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 Posted: Mon Apr 27, 2015 6:56 pm
Early as it came, the winter season persisted long also on the opposite end, and through the course of it Ataya found himself ever more convinced that his time feeling at home under his father’s roof was rapidly winding to a close. He needed to be elsewhere.
For all that, in the end, Detraeus made ‘kinder’ choices in regards to his sister and her part-bird mate than Ataya would have expected of the man, he knew well that his own choices would not be welcome should his father learn of them. He made multiple trips on his own over the course of the winter’s proceedings, down through the mountain storms to spend days (and nights) in the desert city when it pleased him, and though, as he had told his sister, he fully expected his time with Edmun to be brief in the great scheme of things, he was reminded, during the times they did spent together, that what they shared was something his father would spit on. And that it would be so, with any man he ever took to bed.
At nineteen he was capable again. Comfortable enough, between his magic, his renewed ability to read by other means, and general acclimation to his handicap that he could care for himself, even in foreign locations. And he wanted that. Wanted self-sufficiency. Wanted experiences outside of the mountains and his father’s rules, outside of the dirty port city that he knew far too well, and beyond the boundaries he always previously stayed within. He had warned his mother of his intentions, on a night when Detraeus’ temper was particularly high and Ataya’s itch for ‘elsewhere’ made the wait all but insufferable. But he had not been specific on when or where because even he was not wholly positive.
And, he refused to part without informing Dysarrin.
As was their unspoken yearly custom, he had not encountered the man since the day after the first snows of the cold season, and while the mountain peaks were white, his friend remained reclusive. While he wasn’t sure precisely what to expect from the man in reaction, he knew he at the very least wanted to offer him a means of finding him so that they would not be separated indefinitely. Ideally, he wanted…
More than that. A travelling partner, perhaps? Dysarrin would make a fit guard, if entirely unruly, but part of him had to admit that he would not entirely mind the company in and of itself either. They had always explored as children — and even into their teenage years — scouting about the mountains and making adventure as they saw fit. So would it really be a stretch to travel further together? Travel properly and have adventures without boundary lines? To really experience the world in full?
The only hook that Ataya foresaw was that he wasn’t certain his friend had ever left the mountains, and though virtually nothing was ever said of his life with his ‘family,’ part of him wondered about how free the man felt to stray far. It occurred to him, too, to extend the invitation to Edmun, and if Dysarrin expressed intentions to stay, then Ataya suspected he would. Until then…
As Ataya reached the end of his path and stepped into the dirt clearing enshrined as ‘their spot’, a stretch of otherwise ordinary earth that had now seen more than its fair share of dramas, he moved wordlessly to the trunk of the gnarled tree there and settled, resting his weight against it at his back and reaching to withdraw a book. The effect, as the warming early-spring winds caught at the long strands of his dark hair like a sea breeze in a tattered sail and Ataya’s attention turned fully to the words of the text tucked in his grip, was much akin to a fast-forwarded replica of the same scene at which his friend had first entered his life twelve years prior. There, he waited.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 9:12 am
There was pawing.
Tiny paws, adorned with nails that thrummed needily against the bared skin on Dysarrin's shoulder, earning some mildly alluring combination of light scratches immediately soothed over by thick fur. The Firani groaned, rolling away from the small creature and sending a swat in it direction to ward the ikri pup away. It was persistent in the wee hours of the morning. At least, the hybrid man assumed it was still early. The caves that served as 'home' didn't light nearly as well as the previous Osias encampment, leaving him never-quite-sure what hour it really was.
The pup circled him. Dys could hear its paws padding against the rock, the fluff from its stomach dusting pebbles away. After a moment, the scratching continued, this time joined by high-pitched whines and whimpers aimed right at Dys' ear. He continued to ignore it, tossing his head and bunching his shoulders to cover much of his face. The puppy yapped. It nipped, and from somewhere off among the camp there was a silencing roar that definitely didn't come from an animal. Or at least not a four-legged one.
