Welcome to Gaia! ::

From her wallow where she'd settled down to watch the sun set over the water. Her wounds having healed nicely, leaving a patchwork of scars down her back and across her face -- the mark of a survivor, even if she sometimes fret over how they tore into her pretty hide. Yet she stretched into the sand, her claws gently digging into the granules. It was a lovely evening, one she would see long into the night with how sleep had been evading her.

Perking up at Shalbyath's call, Khamaith paused but briefly at her call. She took stock of herself and the sleeping form of Cucuaranath. But a moment, Shalbyath dear. Standing oh-so-carefully, not wanting to disturb the sleeping blue, she stretched almost luxuriously to wake her muscles before making her way to the older gold.

A lovely evening, thank you for inviting me to share it with you. With a gentleness, she carefully nuzzles under Shalbyath's chin, crooning gently.

The softest thrum escaped Khamaith, like a weak purr from a kitten. She was always happy for the attention she got, from anyone -- dragons, humans, even firelizards. But Shalbyath was one of her closer confidants since that nasty fall, and spent the long months conversing. A mother figure -- perhaps even a grandmother figure -- one she could confide in when her own mother could not find the answers she sought.

Not at all. I was only settling down to watch the sun set. Though for being known as the sleepy gold that she was, perhaps that might be showing her hand. After all, she could still remember the trips to the healers to make certain she wasn't sick -- Khamaith just liked to sleep. The evening sun would have been a perfect time to nap and doze, usually. The vibrant colors lulling her into sleep. Or, they used to, anyway.

She tucked against the older queen's side, head ducked as her tail coiled loosely about her. The tide rolled in, splashing her forked tail and batting it around gently as it rolled back out. With each roll, her tail grew more and more buried into the sand, until with a deft shake she flung sand out once more. I'm grateful for spending the evening with you. I was only planning on watching the stars come out until sleep came for me. Khamaith pauses, pulling away to study Shalbyath for a moment, before sighing. Shalbyath... Is.. Is it normal for thoughts to keep sleep at bay? Her claws worked the sand beneath her almost fretfully, near touching on shame. Shouldn't she be past this? Even for.. extended amounts of time?

Had her color paled? Perhaps, she does recall Ezyzu saying something of the matter. However, she was fine -- just a touch tired, is all. When wasn't that true, though? Khamaith had always craved her next nap. The touch of her friend's wing is a reassurance the young queen hadn't quite known she had craved, yet found herself leaning slightly into Shalbyath.

She revels in the feeling of her claws in the sand as they walked, and as she came to a natural rest beside the other queen, the feel of the tide washing in around her paws and making her sink ever slightly into the sand as it washed out was a soothing presence. Khamaith shifted, gently leaning against Shalbyath and beneath her heavy wing.

Yet she found herself quiet for a moment, watching the sun play over the waves. What had been troubling her? Truthfully, what hadn't been troubling Khamaith. The past few months had been one stress after another. Ezyzu continues to have trouble sleeping, despite us having returned to threadfall duty. She gave a soft sigh, shifting her footing in the sand as she sank a little too far into the sand. Normally she would have loved to slowly be engulfed by the rise and fall of the tide, but tonight... Tonight it almost felt suffocating. A.. friend of mine gave me insight during a hatching months ago, and has since put me a bit at ill about what might be in store for when my body feels is ready. Not one to speak ill of anyone, particularly a friend of hers, Khamaith took her time choosing her words precisely. You think you know how someone will act, yet when the time came... Her eyes turned a murky, off shade of doubt. To feel a baby's fear of being rejected by one who should celebrate your arrival the most -- next to impression -- had been hard to stomach. I fret that time comes, I may choose a sire... wrong.

For her children would have Baihath, and no doubt in her mind could cement that her love wouldn't be a great father. But an unknown factor?

Perhaps in all her time to have known the older queen, Shalbyath’s frankness never stopped to catch her off-guard in the best of ways. Yet just as Steriath’s wisdom had her looking at the quality of sires, Shalbyath also made good points. No matter which bronze or brown might catch her, her hearts were alight for her love. Baihath would be the best father, for that she was certain.

I’d rather avoid kicking someone from the sands, but perhaps I allowed my worries to cloud the simplest answers in front of me. After all, she hoped that any she picked would respect her, her mate, their children. Yet she sighs softly, leaning just a little further into Shalbyath’s warmth. I would hope that whoever catches me understands where my loyalty lies, but.

Her eyes began to shut, as perhaps too long without proper sleep was beginning to n** at her heels. Thank you for listening to my woes, Shalbyath.