18.Jun.13, 06:29 PM
Are you sure you should be eating that?
No.
Then...oh, whatever. I'm going back to bed. Having actually made it halfway out of bed in genuine concern before deciding that Caxith was neither at risk of genuine harm or particularly receptive to communication, T’rielle threw himself back down, on top of the sheets. Such was quite par to the norm for Caxith’s pre-flight proddiness. It was one of the rare times when the green dragon was actually more dramatic than T’rielle, and on some level the greenrider recognized it (and sometimes even enjoyed it, when he wasn't busy being proddy himself). He was smart enough to realize that proddy meant impending flight, but he was also stubborn enough to be convinced that the actual flight was not going to be happening that day. Always tomorrow. Then the next day. Or the next.
Sighing contentedly, T’rielle wrapped his arms snugly around his pillow and closed his eyes again, trying to ignore Caxith’s inner monologuing and get back to sleep. He was restless--ridiculously so--and that just irritated him more. Sleeping like the dead was something that T’rielle usually excelled at, so on these occasions it was frustrating when he couldn't drop off to sleep on command. It was, frankly, far too early to be up and functioning without a good reason (and he would never understand Caxith’s love for early mornings, he really wouldn't), and he would be dragged out of bed kicking and screaming.
Which was, unfortunately, exactly what happened when Caxith let out an angry mental hiss. T’rielle bolted to his feet, at first thinking that something had happened. Well, it had. But not in the manner that T’rielle initially thought. “Oh.” The green dragon's mental presence was not gentle at the best of times, and it took a lot more effort than was strictly necessary for T’rielle to locate a shirt and pull it on. By that point Caxith had disentangled herself from the storage shed she'd been ransacking (glows, really?) and was now crouching tense, tail lashing from side to side. She remained that way for a long moment with swirling red-violet eyes before gathering herself and launching into the air with a loud screech. On the ground, T'rielle's eyes automatically followed the dragon's path, though he couldn't see her. Caxith's voice, while normally rather low anyway, was velvety smooth and sultry as she did a lazy roll in midair before powering forward and up.Come and get me, boys.
Then...oh, whatever. I'm going back to bed. Having actually made it halfway out of bed in genuine concern before deciding that Caxith was neither at risk of genuine harm or particularly receptive to communication, T’rielle threw himself back down, on top of the sheets. Such was quite par to the norm for Caxith’s pre-flight proddiness. It was one of the rare times when the green dragon was actually more dramatic than T’rielle, and on some level the greenrider recognized it (and sometimes even enjoyed it, when he wasn't busy being proddy himself). He was smart enough to realize that proddy meant impending flight, but he was also stubborn enough to be convinced that the actual flight was not going to be happening that day. Always tomorrow. Then the next day. Or the next.
Sighing contentedly, T’rielle wrapped his arms snugly around his pillow and closed his eyes again, trying to ignore Caxith’s inner monologuing and get back to sleep. He was restless--ridiculously so--and that just irritated him more. Sleeping like the dead was something that T’rielle usually excelled at, so on these occasions it was frustrating when he couldn't drop off to sleep on command. It was, frankly, far too early to be up and functioning without a good reason (and he would never understand Caxith’s love for early mornings, he really wouldn't), and he would be dragged out of bed kicking and screaming.
Which was, unfortunately, exactly what happened when Caxith let out an angry mental hiss. T’rielle bolted to his feet, at first thinking that something had happened. Well, it had. But not in the manner that T’rielle initially thought. “Oh.” The green dragon's mental presence was not gentle at the best of times, and it took a lot more effort than was strictly necessary for T’rielle to locate a shirt and pull it on. By that point Caxith had disentangled herself from the storage shed she'd been ransacking (glows, really?) and was now crouching tense, tail lashing from side to side. She remained that way for a long moment with swirling red-violet eyes before gathering herself and launching into the air with a loud screech. On the ground, T'rielle's eyes automatically followed the dragon's path, though he couldn't see her. Caxith's voice, while normally rather low anyway, was velvety smooth and sultry as she did a lazy roll in midair before powering forward and up.