An Affluent Zebra

Djihoofi, Farasi | Zharris' Estate, Three Months After Ronnie's Arrival

Hidden under the protective, decorative awning of the second floor balcony, the pair watch as the bleak, gray sky above let's free an absolute torrent of water that cascades onto the lands around them. Several of the businesses inside the city of Djihoofi, visible beyond the walls of Zharris' estate, have shut down for the day to account for the weather. Zharris sits comfortably on one of the balcony chairs, watching the water dribble and run over the edges and corners of her home. Ronnie seems more interested in the protective measures that the other Zebra's erected over the various garden plots, to divert some of the storm. Compared to his usual dress, Ronnie sits cross-legged on the floor beside Zharris, wearing something more similar to an old Greek toga than the clothes he arrived in.

"When you said it rained here, you weren't kidding." Ronnie whistles, putting extra emphasis on the word. Raining hardly felt like the right descriptor with the way it was coming down. More like pouring. Zharris said it was just rain but this felt like some serious weather.

"We lack the commonplace, managed weather patterns of Equestria. Here, rain comes in one long barrage upon the land, before we hardly see it again for some time." Zharris explains, quietly sipping her morning drink. Something warm, to keep the body from this humid, wet day.

"What's the plan, then?" Enjoy the weather, or spend the hours away from being wet, hidden away in your workshop?" Ronnie asks, a hand slowly brushing up and down Zharris' back digging through her bristly fur. Zharris hums at the contact, making no effort to hide her enjoyment of the touch.

"The rains are typically a... time of holiday for Farasi." Zharris continues, though she takes a few pauses to really enjoy when he gets to one of the itchier parts of her back. Ever since Ronnie started staying with her, she's begun wearing more open-backed dresses and clothes that allow for easier, down-from-above scratching.
"So the shop in Djihoofi is closed until the weather clears. I may poke at a design or two I have on my table, but... I do enjoy the weather. I may simply watch it all with a hot drink in hoof."

"Sounds like a good time to me. What's with the... garden stuff?" Ronnie nods down to one of the garden plots below, where Zor jogs about underneath a hefty raincoat, double-checking on the gardens and their protective, temporary covers.

"Not all of our plants are meant for Farasi's natural heavy, rare rains. Some are watered regularly from our reserves, and would suffer or drown in this weather. So, we set out our catchers to divert the rains to our barrels, to restock our reserves. It's as bountiful a time for us as it is for the plants."

"Huh. Clever."

"Isn't it? Zor came up with the design, actually. Runs the water into large barrels designed to be tipped and rolled, easily stored behind the estate in storage. He's actually patenting the design and is looking to begin leasing it outside, to Djihoofi and other settlements." There's obvious pride in her voice, likely having had some part in the design process, or just proud of one of her workers to be so creatively unbound.

"Did he really? Huh."

"He's quite capable when it comes to woodworking. We often import various lumber types for him to experiment with."

"What about Zar? Does he get up to anything?"

"Believe it or not, he's working on his own line of cologne."

"Seriously?"

"Completely. Right now, he's experimenting on a mixture between the pheromones of the desert twig-hopper, and the east-valley light bloom. Both very potent sources of smell, but also distinct."

"Know anything about the light bloom?"

"Afraid not."

"...What about the twig-hopper?" Ronnie asks, well aware of what he's just steered himself into. Zharris ears flicker as she spins about, looking at him.

"Oh, absolutely! I actually procured the specimens that he extracts his materials from. They typically grow in the more forested regions, which means they prefer being near more humid, watery locations..." Zharris begins, setting her drink aside and joining Ronnie on the floor, eagerly diving into her knowledge of the creature.

She's adorable when she gets this excited. A good chunk of the rainy morning is spent listening to Zharris explain, what basically rounds out to be, a stinky stick bug.

And Ronnie wouldn't have it any other way, watching her sheer excitement for these topics. Threw him pretty good when he found out the Silk Wyrms they kept under the estate weren't Silk Worms, but it was just another footnote in her insectid fascination.

