Logs:Foreign Skies
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| RL Date: 3 August, 2013 |
| Who: Cadejoth, Isyath |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Isyath and Cadejoth share experiences and make plans. |
| Where: Sky over Tillek / Sky over Ista |
| When: Day 4, Month 6, Turn 32 (Interval 10) |
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| A sparkling of delighted stars spins outwards: she's somewhere warm, /not/ Fort, and the air currents are different and delightful- she can't help but to /share/. (To Cadejoth from Isyath) Somewhere warm? Somewhere not Fort? Cadejoth is jealous. He has nothing but endless sweeps over Tillek, and though the water is blue(ish) far below, it's nowhere new and interesting. Still: he's glad to her sake! (To Isyath from Cadejoth) Tillek, definitely, does not interest her. Although there is the winds off the ocean, and the ships underneath... no, she won't get distracted. Okay, maybe a little. Surely, the winds off the island, his (and to judge by her possessive tone, /her/) island are much better? (To Cadejoth from Isyath) Their island, Cadejoth will allow, magnanimously. After all, he hasn't (as far as he can remember) shared those winds with anyone else, so if he's going to share with anyone... He's quick to confirm that yes, those winds are far superior than these ones, even without the ships. But why is she somewhere warm, if she's not at Fort, and not with him? Unfair. (To Isyath from Cadejoth) A distant spray of water reflects off her stars for a moment, turning the landscape brighter with the sense of another dragon. It's familiar in a distant way- like maybe someone Cadejoth's met in passing at best. « She wants to make sure Fort and High Reaches is well again. » Which doesn't /really/ explain why the sandy, black beaches of Ista flash in her thoughts, but it's truthful for all that. (To Cadejoth from Isyath) Another dragon? Huh! Not that Cadejoth's the jealous type, and really, he seems pleased that she's enjoying herself, even without him. « Aren't we all well? We should be. » That familiarity is considered and then ignored soon after, irrelevant to Cadejoth's ongoing good mood, and the sensation of wind beneath his wings. (To Isyath from Cadejoth) « We should be. » Isyath doesn't seem to think that anything's wrong, but humans- in particular /her/ human- worries about many things. They flash through the Fortian's thoughts in quick succession: an empty weyr; a flash of rubble; a younger child playing on the floor of her weyr. « Too many thoughts, » the queen concludes. « Later, we should fly in /our/ skies. Yours makes mine forget about these things for a time. » (To Cadejoth from Isyath) Silly humans. Cadejoth doesn't worry; why should he? He doesn't understand these things her rider worries about, though there's a good chance he's sharing them with his rider, given his brief silence. Then: « Far too many thoughts. We should. We will. We finish our sweep in a couple of hours. » And no, he won't be too tired for further flying. No way, no how. (To Isyath from Cadejoth) « Two hours. » She considers. Does she consult with her rider? Likely not- this is /Isyath/, after all. « We will make it in time. » In the meantime, there's the delight of a sudden, unexpected savage burst of warm air to lift her higher, and the void that follows that makes her drop like a stone, too. (To Cadejoth from Isyath) Does Cadejoth? Oh - who knows on that count, really; the bronze's moods shift so. « We will see you there, then, » he concludes, leaning in to enjoy her antics-- and sharing some of his own. His, granted, are far less interesting, but that's not what matters in the end, is it? Such fun! (To Isyath from Cadejoth) |
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