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Post by glamourie on Oct 1, 2008 16:02:38 GMT -5
... He was stupid. And presumptuous. And Ka'rys turned off. The anger washed off of his face and he fixed Z'hin with a stare that was somewhere between bored and disinterested. He did not reply immediately, instead tilting his head to the side with one hand coming up to brush the longest strands of his hair out of his face. He was a child. A stupid child, at that, who couldn't reason or respond with logic, and Ka'rys was not going to waste any more of his emotions, or time, on someone who thought they understood anything. The fact that his immediate thoughts were terribly close to the truth, for once, did not bother Ka'rys at all. As far as he was concerned, Z'hin could spout whatever he wanted.
"Yes, brownrider, I ran away from my family for the sake of doing the bidding of some higher power," he replied and quirked an eyebrow. "You are very, very presumptuous. Yes, I was ordered here. I've never made a secret of that. Did you think I came here in cowardly flight, like so many? That I ran away in terror? That I was willing? No - I was ordered here. Many of the riders with some level of experience even know that. Even I don't know the whole truth of why I was sent away. I offended someone somewhere - that much I know - but I was sent here. You ask if I answer to Fort? Use your sharding brain. Would Selenitas still be standing free if I did? Do you really, for one second, believe that if I was some kind of traitor or spy, I wouldn't have handled this Weyr over instead of stressing myself to the point of being sick at times over the safety of these riders? Do you always assume the most illogical conclusion?"
If Z'hin wanted to fight, Ka'rys was perfectly content to fight back; no more arguments based on emotion. Yes, he was angry, beyond all words, enough that he had gone completely numb inside, to that place where right and wrong no longer existed. And that place kept him calm, even and level, colder than even he usually was.
"How many children do you have?" Without waiting for a response, he moved forward and circled, his gaze never quite leaving Z'hin's face. "You tell me my daughter is here - and now you tell me you think I have no right to be around her. That's an interesting argument, considering you don't seem to care at all that her mother is obviously dead." His expression remained blank. "You attach yourself to the child, and make no effort to find out anything about her - whether or not she was alone because she had to be or because of something else. You claim you care, but if you did, what has stopped you from asking the question any sensible person would have? Anyone who cared at all would have asked her where her parents were. You didn't. You snatched and ran. For all you knew, you could have been taking her away from a family that loved her, and had no idea she was in trouble. For all you know, she could still have fosterparents. She's at the age where children like to ignore their parents anyway." Another step; a branch crunched under his bare feet. "You don't care about her. You snatched and ran. Then you come to me, tell me you have my child, and then dare to tell me you won't so much as let me see her. If I didn't know any better, brownrider, I'd say you were trying to deliberately taunt me. It's working, but now the question arises of whether or not you really want to make me your enemy... and I can tell you right now, there's no better way than continuing on this route. Stop and think before your next reply."
Whatever happened to not making threats? Ciceroth questioned weakly, his head turning toward the forest. Ka'rys's anger had him wanting to jump on Jessereth and dig his claws into the brown's back; he refrained. He never attacked first if he could help it, but he could feel the temper rising. Rysmine, let it go; you should walk away. If you stay ---
--- if Kalerary really is here, if what he's saying is true, I'm not going to kill him, Ciceroth. I won't leave her alone. But he said nothing about not completely breaking Z'hin's face. It was very, very tempting. to see him squirming in his own blood, pouring from both nostrils.
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Post by reqqy on Oct 2, 2008 21:54:39 GMT -5
"Better to assume and prepare for the worst than to be caught flat-footed," Z'hin returned, his voice utterly inflectionless. Ka'rys could claim whatever he would. The brownrider had heard it all before, had believed it, too, once. But all it took was a few months in the north to make it clear that things weren't at all like Selenitas would like to believe. Did Ka'rys truly think he didn't know that Fort was using Selenitas as bait to divert Benden's attention and weaken them, that the only interest Fort had in the south was to make certain that they didn't fall to Benden before Fort could take advantage? And even if Ka'rys didn't have ties to Fort, something he found highly doubtful given the strength of the hatred and blind patriotism between the northern weyrs, that was only because the Fort of before was dead now, with R'anatar at the helm. Just the thought of that man's name made Z'hin want to spit.
