30.Apr.13, 05:14 PM
C'vir listened idly as he worked his way around Besulth's body, pausing occasionally to ask the large brown to adjust positions when he needed access to a hard-to-reach area. He nodded in a vaguely approving manner at the infrequency of Aveleth's participation in flights -- a further merit, in his mind, of the blue's. Though he often wished Besulth showed a bit less zeal when it came to lusty greens, he could forgive the brown's enthusiasm for the chase if the dragon would ever show a bit of discernment. Instead, he picked at random, rarely pursuing the same potential mate twice.
What's the need? To C'vir's continued chagrin, the brown was seldom without a query or comment related to his rider's thoughts. You're not involved with anyone. I'll fly who I like while I can.
Which would be fine if I enjoyed waking up in the beds of strangers.
Oh you don't? The brown's feigned surprise carried a bit of bite. You certainly enjoy making people think that you do, especially when it's the bed of a woman you happen to wake up in.
The rider finished distributing the oil remaining on his hands, rubbing it roughly into a large swath of the brown's hide. "That's all you get today, ingrate," he muttered, giving the dragon's side a final pat. "You've exhausted my patience." He abandoned the oil to lean lightly against Besulth, snorting softly with amusement at Z'ia's mention of luck. "I'm not sure it was luck that stuck me with this one," he remarked, jerking his head up and back towards the brown, who rumbled fondly in response.Not luck, though it's certainly a sign of your own good fortune. You'd be helpless without me.
C'vir ignored the commentary with a bemused shake of his head, watching one of the more agreeable of Z'ia's green firelizards settle onto the bluerider's wrist. See? It's sweet. This time, it was Besulth that declined to respond, remaining pointedly silent. The dragon's feelings about firelizards were vehement and well-known; there was no changing his mind about them.
"Sadly, no," C'vir replied, chancing a peek at petulant Plague. He had a fondness for companion animals that couldn't talk back, a fondness that Besulth, unfortunately, did not share. With a thumb, he motioned over his shoulder at the brown. "It's forbidden." Though his voice was grave, the rolling eyes that accompanied the statement were not. "If I'm anyone's bitch, I'm Besulth's, which means I'm forced to submit to his anti-firelizard decree."
Which would be fine if I enjoyed waking up in the beds of strangers.
The rider finished distributing the oil remaining on his hands, rubbing it roughly into a large swath of the brown's hide. "That's all you get today, ingrate," he muttered, giving the dragon's side a final pat. "You've exhausted my patience." He abandoned the oil to lean lightly against Besulth, snorting softly with amusement at Z'ia's mention of luck. "I'm not sure it was luck that stuck me with this one," he remarked, jerking his head up and back towards the brown, who rumbled fondly in response.
C'vir ignored the commentary with a bemused shake of his head, watching one of the more agreeable of Z'ia's green firelizards settle onto the bluerider's wrist. See? It's sweet. This time, it was Besulth that declined to respond, remaining pointedly silent. The dragon's feelings about firelizards were vehement and well-known; there was no changing his mind about them.
"Sadly, no," C'vir replied, chancing a peek at petulant Plague. He had a fondness for companion animals that couldn't talk back, a fondness that Besulth, unfortunately, did not share. With a thumb, he motioned over his shoulder at the brown. "It's forbidden." Though his voice was grave, the rolling eyes that accompanied the statement were not. "If I'm anyone's bitch, I'm Besulth's, which means I'm forced to submit to his anti-firelizard decree."