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Nicky at 21:32, 15 May 2013

2013-05-15T21:32:16Z

Nicky: Created page with "{{ Log | who = N'ky | where = Cailluneth's Ledge, Nighthearth | what = There's something freaky on Cailluneth's ledge. | when = It is an autumn morning, 2:11 of day 4, month ..."

2013-05-11T16:22:08Z

Created page with "{{ Log | who = N'ky | where = Cailluneth's Ledge, Nighthearth | what = There's something freaky on Cailluneth's ledge. | when = It is an autumn morning, 2:11 of day 4, month ..."

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{{ Log
| who = N'ky
| where = Cailluneth's Ledge, Nighthearth
| what = There's something freaky on Cailluneth's ledge.
| when = It is an autumn morning, 2:11 of day 4, month 10, turn 31 of Interval 10.
| gamedate = 2013.05.11
| quote = "… and I’m still talking to a stuffie. Is this what the pressures of leadership does to you?"
| weather = Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy.
| categories =
| mentions =
| ooc = Thank you for inspiring this, Alida! <3
| icons = n'ky forserious.jpg
| log =
'''Cailluneth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr'''

''High up, where the wind whistles freely by no matter what the season is, this weyr ledge is secluded and cold, kept out of the sun for most of the day by the rocky outcropping of the Weyr's rim. It offers a decent view of most of the Weyr with the lake in the far distance, but the real show-stopper is at night: the skies open up above it, with - weather permitting, of course - a clear view of the 'Reaches stars, mostly unobstructed given its location. It's of just smaller than average size, big enough for two dragons to perch side by side, or for a smaller one to lounge, though its lack of sun and warmth tends not to encourage such activities.''

''A narrow entranceway into the weyr may cause difficulties for a larger dragon, unless they're careful to tuck their wings in; once inside, though, it opens up to a couch that's amply sized for a pair of dragons to comfortably cuddle. It's mostly open to the rider's quarters, leaving little separation between lifemates.''

With life settling into a new routine, N’ky found himself slipping back into old sleeping habits. Doing so might have exhausted him in the months before, but for some reason he was thriving on it this month. He had been snuggled in with Cailluneth, but a case of the late-night munchies had him getting dressed for a trip down to the nighthearth to see what he could raid.

Cailluneth’s mind suddenly filled his with a swirl of purple curiosity; then he could feel her territorial temper raised and a rush of that primal undercurrent that she kept hidden save for hunting, and he rushed out to the ledge to see what had her so agitated.

His green was hunched over something small, something that he couldn’t quite make out despite the light of Timor’s full moon. “What is it?”

Did he even ''want'' to see, if it was something that had his lifemate worked up so?

Slowly, he edged towards her, crouching down to see what she had her muzzle pressed against – but he didn’t get the chance to see it because as soon as he was close enough, Cailluneth snatched it up in her jaws, tossing it into the air to catch it deftly.

“Cai! What ''is'' it?!”

It couldn’t be a tunnelsnake, could it? Wasn’t that exactly what she did with them, when she was tiny and he’d snuck her into the lower caverns to hunt?

Whatever it was, she tossed it up into the air again, growling when she caught it and shook it violently. Something soft, fluffy and wet with dragondrool hit him in the cheek, and N’ky backed up a step.

<< Drop it! >>

A little pile of sad, damp squishiness hit the ledge with a thwump at his feet, its pale guts spilt around about it, soft and... fluffy?

“A ''stuffie''?”

Cailluneth lowered her head to wuffle at the pathetic little toy, and N’ky gently pushed her away to pick it up.

“Poor thing…”

Even before having its belly slashed open and its arm ripped off, the thing had to have been hideous. But now, covered in sticky slobber and in such a sorry state, N’ky couldn’t help but feel badly for it; what if it was some kid’s lost toy? He tenderly started to push the stuffing back into its tummy, when his fingers brushed against a note, tucked into the wadding.

“Give me a home... or I'll have to hurt you,” he read aloud, looking confused. “Cai?” Her response wasn’t helpful; she knew nothing about it, other than that there was a familiar scent on her ledge. And, given that their last visitor had been Ilicaeth with Alida, that wasn’t a surprise.

