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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 19:44:36 GMT -5
The camp wheeled around him, bright tents and clothes dissolving into streaks of color interrupted by the flash of bold, bare skin and gleaming feline eyes. The ground was cool and hard beneath his feet, at the edge of the circle, but here it was warm with the heat of the fire and soft, churned by the imprint of the dancers' feet. Somewhere behind him, he could feel the brave giver reaching out and with a languid twist, he set himself out of reach once more, leaving the giver with a handful of fragrant air and flash of smooth, bare skin beneath the trailing arc of his wild red curls.
The giver growled and Ryir was gone once more into the circle of dancers, a small smile lifting the corners of full red lips. Such a fine giver, too, but it would never do to let him know that, of course. He could feel them watching and he wore the weight of their gazes like the finest silk, luxuriating in the feel of them against his skin; the air was heady with the scent of fire and hot against him, full of laughter and music. Tonight, as with all nights, they blazed bright against the night sky and he took a fierce joy in simply being part of it.
The firelight rippled across his skin and hair, turning him all to gold and shadows for a moment before, laughing, he yielded his place to another bearer, lovely, ephemeral Jysolin. Stepping out of the dance almost as effortlessly as he'd joined, he sauntered away, breath fluttering a few stray curls away from his face, eyes wide and bright with an almost feverish energy.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 19:55:48 GMT -5
Feathers rippling in the breeze created by his flight, Peeta flies above the Zercan's seeking out a mate. He had made friends with one of them, a timid giver with dual colored eyes, and had been asked to join them on their journey in seeking out their mate. Of course he agreed with the utmost respect. His cold, amber eyes now scanning the ground below him, he can see for miles.
Somewhere, ahead is a bright fire, and movement of bodies. Seems that the group won't be camping alone tonight. A charming smile brakes out on his facial features and he folds his wings in for a speed dive. Coming down fast to announce his findings...
About an hour later the long trek is over and the tired group comes to rest with the tribe of Reyls. Strange to Peeta why a species would separate themselves like this, but he pays not mind as the night's fun is still going on. Tonight he will enjoy himself, tomorrow he will mingle more, but he's sure he won't find his mate among these people. At least not the ones present.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 20:10:12 GMT -5
It was cooler here, away from the fire, but still warm enough among the press of bodies that the breeze ghosting across his bare skin felt wonderful. Murmurs rippled through the tribe, curiosity and interest, innocent or otherwise; Ryir canted his head to the side, lending an ear to the drawled announcement nearby.
Newcomers... It wasn't that unusual for Reyls to join their camp at night and seek the hospitality of a tribe. But these, it seemed, were most definitely not Reyls and with only a hazy thought for the company of the young bearers he'd been wandering towards, he turned to weave his way nimbly through the crowd. It couldn't hurt to find them and, maybe, tease them a bit. It wouldn't be as if he were the only one with such thoughts, he mused with another lazy smile, the expression lighting his eyes with a glint of mischief.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 20:25:41 GMT -5
Peeta so far has avoided being "played" with. The bearers here easily found a way to pry on James, the timid giver. But not the foreigner to even the world, he's been flirting with the ring of fire light, his dark wings casting cool shadows in the head.
Eyes surveying the area they land on a beauty. Red curls moving lightly in the small breeze and golden skin glistening from a thin layer of sweet he's sure. And its in that moment a possessive growl leaves him, reptilian and deep. And he knows he must have this bearer, he's going to have him.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 20:38:48 GMT -5
The breath left him in a slow, soft noise, and for a moment he could only stand still and stare through the thin screen of curls at the snarling stranger, bright eyes slitting slowly in a pleased expression at the snarl rolling through the air. The sound set goosebumps rolling down his arms and it wasn't until he felt a soft purr rising in his throat that he recovered enough to realize what was happening. This man, this stranger...his mate. Not a Zercan, nor a Reyl, but tall and slim with great wings curving away from his back.
Something in him wondered what it would feel like to rub against those feathers, or rub against something else entirely... and something else whispered with a hard, fierce pride, Mine.
His mate...but not a Reyl.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 20:51:26 GMT -5
Slipping around the circle now, Peeta heads towards the beauty. If only to be closer to him. To hear him, touch him, smell him. So many wants at once clashing together to create a storm in his mind, in his heart. Soon he's next to the Reyl and he looks him directly in the eye, waiting for the bearer to speak first.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 21:02:40 GMT -5
It was hard not to go to him when he began this way, and it was even harder not to reach out for him and act on all the urges twisting just beneath his skin. He had to look up to meet his giver's eyes, drowning in the warm amber, but only just and it was odd, to be nearly of a height with a giver when he was so used to standing well in the shadows of his hulking brothers.
Blanserta, it was hard to lift his chin and slant a look of slow consideration at the giver standing next to him, and it was only with an effort that his low, soft purr came out without the trembling eagerness he felt beneath the surge of wanting and possession," My name is Ryir."
