Difference between revisions of "Logs:Sweet Turned Sour"

He had been well pleased with himself. Rasavyth had delighted in telling K'zin about his puppet show for Ghislaith and the apology of her rider on E'sren's behalf.

It had been great! Until K'zin started yelling. And now? Now, he went on and on and on. Rasavyth did not often find K'zin tiresome, but he did tonight.

« Blah blah blah no right blah blah insulted manhood blah! » K'zin raged. Rasavyth wasn't really listening, though the shouts echoed from the inner weyr onto the ledge. Not that K'zin would know. He'd tune back in when K'zin had spent himself and smooth things over.

It had been a good test, he decided. K'zin was growing, that much was obvious from both how he handled Ahruth's E'sren and that he now had the spine necessary to give his dragon a piece of his mind. It also showed limits. Limits that Rasavyth would stretch, and stretch, and stretch until they suited his big dreams.

He had been so amused by the slamming of Ghislaith's door. Again and again. It was almost as good as the way Nhidanth would sometimes rise to the cleverly masked implications of wrong-doing by his rider while Rasavyth consoled the distraught blue in the face of Quielle's troubles. Even the troubles amused him.

Listening to the soundtrack that was K'zin's storm, Rasavyth reflected happily. What a wonderful time to be alive and playing the game.