Who

D'ren, Hannah

What

Finding a foreign visitor on the beach leads to another discussion on some fairly weighty topics.

When

It is afternoon of the nineteenth day of the first month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Beach, Southern Weyr

OOC Date

 

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beach.jpg

Beach

An eerie mirror, the glass-quiet Sea of Azov: the clear waters stretch along the dark-pebbled shores, and along this narrow beach. Here the faintest lap of waves belies the calm beyond; here the rocks have been ground down into finest, softest sand - those observant would mark upon the similarity between it and the sands of the hatching grounds. The soft sand soaks up summer sunlight as a sponge; painfully hot during the warmer months, it is only truly pleasant at wintertime. Rocks rise to east and west, lichen-limned and green against the abyssal darkness of stone.

It is the seventy-ninth day of Summer and 115 degrees. It is sunny and bright. White fluffy clouds drift lazily across the china blue sky.

Timor: moon6.jpg
Belior: moon3.jpg

-- On Pern --
It is 2:43 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the nineteenth day of the first month of the second turn of the 12th pass.
In Southern:
It is the seventy-ninth day of Summer and 115 degrees. It is sunny and bright. White fluffy clouds drift lazily across the china blue sky.




D'ren is here for his about-every-sevenday visit with Linden, but since his son is sick as a canine and holed up in the barracks sleeping, D'ren is down on the beach. While a strapless Aikuonath paddles around in the water, D'ren is swimming laps back and forth, keeping track by marking his distance with two distinct trees. He swims strongly between them, back and forth, enjoying the cool water as compared to the heat of the air.

Dhiammarath's presence is felt throughout the weyr, the glow that was subtle at first has become a bright spotlight that surrounds the pale, white-gold queen in a nimbus of starry light. Not quite ready yet, the gold's time is drawing near. Very, very near. Which leaves Hannah suffering in the wake of that building heat, and so she escapes to the cool breezes of the beach, dressed in a thin-strapped sundress of blood-red, fitted about the bust before falling into a breezy skirt that stops at the knees. Pregnancy weight has been drained off of her, especially in these last days of Dhiammarath's cycle, the burn of calories and the skipped meals have done what time was slowly handling. "D'ren," she cannot help the heat that suffuses everything she does, nor in the assessing way her green eyes peer up at the bronzerider from another weyr, but she does try to hold back, greeting the man with a smile that is friendly, if showing too much feral bite. "Visiting Linden?" She does not step too close to him, however. She is careful to keep more than inches between her and, well, anything.

D'ren halts in his swim to look towards the beach, treading water just beyond the shallows. "Hannah," he calls with a crooked grin. "I mean, ma'am." He offers a dripping hand in salute before he paddles ashore, running hands over his short hair as the water streams off of him. In his knee-length swim trunks his threadscars are visible, a gnarled mess of scar tissue across his right shoulder and also the outside of his right calf. "Ista's duties. How are you and yours?" Though the subtle gleam in his green eyes suggests he's at least aware of her queen's impending Flight. Perhaps they're not here /just/ to visit Linden. He stops a few feet away, respecting her personal space. "Yeah, though the boy's gone and caught himself a bad cold up at that ice hold of yours." He shrugs and grins. "So he's stuck in bed." He doesn't seem concerned.

"We are," Hannah's look is considering, assessing. It is with a depth that comes from one who's assessing a male for something more than conversation. More than sex, too, as her eyes pass from D'ren to Aikuonath. Her thought is finished with a smile, "well. Or will be when all of this is over with." That causes a shuddering kind of laugh, and she folds her arms across her chest while turning her eyes deliberately into Rukbat's buttery light. Perhaps to sear a blindness into her vision before turning back to D'ren. "I had heard about that. I'm not allowed near them yet." For obvious reasons. Attempting to keep her voice gentled, though the husky sound has a hint of midnight to it, "I'm sure Renalde and his," the light in her eyes flares with humor, "'staff' are handling them well." A pause to lick dry lips, she tilts her head toward the calm sea, "Going for a swim? Southern's duties to Ista. How is Lendai? You an Aikuonath," her eyes once again slip to the bronze, "are well?" Maybe she means delicious.

