We start the yoga session in good spirits. A few of the Trixikka males join us, too, although Rynn turns more of them away for past offenses of staring, apparently. One of the males that the High Spear allows has one wing hanging on his back at an awkward angle, not unlike how Aloryk’s had looked before they were all bandaged up. I’m holding ‘Cobra Pose’ when I look over at my man and how he’s now staring at the lame-winged Trixikka. I watch as his throat works before his eyes connect with mine and he forces a smile on his face again. It only serves to remind me that he really doesn’t want to talk about the state of his own wings and what that Healer had said to him.
The rest of the yoga class is enjoyable. Dove has this calming, guiding voice that puts you at ease, and I didn’t even feel self-conscious when I couldn’t hold my balance in a particular pose for as long as Chastity and Bea could. I had found it mildly amusing to hear Rynn, Aloryk and Ezryk all talking together ina very serious tone until they did indeed all fall silent during Downward-facing Dog. I think Ezryk might have even trailed off mid-sentence during Open Boat - a super tricky pose for your core strength where we’re all sat here with our legs up and open, and trying to hold it. It didn’t seem to matter to the other guys that the conversation came to a very distracted stop, though.
In truth, I’d never thought that I had what they call a ‘yoga body’, but I’d surprised myself, and it was fun, too.
Aloryk approaches me with a grin, jutting his chin in my direction as he says, “I think I have come up with a dozen new mating maneuvers just watching you perform yogi, my mate.”
“Yog-ah,” I snort, shaking my head at him.
Aloryk’s big arms come around my body as I go on tip-toes to try and comfortably link my hands around the back of his neck. He instantly starts purring as he leans down to issue a soft kiss, his hands sliding down to palm my ass in the process. “Call it whatever you wish, but watching you put that beautiful body of yours into so many positions made my cock harder than a life-stone.”
“Protector Aloryk,” Rynn calls from behind us, making my man sigh.
“But now you females have stopped displaying your bodies for us, I mustoof!-”
Playfully, I slap his abs. “That wasn’t a display for you, you know.”
Aloryk folds me into his arms again and kisses the crown of my head, making me want to melt right into him. “That may not have been your primary objective, little female. But, I am afraid you have made me a big supporter of this ‘yogi’ if I am gifted with the pleasure of watching you participate.” I shake my head and turn my smile into his chest. “What I was going to say, is that my high Spear needs the Shadow-Wing and I for a meeting. Chaz-Titi will take care of you while I am busy.”
The redhead in question is apparently within earshot since she bounds up to us and claps her hands happily. “Of course I will,” she grins as she grabs for my hand and tries to tug me away from Aloryk’s safe, warm embrace. “Girl, let’s go watch the big ones training. I’m pretty sure it’s unarmed combat today. You’re gonna love it! It’s like watching greased-up, softcore gay porn, but everyone is battling it out to be the top.”
I let out an inelegant little snort-laugh and look up at Aloryk who seems to be glancing between Chastity and I with a puzzled look on his handsome face. His skin-stars dance at his temples as he asks me, “what is she saying? I do not know these words.”
“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” Chastity quips, patting him on the arm as she walks away, pulling me along with her. “I got your girl. I’ll keep her entertained.”
He grunts, dissatisfied with her answer. “On second thoughts, perhaps someone else could-”
Aloryk’s words are cut off by Rynn calling his name again and reluctantly, this time, he relents.
* * *
Well, Chastity wasn’t completely wrong in her description of the display unfurling before us in all its muscled, grunting, masculine glory. “Are they actually using an oil up for this next bit?”
The redhead’s grin is practically from ear-to-ear. “Uh-huh. They’re getting greased up like a pig. Makes you wanna get in the middle of all that, huh?”
“Not really,” Bea responds, pulling her legs up to her chest as we sit on the fringes of the training area. “They’re all huge, and really skilled fighters. I’d get destroyed!”
Chastity lifts one, perfect brow. “Honey,that’sthe dream right there.”
Bea turns raspberry red as she tries desperately not to smile, but her eyes go back to the hulking frame of the Trixikka who is standing in for the tribe’s ‘Second Spear’ while he’s away with the search party. From what I can gather, the scary-looking guy littered with scars and an eye-patch has not been subtle enough about his desire for Bea to go unnoticed by the other women. And if I were a betting gal, I’d say the feeling is probably mutual - if how she hasn’t taken her eyes off him is to go by.
“What do you think the collective noun for a group of Trixikka is?” Serena asks, leaning back on her hands, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles as she looks to the skies speculatively. “A clutch? A nest?”
“A twinkle,” Alana offers as she rocks a sleepy Nova in her arms.
“An erection.” Some of the girls groan at Chastity’s suggestion, but the reaction only makes her smile wider. “A throb! Check out that throb of Trixikka over there, trying to wrestle each other to the ground. I think it works perfectly.”
“What about ‘a dedication’?” Bea offers, ignoring Chastity’s crude jokes. “You know, because they’re like crazy dedicated to their tribe, their training and-” she gestures to Serena, Alana, Dove and me, “-to their mates.”
A flutter of something both pleasant and uncomfortable at the same time rises up in my chest. I love being included in that way. It means she sees me and Aloryk as a done deal. But the fact that his heart-stars still haven’t appeared manages to tinge the pleasant feelings with ‘what ifs’.
Chastity scrunches her nose. “That’s sweet and all, but I think it’s funnier if it’s about their wieners.”
“Fine!” Bea says, throwing her hands up in the air before gesturing toward where a new group of fighting males oils uptheir tanned and twinkling muscles to spar with one another. “What should it be then? You’re always talking about how big their…” she flaps her hands around inelegantly, “…thingsare. A ‘bratwurstof Trixikka’?… A‘footlong’?… A-a… a ‘jaw ache’?”
For half a beat of time, we all just stare at Bea shaking her own head in frustration.
“A ‘footlong’?” I ask before pressing my lips together to try and stave off the laughter I feel bubbling up.
