Asperian Balefire

The wind whips past Asperian's face, tossing his hair into a tangle, The dragonrider is the image of nonchalance; skin of wine in one hand, the other clasping one of Bloodbane's ridged spines for balance. He can feel the dragon's disapproval at the casual indifference to his own safety. "One might think you preferred the saddle, Bane." Asperian jests, grip tightening as Bloodbane's wing dips northward, soaring over an endless expanse of snow-tipped trees.

I prefer that you not fall to your death. It would be...inconvenient. Bloodbane's 'voice', a raspy, authoritative tone inside his skull, echoes across their bond. The massive dragon is a sight; doubtless many a peasant has pissed themselves when the scarlet drake soared overhead. But Asperian has never feared him. Bane is the closest thing he's ever had to a friend.

Asperian snorts. "Balefires never fall. We were born with dragonblood running hot in our veins."

House Greene may argue differently. Though Bloodbane never appeared to express any kind of emotion, that last cutting remark sounded more deadpan than usual.

His mood sours and Asperian drains the skin and tosses it. "They can argue all they like... before I cut their usurping throats." He scoffs. "Thought you were meant to be hunting our dinner, anyway, you overgrown lizard."

I am.

Bloodbane abruptly folds his wings, going in to a dive towards a clearing. Asperian curses and grabs hold just before he slips out of his seat entirely. A jet of flame and the unfortunate stag that Bloodbane had spotted is roasted alive before the dragon lands on top of it. The forceful impact makes his teeth rattle - he hadn't been prepared for the abrupt change in momentum. Bastard, Asperian thinks uncharitably as he slides off, grimacing as his legs jar as he hits the ground.

I heard that. Bloodbane is already tearing open his prize, feeding. His rider just shakes his head, stretching. There's a small pool nearby and so he goes to clean himself - it's been days since they left the Reach, and hence days since his last bath (so Polaris knows, he needs one. He reeks of dragon and worse).

His leathers and other armor are abandoned by the edge of the water; the chances of anyone coming by with a dragon feeding mere yards away is unlikely. Or so Asperian confidently assumes, before --

Asperian. There is someone here. The warning from Bane is unecessary; the dragon's growl, like rocks crashing down a mountain, already had Asperian shaking the water from his eyes. Bloodbane has something cornered, there by the shadows of the treeline. He can basically picture the dragon snapping his teeth an inch away from the intruder's face, fangs like swords making his displeasure clear. "And?" He grumbles, scrubbing at his skin. "You afraid of a few bandits, Bane? Gods, you really are a lizard --"

Not bandits. Something...different.

He pauses, brow furrowing. What is that he can feel through their bond? It's not nerves - unease, maybe? Uncertainty. It's enough that Asperian rises from the water, grabbing his sword. He doesn't bother with armor - if Bane is being cautious, it's not something his gear would protect him from anyway. Fae, maybe? Or some small god? He moves around the scarlet scaled bulk of his dragon, to see --

Asperian's eyes narrow, suspicion warring with disbelief. "What in the name of Sel's fiery cunt is the Dawnstar doing out here?"