Aikuonath's golden hide certainly does /shine/ in this light, especially wet as he is from the water, the sea beading against freshly oiled hide and casting rainbow prisms against his flanks. He dips his head politely to the soon-to-be-senior, rumbling low and deep. Manly rumble, and he swims close enough to shore so he can spread his mighty wings. Yes, showing off, and D'ren clears his throat with a little smirk that turns to assess Hannah in return. Then he blinks and his expression returns to normal. Down boy. Aik's wings fold and he settles. "I'm sure it must be difficult for you. Does her proddy period usually last long?" His head bobs. "Nor am I, so I decided to come down here for a swim in your lovely eyes - I mean sea." COUGH. Then she's talking about Renalde's staff and D'ren laughs. "I've no doubt he and his staff are handling the boys quite well." He tilts his head back to the sea. "Was just doing some laps. Lendai is well, far as I'm able to see." He's hardly in her inner circle of pink fabulousness. "Aikuonath and I are very well, yes. Strong and fit."

"Long enough to get a taste of everything," Hannah's voice is soft, intimate and not entirely of her own doing. She even casts a somewhat apologetic smile to the bronzerider before her eyes do go to admiring the fit and form of the Istan bronze. "He is very fit." Green eyes slide to the bronzerider. "So are you." She advances one tiny step before she halts herself. "If you tarry too long you might get caught up in it. Do you feel you're fit for that?" A question that slips out in husky curl of heat, her eyes intent. Searching. She's holds herself aloof, but it's only to ensure control of the situation. "I'm sorry, D'ren. I am not myself," is her apology, a half-turn away from the man that stands there all dripping on the sands of her beach. Hers. The weyr. The first chains of responsibility are being lain, here. His slip does spark a laugh that surfaces to the cool green of her eyes. "It's a lovely sea to swim in," she remarks, before nodding. "You look very well." Everything with a male dragon looks too delicious for her right now. Except, the gimpy ones.

"Everything?" D'ren asks, a brow lifting as he grins. "Thank you, he is," he agrees, looking fondly back at his golden hued bronze. As for him…he just smiles a bit sheepishly. "Thank you. Fit for what, Weyrleader?" He chuckles, his smile kind. "I'm not concerned about it. Aik hasn't won many gold flights and I seriously doubt Southern would want an out of weyr bronze to lead them. And there's no need to apologize, I understand. Been around enough proddy goldriders in my time. I can get dressed if it'd help?" he offers, taking a half step away from her to where his straps rest on the beach in some shade. "Thank you, Hannah. You look very well too."

"I— " Hannah's voice comes with a cough, though she ducks her eyes to the sand, "She's getting close, and it's always hardest when she's getting close. It's like everything is a buffet from which to pick, but none to sample until it's time. It's a heat that builds up and everything feels good, until there's nothing but feeling good. Nothing to stop it, to release it." She gives a little shake of her head, "One never knows what will happen in a flight. Privately, there are those I hope are forced to leave before they fly." Some of the lurkers are not so awesome. "I am sure you have, but it's not a side of myself that I want to thrust," har, har, "on people." Another smile touches. "I'll just have to make sure Th'seus doesn't have late drills tonight," this is said with a laugh. "How is Linden doing with Candidacy?" Because mundane topics surely will make it easier to not be looking for prime male targets.

D'ren listens with a curious interest, nodding his head. "Ah. I can sort of understand. It's similar when he chases. Only that doesn't last for days on end. No final release until she's caught?" He looks sympathetic. Then he tilts his head. "Why don't you send them away?" he suggests. "Make up errands, or send them to Ista to assist Lendai. I'm sure she would do that for you. It's your weyr, you should have a say in your chasers and who will potentially be your Weyrleader." He chuckles, drifting back towards his straps even though she didn't give him an answer. Crouching, he pulls out a tunic to tug on over his still-wet skin. He still doesn't dry himself off first. He grins. "It'd be a shame if he was too tired." And that's genuine, too, not a quip. "Linden seems to be doing very well," he says, pulling out a waterskin and offering it to her as he stands in the shade. "He loves it here. Don't think he'd want to return to Ista, to be honest with you, if he doesn't impress."

