Warm, fuzzy and awkward [Echlerov]

((Directly following drunken post-flight fun))

The morning had started out quite nicely. Echlerov had arranged to give her something of a private wine tasting, insisting that she would like wine if she gave it a chance. Then, around Midmorning, he'd lurched to his feet and run outside, muttering something about a Flight. Jisra had been left to taste the wine on her own and it hadn't taken long for her to become tipsy and then full out drunk after which she'd curled up on the bed and taken a nap.

After that...things had happened.

A draft of cool air tickled Jisra’s leg and she frowned slightly, still more asleep than awake. Her hand groped aimlessly, searching for the blanket. When she couldn’t find it, she instead rolled to the side and curled into the warm bulk that had been behind her.

The smell of wine, sweat and dragonflesh cocooned her like the blanket she couldn’t find and she was only vaguely aware of the entire situation being a bit off as she floated in the realm between sleep and the waking world.

The flight had gone just about how Echlerov had expected once he had realized that once again Pistoth was attempting to fly a queen, and he had returned to where he had been giving Jisra a private wine tasting, planning on finishing them up and cleaning up as well.

Things hadn't quite gone to plan.

Now, though, he was warm and mostly asleep, and when the warm body he was sharing the bed with curled into him, he wrapped his arms around her. Some point in between curling up with her, and now, they had lost the blanket, something that didn't really surprise Echlerov at all. He did have a tendency to kick blankets off if he got too hot.

He moved one of this arms away, feeling around for the blanket, but when it was nowhere to be found, he gave up. He was warm enough anyways, and he didn't want to disturb his sleeping companion.

The warmth that she’d curled into seemed to wrap around her, shifting the mattress a bit. With every sleepy fumble, Jisralna moved closer to waking until a tickle in her nose finally dragged her out of the cozy warmth of sleep. With a slightly disgruntled grumble she rubbed her nose against Echlerov’s chest, inhaling the musky scent of dragonflesh mingled with the scent of man. Even now her mind was too fuzzy with the remnants of wine and sleep to fully comprehend, though she knew that something was vastly off.

Yawning, Jisra stretched then stilled as she felt resistance along the entire length of her body. Slowly her mind began to piece together bits of information. The smell (rather distinctly that of a dragonrider), the warm lump beside her and the fact that she vaguely remembered Echlerov returning after he’d left earlier that day when Pistoth answered Krypth’s call.

Almost afraid to open her eyes and prove her suspicions correct, she shifted slightly in the circle of his arms, just enough so that she could free a hand. Hesitantly, she reached up and with light fingertips traced the side of Echlerov’s face and sucking in her lower lip, slowly opened her eyes. Her cheeks burned and her mind seemed to be bogged down by something akin to wet sand or tree sap because she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around what had happened. Surely she wouldn’t have just…She remained silent, green eyes fixed on the bluerider’s face as she pulled her hand back and tucked it against her chest with her other hand.