Logs:Idiots and Their Dragons
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| RL Date: 1 July, 2015 |
| Who: Dee, Ka'ge, Taeliyth, Zymadiath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Taeliyth and Zymadiath's idiots are still idiots. Their dragons are still less than pleased. |
| Where: Weyrling Sunroom, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 23, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ead/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Teengers. So much teenagers. |
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>---< Weyrling Sunroom, Fort Weyr >------------------------------------------< Lying beyond the screen is another, smaller room that has been built jutting out into the Bowl, its walls constructed from sheets of thick, plain glass. Ventilation has been built into the roof, though there is also a single door that allows passage through and out into the Bowl. It's a simple space, bright and airy, with only a handful of soft, bright upholstered chairs and thick rugs to sit on. Smaller seminars may be held here, or young dragons can spend time soaking up the sun when their riders are in lessons or studying in the classroom. -----------------------------< Active Players >----------------------------- Dee F 17 5'9" sturdy, dk. brown hair, hazel eyes 0s Ka'ge M 16 5'11" toned, black hair, blue-green eyes 2m It's some early hour of the morning, that hour when Ka'ge used to think it was late and almost time to sleep. Now, it seems it's the start of day, real days. Days with relentless routines. It was hard to adapt to, still is, for one who used to walk the night hours. And because of this and other reasons, intermittently he retreats to the sunroom to find slightly more restful sleep. And it's worked, more or less, since right now he's stretched out on one of the heavy rugs. No pillow, no blanket, just on his side, one arm bent and tucked under his head, the other beside his partially-covered face. Zymadiath isn't immediately seen, but on further inspection could be found laying along his back. In his shadow, of course, as sunlight starts to fill the room. Dee shouldn't be surprised by finding Ka'ge and his lifemate asleep here, and yet she is, looking briefly alarmed and accusatory at the lifemate that has herded her and now settles in the entry, fanning her wings as if in lazy stretch: no exit here. For a moment, it seems like Dee is about to defy whatever expectation the dragon has of her. Then her eyes settle on the boy and her shoulders wilt whatever stubbornness was going to stand in her way. She crosses the space as quietly as she might in her socked feet, still dressed in her night things, but with a cozy sweater some sizes too large sagging around her legs for warmth and comfort. She sinks to her knees next to the weyrling, fingers drumming on them as she considers her next move, if indeed she has to make one. Taeliyth, by contrast, has no hesitation in filtering the growing sunlight into Zymadiath's thoughts as well. Wakey, wakey~ "Hey." Ka'ge's almost-whisper may be startling one given it's said almost at the moment Dee sits beside him. It's groggy enough to indicate he wasn't faking the sleep, but quick enough to suggest maybe even her sock-quieted steps woke him from that slumber. "Honoring me with your presence?" The second thing to slip through his mouth is humored, sarcastic, and drawn out as he shifts to roll onto his back without laying ontop of the dragonet beside him. One of his arms is drapped across his head, blue-green eyes slanted to regard her expression. Zymadiath, on the other hand, was more asleep than his chosen. Sunlight meets the kind of blackness that is so heavy, it can't be nothing but is, a conciousness that is shrouded so heavily in the dark could it ever be pierced by that light? Rousing it causing fuzzy changes at the edges where it meet's the weyrling queen's mind. Ghosts drawn from shadow. Figments are slow and slower still, indiscernible except maybe that figure there may have blinked sleep from absent eyes. But as much as it could have been something, it's unformed and reforming into some other indiscernable thing. Greeting comes unspoken, the shadow present now, aware, watchful. These sorts of interactions would no doubt be easier on Ka'ge's sarcasm if Dee didn't always start off with things like "I miss you," where her tone leaves no lack of certainty that she means the words and when one hand reaches to press curled knuckles lightly against his chest, near his heart, their wiggle becoming a light massage that seems more a need for contact paired with her self-restraint. She wait, impatiently watching the trio. Already feigning disinterest with the exchange between their idiots, she offers, « She's getting her hair cut today. » It's only slightly more interesting. Maybe. Ka'ge's head turns just a touch, enough that his gaze can watch hers. He lifts the hand at his side as if to join hers, but he never makes it that far, falling to his stomach instead. There was hesitation there though, indeciding whether or not to hold her hand, and he did a terrible job at hiding it. The massage makes him