Logs:The Only Two People on Pern
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| RL Date: 11 June, 2014 |
| Who: G'laer, Oliwer, Teisyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: G'laer and Oliwer have a getaway together. It's all kinds of squishy and sweet. |
| Where: Southern somewhere |
| When: Day 17-18, Month 13, Turn 34 |
| Mentions: Azaylia/Mentions, B'gherio/Mentions, Gallania/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Quinlys/Mentions, Reniler/Mentions, Rone/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: Squishiness and fluff. (So much.) Back-dated. References to sex. |
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| It was spur of the moment because G'laer's schedule changed. Suddenly, he and Oliwer had the day off together, so they seized the day. Well, and the half of the day before. That afternoon, G'laer packed up his gear, everything that they might need, at least according to him. Once everything was secured to Teisyth's hauling straps, they got underway. The cold of between is easily forgotten in the warmth of the day down South. It makes even the wind in the air tolerable, pleasant even as Teisyth wings over the jungles and beaches eventually circling down to land on a plateau. G'laer's hands are offered up to help his weyrmate dismount and then there's the matter of unloading. This is the plateau where they'll sleep the night in the tent that is efficiently pitched. Once the circle of stones is in place for the cooking fire later, then G'laer takes a break, cracking the seal on a skin of wine and moving toward Oliwer to offer it to the healer. Since Oliwer is practically useless at most of this stuff, he tries to at least watch, helping where he can, but probably mostly just appreciating the view that G'laer so often is for him. It's a nice view. Once the greenrider has decided to take a break, Oliwer is all too happy to accept the skin to take a drink before passing it back. "I never thought I'd find someone setting up a fire pit so attractive." That earns a laugh from the greenrider; he seems freer here. This is a man who could likely live happily as a hermit were it not for his green and his guy. "Just wait til I'm gutting a trout. Your pants will hit the floor." He jokes, there's even a smile to prove it. "Now that we're set up for nightfall, we'll want to head into the jungle, probably toward the waterfall that's not far, to keep Rukbat off of us, at least during the heat of the day." Oliwer even laughs at that. Maybe because it's both ridiculous and not entirely far-fetched. The fish-gutting isn't really hot, but the uber masculinity of surviving in the out-of-doors certainly is. As for the jungle, "Is it safe?" Oliwer doesn't know much about the South, but, "Isn't that where the dangerous things live?" "Safe enough," which is not at all the same thing as safe. "I'll keep you safe." G'laer's smile is softer now. He takes a sip of the wine but not much more. "I brought lunch to take to the waterfall, to get us started. Just before dusk we'll head back here and by then we should have some fish to clean up for dinner." And if Oli's in agreement with the plan, it will only take G'laer a few moments to get the lunch basket and his bow and arrows and fish-spear before they can head into the canopy. Well, Oliwer believes that much, at least. G'laer will keep him safe. That's just one of the basic, unquestionable truths of his life nowadays. It seems to appease whatever doubts he has about the jungle and the only further problem will be that Oliwer insists on carrying something along the way. G'laer will let him have the basket, the better for him to be ready should the need arise. Watching him bend the bow to string it might rank up there in the manly arts of survival. The greenrider is patient with his inexperienced charge, guiding him along, pausing to identify certain flora that have medical properties, pointing out things that can be eaten and things that should not. Eventually they do come to the secluded area that holds the pool and river that continues to run away from the high falls. High, but not too high. "Fancy going for a swim?" G'laer asks after lunch has been consumed and they're settled on the blanket that was tucked in the basket. It's a fascinating walk for Oliwer. He's familiar with some medicinal plants in the state they end up in once they reach the infirmary. But fresh from the ground? Not so much. That's not his specialty. By the time they reach where they set up to eat, the healer probably loves his greenrider just a little more. "A swim?" His questioning probably has less to do with his hearing and more to do with the fact that a pool in the jungle is definitely not the same thing as a pool in some more civilized location. But whatever misgivings he might have, he decides with a smile, "I think I do." "Good." G'laer's smile is warm and wide and... well, just a little bit mischievous. The reason for the latter is soon