Logs:Proud Father
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| RL Date: 30 October, 2015 |
| Who: K'del, N'klas |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After the hatching, father and son share a moment. |
| Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Kasey/Mentions, Milani/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated! |
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| How late is it, anyway, when Nik blinks his way out of the barracks... or how early? He's N'klas now, but he's still the gangly, spotty teenager that went out onto the sands clothed in a white robe and hope; it's just that now it's a spotty, oily robe, and he has an extra head all but asleep on his shoulder, and wings. It's a Weyrleader's prerogative to come inside the barracks, but it's not-- not tonight, anyway-- what K'del's done: he waits outside, presently without Milani or Kasey, but with Cadejoth, his coat pulled tight against the late night cold. He's been anticipating Nik-- N'klas-- and here he is. "Nik," he says, urgently and with such great, obvious pride, stepping forward. His eyes are so blue, Nik's, Khaj's, he's so tired and he's glowing with it all; he'll feel the cold later, but not now, not now. It isn't the easiest thing to balance his dragon and reach over for his father, not silent but talking under his breath: yeah, that's him, and right, right and then something kind of incoherent that turns into a chortle. Cadejoth does not press for the blue, though there's the flick of a chain, here, and the faint, distant rattle of a bone, there; he's here, they're all here, and this is enough. "Nik," repeats K'del, reaching to put his arms around his son, so careful for the precious blue burden. "And Kha--Khajith. Congratulations, son. To both of you." The flick, the rattle, in the darkness before dawn: darkness, that's becoming-- no, that has been a deep blue-purple all along, dawning with a glimmer of sleepy fascination. Khajith. His name's Khajith. His name's N'klas, "Yeah, N'klas, he didn't go crazy like L'nik or S'nik which would've been funny but--" Nik's leaning in, taking a deep breath and there's a not-as-tiny-as-it-could-be paw reaching to pat K'del's shoulder. "Yeah, thanks." He breathes out, they breathe out in unison. "He's right there." « Khajith. » Cadejoth's pleased, adding another rattle of merry chain to his thoughts, though quietly: babies. "N'klas," and K'del is pleased by this, too. "I like it better than S'nik. Snicker-snack." But that's a tangent, and a distraction, and he has a hand to reach and touch the blue, just gently. "Mm," he adds. "It's a good feeling. He'll always be there, now. Always and always." « Khajith, Khajith, Khajith, » becomes Kha-nik, Kha-nik, Kha-de-joth becomes Nik's snicker if not snack. He tilts his head, careful to rebalance, to see Khajith rub the the side of his muzzle against that hand and then sniff and then lick if K'del stays around that long. Just a taste, before he sinks back more firmly on N'klas' still-not-broad shoulders. Nik leans back, making room. "Yeah. I mean, though, Cadejoth's right there too, it's like this big thing. Not a tent but a thing, it goes over the top? Way up there," he's trying to explain to Khajith as much as anyone, no matter that Khaj is who felt it to begin with. K'del can't help the smile that brightens (even further!) beneath Khajith's tongue. His fingers no doubt taste like sweat, now long-since dried and faded into skin that is chilled, but not freezing. "Like you're part of a greater whole," suggests the bronzerider, now, nodding his satisfied conclusion whether or not this suitably sums it up for his son. « Yes, » agrees Cadejoth. « Good. » "Like a parasol," said son says, with a note of triumph; he's pleased, Khajith's pleased, though now Khajith also requires some rebalancing and Nik's wincing, because even baby claws are claws and Khaj is starting to look dismayed and fan his wings out and Nik reaches back for him, quick-quick-"Ow." "Oh--" begins K'del, interrupted from all this pleasure by this balancing act, both hands reaching out as if he can help, though he also doesn't touch. "Careful, careful," is not, at least, admonishment. It's awkward, rebalancing one way leads to overcorrecting and the other direction and just how many directions are there? But Khajith's trying, they both are, any mishaps accidental and then Nik's panting, laughing up at his dad. "Could you ever do this with him?" And K'del, too: he has to laugh. "No," he admits, those hands drawing back to his sides. "Though I'm not sure I'd've been