Logs:No Regrets
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| RL Date: 3 May, 2015 |
| Who: Farideh, Ysaera |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Farideh and Ysaera talk after laps. |
| Where: Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Pleasant. |
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| The weather may be shifting on the whole towards the winter months and colder temperatures, but today at least sees the skies free of falling snow. It's cool and nice, and it's an obvious choice for Farideh, dressed in her loose exercising clothes. She appears to have just finished a jog around the bowl, and is now sitting in the dirt, knees bent, her forearms braced on her knees and her hands dangling between them. Her face reflects her exhaustion, but she doesn't show much more than that as she watches other weyrlings make their laps, and myriad weyrfolk attend their daily duties, unmoved by the weyrlings' plight. Ysaera is not one to shy away from the exercises imposed upon them, and when she finally comes to a halt, it's to bend at the waist with her hands on her knees. The long, dark braid falls over her shoulder, soon to be chopped off along with everyone else's long hair. Brushing her hands down her cheeks, the former sea crafter turns and that's when she catches sight of Farideh. "They keep us busy, don't they?" she murmurs, ambling closer to her fellow weyrling. "It's different from the sea craft," she adds, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth, "where there isn't much in the way of running." Intent as she is on the different activities going on around her, Farideh's eyes slant to the dark-haired girl when she stops, and when she speaks, pats the ground beside her. "Come. Sit. I don't think I have the energy to strain to hear anything-- even my ears are sore," she says with more weariness than mirth. "Tell me about it. I don't think we've had much time to entertain each other, but if it keeps Quinlys from breathing down our necks, for now." And speaking of that-- she rubs the dampness at the back of hers, fingers brunching before wiping against her pants. "How is it in the seacraft? I've heard what R'van thinks of his former craft, and Laine of the tanners. You?" With a soft laugh, Ysaera falls down in a loose-limbed collection of limbs that settle into a cross-legged position. "I fall into bed at night and in the blink of an eye, I am up and at 'em again." She toys with the end of her braid, fanning the collected end before shooting the goldrider a thoughtful look. "It is different. The sea is different. No less dangerous in her own way, but you learn different things. I miss it, because the sea is in my blood, but when I Impressed, all of that changed. I suppose it is like having a former lover. You pine for them in ways you didn't expect, but nothing can change what you feel for your new life." The young woman pauses and ducks her head. "Probably more than you wanted to know, eh?" "Is Nykievth anything like the sea? Does she like it, if you like it?" It's certainly a curious question, paired with a musing expression. "No. I have people that I care about sailing on the ocean, now. It's not the same, but I want to know what it's like. They can't even take a proper bath. Do you end up smelling? Does the constant swaying get annoying? What kind of food do you eat? What kind of games do you play, out there? Or is there time for that?" Farideh frowns, brows drawn together. "You couldn't take up the seacraft as a craftrider, right? Especially not actually sailing, but--" There, her lack of insight, stops her from going further. Ysaera pauses for thought, not sure which of the barrage of questions to answer first, so she settles on one she's sure of. "Nykievth is not like the sea, no. She is distant and as mysterious as the sea, but she is different. Stranger. She has no opinion on the sea because she's not seen it," she finishes simply. "I... sometimes you cannot bathe, but you get used to living on the ship and you play card games and dice games. And you eat whatever food the captain brought as supplies." Did she answer them all? She falls silent, and fits Farideh with her own curious look, dark brows lifting slightly. "What about you?" The answers turn Farideh's gaze thoughtful, just before her arms fold on her knees and her chin takes up residence on one arm. "Me? A craft? No, a Hold. It's much like everyone envisions it to be, and I miss it sometimes, but I've been here for three turns now and I can't imagine living anywhere else, now." Her pause between statements is brief. "Roszadyth is-- everything? At once? But she is so much a reflection of my old life. All of those nuances and virtues. I sometimes wonder if she picked them from my memory when she Impressed me." Ysaera is a good listener, letting all that the other weyrling has to say wash over her. She absorbs it like the sea would, but the other's words turn her thoughtful again. "I wonder what causes them to pick us. I miss the sea and sailing, but already I think of here as my home. It is like something inside me has changed. Nykievth is not who I thought I would Impress if I had sat down to think about it, but she is who I know I was meant to Impress. If that makes sense." She drops the dark, glossy braid and winds her arms around her knees. "I spent a little bit of time in a Hold, but only usually long enough to see whatever it was that we were delivering by sea." "Something. They found something." Farideh sounds as though she is trying to convince herself, and less answering the other weyrling's question. "How old were you when you apprenticed? Did you always think you would be a one of them? And what made you choose to throw everything away on the chance of Impression?" She doesn't look embarrassed by her continued stream of question, but remains consistently curious of Ysaera, even if thoughtfully so. "You've embraced it all, then. Hold, craft, Weyrlife." "Something," Ysaera murmurs, stacking her arms on her knees and dropping her chin onto them. She waits a long time before answering Farideh, considering what to say before she commits to saying it. "I was young when I apprenticed. As young as was allowed. I Stood because I was asked, and I don't know." She affects a shrug and looks at the other girl from the corner of her eye. "Something made me stay. It was near the end of Candidacy, and I figured I would experience it and then be on my way." A light huff escapes, as clearly that didn't happen. Considering-- with her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed. "You don't regret it though? Giving up what you had for what you have now?" Farideh's head tips to the side, her full attention, and her eyes, on the other girl. "That's definitely a different take on the whole thing. I wanted it, needed it. Not that I expected-- Roszadyth. A blue would have been just as well." "No," Ysaera's lips twitched into a smile, "I don't regret it. I am sure that we are given no less than we can handle." She says this softly, considering both her position and the goldrider's before pushing to her feet. "If I was destined for Impression, I don't think I would regret it. Nykievth is more than just a change in life's work, she's a whole different aspect of me." She turns her eyes towards the horizon and says regretfully, "And that aspect of me has woken and is very needy suddenly. Have a great evening, Farideh." With a soft smile and dip of her head, she turns and heads towards the green that awaits her. The short-haired brunette's eyes lift with Ysaera. "I'm sorry if I asked too many questions, but there's no doubt that I'll have more before we're through. Enjoy yours as well, Ysaera." Farideh's chin dips down in a nod, but rather than watch the other girl go, she stretches out her legs and leans back, her hands in the dirt; it's back to people watching for her. |
Comments
Faryn (00:28, 4 May 2015 (EDT)) said...
It's nice to see someone in this group who is taking to the change well. <3 She can be *lowers sunglasses* their anchor. ( YEEEEEEEEEAAAAH!)
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