apparent because after they've stripped down, G'laer leads them not directly to the pool, but up an incline, and up... and up... and up... how close to the top of the falls do they get before Oli picks up on the cliff-diving plan? Oliwer kind of catches on as soon as it's not straight to the pool that they go. Maybe he's even okay with the idea of that at first. But as they go up and up a little farther, the healer hesitates. This looks higher from the actual height. And they aren't even at the top yet! Not that he's ever given much indication of being afraid of heights. But then, he's never been expected to jump off of a dragon or a ledge. "You've done this before, right?" "Sure," it's too fast a response. Something is hinky. The way G'laer's lips are pressed together and pulled into a smile is far too gleeful for something he's done before. "We're almost to the top." Half-way at best, he presses on. Does Oliwer believe him? It's hard to say. But he does trust him. So if G'laer thinks it's safe, he'll just go along with it. Besides, it's hard to say no to the man when he's stripped down to nothing. He'll just have to be thankful he's in decent enough shape to not be completely winded already. Once they're at the top and G'laer's led the older man out onto an overhang, G'laer grins, "I'll go first. The trick is not to aim for the waterfall. Aim for the pool. There's a lot of downward force under the waterfall, but also don't aim toward the shore. You want to go in where the pool is deep." That last should be obvious. Before Oliwer can ask too many questions (or any really), G'laer is taking a running leap off the cliff, whooping exuberantly on his way down. Splash! ... and he doesn't resurface. What will Oli do? Chance jumping or waste time getting to the bottom? Oliwer wastes a few moments looking over the edge. It's in those few moments where G'laer should be resurfacing that the healer starts worrying that he hasn't. "G'laer?!" Because calling for him will help! He might even swear to himself, several times, before he takes a few breaths, a few steps back, then takes a running leap, yelling without dignity all the way down to the splash at the end. G'laer is a horrible person. Watching from under the rushing waters of the fall, he probably enjoyed every moment of Oliwer's yell, and leap, and-- doesn't even come out now. He's a terrible, awful, horrible man. At least Oliwer knows how to swim. He probably wouldn't have jumped if he didn't, right? Probably. But once he's landed and resurfaced, and G'laer hasn't made himself visible, there's panic in his voice when he calls out again, looking all around him into the water, "G'laer!" G'laer is laughing (because he's a horrible person!) when he emerges from the waters of the fall, swimming toward Oliwer with a giant smile on his face. Laughing is not what Oliwer wants to hear right now! He's too relieved to do anything like yell at G'laer but that just give him time to work up to splashing water at the greenrider once he gets closer. "I ought to drown you myself for that!" "Want to try?" G'laer is remorseless, grinning at the healer as he persists through the splash that hits him squarely in the face, and getting close enough to offer him the chance. "I think I do!" Oliwer says that with enough bluster, for him anyway, to almost (not really) make him sound serious. But when G'laer gets close enough for the healer to grab him, it's just to wrap an arm around his neck and kiss him. The kiss, anyway, threatens to go on long enough for him to feel the lack of breath. The bluster isn't enough to scare G'laer away, in fact, it only brings him nearer; he probably wants to see if the healer will make good on the threat. The kissing is readily accepted as a replacement however, and by the time it's over, the greenrider's helpfully maneuvered them somewhere they can comfortably stand, even if the sediment shifts a little under their feet. "Had you ever done that before?" Cliff diving. G'laer keeps the other man pulled close against him as he asks, and his hands are not idle under the water. "Shells, no! I probably wouldn't have done it now if I didn't think you might be drowning," says Oliwer, thumping a hand against G'laer's chest for emphasis. Damn him! There might have been more behind that thump, granted, but the greenrider's hands have a way of keeping Oli from getting too worked up. About the drowning scare, anyway. "Then I'm glad I did it." He definitely would've been anyway. "Do you feel alive?" G'laer wants to know then, hands not minding that there's serious conversation in progress. "Is that what that feeling is?" asks Oliwer, a grin spreading across his face. There are certainly other indications that the healer is feeling something. "I'll admit sometimes part of me is sad I didn't meet you sooner. But I'm not sure I would've survived it if I had." He sounds like he likes it, though. That's what's important. "Sure you would have," G'laer contradicts, "I'd've