Welcome to Gaia! ::

Kara huffed lightly as she turned away from her brother and focused her attention back on Dysarrin. She watched closely as he leaned in to sniff, Lyari giving a tentative sniff back before he pulled back, still not fully trusting the strange creature in front of him. He nudged his head against Kara’s side as Dys talked to him. She tilted her head at his question and wondered if it was possible he had never seen a khehora before. “His name’s Lyari and he’s a ysali khehora.”

Kara’s attention flicked to her brother as he invited Dys to swim with them. She pursed her lips in annoyance but kept her mouth shut. At least if Dys swam with them, she’d still get to spend time with her brother, even if she had to share that time. She glanced back to Dys, eyeing the dirt covering the boy’s body and wondered if he had ever touched water in his life, let alone swam. “It’s fun,” she said as the corner of her lips curled up into a small smile.

Ataya blinked and then bristled, shoulders stiffening and brow pinching at the poor reception he got from not just one, but both of those who had clearly wanted to spend time with him. He was here because Akara asked him to stay and only because Akara asked him to stay. He’d gone out of his way to swim with her and try to keep her in good spirits and do as she liked, and now, by no fault of his own, she was displeased with him? Huffing and pursing her lips as though his friend’s arrival were not only somehow his ‘fault’ — which it clearly wasn’t — but also ‘bad’ to begin with. Which it also wasn’t.

It seemed wildly unfair.

And Dysarrin — Ataya pursed his lips at his friend’s growled response — Dysarrin had clearly come all this way to see him, but for what, if he was only going to be cross and mean-spirited?

Eventually, Ataya snorted, scowling as he ran his fingers once more through his hair. If he’d known both of them would be sour-tempered and unmanageable, perhaps he ought better have stayed in bed and read alone all day. “It is fun,” he griped. “And clean, though admittedly it might become a bit more gross if you came in. You see how generous we’re being. But if you want to be a big, pouty, filthy baby…”

Dysarrin glowered at the 'baby' khehora clinging to the girl's side. Sure did look sick. Why else would it make friends with a Peisio hybrid if not because it wanted her magic? For giggles? So it could gain her trust and eat her when it was older? A grin slowly sprawled itself across his face. He was about to comment that it should be with the other khehora instead of her, but a tendril of water pulled from the lake and sent streaming toward his face had him cutting off with a low snarl.

It wove its way around him, and Dys watched through narrowed eyes, fanning his wings to coax the stream farther away from him. It wasn't as if he particularly minded a splash or two, he just didn't think it was necessary for her to be spouting off magic-water-threads around him. He huffed softly. Her and Ataya both with their magic, just deciding to let it loose whenever. There was slightly less appreciation for such antics in camp... Not that it mattered here.

He watched the small khehora bound away, tail swaying and noises of excitement erupting from his maw. Weird little beastie. So easily swayed by anything the girl threw his way.

He could've left it at that. They all could've left it at that and each returned to their own business. But Ataya had to open his mouth again, reigniting a burst of annoyance when Dys was just prepared to forgive him (or at least forget). With a string of mutters and grumbled, he stalked past Akara, stomping over to where the small boy raked fingers through his hair in an effort to remove the water. If Ataya didn't even want it on him, why would he think Dysarrin would want it? Stupid thing. Stupid, bad thing.

"Not a baby," he snapped, locking a large and very firm hand around Ata's upper arm. With a growl, he plucked the boy from the ground and twisted, jerking him from the lakeside and sending him careening toward the water.

Kara tensed as Dys grabbed hold of Ataya and could only stand and watch as it seemed like her brother flew through the air in slow motion. As soon as he hit the lake, though, her magic rippled out, reaching for him to assure her that he was alright. Even so, she held her breath until he resurfaced. Had she not felt him in the water, the slight delay in him reemerging would have worried her and she wasn’t sure what she would have done to Dysarrin had he harmed her brother.

As it stood, she clenched her fists, holding back as best she could. How dare he do that. As Ata had said, he could have seriously hurt him. When her brother sent a splash in Dys’ direction, Kara couldn’t help but pluck at it, adding even more water to it and pushing it towards Dys’ chest. The impact of the water was enough to send him stumbling back into the lake. She didn’t care that he didn’t like water, that he didn’t swim. None of that mattered.

Kara panted, frustration spilling out, as she tugged more water up from the lake, forming it into a sort of water bubble and hovering it over Dys’ head. As she spread her fingers, the bubble burst and water rained down over the wild boy’s head, soaking any part of him that wasn’t already wet.

Ataya blinked, opening his mouth to comment as the scene unfolded, but never quite making it to that point. Instead, as Akara’s summoned snaked of water catapulted into Dysarrin and his yelped, staggered, slipped, and tumbled with all the grace of an oversized and water-logged bouken into the lake and mud, Ataya found an entirely different sound bubbling up in his throat. Seconds later, he was snickering, and then laughing outright, entirely too amused by the sight Dysarrin made, pouty and soaked as he was.

When Dys threw mud, though, Ataya snorted, moving forward to catch his friend around the waist in a loose and practically useless manner (at least, in terms of likelihood of actually holding Dysarrin back if he wanted to pull free) meant instead to hopefully dissuade any further affronts from either side that might exacerbate foul moods.

“Come on, then, Dys, you’re fine, hm?” he said, a pinch of genuine amusement still obvious in his tone. “You look…” A single glance down what Dysarrin actually looked like — muddy, sopping wet, petulant and sullen — only served to stoke his good humor in an off-handed way. “Dashing, really. Positively ferocious.”

Dysarrin glowered down at the lad whose scrawny arms had latched themselves around his waist for whatever reason. He could argue that he didn't feel fine, or particularly ferocious, for that matter. He felt wet, like millions of extraordinarily tiny little people were clinging together and dragging him down, attaching to his clothes and his hair and his wings. Ugh, they were on his wings. He grumbled in annoyance, rolling his shoulders and fanning them to desperately flick away the elemental nuisance. And Ataya had chosen to join forces with them. How wonderful.

The wave that washed over the pair renewed any of the moisture the hybrid boy had managed to dislodge. For a moment, his shoulders scrunched up to protect his head, shielding himself like a displeased tortoise. When the wave subsided, he turned back to Ata, brows furrowed and face bunched in agitation. He dislodged his companion with the nudge of his elbow, gesturing grumpily to Akara with his other hand as a string of probably illicit chatters and rumbles and hisses slipped from his lips.

With his peace said (however unintelligible it was), he dragged himself out of the water, climbing up onto the bank on all fours and being sure to shoot the suddenly chipper girl his foulest of glares. "Dun wanna," he grumbled out for what certainly seemed like the millionth time as he took up a post on the edge to sulk.