Delilah is kneeling next to a chair containing a little girl toddler. From the looks of it it seems she's trying to coax the child into eating her roots.

G'nar comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

"Oh happy days," Henard comes into the caverns, a muted baritone voice singing lightly. He's come to check on the fields at Ista Weyr. And also in hopes of catching a glimpse of that special woman, it's been rumored he's hanging around to see. "Klah, gotta have that," he grins and heads over for the drink table that has that wonderful, fresh brew. "Oh hoesticks," he picks up the pot. Empty. He tilts it up and and over, as if searching for even a drop of klah.

Kassandra comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

T'yari lounges in a chair, center-stage; the normally shy greenrider is quite happy to be in the middle of the room, for once, and quite possibly the center of attention. Those entering are watched as he leans back dangerously in his chair, balancing the back against the table's edge and teetering on only two legs. "Hi," he chirps cheerily.

Happy days indeed. Oh look at that! A wonderful fresh pot of klah placed down in front of him even as the old one is tilted up empty. "Life saver!" Henard grins to the servant who just gives him a strange look. He pours himself a cup of klah. "Now if you could tell me where I might find the weyrwoman at this hour I'd be even more happier." That goes unanswered, the poor boy running off to do his chores and get away from the farmer who's a little too enthusiastic.

Kassandra wanders into the living caverns, one hand stuffed in a pocket, the other shoving that mop of sunstreaked amber hair out of her face. The Balancing T'yari (action figure available by Christmas) is noted and smirked at, before she turns her attention to G'nar. "How're you feeling?"

G'nar wanders into the caverns after Kassandra, blushing at her question, not to mention the smirk. "I feel fine...." He mutters, eyeing T'yari with wariness. "Never better, in fact."

Delilah looks up, with a little wave to all those she never noticed before. "Hello." when she turns her head, the little girl gets a chance to thppt her mouthful of chewed up fingerroots all over the nannys neck and hair. Ewwww.

T'yari only gets a smirk? The horrors. The greenrider shoots a wounded look at Kassandra, sniffing, before a faintly envious one is slanted G'nar's way -- /he/ wants the attention, dangit. The other two legs resettle onto the floor with a thump, and Yari springs out of his chair -- too confining, that -- to relocate to a tabletop where he perches, legs swinging freely. "I bet I could make it better," he innocently informs G'nar with a charming little grin; then, the greenrider looks towards the Bowl, distracted. Mood swing: irritably, he grumbles, "/She/ would have to arrive."

Kassandra cannot help the fact that...well. Perhaps she can. In fact, it's highly likely she can. But she didn't want to. "Good to hear," she directs at G'nar, giving the brownrider an encouraging smile before grinning broadly at T'yari the Balancing Fool (expansion kit for the action figure due out by next Christmas). "Bet you could too, Yari."

Nediath> Nediath, indeed, has arrived -- she slips over towards the caverns from the other side of the Bowl, leaving a couple blues behind. They got boring, and variance is the spice of life. Right? She certainly thinks so, and offers up a flirtatious croon to those present as she enters range. Nediath's here. Adore her.

Nediath> Didarath isn't quite in the mood to adore. He's not that type of dragon. Intense regard, yes. But still, he remains cool, contemplative, and very calm indeed. There will be later need for fire and tempest.

Nediath> Davoth is all for adoring, especially greens who seem eager for attention. He croons low, the sound somewhat...crude, suggestive of less than gentlemanly thoughts.

G'nar grins at Kassandra, moving up behind her and touching a blonde tendril before his hand drops and he blushes again, shooting a glare in T'yari's direction, then sighing. "I'm not sure you could improve on it, Yari..." He murmurs, adding a chuckle. "Despite Kass' vote of confidence."

"Stupid green. Stop telling me what to do," T'yari loudly directs towards the Bowl, showering his unseen lifemate with a glower or two. Then, focus switches back to the people in the caverns. Kassandra is the recepient of a pleased beam, and he swings his legs a few times before glancing towards G'nar and trying out one of those pouts -- he's been working on them. "What? You don't think so? Maybe you should let me try. Never know."

Nediath> Inkynath drops from above, wings spread to alight to a safe landing in the farther regions of the bowl. His rider, Hana clings to the straps momentarily before she slips down Inkynath's foreleg. Rider heads for the cavern tunnels in search of food. Her dragon, however has other things in mind. Inkynath senses it. What the others do. He ambles over towards the clustered dragons, including Nediath. A croon of invitation is given to her, because he has a warm wing and she could cuddle so nicely under it.

