Most firelizards had a pattern to their heat cycles. The average female feeling the oncoming urge to mate would usually be sunning herself and building up the energy for an athletic flight ahead.
Jhem was a copper mottle. Her deviation from the norm couldn't even be blamed on the Illogical Field.
She was spending the moody, proddy period of her time setting up traps in the desert. Perfect traps. Her suitors wouldn't know what hit them!
Nothing dangerous, of course, but anyone chasing a copper and not expecting some extra fun was going to be educated quite personally on the wing.
Eventually, the penny-shiny little beast did sun herself. She caught herself a koi out of someone's pond and blooded it. And then an unfortunate squirrel that was too slow to dodge. Better than fish. Squirrel blood was hot. This would be good energy. Jhem drained the fluffy rodent and then cast it aside, taking to the air and screeching a challenge to any firelizard in the vicinity who thought they could catch her.
Bring it on! Yeah, I know I shouldn't be adding more open threads to my plate, especially not at two in the morning, but Jhem said it was time to rise, so here we go. Jhem is rising. It's mostly like a normal firelizard chase, except there's pie. You'll see.
Khareesh's Jhem, cruising for a hookup. Not sure she has a gender preference, so whatever flits feel like showing up can.
Coming! Grog called as he took off towards the pretty female a low chitter to his throat as he takes off to find her and he caught a small rat and drained it. He knew most males didn't but he did and he went after the female in question to try and win her affections! She was pretty, he crooned as he took off after her flying for all he was worth to get her!
Argentum, the Ethereal Silver Mottle Firelizard, was a bit more dignified when he heard the beckoning screech. He was hunting in the grasslands on the edge of the desert, by chance, though the call echoed well enough to give him the general direction.
Well, enough dallying.
The silver sighted a lard lizard and took it with a keen dive, landing on a rock to quickly bite and drain it before bolting off towards where he just barely saw a glimmering coppery presence, as well as a competitor - dark from distance - already ahead of him.
Not that such bothered him. A quick blinkBetween and Argentum was pacing Grog beat for beat about two feet to the left. His eyes were only for Jhem, though. Eyes on the prize, blood racing through his veins, sunlight hot on the wings; it was a good day!
Jhem took off into the desert, toward her...obstacle course. The two males didn't know it, but they were about to regret their decision-making in regards to exactly which female to chase. First test: flying through flaming hoops! Literally!
Now, Jhem's advantage was that she'd actually set the course up and therefore knew exactly where her obstacles were. It was no special trick for her to be the artful dodger, sailing between canyon cracks and tucking through hoop after hoop, the fire never once grazing her wingtips.
Grog and Argentum did not have this advantage, and so it was up to them whether they'd play her game or try to go around...
The Ethereal Firelizard began to softly glow and become indistinct as his blood rose to the chase. He saw Jhem dart through the canyon cracks and tucked his wings to follow. He wasn't afraid of this tactic as he'd used it before to chase down wrongdoers alongside Anari in the Village - he'd had to be as agile as he could be to follow along their twists and turns when they went into places he couldn't follow from on high.
What he didn't foresee was the flaming hoop that lay just beyond. There was no time for him to think, only react, and it was mostly momentum and a quick spin that got him through that first one. The object of his pursuit was still ahead, going through another one, and another, and another, all alight with fire and clearly the intent was to follow. Argentum twisted about laboriously, taking a bit of time and sizing up the challenge before he began again. Wings beat furiously at the air as he pushed himself as fast as he could towards the second hoop then snapped his wings closed at the very last second, body spinning in a corkscrew to pass through the hoop. From there it was flap, close, flap, close, flap, close, through each one in turn, relying on momentum and instinct and intuition rather than actual thoughtful planning. There just wasn't time for the silver, admittedly lacking the aerial agility of some of his smaller flit kindred, to think.
He actually got through it with only a few minor singes on his wings and tail. Nothing to bother him; minor stings.