Logs:Message
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| RL Date: 25 April, 2015 |
| Who: Z'kiel, Ahtzudaeth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Messages are delivered. |
| Where: East Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 8, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Clear. Mostly. |
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| Tephrasth's touch was a rush of heat and Ahtzudaeth chuffed in response. The young bronze relayed: « Tephrasth says that he and Kasdeja will be arriving shortly.» Z'kiel grunted and pushed off of his cot. "Which direction?" « East, of course. » That was where they waited. The sun-bleached hide of Tephrasth was unmistakable. The brown manifested overhead and dropped into a sharp descent to land neatly some distance away. All skin and bones. Small. Z'kiel realized he'd never really seen the brown before, for as often as he'd looked at the beast. He was a narrow stretch of desert given wings, sallow and striated and sandstone-hued. From what Ahtzudaeth told him, the resemblence stretched into the span of the mind as well. And then there was Kas. She was tall, dark-haired, and pale-eyed; Igenite through and through. "Letters here," she said in lieu of a greeting. She held up a handful of letters and offered them over. He took them and patted his pockets. "I have a few, too." She raised an eyebrow. "Your parents are visiting next week." One of his eyebrows angled skyward. "These are not for them." Tephrasth reached out, but only to briefly touch noses with Ahtzudaeth. For a fleeting moment, Z'kiel shared in a strange rush of satisaction - but it was there and gone in a heartbeat. Kas snorted and leaned back against the skeletal brown. The handful of letters were shuffled through, until she stopped at one in particular. "You know she won't read a word you write," Kasdeja continued. "I'm not asking you to make her read them." "No, but you are wasting your time." "Am I," was not a question. She pulled a face. "I mean, you should be focusing on your lessons. Let her go." Z'kiel opened his mouth, but Kasdeja was quick to add, "For now. Just... for now." He sucked his teeth and looked away. Ahtzudaeth pressed his muzzle into his hand in a comforting gesture that he didn't know he needed. « All things in due time. » And all Z'kiel could do was repeat those words in his head. Aloud: "Just make sure the letters are delivered." A beat. "Please." Kasdeja snorted. "So little faith." He said nothing. The brownrider flapped a hand and stowed the letters away. She mounted up on the pale brown easily and started to hook herself in. "Clear skies, Zak." Z'kiel grunted. "Clear skies, Kas." The elder brown took to the skies - and the weyrlings returned to their barracks. Z'kiel sat on the edge of his bed, the stack of letters in his lap while Ahtzudaeth poised himself on the floor nearby. He rested his head on the bed, one set of lids shut and another set just barely starting to. The letters were long; their message was short: We're proud of you, but when are you coming home? |
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