Oh, yes, he was aware of the story behind Ka'rys. And he was equally certain that was just what it was. A story. It was minimally possible that he might believe otherwise had this conversation gone differently, but Ka'rys was anything but impressive.
The brownrider's eyes narrowed. What, did the weyrleader think he was some sort of wild beast, circling him like that? A small smile turned up a corner of his mouth. He'd survived creatures far more frightening than this small man. Maybe Z'hin was just too stupid to be intimidated.
At this point, nothing he said would matter. The brownrider recognized it instantly. Ka'rys was on the attack. Z'hin merely stood, unbowed, a cold amusement behind his gaze. This man knew nothing. No, the brownrider had no children, but that didn't mean that he didn't understand them. He'd practically reared his younger sisters. Z'hin knew intimately what it was like to lose a mother, and he would never press anyone to talk of something that painful. No matter what the bronzerider chose to say, he knew his own heart - knew he wouldn't be acting so foolishly if he didn't care, and he didn't need Ka'rys to validate that feeling. Kalerary was too distraught to get much out of at the time. Staying at Fort for Z'hin was not an option, and leaving the girl there, without anyone to protect her and unable to get any information as to who that someone might be, that left him only one option. It was not something the brownrider regretted. Ka'rys could rant and rave all he wanted. The man was, quite simply, wrong.
The words didn't so much as have enough power to sting, yet alone wound.
"Oh, I had every intention of giving her back to you. I'm not equipped to raise a girl of that age. You've since changed my mind. The threatening isn't helping, either." Z'hin had absolutely no intention of starting a fight, for the simple reason that he could very well end up killing the man, and that wasn't something remotely beneficial for him. The brownrider never did answer Ka'rys's question. As far as he was concerned, the line had been drawn in the sand already. He sniffed mildly, watching the bronzerider for a moment more, and promptly turned on a heel and began walking toward the river.
Jessereth was still shifting uneasily, trying not to let Z'hin's anger spill over so much that he turned on Ciceroth. He was certain he could make the bronze pay dearly in a fight, but not so certain that he could win. It helped that His didn't seem interested in coming to physical blows with Ciceroth's. Still, the tension hadn't abated much at all. In fact, HinMine seemed to only be even angrier than before.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 2, 2008 22:39:16 GMT -5
Ka'rys continued to circle, silent, and went still only when Z'hin went to step away. His expression was perfectly blank, though his mind was turning - quickly, at that. He couldn't kill Z'hin. If Kalerary was there, she'd be hurt. He couldn't kill him, but he could make him pay, he could make him hurt, and he wanted to. There were very few things in his life that mattered as much as that child and Z'hin so - callously - acted as though he could possibly understand anything about how he felt. Anything. He knew nothing, and Ka'rys was angry enough that he wanted to reinforce that idea in full. All he'd wanted for the past four turns, all he could wish for, was for Leradi and Kalerary to be there with him, safe. That would have made everything worth fighting for, worth dying for. But they weren't. Leradi was a northern woman and would never have come to the south, she would have been panicked at the very idea unless she was sent specifically. And there was simply no way she would have given up her only child, particularly when Kalerary was half an accident in her own right. He'd had no choice. He could have stayed, yes, but what would have happened? Ciceroth would've been killed, or he would've, or both; odds were, if he lost Ciss, he wouldn't have made it anyway. Leradi and Kalerary may well have been punished, too. Who knew? He'd gone because he was told to, yes, and because he didn't disobey orders. He understood the reasons. Hated them, but he understood, and Ka'rys was not stupid. No matter what the reckless child in front of him might have thought. Maybe he could stand to disobey orders and be beaten but he had nothing to lose. Ka'rys had everything to lose. Sometimes it was safer to walk away - better, in the long run, to keep the people he cared about out of harm's way. That way they were never caught in the crossfire or used as a weapon against him. They deserved better than that.
And the ignorant little fool who thought he understood anything was beyond reckless. Ka'rys's eyes narrowed as Z'hin started to leave, and his left hand reached out to grasp one of the vines hanging from the trees. He'd been eyeing it earlier when he'd thought Z'hin would retaliate for the punch, and the circling movements put him right next to the vine. Ideal. One sharp jerk tore it free from the branches with a few cracks and snaps, and he caught the other end with his right hand - then moved, as fast as he could. It wasn't a terribly strong vine, but thick enough that it would get the job done. He threw it over the brownrider's head, then pulled back on the opposing sides as though to choke, stepping back to brace himself. He did not expect Z'hin to go down without a fight, and he was ready; he may not have had any real weapons, but shard it, he was not going to stand and be mocked and taunted, with everything he could dream of, everything he could ever want, and say and do nothing. He would not let Z'hin get away with rubbing salt in what was a very large and very open wound.
