Logs:Once A Con
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| RL Date: 15 May, 2015 |
| Who: Jo, R'hin, Jolan |
| Involves: Nabol Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: R'hin takes Jo to a gather in Nabol. It's an unexpected family reunion for a convict rider. |
| Where: Grounds, Nabol Hold |
| When: Day 22, Month 10, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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A land of gently rolling hills and dark soil, Nabol stretches out across
the southern end of High Reaches' territory. Most of the land is devoted
to sprawling farms and orchards; even the fallow areas are overgrown
forests of apple and other fruit trees. A number of rivers and smaller
streams cut across the land, providing excellent irrigation. With the
temperate climate and abundant greenery, animals are widespread, frequent
visitors to the forests and fields. The main Hold rises abruptly up from
the land, a fortress carved into cliff faces that spring from the valley
around it.
Just before the sun rises, a slow rainstorm picks up. By mid-morning, a
sheet of dull, gray rain falls from a bleakly cloudy sky, continuing
throughout the day. Some time after sunset, well into the night, it starts
to dissipate. It's been raining off and on throughout the day, keeping most of High Reaches' residents somewhere warm and dry unless they've a need to be out somewhere. Apparently one such person is R'hin, given Leiventh's descent onto Tacuseth's ledge. The bronze is by nature taciturn, and today is no difference; a cold swirl of wind announces his presence, and there's a brief, odd, quivering sensation before he withdraws mentally. R'hin hasn't any such reticence, though, dropping to the ledge and striding into her weyr, "If you're undressed, put on some clothes. Or... wait, let me look first, then put on some clothes," he's saying as he steps inside. Leiventh's touch is felt and returned with the heat of an Igen noonday by Tacuseth, watching the bronze's arrival without any trumpeting fanfare. Perhaps he simply didn't need one since R'hin's greeting would meet a lounging Jo currently in the process of refilling her flask while her gaze lingers on her posted wall-maps. She's half-dressed in a pale tank top with her black leather pants unlaced, and she doesn't look at all like she cares for modesty considering how low those undone pants are sitting. When he arrives, he head turns lazily towards him with one foot free of a boot and the other not, brow lifting at him before she straightens up enough to greet. "I've just got in," she says, her usual amusement coming to the fore. "Where are we goin'? Do I need brass knuckles this time?" Amusement hitches even more as she brings up their last encounter before she slides herself to her feet - probably showing a bit of her crotch in the process. Maybe even on purpose. "No," R'hin immediately answers her question about brass knuckles, although, as he strides towards her, there's something of consideration as his hands move to rest on her hips, leaning into her as he murmurs, "Well... maybe," because it's Jo. His thumbs hook into the waist of her leather pants, tugging briefly, as he chuckles. "Somewhere nice, for once. A bit of drinking, some betting, maybe even some dancing...?" his brow quirks upwards, in invitation. "Or," with a grin, "We could stay in?" Watching as he approaches, "I always seem to end up in a position to fight, when I'm with ya," Jo notes on the brass knuckles, and there's an easiness there to suggest that it's a position she doesn't mind. His tug of her pants has her swaying forward, callused fingers tracing up his arms as she considers his offer. "Hmm," she says then with a nod. "Sounds nice...I suppose these won' do?" Her dark eyes flick right down towards the pants deliberately, and of course, she makes that question sound like it has nothing to do with his offer of dancing. She chuckles then at the last before spreading her hands and adding, "Go out, go in. Ya know I'm easy, darlin'. I just happen to be free for the rest of the day." "Don't know what you mean," R'hin says, easily, despite the curve of lips that follow the accusation. "You look good in anything you wear," counters the bronzerider adds, laughingly, fingers flexing against her hips before he releases her to step past, heading for her closet. He looks for something neat and dark in a shirt, almost inconspicuous, before holding his chosen bit of clothing up for inspection. "Definitely keeping the pants," he decides. "If we stay in, we won't leave, and that would be a shame. That's what normal people do." "I do," Jo is arrogant enough to agree with her looking good in anything. Still, she stays right where she is when R'hin releases her and goes to her closest - her hands falling on her hips as she watches him. He finds something simply made and deep in a dark blue that was stitched in to show a waist. One corner of her mouth lifts at keeping her unlaced pants on, and she only speaks on his last: "I don' think normal'n us are in the same Weyr, R'hin. We can always stay in. I'm more interested in where ya plan to take me." Dark eyes drop to the shirt