Maybe Hannah doesn't have an answer, torn between her better half and her proddy half. "If he's a suitable male, Dhiammarath enjoys the court they create. Even if I do not," Hannah answers, and to her it is a simple answer. "Everything builds up to that final, culminating moment when she flies," the goldrider states quietly with an awkward shrug, the parallels not lost on her. "He's welcome to stay if he doesn't want to return to Ista," this Hannah can state with a certainty as she reaches for the water skin with a grateful, "Thank you." Water is cool and refreshing and cooling on the inside that's overdone with heat. "I need them all here, but it'll be over soon. And the choice will be made." She hands back the skin and frowns, "I just hope it's one I can work with." Especially as her first. "There are some who aim for political gains. Who would be puppets to the other weyrs in an attempt to rule, so…" It's a tricky situation, to be sure. "It would be shame," that is answered with grin. "How about you? Still enjoying Igen's sandy dunes?"

Well, D'ren has a shirt on now at least, sitting down in the shade and motioning for her to join him if she wishes, as he takes the water skin back to drink from it. "Best of luck to you then, and to Southern. Hopefully whoever wins is well suited to lead, and works well with you for the betterment of Southern, not just for themselves." The bronzerider nods. "Thank you, I'll be sure to tell him that. I've been considering putting in for a transfer myself," he admits thoughtfully. As for Igen, his brows furrow and he shakes his head. "No…no reason to visit there any longer."

Drawn to the coolness of the shade, Hannah does step out of Rukbat's light that burns fair shoulders. Careful not to touch anything, the goldrider takes a seat and digs her hands into the sand, reaching cooler depths. "Put in a transfer? To here?" Surprise momentarily knocks back the heat of proddy, clearing green eyes that widen when turned to the bronzerider. "We are always in need of strong dragonriders, especially bronzeriders, D'ren." A little nibble of her lip before she queries faintly, "No more reason to visit Igen?" She turns her head back to the sand — sorry, D'ren is just too distracting for the moment — and seeks clarification, "Isn't your boy's mother back there?"

When Hannah digs her hands into the sand D'ren smiles, and does the same. Wiggling a bit to find a more comfortable seat, he starts to scoop out some to set in a pile to one side, revealing the damp sand beneath. "To here, yes," he says, green eyes glancing up to meet hers. Then he looks down again. "I am considering it. It might sound foolish but I miss my boy, and Southern has always been kind to us both." He is silent on the topic of Igen for a moment, smoothing out another section of sand upon which he begins to pile the damp, unearthed grains. "She is, but she and I are no longer…" He ponders over the word. "We disagree on far too many things and from what I've heard she has found herself another, so there is no reason for me to visit. She can come here to see Linden, I no longer need to take him there.'

"Will you miss Ista?" Hannah asks, digging her hands further into the sand, although her scoops are without purpose to build, they are simply to reach the cool, damp sand beneath. Sand that those puts on legs that get outstretched. It cools the fire that burns within. Momentarily, she's distracted by this, but she doesn't lose the vein of conversation. "Southern has always been kind to me as well," she answers with a soft smile. Though she pauses in her work to consider D'ren, "That is why we have dragons, after all. To be but three seconds away from our loved ones." Does a cheeky grin follow that? Perhaps, though she's once more digging in the sand. "Follow your heart, bronzerider." As if in remembrance of their last misunderstanding, she quirks a smile, adding, "On where you want to live."

D'ren considers that. "Perhaps," he finally answers, shaping those sand walls into the outside of a hold. "But my heart is with my family and my family is here." He smiles at her, chuckling. "Not in Igen, that is what my heart /and/ my head are telling me." Her cheeky grin is met with a slight head tilt of confusion, and then an easy smile. "I am considering it. Time will tell, especially after the hatching."

Forgive Hannah for her slightly erratic responses. She's not necessarily responsible for everything she does right now. Hence, why she slips back into sand playing. "It's a good reason to transfer," she answers, her own family close to her heart, "I'm sure Linden will be thrilled." Or maybe not, she's not had that much time to interact with the Candidates before Dhiammarath's glow hit her. "It's best to wait until the Leadership flight anyway," when he comments on considering it, "as right now things are unstable. Once things are again stable, transfers will be easier." Quietly stated, as if Hannah is already thinking ahead to what her life will change to. Even as she plops more cool sand on her knee.

D'ren nods. "Yes, I agree," he says, smiling after her. "It will depend on who wins the leadership flight as well. If, as you say, there are some who would not be well suited to Weyrleader. And then after the hatching. Then I will decide." He works on the walls of the hold, smoothing them and flattening their tops. "Are you excited to be Senior?" he asks quietly.

