Logs:Firsts
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| RL Date: 5 April, 2013 |
| Who: N'ky, Cailluneth, K'zin, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: N'ky and K'zin talk while their lifemates are trying (and by golly, succeeding!) to hunt. It's awkward. Then they kiss. And it's awkward. But is there something there? |
| Where: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 6, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air. |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Barnabas/Mentions |
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| Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen. Warm sunshine and cloudless skies make for a beautiful day and pleasantly warm evening. A breeze tempers the heat with no humidity lingering in the air.
Beautiful morning, indeed! K'zin and Rasavyth approach the pens, for once the dragon trailing behind the weyrling, instead of beside. This is a familiar look to any who've happened to see K'zin leading his lifemate off to get their daily exercises in. Physical endeavors are not Rasavyth's favorite, and it's a chore to get him to come along. K'zin's expression is frustrated, and though no words voiced, it's an easy guess that there's an ongoing discourse between the pair. Cailluneth throws her head up and out of N'ky's grasp, unfurling her wings to their fullest as she turns her nose skywards and lets out a primal-like sound; her approximation of a howl. "Cailluneth," N'ky grates, reaching out to touch her chest, carefully avoiding those bruised patches. A snarl is sent from the green to the approaching bronze - not unpleasant, but a rasping, distracted sort of greeting that matches the frantic whirl of her thoughts. That makes N'ky turn his attention from her to look over at the approaching pair... and that lapse in attention is exactly what Cailluneth needs to bound down towards the pens, clearing the fence in an awkward half-climb, half leap that has her falling heavily to her feet on the other side. N'ky runs after her, stopping by throwing himself against the fence, checking, no doubt, that his lifemate is still ok. She is, of course, and what she lacks in grace she more than makes up for in ferocity as she crouches low, a growl reverberating from her throat as she watches the herdbeasts work themselves into a frenzy. The bronze is not without his own bruises from the daily attempts to catch his own meal, but the bronze hide doesn't show them quite so readily as the green, the bruising simply looking like shadows on his oxidized cinnabar hide. Rasavyth's head lifts at the greeting from Cailluneth, and a soft croon is given in polite response. There's some chuffing that follows, the bronze thoroughly appreciating her cleverness in escaping the attention of her lifemate. With the resigned march of a sentenced man, the dragon follows after his green sister. K'zin's eyes took in Cailluneth at her greeting, and her lifemate, but swiftly hopped over his shoulder to his own lifemate. Once Ras is heading off though, K'zin is left with about ten paces between himself and N'ky. K'zin has been keeping his distance for a pair of sevens now, ever since the night in the bathes, reduced to awkward silence after pleasantries whenever their paths do cross. "Nick." He greets with a nod; then there's that awkward look as he moves not closer, but toward the fence line. Quiet amusement laces the edges of the patterns weaving in Rasavyth's mind, reflected, for Cailluneth's benefit, in pastels of peach and lavender. The patterns are complex, and their meaning is not communicated. « Well played, Cailluneth. » His compliment, at least, is warm and friendly. (Rasavyth to Cailluneth) "K'zin." N'ky's distracted but not without manners; his attention is on Cailluneth and he chews anxiously on his lip as she slinks towards the herdbeasts, where they've been terrified off to the far end of the enclosure. She prowls low, wings tucked in tightly, neck stretched out and tail straight behind her in a movement that, while fluid, would look a whole lot more graceful if she wasn't quite so pudgy. The herdbeasts mill in a tight-knit group, frantic in their lowing and snorting as they watch the approaching dragon with rolling eyes - and then they break, with no choice but to thunder towards her in an effort to escape to the other end. It's the instant Cailluneth was waiting for; they blur past her in a galloping dustcloud, and she leaps, latching onto the haunches of one beast to use her weight to bring it down. They fall heavily, dragonet rolling over herdbeast, and N'ky jumps up onto the lower rung of the fence as if to run to his lifemate's side but then she's up, on her feet before the injured cow, pinning it to the ground as she latches on to its neck with firm jaws to bleed the life from its flailing