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Post by dragon on Aug 2, 2010 23:28:08 GMT -5
Dorava stood there on the ledge of her weyr, wearing naught but her nightshift at the moment. Love was wrapped around her wrist, being idly stroked by the other hand as the greenrider's gaze took in the early morning light. It really was an absolutely lovely time of day, with the sunlight pouring through the treetops at the top of the canyon. The light bounced off the far cliff face, and sifted down into the canyon itself in a sort of twilight effect, catching on all the mist thrown by the waterfall and giving everything a very ethereal feel.
Dorava inhaled slowly, and a smile crossed her features. Yes, today was a good day. Even if it was a tad nippy out still. Love cooed from her wrist, before climbing up her arm and perching on her shoulder, looking back into the weyr, where the other three were still sleeping.
Val in his mug, all curled up in the bottom of the ceramic thing, keeping him warm with his own body heat. Love sometimes slept in there on top of him, but not always. Mandyr was crashed out upside down on Dorava's pillow, sawing those flitter logs as hard as she could. In her couch, all balled up like a big kitten fighting off the cold, Aonith was sleeping hard as well, tail thrown over her snout. The only thing was, was that Aonith was usually the first up, not Dorava.
Dorava was usually the one roused out of her rather comfily warm furs by a big dragon-snout insisting that she get up before they became late for drills. Drills drills drills. Always drills. But they were getting good at it. There was no argument toward the skill of the wing improving.
The other thing that was different was again Aonith; she was glowing. Softly, but still glowing. Dorava knew what it meant. The sleeping in and the glowing. Aonith rarely ever went into a radiant glow, instead doing more of a soft blush more often than not. Smiling again in peaceful acceptance of the lovely day, Dorava looked up, and noted that it would be a clear day once the morning mists were burned off. Turning, she reached up to make sure Love wasn't going to fall as she walked barefoot across the stone inside again.
Lifting the little green scrap of a gaunt mandyr from her shoulder, she set Love on the rim of the mug Val was sleeping in. "Keep him company for me, okay? I'll be back." She promised.
Love looked up at her imploringly, but otherwise silent, settling down on her haunches on the lip of the mug, tail dangling down inside it. Mandyr slept on in oblivion, blissfully ignorant of the world. But Aonith would wake soon, Dorava could feel it. So she did what she could to be ready in advance. She took a moment to brush out her hair, clearing it of snarls, rebraiding it into the typical long, thick braid that she usually kept it in. For a moment she had to wonder how many people wouldn't recognize her if she left it down to blow in the wind.
But that usually resulted in infernal knots. So she didn't do it.
Padding barefoot out of the weyr and into the hall, Dorava started walking, aware she still had time. Or, at least, she thought she did. In the end, she was still a few dragonlengths from the flight rooms when Aonith stirred.
The green unwound herself and stretched languidly in her stone bed, flopping out expansively across the floor. Yawning, she rolled over and pushed to her feet, gaze taking in the weyr in a moment. Hers was gone already. But it didn't take her long to figure out where Dorava was. Turning around, Aonith walked out onto the ledge. There, she unfurled her wings, standing there for a moment to take in the morning.
Lovely. Absolutely lovely. There wasn't a better time of day. Aonith had always loved the dawn hour.
Unfortunately, at this hour, most were still sleeping. Normally, this was something Aonith took pains to not disturb - but not this morning. Filling her lungs to capacity, she blasted the canyon with her challenging call, doing her level best to wake the boys and get their attention. This was her morning to shine, after all!! They had best fall to and pay heed!
Leaping off of her ledge, she brought her extended wings downward in a powerful beat that sent her shooting up into the sky over the canyon. Whirling on a wingtip, she turned to go the other way over the canyon, waiting a brief moment for the lads to blink the sleep from their eyes. She was not a mean green - she would not demand the impossible.
Dorava hurried the last bit into the flight room, and there she surrendered to her dragon's desires, twirling about the room in tandem to Aonith's twirls about the canyon.
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Lotty
Shiny Hoarder
Rider Mi?rah Rider K?sel Rider Osnat Healer Raebeli
Posts: 1,020
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Post by Lotty on Aug 3, 2010 13:52:55 GMT -5
"You'll never catch her..."
Mi'rah was just being reasonable and above all logical. Yes, his bronze was awfully slender in comparison to his fellows, and yes the wing had all become faster with every day, but then Aonith was on their wing too. So of course that meant she was that much faster too. The green made her share of aerial feats on a regular basis. Kierjaarth didn't. It only made sense to the rider that any participation would only result in embarrassment. With all the blues and browns with fleet wings it made little to no sense why the bronze should even try. Mi'rah just simply didn't approve.
Oh but this isn't about me this time... Curious because the last flight he had said the exact opposite, which left Mi'rah wondering what awful tricks the dragon could have up his sleeve. Was it possible for a supposedly pure creature to keep something from their bonded? Well, they couldn't for long anyway, I think you'll like it. I think you'll have fun since you started to get to know Aonith's rather well. The dragon began to stretch on his ledge. Chasing a fellow wingmember would require that type of preparation after all.
"Ugh," he threw off the covers from on top of himself rather hastily and ironically tried to find something appropriate to wear even though he knew as well as any what flights usually entailed. There was always the chance he might lose some along the way...sweating from the boiling of his blood of course. Still, he was exactly vain enough to make sure that the his shirt was wrinkle free even if his shoes went completely forgotten. You better hurry... It was the dragon's last warning before he replied to Aonith's call with a shorter roar.
The bronze slipped off of his ledge, losing some height before catching some warm air and letting the drifts carry him up towards the green, but still considerably below her. Easily he would circle the canyon as he waited for the other chasers to appear.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 3, 2010 14:08:57 GMT -5
The topmost lid slid partially up to reveal the bottom half of one eye as Inocenth let out a low snarl. Dragons screaming before full light. How irritating. Correction: one dragon. A green Rose, and he knew that form well. Wingmate. His was not at all fond of Hers, and though Inocenth was picky - even as his rider was - he had a certain fondness for this green. Or perhaps it would've been more accurate to call it a fondness for this green's reactions. Spitfire, and too stupid to realize that her confidence was only arrogance, not well-founded at all. That was all right, though. He loved playing with those the most. Well, apart from playing with the ones who played with him in return, but they were few and far between and even Inocenth had to relax his standards once in awhile if no one could meet them.
