Logs:First Flames (Rasavyth and Solith)
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| RL Date: 22 May, 2013 |
| Who: K'zin, Rasavyth, Telavi, Solith |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Rasavyth and Solith experience their first flames. |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 11, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Sh'mel/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Part 2 in series of month 11 snippets between Tela and K'zin. Preceded by Logs: Sh'mel's in charge. Right?. |
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| Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake. At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space.
Solith's not only small but narrow-nosed. She gets some of the smallest pieces, some of them little more than the dust that clings to Telavi's gloves, and while some might expect her to be delicately fastidious, it's not so far from the crunched bone that's part and parcel of a different course. They might as well be in their own little world, impossible to say how much even unperceived influence affects them and how it might float right through, Telavi pressing the importance of following these directions into the dragon: chew, second stomach, swallow, again and again. They had the feeling from Isath of what it should be like, and Telavi keeps it in the forefront of her head, focusing on that and not warnings about tongues that would only encourage Solith to bite hers accidentally instead. It's like avoiding thinking of the pink wher in the middle of the room, and Telavi has had a great deal of practice with that. 'Good, Solith,' she encourages when the chewing is done. It might as well be, 'Good Solith.' She lets the green lick the palms of her gloves. She doesn't squirm, doesn't grimace, doesn't smile. Confident, that's what she has to be, followed by finally looking about to remind herself of who's where and who's not walking directly in front of them, her hand now cupping the top of Solith's muzzle right above her nostrils, reminding her to keep it down. There are shouts around them, groans, flares and fizzles. She waits. There's no hurry, she tells Solith like she means it, and she can feel Solith believing her. She won't think of how long it actually takes. She waits, and when suddenly there's fire before them and the smell of scorched earth, it's everything it should be. It's an anticlimax, maybe, but they're safe. That's what has to matter. She has to keep Solith safe. Safe is good. Safe is appreciated, both because they're Telavi and Solith and because it would be K'zin doing the hidework on any accident that happened under his watch. A warm grin is given to Telavi, encouraging and approving all at once. He tips his head respectfully to the greenrider when he catches her eye before he's turning his head back to Ras, encouraging the dragon to spend what he's got left in the tank after a thorough look 'round as a safety check. On the drill goes; thankfully no one gets crispy (much), though there might be a little loss of arm-hair for a weyrling or two standing too close to their flaming lifemates. |
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