Evrath stirred from her couch as Ilina browsed through a hidebound book, legs crossed in a cushioned seat. When the green stirred once more, agitation rising in her half-woken mind, the rider sighed and set the book down. Autumn had come, and that meant a reawakening of Evrath's lust. How many times had they gone through this play by now? Stir, stir, wake, fly. Ilina made her way down to the Bowl.

By the time she'd set foot on the Weyrbowl's ground, Evrath had launched from her weyr's ledge and was in the middle of a dive for the herdbeast pens.
Evrath.
Hungry.
Don't slaughter a single beast.
Hungry.
You'll waste it. Don't.
The green snarled and turned skyward after narrowly missing the back of a beast. It would heal, if it didn't cause a stampede within the pens out of sheer terror. Ilina made her way through the Bowl and its contents toward the low-level mating weyrs. She let her weight fall to her shoulders and backside as she leaned against the petrous lining.

At least this time round, Ilina thought with a bark of laughter, she wasn't in the middle of her moon flow. She watched the sky, waiting to see what lonely dragon would decide to give chase.

Fellis, fellis...

Ah. There it was.

Normally, perhaps, B'rial would've sent Driel to retrieve it for him, but he wasn't in the mood for uncomfortable questions should the lizard be caught rummaging in the healer's stores. Easy enough to explain his own presence there, really, but it seemed lizards were exceptional at complicating things.

B'rial lifted a bundle of the plants - cut and bound by cord, ready for use when needed - and looked them over. Healthy, not yet starting to wilt...ideal, really. Now to figure out how to get them back to his weyr. The bundles were a little too large to be inconspicuous...

Thinking about his dilemma, B'rial didn't realize at first what the faint waves of feeling from Firaeth were. Soon, though, they became too prominent to ignore, and he recognized the rush of the dragon's lust as it came over him. Sighing, he dropped the fellis in his hand back onto the pile. Pity...he'd have to come back later.

Your timing is terrible, you know.
I didn't tell her to rise. And you can't expect me to ignore her.
Fair enough, fair enough...which is it?
Evrath.

B'rial's attention perked. Evrath...he recognized the name. And the rider. And he grinned.

Go on, go on, catch her, then.

Like rider, like dragon.

Firaeth didn't question why B'rial was suddenly pleased; he leaped from his ledge and into the sky, thoughts now focused only on his lust and his need for the green already soaring there, as B'rial made his way to the mating weyrs, pausing to glance up from the bowl as the blue soared higher and higher in chase.

Evrath swept from side to side in the air as she rocked back and forth in a beckoning, teasing manner. Firaeth would do just fine, and Evrath?

Evrath wanted nothing more than to be caught, and caught fast. The green's need was rising and becoming more and more urgent with every long wingstroke and even more, every quickened heartbeat. Nothing would be so grand as to be caught and flown, high and quick, frenzied and rough.
Evrath needed that blue more than she'd ever willingly express outside of a flight.

She called to him with a mental preen.
Firaeth, Evrath began in a lustful breath, Fly higher, find me in the clouds. I want to play a game – you should know it well.
You're it.

Firaeth let out a bellow that could be heard clearly from the ground below, maddened by the green's taunting voice, the way her elegant, lithe body swayed in the air. He had to have her. He would have her, and he wouldn't let her delay it with her games! A sweeping beat of his wings and the blue soared higher in chase, head craning side to side to find her.

B'rial reached the mating weyrs just as he was hit with a wave of lust so strong that, had he been a less experienced rider, may have made him unsteady on his feet. As it was he simply tugged at his shirt as he walked in to find Ilina already there, giving her a playful, roguish smile.

"Seems like they're enjoying themselves."

And the sight of her there was making him impatient to start his turn at it.

Evrath wove in the air, ducking low under the blue in pursuit. With a trilling warble, she called for his attention. Yes, it was time. No more games, she cooed. With a brush of her tail forks against Firaeth's underbelly, she let the blue take control for the remainder of the flight.

Ilina could feel herself fading away to the torrent of emotions. Her very nerves felt on fire as she clutched at B'rial's shoulder, nails biting into tender flesh. Had Evrath pined for this one? Everything was so intense this time. She moaned aloud, her voice rasping in pleasure. Mmm, what did it matter if the green had been wanting? Ilina herself could say much the same.

--

The rider let out a soft laugh at the joy of afterglow. With an unsteady hand, she shoved thick, sweat-laden hair out of her face and glanced to her bedmate. Would it be someone she recognized? Evrath had been keeping to Southern stock for months now – this one hadn't felt familiar.
She soon found why.
“Oh. You,” Ilina's laugh returned as she rooted for her clothing with casual care, “Dare I ask what you were doing when Firaeth gave chase?”

B'rial glanced up at the woman, making no move to get up himself, bedsheet pulled haphazardly over him - not that he cared about modesty. "What, disappointed?" He was grinning in that teasing way of his as he watched her, admiring her form. It wasn't as though, through the dragonlust, he'd had much chance to notice when they were...occupied.

"You didn't sound like it earlier." The man turned over slightly, sweat-damp dark hair falling around his face, clinging to his skin. "As for what I was doing...seeing a bit more of the Weyr. May have been born in Emon, but..." He stretched, adjusting to a more comfortable position, "doesn't mean I know my way around Equinox well enough yet."

Ilina snorted amusement, lacing the front of her breast banding. If she could ignore the obvious lies, she couldn't resist the bait of a man believing himself to be skilled.
“I'd enjoy a woman under dragonlust, blue rider. Don't think it was your doing.” She frowned. The band didn't quite feel right. While slipping on the rest of her undergarments, she met B'rial's roaming glance.
“This look right? Feels like the lining's bunching in back.”
You enjoy this.
Of course I do. He's a lech. Besides, I wasn't expected anywhere until watch later tonight. I've time to play. And it really doesn't feel normal.
Yes. However, there seems to be a plague of pregnancies amongst the folk as of late -
Don't push your luck, heart. I'd've rather had S'rus' get than this rogue's – and you'll recall that I took that hop between just as easily as I will this one. If there even is one.
Mmm, you are getting older. Aha. Evrath was in a joking mood, was she?
Says the greying green on my ledge.