The blizzard began to die down just as the two wyverns landed in the valley below where the tall, snow-laden fir trees flanking the frozen river shivered from the last remnants of its dying breath. The prolonged flight through the icy winds numbed Tawyr down from snout tip to tail tip, draining all of the frustration he harbored with his companion's wise decision to fly through a hailstorm of frozen daggers. It no longer mattered that they had no rock above to shield them from the drifting snowflakes, and he cared even less for the cold embrace of snow around his paws instead of soft, comfortable furs. For now, Tawyr was simply grateful that they stopped before his wings gave in, and for a moment, he wondered if any other male had perished while trying to impress the freakishly resilient female at his side.

“I thought you enjoyed cushy snow," Asharya tried to make light of a terrible situation by flinging a spray of soft, icy crystals with her tail in his direction, catching him right across the snout. “Or was it just another thing males say to always appear in control of everything?"

She did that all the time, and he barely knew her! Rather than pointing it out, Tawyr shook his morose head free of her invitation at play and settled on his haunches, wings draped around him to conserve heat. He glanced around for a ledge or nook to crawl into, but there was nothing but trees sagging under the weight of their sparkling adornments. The thick layer of ice encasing their needle-like leaves was made all the more apparent by the edge of the moon peeking through the parting clouds, its dominion over the sky a depressing reminder of the hours he'd spend freezing up there, should he take wing a second time.

“Have it your way and sulk. I thought you'd like to stretch your limbs a little, but since you're not amiable, I'll stretch all of myself instead." Asharya flopped down onto the soft layer of fresh snow blanketing the ice beneath without taking Tawyr's bemused expression into account, let alone take note of his tense lips and peeking fangs. “Do push yourself further and crash against one of these desolate peaks when your body betrays you. It will make for a fascinating tale to tell the hatchlings."

It wasn't his body that betrayed him, but her! Were it not for her needless impatience, he would have never braved the erratic gusts of a blizzard, all so that they could wait out in the cold a little while longer. And for what? To match her ever-rising expectations? If she wasn't a female, Tawyr would not have lingered around this pest for one more day, but curiosity got the better of him. He had to impress her and soon, to court her, all to fulfill the prophetic ambitions of his parents.

No. This wasn't what he wanted. Not when every scale on his body rattled from equal amounts fatigue and cold. Not while he sat on his haunches like a vigilant sentry over a sprawled wyverness who stretched her wings over the snow as if it was the luxurious fur of a tundra bear.

“Good. Remain silent. I had half a mind to nap."

“Here? Exposed to the whims of the blizzard?" Tawyr spoke for the first time since they landed, surprising Asharya enough for one of her eyes to lazily drift towards him.

“It's no longer snowing, so the only one I expose myself to is you, mrrrm." Her playful growl, along with the way her tail tip slid over his neck like a conniving eel, stirred up a storm of wanton thoughts within Tawyr. Whereas he found her splayed form with a raised hind paw endearing before, he now couldn't help but glance between her legs and take sight of the slightly exposed pink dash burrowed between her underbelly plates.

“You can lick. I don't mind, so long as it happens within the next few seconds." Her long, flexible toes stretched and curled playfully while she spoke, alluding to his momentary lapse during their first play session. Would she ever stop teasing him about that? Or did she wish to be licked…elsewhere?

Tawyr's gaze shifted from the soft underside of her paw and the groping toes that had practically forced him to lick her in order to free himself, to a softer, more appetizing sight. Closer to it than ever before, the young male subdued a lustful, guttural growl when his peeking erection forced him to lean forward onto his wings, lest he buried his tip in the snow instead of her.

N-no! She didn't intend to mate, and neither did he!

His eyes widened to their limits as the heat of shame flooded his body, its intensity so great his burning frills could have melted the snow. Immediately averting his eyes from that mind-addling sight, the male turned his head upward to clear his mind with the help of fresh, humid air that carried the promise of snow rather than her distinct scent. He only glanced at her out of fear, to ensure that she did not witness his instinctive crave peeking out of its shelter and breathed a sigh of relief when he found her head leaned against a wing, eyes firmly shut.

She wouldn't have minded it, however. In fact, she'd probably wrestle him into submission to access that private area of his and draw more of himself into the open in order for her teasing to be complete. If there was one thing he had learned of her so far, that had to be her incessant playfulness. Some wyverns could mistake it for courtship, but not him. He had no territory of his own, possessed none of her endurance and knew little in the ways of combat, but he was a good hunter. She said so herself, and it was his truthful innocence that put her at ease enough to grant him such appetizing sight.

He was no threat to her, and she found that fascinating. Arousing, even, given her invitation, one that Tawyr foolishly rejected.

In that instant, the fear of appearing disinterested in her washed away every other worry he harbored, making room for the mystifying possessive instinct that dwelled within each male to climb to the surface. For better or worse, this female rested with him, feasted with him, flew with him, and he wasn't about to slight her by being completely oblivious to what might have very well been an opportunity to mate.

His heart hammered so hard against his chest that Tawyr half-expected it to burst into a million of confused pieces. Every scale on his body sizzled with equal amounts doubt, apprehension and excitement as he leaned further onto his wings, his twitching nostrils slowly but surely making their way to her nether regions. His lips immediately pulled into an instinctive snarl when a gust of wind blew her smooth yet prominent fragrance in his direction, forcing him to suck in a whiff laden with member-stirring pheromones.

“Mrrarrr," Tawyr's deep, resonant hum rumbled through his cream-colored plates, jaws shuddering slightly from the allure of her feminine fragrance. Having never smelled a female from up-close, a primordial hunger possessed him, forcing the tip of his snout over her splayed haunch to breathe the wisps of her aroma right above the source. It took all of his willpower to remain there and not angle his head down, lest his lips kissed hers in a long, passionate embrace that he might never escape.

At first, only his timid, tapered tip showed, but with each intoxicated breath he sucked in, more of Tawyr's meat spilled out into the open, the heat of lust shielding him from the light, nocturnal breeze.

“A whiff? That is all I get?"

The young male shrieked a panicked yelp at the sound of her voice, falling back onto his haunches and grinding his teeth together to keep his whimpering discomfort from burying his erect cock in the snow from spilling forth.

“I was readying to lick your paw. Like you wanted!" He barely managed to keep coherent while under the scrutiny of Asharya's sly, playful blue-grey eyes.

“It took more than a few seconds," she pointed out, her gaze traversing to his below. A strange, almost apologetic whine sailed through her throat, followed by her strangest of offers.

“Let's make for the woods and bundle together for the night."

Bundle together? As in…sleep against her? He did not even have a second to process the implications of Asharya's request that the wyverness already rolled onto her feet, tail coiling around his neck to drag his stumbling self after her.

“It is the only way to ensure that you don't freeze your shaft off before you even use it, you bumbling whelp."

That was more like her! He would have thanked her in spite of the subtle insults she often teased him with were it not for the pesky snow clinging to his cock making its retreat so jarring he winced and tensed.

“Of all the males I could choose, it had to be one who mates the snow…" Asharya trailed off, her tail squeezing Tawyr's neck reassuringly, almost possessively.

“It's far softer than you. I couldn't help myself," he tried to match her wit, only to instantly regret it the moment she let go of him.

“Then perhaps you'd like to sleep in it." Asharya took wing before Tawyr even had the chance to apologize, let alone make it up to her. Females…he could never hope to understand them!