Logs:Enough
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| RL Date: 15 January, 2014 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Solith, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Rh'mis and Rosvelth between, an unsettled Telavi seeks comfort. |
| Where: Bowl and View to a Kill Weyr (Telavi's), High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 24, Month 10, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Hattie/Mentions, J'vain/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, N'gan/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions, Rone/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated. (This log contains the shortest K'zin-pose to-date.) |
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| « I shall tell him you are ready. » Rasavyth's ooze is warm and especially comforting in this moment, reflecting sunshine and fresh breezes and all the things (that he knows of) that Solith likes best. In point of fact, while there never seems to be a problem speaking to Rasavyth about meetings with K'zin, today there's a subtle reassurance by way of showing Solith echoes of his communications with K'zin to help set not Solith's, but Telavi's mind at ease. Maybe he anticipates disaster anyway, or maybe he's just having a moment of being sensitive to wide-spread unsettled feeling of the day thanks to young Rosvelth and his Rh'mis. True to Rasavyth's words, when Solith arrives outside the crafters' area, K'zin is jogging in their direction. As one might expect from a day at the forge, he's grimey and soot-marked and smells of smoke, though he wastes no time in greeting Solith and climbing up to wrap his arms around Telavi and just stay there a moment before buckling in. Everyone Knows Telavi doesn't care for dirty people, but perhaps she'll make an exception because it's not overwhelming and it might even be interpreted as extra-manly. Besides, he's not even looking around to see who might be observing the P.D.A. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and that would be Telavi's excuse if she were pretending to have one instead of leaning back into K'zin, not-so-purely and not-so-simply relieved. After an admittedly girly greeting murmur, she doesn't say much on the ride up, which happens to not be as playful on Solith's part as usual; the green even forgoes the bumpy landing she sometimes does for fun, though not her confirming with Rasavyth once the humans are safely down. Nobody got dropped, not Rosvelth's-- even by Olveraeth's, so far-- not anyone. Tela's efficient about hanging up the straps, about collecting drinks-- a pitcher of previously-collected rainwater as well as harder stuff, though her hand lingers briefly on a packet of tea-- and then she's coming right back to K'zin for a full-body hug. Which leads to a thump of her forehead against his breastbone. "Ugh." Only it's the sad kind as well as frustrated, not far off from a sigh. "He-- actually, do you even know Rhey? Rh'mis?" Rasavyth shifts into a stretch after Solith has landed, stretching like a feline fresh from a nap. His agreement is that it's good no one was dropped, but that he had every confidence in her abilities, of course. (At least today. At least right now.) It's a reassuring timbre and an invitation as he resettles on his ledge for the green to join him once the humans have rock underfoot and she is no longer needed there. While Tela's being efficient, K'zin is finding her wash basin to at least clean his hands, and scrub under his nails as best he can. But he has the drying towel in hand by the time Tela's finding him and his arms wrap firmly around her to squeeze her gently. K'zin does the safest and probably smartest thing there is to do, nodding his head to her inquiry, letting her feel that slight movement through his chin settled atop her head. In that case-- it's not that Solith wants to stray far from her rider, in case of-- but it isn't so very far to Rasavyth's ledge, and after all he's fine with it, and so after a little more wavering there's a peek of her muzzle past the curtain to the inner weyr. Sometimes, Solith likes to see with her own eyes. Telavi turns her head without really lifting it, looking back at her; the green warbles quietly and, with that, willingly lets herself be convinced to glide over and visit. "Do you know..." Tela's dropped her voice, as though someone could hear past the two of them, "that he's not really... well, he's just not happy here? With it all? I'm so glad we didn't lose them." K'zin's grunt vibrates in his chest, against her cheek before it slinks up his throat and through closed lips. Another nod. Slowly, "This wasn't his choice. You and I... we got a choice. To Stand or not Stand. His... well, everyone's expected him to accept what's happened, but