Logs:Of Leaps of Faith
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| RL Date: 14 April, 2006 |
| Who: Harley, L'sen, Maja, Morowen, Rathin, Shaylar |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 21, Month 4, Turn 7 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 18:24 on day 21, month 4, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring evening. You stride into the candidate barracks. Candidate Barracks(#430RAJs$) This is a large, high ceilinged cavern cut from the rock. There are rows of depressions on the floor, couches for the young dragons who will soon live here. For now, cots have temporarily been brought in for the candidates while they bide their time, waiting for the exciting day when the eggs will hatch. Men keep to one side and women to the other. At the foot of each cot lies a small press for storing clothing and other small items. The cavern has been decorated with old dragon tapestries hung on the walls, their colors slightly faded. A threadbare rug in the middle of the room bears the emblem of High Reaches Weyr, a mountain range in black on a dark blue field. A few low tables, chairs, and pillows have been scattered about the room, and baskets of glows placed strategically throughout the room keep the place well-lit. An opening in the southwest leads out into the Bowl. Contents: Harley Shaylar Candidate Cots Firelizard Perch(#8812JSae$) Obvious exits: Weyrling Training Room Bowl Hands in his pockets, Rathin's posture is somewhat slouched as he comes into the barracks, heading for his hammock with only the briefest of glances towards the other occupants. Shaylar grins and pulls out two cookies. One she tosses across the barracks with fairly good aim, but she doesn't see Rathin, however. Vibrant green eyes look out from under thick, dark lashes in a pixie-like face framed with dark auburn curls. If you can get a smile out of Shaylar, you'll notice a dimple in her right cheek. She's on the short side of petite, standing only five feet in her stockings and doesn't look to be long past the need for teaching songs. At about 14 turns, she's still a little awkward and not quite done growing. Her clothes are bright and simple, a yellow tunic and a bright red sweater with red-brown leggings and plain, travel-worn boots. She wears a polished wooden bracelet inset with carved green jade runners and a matching jade pendant. Harley sits very straight on the cot, her hands lifting to catch the cookie before a startled blink and she realizes Rathin is getting closer to being between the cookie and herself. "Uh" is all she manages to get out. Since Rathin's hammock is right next to Harley's cot, the cookie sails towards him, and by pure reflex he goes to catch it. Eyeing it warily a moment, he lifts the cookie in salute at Shaylar, taking a bite. "Usually I have to do a trick of some sort before I get the reward," he says, glancing towards Harley. A single blonde eyebrow goes up and her lips twitch a couple times before a wry smile touches her lips. "Your welcome." Harley says politely to Rathin before looking over at Shaylar again. "Got another one?" Shaylar can't help a nervous, relieved giggle as the cookie is caught handily, "Good catch. That's trick enough, trust me." She wiggles off her cot and walks over to hand Harley the other cookie rather than risk another near miss. She tilts her head sideways at Rathin, "Have we met officially? I mean, besides over some tedious chore, I mean? I'm Shaylar." Though Rathin's expression is a bit standoffish at first, as he watches Shaylar approach, his demeanour alters slightly - not anything readily noticeable, he just seems to deliberately relax. "Rathin," he returns, with an easy smile. "Probably not. I make it a point to insult everyone in person." Tone just a little wry, as he settles uninvited on the edge of Harley's cot, finishing off the cookie. Shaylar nods, "Well met and most appreciated. I hate hearing insults second hand. The lose something in the translation." She pulls another cookie from her pocket and takes a bite. Harley takes the cookie from Shaylar with a "thanks", that eyebrow arching higher as she watches Rathin. Head tilting slightly to one side, she says "I'll agree with that." Having been on the receiving end of a few barbs. "Still smelling numbweed?" she asks and takes a bite of the cookie. "Uh-huh," Rathin confirms Harley's suspicions, "But only because that wench," his eyes drift tellingly towards Maja's cot near the rear of the barracks, "Rubbed the stuff into my pants." He glances up at Shaylar, shorter than her now that he's seated, "Apparently they do. But if you keep plying me with cookies, I can probably overlook them." His head is tipped, lips twisted slightly as if hovering between amused and mocking. Shaylar follows Rathin's eyes towards Maja's cot and she rolls her eyes. She doesn't ask about the pants rubbing incident, but her eyes are full of curiosity. She shrugs and gestures towards her cot, "I've got a few more. Fresh baked this morning. I traded a couple rounds of replacing glows for breakfast duty. You get the best stuff early in the morning." Harley grins suddenly as