They dart through the treetops, spinning Wheel and pale Power. The Elohite is more streamlined, and glides around branches and leaves. The Ofanite is faster, of course -- but sometimes there's just no optimal path for a Wheel when the Elohite can slip through.
Eventually, though, the Power makes a dash across a gap, and is barreled into by the Ofanite. They tumble into a clump of leaves, bumping into branches and scraped by bark -- chortling with laughter.
"Gotcha! Gotcha, Jaz!"
"Oh, do you, Zaph?" Jahaziel giggles, and white fingers find their way into the fiery rings, tickling expertly.
"Ack! Eeek!" Zaphaniah yelps and writhes and drops Jaz in order to cower behind a branch. "Be kind, wench! Leave a Wheel his dignity!"
They're a ring of fire and a genderless, hairless humanoid, but Zaphaniah likes its male vessel best, and Jahaziel finds its female one most useful.
"You get what you tackle!" Jahaziel snickers, and reaches around the branch to tickle at her lover's outer rim some more.
"Oh, do I?" Zaph zips around the other side, coming up in what would be a distracting goose on a human vessel. Jahaziel just wraps her arms and legs around the ring and hangs on, keening with glee.
They burst out of the trees again, and spin into the sky, Zaph's progress made wobbly and erratic by Jaz hanging onto his ring. They don't mind. They're too busy chortling.
Mind, when Zaph runs one of his flames over Jaz's bare foot, the direction and smoothness of travel is a distant second to merely the fact of motion. They're Wind-Servitors -- speed isn't just foreplay, it's almost necessary. Jaz growl-coos and stretches herself out along Zaph's rim, crossing her limber knees around his inner ring and hooking her feet around his outer. She wraps her arms around him, above her head, then frees one of them to run into the deeper parts of his inner curves.
Technically, he's flame, with no solid core. But his Forces give him presence, and his flames are just as solid as he wants, petting his beloved's face, and body, and especially feet.
Jaz has particularly sensitive feet.
Zaph, like most Ofanim, has sensitive inner surfaces on his rings. Some Ofanim are multiple rings. Some are spoked. Some are pinwheels, and some change according to mood. Zaph's a simple soul, and he's a single hoop of fire. Jaz's fingers find their way around to those inner surfaces, teasing past the flicker-flames, and stroke little, delicate circles and spirals.
His path gets even more erratic, wobbling through the air and barely missing a higher branch. His flames wrap around her, almost drawing her into the core of his ring, each one a featherlick caress. In his firegrasp, she can unhook her ankles and start working her toes into his sensitive Ofanite parts.
On Earth, it would be ironic, that the more distracted he is, the more their Forces are overlapping and singing each other's harmonies, the faster and more surely Zaph moves. Her form no longer overbalances him, and if she were bothering to think too hard about it, it would feel as if she were nearly within his ring, stretched out and as plastic as his own fires.
Together, they alter course, straight up and up and up, toward the Higher Heavens with their Forces singing together and interleaved. Balance and Motion, Zaphaniah and Jahaziel, Power and Wheel. And the Symphony is around them and within them, a link that sizzles through their souls as they can go no higher -- and lets them freefall down in the afterglow, with Jaz's arms and legs wrapped loosely around Zaph's ring, and her cheek pillowed on her inner rim.
"Got each other," Zaph murmurs, and Jaz cuddles into his firering hug.