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Pesk had certainly spent less pleasant evenings in Cinderhaven. Mezri was a very generous companion. The Theatre in the Round had been splendid, the songs of the musical production lively and playful.
Dinner had been equally lovely. Mezrilokk and Pesk compared the traditions of their two clans, and while the Rakuna and Shrikika clans were very similar in some respects. The social advancements of the Rakuna tribe were vast comparative to her own. She barely noticed Oisin and Pinbol trying poorly to hide behind their menus in order to peek in on the date.
Pesk was entranced listening to Mezri recant his tales about spice trading, and his journeys around the realm. The massive lizardfolk, while certainly intimidating and gregarious, was surprisingly attentive to his companion, making Pesk feel a little breathless whenever that slow, easy smile spread across his features. More than once, she self consciously touched the scars that webbed across her face, wondering what on earth he was doing with her.
“So, are you interested in coming back to my place for awhile?” Mezri’s deep rumbling voice cut through Pesk’s wonderings. “I would certainly enjoy getting to know you on a deeper level.” The obvious innuendo sailed right over Pesk’s head.
“Oh! That would be nice. I’m sure you have so many more stories to tell and vice versa! Thank you!” Pesk’s speech was even more rapid than usual as Mezri took her hand.
“Kapesk.” Mezri’s brow furled slightly. “When I say a deeper level, I mean a physical one.” He stopped for a moment on the quiet street, the evening lights of the city making his blue scales appear to shimmer with the water’s reflection.
“Oh.” Pesk’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she looked down at her feet, unsure of what to do or say. She understood the mechanics of physical relationships, of course. But this was uncharted territory. She mentally sent a quick prayer to Stomiir, wishing for his strength, his confidence. She closed her eyes briefly.
Mezrilokk’s hands were very gentle as he lifted her chin. “Hey, Girl. It’s ok.” He pulled her in for a hug, the steady rise and fall of his chest both soothing and exciting simultaneously. “We can take it slow, if you want.” A gentle chuckle reverberated against Pesk’s head. “This is a no pressure situation. I like you, I’d like to see more of you, but I’m not pushing for anything serious. I’m not ready to settle down and make a clutch anytime soon. Just fun ok?”
Pesk nodded against his chest, her heart pounding rapidly at the mention of making a clutch. “I’d like that. And I- I do a lot of work that’s dangerous so just fun is good. Nothing serious.” She stepped back out of his embrace nervously.
“I can tell. You’ve got the air of a woman who can take care of business. You’re not afraid to get your hands dirty and what needs doing. I like that about you. And that chunky tail of yours.” Mezri’s deep bass voice did nothing to assuage the butterflies in Pesk’s stomach. “Another time for staying over. Let me walk you home.”
The pair strode arm in arm back towards edge of the city where Primeheart made camp in the forest. Just outside of the gates, Mezrilokk stooped in low, to gently kiss Pesk goodnight. “I’ll call on you again, girl. Don’t you worry.”
“I would like that. Thank you for a wonderful time.”
“Goodnight Kapesk.”
“Goodnight Mezri.”
As Pesk scampered into camp and into her hammock, she had a feeling that she would not be able to sleep much tonight in anticipation of the next time they met.
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