body. That's the point at which N'ky drops back down from the fence, turning his back to K'zin as he gags and struggles to hold down his morning klah. There's no pastel in Cailluneth's colours today; nothing softer than the gold of elation that lines the crimson huntress instinct. Nothing cool, nothing calm, no silver moonlight nor cool white; deep crimson, the frantic thudding of a heartbeat, the sensation of blood welling and coursing down her throat as a glorious tribute to the sacrifice of the herdbeast, a fitting prize for her hunting skill. Warm and friendly is there, somewhere, hidden beneath the guttural growl and the primal desire to kill, but it is far beneath the bloody surface of her present mindstate. (Cailluneth to Rasavyth) Being behind a huntress has its advantages. She's done the bulk of the work for him in corralling the prey and making them break. The bronze is physically more inept than many of the others, but he's not stupid. Perhaps that's why his pace quickened once he saw her enter, and he tracked her, at a moderate distance. The herd breaking happens in a V - some to one side of the green and others to the other side, his decision is swift, leaning to the thicker side and a lunge earns him an inexact swipe at a passing beast who is raked down the haunch and left limping. It's a swift overtake for the bronze between the limp and his outsizing of the bovine. The take-down is messy. It's clear that he knows what to do, but is having trouble adapting to the movements of the scared prey. Other dragons make this part look soooo easy. Eventually the scared, injured beast is wrestled to the ground and hunkered over. The killing bit is, at least, clean. Victory, thanks to Cailluneth. A pleased rumble leaves his chest as his teeth start tearing into the flesh, one forelimb used to hold the carcass down as he begins to rend it. K'zin is the one with the stronger reaction, letting out a whoop. "Did you see that?" Can you blame the man for being proud of the first kill? But of course, N'ky's there doubled over, and while things may be awkward, it doesn't erase any of his friendship for the green weyrling. "Nick, are you okay?" He steps off the fence, giving one glance to the bronze to ensure he's not getting into any trouble, before he arrives by N'ky's side, boots careful to keep a distance in case he does lose his klah, but a comforting hand is touched to the former ferrier's shoulder. To Cailluneth, Rasavyth's mind is receptive and takes her hunting mind and reflects it back, though with a distinct lack of ferocity. He toys with trying to mimic it better, but gives up after a short time. He's distracted now and not concerned with continuing the contact. Cailluneth watches Rasavyth and his take-down with her jaws locked firmly around the neck of her kill. She hunkers low and possessively over the beast, using her weight to inhibit its flailing. A thin trickle of blood ooze from her maw as she suckles on the lifeblood that pumps from her prey's severed jugular, dropping her hold only once the fallen herdbeast kicks its last. Then she flicks her tongue out to taste the crimson staining her muzzle, before dropping her head down to tear into its flank with a growl of pleasure. N'ky flinches a little at the hand on his shoulder, but the look he gives K'zin says it's out of embarrassment rather than, well, anything else. He's flushed rosy red from his cheeks to his ears, and he groans as he straightens up, rubbing at the beads of sweat on his pale brow. His nod to say he is ok contradicts the way he looks, but he doesn't say anything for the moment - his lips are pressed tight together as if he might, just might, have to suddenly turn aside to give in to being sick. To Cailluneth, Rasavyth's mind is receptive and takes her hunting mind and reflects it back, though with a distinct lack of ferocity. He toys with trying to mimic it better. His mind ripples to mirror her color scheme, the sensations of crimson, of heartbeats, blood. Some part of him is all too good at making the heartbeats real, the blood real. All the while though, there is a distinct partition in his mind that is for once, permitted to be seen, perhaps because he's distracted, rending the beast apart. The partition is separating the clean, transparent mechaniations of his ooze from the dirty business of hunting and blood. He doesn't like to get his hands, even his mental hands dirty. « Couldn't you have them cleaned just before I hunt them? They've so much dirt. » The bronze's distaste is clear. (Rasavyth to K'zin) Nope. You're a dragon. Act like one. K'zin's response is unwavering. This is how dragons eat. He's a dragon, so he'll eat this way. Maybe when he's large enough that a bovine is just one bite, things will be different. (K'zin to Rasavyth) Once the beast Rasavyth has killed is