The ikri cowed, tucking his nose beneath Dysarrin's neck and burrowing until it lay in a flattened heap beneath the hybrid's skull. For several short moments, it was still. It was quiet. Everything was quiet. Dys relaxed.
When the animal's confidence returned, it squirmed its way free. It sat, it stared, it watched. Dysarrin was almost sure it understood that it had to wait for food or water or whatever else it needed to do. It was an intelligent beast. It could be taught. It could learn. It was the only reason anyone would keep a little meat creature. Certainly not because of the whining or the mewling or the teeny-puny size. The Gaili man seemed convinced it would grow larger, but Dys wasn't an imbecile. There were no signs of such things.
And perhaps, Dys thought, as a spray of wet soaked the back of his hair and into his neck, it wasn't too great at learning, either.
He bolted up with a roar, arm snapping out to catch the quickly retreating pup by the tail and dragging it back toward him. The whines it made before didn't even compare to the pained, terror-barks it released now. Anyone that hadn't woken yet raised their head to glower in his direction. Clawed fingers burrowed into thick fur, scooping the cretin creature up by the scruff of its neck. Dys spat at it, growled and shook it, then trudged off. Out of camp, away from water supply, and back through the crags.
Dysarrin glowered at it while it did its business. For all his occasional desire to wrench its head from its body, it was still his. Bad thing, like Ataya. Dunno why only bad things had to follow him around. He snorted, crossing his arms as he waited for the pup to sniff every rock and every tree and every piece of grass. His head tilted back, up toward the sky. Sun was up. Wasn't terribly cold. Not so much that the natural heat of his body couldn't keep the chill at bay.
He clucked his tongue as the pup scampered back toward him, tongue lolling and struggling not to trip over its own massive paws. Maybe Ataya was out? Maybe. Stupid puppy had to be punished, and Dys would need something to entertain his time in the interim.
And such was how Dysarrin found himself making his way to the 'spot' alone. The ikri had been deposited 'safely' into a deep, shell of crater, far enough away from camp that its pitiful cries for attention wouldn't be heard by anything that didn't want to eat it. It would learn. Had to be better at that than Ataya, anyway.
The wind caught the scent of freshly shampooed hair, while not entirely pleasant, was at least familiar and welcoming in its own way. Dysarrin purred and moved off toward where his small companion sat tucked between the roots of the old tree, holding his books and being generally boring, as he usually was until Dys made his arrival. With an amused rumble, he scraped his claw down the crevice created by the open pages, pressing down as he neared the edge to tip the book from Ata's fingers. "Got this stupid thing again," he commented teasingly.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 9:49 am
Foul smells did not generally illicit smiles from Ataya, whose lips rarely found reason to bother with such gestures to begin with. But in early spring on occasions such as this, the vile, unmistakable odor was enough, at least, to get an upwards twitch out of the corner of his mouth. Ataya kept his attention to his text. His fingers, dimly aglow with the magic of his ink-reading spell, continued to skim over the parchment until Dysarrin was on him, his shadow turning the world around Ataya from white to a more muted, darker grey and the sound of a claw — or ‘fingernail’ — scratching down the page came with the slight tipping of the book away from him.
“Yes,” Ataya said. “They are called ‘books.’ Magnificent things, really…” Even as he said it, however, Ataya allowed the text to move before tucking it out from under the assault of Dys’ talon and closing it. Setting it away early somewhere safe, Ataya figured, would offer it a far greater chance at a long lifespan and period of usefulness than trying to have it compete with Dysarrin for his attention. Books rarely won. Besides, at least in this instance, Ataya was genuinely more interested in his company than the text for the time being. “You…” Ataya’s long, bent nose wrinkled with observance. “You smell like piss, Dysarrin, truly — what do you do with your family over the winter? Have urinating contests? Bathe in it as an endurance test?”