it's..." The bronzerider hesitates and his arms tighten around Telavi, "It's bad timing for him, I'd think." Then he shifts so he can reach up to brush his fingers along her hairline at her temple and then down over her ear. Maybe there's nothing to tuck, but he does it anyway, and tenderly. "But everything's okay. We didn't lose them." We, the greater we. We, the Weyr; we, the riders of every dragon who would have mourned Rosvelth's passing had things gone another way. The we that Rhey doesn't want to accept he's a part of. Her turn to nod. Quietly, "They say, too," that 'everyone,' "a dragon's going to be enough." Tela turns her head into his touch, into that warmth, not to dislodge nor even to encourage, exactly, but just to feel and be felt. She might not even know what more to say, yet. "Mine isn't." K'zin's tone holds no regret or apology when he says it. "I'd fancy that for most people that's a nice thing to say but is seldom ever true. K'del needs Weyrleadership. Cadejoth isn't enough. Maybe never was, but isn't now." Just for example. His hand moves to stroke along her braids. "Done for the day? Want to let your hair down?" "'Needs'? Hm." But Telavi doesn't say it as though it's important, not with everything else. She finds herself smiling and says, "Yes." Yes. "Though I can't promise not to talk about it some more-- he timed it, K'zin, and what if he can do it on purpose now? And-- I'm sorry, I called you from smithing, you need some water." She needs to pour it, at least if she doesn't have to move too far away to do it; dehydration is of the bad, and distraction of the good. "Not my words for it." K'zin answers with a brief grimace. But now's not the time for that. The man's clean fingers had just started to drift down her braids to start help with the undoing, but she's gone to get him water. But, he did just come from the forge, and water is good, even if he might've thought to have some before he came. He moves to lay a hand lightly on one of her shoulders, rubbing lightly. "I was just about done anyway." But only because he'd had a heads up that she was going to want him later. "He timed it." K'zin has to repeat it to think about it. The man's brow furrows, "Well, if he can do it on purpose, then he'll no doubt try it again sometime. Maybe he'll time it back to the raid on Rone's camp and it'll eventually come to light that our Rh'mmis killed the bastard." It's said in an off-handed sort of way, but there's something a little dangerous in his distraction now. No doubt at least one set of gears are turning, even if they're an oozy set that's within mental hearing and not his own. Tela's pouring's slowed with K'zin's touch, though she doesn't stop; when she's done, she turns within his arm to offer the glass, something she can do for him, even as she looks up at him and his furrowed brow. "I have to think so; he couldn't have held his breath that long," only then her breath draws in, quickly. Half in protest, "He's so young, K'zin." Only he's not that young and, besides, 'sometime' means older; in the next moment after hearing it out loud, it's that realization which dawns in the greenrider's eyes. K'zin accepts the glass, but doesn't drink immediately. His head tilts slightly and he reaches up to stroke her cheek instead of touch her shoulder. "He's really not, Telavi." It's a gentle correction. "He's not so much younger than I was when weyrlinghood started. And I gather he hasn't had an easy life. You know he's Nabolese, right?" And they both know the Nabolese have not had it easy the past few turns. He leans his face down to press a kiss to her forehead, and then he drinks. He shan't let her pouring efforts be in vain. He's not, is he. "I suppose not," is Tela's quiet murmur. "It doesn't seem like-- but you--" It's different. "I know; who could forget what happened?" Impression and otherwise, the burning and the... other things. At least in the here and now, Telavi can watch K'zin drink with quiet satisfaction, her cheeks rosier now... even if she does go and interrupt it with a question. "Did you see it, when he went for Rhey? I heard... he picked him out just like that, he didn't have to go all the way up for him, even." It's verging on wistful. "In a story, it'd be all better, he'd have found his dragon and they would have escaped the others and he'd be so glad; and later, when they could fly that far, they'd go back and save the others..." "I was no different. No less headstrong about things. Ask Quinlys. Ask her about when I muscled my way into Silver Thread lessons even though I didn't have a Thread." Not that it really happened that way, but, from his perspective... "It's different, now that you're partly responsible for them. Being a teacher... It's not a task I envy you, Tela. But you can't protect them