Hannah nods her head for his assessment, concentrating on the cool, darker-colored sand she's putting on her body. It's a private thing that he's considering, and she doesn't interfere into that. So she lets the silent sit until he's asking his question. A slip of laughter spills out and it's not harsh, but it's not happy either. "Truth be told?" she slants him a quick look. "I'm terrified." A shrug comes after, "But I think once it's happened? I might feel better. The lead up is doing nothing but tying my belly into knots."

D'ren watches her put sand on herself for a moment, and then he looks to the sea, and then back to her. "I can only imagine," he says quietly. "But if I may be so bold, the weyr is running fine even without leadership, and I'm sure once that's settled things will only continue. You seem to have good Juniors, and good Wingleaders. I'm sure you'll do very well." He looks at her and then the sea again. "Might it be cooler to take a dip in the water?" he suggests.

"I am confident," despite Hannah's professed terror, "that it will be as it's meant to be. I am strong enough, but…" She wobbles, unsure of herself and what's to come. "You could say I'm of two minds. My own and Dhiammarath's, and she is very, very sure that this is the right thing for us. It's bolstering." She doesn't notice his looks to the sea, content as she is in plastering her body with sand. "It would be, but…" The proddy goldrider bites her lip, "… it would also be torture. Water… is… " She swallows hard. "Very touchy. Goes… everywhere." Her cheeks might be a little pink for that explanation.

"And sand doesn't?" is D'ren's first baffled question. But /then/ he gets it, and he coughs. "I'm surprised you don't have Th'seus locked in your weyr at your beck and call," he murmurs. Ahem. Back to the sand hold. "Ah, yes. I know how that goes. It's difficult sometimes when they believe in you so much but you still have your doubts. Aikuonath thought we'd be wonderful at Weyrlingmaster but…it didn't go so well. But I'm sure Dhiammarath is correct in this one, and you will be an excellent Senior."

"Sand — " Hannah starts to say and then he gets it and she's ducking her head again. "I try, but the man has duties." The joking tone curls through the husky heat of her voice, as she clucks her tongue. "Turns out, Thread doesn't seem to care when I need to whet his wick." Dirty jokes slip free as Hannah's mind is of two places, but she controls it. It's like reigning in a bonfire: slow going and comes with a great expenditure of energy, but she does manage to pull herself in. She rubs the gritty sand across the inner curve of her knee, possibly pressing just a bit harder than necessary. "Sometimes, we would be good at something but it's just not time. And sometimes, it looks good from the outside until you're in it and it's not what you thought." She does turn back to D'ren, her emerald green eyes darker the pupils wider even with Rukbat's light shining so brightly. Hannah's gentleness is thinned to show hints of the feral creature that lurks within the tiny package, and it is hungry. But the smile she gives him is genuine and normal — well almost. "Thank you. I hope that I will be too."

D'ren chuckles. "Shame, that," he agrees, glancing skyward at the mention of thread, reaching over to absently rub his right shoulder. "Wise words, soon to be Senior. I'm sure you'll do just fine." He offers her another smile, eyes shifting a bit when he sees that hunger in her, and he swallows. Bending his head, he goes back to his sand hold, using a small stick to trace bricks in the inner courtyard. In the waters, Aikuonath rumbles and stretches his wings before he turns to paddle out into the open water, diving beneath the surface. A moment later he comes up with a fish which he tosses onto the sand with a low rumble. D'ren coughs. "For your queen, if she is hungry."

"Oh it's a shame. A very, very, very BIG shame." Innuendo much? Hannah can't seem to help it, though with the deep inhale and slow exhale, she gets over the worst of that little spell. D'ren isn't helping, but neither is the bronzerider that lurks in the bushes, watching them. Nor the brown dragon that flies overhead — never mind him, surely it's just a scouting mission. Aikuonath's tribute is watched with a softening expression, it peels back the heat to the woman beneath and she slips a look at the bronze's rider. "Tell him thank you. She will— " Her words are cute off when her great behemoth of a lifemate does swoop in, landing just long enough to take the tribute with the warble of a glowing queen. The honey'd gold that shades the tip of her tail is vibrant as the sun, the natural iridescence catching the light as the glow that limns her body cannot be denied. A fallen star, a pale queen, set to rise. Then she's taking back to the skies. "She is so beautiful when she's glowing. Sometimes, in the midst of it all, I forget that."

