Brave the crashing wave. (75.07.18) (Moo)

[Nicole]

Elora had thought that graduating would make her feel different, somehow - more grown up, like there was a harder line between the woman she had once been and the lady she was now. Things just seemed more complicated.

But she was a graduate now. And there were things to do: work more on her plan to travel, now feasible given her ability to fly; practicing with her own flight crew; just doing… things. On her own. As her own person. No family or things to tie her down.

(This was the normal spot in her train of thought where her mind would go to N'kio.)

(She tried to ignore it.)

(It didn't work. Again.)

You know… we could always visit them.
We haven't seen them since we met - it's been a while. I don't want to impose.
That's been your excuse for months.
And it's still a good one.
Just go. Maybe you'll feel better for it.

Elora glanced around the Bowl with a sigh, leaning back against Saphireth's DarkBlue hide. She toyed with the ends of her hair, absently braiding it.

She could go visit him. Say hi. Let him know she had graduated, since he hadn't been there. (She hadn't invited him.) Yell at him for not telling her about his family.

Even if she hadn't told him about her past, it wasn't like it would have affected their present. This did. Right? Just - it hurt. He hurt, the not knowing hurt. He wanted her, she knew that, but whether it was something more - how could she tell? She had never had to before. How?

Let's go.

Muscles flexed hard as she leapt up, pacing circles around her dragon. Saphireth stared at her for a moment, head tilted to the side and eyes whirling. And then Elora leapt up and was up on her back, no straps or saddle, and the Saphireth pushed herself up.

There was blackness, and cold, and then they were at Cliffside Sea Hold, hovering about the sea.

Don’t stay away too long, dragon-girl. You’ll be missed.

How long had it been? Two months? Three? Better late than never.

But the gnawing anxiousness in the pit of her stomach told her he might think different.

[Moo]

Metanath’s nictitating membranes flicked over his eyes in an attempt to clear his vision. No…it couldn’t be. He peered across the water from his perch on High Rock, wings held aloft in the wind eddies. He shifted his weight from his hind legs and his tail lashed about like a feline. It was just another DarkBlue, nothing special about this one. Right? Though it looked very young…

He began to fidget. Ahh…N’kio?

From his place on the deck of the Oria, further West of Cliffside than the docks, N’kio distinctly felt his dragon’s anxiety. He threw a net overboard and shielded his eyes as he turned to the highest point of Cliffside, though he could barely see the Black dragon from this distance. What’s got your tail in a knot?

In the blink of an eye, Metanath appeared on the deck beside his rider, his eyes spinning a violent blue-yellow.

“Shaffit, Metanath!”
“Get your wrinkly hide off!”
“Ohhh, no road!”
“Save the fish!”

Cries of protest were raised as the ship lurched sharply to the side, throwing crewmembers off-balance and loose fish back into the ocean.

He ignored all of them except one. No time, no time – N’kio, get on!

“Faranth alive,” he cursed. N’kio swung up without much ado, all apologetic smiles as his dragon pushed off the ship, away from the water, and blinked between to the fields above the docks. “Now what is it, you great beast? We’re not due for another ship for at least a few candlemarks”

With a great huff, Metanath bowed as his rider slid off his back. They’re here.

N’kio straightened. He could tell by his dragon’s tone exactly who he was mentioning. “Where are they?”

Portside of the Oria, over the ocean. They’re flying.

He leaned against the bulk of his dragon and breathed a sigh of relief. They had been gone a while.

“I was afraid they wouldn’t come back.”
Me too. Better late than never, though. At least now we can clear the air.
“Aye…I hope so. Should we wait here for them?”
Yes. Let them come to us.
“Alright.”

[Nicole]

We've been noticed.
I see that.
Should we go over and-
Stay in the air for a second. We've never flown over the ocean before.
It's hard, cause of the currents. But it feels...
Nice.
Yeah.

So they soared above the ocean for a few minutes, not caring if they were a distraction to the Hold nearby. It smelled of brine and sun, and Elora and Saphireth both found themselves smiling.

But after a few minutes, the giant black dragon and his smaller, red-headed Rider on the Cliffs could be ignored no longer.

