Bad idea. Very bad. For the kiss was rather more involved than a mere social peck. He began to reciprocate automatically, then jerked back. Windroc gizzards! “Thank you very much,” she murmured. Kal could only think of Tazithiel’s fiery breath sizzling his neck-hairs. “Uh–what was that?” “In my culture, that’s a kiss of gratitude.” “In mine, that’s more of an invitation to the pillow-roll,” he spluttered. Still clasping his neck, she chuckled, “You’re audacious, Rider Kal, but I’m agreeable. I’m sure our Dragons wouldn’t mind.” “What?” Kal tweaked a neck muscle with the speed of his guilty sidelong glance. Tazithiel and Jalfyrion both glared at the Humans, their eyes ablaze with emotions which had to centre upon cold-blooded murder. He was quite certain someone would mind. Very much. Very, terminally … much.
