[When Friday afternoon arrives, Nikolai makes his way to Konoha's barn-turned-home in the midst of Emerald Park's sprawling fields. Thanks to his habit of taking his work home over the weekends, to keep at unravelling the problems posed by his current project, he has already wracked up so many overtime hours in the first month of his new job that his supervisor insisted he take off early today.
It may be for the best. The monthly transformation is hitting him harder than usual. Since that tumultuous first transformation, the end of every month has been relatively calm. He always gained the wings and tail, the horns and scaly skin, that fashion him into the likeness of a dragon, but his temperament remained unaffected.
This time, though... He was almost late to work every day this week, because he couldn't bear to leave Alina alone and so stretched out the minutes of their mornings together. More than once has found himself unreasonably agitated by anyone so much as approaching Constantin. The feeling grips him deep in his gut. He's had a hard time loosening it. Possessive and protective like, he supposes, the dragons in stories.
The solitary walk through the shifting landscape of the park provides a reprieve. With nobody around to trigger these invasive instincts, Nikolai feels more like himself. He would make his visit with Konoha brief. They'd eat and chat. He'd retrieve his shirt and pick up supper to bring home to Alina.
He knocks on the door. His hand, clawed and armored with blue-green scales on the back, is bare. Gloves and claws don't quite mesh... While he awaits Konoha's answer, he whistles a tune to himself.]
action
It may be for the best. The monthly transformation is hitting him harder than usual. Since that tumultuous first transformation, the end of every month has been relatively calm. He always gained the wings and tail, the horns and scaly skin, that fashion him into the likeness of a dragon, but his temperament remained unaffected.
This time, though... He was almost late to work every day this week, because he couldn't bear to leave Alina alone and so stretched out the minutes of their mornings together. More than once has found himself unreasonably agitated by anyone so much as approaching Constantin. The feeling grips him deep in his gut. He's had a hard time loosening it. Possessive and protective like, he supposes, the dragons in stories.
The solitary walk through the shifting landscape of the park provides a reprieve. With nobody around to trigger these invasive instincts, Nikolai feels more like himself. He would make his visit with Konoha brief. They'd eat and chat. He'd retrieve his shirt and pick up supper to bring home to Alina.
He knocks on the door. His hand, clawed and armored with blue-green scales on the back, is bare. Gloves and claws don't quite mesh... While he awaits Konoha's answer, he whistles a tune to himself.]