made certain of it. Although, really, meeting me sooner might've been awful, you know. Teisyth-- she changed me. I didn't mean for her to, but she did." He probably wouldn't've been the sort the healer would've gotten involved with were it not for Teisyth's encouragement to her rider, and hey, thank Rhey while he's at it; an awful flight pushed him that last little bit, to need to scratch the itch. Considering how exciting Oliwer seems to find certain things about G'laer, it's possible he might have been more interested than he'd like to think he would have been. "I'm just glad I have you now. I was getting kind of tired of being celibate, if we're going to be completely honest." Oliwer offers a smile with that. "Do you want to jump again?" That makes G'laer laugh again, and then more when he poses the final question. "Whatever you want to do," but then he's leaning in to murmur, "Just know before we get out of this pool for good, I'm going to have my way with you." He grins at the healer, confident. There's a breath that catches in Oliwer's throat and, just like that, he's thinking about G'laer and not any cliffs he might want to try jumping off of now that he knows his weyrmate isn't drowning. "Well, you know how to make things hard." Decisions. He's talking about decisions. It's nice then that G'laer is perfectly capable of making decisions. "Cliffs first, then. Let's go." So there will be more jumping, more fun this time and less panic because it never works a second time anyway, so G'laer doesn't try. Then the healer can cross another item off his bucket list if he's never made love in water before today, then he has now. And then Oliwer is encouraged toward a nap while G'laer takes his fish spear into the the river that flows away from the waterfall. They move the blanket, of course, to where Oli can keep an eye on him, and vice versa, though G'laer doesn't go in deeper than his knees. By the time the healer's awake, there's fish enough for dinner. G'laer offers to the trauma healer to gut the things, if he likes, but he's certainly willing to perform that duty should the older man decline. Then it's back to the plateau where Teisyth waits, to start the fire and cook the fish; they even manage to find some fruit along the way and Oli has the option to climb up or to watch G'laer as he goes to get the fruit. Those on the higher branches are skillfully shot with blunted arrows and brought down to the ground. It'll be good eating for 'roughing it.' After they've eaten, once Oliwer is tucked under G'laer's arm and against Teisyth's side, the greenrider poses the question, "Do you ever wish we weren't in an Interval?" It's awhile before Oliwer manages any napping. It's much more fun to watch G'laer. But he's snoozing when the greenrider comes back with the fish, so he manages eventually. He even tries his hand at cleaning some fish once he's had G'laer show him how it's done. There might be some distaste for that, but it's probably easier than seeing the insides of people. Once they're back and fed and sitting so comfortably against the green, Oliwer has to consider that question for a few moments. "I suppose I thought about it on occasion when I was a boy. But now? No. I like the idea of never having to lose anyone I love to something so... pointless." Especially now that he has a dragonriding weyrmate. The greenrider's eyes are directed at the stars, expression thoughtful. "Sometimes I wish we were in a Pass because it occasionally feels like we, dragonmen, are irritatingly useless. I mean Teisyth has a hard time with flaming," Oli is surely familiar with that particular scar on his forearm, "but it doesn't feel like enough to preserve the lessons future riders will need to be successful, you know?" Maybe he doesn't, but G'laer's gaze shifts down to his face anyway. "I can see how you might feel that way, I suppose. But I think that you're possibly the least useless dragonman I know." Never mind that Oliwer doesn't actually know many dragonriders. He tilts his head to look at the greenrider. "You've considered continuing your old work?" If that's not where this was heading anyway, maybe the healer is just curious. "Yes." The response comes quietly. "But I'm not sure it's really feasible. Once you have a dragon, you are a representative of your Weyr. You are as a guard, too, I suppose, but no one thinks twice about a Holder's guardsman bringing any Holder's criminals to justice. Suddenly you have a dragon and it's the Weyr sticking it's nose into Holder affairs, and Weyrs generally have fewer incidents of wanted men, and when they do, they task the people they want on it to take care of it, I'd imagine. It's the natural divide between Weyr and Hold." The greenrider shifts to draw Oliwer a little closer. "You're never so private a citizen once there's a dragon involved. Men can be Holdless, but I doubt any dragon would ever choose to be Weyrless. It's just in them, I think, their Weyr, their allegiance