inclined to, either. He'dve liked he. He liked playing on the ice, too, and in the snow. There's nothing like it, when they're little and there's snow." He's fond, for that; such good memories. "He'll grow fast." "Yeah, I don't know about longer," N'klas is backing off already, only to in the next moment explain with real excitement, "It's like a backpack, sort of, and he likes being high up, not down low 'cause down there it's boring. You know? But yeah, like you say, he'll grow fast and then he'll take both of us-- ice is like the white stuff, snow, except harder so your talons don't poke through as well." He squints up at Cadejoth now, as though gauging just how many Khajiths it would take to make even the bronze's head. Khajith isn't looking up now, though. Khajith is looking at the man. "He'll like the glaciers, probably," offers K'del, turning his gaze from his son to the dragon, smiling. "Once you're able to fly that far. Ice forever, as much as you like. It's-- something." Words, though: words are hard when you're so obviously proud and excited. "Your mom will want to see you in the morning. And... Kasey, too." Nik's head bumps to the side, or rather is bumped, under Khajith's littler but substantially more pointy head. He laughs again, but he's nodding, as though it were also a sudden realization that's still hazy to be guilty: yes, he has a mom. Yes, he'd-- "Like Roszadyth to you; she's, yeah, the warm pretty big-- right, her," the laugh like they're joking around together, best friend ever. "And he's-- right." Now he's looking at his father, and then away, a little abashed; he scratches his head and then has to rub Khajith's too. Someone else forgotten, right up until now. "I thought he was going to be there." Despite his mention of Kasey, K'del's happy enough to grin along to Nik's descriptions of Roszadyth and Milani; it's adorable, how could he not? But-- for that last, he gives the teen a solemn nod. "Yeah," he says. "So did I. So did he. Just-- be kind. Not that you wouldn't be. He'll be fine. Plenty more chances, right? To find his Khajith. Don't worry about him now; enjoy your moment." There's a sputtering, more head-butting, but the predictable 'only one Khajith' doesn't get said in intelligible syllables, anyway; Nik's nodding, fiercely. "I'll try not to," rub it in, but how can he not, the way he looks at him? "It's going to be a long time," here, he can only suppose. Cadejoth, just quietly, agrees. How could it even be suggested?! But K'del's not inclined to clarify on that account and, instead, sighs. "Mm, probably. Turns." It's not a happy thought, not for K'del, and certainly not for Kasey. "Imagine... he may not feel up to staying, for a while. Be... patient with him." Khajith likes this. They know these things. "And I'll be busy anyway," N'klas says, awkwardly reaching back to grab hold of Khaj and hoist him a little higher, never mind that being too busy for his brother may not exactly help. "And I'll, you know, take him places when he wants to go sometimes, later. It'll be okay." That's when Khajith's belly rumbles, loudly, right by his ear. Whatever K'del truly thinks about this suggestions, he only smiles-- and then smiles more broadly at the sound of that rumble. "Go, get him back inside and fed again, mm? Everything else can wait. Kase'll be okay, and you know, and he knows, that I'll be proud regardless. I am, Nik. N'klas. So very, very proud." Proud regardless, but this is better, says N'klas' pleased smile. It's echoed in Khajith's unabashed croon, that shortly thereafter becomes chewing on the teenager's hair-- the side, where it's short, but still a portent of how Nik's going to have to get that front swoop cut. "Thanks," he says, and aims for a half-hug. He's grinning again, big and wide like it'll never, ever get wiped off his face. Then he's backing off, Khajith still that glow but receding now, like sunrise heading back beneath the ocean for more food and sleep and everything baby dragons need. A half-hug K'del can definitely return, with a firm squeeze that says all the other things he doesn't, not right now. But he won't keep Khajith waiting; he draws back, standing there in the snow until the new pair have disappeared altogether, one hand reaching up to rest flat upon his own dragon's forelimb. He remembers. How could he not? |
Comments
Alida (00:40, 31 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Nice to see this interaction. :)
Jocelyn (04:29, 31 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
Aww. :) Enjoyed the sweetness.
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