done it's twitching, it's just down to the pulling apart and eating. From there on, his actions become fairly like the average feeding dragon, although he does seem to be pulling the tenderest bits first. K'zin's glance only slides to him once more to make a 'Man up!' face at his mate, though no words are spoken. The bronze weyrling lingers with his hand on N'ky's shoulder, despite the nod to indicate he's not about to keel over. "Think about sweet rolls." He offers as a suggestion, "Or if you'd rather, think about boobs. Anything that gets your mind distracted from what she's sharing. Boobs always work for me." There's humor in his casual delivery. N'ky watches Cailluneth eat, resting his hands back on the uppermost rung of the fence and breathing out long and hard. It's not the physical act of her tearing into the animal's flesh that bothers him, and his friend hits the nail right on the head with what he says. K'zin's words get a half-smile to show he's listening, but still trying to clear his mind. "I threw up in front of Hraedhyth," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his hand over his mouth. "And she sent Azaylia to me." And he looks mortified. The green weyrling shifts his weight, leaning more heavily against the fence and shaking his head. "I can't think about boobs." Can't think about--? K'zin stares in earnest concern now as his best bud. Something must truly be amiss if he can't think about boobs! Though a thought occurs to him: "Can't think about boobs? Why? Finding Bones' attributes more up your ally?" The question is laden with good humor and teasing given the number of times they've gone over the fact that N'ky likes girls. K'zin's large hand pats N'ky's shoulder in a comradely manner. "I'm sure worse has been done in front of Hraedhyth." His tone is reassuring, but his lips have pressed into a straight line at the mention. "And Azaylia." He shrugs his shoulders. "You're not the first weyrling to, and won't be the last, I'm sure." He, himself, doesn't seem to be suffering any of the same queasy issues. To Rasavyth, Cailluneth only reaches out to feel Rasavyth's mind to share her pride and possession of her kill with him - she's too focused on what she's doing to notice the separation in his thinking. Those hunting colours remain, aswirl with bloody red and the black of hunger being sated. "C-can't you just... j-just drop it about Bones, K'zin?" K'zin, again. Not Waki. N'ky's frustration shows in his stutter, even if his expression remains relatively unchanged - he's still frowning thoughtfully at Cailluneth (who's now tugging on her herdbeast carcass's leg in an attempt to flip it over... something far more easily done when mum's there to help), though his coltish frame is tensed. Despite the attempt at humour, a nerve's been touched upon there. He breathes out sharply, shaking his head and raking his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, fine." K'zin's quick to agree, shrugging his shoulders. "I was just trying to--" What? Lighten the mood? Make the topic that estranged them less taboo with humor? Probably. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything." With that, he's turning to walk some paces away to claim his own piece of fence, far enough away that conversation wouldn't be impossible, but it wouldn't be necessary either. When he arrives where he's going, he's pulling himself onto the lowest rung of the fence, arms coming to rest at the top, looking casually awkward, expression discontent. To Cailluneth, Rasavyth doesn't need Cailluneth's attention in order to observe and learn. That's the creepy part of his process. His mind lingers at the edge of what she's doing, observing everything she's not specifically not sharing that passes on the "open and available" wave-length of her thoughts. His, too, is a split focus, though where he once had much trouble splitting, he's beginning to get a real feel for multi-tasking. And up and over the herdbeast goes after much effort from Cailluneth. She rips into the flesh at its hind and forequarters, carefully skirting the bulge of its belly. N'ky looks at K'zin as he moves off, but says nothing - he sinks into his own little bubble of malcontent, turning back to frown thoughtfully at Cailluneth and her kill. He doesn't say anything more until she's done, at which point he has to walk past K'zin in order to get to the gate that will let her out, as the chubby dragonet isn't capable of hopping back over the top with her food-bloated belly. "I'll do it," he says softly as he passes the bronzerider. Then he's unlatching the gate and swinging it open, while Cailluneth, with her bloody muzzle and blood-spattered chest and paws, trots proudly out. To Rasavyth, Cailluneth's mental landscape shifts and changes as her belly fills. From the edges in, soothing lavender