King of the Dunes! (Open)

[Requiem]

Stay, arachneugly, he commanded. Only the deformed, retarded salamandyr with too many legs and no frill didn't stay...or make any indication that he'd heard Lust at all. Must be mind deaf. Still, to be fair, he decided to issue one more warning. Arachneugly no move, or Lust tear off extra legs, make all little sand pieces green, he hissed threateningly. Again the retarded, misshapen one didn't react. No cowering, no foolish attempt at posturing...that settled it. Mind deaf. No other explanation. Well, he'd just have to make his wishes known more...physically. Universal language, no?

Thus decided, the male launched himself at the scuttler, frill fully extended and hissing vigorously. What was that? What was that?! Did the retarded one just try to pinch him with those hideously deformed forelegs? It was war! He leapt on the scuttler's back, clinging bravely as the thing waved those ugly pincers around and danced back and forth. Lust bit at him, but his hide was hard. Confused, the bronze wondered if the deformed one had some sort of hide disease. His Lovepet would know. How terrible...but it was still defying him, and pitiable or no, that couldn't be tolerated.

Apparently deciding that the self-proclaimed King of Selenitas was too much for him, the crab suddenly scuttled sideways, into the ocean, the wave rolling over them and dislodging Lust, tumbling the bronze end over end. Arachneugly dung eater...drown dead deformed ugly, he snarled, struggling to get to the top of the wave and being dragged further out into the ocean until a tail splashed down beside him and he grabbed on, crooning. Much good bigmouth, good vassal.

Snorting at the rescued 'King of the Dunes,' Kalierre munched on her evening meal of fruit, cheese and bread. "That's a crab, not a salamandyr, Lust. You can be king of the ground. Leave the water creatures alone." King of all, you see, you see, he insisted, crawling wearily up onto her knee and nipping at her. Crawlies? "All right. Crawlies." Fishing out the pouch of live grubs she carried, she let him have a few, and the bronze curled up happily after his meal, plotting how he would conquer the seabeasts. It could be done, and he'd show them all.

Phremath curled around the rocks, liking the feel of the spray against her hide. I like the ocean, she stated peacefully, lowering her head for Kalierre to scratch. "Yes, I know." So does the little LustKing. We should come here more often. Don't you think? "Well, I do like watching the sunset," the dragonhealer admitted reluctantly...rearranging her limbs to relieve the familiar pain in her hip.

[dragon]

It was good, to get away from the Weyr every now and then. Especially when tensions were mounting - a person had to breathe every now and again. As for their choice of destination, Aonith could not remember the last time they had ventured to the sea. Which made it too long ago. She only remembered that she and hers loved the sea. Or the beach, anyway. Nevermind to always have a memory of the sea fresh in her mind, they'd have to go at least every third day. For of which there seriously was not that much time free to do such things.

Maybe Hepaticath will be there again, and we can blow more bubbles together. Aonith mused, idly flapping her wings only as often as it took to keep them aloft and traveling. Which meant they had a rather erratic flight path going, sometimes dipping alarmingly close to the canopy, sometimes arcing higher into the sky. But always headed in the general vicinity of the coast.

"I don't think so." Dorava answered, simply. "If she is there, I would wonder what sort of rigging you are doing."

None. Aonith answered, as she began to see who was there. I do not see Hepaticath. But I do see Phremath.

"What?!" Dorava sat up straighter on her dragon's neck.

I am pretty sure you heard me the first time, mine. Aonith answered, smugly.

Dorava groaned, and slumped a bit. "Watch her be in a foul mood - especially since we showed up." She grumped.

Don't be so negative. You never know. Let's go say hi. Aonith decided, before tilting her wings appropriately, causing them to slew sideways on the seabreeze, practically traveling sideways along the edge of the forest.

"That's not a good idea ... could be a private event." Dorava answered.

Nonsense. It's the beach. Aonith answered, before backwinging to a landing not terribly far away from where Phremath was lounging languidly in the surf's spray. Dorava smacked her dragon with an open palm, before slipping off the green shoulder on the far side from where Kalierre was seated. Stepping around in front, she leaned on Aonith's shoulder and offered a token smile.

"Nice day for the beach." She offered, by way of a greeting. Since Aonith had oh-so-nicely dropped her here. Might as well try to make the best of it. Dorava promptly staggered, trying to regain her balance when Aonith suddenly moved backward and walked away, leaving Dorava without her perch. The green wandered over toward where Phremath was, and nosed around in the rocks with curiosity.

Do you mind if I join you, sister? Aonith asked, pleasantly, waiting to make herself at home until she was allowed. Phremath was here first, thus it was her beachfront for the moment.

Dorava tugged on the hem of her shirt, trying to regain some medium of dignity, thankful that she had at least managed to stay on her feet instead of doing a faceplant in the wet sand.