she finishes the cookie. Swallowing the last bite, she adds "Shaylar knows much more of the in and outs of getting the 'best stuff' by trading chores here at the weyr." she tells Rathin. "You should see the haul she made for trading stable mucking a while back." You sense Harley leans towards you just a little, whispering "though I might be able to get hold of that key soon. Maybe." Rathin leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, chin planted in his hands. He glances sidelong at Harley, lips pursing quizzically, but doesn't stay seated, as if he has too much unused energy to stay still. He stands again, exhaling sharply. "Aren't you two -bored-? Let's go and -do- something. If I sit here for too long I'll go more nuts than a pregnant greenrider." That last reference is deliberate, judging by the wry smirk that touches his lips. Harley actually snorts and she shakes her head. She stretches one last time before getting up off her cot. "Sure we can." she answers, grinning at Shaylar. "What should we do?" Shaylar hides a grin at the reference to pregnant greenriders and steps back over to her cot, getting herself another cookie. She grins at Harley and there is just the hint of pride in her eyes as she pats the ornate beltknife at her waist. She hmms, "Do something? What do you suggest?" "Something. -Anything-. I just need to get out of here." Rathin's hand gestures vaguely, presumably meaning the barracks, though the intensity with which he states the words could have a larger meaning. His attention swings from one to the other, "You two know the Weyr better than I do. There must be nooks and crannies, places where most people don't go...?" Harley hrms and looks at Shaylar again. "I don't know about any of those. There's the hot springs, but they aren't always empty. There's the diving cliff, same thing. The fishing pond, well, it is quiet over there. You know any place?" she asks, still looking at Shaylar. Morowen has arrived. Shaylar wrinkles her nose, "I'm newer here than you, Harley. The only place I know about is the hot springs, and I've never even been there. The fishing pond is pretty quiet, though..." The weary exhale with which Rathin answers those suggestions is pretty telling. "Does the fishing pond at least have -fish-? Or is it one of those existential things-- wait, diving cliffs?" Shaylar mutters under her breath when the diving cliffs seem to catch Rathin's attention. To distract herself, she waves at Morowen and gestures at her cot, "Cookie and pastries in the bowl, there. Help yourself." Harley nods. "Yes. It's, well, come on out and have a look." and she starts towards the bowl. "Talking about it isn't going to solve anything." Harley walks out to the bowl. Harley has left. "Coming?" Rathin inquires at large, though he doesn't hang around to see if the blase invitation is taken up. You stride out to the bowl. You go towards the lake shore. Harley points. "Up there." and starts up. You meander across the thin strip of land between the main lake and smaller pond, winding through rocks and boulders. As you near the southern bowl wall, the path begins to incline, taking you to a plateau several dragon lengths above the lake against the southern wall. Diving Cliff Soft, resolute, and dreamlike, the day's ending sunlight provides for an eerie gaze across the Weyr, not to the worn, stone steps that disappear into this flat area resting high above the waters below. Huddled families of rocks, boulders and pebbles lay strewn around the edges of the clifftop. The sandy center of the half-plateau seems to have been cleared of any debris and the area provides enough room, sitting or standing, for many people. A small journey to the edge of the precipice reveals the true use of this place. The deep, midnight-blue waters of the lake shimmer below in the dimming light, and the shorn patch of rock near the edge proves that many a person has felt the thrill of a swift flight from this clifftop, only to be enveloped by the chilly waters of the Weyr lake. The evening is obscured by dark clouds. A light hail drops from the sky. It is completely still, no winds blow and the spring air feels a bit nippy. The ground beneath your feet is wet from the last storm. It looks like it might be fun to 'jump' or 'dive' off the cliff into the water. Contents: Harley Obvious exits: Path Shaylar climbs up the winding path from the lake shore. Shaylar has arrived. Morowen climbs up the winding path from the lake shore. Morowen has arrived. Shaylar edges her way onto the half plateau and perches on a boulder well away from the edge of the cliffs. She flinches when a small piece of ice hits her just under the eye, "Ow...ouch. Hail?" She asks this of no one in particular. As soon as they're moving, Rathin seems to cheer up considerably, and he's grinning broadly as they climb the cliff, even with the storm. "A little rain won't hurt you--" he begins, before a chunk of ice hits him, too. "Ow. Now that's just vicious!" Shrugging out of his jacket, he holds it up above his head, venturing dangerously towards the edge of the cliff in order to peer over. Harley is grinning, even as she's pelted