Kassandra is trying not to laugh. She's managing somehow to succeed, despite the incredible provocation of T'yari acting like a total idiot. Proddiness is -so- much fun! The gentle touch to her hair brings a warm smile from the erstwhile Wingleader, and one hand reaches out to gently settle on G'nar's elbow. "Now that I'm really glad to hear," she notes quietly.

Nediath> But Nediath wants to be adored. And when that's not what she receives from Didarath, the green is decidedly miffed and concentrates her attention elsewhere: namely, Davoth. He's more fun. The green keeps her distance, though, for the time-being, and only voices a coy note that runs in the same vein. But, then, distraction is presented in the form of Inkynath, and she responds with a similar croon.

G'nar doesn't look as if he's likely to give in to pouts, and just looks at T'yari with certain amusement mixed with embarrassement at being hounded by the greenrider, although he smiles almost tenderly at Kass "Aye...." he murmurs, looking down at the hand on his elbow. "I don't think anything could be as good as last night."

And what to their wondering eyes should appear? But Hana the rider and she doesn't look dear. No in fact, she looks quite different as her gaze seeks out and locks on T'yari. Aquamarine eyes narrow in cool blue ice, none of the warmth she displayed for the women's flights as opportune in her. "Hello greenrider," she says to him, her voice somewhat sultry, almost an echo like Inkynath's but not given as willingly.

Nediath> Davoth glares at the other males, then goes back to crooning smoozy pick-up tones at Nediath, shifting his weight and trying to look as masculine as possible. The ladies like a macho man, after all.

T'yari absolutely did not want to hear that -- from either of them. So, peevish, the greenrider just glowers at both Kassandra and G'nar and crosses his arms over his chest, irritably glaring at a spot on the far wall. Gaze flickers to Hana, momentarily, and the greenrider snaps in a tone countering those previously voiced, "Go away."

Nediath> Didarath would sigh if he could. Instead, he just rumbles something uncomplimentary at the so-called 'macho man' that is Davoth. Give me a -break-. Didarath does not try to woo the green. Oh no. That is for later. Like when she's in the air. For now, he watches and waits.

Nediath> Encouraged by that croon from the delicate and luscious green, Inkynath ambles closer. One wing shifts outward and up, extending a physical gesture to that offer of keeping her quite warm. He rumbles at Davoth almost posessively of Nediath.

Kassandra very nearly glows up at G'nar. "Good, 'cause I happen to agree," she murmurs, very pointedly ignoring T'yari in favor of the tall brownrider who's currently got her attention. Glower? What glower? Nobody's glowering that she can see. Nope. "And all that being afraid was for utterly nothing."

G'nar is beaming, straightening to his full height and looking for all the world like a puffed up wherry, although he is soon deflated by the activities in the bowl, and the particular brown behaving like a complete ninny. "Shells....Davoth would you.." the rest is left unsaid in verbal tones, and he smiles at Kass apologetically "I'm sorry...he's being..." Randy. Smarmy. Davoth. His gaze goes to T'yari, and he's back to glaring "And it's all his fault." Grump.

Nediath> Nediath doesn't want to be possessed, though, and so edges away from Inkynath -- flirtation's all fine and good, but anything else is another subject. She just likes to toy with all these males and size them up. Therefore, Davoth's musculature is admired with a glamorous, sensual croon that's likely to draw her lifemate's disapproval in his current frame of mind. But she hardly cares about that.

"Why would I want to go away? Perhaps because you are male?" Hana's voice is no less seductive than when she tries seducing the women of the weyr. But she doesn't look pleased by her body's growing awareness of Nediath's rider, just as Inkynath is perhaps aware of Nediath.

Nediath> Davoth poses, chest swelling and wings flexing - you can almost see the multiple gold chains and the white John Travolta leisure suit as he croons, eyes flashing with that smarmy smiling expression as he sways seductively towards Nediath. The other males are ignored. He's giving it alll to the laaaady.

T'yari glares right back at G'nar and shortly intones, "It is /not/ my fault." It's Nediath's fault. "It's your own fault that you can't appreciate good...good things." In Yari's moment of PMS-y annoyance, Kassandra is obviously grouped in the category of 'bad.' "So don't you /dare/ go blaming me." Whatever else the greenrider was about to icily shoot at G'nar is cut short as he peers back towards Hana. "Because I said so."