His other eye opened, regarding His in silence. Still unmoving on top of Saber's. That would explain the lack of protest. Arching his neck, the small male uncoiled leisurely, noting that no other males had responded just yet. She wouldn't be flying off on her own, now would she? The male yawned and took his time about stretching his wings, making her wait. Only when he was good and ready did he slip from his ledge, dropping into a slow, lazy circle a good hundred feet above the ground before he glided upward on unhurried wingstrokes. Still seeing only one overlarge shiny in the air, his eyes slitted a little with what might have been a certain amount of wry pleasure. As if the overstuffed turkey had a chance. He suddenly changed direction, the small blue darting toward Aonith with a snap of teeth and flashing talons. Fly, little pretty.
In his sleep, the bluerider stirred slightly, entangled leg sliding down a touch as he turned his cheek into the languid throb of pulse. Fingers gripped the furs in a small, spasmodic gesture. "Stay...er bite off yer nose an use it for a vase," he murmured in a low growl to his weyrmate, the fingers curling lightly in a carress against the man's cheek. "All call ye Daisy-nose." The movements stilled, F'ur's sleep as yet undisturbed by the dance of dragons going on above.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Aug 3, 2010 16:41:40 GMT -5
Rise and shine, Tor-mine! Ruskeath sang brightly. It was such a lovely morning. Even humans really had no business being in bed. It was started to get a little warmer with the coming spring. More than enough to make a brown dragon feel like a hatchling again. G'tor didn't share the sentiment. He groaned and rolled over in his furs. Normally he was quite the morning person, but normally it wasn't this cold. Rusk, why in Faranth's name did you wake me? You were the one who said I needed sleep!
Well, you do, Ruskeath agreed thoughtfully. He craned his neck outside the weyr, as if looking for something. But do I need a reason? Yes, or else I'm going back to sleep, G'tor informed him grumpily. Ruskeath rumbled in amusement. Oh, I do not think you will. The brown poised himself on his ledge as the cry of a green echoed in the canyon. "SHARD IT!" G'tor through off the furs and darted down the hall, already feeling the pull of the female Ruskeath was infatuated with. I'll get you for this! You may try, Ruskeath laughed lightly.
With that, the brown took to the sky. His low call answered Aonith's challenging one with a pleasant greeting. It would be a joy to fly for her.
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Post by dragon on Aug 3, 2010 20:10:15 GMT -5
My my my, but the lads were slow getting going this morning! Aonith twirled in the sky and rolled wing over wing in a display of impatience and pent up energy, a need to get moving. It was tiiiiiiime. She needed to fly, escorted or not! Ahh, but here came one! A very fine fellow indeed, shiny hide glinting in the morning light. A Bronze! Aonith was pleased indeed. For since coming to Selenitas she had found a charm to the big lads indeed. Funny, though, how the bronze that usually attended her was also her wingleader! Interesting indeed, this was twice now. Two different bronzes, too. Was she that impressive?! Oh, but she found Kierjaarth's presence quite flattering in every way she looked at his arrival. She was honored that he was interested in her, a green! Not a spec of even yellow to her, too. Aonith hummed in delight, cutting a series of fast turns back and forth in a zig zag along the canyon, not really traveling very fast as she waited for her lads to get moving.
She never once paid any attention to Inocenth as he played around down there in the bottom of the canyon. At least, not until he shot up through the air to make a stab at biting her. Aonith honked in alarm, twirling hard to one side to avoid the blue. How dare he!! Eyes swirling suddenly in red anger as well as the tell tale violet of flight, she regarded the blue with a hateful glare, winging beating faster. You insolent wretch! She spat, flicking end over end to lash out at the blue, tail forks aimed at his eyes in a whip cracking motion. He'd have to move fast to get away from the blow. No, she was not pleased at all. Not by his being there, nor by his antics of getting her attention. Greens were short on memory, but Aonith tended to remember when individuals attacked her. Being mock-attacked only served to bring those memories back to the surface as well. He might have had a chance had he played nice, but not any more. Aonith was already pissed at him. Insulted that he even showed up. You think you can take me by the throat, and then offer me your tail? Get your sorry withered self back to your master, wretch. She coughed at him, in a clear threat. If she'd had flame it would have boiled forth. But since she had none, it was a mere cough. No, she did not like Inocenth one bit. It was hard enough to be in the same wing as him. But tolerate his aggressive, hateful self in her moment of glory? Not on Faranth's own wings!
If she had been in her right mind, she would have also have worried about his and hers being in the same room together again. For the safety of hers. But at the moment, she was just boiling and seething with so much hate and insult that it never even crossed her hormonal mind.
Huffing and moving to make her point known, she arced through the air, back toward where her lovely bronze was flying. She cut a hard and fast circle around the bronze, rolling in the air to fly briefly upside down over his neck, dropping again to keep from interfering with his wings. He also got attention from her forks, but it was more flirtatious dragging of them over his neck as she passed, not at all a threat or a weapon.
Rolling over in the air again and spreading her wings to shoot off down the length of the canyon, Aonith spotting Ruskaeth rising to her challenge. Ah! Another fine and handsome fellow!! Aonith trumpeted a greeting and welcome to the brown, shooting past overhead. Now, they were all going to have to keep up. Aonith did not want Inocenth to follow, but at this point she really didn't care anymore. She was going to fly, and fly fast.
Arcing upward again, she crested higher than the canyon walls, twirling through the air in giddy release. Now was her time to shine, and she was going to fly! Fly as no green had flown before! Twirling and zigging in agile stunts that only a seasoned green with no rider aboard could pull, she completely enjoyed her freedom, using the slightest of air currents to make her maneuvering all that much more impressive and fun! Always fun.