with a little piece of ice. Seeing Morowen coming up she waves. "How's your day been, Morowen?" she asks as she settles down on a boulder somewhere between Shaylar and the edge. Morowen walks up the path to the top of the diving cliff, where the other candidates are sitting. Hearing Harley's question, "fine fine, this is a nice finisher to it though, how about you all?" He backs away from the edge and sits down cross legged. Shaylar snorts softly, "At least its small hail. My uncle Peanto got knocked out by a piece of hail the size of a firelizard egg once. Cracked his head open. Did you know head wounds bled a lot? I mean, a LOT." Shaylar is babbling a bit and rubbing at her cheek. Then at her elbow after another 'Ow'. "There's an easy solution," Rathin says, with a gesture to the water below, "To the ice, I mean." His implication might not be all that clear as he glances back at the other candidates. With a wry grin, he steps to Shaylar's side, lifting his jacket a bit higher in order to shelter her as well - though it means stepping in close to her. "You're not the sort that faints at the sight of blood, are you?" Shaylar glances up at Rathin and grins her thanks for the extra shelter, "Blood? No, I don't faint at the sight of blood. Blood, I can handle easily. Nope, bloods not a problem. Well, it could be a problem...but..." She realizes she talking too much and clamps her mouth shut. Harley looks out at what she can see from where she's sitting. Leaning forward she props her chin in her hands. She casts one glance back at Shaylar before looking back out at the lake. "So, are we going to jump, or not? That's the whole idea, right?" Rathin says. Morowen nudges Harley, "Quite the view up here don't you think?" To Rathin, "Go right ahead, I'm not stopping you." Harley chuckles. "You can if you like. It's still a little too cool for my blood. Perfect for catching colds. I'll walk back down the steps I think." and she rises from her boulder. "What about you Shaylar?" Rathin looks distinctly disappointed. "Don't any of you have a sense of adventure?" His eyes drift to Harley, lips twitching a little. "Not the fast way down? I promise to hold your hand on the way down, if you want--" his eyes are gleaming, full of humour. Shaylar's eyebrows raise, "Jump? You mean off the...into the freezing cold water?" She doesn't budge off her boulder. She gives Rathin a look that clearly says he's nuts. She glaces towards the edge of the cliff and you might wonder if its the freezing water or the high jump that bothers her. "That's one adventure I don't think I need to experience." Harley tries to stifle a chuckle and winds up laughing. "Just to hold your hand? I don't think so. I'll admit I might be slightly crazy but I'm not going to catch a nasty cold, if not worse, before a hatching. Shaylar and I will nurse you through yours if you insist on jumping though. Right Shaylar?" she turns her head to wink at her friend. Morowen nods, "And if you need help jumping, I wouldn't at all have problems with throwing you." He grins at Rathin, "How does that sound?" Harley starts towards the steps leading back down. "Oh-ho! In that case, I'm -obligated- to jump," Rathin chortles at Harley's words. "That's every young man's dream right there." Morowen is favoured with a dry, amused look. "And what do -I- get out of that particular scenario?" Shaylar relaxes a bit as Harley jokes about nursing Rathin back to health. Morowen's comment makes her laugh merrily and she jumps up to follow Harley, "You two be careful not to knock each other out. See you at the bottom." Harley leaves the diving cliffs, following the path that winds down towards the lake shore. Harley has left. Shaylar goes home. Shaylar has left. Rathin watches all the females depart, looking wry, before attention shifts to Morowen. "Well, Morowen, looks like it's down to you and me. No one's here to witness - so if you want to throw me off the cliff, now's your chance." He nods pointedly towards the edge, even helpfully stepping a bit closer. Morowen shrugs, "If you want to jump, do it, I won't stop you, but I'd rather not throw someone over a cliff without them asking for it, those rocky ledges look pretty sharp," while mentioning the rock, he's peering over the cliff with his back to Rathin. Rathin steps closer to Morowen, a little bit intrusive, into his personal space. His hands, however, are still busy holding his jacket above his head, as he, too, glances below. "Does this mean I haven't asked for it yet? My heart warms under the overwhelming love." Tone clearly mocking, though it fades, and a note of seriousness creeps in: "You witnessed the incident with Shalyn. She was in the right, wasn't she." Statement, not question, with a quiet intensity that seems unusual for the erstwhile trader. Morowen looks at Rathin eye to eye, "You were in the wrong with what you said, but the way she reacted to it was, in my opinion at least, completely uncalled for. I don't know why you acted in the way you did, but I still dont condone physical punishment appropriate for disrespect." "Dragonriders are above reproach." Rathin counters, head tilted to one