chosen with an arched brow going his way. R'hin's chuckling at the concept of normal, moving back towards her. He folds the shirt briefly over his arm, while he reaches down for the laces of her pants. The bronzerider looks like he's considering a moment, playing with the ends, before he pulls them tight and starts to tie them in place. "Then out it shall be. I'll not tie these too tight, though -- wouldn't want to make it too difficult for myself, later," he's sliding a grin up at her as he finishes, before he holds the shirt out towards her. Her smile mirrors his, and Jo is casually still and lets him lace her pants back up. "As if ya ever had any difficulty with tight laces on a woman before," Jo notes as he ties with a teasingly bland tilt in her voice before collecting the shirt from him. She even undresses right before him - the tank top slipping over her head and off, meeting its fate on the ground of her weyr carelessly to take a moment a stretch, topless. Then, the more modest shirt she slips on to settle on her shoulders, transforming her into something more holder-like and civillized save for the wildness of her dark hair. That, she hardly tames, and slips one leg out to hook the free boot before stuffing her bare foot right into it. "Ya gonna tell me where we're goin' or it's a surprise?" she asks him while doing so. "I would hate to get blood on this nice shirt." He makes a noise, like stifled laughter. "Sometimes, tied laces can be very, very frustrating. And I'd like not to ruin a good pair of pants. Especially," R'hin's fingers trace down the line of stitching down the side of her pants, "Such a good looking pair." His gaze remains on her while she dresses, lips twitchinng. "Oh, it's definitely going to be a surprise. Leiventh will tell Tacuseth. And I promise -- no blood. No intention of blood, anyway," he amends, straightening and admiring her with an approving nod. "Ya'd have to buy me 'nother pair if ya did," Jo answers on ruined pants. "Good pants are hard to come by in this life." Especially hers, she seems to leave off as she smoothes both hands down herself in a signal that she was ready to go. She snorts on surprises and rolls her eyes, pivoting to head for the ledge. "Intention," she echoes that word sardonically with a look over her shoulder. "That's almost ominous, with you. I'm startin' to think blood'n fightin' is a kink of yers." A kink that seems to both amuse and delight, it seems as she nods to his approval. "Don't I know it," R'hin murmurs, of good pants. "This is definitely one of my favorite pairs," he adds, with a low-throated chuckle. His brows, however, go upwards at her accusation, hand touching his chest, defensively, "However could you think that, temptress? It's hardly my fault these things follow me around. I'm just that... lucky, I guess." He's moving as she is, following her out to the ledge. He's quick to mount up, with Leiventh finally stirring, dropping off the blue's ledge almost as soon as his rider is atop. The distinctive visuals of Nabol are painted in the image the bronze sends, pennants snapping in the sharp winds that ride over the Hold and the festivities below. "Glad ya think so," Jo is jaunty in that return on her pants, smug. She outright laughs at his latter, though, letting that be the response to that as she mounts up on a waiting blue and drops Between none too slow behind the bronze. Winking in, the blue is lazy in circling and riding the sharp winds as if Jo had wanted to take in the sights before landing. Whether the bronzepair detects it or not, the bluepair is slow to land. Leiventh, subtly, adjusts his descent to be nearer to the blue's, and if he's uncertain about the reason for the change of pace, it doesn't flicker in the bronze's cold winds, held close as they are. It's wet here too, though the rain is patchier and lighter for now, though the puddle R'hin drops into suggests it hasn't been that way all day. The bronzerider's definitely looking in Tacuseth's direction, as he waits, pale eyes undoubtedly curious. Once Tacuseth eventually lands, Jo dismounts with a slight frown as she looks around. Maybe one won't miss the fact that her left hand is lingering too close to the wickedly curved knife hidden there at her side, her fingers twitching as if danger was lurking around the corner. Still, once she pats the blue and steps away towards R'hin, her face is back to its composure of brazen arrogance and non-chalance. "Didn' know Nabol was havin' one of these things," she notes with a nod towards the music and colorful tents. There's a tenseness in her tone, not so easy to detect. "All nearby must be attendin', eh?" Odd words, maybe, but she's gesturing for them to proceed. R'hin, by likely deliberate contrast, appears at ease, and when she nears him, he slips a casual arm around her waist. That he does so from the right is likely no coincidence, and neither is the way in which his fingers casually hook into the waist of her pants. "More than likely," he agrees. "What to, first? A walk around to get the lay of the land?" Jo's hand forcibly lifts from the knife, and it seems to be a feat for her as she focuses on R'hin with that easy