from everything." It's quietly apologetic in tone. He shifts to place the cup back down where she got it from, and then he's wrapping an arm around her again and just holding her close. "I did. I was one of the ones to step in to make sure he got to his dragon when Rone's men started for him." Nevermind that Rhey started out as (apparently) one of Rone's men. "This isn't a story, Tela. If it were, there wouldn't be children still going hungry in Nabol." Telavi may have a certain bias where K'zin is concerned, but even so-- instead of speaking right at first, she plays with his shirt collar as she listens, grazing her fingers between skin and cloth. "I know. Though I wish..." and she must know he knows that, but somehow it has to be heard, too, if only by them and the stone of the room. It's not the warmest the cavern's ever been; she'd revived the fire but not had time to really tend it. "I'm glad you did," she says finally, not winding her arms about his neck in return and not even playing with his hair, for once, but lowering them to press her palms against the strong muscles of his back. As though they were armor, almost. "If it were a story, they might seem to go hungry for a little while, but they could have all they could want just as soon as the harper was done with the verse. What makes me worry... if you were headstrong with the silver threads, it was to join in, to take on opportunities, and Rhey, he does it to lock himself away. How can we ever speak to that, to him? If his dragon hasn't," that she knows of, not enough, "and we haven't yet... weyrlinghood is only so long." What time do they have left? "I know." K'zin answers her unspoken wish softly, again pressing a kiss to her forehead. It's the most he can do to answer the wish that will go unfulfilled. He'll take the part of hair playing. After all, she did say he could let it down, and so he slips his arms around her shoulders, letting the task keep them close as his fingers start to undo the carefully done braids. "My dragon is different than his dragon. He wanted different things for me. That's why I was headstrong about it. I didn't want it for myself." It's a soft confession but hardly the point. "Maybe it's too many people trying to get him to talk, trying to get him to be a part of this life that has him locking himself away. It's a lot of pressure all at once. Especially being a stands Impression. That, in of itself," For all that there was another in this clutch, "It sets him apart. Maybe-- How's he getting on with his mentor?" His tone is thoughtful, as though perhaps that avenue might yield more cheerful fruit. Telavi bows her head; she accedes to his freeing of her several smooth, ever so decorative, controlled and interlaced braids. Tended that way, she's careful not to nod, but her eyes do flick quickly up at his admission. Possibly she couldn't have controlled that if she'd wanted to. "Oh," she says, inadequately, wonderingly. And, no doubt, at least briefly imagining how different matters might have been. But, "Maybe. Maybe that's it, or part of it. N'gan might have at least some idea, though they come from very different... circumstances." But N'gan, though Telavi can't just now even manage the mental ugh. "His mentor..." "Don't get me wrong," comes the answer to the wondering 'oh,' half of K'zin's lips pulling up into a smile he can't help, "I'm glad I did too, in hindsight. I mean, it got me laid, Tela." His body bumps gently against her, while his forearms keep her shoulders in place so no hair is unpleasantly pulled as he continues to work at it, his chin resting gently alongside her temple now. A new degree of closeness. He makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, "N'gan is his mentor?" It's not really an 'ugh' so much as 'that sounds like an awful idea' in the bronzerider's tone when he asks it. This is serious conversation time. This is not giggle time. Telavi may not, quite, but just for a moment-- probably not so much despite as because of all that residual anxiety-- it's close. "Well... that's all right, then. Since there was some benefit." She rubs up against his chin, just a little, a little less careful about her own scalp than he is. Until that bluerider, as anyone's mentor, turns out to be anything but 'all right.' "No, no, not N'gan. I was just thinking he's someone else whose dragon found him in the Stands, who isn't ancient, that's all. Rhey's 'mentor,' well, they just don't get along. I'm not sure whether it's that he's Alpine--" which could have gone well, given that wing's Nabol involvement, but could also cut both ways, "or just the kind of man he is. If it had gone better..." What if, what if, what if. It is serious conversation time, so K'zin doesn't pursue the first matter beyond taking the opportunity to