Logs:Too Cold
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| RL Date: 28 January, 2015 |
| Who: Alida, Ilicaeth, Liesanth, Telavi, Solith |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Tela and Solith, Alida and Ilicaeth deal with the beginnings of a blizzard. |
| Where: HRW: Western Bowl |
| When: Day 10, Month 12, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
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| It's not like it's late, but it doesn't have to be. With the storm blustering its way in, snow's already falling, and worse, it's getting dark. Worse for Telavi, anyway; she's walking, sometimes slipping, back and forth down icy paths closer into the middle of the Bowl and away from the handhold ropes. Her head is bare and tilted down, the wind blowing at her braids and carrying away the muffled sounds she makes. Solith watches from nearby, eyes whirling erratically in concern, and at least once she stretches her head over only to get, "...can't see!" from her rider. Shiver-shiver-shiver. « Do you have cold? Liesanth? » (To Liesanth from Solith) If anyone is in worse shape then Telavi (and any other walkers crazy enough to be out in the developing blizzard, right now), it might be Alida and Ilicaeth, who burst out from Between into the heart of the storm. Good thing the outgoing blue had been chatting up a few of his draconic buddies holed up at 'Reaches, or the transition from Istan beaches and warmth to frozen hell would have been even worse. As it is, the craggy blue's having to fight for much of his worth to get towards the ground, his yellow eyes twice-inner lidded against driving wind and snow, wings and tail working hard, flailing to keep him properly aligned to the earth. There's no sound except for the shrieking wind and scraping snow, not even as eye-marked blue wings thrash and fan, vane and cup. Soon enough, however, there's a muffled 'thud' and a faint shivering of the rock beneath feet as Ilicaeth contacts the ground... a little late. It seemed closer than it was, in the storm. And so, the blue 'trips' the last handful of feet to the ground, his limbs churning as he chinplants, Alida falling partially off her perch between her lifemate's 'ridges...only her safety straps saving her from pitching forward right off the blue. All that, and the worst of the blizzard isn't even here yet. Solith turns in increasing agitation, warbling to her half-fallen clutchmate, loudly enough to distract Telavi from her obsession. "What now?!" The only sound from his throat after that of Ilicaeth hitting the ground is the loud creel from the burly blue, at odds with his typical bearing. Oh well; even the toughest take their knocks, sometimes. Through the increasing blizzard - working itself towards white-out phase - there's not much left for Tela, Solith, or anyone else foolish enough to linger outside to see of the blue pair...just an occasional smudge of darker motion in the near-distance. Give blue dragon and his 'partner' about two minutes, however, and they too are working to pick their way through the Bowl, neither of the bruised pair near those safety ropes. As they move with gritted teeth and lowered head through the storm, the male's mostly-genial baritone grumbles in minor, sand-scratched pain to his sister, « Where are ya? » If he had a landmark to locate any of them by, he'd feel better. If it's that close to white-out, then by the time the other pair approaches, there's not much point in Tela looking a lot longer-- though some might argue there hasn't much point for a while now-- and she has an unhappy face about it all. « Over here, » Solith says, not sounding so happy either. Over here means closer to the cliff, but still not close to it. « You are not too hurt, Ilicaeth? Do you see anything pink-like? » is quickly followed by, « Please do not step on Telavi. » Perhaps Telavi herself cannot be trusted to not get in the way. The winds of Liesanth's mindvoice carry a sense of agreement, and of a lament. Why does the warm always go away so quickly? (To Solith from Liesanth) Solith laments too. It is sad. It is very very sad. Also, « It is cold and Ilicaeth did not land right, » though there's a sense that he's all right, « and Telavi still cannot find her hat. » Which apparently is a Problem. (To Liesanth from Solith) Closer to a rock wall/cliff is better than utterly out in the open! « Okay...we're comin'. » He'll be very careful, he promises...if only to not step on his *own* rider, as well, though Alida's holding one end of a rope that Ilicaeth has between his lips at its other end, her nearest hand settled along one of his slowly-moving forelimbs. Wouldn't do to get seperated in this weather, either. « Doin' okay... » the blue assures Solith, only the smallest nuances of his painful chin and chest bruises leaking through to her. The warrior sallies forth! « All I see is snow... » the blue's desert-gritty baritone notes dryly, then sharing what he sees with her, hoping to mesh their disparate images of 'nearby' until they blend, meet up. « Good, » Solith breathes, reassured by that unspoken promise. She thinks to warble again after a moment, this time not in distress but as guidance. Except, for only snow, « ...Uh oh. » A pause, followed by