unfurls into a peaceful blanket, followed slowly by the typical moonshine of her mind. They replace the ferocity that was there earlier, during the hunt returning her to her calm, softly-swirling self. With her hunting self tucked away she's more aware of Rasavyth's presence; he's sent a shimmering bubble of grey smoke, asking him what he's doing, how she can help. Well, if that isn't just confusing. "You'll do what? Think about boobs?" The bronze weyrling looks to his green-paired friend, brow furrowed, face once more perplexed. With how very often K'zin is finding himself confused lately, it's a wonder that his face doesn't freeze that way. Rasavyth is not far behind Cai, following the huntress again, so K'zin's stroll brings him over to the gate to take over the holding, or at least add his hands to the contraption, in case N'ky doesn't feel like holding the door for the bronze as well. « I am learning. » Comes the tenor purr, his mind mirroring the shifts in her own, though behind it there is a sense that his satiation is not quite complete. He's still a touch peckish; one beast was not enough. And yet he follows her towards the gate. « Your mind is intriguing. » His compliment is all charmy ooze, but seems genuine. (Rasavyth to Cailluneth) That Rasavyth is leaving too seems to surprise N'ky, but he does hold the gate along with K'zin. "H-he's full?" Once the bronze is through, he pushes on the gate to close it, then calls Cailluneth to his side. He gives a jerk of his head to indicate that the bronze pair are welcome to join him as they head towards the lake, no doubt to wash the gore off Cailluneth. She's by no means a delicate eater. As for the answer to the other questions? N'ky avoids them. To Rasavyth, Cailluneth turns hunger to darkness, creeping tendrils of black that twist and curl around her moonscape. She extends them towards Rasavyth, sharing with him the heat of blood and freshly-felled flesh, the satisfaction of feeding and the joy of hunting and killing. A swirl of grey asks why he doesn't stay to eat, if he is not full; the rising lust of her own thoughts suggest she would happily kill again, but Hraedhyth's orders are for her to kill only what she can eat. "Nah. He doesn't think he can catch another one without Cai's assistance. I figured since it's his first time catching anything, I'd let him have the win and bring him back later to try again." K'zin responds to N'ky with a wry grin. There's a pause and then K'zin is reaching a hand to touch N'ky's shoulder lightly again, the other still on the gate. "I'm sorry I joked. It's not funny. I was just-- I was trying to lighten things up. Like I always do." Or tries. "I don't like things being weird between us. Just-- forget I brought anything up and we'll just go back to being two dudes being good friends?" To Cailluneth, Rasavyth doesn't usually communicate in distinct images, but he's also not usually the odd man out at being exceptionally poor at a task. The series of images is a medley for Cailluneth of his various hunting efforts. Lots of lunges, a tiresome number, and lots of misses, an equal number. The images are colored with the emotions of frustration and hunger. It reveals that this beast, today, was indeed his first kill. « I do not expect I shall have that same luck on my own. » Luck, not skill, in his case, in this matter. "He'd rather go hungry than try?" N'ky can't quite understand it, but then his lifemate is so very different to Rasavyth. He looks at Cailluneth, stroking his fingers over her non-bloody headknobs, and frowning. "If you s-said before, she might've helped. She's too... um... full now." And fat. The curve of her belly is huge, making the idea of her running after herdbeasts now a ludicrous one. Then he's being touched, and N'ky looks at the hand with his teeth dug deep into his bottom lip. "Wh-when I said 'I'll do it'," he says slowly, after a thoughtful pause, "I m-meant... us." Only... he doesn't exactly seem to be layering on the flirting that should perhaps come with such a statement. There's more awkwardness and uncertainty than fuzzy feelings. His first kill? Cailluneth takes this information, wrapping it in a thoughtful glow and mulling it over. Yellow surprise puffs up - how can he have missed his kills, when he's got size to his advantage? She shares an image of her first kill; claws ripping through soft haunches, a limping herdbeast, tackling it to the ground and stealing its lifeforce. Blood wells up with terrible force to accompany the image, an encouragement for him to kill. (Cailluneth to Rasavyth) K'zin's brows fold, "He's hungry, but not starving. It's like-- he's okay, but not full. He'd like to eat more but-- he gets real frustrated." The bronze weyrling gives a shrug of his shoulders as to Cai helping. "It's not for me to say. And really, he's