plant a kiss on her temple. His fingers continue to work the braids as he frowns, "Somehow, I don't think N'gan could relate to Rh'mis. Not even a little. Not even if he were trying. And it's--" The bronzerider winces a little and has to pause with the braids to lean back so he can reach down and tilt her face up because it's important she look at him when he says this, "I think it's that kind of logic that gets people in trouble with Rhey. Instead of taking Rhey as the individual, people expect him to be like other Stands Impressions, like other weyrlings, like other refugees, even. Ask yourself question about him. Why was he at the Weyr on hatching day? How did he end up as one of Rone's guards? Why did Rone go after him once he saw him? What did the Weyrleader or Weyrwoman say to him after he Impressed? What did Rone say to them? Does he resent Rosvelth? Does he like him? Some riders don't like their dragons. I remember everyone expecting me and Rasavyth to just be happy. They expected bronze to change me overnight, in very specific ways." Not that he's arguing that he has changed. "Or they expected me to be unchanged. One of the most frustrating parts for me was all the expectations. I'm not saying ceasing to have expectations of Rhey's experience will solve everything, or will make him want to talk to you, but it might be a first step." He takes a breath, "Not that I'm telling you how to do your job or anything. I just... I feel like maybe we have insights. And that might be a completely made up feeling, but I don't like seeing you frustrated." That's a lot of questions, and thus a lot of looking; after a few moments, Telavi lets her chin rest in his hands. She doesn't fade out, though she could; she keeps looking, listening, her lashes now and again lowering in a fleeting blink but only to rise again. Her gaze stays on his expression, the look in those brown eyes, the way he talks. Then she nods, more definitively. "It makes sense, K'zin. And it's good; it doesn't feel like you're trying to tell me how to do my job, what it feels like is how we worked together before," on the silver threads' assignments and otherwise. Teamwork. "The harder part is, how do we even answer these questions without going to pick him apart? Because this is making an assumption too, but I'm pretty sure he'd hate that, and clam up, and relax even less. We've tried to watch and see and change what we think from what we see, but..." Does he have insights into that too? "Truthfully," K'zin starts after a deep intake of breath, "You are probably stuck. Because you're an assistant weyrlingmaster. Because you are, in essence, the institution he wants nothing to do with, but that keeps intruding on his life. And I get that you have to. I'm not saying you're doing anything you shouldn't be. You're doing exactly as you should be. Teaching them, teaching Rosvelth, making Rh'mis sit through the classes on the things he'll inevitably need to know. "Even his mentor is probably not going to have any luck even if they did get along because he's sent by you, so to speak. "You need someone who can talk to him without him feeling like it's a trap." Even if it is. Now that's frustrating. Her lips purse against a sigh, and Tela looks at K'zin; "I don't like to be stuck," she breaks the shocking, shocking news. Even if she's doing what she's supposed to do, still. But then as he goes on... less in surprise than in confirmation of where her thoughts might already have been trending, her mouth takes on a different curve even before she says in so many soft words, "Someone like you?" Yeah, this was where K'zin didn't want to end up. His look for a moment is briefly like he regrets having said anything about Rhey at all; he should've stuck to nodding. His lips are tightly pressed together as answers are examined behind his eyes. "I wouldn't be a good choice, Tela." And here K'zin's arms slip from around her and he's stepping to her side, parting from her on the pretense of refilling his water cup. "Some... some of my secrets are bound up with his. I couldn't betray him without betraying myself." It's said carefully, seriously, and the pitcher is set back where it came from, though K'zin doesn't yet lift the glass. Though his look is brief, the way it registers in her eyes is not so much; she nods, once, turning her head rather than her body as he steps away. She doesn't ask, but waits, and in that much at least is rewarded... if not exactly rewarded. Betrayal. "It's like that, then," Tela says, quiet, a little rueful-- though not, this time, as though she takes it so very personally for all that it must touch her too. K'zin turns abruptly toward the blonde, "Would you prefer the requirement of keeping it from others, in my telling you? From Quinlys? From the people it might