Starting Date and Time: Jedayan 24th, 300DM, morning
Starting Location: Kerawac Valley
CS URLs: Drachiathoryx and GM
The random musical symphony of cricket-song in the grass of the valley slowly faded. When the sun rose the orchestra would be comprised of the buzzing drone of cicadas instead, but as the sky lightened to pink and then orange as the somewhat muted winter sun crested the distant horizon, there was a brief time of quiet.
It wasn't precisely the lack of noise that stirred the red-scaled beauty from her slumber, but more specifically the lack of background sounds that threw things closer at claw into sharper focus. Her nostrils twitched and her wings shifted slightly, but before she opened her eyes she knew that the fire outside the thin canvas of her tent had gone out. Not just by the smell of charcoals, but by the feel of the thing. The coals smoldered, but the hot hungry flicker was gone.
Eventually, she opened her eyes and glanced down her snout to the swath of ebon skin near her face. The morning light through the tent flap made Sirik's flesh nearly purple in hue, and Drachiathoryx couldn't help but consider that the colour of the Drow was a thing not meant to be seen under the bright light of the sun.
The drow was breathing softly in sleep, his lean but athletic torso bare, white hair tousled around his face. Drache realized that her tail was coiled loosely around his leg under a tangle of a quilted linen blanket. They had ended up in his tent this time, and the half-dragon's pupils widened and contracted as she glanced around at his belongings before leaning down, her face hovering inches from his.
There was a long pause in which Drache grinned slowly and Sirik did nothing but breathe.
"You know..." the dragoness purred softly, running her fingertips up his side, "I'd be completely fooled into thinking you were still asleep if I couldn't feel your pulse quicken."
His charade spoiled, the drow opened his violet eyes and gazed up, his expression a mix of annoyance and sheepishness. He lifted his hand and made the Drow sign for "Habit" and shrugged a little, his only attempt at an explanation.
Drache lifted herself up from their shared bedroll and slid one of her curvaceous legs over Sirik's hips and straddled him. She was practically naked, wearing little more than some jewelry and a necklace of fossilized ammonites and trilobites she and Laurel had picked up out of a dry creekbed the day before. They clicked stonily together and settled against Drache's generous and bare torso, swinging forward when she leaned down to lay flat on top of him, her chin propped up in her palm.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you wanted me to leave." She affected a false pout that Sirik saw right through.
"Good thing you know better," he replied, his palms running up her scaled thighs. Like most male drow he was smaller than the average woman, and even smaller than the shapely dragoness, but he didn't seem to mind.
The half-dragon growled salaciously and leaned down to nibble along Sirik's jaw until she could seize his lips, earning a groan or two for her efforts. The closeness and the heat was delicious, but both of them knew it was as fleeting as the dew on the grass just outside and would disappear just as quickly.
"I think we have some time before the others come to drag us out, don't you?" Her tone dripped with suggestion and she writhed a little. Sirik just grinned.
--
An hour or so later, Drachiathoryx and Laurel stood across from each other with the campfire between them, the rekindled blaze bright even in the daylight as the two Firespinners tried to control the flames. Drache had finally dressed in her traveling clothes, her pack sitting in the grass near Sirik's boots as the drow looked on with waning interest. Kraven stood well back, not wanting to be anywhere near the two non-human ladies and their pyromaniacal shenanigans.
Drache was testing her strength against Laurel's, not only controlling the blaze itself but trying to keep it away from the Alufiend. Between them, they had managed to twist it into fantastical shapes and strange colours, changing it until it fizzed white with sparks or boiled low and blue close to the ground. Fire was always special to the half-Ixen, but even Drache was finding out just how variable fire could be.
The hybrid looked fierce as she worked her magic, her clawed fingers curved and tight as though waiting to lash out against something physical, her wings partly-spread behind her, tail weaving slowly back and forth, reptilian face scowling and intent. Drache could feel it when her own strength waned. Laurel obviously had more practice than she did, and finally called it off.
"Tscha! That's enough. I feel I've flown a whole day and we haven't even gotten started this morning! Thanks for spinning with me, Laurel." She actually tried her sentence a couple of times, practicing Kvaren, though she got just about every word wrong.
The elementalists let the campfire die and started off together with Sirik and Kraven for the day's adventure.