to their queen. Or it's in her, anyway." A little movement of his head makes their backrest rumble cheerily. "And I answer two different people now, anyway. I can't imagine a man like K'del being too pleased with one of his riders bounty hunting, let alone killing those wanted dead." It's all said in a serious and thoughtful way, until this last which gets tossed off with some sense of a roll to the eyes, even if he doesn't act it out. "Maybe you should talk to him. If it's something you want to do." Not that Oliwer seems sure how he feels about it himself. G'laer being a dragonrider, just a dragonrider, right now is relatively safe. A guard? A bountyhunter? Not so much. "Surely there are people that knew you before that would understand you're still capable of doing the work. Maybe the Weyrleader would even like someone in that position. Closer to the Holds." Oliwer isn't a political sort of man. And he's a little naive about how the Real World works. But it sounds practical enough to him. "No. It's not a good idea." Of this much, G'laer seems certain, though whether that's because of K'del or because of Oliwer... "I wouldn't even be able to hunt as I used to. Subtlety is a big piece of it and--" Does he need to finish explaining when their backrest is suddenly shaking with her own ridiculous and not the least bit understated style of laughter? Teisyth's amusement seems to make it hard for Oliwer to keep a straight face or think all that seriously for the next few moments. "Well," he finally says, "I know you'll find something worthwhile and satisfying to do with yourself." The healer has faith in his greenrider like that. "What does Teisyth think you should do?" "Fly backwards." The response is a beat after the question is posed so the answer must come from the green herself. "She means do what makes me happy, not what would please everyone else. Although, I think if she didn't have to haul around people tied up and gagged, she'd be more happy than if I ask her to." G'laer adds then shifting again so he can take one of Oliwer's hands and begin to trace it with his fingers. "What do you think I should do?" "I think I have to agree with her." Imagine that! Oliwer and Teisyth agreeing on something. "Life is entirely too short to waste living how you don't want to live." Oliwer might not entirely approve of tying people up and gagging them or, worse, killing them. But he adores the greenrider and that's more important. "You should do what fulfills you." That never happens. Some amusement plays on G'laer's face at those words. "If only Teisyth had been bronze like she was supposed to, then I could've been Weyrleader." And then, clearly, the world would be a much better place. "I suppose I could see about a wing transfer. If the core of our purpose as dragonmen now is to preserve the knowledge and find a way to be less useless in the Interval, the best place for that sort of thing is probably working with Quinlys and her weyrlings." Because G'laer would be awesome with moody teenagers who are taking care of baby dragons right?? "It never has made much sense to me that the Weyrleader is chosen by pure chance. And so many of them seem so..." Not the sort of people Oliwer tends to enjoy the company of. And even if G'laer might not be some peoples' first choice to work with moody teenagers who are taking care of baby dragons, the healer smiles up at the greenrider like he likes the sound of it. Very much. "I think you would be a brilliant weyrlingmaster, Gal. And Teisyth, too." "Is that because it's safe?" G'laer questions, tone teasing. "Maybe," Oliwer allows. "I do like the idea of your job not putting you at extra risk, I'll admit. You can't blame me for that." He smiles. No one can blame a smiling Oliwer. "But I think you'd be good at it regardless. Seems like you'd... care about them actually learning. Wouldn't you?" "I would," which will make him their least favorite teacher. Maybe Quinlys should take him on just so she never has to be the one they don't like. "But it's not easy teaching a thing that's disciplined when our Weyrwoman goes around asking everyone to call her Azaylia. It sets an inappropriate tone for the whole mess." The greenrider isn't smiling, not that that's unusual, but he seems genuinely frustrated. "I might not be able to hack it." Suddenly, "If I ever had to transfer away for some reason, would you try to come with me? If you work allowed it, I mean." G'laer would never ask Oli to give up that. "I'm sure it's nothing you wouldn't be able to handle. Some people don't like being called by their titles, though. I hated being called Apprentice. I didn't like Journeyman for awhile, either." Though he might have just accepted that it's easier to let people call him whatever they want. "I'm not sure I'd ever get used to Master. Master Oliwer. It sounds strange." He's getting off topic, so he refocuses. "Of course I'd try. As hard as I could. If you wanted me to." "Oh? So, you'd not like