Logs:Choosers
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| RL Date: 22 June, 2014 |
| Who: A'rist, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After some Official Business at Tillek, riders decompress, and Lythronath kicks K'del's puppy. |
| Where: Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 1, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Lyeley/Mentions |
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| Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr Although Cadejoth is well on his way to recovery, he's not yet permitted proper flight, and so K'del is continuing to make use of A'rist and Lythronath, both for regular trips to Southern, and other, more official business within the region and beyond. Today's trip was to Tillek, to a meeting with the aging-but-still-quick-witted Master Seacrafter, Lyeley. It wasn't snowing out at Tillek, but here at the 'Reaches it's coming down thick and fast, and K'del has to shake it free from his jacket as he enters the warmth of the Living Caverns. "She's something, isn't she?" he comments, of the Seacrafter. "Imagine she'll step down sooner rather than later, but until she does... I'd definitely rather not lose any more of her ships." Lythronath has been grudgingly - and obvious in his grudge - obliging to take the weyrleader around, but the bronze's boredom has started to show itself. A'rist is still a bit on edge, from the restraint being exercised. Dark eyes are quick when they come up to the weyrleader, even as the younger rider brushes snow from his shoudlers, the movement almost casually as compared to the look on his face. "Sure. How many ships?" A beat later, as some of the sharpness starts to clear, "How big's the grudge?" "Not sure it's anything quite so obvious as a grudge," comments K'del, musingly, as he hangs his jacket up on one of the hooks, and leads the way (assuming, of course, that the younger bronzerider will follow; he doesn't check to see) towards the klah pot. "But it's a couple of ships, now. Sailors who will seemingly never return home." It makes K'del reflective, silent for a few moments as he pours himself a mug of klah. "What did you make of the younger Master who sat in?" Because obviously A'rist was paying attention. This was a learning opportunity! "Which is another way of saying," A'rist almost-challenges, even while hanging his coat and following on the weyrleader's heels, almost obediently, "a grudge people don't want to talk about. In polite company," brings a smirk that would be wickedly clever, if not for the Lythronian influence that makes it much more... primal. A'rist combs a hand through his hair, where snow was allowed to settle only as they made their way across the bowl. "What, the way he kept looking at us down his nose? I think he was scared of looking stupid so made us that way. Like," a finger taps his temple, "in his head." So he was paying some attention somewhat. K'del counters that with a shake of his head, turning to glance at A'rist over the rim of his mug. "Mm, still wouldn't go that far. Our job, today, was simply reassurance that we're doing our best to counter the threat." It's only now that he gives the younger bronzerider a more lengthy, considering glance. "That's well summed up," he adds, agreeing with that later comment. "He's trying to big-note himself, I think. Position himself in a certain way, politically. Because of Master Lyeley does retire at some point, it helps to stand out." "Me and Lythronath can start flying out farther. His stamina's building up even more, with everything extra." And on that note, with those same intense eyes and an unhidden hopefulness, "Is Cadejoth hungry?" It comes in time to, « Hungry, » that sounds almost like a command, the younger bronze willing it to be so. The blip might never have happened; A'rist is focused again, the transition easier now than when they'd first landed. "Hopefully she's smarter than that. To pick him. There's got to be better ones." Oh, right, klah. He sets about that. A blink follows that blip, that intensity. "He's--" « Make it a good one, » puts in Cadejoth, taking the words away from his rider, his impatience and frustration and irritation buzzing about those mental chains. « I want to feel it. I don't want it dead. » Just maimed. Still bleeding. These things are important. "She probably won't pick at all: the conclave of seacraft masters will decide between themselves. But she can certainly hint; suspect that's how a person influences things, in the crafts." His shrug suggests he's not entirely sure. "Flying further'd be good. Imagine it'll be more... purposeful for you. Interesting. Than ferrying me around." « Maybe, » isn't all that much of a promise. Lythronath is airborne, the rush of a stampede beneath him coming across the link just on the edge of his withdrawal. He has things to... tend to. "Recommendations go a pretty long way," A'rist supplies, with a shrug, "I think, so long as everyone's in the same circle. But most people are in the craftmaster's circle, or try to be." He doesn't offer anything more, perhaps because he's busy stirring his klah. When he looks up to K'del again, it's just A'rist, and not his bronze as well. "Y- well, it'll be direct, which is better for