Difference between revisions of "Logs:Lake Shore Encounters"

It's the first day of spring, though it doesn't mean the weather has noticeably warmed up entirely yet. It's been raining on and off most of the day, though it's lightened up enough through the afternoon that those needing to be outdoors has braved the coolish weather to do whatever they need to. Isyath, as ever, is present in the skies above, circling high - occasionally joined by another dragon, but most seem to prefer the warmth and shelter of their own weyrs today. Ali's barely been seen since after the hatching - after Hattie's illness was learnt - undoubtedly kept busy. Today, though, she appears to be taking time out for a brisk walk around the lake shore, occasionally pausing to brush dampness from her forehead and peer upwards in the direction of her queen.

For Dal and Suraieth, 'doing what they need to do' appears to be a ramble across the rain-pocked sand of the lake shore, coming in the opposite direction to Ali. The green has waded into the lake, standing rigidly still as she stares, eerily focused, in the direction of the waterfall. Dal, too, has come to a halt: he's watching her, his shoulders hunched against the chilly air, his hair lank and damp, adhered to the skin of his forehead. "Su?" he's asking, uncertain. "Come back in. It'll get deep."

Dragon> To N'dalis, Suraieth is not convinced by that. « It won't get deeper while I'm just standing here. That isn't logical. Nor will I trip and fall; I am /not/ that clumsy. » Rain dapples her mental waters, sullying smoothness and hinting at deeper curiosity.

Ali's not exactly prone to quietness, and the crunch of her feet against the ground is probably audible as she alters her path to head towards N'dalis once she spots him. Almost immediately - after a look at the weyrling - she follows his gaze towards the green, a smile slipping across her features. "They're great swimmers," she murmurs, in a way that's probably meant to be reassuring, hunching into the depths of her shawl as she watches. "How is she doing? How are /you/--?"

Suraieth trills /her/ greeting, and there's something smug about it - something that makes N'dalis flush, even if most of that color is lost beneath the pre-existing redness of wind-chapped cheeks. He turns, executing a sharp salute, and says, "She says I should listen to you, and that it isn't logical to assume that she'll fall, ma'am, and probably she's right. I just..." His expression turns wry. "She's good. /We're/ good. It's..." Abruptly, there's a smile: a genuine one.

"It's hard not to worry," Ali allows, her gaze flickering towards the weyrling, then away as she notes the blush, as if giving him space for a moment. "But they're not like human babies: they're a lot tougher in many ways- it's the emotional support they need this early as much as anything." Is that a note of envy, very faintly audible in the junior's tone? If so, it's odd indeed. When N'dalis trails off, it draws the woman's gaze back towards him, her own smile matching his. "I'm glad she found you, N'dalis." A flicker of a gaze towards the green, then, "Do you think Suraieth would mind coming back to the shore so I could get a closer look at her? She's /very/ pretty."

Dragon> To Suraieth, N'dalis projects, « Well? She wants to have a look at you, Su. And she's a weyrwoman, so it's important to do what she asks. »

Dragon> Because /Ali/ is paying attention, Isyath is too, abruptly: her presence a mixture of bright stars and the sensations of cold air brushing past her wings. (To Suraieth from Isyath)

Dragon> To N'dalis, Suraieth projects, « I am in the water. /Oh/. »

Dragon> To Suraieth, N'dalis projects, « Oh? »

Dragon> Silence. (Suraieth to N'dalis)

"She's beautiful," is Dal's answer, falling short of being an outright /correction/ to Ali's statement, though it's as full of warmth and affection as one would expect: he's quietly besotted. He studies the goldrider for a moment, and then nods, contemplative; his attention is turned back to his dragon, his expression taking on the distant look of one in silent conversation. By the end, he looks confused, blinking away the moment, and glancing back at Ali, apologetic. "She says she's in the water, which is obvious, but..." Clearly doesn't answer the question. "And then she stopped responding." Instead, she's lifted her head and is staring into the air, transfixed.