D'ren chuckles a bit, letting her innuendo slide without him adding to it. Bronzeriders in the bushes? How rude. "I will. He says it was his honor and he's happy to fish for more if she wishes it. He likes fishing," he adds a touch sheepishly. He can't hold back a soft gasp when the pale queen arrives. "Shards and shells, Hannah, she's stunning. Absolutely beautiful, just like her rider." Shit did he say that?

Swallowing hard, Hannah's proximity to her lifemate ups the ante, so to speak. There are more reasons than the male dragons lurking that send the pale queen off. The junior has to put her hand to the sand, clenching her fists around the wet grains, to gain her center. She gasps lightly, though when she turns to eye D'ren, there's a moment she's lost to whatever is happening internally between dragon and rider. All feral predation in those big green eyes of hers, pupils dilated, mouth opened slightly. But then Dhiammarath's pathway takes her high, high, high up to the skies and she regains a measure of control. "Maybe… later," she answers weakly, slowly unclenching her fists. Quietly, more than a hint of feral midnight curling through the heat of husky voice, she says, "Thank you." For his compliment. It's easy to lose control of one's own tongue. "Sorry…" she waves a hand. "It is overwhelming when she's close. It's harder to shut out. It's harder to stem the flow of…" Sex? Heat? Lust? She doesn't say. "He is a fine," topic change! "… fisherdragon." Yes, she totally just made a word up.

D'ren nods his head a little bit, looking concerned. "Should…I mean no disrespect, but should you be out in public like this?" he asks gently. "Perhaps I should escort you back to your weyr…" That's a good idea, right? He offers her the water skin again. "Thank you, he's had plenty of practice." An automatic response, rote, without much thought behind it.

"I can't stay cooped up in my weyr," Hannah answers, more grounded than she was a second before as her lifemate's influence diminishes with space. "I would go mad, and if you escorted me there, I would have a whole lot of males trying to fight their way into my weyr and I don't want any of them breaching that place." She softens her denial with a smile, "Besides, the sand is cool and I am already feeling better. It won't be long now." Not that she gives any hints as to what that means, but it is something she holds onto.

Hello, double entendre. It makes D'ren blush a little. "Can't have that," he murmurs. "Alright. I'm glad you're feeling better." He returns to the sand hold. "By the looks of her, no, it won't be much longer at all."

For the double entendre, there is only the heat of a look. "She is a lady, my girl. She waits for the right moment, for everything to be in place. It's like she's waiting for something…" Hannah shrugs, momentarily caught up in Dhiammarath's thoughts in this. "I don't breach our bond too much during these last days of her cycle. Not unless I want to invite all of that heated proddy into me, which normally, I don't." But hey, maybe Th'seus gets some extra fun time at night. "It has made it hard to focus on work, to say the least. Hey, that's a good sand hold."

D'ren nods. "Perhaps she is waiting for the right bronze to arrive at the weyr?" he says thoughtfully, pondering that possibility. "Is there no satisfaction in it? It's more like…a fire? Consuming?" He looks back at his hold with a little smile. "Thanks. Linden's better than I am though. The kid can make /arches/. Still don't know how he does it."

"I don't know. She is a Lady in waiting," Hannah comments. "Maybe she waits for the right male," she murmurs thoughtfully. Then D'ren asks her the question and she takes a moment to think. Packing the cool sand against hot skin. "No, D'ren. It's too satisfying. It's like being filled with a rush of heat and sex like you've never felt before. Caressed from the inside until you think your skin is going to split open and everything spill out. It's too big to hold onto, and it rushes through your body bringing you to the point. The point of release, but you hover there. In that moment of utter ecstasy without ever reaching the point of fulfillment. Everything is on fire and I can't breath because it feels so good. It is the biggest rush, and also once opened, it is very, very, very, very hard to regain control." Rueful is the look she turns to D'ren, but there's heat there too. So much heat behind those eyes. "Because it doesn't stop. Sex doesn't stop it. Orgasm doesn't stop it. It keeps coming until you think you might be driven mad with pleasure." She shrugs, "That is how it is with me, that is. Perhaps others have a different experience? I've never really asked."

D'ren listens, watching the goldrider as she explains. "Shards," he whispers. "That sounds…" How does it /really/ sound? "Agonizing." There's a slow shake of his head. "I don't think I've met anyone who has that experience with it. Linny would just get really horny and try to sleep with everyone…" He looks back at the sand hold.