He reached as he said it, murmuring a brief cleansing spell to work its way through where the worst of the scent seemed to originate. Perhaps he had had a run in with a particularly territorial baowi with a full bladder. The mental image — while unlikely accurate — was at least vaguely amusing, and Dysarrin did smell marginally better after the spell, though what he really needed was a cap a pie dousing and thorough scrub. Ataya saved the thought for later.
“I am happy to see, though, that — urine notwithstanding — you survived the snows. Now that you are here, there was something I wanted to discuss with you…”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 10:26 am
Dysarrin rolled his eyes with a snort, never surprised by the things Ataya found 'magnificent,' even though little scraps of paper really shouldn't hold much interest to anyone. Let alone for over a decade. As his companion shifted the distracting thing away from him, Dys took up his usual perch, planted in a low, bunched crouch just on the swatch of available ground before Ataya.
He opened his mouth to comment that his companion truly was a miserable flesh-sack without him there to keep things interesting, but was thrown off-course by the wrinkled nose and sound of distaste in Ata's voice. Dysarrin's lids pinched shut, his nose bunching and lips drawing into a thin line. "Got a Little Meat," he grunted out lowly. "Pees everywhere." And while he didn't make a habit of repeating himself, Dys wanted it to be clear that he found this behavior no more acceptable than the Aiskala male likely did, and was probably more offended as a whole than Ataya's nose could ever be. "Pees. Everywhere."
Satisfied that his point was made, he shifted forward, butting his forehead against Ata's and rumbling out a, "You dun smell so good, either. Like dead flowers and cold rain and-" Whatever spell Ataya cast dampened the powerful onslaught of scent caused by the stupid puppy. Dys huffed, pulling back and shaking his head as his brows furrowed because of a new and decidedly less familiar smell. His face crinkled and he looked down, thoughtful. "-weird. Bad." A tooth poked from between his lips, and his wings flicked out and beat, dusting away the scents for a later time. Bad smells followed him. That was all.
He rolled his shoulders, tipping away just enough and refocusing on things that weren't smells. "...Gonna do stuff today?"
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 11:04 am
“A little…meat…?”
Ataya’s expression shifted with confusion, though at the assertion that this thing, whatever it was, ‘peed everywhere’ he came to wonder if Dysarrin meant he was actually attempting to keep some variety of pet. A chopped, half-amused sound bubbled its way up his throat, since Dysarrin himself was so close to animal himself, it stretched the imagination to picture him assuming some sort of fiduciary role over another creature. Though, Ataya supposed, if it was urinating on him, then training and discipline must be going as well as could be expected.
When Dysarrin pressed close, however, thoughts of the beast — or whatever it was or might be — shifted away for another time and Ataya’s lashes flit shut instead. “Mm…dead flowers? And cold rain…” His thoughts moved for a moment to the scent of Edmun’s smoke. The sound of bitter winter winds winding their way around his house, and all the various herbal concoctions and teas he found ingredients for from the gods knew where. Edmun might smell like some perpetual combination of live and dead plants of all sorts. His house certainly did. But Ataya was fairly certain that he didn’t. “Yes,” he said aloud, though, in answer to the latter question. “I actually have something for you.”
Ataya reached as he said it, slipping his fingers in to a pouch at his waist-belt and fiddling for only a moment before pulling loose a small, smooth marbled stone. Partly flattened on two sides and small enough to fit easily in one’s palm or pocket, the rock was etched in the flatter parts — carefully carved rune magic which Ataya had handled himself — but otherwise fairly plain and unassuming. Nothing a thief would find value in to steal, certainly.