Shall I go up there?
Do you remember where we sat? You could dangle your legs over the cliffs and see the oceans below. It's a little behind where they are now.

Saphireth thought about betweening to there, but settled on coasting instead, pushing up higher and soaring over to where the pair sat - and past them, landing with her claws firmly against the ground behind Metanath. Elora slipped off her back and, faking calm the best she could, wandered over to said cliffside and plopped herself against the ground, legs dangling over to hit the rocks.

Even though the ocean was far below her, she could still feel its spray against her skin. She pulled her legs back up and began unlacing her boots.

Dragon and rider both waited for the other pair to make the next move.

[Moo]

As Elora and Saphireth landed nearby, N’kio averted his gaze as the pair walked toward the edge of the cliff to sit down.

Metanath, however, seemed more than content to be the eyes of this operation, and watched Saphireth with intent. I believe they’re waiting for us to approach them. He tapped his rider with his blunt nose. Do you know what you would like to say to her?

N’kio looked over his shoulder when he felt the nudge.

Not a wit. They’ve graduated now, right?
Yes, I believe so. They flew here by themselves, after all, without a saddle.
Hmm.

Metanath tapped N’kio with his nose again, prodding his reluctant rider forward. Well, come on. We both know the other is here. Let’s not make this harder than it should be. Just start with hello.

A hand on the Black’s shoulder, N'kio took slow, meandering steps toward the cliff’s edge, already sizing up a spot next to her where he could sit. She was preoccupied with unlacing her boots, and it seemed the perfect time to make his move. He took in a quick, nervous breath, ran a hand through his salt-curled hair, and resigned himself to whatever was to happen. He sat down quietly and positioned himself right next to Elora, his back hunched over his legs. He looked to his side, to Elora’s face, and tried to study her expression.

“You flew in nicely,” he started, grasping at anything for a conversation. “I'm glad you two are okay. You've been missed.”

[Nicole]

You've been missed.

She'd been worried she hadn't been. She shifted her knee to hide the smile on her face, pulling at the laces of her boots. Tugging the first off, she placed it to the right of her.

"I would hope we flew in nicely. Else we wouldn't have deserved to graduate."

She switched to the other boot, nimble fingers quickly working their way down the line.

Are you going to punch him in the face?
Why would I-
You said you wanted to.

She tugged off the second boot and glanced up at him, reaching behind her to tug her hair out of its ponytail. It sprung free and curled around her face in a bronze halo.

Yeah, well, I might have been wrong about that.
You're still irritated. I can feel it.
Yeah.
But not as irritated as you were.
I'm beginning to think there are better things in life.
Picking up on some of my good habits.

Elora's eyes flickered over to the DarkBlue dragon she could barely see, resisting the urge to roll them.

Go flirt with Metanath.

Saphireth's eyes whirled, and Elora shoved out the string of protests that erupted from the DarkBlue's mind. Hair and feet both successfully freed, she swung back to the side and dangled her legs over the cliffs.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?"

She felt like she should say more. Or less. Or nothing at all. Or everything. Too much. Too little. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake. Didn't feel like it, though.

[Moo]

He watched Elora as she unlaced her boots and freed her hair – he didn’t want to look away for fear of finding out this was imaginary. There was still a part of him that couldn’t believe she was here – talking to him – and he didn’t want to bet on that runner. A part of him wanted to be wary and cautious, but he couldn’t help but feel at ease next to her again. She had always had that way about her.

He ran a hand over his beard to hide the smile tugging on his lips as she spoke.

“Aye, it has. But I get it, I think. You needed your space. You needed time.” He shrugged his shoulders and briefly focused on the ocean.

“We both did. But I’m glad you’ve decided to visit. I was hoping you wouldn’t be scared away.”

Behind the pair, away from the cliff's edge, Metanath paced back and forth in the grass. Usually his rider's emotions didn't affect him too much, but today he was picking up on his nerves. He didn't like it. Circling twice, he sat down on his haunches and continued to eavesdrop on the conversation, kneading little furrows in the ground with his claws.

