Logs:Silver Threads, Flying, and Little Ones
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| RL Date: 20 May, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, T'mic |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Weyrlings talk about things that have changed, things that will change, and things that have stayed the same. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 9, Month 11, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Stina/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Cut short by RL, alas, so awkward ending. |
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Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr All the furniture here has been pushed to one side of the room to allow a large pathway opposite: room enough to let weyrling dragons pass from the bowl's archway to the cavernous barracks at the back. None of the furniture matches, either: it varies from big cushioned, claw-footed chairs to those of plain wood, while the most seating is at the two stone tables ringed by low and equally hard stone benches. Without the tapestries that decorate many of the Weyr's other interior spaces, the room always echoes with noise, no matter how few are there. What it does have, however, are several colorful murals: on one wall, a detailed diagram of a dragon's anatomy; opposite, next to a creaky wooden door, a number of painted and labeled wing formations. Near the entrance is a large-scale version of the Weyr's badge, while the back wall, by the barracks, features a detailed map of the continent. The latter area's also home to one big, beat-up couch, black or maybe blue -- the thing's so old and filthy it's hard to tell, though it's certainly comfortable. It isn't their usual studying, the weyrling pair hard at work in afternoon after classes. Edyis is standing in front of Akluseth, the brown's nose almost touching her face eyes whirling intently. One outstretched arm lifts up while the other goes down and the brown mirrors with his wings before chuffing at her. She just sort of eyes him and throws her hands up. "I give up. Just do your stretches." The brown watches her pad away tail twitching restlessly. "Stupid dragon." T'mic and Jorrth are on their way back in from the caverns, and positively glowing. Jorrth's glow is at least in part to the now-emptied oil jar that his rider's got tucked under his arm, but T'mic's? It's all just grinning and happiness and peace. « Akluseth, » comes Jorrth's happy greeting, that still-high-pitched little voice eager, and carried along by a physical shake of his head and shaggy wings. « The snow is sparkling! It's wonderful. Little pieces of ice, I think. But so light! Like feathers, almost. » T'mic is slower, his usual easy smile, which shifts once he's taken the situation into account. "Rough time of it?" is Edyis' greeting. Edyis rolls her eyes but not necessarily at the bluerider. "He wants to fly I keep telling him no, strict rules, meaning not without supervision. Still he wants to be in the air, and the lake is getting too cold for him to continually swim and me fetch after him." She mutters. Akluseth's watery tides extend to meet the high pitch of the blue's thoughts, snowflakes dancing on cerulean tides. « Snow. » He concurs. « The little ones like the snow, » Jorrth carries on happily. « And they like me, and they like T'mic. » And it was the best morning ever. T'mic looks beyond Edyis to her brown, and clucks his tongue thoughtfully against the roof of his mouth. "That's normal though, isn't it? Jorrth can't wait to fly." A beat. "I can't wait for Jorrth to fly, either. I think it's most of what everyone's been thinking about, with drills and everything." "Him straining a wing muscle before getting permission is only going to end up with us in more trouble though. So I thought I'd distract him with wing exercises but that isn't working as well as it used to." Edyis murmurs darkly, before puffing out a breath. Dark eyes flick over the bluerider who seems much easier to deal with than her brown. "I would have thought you two would be thinking more about the new thread in your knot than just flying." Subtle waves catch the inflections, a question? Little ones? (To Jorrth from Akluseth) "And hurt," T'mic points out, gently, but with eyes wide and serious with what he considers to be the worst part of that whole business. He presses his mouth into a line, thinking while eyeing Edyis' lifemate - and then unbalanced by her answer to him. "The- oh." It's embarrassment there, an instant blush, and a glance away from both brown and his rider, to Jorrth. Jorrth, who stands up proudly for a moment... only to dip down and demonstrate a little hop. Well, there are two conversations going on, after