Logs:Why Are You Here
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| RL Date: 9 June, 2012 |
| Who: Brieli, Azaylia |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Azaylia and Hraedhyth can't avoid Brieli and Iesaryth forever. The two golds finally meet. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 13, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, Lujayn/Mentions, Tiriana/Mentions |
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| Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr Tucked off the back of the training room, the barracks are a huge, high cavern that stretches far back into the stone of the Weyr. Both of the longer walls are lined with couches for the dragons, enough for a couple of Pass-sized clutches at once, each matched with a cot and press for the weyrling dragonrider. In this day and age, however, the couches in the back have been allowed to grow dusty with long disuse. Hearths are spaced between every few couches to heat the big room. For decoration, there are a number of tapestries on the walls, looking almost as beat-up as the couches out in the training room, but scattered flower pots with their bright blooming contents provide a cheery touch. Additionally, some of the couches have had graffiti scratched into them over the Turns that were never quite cleaned off: smears of chalk messages or even rough pictures, some not fit for young eyes. In many cases names and dates have been painstakingly carved into the rock, a record of those that once made their home here. It must seem like things have just fallen into a comfortable, if sleepy and messy, routine, when the word passes between dragons before they've even arrived - it's so much easier to find out what's happening now! - Brieli and Iesaryth are coming home from Monaco Weyr. The emphasis on 'home' is different for each dragon, depending on how they might feel about this new queen brought from the South, carried between larger dragons on a large blanket-type-thing, if the images passed around are to be believed. The pair are delivered to the barracks with a blast of winter from the bowl, and pretty much immediately ushered off to warm up and rest. Iesaryth is weeks behind the others; it makes their schedule run off the other weyrlings - something else to set them apart. So it is that it takes a day or two for Brieli and Iesaryth to find themselves awake at a decent hour, though not at the most pleasant duty, for the weyrling - cutting meat. Well, she would be, if it were acceptable. Looking at the hunk placed on the block with disbelief, she tells the gold, "I certainly don't see anything wrong with it. Please don't make me put it back." Glimpses. Azaylia has allowed her lifemate to only peek at the newest addition to the weyrling barracks, mentally and visually. Total control is far off, and likely impossible, but the weyrling has been rather crafty as of late. Hraedhyth eats when Iesaryth is being oiled. She is oiled when the other gold eats, and she sleeps when the youner dragon is simply out and about. Though, it might seem as though Azaylia herself is avoiding Brieli as well. Outsiders and rumors are stirring- what young queen would be fine sharing the barracks with another? Though it seems, craft and luck have finally run out as Azaylia walks back into the barracks with a freshly oiled Hraedhyth at her side. A quick scan makes it very obvious that Iesaryth is awake, and apparently hungry, halting the young woman's steps. Her dragonet will have none of that, club wings thumping against her back as she catches sight of the other gold. She's not slowing down, lumbering straight for Iesaryth and coming to a stop only a foot or so away. There she sits, offering nothing than her slow, whirling stare. "She's awake." Azaylia tries for a quiet greeting, walking on the balls of her feet after her lifemate, a glance cast towards Brieli. While Brieli (and perhaps Iesaryth, who knows) might usually twig to such avoidance behavior, all her sharpness has been entirely dulled by days of fatigue - and the trip likely didn't help much either, for all that it wasn't long or far, in technical terms. The younger of the two new goldriders is just weighing the meat cleaver left in the block in one hand, mock-threateningly, when Azaylia arrives... and the way she first lifts fine brows at the other woman, cleaver in hand, might not help any rumors. But then, it's set down and she's smiling, nodding Hraedhyth's way as the gold stares. "They're so much bigger. I wouldn't have thought." Iesaryth is a little distracted by the meat right there, even if it is substandard; even so, she turns to regard Hraedhyth in return, her bright blue eyes quick and curious. The salt-spray of the ocean precedes the gentle roll and break of waves on the beach as Iesaryth reaches out, out, out - the water is warm, the sun glints on it with a golden brightness, their shared sheen. Leisurely in speech, her tenor is as easy as her rider's tones; « Brieli tells me she made sure your Azaylia did not run from you. She says you are strong. » (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Hraedhyth is moving