N'kio rubbed the back of his neck and turned to Elora again. “I should have told you about them, I suppose. Isbel and the girls. But I just…I didn’t know how far you and I would want to take this. I thought it would have been better to let sleeping dragons lie. I didn’t want to put any pressure on you or, or my girls, and it…didn’t turn out that way at all. I’m sorry about how it all happened. I would’ve liked to explain it to you some other way. Does that make sense?”

[Nicole]

It made sense.

"I wasn't scared away." That wasn't quite true. She had been worried, after she got back to the Weyr, that he wanted something different than what she had to offer. Worried wasn't scared. Right? "I just… it was a surprise."

Surprise meeting them, anyway. Metanath's slip-up earlier - they weren't stupid; they could put two and two together. But she hadn't wanted to believe it. Or deal with it like this.

Things used to be much easier.

"And yeah, I was angry about it."

She still wanted to be angry at him, to yell at him and scream at him and rage until he was either yelling back or an apologetic puddle. Because that was easy. Anger was easy. Easy to hide behind, easy to use, easy to understand. You didn't like something, so you got angry. Stayed angry until that thing was fixed or you walked away angry.

She wanted to be the wildcat that needed to be soothed, that could snap in a heartbeat and lash out only to return to normal and be loved again. (If this was love. She couldn't think of that. That was far outside her realm of thinking, of what she wanted to think of right now; caring was what they would stick with.)

But this wasn't an angry that could be fixed. And she didn't want to walk away.

And while part of her wanted to hit him in the face, most of her just… didn't. The anger was there. It had just quieted down, taken a backseat while her other emotions played havoc with her system. And now she had to decide what was more important: her anger or those other emotions.

Maybe she had already decided. She was here, after all, even if it had been Saphireth's idea. An impulsive decision, but… she didn't have to get on her back. Hadn't had to come here. But she did. And now she was sitting next to the source of all of her pr-no, that was a lie. He stirred the pot, but she might have been mad at him for not telling no matter what.

And his reasons made sense.

She looked out at the ocean in front of her, watched the waves crash and roll into each other, and wondered if that's what was going to happen to them: if they would crash and merge or if they would just… fall apart. Slide into the ocean or break on the shore.

"I'm going to say something, and I'm going to ask you not to say anything until I'm done. And I won't have to say when I'm done; trust me, you'll know it. Just… hold on a minute, okay?"

Behind her, Saphireth turned her head, eyes whirling softly. The DarkBlue tilted her head to the side, eyes completely focused on the back of her Rider. And all thoughts of talking to Metanath disappeared as Elora tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

And voice soft, somewhere between a whisper and a normal conversational tone, she threw caution to the wind and began to speak.

"I can't have kids."

The soft shush of the ocean in the background rolled over her words. But she kept her legs swinging over the cliff, the sea reaching up to grab her ankles before crashing back into foam.

"There's a certain combination of herbs - common and innocent enough on their own, but together they create some sort of… I don't know what to call it. But it destroys any potential for me having children. I still bleed like every other woman, and it doesn’t disrupt me in any other way."

The spray from far below arched up the ankles, the water cool against her skin.

"I don't want kids. Never did. Never will. Yours are cute, don't get me wrong, but - I'm not mother material by any sorts. And I'm okay with that. And those herbs keep me from becoming something I don't want to be."

It was almost funny, to her, how much of her life she spent chasing the kind of person she wanted to be, running from the kind she didn't want to be. Lately it had been different. She had just been her. Her and Saphireth, and doing what she wanted to do. She had stopped worrying about what people thought.

Most people. She still cared about him. Which, really, was more frustrating than anything.

She had run from that.

She laughed softly to herself, leaning down to look at her ankles with a tight smile. She wiggled her toes up at her.

"I still have them. Take them if I'm ever suspicious that I might risk getting pregnant on any particular day, even though I know I've taken enough that I never will. But I had to take them daily for so long that it's a habit by now."

She could sense Saphireth raise her head up higher, knew her eyes were whirling, could sense her dragon's alarm.

