Logs:What Dwells Beneath
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| RL Date: 31 October, 2008 |
| Who: K'del, Rascela |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Cadejoth and Uanth explore the frozen lake, while Rascela attempts to remain an enigma despite K'del's best efforts. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 8, Month 1, Turn 18 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: P'ax/Mentions |
| Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs. The sun is high in the sky, which is relatively clear, though there's little warmth despite this - the air is chill, the snow thick on the ground. Lectures have finished for the day, for the weyrlings, and they have dispersed accordingly, some to the barracks for catch-up sleep, some to various recreational activities, and some out here to the lake. K'del and Cadejoth are part of this last group, though at present they wander apart from the others, the bronze in rapid motion darting to the water's edge, then back to K'del, then back to the frozen edge once more. Plodding along in his characteristically ungainly fashion is Uanth, who stops frequently to examine this heap of snow or peer at that patch of ice. Rascela trudges alongside him, hands shoved in her jacket pockets and head tilted slightly down. When he stops, she does; when he goes, she goes. And when his gaze goes to the water's edge, hers is snagged on the darting form of the bronze. An eyebrow lifts, oh-so-slowly, as her attention shifts to K'del. "Hnh." At a slight prodding from the brown -- as much mental as it is a physical thing -- her voice lifts audibly. "Hey." K'del has come to a halt near one of the big boulders, his gloved hand reaching down to touch the stone, and he turns in honest surprise at Rascela's greeting, his face emphasising his surprise, though it quickly curves into a more affable smile. "Hey, Rascela. Likes the snow and ice, too, huh?" His head inclines towards Uanth, then towards Cadejoth, who is poking his large paw at the ice, and apparently delighting in the way it slides. "Reckon so," Raz replies, nose scrunching up when the brown nudges her again. The normally taciturn young woman lifts her shoulders and drops them, adding, "Seems t'like most everythin', actually." After a sidelong look to her lifemate, she gives a single, side-to-side shake of her head. "Jays, go on a'ready, if that's what you're wantin'," is grumbled to Uanth, who lopes a little closer to Cadejoth. He doesn't participate in the ice-poking -- no, he'll just stare at the ice, instead. See? Stare. K'del has to grin at that, his face lighting as he's given an opening to say, "Cadejoth, too. At least - most things. He likes life. Hates sitting around doing nothing. Works for me." His gaze follows Uanth to Cadejoth, whose tail taps against the hard-packed snow as he paws the ice again, as he rumbles soft and low to the other dragon. "That lecture this morning was pretty boring. That etiquette stuff. Looking forward to - well, not so much the dragonhealing. But getting to be out and about while doing it, I guess." Dragon> Clink, clank, clunk, and then the lighter tinkle of the finest of chain links, marks Cadejoth's mental nudge, breathless and warm - and just faintly metallic. « Hello, Uanth, » he says, warmly. « Do you think we could *skate* on the ice, the way they do? It /seems/ pretty sturdy. » (Cadejoth to Uanth) Dragon> Blue mist surfaces, filled with the soft humming of insect wings and funny, fey things that dip and dart between chain links that are abruptly given form. Leaves rustle, Uanth's voice coming as deep and curiously accented, a slight lisp touching his words, « Greetings, Cadejoth. » Skate on the ice? The concept is pondered heavily, then: « I am sure the ice on the lake will protect us from harm, as long as we do not break it and awaken whatever dwells beneath. » (Uanth to Cadejoth) A soft grunt follows his words, a slight nod being given. Raz folds her arms over her chest and a long pause follows before she replies, "He's always lookin' for stories in things." No, she doesn't get it, either, and a shake of her head follows. "Enh. Etiquette c'n be stuffed; it'll be good t'do anythin' but Harperin' lessons." she decides, gray eyes flicking briefly to K'del, then back to Uanth. The brown cocks his head to a side, then settles on the ground right at the edge, placing a single forepaw lightly on the ice. K'del pulls his wool cap off his head with an ungainly hand, nodding. "I'd no idea that they--" he breaks off, to grin. "Had such lives of their own, I guess. I'm looking forward to /real/ lessons. When we get to ride them. Fly. Know most of the written stuff, anyway - got good Harper lessons as a kid. So." He holds the cap between his fingers, more, apparently, for something to do with his hands than anything else, his own gaze sliding back towards the dragons. "Heard we're supposed to be making clay models of our dragons. That could be weird." Not 'fun'. That would be too childish. Cadejoth, meanwhile, puts a second paw onto the ice, experimentally. Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth seems delighted by these little fey things, shaking his chains experimentally to see how it all works together, the soft clink growing steadily more insistent with his excitement. « What dwells beneath? What is it, that dwells beneath, Uanth? Would it bite? » This doesn't seem to have dimmed his curiosity - he /leans/ in to the idea, paws reaching out further, head tilting ahead to examine. Rascela remains as she is, an unmoving pillar of a young woman, really. There's a slow nod at his words, some inarticulate noise indicating assent. Her mouth twitches briefly to a side when she remarks, "He wants me t'write all the Harper stuff down. Says there's gotta be truth t'some of the stories they tell the kids, yanno?" She snorts, mildly disbelieving at herself for saying as much. "Clay models," is both query and statement, both rather incredulous, if understated. "Hnh. Any clue why?" She's watching Uanth, too, though she keeps K'del right there in her peripheral vision. "Really?" K'del sounds incredulous, then shakes his head, marvelling at the idea. "Cadejoth's not really interested in that. He wants to do things, not hear about them. Hates when I'm in class. Hates when I'm out eating, too. Happy to leave me on his own, though." Like now, the bronze inching forward a little more, tail wagging like a dog. "Getting a better idea of what their shape is like, maybe? So we know if something is wrong. Silly to do it now, though. Cadejoth's going to fill out, and look completely different." For the moment, Cadejoth is as gaunt as when he hatched, however. Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth loops a bit of a vine into the chain, twisting around and through it, while the fey things -- like insects, really, but with oddly human aspects -- dance and flutter upon them. At the bronze's curiosity, Uanth's voice lowers to a grating whisper, though a pleasant one, « They say that under the lake, there is a terrible beast, a beast so awful that it cannot be described. » Shadowy shapes flicker and dance in the mist, the fey things chittering in horror. « It eats anything that it can get its claws on. But, » he assures, « we will be safe if we do not break the ice and rouse it from its slumber. » Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth plays with the little creatures, and with the vine, twisting and twining things together to create intricate patterns, pieces of natural and human made art, yet dragon-made, too, as surely as anything ever was. « Truly? » he wants to know, his own voice lowering, awe and excited fear ringing through chained art, anticipation making the whole thing jangle madly. « I am big. I wouldn't let it get me, even if we did break the ice. But we won't. We'll be careful. » "Yeah. He's an odd duck," is all Raz can charitably say of her lifemate and his habits. "But, he hates movin'. He ain't graceful at all. And, yeah, he hates when I'm away too far or too long; makes his skin crawl, he says, not knowin' where I am, even if he does." She flicks a 'please tell me that makes sense' look at K'del, then it's back to dragon-watching. A grunt and nod is all that suffices for comment on the latter. Uanth is easing his weight onto the ice, wings opening so slowly it's a wonder they don't creak. Dragon> And, abruptly, the chain is grabbed and yanked /tight/, the creatures squalling in terror and vanishing into the mist. Narrow slits of eyes emerge in the darkness at the pulled end of the chain, a low howl of wind arising and setting the shared mental scape to ripple like so much water. And there's Uanth, intoning, « Truly. So, we must be especially careful, lest it snatch us both up. » There's a pause, oh-so-brief, then, « You must go first. » (Uanth to Cadejoth) "I think they all are. I mean... have you /seen/ Yyth eat?" There's a note of derisiveness to K'del's voice as he says this, but then, the competitiveness between him and P'ax is well known. "Think Cadejoth just hates to not be involved. Why should I do things he can't, and that." His head bobs: yeah, he gets it. Dragons. What can you do. By this point, Cadejoth is most of the way onto the ice, his tail still on dry ground, his hindlimbs very close to leaving it behind. He warbles, clearly delighted. Dragon> His chain yanked, Cadejoth lets out a little squeak - and then a ferocious (attempted ferocious, that is) roar, as the clattering of chain and dry bones and sharp heat mark his presence. He's obviously a little unsettled, but fights past it to howl at the darkness, and stand tall. « I wouldn't want to be snatched up. I don't think that would be nice /at all/. » Shudder. « I will be brave. Of course. » (Cadejoth to Uanth) A nod to confirm that she has, though it scarcely registers more than a faint crinkle of her nose. Rascela shifts her arms a little, her stance altering a little to be more comfortable. "Hnh. Figure they'll ... get over it. The need t'be in everythin' we're doin', that is. They'll get things of their own t'do." Though, she doesn't exactly sound too confident on that. Uanth slowly rises, his movements deliberate as he prepares to follow Cadejoth. Not /yet/, but ... soon. Yes. "Reckon so," agrees K'del, easily, his smile reaching his eyes. "When they're older, and have more freedom of their own. Speaking of--" he breaks off, giving Cadejoth, and thus Uanth, a perplexed glance. "What /are/ they doing? For a moment-- Cadejoth was honestly terrified. And then-- /now/ he's all... brave." He takes half a step forward, just at the same moment as Cadejoth finally launches himself onto the ice, and goes sliding across it, despite his size. He lets out a noise that starts off like a squeak, and ends up like a roar of triumph. K'del just blinks. Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth observes that, « It would be most unpleasant, but I will spare you the stories of what it does to dragons that are caught. But, we should be safe. » He has faith in his clutchbrother, that much is clear, but he does not interject to help pull the chain, instead taking the role of passive observer in the conflict. The roaring is what does it, that heat and rattling of bones serving well to drive that unseen thing back with a bellow of its own, a watery thing that resonates and echoes, forcing it to release its hold on the chain. For now. One of the fluttering things returns, chittering chastisingly into the darkness. "Shells if I know," Raz succinctly and oh-so-helpfully replies, forehead furrowing deeply as she watches the two. "Sharding brown's prob'ly stirring up trouble again." That's always the answer. Uanth watches Cadejoth leap out there, a low rumble of pleasure being emitted for the display ... and then he, too, proceeds out there, though much more sedately and with his awkward grace on full display. Wings out, tail stiffly held, and digits wriggling oddly when each paw is lifted. Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth, now freed, coils back his chain, which chinks and clinks back into place more securely, now, kept close - there'll be no more near misses like that again, nosiree. He is the antithesis of water, a creature of the earth, but his curiosity leads him onwards all the same. « You should tell me, later. When we are not so close. You might... give it /Ideas/. » He's on the ice now, a puff of cold air matching his warmth, sliding - gleeful, and wary, and then more gleeful again. Freedom! « It is safe. Come, join me. It is fun! » "Weirdo," says K'del of Cadejoth, though there is nothing but fondness - and complete adoration - in his tone as he does so. "If he is, it's only because Cadejoth's egging him on." He stops moving, having apparently determined that the dragons are relatively safe, though he does add, "If he breaks the ice, I am /so/ going to--" Something. Cadejoth pushes himself off with his legs again, sliding freely, and letting out another rumble of delight. Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth's mindscape shifts again, settling into a far more comfortable forest with fantastical trees and that everpresent mist. Amusement is in the rustle of leaves and the soft creak of branches, even as the brown replies, « Later, yes. » Pleased. At Cadejoth's latter words, he seems to laugh, wordless reassurance given that he will follow. "Ain't they all?" is likewise amused, though Rascela just shakes her head. "Enh. It don't take much. Uanth'll tell anyone a story if they give him a chance. He's always doin' that t'me, right before bed." But the idea of being told a bedtime story is somehow disconcerting and she frowns, stopping rather abruptly there and acknowledging his words only with a sidelong look. Uanth continues his careful approach, slinking his way along in fits and starts. He might look uncomfortable, but he rumbles back to Cadejoth with satisfaction. Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth is bone and rock and desert, the latter of which he has ever seen, but the sense of it remains there, the dry heat and the rasp of his touch, and the perpetual clinking of chains. « This, » he tells Uanth, with a whisper-thin bite of cold, there, and then gone within an instant, « is glorious! So freeing. This must be what flying is really like. » K'del puts his hat back on, without really seeming to pay much attention to it, his breath visible in the chill air as he breathes out lightly. "Frightening pair, then. Uanth telling stories, and Cadejoth trying them all out. He usually collapses, dead asleep, mere moments after saying he wasn't tired at all. First night, he slept on the floor in the barracks - did you see that? Usually manage to get him to his couch, now." He doesn't seem to react to the idea of a bednight story, passing over that without another thought, his silence companionable as he stares back at his energetic lifemate, now attempting to spin in a circle. He doesn't seem to care what he looks like, his rumble one of pure delight. Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth is all sorts of things -- forest for now, but given time, perhaps a mountain or an ocean or even some vast lake of fire -- as any good storyteller ought to be. « Is it? » is musing from the rasping, lisping brown. The creatures return, stirred by a gentle gust of wind. « It would be wonderful to be like that. On the wing, in the clouds -- I tell my Lady, » Raz, of course, as seen through his eyes, « that there is a Weyr in the sky and, someday, we will see it. » A sharp exhalation of breath is naught but an exasperated sigh that she doesn't permit to linger. "They'd best not get in too much trouble together," she mutters ominously. Rascela squints at the pair -- Uanth is now attempting a much slower spin on the ice, using his wings to keep his balance -- then over to K'del. "Yeah, I saw that. Took forever t'get Uanth to hush up and just sleep. I think I was out before he was, him wantin' to see to me first." Or something like that, at any rate. "He don't seem to sleep as much as he oughtta." Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth, with a rattle of bones and a waft of something metallic, something you could almost taste at the back of your tongue, attempts to float upwards, projecting himself aloft, his great wings beating, his peculiar proportions somehow smoothed out - this is, you see, the /adult/ him. « A Weyr in the sky? I should like to see that. K'del says that this weyr is plenty for us, but... I think he would like to fly. » "No kidding. I mean, sure, they're kids, but... we're not. And I'daur'd punish us like we were, I bet." Without seeming to notice it, K'del mimics Rascela's squint, leaning forward just slightly to get a better look, then shaking his head. "That's sweet. Looking out for you like that. But - he doesn't? Cadejoth wears himself out so much, he sleeps really easily. It's good, gives me time to do quiet things, sometimes. Write letters and such. He's pretty full on sometimes." Dragon> There is a certainty in Uanth's voice, his mindscape redolent with /possibilities/. « Of course. There must be something up above them -- a Weyr in the clouds, forever lit by starlight. » And, soon enough, he's joining Cadejoth in that shared 'scape, moving with an ease that is testament to his imagination. « If we are lucky, then we will all see it. But, first, we must learn to fly -- I do not think my Lady is looking forward to it, but we must. » (Uanth to Cadejoth) Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth luxuriates in the starlight, the glow of the moons, the whisper-thin clouds and deep blue of the sky. He /relishes/ the sensation, never still, never quite, so constantly /there/ and /doing/ and /trying/. < We shall visit it. We shall. Why is she not looking forward to it? » Unspoken, but shared: K'del cannot wait. K'del /dreams/ of flight. "Exactly." She finally unfolds her arms, but only to plow calloused fingers through her short hair, fingers finally linking behind the back of her head. A few steps forward are taken, Rascela watching the goings on with interest, even if that interest isn't conveyed. "Yeah, he's- I dunno. Some nights, he says he wants t'make sure nothin' happens to me before I sleep; others, he'll go on 'bout how his best stories come to him when everyone else is sleepin' and things get ready t'go bump in the night." And she stops, frowning at her own verbosity. Cadejoth pads back towards the shore, not to leave the ice, but to rumble towards K'del, showing off. "I see, I see," murmurs his rider, shaking his head fondly. "He believes all of that, too, I bet. The things that go bump. He sounds-- " he's grinning, as he says, "Fascinating." Head tilting slightly, his gaze catching so clearly her frown, he adds, "You /are/ allowed to talk, you know. We - well, /I/ - barely know you. But we're clutchmates. We should be - if not friends, then /know each other/." Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth is serene in the skies, basking blissfully in the place between the clouds and the heavens themselves. Pale wings tilt, starlight spilling across the markings and briefly illuminate them. « She is a thing of the earth, » he explains, « not a thing of the air as we are. She will love it, but for now, she has not yet- » and here, he settles on a visual, a cloud-vine forming and then blossoming out into a slew of butterflies. "Yeah, he is. Silly git." Affectionate, that. "Ain't sure why he picked me, though," is blurted much to her chagrin, and Raz shakes her head, annoyed. Back to the arms-folded-over-chest routine, then. "Ain't much for y'all t'need t'know," is her assessment, chin jerking toward Uanth, who is still making slow circles on the ice -- or, rather, spirals, if one were to look closely at his deliberate movements. "'sides," she finally adds, "he's chatty enough for the two of us." Snort. Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth lets out a little breath of understanding, reaching out with a vapor-thin 'hand' to seek the butterflies, and then dissipate, flying with them, then dissolving into nothing again. « But she will, » he intones, confident. His mind-form, the fully drown beautifully proportioned Cadejoth, soars and dives, images no doubt picked up from watching others in the sky. « How could she not? » "The dragons always know," intones K'del, expression affectionate for his own dragon; he adds, "I knew Cadejoth was mine, though. He's strange, sometimes, but he's /mine/." Pride. Like he stands just a little taller, bolder, handsomer, thanks to the bronze. "Not really about /needing/ to know. About /wanting/ to know. I like people. Like talking to them, getting to know them. You," he tells her, looking at her square on, "are the only girl who won't open up a bit. I can't chat to him, anyway." Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth has his theories, of course, but those go unarticulated; instead, the butterflies scatter and join them, wings made of stars and gleaming bodies all aglow. He is far from graceful, but equally far from the ungainly thing he is in the flesh, a peculiar nimbleness setting him to spin on a wingtip and dive straight for a clump of clouds to plow through them and stream cloud-stuff from his wingtips. « She will. I will show her the way and she will learn and grow. » And, in this, he is as confident as Cadejoth. "I just knew I wouldn't regret Standing," is perhaps the only admission of its sort that she's made to anyone, but Rascela shrugs it off, sparing the bronze weyrling a brief look askance for his words. But, when he looks to her square on, she matches it, with one eyebrow creeping slowly upward. "It bothers you," is flatly observed, mouth wryly distorting. Then, it flattens, and she remarks, "But, like I said, ain't much t'know." And, for now, she seems quite content with that. "I'm sure yours will hear enough from mine t'pass 'long, anyway." K'del accepts this easily enough, noting, "I'd never even thought of Standing, until L'vae asked. That's when all the pieces fell into place, and I knew." His complete and utter confidence is perhaps his most obvious feature, ignoring his height: he wears it wrapped about him without flaw. "Does, yeah. Like knowing things. Hate /not/ knowing. Would I be able to trust anything Uanth said to Cadejoth, anyway? Does he exaggerate about you, too?" Dragon> There is /joy/, indescribable joy, to Cadejoth's presence in this mind-sky. « So will K'del. Differently. But he will. He is so-- » He breaks off, instead projecting his thoughts on the subject: so perfect, so unique, so utterly certain and everything a dragon could ever want in a rider. He is head over heels. (Cadejoth to Uanth) And she nods, sharing the sentiment in wordless fashion. Rascela /is/ confident, but in a far more muted way; quietly certain rather than brazenly so. A soft noise escapes her, something between a snort and a laugh and then a flat, "You c'n trust him until he gets to that sharding Lady nonsense. Then he's so full of it that I gotta ask if he needs a purgative." But that seems more embarrassing -- the Lady business, not so much the latter -- than anything else and she scuffs a boot irritably and kicks a rock toward the shore. "Ask what y'wanna, but it don't mean I'll answer." Dragon> Exulting in the feel of imagined clouds on hide, Uanth twists back up, piercing the clouds again and nudging tendrils of cloudstuff into improbable shapes. « He is Yours, » and the way the word is emphasized, caressed, wheedled into shape says it all. « As my Lady is Mine, » and again, only with a deeply possessive quality, a feel of wings folding 'round something precious, protecting from the dark things that lurk on the outside. His. Imperfect as she is, she is his and he will help her, shape her. (Uanth to Cadejoth) K'del's eyes light, expression so intent it's as if he might burst, clearly about to ask one of these burning questions. Then, before he can open his mouth, his hand goes to his stomach, and he /winces/. "Damn it, Cadejoth," he mutters. "Could've eaten /before/ we came out. We," he tells Rascela, clearly disappointed, "Need to go in. Before I collapse - he'll keep running around until he does, unfortunately. But: another time. I /will/ get it all out of you." Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth caresses this idea of 'his', his own, his precious, accepting and understanding the sentiment of the other dragon with clear comprehension. « Yes, precisely, » he allows, though something trembles within him - there's a momentary pause, then he shrugs it off, ignoring whatever-it-was coolly. But: then, sadly, « K'del says we must go in. He says I must eat. I'd rather play. We'll fly again, though. Us. All of us. » "You c'n try all you want," is the only promise she'll make on the subject, broad shoulders rising, holding, and then falling in a shrug. Stubborn. "Later," is intoned with a cursory nod, Rascela leaving K'del behind while she heads closer to shore, where Uanth's latest series of spirals has landed him nearly upon the ground. Farewell given, he's summarily placed out of sight and out of mind, with all eyes on Uanth for now. Dragon> To Cadejoth, Uanth encases the concept of 'his' in a bubble, holding it fast before absorbing it. The skyscape soon begins to erode at the revelation that one must part and Uanth spills air from his wings to descend in a tight spiral for the ground. « Eat. Eat and later we can fly and I can tell you yet more stories about the sky and the water. » "I won't just try," K'del promises, as Cadejoth scampers back towards him, and the pair make for the barracks again. "I never just try." But she has interests elsewhere, and /he/ has an aching belly that's really all Cdaejoth's, so he shoos the dragon ahead of him, and trudges away through the snow. "Weird girl," he concludes, to himself, under his breath. Dragon> To Uanth, Cadejoth projects, « I should like that very much, » sounding disappointed at having to leave, at having to put off those stories, and this flying - and the ice, and /everything/. Food is boring. « Until then! » You head to the bowl. |
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