Logs:You're Weak
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| RL Date: 19 July, 2014 |
| Who: V'ros |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: V'ros is sleeping, but Zmeyth is hungry. Someone wins. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 13, Month 4, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Cold and clear. |
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| « Get rid of it. » White clouds move across a brilliant blue sky, slowly making their way East. Beneath Valenros's head is a bed of verdant green - soft green grass scattered with tiny flowers and taller weeds. Sweet fragrances waft on the breeze, a breeze that brushes his face like a caress. Lying so still and motionless, it's easy to forget the world and every anxious thought in it. Somewhere someone sings a soft lullaby, the gentle notes finding the young man's ears and causing a smile to spread over his features. « Now. » His eyes, closed before, suddenly snap open. Overhead is darkness, rough-hewn rock. Someone is crying in the dark, and many are muttering or snoring. Before he sees the hulking brown form of his new lifemate, he feels him, the callous brush of his draconic voice inside his head, trying to mingle with his own bruised thought patterns. "Wh.. what?" He remembers.. he is no longer Valenros, he is V'ros. No longer a simple Holder with little ambition, but a weyrling with a new partner in life. Never alone, never just one, but two. And just like that, Zmeyth asserts himself, wrapping those fleeting thoughts and pangs of panic in a haze of smoke. Hunger crushes his sentiments, a raw, throbbing feeling that rips a groan from his throat. « You're weak, we will fix that. » Brown eyes meet whirling red ones. "Zmeyth," V'ros grounds out, but he doesn't have time to finish, as another wave of assault crashes over his mind, the not-so-subtle machinations of his dragon outweighing his own faults. « I'm hungry. » "I.. I know," he says, squeezing his eyes shut, breathing loudly. But there's nothing to it - what Zmeyth wants, he gets. V'ros pushes up from his cot, where moments before he was slumbering soundly, and shuffles towards the bins of meat. He covers his nose and mouth with his free arm, digging down deep to find an adequate piece - it's the smell that wafts up, the metallic twang of blood, and the squishy feel of the flesh. This time he manages not to gag, carrying the meat back to his dragon, who feasts with relish. « Good. » V'ros sits on the floor in front of Zmeyth's couch, his knees bent, and stares at the floor. There's no real need to look at the brown - he's there, ever present in his mind, trying to mold and change everything. He closes his eyes, bowing his head as he listens to the sounds of sharp teeth ripping into the meat and cracking gristle. « Stop worrying.. I'm here. » But worry he does, head falling into his hands, mindless of the leftover blood that smears its way from his hands to his face. Somewhere across the barracks another sob breaks the relative quiet of the room, followed by a series of loud "shhh"s. |
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Comments
Azaylia on 12:31, 19 July 2014 said...
This was fantastic. I can't wait to see what stems from a bond like theirs. :D
Edyis on 13:53, 19 July 2014 said...
Can't wait to see these two in action!
K'zin on 00:57, 21 July 2014 said...
Awesome!!
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