quiet for a few moments before he offers, "You see me everyday." Those words, while not quite the exact same he used on that day are used with a slow deliberance, and with a grin that's toned down its smugness from seconds before. "What's on your mind?" The shadows's presence on the edge of Taeliyth's mind come eventually in response in its rough tones, « And she cares? » Does the darkness? It's uncertain, crouched as he is within them. « She cares that he might care, which is the most ridiculous thing to waste time being worried over given everything else. » Taeliyth's disapproval is clear, but there's no getting around teenagers being teenagers. « Will you just ask him if he'll like her less with short hair? » and cut through all the bullshit, her tone implies. "Not the same," Dee murmurs. "You're different when it's all of us and you know it." Not that the same can't be said of her. "I want her to stop being angry with me." She starts with that though there are so many other things she could say to answer his question. « Tip: » comes the cutting annoyance of the gold, « Don't talk about me as if I'm not right here. » It's to Dee, but Taeliyth doesn't bother to hide it from Zymadiath. The darkness is amused, the shudder of its phantasms in laughter a brief but noticable thing. « That makes little sense. Mine doesn't care. » About the hair, one could assume, but Zymadiath doesn't specify. The shadows receed a little from her light, and then return in their twisting figments soon enough. An indication, perhaps, that it was done. The little bronze rises from being beside his rider, both night-embued wings stretched to rid them of stiffness sleep left them with. His stalk takes him closer to, but still a couple yards from, the golden dragonet. « And if speaking about you to others helps her understand you? » Ka'ge studies her, "It would be terrible if I was nice all the time." He exaggerates, as if that's what she means, "They'd all think such good things about me. Couldn't handle it." It's turned to teasing, this, his tones only lightly humored. His focus drifts- the bronze rarely interrupts a conversation unless necessary, and it steels the teen's expression. This pair are apparently still at odds as well. Whatever was passed between them couldn't have been that pleasent, but unlike Taeli, Zym isn't so open to sharing. His hand rises again as if to touch her hair, but again stops short in weak control, "Who will you have cut it?" « Teenage girls make little sense, » Taeliyth vents briefly, giving Dee a dark look to her back. « I would take an uncomplicated boy any day. » She declares as her wings snap shut and then get fluffed for not sitting comfortably in her haste. « The least she could do is include me in the conversation. It's easier for her to see me only out of the corners of her eyes and mind, not to see me. Just in snatches. She's an idiot. » And Taeliyth chose her. Is there regret there? Perhaps not certainly so, but perhaps sometimes, in some moments. "No, I suspect you couldn't," Dee observes sedately, her tone as faraway as her sad eyes briefly are. It probably isn't him that makes her sad. Probably. She looks back toward her dragon and her expression shows her short-lived sense of betrayal. "One of the hairdressers offered." That, in of itself, is awkward. "People seem to want to do things for me, all of a sudden," as if they never did before. They did, just different things now. She reaches a hand up to touch the trailing edge of her long locks. "You won't mind that I look different? Less... Dee?" The night may not be by nature welcoming or even pleasant, but it listens. It always does. And Zymadiath's presence is ever with her as she vents. It's not supportive, no, nor sympathetic, but it's there. The darkness chooses what it answers to, giving some time between, « Mine thinks of Dahlia's gentleness. » Though that's not all, he starts with that, « She is soft. Maybe she needs that to start with. » He'd not imply he knows her, sharing only observations he'd stolen from memories not his own. Ka'ge tries again and this time his gloved fingers make it to the lock of hair she'd just touched herself. The strands of hair, run through his palm, are stared at for awhile, before he reaches the edge of them and they fall back to her. "I'd say more like Dee. You'll never have to tie up any hair when you go out to play in the mud again." « When something bad happens, you get tough, you get even, you don't get gentle. » Taeliyth tells the dark bronze with annoyance. Does she even know how to be gentle? There's a sharpness to her mind that is not being used to wound now, but is an edge that could carelessly do so in the heat of the moment (and probably has). « How do you be gentle? » She demands in the next breath, annoyed she's not experienced enough to even know this. « Caidelyth would know. » She sighs. Caidelyth is so nice. « Perhaps I should have chosen Ead instead. » Would Dee have been happier had Caidelyth been the voice in her head? "If they ever let me play in the mud again," Dee sighs desolately. She dips her head like she'd like to put it in her hands. "Kael--" whatever she