Glider [OPEN]

[Anonymous]

It was such an odd feeling. It didn’t quite belong. But Windra … well, she wasn’t complaining a whole hell of a lot. Most of the creature’s life was made up of searching for something stupid and unreasonable: flights of whimsy that refused to appear and become real. C’est la vie, or something. But whenever desire came calling, the draco had to answer. Because she just had to. Similar to the impulsion that drove geese to fly south for the winter, Windra would not be able to turn down this strange chance … But at least this time she had a heading. And it came in the form of a vaguely familiar smell. Vague, in the sense that it had been millions of years since she was graced by it. And that one time so long ago had been at the moment of her undoing …

Roose offered up something and Windra bent down her great head to look at it. A crystal, so small she could suck it up in her nostril and that would be the end of that (a snort of dry humor). But going by the definition presented, the vulturous creature of myth was grateful, and she extended a smooth claw on which to rest the gem on. From there she clasped it, stared at it … and finally hid it amidst the brown feathers that covered the expanse of her thick, muscular body.

“An offer I will hold onto, friend … Roose Hurro.” And she bowed, bright orbs tinkling away. They were hazel: green with the pupil centered about a brown ring. “But if you wish for a small journey – might lead to nowhere, so I’m letting you know now that it could be total hogwash … “ And she turned, belly low to the ground. Wings spread out wide with the white feathertips striking forth. Her back … exposed. And large enough to allow the admission of two or three Rooses. Obviously it was an invitation for him to climb on. “Make your choice, and on a quick search we will go.”

[Anonymous]

It was such an odd feeling.  To be so close to a female with wings.  To feel her touch, if only for a second... but Roose could see the light in her eyes, those Windows to the Soul.  So close.  His own bright emerald green eyes faintly specked with amber yellow.  His own Soul pleased to see her brightness.  Ears, to hear her call him "friend"....

And then...

... she...

... she offered to carry him.  On her own back.

Green eyes wide, mouth open then shut with a soft huff, Roose dashed for the rest of his clothing and gear.  Heart, racing a bit.  Lungs, taking in a bit more air with every breath.  Colorful masculine feelers slid out a bit in surprise.   Comment on his lips, as he quickly fumbled with the clasps on his short pants...

...  "Hogwash?  I like freshly cleaned pork...."

A grin cast over shoulder, a lick to lips, as he fastened his belt and waved his tail...

...  "If your small journey leads nowhere, I will be there to comfort you... if it leads to something good, I will be there to celebrate with you.  If... if it leads to something bad, I will be there to protect you, also."

Roose crouched down one more time, to retrieve his Boonwood staff.  Hesitated, touched and stroked it briefly, then grasped it and returned to Windra's side.  Staff held horizontal in a two-handed clasp, he bowed, then swiftly and gently took the offered seat.  First class, all the way.........

[Anonymous]

For Windra ... well, she saw nothing wrong with it. A dragon was a dragon. They had wings. There was no awkwardness when lingering about other beasts who had the same appendages. To draco, it meant only one thing: the ability to fly. haring that prowess with other races was a pleasure, something that made hearts swell with proud feelings of accomplishment - masters of the sky, all over the place! Of course, in her mind's eye ... the flying lizards would always be the supreme overlords of atmos ... the grandeur masters. But there was no opposition when it came to having to share that title with another!

If anything, it meant more companions to race with!

She did blink a little at his strange reaction to her offering. Abashed, to be given a ride? What was wrong with being a horse for a rider? Tamer dragons loved to escort those who could not soar. It was a show of ... respect, you could say. That and Windra had no idea how fast Roose traveled with his own wings. And besides, she had more reliance on her own abilities. Plus she knew these air currents better than the alien. Roose could hit a pocket of venomous air drifting from the Wastelands, and not even realize it until her was grabbing at his throat, asphyxiating!

"Blasphemy!" said feathered lizard to peculiar beast as he climbed upon her back, legs hitched on either side of a thick thoracic spine. Her wings, which did not fully extend, did so now. They pumped, massive scapular muscles shifting beneath the 'Twill's knees. Up, forward, down, backward ... Immense motions with enough force held within to actually lift cathartes draco first two feet, then ten, then thirty. "This isn't the first time I've gone on some ridiculous little scope of the land, only to find a pebble to feed my curiosity. Whatever it leads to, let's just hope its something ... nifty."

Nifty could mean a lot of things. As she turned  in the right direction and dipped her upper body slightly to aid in propulsion, Windra added:

"Better be a sheep. I'm itching for some cooked lamb about now."

[Anonymous]

It wasn't wrong, it was... just odd.  Wings on a female.  'Twill were 'Twill, yes, but only mature males had wings.  And a male's wings were not intended for flight.  Too small, too stubby.  No, they functioned as a means of display.  To attract females.  To... attract a mate.  Babe magnets.  Roose thought of them in that manner, took great pride in the condition of his wings, all so he could display them for Chorri.  Show her how much he loved her.  Wings in 'Twill culture had a far different function and deeper meaning than just pure flight.  Cultural traditions and biological imperatives drove Roose's natural internal feelings on the matter of wings, both his own and those of others.  Other male 'Twill.  Competition.  Female 'Twill, the prize, if you will.  Females with wings?  Biological confusion.  Culturally awkward, even when attached to another species.  Even when he knew it didn't matter.  Other species, other cultures.  But this knowledge still didn't smother the awkwardness or the confusion he felt, inside.  All he could do?  Brace himself, and bear the discomforts like a mature adult.  A sexually frustrated mature male adult 'Twill.

At least this wasn't as bad as the four weeks spent growing his wings....

Yes, he would live through this....

Thoughts and feelings all aswirl, Roose did what he always did, to calm his insides.  Remember Chorri.  Even further, he allowed his aura to blend with Windra's, so they would be attuned as one to the air.  Ahhh... yet what a wonderful skyborne view!  Warmth, rising from Windra's back through him.  Feel of her muscle's movements, of feathers and bone and heartbeat and breath.  Her patterns... his patterns.  Linked, yes, but only on the surface, so his instincts and her instincts would blend.  Her, the perfect mount.  Him, the perfect rider.  Her, none the wiser, perhaps?  Unable to perceive what a 'Twill perceived.  Unable to feel the flow of life in quite the same way.  Unaware of the natural, instinctive interaction of her pattern with his, all so his presense as rider didn't distrupt her place as flyer.  Yin.  Yang.  In balance.  Very Zen.

Bit by bit, Roose had to learn discipline and control, to hold his power in check, so as not to cause harm.  The very reason he traveled alone, his slideship GreenDay his only living companion...

...  "Pebble?"

His voice raised against the wind of their travel, that very wind ruffling his fur with pleasure, Roose sounded a bit...

...  "I very much hope it is a sheep... or something more exciting than possible roasted meat."

A big grin, ears turned back, body leaned forwards...

...  "I'd hate to think this urgent journey only has lunch at the end of it........."