concern?" The questions are delivered quickly. "Prefer it to-- your not telling me at all?" It would seem obvious, but for this Telavi really can't assume. "Yes." It would be easy to say that: 'Yes.' It would be harder to keep it. She's silent a moment before blue eyes refocus on him. "I don't think you'd... this, if it were trivial. It were just him, I want to help; but unless there's something truly huge I don't know about-- my other loyalties, alliances, whatever, come first. When it's you--" "I know." K'zin's voice is hushed, but there's an edge that is pained and brown eyes regard Telavi seriously. "We don't have the luxury of being one another's greatest loyalty. You can't be that for me, and I can't be that for you. So we have to live with secrets." He reaches a hand toward her cheek, intending to brush the backs of his knuckles apologetically across it, "It doesn't mean I love you any less." "I know." It's Telavi who says it this time, before he even touches her. When he does, her lashes fall. "The question was rhetorical, I take it now, to remind me." Her mouth curves slightly, in the direction of a smile when she does look up. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot." In so many words, "Where were we?" "Mm, not sure, can't remember." K'zin makes the claim, but he's got that distracted look. Not the dragon-is-talking-at-me look, but the gosh-have-your-lips-always-been-right-there-and-so-kissable look. And sure enough a moment later he's twisting just a bit so he can lean toward claiming those lips. She didn't want to talk anymore right now, did she? Telavi recognizes that look, and purses those lips as she gives K'zin more of an amused, fond look-- for talk or no talk, it seems she doesn't feel like having any resistance just now to his particular demographic. Besides, Rosvelth and his rider are safe and sound, minus the odd strips of hide Quinlys has torn off, and she can't want to think of them or their provocateur right now anyway. For once, the kissing doesn't seem to lead somewhere beyond kissing, just now, though it does go on for some time before K'zin has to break it off to turn his head and cough, reaching down to pluck up the water glass and bring it to his lips. He drains it and pours another and once that's in hand, he's slipping his free one into one of hers and gently pulling her toward one of the couches. "So are you alright now?" Feeling alright now? There's both concern and curiosity in the question. Since no back-thwacking winds up being called for-- Tela had been watching him closely once she realized, if still a little hazy-eyed-- she spares but a glance back for the pitcher and what little's left in it before going along with him. "Better, definitely..." she murmurs, and though she pauses before actually finding a seat, it's only to remove the boots she always, always, just about always takes off before entering her inner weyr. "...Better." She neatens them up, one next to the other, before turning back toward him. "Better yet if it weren't also--" her look asks: does he want to hear more? "Weren't also-?" That's a solid invitation, though the price for his attentiveness seems to be the necessity of her settling into his lap hand reaching to reclaim hers now that the boots are tended and pulling her in that direction. K'zin, out of deference to Telavi's couch, is careful about the other hand, the one holding the glass of water. Telavi's couch, possibly even in response to such deference, deigns to accept them both; it's the older of the two, or at least the couch that Telavi's had longest, and has been spruced up since it came to live with her. Tela not only keeps holding K'zin's hand, but the way she tucks up against him-- if with her knees bent, still-stockinged toes curled between the couch's cushions-- bears a close resemblance to cuddling. The topic of conversation, though... "Not just him, but this other weyrling, getting into each other's faces, and you know how things can escalate," only right as she's about to go on, that last syllable still lifted, she looks to meet his gaze. So he knows this too, "Quinlys asked us not to talk 'too much' about it." So if that gets out, it's not like he and J'vain are known to be bosom buddies... but it's also not as though she was told to guard this secret with anyone's life. K'zin's hand moves for a moment like it would like to sneak away, to do something more about the braids, but even then he'd only have one hand and be limited. "You should drink some water." It's why he brought it, and the arm holding the cup curls around Telavi's back to offer itself up to the greenrider. "I don't have a reason to say anything to anyone." He has to think a moment, "Ras doesn't at present." Which isn't particularly reassuring, "But I think you're safe