Djihoofi, Farasi | The Djihoofi Formal Attendancy, A Local Fundraiser For A Historical Restoration, Six Months After Ronnie's Arrival

Late into the evening, deep in the bowels of Djihoofi, one of the local councilmembers hosted an event for the restoration of one of Djihoofi's oldest buildings, which was threatening to crumble with time. A good chunk and a wide variety of the population was present at this large function, with numerous tables and staff serving snacks and drinks as candles fought back the looming night.

"Miles less promiscuous than one of Mister Banks affairs." Ronnie quietly comments into a glass of something sweet-smelling, tugging at the recreation of an Earth-styled tuxedo. Zharris had taken her own unique spin on the design, and while familiar, was a little snug in a few too many places for Ronnie's preference. Unfortunately for him, that was entirely Zharris' preference, who hasn't taken her eyes off of him the entire function. She did work hard on it, after all. Might as well let her have her fun.
"Though... not quite as much flair. Is it weird if I kind of miss his style of partying?"

"Zebra culture is much more strict about such things. It is generally frowned upon to engage in such activities in a lofty setting such as this, not to mention an entire cultural stigma about getting up to anything before marriage. Also, this is a fundraiser. I fear ponies getting up to such a thing at such a public event would be a cause for concern." Zharris explains, having already set her own drink back down some time ago, not quite interested in it. Unlike the eye-catching golden dress she wore the first time that they met, this time, she was fancied up in an all-purple gown that only had a single shoulder strap, the dress itself long enough to trail behind her, color-matched to the eyeliner and lipstick that she wore, and to the pocket square on his chest.
"...Truthfully, I find myself agreeing. Their choice of treats isn't quite up to snuff this year, and there's a blandness to the whole thing. Likely their first time hosting an event of this scale."

"Really? I think there's a few places on Earth that practice the same thing, but that's a little surprising to hear. The promiscuity thing, not the treats. I'd kill for a cookie right now." Ronnie comments, watching the other Zebra's, all fancies up in their own regard, chat and discuss the topic at hand. It felt much more formal, and somehow, managed to make him feel even more out of place than Mister Bank's party.

"How so?" Zharris leans against the table they're sat at, already tuning out the rest of the function. Her hoof is idly kicking in the air, bored and welcoming the distraction.

"It's a bit of an awkward comparison, but Ponies and Zebra and such are kind of a mix of Humans and Horses." Ronnie shifts to face Zharris, throwing out his opening idea.

"Right, I've heard about such a species on your planet. Most similar in build to Saddle Arabians, though they don't share our intellect." Zharris nods, well aware of the amusing similarities between their cultures.

"Right. And they have a habit of herding. Is that a thing here?"

"For Equestrians, primarily. There's something of a cultural schism, where they argue a larger percentile of the population is female, thus requiring herds, though some prefer monogamy. Not sure if that research has found a resolute answer yet, actually. Been some time since I looked into it. There's, of course, a fringe case here or there, but primarily, Zebra culture heavily prefers monogamy. The result of ancient times and a different mindset, where a tyrannical ruler overplayed his hoof, and the uprising that ensued stamped on some rather overzealous ideals in that regard, resulting in the cultural inclinations we have today."

"Oh, I've heard about that kind of stuff. Some old Earth king tried to enact rules where they got to lay with the wife on the wedding day, or something." Ronnie nods, remembering an old story he'd heard. Might've just been fiction. He can't quite remember.

"...That's essentially exactly what happened here. Huh. Our kind are weirdly interlinked, are they not?" Zharris leans on her hoof, huffing to herself in amusement.

"Apparently so. Wonder if that's just something inevitable that a person in power tries at some point." Ronnie crosses his arms, leaning closer.

"Power does strange things to ones perception and decision making. But why the questions? Curiosity? Or are you trying to add another set of stripes to our bedroom?" Zharris teases, well aware of the answer.

"Yeah, Zor just gets me so hot and bothered, you know? The way his stripe just stripe all over the place." Ronnie snorts, tugging at his collar. Zharris smacks his arm, tsking at him.

"Oh, leave poor Zor out of this." She scolds, but Ronnie's laughter persists.

"I joke, but 'poor Zor'? You know he's actually dating?"

"He's what?" Zharris blinks several times, apparent news to her.