"That is not a good enough answer," Hana shakes her head. She eyes T'yari somewhat like a piece of .. meat one doesn't want to eat, but is forced to look at due to extenuating circumstances. Those circumstances being Inkynath whose hormones have elated, then deflated as rejection is given.

Kassandra chuckles deep in her throat at G'nar's comment. "I know perfectly well what Davoth is doing," she notes quietly, but not without a grin. "Just deal with it. It'll all be over soon enough." At least, she hopes so. "Didarath just doesn't flirt like that, you know. I lucked out." Indeed. "It'll be all right. I promise."

Nediath> Inkynath lowers his wing, still looking at Nediath even after that obvious brush off. He rumbles a challenge that no doubt he will pursue her and win her and then she will want to be lazy and lax with him for days after cuddling. She will be under his wing alot then. So confident he sounds.

Nediath> Didarath is just sitting there, though his tail is whipping back and forth rather excessively. It's the only outward sign of increasing agitation and interest. Otherwise, he might as well be a cobalt statue.

G'nar gives Kassandra a disgusted look in between cringing at Davoth's slimy behavior and glaring at T'yari. "Well, it may be Nediath's fault, but you are the one who's been fluttering his eye lashes at me." Is noted in argumentative tones. "And I can't deal with it, Kass." this opined to the blue rider, "Until last night, I had no idea what -" He breaks off, flushing.

Nediath> Nediath is, most definitely, a lady. Maybe she's a skanky, sassy lady, but she's a lady nonetheless. She subsides, however, mood shifting to match her lifemate's more closely, and the green twitches restlessly.

Nediath> Davoth isn't picky - the skankier the better...as long as they are female. He's also not all that sensitive to mood changes. He goes right on flirting in his smarmy way, despite Nediath's own swinging emotions. Ooooo baby. Hubba hubba.

Nediath> Didarath would roll his eyes if he could at Davoth the slimeball. Ugh. Instead, he just watches. And waits. And watches some more.

"Of course it is." T'yari attempts to shoo Hana off with a quick flick of his rest -- she's dismissed. Then, it's back to scowling fiercely at G'nar. "You just can't deal with it," he challenges haughtily, slanting grumpy looks at all those present.

Kassandra holds up one finger to cut off G'nar's anxious commentary. "Hush. I know you're worried. I'll try to keep you from fretting too much, but if Davoth wins...I can't really help you, I'm afraid. I wish I could." Genuine regret colors her voice. "Just look at me instead of at him until Nediath goes up, okay?"

G'nar looks absolutely horrified at the thought of Davoth winning, although it has nothing to do with T'yari. "Kass...I can't stop him, can I?" is murmured, hope surging to the fore for a brief second before being erased forever by a firm comment from Davoth "No, I can't. I'll have to deal with it." He turns to glare at T'yari again, disregarding the challenge, and then slumps into a chair. "Maybe I should have something to drink." Yes, that's it. Wine. Lots of it.

Henard watches those present and then grins as a feline races by. He stoops and clucks his tongue at the large beast. "Here kitty kitty," he calls out. The cat turns, and Henard finds a meatpiece to offer the feline. It ventures closer and soon he's able to pick the cat up, only a feat a large man can do for those oversized "housecats". "Good kitty." He pets it.

T'yari lapses into sulky silence, broodily tapping fingers against the tabletop and refusing to look at the others present in the caverns. They can oogle him, not the other way around.

"No, you can't," is Kassandra's resigned answer. "And you aren't getting drunk before the flight." Firm, she is. Very firm. "Afterward, yes, but not before, okay? You won't like the end results. Just...G'nar, please. Trust me. It'll be -all right-." She hopes.

Mishar comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

G'nar isn't at all convinced, nope. He slumps in his chair, looking miserable - in complete contrast to his dragon, who is in fine form. "Fine...." Is muttered to Kass' insistent lecturing - he hunches, glaring at T'yari as he tries to ignore those sharding emotions that Davoth is making him feel.

Moving on measured steps, Mishar makes his inconspicuous entrance. One hand hooked in a pocket, he moves firstly to attain a cup of citron juice; that done, almond brown eyes sweep quickly across the room. A meek, "Evening," is his only pleasantry as he slides with unceremonious grace into the nearest chair of vacancy.

