Logs:Between Siblings
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| RL Date: 7 October, 2011 |
| Who: Vysravth, Ysavaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Vysravth and Ysavaeth share a sleepy night time chat. |
| When: Day 22, Month 12, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
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| To Ysavaeth, Vysravth enters your space with just a wiff of rust brought in on a humid wind. An oppressive ripples of heat mask the illusion behind. « How is yours? Well I hope. » There's somnolent notes in Ysavaeth's touch as the wiff of rust rouses her from sleep. A soap bubble lifts from a draconic snore interrupted, and then the sense of a yawn reverberates in the languid ripple of that humid wind sent back. Somewhere, the Reaches' youngest queen stretches and awakens. « Mmmmm, » is the guttural sounds of a good sleep completed. Right now, at this moment, there's a vulnerability to the young dragon as she tests the touch sent to her: « Vysravth? » (Ysavaeth to Vysravth) To Ysavaeth, Vysravth is softer, too, tonight, but his voice is as gruff as always, low and rumbling, « Yes, Ysavaeth. Sorry to wake you. » There is a momentarily silence, as night settles, fireflies flickering in his voice, « Go back to sleep. We can talk when you're awake. » The haze persists. She's awake and yet not, but cognizant of the brown's presence in the vicinity of her mind. In this, she's gracious, « No, please, » even if those typically silken thoughts are blurred at this time. The fireflies that flicker in his mind are given renewed life with more added to their number, a careless sprinkling that then shoot up into an inky sky to create twinkling stars. « What would you speak of, brother? » (Ysavaeth to Vysravth) To Ysavaeth, Vysravth colors the night sky with constellations that E'gin has taught him, « They are going to take us to their island. These are their stars. » The lack of sound echos across the darkness. « His feelings - He is so conflicted about it. I thought he would be happy. » If she's displeased that this is the first she's hearing of it, Ysavaeth shows very little of it except in the flare of the sun somewhere way up in that inky sky; somewhere on the other side of the planet even. It's brief. It's minute. But for the observant, it's there. Then there's a little more wakefulness, a delight not altogether feigned, if initially forced, that sets her set of remnant fireflies dancing. « I have heard. Why is it he isn't happy? It might bring some closure for that part of his life. I hope-, » here, the young queen falters, « I hope it will for Iolene. » (Ysavaeth to Vysravth) The brown is quiet for a moment, enjoying the fireflies show, « I suppose he beleived he already had closer. » The pungent smell of decay covered by salt water leaves a sweet taste in the air, « Or perhaps, he's just been too driven to think about the past, and now he is confronted with it. » There is a slight hestitation from Vysravth to share more, « It will be closure for her, Ysa, they may seem conflicted but they are ours. » A pause. « She loves you. » (Vysravth to Ysavaeth) There's a pause. « Yes. » She agrees then lapses into silence, but a companionable one.'. (Ysavaeth to Vysravth) |
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