lopsided smile. Lefting him hook her by the pants, she nods on his answers and seems to be visibly tense up at his suggestion before her body relaxes - inch by inch - and she gives an light shrug. "Log as we hit whatever it is they call drinks 'round here first," she answers in her usual non-chalant grace. She'll even get them going, fingers splaying on his back and letting them look for all in Pern as if they're merely a couple. Her dark gaze is quick to take in every passing face though, as they descend into the gather, seeming to not want to miss a single person as they go. R'hin's attention, too, is on the crowd around them -- as much habit as picking up on Jo's mood. Despite the light autumn rain, there's plenty of people out and about, from Esvay to Keogh and some as far afield as Plateau or Greenfields. He doesn't seem to spot any familiar faces -- at least not ones he reacts to, anyway -- angling them slowly but surely towards the nearest tent to offer wines or stronger. Jo follows R'hin's lead with no protest and the drinks tent seems to bring a glimmer of relief to her features as she descends on the nearest table. Grabbing the darkest liquid there, "What's yer poison?" she asks R'hin right then. "Are ya lookin' to get piss-drunk today or is there 'nother agenda? Can' have ya too drunk to fumble with my laces later," she notes wryly in his direction as she hooks two empty cups and angles her hips to give him room to come close. Her eyes does connect with someone passing them at that moment - a non-descript man with distinct looks from Crom, nodding in her direction briefly before flicking a glance towards R'hin is gone in a span of seconds. "I wouldn't dare drink enough to stop me unlacing your fine pants later, temptress," the bronzerider replies with a low laugh. "But we ought to start with something to warm the blood, don't you think?" R'hin nods in approval of her selection, sliding in so that his leg presses against hers. Perhaps he notices Jo's attention flicking away, or maybe that glance of the man in his direction, though all the Wingleader does is lean in to press lips to Jo's ear, murmuring a beat later, "Friend?" Jo is already pouring her first cup as R'hin answers her with forced laughter. It was proving hard to completely hide her uneasiness, after all. When he comes close, her arm snakes around him as if to cling to him before she quips back, "Would anythin've stopped ya?" she asks playfully, passing the filled cup to him before picking up another. When he addresses the man that passed, "Greenfields," is all she seems to say on him. There's a heavy pause before she murmurs back in addition, "Where I came from. I stole his purse from him once, in a rather rousin' card game. I think he's forgiven me since, even if I hadn' yet given it back." Her own cup is filled and she drinks deep. R'hin's left hand slides comfortably down around her waist and settles into the crook of her back. He takes the glass, tinking it against her own, though he doesn't immediately lift it to his lips, given there's a brief tightening as she mentions Greenfields. "Mm. Forgiveness is a strange creature. Sometimes it's just revenge-wrapped-in-patience." This time, he brings the glass to his lips, though he doesn't drink overly deeply -- just enough to wet his his lips and throat. The taste of the liquid is likely still on his lips when he leans in to press them against Jo's, murmuring near inaudibly, "We could go have a conversation with your friend. Settle things once and for all?" Her cup is mercilessly empty, and Jo is already reaching to refill it. His touch seems to calm her, the intensity in her wiry frame seeming to relax right then as her cup's contents is restored. This time, she doesn't down it so much as hold it hostage, his words on the man bringing a grim, "That's familiar a feelin', darlin'." She watches him drink, now, seeming to take comfort in that so when he leans in to murmur, there's that rare, genuine smile from her first before she caresses her free hand across his back and murmurs back, "I have a feelin' he will be the least of my worries by the end of this day." Leaning back a little to see him more, "Us criminals have a code, after all," she says, a touch wry. "I know his weakness'n he knows that I know. That is enough to keep him at bay. 'Sides," and then, her gaze flicks beyond him to something unseen behind R'hin: the crowd parts long enough further down and beyond the tent to reveal a large group of Keogh guards. There's a grunt, more of an acknowledgement and acceptance of her words than satisfaction, as such. The bronzerider, however, seems to trust her judgement on that score, even if he only takes a minimal sip of the liquid as she moves onto her second. R'hin's hand moves against her back, and he shifts slightly, his grip tightening as he twists, bending her back like he's dipping her in the middle of some dance. The fact that it allows him to get a sidelong look of whatever's caught Jo's attention is undoubtedly the reason, surprise flickering briefly in pale gaze as he straightens once more. He's silent, gaze on Jo, as if preparing to take a lead for how to play this from the