there too. He prefers to collect secrets, not give them away." Without a really good exchange rate. "What other rider?" At the movement even more than the words, Tela glances towards the cup as though she might drink from it directly, only then with a small smile she takes it after all. No, the rest isn't so reassuring, but it seems she'll take that too. "A'rist, as it happens." Her mouth squinches up to one side, but then she drinks even before she asks, "Do you know him, too? To talk to?" That's for the best. The angles are awkward, and Tela likely would've ended up with more of the water on her than in her if she'd tried it. "A'rist." K'zin repeats in a way that sounds resigned. "Not yet." Beat. "But I will. Been speaking to Quinlys this seven. About the bronzeriders. Part of my punishment for chasing in the senior flight is to mentor them." "What, not a reward?" Telavi murmurs, glancing sidelong at him-- though not through her lashes. This time, after she sips, she dips her fingers in the water and touches them tentatively to her temples. "Because alternately telling them to do as I do or not do as I've done is how I want to spend my free time?" K'zin answers with a raise of his brow. Maybe, as he sometimes does, he misses intended humor. Don't worry, he'll probably (as he sometimes does) realize in a moment and blush in the way that she likes. "Or other people have done, or indoctrinating them in the ways of-- what ways do you think they should have?" Telavi wonders. "You could teach them to draw." A dimple shows, briefly. "Should I use you as an example of my work?" K'zin's distracted from any forthcoming realizations by the opportunity to waggle his brows at the greenrider, his now free hand wrapping around her middle to pull her closer to him (mind the water!). Telavi's all too quick to blush, now, and she says reprovingly-- belied by how she's also all too ready to be drawn in like that-- "If it were something like you drew for my uncle, that would be all right." Which is to say: safe. And then she quickly sips more of the water, just in case. "Mm. No, I was thinking something a little closer to the one I've been working on lately. You're making this amazing face..." The suggestion is impossible to miss, and in fact, the way K'zin's finger is tracing her midsection now... Well, his thoughts aren't on weyrlings anymore. Possibly not even on drawing. Nor does she, which doesn't help Tela's blush any, and she shifts where she sits. There was something else she'd been about to say, something about the weyrlings-- maybe later. Just now, "...Why don't you come see my stars. I don't know if I told you, but one day they appeared, just like that," and she nods with her chin across the way without ever looking too long from his face. "Did they." K'zin's lips curl into a pleased smile, his finger stilling on her middle. "Well, you know I do like star-gazing." The phrase is delivered with slow deliberation, "Only..." Trailing, it invites her to ask. Telavi knows her line, but she finishes her water first, tipping the glass enough to show it's empty; she doesn't touch her temples this time, despite the hint of lingering strain. Then, as ingenuously as ever a weyrling asked a starcrafter, "'Only...'?" "Only, you had that look you get when you have something else to say, and if we go right now, we're going to be right in the middle of things and you're going to start talking about the weyrlings, or something," K'zin probably doesn't really think this would be the case, or hopes it wouldn't, anyway, but in the delivery, it's made to sound both convincing and humorous. "So, out with it. So we can get to other things uninterrupted." What does Telavi give K'zin for that? A dark look. An egregiously betrayed look. And then a sigh that holds absolutely nothing of repentance. She leans down to set the glass on the low table, taking her time; then she leans in, to cup his cheek with one hand and offer him a contrastingly sweet, artless kiss before she starts in. It's slow at first. Her gaze unfocuses after a little while, no longer meeting his, thinking. "A'rist... he used to work in the stables. He's younger than Rhey. His dragon's a handful but not... unpredictable. Here it sounds as though it was mostly the human weyrlings, though." It's not so much that she stops as takes a moment's breather. K'zin won't be fooled this time, into kissing anymore than strictly necessary, or getting distracted by the way she's moving. Ignore that small sigh of frustration. It means nothing! "And?" He encourages. The encouragement is purely because he wants to hear what she has to say and definitely not because some of his thoughts are straying toward stargazing. His expression remains patient, despite whatever mental angling is going on. "And," Tela says, and