him." He nods, maturely. "Better if we find something interesting, too." Cadejoth doesn't let go of the link: let him feel this, damn it! Let him be part of this. "Recommendations help," agrees K'del. "But sometimes things go against recommendation. So people position themselves. Politics." Like it or hate it, it's part of life. Wrapping both hands around his mug, he considers A'rist, nodding slowly. "Boredom is a problem," he supposes. "Just flying and flying and seeing nothing is a problem. Imagine simply following ships as they leave port is also a problem. Of boredom, I mean." Fine, he can see. He can see Lythronath's claws, and maybe he can hear Lythronath's roar, if not feel the way it resonates in his chest, and then he can share that intense focus when the beast is chosen, and then as the young bronze swoops, Cadejoth can - oh noes. « Dead. Squish. » Oops. A'rist lifts a hand to rub over the stubble that's become more persistent along his jaw. "There's lots of problems, and they're all the same." Reason to sip at that klah. Nooooooo! Such sadness. « You weren't supposed to do that, » mourns Cadejoth, his voice hovering somewhere between a woeful howl and sad puppy sighs. "Mm," agrees K'del. He doesn't have an answer; it's difficult. "Well, at least you'll be rid of Cadejoth and I, soon," he concludes, after a moment. It's awkward. « Haha, » says Lythronath, letting Cadejoth see his big strong talons gather it up, that limp beast. It's only leaking a little. « Warm. » When he lifts off again, that gust of wind prompts, « Cold. » The second 'haha' isn't voiced, but might be inferred. While that carcass gets chilled by the weather, A'rist drinks more of his klah. And then a bit more. And then, A'rist is frowning. "Which leaves us back to the rest." His jaw squares up a moment later. "We'll find those ships, though." This is the worst thing that has ever happened to Cadejoth. Minus the whole, you know, being grounded thing. THIS IS SO NOT FAIR. « Bring it before it gets cold, » grumps the sad, kicked puppy bronze. "Find those ships," agrees K'del, focusing upon this one tangible. "Or traces of them. Or... anything. Explore the islands, if you need to. Consider it a task. You could even try and map them." The islands, presumably. The faster Lythronath goes, the colder the winds feel. But don't worry, he's coming fast. Real fast. "We'll find them," A'rist repeats the purpose, extra firm of voice to accommodate, perhaps, for the flimsiness of the mission itself - at least, as certain parts of him might see it. A bit more klah, and he leans a little at the table. "So when you and Cadejoth are flying again... does that mean you'll go alone to those meetings?" Cadejoth waits, no doubt trying not to imagine frozen blood and cold meat; think positive! "Good," says K'del, firmly, as if intending to leave it there, except-- "Well, I guess. We've generally done so in the past. Why? You going to miss it?" "I-" but A'rist needs a moment to chew on his lip, and the best way of explaining himself. A fingertip taps at the mug, ticking out the seconds. "Part of me," is carefully worded, and brings with it a wrinkling of his nose. The mug, no longer tapped, is raised up again. When Lythronath drops off that beast for the wounded bronze, it is, at least, not frozen solid. « Hungry. » Satisfied. K'del is, perhaps, a little surprised by that admission, though it shows in his expression for only a few moments, culminating in a slow, careful nod. "Not opposed to you accompanying me on occasion," he says. "Azaylia takes on most of the diplomacy, these days, but things that are wing-related," like protective sweeps, "Are certainly my focus." Cadejoth sighs a great, yawning sigh as his meal is delivered, nosing at it in a disgruntled, disappointed kind of way. « They're better alive, » he grouses, which is... sort of, but not really at all, like a 'thank you'. « Better, » agrees Lythronath, with as much heat as that first gush of blood might have had. If only. Even that is snatched back, though the young bronze does try scrape whatever is left of the beast on his talons onto the ledge - a mark left, rather than cleaning - before going after his own. "On occasion," A'rist agrees, looking toward the bowl that same moment his dragon goes airborne again. And reaching up to rub first at his chin, then at his hair. With that agreed upon, K'del seems somewhat awkward, as though he's run out of things to say that don't involve backtracking to more dissection of this afternoon's meeting, or... something. "Well," he says, clearing his throat. "Good. Guess I ought to go check on Cadejoth. Thanks for the ride, A'rist. And for Cadejoth's meal." The one that the older bronze is now eating, however disgruntled. It's... acceptable. But only barely. "Yeah," A'rist nods. "Give him my best." Poor Cadejoth. But then, beggars can't be choosers. Hahahaha! The beggar sulks. K'del... he doesn't, but then, why would he? |
Comments
Azaylia said...
Lynner, stop being mean to the puppy! DX ...even if it is funny. Still! Hraedhyth will give you such a pinch (with her mouth). >:C Though it kind of makes me hope that Cadejoth can enact some sort of harmless revenge when he gets better. XD
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