16.Apr.19, 10:17 AM
Thallyath screeched, the sound part challenge, and part satisfaction as the sky lit with dragons of all three colours, chasing the shimmering gold of her tail. She was too filled with the blood of her kills, and the lust that was fuelling her, to be offended by the blues and browns who thought themselves good enough to chase her. She knew – from Casa, from her own instincts – that they were not worthy, but despite this, as the flight went on, she found them far more challenging to outmanoeuvre.
The bronzes were large – many of them quite a bit larger than herself – and while Thallyath was gold, she was small, perhaps smaller than even the pre-plague golds had been. Certainly, she was far smaller than any of her golden siblings – and markedly smaller than any of the bronzes, and a fair chunk of the browns. Admittedly, and much to her chagrin, Thallyath was even smaller than the occasional blue. So, really, if one wanted to be completely logical – and Thallayth, when she wasn’t furious with lust, was a very logical creature – it was really only natural that the blues and browns would be the ones who truly ended up vying against one another for the chance to capture her as she shot through the springtime sky.
The bronzes were the first of her chases to realise they were at a disadvantage, and act rashly as a response – Thallyath shrieked and spat like a cornered feline as she twisted and zipped away from their snatching claws, most of them easily evaded though a few came closer than she cared to admit. It really wasn’t long after that that they began to fall away, much similar to when they chased a green. Too quick, too easy to manoeuvre between their larger and slower moving forms. Thallyath shrieked at them, taunting and insulting in her wordless cries. Useless. Pathetic. Unworthy!
Despite her desire to be the best and most magnificent gold to blaze through the sky, Thallyath was a maiden, but more, while she was fully grown and matured, she and Casa were prone to laziness and disinclined to fly overmuch; she simply didn’t have the physical fitness that other dragons might have, be them gold, green or otherwise. So, while her flight lasted much longer than the average green, Thallyath found herself waning as dinnertime approached, and a glance back showed her a thinned group, though it was still spectacularly colourful; the shimmering bronze hides few amongst the browns and handful of blues.
Thallyath twisted in the air, spinning around so she was above the group, looking down at them for a moment as they processed where she’d gone. She honestly had no preferences; none of them had made themselves appear to her as better than any other. Her instincts said only a bronze would be good enough – that only a bronze would produce a clutch worthy of brewing in her belly. But she didn’t care for any one of them over the other, and her options were – by now – quite slim. With another shriek, this one of pure wonton lust, Thallyath shot upwards a little more, giving the male dragons time to collect under her, and then she folded her wings and plummeted into their midst.
The bronzes were large – many of them quite a bit larger than herself – and while Thallyath was gold, she was small, perhaps smaller than even the pre-plague golds had been. Certainly, she was far smaller than any of her golden siblings – and markedly smaller than any of the bronzes, and a fair chunk of the browns. Admittedly, and much to her chagrin, Thallyath was even smaller than the occasional blue. So, really, if one wanted to be completely logical – and Thallayth, when she wasn’t furious with lust, was a very logical creature – it was really only natural that the blues and browns would be the ones who truly ended up vying against one another for the chance to capture her as she shot through the springtime sky.
The bronzes were the first of her chases to realise they were at a disadvantage, and act rashly as a response – Thallyath shrieked and spat like a cornered feline as she twisted and zipped away from their snatching claws, most of them easily evaded though a few came closer than she cared to admit. It really wasn’t long after that that they began to fall away, much similar to when they chased a green. Too quick, too easy to manoeuvre between their larger and slower moving forms. Thallyath shrieked at them, taunting and insulting in her wordless cries. Useless. Pathetic. Unworthy!
Despite her desire to be the best and most magnificent gold to blaze through the sky, Thallyath was a maiden, but more, while she was fully grown and matured, she and Casa were prone to laziness and disinclined to fly overmuch; she simply didn’t have the physical fitness that other dragons might have, be them gold, green or otherwise. So, while her flight lasted much longer than the average green, Thallyath found herself waning as dinnertime approached, and a glance back showed her a thinned group, though it was still spectacularly colourful; the shimmering bronze hides few amongst the browns and handful of blues.
Thallyath twisted in the air, spinning around so she was above the group, looking down at them for a moment as they processed where she’d gone. She honestly had no preferences; none of them had made themselves appear to her as better than any other. Her instincts said only a bronze would be good enough – that only a bronze would produce a clutch worthy of brewing in her belly. But she didn’t care for any one of them over the other, and her options were – by now – quite slim. With another shriek, this one of pure wonton lust, Thallyath shot upwards a little more, giving the male dragons time to collect under her, and then she folded her wings and plummeted into their midst.