Logs:Trust Me
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| RL Date: 24 September, 2011 |
| Who: Iolene, E'gin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Iolene is on time for morning exercises and drills and everything and E'gin surprises her. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 11, Turn 26 (Interval 10) |
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| The last few days have seen Io missing morning drills, avoiding the erstwhile wingleader among the many others and generally shirking in her duties. The fact that she even slept in her own bed last night is an accomplishment it would seem, but there she is, curled against Ysavaeth's side in the gold's not-so-little-anymore floor wallow, reading. All she'd need is a pair of glasses to complete this look of studious effort. Despite the fact that E'gin should probably be grabbing breakfast after morning drills he is striding back into the barracks with charts tucked under his arm. It is a table in the corner of the, apparently empty, barracks that E'gin is aiming, but the more observant Vysravth notices the goldpairing. Wifting through the muggy air of his mind voice is the sweet pugent smell of rust. «Good morning, Ysavaeth.» The weyrling wingleader pauses, his head turning towards the pair, and his stride soon following. Coming up on the pair he pauses at their wallow. "Hey, Io." Only half of his face pulls up in a grin, but there is a tinge of laughter in his voice. "How's it going?" There's a long measure of silence whe Vysravth greets her, and it almost seems likely she might ignore him when a cool, « Good morning, oh wingleader's dragon, » is returned. "Huh." Io's eyes cast up quickly, pairing voice with approaching face; an approaching face that's half-grinning, possibly laughing. An approaching face that's /E'gin/ and a noticeable twitch tics her expression, settling into uncertain welcome. Behind her, Ysavaeth shifts, not so subtly, arranging her limbs and tail about Iolene a little more protectively. "I'm- I'm doing good. /We're/ doing good." Never mind her hopeless grammar, there is at least a quick smile that accompanies those reassurances. « For a couple of weeks anyway. » The response from Vysravth lacks any acknowledgement of sarcasm. The brown watches silently as she curls around her weyrling, « Do you think we'd hurt her? » E'gin's hands are shoved into his pants pockets, as his grin grows, "I'm glad you're doing okay...You've been skipping drills, not just my extra ones I'm guessing." His head lolls to oneside and he leans his shoulder against the wall of the barracks. "You at least getting to fly around? I know they aren't giving you the training they should." The tone is soft, lacking rebuke, simply a concerned voiced. Climbing up along Ysavaeth's length, Iolene steadies herself against the larger frame of her protective dragon, a free hand coming to splay its fingers against the warm hide. The smile she's forced through falters, and again uncertainty reigns in her dark blue eyes until finally the question she wants to ask just falls out, "You're not mad? I thought you'd be mad." Silence, a rarity in the barracks, hangs in the air as E'gin watches Iolene get up. Jaw sets as he considers his answer, "Well, it sucks." He concedes with a slight lift oh is brow. The confession is softened with a joke, "After all, you and Ysavaeth will be able to order people around for the rest of your lives..." He trails off letting a grin slip across his face, "But.." he raises a finger, with the lift and drop of a shoulder, his hands still in his pockets, "If they treated me like you I'm not sure I'd go either...but try and remember that /I/ didn't do that to you, and I'd be willing to teach you what we're learning if you want." His voice drops to a whisper even though they are alone. "You're not mad." It's a statement of wonderment, as if her whole world view has suddenly collapsed in on itself. Iolene shifts from foot to foot, considering this bit of knowledge quietly as she looks down at her feet and the curled tail so close by. A bare toe nudges at the very tip of Ysavaeth, wiggling against the dainty tail. "I would never do that. I wouldn't even know how to. I mean, order people around for the rest of my life." Her protest doesn't include the dragon behind her, though it's unclear whether that omission is a deliberate one. "I wouldn't. You believe me, right, Elg? Who would even listen to me?" Little tomboy Iolene who chased after the older kids to play with her. E'gin shakes his head, confirming her statement, his head leans across the wall his simple grin non moving, "Maybe not like me, maybe, never overly exerting force." An acknowledgement of what he is doing? "But even that may have a place...But you could, you could do it well. A little confidence which can only come from the two of you, and a little training - which can come from me, and you'd be set." He pauses, lifting his head up, his lips falling into a sad smile, "I would, Io." He starts to walk back towards his original destination, he stops and turns back around, "Think about trusting me." A finger is pointed toward the training caverns, then he's off. Iolene turns scarlet at what she can only construe as compliments, an unexpected gem in the middle of her flagrant, if unintentional, disobedience. But she can't speak, as she continues to try and digest what he's told her, what he's offering, and when he moves to leave? She doesn't protest, merely staring at the spot where the brownridign weyrling exited. "Ysa?" And whatever is shared between the pair is off the record, but leaves a considering look in the lanky rider's eyes; a look that strays back to where E'gin used to stand. |
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