14.Apr.14, 03:56 PM
Z’ia snorted out a soft laugh, but made no actual comment. He knew well that he was of no interest to J’ver, notably since he’d gleaned some idea of what type of a man J’ver was; Z’ia was well aware that he wasn’t at all to the slimy greenrider’s particular taste, and it was a fact he was quite happy about. Indeed, the only use Z’ia himself had for J’ver was his green’s flight, in those times when Aveleth managed to win, either by outwitting the brown or by Tyrrisath not entering for whatever reason happened to be the cause. Aveleth had not won for an unfortunate period of time. Quite unfair, considering how regularly the brown was fucking golds.
“My dear J’ver,” Z’ia’s voice was eternally amused, “how could anyone possibly make me any sweeter?” Green eyes twinkled with amusement and the little rider fluttered his lashes playfully; behind the playful banter, Z’ia was more than a little disgusted by the implications. As if one such as Rhaedalyn could possibly affect his personality with any impact. If Aveleth had not managed to turn his insides as sweet as his mask, nothing would! A thought that was carefully kept from the delicate dragon.
As the topic was changed back to the clothing, Z’ia’s gaze shifted to once more look at it, folded lightly over his lap. The prospect of even more was far from reassuring, but he smiled charmingly none-the-less, and tossed J’ver a wink. “I can’t wait!” Bouncing up in a smooth motion, Z’ia landed lightly on the ground and nodded. “I think I will leave Aveleth here, until Tyrrisath chases him off. I, on the other hand, have a date to attend to, so I will see you later.” Vague amusement tinged Z’ia’s tones and features, and he flashed a quick smirk before sauntering out of J’ver’s tent with a lazy and mocking salute.
“My dear J’ver,” Z’ia’s voice was eternally amused, “how could anyone possibly make me any sweeter?” Green eyes twinkled with amusement and the little rider fluttered his lashes playfully; behind the playful banter, Z’ia was more than a little disgusted by the implications. As if one such as Rhaedalyn could possibly affect his personality with any impact. If Aveleth had not managed to turn his insides as sweet as his mask, nothing would! A thought that was carefully kept from the delicate dragon.
As the topic was changed back to the clothing, Z’ia’s gaze shifted to once more look at it, folded lightly over his lap. The prospect of even more was far from reassuring, but he smiled charmingly none-the-less, and tossed J’ver a wink. “I can’t wait!” Bouncing up in a smooth motion, Z’ia landed lightly on the ground and nodded. “I think I will leave Aveleth here, until Tyrrisath chases him off. I, on the other hand, have a date to attend to, so I will see you later.” Vague amusement tinged Z’ia’s tones and features, and he flashed a quick smirk before sauntering out of J’ver’s tent with a lazy and mocking salute.
Unless stated otherwise, Aveleth never speaks to anyone but Z'ia