"He keeps going down to the docks, and I wasn't up to much, so I followed him last week. Turns out he's getting friendly with one of the Kelpie that work the docks. You know, bringing the ships in and out of port and stuff."

"Is he really now? Well, I'm happy for him. Kelpie are a... unique experience."

"More unique then dating a human?" Ronnie raises a brow, despite Zharris nodding.

"Truthfully, it might compare. Don't take that as a slight, Ronnie, you're very special, I assure you --"

"You don't need to patronize me, Zharris."

"-- it might not be as rare, but it certainly is tacked with it's own hurdles. The obvious first. The reliance on water, the song..." Zharris starts listing, counting on her hoof as if she had fingers.

"Song? I thought that whole singing thing was Sirens." Ronnie cuts in, confused.

Zharris wiggles a hoof around, making her best attempt at a so-so expression.
"A little overlap between their species, but some Kelpie breeds have access to song that can alter mindstates. Outlawed to use against another without consent, obviously, but it leads to some judgement towards interspecies relations with them, some ponies assuming they'll naturally and accidentally use their voice, if not outright choosing to."

"Huh. Sounds rough, being judged for that kind of thing. Can't help it if you're born with it, you know?"

"Do you think a Kelpie and a Zebra could be happy, Ronnie?" She suddenly asks, pressing a hoof against his chest.

Ronnie purses his lips, considering the question for a moment. He decides joking is the best angle.
"... If a Zebra is into a Kelpie, they're probably into being controlled by that song, if I'm going to be blunt about it. Part of the appeal or something. Probably the same reason why you're into me, you know. Your kink for hands and all that."

She gives him a challenging look, as if surprised he'd dare try to embarrass her at a public function, quick on the snap-back.
"What if we added a Kelpie to our little number?" Zharris teases, wriggling closer, giving him a cheeky look.
"Sing us some songs, join us in the bath? Perhaps I've lost my... exotic appeal, now that you're surrounded by Zebra's." She adds, bottom lip pouting.

"Alright, that's enough." Ronnie rolls his eyes, ignoring Zharris' giggle.
"Just asking questions. I'm more than pleased with our current arrangement."

"Just teasing you, Ronnie. Unfortunately for you, I'm quite possessive. Actually try to include somepony else, and i'll kill you." She states bluntly, yet sweetly, patting him on the leg before turning her attention back to her drink, watching a distant discussion between patrons.

"...Nice." Ronnie mumbles, scooting his chair a little closer, feeling a touch hot under the collar. He feels a playful hoof nudge his leg under the table, the pair enjoying the rest of the relatively tame evening.

Djihoofi, Farasi | Zharris' Estate, One Year After Ronnie's Arrival

A long wolf-whistle accompanies the sweaty Ronnie on his fifteenth lap of the estate grounds, his jogging companion beside him groaning and rolling his eyes.

"There he goes!" The distant, teasing voice of Zharris calls out from the balcony, leaning on it's edge as she watches with supportive amusement.

Ronnie, shirtless and in shorts, slicked with sweat from the sun bearing down on his bare skin. He was getting used to the weather, but plenty of shade and water, perhaps even a bath called for him right after this. Yet, the whistle wasn't quite meant for him, but the panting Zebra that kept pace with him.

Originally, Zabra held himself above such routine, believing his line of work to keep him fit enough. In a playful challenge, Zharris set her brother up against her fiance, for a fun little bit of sport. The expectations were already obvious, with Zebra and Ponykind having a fairly large advantage in most physical forms of sport.

Until Zabra lost in both an endurance race, and an extended weight-pull against Ronnie, leaving the proud Zebra flabbergasted. Turns out, Ronnie never quite gave up on his workout routine -- a mixture of habit, and a small enjoyment of feeling like eye-candy each time he passed his doting host. He couldn't help it, he enjoyed the attention. A firefighter in his prime isn't so easily bested, something Zabra over-estimated while believing Ronnie to be little more than a new centerpiece in the estate.

While that last part might be debatable with how she likes to show him off to company, Zabra's loss had sent him and his confidence reeling.

