Logs:No Eggs, Little Babies
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| RL Date: 22 July, 2014 |
| Who: Lythronath, A'rist |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: The boys reflect on the hatching, in their own ways. |
| Where: Hatching Sands, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 4, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, Evanthe/Mentions |
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| Hot. Lythronath lands. Hot, on his feet. Hot, on his belly. Hot, on his nose. Lythronath sniffs. Hot in his nose. Hot and sand. Hot and sand and smells. Eggs. Lythronath remembers. Lythronath nudges, pushes sand. Pushes over, pushes away. A'rist and Lythronath had taken wing before that little stunted brown had even impressed to that girl. They'd seen it, seen it, far away from the celebration like so many other things. Lythronath hadn't wanted to go. Lythronath was enjoying himself. A'rist had made him, forced him. A'rist had thrown all the suspicion and guilt into one strong push, and they'd been away. No eggs now. Egg shells. Lythronath knows. Egg shells, smashed, squished. Lythronath scrapes long lines. More hot. More smells. Lythronath remembers Hraedhyth. Fire hot. Little babies. Crushed shells. Lythronath roars. Stunted dragons didn't happen, not a lot, not like this. People around the Weyr were talking, about that little brown, about how come. Some blamed relations, but A'rist knew that was wrong. Father flew daughter, brother flew sister, all the time, and this didn't happen. Perhaps they'd forgotten the flight. Wounded dragons falling to earth, trying to mate. That didn't happen all the time. Not like that. What had been a fear and suspicion was becoming a certainty. Two certainties, really. The first, that he and his dragon had caused this, that Lythronath created that little brown even without being in Hraedhyth. The second, that if his dragon could just have stretched that much farther, this wouldn't have happened. It was the second, more than the first, that made his stomach turn. Lythronath. « Cracked shells. Smash, squish! Falling babies, A'rist! » Do you remember the last one? The little brown? « Little! » Do you think he's weak? « Yes! » Because we weren't strong enough? Because the rest of the Weyr isn't strong enough? « Baby, A'rist! » « A'rist, come! » Same hot. No little babies now. No little eggs now. Old smells of new. Lythronath remembers. A'rist comes. Happy. |
Comments
Azaylia on 17:30, 22 July 2014 said...
I loved the dual perspectives of this. Especially A'rist's thoughts on Zvaraseth. <3 Lythronath is a simple creature sometimes, and it made me squeal when I read "Happy." It seems like a rarity. x3 Awesome vig!
A'rist on 23:24, 22 July 2014 said...
Lythronath is often happy! Just usually in a 'breaking stuff with reckless abandon' way, and less in a social way. But sometimes!
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