“I do not intend to stay in these mountains…not indefinitely, and likely not much longer. But I wanted you to know, first, so that you would not wonder where I wandered.” ‘Or assume me dead, as might be your inclination.’ “This…” He reached, catching at Dysarrin’s hand and guiding it forward to touch, “…is simply activated. All you must do is touch your skin to it and it will point you towards this…” Ataya lifted a second, matching stone, between the two of which a narrow but bright ribbon of white-gold light hung, “…which I will always keep on my person, should you decide to come looking. So keep it, mm?” He touched at Dysarrin’s fingers, urging them to close around the stone. “I would prefer not to lose contact with you…and as things stand it may be quite soon that I depart.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 11:42 am
Dysarrin watched Ataya, intrigued by the curiousness of this new smell, but also fully prepared to admit that anything his mind concocted was far-fetched and out of the realm of possibility. Because first and foremost, Ataya was his, and anyone that the two of them had come into contact with simultaneously would know that already. And even if they didn't, Ataya did. Ataya understood. They'd had conversations about it multiple times. The Aiskala man had agreed that he was, in fact, Dysarrin's. And that alone should be enough.
Despite his mind's insistence that he should dwell on the thought or demand answers of this perturbing scent, his attention flit back to the bony boy at his promise of 'something.' That at least, was exciting, as somethings had the potential to be. He shifted closer again, wary but expectant as he observed the removal of his 'something' from Ataya's bag. Dysarrin leaned forward as the stone emerged, scrutinizing it before determining with no small sense of brainpower, "It's a rock." And so it was. But an interesting rock, at least, he noted as Ata tugged his fingers forward to touch it. Capable of lights and beams and smoother than most rocks around here.
Dysarrin snorted, collecting the thing from Ataya's grasp and leaning back to inspect it. He flipped it in his hand, scritching his nail against an etching and staring at it. "You go away lots," he retorted matter-of-factly. As much as Dysarrin didn't see a need to, he wasn't so unobservant that he was unaware of Ataya departing from the his usual on a regular basis. They small party generally departed as a tribe, so Dys took it to be some ritual of some sort. The family was weirdly nomadic. And that was fine enough. They returned every time they left. And he expected this time would be no different. "Always come back," he quipped.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 12:02 pm
“For short periods in the past, yes,” Ataya said. “But this would be…different. I would go on my own, far away. Long across the desert to other cities…perhaps other continents. It might be a full passing of the seasons or longer still before I came again…”
He hesitated, frowning before tucking away his half of the two etched stones, satisfied at least that Dysarrin seemed to appreciate it enough to hopefully keep it. The next part came only after a pause, and with uncertainty about how exactly his friend would take it.
“You could come with me, if you liked…” He ran a comb of fingers back through his hair, tucking it behind a long ear and tilting his chin away as though to ‘look’ sidelong. “We could both leave, just the two of us, and we wouldn’t have to meet only here. We could do all variety of things. Far more than is available in just the space of the mountains. See foreign cities and foods and people, vast new lands like nothing you’ve set foot on before…”
Though he supposed he wasn’t sure of it, Ataya had a heavy suspicion that these would not be the sort of things Edmun would be interested in even if he did offer. The other man, despite being a resident of a traveller’s port city, had lived on Eowyn for the great bulk of his life, from what Ataya had discerned, and had showed no previous interest in most anything that Ataya might classify as actually exciting or adventurous. Not to mention, for all that he enjoyed their time together as it was, he wasn’t sure he would want the ysali as a permanent travelling partner. That went a hefty stretch beyond his previous imaginings of their relationship.
Dysarrin, however…
Well, surely, he could do whatever he did where he was now? Ataya didn’t know precisely what all that entailed in terms of women and familial duties, but much as it frustrated him to admit, leaving the wild man behind for stretches of a year or more was quite possibly the least pleasant of all other minor drawbacks to his plan to leave. What if, limited as the man’s brain capacity was, he forgot about him?
It was a more upsetting notion than it had any right to be.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 12:33 pm
Other... continents. Dysarrin's brows furrowed, his lips tugging down sharply into an unamused frown that was shielded only by the thick sprouting of hair that had formed there over the years. Missing Ata during the winter was one thing. No one wanted to be out in the cold, no one except the scrawny Aiskala boy. Winter in the mountains was harsh, but not necessarily long. Just a few agonizing changes of the moon. That at least, was tolerable, however barely. But missing Ata during the summer- Dys scowled. He couldn't even remember what he did during the summers before Ata. Probably a whole lot of nothing.
