Logs:Toren's Lullaby
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| RL Date: 24 April, 2012 |
| Who: Toren, Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Azaylia suffers from a bit of insomnia, and Toren manages to help. |
| Where: Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 6, Month 8, Turn 28 (Interval 10) |
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| Inner Caverns, High Reaches Weyr Within the labyrinth of interconnected chambers that make up the inner caverns, this large, long cavern serves both as a crossroads and a comfortable place for weyrfolk to sit, talk, and keep a nosy eye out for who's going where. Colorful, seasonal tapestries add warmth to the smooth walls and reduce echoes, while large niches house clusters of chairs, and a waist-high stone shelf along one wall provides a perch for drinks or work for residents on the go. Worn brass hooks often hold jackets or other outerwear with workboots stationed beneath, the transitory nature of the cavern lending itself to being treated as a sort of communal foyer where snowy or muddy gear can be kept outside of living quarters. Smaller, higher niches at regular intervals hold glowbaskets kept fresh during the daytime and allowed to dim somewhat at night. The largest tunnels lead to the main living cavern, to the bowl and to the Weyr entrance, but it's still easy for the uninitiated to get lost within this maze.
Azaylia stifles a delicate yawn behind a not-so delicate hand as she winds through the inner caverns of the weyr. There's an obvious weariness about her, steps not as steady and quick as they usually are. Oversized coat hangs from her shoulders despite the fair weather outside, using it more as an impromptu robe as it seems the Beastcraft apprentice is in her jammies. Ankle-length, baby blue nightgown falls still as Azaylia slows, pausing nearby to give Toren and his guitar a curious glance. Toren gives a friendly polite smile to Azaylia as she ccomes in and he nods to her, "Good evening." He continues to place, "What brings you out and about this evening?" He asks as his fingers move over the strings. Azaylia hesitates only as long as it takes her to place the boy's face, and then a gentle smile is offered in return. "Oh, hello. It is a tad late, isn't it?" Quiet voice struggles to be heard above his strumming, and she takes a few steps forward to make it easier on his ears. "Having trouble sleeping, I suppose. Uhm. And I thought maybe I could get a scrap of hide from the stores." She ducks her head down, tentative in her next question, "Isn't it past your bedtime?" Toren smiles, "It's never too late to play and even riders that are on sweeps late need some entertainment." He lowers the volume of his strumming so he can talk and hear Azaylia. "I'm often up late it's the best time to practice and take baths." "Oh, but..." Azaylia gently oversteps her bounds, "A growing boy needs a good night sleep. You do get enough rest, don't you?" She catches herself and simply gives bashful smile, eyes closing as the young woman mentally scolds herself. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you're a very responsible boy. Have to be, to be a Harper..?" Eyes open and drop down to his fingers, watching them pluck at the strings. Toren chuckles a little bit, "Well thank you for thinking of me. I do get all the rest I need the healers say I'm as fit as a fiddle." He nods, "My name is Toren and I am an apprentice Harper. Do you have any songs that you'd like to hear me play? What is your name?" Azaylia blinks in polite surprise, head bowing once more. "I thought I had recognized you..." With a soft nod, she insists. "Oh yes, we have met. If only for a moment, so it's alright if you don't remember my name. I'm Azaylia." The beastcrafter reintroduces herself, fingers reaching up to tuck a long lock of hair behind her ear. A glance is given in the direction she was heading in moments ago, and instead she offers another smile towards Toren. "Do you know 'Sweet Sea'?" Toren switches from the aimless tune that he's playing to the sweet sea, "Yes I do. I thought that was your name, but I didn't want to call you by the wrong name. That would have been very bad." He continues to play, "So what has you up and about late?" Another yawn is stifled, eyes keeping closed even after the fact as she listens to the familiar, wistful tune. With a hum that's similar to one of the chords, Azaylia looks back to the young Harper. "Good thinking, wouldn't want any hurt feelings." A sigh, heavy with her fatigue and perhaps a touch of frustration at her predicament. "Just a touch of insomnia." She repeats. Toren nods a little bit, "Yah I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings." He continues to play, "Have you tried some warm milk. I find it disgusting myself, but some aunties swear by it." "Hmm. Maybe I should stop by the kitchens on my way back to the dorms?" Azaylia muses aloud, though rather than do such a thing she finds herself sinking into a seat next to Toren. Nightgown does it's job in keeping the young woman modest, as does the oversized coat. Nestling into the cushioned seat, she gives a content sigh, "You don't mind, do you?" Manners are remembered a moment too late, a testament to how tired she must be. Toren smiles as he finishes the song for Azaylia, "No I don't mind. I'd be happy to stay up with you until you are ready to head to bed." He puts the guitar to the side and stretches out. "Thank you but the way for letting me come watch the births of the foals it was amazing." Hands emerge from the shelter of that ragged coat, giving a polite clap that matched her voice, "That was lovely... thank you." Her elbow finds the armrest, cheek pressing against her knuckles, heavy eyelids falling once more. "You're very welcome, Toren." The words are genuine, though she can't seem to muster up the typical energy found when speaking of her craft. "The foals are doing very well, by the way. They've gotten..." Yawn. "-so big." Toren smiles, "That's good to hear. You are very welcome." He gets up and stretches. "Care to join me for a late night bath? A hot bath and massage might do the trick." Azaylia will most certainly feel awful when she wakes the next morning. Lulled by Toren's strumming and the calm, friendly atmosphere, the young woman has fallen asleep in the middle of their conversation. Arm tucked under her head, oversized coat now acts as an impromptu blanket as the Herder's breathing becomes deep and rhythmic. She'll likely wake up within the Inner Caverns, mortified but at least well rested. |
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