Post by Tig on Dec 21, 2015 1:23:00 GMT
Oakley stood at the ledge overlooking the feeding grounds, watching as her Lianath dove for a buck in his prime, and easily snapped it up in her claws. She neatly twisted with those gigantic talons so that the beast died instantly. The Purplerider couldn't help but to admire the amethyst beast's precision and determination as she hunted. The slender Purple lighted on a cliff higher than she, and began to rabidly tear into the flesh, satiating her hunger.
"She is a pretty beast," came a voice from behind her, startling the Purplerider from her reverie. She saw that another woman had come upon her. She knew that the woman was called the Greenrider Dagmar. She had often heard others remark on the woman's beauty. Looking her full in the face, Oakley couldn't help but agree with the opinion of the Greenrider's comely appearance.
Dagmar was tall for a woman, and slender. She was dressed plainly, but even the loose-fitting, hardy clothing could do nothing to hide the femininity of the wearer. What truly distinguished the Greenrider was her long, golden tresses that were presently twisted into an elaborate braid that trailed down her back. Wisps of the pale hair floated free about the sweet face, giving Dagmar an angelic appearance. Perhaps more stunning still were the seaglass green tinted eyes that were heavily lashed as they looked at Oakley.
"Thank you," remarked Oakley, as her eyes sought out the other rider's beast in the midst of the other feeding dragons. She saw the dainty green deftly pluck a doe from the grounds, and admired the sheen of the glossy emerald hued dragon, "Your Marlith is lovely as well."
"Thank you," Dagmar returned politely. The two women coexisted mutely for several moments, neither feeling particularly awkward in the comfortable stillness of the moment. They were each admiring the dragons that feasted there. The sight was an awesome one; one that neither woman could seem to tear her eyes from.
Oakley was dressed today in tight leggings that hugged her muscular calves, and a raspberry-red tunic that hung loosely down to her knees. A pendant hung around her neck, and her wild wavy hair formed a cloud about her head. She had lace-up boots that were polished to a shine, unlike the shabby boots that Dagmar wore. One woman wore clothing to hide her beauty, the other wore clothing to accentuate it. One had dark hair, the other light. They each had green eyes, though Oakley's were verdant, not unlike the surrounding scenery, and Dagmar's were a curious bluish green.
Lianath plummeted from the rocky heights again to find another beast to feed on. She skimmed the ground close to Dagmar's Marlith without invading her hunting space. The purple dragoness snapped her jaws at a passing wherry, catching it easily in her mouth. This time, instead of taking her kill to the cliff face to eat, she devoured it there on the grounds.
One more, and you should be done for the day, my love.
Aww. Two more...please? The whining tone was that of a petulant child, and not a full-grown dragon like Lianath was purported to be.
No, Oakley said firmly, You will not gorge and lie about uselessly when there are training drills to be done.
The Purple finished eating the wherry, and unfurled her wingspan to flap into the air. She wheeled towards a cowering group whose eyes were rolling in fright. Lianath rebelliously chose the largest of the lot, and took her prize into her maw, glittering eyes staring down Oakley from afar.
Green Marlith, on the other hand, ate another doe almost daintily, tearing small bite-sized bits of flesh from her quarry. The smaller beast did not need as much food to sustain herself as the larger Purple did. She, too, did not seem to be as ravenous as Lianath.
"My little glutton," said Oakley with a sideways grin.
"They always seem to want more food than their bellies can handle," agreed Dagmar amiably. And the two women stood in companionable silence again, each watching her bonded beast with almost identical expressions of exasperated affection.
"She is a pretty beast," came a voice from behind her, startling the Purplerider from her reverie. She saw that another woman had come upon her. She knew that the woman was called the Greenrider Dagmar. She had often heard others remark on the woman's beauty. Looking her full in the face, Oakley couldn't help but agree with the opinion of the Greenrider's comely appearance.
Dagmar was tall for a woman, and slender. She was dressed plainly, but even the loose-fitting, hardy clothing could do nothing to hide the femininity of the wearer. What truly distinguished the Greenrider was her long, golden tresses that were presently twisted into an elaborate braid that trailed down her back. Wisps of the pale hair floated free about the sweet face, giving Dagmar an angelic appearance. Perhaps more stunning still were the seaglass green tinted eyes that were heavily lashed as they looked at Oakley.
"Thank you," remarked Oakley, as her eyes sought out the other rider's beast in the midst of the other feeding dragons. She saw the dainty green deftly pluck a doe from the grounds, and admired the sheen of the glossy emerald hued dragon, "Your Marlith is lovely as well."
"Thank you," Dagmar returned politely. The two women coexisted mutely for several moments, neither feeling particularly awkward in the comfortable stillness of the moment. They were each admiring the dragons that feasted there. The sight was an awesome one; one that neither woman could seem to tear her eyes from.
Oakley was dressed today in tight leggings that hugged her muscular calves, and a raspberry-red tunic that hung loosely down to her knees. A pendant hung around her neck, and her wild wavy hair formed a cloud about her head. She had lace-up boots that were polished to a shine, unlike the shabby boots that Dagmar wore. One woman wore clothing to hide her beauty, the other wore clothing to accentuate it. One had dark hair, the other light. They each had green eyes, though Oakley's were verdant, not unlike the surrounding scenery, and Dagmar's were a curious bluish green.
Lianath plummeted from the rocky heights again to find another beast to feed on. She skimmed the ground close to Dagmar's Marlith without invading her hunting space. The purple dragoness snapped her jaws at a passing wherry, catching it easily in her mouth. This time, instead of taking her kill to the cliff face to eat, she devoured it there on the grounds.
One more, and you should be done for the day, my love.
Aww. Two more...please? The whining tone was that of a petulant child, and not a full-grown dragon like Lianath was purported to be.
No, Oakley said firmly, You will not gorge and lie about uselessly when there are training drills to be done.
The Purple finished eating the wherry, and unfurled her wingspan to flap into the air. She wheeled towards a cowering group whose eyes were rolling in fright. Lianath rebelliously chose the largest of the lot, and took her prize into her maw, glittering eyes staring down Oakley from afar.
Green Marlith, on the other hand, ate another doe almost daintily, tearing small bite-sized bits of flesh from her quarry. The smaller beast did not need as much food to sustain herself as the larger Purple did. She, too, did not seem to be as ravenous as Lianath.
"My little glutton," said Oakley with a sideways grin.
"They always seem to want more food than their bellies can handle," agreed Dagmar amiably. And the two women stood in companionable silence again, each watching her bonded beast with almost identical expressions of exasperated affection.
