20.May.14, 12:28 PM
Rhaedalyn’s refraining was appreciated, if only because R’nya could feel the tiny bluerider’s eyes boring into him and he was not especially interested in pressing the man’s buttons. He did not know everything, but he knew enough to know that Z’ia ran in S’kef’s circle when the mood struck him, and the shirt he was wearing clearly had J’ver’s mark upon it. He wondered idly if he should have worn the shirt Rhaedalyn had made for him; it was currently sitting on the bottom of his clothes chest, out of sight and out of mind. At least Rhaedalyn would have sense enough not to wear that crap J’ver called clothing, and if nothing else, the girl might make Z’ia something more fitting to be seen in public in.
R’nya allowed the excitable goldrider to direct him to his seat before bouncing off to fetch another glass of wine. The fourth seat did not go unnoticed, and the sly smirk that flittered over Z’ia’s lips when Rhaedalyn’s back was to him was not reassuring. Neither was the way his features fell into placid and polite happiness without any effort as Rhaedalyn re-joined them and handed him the wineglass. That small act alone set off all of R’nya’s warning bells, and the way Z’ia regally ignored him without actually ignoring him as he took Rhaedalyn’s hand and laced their fingers told R’nya that was exactly what Z’ia had wanted to do. The bronzerider lifted the wineglass to his lips to hide the pursing of them, and barely took a sip before he was lowering it once more, a clear frown working over his features.
Sir! The bronze’s voice broke through and into the front of his thoughts with unusual intensity, his single word clipped and filled with warning. The bronze dragon had begun the slow meandering of his way over while R’nya walked, and had arrived just behind Ghaeth and K’tir, eyes swirling a sudden red, his lips drawing back to hiss like a snake at the brown dragon, wings half extended in a threatening display.
Despite the sudden storm of emotions under the surface, R’nya did no more than turn his head slowly at the knock, his shoulders stiffening just barely as he heard K’tir’s voice. A glance at Z’ia showed an innocently surprised expression that R’nya didn’t believe for a moment, and he placed his wineglass on the table, standing up slowly as Rhaedalyn danced happily off to get more wine. R’nya stared down his nose as K’tir whispered, and his control over his emotions exploded, anger flaring over his face and burning in his eyes. He was visibly refraining from punching the man as he turned his attention to Rhaedalyn, not bothering to mask his feeling on the whole ordeal.
“You’ve been played,” he spat at Rhaedalyn, fingers clenching into fists, his anger clipping his words. It was that, or the girl was stupid, and even as angry as he was R’nya was not willing to believe Rhaedalyn was wilfully stupid. Ignorant, naïve certainly - but not stupid. He did not want to believe she would set him up for her own amusement, either, though it was quite clear (to him at least) that both the blue and brownrider were there for the entertainment. Well, R’nya was not playing that game. His lips twisted from a nasty sneer into a pursed line as Xyreith’s heavy, throaty growl of warning echoed through the area.
“Excuse me.” The words were sneered, and R’nya bowed slightly to Rhaedalyn as he spun on his heel – oh how he wanted to punch that smug bastard brownrider – and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind himself in a very un-R’nya-like display of his emotions. The bronzerider stalked through the three large dragons to grab Xyreith by the side of his nostril and drag him away from Ghaeth, whom he had slowly been working at backing into the side of the building. He hated the rider, but he was not about to punish the dragon; Ghaeth was punished enough being bonded to that bastard.
R’nya allowed the excitable goldrider to direct him to his seat before bouncing off to fetch another glass of wine. The fourth seat did not go unnoticed, and the sly smirk that flittered over Z’ia’s lips when Rhaedalyn’s back was to him was not reassuring. Neither was the way his features fell into placid and polite happiness without any effort as Rhaedalyn re-joined them and handed him the wineglass. That small act alone set off all of R’nya’s warning bells, and the way Z’ia regally ignored him without actually ignoring him as he took Rhaedalyn’s hand and laced their fingers told R’nya that was exactly what Z’ia had wanted to do. The bronzerider lifted the wineglass to his lips to hide the pursing of them, and barely took a sip before he was lowering it once more, a clear frown working over his features.
Despite the sudden storm of emotions under the surface, R’nya did no more than turn his head slowly at the knock, his shoulders stiffening just barely as he heard K’tir’s voice. A glance at Z’ia showed an innocently surprised expression that R’nya didn’t believe for a moment, and he placed his wineglass on the table, standing up slowly as Rhaedalyn danced happily off to get more wine. R’nya stared down his nose as K’tir whispered, and his control over his emotions exploded, anger flaring over his face and burning in his eyes. He was visibly refraining from punching the man as he turned his attention to Rhaedalyn, not bothering to mask his feeling on the whole ordeal.
“You’ve been played,” he spat at Rhaedalyn, fingers clenching into fists, his anger clipping his words. It was that, or the girl was stupid, and even as angry as he was R’nya was not willing to believe Rhaedalyn was wilfully stupid. Ignorant, naïve certainly - but not stupid. He did not want to believe she would set him up for her own amusement, either, though it was quite clear (to him at least) that both the blue and brownrider were there for the entertainment. Well, R’nya was not playing that game. His lips twisted from a nasty sneer into a pursed line as Xyreith’s heavy, throaty growl of warning echoed through the area.
“Excuse me.” The words were sneered, and R’nya bowed slightly to Rhaedalyn as he spun on his heel – oh how he wanted to punch that smug bastard brownrider – and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind himself in a very un-R’nya-like display of his emotions. The bronzerider stalked through the three large dragons to grab Xyreith by the side of his nostril and drag him away from Ghaeth, whom he had slowly been working at backing into the side of the building. He hated the rider, but he was not about to punish the dragon; Ghaeth was punished enough being bonded to that bastard.