“Give me a home or I’ll have to ''hurt you''?” N’ky turned the note over, looking for some sort of clue. Other than the handwriting being somewhat familiar though, there was nothing.

Sighing, he located the fuzzy little arm that had broken free and hit him in the face earlier, and tucked it, along with the plushie, into his jacket. Cailluneth carried him down to the bowl, and he slipped into the lower caverns to the nighthearth, treading the well-known path around the table to the hearth and the klah bubbling merrily on it.

He didn’t see the other stuffie until he turned around with his mug and a plate of meatrolls – and there it was, staring at him from the middle of his favourite chair.

N’ky blinked, looking wide-eyed around him – but there was no-one around.

<< This is… ''creepy''. >>

Cailluneth shared her eagerness to get hold of the second plushie – whirling playful colours around and around with the soft, fluffiness of the toys’ stuffing.

<< No! They’re not for ''that''. They’re not tunnelsnakes. >>

Her giddiness eased off some, and he could feel her losing interest for the moment. Timor was full, and that was enough to hold her thoughts while he perched on the edge of the table, chewing a meatroll while engaged in a staring match with the bug-eyed faux beastie.

“Where did you ''come'' from?”

''I’m talking to a stuffie. An ''ugly'' stuffie. Faranth, maybe I need more sleep? Or more klah… probably more klah.''

And so he gulped down half a mug of the stuff, then went back to eyeing the glowering toy. “You look ''mean''. No wonder someone left you. Do you have a note, too? Will you hurt me if I don’t give you a home?”

N’ky chewed on his lip, tapping his index finger thoughtfully against the tip of his nose.

“''Fine''.” He set his empty mug down, then filled his flask with klah. “''Fine''. You can come home with me too. But if Cailluneth eats you, that’s ''your'' fault.”

''… and I’m still talking to a stuffie. Is this what the pressures of leadership does to you?''

The second toy, with its baleful stare and the hateful stitching that made its mouth was picked up, and tucked into the jacket pocket that didn’t already have the one-armed, gut-busted stuffie in. N’ky made a detour on his way out to Cailluneth, dropping into the stores to steal a little thread and some needles. If he was going to have freaky stuffies in his weyr, he was going to have ''fixed'' freaky stuffies.

When Cailluneth landed on their ledge, he jumped in fright when she dropped a ''third'' toy down on him. “Really?! Cai? ''Really''?!” He picked it up, wincing at the look on its ugly little face. “Where did ''this'' one come from?”

There was no answer to confirm its origins, but Cailluneth ''did'' share her thoughts on the little ones, with a possessive yellow curling around three vague, fuzzy little figures.

“Fine. Fine, fine, fine. But it’ll be your fault that I’m behind in the morning because I spent tonight performing stuffie surgery, and not studying. Ok?”

A loving wuffle of her hot breath against his curls made N’ky melt against Cailluneth’s side; as if he could blame her for anything.

<< I’ll go fix them for you now, ok? But you can’t chew them, or throw them, or do anything ''bad'' to them. >>

She promised.

N’ky was glad for the extra klah he’d brought back up with him as he sat down on the weyr floor in front of the hearth, needles, threads and a few tiny scraps of fabric to use as patches in front of him. The three ugly little stuffies sat in front of him, and one by one he fixed them up. When he was done, he set them in a little line along the edge of Cailluneth’s couch, then crept back off to bed for some more sleep.

Cailluneth picked each of the tiny toys up gently in her maw, setting them down between her forepaws and resting her chin with protective possessiveness over them. ''Hers''.

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 | quote = "… and I’m still talking to a stuffie. Is this what the pressures of leadership does to you?"
 | weather = Fog begins to coalesce in the very early morning hours and lingers throughout the day, soft and still and clammy.
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 | ooc = Thank you for inspiring this, Alida! <3

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 | what = There's something freaky on Cailluneth's ledge.
 | when = It is an autumn morning, 2:11 of day 4, month 10, turn 31 of Interval 10.
 | gamedate = 2013.05.11
 | quote = "… and I’m still talking to a stuffie. Is this what the pressures of leadership does to you?"

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 Cailluneth picked each of the tiny toys up gently in her maw, setting them down between her forepaws and resting her chin with protective possessiveness over them. ''Hers''.
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