But being in open air, her suitors would find it fairly easy to follow for now, as the stunts were eating up her lateral speed, even as she was bodily moving quite fast through the air. There were also no physical objects to be dodged around, so the larger males would find it easy to just simply follow along - for now. Later, once the edge was worn off of her fiery energy, she would throw more challenges at them.
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Post by tarra on Aug 4, 2010 3:01:00 GMT -5
The scream woke him with a thrash of wings, and the sudden impact of his tail striking rock caused his head to jerk up with a snarl. The lithe blue's muzzle flicked from side to side in alarmed surveillance as his limbs tensed beneath, ready to wake his rider or leap into flight at an instant's notice. At the sight of the green form rising into the sky, however, Sonarth relaxed. Just another green on the rise, announcing her readiness all down the canyon in true spirited form. Annoyed though he was at having been woken, he stretched his wings and slipped light from his ledge into the still air, drifting lazily towards the green. The slender blue was not a frequent chaser, more for his rider's sake than out of any personal aversion to the practice. There had been too many uncertainties in Fort, too many negative consequences of ending in the wrong bed for him to do so without being substantially distracted by Katar's worrying, and so he had simply refrained from doing it.
It was for that same reason he had not chased since they came to Selenitas. After the less-than-cordial welcome provided by a certain blue weyrling, the tensions of that first turn had left Katar more on her toes than might have been the case, and such constant, heightened anxiety was hardly conducive to chasing.
But Katar was asleep right now, and a quick check confirmed she was still deep in slumber. Linked though she usually was to her dragon's instincts, his shock wakening had not affected her this time - she was too exhausted from the effect of dealing with daily chores whilst nursing a torn and bandaged arm. There was nothing to stop him from having a little fun.
The blue skimmed upwards, moving gradually towards Aonith and then swerving away as Inocenth snapped at her and was tail-lashed in return. His jaws parted in a sort of grin - perhaps he was laughing, perhaps just expressing distaste, it was hard to tell - and he took the time to spiral upwards in lazy circles, allowing the slow beginning to warm his sleep-laden wings. In addition to the other aggressive ex-Fortian blue (ie. Inocenth) and the brown Ruskaeth, Kierjaath too had taken an interest in this flight. A rare sight for a greenflight. This was shaping to be quite the challenge.
And Sonarth liked challenges.
There was no more time for thought. Aonith shot off down the length of the canyon and Sonarth followed, the light touch of his mind telling the green he was on the hunt. Hope you don't mind but you are rather too beautiful to resist, that mental touch seemed to say. Implying the thoughts rather than speaking. The lithe blue was not the most eloquent of speakers, and hardly cared to speak when he had no need to.
She twirled into the sky above the canyon, and just for fun he spread his wings to race her a second, matching her speed for a brief instant in a burst of energy. Relaxing again, he allowed his short, light spurts of wingbeats to bring him upward in sparse spirals, playful in their wide loops around the green's maneuvers. Sonarth was careful to give both the green and her fellow chasers ample space, not wishing to cause a collision in any way. The simple patterns warmed his muscles further, limbering his frame and allowing him to stretch out a bit before the true rigour of the flight began.
Back in the weyr, Katar began to stir as the first touches of flightlust pricked at her waking dreams. She jerked aside suddenly as the ground seemed to whirl beneath her, opening into an open plane of air and space and time...
Her eyes flew open as she came wide awake, recognising the beginnings of the lust and the images of sky rapidly overtaking her vision. A glance at the ledge confirmed it - Sonarth was gone.
"Shard...it..."
She stumbled from the furs, shivering in her nightie, and began to stagger towards the door. Skittles pulled her small furry head from the nearby pillows to watch her go, questioning eyes wide as she found herself abruptly alone in the weyr.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 4, 2010 6:07:02 GMT -5
A casual twirl to mirror hers in the opposite direction, eyes slitting in unveiled amusement - was it audible? - at her graceless honking. Never show surprise, even when you feel it. Silly greenie. She'd learn. Eventually. So harsh, he returned in his dark sibilance, the amusement behind the words all too clear as he banked easily, feeling the wind off her tail-whip. His foreleg darted out in a swat, the curves of his claws presented her, not catching on hide but making his point all too clear. Should she wish to play these games with him, the win would not be in her corner. Tsk, tsk. Who said anything about offering? The bronzes swell your head, greenie. Your life I gave you back, and now I will claim what's mine. A sudden jerk, diving just past Kierjaarth's snout in clear disdain of the large shiny as he arced to coil neatly around Aonith's display, his tail flicking out in a less violent - clearly mocking - imitation of her own strike at him. Of course, he didn't flip end over end as she had. Superfluous move, and it made it all too easy to avoid. Run, greenie. And hope your boys are more useful than they look.
Inocenth gave Aonith her head, then, watching the fool green flip and turn and bound through the air like a weyrling who'd first found her wings and who needed to try everything that came to mind as it did, to find their limits. That's right, little mare (nevermind that she was larger than he himself) waste your energy on useless displays. You'll regret it later when your energy runs dry and mine still burns hot. He was never one to back down from a challenge, and she'd made hers all too clear, too. Disappointed he was in her. Hers had been trying to kill His - or, if not trying to kill, then doing things that were deadly nonetheless had they gone as she planned (he was not convinced either of the greenpair was smart enough to know consequences) and it was in that context that he'd taken her by the throat so that she couldn't interfere. Quite disappointed that his current favorite was so blind and hateful. Well, hate or love, he'd take what was his.
Other males and Aonith's desire be damned.