was going to say, she doesn't. Instead, "I should turn myself in." Her hazel eyes lift to him, looking helpless and undecided. The shadows are not in disagreement, though they also aren't moved by her annoyance. « I don't need to be. » He says with unquestionable certainty, though what it states about him, his chosen, and what she could consider is all implied. Zymadiath tilts his night-wrapped head towards Taeliyth, eerie eye focused on her, « Why did you choose Dahlia? » The teen boy draws his hand back to himself, another wash of unfocused haze coming across his vision that leaves his expression empty, and ends with eyes closed. He won't look at her in her moment of helplessness? "He told me." A quieter voice, this, a more serious one. "Didn't I teach you anything about being under pressure." He must be relating to their truths and a lie game. "You can't just fold when you think things are getting too hard. That's when you need to be the most committed." And when it could almost seem like Ka'ge's being supportive, "Or just give up, throw it all away. Make it a big deal. It's not like anything even left the place. All you did is misplace it on purpose." « Why did you choose Ka'ge? » is the question caught and slung back at the bronze in a single graceful spin of Taeliyth's quick mind. It may be that she's asking him to reveal this intimacy first or perhaps just pointing out the futility of the question - if it is. How is the choice made anyway? The heart has its reasons where reason knows nothing. "Everything is different now, Kael." Dee protests quietly, shifting her weight from knees onto a thigh and then stretching out beside him, one arm curling under her head, the other draping her middle and with a distinct but fairly small space separating any part of their bodies from touching. "I'm going to be a weyrwoman." It's said quietly, as if the admission might actually cause her physical pain, "Not a master whose concern is feeding Pern and making pretty flowers grow. My responsibility is Fort Weyr," whether she wants it or not. Something about these words draw Taeliyth's attention and the nearly omnipresent splashes of red begin fade all but entirely to reflect calm blue and her tiny frame relaxes. The mind hidden in the night's darkness can be felt somewhere far away at that question, though the figments are still close, still forming and unforming in their ghostly paths, steady though unpredictable as they follow no pattern. The shadows decide to share this. Decide that there is benefit in it. « He can get things done. » Not will, but can. Surely that is not the only reason, but whatever truths, whatever else is well-hidden in his black depths. "Yes, you are." There's a chuckling at that, breathy as it tends to be and short. It ends in a sigh that heaves his chest that's tight but no longer sore. "You'll feed the Weyr. Keeping the stores stocked and all that." It's a low shot, and he even turns his head enough that he can see her face as she lays beside him after he says it. But that, too, would be brief, as if a constant reminder is telling him to not look at her, not stare. And, given his history, it's likely not the rules or the assistant weyrlingmasters that are ever-roaming who enforce them. « How very descriptive, » Taeliyth's drawl is distracted, her eyes still on her lifemate, but clearly Zymadiath's answer does little to bring her attention back with so little concrete information shared. Perhaps it isn't even enough to encourage the gold to offer her part. But then, « Dee can be great. » It's tit for tat. She looks pained. The low shot hit its mark. The words make her roll onto her back and then sit up. She doesn't get beyond that. Not yet, but she's silent. In the meantime, the gold has an audible snarl. It's an annoyed thing. « Did he have to do that? » These feelings of Dee's are going to be such a waste of time. Especially when she already knows she can't fix them, which is reason enough to be annoyed. Zymadiath is no concrete thing, or at least that's what his shadows suggest. Nothing solid, nothing stable, only nightmares from beyond and layers upon layers of blackness. There's a cocky vibration of his blackened figments imitating a depiction of laughter at her response to his answer from before. « If you know this, then there is no question of choice. » Ka'ge lays there, silent, his face still washed clean of everything. Not even the humor that would normally follow picking at a fresh emotional wound arises. It just doesn't work like that with her. All the wrong (right?) feelings are evoked when he does that with her. And even though he tries with significant effort to nullify the regret he actually has to deal with, Zymadiath's shadows writhe perhaps just a touch faster than normal. So slight that change is, it may be easily missed. The sensation of ghostly mutterings come from the darkness, spilled over to Taeliyth from whatever the night-borne dragonet is dealing with on the other side of the dark's curtain. The night doesn't need to create words for there to be a sensation, an understanding of his disapproval. Eventually, whether from persuasion or of his own