Logs:Opinions Shared and Silenced
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| RL Date: 19 March, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, K'del, Cadejoth, N'hax, Jhorinth, Alida, Ilicaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rider and weyrlings have a chat, sharing opinions on the start of weyrlinghood, hair cuts, lice, Cadejoth's weight-- wait, what? |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 4, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: A layer of patch clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today. |
| Mentions: Sabella/Mentions |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north. Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries.
Taiga wing has been aloft above the Weyr for some time, now, executing some precise maneouvers in strict formation... or what might be strict and precise if they were one of the wings that drilled more often. Now, with the last of the sun beginning to think about leaving, the wing as a whole drops back towards the bowl floor, to disperse. Cadejoth's one amongst the group, and K'del as well, though the bronzerider disengages from his wingmates soon after they land, heading off towards the caverns-- and, coincidentally at first, if more focusedly soon after, K'zin and Rasavyth. "Hey," he says. "How's he going?" The staring contest is eyed; for N'hax, it's with amusement - for Jhorinth, it is merely part of his perpetual watchfulness. The man places a hand mildly against the shoulder of his lifemate, still barely waist-high, checking speed to a mere wander as they move forward, still far enough off from K'zin and K'del to not really require a ton of acknowledgement. Are they creepin'? They may be creepin'. (But they're creepin' slowly towards the pair... trio? - to be sure.) A much-relieved blue dragonet steps a bit eagerly out into the bowl, his hide freshly oiled with a blend of the stuff that's thicker than normal, 1in order to sink more steadily into his skin. At the feeling of the warmer air, the kinder sun, Ilicaeth gives a mellow young dragon croon, the sound (and perhaps the day itself) inspiring the following Alida to offer her own, rarer smile. They pair are simply walking, taking in what's left of the daylight, when the scrappy blue notices his clutchsib sitting farther out in the bowl. With an easy chuff and a slightly more animated flicking of his ever-mobile tail, 'caeth strides off in Rasavyth's direction...and when he reaches to within 15 feet of the bronze, offers a warble of greeting...which extends to Cadejoth and K'del when they wing down and approach. Alida gives the older bronzer a salute and then a bob of her fair head, while K'zin receives a more familiar, "Hey..." My goodness, she's garrulous today. Greens flick over to the approaching N'hax and Jhorinth when the guard takes in the sounds of their approach, her lips twitching into a small smirk-smile as she notes to nobody in particular, "Looks like we got us a bonified gather going." Snort. "Hey K'del," The former-Smith greets the former-Weyrleader with a tone that hints at relief. As soon as the recognition is made, the sharp-featured bronze face jerks to look and the body twists around to follow. His attention doesn't linger long on K'del, though, bejeweled gaze going beyond him, in a search that can easily be assumed as one for the older man's lifemate. "It's going-- alright, I suppose." He says so, though there's a troubled look about him. Nothing too obvious, just something. In Rasavyth's search, he finds Jhorinth and his lifemate, and his pose alters as he makes a bright greeting to both the bronze pair and the blue. Then there's Cadejoth, who's... stared at. "Hey, 'lida." Then louder, "Hey, N'hax! You like what you see?" This is called in the classic tone of guys who give each other a hard time. K'zin flips his (as yet, but not much longer!) long runner's tail and wiggles his shoulders. Cadejoth was keeping his distance, but something about being sought out seems to ease whatever reasons he had for doing so; now, he draws himself aloft, but only briefly, only for as long as it takes to glide into the vicinity of the others, huffing warm breath at the two closest young dragons in turn (these being, of course, Rasavyth and Ilicaeth). His rider shoves his hands in his pockets, blowing out a long breath of his own as he allows his gaze to be shifted from K'zin to the distant N'hax, and then back towards Alida. It doesn't linger; biting his lip, he gives K'zin a second glance, this one more studying than the first. "It's hard," he offers. "The early days. Whatever your dragon is like." Glimmers on transparent space