Once she'd been given enough time to grow complacent in her false safety - and some of her energy had been soughed off - Inocenth suddenly spurred forward, releasing the speed he'd been holding back. Small, he only finished half the green flights by being smarter with how he used his energy. By all rights he was too small to outlast even a slightly larger than average green. Deadly speed, and as he fell in just behind her wingstrokes to the left, he matched her move for move all too easily, reading the blaring broadcast her muscles gave before she turned into another pretty little turn. Pointless. So close she could not evade him, and it would take quite a bit of effort for her to put distance between them again. He rolled beneath her, trailing the curve of claw harmlessly along her abdomen. A kill had his claws been turned for rending. Then, on her opposite side, he lashed out with a snap of teeth at the trailing edge of her wingsail. Fly, little lamb. I'll see you blowing before I take you, he whispered, falsely sweet.
Where the first two bugles hadn't awoken him, the third did as it echoed through the canyon, F'ur jerking from his light sleep with a muddled curse, half-kneeling in the coil of limbs. A sudden shiver at the loss of warmth, and fingers caught his sleeve, a low murmur of protest that was part questioning from the man beneath him. He looked down upon the slitted eyes, kissing the curve of neck with surprising tenderness. His fingers trailed through the hair of his kitten. Damn Inocenth. Him and his violent urgings that made staying with his weyrmate an option F'ur couldn't take; he wouldn't savage the man as his Flight partners always were. "Inocenth's being a snot," he murmured, in answer to the unspoken question. Extracting himself from the other bluerider, he laid a kiss upon his jaw again to quell the look in the other's eyes. "A Flight." Furs were caught up and bunched over his weyrmate, bare feet curling in the almost-warmth of the feline hides that decorated the floor of their weyr randomly.
He slipped out the door and headed for the Flight room, cursing his blue every which way in the process. A woman was bad enough, but Dorava made him consider actually throwing himself off a weyrledge. Shardblasted woman.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Aug 4, 2010 19:14:05 GMT -5
Long hours practicing with his wing were showing for Ruskeath. No longer did he have to work quite so hard to keep up with the agile greens. He still wasn't as fast, by far, but they would have a harder time losing him with their Kierjaarth. It seemed he would just have to work harder to gain her favor. Scooping the air with his wings, he rose higher above the canyon. Aonith was like a leaf on the wind and eternally more beautiful.
Ruskeath was so focused on the pursuit of his one desire, that he didn't see Innocenth until he appeared close behind her. The larger brown growled at his rival's movements. He was getting awfully close and after Aonith had dismissed him. It wasn't right that he should keep dogging her like that. As yet, he had not drawn blood, but Ruskeath didn't feel like giving him that chance. He was not a violent dragon, by nature, but the chase made his blood run hot with emotions. Anger was not so far from passion. Even so, charging Innocenth would be a fruitless effort. The small blue would easily dodge him and he would loose precious speed.
Growling his frustration, Ruskeath pushed himself higher, his rust colored back blazing in the morning sun. He arched above Aonith and turned nose down. Twisting his body in a fast spin, he lashed out at Innocenth with his tail as he passed. It wouldn't likely come close to him, more of a warning. Ruskeath didn't like dragons who went against a female's wishes. Leveling out below them, he crooned assurances to Aonith. Such a darling jewel deserved so much better than he could give, but he would stay as long as she wished. Whatever challenges she placed, he would follow.
G'tor stumbled into the flightroom, shirtless and shivering. It was lucky it was so cold and he'd actually thought to wear pants last night. His mind was confused, even more so than usually. Ruskeath was angry about something, but there was no danger here. Only lovely Dorova and the other chasers were here. Shaking his head, G'tor beamed at the woman he'd been seeking. She was worth a thousand early wake up calls and more, he was certain.
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Lotty
Shiny Hoarder
Rider Mi?rah Rider K?sel Rider Osnat Healer Raebeli
Posts: 1,020
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Post by Lotty on Aug 4, 2010 22:18:59 GMT -5
Just because he didn't doubt there would be other suitors didn't mean he couldn't be just as grumpy about it all either way. Really he couldn't mind all too much, Innocenth and Ruskeath were wingmates and it was good to see that this sort of affair was one for Ephemerae. Sure, Innocenth was just as much an instigator as he was, but the bronze liked to think that he was so much more classy about it. Such a rogue that blue was with his garish, violent ways. Kierjaarth could be just as malicious and snapped at blue as he dove past his nose. Didn't catch a thing, but he wasn't trying either, the reaction was a warning: he was bitter, he was old, and this time unlike Jingth's chase he was not just playing around.
So yes, the combination of agitation and flight lust did something to change the mood of the bronze in an instant, and even his wingsecond, Ruskeath, would be wise to give him some distance in the race as the creature growled and turned to take his first big dive in the chase. The softest touch from the green was at least a little bit of motivation to carry on with the flight and not instead get caught up plotting horrible, horrible, ways to get back at the insolent blue in the end.
Really, the others would have to go - to some degree - ignored for the sake of his flight. Greens were sharding fast, and it took half his effort just to keep them in his sights half the time, but at very least he was limber enough to keep at a respectable pace unlike the other over sized mega metallics that seemed to dominate the weyr. Winging his way up, Kierjaarth could do little in the way of mimicking Aonith's moves, but it was probably for the best as the bronze figured that female dragons were not at all different from the two legged counterparts. They usually wanted what they didn't have already.
....and Mi'rah finally made it. So, he was barefooted and his pants were baggy and clearly for sleeping in and his shirt had to be one of his least favorite in his collection (to think that he would wear light blue as opposed to black was preposterous) but the man made it to the flight rooms without having a complete tizzy over his dragon's behavior and that in itself was a success. Sure, the bronzerider was a little wobbly from stiff morning muscles and the power of the flight descending on his brain made him a good deal dizzy, but it was nothing that standing against a wall couldn't fix. Now, if Dorava could just stop spinning...
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Post by dragon on Aug 4, 2010 23:25:01 GMT -5
Aonith was pleased to note yet another fine male joining in her moment of glory. And so polite, too, with that touch. She brushed his mind in return, acknowledging the introduction and approving. She had no idea why he was grinning like that, but she really didn't care either. So long as it did not involve his biting her as Inocenth was threatening. Getting raced, if only for a split instant, was an exhilarating rush that got her completely pumped for a moment. Aonith crowed as she spun away, twirling happily for those few moments.
