Logs:Reassurance
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| RL Date: 14 January, 2014 |
| Who: Cadejoth, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Teisyth seeks reassurance from Cadejoth. There's a whole lot that's adorable between the two of them. |
| Where: Somewhere near High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 10, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, Ali/Mentions, Azaylia/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions, Rh'mis/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Backdated slightly to just before month 9 of weyrlinghood starts. |
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| The taste of copper and nuts is little more than a phantom in the back of the mouth at first. Maybe Cadejoth's tasted it a time or two before as Teisyth has tried to gather her courage to speak to the Weyrleader's bronze. She's doing better with that this time, though, because quietly there's a mechanical purr and twin beams of yellow light penetrate the space between their minds, winking in, and then back out shyly. One wouldn't normally think of Teisyth as shy, but there's the sensation of heat in her face, particularly over the tip of her nose and perhaps just now she's especially green. (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) There's the smell of snow in Cadejoth's voice, and the rush of wind past icy chains; he's out and about, hurtling through an expansive sky, and exhilarating in every moment of it. Still, Teisyth's approach captures his attention, setting his chains jangling like a wind-chime-- a welcoming, not forbidding sound. « Teisyth. » (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) Beams blink back into being, encouraged and perhaps lured by the jangles. It's an interesting sound, a fun sound, a sound she likes. And then suddenly she's very much there, at least mentally. Maybe it's because he named her. The fact that she's there seems to surprise her, as though she didn't notice that she herself was becoming more noticeable. « Oh! » Surprise. « Excuse me, Mr. Cadejoth, Weyrleader, sir. » The sensation of heat is stronger, like a whirring gears set too long in motion with not enough to cool them. She hesitates, but her hesitation has motion, a twittering, shifting, fidgeting thing. « I didn't mean to bother you. » Only, she sort of did. (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) « Just 'Cadejoth', » assures the bronze, letting the green's heat begin to melt away the ice clinging to his chains; it drops and dribbles, and this seems to amuse him. Such wet jangles, now! « You're no bother. Have you seen the ice place? » A glacier - at least, that's what the image he shares is of, ice extending in every direction beneath him, radiating cold. (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) « Cadejoth, » That seems to relieve Teisyth a touch, probably because she's not, somehow, messing this up too, at least not the addressing him part. « I'm not? » Good. That helps too. And his question is distracting. She tries to think. She thinks and she thinks, only her answer ends up, « I cain't remember. Maybe? I remember lookin' at myself in somethin', but that might've been a mirror, or some such other newfangled thing. » She ruminates on that a moment longer then, « It seems nice tho'. I'll ask G'laer if he'll take me t'see one. » Then it's back to her fidgety hesitation. There's something even if she hasn't gotten around to saying it yet. Something bothering her. (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) To Teisyth, Cadejoth projects an image of himself raking great furrows in the ice with his talons as he glides low, letting this occupy the most of his thoughts for some seconds before he gains some altitude and turns his attention back to Teisyth. « You should, » he agrees. « You should visit lots of places. Lots and lots. » He could go silent, and simply muse upon this for a time, but he's caught that hesitation and now he hones in upon it, testing it cautiously. « Did you need something, young Teisyth? » « Oh, I 'spect we will, » The green's response is a little distracted by that thing which she's trying not to have be obviously bothering her, but is oh-so-transparently there in spite of her adorable efforts. « I ain't seen much of anything yet, but I'll go just about anywhere G'laer wants ter go once we get to betweenin'. » That seems to make the thing bothering her worse. Worse enough that Teisyth has to answer Cadejoth's cautious question. « Can I ask you a question? » (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) « And the places you want to go to, » reminds Cadejoth, gently, giving some suggestions, now: white sandy beaches, dense green jungles, the open ocean, mountains, and the gentle green of farmland, spread out below. He's content enough to simply indulge in these images, giving them a staccato soundtrack that's all rattling bone and fine metal. « Of course you can ask me a question. In fact, I think you just did. But another one. What is it? » (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) « Them too. » As if it just hadn't occurred to her. « But... just so long as G'laer's there. » Teisyth really doesn't care to be without him when it can be avoided. Still, no doubt the bronze's suggestions are taken to heart. Maybe she'll even remember them! She's startled to realize, « Dag gum, yer right! I meant another question. » Does the