"Can't... just leave and not come back," he griped, shoving himself forward and invading his companion's space, fingers finding their way into whatever swatch of fabric from Ataya's clothes that they could successfully grab and hauling him forward like a rag doll. "You live here. We live here. Can't not have someplace to live. Can't go far away. Get tired. Hafta sleep. Gotta sleep at home. Can't-"
There were a great many 'can't's underway, and by this point, Dys knew that Ataya took just as well to 'can't' as Dysarrin did himself. The pair was not on friendly terms with 'can't,' to say the least. And 'can't' would likely not get him his way. It rarely did. His grip slackened, sliding down the length of Ataya's shirt, over his legs and off. He drew his arms back toward himself, settling them on his knees and glaring at the dirt. This was why he hated winter. Every time his thoughts revisited the first days of Spring, it all seemed negative. Ata was hurt. Ata was combative. Ata was bloody crazy. The issues resolved themselves in time, but they wouldn't if the small man wasn't there.
At length, Dysarrin settled on, "Mine. That's what you said. Said you were mine. And I'm yours." he leaned forward, bracing his palms against the tree to either side of Ataya and pressing in. With some petulant nagging in the back of his mind, he tacked on, "Doesn't smell like mine."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2015 1:03 pm
Ataya opened his mouth, brow pinching when he was first dragged forward. But then, it wasn’t entirely a surprise — he hadn’t expected everything to settle in at once or Dys to take pleasantly to the idea of him leaving — and, all things considered, Dysarrin wasn’t reacting as violently or irrationally as he easily could have. So, Ataya eventually abandoned initial attempts at speech and instead held his tongue, allowing his friend to fuss for a period, listening, and waiting until the grip on him loosened and slipped down.
When Dysarrin moved in close again, crowding him until the shadow before his face was black-grey, Ataya shut his eyes, and at Dysarrin’s words his pulse gave an irritating half-stutter. “Yours,” he agreed with a murmur and a frown, his hands climbing to rest — palms flat and fingers barely crimped, not pushing but perching — on Dysarrin’s chest, “…and that is why I would have you come with me. We would travel together and sleep wherever we pleased, it wouldn’t have to be here. Home could be anywhere or nowhere, it doesn’t matter…there wouldn’t be long winters apart anymore. Or waiting or rules or…”
Ataya frowned. A more curious, puzzled expression than previously as Dysarrin’s last words registered fully. His fingertips, already at the man’s front, furrowed loosely into the chest hair there. Filthy. Needed cleaning. All of him needed cleaning. As the pads of Ataya’s fingers found skin beneath the hair, he tilted his head with a subtle shake of it.
“I don’t ‘smell’ like yours? Whatever is that supposed to mean? Whose else would I—” Ataya’s words cut off of their own accord, his mind making the leap before common sense caught up to inform him of how ridiculous the thought was, and he made a snort of a sound, torn between amusement and disbelief. It was something else. It had to be something else. “You couldn’t possibly tell. You couldn’t tell when I went blind. Don’t tell me you can actually smell a difference now that I…”
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2015 7:28 am
Dysarrin's head notched to the side, bottom lip jutting out and eyes narrowing as his companion's arguments cut off. He could've made excuses about Ataya collecting some random scents from wherever it was his family made their journey to. Convinced himself that he was delirious or over-imaginative because his Ataya knew better. But in his experience, there weren't a great many things that would render the other male silent, for however short a time it was. Ata knew he'd done wrong. Or at least thought he'd done something Dysarrin wouldn't be able to notice and hadn't seen fit to inform him of.
Dys growled. For all his companion's amused snorting, the Firani found himself quite unentertained. His palm slipped away from the tree trunk, catching the topmost strands of Ataya's hair and gliding down, around, before bunching tightly in the dark mass at the nape of his neck and tugging backward, tilting his Ata's head back and away.
