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Date Posted: 01:00:48 03/06/05 Sun
Author: Chuth & T'gan
Subject: >~<
In reply to: Quilth and T'bel 's message, "I don't got the look, but I have got the touch!" on 20:47:19 03/04/05 Fri

((The ugly all-caps word is because Voy hates me. >_< HATES me, I say!))

Breaking out of the cloud, Chuth sees his queen already far ahead, and the sight spurs him to greater efforts. More of his energy is thrown into flight, and he powers ahead, holding back a little less, determined not to fall behind in this chase. The clear air barely holds Shrineth's scent for more than a few seconds, the intoxicating, heady smell of her falling away as soon as it rises from her hide, and he mourns the loss of that particular pleasure. But having her golden majesty in his view again tempers the sorrow, and it's quickly overtaken once again by burning desire and adoration, a longing deep in his heart and bones that can only be satisfied by the transcendent sun-bright beauty ahead of him. Slowly, inch by gradual inch, the earth-red bronze draws nearer, unwilling to commit everything just yet. To stop holding back would be an insult, not a compliment, to his queen, for he cannot afford to give everything until the flight is near its end. Though his wingmuscles are just beginning to feel uncomfortably warm, and he knows soon they'll be burning with the strain of the extended flight, it's not yet time to unleash the last spurt of stamina that will, if hope and luck win out, sustain him through his flight-weariness and allow him to prove himself worthy of the greatest queen ever seen in Pern's skies. Now Chuth moves slowly closer, her lovely form growing larger in his view, whirling red eyes fixed on her as if she's the only creature on Pern worth looking at. Right now, indeed, she's the only creature worth THINKING about. For all his certainty that Shrineth is not yet finished playing with her suitors, nothing prepares him for the next move she makes, and he watches in shock, mixed with admiration at her dramatic maneuver, as Shrineth dives towards the cresting waves. He prepares himself to follow; if his queen desires her pursuers to swim, than he will endeavour to outswim them all. But no, she skims along above the water instead, still close to the surface but not beneath it. By the time Shrineth warbles, taunting the males, Chuth has already pulled in his broad wings and streaked downwards, unfurling them at the last minute to pull up before he touches the tossing sea. The ocean is rough, and water leaps upward to lap at his belly, but his eyes and thoughts are on the glorious beauty before him, not the water below. The thrill of flying so low over the ocean, wingtips dipping into the water at each wingstroke, is subsumed into the far greater exhilaration of flying in pursuit of his beloved queen. On wild impulse, the bronze streaks upwards, exposing his underside to the sun in a bold loop and barrel-rolling three times as he curves back towards the surface of the ocean. The third barrel-roll is partially submersed, water whipped everywhere by his spinning body, and as he straightens out again his reddish hide is slightly darkened by the water clinging to it.

Consumed by his dragon's raging emotions, T'gan sways slightly on his feet, sea-green eyes glazed over and his vision doubled between the misty view of a beautiful woman and the far more real image of a golden dragon, striking against the grey-green sea. He leans slightly towards Wessae, taking a stumbling step as his body is left on its own to balance itself; then she snarls, and some part of him is in enough possession of his own limbs to step back in respect to her desires. She is the ruler here, and he only a slave bound by his dragon's love.

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