"It is agonizing, before the flight," Hannah answers, evenly. "But when the flight comes?" Another double entendre here? "It's something else, besides. Because it's time. And I revel in the glory of Dhiammarath, fly for the glory of my queen. And I can feel it because it's not too much then. Because she can fly and… it's time." Lamely as that last is stated, it's just so true. "It's the most wonderful experience I ever have in my life. Each time is different, but it's all the same too. Just the days that come right before are hard." She bites her lip, "Then again, it's not that hard and I can certainly manage. And everything also feels so damn good." Plucking up a bit of leaf that got stuck in the sand, she trails it over the top of her forearm and closes her eyes. Seemingly to revel in the touch of something so simple as a leaf, but it's playing with fire so after a moment she flicks it away. "You males have it so much simpler. Just gotta come," har, har, "for the flight." Now that last is teasing. "So Linden can make arches, huh?"

D'ren watches her, nodding his head and smiling slowly. "She is a glorious queen," he says quietly. "You're strong enough to handle it. That's why she chose you. Because you could handle her and let her be free." He watches that leaf on her forearm and bites his lower lip, knowing she's teasing herself and yet he can't say anything to stop it. He's relieved when she flicks it away though. "I never thought we had it easy. The losses are very hard to take, but. Compared to what you have to do, I'm very glad Aik doesn't go proddy. I can't imagine." His hand absently rubs his arm and he smirks at her. "Just gotta come." There's a wink, and then a nod. "Yes. Arches of nothing but sand. Towers, too, and…I don't know how the kid does it."

"Maybe it's stronger for her and me than others? I don't particularly want to have sex with everything that moves," Hannah confesses, "But sometimes, it's like I can't help but want the riders of the strong males." Her lips curl into a smile, watching him rub his arm. "Lowest of lows do come with the highest of highs," she quips, adding husky laughter to that before she's back to layering sand on her body. "Because," she states, "children are geniuses. We lose that ability to dream and fabricate whole worlds out of nothing but words as we get older. Children… they just are special, you know? It's like they see things that adults can't."

D'ren nods. "As you should? I mean…it's what she is after, and perhaps this is her chance - through you - to weed out the strong from the weak." He smiles back at her, not /quite/ sure where he falls in that. "Don't they always," he chuckles, watching her layer on the sand, and helpfully pushing some of the damp and cool sand from his sand-hole towards her. "They are extremely special. I've been thinking about what you said," he admits, "last time we visited, and I do think I'm going to try and have another child. When I find a woman willing, of course." He's not the sort of man to just stop taking his 'stuff and not tell anyone. "I'm not convinced they /don't/ see things we can't."

Hannah gives D'ren a sly look, not at all looking to give the male — he is, in fact, still a male — a hint of his ranking on the scale of weak and strong. "Mmmmm," that would be her only response to him on that, before she's scooping more of that cool sand and placing it on her chest now, just beneath her throat. "Good for you. I think you would be happier with more children, D'ren." Not that she knows him all *that* well, but she's getting to. "I'm sure there is a woman out there willing. You've got good strengths." Says the woman currently measuring males (well, dragons mostly) for their, ah, strengths.

D'ren looks at that sand on Hannah's chest, and then looks away. Ahem. He looks out at Aikuonath, the bronze still swimming around in the depths of the sea. "I think I would be too," he says, and for a moment there's a wistful smile on his lips, before he's laughing. "Thanks, Hannah, ma'am, but I think you're a *bit* biased right now towards anything with a penis."

"Perhaps so, D'ren, perhaps so," Hannah laughs, and it's a freeing laugh as she presses more cool sand to the pale expanse of chest and throat. She does not intentionally entice, that much is at least true. She's literally covering her body with the cool, wet sand. It's helping, really. Next up are her arms, fingers tracing the grains of sand down them. "Maybe you'll even find someone here. Another reason to stay in our fair, tropical climate?" Brow-quirk.

D'ren chuckles, looking around. "Perhaps," he allows with a dip of his head. "There's no shortage of women, that's for sure." He smiles. "Time will tell. After the flight, after the hatching, then I will worry about myself and where I should be."

"We have a lovely dragonrider here by the name of Yules…" Hannah starts to say, some hint of her desire to play matchmaker coming to play, but she settles back to covering herself with sand. "Good plan, good plan." A smile is flashed before she turns back to the sand, sighing a little. The sound of the gently lapping sea and the breezes that ruffle through the vegetation. It is a lovely day.
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