In the back of his mind, he was well-aware he was making a mistake. He knew that fighting wasn't exactly a good idea. Z'hin was on his wing and he flat out refused to transfer him - especially knowing that Kale was staying with him; that only reinforced the need to keep Z'hin under his gaze. He wanted to make sure that Z'hin wasn't doing anything blatantly stupid. Throwing a vine around his neck with the full intention of choking him until he was blue in the face was not the best way to keep him safe, but killing wasn't his goal, as evidenced by the fact that he wasn't standing close enough to tighten the vine around the back of the brownrider's throat; he could get away. Not a killing move. Shard it. Shard it shard it shard it. He wanted to make him beg and plead, or at the very least, bleed. He settled instead for backing up, his own heartbeat's thumping rhythm in the back of his mind like some kind of disturbing song. He was angry, frightened, and upset. He couldn't kill Z'hin. Kalerary obviously cared about him. He couldn't kill him. That was repeated in his mind like a mantra.
Ciceroth, back on the beach, flinched and stood up again, looking around frantically. He couldn't get into the forest. He was far, far too big. Some part of him wanted to call for help, to find someone to stop RysHis. If he hurt Jessereth's that badly, he could be in a lot of trouble. Certainly he would not escape unscathed. Someone would find out, someone would want to punish them. He could not care less what happened to Jessereth's -- the man deserved whatever RysHis did to him, for upsetting him so much (Ciceroth's eyes had taken on a distinct crimson that was evidence of the anger bleeding over from Ka'rys; undeniably a dangerous hue if ever there was one) -- but he would not see them punished because of a show of temper. RysHis was not normally so prone to tantrums. That... creature... was having a peculiar talent for angering him. Over the hatchling. A hatchling that was not even his. His eyes whirled more quickly and he glanced at Jessereth.
Something needed to be done.
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Post by reqqy on Oct 3, 2008 10:25:31 GMT -5
Z'hin heard the sounds, not responding immediately. Things were always making noise in the jungle. But that brisk rustle indicative of running - or, more likely in this case, a charge - had the brownrider turning. Much too slowly. Ka'rys was fast. His mind snapped into another gear, lip curling up into a snarl as the vine tightened around his neck. Very few thoughts went through his head in that moment. One, strangely, was that the vine was largely inferior to the wire coiled in his pocket. That wire was almost as effective a beheading tool as a strangulation device. Interesting what the mind thinks of in a bind. The second though was that, despite the fact that Ka'rys was trying to throttle him, Z'hin couldn't afford to kill the weyrleader, which was actually more infuriating than the reality of the attack to begin with. Thirdly, though, it was getting a little difficult to breathe, so he really should do something.
It would have been easy enough to slice through the vine with the knife in his wrist sheathe - something he wouldn't have to bend down to retrieve - but Z'hin immediately dismissed that idea. Ka'rys was too fast. He'd lose the blade to the man, like as not, and that - definitely wouldn't be good. Better to fight with a weapon that couldn't be taken from him. The brownrider wasn't sure if the weyrleader was truly trying to kill him and simply didn't know a good way to go about it, or if the vine was being used in this manner because Ka'rys was just trying to...make a point? What point was beyond Z'hin, though he found it equally unbelievable that Ka'rys wouldn't know to wrap the vine completely around his neck. Man, he was taking too long to think this one out, even though it hadn't been more than a few seconds. The weyrleader was stepping back, bringing the brownrider back a step with him.