it even a little bit if one night I decided to try it out, Apprentice Oliwer?" There's amusement sparking in G'laer's eyes at the idea, leaning a moment later to press a kiss onto the older man's neck. "I thought you weren't interested in becoming a Master?" This curiosity has him pulling back and looking down at the healer again. "And I'd want you to try so hard you succeeded. Always." The healer makes a sound that might suggest he might like it a little bit. But he still says, "Mm, no. I don't think that will work very well." Ignore that smile of his as G'laer pulls back to look down at him. It fades soon enough. "I'm not. Not really. Can you imagine? No. My father thought to talk about it a lot while I was covering for him, though. You know how they can be." Parents. Meddling parents. "Good. That's settled then." He'll follow G'laer wherever he may or may not go. G'laer's expression seeing the smile shows that it's easy enough to guess that it will come up at some point for a more extended test. G'laer might even wear his reading glasses for effect. "Oh, I don't know. I feel like I don't have any anymore," parents. But that's a blissful statement, grinning wide as he looks to Oliwer now. "But I don't want to talk about them just now. I want to think about more pleasant things. Like you and I and the stars and the moons." It's pretty. And that's probably damn close to G'laer feeling romantic. It's a good thing Oliwer hasn't gotten into any habit that includes sexy time with G'laer's reading glasses. Or he might never want him to take them off. Oliwer still manages to look a little sheepish at the mention of the greenrider's parents. But he doesn't comment on that because he's too busy looking happy and touched by those words. "That's the most pleasant thing you've ever said to me." It's not, really. The Three Words totally trump that. But right now it is very pleasant. "Is it?" G'laer's expression is pleased and so carefree. "I shall have to try to outdo myself." This is delivered dramatically, even a little bit sillily. "I love being here with you. Feeling like we're the only two people in the whole of Pern." Teisyth doesn't count. She's a dragon. "This might be the best day of my life to date, or at least in the top five, and I love you, Oliwer." The first bits come out a little by theatrical, but not ingenuous, and by the end, he sounds entirely sincere. Then a breath later he adds, "I can't imagine my life without you." And, "Wouldn't want to. Not ever." Even if the greenrider's words start out a bit dramatic, by the end Oliwer has hints of tears in his eyes. "Oh, G'laer," murmurs the healer on a breath because he can't think of anything else to say. So instead of trying to say anything, he tries to kiss the other man instead. G'laer's broad grin only gets in the way of kissing for a moment. Then he's shifting them both to be more horizontal on the blanket. And Teisyth? She's too nosy for her own good about many things, but in this she gives them privacy by turning her back and moving a few paces away. She stays close enough though that the two won't be interrupted by predators of a less friendly variety. By morning, they found their way to the tent and by the time Oliwer rises, the greenrider and his bow and spear are long gone, but Teisyth is there to greet the healer with a cheery good morning. "Morning," says Oliwer to the green as he makes his way out of the tent. He stretches, then takes a few moments to peer around for any sign of G'laer. "Has he been gone long?" he asks, glancing Teisyth-wards but probably not expecting much in the way of a specific answer. "I don't know why he doesn't wake me. I'm not that old." Some might say he's not old at all. But he would have to politely disagree with them. The warble is her cheerful good morning, a familiar set of notes that G'laer's told him before roughly translate to 'Well, howdy do, Healer Oliwer sir,' and no, it doesn't matter how many times she's told just to call him Oliwer or Oli, she forgets in a matter of days, always. Then she considers the question. Time is hard. But she does eventually bob her head in a way that confirms that at least by her reckoning, G'laer's been gone a long time. She snorts a little, placing her wide head down on the ground, a show of frustration because she might answer his words, except G'laer tells her not to. Ugh, G'laer. The green's greeting makes the healer smile. Most things about the green do, granted. Oliwer is generally pretty fond of Teisyth. They have very similar taste in men, after all. "Does he think he'll be back anytime soon?" He asks as he approaches, waiting for some indication that it's okay for him to touch her before attempting a gentle scratch over her eyeridges. The bobbing to answer this is much more enthusiastic. It's always more fun to say G'laer is coming back than to say he is gone, after all. But then she forces herself to be still (except for the way that hooked tail of hers is