Nediath> Nediath's restlessness shifts into something else: an itching desire to get /away./ So, without any sort of farewell, she takes to the skies and abandons the other dragons to do what they will -- herself, she heads for the feeding grounds.

"Oh, shard it shard it shard it." Without any sort of warning, T'yari explodes into very un-Yari like language. Hopping down from his table, he shoots a glare at Kassandra and G'nar, practically snarling, "It's all /your/ fault." And with that, he makes like his dragon and flees.

Kassandra was waiting for that, even though she'd like everyone to believe she wasn't. "Come on, G'nar. Let's go." She claims the brownrider's hand for her own, a strange intensity glowing in those cornflowered eyes of hers.

G'nar looks up, suddenly aware that the one he's been glaring at is gone, and..."Shells....now?" But he's on his feet, and following Kassandra, a look of dread mingling with the beginnings of dragon-fed need on his face.

Southern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#69RJ$)
     Spread out along the larger end of the caldera, this end of the bowl is significantly larger than that which lies just beyond the small inlet of two feet of craggy mountains that creep down to form an incomplete partition. The walls of the ancient volcano, long-since slumbering inactive, spread upward with sheer cliffaces that reach into the sky, their outlines reminiscent of four pointed fingers and a thumb. Activity bustles in this area at nearly all hours of the day with dragons or people coming and going throughout the bowl on various errands.
     Tucked into the southernmost wall are the living caverns, the gaping tunnel that leads within illuminated by the glowbaskets set within; just beside this is a larger entrance that leads to the dragon infirmary. The Hatching grounds are found in this area, with a tunnel a ground level just large enough to allow passage for an egg-heavy Queen and a larger, gaping entrance in the side of the mountain for draconic spectators to enter. Numerous weyrs dot the mountainside and the ground in this area, some darkened and some illuminated from within.
 

Kassandra comes out of the narrow tunnel from the living caverns.
G'nar comes out of the narrow tunnel from the living caverns.

Nediath> Didarath wastes no time in flattening his first victim, a fat wherry. Without further ado, the blue goes to work on draining the thing dry, tossing it aside in favor of another bird as soon as the first shows no signs of having a drop of blood left in it.

Nediath> Nediath isn't picky -- she goes for the first thing that catches her attention. Abruptly, the green folds her wings and plummets towards the pens below, snagging a herdbeast that barely has time to bawl once in fright before it's crushed beneath the oppressive weight of the swooping dragon. As she crouches to feed -- no, drink, -- Nediath shoots a possessive, pissed-off look at the males, and hunkers over her prey.

Nediath> Davoth isn't going to get himself all ooky with blood right now, not when he's got to show style and all. No, he blooded earlier, and he's ready to go - but he waits, crooning and posing just in case Nediath pays any attention - waits for when she is finished feasting and flies...so he can follow.

Nediath> Didarath quickly drains beast two, following it with three and four in short order. A small pile of wherry carcasses is evidence to his blooding frenzy, but still something calculatedly determined looms in his every movement. He's not about to lose this.

"Go /away!/" That's T'yari's almost whiny plea as he races from caverns to bowl, pausing only to shoot a look that borders on desperate over his shoulder. "Oh, shards --" He forgets the others, plants hands on hips, and scowls in the general direction of the pens. "Stupid, stupid dragon -- I am /never/ going to forgive you. Ever."

Kassandra still has G'nar's hand caught in her own. Her attention is firmly -not- on T'yari, though. Oh, no. It's split between Didarath and G'nar equally. "You can do this, G'nar," she murmurs. "You can."

G'nar is being literally tugged by Kassandra, if one must admit the truth - despite his dragon's obvious excitement, he doesn't seem to be sharing it at all...."I have no choice, is what you mean." But his gaze keeps going to T'yari for some reason.

Nediath> Nediath loses all interest in the males, for now, and remains fixated on draining dry the carcass she's claimed as her own. When the rouge-stained muzzle lifts, it's only so Nediath can spy out another victim. The first is left where it lies as the green takes down her second, casually pouncing with an audible crack of breaking bones -- the herdbeast's, not hers.

"Stupid, sharding dragon," T'yari rants, still glowering heatedly at the green that he can't see from this range. "I am so, so, /so/ mad at you. Go to your weyr. Right now. And /stay/ there." The young man's efforts are in vain, though, and he eventually abandons that tactic. And runs. Unfortunately for him, his hiding place is the exact spot that anyone who's got any sort of sense would think to look for him. Too bad.