bluerider. Jo is easy to catch on. She maneuvers when R'hin does, the dip getting a slight shift from her with her lips close to his as he gets a look at the guards. When he looks back at him, "I believe ya did promise me a dance," she notes, her hand snaking down to catch his as she straightens them. "One far from stiff eyes." The guards. "Yer face is the only one I wanna see today." As in, her face wasn't exactly popular in these parts, so concealing it from them would be best. Whether R'hin guessed her meanings or not, she's leading him by the hand towards the dance grounds with her wild dark hair falling into her face. "I did," R'hin notes with a hint of amusement, giving up his glass easily enough. The fact that he half turns his head as they walk, burying it into the side of her hair as if murmuring something to her suggests he understands her meaning well enough; it also allows him to keep a track of whether the Keogh guards follow in their wake or not. The harpers are playing some fast tune, which is not exactly in their favor. The bronzerider slows his pace a moment, to attract the attention of a woodcrafter apprentice standing at the edge of the dance floor, slipping him a coin, "Ask the harpers to switch to a slow dance, would you lad? I want some time with my lady," with a wink, before he slides back into place alongside Jo. That rumble of laughter is what R'hin can feel more than hear from Jo as they both move from the tent into the light. Her smile brightens when R'hin gets the passing woodcrafter to go change the tempo of the music, playing the part as if the it suited her. "Yer charms rival mine, I see," she says, going to wrap her arms about him as she dips her head close to crook of his neck - which conceals much of her face. "Distract me," she murmurs, close, the words very low as almost to have been missed before she adds in a louder voice, "I trust things are better now than when I last left ya?" It's more statement than question, but the slight intonation is there as the music changes. Whether she notices or not, one of the guards does slip from the large group and lingers after them - though, for the moment he seems to be using the ebb and flow of the crowd as camouflage. They're not the only ones heading out onto the floor as the music changes, and R'hin positions them near the middle, his arms settling around Jo's waist. He can't see her expression, and vice versa, but there's a slight tightening of arms as she asks for distraction; a moment of surprise perhaps, that is smoothed over with the words that follow: "Better than they were. I owe you," is said with some amount of forcefulness, like it's a debt he intends to repay in full. Pale gaze flickers across the faces in the crowd over her head; it doesn't seem like he's caught sight of that one guard yet, but he's alert and watching. "We should do that for real, one day. Take a few days, just head off somewhere warm, with some supplies. Maybe visit a bar or two here and there because," she can probably feel as much as hear his laughter, "Let's face it, we're us." Settling into the song - into R'hin - Jo seems to let the tension ebb away the more they sway into the music. As if the dance floor was safe enough. She lifts her head enough to see his face upon hearing his answer, studying him before she gives a thoughtful, shallow nod of her head. "I'd fight the world, for a friend," is her simple explanation for that debt, shaking her head once to it. To the rest, "We should," she agrees warmly. "Toss in a brawl for kink'n that w'll make it us." Low laughter to that as the male guard edges closer, still concealing himself to the edge of the dance floor. "Next time," she continues to say soberly. "We'll do that. Somewhere where they don' know us." Her simple words are enough to draw R'hin's gaze, and yet the depth of expression the words evoke in the bronzerider are anything but simple. Surprise, understanding, and warmth are offset by wariness and weariness, culminating in a mixed expression backed by a wordless nod of head. It's some time, several turns of the floor, during which she has his attention, rather than the crowds around them, before he says, "Yes," in a vehement tone, a hint of laughter creeping in. "Somewhere where we are no one." Jo watches those mix - those complex - of emotions, so the nod is mirrored by her own before letting the matter drop. The dance, and him, gives her the distraction she needs and the ease in which is falls into every step as she grins to his agreement. In earnest now, "We should do it soon," she states quickly. "There's this place I wanna show ya first-" "Jolie?" The male voice stops her flow of words - and her movements - cold. With all of his attention focused on Jo, R'hin, too, is stopped short by the voice nearby, albeit likely for different reasons. Something hard and cold flows into his features, and into his voice, too, as he takes a step forward, sliding all-too-easily into the part of aggressive alpha male. "Think you must be mistaken, friend. This is my wife, Anamari, and you're interrupting our dance." Jo doesn't turn her stiff back around right away. R'hin is easy to step around