Logs:Potential Spies
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| RL Date: 14 November, 2009 |
| Who: Cadejoth, Iovniath, Yyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Something is going on out in the bowl. Yyth calls for Cadejoth, and Cadejoth intervenes. Sort of. |
| When: Day 15, Month 3, Turn 21 (Interval 10) |
| To Cadejoth, Yyth shifts her weight anxiously, a touch of anxiety pouring through from her rider into her and thus into the bond between them. « Mine needs K'del's help. » To Yyth, Cadejoth rouses himself in surprise, sending forth a wave of warmth; « What's wrong, Yyth? What's wrong? What does he need? » To Cadejoth, Yyth resettles her wings. There's a swirl of mayhem -- Tiriana, a dark haired man with the impression of 'miner' and Shad -- before it desolves into a sort of wailing paranoia that must be P'ax himself. « P'ax could not get the miner to come alone to hear about the rocks. He and Iovniath's insisted Shad come too. P'ax does not think the boy can be trusted. » She snorts. « And he wants to kill the Weyrwoman. » To Yyth, Cadejoth soothes as best he can, draping his chains over Yyth with another burst of warmth and comfort; it's going to be okay! It is! « He should not kill Iovniath's. » That's firm, and probably as much from Cadejoth as it is from K'del himself. « The miner insisted *Shad* come, too? Why? » Beat. « I will speak to Iovniath. » To Cadejoth, Yyth sighs and settles down again, letting the rain outside wash against the general background of her mind, muting the black into something more of a dark gray. « Mine knew yours could make it better. » Such warm confidence is echoed from the green, leaning into him again. To Iovniath, Cadejoth nudges tentatively at the edges of your consciousness, a single strand of fine, silvery chain requesting admittance. « Yyth says there is some problem about the Miner? That her rider does not trust *Shad*, and is worried about talking to the Miner in front of him. » /He/ does not want to intrude, but... « I'm sure yours has it under control, but Yyth's is upset, and that makes Yyth upset, and... » You know how it is. Confident: « He will try. He will do what he can. » And no doubt his rider would be out there in a moment were he free to do so; but Cadejoth is here, and will stay with Yyth, regardless. (Cadejoth to Yyth) To Cadejoth, Iovniath's voice comes back, cool and unflustered whatever the reactions of those around her. « And why should we be so frightened of a boy? » she inquires. It sounds silly. Cadejoth /knows/ it sounds silly. But... « He could be a spy. » Hastily, he adds, « For Crom. He came from Crom, and K'del says he came with information. Which might have been fabricated to misdirect us. » /So/ silly. « K'del thinks he's probably not a threat, but just in case... » (Cadejoth to Iovniath) There are not wheels, exactly: nothing so mechanical for Iovniath. But the sensation is there, in the slow crackling of ice in her mind. She's calculating. « He may be, Cadejoth? » she says, slowly. « Then we should find out, no? » (Iovniath to Cadejoth) For Cadejoth, it is a sensation of cogs, instead, of chains slowly clinking-- and then faster, as he begins (he thinks) to catch on. « Misdirection! » He seems enormously pleased by this concept. « We give him information, and see if others know it? » Iovniath, truly, is wise and good; she is a fine pack leader, so crafty and clever. (Cadejoth to Iovniath) It's like a pat on the head for a good puppy: Iovniath indulges the bronze with the faint brush of snow and fur and all those things he so loves. « Yyth's often apoplectic rider may think us fools, but we are not. » (Iovniath to Cadejoth) Patronizing it might be, but Cadejoth positively glows in the wake of this: so easily pleased! The rattle and twang of his chains gains momentum in his joy, though it is not so consuming that he cannot agree, albeit carefully (Yyth, after all, is his /friend/). « No, we are not! I will reassure Yyth: all will be well. » If he could, he'd beam. (Cadejoth to Iovniath) To Cadejoth, Iovniath, bemused, as ever, with just how easy it is to redirect her mate, replies in a flurry of sparks, « Yes, Cadejoth. You do that, please. » To Iovniath, Cadejoth will! Helpful, useful, /sensible/ Cadejoth, good boy. To Yyth, Cadejoth returns, in time, his mental touch containing a hint of snow and ice, of fur and white and cold. « All will be well, » he tells her, at peace. « Iovniath's has it under control. » |
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