Logs:Dart
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| RL Date: 14 October, 2015 |
| Who: Alida |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: A hard habit to break. |
| Where: Alida's Rest and Relaxation Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 1, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Cold, sunny. |
| Mentions: M'kris/Mentions, R'hin/Mentions |
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| She awoke late the next morning after her bender with some of her wingmates, Alida's head throbbing in time with her pulse, her mouth tasting like the inside of an old boot. Turnover'd been even more somber than usual with the loss of R'hin...many candles lit to remember the Weyr's dead, many stories told and drinks consumed. Ilicaeth was still asleep, curled up in his couch, the blue knowing there'd be no 'work' for them, this day after...unless having to deal with his human's hangover was factored in, of course. It was as she carefully stretched in her bed, and slowly, carefully began to climb out that it hit her between the eyes like a bolt, an arrow. No, not an arrow. A *dart*. There'd be no more weekly game of darts pitting Savannah against Glacier, no more loud boasts, flung pieces of metal, loud cheers, and laughter (or boos) ringing out in the Snowasis. Not *that* way. R'hin had been the instigator of the 'tradition.' It was mete, as he'd been Wingleader of both Wings. She just couldn't see Savannah staying, if M'kris went...and go he would, somehow, some-when. A low, pained little groan - not bourne from hangover alone - escaped the woman's lungs, and she found herself reclining again, pulling the bedclothes up over her chin as she closed her eyes against the faint bits of sunlight peeking around her hanging. The relentless pressure of her full bladder could wait another minute or two, given its insistence that she rise was minutely less than the weight of her loss. |
Comments
Edyis (00:58, 14 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Provides plenty of trashtalking with Snowdrift.
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