wink at Cadejoth like stars in the night sky as Rasavyth's mind approaches the older bronze's consciousness. « Well, hello! » The tenor tones are bright and the temperature of his touch is warm. « May I introduce myself? » (Rasavyth to Cadejoth) A clank and jangle accompany Cadejoth's reply, his thoughts bright with irrepressible interest and delight-- the twang of metal and the rattle of bones so present in his thoughts. « You may, » he says, in his own light tenor. He is Cadejoth, though it's more the sense of that (and him) that he shares than the actual name; the name, surely, is understood. (Cadejoth to Rasavyth) The bronze-pair approaches, N'hax with his hands in his pockets, Jhorinth with an innate confidence to his step. K'zin's antics prompt a short laugh. "Oh yeah, shake it for me, baby," comes the wry comment from the former, causing the latter to cast a cocked-head gaze upwards: doubtless a question THERE. N'hax nods briefly at Alida, inclines his head a little more formally to the older bronzerider. "K'del," he greets with the appropriate respect, leaning back on his heels as Jhorinth twines around his legs, the unconscious guardian, keeping an eye on that which occurs about them. Another, if softer snort of low humor is given off when Alida notes K'zin giving N'hax shit, the young woman quickly easing into the companionable jibing with a glib, "How c'n 'e give you the good rodgering you want when yer not wearin' your dress, Waki?" Smirk. The blonde then quiets in order to listen to the others, her incisive greens flicking to what appears to be a hesitant K'del before moving to the various dragons gathering all about them. And Ilicaeth? He's chuffing to his other clutchsib, then looking up-up at the elder bronze, and warbling a raspy « Greetings, Cadejoth » to him...the hello full of curiosity. As an addendum, Alida notes dryly of N'hax's own riposte to K'zan, "See? Just give 'im the dress, and he's yours." Wink. His youth makes it easy to recognize as Rasavyth makes a quick study of the elements so far offered by Cadejoth's mind and the transparency shimmers and shifts, like a little re-arranging a the blocks of a puzzle that can make many scenes, depending on the face of the block shown. There are those who say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and from the words that follow, accompanied by a mimic of clank and jangle, metal and bone, seem to be aimed at that, though they seem genuine enough, « My K'zin thinks quite highly of you and yours. As well he might, » The tenor purrs this as approval for the opinion. « I am Rasavyth. » His choice to introduce himself with words, rather than the feeling of who he is may be telling as he reflects back those things that are already in the other dragon's mind. « And I should like very much to learn from you. » It's a bold request, but then so, too, is Rasavyth. (Rasavyth to Cadejoth) To Rasavyth, Cadejoth is not... shall we say, the most complicated of dragons. He seems pleased by what Rasavyth has to say; pleased, too, by that mimicry, shown by a spark that travels about his chains with a zip and hiss. « We like yours, » he says, taking part ownership of the opinion. « We're glad you found him. Of course-- I will teach you what I can. I know many things. » How to fly, how to chase, how to give in to adrenaline and joy; he knows these things well. "You could say that twice and it would be true both times. Possibly truer the second than the first." K'zin offers in response to the rider, a familiar good-humored grin planting itself on his face. He pushes his hands off the ground, eyes going to N'hax as he rises. For a moment it looks as though he might oblige the other former Smith, but just as his body starts to wriggle, a hand is held out with index finger extend. He wags it in the air, "Just because you're a bronzer now, doesn't mean I'd ever believe you were mistaking me for a girl in the bathes, and especially not once you've called me Lady Smith!" The nickname is pitched into a falsetto squeal of delight, mimicking what N'hax might sound like were the joked scenario to occur. "Alas, Alida, I'm not sure Lady Smith will ever show her face again. Ras doesn't approve, not even as a joke. Apparently, I'm to appear manly at all times. Did I tell you he's pushing for hair cuts sooner rather than later?" The betrayer. A look is given to the dragon in question, who looks utterly innocent of any wrong-doing. « Hello! » enthuses Cadejoth, with a jangle of metal and bone. He looms, probably unintentionally, above the small dragons, barely able to restrain his puppy-like enthusiasm. "Xha-- er, N'hax. Hello." K'del doesn't seem to know what