her, the convict rider seeming to have frozen on the spot and so therefore doesn't see (or seem to hear) the goingons around her. The man is tall and dressed in the garb of a full rank Keogh guard, and his tanned features are hard-pressed to resemble Jo's. The difference falls onto his open face, missing the dark lines that hardship seems to have lent the bluerider. He gives R'hin when he's suddenly faced with him a curious glance, but it's to Jo's back that he states his answer for the bronzerider: "I'm sorry that ya've been duped then, sir, for I know my own sister from anywhere." Looking straight at R'hin now, "'N whatever name she may have given ya in exchange, I can promise ya that it ain' Anamari," he adds now, perhaps in provoke. Jo's head turns but a fraction, and the look she gives R'hin is one of a chagrined wife with widened eyes as if she has been found out. There's a slight narrowing of gaze, and yet R'hin's eyes don't shift from the guard's. "Sister, is it?" with a noise in the back of his throat. He half turns to regard Jo; there's something dark in stirring in his gaze, and yet he fairly quickly turns back towards the guard: "Don't care what her name is. Anamari or this Jolie." He huffs a breath, and it carries, louder now, to draw attention of other dances, and likely the harpers as well: "I love this damn woman and you'll step back!" Jo meets R'hin's gaze hard. It's like her usually calculating mind has, for the moment, gone completely blank. It's only when he looks away to address her brother that she slowly turns to finally face him. The guard, for his part, thins his mouth at the bronzerider's declaration before fully meeting Jo's piercing gaze. "Yer a fool to be taken in by a con," he says it so calmly, his eyes never leaving Jo's even if the words were meant for him. "Perhaps she inherited such a gift from our ma after all." These words are spoken quietly, and he watches Jo's eyes narrow at him. Back to R'hin, when his voice rises, the guard makes a tch sound as he sends a hard look at anyone paying them mind before he hisses, "Unless ya wanna bring the whole damn hold down on yerselves!" and he gestures swiftly towards the large grouping of guards down the line. Jo manages to find her tongue, and all that comes out is a simple, and resigned, "Jolan." "Ain't no con to love a women, and if you think it is well, I'm not the one whose a fool," R'hin replies. He's picked his story and he's sticking to it, even despite the fact that the hard looks from the guard send several other dancers skittering off the floor, leaving a wide berth around them. "Depends," his head lowers, "Whether you want to bring them down on you, for assaulting a guest of the Hold. Ain't much use for an ex guard around these parts." Even if it's not directed at him, Jo's single word stiffens his posture, yet he doesn't take his eyes off her brother, despite the words that are directed towards her, "We've got plans, darling. Ain't gonna break 'em, are you?" "Jolie," Jolan looks almost relieved that it's been confirmed at least, looking Jo over critically first before he does R'hin (and R'hin's position to her). "So yer not dead, after all. The other rumors must be true, then." He doesn't say what those rumors are; instead, he focuses on R'hin. "No one's assaultin' no one," he answers something he says, the lift of one corner of his mouth reminiscent of Jo. "Not with one of the Head guards, here," and there's a significant look going to Jo, in which she blanches. "He's in quite the mood, too," he adds to R'hin, though one can see the words are aimed at Jo, too. "If I were ya, I'd leave." Jo knows a hint, a warning - a dismissal - when she sees one. She turns to R'hin then, inclining her head towards him before she answers, "We've got plans'n I ain' breakin'. Nabol's borin', anyway," this she delivers for Jolan's sake. "Can' get rowdy with a bunch'a guards around." Jolan snorts. The fact that R'hin's positioned himself slightly in front of, but to the right of Jo is no coincidence; he remembers the hand with which she was unconsciously or otherwise reaching for her knife earlier. "If you barely recognize her and she ain't talked to you in Turns, you might wanna let her stay dead," the bronzerider suggests, blandly; Jo's words make him half turn towards her, backing up a step until he can sense her near. "Might as well. Even the harpers have given up," a tip of head is given those on the platform; it's clear they're going through the motions but watching the events unfold practically in front of them, too. His gaze doesn't stay on Jolan, however; instead, he turns, leaning in to Jo and settling familiar hand across her stomach, murmuring into her ear in a way that probably makes the words seem far more suggestive than the reality: "You're in charge, darlin'. Following your lead." "What's been seen cannot be unseen," Jolan states on letting Jo stay dead. Looking to the guards, who are now starting to look in their direction, "But I can deflect, at least, in exchange for a meet," and he looks to Jo on this. "When the moon falls," he recites to her some words with a hint of anger. "Perhaps Anamaris memory will serve her well