The red-scaled dragoness hadn't made it more than a block from the tavern before she heard the sound of hoofbeats on the sandstone pavement behind her. Here on the coast in the land of mountainous jungle, horses were not terribly common. Beasts of burden were usually raptors or huge oxen, with the carriages usually being some sort of rickshaw. The flying overlords of the city were barely more than stomachs with wings, which didn't leave a lot of acceptance for juicy horseflesh to be "wasted" for riding.

After dropping the idiot drunk in the tavern, Drache was immediately suspicious that she was being followed by him or his friends, and the flicker of anxiety that made her flat belly clench and her tail stiffen seemed to be realized when Aussir's voice called out to her. Turning sharply, the crimson beauty raised her wings aggressively, letting the long phalanges flare as her tail lashed back and forth.

[color=ed1c24]"What's it to you, [i]tzaraf[/i]--..."[/color] The crude insult she half-spat from her bared fangs died on her lips as she realized who was approaching her. The combination of her bewilderment at seeing the male who had fled so rapidly earlier in the night and the fact that he was riding a horse was almost enough to keep her from noticing that he had mispronounced her name.

[color=ed1c24]"Uh...It's Drachiathoryx actually,"[/color] she corrected him. Her tail curled over where it was held up behind her back in the shape of a question mark, her wings shrinking even as her ear-frills flared out with her interest, her refined snout tilting up to face him.

The white and blue dragonkin was tall and fit, two attributes that Drache appreciated, but he seemed nervous and even shifty, which put her on her guard. But she was willing to give him a chance to talk, in no hurry to be anywhere and possibly more forgiving than usual when it came to handsome half-dragons. But her tolerance began to wane as soon as he mentioned her bag. She clutched it tightly, protectively. [color=ed1c24]"I was. And I assure you that I'm more than capable of taking care of my own things. I carried far more for far greater a distance than across the city."[/color]

It was true that the dragoness had a decent amount of rum under her belt, but not enough to stand and be insulted but a mercenary with lovely wings. Her lip lifted to bare her teeth more and more with every word, growing angrier with each passing second.

[color=ed1c24]"In any [i]'condition'[/i]?"[/color] she repeated, incensed by the implication that she was not fit to take care of herself. [i]How disrespectful![/i] There was a throaty growl shuddering through the air between them and Drache's amber eyes gleamed with indignant rage.

[color=ed1c24]"How [i]dare[/i] you! Who [i]are[/i] you? You ran out of the tavern like a scared rat before I'd even said two words to you and now you're back to insult me for having a few drinks? And then offer to share a tent with me in the middle of the city? What kind of female do you think I am? What could you possibly hope to accompl.."[/color]

She was well into her tirade now, and more than one hot spark flew from her maw as she hissed her words at Aussir, not caring if her feral mannerisms might spook his horse. But all of a sudden she stopped in the middle of a word, nearly bristling in silence with how angry she had let herself become. But her spiral horns tilted and she peered up at the white drake.

[color=ed1c24]"Wait."[/color] She lifted her hand and rubbed her snout. [color=ed1c24]"You...you were trying to [color=ed1c24]flirt[/color] with me just now, weren't you?"[/color] It wasn't really a question, more of a realization that she was voicing as it occured to her. [color=ed1c24]"I take it you haven't done it much. If I might make a suggestion, why don't we find a place to talk before you start inviting me into your tent, hmm?"[/color]

Her voice had been ferocious a moment ago, and a furnace-like heat billowed from her in a way that just had to be magical, but now it faded, the glare in her eyes replaced by something a bit more amused or even impish. A tentative smile coiled across her lips, amused both by Aussir's awkward reintroduction and her own merciless reaction.