Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
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Seduction of Nrararn and Osoth (Day 37) (Mating Flight 47/240)

Seduction of Nrararn and Osoth (Day 37)

This morning I was flomped on the mountain I had melted, writing about yesterday. Nrararn and Osoth circled overhead twice side by side, and flew down to land on either side of me.

I was instantly suspicious of them.

Always when drakes are together on a mating flight, they’re contesting with each other at least a little bit. (Me and Arilash too, in principle, but see Day 32 about how that is going.) So, usually they’ll be racing a bit, each one trying to get there first. Or maybe each one trying to fly higher than the other, in case there’s an excuse to have a fight. Or whatever.

Nrararn and Osoth were just, well, flying side by side, without any of that.

I lifted my chin off the frozen lava and peered at them. “You’re looking inordinately peaceful today.”

“In matters of love and marriage, our contest is as bitter and dire as any that this dragonless world has ever seen! Yet, somehow, there is an entire world beneath our wings, to observe, to explore, to sift for secrets,” said Osoth.

“What oblique, obscure, occult Osoth isn’t saying is, we’ve found the stars here, or some of them anyways. Want to see them with us?” said Nrararn.

“The stars? Were they missing? … This is a Typical Toroid. There aren’t supposed to be any stars,” I said. “There’s no sky that isn’t Hove for them to be in.”

“Right, but we found some anyways. Come see!” said Nrararn, as if that explained everything.

I puffed sparks of lightning at Nrararn. “You’re just trying to get me to spread my claspers for you again.”

“The effects of the celestial realm may be mirrored in the terrestrial in divers ways. The fecundity and humidity that lie at the heart of the natural world may, perhaps, be among them.”

“He said ‘yes’. In a truly beautiful place, if our stolen hoven tourist guidebooks are any indication,” said Nrararn “Got any better plans for the day?”

I didn’t.

They were acting quite odd on the way.

“How much further are these stars?” I asked. “We’ve been flying a while.” The while was well over an hour by that point, and we were still over wild and apparently star-free lands.

“We could fly all the way across the sky to the land on the other side!” said Nrararn. “There’s air all the way.”

“Wise, wise sky-mage, to answer the question only with praises of his chosen domain!” said Osoth. Then he blinked. “Which is to say, rather, that though we could fly across the sky, in this instance there is no need to. Another third of an hour will bring us there.”

“Are your wings tired?” asked Nrararn, with a pointed look at Osoth.

“For if they are, Nrararn could surely conjure a comfortable wind, fast as a tempest, gentle as a breeze, letting us fly there with only a moderate delay and much less effort,” said Osoth. “Such are the powers of sky magic.”

So strange, hearing one of my fiancés praise another one. Very suspicious!

Originally published at Mating Flight. You can comment here or there.

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