Logs:I Don't Care To Go
| |
|---|
| |
| RL Date: 7 June, 2011 |
| Who: Warucori, Xavior |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: After Tom and B'tal leave, Warucori attempts to convince Xavior. |
| Where: Beach, Western Islands |
| When: Day 17, Month 12, Turn 25 (Interval 10) |
  |
| Warucori watches the green take off and can't help but wear a little satisfied smile at the look on the haughty exiles face as they take off. Well, what can you expect? TUrning back to Xavior she answers his question, "We use this fabric because it feels nice and in hot weather, it keeps one from sweating and becoming over heated." She lets out a little breath and admits, "I should find someone who wants to come along. I hope the storm doesn't take you." Xavior is still far too stunned by the disappearance to take heed of her explanation of the seemingly useless cloth. It is her calm that brings about a puzzled expression to furrow the man's tanned brow. He intently stares at her, this kind, confusing woman from an alien world he doesn't care to know - yet he'd know /her/. "What happened to them? Why did they disappear? Are they dead? Where'd they go?" Is she insane not to be startled? Or is he insane for being so surprised? This question presses hard against his narrow skull. Zaxameth creels unhappily when his rider gives up taking 'his' exile. "It's alright Zax honey. No, he doesn't want you to feel his face hair. No, you can't just take him." She talks aloud to the dragon as she walks back to him. It's only when she hears Xavior's voice that she stops and looks over her shoulder, his questions making her eyebrows lift a little, "Dragons go from here, to there....through a space called Between. Which isn't really a space at all, just cold and dark." She smiles though, "They are quite alright, safe and...sound." She tips her head slightly to 'listen' to her dragon if her eyes trailing towards the creeling blue are any indication. There's a smile for the wild man and his fuzzy face, sad though for some reason. Xavior's head cocks as he listens to her talk to the dragon even though he himself can hear nothing. Her sanity is once again brought into silent question. What she says at the end of the conversation with, possibly herself, settles the man somewhat. She won't force him, so relief soaks through the man's soul, expelling a sigh. Then Cori goes and does it again, talking crazy, and this time he decides she's out of her satin-loving-mind. "How can a space not be a space?!" Xavior'd back away if he wasn't already forced up against the rocks. She seemed so sweet too! Warucori can't help but notice poor Xavior's look at her and Zaxameth creels again and scooches towards him before she can say or do anything to stop him. "I know it all seems so strange to you. But I can show you. It's easier if you see it for yourself." A little smile after the fact, so very innocent and sweet, a little sweep of golden lashes over those warm brown eyes of hers. The woman's magic might have worked if it were not for the dragon's progression towards Xavior. Because of this, her charms are lost to the pummeling rain. A warning, "No," is said to the dragon, which is carried over to Warucori with a quick glance. He won't let his attention stray from the advancing dragon for long and a warding hand flies up, while the other digs claws into the stone. Warucori sighs and gives Zaxameth a 'look', this time she's not going to say it aloud, whatever passes between them makes the dragon huff and draw back, turning his back to the exile. Sweeping a hand up through her wet curls she tucks the satin away into the pocket of her jacket again, "Someone else will come and pick you up then." Passing close to her dragon, she rubs his muzzle and the poor dejected dragon creels softly. The preparations for leaving return Xavior to a somewhat more relaxed state, though the fingers still tensely claw the rock, including the hand that dropped once the dragon moved away. Her parting words do not help, and all sign of amicability within the shaggy man disappears in a flash of a glare. They will not take him! "I do not care for your satin prisons. Leave me my rock prison of choice!" There is the faintest hint of remorse for the woman he thought she was and then he edges away, keeping an eye on that monster of the skies as he goes. Warucori's voice is tight and angry as she turns to retort to the man 'escaping'. "No one is being imprisoned. We're going out of our way to help you and offer aid and you just dismiss us." She frowns at him, "The person who comes for you isn't going to be half as nice as I am to 'ask'." But she's not wasting any more time with him, there are others who actually want to get off the rock and somewhere warm and dry. |
Leave A Comment