Starting Location: Kerawac Valley
CS URLs: Drachiathoryx and GM
The random musical symphony of cricket-song in the grass of the valley slowly faded. When the sun rose the orchestra would be comprised of the buzzing drone of cicadas instead, but as the sky lightened to pink and then orange as the somewhat muted winter sun crested the distant horizon, there was a brief time of quiet.
It wasn't precisely the lack of noise that stirred the red-scaled beauty from her slumber, but more specifically the lack of background sounds that threw things closer at claw into sharper focus. Her nostrils twitched and her wings shifted slightly, but before she opened her eyes she knew that the fire outside the thin canvas of her tent had gone out. Not just by the smell of charcoals, but by the feel of the thing. The coals smoldered, but the hot hungry flicker was gone.
Eventually, she opened her eyes and glanced down her snout to the swath of ebon skin near her face. The morning light through the tent flap made Sirik's flesh nearly purple in hue, and Drachiathoryx couldn't help but consider that the colour of the Drow was a thing not meant to be seen under the bright light of the sun.
The drow was breathing softly in sleep, his lean but athletic torso bare, white hair tousled around his face. Drache realized that her tail was coiled loosely around his leg under a tangle of a quilted linen blanket. They had ended up in his tent this time, and the half-dragon's pupils widened and contracted as she glanced around at his belongings before leaning down, her face hovering inches from his.
There was a long pause in which Drache grinned slowly and Sirik did nothing but breathe.
"You know..." the dragoness purred softly, running her fingertips up his side, "I'd be completely fooled into thinking you were still asleep if I couldn't feel your pulse quicken."
His charade spoiled, the drow opened his violet eyes and gazed up, his expression a mix of annoyance and sheepishness. He lifted his hand and made the Drow sign for "Habit" and shrugged a little, his only attempt at an explanation.
Drache lifted herself up from their shared bedroll and slid one of her curvaceous legs over Sirik's hips and straddled him. She was practically naked, wearing little more than some jewelry and a necklace of fossilized ammonites and trilobites she and Laurel had picked up out of a dry creekbed the day before. They clicked stonily together and settled against Drache's generous and bare torso, swinging forward when she leaned down to lay flat on top of him, her chin propped up in her palm.
"If I didn't know better I'd think you wanted me to leave." She affected a false pout that Sirik saw right through.
"Good thing you know better," he replied, his palms running up her scaled thighs. Like most male drow he was smaller than the average woman, and even smaller than the shapely dragoness, but he didn't seem to mind.
The half-dragon growled salaciously and leaned down to nibble along Sirik's jaw until she could seize his lips, earning a groan or two for her efforts. The closeness and the heat was delicious, but both of them knew it was as fleeting as the dew on the grass just outside and would disappear just as quickly.
"I think we have some time before the others come to drag us out, don't you?" Her tone dripped with suggestion and she writhed a little. Sirik just grinned.
--
An hour or so later, Drachiathoryx and Laurel stood across from each other with the campfire between them, the rekindled blaze bright even in the daylight as the two Firespinners tried to control the flames. Drache had finally dressed in her traveling clothes, her pack sitting in the grass near Sirik's boots as the drow looked on with waning interest. Kraven stood well back, not wanting to be anywhere near the two non-human ladies and their pyromaniacal shenanigans.
Drache was testing her strength against Laurel's, not only controlling the blaze itself but trying to keep it away from the Alufiend. Between them, they had managed to twist it into fantastical shapes and strange colours, changing it until it fizzed white with sparks or boiled low and blue close to the ground. Fire was always special to the half-Ixen, but even Drache was finding out just how variable fire could be.
The hybrid looked fierce as she worked her magic, her clawed fingers curved and tight as though waiting to lash out against something physical, her wings partly-spread behind her, tail weaving slowly back and forth, reptilian face scowling and intent. Drache could feel it when her own strength waned. Laurel obviously had more practice than she did, and finally called it off.
"Tscha! That's enough. I feel I've flown a whole day and we haven't even gotten started this morning! Thanks for spinning with me, Laurel." She actually tried her sentence a couple of times, practicing Kvaren, though she got just about every word wrong.
The elementalists let the campfire die and started off together with Sirik and Kraven for the day's adventure.