It was wrong, he felt it almost as soon as he spoke, that he should say anything but a cry of welcome and longing, but it seemed the bottom of his world had fallen out beneath his feet and he had never before been so confused and suddenly he couldn't remember ever having wanted anything more or less than exactly this.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 21:19:49 GMT -5
Peeta regards Ryir as he said his name was. He seems... Lost is the correct word for the moment, but the Giver can deal with that. And a soft smile forms as he responds, "Peeta, its a pleasure to meet you Ryir." The other's name coming out in almost a reptilian purr when he spoke it. Stars! Did this ever feel right!
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 21:32:47 GMT -5
A slow flush of warmth spread through his belly at that purr and it was the thoughtless work of a moment to step closer, tipping his head back as he stopped just short of fitting himself against his giver's, Peeta's, side. His bare side brushed against the giver with a particularly deep breath as he loosed a soft, thrumming purr at the scent of him, eyes darkening with desire.
For years he had longed for a Reyl mate, or even a Zercan, big, strong, proven; dreams died hard, but this one slipped away with barely a whisper in its own defense and he moved closer, sliding his front against his mate's side in a slow, slinking step even as he brushed his fingers down along the man's closest arm in a silent offer.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 21:41:11 GMT -5
Peeta moves his own hand up to meet Ryir's. Sparks, a connection happens at their contact. And his other arm comes to wrap around the beauty's waist, holding him there, infront of him, "You're magnificent." His breath cooler than the air around then due to the fact he's basically part air dragonis along with feathered.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 21:53:42 GMT -5
Ryir lowered his head a moment, heavy curls spilling forward with the motion to hang down over his shoulders and across his chest, closing his eyes against the feel of him. Solid, right...his. Cool breath fanned across his cheeks, still almost fever warm from dancing, and he let his eyes flutter shut as he leaned into Peeta's chest; the praise softened him, made everything recede for a moment, even the hungry gazes of the givers lingering near, watching with the rest.
"Peeta," he murmured, rolling the name across his tongue slowly, savoring the sound of it before leaning up to put his mouth near his mate's and pausing there to offer him a heated look. Perhaps his mind was not entirely ready for this, but everything else clamored for the man to make his mark and stake his claim, viewers be damned.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 2, 2011 21:57:54 GMT -5
Acting on instinct Peeta kisses Ryir a moment before moving along to his neck,getting lost easily in this male... His... His mate? Yes this must be right. He places butterfly kisses to the Reyl's neck before pausing a moment, "may I?'' Mark him he means, he doesn't want to do anything that would make Ryir hate him later on.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 2, 2011 22:14:04 GMT -5
The dazed bearer loosed his fingers slowly where they'd begun digging into the slim muscles beneath them, smoothing his hands lazily across Peeta's back in a slow, mindless caress. Those kisses... He tipped his head back, voicing a low, soft noise in the back of his throat before realizing what his mate just asked.
His fingers curled in once more as he replied in a low, throaty murmur, the only tone he could quite manage," No, wait." The arms around him felt all too right, and he'd spent his entire life waiting for just this, but he knew he would end the night with a kit growing snug in his belly if he let his mate set his teeth to skin. And no matter how he'd suddenly begun to yearn for just that he balked at the idea, recoiling from the thought with near naked terror. Spoiled, selfish, vain, lazy, everything he was and everything a parent shouldn't be.
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Post by mesmu on Mar 3, 2011 17:49:48 GMT -5
Peeta pulls away and looks into Ryir's eyes, though he doesn't really need to so he can see what he can feel. Worry, seems to be leaking off his just wanting mate. So much it has him scared. He brings a hand to cup the beauty's cheek, "Ryir...?"
So many qeustions placed into one word, so deeply feeling and concerned he couldn't say such a thing in many more syllables. Why? What's wrong? Is there something you wish to say? Speak your mind, love. All those and more were in that one word as the mixed breed Prince waits for what his heart knows is his future queen.
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Post by antibellum on Mar 3, 2011 20:46:34 GMT -5
Ryir leaned back against the arm about his waist, slim shoulders tensing at that gentle touch to his cheek. Turning, bright eyes dark beneath long lashes, he stared hard at the faces, clear now as they weren't in the midst of his dance. They weren't watching openly anymore, but he could feel their eyes and the thought no longer brought a smug smile to his lips.
The concern rolling off his mate, in his voice...in those lovely eyes.. He tore himself away from those thoughts, leaning close to hug himself hard against the giver's front, nose and lips brushing against his chest before he pulled away, beckoning with a curled finger. Not here, he wouldn't talk here; the tribe would clamor for gossip anyway... Cat's eyes reflecting the sheen of the firelight, he offered in a soft tone as close as he'd ever come to pleading," Come with me."
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