been conning the others into killing for him the last few days. I haven't stopped it because-- well, I don't want to feed him." Can you blame the weyrling after months of that incessant chore? "But he's got to learn to do it on his own. He had a couple near misses last time we were here. But Cai's definitely helped him out." Beat. "It'll make him more willing to try next time, I hope." His hand falls away then, and brown eyes seek N'ky's. His expression is not encouraging. He looks both confused and maybe a little distressed, "Nick--" He starts but doesn't seem to know where to go from there. "I don't know, Nick. You seemed-- really certain. I don't want to mess up our friendship. I--" Then something seems to dawn on him, "Did you hear about those bunch of riders that turned me down?" He seeks the motivation. "I'll sort it out. You don't have to do it. I don't want you to do something you don't feel comfortable with." His face is red by this point, eyes having begun to wander anywhere else but at his friend, or their lifemates. "I know you don't like guys and I -- shells, I don't know if I do or I don't since I've never tried, but--" He's floundering, drowning in the depth of this topic. Rasavyth's wings lifting and resettling, eyes whirling a touch faster in mild agitation. « Really, K'zin. » Rasavyth's tenor is fatigued, as though it is a grueling task to be paired with this man. « You think far too much about all of this, and don't do enough. You want to see if things would be strange? Then do something to find out. Stop stuttering like an idiot, stop hesitating, and act. » The motivation here has nothing to do with N'ky. Has nothing to do with K'zin kissing N'ky, which is certainly one read on the suggestion made by the bronze, but a greater frustration at his lifemate's near constant confusion. Rasavyth is decisive. Why isn't K'zin? (Rasavyth to K'zin) And now the tables have turned, with N'ky getting turned down. He blushes furiously, dropping his gaze to Cailluneth and curling his fingers more tightly around her headknobs. It's a security twitch he's developed since Impressing her, just like knotting his fingers in his curls. "I h-hadn't," is his stammered reply to having heard about his friend being turned down. Then, with his brows furrowed deeply over his dark eyes, he looks up to K'zin with an expression that's both confused and hurt. "Do you r-really think our f-friendship can get any more m-messed up than it is now?" He gestures frustratedly, then shakes his head and looks out over the pens. "I b-broke it by s-saying no, a-and now...n-now I'm br-breaking it more by s-saying yes - you tell me what I'm meant to do, K'zin, bec-cause I don't know." Cailluneth croons reassuringly, rubbing her bloody muzzle against her ranting weyrling's side. "You didn't break it," K'zin is quick to say, taking a step towards N'ky to put a reassuring hand on the other's wrist (the one of the hand not occupied by knob rubbing). He squeezes gently. "I just felt weird after asking and you thinking that-- well, that it was wrong and awful, and I didn't know what to say or how to behave, or--" He shakes his head. He's teetering on the edge of action. "I'm sure our friendship could end up more messed up than this, if we did something that you-- thought was wrong--" His eyes have locked on N'ky's face now though, biting his own lower lip hard. "Oh, shell it. If this is too weird, we'll know and it'll all be over with." With that, the shorter man is stepping forward to reach both hands up to lightly grasp N'ky's face and press a brief kiss to the green weyrling's, before stepping right, back to stare uncertainly at him, obviously trying to gather his own confusing thoughts. While he doesn't pull away from the kiss, N'ky's not overly enthusiastic about it, either. He stands stiffly, allowing it to run its course, and then when K'zin steps back he bites down on his lip, fingers curling into a ball, then unfurling and repeating the motion. From the way he just stands there, flexing his fingers awkwardly, there's not really much to tell about how it made him feel, other than confused. Well, neither of them are losing their breakfasts. That's encouraging. K'zin swallows, gaze remaining on N'ky's face. "Was that weird? That was weird." He answers for himself. Beat. "But weird okay? Or weird not okay?" He takes a deep breath. "I trust you, Nick. Like I don't trust anyone else," The exception for his dragon doesn't have to be said, it's universally understood for riders. "You're not going to laugh at me, even if I'm awful at -- everything. You're not going to hurt me. And I would never hurt you. I--" He bites his lower lip, "Bones is great," His relationship with the gardener is distinctly different than N'ky's, "And I wouldn't blame you at all for going with him." 