Dragon> Cold air. /Wind/. Stars! Suraieth is terribly interested in all of these, every ounce of her presence suddenly lurching, wave-like, in Isyath's direction. « You are /flying/. » (To Isyath from Suraieth)

Certainly, the junior's quick to murmur a soft agreement with Dal's answer, correction or no. "They can be easily distracted," Ali says, although she follows the green's glance skyward briefly- and that is possibly answer enough for her with a grimace. "She's more than likely talking to other dragons. Many of them are particularly curious about them at this stage - wanting to know what sort of dragon they might be. Tell me, how are you- getting on with the other weyrlings?" The dark-haired woman /tries/ to keep her tone light, though she's not adept enough to hide the slight tensing of her posture.

Dragon> Rather than answer, Isyath does even better: she shares. This high, the rain is pure mist, obscuring vision, though the ground - distant and tiny, the lake itself a mere patch - is visible here and there. There's no thermals to keep her aloft, only the sweep of her giant wings, stirring the mist, pressing against the air- the whole thing delightful and /heady/. (To Suraieth from Isyath)

"She's -" begins the weyrling, who then cuts himself off, shaking his head. His hands get shoved more deeply into his pockets, his gaze still fixed upon Suraieth, even if the stiffening of his posture, matching Ali's quite without intending to, makes a silent answer to her question. "Some better than others," he admits, gaze lowering first towards his feet, and then, hesitantly, towards the goldrider. "I try to get along with everyone."

Dragon> To Isyath, Suraieth's interest is palpable, single-minded and very nearly absolute: there are no more slopping waves of water, just absolute stillness. « I see, » is her answer, quiet, and not immediately illustrative. « Where do you fly to? »

"I can- understand that. What happened at the hatching- with those candidates who came in later-" Ali's /trying/ to be diplomatic and not entirely succeeding, given her unsettled expression. "You would be forgiven for feeling like they- they cheated somehow." Is that how /she/ feels? Somehow, it seems stronger than that, though the junior's gaze is directed downwards, now. "Sometimes- often- you form bonds, despite yourself. I don't- think that's a bad thing. Not in- in this case. It's better to /know/-" she breaks off, abruptly.

Dragon> « Whereever the mood takes me, » Isyath's answer is fleeting, and light, and full of /freedom/, the sensation that she can do whatever she wants, whenever. It, too, is heady in its own way, and dizzying in its potential. Amongst flashes of Fort seen from above are other places: a pure white sandy beach; an iced-over lake; an island covered in bushes of neat rows; an unfamiliar Hold. (To Suraieth from Isyath)

N'dalis' expression is largely unreadable, though a person looking closely at his eyes might see something akin to acknowledgement and understanding in the depths of his dark-eyed gaze. "It wasn't right," he says, quietly, a confirmation that lacks emotional backing of any significance. "What happened. I'm sorry that it happened to your - to Isyath's clutch, ma'am. I hope that they will overcome any... whatever the intentions were, and become strong, solid riders for Fort. I'm afraid I find it difficult to trust them, though. R'zi... I'll keep an eye on them, ma'am. We both will."

Dragon> To Isyath, Suraieth is fascinated - and also bewildered. « But not /to/ anything, » she surmises. « Why? I don't understand. It isn't logical. » There's a stirring in her waters, now, confusion welling up beneath the smoothness, sending ripples here and there. « For what reason do you go to these places? »

Unfortunately Ali isn't watching N'dalis closely; trying too hard to attempt to keep her /own/ expression from being too obvious. It's probably why there's a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she continues, "I- I am too. It's- not a trend I'll allow to continue," but how she'll /stop/ it is the thing that's perhaps up for debate. "Someone... must have helped them. Riders." /That/ thought alarms the junior more than any other, and it makes her breath hitch until N'dalis' latter words finally draws her gaze with a grateful smile. "I hope so too. And- thank you." There might well be a flinch when he mentions R'zi. "Are you eating well enough? I remember how- difficult it is, how often you forget. I should make something for you all, set up a buffet in the barracks one evening, if Ben will allow."

