Logs:Hard Life for Dragons
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| RL Date: 8 August, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, N'rov |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Vhaeryth and Iesaryth must put up with a lot from their riders, including discussion of executions and getting naked. Because those two things totally go together! |
| Where: Somewhere in High Reaches' Area |
| When: Day 16, Month 6, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: K'del/Mentions, E'dre/Mentions, A'ryk/Mentions |
| Not out of nowhere, Vhaeryth: « We got her note. » It's a scrap of hide, tossed on the wind, at once lifted and borne down on the possessive's emphasis. Iesaryth is listening; listening to talk, listening for gossip, listening to her rider - looking for little shifts and changes in her mental makeup that herald something not-right. Perhaps listening for Vhaeryth, for quickly sent across the waves, « We'll go, if you can. » Just like that. Not always, but right now. They can, they'll go; the sunlight glints off the metal and the waves both - for while her mood might be slightly darkened by her rider's, Iesaryth still gets to fly, gets to go. For once! Though she's impatient with her inability to just pop on over there like he might, she passes over a crisp, clear image of Nabol, then their orchards, one after another. « We may take some time. » Wryly, mildly irritable. However crisp and clear, still he checks, in case. There's a shiver of cold... and then a question, after all: « Are you leaving from your weyr? » Her own place, around which is the Weyr of High Reaches. Vhaeryth might lurk outside, far enough out that he doesn't have to answer to any watchdragon, much less Cadejoth, far enough that he might join her in that straight flight. So it's less boring, the flying. (And the waiting.) If she likes! Now amused, always quick to change her mood for the better, « Where else? » And Iesaryth warms, in both waters and her tenor, waves turquoise under sunlight. She would like that. They both would like that. Especially avoiding questioning; that gives her particular satisfaction - something about it still bothers the gold; she does what she likes. Like flying to Nabol's orchards with Vhaeryth, whether they like it or not. So may other places: Fort's Ruatha, the northern mountains, a minehold's caverns made gigantic so that Iesaryth might whimsically fly through them... and on that note, there he is, up ahead! And then his neck stretches out... and he vanishes! ...only to reappear behind her, gaining ground, trumpeting delightedly. Did she see? It was a trick! A fun trick! And look, they're going now! It probably should embarrass N'rov, astride his neck and waving, but maybe he's afflicted by some of the bronze's exuberance too. Iesaryth isn't without her own excitement to have Vhaeryth for a companion for once, even if he's going to show off and make her a little sulky about how she could probably do exactly that right now just as well as he could, clearly. Because she's so brilliant. But even so, her greeting is a bright enough warble in return; she'll forgive him for going the slow way along with her. If Aishani-hiding-as-Brieli is entertained, it's hard to tell - but she's waving in return, and it looks like she might be smiling, way over there. Vhaeryth dips a wing, without even underscoring how much of a favor he's doing her by taking the slow way, and keeps flying, but not the boring way. No, he's much more inclined to toss out the window anything and everything he's learned in wing drills: no keeping to formations here, but rather ducking into her wingspace and away, up and down, straightforward for quite a while but then another boisterous burst of energy when someone might have thought he'd relaxed. Hello, hello, hello. But after a while, when he does bring words back, it's more curious than outright playful: « Better? » How is it, underwater? How can Iesaryth remain in her sulk when Vhaeryth goes out of his way to be so... himself? In the same vein, it's not really in her nature to follow, but only to keep wingbeats steady, her flight easy - and when it seems as if she might never change, it's like a wind rippling a pond; she'll dive suddenly and sedately, or veer off to the left, as if it were planned. Maybe, maybe not. Bright, « Yes. » Under the water, there's shafts of light that illuminate the surface, but it's much darker below; the thought-fish are slower as she gives herself over to flight. Perhaps he's one of her fish, embodied, the way he darts after her dive only to mirror her veer to the right; certainly he doesn't demand following from either one of them, but sometimes, sometimes it's fun. « Good, » Vhaeryth replies, and dips his wingtip towards hers once again. And he may be in no hurry, but after a while... as they make it past the dense forests, there's a series of valleys split by the silver ribbon of a river, and his rider gestures toward one of the less trafficked-looking ones and then adds an exaggerated shrug: how about there? Down in the meadow, where it's sunny and green, and never mind the bovines that graze there too. She'd be just as happy to fly as long as she can, letting him dart about her like a fish and follow her as he likes in the warm air, but there must be a landing eventually for some people's sake; there's a shrug from her rider that's a near-mirror - why not? - and Iesaryth begins her leisurely descent towards the sunny green meadow, unsurprisingly unlikely to go diving for a landing. And possibly warned not to send the bovines scattering in terror, lest the Weyr hear from Holders later. Belatedly, suddenly, as if someone realized that might be smart to pass along, « Please don't scare them. » The bovines. Or kill them. That too. « Or eat them, » Vhaeryth supposes on a long exhalation that, combined