Dravite liked the dark. And she liked the quiet. The dark was self-explanatory - what kind of burrowing cave drake would she be if she couldn’t see well in it? Even the inkiest, moonless nights were a cakewalk for her, the world sprawling before her unhindered by the lack of light, if reflected in her gem-colored eyes in shades of silver and black. She liked it much better that way to hunt, anyways. Her scales were hardly good camouflage outside of her burrows, not with being colored in orange, rust and sand, with the occasionnal black speck thrown in the mix.

And the quiet was easy, too - she had good ears, especially for a dragon. Not a very stealthy type, no, no, but hearing something before it hears you? Definitely a good thing when she sometimes had to keep a metaphorical ear perked for the low thudding steps of bears that called her small patch of woodland home. It wasn’t a big place, hugging the side of a sheer cliff pockmarked with natural caves, far from most civillization, but it was hers. Hers, and hers alone. 

But, that night, it appeared that Dravite would neither have the dark, not the quiet. And it had been such a nice hunting trip too - she’d managed to catch herself a whole badger, two hares, and a partridge! So, needless to say, the small drake had been trotting through the darkened woodlands in quite the high spirits, tail wagging slightly and content snorts escaping her nostrils every few rolling paces. But, and that was where there had to be an issue, she’d eventually stalled in her happy tracks, pupils narrowing sharply as she’d caught sight of a small, flickering light through the dense trees.

A rattling growl had escaped the donkey-sized drake, head held low to the ground as she’d dropped to a stalk, waiting in silent thought before slowly approaching, carefully sneaking towards the source. Light in the forest at that hour often meant one things, and one thing alone : intruders on her turf! Dravite’s lips curled back, exposing sharp rows of teeth with a sneer. Humans, she thought dejectedly. Somehow, no matter how many trees she marked with her claws, no matter how many times she muddied the path with branches and sticks, they ALWAYS managed to come back to take a shortcut through her hunting grounds.

Well, those ones were about to learn one didn’t mess with a dragon’s turf, no matter how diminutive one might be! She gave herself a convinced snort once again, and continued her approach. Making her steps as light as possible wasn’t exactly easy, but the dense underbush, as much as it rustled and rattled against her sides, hid her from the piercing light of the campfire. She crept forward, closer and closer - as close as she’d dare, until she was sitting in a dense bush, in somewhat comfortable view of the campfire. And there she stalled, crouched in wait as she surveyed the situation. If it was just some peasants, she could afford to jump in and snap at their heels, but if it was something else...

Kova and Dingo but they're actually friends that share one collective braincell

              EXPRESSION  BLANCHED ‘PON CRUDE RETORT;  palm wavering in mock of both scandalized  &  irritation. the teens P.E.T  resting within mangled palm feels rather light in notion. a huff of ire  &  thus she stands firm. Response bound on lip only to be disrupted from teens sudden movement  --   choosing an option of combat then mockery ‘pon vocals.  Korriana is quick  /    pulling outstretched limb back in means to avoid the teen’s grab    ---   reaction comes late however having been distracted by crude call of her choice of clothing.    (  the firm pull of weight is familiar  -   action eased to flow ‘gainst  )       she responds in turn   ---     limbs shifting to abide balance  &  gravity.  her grip turns within teens own.    /     grasping wrist in bruising force before raising right leg upwards.   strike towards torso is blocked  --   force sending her to tighten limb from movement.         ‘  you know brat ---  ‘        a snarl laced toxic with venom,   momentum is taken  /   rebounded by vaulting self above Net-Savior with practiced eased.  grasp tighten on boys wrist before roughly shoving him aside.  puff of breath.  free palm swipes to detangle noir tresses from eyepatch.        ‘  you’ve got some damn balls to attack me when i’m just tryin’a give you an easy choice.   ‘      securing the boy’s  P.E.T  she admits is difficult when the boy can quickly raise himself from her push.  she finds it aggravating to know she’ll have to place the boys navi near her empty  P.E.T   (  she considers it a mere blessing that she had locked acess to the PET  before hand.  in case of course the troublesome feathered navi wanted to slip into the dark PET.  )  

(💥)—“Tomahawkman?”

The Sharoian Navi glanced up, eyes warm and gentle, so very unlike the usual expression Searchman often wore. It wasn’t often that the soldier Navi found himself outside of the Sharoian network, but when he did, he didn’t often come across those whom he considered to be friends or allies. He moved forward, regular hand outstretched towards the young and perky Navi, genuinely smiling at him.

(Dingo) "Nobody asked for your opinion, you big oaf !"

It might not have been a smart thing to do. Really, it wasn’t hard to come to that conclusion. But darn’, if Diggy didn’t want to give into her first urge upon seeing the human, ever-fluffy brows furrowed in indignant rage at his situation and her interjection, firmly wedged at the bottom of a rather deep hole with steep walls. She really didn’t try very hard to fight it, if she was to be honest.

And so, she gave into that very simplistic urge of hers.

Which was to laugh her butt off, bent onto her knees, howling cheerfully over the hole - not minding how her voice cracked with static from the sheer exhileration and seemed to echo into the deep hole. The rush of glee didn’t last long, but it was certainly expressive, ending in her stranding back up straight, bowed over the hole with a smug grin on her face.

@tomahawk-swing

Diggy hadn’t expected much from being invited to see Dingo muck about with a skateboard. She didn’t even know why she’d accepted to go in the first place - it wasn’t like she intended to clap for the human’s antics. She might have started disliking him slightly less, ever since the crane incident, but he still was an arrogant problem child that seemed to attract trouble like honey attracted flies.

Probably was those “I’m expecting you to try and socialize and be reasonable” looks that Tomahawkman had slipped her during the whole invitation that had swayed her mind. The Navi probably just wanted his NetOp to get along and people to keep helping him pull the human out of pickles, and for that, he needed people to actually care about him. A wise strategy, the little robot had to admit. The Navi had more brains than his flashy style let on.

But, machination or not, he still wished her to come help in a way, and so she’d accepted, even if it meant dealing with the meddlesome human. Friends before problems, or so stated the Robro code. She would always stay true to that much, and not at all because the prospect of going with the human anywhere to skate about or, just laze around and watch him skate, sounded like an almost normal hangout. Nope. Not in the slightest.

And since it wasn’t AT ALL what had motivated partially her choice, she had decided to arrive fashionably late, coming around the bend to the large staircase the human was stated to use as a skating obstacle. Right on time to see a pile of clothes, and limbs, come crashing down with a squishy thud at the foot of said stairs.

The small ‘bot paused in her advance, taking a moment to register what had happened - and recognizing the sweater on the pile, strolled forward, arms crossed onto her chest. “Huh- Wouldya’ look at that. Dingo, crumpled onto the floor after landin’ on his face following heck knows what kinda’ antic. Nothin’ unusual to see he-”

Diggy’s snarky greeting died in her throat as the pile of limbs did not, in fact, leap up at her face to give her the earful of her life, but instead stayed remarkably still. For Dingo, that is. Her snarky expression took longer to vanish, but disappeared in but a second when she took notice of the fact that the boy was trying very hard not to move a specific part of his body. Usually, not a very good sign.