An Autumn Agenda [OPEN]

C'vir, determined not to appear as amused as Z'ia's response to Besulth had made him, shook his curls back into place before giving the bluerider a slanted smile and the brown a permissive pat. Go on, then. You've already started -- why stop now? Crooning approvingly, the dragon stretched his muzzle to  meet Z'ia's outstretched hand. Good looking and well-mannered, the brown murmured coyly into the minds of both his rider and their new companion. Pleased with the attention, he withdrew himself from Z'ia's touch enough to aim one whirling eye rather pointedly at his own rider. Quite a catch, I'd say.

C'vir felt himself redden slightly, fingertips unconsciously curling in  towards loose fists at his side. "He's a talker. And a whore."

A rolling snort was the closest thing the Besulth could manage to a chuckle. Well one of us has to be a little slutty, and it certainly hasn't been you, as of late, the dragon playfully -- and privately -- commented. Give it a rest, or I'll find a way to get you into that lake, the rider hastily rejoined.

After that particular excange, the brownrider was happy for the momentary respite from conversation as Z'ia set to work removing Aveleth's straps; he needed the pause to bring himself back into balance. His dragon's quips disturbed him because they were true. Normally he made quite a show of his ability to get women into bed (a talent more related to his looks than his sweet talking skills), but for the past few months he'd had neither the energy nor the interest necessary for such pursuits.
I wonder why that could be, the brown inserted teasingly.
Can you not give me a moment of peace without interjecting? Not one? Ever?
You'll thank me for being so irritating eventually.

C'vir, doubtful he would ever see such a day, turned to watch Aveleth make his joyful plunge into the lake waters. He grinned at the blue, momentarily wishing he could trade Besulth in for the afternoon. The urge passed, as it always did, when he felt the brown's head nudge his shoulder as the dragon also turned to watch Aveleth. The rider reached back blindly, seeking the brown's head, and swiveled his shoulders back toward Z'ia.  "Besulth hates water.  He humored me today because he knew he'd get an oiling out of it." At the mention of D'hys, C'vir paused. Given his tendency to keep to himself, the brownrider was only very vaguely informed about the various Katila coteries and pairings. "Is D'hys your....?" He hesitated, trying not to allow his uncertainty to show. "Uh, werymate? Good friend? Sorry -- I'm afraid I don't keep up much with who means what to whom. Perhaps I should start paying attention so I don't have to ask."
You're not nearly as impertinent as you think you are. You are, however, making things more awkward than they need to be, so relax.
Is that supposed to be encouraging?