as it is with an avid whirl of his eyes towards the beasts, may be less than reassuring. Because he could eat them quickly (since he managed to miss the not-killing part), so they wouldn't be scared... instead, he too descends with more grace than his size and energy deserve, if only to not land on one of the bovines' leavings. The ground shakes beneath him even so. His claws tighten into the grassy dirt, cleanly. His rider unclips his straps and then yawns, hugely, into the sunshine: the first time he's been able to enjoy the heat without its being whipped away. And then come the removing of goggles, the sliding down, the crossing over, the reuniting. "Hey," he says, holding out his hands to her. Sadly, « Yes. » Iesaryth sounds apologetic for that; it is kind of ridiculous to be around food and not kill or eat it, or even give it a little scare, just for fun. But no, none of that for them, today. She's still small enough that it's not much effort to find a neat landing; to settle easily without any ground-shaking, though she is always growing. Her rider isn't able to slide down her side until the gold's settled her wings satisfactorily - but boots hit the ground quick enough when she can, her helmet tossed aside as she tries very hard not to just run into his arms. Even so, she's there in a moment, her own sliding about his waist. "Hey," she echoes quietly. She won't be there long, in leathers, in this heat - but just for a moment. N'rov doesn't run to meet her, not when it's more fun to wait for her to come get him... and then aim to scoop her higher against him. "Hey, 'Shani," he says, deliberately, but there's no pause for deliberation in his grin. "You look good in those leathers. Aren't you hot in those leathers?" Not that he's letting go of her yet. He might need convincing! It's enough to make even Vhaeryth roll his eyes again, and then to lower himself into the tickly grass, because if he gets down far enough, maybe the bovines won't see him that way. Or maybe they'll just see his eyes, bright green and whirling, cheerful portents of doom. There's little that Aishani won't let N'rov do in aim of getting her closer to him, so there's no real resistance. That grin, that grin and her name coax a smile out of her, wide and bright despite how tired she might look up close. "Hey N'rov," she mimics, tone too warm to be anything but teasing. "Thank you. How do you mean hot? I'm warm, yes..." She's not trying to escape his hold just yet, even so. While the bronze rolls his eyes, Iesaryth will just be pleased; the sun is warm, things are better, and while Vhaeryth may eat a bovine, that's not really her problem. She settles herself down to wrap tail about her and watch what happens. "Hot as summer?" N'rov offers, grinning up at her. "Hot as," and here he ducks his head, aiming to not so much tickle her neck as to undo the nearest fastening with his teeth, only... only then his back stiffens a little. Maybe it's the angle, maybe it's only what he's picking up from Vhaeryth, but, "She's staring at us," he says into her skin. Vhaeryth? Entertained, his tail swishing the grass back and forth like a particularly ineffectual scythe. "Oh?" That's the first time, then definitely not a question, as Aishani sighs, "Oh..." Because if that's how N'rov wants to go about getting her out of her leathers, she's okay with being warm in them a little longer. But then, there's no more of that, and she's blinking down at him - sort of, the best she can - then has to take a moment to check, brows drawing together. "She's... not really. She's watching him, but... move if it bothers you?" By her tone, she doesn't mind either way. Iesaryth, for her part, now has to stare. At N'rov. In as creepy a way as possible. Shani tries not to laugh, but... Smug Vhaeryth: it worked! Go, Iesaryth! So now he's staring too, which means that N'rov not only has to twist enough to keep Aishani between him and her dragon, he also has to try and duck Vhaeryth too, and then stifle his laughter in the nearest suitable spot. Which may bear a close resemblance to Aishani's chest, sadly leather-clad though it is. Finally, still breaking up with humor every few words, "Stop it, you lot. It isn't anything you haven't seen before. Shoo." He waves his free hand. Maybe she'll have better luck? It doesn't take much to make Iesaryth do something odd, especially when in a decent mood - but she's also less likely to give her rider a hard time, so whatever goes on between them is enough for the gold to settle for the laughter and smug Vhaeryth; she moves over to nudge the bronze and settle there. Look at the bovines, leave them alone. This time. Aishani is still laughing, now flushed from that and the warmth, and being held against him; her lips find the top of his head, his forehead, and against his skin, she has to admit, "You know, I don't know if they've actually seen..." But she can't finish the thought, shaking her head, almost giggling. "You take a bath?" N'rov completes ingenuously, and then sees what he can do to turn that almost-giggling into a reality now that Vhaeryth's sighed an even gustier sigh and permitted Iesaryth to distract him. Next time, they'll have to go somewhere with lots of wild wherries and make their riders wait around for them. Right? But in the meantime, it's harder for N'rov to tickle Aishani with leathers on her, so those will clearly have to go, even if he has to set her down long enough for that to be accomplished. Though that could be dangerous. "It is a small room," Aishani will agree soberly. And Iesaryth will agree to that - she's as impatient as any dragon to be to go anywhere she likes when she likes, and though again, she is less inclined to make her rider wait, she'll generously do so for Vhaeryth. She understands payback. Somehow. As for setting down Aishani, it's only really dangerous in the