Logs:Where Home Is
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| RL Date: 17 March, 2015 |
| Who: Olveraeth, Rasavyth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A brief conversation between (former) teacher and (former) student. |
| Where: High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 4, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
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| To Olveraeth, Rasavyth spends a lot of time around the weyrling barracks. Not necessarily in it, but near it in the bowl is his preferred place when he's in the bowl at all, which is more often than it once was. Tonight, he arrives with purpose and ducks into the cavern as if he belonged there; maybe he does? His mind wanders to his blue teacher. Teacher who was, teacher who is, teacher who perhaps always will be. « He's trying to help me, » the bronze abruptly confides without preamble. « I like to think there's nothing he needs to help me with. But he's trying anyway. » Rasavyth doesn't like being wrong, but there is the possibility allowed now that he could be. With Niahvth's eggs soon to hit the hatching grounds - any day now, rumour has it - Olveraeth and his rider have been spending more time in the barracks; their vacation is officially at an end. Tonight, Quinlys is indoors somewhere, preparing away, and her blue is lingering out doors, enjoying the early spring chill. « There is always help to be had, » he says in answer, with a swirl of stardust. « When we have ears to hear it. Does it help him, to help you? » (To Rasavyth from Olveraeth) To Olveraeth, Rasavyth considers. His first words, still in the familiar tenor, though perhaps a less confident version thereof, are tangential. « This place helps me. I think more clearly here. Maybe we all do. This place where we first were ourselves. » Whatever that means. « It frustrates him when things don't work. I can sort it alone. I can. » He must be able to, he always could before. « It is a place of safety, » is Olveraeth's opinion. « We all choose to return to where we came from. » Not, in this case, the hatching sands-- although there is a sense of that-- but yes, the barracks. Home. « There are few things in life best done alone, » he adds, and if there's a spark of something, there, well-- there's another green rising. He's watching; he's not chasing. Not this one. « We are, after all, meant to be partners. » (To Rasavyth from Olveraeth) To Olveraeth, Rasavyth mulls the sentiments over, barely flicking a single shred of his attention toward the green. All his effort to focus is currently spent on the blue. « You're not wrong, » he'll allow of the first and last together. His tenor colors with concern as he says, « What of those who must away to Igen when it is done? Will they come home? » He wonders. To Rasavyth, Olvaeraeth's thoughts darken, at mention of the Igenite few - the Igenite Chosen - though he's more sanguine than his rider about the topic. « They will always have a place, here, » he answers, simply. « We shall not forget them. » 'Forget' is not, perhaps, the perfect word; he's well aware of his own memory. Still. « I am home wherever Quinlys is. We ride for High Reaches, but we would find elsewhere, if it came to that. » To Olveraeth, Rasavyth is quiet some moments. « K'zin is home, » he agrees, « but nowhere else I've been feels quite like 'Reaches. » That doesn't mean he couldn't make it home, but nothing replaces here. « I will think on it. » The Igen situation. It may amount to nothing, but K'zin would probably feel, as can be sensed, that Rasavyth investing himself in a situation close to home can only be good. « Goodnight, Olveraeth. » And he's gone, launching cleanly up to move toward his own ledge, feeling more grounded and now tired. A stream of stars follow Rasavyth up towards his ledge; it's not a mother's touch, not a father's pat on the head, just... a teacher's fondness, perhaps. Acknowledgement. (To Rasavyth from Olveraeth) |
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