Kassandra is solely attentive on her lifemate right now. "No, you can't stop it," is her blunt commentary to G'nar, as Didarath disembowels beast number five. "That's got to be enough..." she mutters under her breath.

G'nar has gone silent, not listening to Kass anymore, his attention fixed on Davoth and on T'yari, his expression evidence of his warring emotions.
You head over to the slightly detached area of the bowl that houses the ground weyrs and the council room.

Nediath> Davoth has interest in one thing, and one thing only. Nediath. Her glowing form is the only thing he'll respond to at this point and his wings flare as he tries to contain his emotions as well a show off his physique.

Guest Weyr - Ista Weyr
     Sparse but comfortably furnished, this adequately sized dwelling houses all the necessities for a temporary existence. Just large enough for a bronze to work his way within, it seems the environs are meant less for draconic inhabitants than human ones, for one will not find the requisite stone couch before a hearth within. No, instead one happens across a lavishly bedecked bed, piled high with bedclothes and pillows and settled into an elaborately carved, four-poster wooden bed. On either side of this are inviting wingchairs, pleasantly stuffed with black fabric illuminated by gold-embroidered thread.
     Likewise filling the recesses is a great, wooden wardrobe in a style that mirrors the bed, metal knobs opening to reveal plenty of closet and drawer space. Near this is a large wooden table surrounded by four, high-backed chairs and resting on a handsomely woven rug of the same gold-and-black motif. Benches and stools are to be found scattered about, as well as a few abandoned wineskins which sneak in despite the regular cleaning this guest weyr receives.

Nediath> Didarath just...waits. Just waits and bides his time. Soon, she'll fly, and soon, he'll be in the air after her. Blooding is a thing of the past now.

Nediath> Nediath goes, alright. But not to her weyr -- oh no. She goes straight up, ditching the feeding pens for the sky. 'Sails and 'spars glint, the green's wings propelling her upwards as she escapes the confines of gravity. Scornful, she spurns those who would bring her down with a raucous, racy bugle; then, her freedom steals her attention away, and the green focuses instead on flight. Up, up, and away -- if Nediath has her way, there won't be any return to the earth, either.
Nediath> You spring aloft into the sky over the Istan bowl.

Kassandra heads in through the tunnel from the bowl.
G'nar heads in through the tunnel from the bowl.

G'nar stumbles into the weyr just as Nediath goes up. His eyes go wide, and his stare is riveted on T'yari, his last resistance to Davoth's lust crumbling as he suddenly let's go, soaring with his dragon. "Yes...." is whispered hoarsely, exultantly.

Kassandra has done this before. Many times before. So she knows what to do. What that is is just...sit here. By the wall. Nice and quiet and all that.

T'yari got found, and doesn't look very pleased about that. The greenrider scruptiously avoids that big bed, and hides in the opposite corner instead, arms wrapped protectively around his knees. But after the initial half-angry, half-frightened, half-dismayed (three halves?) look, Yari's gaze grows vacant, and he stares off into space, losing awareness of 'here.'

Nediath> Didarath is in the air, but is also biding his time. He's not about to waste precious energy in the early stages of the flight. Rather, he soars along, below the pack of chasers, judging, gauging the wind, carefully shadowing the green form he pursues.

Nediath> Nediath only has desire for one thing: speed. Speed, speed, and more speed. She doesn't spare a backwards glance or taunting call for those who pursue; that'd steal her concentration, and every moment is precious. The green slides through tumultuous thermals with practiced ease, stream-lined frame slipping from one of the next as she plies her air currents for those most favorable to her cause. No acrobatics for Nediath -- it's all about going as fast and far as possible for her. The green pays no heed to such things as conserving strength and speed; she just goes, arrowing upwards.

Nediath> Didarath slips through the air, a cerulean blade slicing through the currents of the sky with a lazy ease that other dragons can only envy and never hope to emulate. Nearly at one with shadow and light, he glides along behind and below the emerald arrow that is Nediath.

"Oh, shardit." Those are the only words that escape T'yari's lips as he huddles miserably in his corner, chin tucked down and resting against the tops of his knees. The others are scrutinized momentarily before the greenrider squeezes his eyes shut, refusing to look at them further.