And then Inocenth returned. Again. Harassing her as before, insulting her again. Aonith snarled at him, tucking her wings for an instant as he snapped at them. Rolling suddenly sideways to get her sails away from his teeth, she snarled in return. What part of go away didn't you get?! I want no part of you and your sadistic games. Aonith answered, bitingly. It was point blank, too. She was not going to play his game. He got too much pleasure out of driving dragons insane. Aonith did not want any part in it, and as a result deliberately dropped speed and altitude even as she rolled away again, away from that talon.
She had endured so much already, she was hardly worried about getting wounded. Killed, yes. But Inocenth hadn't killed her yet, and he'd had ample opportunity. Aonith was not a fighting dragon. She was a fast dragon, who liked to be friendly. Hers was the one who slew dragons. She was taking a gamble, she knew. But she was calling his bluff. He would not hurt her, and he also would not try to steal her. If he did, she would lay into him. The threat shown perfectly by all her teeth showing at him as she dropped back, allowing the rest of the flight to catch up again.
Which, she thought after she did it, might be a good thing. For, much to her pleasure, both her brown and her bronze were making nasty gestures at Inocenth. While under normal circumstances, she would not have tolerated this sort of display in one of her flights, this was far from normal. Never before had a male treated her like this in her flight. It made her feel better to know that she was not the only one taking exception to Inocenth's actions. She was not the one being unreasonable!
Yanking upward, she slid between Ruskeath and Kierjaarth, knowing that in doing so she had yanked most of the wind out of the nasty little blue's sails. These two had shown their displeasure with Inocenth, and she was grateful for it. It placed them in her graces, it did. She liked to think that should Inocenth get nasty, these two would come to her aid. And with the three of them flying as they were, Inocenth would have no room to dodge them. He might dodge one, but in doing so fly himself right into the teeth and talons of the next. So here it was she felt safe from his atrocious behavior and sadistic methods.
He would see her blowing eh? Fat chance! Aonith figured she could outfly the little snot. But she was not going to give him the satisfaction of trying to keep up with her. No. She would not play his game. This was her game! She twirled again in the air, crooning to those males who had the decency to treat her like the lady she was, calling to them and urging them on. One of them, not that ugly little twerp, would win her favors!
So, deliberately, she did not leave behind the bigger, slower males, instead taking them with her as she ascended into the sky once more. Where they were favored by the wide open air, with their steady stamina. It was in obstacle courses that blues and greens outshone the browns and bronzes ... and Aonith was not of a mind to set a stage where Inocenth could show anyone at all up. Instead, she wanted him to realize the fool he was making of himself. She would take this flight high, higher. Where the biggest challenge was gravity, where power was predominant. Power, something that of the lot, Inocenth had the least of!
Turning her attentions away from the aggravating sore that was Inocenth, Aonith admired the other three. Sleek, shiny Kierjaath, a fine bronze and her esteemed Wingleader. A very nice looking fellow indeed. Even if bronzes were a tad on the big side for greens, Aonith was not a small green, and she also had learned to appreciate the nature of bronzes since coming to Selenitas. Indeed, nearly all of her flights since arriving had been won by bronzes.
And then there was Ruskeath. Lovely, red-brown hide of his, gleaming in good condition in the sun. Not shiny, like the bronze, but attractive in its own, earthly way. Nice and sturdy, with a good head screwed onto his lovely neck!
Sonarth was a dragon she was not very familiar with, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Not only had he shown the grace to show up for her, and showed a genuine interest, but he had had the courtesy down pat, announcing himself. In any event, he was better than that other blue thing in the sky at the moment.
Inocenth was not even considered. She would not take him. Faranth be flamed and chew her wings and tail off before she'd even consider him. He was a flying menace who seemed to only delight in creating pain in those around him. She saw him only as a blight upon the sky he flew in, soiling it with his presence. He was certainly ruining her flight with his antics. Taking the fun, exhilarating event and turning it onto just another calculated, strategized maneuver. But there was one thing good of it all; it showed Aonith who she could count on to be reasonable and sane!
All in all, though, she was still a green. A stout green or not, she was still green. She knew that this was going to come to an end very quickly, and she was going to have to figure out which of the decent three were worth her attentions very soon. Especially with the strenuous, slow beat of climbing against gravity into the sky, as if she were gold and not green. She really did prefer to fly in the trees, but all that had changed and stolen from her.
In the flight room, Dorava's twirling dance around the room came to a stop as Aonith's fun ended. Her gaze leveled upon those who entered the space to join her. Ahh, her lovely fellows. First came Katar-Sonarth. A fellow she didn't know well at all. But she still received Dorava's greeting in kind as Aonith answered Sonarth's. A soft sound in the base of her throat, and she watched as Katar was followed in by G'tor.
Some part of Dorava was still aware enough to know shivering when she saw it, and felt bad for the man. The nurturing part of Aonith took over from there, overwhelming the normally hesitant Dorava. She stripped her nightshift off in one fell swoop, leaving her standing in nothing but her turndaysuit. Stepping forward toward the man, she welcomed him into the flight even as she draped the dry and warm garment around his shoulders as if it were a small blanket.
There, he shoudn't be cold for much longer~~~
Dorava drew him in further by the corners of her own shift, never actually touching him in person. Releasing the garment, her attention shifted to Mi'rah as he arrived. She did not see disheveled Mi'rah, instead seeing the stately Kierjaarth in all his shiny glory. As such, his bit of dizziness really confused her, as it just didn't seem to fit. Grabbing him by the edges of his loose shirt front, she hauled him across the room over to where the other two were also, before releasing him and twirling away again, completely comfortable in the closer proximity between the three. Besides, them all being together helped keep the area around them warmer~
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Aug 5, 2010 18:39:40 GMT -5
Inocenth's croon met the sharp, snarling words. Impossible to tell if it was a mocking one or not; he remained wordless, and as she drew up in defiance, daring him to bite or slash, to claim her, the male backwinged, swirling almost languidly around her - and entirely ignoring Ruskeath's tail lash, as he wouldn't risk anything too close to the green and Inocenth had yet to leave her zone of discomfort. The blue knew empty threats when he saw them. Kierjaarth's snapping teeth were nothing more than a warning not to involve the bronze, and Ruskeath...How noble. Tch. Taking advantage of Aonith's disfavor to lash out at another suitor - and no, he didn't claim himself not to be one. Snarls and flashing teeth aside, it would not be the first time he'd captured a female out of mid-air, and Aonith was no different than those. The teeth meant little. Her fury was...intoxicating.