He dipped his head, brushing slightly parted lips against the small swatch of pale skin at the side of Ataya's neck, inhaling and tasting against the roof of his mouth some indeterminable difference. Some barely-there shift in the make-up of 'Ataya.' Something unneeded, unwanted and certainly not belonging to anyone within the immediate vicinity. Whatever excuses Dysarrin made before disintegrated, lost to some haze of annoyance and betrayal and sudden burn to make his companion understand. Because he didn't. Dys thought he did. But no.
Another rumble slipped free as Dys yanked Ata's head back down and toward him, refusing to relent the hold he had on his hair. He huffed as he leaned in, dusting the tips of their noses together as he glared into milky-white eyes. Because if he wanted it hard enough, Ataya would see him and realize that mistakes had been made and apologize, and this and all that other nonsense would dissipate. The grip in his hair tightened. "Didn't think I could tell? Didn't think I would know if someone else touched my things. Mine." He repeated roughly.
With only minimal struggle as trying to detach his claws from Ataya's hair Dys released him, huffing and bracing his arms to either side of thin hips. There was a moment where Dys contemplated words; contemplated an argument, wondered what he could say at this point that he hadn't said a thousand times. It would likely be as useless as it had so far. Ataya was a stubborn brat. Instead he reverted to messier tactics, leaning back in to brush his lips against the pulse in Ataya's throat, leaning in and pinning him there so that when teeth followed - insistent, pinching, and unapologetic - he at least didn't have to worry about being slapped.
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2015 8:39 am
When Dysarrin’s taloned fingers twined into his hair and bunched, Ataya stilled. It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar gesture, even from Dys, but under the given circumstances Ataya was still not sure quite what to expect from it, and so he held his tongue, waiting and ignoring the anxious, uneven stutter of his pulse in his throat. He wasn’t afraid. Not of Dys. But the position reminded him still of the day he had first come before his friend after losing his eyesight and—
Then Dysarrin’s breath, and mouth, brushed up the column of his throat and it was almost embarrassing the speed with which Ataya’s thoughts tripped from vague, latent anxiety to a very potent and unasked-for different variety of focus. His lashes flit shut. His fingers at Dysarrin’s chest bunched in the hair there as heat sank through him and pooled low in his gut. His breath slipped from his lips in a half-broken exhale, and Dysarrin really needed to be taught not to make advances like this when he clearly didn’t want—
Before the thought could finish itself, Dysarrin was dragging him back again. Ataya swallowed at the sound in his throat, lashes lifting again for whatever good it did — none — so that he could ‘meet’ Dysarrin’s stare when he pushed their faces in close. His friend’s words took longer than they ought to have to process.
Someone else.
So he could smell Edmun? Was that even possible? Ataya supposed, given Dysarrin’s wealth of animalistic mannerisms to begin with it certainly wasn’t far fetched that he had some khehora blood in him. Perhaps a touch more than he might otherwise have guessed. Regardless, the feat was still highly impressive.
“I—yes,” Ataya admitted, his voice still on the edge between amusement and disbelief, though now with an added touch of breathless uncertainty at the notion that Dysarrin apparently did care if he shared another’s bed? “I did not think you would notice. I didn’t frankly think you would care, for that matter. Not in that regard. You never seemed to want—”
Dysarrin’s lips were on his neck again. His body, like a heated rock wall, kept Ataya pressed to the treebark and caged in close, almost preventing breath let alone movement or escape. Not that, at this point, Ataya felt any immediate need to be going anywhere. Then came teeth. At the sharp, none-too-gentle bite to his throat, Ataya made a sound that he was likely fortunate only Dysarrin would hear, and his body had no right to be so immediately responsive as it was: wire-thin muscles bunching and jerking in startlement, but hips twitching forward in automatic invitation.
