Logs:Post Workout Imaginings
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| RL Date: 19 May, 2013 |
| Who: Azaylia, Hraedhyth, Alida, Ilicaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After joining Alida and K'zin in their moning routine, Azaylia and the blue weyrling get a chance to talk. Hraedhyth and Ilicaeth play. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 28, Month 10, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Aishani/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, K'zin/Mentions, Taikrin/Mentions |
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| Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs. It happens, on occasion, when the stars align and Azaylia is actually able to join Alida and K'zin in their morning routine. In keeping up with the weyrlings, the weyrwoman proves that she's still keeps to her own regime despite their conflicting schedules. It's afterward that the satisfying burn in her muscles has her heading for the lake, where Hraedhyth guards towels and a skin of water. The tawny gold snarls a greeting when approached, her rider snatching up a towel to wipe off a layer of sweat from her face. One is tossed towards Alida, the other left unused given that K'zin had to excuse himself right as they finished-- a silver thread's duty is never done. Nothing like some long laps and then repeated, quick bursts of firestone sack-tossing to build different kinds of muscle! As nearly always, the physical exertion gives Alida not only bursts of endorphins, but the payoff of keeping her body at peak form... something a guard needs, even if she's now a dragonrider. An eyeballing is given to growly Hraedhyth, the bluie's green gaze then flicking over towards Ilicaeth, who's swimming and diving like a submarine right now, his head breaking the lake's surface so he can blast out a held breath, then inhale to warble to both his lifemate and the weyrwoman. Even as the blonde nabs that tossed towel out of the air from Azaylia, and notes to the goldie somewhat breathily, "Poor Waki. Sucks bein' him, right now," her blue is motoring quickly through the water towards the shore...and giving a sudden, firm lash of his long tail towards his dam's nearest haunch. If it connects, it'll feel like a pool noodle meeting skin in firm fashion. It's been a while since Azaylia's stunk of firestone, longer than most given the hue of her dragon's hide. But she appreciates the opportunity, and how her arms feel like dead weight. It's a good thing, really! "Does it?" She pants, concern huffed so quickly it could be mistaken for disbelief. "He seems to be doing alright." Each wipe of the towel only begets fresh sweat, an annoyance she's used to by now. Reaching for the water, she offers it to Alida first, "And you? Doing well?" Hraedhyth doesn't react to Ilicaeth's attack, not at first. The gold's pale head turns ever so slowly to aim a stare at the blue, deadpan not only in expression but in the ominous drumroll of her thoughts. As her flames dance, so do the blue facets in her gaze, revealing her threatening posture to be a joke. Does he really want to go there? Yep; both women reek of it! But, given their current worked-out state, neither likely care. A huff of dark humor exits Alida's lungs as her breathing and heart rate slowly decrease towards normal, the blonde replying casually, "He's nearly-addicted ta' workin' out, like me. Those extra duties've gotta be stickin' in his craw right now." Huff, puff. "Thanks, Zay..." A carefully metered sipping of the proffered water is interspersed with much mopping of sweat from her upper body, the weyrling finally passing the skin back to her cohort, then answering, "Standard." Shrug. "I take it day by day, sometimes." Pause, peer. "You?" There's a wealth of unspoken inquiry in the bluerider's single word." Meanwhile, closer to the lake... You can freakin' *bet* he wants to go there! He might not be quite big enough to be able to outright mock-battle with Hraedhyth, but Ilicaeth *is* sturdy enough now to bear up under... « TAG! » A bright, almost fiercely-eager gusting-blast of furnace-hot, golden sands buffets against the gold's entire body, perhaps uncomfortably so, then departs in a whirlwind that dashes out of her range. And down he goes into the water without a single vocalization, the slatey blue of the weyrling dragon's hide disappearing near-instantly as it blends with the color of the lake. « YER' IT! » Through the heavy breathing, Azaylia manages a beaming smile for the weyrling's thanks. If she's watching to make sure Alida doesn't drink too much after working out, well... She accepts the skin with a nod, measured sips similar to the blonde's as she wets her throat. "That's a good way to look at it. Taking it day by day." There's a sudden roar to drown out anything else said, Hraedhyth pushing from the ground to stampede towards the water. Her flames are buffeted by Ilicaeth's gritty winds, worked into a playful frenzy that has the queen chasing after the blue. There's no grace in her splashing footfalls, caution obvious in the amount of time it takes her to reach deeper waters. Ilicaeth has a good, safe, head start. Azaylia wheezes her amusement, looking pained for it and clearing her pipes with another short drink, "Better, considering everything that's happened." That's