all. "That's... It's..." He frowns a little. « T'mic's little ones, » comes Jorrth's response. That musty sun-fur smell intensifies as he pictures them, the faces he remembers best at first, meticulously, a dark girl of about seven, a red-haired boy only about four, a blonde set of twins around nine, an incredibly little girl of maybe two... And then it all gives in to the feeling of warmth and happiness and the crush of all those children and more, all around him. « The little ones. » (To Akluseth from Jorrth) Edyis says, "Sometimes I think an Injury would do him good. Not that I wish pain on him, but he needs to learn caution and it's not entirely something he can get from me." She answers to his gentle point, though not unkindly. "A lot of responsiblity?" She offers gently, "But I am not supprised that you two were chosen. The way the nursery kids follow you. Who knows you both might make great weyrling assistants some day."" A gentle whirlpool of confusion, « Edyis does not have little ones. Are they fun? » The brown wonders as he moves over to his smaller sibling drinking in those thoughts and sensations. (To Jorrth from Akluseth) "Oh, don't say that," T'mic chides. His eyes track back to Edyis, and he gives a little shake of his head. "I don't know. It's more classes and we're not... well, I'm not great at those. I was kind of surprised, I mean, we hardly have time as it is. Although at least he's sort of slowed down for growing." It's a lot said, but all no faster than that steady, rolling pace at which T'mic is so practiced. "I don't know. The on-the-ground stuff goes better. And in air, I hope." He's looking over at Jorrth again with that, and some confidence gets infused just over that visual line, it seems. To Akluseth, Jorrth is all too happy to share, and with the memory of little hands all wanting to pet his great big head and starting-to-gain-muscle shoulders comes those other feelings, of belonging and of caring and of love, even. So warm. So sunny. Even with snow. « They're always excited I think! They have lots of questions. Lots and lots. » "You can always ask for help I'm sure, and if it is only the book learning bits you have trouble with, I'm happy to help where I can with class work." She offers gently. "You and Jorrth get teamwork; that is something that is hard to teach in a class, something special you both understand. You are also one of the few weyrlings I think who can get along with anyone." Her voice warm, as she watches the look to his dragon. Warm currents embrace the sensations, amused by them, perhaps even envious. « How does one get littles? Do you think Edyis would find some for me if I asked her to get littles » (To Jorrth from Akluseth) And then that part, well, that makes T'mic smile. "Yeah, guess we do. He's natural at it. I'll... I guess we'll see. Mostly I want to make sure his first flight goes okay. If we try think too far ahead, it gets all... crazy." He even makes a little spinny gesture with his hand toward his temple, and shakes his head around. Jorrth, delighted, shakes out his wings again, and snorts. Of course. T'mic is quiet for a moment, once he stills, slowly looking over to Akluseth once again. "So do you always just try distract him? If things are going hard?" « I think it would be funny if you asked her, » Jorrth answers. « T'mic had them from before, though. » A beat, a slight withdrawal, as he probes at his rider's brain, and then returns in full force with, « They were at the hatching and everything! » (To Akluseth from Jorrth) "Yes." She says of distracting her lifemate, "It isn't so much if things are going difficult as much as..." She stops, expression slightly distant before her face face suddenly flushes and ears turn scarlet. "Um. Um." She tries to recover, "Flights, er first time in the air, is worrisome, but I'm sure they will do fine." Akluseth settles on his haunches, just watching her. Silvery ticklish bubbles flutter through the deep sea current. « She isn't answering me, but look! She turned colors! » (To Jorrth from Akluseth) There's a moment, between Edyis faltering, and Jorrth doing a little hop backwards at Edyis' response, that T'mic needs to catch up on what's going on. And then, "Oh, Jorrth." As quick explanation to Edyis: "We saw the weyrbrats this morning. They always dogpile on him, he loves it," no doubt T'mic does too, but he's too busy apologising right now to show it, "and I was explaining to him how they aren't mine mine, just mine because of- sorry. He thinks it's funny. It was like trying to talk to Stina about this stuff when she was ten." Edyis flushes, "Ah, uh no he was asking me if I, uh. Nevermind. I gotta go. Um. See you later?" She's fleeing! |
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