Bill stops his motorcycle when he sees who it is up ahead, sits and lets it idle and just stares. Not 'cause she's a gorgeous redhead, or even 'cause she looks like she's been rollin' around in the first.
"...That a tiger?" he asks, swiping at his forehead with his sleeve. Ain't too sweaty after all that ridin', just dirty. Little wet from the ocean spray when he drove too close.
Ygritte looked up and grinned. This was why she liked a man who'd been through battle and showed the marks. They were always smarter, more likely to find ways around things-- like missing legs.
Ygritte gave him quite a look, considering the dirt and blood all over her. "It's got my name, so I take care of it. I didn't just slaughter that dinosaur for nothing," she said haughtily. "And nothing eats me for breakfast unless I allow it."
"Y'would not like me so if I weren't crazy," Ygritte informed him, petting the tiger with a dirty hand. She'd let it eat its fill back where she'd left the thing, not caring for the taste of lizard meat herself.
"But I am tired, so I might permit you t'take me back t'my camp."
"And y'do not mind getting the blood on you?" Ygritte shot him an amused look, and picked up the cat, large as it was, loading it into the sidecar. It made a strange sound at her, but she simply patted it on the head.
"I've never heard o'the word helmet," Ygritte said as she wrapped her arms around his midsection. "But I'm not easily frightened by these... machines." Or anything, she wanted to add, but felt the situation spoke for itself.
"Good. Hold on tight, sweetheart," Bill says, revs the engine and shoots off down the beach. Maybe he's showin' off a little, or maybe he just wants her arms tighter around him.
The vibration from it was the thing she expected the least, though it did send a thrill though her. She was used to going fast, for when the mammoths truly had the space to run it was a sight to behold. A glance to the side told her that her cat was willing to put up with all of it at this point, so she tightened her arms around him-- and gave his hips a little squeeze with her thighs.
Bill answers the squeeze with a bark of laughter and a burst of speed. This thing obviously wasn't meant for drag racin', but it goes fast enough. 'Course, he don't want it tippin' over and pissin' the fuckin' tiger off, so he's a little careful with the steerin'.
The tiger was apparently well-suited for it all, as it curled up on the seat and yawned.
Ygritte, on the other hand, laughed happily and pointed him in all the right direction, making sure her fingers brushed against his stomach and thighs in a way she could say was innocent later. She was glad she'd camped near water this time.
"...That a tiger?" he asks, swiping at his forehead with his sleeve. Ain't too sweaty after all that ridin', just dirty. Little wet from the ocean spray when he drove too close.
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"Is that what it's called?"
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"When he gets bigger he'll eat ya for breakfast. C'mon, climb up. Let's go for a ride," he says, more interested in her than the tiger.
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"You're fuckin' crazy, ya know that? I'd eat ya for breakfast anyway," he says with a cheeky smile.
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"But I am tired, so I might permit you t'take me back t'my camp."
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"You can climb up behind me and stick kitty in the sidecar," he suggests.
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"I left the helmets back in my room. Hope that's okay with ya," he says, watching her manhandle the tiger cub like it's a damned stuffed toy.
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So she did not fall off, of course.
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Ygritte, on the other hand, laughed happily and pointed him in all the right direction, making sure her fingers brushed against his stomach and thighs in a way she could say was innocent later. She was glad she'd camped near water this time.
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