happening. There's a glance for Alida, smile softening, "To be honest, I was surprised you still wanted me joining you in the mornings." When she can. "Gets tiring, sometimes..." Alida comments through her breaths...the blonde then whipping her head about to stare in small alarm at the roaring, and now splashing Hraedhyth. After a scant moment to touch Ilicaeth's mind, the woman relaxes instantly, giving a husky round of laughter to match Zay's at the state her lifemate's mind is in. "*Some*body's feelin' their oats..." she comments, the humor in the weyrling's aspect slowly quieting when her companion speaks of weightier subjects. "Didn' know a queen could be...have that kind uv' long term viewpoint ta' make *that* kind'a decision." Cue a small wave of one hand upon the air. "A purposely false call." As far as still wanting Azaylia as a sometime-exercise-mate, Alida simply inquires about a faint moue of lips, "Why?" He's got speed and lack of size and coloration on her! And Ilicaeth uses them to his advantage, the blue diving to the middle section of the lake, and sticking to the mix of light and darkness therein as he dares his dam to try and catch him. There's no words for Hraedhyth, only the occasional eddy of hot, golden sands that fiercely blast her hide, and meet up with the gold's flames to spiral only higher, lifted by updrafts. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) Winded and speaking through soft laughter, "He's not so little anymore. If he wants to play, she'll play." Perhaps a belated explanation, coming after the weyrling already understands the queen's motives through Ilicaeth. Azaylia does her best not to look too sullen, her quiet voice carrying the weight of the situation, "I didn't either. I... It's hard to imagine. Hraedhyth wouldn't do anything like that. I wouldn't." The queen in question has finally reached deep enough waters to disappear in her hunt for Ilicaeth. The goldrider pats at her brow once more, hiding behind the cloth as she murmurs, "I expected a lot more people to be angry at me. Weyrlings, especially... You're supposed to be able to trust your weyrwomen." Guilt too obvious, dredging up what could be avoided if she had a mind to. There is no probing from Hraedhyth's thoughts, playing fair in her search for the young blue. Even beneath her second lids, the delighted whirl of blue and green shines through. Ending the hunt too quickly isn't nearly as much fun as passing just below his limbs. So close. Could it be that she really doesn't know where he is? Her own intentions are hidden by a cover of thick, black smoke, swirling with amusement at each strike from his golden sand. (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth) "And he *knows* it..." Alida responds to Azaylia with dark humor. "He can't wait until he's full grown, ready ta' butt heads 'n slam chests with her." Clearly, Ilicaeth is still taken with his mom. With that hint of aggravation about the goldrider comes the blonde's study of Zay, the weyrling's expression carefully neutral, even as she shrugs her sweat-sheened shoulders. The reply, when it comes, is frank, but not harsh, kept low-voiced since they're by the sound-magnifying waters. "All it did was made me realize that some things we thought were absolutes ain't necessarily so." Like dragons being unable to lie. The topic of trust is somewhat differently approached. "Can't speak fer other weyrlings...but it's just another toss in the bucket, in my view. Trust's an individual thing...earned. Not instantly given 'r taken away." Yes! Must play fair, since this isn't life and death! His own throughts are shielded by those thick, grainy gusts of flame-bourne sand, remaining just out of Hraedhyth's reach perhaps due to her own furious heat. It's an expression of finding strength in 'bending' before the delightful 'storm' of his much-larger dam, Ilicaeth utilizing both his own and *her* natural forces to keep out of the gold's clutches. He's much more agile, too, and that certainly can't hurt his efforts...the blue turning on a wingtip when he thinks she might be too close, and darting deeper, towards the shadows. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) There's a subtle wince, "I think Ysavaeth... I think she was special." Judging from Azaylia's discomfort, the gold's uniqueness isn't a positive thing. "But, maybe dragons aren't always tried and true." Though the majority still are honest beasts, or so she hopes. Dropping the towel to rest on her shoulders, she grips the ends and aims a curious glance Alida's way. "Still, if you were angry, I'd understand." No stranger to disappointed riders, so many that the weyrwoman's expectations are far from optimistic. "I'm glad I managed to catch you two today." Excercise is simple, no politics involved in throwing big bags of firestone and all. It must be coincidence, then, when Hraedhyth turns her attentions to the spot Ilicaeth was moments ago. The large queen isn't overly agile in the water, but there is power behind her lazy strokes, propelling her in the same direction as the blue. She's in no rush, wide head turning this way in that as she searches the shadows. There are no attempts made to penetrate those forces that keep them both bound, and separated. (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth) "She's