"I shouldn't be judging you for your past when I didn't tell you about mine, and I've been rationalizing it by telling myself that I put mine behind me while yours still visits you every other weekend. But I was irritated at you for not telling me, not for it still being there. And that wasn't fair to you. I should have just talked to you, stayed after Noila and Aela left and just… talked. But I didn't know how. And I didn't know if you hadn't told me because you were afraid of my reaction or if you hadn't told me because you didn't care about me."

She still cared about his opinion. But if he couldn't deal with this, he could go drown himself in his sea.

"I still don't know which one it is, but I know I care about you. And if anything is going to happen between us, you deserve to know my past, the same way I deserved to know yours."

Elora, are you sure-

"N'kio, I was a prostitute. Whore. Call girl. Escort. Whatever you want to call me. Escort's probably the most accurate, considering that I was not cheap and was most certainly in the upper ranks of wherever I went, but… that's not important. Not to you, anyway. That was why I came to the Weyr. I didn't want to do it anymore, I liked dragons, and I wanted a fresh start. And then I met you. And now we're here. And that's my life. And you can think of it what you will."

She wanted to be mad. Being angry was easy. And this - this was hard.

And he could do with it what he would.

[Moo]

N’kio whistled a note to break the silence. He sensed Metanath had frozen up the same time he did, and for that brief moment all that could be heard was the crash of waves and distant trills of firelizards near the docks.

Who would have guessed?
Shells, not me, that’s for certain.
It would explain some of the rumors I heard…
What rumors?
Oh, from other sailors.
Hmm.

Conversation wise, N’kio recovered first. The topic wasn't as foreign to him as it should have been. He ran his hands through his hair and took stock of everything. “Well…okay. All right. Ehm…that’s not what I was expecting you to say, but that’s fine, too. Can we talk more about that? There are some things I’d like to know, if that’s good with you.”

Where to begin? Her prostitution work? The terms were simple enough. No matter what you called them: escort, prostitute, whore, they all did the same thing in his eyes, more or less. Well, it was simple enough from his perspective as a guy. Then there was the fact that she brought up their relationship; that would sort itself out in time. It really depended on what she wanted and how long she was sticking around the Weyr, if she was at all.

As far as the fact that she took herbs to keep from getting pregnant, well, that was really no business of his. It had never actually occurred to him how women dealt with that; he always assumed they’d just hop a green or blue between and take care of business that way.

His thoughts came out in a flurry of questions. “So where exactly did you ply your trade? I think I remember you said you didn’t live near the sea, right? How did you even get started in that? How did your parents take the news?”

That’s not really your place to ask about her history like that.
She’s the one who brought it up first. I'm curious.
One thing at a time. It's big news still.

“Now, if you’re wondering, I’m not in any good place to judge you. There have been times…older times, I should add…where I’ve paid for some shore leave.” His smirk ghosted over his lips. “I don’t know whether it’s the Rider lifestyle, with the looser relationships from Flights, or the fact that I’ve lived among sailors all my life, but prostitution is something that’s…not entirely frowned upon here. It’s just never spoken about in Hold-side conversation.”

He laughed to himself. “Now dock-side? That’s a whole other story.”

Then, he shifted in his seat to face her squarely on. “But about children…to be perfectly honest, I’m not expecting anything like that from you. I already have two little ankle-biters of my own. I don’t think I could handle any more, and I wouldn’t want any more. Besides, Metanath’s as much company as any person, child or not - though he’s more of a messy eater.”

The Black gave him a derisive snort, which he ignored.

Almost as an afterthought, though it was on the forefront of his mind the entire time, he added, “Now…I’ve heard there are some rumors down below on the docks. About you. Just some talk from the fishers and tradesmen that they’ve seen you around here before. Did you ever work here at Cliffside before? Or nearby?”

He was hardly one to get jealous, but the idea that Elora was here at Cliffside before he even noticed her was a bit….well, vexing. He didn’t remember all of the women he slept with, including the ones he paid a fair amount of marks for, so the idea that Elora might have been among them was troubling to say the least.

Have anything for me?
You’re on your own there. I pay as little attention to your sleeping habits as you do the northern Weyrs.
Which is, to say, not at all?
Precisely.