Dragon> Again, it is Isyath's images rather than her words that answer her offspring: the delight of the flight, seeing everything, always, at once, and a sensation of... watching. « You will not understand until you fly, Suraieth. It is what we are meant to do. We are not meant to be bound to the ground. » A flickering of pity for the flightness nature of the young dragon is overwhelmed, soon enough, by equally reflected fascination. « Every place is different. Interesting, in its own way. The wind shifts strangely, and you must fly to match it. It is a challenge to be conquered. » (To Suraieth from Isyath)

There's something of Suraieth's placid certainty in Dal's response, this time - and an iron beneath it that promises his loyalty. "If so," he says, "we'll find them, and we'll fix this problem, ma'am. We /won't/ let it continue." There's nothing in his tone to suggest that he sees himself at the center of this; he's a foot soldier, a loyal minion. "There's not much that can stop /me/ from eating, ma'am, though there are others - I'm sure that would be appreciated." It's then that Suraieth begins wading in, slinking her damp form around her rider's legs, claiming him as her own again.

Dragon> Stormy waters encircle Suraieth. « She should not pity me. I will not be pitied. » (Suraieth to N'dalis)

Dragon> To Isyath, Suraieth is uncertain as to the merits of this, though her curiosity wins out over any other concerns. « I shall like to fly, » she decides. « But you should not pity me. /I/ have my first flight ahead of me; /you/ shall never have such a thing again. »

Dragon> To Suraieth, N'dalis doesn't quite /understand/ what is going on here, but he's certain of one thing: « Of course you won't. She shouldn't. No one should. »

Dragon> To N'dalis, Suraieth is pleased.

Ali takes steps back to let the green claim her rider- the gesture evoking a delighted smile from the junior. "I'm glad to hear that - on both counts." With an exhale: "I should get back to the records- and let you tend to Suraieth." But that doesn't mean she doesn't take the time for an admiring inspection of the dragon all the same, even down to her shorter-than-normal tail. "She's on the larger side, for Issy's children- normally her greens are quite small."

Dragon> There's that airy distraction in the way her stars flicker- distracted by the flight. « And in that time, I shall know the winds and skies of many more places. » Or so Isyath hopes, anyway. « I shall watch, when you take your first flight, Suraieth. I shall remember. » As much as a dragon can: she sounds as if she looks forward to it, even if it's not her own. (To Suraieth from Isyath)

"She's growing so fast," says Suraieth's besotted rider, with another smile hinted at about the corners of his mouth. Staring at his green takes up a few seconds, but not all of his attention - he pauses, turning dark-eyed gaze back on to the goldrider. Then, "Ma'am, are you looking after /yourself/? I know things must be busy, and difficult... Don't forget to feed yourself." He's a little embarrassed to be turning the question on to her, but his chin is held high nonetheless; his concern is obvious.

Dragon> To Isyath, Suraieth, surprised by this view-point, is startled into silence for several seconds. « You will have to show us places to go, » she decides, abruptly. « I will learn from you. I can see you have much to teach. » It pleases her.

Hesitation is painted in Ali's expression; she looks visibly surprised by the question as much as who it is from. "You're- the Headwoman wouldn't let me get away with that, even if I'd tried." If anything, she looks rueful. "Thank you, though, N'dalis," her hand slips out from under the warmth of her shawl, half stretched in his direction, "Don't stay out here too long. It's not true spring yet, even if the snow's stopped," before her head twists, as she starts to walk back across the bowl.

Dragon> Isyath's agreement is immediate: delighted at the opportunity, « I will show you many places, young one. There is much to see. » But for now, the queen retreats, caught up by a particularly strong downward draft, the stars sparkling outwards with her sudden delight. (To Suraieth from Isyath)

"Good," says N'dalis, standing his ground - and, abruptly, smiling at her. "I'm glad." His nod answers the rest of what she says; he draws his coat more closely around himself, dropping one hand down to rest upon Suraieth's head. No doubt they won't be out for too much longer-- but it's not quite time to move yet.