Logs:Wing Tours
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| RL Date: 20 October, 2013 |
| Who: H'kon, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: K'del joins Alpine for drills; afterwards, he and H'kon actually talk. Cadejoth an Arekoth compete over nothing. |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 1, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Y'rel/Mentions, Z'ian/Mentions |
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| Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr The bowl's vast dirt floor extends in a rough oval from west to east, only sparse clumps of grass surviving between the crisscrossed pathways of daily traffic. To the northwest stand massive gates to the world beyond, allowing people, livestock, and tithes to pass beneath some of the seven jagged spires that stand sentinel over that area of the bowl. In late afternoons, their spindly, fingerlike shadows stretch over that end of the bowl all the way to the living cavern's hulking brass doors in the far north. Eastward, the bowl sprawls on toward the lake, sloping slightly downward to allow runoff from rain and snowmelt, but to the south it's caged by more cliffs of dark, rough-cut granite. Rocks poke up from the ground here, a few large boulders and many smaller outcroppings worn smooth in spots by time and use. A few ground weyr entrances dot the wall, the most frequented ledge set up like a patio while the largest ledge services the Weyrleaders' complex, directly beside the huge entrance to the hatching sands. A more human-sized entrance, left of that, leads to the galleries. Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor. The trail left by Arekoth - after the wing has landed, after some have started to disperse, after he's leapt airborne again just to send himself careening across the bowl in the wet snow - is a long one. It's that trail H'kon follows now, in reverse, while his dragon makes a point of staying in the pile of snow he's driven up, making eyes at a certain green who seems to think this is an excellent idea, but is not entirely willing to participate, not yet. H'kon's eyes are far less playful. And on K'del. Part of 'Operation Be A Better Weyrleader This Time' involves getting to know the wings again, and so K'del has been attending drills here and there - Hailstorm last seven, and today, Alpine. In K'del and Cadejoth's combined defense, it's difficult to step into another wing's drills, but they certainly haven't had a stellar afternoon of it. Now, Cadejoth shakes snow out of his wings and hops aloft again, gliding low, but above Arekoth. « What are you doing? » he wonders, with a dog-like, airborne shake. K'del, rolling his shoulders, turns... and there's H'kon. He raises his eyebrows: well? Y'rel's been looking forward to showing off his wing's precision... and is currently, after a ruined finale, busy discussing attention to the cues of others with a spiky young bronzerider and his imperturbable dragon. While that staring contest goes on, there's still this one over here. H'kon, who has to step over a snowbank created by an eastbound Arekoth (not an easy thing when your legs are this short), finally settles before K'del. "Some time since we've flown together." And Arekoth looks up at Cadejoth, cranes his neck, because how should a dragon like Cadejoth be above a dragon like Arekoth? Especially under the watch of that green? « Etching. » Droll. "It has been," agrees K'del, levelly, still regarding H'kon in a way that suggests he's studying for cues... or is that clues. "It's nearly three turns since I flew with Avalanche." Reference to that anniversary gives the bronzerider pause, but aside from a hasty exhale, breath visible in the chill air, he doesn't seem to linger upon the momentousness. "And how does Alpine suit you? Y'rel seems--" His head turns, glancing after the Wingleader for a moment. He doesn't finish the statement. « I see, » says Cadejoth, dumping some of the snow from his wings down below, and if some of it hits Arekoth? Well. Well. "I... appreciate Y'rel's attention to detail." No doubt the same could be said by the bronzerider of his new brownriding addition. If he weren't busy trying to crush get past an ego. « Preparing, » adds Arekoth, only after he's tilted his head to dump snow, and blinked back up, ominously. H'kon gives a quick nod, as if to accent something long past said. "I have wondered if your return to the position fits well." Brows knitting, K'del considers H'kon's answer, rather as though he's debating whether to take it at face value, or probe further. He evidently decides on the former, if that is, indeed, what he was debating, because his expression clears again as the brownrider continues. "It feels..." he considers. "Like coming home, and also like somehow ending up in a foreign land: completely new." « For? » Cadejoth wonders, beating his wings a couple of times to give himself some more height - though he's not going far. H'kon nods again, this time simple acceptance of an answer, acknowledgement while he chews the words over. "It is a different situation," he decides at length, and not very descriptively. « Retaliation, » Arekoth answers, his own wings shifting on his back, though not yet aiming for sky. "It is," K'del agrees. "Z'ian was - rightly - popular, and his... it shouldn't have happened like this." He shoves his hands into his pockets, lifts and then drops his shoulders. "All I can do is... do the best I can. Learn from past mistakes. Keep things running until someone is confirmed." « I'll still win, » declares Cadejoth, unbothered by Arekoth's so-called threat. « I'm bigger. » And older. And just better. Nonetheless, he adds a little more altitude to his glide. "There is no way to go but forward," H'kon says, more softly, and the way one walking through a tunnel leading to a gallows might utter it. But that could just be H'kon being H'kon, and nothing more. "Do you have plans for the wings, once this tour of yours is at an end?" « Yeah, and you've won so many lately. » Maybe he's using H'kon's memories to back that up. Maybe it's not that far-reaching a taunt. K'del opens his mouth, and then evidently thinks better of whatever it was he was going to say, and licks his chapped lips instead. "Nothing major," he tells H'kon, then. "Not my intention to shake things up, or make changes just because I can. Mostly, I just want to get a feel for what everyone's doing, so I can see how things fit together." Beat. "Should I have plans, do you think?" Despite the question, he doesn't really seem to be anticipating an answer. « Have you? » counters Cadejoth, unbothered by what is very likely the truth. When did he last win anything? « Yes. » Arekoth sits up a bit higher, leaving his snowbanks behind, a pillar in their midst. That's right. Winner. H'kon's brow grows heavy, and he takes a good moment on the question, rhetorical though it may be. But H'kon has grown, and words come - slow and cautious, but they come. "I should not think it would be amiss to have some sort of joint venture. Even activity." « And what have you won? » Cadejoth doubts. And rattles his chains down at the brown, drawing himself into a more enthusiastic, energetic flight path. Higher. Impressively. The answer surprises K'del - or perhaps it's just that he got an answer, rather than what it actually entails. It leaves him silent for several seconds as he considers. "Like... weyr games, or something? Not mock threadfall over the Holds, presumably." "Hm." H'kon crosses his arms over his chest, and contemplates his feet for a moment. Truly contemplates. "Best, yes, to distance from that. Games... there would be something at stake, at least." When he looks up, green eyes are deep and sober. "It is unfortunate, when Threadfall is an empty thing for dragonriders." « Greens. Bets. Races. » The brown stretches his wings. A low breath follows, escaping into the chilly afternoon. "It is," agrees the Acting Weyrleader, solemnly somber for the acknowledgement of it. "It's difficult. Also, cold." And K'del is, after all, a busy, busy man-- clearly, he intends to take his leave. « You wish, » declares Cadejoth, far above. He doesn't seem to care. Much. "Have a good afternoon, H'kon." "Indeed," H'kon concurs. It's just when Arekoth is flexing that one leg of his in preparation for... something (retaliation?) that his rider looks his way. The brown gives one look in return, and launches - but with a destination in mind, and one excluding Cadejoth, it seems. Maybe a certain green's ledge. « I don't wish for what I have. » Screw you, dog bronze. H'kon is far more respectful in his salute to his current weyrleader, before he, too, turns to what is next. And screw you, too, brown son. What is it with Cadejoth and his brown offspring? K'del's nod is short and sharp, his salute equally so; then, he pads off through the snow towards the council chambers where, no doubt, more paperwork awaits. |
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