to say with regards to the present shift of conversation, all those references to Lady Smith, but it doesn't seem to bother him-- mostly, he seems amused by it. To K'zin, "Let me be not-even-remotely the first to reassure you that it gets easier, eventually. He's probably right with your hair, though, you know. It's... easier, short. Also, when I was a weyrling we had an outbreak of, uh, lice, and..." To Cadejoth, Rasavyth can't help himself. Charm begins to ooze into the gaps between the chains, like oil, causing the clinking sound to become sweeter, somehow, but no less home-y. « He is a good sort of fellow, isn't he? » There's pride in this comment, and certainly the familiar possessiveness that many dragons are given to when it comes to their lifemates. « He does have quite a lot to learn, though. I'm hoping yours will continue to help mentor him. I feel, from what he's shared with me so far, » He makes it sound like K'zin had a choice in the matter. « About you and yours that he could learn much and more from your lifemate, and I from you. I'm certainly interested in flying, chasing, and- » Less certainly. « Joy. But I'm also interested in how you perform your duties within a wing, and how you performed them differently, before. » He doesn't say it, but it echoes softly, gently, in the touch when you were weyrleader. N'hax glances momentarily at Alida, though he doesn't seem to linger overlong, more focused on snorting with laughter at K'zin's antics. "Well. Lady Smith made a tremendous amount of sense, at the time..." He seems pretty mellow about the whole thing, scruffing his short thatch of hair with a calloused hand, as if to show the terrible amount of contrast between K'zin's dedication to the whole long-hair thing and... N'hax's would-bic-it-bald-if-he-could disregard. Grey eyes land on Ras, instead, thoughtful. The rasp of a file against Cadejoth's chains vibrates into the basso of Jhorinth's words, issuing choate into the mindlink, the steam of forge's quench sizzling a tenor backdrop: « You are awfully large, » because that's totally a greeting, right? N'hax covers a laugh with a cough, focuses his attention on K'del. "Lice? Really? Even -more- reason to lop it all off." He issues a short, flat gesture with the side of his hand, as if to demonstrate. Squatting on her haunches beside the peering Ilicaeth puts Alida at an interesting vantage point upon which to view the others around her, the ex-guard allowing her eyes to shuffle over each of the males in turn as she smirks back to K'zin's retort. A lift of a pale brow transitions into a curious study of Rasavyth, the woman finally shifting her gaze over to K'del when he starts speaking to the others. In a subconscious motion, one hand raises and touches her own long braid, an expression compounded of disgust, wariness, and resolve given when the elder bronzer speaks of haircuts and lice. "There's near-instant cures fer lice. No need..." the blonde notes to N'hax, her expression a little pensive. This charm... were it not for the solid bonds between his rider and Rasavyth's, perhaps he might draw back from such charm; as it stands, he lets it wash over him, content to let it fill in the cracks, even dim the clanking (for now). « He intends to, » is his answer to the first of those remarks. « He enjoys such things. » His recollections of his time as Weyrleader are dim at best, but his rider's mind is a treasure trove of such things. If the reference to those times, even made subtly, surprise the older bronze, he shows no sign of it. « I will certainly share what I can, » he confirms. (Cadejoth to Rasavyth) "Lice?!" In this moment, K'zin sounds as girl as he ever has. Rasavyth's head jerks to eye his rider and snort is given in disapproval. One hand rises to scratch K'zin's head, as though the very idea makes him itchy. "We could live somewhere else. Somewhere with no lice." He suggests, though clearly, this is impossible. The whole topic of Lady Smith seems forgotten. "Isn't it hard enough to adjust to being riders without having our identities stolen from us as well? I mean, poor Sabella, she was a hairdresser, and she won't have enough left to dress!" Or so he will argue. Rasavyth observes the interaction between large bronze and smaller bronze clutchmate and blue. « Impressive, isn't he? » His admiration of this bronze in particular is clear. The charm? He can't help it. Rasavyth just exudes it. It's the part of himself that is not transparent, that is there to be seen and observed. It's the only part that has he gains familiarity and skill that betray his mimics for what they are: reflections of the other. « I shall be your best pupil! » The