haphazardly smacking the ground behind her as it does tend to when she's trying hard not to wiggle elsewhere), and as ever, she fakes Oliwer out as he goes for the eyeridge, rolling her head onto the side so his hand is perfectly positioned to scratch her chin. It's her secret favorite. It's an honor to know such a thing, G'laer once imparted gravely before grinning. "Good. I miss him when he's gone." Perhaps Oliwer thinks that's something Teisyth can relate to, despite the fact that he's never quite gone for her in the same way. He laughs at the repositioning and obliges readily, scratching the green's chin with the well-practiced fingers of a healer. The croon from Teisyth does, indeed, say she relates; gone is gone, especially when G'laer is making her stay out of his head, mostly, so he can hunt without distraction. Oliwer should know by now that once he starts this, it's very difficult to stop because without G'laer here to check her, Teisyth's head will follow the healer throughout his morning tasks. He'll be lucky if he's left alone to pee. It won't be overlong, however, before G'laer will be rescuing his weyrmate from his dragon's eager attention. It takes both of his hands to carry the wild porcine that's getting blood on his pants as he moves. But rest assured Teisyth will be glad to help her lifemate with that, carrying it carefully in a claw over to the campsite and leaving G'laer to greet his lover, sweaty and bloodstained as he is. If nothing else, Teisyth is a (mostly) nice distraction where, other than a few routine activities, Oliwer isn't entirely sure what to do with himself while G'laer is absent. When the greenrider returns, the healer is trying to read. He seems more than a little relieved to see his weyrmate, though, and rises to greet G'laer, blood, sweat and all. He's never really minded a sweaty G'laer, of course, and he's relatively certain that the blood is from the porcine, so there's little hesitation over wrapping his arms around the other man. "Looks like your hunting went well?" Or at least ended successfully? "Yes." It's an easy answer from G'laer and it comes with a grin. "Caught a few other things too, left them in a makeshift trap. If I'm lucky, there'll be wild wherries to shoot when I go back." It's certainly more than the two of them can eat from the sounds of things. "But I thought since she said you were awake that you might like breakfast. And then maybe a shooting lesson," since that was a part of the original idea. Even Oliwer seems rather aware that it's more than they could eat themselves, but it makes him ask curiously, "Does Teisyth hunt while you're down here?" The mention of breakfast makes his stomach growl in an unflattering way. Was that audible? "I could eat," he says with an only slightly embarrassed grin. "If anyone can teach me anything, I'm sure it's you. Just... be gentle." Still grinning, less embarrassed. "She does. When she is hungry. She hunted yesterday while we were at the waterfall." So, not for Teisyth then. Could it be that G'laer is wastefully hunting for sport? "Good then. It'll be a bit but I picked berries if you want something to tide you over." A satchel is loosed from his belt and offered over to the healer before he heads to where Teisyth has the porcine, stopping to get the appropriate supplies for cleaning it and butchering it. Berries sound fantastic, so Oliwer accepts the satchel with a smile of thanks. But he moves to follow after G'laer rather than just hang around munching on them. He might regret that if he hangs around for the whole cleaning. He asks as he follows, "Do you bring food to people? Like that woman?" You know, the one that died. G'laer might get to wondering sometime about how Oliwer makes it through life as a trauma healer if he can't cope with the evisceration and butchering of a wild porcine. "I do." He confirms. "I also take my extra to some of the places in Nabol that were the most effected by Rone's army." It's not that he can't cope with those things, thank you very much. It's that the inside of a porcine smells even worse than the outside of one. It has a way of turning off an appetite. But at least that will help hold him off until they can eat. Oliwer has a somewhat proud smile for G'laer's answer, though. "That's kind of you. I bet they appreciate that. Especially during winter." "A lot of innocents got caught in the middle of something that wasn't about them. I don't really know what Rone's plan was anyway; it's not like an heir is elected by popular vote. He must've been a dimglow," is the greenrider's conclusion. "But let's save politics for when the rest of the world has to exist again. What were you reading?" G'laer will be content to listen to Oliwer talk about his book, the greenrider's own love of the things well known, as he cleans the carcass and then gets it onto the cooking fire. Rukbat is directly overhead before G'laer is stepped close behind Oliwer, gently guiding him in how to draw the