'Going with' has a particular meaning here this time. "It would probably be awkward as a wherry and a firelizard trying to make eggs with me. But-- I trust you." It seems to come back to that as the important thing. He takes a deep breath. "We could... try that again and see?" Wasn't that his theory with the first kiss though? The first didn't seem to clarify things much. "I am going with Bones." And cue a whole new layer of N'ky-awkwardness. "Later. I-if he still..." Embarrassment has the teen trailing off to nothingness, not wanting to elaborate on an arrangement that's such a touchy subject for him. "I'm n-not planning anything, K'zin. I c-can't just... j-just up and k-kiss someone without -- without feeling it." Flusteredness rises, and he looks out over the lake after raking fingers through his hair again. "And there's n-no way I could do that, n-not without... it needs to be here." He raps his fist off his chest, above his heart. "N-now isn't good. Now is not good. I c-can't th-think about you or boobs or anyone like that right now - I j-just can't, b-but it doesn't mean I won't, not... n-not in a few months' time or whenever i-it hits me." K'zin takes a pair of steps back away from N'ky - giving him space. There's silence from the bronze weyrling as he sorts through the green weyrling's words and whatever is swirling in his own head. "Okay." He finally says. "I understand." Matter settled. Did he hear the part it not necessarily meaning that he won't? Maybe not. Ras moves around where Cai and her rider stand to come behind K'zin, sharp-wedge of his head drawing down to gently nose K'zin in the side. The man turns to face the dragon, both hands clasping onto the bronze's jaw, thumbs brushing lightly over dragonhide, back and forth and back and forth. "Don't worry about it, Nick. We won't talk about it again." The assurance is quiet, neither angry not frustrated, but numb. To K'zin, Rasavyth's thoughts reach soothingly to K'zin's flustered mind. « You took action. That is good, my K'zin. » Is it? K'zin is less certain by droves. I might've just lost my best friend because I acted. The man's sigh is internal. You're not supposed to interfere with my friendship with N'ky.. (K'zin to Rasavyth) « I'm not. » At least Rasavyth doesn't see it as interference. « I am only encouraging you to be more sure of yourself. » Beat. « You are more sure, are you not? Of who you are? And who you are not? » (Rasavyth to K'zin) There's a moment that seems to stretch for forever, though it's half a blink at most, before K'zin's simple thought slips through. Yes. Simple, and yet so critical. (K'zin to Rasavyth) To Rasavyth, Cailluneth speaks, words of silver filigree entwined around a fluttering golden heartbeat. « My heart. » Golden-pink gleams, then merges with coppery cinnabar gold, one coiling around the other to become a tight-woven thread. « Your heart. » A sense of coming together, of waiting - and of the inability for her heart to express himself properly. « He asks that you share with yours. » N'ky takes his time in coming up with his words, because the few failed attempts he makes fall stutteringly flat. "No," he eventually says, a syllable that he shouldn't have tripped over as much as he did. "Wh-when I'm r-ready. I'm n-not ready for you t-to kiss me now." He bites on his lip, closing his eyes as he sucks in a deep breath. "I-I need to go w-wash Cailluneth." « Knowing oneself is one of the most important things, my K'zin. Without understanding oneself, it is impossible to understand the world. » Rasavyth's certainty is overwhelming, bolstering. The dragon knows who he is. Then softly, « Cailluneth's N'ky asks that you know these things. » With K'zin there is no need to hide how exactly he's able to replicate the message of the other; it's precise. He is still getting to know Cailluneth's facets, but this is familiar and unchallenging to clone. (Rasavyth to K'zin) The thoughts shared through dragon mind were meant to clarify, he knows, but K'zin, poor K'zin, looks more confused than ever. He doesn't try to stall N'ky's departure. There are a million questions he wants to ask now, but Rasavyth's ability to pick timing is rubbing off on him, so he says nothing, judging now not to be the moment. His confused gaze follows N'ky, hands still stroking along his dragon's bloody jaw. Certainly, they will not be far behind to bathe. « Do... do you wish me to tell them? » Rasavyth's tenor is tender now, quiet. It's not a Rasavyth-knows-best moment. (Rasavyth to K'zin) As K'zin watches the other pair go, his heart aches. No. (K'zin to Rasavyth) |
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Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 06 Apr 2013 20:56:27 GMT.
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*sighs* Weyrlings~
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