ice on his chains need more melting? Because now she's got more heat. « I was wonderin'... What makes a dragon a good dragon? » (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) Ah, yes. Cadejoth understands this: everything is better when K'del is there, too. But as long as he's there when Cadejoth gets back... this dragon likes to roam. His chains rattle: the ice is definitely melting rapidly, and they shake like a wet dog, sending droplets flying. Good fun. « What do you mean by 'good dragon', » wonders Cadejoth, taking to this thoughtfully, but without the deep philosophy of some dragons. « Good as in obeys-the-rules, or good as in... you know, successful? » (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) To Cadejoth, Teisyth is momentarily distracted from her deeper query to delight in the water flying every which way. That there's fun! But then she has to think. What does she mean exactly. « I s'pose I mean more like successful. Only I'm not so sure I mean successful exactly. But like, when a rider says their dragon's a good dragon, what do you have to be that? » Because she explains silently, and not probably for Cadejoth, but to herself and loud enough that it's easy to hear, she ain't been doin' so good with most of the dragony things. Well, one of them. Which feels like most of them right now, anyway. It's been a very long time since Cadejoth was a weyrling, learning how to do things, but his rider's mind is more open to him, now, than it once was; his pause probably has him leaving muddy footprints in said mind, tracking down the something that has a siren's call. Ah - yes. That. He remembers now. « I think we're all good dragons, » is his opinion. But also: « I couldn't hold between images. It made K'del upset and worried and angry, until I learned how. He used to think I was a bad dragon, even though I was his. » But not anymore: he's pleased and proud. (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) K'del can probably consider himself lucky that Teisyth is too distracted to haphazardly follow the muddy footprints where they go and back; not that she'd ever mean to intrude, of course. « So... Say my G'laer maybe thought I weren't a very good dragon 'cause I can't flame proper-like and I accidentally singe him more than I oughta, » Which is probably any number of times exceeding zero (though the sensation is that it's more than once). « He mightn't always think that? » Then, « Did it take a long time for K'del t'think differently 'bout you? » (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) It's difficult, of course, because Cadejoth doesn't actually remember for himself how and when and why the difference happened, and really, neither does K'del. But: « You're a good dragon, Teisyth, » he tells her, firmly. « And if he hasn't worked it out, yet, he will. Of course he will. » It's a moment later that he adds, thoughtfully, « And anyway, I don't remember the last time I flamed anything. » He wouldn't, of course, but there's a weight to his words: this is important. Flaming is not. (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) There are times when Teisyth's insanely trusting nature come in handy (they aren't many, but they do happen), like this. It doesn't matter that Cadejoth doesn't remember (or more likely, it doesn't occur to her that he wouldn't any more than she would). There's a deep breath that's taken and released along with her tension and concern, much in the way a worried child will breath out a sigh in the comforting arms of a parent and be comforted. « Okay. » And that's it. That's all the tense and worried she has. So now there is a void that is naturally and quickly filled with her usual cheery exuberance. « D'you think flying to the glacier's too far for me ter fly on my own? G'laer's reading. » Again. And it's one of the ones without pictures. So it's boooring. Flying isn't though. Not even a little! And-- « Hey! Can you fly backwards an' upside-down? » (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) Cheery and exuberant? Cadejoth can do cheery and exuberant!!! With a merry clattering of metal-upon-metal, he encourages her out: in his thoughts, he can plan out a route for her, an admittedly zigzagging path that meanders here, there, and then everywhere as it heads off in the direction of the glacier. It's fun... but it's more fun with company. « I can't, » he admits, to her last. « I'm not very... manoeuvrable. » Woe. (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) It's like her very own map!! That's exciting in of itself. It's almost like a treasure hunt, or could be! Rosvelth would be excited. She'll have to tell him of it later. If she remembers long enough for them to chat before the memory like virtually all others slips away from her. « Bronzes are big, » She admits. « Lynner's always tellin' me I'm little, but little is good for some things! » She can't remember what off-hand, but she's confident it's true. « Do you always go flyin' all on your lonesome? » It seems, to her, like it would be well, lonely! (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) To Teisyth, Cadejoth is clearly pleased by Teisyth's reaction to his directions; pleased, too, with how this conversation is progressing. « Little is very good, » he confirms. « It's good for flying in interesting ways, and for speed, and all kinds of things. » He shares, then, the faint sense of stars, decorating his chains. Isyath. Sometimes, he