A distant and easily-ignored portion of his mind suggested that he ought to object. Or, at the very least, put up some guise of objection given that he was fairly certain Edmun considered them to be in some sort of two-person and not multi-person relationship and objecting would be the decent thing to do. But Ataya found he didn’t particularly care. Dysarrin was close — here, now, familiar, his — and the stinging dig of his teeth and press of his body made Ataya’s pool of arguments against shallow and rapidly drying.
He tilted his head, baring his throat to Dysarrin’s advances and squirming to press his hips in, towards the other’s pin as he clung. “Dys—I do, truly hope you appreciate the full extent of what your body language is insinuating, because if you do not at this point—”
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2015 10:32 am
Ataya always had so many words to share. Such a vast sea of churning complaints, occasionally spattered with indignant declarations and muttered 'orders.' And - much more recently - sounds. Half choked and breathy and likely to have gone ignored if not for the accenting jut of hips that did nothing to repel oversized Firani barbarians. Dysarrin's fingers caught at his waist, slipping around and down toward the base of his spine to encouragingly press Ataya forward and against him.
In the grand scheme of things, it really was his own fault that the bony mage had seen fit to travel to lands uncharted seeking (and finding) 'more.' A time ago, Dys had chastised himself for abandoning Ataya for small stretches of time, and yet he continued to do so on a yearly basis, allowing him to roam free and unhindered for the better part of three changes of the moon. He'd already known he disapproved of the things Ata could get up to in that time, but - secluded as they were - he hadn't known how much he could dislike the available activities until they were already underway.
With a snort, Dys strung his other arm about Ataya's frame, coiling it around his thin shoulders and pinning his arms to his sides as teeth drove in harder, pinching through skin and tugging until he tasted copper against his tongue and holding there like a mutt with a chew toy. After an added pinch and satisfied that that should at least be noticeable by the strangers Ataya bedded, Dys diverted his attention elsewhere, down, brushing lips over his shoulder and down to his collarbone and-
Dys grunted, freeing his captive and moving a scarce amount of inches away before settling a hand on his shoulder and pitching him sidelong, down, away from the tree, against the ground and hovering overtop him. "I mind," he bit out, bracing one hand at the side of Ataya's head while the other dipped down to clasp at bony hips and tug them up to meet his.
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Posted: Wed Apr 29, 2015 11:32 am
Very well. Interested. When Dysarrin’s grip initially dragged his hips forward, grinding them forcibly together, Ataya’s concerns that they might somehow still be communicating on fundamentally different wavelengths was abolished with and he happily dismissed that concern. Which left him with— teeth again, this time rougher still and biting to the point of breaking while he was held physically shackled by Dysarrin’s grip to the tree and part of him realized there was ample reason to take objection to the train of events as they stood. He did initially cry out at the assault, though it was more of a hissed yelp than anything else, partially muted against Dysarrin’s shoulder as his head fell forward to pant against it and wince. And yes, very well, perhaps having one’s neck bit open to bleeding by a mountain wildman was not precisely the sort of thing that most people took to enjoying in their spare time, but then Ataya was not ‘most people’ and what did elusive ‘normal’ tastes matter to him anyway? He voiced a more adamant objection when he was heaved sidelong, yipping and then scowling as he crumpled to the dirt in a messy heap of limbs and cloth. “You might at least attempt to be gentle, brute, lest I break a limb in the proceedings. A simple non-physical instruction to relocate to the ground would have sufficed just as w—” But then, Ataya found that having Dysarrin on him, over him, trapping him to the ground and guiding his body up to fit theirs together was more than enough excuse to lose a sentence midway through. He swallowed, and nodded. “Ah…yes,” he said. “I did actually manage to deduce that you seemed to…mind. My apologies. I’ll…” His knees rose, lifting to bend up and pinch to either side of Dysarrin’s hips. His fingers, meanwhile, brushed down — down — to the ‘waistline’ of Dysarrin’s loincloth and honestly, there wasn’t much in the way there, was there? Ataya’s face, in spite of himself, heated. “I’ll make it up to you, mm?” RP TRUNCATED
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