Logs:Expectations Realized
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| RL Date: 19 October, 2014 |
| Who: R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: The day after the storm, old memories resurface. |
| Where: Leiventh's Ledge; Somewhere Remote |
| When: Day 14, Month 1, Turn 36 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Satiet/Mentions, Aishani/Mentions |
| OOC Notes: References to a long ago event. |
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| In his brief sleep, his dreams were filled with a violent ocean, the storm manifest into something tangible, so much so that he could taste the sea's salt when he awoke. Or so he told himself. He'd fallen asleep curled against Leiventh's side, and the usually statuesque bronze twitched unusually in his sleep. R'hin stared, reminded oddly of the night of his Impression, of staring down at a sleeping Leiventh over twenty-seven Turns ago; a much younger, determined Rathin shocked at the thought of Impression, at the raw, guilty feeling he'd made a mistake he could never turn away from, and bitterness, for the same. "Leiventh sleeps well?" The voice made him jerk, moreso for the fact that it was in his head. The voice of his Weyrwoman. He could smell the scent of Satiet's perfume, feel the touch of her fingers against his skin as she asked: "Leiventh knows you well. I do not. But Leiventh, will he understand your guilt too, as I may?" He don't know why he thought of her. He didn't know when Leiventh awoke, only that the bronze was looking at him, the dragon's eyes dull. The bronze didn't voice the thought aloud, but suddenly the image of a distant jungle was in his mind, and without preparation -- no straps, no riding gear -- R'hin climbed onto the dragon's neckridges, and they were in the air. He could taste the salt of the sea, and it froze against his cheeks as they went between. It was familiarly, comfortingly warm when they emerged above jungle, far from the sea. They were alone, which surprised him -- it wasn't to the that familiar mountain and their remote camp that Leiventh angled, but a more private spot. He dropped into the clearing, in a patch of sunlight, and within moments was asleep. R'hin stared at him for a long time, then finally stirred himself to movement. It took him a few minutes to locate the stash, now under a pile of loose dirt and leaves, but the box was untouched, and the bottle inside the same. When he'd lost his Weyrwoman, they'd come here, a lot. The box had contained bottles then, not just a bottle. He'd fallen down a hole, or perhaps more accurately, let go, and pulled the dirt in after him -- but he'd always felt the anchor of Leiventh's presence, warming him every time he came to consciousness, however briefly. His hand brushed the curve of his dragon's nose, exhaling. The soft pop of pressure as he opened the bottle didn't stir the dragon. He could barely feel Leiventh; he was like a dull, distant thrum, the ghost of a zephyr in the distance. He sat down and made himself comfortable, leaning against Leiventh. "Until you forget, my old friend, I'll forget for you." And he drank. |
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Comments
Azaylia (01:36, 20 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
Wonderful. And a glimpse at how R'hin really thinks, when it comes to his lifemate-- and dragons in general. Loved this vignette. :3
Roz (09:20, 20 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
I really enjoyed this!
Satiet (23:03, 26 October 2014 (EDT)) said...
<3
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