curiosity. « Is it a Special hat? » Liesanth understands Special things; he doesn't quite grasp what makes certain things Special, other than that riders get very upset when they lose their Special things. (To Solith from Liesanth) « I think so, » no, she's sure so, once she's put it into words and had it reflect off her inner sense of how things are. « She does not like to lose Anything, » Solith supplies, « but this is Special, and also it keeps her head warm, and she says her head is getting cold, but she does not want to get another hat to look for this one, » and what's a dragon to do? « What does your rider lose? » (To Liesanth from Solith) There's something that Ilicaeth can't quite remember to do, but he quickly picks it up again from Alida's mind when both of them hear the echo of Solith's warble sounding through the moist air and around the Bowl. « Sound off short, low-pitched calls. The moisture, wind, rock c'n mess up sounds, 'specially when they're higher-pitched. » If she can manage it, a subterranean rumble that might make the ground quiver could help more...and he hopefully demonstrates this well enough by halting his slow steps for a few moments (and his rider's, too), setting the side of his jaw to the snowy rock beneath them all...and giving forth as deep and low of a rumble as he can. Maybe she can feel it, as well as hear it. Subterranean rumble. Solith. Not... so much. But that doesn't mean she doesn't try! « Like this? » It's lower, to be sure. Solith even puts her head atop her paws to do it, just for Ilicaeth, even if it's not on the ground. The ground is cold! « His favorite boots, » Liesanth answers. The mental image that accompanies this statement is not of missing boots, however, but of a pair of sturdy leather boots, of fine craftsmanship, with the tops somehow glued shut. Even Liesanth's mental touch is colored by indignation as he relates this image. (To Solith from Liesanth) The deep rumble in the distance might be distracting her, or maybe it's the cold on her chin, but... « I do not understand, » Solith admits in wistful confidence that Liesanth can clear up her confusion. (To Liesanth from Solith) Indignation is her answer, folloewd by « They cheated! » A sense of competition, of rivalry, with another wing. The rising fury at the realization that the other wing had bribed the judges to give them an easy time at their Threadfall, while Hematite was to be challenged. And... somehow, the whole thing degenerating into things like one rider gluing another's favorite boots shut? (To Solith from Liesanth) Yeah... he was wondering about that. « Think uv' when Hraedhyth gets us hummin' when 'er eggs 're ready ta hatch. Right when she senses it. How we all start off... » The only reason he 'remembers' this repeating instinct is because his rider's mind supplies him with it as she both nods in agreement *and* chuckles at her canny blue's facile mind. « I gotta feel yer voice in the rock. Did'ja feel mine? » And this time, he'll first bark out a quick, stacatto note upon the air before setting face to earth again and rumbling as deeply as possible. At that, Solith fairly embodies uncertainty, but then she might be distracted-- indignation that's not her own, if also not about this humming-- « Some? Mostly what I feel is cold, » Solith says sadly. « It was short this time and loud, not just long and loud like... like that. » Did she get it right? « They did?! That is not good! » Also not fair. « They cheat and they hurt his boots both? » Why are they so mean? (To Liesanth from Solith) « Because they are Insecure, » Liesanth answers, as if he has a clue what this means and isn't just parroting something his rider or wingleader or someone else said. « And they believe that if they can beat the best wing, they will feel better. But they cannot beat us fairly. » (To Solith from Liesanth) « Oh. » Solith, uncertain-- not quite as though she's trying to hide that she has no clue, so much as that she doesn't want it to get in the way. « Sometimes, » she offers, « a fast flier will let someone else start first, so they can have a chance, only then everyone still knows the fast flier would win anyway, but it is a better chase. » (To Liesanth from Solith) « Yes! » Liesanth agrees, because this seems like the perfect analogy to him. « Except that they decided to start first, and then pretend they did not start first. » (To Solith from Liesanth) « But everyone would see, and then they would be shamed, at least, if it were not for a game, » and this isn't a game... is it? (To Liesanth from Solith) He's quite happy to supply her with his own certainty...even if Ilicaeth truly is *not* so certain, right now. Maybe Solith can help herself to some of the blue's mental (if not physical) warmth, since they just arrived from Ista after baking under the sun for some hours. « I think you heard my call. » His bark of out-loud vocalization. « You could feel my, uh... fake hum through yer body. » Again, there's the blue's short, loud bark, then his deep thrumming rumble into the ground. « I sent two. Did'ja hear the first, feel the second? » Maybe she can even hear the second, as well? If this doesn't work out, they're going to have to try other things to get them to safety. Pause. « Alida