He could so easily just walk toward Ka'rys. The vine would go slack. But then the weyrleader would just dart back, and he was too fast for Z'hin. The brownrider could probably outlast him, but...not enough time for that. So he did something that made little sense on the surface. He planted his feet, curling the fingers of one hand around the vine in an attempt to relieve the pressure - or so it would seem. In a sudden movement, he slid the hand around to catch the other end of the vine, yanking both ends of the vine forward abruptly and swinging his left elbow around in an arc that would hopefully connect with that cold, sneering face. At the very least, Ka'rys would have to let go. He snapped the vine between his hands, imagining it was the bronzerider's neck, and cast it aside violently. This was ridiculous. "Lay off it," he growled. The weyrleader was a danger, certainly, but he either didn't know how to kill or didn't intend to, and Z'hin was not about to waste his time fighting this man.
Thus he did something still more foolish. He continued walking away.
One glance at Ciceroth had Jessereth on edge. More than he already was, at any rate. It wasn't easy, restraining himself, although HinMine's self-restraint helped. The brown didn't know what to do. He was more than just angry - he wanted to tear something apart. A tremble coursed through his limbs. For the first time since Ciceroth had landed, the brown spoke to him. This can't continue. And if his tone was cold, it was sincere enough. He did not at all like the bronze, but that was insignificant in comparison to how far this fight could go.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 3, 2008 21:55:01 GMT -5
Movement. Not quite as fast, though. Ka'rys had a brief moment to almost thank the little shrimp that Savitri called a friend. He was much, much faster than Z'hin, and the last real fight that Ka'rys had participated in was against him - an opponent faster than he was. In comparison, the brownrider was most definitely slow, and far easier to read. Ironic, really, was it that he was grateful for that incident, for the scar on his arm most definitely did not allude to that feeling... but he was, nonetheless. His instincts were more refined than they were only a few months previous. That and, no matter how much more recently Z'hin may or may not have been in the north, the fact remained that he was still a southerner, and Ka'rys had grown up with people that made him look like a great big feline cub. Claws and teeth, but easily rendered incapacitated with a bit of effort.
He released the vine and stepped back quickly to avoid what could have been a potentially nasty blow right to the face. Getting hit in the nose was always temporarily stunning, and he did not want to risk being unaware in front of him. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head defiantly, but the fact that the brownrider still kept his back to him was infuriating. Didn't he realize how dangerous that was? What a risk he was taking? Did he not care? Or was he so unbelievably arrogant that he thought everyone would let him go? The only thing that kept him from swiping Z'hin's legs out from underneath him was the fact that he was important to Kalerary. If he started fighting seriously, there would be no arguing, no bickering, and no hesitation. He'd just kill him. Knock him flat on his back, tighten the vine around his throat until he choked to death on his own saliva. He wanted to.
Lay... off it?
... Ka'rys narrowed his eyes slightly, unable to help himself. What a conceited, ignorant fool. The only reason that he didn't plaster the brownrider to a tree and carve pretty, bloody patterns into his skin was for Kale. He could handle being scorned and punished. What would they do, exile him? Maybe - he'd probably get shipped back to the north. He'd be out of Kalerary's life for good but she'd be safe - safe at Selenitas where, even though he was a criminal, no one would scorn her. They wouldn't punish her for his crimes. He was not seeing a downfall other than her hatred. Well, going back to the north wasn't exactly a pleasing idea, but he could live with it if he knew she was safe. But was it worth it for the sake of vindictive rage? Was it? -- No. No, Z'hin wasn't worth the price. He could punish him far better if he stayed, too. He would always rank Z'hin, always. He was a bronzerider, after all.
It would help if Yours stopped presenting ample opportunity, Ciceroth replied with nothing short of ice in his tone. He was angry and yes, he wanted to hurt Jessereth. Ka'rys was slowly calming down, but Ciceroth wasn't, as evidenced by the still-rapidly whirling eyes. As it is, Rysmine is coming out. Move. Was that last part a command? Yes. If Jessereth didn't move, Ka'rys would just have to stay in the forest with Z'hin, and that did not bode well for them. If Jessereth wanted it to be over, he'd get out of the way and give Ciceroth space to pick up His. To Ka'rys privately, he asked, Why are you letting someone so far beneath you in status upset you? He has your Hatchling, but he can't keep her, not if you decide to fight him. I don't mean with fists, Rysmine. Be logical. Do you really think that anyone in this Weyr would side with him for trying to keep your child from you when it means so much? It is petty, vindictive and cruel. You can get her back. You don't have to hurt him to do it.