Inocenth did so enjoy this green. Even her arrogance. Perhaps especially her arrogance.
The casual loops about her slowing form were taken so tightly, so controlled, that there wasn't a moment where the brush of wing or tail, of snout or limb, didn't carress her palely glowing form. His mind brushed hers with a coolness that was less chill and more soothe. You've fire, but you don't see, he told her privately, the words a soft brush, gentle as what might be given to a child. I don't hold protecting Yours against you. Chiding. Fire I admire, and I'll take your hate, but it would be so much better if you'd play. All he wanted, really, a playmate to match his chill with fire, but Aonith's pride and competitive edge blinded her. The same things that made him want to keep her kept her from being his. Irony.
Sadistic. Inocenth was damaged, perhaps, unable to appreciate what amounted to playing in others. His games more resembled the war that had formed him. The lazy lightness of the southern dragons - an atmosphere that seemed to draw in his own brethren the longer they remained - bored him. It took insults and feints and attempts at grabbing to get them to spark alive, and most of the time he didn't feel it worth the effort, to try to awaken the dead. This one wasn't dead, though, but she'd slumber, too, if none challenged that pretty little sense of safety, or so he feared. Then there was only Ekarth, a blue and no mate, and Rinagth who gathered her males like pawns. It was almost depressing. If that was sadism, then let them call him a sadist. He didn't consort with the dead.
Allowing the larger males to pass on either side, his last pass took him over the direct line of her back, brushing her tail and coiling his own partly around hers before he fell downward a few dozen feet, spiraling in lazy circles. A guard detail formed against him? Too easy to penetrate, and once there, they wouldn't touch him for fear of Aonith. Amused at the idea. It was inventive, but probably didn't fulfill the goal she'd set for it. Would they indulge her, he wondered? A mere guard, commanded to follow her without thought or will? Window dressing? Some males might be so humble as that - or willing to play at it for a chance at tail - but greens were no queens of anything. They needed the males to chase, to quell the fire, no matter how much they pretended at superiority. Let her satisfy herself if she thought herself so far above the ones who followed. Inocenth had no respect for a male who would roll over and follow like a tame mouse, taking each command, solely to twine and sate his own urges. Pussies.
So as she ascended, struggling against the heights, he paid no heed to those dragons who would trade their individuality and freedom for tail, and instead guaged the remaining strength in his wings. Enough. Just enough for a final play, such as it was. Inocenth's narrow wings - wings made for lift, cutting out much of the drag that a broader wingspan struggled against - sliced through the air, moving so swiftly as to create a faint hum. Others were made to soar. Inocenth was made to fly, and if that meant he tired before all the others, it was a price he willingly paid. None commanded the air like he did as long as his energy remained. His body tucked tight, canted just enough with the wind to reduce air resistance to almost nothing, his wings pistoned, jetting him up, up, higher at a speed that he couldn't maintain for more than a minute. Even a falter would let the fatigue creep in and he wouldn't be able to keep it up. But a minute was all he needed, and he didn't falter, shooting straight up above Aonith and her vanguard and pinwheeling, the shadow of his narrow wings falling on those below as he hung suspended for a few precious seconds.
Another private touch. He didn't care what perceptions the other males got, would relish their antagonism on the morrow, in fact. Inocenth liked his privacy. Let them think Aonith was the same to him as Rinagth, or Feyrianth, or that other little weyrling green he'd attempted to snatch from the sky before she could go running to her pet bronzie. Images were easy to create but hard to maintain, after all, and he liked his. Thus the words were private. Dive, flame. Mantle your wings. Straight down, and one of your pretty fanboys may have you. Give me a nose of twenty degrees, and I'll carry you. But dive. Your wings have been hurt enough; you don't belong on the ground. No one else had to know he'd given her a choice.
Inocenth's wings snapped, and he plunged for the knot of dragonhide, the enemy of a moment before - gravity - drawing him down now like an old lover.
It was different. And not. The bluerider's scowl should have been unnerving to anyone, even rumpled and scruffy before his shave as F'ur was. He stood in the doorway, eyeing the naked woman with an ironic twist to his lips that was almost a sneer. Inocenth had taken a few favorites over the turns, but none since Selenitas, and it frankly surprised the older man that he'd taken a shining to a green here. Surprised and displeased him, though only in the sense of who the sharding green was bonded to. Of all the dragons in the Weyr, why this one? No matter. No doubt Aonith would have no clue as to just what kind of rare treatment she was receiving - or appreciate it if she did realize.
He shouldered his way into the room just the same, insinuating his wiry frame between two of the other riders and reaching out for her arm. He had no intention of grabbing her before Inocenth did - no intention of grabbing her at all if the blue's gamble on a new favorite fell flat - but the others didn't need to know that. (Dorava was all too capable of snatching up another of the men if Inocenth caught, given how much bad blood there was between the two riders, but F'ur wasn't going to deal with the awkwardness of jumping an unwilling man and then having to work with him the next day in wing drills. Surprisingly enough that was mildly - mildly - more distasteful than that...woman.)
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Aug 5, 2010 21:34:35 GMT -5
Ruskeath calmed quickly. He just didn't have it in him to stay angry for very long, and Innocenth hadn't outright attack Aonith as yet. So long as all he did was play his little games, Ruskeath would allow it. Maybe he was old fashioned, but he liked his chases to be fun and exhilarating, not violent. Unless the green wanted it, of course, but then, he rarely chased those kinds of greens. Aonith wasn't like that though and she wasn't one of the young weyrlings he'd chased recently. She had cunning, and it was bound to make things more interesting, even without crazy blues.