accord, a very, very slow and hushed, "Sorry," manages to leave his lips. « Can. Right now she's just an idiot with too big a heart. » Taeliyth sighs, now moving properly away from the entrance to approach the girl just as she says, "I shouldn't have bothered you," to the boy. It's hard to say whether she directs her resolved, "I'll figure something out," to the dragon or Ka'ge, but it sounds like some sort of desperate promise. She has to figure something out. She turns, leaning onto her thigh, arrested in the process of rising to seek out the boy's eyes to search them in silence for some moments. "Dee.." Strained, his eyes narrow to reflect such. Ka'ge's stares upwards into her eyes when she hovers above him; thoughts- coherent ones, right ones- are gone. There's a held moment there, tense. And it's an abrupt thing that he rolls to his side and stands with his back to her in what feels like a single fluid motion. When he speaks again, he's staring at the wall, "I know you want to 'undo' everything." Part of that feels accusatory, part feels forced what with his voice being so cool, cold as his head turns as if to regard her over his shoulder but he'd never see her past the edge of his hood 'les she moves. "Don't do it." At its most pointed, it could feel threatening. "We're two weeks in to knowing barely anything about what's going on beyond these caverns," a hand lifts in a weak gesture indicating the weyrling barracks. This fact seems to be very important to him with the weight he puts in it, "Do you think it's smart to go blindingly running to the.." He stops, curtails the word to use since 'stashes' would be far too telling, "places" A stupid word to replace it with, and it annoys him further, "and run around the tunnels past our sharding bedtime? You're not just some Southerner anymore, Dee." He turns to face her at that, "You're a goldrider. Every fucking person in this Weyr knows who you are, what you are. You think you can sneak by a little cook's assistant now?" Yes he saw, he heard. It becomes a lecture, an almost-angry one, a protective one. The sheer amount of emotions boiled up underneath all this causes a dragonet even like Zymadiath to rise to all four darkened paws, once-blue facets licked red as he stalks up to Ka'ge's side with his tail flicking once, head twisted up to stare at him. The figments of his shadows don't change their rhythm, still lingering in Taeliyth's mind even if a bit fainter. Dee is a good listener. The most she does is complete her rising to follow him with her eyes. This was why she came, wasn't it? To be talked out of something selfish? That would satisfy her own guilt. It comes more sharply than she anticipated, of course, and her head bows in the pose of one being chastised. She never responds properly to being chastised in this way, though, and now is no exception. She steps toward him, that stubborn look starting to step in. "So we, what? Wait? You don't think..." she considers her word choice, "that enough stories end up telling the truth of things?" That's really all she manages because then Taeliyth is beside her, close enough to make Dee visibly tense at the proximity (Dee, who's normally a touchy feely person~). « If you two are done oozing pointless anxiety and self-restraint at one another, » is caustically offered to her rider and the bronze to pass to his, « We should put our heads together and sort this out. » A pause. « Silently. If you idiots haven't figured out that we, » she and Zym, « can talk about it more safely » for all that they're leaky babies « than you. » She looks directly at Ka'ge, probably for the first time, really. She must expect to be translated verbatim, « So, stuff-of-shadows, » is either mockery or just pithy tease, « what do you think we should do? » All the ideas out on the table, and make it snappy: she's waiting. "You use someone- people- less valuable than yourself." Ka'ge's voice drops to a volume low and harsh enough to not be all unlike his dragon's. It's uncertain if he's put himself in that group and gives no indication of involvement. "Stories are nothing but words." It's dismissive, even if not as definitive as the comment before. He doesn't move when she comes closer, if not for the relief? approval? inappropriate wants?, then because of the darkling dragon who has put some of his weight against one of his legs. Zymadiath, with the slow arrogant deliberance with which he moves, lets his head fall to appear to be focusing on Taeliyth once more. The shadows return with their twisting paths, figures that may have eyes looking looking at her, though as soon as one could try to focus on the gaze, it's unformed and reformed into some other ghastly something. « i'm unconvinced at the level of potential consequences and the need for all of this. » This drama, specifically. And given the timing of his response, it's more likely only the parts he decided were important were passed on to the mind of his rider. « There are other consequences Dahlia doesn't know of. » And the shadows are ungiving for detail, « That lead Ka'ge to hesitation, not her.needs. But he will face them again if it's required to protect