arrow back and not drop it. "Right." Politics can wait. Oliwer isn't really a big fan of them anyway. Maybe he should be. But he isn't. As for the book, he's more than willing to share its subject; anecdotal journal entries from healer journals covering various experiences, personal work with procedures and the like. Quite fascinating, really. Oliwer is a decent student despite having no experience with the subject material of bows and arrows. The thing he's most decent at is doing what he's told, though he's not particularly strong as men go. And he even wants to learn enough that he doesn't let G'laer's proximity distract him. That ought to count for something. It ought, also, to count for something that G'laer's desire to teach is enough to keep him from doing anything extra distracting, though he no doubt enjoys the proximity. He's a patient teacher and takes it seriously, though there are also moments of levity when G'laer's not explained something clearly enough and the instruction followed results in something funny. These moments are surely only because Oliwer is the student. After some time, lessons are over and the camp site is broken down. Then G'laer is departing with a kiss (and some oil skins and some sort of contraption for carrying carcasses back). His return is not so long after that, but in the meantime it's been offered that Teisyth will fly him to the beach not far from where they are to bathe and enjoy while the greenrider finishes his work. He must have hunted in the jungle between the campsite and the beach for that's how he arrives, waving to the healer before setting about securing the day's catch to Teisyth's straps. When lessons are finished, Oliwer is only mildly reluctant to let G'laer run off to fetch his catches. But the beach is apparently a decent enough replacement for the greenrider while he's gone and the healer takes advantage of the time he has there. When G'laer returns, Oliwer is just pulling clothes back on himself. His smile probably isn't as obvious as waving, but it's sincere in that new love sort of way. Seeing his weyrmate after time away, any time, tends to do that to him. Once he's finished dressing, Oliwer starts to make his way toward Teisyth. "I almost wish we didn't have to go back. I kind of like us having each other to ourselves." And Teisyth. But she's kind of a given. "So do I." G'laer's smile is no less sincere. It might be best for everyone if G'laer took his two loves and vanished, "Unfortunately that is not for us. Dragons belong in a Weyr." He hooks the last item and then digs into another pack. "But we'll do this more often. Maybe once a month or so?" He suggests before starting to strip out of the bloodied clothes. "I'm going to rinse off before we head back. Anything else you wanted to do while we were here?" "I think I'd like that. Maybe I'll even manage to hit something I'm supposed to hit at some point." Oliwer grins but his gaze is wandering. Who can blame him? "Just watch you walk around naked. You know, nothing I couldn't do at home." There's a beat before he adds, "No beach at home, though." So doing it here is clearly a novel experience. "Are you dropping this stuff off on our way back?" "I suppose for that you'll need to practice getting the arrow to release from the bow and not end up at your feet first," G'laer teases, but his smile is warm and he does add a reassuring, "I'm sure it can be done." The answer the healer gives him for the second matter is foregone briefly for the third, "Yes. It will be quick. They never waste time where food's concerned. We'll stop at two of the smaller holdings working on making a come back." Then he steps to the healer and kisses him for some long moments before heading for the water without another word. Maybe it's just to make the walk that much more entertaining or maybe it's an invitation. "Ha ha," says Oliwer to the greenrider's teasing. But he's grinning too wide to look properly cross. There's only a nod for the dropping off of food before he's kissing the greenrider back. And once G'laer is walking away, Oliwer only takes a few moments, watching his weyrmate walk away, before following after him. Who cares if he just got dressed again? He apparently doesn't. The greenrider duly spends time rinsing himself clean of sweat and blood before trying anything with his weyrmate and things are kept fairly tame if still enjoyable. Once they've had a proper bath, then they can see about something else. G'laer doesn't let things get too out of hand time-wise - though they're both sure to have a little bit more of a tan when they get back from the reflection of Rukbat on the water. Getting dressed has its fun too, then they're up and off to make deliveries, stop at the hot springs to together give Teisyth a good scrub. Then home, and no doubt an early bed for more reasons than just weariness. All in all, a lovely little getaway for the weyrmates. |
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