About a week later, and without asking Ronnie found he had a companion for each of his morning workouts. Zabra had made the resolution to improve himself, no longer content with his current stature. He was definitely more out of shape than he had first expected, and the second most brutal part of it all, besides the obvious physical toll, was his sisters incessant cheering and involvement, simply happy the two had something new to bond about.

In reality, Zabra just needed someone to gleam the proper methods off of, but Ronnie didn't mind.

Ronnie gives a playful wave to Zharris, as Zabra groans.
"How many more laps...?"

"There's a real nice breeze today. I was thinking about five or six more. You still up for that?" Ronnie asks. No answer, but Zabra still keeps up with him, even as he rounds the wall for the umpteenth time.

They pass Zor and Zarina as they tend to one of the gardens -- while Zabra might tolerate Zharris' involvement, Zor's attempt at a cheer quickly earns him a glare from the panting Zabra.

Djihoofi, Farasi | Zharris' Estate, Two Years After Ronnie's Arrival

"What about this one?" She calls out, trotting out from behind the wall shed been hidden behind.

No matter how many times it happened, it was still one of Ronnie's favorite ways to pass the time. Tucked away inside Zharris' workshop, sat comfortably on a chair in the late and quiet hours of the evening, where Zharris sought his insight on some of her more recent designs that she'd been working through.

Inevitably, it always turned into a messy flirtfest.

Zharris stands in the middle of her workspace between the many tables that host her variety of tools, taking a quaint pose as she shows off a frilly, multi-layered dress that slips between several different shades of green, with each outer layer getting lighter than the shade beneath it. It leaves a circular hole around the barrel, focusing a design around the rest of the body and drawing the eye to the length of the dress that trails behind.

"How'd you get it to layer like that?" Ronnie asks, watching his fiance spin around to show off each of the angles.

"What, these?" Zharris hums as if surprised by the placement of his attention. She makes a not-so-subtle flair with her hips to accentuate the back part of the dress, slowly strutting between the work-tables towards him.

"Not sure. Might need a closer look." Ronnie leans back with his hands on his lap, watching -- though the folds are hardly what he's watching. Each carefully placed hoofstep, one in front of the other, as she closes the distance.

"Hm... a few pinches, a few pins, you'd be surprised what these hooves can do, Mister Harrelson. Just imagine the entire ensemble, with complimenting makeup... I was thinking of doing an elaborate bow that ties into the mane for this one, and wearing it to that upcoming spring festival." She explains, pausing in front of him to repeat her movements -- much, much slower this time.

Ronnie makes his admiration vocal, humming in agreement.
"Where do you think the bow will sit?" He asks, a hand slowly reach out to trail against the base of her neck, his fingers carefully tracing through her fur and into her mane.
"Here, lower and at the bottom? Or," He brings his hand upwards, eliciting a long, pleased sigh from Zharris as he works his way up between her ears.
"Here?"

"Buck the bow, Ronnie, just keep petting right there. I've got an itch." She tsks, leaning into him. Ronnie nearly snort-laughs, pulling the mare closer as he scratches into her fur.

"Sure thing, Zharris. It's a gorgeous dress, though. Never expected green to be one of your colors." Ronnie comments, enjoying Zharris' expressions.

Even a few years in now, and he's still figuring all the spots she likes a good scratch.

"Neither did I, but Zabra found someone who could source green dye at a reasonable price, and I had to try it on something. Felt appropriately spring time."

"What event is coming up again?"

"The Spring Revival. You remember last years." Zharris reminds, finally stepping away and shaking her mane to a more manageable state.

"Where they tried to plant that tree they got from Equestria and it died?" Ronnie chuckles, remembering the absolute disaster that it was last time. An attempted outreach between nations that wound up going quite poorly.

"The very same. Apparently, they're planting a cactus this time." Zharris notes, patting down the dress and giving it a final glance-over.

"Smart." A short nod from Ronnie as he settles back in.

"So... next dress?" Zharris perks up giving Ronnie a playful look.

"Absolutely. Think we'll actually get through them all?"

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not going to be able to keep your hands off this next one." Zharris slyly warns, grinning as she ducks back out of sight.

Hoo boy.