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05-20-2017, 10:12 PM
amaris
dragonborn
The battle of the golds seemed to have evolved into a battle of lust, bloodlust and otherlust besides. Dramyrth, at first thrilled with the surprise of the queen's change of tact, soon began accepting it with ease - for of course she would come to his way of thinking, of course she would see reason, of course she would accept him as his equal, even if that wasn't exactly what she was doing, it was a lot closer than the abject hostility she conveyed earlier. He caws a raucous laughter as the bloodied corpse departs from its head, diving with the queen to follow it to the ground, flying as closer as he dared to her great sinewy mass, barely able to contain the heat within him, wondering, hoping, praying that Vadir was feeling similar tidings, a similar rush of lust and desire, cravings for more closeness, for a demonstration of just how far the carnal urges could take them.
Dining together was perhaps an excellent first step towards all that - Dramyrth was not so foolish to think he could successfully bed her without going through whatever ritual she deigned to put him through, that he had gotten this far, he knew, was an achievement in and of itself, and he wasn't about to decline her generous offer. She took the first bite, as she was entitled to do, and he landed alongside her, close, wanting to feel her, to absently embrace her with the folds of his nearest wing, to casually entwine his tail with hers as they bent over this meal. He feasts upon the avian flesh, not because he is hungry for meat, but because he is hungry for her, but he knows he cannot feast upon her in that way yet, so he fills up on the vulture instead.
Amaris, having sensed echoes of such urges from Dramyrth before, but never quite this close or poignant, did her best to observe the feelings that flooded their bond from afar, to watch and calculate and evaluate how best to manage them. The dragonmare, filled with her own gratitude from everything that had happened today, was more familiar with the feelings of bloodlust than true lust, and so rode her bonded's determination to feast upon the flesh of the bird as a way to vent the otherwise overwhelming feelings; if anything, from the entire situation, the dragonmare simply felt like a hunt for meat on their way home (something she usually avoided doing for as long as possible, having grown more and more disgusted by her own body's desire for flesh and blood the older she got), though had she and Volterra been in a more private setting, with the mood set more definitively by hormones and seasons, perhaps the results would have been different.
The curve of the smile upon her lips deepened as the Sultan translated his bonded's gratitude, and she proffered a wink to the red dragon, genuinely fond of him, perfectly aware that even as a red, he was as able and dangerous as her beloved (though had he been less distracted, he might have interjected her thoughts, however consumed by all the different kinds of lust that he was currently, such objections remained unvoiced). Volterra spoke as he often did then, offering a jest that was laced with a deeper truth; an offer to return to the Throat, to turn her back upon the Edge and live upon the desert sands with him, alongside him - but as what? She had done that before, she had held a rank here before, and she had become overwhelmed by it swiftly. While the dragonmare did appreciate the offer he made, and knew it was given with sincerity, she could not accept it - not today, anyway.
"Until next time," was all she said in response, bowing her head to him as she spread her wings and ushered movement from her slender, strong limbs. A sharp mental note is sent to her bonded, announcing that yes, they were leaving now and no, he cannot linger behind without her until the vulture has been consumed, and yes she really is serious; Dramyrth reluctantly farewells his queen with a long song, rising from the sands with feathers still caught in his teeth, flying towards his beloved with a full belly but a throbbing desire to ignore her summons and remain. I like the Throat, he offered some time later, and the dragonmare could only laugh, her voice stolen by the wind, as they made their way home again.
ooc:
Amaris out, thanks so much Snow <33
Dining together was perhaps an excellent first step towards all that - Dramyrth was not so foolish to think he could successfully bed her without going through whatever ritual she deigned to put him through, that he had gotten this far, he knew, was an achievement in and of itself, and he wasn't about to decline her generous offer. She took the first bite, as she was entitled to do, and he landed alongside her, close, wanting to feel her, to absently embrace her with the folds of his nearest wing, to casually entwine his tail with hers as they bent over this meal. He feasts upon the avian flesh, not because he is hungry for meat, but because he is hungry for her, but he knows he cannot feast upon her in that way yet, so he fills up on the vulture instead.
Amaris, having sensed echoes of such urges from Dramyrth before, but never quite this close or poignant, did her best to observe the feelings that flooded their bond from afar, to watch and calculate and evaluate how best to manage them. The dragonmare, filled with her own gratitude from everything that had happened today, was more familiar with the feelings of bloodlust than true lust, and so rode her bonded's determination to feast upon the flesh of the bird as a way to vent the otherwise overwhelming feelings; if anything, from the entire situation, the dragonmare simply felt like a hunt for meat on their way home (something she usually avoided doing for as long as possible, having grown more and more disgusted by her own body's desire for flesh and blood the older she got), though had she and Volterra been in a more private setting, with the mood set more definitively by hormones and seasons, perhaps the results would have been different.
The curve of the smile upon her lips deepened as the Sultan translated his bonded's gratitude, and she proffered a wink to the red dragon, genuinely fond of him, perfectly aware that even as a red, he was as able and dangerous as her beloved (though had he been less distracted, he might have interjected her thoughts, however consumed by all the different kinds of lust that he was currently, such objections remained unvoiced). Volterra spoke as he often did then, offering a jest that was laced with a deeper truth; an offer to return to the Throat, to turn her back upon the Edge and live upon the desert sands with him, alongside him - but as what? She had done that before, she had held a rank here before, and she had become overwhelmed by it swiftly. While the dragonmare did appreciate the offer he made, and knew it was given with sincerity, she could not accept it - not today, anyway.
"Until next time," was all she said in response, bowing her head to him as she spread her wings and ushered movement from her slender, strong limbs. A sharp mental note is sent to her bonded, announcing that yes, they were leaving now and no, he cannot linger behind without her until the vulture has been consumed, and yes she really is serious; Dramyrth reluctantly farewells his queen with a long song, rising from the sands with feathers still caught in his teeth, flying towards his beloved with a full belly but a throbbing desire to ignore her summons and remain. I like the Throat, he offered some time later, and the dragonmare could only laugh, her voice stolen by the wind, as they made their way home again.
ooc:
Amaris out, thanks so much Snow <33
sky above me — earth below me
and fire within me
@Volterra
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~