grand-dam ta' quite a few uv' the youngish dragons around here, right?" Alida inquires to those words of Ysavaeth's 'specialness,' the blonde otherwise not speaking of draconic deviance...though she has to smirk thinly over Azaylia's words of anger. "Apparently I'm almost always pissed off about something, according ta' popular opinion. Why not another thing?" Already the blonde is shrugging such off like water off a duck's back, shaking her head once. "I fuckin' loathe politics..." is suddenly clipped off, the weyrling's gaze moving from Azaylia to where the Weyrleaders complex is located. Whew! Missed him by that little! Ilicaeth is surprised by Hraedhyth's luck/astuteness, and with alacrity and some bit of stealth, he uses only his tail and rear legs to propel him along, slowly rising to try and fall behind the queen...shadow her. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) "Hraedhyth's dam." Azaylia confirms with a gentle nod, "Though I don't know how much it matters. Hraedhyth's not like Ysavaeth. Some in this clutch don't take after her..." Ilicaeth being one that does, aiming a fond smile at the lake where their lifemates are playing. "Sometimes intensity can be mistaken for anger." The goldrider speaks from experience, but its never been her own temperment brought into question. With a soft laugh, she holds the half-drained skin out to the weyrling once more, "I don't like them either. I know I shouldn't say that," Being a weyrwoman and all. "I'll do my duty, even if I think a lot of it is... People don't just say what they mean." A fact that she's accepted, if reluctantly. Success! That is, Ilicaeth's success as Hraedhyth glides so far past him that he's able to follow her. His only warning is the faint parting of that smoke, the echo of high, primal cackling that harmonizes with her drums. Only when he's firmly behind her does the queen's head suddenly turn and bare all of those oversized jaws at him in a wicked display. « Tag. » It takes her some time to turn around-- but the jig is up, the game is afoot and she's no longer humoring her stealthy pup. She gon' get him! (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth) "Mhm..." Alida replies casually to that affirmation of genetics, her head turning so she can gaze over her shoulder at the lake which harbors both Hrae and Ilicaeth. "Like Rasavyth." Shrug. Back to the complex goes her intense gaze for a few moments, then lighting upon Azaylia again, the weyrling nodding briefly to the other woman's words of intensity, her lips tipping into a faintly bitter half-smirk. How she *knows*. After taking the water skin again and sipping more of the cool stuff comes a thoughtful, if still clipped, "I don't envy any uv' you" - the heads of 'Reaches - "one stinkin' bit." Nose-wrinkle. "If people said what they meant, meant what they said... it'd be instant knives 'n wholesale slaughter, 'r mass revelation 'n everybody gatherin' around a fuckin' bonfire singin' love songs." Sigh. "But at least we'd all know where we stand." And, even if it *did* end in bloodshed, Alida sounds like she'd prefer such. Noooooooo! He's found out! Instantly, Ilicaeth's youthful howl of upset alters into a growl of intent, something of his dam's ferocity within...the blue not holding back any of his warrior's intensity as he now stalks the gold with firm, unwavering purpose. How dare she humor him! It's not really anger he projects from out of his blasts of scorching, scouring sand, but righteous indignity. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) "Hm? Rasavyth?" Azaylia's smile gains some warmth, "That's what I mean. He thinks differently from Hraedhyth and Szadath. Cadejoth. More like Iesaryth. He could have gotten it from Ysavaeth." Given the light-hearted comparison, its easy to tell that's where the similarities end in her eyes. She listens to the weyrling's account of what things would be like were there only truth, seeming unbothered by the gruesome details. "Be glad you impressed Ilicaeth, then." Since Alida doesn't envy any of those with a metallic hide. Not that it sounds as if Azaylia regrets Hraedhyth, or the duties that come with riding gold. To Ilicaeth, Hraedhyth makes that slow turn so that the two might face off. A snort to clear away the churning black plumes, revealing the pure heat of her flames. Warm, affectionate despite his youthful indignation at a Dam's right to humor her pup. As Ilicaeth stalks her, the warrior gold eases forward and allows herself to naturally slow so that they meet halfway. Her nose bumps his, force lost in the moments she spent casually floating. « You are it. » Muzzle dips underneath him, nudging upwards for a not-so subtle reminder to come up for air. She decides to surface, emptying massive lungs and filling them with fresh air. "Me too..." Alida notes to Zay, agreeing with her...and not saying anything further of the young bronze. To their traded words of the politics of the Weyrleadership, the blonde just has to say, "Wonder how Szadath feels." Shrug. "'R how that one greenrider 'n her dragon felt. Y'know, bein' acting Weyrleader some turns ago." Perhaps her words are a not-so-subtle effort to show Zay that color of dragon only matters when one is a weyrwoman. "You effin' betcha, I am." Cue a faintly sharky grin from Alida. "Can you imagine me on a green, 'r a gold?" Smirk. He's champing at the figurative bit by now, already 'hunting down' Hraedhyth when she pivots about and tags him. The flood of youthful emotion from the blue should remind the gold at least somewhat of herself (and perhaps even Szadath), Ilicaeth growling and rumbling and ready to ignore the queen's wise words... until he feels his own lack of air. Still grumbling, the blue manages to zip up to the surface, and finally gasps in relief as he sucks in repeated, deep lungfuls of air. This time, it's *her* that has the head start on him, given that he has to get his wind back. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) Azaylia's work clothes are pinched and fanned against her body, helping to get the cool autumn air beneath the fabric. "That's a good question." On how Szadath feels, either uncertain herself or unwilling to divulge that much. "A green? Maybe. A gold? If she was able to help calm your more... intense moments." Honest opinion, softened only by the lack of insult meant in her quiet voice. "Then again, I never dreamed..." Another long look aimed at the surfacing dragons, grip on her towel tightening as awe shifts to deeply felt devotion. An emotion most dragonriders are familiar with, or should be. To Ilicaeth, Hraedhyth doesn't take advantage of that head start. Instead, the gold swims in a protective, wide circle around the winded blue in order to keep an eye on him. Low rumbles are of encouragement, happy to play his games before he's stolen by weyrling duties. "What if I'd have Impressed a gold like...Hraedhyth?" Alida further conjectures after Azaylia answers her, the blonde not appearing to have taken anything as in insult. Perhaps something about Zay often seems to quiet the fierce guard at least some. "Ilicaeth 'n I are pretty close in most ways, after all." Quite alike. "Never dreamed uv' Impressing, much less a gold?" How those green eyes watch Zay's dark gaze from their sides. He's into it, now that he's got his air back, and Ilicaeth bugles his intent fiercely upon the autumnal air. Another deep sucking down of air immediately follows the blue's vocalization, and instantly he's launching himself after his dam with all intent. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) Forgive the wince, Azaylia doing her best to recover with a breathless laugh, "If you had impressed a gold like Hraedhyth? I... You certainly seem strong willed enough." The twist to her lips speaks more of that compliment, and she says as much, "Were you two to get angry at the same time? Or, Faranth forbid, at the same thing? No, Alida. I think Ilicaeth suits you best." Just as she suits Hraedhyth best. She's got a nod as Alida finishes her thought, "I was scared of dragons, before. Fainted at watching a bronze feed, once." And now? It takes one more brush of the towel across her face for the weyrwoman to admit, "I need a bath. Duties don't stop just because I'm smelly." To Ilicaeth, Hraedhyth answers him with a savage bellow of her own, aimed at the blue before powerful legs have her paddling away. She'll keep him above the water, if she can, and surely before he tires he'll manage to catch up with his Dam. Somehow. Ferocious in play, even when indulging the blue, there's little doubt that the gold's heart is in it. "Ahh, the brightest of highs...and the fiercest, deadliest 'lows,'" Alida comments to Azaylia's words of the mix of Hrae and the guard in a bond, the blonde giving a razor's slice of a grin for a few moments. "How they c'n change us...and we them...just by bein' ourselves," is noted to the weyrwoman's words of herself once being afraid of dragons. Indeed, Ilicaeth does much better balance his lifemate out with his emotional steadiness and his general geniality. And then the bugle-bellow duet from mother and son are cutting the air, making Alida wince and duck a hint as her ears ring, the blonde commenting to Azaylia, "I wonder if all generations after those two'll be stone deaf by age thirty." Eyeroll. "Think I'll join ya...unless yer lucky enough ta' have yer own bathin' pool." Which, the tone of the bluerider's voice notes, is quite likely. Lucky bitch. One more swipe with the towel of her own upper chest and face are given, and the weyrling starts into motion towards the cavern beyond them, leaving their dragons to their loud and animated chase. It's probably the first time in living memory that a blue's chased a gold. Fie on you! Raaaaar! That's the general gist of the blue warrior's non-deadly but totally earnest thoughts as he uses every 'fair' device he's ever thought of or picked from his human's wily brain to try to capture his dam in this very animated and quite LOUD game of tag. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth) Guilt causes that smile to grow, doing her best not to look too pained, "I do, actually. Ground weyrs tend to have their own baths." The political stress comes with some perks, after all. "I'll walk with you, though." Azaylia offers, retrieving the unused towel before catching up with the weyrling. When they part ways it's with a wave from the goldrider, quickly heading for her own weyr to stop from feeling gross. Meanwhile, Hraedhyth will keep to the blue's games of chase and being chased until duties intervene. |
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