young bronze assures his mentor. « And I am quite eager to learn. We can begin whenever you like and go for as long as you like. » Because he doesn't need oiling or food or sleep like baby dragons! Owait, yes he does! The cocky surety of the tone though speaks otherwise. It's laughable, really, to those who know better. (Rasavyth to Cadejoth) "Oh, there's need," puts in K'del, indicating his own curls with his fingers, and miming a shaving motion. "Couple of us went bald. It's the easiest way to deal with it; tried the concoction they tried to give us, first, and it was messy and unproductive. Bald was definitely easier." He drops his hand again, returning it towards his pocket, where it hangs, loosely. "One of the hazards of living in close proximity, I guess; and no, there's nothing can be done about that, not yet. Few months, though... Cheer up, K'zin. Hair'll grow back, and there's still ways to dress short hair... mostly." He thinks. « Yes, » says Cadejoth, answering Jhorinth with a rattle and twitch of metal, and the low, distant thud of bone. « I suppose I am. Perhaps you will be bigger, one day. » Rasavyth's words? Why yes, he does seem pleased with them. There's no way, of course, that Cadejoth can remember that Rasavyth is his grandson (twice over, you shut up, inbreeding), but perhaps he's picked some of that up from his rider... or perhaps it's simply natural. There's something warmly paternal about his regard, now, and the low mirth he shares. « You will need to be a little older, young Rasavyth, » he says. « If you intend to be large enough to do many things, you will need to concentrate your energies on growing first, I think! » (Cadejoth to Rasavyth) N'hax allows his focus to drift to Alida again, with that last statement. "Near-instant cures for /lice/?" His incredulity is built on the bones of one who has seen what people living in close confines throughout the length of long winters can cause to happen in regards to lice. "It isn't as if either of us can go back to forge things," he comments to K'zin: "Why should it be an issue if Sabs has nothing to dress?" The crookedness of his smile may indicate he's thinking things he really SHOULDN'T be. Luckily, Jhorinth is well-preoccupied: « I was thinking overfed, myself, » is his echo of Rasavyth's 'impressive' comment. « And maybe a little pom-- » Whatever he was GOING to say is cut off by an abrupt clamping of N'hax's hand to his muzzle. "Uh, excuse us," sayeth the weyrling; "We need to be going." One-sided argument can be heard going away, steady strides and the grinding conflict of immovable object vs unstoppable force. The way that Alida's hand now cups over her braid, and the suddenly cool look upon her features might make enough folks think that she's going to hell to anyone who tries to take it away from her. Her gaze jerks over to N'hax, sighting in on him like someone standing before a target, ready to shoot, and quickly the blonde's voice rings out in a clipped, "Yes. We had 'em back in the Pars barracks one Turn. Two uv the workers put t'gether their heads, and made some horrid concoction from both their gammies that put a stop to it within 3 days. It stank like a wher's ass and made yer nose run, but damn...it *worked*...and on hair 'n surfaces." And then Jhorinth is saying that, and Ilicaeth's faithfully transmitting such to his rider... and Alida's suddenly smirking madly, her face now hawkish with the mix of some ire and dark humor. To Rasavyth, the little blue rumbles some sort of private communication. « Form doesn't necessarily follow function, in this case. » (Ilicaeth to Rasavyth) « My dear fellow, » Rasavyth's tone is dismayed, « Are you having trouble with your eyesight? I can think of no other reason you'd think so. » Deep concern rings truly in the friendly touch of the slender bronze, « And were that to be the case, which of course it isn't, one might argue that it would take one to know one. » The slighter bronze twists a little, being lighter and shorter (though not by much) than Jhorinth, on account of his frame. K'zin isn't, apparently, paying any mind to the dragons' conversation, so distracted he is by the notion of lice. His fingers continue to scratch at his scalp. Alida's talk of a cure has him wrinkling his nose. "I think I'd choose bald over that." He glances to N'hax and rolls his eyes, "Shouldn't, can't mistake her for a man any which way you look at her." You know, from the side... from the front... from the back... "I hear she has a graduation date with N'ky for going to Ista." He volunteers this to the other weyrling as he's moving away in a just in case you wanted to know kind of way. He looks then