24.Aug.13, 09:14 PM
Nope, Z'jan hadn't given a thought to thorns. Or the fact he was barefoot and there were thorns. Or that his man parts were swinging in the breeze, and therefore were also susceptible to thorns. No, none of that occurred to him. (despite having been attacked by thorns not a candlemark earlier.)
No, the only thing he was thinking about was escaping O'wain's clutches. He'd managed to evade O'wain's first reach, but it had been a very close call. The bloody brownrider had jumped the gun. Fucker, he grinned to himself. Then again, Z'jan had cheated earlier. So they were both fuckers.
Z'jan streaked (literally) through the woods, O'wain at his heels. What had inspired him to head into the woods, and not the water, after all? At first, he wasn't sure himself. Then he heard Ghalath's far off rumble. That's why. While his sexual exploits hardly bothered her, he'd never been able to get over the 'being watched' feeling that it gave him. While he loved an audience during parties, or company when out adventuring, having someone else inside your head when you were fucking?.... eh, weird. To say the least.
As the woods got denser, Z'jan began to realize he'd been pretty stupid to take this route. His chest and arms were already flecked with thorn-pricks, and while his feet were tough from constant barefoot adventures, they were still starting to get tender from the constant barrage of tree needles and breaking twigs beneath them.
Oh, and O'wain was gaining on him.
He took a sharp right, heading for a thick clump of foliage... thinking to loose O'wain in the brush. The 'brush,' however, turned out to be a hedgerow of thick, thorny bushes. Z'jan skidded to a stop. Trapped! He wheeled around, throwing up his hands.
"SURRENDER, I surrender! Just don't run me into the thorns!" he laugh-shouted in O'wain's direction. He couldn't see the brownrider yet, and the turn he'd taken had been pretty sharp. Z'jan swallowed. The idea of O'wain barreling into him and knocking them both, butt naked, into the spines... well, it was something he'd really like to avoid. He could only hope the older rider's reflexes were as quick as his own.
No, the only thing he was thinking about was escaping O'wain's clutches. He'd managed to evade O'wain's first reach, but it had been a very close call. The bloody brownrider had jumped the gun. Fucker, he grinned to himself. Then again, Z'jan had cheated earlier. So they were both fuckers.
Z'jan streaked (literally) through the woods, O'wain at his heels. What had inspired him to head into the woods, and not the water, after all? At first, he wasn't sure himself. Then he heard Ghalath's far off rumble. That's why. While his sexual exploits hardly bothered her, he'd never been able to get over the 'being watched' feeling that it gave him. While he loved an audience during parties, or company when out adventuring, having someone else inside your head when you were fucking?.... eh, weird. To say the least.
As the woods got denser, Z'jan began to realize he'd been pretty stupid to take this route. His chest and arms were already flecked with thorn-pricks, and while his feet were tough from constant barefoot adventures, they were still starting to get tender from the constant barrage of tree needles and breaking twigs beneath them.
Oh, and O'wain was gaining on him.
He took a sharp right, heading for a thick clump of foliage... thinking to loose O'wain in the brush. The 'brush,' however, turned out to be a hedgerow of thick, thorny bushes. Z'jan skidded to a stop. Trapped! He wheeled around, throwing up his hands.
"SURRENDER, I surrender! Just don't run me into the thorns!" he laugh-shouted in O'wain's direction. He couldn't see the brownrider yet, and the turn he'd taken had been pretty sharp. Z'jan swallowed. The idea of O'wain barreling into him and knocking them both, butt naked, into the spines... well, it was something he'd really like to avoid. He could only hope the older rider's reflexes were as quick as his own.