there's a moment where her teeth find her lower lip, but then she lets it go. "I don't know yet if A'rist was trying reverse persuasion, I haven't heard his part yet. But apparently it was something like, 'If you don't want to be here, go away!' and then 'Fine, I will!' and right there was where talking hands would usually be employed but tonight, they just aren't. "So they did." Her expression, it isn't so much starry-eyed as strained. "I wonder..." K'zin starts and then trails off, his expression distant. "I wonder if he'd like it better to be assigned tasks that had meaning to him." A single hand comes up to scratch at his chin, and legs shift slightly underneath her, but only half of his mind is in the here and now while the other half... it's probably with that clever (occasionally tolerable) bronze of his. "Nabol is where he's from. Where he went to, as I understand things," Because gossip gets around quickly when something unsettles the whole Weyr, even when it's supposed to be under wraps. "So I expect he won't be permitted to between for a while, since that'd be encouraging him, but once he can.., maybe start him, after the basic stuff, on trips to different parts of Nabol. Have him spend time on the ground there, working with his dragon to do things. Like helping the farmers uproot trees, clear debris, burn the fields even. Make his weyrling lessons mean something to his people. If that's how he thinks of them. But that-- I'm not sure really if he does. Now that Rone is dead..." Then K'zin shakes his head. "I'd say let him poke about the politics of it all, but probably no one," Except maybe the bronze pair themselves, "-would be particularly happy with a nosy weyrling. Even if weyrlings can get away with things regular riders can't." "Most people would," Telavi murmurs, shifting when he does in order to stretch her back before resettling. She nods, of course, for Nabol; nods again for things that might mean something-- 'if.' And then, though a dimple doesn't quite show up, she's at least visited by the ghost of a smile; "I suppose you'd quite possibly be the expert on nosy weyrlings." She, of course, always kept her nose to herself. "Is it a lot harder? Now that you're a 'real rider'?" No talking hands, but there are-- admittedly singlehandedly-- air quotes. "No, no," K'zin denies the title. "Clearly that honor goes to you." And here, his finger finds her nose to boop it. But he smiles at her affectionately when he does it. "I mean, asking young, impressionable bronzeriders about what book they were learning about sex from after breaking his nose with one's head isn't nosy at all, but I'm thinking of other times." The bronzerider's shoulders roll then to answer her question. "There's more at stake. You have to have more tact and be less obvious because you can't just pass it off on, 'sorry, I'm still learning, teach me more?'" Boop. Boop. Tela's eyes cross, charmed despite herself-- though it can't slow her from teasing, "I seem to recall that said bronzerider brought up the book first, so I'm glad you agree with me there." This is Telavi, not asking about those 'other times,' not yet. No, she's following up, "Mmm. No real surprises there, I suppose," and maybe she'd sound regretful rather than wistful about the lack of revelation, if he weren't getting to be distracting like that. "Only after someone brought up this strange, new idea of 'tonguing." K'zin protests, his voice lifting to add credence to the argument. Credence that is not supported by his big, goofy grin. One hand settles on her thigh. Guess what K'zin is thinking about now. Tela has a demure little shrug when she chooses; yes, yes, she does admit to that, without even-- this time-- further justification. Not only does she find herself smiling right back into that grin, then, she lifts a fingertip to trace the line of his nose. "I'm glad you turned out all right." Then, "I also seem to recall hair-brushing being involved." "Did I?" K'zin questions, brow furrowing. His lips lose the grin, but then after a moment there's a smile to go with, "Or did you just mean so far as the tonguing goes?" And on that note, his muscles are flexing under her, one arm slipping below her knees to hold her against his chest as he rises and starts moving toward the bed and the stars to be gazed upon there. Delve into another deep topic directly, this one without any actual answers and a high chance of woe? Or quip, "Not to mention your nose," teased with Tela's own nose in the air before she leans in to kiss him, which is exactly what she goes to do. Unlike those earliest days, there's no glance down at the floor, no thought as to whether he might drop her; no, she's quite content to play, and then they're off to see stars. |
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