to K'del, biting his lower lip. It's not embarrassment, just something going unsaid. To Cadejoth, Rasavyth seems to puzzle at this sentiment. The chains rattle and the metallic sound becomes sharper, less charming, with the little bronze's annoyance at encountering something he has difficulty understanding. « But how? » He eventually brings himself to ask, though the chains of his touch seem to bind tighter and tighter, almost suffocating until he finally asks his question. « I can grow smarter by purposeful learning, » Isn't that's just scary? This clever and getting smarter? « But what can I do to grow larger beyond what I am doing already to eat and exercise? » Exercise is said with distaste, but the story is there on the surface: K'zin likes it, so they do it together. Cadejoth's head turns, following the departing N'hax and Jhorinth with rapidly whirling eyes, and-- is that amusement? He turns back to the remaining dragons, huffing out another low breath, easily. K'del - who probably isn't following that conversation in any sense - gives the departing weyrling a strange look, but doesn't linger on it: K'zin's bit lip catches more of his attention, and results in a half-nod, a forward motion of his head that doesn't quite go as far as it could. "If it's the same stuff they had us trying, I'd rather go bald, too," he says, harking back to that conversation with a rueful wrinkle of his nose. "Gross." "You're a guy..." Alida ripostes in grumbly fashion to K'zin, the blonde perhaps oddly protective of something on her person that might be called quite 'feminine.' She finally forces her hand to quit cupping that braid, the heavy thing lashed irritably behind her back once more, even as the ex-guard mumbles of the head-scritching Waki, "Yer' such a spaz." Eyeroll. She notes the bronzer's lip-biting, then looking to K'del quickly in order to try and catch his reaction to such, even as Ilicaeth chuffs a goodbye to Jhorinth and his human. To K'del, a glower is given by the Parsian female, though she doesn't say anything to him. It's in her irritated greens, though: wuss! To Ilicaeth, Rasavyth projects, « Sometimes, » the charming tenor of the bronze replies, « Appearances can be deceiving. » Jhorinth's voice reaches longer and farther than N'hax can march him away in such a time; a snort his retort for Rasavyth's sophistry. « Got a little something on your nose there. Oh, right, it's because you're shoving it sideways up Cadejoth's... » GANK. kthx, gotta go guys, lifemate won't let me keep beatin' everyone up. (Everyone may now breathe a sigh of relief; exit Jhorinth, stage left.) Why does the usually balls-out blue seems to be...smirking? That's the feeling Rasavyth might get from the lazy swirl of his vari-colored sands as they swirl up before the bronze's eyes. « Indeed. » (Ilicaeth to Rasavyth) Rasavyth twitches, though whether in response to his lifemate's itchiness or in surprise at Jhorinth's departing comments, it's anyone's guess. Amusement emanates from the little bronze, rippling to the closest dragon minds. K'zin starts to reach a hand out to his lifemate, but thinks better of it in present company (or is instructed better), and transforms the movement into something that helps him get up on his feet, stretching once he's done so. "Your wing looked solid in those drills, K'del, from what I could see of the lower ones. Good visibility today and all that." Yep, let's talk about the weather. Alida gets an eyeroll for her insult. "You're going soft." He exchanges, his arms crossing his chest. "Not a month ago, you'd've called me worse." Which is probably true. Though her going soft? Maybe not. He might just be trying to get under her skin. To Rasavyth, Cadejoth is prompt in this answer. « Eat and sleep and exercise is the best you can do. » he says. « Look after yourself in body, as much as you do in mind. It's important. » In other words: no, there's not much more you can do, but Cadejoth seems perfectly content with this answer. Granted, it's not as though he is huge for a bronze. Once again the little bronze's youth betrays him. The chains rattle in rebellion. « But that's boring! Aren't there other more interesting things I can learn? I mean, I'll still do them of course, » He begins to temper his childish outburst, « But I want more. » Then again, he'll always want more. (Rasavyth to Cadejoth) "It was one of my female clutchmates who started the head shaving when I was a weyrling," comments K'del, mildly, letting his gaze rest on Alida meaningfully. He's suddenly held at his full height, with that subtle air of authority in place; he means business. "Thanks, K'zin. The-- we're getting