Aonith drew close, between him and Kierjaath, and Ruskeath felt his heart sore with the wind. He was pleased she was not angry with them. He really had let his emotions get the better of him, but so long as she was happy it was worth it. He crooned adoringly at her. It was kind of her to include them so, but she really shouldn't trouble herself. Surely she could go much faster. Still, if it was protection she wanted, he would never let her down. His mind knew that he would be able to do much against a fast opponent, but his heart did not care. He would much rather Innocenth's claws found his hide than hers.
Ruskeath put on speed, keeping pace with Aonith and the others. He could sense Innocenth was above them, but it was impossible to tell what he might be planning. Banking on his wings, he rolled over slowly to get a better looked at his surroundings. He also wanted Aonith to see that he could be agile too, despite his size. The blue was diving now, coming fast like an arrow. Ruskeath's spread his wings wide, offering a shield in case Innocenth wanted more than just to prove his speed. The brown almost wished Aonith would dive too. He loved diving.
The cold certainly did not last. G'tor didn't even need the shift, simple the closeness of Dorova was enough to set his blood boiling. She was a bold one, and no mistake. Most females waiting until choosing before undressing, but he wasn't complaining. Ruskeath's mind urged him to lean closer. Not close enough to touch, of course, but to offer a sheltering presence. He didn't mind being near the other males. If Dorova wanted them there, he was content to stay.
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Post by tarra on Aug 5, 2010 23:27:39 GMT -5
(EDIT: Have realised this post is pretty badly oriented - it was written at work, heh - and I've made some changes to some descriptions/actions which were at odds with where everyone else was XD )
Sonarth knew his competition, having seized them up even as he reveled in Aonith's pleasure at his playful race against her. Knew too that the greatest threat was Inocenth and the greatest danger Kierjaath - the former was all out to win (and win by any means possible); the latter would do as much damage as he could, win or lose regardless. In love now, as in war, he danced with death and injury inherent - every move a chance to be taken, every step a risk. But it was fortunate that Ruskaeth had calmed -- his non-aggressiveness was an asset in that he would add little to that volatile equation.
Kierjaath was the lesser concern at this point however. Unless the bronze managed to close with him, there was little he could do against Sonarth's natural speed. Inocenth was the one to watch - smaller and quicker of wing, openly aggressive even as he was teasing. Older he was and more experienced, but the younger blue would not be denied. Two could play at this game, and if Inocenth thought he was the only one who had ever been in a real dragon-battle, he could go eat his tail. Sonarth was not stupid, but he could be as reckless in flight as his rider was ruthless in need, and unafraid of showing it. And his blood was thrilling at the challenge before him.
With a quick twist of wings he neared the pair even as Inocenth flew loops around her, the older blue's actions so contained he was in near-constant contact with Aonith. It was superb flying, but Sonarth was all out to show he was no slouch himself. His timing was near flawless as he took advantage of the other blue's preoccupation with the green to run his own circles around them, his innate control ensuring he was always on the opposite side of Aonith from the smaller male. Like Inocenth he trailed a soft brush of his tail or a flick from his wingtips on Aonith every now and then as he looped; but his main intent - only too clear in his elegant but efficient movements - was to get in on the dance, on the aerial tango. His flight formed a three-fold curve with Aonith's beauty and Inocenth's contained aggression (or was it playfulness?).
And to show the older blue, of course, that he wasn't the only chaser who could fly and play as he wished.
Sonarth overflew both for a brief instant, jaws parted in his trademark grin as his wings mantled over both for what might be a threat, or the hint of one. He looped away just as Inocenth made a final pass over Aonith whilst coiling his tail briefly with hers in the process - and took the moment to snake his own tail at Inocenth's back. A hit perhaps if the blue failed to see him, but if not then a subtle warning of his own. He had more stamina than the smaller dragon did, and though younger might outlast him yet. Anticipating a backlash he drove up and aside away from all of them even as the other blue fell away a few dozen feet, giving space to the entire pack. Twisting back with a twirl of his tail for fun, he spiraled back to rejoin them just as...
...a faint hum of wings and he saw Inocenth shoot upwards past him, his wingsails a powerhouse despite his size as he shot straight up and then...hovered. The lithe blue brought his own flash speed into play as he fled like a whipcrack towards Aonith, seeing the move before it came. The older blue would dive, catch her, and it would all be over. Just like that. And Sonarth was not about to accept that.
Skirting Kierjaath and Ruskaeth, wary of their size and the heft of their jaws, he was a blue streak coming at Aonith from one side, ready to take her and pull her aside with him, away from the diving blue's claws. His mind reached out ahead, brushing hers as wordlessly as he had done before.
I will take you from him, that mental touch said, just a pulse to indicate his incoming direction, his speed, his intent.
*************
Inside the flightroom Katar was fuming so much she almost forgot to smile back at Dorava, and only caught herself in time to flash her a wry up-turn of lips. Stupid stupid dragon, taking advantage of her exhaustion to make his flight - and with a female rider for that! What did he think he was doing?! The sky wheeled all around her as Sonarth danced, and she whirled with him. The lust was overpowering now, enflamed by the rush of wings and tension brought on with Inocenth's actions, and with a final protest she surrendered to the blazing images of sun and sky and glorious green.
Glazed turned to Dorava, and there was just enough humanness left in her to smile warmly, gently. Dancing in little mincing steps, she made circles around the other woman even as the wheeling sky with its flashes of blue and green around her. A dive away, a dazzling whirl back to the pack, then suddenly she saw only a blue form as another dragon came from above. Almost without thought she turned at glare at F'ur, daring him. And daring his dragon to take the green so early. What a party-pooper.