sense that she might be just be interested in getting N'rov out of his, and whatever else he's wearing. So, all right, chances seem likely that they'll get themselves divested of leathers plus whatever too-hot garments remain, and generally get to celebrate seeing-touching-being with each other again, but eventually when they've cooled down a little (and retrieved a blanket from Vhaeryth just in case there are any crawlies creeping around that grass, and a waterskin while N'rov's at it)... "How are you doing," he says with more seriousness, petting her growing-out hair. Those might have been good things to think of ahead of time, blanket and waterskin, but it never seems all that important in light of seeing-touching-being with each other again, and if she's a little reluctant to let him go after - even just for that short trip - that might be reason enough for the question, even without the note. Aishani doesn't seem to want to let go even now, eyes closed as he strokes her hair - now just around her shoulders. "Better now," she murmurs. "Tired. I try not to think about it. How are you? How is it... being there?" It really never does. At least, if Vhaeryth is to be trusted, there wasn't any herder roaming around for a glimpse of the run. "It's..." N'rov now hesitates, more in voice than the run of his fingertips, curving her hair about the shape of her ear. "We're being encouraged to go to the summer Gathers, play around. I don't know how it's going to be, going forward. I guess we're supposed to forget it." She doesn't tense or twitch; she just sighs. Voice low, "Their families won't forget. Their friends. The only people who forget have reason to." To her credit, there's no bitterness in her voice. Aishani is just weary - more so than she ought to be. Over a sigh, "I'm sorry. I don't want to make this... awful." Leaning in, she kisses him gently before, "I'm sorry that you had to... be around it." Listening, his hand stills momentarily at last, only then she kisses him and he can't seem to help himself, his mouth curves in the direction of a smile anyway. "Missed you," he says. His hand shapes the back of her head, now, and the corded muscle that leads down her neck: missed you, missed you, missed you. "They must have more friends than each other," N'rov says finally. "Her daughter... one of my clutchmates, and my wingsecond, they're adopting her, Aishani." "Oh, I missed you," she whispers, in a rush - like him saying it makes it all right for her, and she kisses that smile, the ghost of her own appearing for a second as she does. Aishani's arm around N'rov still won't budge but to tighten around him; she rests her forehead against his as he speaks, closing dark eyes again, letting out a slow breath. It takes time, but eventually, "That's better than some of the alternatives. But you never know. There'll be things they can't answer. Even lies don't hold up forever." A pause. "But it's better than it could be." N'rov sighs, a little deeper, but he also relaxes a little more. "I don't know how they're going to go about it," he admits. "We're not... like that. But, I do think they mean to treat her right, to really take care of her, and it's not like they're going to have any of their own." There's only a slight breeze, but he's quiet for a little while longer, listening to it ripple across the grass. Finally, uncomfortably, "She didn't have too good a time of it, with her mom, that I saw. But it's not like I saw her more than a couple of times." With the smallest smile as she feels him relax, she can admit, very softly, "If I were her family, I might not think it right. If there's any idea of where they might be. But I suppose if the first decision was made, presuming to decide where a child is to be raised isn't much of a concern." Again, Aishani is just wry; it's not as if she'll blame N'rov for any of it. "There's some saying, about the best of intentions." The air is warm enough that the breeze doesn't bother her, nor does the silence. Though; "It's hard to say. She won't care, though. Not if they hide it from her. You can pass that along or not, though I would rather you didn't source it, thank you." He nods against her hair, slowly, accepting. And then he pets her again, as the breeze might, but more solidly: no attempt to tickle this time, just to soothe as she's soothed him. "I don't know how they could hide it from her, here," N'rov admits. "The mother claimed she had family, claimed she was scared of her mother... if it comes up, if it seems a risk, maybe I'd pass it along, but I don't know even then. And no. I won't tell." Slow, easy strokes that he must enjoy all at the same time, slowing further. "Tell me what's going on where you are? What are you learning, what's fun," what matters, his voice says for him. After taking all that in, considering it, despite the way she seems to be soothed as she settles against him, "It's a risk, if they're out there, ready to cause trouble. But I imagine they're watching for it." Aishani sighs again, this time more of a pleased, contented sound than a heavy one, enjoying his touch as well, the warmth of the sun. "My dress," she notes, with an amused little twist of a grin for how it sounds, "Is ready for the wedding." And she'll talk about that for a little while, and more dance lessons after - talk until what he's doing is distracting enough that her own hands go wandering in interesting directions, and dragons have to go on holder-watch again before they both have to go home. Poor dragons. It's a rough life. They didn't know they were signing up for this! No one tells the dragons. It's true. Unfair. So, so, so unfair. |
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Comments on "Logs:Hard Life for Dragons"Azaylia (Dragonshy) left a comment on Thu, 09 Aug 2012 01:04:16 GMT.
Aw.
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