Logs:Life and Love
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| RL Date: 2 January, 2014 |
| Who: Denali, N'dalis |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Denali and Dal have a brief chat about their lives. |
| Where: Living Caverns, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 12, Month 9, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| It may be a little early for dinner, and a little late for lunch, but a group of Malachite wingriders hustle in from the cool, clear autumn afternoon in search of food all the same. Dal is in but not especially /of/ the group; as most of them aim for the kitchens, that particular greenrider turns, instead, towards the hearth. Once there, he pulls off his riding gloves, tucking them beneath one arm pit as he lifts both hands towards the flames. Denali seems to be constantly circulating amoungst those seated at tables and those standing about, refilling mugs and offering a few soft spokan words here and there. A quick stop at one of the serving tables and the lanky young woman moves to approach the greenrider near the hearth "How about some fresh, hot Klah to chase off the chill?" she offers in a voice that's a warm, husky alto, her small smile friendly. "I swear I didn't make it myself, I haven't yet mastered the makings of a perfect pot of klah...mind still tends to come out something that's not thick sludge and just weak enough that it won't eat through a spoon." "That sounds... exciting," ventures Dal after a moment's pause, though his expression isn't unfriendly - just as reserved as it ever has been. "I'd love some, thank you. It isn't really cold out there, on the ground, but the winds can be sharp." Certainly, his cheeks are wind-chapped. Denali offers a slight nod of her head, "I've heard as much, though I've not had the chance to venture out today." The mug is filled as she speaks and held out, "Exciting? Klah making? Far from it." a shrug and her eyes drop groundward. "There's fresh meatrolls and some stew...I think if you need something to tide you over till the evening meal." N'dalis wraps both hands around the mug as he accepts it, his low, serious nod obviously intended as a gesture of genuine thanks. "I meant the... failing to make ingestible klah bit. Which is... I was lucky never to chop fingers off, on candidate chores. But no, no. I'm fine. I can wait until dinner." Denali grins "Candidate chores..Ahh yes. Kitchen and Caverns duties I could do with out much trouble, it was always the the nursery chores that I feared." A brightness comes into her eyes and smile, "I'll master Klah one of these days, I've mastered making bread well enough." With the refusal of wanting food, Denali settles the pot just enough enough to the fire to stay warm but far enough away so as to not cool off to much. "I liked working in the nursery," admits Dal, with one of his rare, fleeting smiles. "But then, I was missing my boy and it... helped." He doesn't really seem to be aware of the way one of his hands draws away from his mug and reaches up to rub, idly, at a point just below his shoulder. "Bread making always seems impressive. I remember my mother doing it. So much /strength/. You, uh, work in the kitchens, now? Permanently?" Denali says, "I work in the kitchens as well as directly with the Headwoman as a floating assistant so to speak." A brief look of sympathy that turns to concern as she watches the motion of his hand "Are you ok?" is quickly asked "I can get you something for that if you need?" is added as she turns slightly as if ready to move away in search of what he might want or need. "Your son?" "Hm-- oh!" Dal's cheeks turn pink and, hastily, he drops his hand back towards his mug, shaking his head with vehemence. "No, no, it's fine." His gaze slides towards the mug, too, focusing on that rather than on Denali herself. "You like the work, I hope." And, "Yes, my son. He's five, now. He lives with me, now that I've graduated." Denali says, "Good, hate to see anyone hurting for any reason." she squats, tossing a few more logs on the fire before straightening and brushing her hands off, "I love the work, keeps me busy and out of trouble." A small impish grin comes and goes quickly, "I'm glad to hear about your boy, children should always be close to their parents." N'dalis' cheeks, still pink, are turned back towards the fire, as though in doing so he can better explain them away. "Good," he says, approvingly. "I think it's important to enjoy what you do. Or - well, it's most important to do your duty, but if you can enjoy it, at the same time, that's all the better. I think that's what I like most about fatherhood," is a slower admission, made afterwards. "We're close. I'm very lucky, that way." Denali continues to put aside the pinkness of the others cheeks. "I don't know what I would do if I couldn't be part of my family for a moment or two each day when we can." her eyes seem a bit distant for a short time, "Knowing my parents are close makes bad days more tolerable." she admits before giving a heavy sigh. "I enjoy working in the kitchens and learning from the cooks, as I also enjoy working with the Headwoman and learning from her as well, she tells me it'll make me a well rounding youngwoman that would be a prize catch should I ever venture out to one of the holds." and that brings a frown and creases upon her face. Now, there's wistfulness on Dal's expression as Denali speaks, though there's no question that he's listening intently, to /her/ and not just his own thoughts, whatever they are. He turns his head towards her again, finally, noting that frown. "Or," he suggests, "you could stay here and find someone, just as easily, and build your career. If that's what you choose to do. I liked being married," there's only a faint, momentary hitch in his voice as he says that, "but it's not for everyone. You're lucky: you have that choice." Denali tips her head one way then another, glancing from the rider to the fire where here gaze remains. "I'll be staying here, and if someone right finds me so be it, if not then that's fine too." The oddness in his voice brings her face back around, a brow arched as she studies him for a time. "I would like to find out one day, but it's not something that I'm going to actively hunt for." Finally, Dal takes a careful sip from his mug, first blowing carefully over the surface. "It's worth it," he says, simply. "If it happens. When it happens. But no - you can't spend your life waiting and hoping. You have to spend it /living/." Something in his tone suggests he's telling himself this, too, but abruptly, that thoughtfulness is gone. "I need to go pick up my boy," he says, giving Denali an almost smile. "Good luck with it all." Denali bites at her lower lip, bobbing her head at his words, "Good luck to you as well." she offers in a voice only marginally above a whisper. "Have a good evening with your son." Her face now thoughtful as if soaking in and mulling his words, "Don't forget to remember those words too...even on your hardest or worst days." she offers in parting. Glancing back, as he goes, Dal gives Denali another smile. "I'll remember," he promises. "Thank you." |
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