[Nicole]

It was the low whistle, echoing across the rocks of the cliffside, that had Elora sagging backwards in slight relief, not having realized that she had been keeping her back so straight to begin with.

He wasn't angry. Wasn't yelling, wasn't pulling away. Wasn't mocking her. He was thinking, and that was better than any of the alternatives.

You don't have to explain yourself to him, you know.

Saphireth wandered away from Metanath's side, perching herself precariously on the corner of the cliff next to Elora. Her claws hooked ivory white over the side, leaving scratches in the rock. Her tail curled around not to balance herself, but to lie the tip right next to Elora's thigh, the only comfort she could offer. Her Rider rested a hand on it, scratching Saphireth's hide affectionately.

I know, my love. I know.

Will you - I don't know - answer questions? What do people do in situations like this?

I don't know. I know I will answer what I can the best I can. And then I will remind him that I am still angry with him for not telling me, even though I did the same thing.

You were right, though. Your history doesn't visit you every other weekend.

Some would if I let them.

Her conversation with Saphireth ended abruptly as N'kio began to talk again, his tone as conversationally light as he could manage. Which wasn't much.

“So where exactly did you ply your trade? I think I remember you said you didn’t live near the sea, right? How did you even get started in that? How did your parents take the news?”

Elora opened her mouth to answer, but he kept talking, telling of his own use of her - well, not colleagues, but those in the same trade as her. And she slowly closed it.

Did he want answers? She wasn't sure if the questions were sincere, or if he was asking questions to keep the noise going so that he could fill the void, to keep her busy until he could get over his surprise.

So she turned her gaze away from him again and looked at the ocean rolling in, letting it soothe her now-frayed nerves.

“Now…I’ve heard there are some rumors down below on the docks. About you. Just some talk from the fishers and tradesmen that they’ve seen you around here before. Did you ever work here at Cliffside before? Or nearby?”

And then her nerves disappeared entirely, and she covered her mouth to hide her smile. One giggle escaped, and then two. And then she buried her mouth under her hands, eyes glittering, to try to hide her amusement.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment and pulled her hands down, revealing the smile splitting her face. "As to those rumors, those are either secondhand stories or lies. I've visited here a few times, but I'll be honest, it would probably take a year of a sailor's salary to earn an hour with me, never mind a night."

She tried to hide the grin on her face as the ocean roared underneath her, but she just couldn't. Eyes gleamed as she reached up to scratch the back of her neck, hair tumbling towards N'kio as she moved.

"If you want answers to the other questions - I plyed my trade after I discovered I liked sex and was good at it. Practiced with a few boys in town, became great at it, and moved out under my parent's heavy disapproval. Lived in a few different places depending on which lord holders - or lady holders - or anybody wealthy, really - decided that they liked my talents and wanted me nearby. Does that answer your questions?"

She finally managed to push her lips shut, but they still twitched to the side in a flirtatious smile.

[Moo]

A bashful grin made its way to N’kio’s face as Elora explained the details of her past.

“And to think…all I had to do to get your attention was to pretend to be lost. Well, that, and the fact that Metanath needed to be oiled helped, too. That was an interesting day to say the least. I'm glad we didn't bother you too much. As you said, it would’ve taken me at least a turn of my salary to, ahh…afford your prices. Not that I'd try an' attempt a thing so infirm as to catch your eye.”

He noticed her flirtatious expression and his grin threatened to become as devious as hers. With what restraint he had left, he turned to watch the ocean and tried not to stare more than was polite.

(They were still getting over a fight, after all.)

“Still, I’d like to think it might be worth it, if the scuttlebutt is correct this time. Which is usually is, mostly. But I’m glad I got to know you this way first. Otherwise we'd still be strangers, and I'd be out of pocket, and that's no fun at all.”

Absently, he ran his fingers up and down her side. “I'm impressed you’ve kept it hidden so well. I'd imagine most people would hear abut that sort of thing. Was it difficult at the Weyr? Does anyone else know about your past here or in the Weyr, or am I the only one you've told so far?”