Edging backwards, Ka'rys glanced in the direction of the bronze and snorted. Good to see someone was calming down - some. He then cast a glance toward Z'hin and climbed over one of the roots. He never presented his back to the retreating brownrider, though. Unlike Z'hin, he recognized danger. He still wanted to throttle the life out of him but -- Ciceroth was right. He could fight other ways. And Z'hin was on his wing. Making an enemy of him just ensured he'd work him harder than he ever needed to anyone else... even if he wouldn't let anything happen to him in the sky. Vindictive? Yes. And he could make his life a living hell. He could always just transfer him to S'rei's wing. Two wherries with one rock, that.
Do you still want me to go out the front?
No. Jessereth will not attack you or I will rip his throat out, came the simple, brutal reply. Nothing like ultimate practicality. He's been warned, and I very highly doubt that he wants you to stay in there with His. Not when you could take him apart and put him back together all before he realized what was happening. When Ciceroth was angry, it tended to show... vividly. Just the same, come out near where I am - to the east of our usual spot. I don't want to have to hurt Jessereth if I don't have to.
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Post by reqqy on Oct 4, 2008 7:16:15 GMT -5
The brownrider was half-expecting another charge, the slender stilletto palmed and ready, but it never came. The tense line of his shoulders relaxed slightly, though his body language gave off no other indication. It had...worked...amazingly. Z'hin wasn't restraining himself for Ka'rys's sake, or his own, or even Kalerary's so much, though that was a factor. He knew Jessereth too well; if he were to fully engage the weyrleader, the brown would attack. He wasn't just reclusive, the brown, as Z'hin had discovered in the north. No. Jess was vicious, and without Z'hin checking him...
Such a violent man, this Ka'rys. It could be argued that the brownrider had stirred him up over the sensitive topic of his daughter - and yes, Z'hin knew it was sensitive, but he just couldn't get the image of her cornered and cowering from his mind - but he'd been aggressive before that. Like all too many northern bronzeriders. Well, he'd put a few of them in their place, and just took the abuse of more and played whatever game benefitted him most at the time. This wasn't a game, however. He was too emotionally involved, and needed distance that he feared he wouldn't likely get. Now was the time to arrange the pieces. After all, if he thought he could keep Kalerary a secret, keep her safe with him, he would have played this far differently. Like it or not, Ka'rys was her father, and if he pushed...Z'hin's frown deepened. Definitely time to arrange the pieces.
First things first, though.
Jessereth did not at all like being ordered around, or the bronze's tone in general. Only fear of Z'hin's anger kept him from rejecting the command outright. The brown's head lowered, the dragon showing a brief flash of sharp teeth before he moved just a little. Go to the Weyr, Jessereth. And leave you here? Not going to happen. Go. Jessereth didn't like that one bit. But...he couldn't help Z'hin when His was in the jungle, anyway, and even if Ciceroth did see it as cowardly...that really shouldn't matter, should it? The brown wavered for a moment more before taking to wing. Any further conversation with the bronze wasn't likely to go well, anyway, and, in the end, he'd rather not upset HinMine. Things could be downright miserable for a few days when they started crossing each other.
As soon as Jessereth had cleared out, Z'hin cast one last glance Ka'rys's direction and veered off, the soft crunch of the leaves under his boots fading almost immediately into something nearly inaudible as he shifted weight to the balls of his feet. He couldn't be silent in boots, but it still wasn't bad. The brownrider didn't intend to be followed. He didn’t think the weyrleader would bother, but you never knew, and Z’hin had been a lot closer to earnestly fighting Ka’rys than the bronzerider likely realized. The knife in his hand fit perfectly. It belonged there, and he didn’t sheathe it. Not yet.
Hrorek slid from Between, flashing the images of Kalerary playing with her kitten. He wrote as he walked, ignoring his own unpolished hand. Enough people confused stupid with uneducated that it served him well enough, anyway, and if the letters almost looked like a child wrote them, they were legible. They were at least that. Weyrleader. I am taking Kalerary to the Gather. Come, if you wish. He was tempted to write more, but refrained. Events had taken an unfortunate turn here, but he still needed to know…his next move. In regards to Kalerary, and everything else. Part of him wished Ka’rys would prove inept.
