The red hybrid had edged very close to the precipice, the wind sweeping upwards from where it had struck the hillside and was now toying with the golden membranes of her wings. The tingling buzz of the spicy drinks had faded long ago, leaving her hot with anger rather than smoldering with lazy glee. Clearly she was a heartbeat or two away from launching out into the night sky, heavy bag or no, and leaving this conflicting creature far behind. For the most part, it was only because she genuinely believed what she had said about their kind, that being on the same side was important.
She listened to him silently, the wind making her long black hair billow around her shoulders in tendrils, her tail undulating slowly behind her as her eyes smoldered at him in the dark. Twin plumes of black smoke, tattered signals of her frustration, blew away towards the greater depths of the garden.
Aussir's long diatribe was difficult to follow. He seemed embarrassed but desperate to be understood, yet she resented his trying to puzzle out her private thoughts, and his woeful pessimism was exhausting. In spite of his tall, attractive frame, he seemed almost child-like, and she was starting to wonder if all of this discomfort was simply due to a more isolated upbringing than she had experienced.
Her wings folded behind her one at a time and with an exasperated sigh Drache moved to join him on the bench, her hips swaying with a natural swagger until she sat down. It was hard to keep her hands to herself so she settled on picking at the flap to her bag.
"Aussir, you may not want my advice, but I'm going to give it to you anyways. I think you need to relax. In my experience, people don't like it when you play guessing games about their past, their feelings. It's suspicious. You can enjoy someone's company without..." She waggled her wing joints, struggling for the word that would describe what she wanted without seeming insulting, "...the theatrics."
Her eyes trailed along the line of his snout, his horns. He was yummy enough to nibble on! Why did he have to be so dramatic?
"Just because you've been a little irritating doesn't mean I would never want to talk to you again, Aussir. Our kind live too long to put those kind of absolutes on each other. And I'm sure I've acting more like a fireball more than I needed to, but I'd hope you wouldn't hold that against me." In spite of the wind off the sea, the female was very warm, much warmer than Aussir himself.
"Perhaps if you're ever interested you can hold something else against me." She winked at him then, but she knew by now that he wouldn't take her up on it and turned her attention to the bag, lifting the flap to pull out a glossy black orb. It looked like glass, or possibly obsidian. There were many obsidian quarries in the area due to the presence of the volcanic activity.
She held it up in her hand. It was almost big enough to need two hands to hold, but wasn't quite as heavy as it looked. "I found him in the Heartchamber of an abandoned temple," she explained, letting her claws click glassily against it.
"Wake up, Cinder," the dragoness crooned, her voice almost sensually low as she raised the orb to her snout, letting her hot breath wash over it. In an instant, the surface of the orb erupted in flickering orange flames. Not only that, but it lifted out of her hand, hovering of it's own accord as little plumes of fire coalesced into the vague shape of a tiny bipedal creature. White-hot pinpoints of light turned, the semblance of sleepy blinking as the creature stood on Drache's forearm.
The warmth rolling from the torchlike sprite was tangible, and the flickering tongues that came up from his head were buffeted by the wind around the orb that had become his head, but somehow Drache's clothing seemed unaffected.
"This is Cinder. He's a fire sprite (link). I think he chose to stick with me because I'm...well...I'm a Firespinner."
Cinder glanced around to see who Drache was talking to and upon seeing Aussir so near, jumped up to Drache's shoulder and hid partly behind her head, his fiery little hand clinging to one of her spiral horns as he peered around at the other dragonkin. Drache's ear-frill gave a flick, as though listening to someone talk that Aussir couldn't hear.
She listened to him silently, the wind making her long black hair billow around her shoulders in tendrils, her tail undulating slowly behind her as her eyes smoldered at him in the dark. Twin plumes of black smoke, tattered signals of her frustration, blew away towards the greater depths of the garden.
Aussir's long diatribe was difficult to follow. He seemed embarrassed but desperate to be understood, yet she resented his trying to puzzle out her private thoughts, and his woeful pessimism was exhausting. In spite of his tall, attractive frame, he seemed almost child-like, and she was starting to wonder if all of this discomfort was simply due to a more isolated upbringing than she had experienced.
Her wings folded behind her one at a time and with an exasperated sigh Drache moved to join him on the bench, her hips swaying with a natural swagger until she sat down. It was hard to keep her hands to herself so she settled on picking at the flap to her bag.
"Aussir, you may not want my advice, but I'm going to give it to you anyways. I think you need to relax. In my experience, people don't like it when you play guessing games about their past, their feelings. It's suspicious. You can enjoy someone's company without..." She waggled her wing joints, struggling for the word that would describe what she wanted without seeming insulting, "...the theatrics."
Her eyes trailed along the line of his snout, his horns. He was yummy enough to nibble on! Why did he have to be so dramatic?
"Just because you've been a little irritating doesn't mean I would never want to talk to you again, Aussir. Our kind live too long to put those kind of absolutes on each other. And I'm sure I've acting more like a fireball more than I needed to, but I'd hope you wouldn't hold that against me." In spite of the wind off the sea, the female was very warm, much warmer than Aussir himself.
"Perhaps if you're ever interested you can hold something else against me." She winked at him then, but she knew by now that he wouldn't take her up on it and turned her attention to the bag, lifting the flap to pull out a glossy black orb. It looked like glass, or possibly obsidian. There were many obsidian quarries in the area due to the presence of the volcanic activity.
She held it up in her hand. It was almost big enough to need two hands to hold, but wasn't quite as heavy as it looked. "I found him in the Heartchamber of an abandoned temple," she explained, letting her claws click glassily against it.
"Wake up, Cinder," the dragoness crooned, her voice almost sensually low as she raised the orb to her snout, letting her hot breath wash over it. In an instant, the surface of the orb erupted in flickering orange flames. Not only that, but it lifted out of her hand, hovering of it's own accord as little plumes of fire coalesced into the vague shape of a tiny bipedal creature. White-hot pinpoints of light turned, the semblance of sleepy blinking as the creature stood on Drache's forearm.
The warmth rolling from the torchlike sprite was tangible, and the flickering tongues that came up from his head were buffeted by the wind around the orb that had become his head, but somehow Drache's clothing seemed unaffected.
"This is Cinder. He's a fire sprite (link). I think he chose to stick with me because I'm...well...I'm a Firespinner."
Cinder glanced around to see who Drache was talking to and upon seeing Aussir so near, jumped up to Drache's shoulder and hid partly behind her head, his fiery little hand clinging to one of her spiral horns as he peered around at the other dragonkin. Drache's ear-frill gave a flick, as though listening to someone talk that Aussir couldn't hear.