Kassandra is just here. She is in her corner. It's the blue corner! Woo! Ahem. She's just here in the corner. Nobody mind her.

G'nar just stands, dazed, in the middle of the room, not really there in mind if so obviously so in body - his mind soars with Davoth, his expression showing his dragon's determination, blank green eyes fixed on T'yari as lifemate's attention does on Nediath's glowing form.

Nediath> Davoth has finished with announcing his intentions - now, he has settled in to make good on his promises. He follows the green with single-minded purpose, moving with ease through the thermals that sometimes buffet and sometimes aid his progress, wingtips flicking to take advantage of the air streams, wings sweeping strongly but without exerting energy. He flies straight and true after Nediath, knowing exactly what he wants, determined to be her shadow.

Nediath> For once in Nediath's life, the flirtation ceases and sobriety sets in as she flees, chasing the unreachable horizon. Apple-green wings are limned with gold as the dragon soars high, in pursuit of the dream of making herself unreachable, too, climbing ever-up and striving to touch the sun; unlike Icarius, though, /her/ wings aren't made of wax, and she's got absolutely no intention of falling into another's grasp. So Nediath flies with all the assurance of youth -- her strength won't flag, surely. Or will it?

Nediath> Didarath can see the end. He's not nearly so young as these...upstarts. Oh, no. He's got the weight of several more Turns as well as a healthy dose of experience behind him, and that experience pushes him to fly a bit faster and higher than he was before. Now is the time to move in on the green beauty. Oh yes.

Nediath> Davoth cannot go where the agile Nediath does - he can only shadow her movements, bide his time for when she will falter. He remains as close as he can, however, his own movements a pale echo of the green's vitality - but he has perseverence, and an indomitable will to exceed. And she will falter. It is the way of things. Until then, he flies with a relaxed style, retaining energy for what might come.

Nediath> Okay, so maybe it will. The green slacks, slowing considerably as her strength wanes. She attempts to make up for it with an extra surge, wings pumping at an increased pace; the damage is done, though, and the momentum has subsided. Finally, Nediath snakes a glance over her shoulder to hiss defiantly at the males. Maybe now that the velocity’s lessened, she can /scare/ them away.

Nediath> Didarath was waiting just for this moment. A massive surge of stored energy courses through his veins, lending cobaltine wings the strength to push up and out, sending him streaking forward. Neck and tail reach out, their destination at one with the focus of Didarath's mind: Nediath. Nothing matters now but to catch, and to hold...

Nediath> The stamina of youth will not fail Davoth now - it can't, he won't allow it. Energy reserves are called upon, and his speed builds as he attempts to catch up with the green as she slows, neck snaking before all to entwine her enticing form, ignoring her defiant hissing in his eagerness to attain the prize....

Nediath> That tactic didn't work, either, and Nediath knows it. But if she's going to be caught, it's going to be her choice, her catching, not the other way around -- she's an independant lady, femme fatale. So the green finally loops back around, turning on tailtip to careen back towards the males -- or, specifically Davoth. Maybe being caught, or catching herself, won't be so bad after all.

Nediath> Didarath very nearly screeches his disappointment out in a moment of childishness. With a single flip of a wing, he spirals downward, to his lifemate.

Nediath> Davoth snakes his neck through Nediath's, uncaring of who has caught whom, but living only for the fact that /he/ is part of it. Wings spread wide, holding both aloft as the joining begins, his lust all-consuming now, all else forgotten.

Kassandra growls. "This is what you get for worrying," she mutters to G'nar, before taking herself out.

Is T'yari moving? Most certainly not. He does, however, peep out from under eyelashes, facial features contorting in a mixture of emotions -- he wants, he doesn't, he wants. It's like the flower-petal thing.

G'nar isn't actually aware at first that something has happened, and he definitely doesn't realize that Kass has left - if he had, he'd be running for anywhere but where he is. Unfortunately, he's more Davoth than G'nar (or perhaps fortunately in the circumstances) now, and so nothing impinges except for the fact that he needs....something. Someone. Who? Him. T'yari. His gaze focuses, locking onto greenrider's form with incredible hunger.

If T'yari was anything of himself, he'd be running, too. Too bad he's not. So the greenrider stays put. Even if that means his little corner of the room.

G'nar isn't himself as he starts forward, pacing towards you, unmindful of your feelings. All he knows is his need, and the instinctive sense that you can sate it, this raging lust he has.