gets to fly with company. But, « I'm never really alone. Even when I'm physically far from home. » The pleasure is amplified; Teisyth has that effect. Him being pleased makes her pleased, and her being pleased is contagious. The conversation is full of good feelings now. « I love ter fly in interestin' ways. My G'laer says there's a wing full of dragons that do. I don't think he wants ter go to it, but I do. » Mm, Icicle. She even likes the name. Because she likes icicles. Likes sucking on them. Of course, of all the things she remembers, this would be one of them. There's a cartoon image of her in brighter green than she really appears, drawn in waxy coloring sticks that flips like a little moving picture showing her on her ledge, ducking her head down and under to where the icicles formed overnight and ... well, then her tongue seems to have gotten stuck, but eventually she was able to snap the icicle off and then it was just the brain freeze she had to deal with... « Who's Isyath? » She wants to know, suddenly. She doesn't really seem embarrassed by her related episode with the icicle, but maybe she's diverting attention from it anyway. « That's my favorite thing about bein' a dragon. Never bein' alone. Sometimes I ask G'laer what it were like before me, for him. He always says quiet. But I think he means more than just quiet. » (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) It's a wonderful mental image-slash-story, and Cadejoth is heartily amused by it. His path has altered, now: he's angled himself back towards the Weyr, rather as though he intends to meet the young green partway. « You need to be happy in whatever wing you're in. I'd be bored in the kind that doesn't drill too much... I don't like sitting still, much. » Understatement of the Interval. « Taiga is good like that, but we don't do the fancy flying. Isyath is... she's... » How about an image, instead: Isyath in flight, surrounded by stars. Cadejoth's affection for her is obvious. « I don't think K'del remembers what it was like before me. We've been together longer than we've been apart. » (To Teisyth from Cadejoth) To Cadejoth, Teisyth is working on closing the distance, following the map, maybe getting distracted once or twice on her own, but no one's there to confirm that. She's not as big, being not full grown and a green on top of it, so it takes time for her to cover the distance that comes more easily to a grown-up bronze like Cadejoth. « I don't blame you one bit. I don't much care for sittin' still neither, except maybe when I have visitors on my ledge. But then I only like it if'n they're dozin' on me or if'n we're talkin' so much we're too distracted t'be movin'. » Then she has to think about Taiga. « I cain't say as I care so much for drills as the fun stuff. I ain't very good at them either. » Drills; she's excellent at fun stuff. It might even be considered her expertise. The image of Isayth is taken it. « Hoo-ee, she's a pretty one, ain't she. » Then again, Teisyth things all the golds are pretty. And most of the greens too, for that matter. Then again, the boxy green doesn't provide much challenge to anyone's physical attractiveness. Surely, if anyone thinks Teisyth is pretty, it's because of her personality and simple charms. « She ain't from here, tho'. » Beat. « An' you won't go away from here, will you? » There's something nervous about that. She wouldn't like it, though she couldn't explain why. Maybe it's because her bronze father went on his merry way after she was shelled. Not that she can remember that. « I think I'll like it better when it's like that fer us. He's still adjustin' to me. He thought I should be a bronze. He wanted ter take yer K'del's job. » Isn't that hilarious? She thinks so! The mental guffawing proves it. To Teisyth, Cadejoth and Teisyth really are eerily similar in a lot of ways. The bronze may not see it, though; he's got a near-paternal amusement and fondness for her. « Oh, drills are good fun. But clearly you need the fun kind. » He's taking notes. Or K'del is. It's important. « She's beautiful, » he confirms of Isyath. But: « No, I won't go away. I won't chase her. » Hraedhyth, her more bestial charms reflected briefly in the bronze's thoughts, looms. He will chase her, instead. For High Reaches. « K'del thought I should be a different kind of bronze, » he admits. « I wasn't what he expected. But I was right for him, just like you are right for yours. » He finds her amusement amusing; he's amused, too. As much as opposites attract, those with similarities can sometimes have the most fun, even if it lacks the spark and pizzazz of other match-ups. It's convenient that he thinks of her like that, because the reciprocal is true, as well, and maybe, just maybe, that's why she sought him out for reassurance. There is brief contemplation for the two golds, but doesn't comment further, simply allowing herself to be reassured by his words. « Yeah, G'laer'll come 'round eventually. Some days he does already, but others are not the same. » Which might be complicated to understand, but G'laer is complicated, so that might explain that. « Oh! I think I see you! » Even if it's not true, it's enough to put a little more surge in her wings and bounce in her brain. Surely, now that she's found him (or thinks she has) Cadejoth will show her the fun things on this little bit of the map. (To Cadejoth from Teisyth) |
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