you and yours. » There's silence from the human portion of this for some moments until, "Touch her." A command, as stern as the rest of his words. Ka'ge hadn't missed her tension. Taeliyth very distinctly directs her snort at Ka'ge. It comes just before Dee's concerned, "She doesn't want to be touched." And who touches a dragon who doesn't want to be touched? When they have all those teeth? The tension in Dee's frame builds. « You would gamble my presence on my importance? » The gold inquires of the shadows, dubious and judging. There's a pause before she says with deliberation. « This is about more than just us. It is about our Weyr. » Stubborn do-gooders, both of them. What a pair. « What consequences? » is to the point. Dee is searching Ka'ge's face again, but in her own is a curious kind of hopefulness and a listening that doesn't have to do with him. "And I did?" Ka'ge's harshness is tainted with humor, but the transition isn't clean enough to make it any less unpleasant. "Do something she doesn't want, then." The way this teen boy deals with the uncomfortable tension is to be ugly, to be angry. The nightmarish figures ebb and flow, form and reform unperturbed, « Everything is a gamble, but that isn't my meaning. And it is you that matters. » For the shadow is still in youth, and his realm to protect is his fellow weyrlings and not yet the entirety of the Weyr. That day would come, but for now, « I will do what it takes to ensure you are safe. » Exclusive, apparently, of Ka'ge. Also absent it would seem of a real answer. As much as the night has let her in, it is far too dark to find anything more, especially in regards to her pointed question. She takes it the way it sounds: wrong. Dee rocks back looking like she's been slapped, inadvertently pressing into her lifemate whose presence she should be more aware of (shouldn't she?). Taeliyth's noise is disgruntled. "I'm sorry," might be to both, the ache of each angsty situation is there in her voice and just how tormented she feels in the face of all of it. "I won't do it again." That's what they want, isn't it? It seems to be too much for she steps to the side, away from the gold, so she might have move to turn and flee the room (given the chance). "Don't be stupid." Is his correction made all the wrong way. Ka'ge raises both his hands in exasperation and frustration, his shaded expression reflecting as much as he briefly looks away from her as if he can't even. His chest is tight, his brow furrowed at her as she begins to step away. Before, he would have grabbed her arm. Before, he would have drawn her back. Why can't he now? Why won't he? « Fool boy. » The shadow's phantasms are inclusive of Taeliyth in this despite their pointedness at his rider. What Zymadiath doesn't share is just how hard that mental slap is since those words are borrowed from memory and not his own. It's the last straw, though. Ka'ge turns away from Dee, letting her go if she wishes and taking two heavy steps away if only to find a chair and shove it aside to let it clatter across the floor and fall over against a wall. He'd stand there after, silent. "Am I being stupid?" is Dee's demand her voice rising as she twists back toward him from the half turn she managed. Then suddenly, she's laughing, but not as the last time. This time it's hysterics. "Thank you for pointing that out," she directs, "It's not as though I haven't been counting my mistakes, or as though she hasn't." The tiny queen flinches at the accusation and anger in her lifemate's voice, her own temper swelling in answer. "I'm just one more." A mistake. He's told her as much before. Ka'ge's voice is, at least, quieter even if not any more friendly than it was. The violent anger is gone, though, directed as it was to an inanimate object. It's not actually gone. No, it just got transferred. Dee advances on the only slightly taller boy, meaning to place herself in his line of sight so she can glare at him. (As ferocious as a kitten~) "Don't," is her single emphatic word. She holds his gaze a long moment before her hands are reaching up, not to touch him, but hook fingers into his hood on either side of his face, to seek not to push it away, not to force him into the light or to be other than as he is, but rather to draw him to her (more figuratively than literally since she's intending to move herself half the distance between them, to deliver face to face but not touching. "Out of all the shit-" yes, shit, "-that this Impression means for me, you are one of the only good things." The meaning of that isn't terribly clear, but Dee is probably not thinking her clearest just now. "Don't keep trying to that away from me." The last is as much impassioned plea as emphatic demand for all that she manages to keep her voice low. From the outside, it might look like an intimate moment given the hood, given that it can't be seen what is actually going on behind it. If it were an intimate moment, it might distress Taeliyth, as it is she's shifted to press the top line of her wheaten head into the bronze's shoulder, repeatedly. Impressing to teenagers is the worst. Ka'ge tenses just enough to be noticeable as she