Logs:Thoughts like sinking stones
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| RL Date: 27 April, 2007 |
| Who: Lujayn, P'draig |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Skipping stones. |
| Where: Lake Shore, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 10, Turn 14 (Interval 10) |
| Autumn is in full swing at Fort and it's definitely too cold to swim in the lake now. The Weyrlingmaster is ambling along the shoreline, hands stuck in jacket pockets, a scarf slung loosely about his neck against evening's chill. It's getting dark out, the last of the sunset fading into twiglight and the breeze scuds across the lake's surface causing white-capped waves. A moment or two pass and then the brownrider loosely kicks a rock into the lake. *thunk* Ripples spread from where the rock went in, fighting against the direction of the waves. Lujayn is sitting near the shore, looking a little damp below the knees as if she has tried wading in said icy lake. She watches the waves, distracted by that *plunk* that is P'draig's rock. She looks back with a little smile and a wave. "'Lo, P'draig." P'draig looks up from his walk and grins. "Heya, Lu," friendly-like. He approaches the girl and eyes the lake. "Mind some company? I like to skip stones out here sometimes when I've got a lot on my mind." A handful of suitably flat stones appears in his palm from his pocket and he offers one over to her. "What's the most skips you've ever gotten?" "I don't mind at all. And.." Lu thinks, taking one of the smooth stones with a nod. "A few. I think I'm pretty good once I get going, actually." Her fingers curve around the rock, testing its weight as she looks out to the water. "Are you skipping stones because you have a lot on your mind right now?" She picks up on that tack fairly quickly, flicking her wrist and letting the stone fly. It skips once before vanishing. P'draig turns the handful of stones over, finally selecting one. "Yep. I am," says the Weyrlingmaster and sends his stone after hers. It hops four times and sinks under the waves. He's had a lot of practice it seems. "How're you doing? Been doing a lot of running?" Lujayn begins to scout for more suitable stones, bending over to feel along the rough shoreline. Musing over one choice in particular, she watches him throw. "Definitely. I didn't think I'd gotten so out of practice, but it just happened.." This time the stone, forcefully thrown, skips three times. Lu smiles. "I need to get back in the swing of things." "Yep, nothing to do for that but practice," says P'draig amiably and flicks another one of the stones he apparently searches for and collects frequently out into the water again. Three full skips and the last sort of peters out and dies, the stone turning on its side and vanishing beneath the surface. "What about you?" Lujayn takes her time before her next throw, walking a few feet down the shore. "Working hard? I haven't seen you around for a few days." She tosses the rock between hands, not letting it go just yet. The Weyrlingmaster's head bobs up and down. "Yep. Lots of work to do." He grins and sorts through the three remaining stones in his hand. "Lots going on in general, trying to sort it all out." P'draig picks out a stone and it dangles loosely from his hand, not thrown yet. "Ever been caught between a rock and a hard place?" Lujayn inspects her last stone while P'draig speaks, tossing it absently. It doesn't even skip once. The runner sighs and watches it sink. "Yeah." She doesn't ask any questions, though a look in her eye says she is clearly dying to do so. "Not a lot of times, but some. Enough." Lu shakes her head and plants herself down for a sit, watching the waves come and go once more. "Yeah," echoes P'draig and skips the stone out onto the lake. One, two. Plonk. Gone. "Doing the right thing isn't always easiest," an elaboration of sorts. "What's the hardest thing you've ever had to do?" He looks over at Lu curiously. Lujayn watches P'draig curiously. The right thing? "I've never thought about it before." She switches her gaze to her feet, scuffing at the sand. "Being a candidate is one of the hardest things I can remember. But I didn't /have/ to." Lu toys with that word. "I suppose being a runner was, too. Or at least getting my foot in the door. I really had to prove I could do something before they'd take me on." She shrugs. "Anyone can run, it's just how and why you run that matters. I like it." "Mm. Candidacy is a tough 'yes'." P'draig muses and flips one more stone out. This one fails to skip at all, caught on the side of frothy wave. "How'd you get started with being a runner again? And ... what's the why for you?" The last stone in his hands shifts from palm to palm, fingers running over the smooth outward edge. "It almost just kind of.. happened." Lujayn rests her chin on her hands. "I took messages all the time when I was little. Aunties said it was the only way to keep me from getting into everything. Then I got to be older, and by that time I didn't want to do anything else. Like a habit." The next question is harder. "I like running; I like being able to just run and not worry about anything else, or without anyone else around. It takes more skill than people ever think about." "Hobby, turned habit, turned way of life ...hmm" P'draig's expression turns thoughtful. "Cooking was like that for me, you get into a zone ..." he trails off and shrugs. Lujayn nods in agreement. "Exactly." She picks up another rock, nowhere near flat, and lobs it out just to hear the satisfying *plunk* it makes upon hitting the water. "What's bothering you?" She asks after a few long moments of silence, noticing the thoughtful look again. "I miss doing nothing but cooking somtimes. Wouldn't trade Jekzith for the world, but..." he shrugs again and then smiles. "Sadly, it's something that I'm not sure a kid your age should be hearing about," continues the Weyrlingmaster with chuckle and then makes big eyes. "Relationship stuff." Lujayn purses her lips in an almost-pout, looking stubbornly up at P'draig. "I'm fourteen in a month." She objects. "But I see you in the kitchens all the time. Or I used to; I'm not much there myself anymore. Sometimes must be better than never." "Sometimes is better than never, yep, right now though, there's not much time for cooking. Later. Maybe." He smiles again and looks out over the water, tossing the last rock. "Don't be in too much of a hurry to grow up. Things get complicated." "At least it's hard to avoid running," Lujayn reasons, watching the last stone go. "It seems you can do so many things once you're older. Nice to know I can't get any younger." "More and less at the same time." Cryptic again, P'draig drops down into a seat, knees drawn up slightly, elbows propped atop them, hand dangling a little. "There's a lot to be said for not having /too/ much responsibility." He winks over at the runner then looks back out over the lake, any vestige of light utterly gone now, replaced by twinkling stars, the sliver of one moon, the other almost full. Lujayn is still, just looking out over the water quietly. Words pass as the stars shine, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to see them all the better. "I'll let you know if it gets any more exciting." She grins at the wink. "Times like this, now, those are worth not having anything to do." The laughter starts out low and then turns merry. "Hear, hear," says P'draig in between laughs. "Time's pressing on though, gotta go do Barracks check in a minute. Make sure they're all dossed down for the night. Did you get dinner?" Lujayn shakes her head. "If you have to go check on them, I can get dinner and tell everyone how responsible you are." She teases, but doesn't look eager to leave the shore. The Weyrlingmaster laughs again. "In a minute." P'draig leans forward a little to rest his chin on his forearm, falling silent as he contemplates the lake's restless waters, the reflection of the moons appears, ruffled out in the depths. Lujayn laughs quietly, taking the cue from P'draig to stay where she is. The night is chilly but not yet bitter, and the runner is content to sit for as long as anyone would let her. She watches the stars first before glancing aside to the Weyrlingmaster, and finally following his gaze out to the water. "Two minutes." "Okay. Two," concedes P'draig, sitting in companionable silence while more and more stars peek out a veritable river high above in the inky blackness. Among them shines the comet, no longer a wonder to behold, but the Weyrlingmaster's gaze avoids the brilliance of that flying object until the night's chill and the call of duty send him and the runner off in separate directions. |
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