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Lotty
Shiny Hoarder
Rider Mi?rah Rider K?sel Rider Osnat Healer Raebeli
Posts: 1,020
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Post by Lotty on Aug 6, 2010 23:31:53 GMT -5
One thing Kierjaarth wasn't was tired. Of course, it helped to be a bronze, and a bronze who knew well enough not to be trying any silly little aerial tricks. This was not his first flight, and he rarely won on the merits of his maneuvers so much as using some smarts and being in the right place at the right time. It was for that reason he was not bothered by the green shooting up in between he and Ruskeath. Let him be some kind of rear guard, but that was a useless plan if Aonith were to think of it. The bronze would have a better chance of helping if he were to descend from above. Ambling after an already faster blue with a much greater knack for gaining height was a silly move if anything. Of course the dragon knew all of this, he had to of, he was alive still after all of those turns at Benden after all.
If he were a more modest creature like his rider he would be wondering for what reason the green was pleased with him so. But he wasn't Mi'rah, he was a veteran bronze dragon who knew very well how his hide shined and what effects that had in the jeweled eyes of the greens he courted.
The climb up was not hard, if a bit slow coming. A little more effort it took on his part to get him to rise to her heights, but all in all worth it since he had the extra energy to burn anyway. Not being such a show off rewarded him with that much, and for what use did he have barrel rolls or loop de loops anyway? The whole flight had seemed to have passed much to quickly for such shenanigans, and he knew that the brightest flames were always out in a flash. Not that he wasn't at all graceful mind you, he did make every movement in the sky graceful and streamlined and for all intensive purposes, apparently effortless. His tail snaking behind him in gentle s curves was his way of throwing in subtle "flair".
Without even a hint of stereotypical unwieldiness that his kind were so often saddled with, the dragon slowed even further to hang in the air as he watched the green hit what he assumed was her zenith. Could one even go any further before being blinded by Rukbat? Could you reach out and touch a star at that height? Nonetheless it was not the place for dragons to be - not even that snot Innocenth - and he knew that from there Aonith could only do what the law of gravity commanded and fall from there.
Oh hey! He was being grabbed by his shirt front and it was all just too sudden that he couldn't even get in the chance to sputter about being careful with his shirt. Nevermind the fact that he didn't like the garment, and potential wrinkles and rips should be the last thing on his mind in a flight. Honestly, the only time tearing should have a place up in the nogin was if he were to think the words "tear it up tiger", a phrase that was most un-Mi'rah like anyway. No, he was more than willing to just stand there...a very unexciting participant if there ever was one, just watching as Katar danced around naked Dorava. Watching and waiting and wringing his hands out of habit; alternately wiping lust born sweat from his forehead.
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Post by dragon on Aug 7, 2010 20:11:03 GMT -5
Aonith found herself in a quandry indeed. Two blues coming at her at top speed from two different directions and two larger males, while they held her attention, did not seem terribly inclined to make their own bids. Other than being there.
Inocenth was being bossy, as usual, too. Trying to get her to do as he wanted. Simply because he wanted her to. Telling her that she only had so many options, and she had to take one. She knew sharding well she had more options than that, and even considered taking some of them just to prove her point. She could leave all these males in her dust. The two blues too tired to keep up, and the other two, too slow.
But it was not to be. Aonith wished to be flown, after all. It was not a decision she made deliberately, flying more on instinct and drive than anything else. Operating as only a green or a really small blue could, she suddenly folded back on herself, going from flying up to zooming downward. Practically vanish right out of the cloud of males, she did, leaving an empty place where she used to be. Wings folded but not closed, she shot straight downward.
She loved her bronzes, but she also liked them attentive. Aonith was not averse to browns, and while she appreciated Ruskeath's protective maneuver, she did not wish him hurt. Sonarth, while he had fine potential, he was just too young for her tastes. He did not have the experience to back up those implied threats he had been making. Inocenth ... that was a whole other basket. Aonith had done her best to run that particular individual off. But like the ornery old snot that he was, he had not taken the hint, and had plagued her throughout her entire flight, even making like to steal her or hurt her. Nothing quite so aggravating as that!
So she left them all behind, each and every one. But only for a heartbeat. For a single heartbeat she plummeted, straight down toward Pern once more. When it seemed that it was what she intended, though, her wings canted and her tail whipped through the air with precision, bringing her body around in the air, wings flaring oh so slightly but not truly opening. For she was certainly headed downward.
But now she flew at the angle Inocenth had requested of her. She had made her point; she did it not because he said to, but because she had chosen to. Not because she had been flown to death or browbeat, but because something about him, somewhere along the way, intrigued her. Aonith did not know what, how, or why. But she had made her choice, if privately. Only she and he knew that she had. Aonith certainly could not fathom how the dragon she had most astutely denied and told off, in the end had managed to wiggle his way from no sharding way, to winning.
Twisting her wings slightly, Aonith executed a slow roll in the air even while maintaining the angled descent with precision. Wings flaring just a bit more open and canting backward, the green zoomed along upside down, taloned feet flaring toward the sky above her as she waited to be claimed.
She could understand the need to be secret, to try and preserve one's image. She could not argue with that. So she did not rat him out. Come, then. Let us fly. she invited, lips wrinkling up to bare all of her distinctly carnivorous teeth in a grisly display. This time, however, they were not pointed at Inocenth.
In the flight room, Dorava suddenly dove to one side, away from them all in mimicry of Aonith's maneuver. But in the flash of movement that brought that along, she had also snaked one arm out to catch F'ur's arm in her grasp, fingers closing around his wrist and hauling him along with her. She twisted and almost made like she was either going to wrench away from the bluerider, or throw him into the wall. But Dorava ultimately did neither, instead twisting right up against him, claiming him as Aonith had chosen Inocenth.
There was hardly any Dorava left in the woman, in that instant. She was all wound up in the intoxicating fire of her dragon's need, only enough aware of her own person to know that she did not posses wings, and that hands were for grabbing things instead of walking on. Grabbing things like F'ur, and hauling him in closer. Purring like a contented feline, Dorava rubbed her chest on his, hooking one leg around his, fingers cinched around his biceps in a powerful grip that spoke of a youth spent milking beasts.
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