grabs the edges of his hood. He's not completely free of that anger, no. For all that it's just a piece of fabric, his protectiveness of it stems deeper than what should be appropriate. His eyes flicker to one side where her hand touches it before going back to meet the glare she's leveled on him. Some of the tension eases as a few seconds after the first passes and she doesn't try to pull it off him. The fact he doesn't pull back or reach to push her hands off may be telling of something. It probably helps from an on-looker's perspective on the intimate note that his arms remain relatively rigid at his sides. "I can't do what I want to do." That may have multiple layers to it, and his quieter, more personal tone to it implies as much, "I can't do what you need me to do." Zymadiath, seated on his haunches with his darkened heavy wings held loosely at his sides, looks on with only the increased whirling of hues in his eyes indication that this emotional nonsense phases him. There's a tilt of that head of his at Taeliyth's touch on his shoulder, a very slight flaring of the wing on that side. The night's shadowy figments give the haunted sensation of a sigh. "I just need you to be you," Dee breathes out with an audible sigh, her fingers releasing their contact with his hood. She rocks back, but not fully away from him, enough now that a whole arm could be passed between them instead of only a pair of fingers. "I can't do what I want to do either," though arguably it's probably, for the most part, different things than what he wants to do. "You matter to me, Kael. I can't-- I don't know what--" Feelings are complicated, okay?! She breaks off worrying her lower lip and glancing away from him. "I need to not feel like I'm alone here. Can you do that?" Make her not feel alone? It might be as simple as listening when she needs it. Then again, she is a teenage girl. Is anything ever that simple? Taeliyth grits her teeth as she pulls her head away and glowers over at the idiots. « They haven't even sorted out what matters, » she complains to the bronze with no small measure of exasperation. "You aren't alone." Ka'ge almost whispers, and a hand raises slightly as if to indicate the gold dragonet, though with their close proximity it may not be so noticeable a gesture. "Any bronzerider would keep you company if you asked." If he's trying to be funny, it's in enough poor taste that it leaves a bitterness in him. The weak chuckle that follows lasts as long as a single breath before he gives up in a sigh. "Shardit, Kael!" Dee actually moves to lay hands against his chest and shove for his poor taste not-really-as-humorous as all that. There might be more to that exclamation, but it doesn't make it out because she's whirling to go in a dramatic exit that even includes a stifled sob. Taeliyth's wings spread and lift toward the ceiling in an obvious 'look what you've done now' gesture before using a delicate spar to try to thwap the bronze lightly as if he should've done something to stop this nonsense before she's turning to trot after her wayward, idiot girl. The one she picked. (No one remind her.) Ka'ge takes a step back at the shove, the effect likely unnecessary at her shove. And he'd stand there with a dry, unreadable expression, watching her, for as long as it'd take her to leave. He had to let her go. Only after would he lean back against the nearest wall, slide down it to land heavily on the floor and dip his head to hide the rest of his face with his hood's shadows, arms laying to rest on his knees. Furious. The bronze dragonet doesn't evade the reprimanding touch of the young queen's wing, and his shadows give no indication of apology, concern nor regret. Would they at even the best of times? « He pushes her away for selfish reasons. » Zymadiath allows to Taeliyth, « But he would be whatever she needs. » The darkness is certain of this, speaking that which the boy won't say, giving away that singular secret amongst many. « We will come tonight, if she allows. » The physical distance may be felt in the form of vanishing along a wooded path. Only, the vanishing is not just from distance but rather by some greater illusion that makes her realness seem more fantastic. « To what end? » asks the gatekeeper. The twisting figures and figments only continue on as they were, fading and returning and fading again beyond those gates. « He has already decided. » Returning the stolen supplies, the shadows imply, « He will do so soon with or without her knowledge. » Taeliyth would like to deny his request; she's had enough of this nonsense for one day. Only her annoyed words don't sound like refusal. « I changed my mind. I'm glad I took a girl. Boys are worse. » He has her (in)sincere sympathy. « Fine, but only because we need you. » It irritates her, but a gold has to work with what she's got. « Don't come until after the Weyrlingmaster leaves, » after the panic and fear and nightmare that this exchange leaves little doubt will come for them again. |
Comments
Alida (02:56, 5 July 2015 (MDT)) said...
These four make me glad I'm not a teenager anymore. ^^
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