As Jessereth came to land on his weyrledge, pacing with suppressed energy and emotion, Z’hin slid into an easy lope through the trees, deliberately taking a circuitous route that would be hard to follow. Just in case. Hrorek jumped from Between along the riverbank, flitting about until he saw him. He buzzed Ka’rys’s head for his attention, then landed on a nearby log. Waiting.
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Post by glamourie on Oct 4, 2008 19:52:55 GMT -5
Ciceroth's eyes whirled rapidly as he watched Jessereth take to wing, and he lifted his head to make it easier for his gaze to follow him. Once the brown glided out, away, a safe distance from the jungle itself, he stretched out again and flapped his wings. His eyes noticeably slowed in their spinning, and the reddish hues started to bleed away. The anger was rapidly fading. Jessereth being gone reduced the temptation to tear him to shreds. The fact that Jessereth's also moved away and did not make an effort to follow Ka'rys also pleased him and slowly, but surely, he relaxed back against the ground. He hadn't meant, though, for Jessereth to leave. Just to get away from the forest line where RysHis was coming out. Still, he couldn't fault him for going - but from the behavior he'd displayed just before taking wing, Ciceroth guessed that it had less to do with what he said and more to do with what his bonded told him. Unlike Ka'rys, however, Ciceroth was very good at recognizing a neutral offering, no matter how it may have been meant or what the person offering it thought. And he was grateful.
So it was that he went against his usual code. He couldn't and wouldn't ask RysHis to go back and speak to Jessereth's, and he had little desire to address the brown himself. He settled for speaking to the man, although the cold edge to his 'voice' would doubtlessly make it clear he didn't like the idea. Thank you for sending Jessereth away. He did not ask why, nor did his 'tone' imply he was being condescending in any way. Maybe he should have viewed it as a cowardly move, but he didn't. Knowing when to stand and fight and when to back off was a very good trait and it spoke of intelligence that RysHis did not believe the brownrider possessed. Ciceroth was not so easily fooled.
Silently, Ka'rys slipped through the brush before coming out of the jungle next to Ciceroth. His gaze flicked around quizzically, but he did not spot the brown that his bronze was so flustered over. Cocking his head to the side, he glanced at Ciceroth and then at the spots in the sand that were brushed aside next to him. Dragon-prints. Hmm.
"Where did Jessereth go?" he asked softly as he moved to sit against the bronze. He required the physical reassurance. His hands moved up to his face and he bowed his head slightly. "Did you chase him off or something?"
I believe His ordered him away. He flew off a moment before you came out. He was over to the west a few paces. Away from me. There was no small amount of gratitude when he addressed Ka'rys and he made no effort to hide the blatant affection he felt for his rider as he leaned his head down to rest it against Ka'rys. Possessive and protective at once. He could feel how upset His still was and it bothered him, but at least the rage had subsided for the most part. He crooned, his tail flicking in agitation behind him. Little bands of sand separated from the movement. We can talk to Aslath's. She might be reasonable. She seemed to be - better. Aslath might listen if I explain to her. Do you want me to?
"I --" Ka'rys's answer was cut off as a blue form caught his gaze and he narrowed his eyes. Ciceroth turned to look at the blue flitting about and his eyes whirled dangerously, but he did not speak again. Ka'rys held out one hand to take the note the blue was holding before scowling. He recognized him, but the name escaped him. "A moment, Ciceroth." Unfolding the note, he glanced back at the firelizard. "Thank you. I don't have a treat for you." He would've given him a bit of meat if he had it, though. He had a firelizard, after all, and he knew they responded well to expressions of gratitude. The letter itself was then read with a look of curiosity before he held it up for Ciceroth to look at. The bronze snorted indignantly at him and he scoffed. "Impossible brute, you need to learn to read. Fine. It says 'Weyrleader, I am taking Kalerary to the Gather. Come if you wish.'" He uncurled the note, then sighed. "Right. A public place."
It's not a bad offer, Rysmine. You will be less inclined to smack the smirk off his face if you're in public. Shall we swim now?
Typical reasonable dragon. Snorting, he stood up and bobbed his head before casting another glance at the firelizard. The letter was pocketed, but he mounted without waiting for any kind of response for the firelizard. "Over to your rocks, then," he said down to Ciceroth, who crooned in delight. Flapping his wings, the bronze took to air, and neither he nor his rider looked back in the direction the brownrider had went. They'd see him again soon enough.
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