in this. Tonight. Don' forget." And then, before Jo or R'hin could say anything else, Jolan is turning to disperse the crowd and to cajole the harpers back into playing a jauntier tune than before - effectively concealing himself from the dragonriders, and the dragonriders from the guards. Jo looks for him in vain a few moments before turning back to R'hin, visibly unnerved she smoothes it over with a hand to his arm and a nod to get them off the dance floor. With a gentle tug, she murmurs to R'hin for only his ears to hear, "I should've mentioned before. My family. I'm..." sorry. "But I believe I now owe ya a proper gather." R'hin's gaze flickers back towards Jolan, pale, intent gaze taking in the man like he's memorizing, for later. He glances back to Jo, just in time to catch her expression, and seeing her rattled is unnerving enough to earn a twitch in his expression. His hand slips around her waist again, and he steps in line with her guidance, heading for the edge, for the anonymity of the crowd. He shakes his head sharply, at the unspoken apology, "You don't owe me an explaination. We established we both have pasts." He moves in silence for a moment, gaze flickering across the crowd, turning them left, abruptly, as he spots what might or might not be a guard, keeping them moving. She speaks of gathers, but he; "When the moon falls?" with a beat, the words near inaudible as he exhales. "Bring me. I'll stay far enough not to hear, but -- at least let me return the favor and watch your back, as you watched mine, not so long ago." Indeed, despite Jo leading them both off the floor and out of the gather grounds, she can feel the eyes that indicate their every move is being watched. She nods wordlessly on them have pasts, but it's the latter that has her speaking. Touching his arm and staying there, "Words from a broken-hearted sibling," she murmurs with a faint touch of guilt. "We were close, once. I reckon he's been bitter all this time." Stopping abruptly to turn and face him, "He has more to fear from me than I from him," she states it like it's a fact. "I hope it's simply a meet and not somethin' worse. If he's bitter, his loyalties to me may not be as it was before." She turns to move with him again towards their dragons, her legs swift as she adds, "I welcome ya at my back. Ya wouldn' need to hide. If the look on his face told me anythin', he won' be alone either." "I can see why he'd miss you," R'hin says, with a little twitch of lips, drawn to a halt by the touch of her hand on his arm. He lifts a hand and brushes some of that hair back from her face, exhaling slowly. "He was loyal enough to let you go," the bronzerider observes, "But not so much as to not keep an eye on you. Does he know you have a dragon? If not -- we might want to keep that as an ace," he suggests, moving again as she nods. His, "Good," to her latter comment is rather vehement, and pleased to boot. "He'n Lijo," Jo states another brother with a soft snort. "We three were inseparable." She faces him and frowns slightly as she listens, the brush of her wild mess of hair drawing a faint grin from her before it fades as she returns, "In fairness, I was the one that walked." Looking where their dragons are, "I have a feelin' those rumors he's heard likely have nothin' to do with me bein' a 'rider." So, she nods an the ace angle and leads them to their dragons before letting him go and looking please to his agreement of coming a long. "Ya may end up bored to tears, watchin' a bunch'a brothers'n sisters spat," she warns in a tease, letting her amusement return. If he's silent throughout her talk of her brothers and sisters, it could well be ascribed to a lack of understanding; but then, it might just be a faint trace of jealousy in the sidelong, thoughtful look he gives her. "It might be a nice change. Watching others fight. I'll be betting on a sure thing, though," R'hin says, leaning down to kiss her in response to that tease. His fingers trailing down her back, he says, "How about we go see about getting those pants off you back home, hm?" It's hard for Jo to miss much, so the silence from R'hin does get her curious study before she chuckles into a return kiss on his words about fights. "Too bad it won' be the fun kind," she says with open non-chalance. But she's had enough of Nabol, its gather and its guards as she draws him against her briefly on his suggestion, giving him her potent answer physically rather than in words. "Ya lead, I follow," is what she states, grabbing ahold of Tacuseth's straps once she's trailed lingering fingers along his jaw - it meant to convey her thanks in more than words. R'hin gives her a low-throated laugh in turn, and his lingering gaze says a long more, too -- before he's stirred to movement and heads likewise, for Leiventh. Mere moments later they're airborne, waiting for the blue to join them before they disappear for the familiarity and warmth of home, and old welcome routines. |
Comments
Alida (02:59, 17 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
Ok; now my interest is deeply whetted! I'd enjoy seeing how this meeting turns out! :D
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