He wasn’t sure whether to ask the other question on his mind: if she still practiced her trade. He hesitated, and decided to wait to hear her next responses before asking. That could complicate a lot of things very quickly, particularly here at Cliffside. Sailors were nothing if not gossips, and talk like that spread faster than a fire.

When Saphireth wandered away, Metanath sighed deeply and appeared to deflate on the grass behind the triad. Eyes speckled with blues and greens, he peered over at her before accepting the fact that she had other things on her mind. That was…okay. He turned his gaze to the docks, more out of habit than anything else, but this time noticed something felt…off. He shifted his shoulders once. Then twice. Blinked.

Extending his wings, Metanath turned his head and looked over the thin membranes. The color in his eyes slowly turned pale yellow.

I hate to interrupt…but I feel itchy. I will need oiling again. Sooner rather than later, if you please, he announced to N'kio and Elora.

[Nicole]

Otherwise we'd still be strangers, and I'd be out of pocket, and that's no fun at all.

There was no need on her part to correct him, to tell him that it would have been plenty of fun for her at the end of the night - and that he would have had plenty of fun, too, and wouldn't have regretted a thing. He'd find that out on his own, in time.

And then his fingers were brushing against her side, and she forced herself to turn her gaze from his smiling face and keep it fixated on the ocean. But it didn't keep her mind from wondering, quickly, about what else his fingers could be brushing against, and it was only the sharp reprimand from Saphireth that kept her mind from wandering in that direction.

“I'm impressed you’ve kept it hidden so well. I'd imagine most people would hear abut that sort of thing. Was it difficult at the Weyr? Does anyone else know about your past here or in the Weyr, or am I the only one you've told so far?”

Elora ran a hand over her hair, curling the strands next to her face around her finger before settling her hands on her lap. "I'm surprised you're only founding out now. It's common knowledge, though nobody talks about it there anymore; more shocking to them when I first arrived. Now it doesn't matter, thankfully."

She wasn't going to go into the shaming when she had first arrived there, how she had kept her chin up and pushed through, how she had been ignored and disliked until Saphireth came along. He didn't need to know that bit. That was part of her past that was decidedly unimportant.

They still don't like you. They only like me.

If it hadn't been N'kio's fingers resting against hers, despite the teasing tone and the whirling of her eyes, Elora might have tried to push Saphireth into the ocean. (It wouldn't have worked. She was a very large dragon and Elora a very small human. But still, the attempt would have been hilarious.)

And then Metanath announced he was itchy, and Elora turned her head towards him to raise an eyebrow. "I'm not massaging you this time."

I'm the only dragon who gets that now.

[Moo]

Metanath’s eyes spun as he met Elora’s gaze. He gurgled placidly in his throat and shook his head.

Oh, no, I meant nothing of the sort. I just wanted you to know where I’d be taking N’kio and why I was interrupting.

N’kio used the opportunity to get to his feet, only a bit upset he had to leave Elora’s side. But, he knew his cue when he heard it, and beautiful woman or not - Metanath always came first. Once he was up, he stretched his arms and looked soberly down at her. “All his gear is back at my place, an’ I know he’ll keep at it until I go there.” He motioned past the central square, up along the hillside that sheltered most of Cliffside’s homes.

“At this time of day, it’s best I go before it gets worse. First it’s the itching, then the burning, and cracking if we go between enough – so I’d like to avoid that.”

I’d like that as well, Metanath agreed, holding his wings out for inspection.

N’kio moved to examine his wing membranes, running his hands along them with care. While he worked, he asked over his shoulder, “Do you…do you want to come along?” He walked to the other side of Metanath and examined his hide in a similar fashion. “Or are you and Saphireth staying here?”

Once he was satisfied with his estimate of work, he patted Metanath on his flank and stepped away. Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned his head toward Elora and her dragon. “This oiling shouldn’t take very long, but he’ll need to stay out of the sun for a while, so…I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come along and keep talking about…everything, really.”

Closing his wings up, he held them tight against his body and looked to the hill. I will meet you up there, N’kio?

He nodded, waiting for a response before he left. “Aye, go on with you.”