stiffly, despite the fresh oiling and massage that comes with it. When she sits, her tail tightly curls around herself and she arches her neck high. Pride is one reason, or perhaps she's attempting to stress the fact that she's bigger, as Brieli points it out. Azaylia's gaze can't help but drift back to her lifemate, watchful and physically tense despite trying to relax. A slow breath, and she deems it safe enough to chance Brieli with a weak smile. "She's not that much smaller. I mean there's a few gr-." Pause, swallow, and try again. "A few dragons who aren't much bigger." Even as she speaks, her head is turning back to Hraedyth, the silence and stillness... uncomfortable. On the edge of the surf and sand, the plains are quiet to an almost ominous degree. Despite how it may look, it's not completely empty. Every now and then there will be a rustle of emotion in the brush, a low growl that keeps intent hidden though the sound itself is fierce. A boyish husk, youth lacking richness that will come later, « I am strong. » Further rustling, the faint, throbbing echoes of something in the air. « Why are you here. » A question and demand, all in one. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Iesaryth isn't really understanding what Hraedhyth is trying to do, from the way she regards the other weyrling with whirling eyes, snaking her neck down low to get a different perspective for a moment before looking up to Brieli like, what's up with that. Brieli is a little busy clueing into Azaylia's behavior, glancing between Hraedhyth and her rider briefly before she has to reach down and pat Iesaryth's neck, if distractedly. "Well... she's just younger. It doesn't bother me. Is she going to be...?" All right? Really angry? Going into a berserker rage? She'll let Azaylia fill in that blank. The surf pounds steadily against the shore, never wavering, never ending, never darkening or growing into the crashing waves of a storm. The salty breezes drift over the plains; just a scent of her thoughts, of different kinds of strength, of her rider's strength, quiet and calm. Whatever is in the air doesn't silence Iesaryth - simply: « I am supposed to be here. I was brought here. My sire is of here. » (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) "I...I have no idea." Azaylia answers honestly, apologetically. "She's really quiet." At least, more so than usual and that's enough for anyone familiar with Hraedhyth to show some concern. The weyrling steps forward and drags a few fingers down the side of her gold's glossy neck, "She's not super tense." Relief is obvious in her tone. "Just... quiet." Brown eyes flick back over to Brieli, "I... how're you? Was it- are you happy?" She stresses, a note of desperation in her voice. Hraedhyth's callow voice is forceful, rough in a manner that just is rather than caused by those hidden emotions. « Your sire is. You are not. » A quiver of something; suspicion? Confusion? Both. The growl builds, a constant sound now, though the drums sound far off yet. It's exhausting, keeping it all bottled up- but it is proof that she can. Hesitant to give away her arsenal to a stranger, be they unknown enemy or ally. There's a bit more pressure, a forceful mental push paired with that intensifying rumble, « Why. Are. You. Here. » (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) "Iesaryth's... not quiet. Never quiet, to me. I suppose to everyone else... I haven't really noticed if she makes a lot of noise otherwise." This oversight mystifies Brieli, as if she'd just said she'd forgotten to put on her socks this morning before walking out in the snow. "I'm always so tired, and it's so hard to know what I've said or done, sometimes," she confesses, over a sigh. Iesaryth gets another flicker of a glance, a concerned moment before that shifts entirely over to Azaylia - that desperate note not unheard. "I... It's not easy. But I needed her. But I worried about you. I worried about you and her - did I make a mistake, keeping you there?" She actually sounds sincerely worried. Still fairly mellow and sea-breezy, seafoam and sunsplashed water, Iesaryth is not overly bothered by what she considered to be details. « I am here now. My egg was meant for here. I was meant for here and for Brieli. Brieli must be at High Reaches. She could be nowhere else. » There is weight to this, importance; Hraedhyth must know that Iesaryth tells her this where she would tell few others. « I am here. » Implacable in that, the sense is that she is part of this place now. Or considers herself to be. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Azaylia looks hurt. Or perhaps, shocked. "No." Firm without anger, she has widened eyes for Brieli only. "No, you didn't make a-a mistake. Don't say that ever again." Intensity wavers suddenly, voice once again gentle, "Please." Her hands unball, wiping the unwanted tension off on her pants as her gaze drops down to Iesaryth and Hraedhyth. "And she's not quiet, exactly. Just quiet for her." But as there doesn't seem to be a war breaking out, she'll attempt to relax further. "You'll be tired for a long time." Trying to sound experienced and helpful, "Even I'm still..." The bags under her eyes speak volumes when she falters. « Azaylia stays. » Defensive, those drum beats pick up in intensity, « And I stay with her. This is our territory. » There's a pulse of not-quite anger that doesn't belong to Hraedhyth, a touch of the divine with how silent she falls at the shared emotion. « And I am not a mistake. » But there is no anger, only confidence. Hraedhyth isn't blind to the importance shared, licked at by curious flames that spring to life, easy and contained for now. Weighty topics are welcome and she shares, « They made Iovniath leave. » Not we of High Reaches, but they of the older dragons. A crackle of flawed older dragons is whispered between them. « They can make you leave, too. » A hiss of smokey warning, or is that a threat? (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) "I won't." Brieli promises that immediately. "Ever. I promise." One stained, long-fingered hand reaches out hesitantly before stopping halfway to Azaylia and dropping; she's not very good at this when not in immediate scary danger. Looking down to the butcher's block to score a line in it with a nail, "I just worried about you after. I don't think you always think enough of yourself. I worried that you'd think it was too much." A pause, before, "I don't worry about a lot of people anymore. I'm sorry if... I said something I didn't mean." She's happy enough to move on, and let the two golds get acquainted if Iesaryth isn't about to pass out from hunger, nodding with a wry smile. "Everyone's said that. I think there's no getting caught up on the sleep we'll miss." Smile widening a touch, though she looks a little embarrassed, "Before you hear about it from someone else - I cried on the Sands. And for the better part of a day or so. They thought I was insane." « It is yours. And Ysavaeth's. And Rielsath's. » And Iesaryth's now as well, but she doesn't feel the need to put that into words; she's just confident in that. As for mistakes, there's a spray of derision for that idea. « You are a queen. » Therefore not a mistake. But she'll soak up that shared emotion, let it sink into the sand and consider it for some time. The flames glint off the water in a livelier way than sunlight; with interest, « Did they. I will ask about that. She will tell me why. And if they can... or how. Or if they will. » The smokey hiss is marked, followed. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Azaylia deflates with something akin to relief, small smile genuine with just a hint of self deprecation. "No, of course you didn't." Sincere words leave her in a sigh. "I think maybe Hraedhyth is doing something, to me. Sometimes." But this fact is accepted rather than an attempt to blame her lifemate. Brieli's attempt to reach out prompts her to step forward and slide an arm around the other girl's waist if she's allowed. Half-hug is delicate as well as strong, trying to lend her physical strength- perhaps wishing for some of Breli's emotional stability. "It's okay. I cried a lot too, after. Only everyone thought my Hraedhyth was insane, not me." A soft laugh, though she'll step back and give the chunk of meat an easy glance. "Would you like me to help?" The drums convey a different message through the heavy air, no longer threatening war by the shore so readily. Instead, there is a thumping curiosity of their union, as land and sea. Water and flame. The fire grows with the fear that she will not admit, but it is obvious in that heat. « They can make me leave. » Admitting it has her growling, fueling the anger that had just moments ago been soothed. The smoke gains volume, darkening Iesaryth's reflective surface with blackened blame and sooty suspicion. There is, however, space between those collecting clouds, gaps where the other queen might shine her light on the situation. A gracious opportunity. « They can afford to make me leave, with you here. » (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) With a grin, "Of course she is. How can they not do something to us? Everything-- almost everything missing is there again." Brieli will allow the hug and return it, perhaps if only to cover up that she might be misting up again; the lack of sleep and Iesaryth and everything is really shaking that emotional stability a little, but she's quick enough to pull it together, laugh as Azaylia does. As she steps back, "I didn't think she was insane - just determined. I know what that looks like. People don't know what to do with different." With a glance to the meat, a roll of her eyes, "Oh. Maybe we can pass it off. It's not to her ladyship's liking. She thinks it flawed." Iesaryth snorts. It so is. The ocean's cadence falls in rhythm with the drums, the growing fire's crackle reflected in the roll of the waves as they stretch wide and long over the sands. The clouds may darken the water, but the waves don't grow, not yet. « Hraedhyth - why would they? She says they made Iovniath leave because of her rider. Can you think of a reason in the world that your rider would do something to make you leave? » Iesaryth will pluck an image of Azaylia from Brieli's head at her most harmless, perhaps brightly dressed at one of the feasts, afraid she might offend someone by speaking. « They will not make you leave. » She is as confident of this as her own place. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Azaylia says, "Well, yes." Though Azaylia's hesitant, her own bond different enough to notice, though not enough to disagree with Brieli. As if she would. "Hraedhyth is very different." A glance towards the two once more, and even unending love and devotion to her dragon doesn't make the weyrling blind. "Iesaryth is very pretty." These words are whispered, barely audible for fear of what a jealous gold is capable of. Azaylia straightens suddenly, surprised at the idea of a dragonet being picky about food. "I don't see anything wrong with it." Concern is light, but there, "Oh she really should eat, too. Hraedhyth's already been fed." How else would one explain the tenuous peace between the two?" A stamp of stubborn, youthful fear. « They will try. One day. » Hraedhyth is sure of it, just as her foreign sister (not stranger) is sure of their place as queens. She shares in this certainty, smoke dissipating, allowing the salty air to carry it away and return Iesaryth's golden light to her waves. The fire burns hotter, but this time the kindling is love and warmth for that image of Azaylia, momentarily distracted. « And if They try, with you, I will not let them. » The flames extend to the water without doing harm to the beach, red light mingling and dancing in the gilded reflections. « We are Sisters. We are Queens. Queens protect the Weyr. » A verbal treaty is offered, « We, » Not all of High Reaches this time. We, as in the two golds, distorted but reprisented in her dancing flames. « We will stand together. » Hopeful, questioning, probing, waiting for the other's answer and growing impatient with every passing moment. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Perhaps noticing the hesitation - or knowing well enough that her bond isn't Azaylia's - Brieli adds quickly, "Well, it feels like that for me sometimes... but I've been so long without--" She tries to find the words and shrugs before finally, "Anyone, really. Anyone that I mattered that much to." She'll shake that off, scrubbing hands over her face before tucking dark tangled hair behind her ears with a purposeful sigh. With a wide smile, "Thank you. But she won't fly as far or as long as Hraedhyth when it comes time, I think. And... oh. She just likes... I'd say expensive things? If she knew how much anything cost. Look! Look." She gets Iesaryth's attention, and starts looking for offending bits to hack off. "Just... let me know if you see any gristle I'm missing? Or if I'm about to lose a finger. How are you doing?" Like ocean's calm after storm, « And if they try with you, I will not let them. I am not a warrior, but you are, Sister. » Iesaryth's breezes are like her mind; quick and nimble as water running, able to clear the air and stoke the fires of love burning hot, out over the beach and waves like bonfires for a gather. This is a celebration, in the other gold's mind. « We will protect the Weyr and stand together, Hraedhyth. » She is equally confident in that - there may be a flicker of concern, a flicker of an image of her rider, but it passes. Treaty accepted. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Polite curiosity is obvious in Azaylia's gaze, and while she hovers around the other weyrling it's only to offer support. "I can't compete with Iesaryth," Another soft laugh at the thought that anyone would try. She knows that now, with her own dragonet. "But... uhm, you matter to me." Bold only long enough to touch Brieli's elbow, her hand slips away. "I kind of undrstand? I mean, Hraedhyth likes things she thinks are better. Never food, though." Who could be picky about that? Hraedhyth finally stirs, that tawny hide loosening as the weyrlings talk before she suddenly lurches forward with a bellow. Azaylia turns suddenly, eyes wide, panicked as there's contact. Hraedhyth all but squishes her face against Iesaryth's, sharing the oil as lids come down, squeezed shut while she forcefully nuzzles the younger dragonet. In the commotion it may look like an attack, but Azaylia is quick to still Brieli should she need to, "Oh! Oh, no. She's so happy." Relief as well as her own pleasure is carried out on a gentle exhale. There is no celebration without drums, and this time they are struck with confidence, music meant to be felt as well as heard. « Good! » It might be overwhelming, so loud and chaotic in her mind in comparison to Iesaryth's cool calm. But it lasts only as long as it takes for the physical connection to be made, cuddling fur and pleasant pressure offered as a belated welcome for her new Sister. « Now EAT. » Comes the roar of flame and mirth, as passionate and powerful as her anger, « It is not good to starve. EAT! » (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Touched, Brieli glances down at her elbow, then up at Azaylia with a smile. Dark eyes meeting her brown, sincere, "Thank you. I'm glad to see you're not - curled up in a ball, or having an awful time of it." Which