says ta ask Telavi if she's gettin' too cold. » Solith would like this mental warmth, she would! « I think so, » she repeats, but she's shivering enough to feel even over the mental link. « She is. She has been. But she cannot find her hat, Ilicaeth. » So tragic! « I do not understand, » Liesanth admits. Which, for the bronze, is a bit of a big admission. « I just know that they laughed at us, and I did not like it. » (To Solith from Liesanth) Solith certainly does not laugh. In fact, « I would not like that either. » Has she been laughed at? It's unclear, but then, her memories aren't the sharpest; empathy serves well enough. She's shivering by now. She starts to add something, then trails off, quiet. They should not. (To Liesanth from Solith) Shivering heavily. Not good. Ilicaeth privately shares this with Alida, who quickly enough notes aloud to her blue, "Her HAT?! Fuck it all!" Even the guard's angry bark likely gets lost in the teeth of the storm. "You tell Solith that she's gotta' call off the search for that friggin' hat immediately!" Or risk dying from exposure. And so, the blue complies - leaving out the part about death from exposure, of course, so as not to panic his sister - then slowly putting himself and his rider back into motion again for about 100 feet of trudging before he stops again to 'bark' and deep-rumble once more. What little he can squint out between wind and flakes of driving snow shows him the cliff face *seems* to be nearer. Can she hear and 'feel' his voice better, yet? Now the bronze's mental winds carry a warmth. It may be cold out, by Liesanth's wallow is pleasantly warm, and he shares that warmth with his friend in what manner he can, perhaps almost instinctively trying to ease her shivering. His rider, after all, was originally an Apprentice Healer, and then trained as a dragonhealer at the weyr. (To Solith from Liesanth) Solith might be grateful, if only she knew. Only, « I can tell her this, » and probably has, « but she... » is stubborn? That's one word for Telavi. At least she's shivering a little less now, whatever the cause. « If it is not found, it will be lost forever. Also, we could see much better before, » before Ilicaeth landed. Solith's quietly appreciative, not so much immediately-- that's more of a gradual untensing-- but when she realizes. Of course, she only gets to commune for a little while, thanks to more excitement in the Land of Cold... but she'll spare the other dragon that! (To Liesanth from Solith) Shells; he *knows* about stubborn human lifemates. « Tell 'er Alida says ta give it up fer now. » If Tela's so attached to this damned hat, she can either buy or make another one. A hat is replaceable. « The storm is gettin' worse... » Ilicaeth admits dourly, continuing his trudge, stop-and-sound off, repeat motions through the blizzard. There's a quick glimpse of some kind of rock face nearby after some protracted moments of walking, plus that similar odd lessening of cold...which brings with it a sudden shift in the terrain beneath feet...and Alida's just as sudden yell as she slips and goes down on her ass on snow-covered ice. "Fuck!" « She says she's not going to, » Solith reports on a sigh. Except, just for Ilicaeth, « She will, she only does not want to be told to, and she does not like it. » But it is getting white. Telavi's even about to. Only then there's that yell. Hasty, worried, « Is she all right?! » She heard that! Yep; Ilicaeth knows about lifemates not liking to be told what to do, too. « Good... » the blue rasps dryly, feeling some relief...until Alida flops on her ass. His yellow eyes spin up instantly to distress, then slow soon enough when his rider carefully picks her rump off the ground, grumbling to herself beneath her scarf. « She's fine; fell on the ice. You heard her! » A few moments to listen to his lifemate leaves the blue scraping off to Solith, « She thinks we're nearer some entrance, since the ground's part icy, instead uv' snowy. We're gonna keep on heading the way we are. Is 'er voice clear? » Again, swirled around by snow, wind, rock, comes a voice, though this time it's a nearly-drowned out human call of "-ELA!" « I heard her! » Solith is relieved to confirm, which handily includes relief for her being fine, which increases all the more since the blue has a plan. But then it wavers, because, « Not really? Clear? » After a moment, tentatively because it may not mesh with that plan, « She could come to our entrance. It is right here, » not right there but right where Solith knows it to be. Except, Solith has started to move, shielding her grumpy rider from the worst of the wind as Telavi trudges. Without her hat. Sigh. If Solith and Telavi follow the blue pair... it's not to the living cavern, but the Hatching Ground entrance instead, so off-course were they in the white-out/storm. Still, heat is much appreciated by this point, and Ilicaeth drapes his cooling self upon the steamy sands - perhaps with Solith nearby - while the chilled Alida likely gives her clutchsib a quiet earful of how lucky she is there are no weyrlings around to see the greenrider doing something dumb...like purposely going out into horrible weather for a bauble. |
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