[Nicole]

It dawned on her that if she wanted to walk away, right now, she could. She could tell him and run off and never return.

And what would that lead to? She tried to picture it. Days of not thinking about what the weather was like at Cliffside Sea Hold and if N'kio was being rained on. Working on her own projects and flying around southern Pern. Returning to the Weyr only because Saphireth was about to Fly - and then when she rose, not being caught by quiet Metanath, but by one of the numerous dragons that Saphireth made no effort to talk to at all. A night she wouldn't remember with somebody she didn't care about. Eggs. And returning to southern Pern again.

No ties, except a small one to the Weyr. That was what she had dreamed of when coming here.

Funny how dreams change.

Especially given his willingness to drop everything and take care of Metanath. She liked that about him. Most Riders prioritized dragons, true, but their bond was something better. And she knew some Riders who would have asked their dragons to wait while they finished up something. He didn't.

And hell, any man who would walk away from her to take care of somebody he loved got extra points in her book.

Saph?
Mine?
I think I owe N'kio a ride.
I suppose that's okay.

Elora looked away from her red-headed sailor to her shimmering blue dragon, and with Saphireth's eyes whirling quickly, she let a smile slip across her face. She swung her legs around as Metanath began to walk towards the cliffside, scooping her boots up with one hand and lifting herself up on to her feet.

And barefoot and smiling, she moved to step in front of N'kio, tilting her head to the side. Bronze hair tumbled downwards, and she kept quiet for a few seconds too long, trying purposefully to make him anxious. Because he was cute when he fumbled, and she liked that.

"Yeah, I'll come. But it's too hot a day to walk. If Metanath doesn't mind - need a lift?"

And behind her, Saphireth dropped her jaw in a draconic grin.

[Moo]

Wait, wait, where was she going?

He followed her every movement as she retrieved her boots and walked away. Well, that wasn’t right. He could hear his heart beating in his chest. Did he say something wrong? His eyes wandered over her for any sign, any clue that he had missed – oh, but she kept her face hidden. Why wouldn’t she look up? It must have been something he did. She wasn’t still mad at him, was she? No, that couldn’t have been it - she said she had understood. His brow wrinkled with concern as he waited for an answer, his hands balled uselessly at his sides.

More silence.

He tried not to frown as she stepped in front of him and began to saunter off. Not even the sway of her hips – which he, admittedly, liked to watch when she walked away – could distract him now. He glanced at Metanath, who had paused his climb when he had picked up on his rider’s growing distress. What was she doing?

”Yeah, I’ll come. But it’s too hot a day to walk. If Metanath doesn’t mind – need a lift?”

N’kio laugh came out more as a bark. He raised a hand to his face before running it over his hair and down his neck. “Shells, girl, I was afrai – I thought you were, umm…” He shook his head when he realized it would sound ridiculous. Wiping his hands off on his pants, he started over, noticing then that Metanath had already resumed his walking.

“A ride? On – on Saphireth?” He looked to the DarkBlue dragon and back. “I’d say yes, but has she ever been ridden by more than one person?” He smiled, more to get his nerves out than anything else.

“I’d hate to break your dragon on the first go.”

[Nicole]

Elora's eyes glittered as he ran his hand over his hair, resisting the urge to giggle. Metanath wandering off in the background seemed to give his approval of the ride in his actions, and she glanced back at the DarkBlue as N'kio asked his question.

Saphireth straightened up, and Elora could have sworn she puffed out of her chest indignantly - though if she asked later, Saphireth would undoubtedly deny it. Break me?!

"You shouldn't have said that."

I could break you. I could - I could - get on my back.

Eyes narrowed and glaring at him, Saphireth twisted herself around to keep her head facing N'kio while her back faced him. She spread her wings out, tapping her tail impatiently against the ground.

The look on Elora's face - lips pursed tight, eyes opened just a little-too-innocently-wide - betrayed her amusement more than laughing ever could. She swept herself over to her dragon, leaping to her back in a moment, though she may have bent over a little farther than normal when getting comfortable.

(Might as well put on a show.)

"You comin', sailor-boy?"