there. Improving. Trying out some new things. Not that we drill all that much." Abruptly, however, his attention goes distracted, and then he sighs. "Gotta run, unfortunately. Look after yourself, okay?" Evidently, Alida doesn't get the same; he only nods in her direction, before hurrying off. « Easy there, » says Cadejoth, not quite a chide-- it's too gentle for that. « Give it time. There's so much to do and learn, first. You'll grow. You'll get more. Promise. » But-- His thoughts go distant, too, for a moment, and then there's a reluctant: « We'll talk more soon. » (Cadejoth to Rasavyth) Again, the faithful Ilicaeth offers up his own dry rendition of Jhorinth's comment to Alida, and this time the blonde responds by leaning over her little blue in order to smother a peal of dark laughter into his shoulder. Is she crying? The cold hearted bitch?! It might almost appear so, if not for one errant giggle that escapes being muffled when Ilicaeth's wings wiggle in his own show of humor, the blue arching his neck almost playfully, his gaze wheeling a double-timed march. Finally, she pulls away from her blue, and turns back to the former Smith, giving him a raucous and toothy grin...which Ilicaeth immediately tries to imitate. Alida's expression looks correct for what she's trying to imply, but the blue's... well, let's say he looks more fierce than anything. "Care ta test that little theory when we get ta' self-defense classes, sugarbeet?" Wink. "Gotta try harder'n *that*." Unlike Waki, Alida's feeling more humor at this point than irritation. To K'del and his next words are murmured, "She can keep it." And then she's quieting again, purposely silencing herself to observe the interaction between the remaining two humans outside of herself, the weyrling finally standing and snapping another crisp salute to the departing bronzerider. "You too." K'zin offers meaningfully to the bronzerider. Once he's hurried off, however. Frustration reflects in both human and dragon at the departure. The feeling lingers in their expressions only for a few moments. Alida's words provide distraction enough, and K'zin's lips twist into a lop-sided grin, "Nah. I'm good. But you're welcome to try with Sabella and I to make them let us keep our hair. Don't know how well it'll go over, but we're going to try. Sabella might even agree to cut yours if we lose the battle, so it doesn't look like a weyrlingmaster hacked it up for you or that Ilicaeth chewed it off or some such." His tone has good humor in it again and the offer is genuine. It's only once K'del and Cadejoth are truly gone that Alida turns back to K'zin, and paces over to him, her expression gone a little neutral again until he shows some humor again. "You 'n me gotta sid'down together soon and share a mug uv klah. I'd rather go t'the Snowasis, but..." Smirk, eyeroll. No booze. As to word of Sabella being allowed to potentially cut her hair: "No thanks. I think that backstabby femme'd rather hack it up." "Oh, yeah!" K'zin's tone is obviously that of someone who's just remembered a forgotten fact he should've known. "You guys were going to kiss or kill each other, right?" He must be sleep-deprived if he couldn't even remember that! "Well, we can do that when the--" He tries to choose an appropriate word to describe both their lifemates at once, and just flounders. "Anyway, sometime when they're sleeping." He glances down to Ras, who's begun to twitch a little. "Iiiiii think I need to go oil him. He was holding out to talk to Cadejoth longer but his claws are itching. And his headknobs. And--" The weyrling sighs, looking to Alida, "You know how it goes." He doesn't need to explain. Then he's tossing her a lazy salute by way of farewell, before he and Ras head for the barracks. "Sounds good..." is murmured offhandedly, the woman then nodding heartily and tossing her eyes skyward. "You do *not* have ta' tell me..." of itchy dragons, her gaze then flicking to the approaching Ilicaeth, who snorts at something unsaid. Instead of a returned salute, the blonde attempts to lightly whap the departing Waki on his ass, a rough chuckle and wink lent to him. Don't only guys do that thing? "Later." The blow finds home, and a surprise gives way to confusion as K'zin looks over his shoulder, but the itches are too pressing to stop and ask questions, so off he goes. |
Comments
Azaylia (Dragonshy (talk)) left a comment on Wed, 20 Mar 2013 20:38:34 GMT.
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Baby dragons interacting? Fantastic. Baby dragons interacting with Cadejoth? Squeal city. XD Cute, sometimes not, but all amusing and great to read.
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