is to say, Azaylia matters to her too, she's just not all that good at saying it. As she goes back to preparing the meat, she shrugs. "I have no idea, but she's picky about everything. I'm glad we're meant to have some pay eventually, because I don't think I have enough to keep her in the style she'd like." She sounds like she's joking, but only just. As Iesaryth, relatively small as she is, is squishified and nearly bowled over by one warrior queen with a little bellow of her own, the younger woman merely looks up to blink a few time before shaking her head with a grin. "She's not worried, but she says she has to eat now. Something about Hraedhyth." Iesaryth doesn't do much more than turn her head, content to let her rider offer her chunks while her sister-gold is nearby. To Hraedhyth, Iesaryth might be a bit taken aback, physically and mentally, but she is glad for the happiness and the leaping flame, so pretty against the waves. « I told her she needs to bring it to me. » She likes the contact with the larger dragon, the feel of oil against already-itchy hide. She likes not having to move too. The admission is quiet, "You should have seen me the first couple of days." Quiet, not ashamed to share but it's still only meant for the other gold weyrling. "I'm getting used to it." Slowly but surely. Still, Hraedhyth's sudden affection is a new experience all around and Azaylia can't help but coo. It's possible she's getting echoes of that warmth, closing her eyes and pressing oil-smoothed palms to her cheeks. "Scho cute." Hraedhyth will shift and get more comfortable, leaning a lot of her weight onto the smaller gold- but not all of it. No harm meant, she'll content herself with rubbing more oil onto Iesaryth- also mouthing playfully at her headknobs. Grawmnom. To Iesaryth, Hraedhyth is pleased to hear that the other will be eating soon. « And then I will show you where the best oil is. » So much to teach and show the younger Sister, delighting in the water's cool, misty shores. Salty scent will be carried back into her domain, sticking stubbornly to fur just as she will attempt to leave black fire pits along Iesaryth's beach. « And there is a difference, do not listen to Mine or Yours. » But only in that respect, of course. Lightly, as quietly, "At least you didn't keep crying like a madwoman. I almost teared up in front of R'hin. It was mortifying." Brieli and Azaylia can play 'trade the humiliation' all weyrlinghood, sounds like. Yay! "I haven't gotten used to feeling so... exposed, in a way. That's the part that feels so strange to me. Is she not like this often?" She doesn't know Hraedhyth well enough yet, but knows Iesaryth is happy - the smaller dragon is letting the larger gold lean her oily bulk on her lanky frame and chomping down meat as her rider feeds it to her, sighing with a pleased air. Even if she's getting chewed on. Both food and warmth and headknob chewing make for a pleasantly sleepy dragon; something about the firepits echo in Iesaryth's memories that she's stolen from Brieli's, so she not only lets Hraedhyth set them up, but she embellishes with stones and wooden logs for people to sit around them. « I will listen to you. And she will listen to me. She knows she must in these things. She knows clothing but nothing else important. » She'll fix that. (Iesaryth to Hraedhyth) Azaylia giggles. Not at Brieli, never, but there's something about the shared humiliation between two that's almost comforting. "Exposed?" She tries to empathize, "I haven't felt that. Mostly I'm just so tired at trying not to get upset..." Just uttering the words have her shoulders slump. "And she'll still find something to be furious over." The sight of the two golds cuddling is enough to give her hope. "She tries to cuddle Eolenth, if she'd stay still long enough." Surprise is likely born out of worry that everyone might still be feeling; two queens are sure to bump heads eventually. But not today, it seems. "Iesaryth is so sweet- I was worried for you, too." Another quiet admission, perhaps guilty. "I was hoping you'd Impress. When I heard you went to Monaco." Hraedhyth is delighted by the embellished firepits and makes an unspoken promise to use them. But even now, she can sense her Sister becoming sleepy. The drums are pounded gently, a soothing lullaby, flames hissing in a 'shush' to no one in that childish excitement- even for Iesaryth's impending nap. « My Azaylia will need to listen to your Brieli for these clothing things. » Because clearly, it is the best and her rider needs that as well. « But you will sleep soon. And I will stand guard. » Because that's what big sisters are supposed to do. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Brieli just shakes her head. Horrifying - but still, she's smiling, because at least they both looked stupid for a reason, and maybe weyrlinghood gives a bit of a pass. Slowly, "It's hard to explain. But it's difficult for me. Even though it's her, it still feels like--" She stops, feeding Iesaryth a few more pieces of meat, who is intent on eating despite her encroaching nap. With a little shrug and a smile, "I don't know. I wonder if she'll get angry less as time goes on and she's more on her own time." Glancing back to Azaylia as the other weyrling watches the golds, "Iesaryth likes everyone, I think. And - the Weyr is big enough for all of them. Maybe the barracks for a little while." For that admission, not guilty at all, "I was too. And I did everything I could to put the odds in my favor." To Hraedhyth, Iesaryth is delighted with the idea of standing guard - another echo from a memory that's not hers, but she knows this means safe. Safer. It means sleeping sound, no bumps in the night. Nothing to break the ocean's calm, nor her own protective cocoon around her own rider. « Thank you. » This means much to her, even as fuzzy as things are getting - and: « She will help. I am sure of that too. » She images long dark fingers stitching; not beloved craft, but simple to do. Then, foodfoodfoodsleepfood. "Come on, Hraedhyth." Azaylia tries to coax her lifemate, tone gentle and not at all something that should set the gold off. But there's still a healthy amount of respect for that temper. "You can sit next to Iesaryth's couch, if you want." Which will be just barely good enough for the larger gold to push up to her feet, ready to escort her new sister if she's able to move. Azaylia will look to Brieli, a warm smile curling her lips with just a bit more confidence. "I bet it'll get easier for you. Or you'll get used to it. Whichever, it works." Speaking from only a few weeks of experience, but for the other weyrling's sake. "Whatever you did, it worked." Bright, happy if a touch tired. Hreadhyth may be startled by the gratitude, but it will only cause a single skipped beat in that steady lullaby. « You are welcome. » But if there is one thing she knows, it's sleep and how quickly it can overtake even the mightiest warrior. Her warmth will remain only until she is absolutely sure Iesaryth is under deep sleep, and even then her mental presence won't be far. For now, that is a good thing. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) Iesaryth can move, but first Brieli has to convince her that she doesn't need to eat anymore. That done, the smaller gold can waddle her now rather-full self over to her couch. Slowly. Brieli herself is trying to fight the effects of her dragon's sleepiness on her own conscious state; covering a yawn, "I'll have to. We'll have to. Or die trying." It's only a half-joke - she realizes that as it's on the way out, then gives Azaylia an apologetic smile as she helps Iesaryth up onto the couch. "Well, all I really did was try to impress Oriane. I doubt that made much difference." A beat, before; "I'm glad they seem to get along. They're very different, I think." To Hraedhyth, Iesaryth's break and rush of ocean waves are as regular as her breath as she slips into sleep. Full belly, allies made, sister on guard, warm oily hide. What more could a little dragon want? Azaylia is forced to follow. And by forced, of course it means she's willingly tailing after Hraedhyth who has taken it upon herself to survey Brieli's care. "I think they're pretty much opposites." But then she's looking at the other weyrling as she says this, smile growing just a bit as she continues, "But that doesn't mean they can't be friends." Hraedhyth settles next to Iesaryth's couch, not completely untouched by sleep but not yet ready to move to her own. Azaylia watches her lifemate, and with a laugh. "I'm going to see if I can ask for a cup of klah. You should probably nap, if you can?" If not, the invitation is unsaid but obvious. Whatever the answer may be, Hraedhyth won't be rampaging today- though those who come to close to the slumbering Iesaryth will be growled at. Hraedhyth's retreat is mostly silent. There's one last beat of a drum, thrum echoing in the air before all that's left is the steady sound of the surf. As it should be. (Hraedhyth to Iesaryth) With a little laugh, quiet enough so she won't wake sleeping dragons - though what could, really? - Brieli nods Azaylia's way and agrees, "True enough. And... yes. I think I'll do that." She sounds a little wistful at the idea of klah and more chat, but then she's looking at the couch - and dark eyes are now eyeing the spot next to Iesaryth longingly. "Right. Well, at least she'll be kept busy? Thank you, Hraedhyth," she says as she climbs onto the couch, tone implying she's well aware she's not the one being guarded. Even so, she'll likely sleep the better for it, even if they're only being guarded against fellow weyrlings and the odd firelizard. CommentsComments on "Logs:Why Are You Here"K'del (K'del) left a comment on Sun, 10 Jun 2012 05:10:31 GMT.
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Sun, 10 Jun 2012 05:21:39 GMT.
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Comments
Comments on "Logs:Why Are You Here"K'del (K'del) left a comment on Sun, 10 Jun 2012 05:10:31 GMT.
I am kind of terrified by the 'your powers combined'ness of your dragons. Just sayin'.
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Sun, 10 Jun 2012 05:21:39 GMT.
If wiki had a 'like' button? I concur with K'del. Terrifying.
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