side. Certainly not an answer to Morowen's question. "I am a mere candidate." Morowen shakes his head, "I didn't catch the whole thing, but I saw blatant disrespect, which I wouldn't tolerate for anyone, let alone someone of higher rank. You must realize that as a candidate, riders are of a higher rank then you, and disregarding that will just make sure you stay at the bottom of the chain, endlessly repeating this futile arguement that people above you are above reproach. I'm not saying you just just bend over backwards, but showing respect where respect is due will get you farther then harsh words ever could." "Being at the bottom of the chain never bothered me." Rathin says in that droll way that indicates it's something he's said before, and recently. "Perhaps," he muses, "I will show respect when respect -is- due." Morowen does a little glare in Rathin's direction, "What makes you think that Shalyn doesn't deserve your respect. Do you just instantly judge someone as soon as you meet them, and just decide to dislike them no matter what happens? Living like that will just cause conflict whatever you do." "Yes," Rathin says, plainly, laughter audible in his voice. "I judge harshly, but tell me, Morowen: was I -that- wrong? If she'd not been a greenrider, not been what is increasingly clearly becoming a random stroke of fate-- if she was no one of rank, she would've acted the same. The same haughtiness, the same instability, the same -childishness-." Morowen blinks, "And you call blatant disrespect and openly provoking her not to be childish? You may not see the hypocrisy in that, but there's a reason that you are the one looked down upon after this incident." "I never claimed not to suffer from that particular affliction myself." Rathin shrugs, and as the hailing is seemingly easing off, lowers his jacket, though doesn't immediately put it back on despite the chill of the wind. "I see the hypocrisy," he counters, "And sometimes the only way to fight fire is with fire." L'sen climbs up the winding path from the lake shore. L'sen has arrived. Morowen nods, "Yes fire can be fought with fire, but it only adds to the ferocity and only causes more burns. I know that what's done is done, but in future, you should always reflect upon your actions before you go through with them. Acting without thinking will create more problems then it solves, and you should remember that. I don't think any less of you for what you did, but I only hope for your sake you can keep a level head in future confrontations." Rathin and Morowen are standing at the very edge of the diving cliff, having a discussion that is, if not quite heated, definitely intense. Rathin's holding his jacket despite the lingering chill of the passing storm, attention focused on his fellow candidate. "You should think less of me," the erstwhile trader opines, serious. "You really should. As for reflecting on my actions-- life would be boring if I did that. People given too long to think tend to live to regret their hesitations. Opportunity doesn't just wait around for you to decide on what to do." Morowen rolls his eyes, "The oppurtunity to insult others is always what is at the top of my agenda" He sarcastically says. Then, "Theres a difference between quick thinking and no thinking at all." "I haven't been up here in forever," remarks L'sen, pausing halfway to the edge of the cliff to glance backward. Neiveth is below, splashing about theatrically in the lake, and the blue offers an answering brassy rumble up to his rider. L'sen grins hugely at whatever words pass between them, then turns back to continue walking, eyes lighting up as he finds people there. Heedless of the nature of their conversation, he throws in an enthusiastic wave and approached. "Morowen, hi!" he greets the candidate he knows first. "Perhaps it should be." And now Rathin is apparently back to being mocking once more. "Does this mean you had to think in order to -not- throw me off the cliff?" A hand gestures vaguely out, amused, though it lowers as he hears another arrival, half turning in that direction to eye L'sen carefully. No greeting offered just yet. Morowen grins at L'sen "Hey there! How ya doing?", Turning back to Rathin, "Yes I did, the consequences outweighed the gains, so I decided against proceeding with that course of action, I thought about it, ...you should try doing that sometime." "Hi--hey, didn't I meet you, sort of--?" L'sen says, stepping over to the other two men and peering first to Rathin. He cocks his head curiously, then shrugs and turns that grin on Morowen. "I'm good, how 'bout you?" he returns. "Hey, what'd you think of Igen, anyway? Did I do good, or did I do good? Because I ain't never done anything like that before, but then it sounded good, and Deneth liked it--I just wish Te'an had been around, but still--so, um." He breaks off abruptly, perhaps realizing the rambling. "So, what's going on?" he asks then, peering between the two again. Rathin's back to studying Morowen sidelong, a slight tip of his head given. "They'll be no consequences from my end." he promises, voice solemn, soft undertone, "If you don't believe me on that score, ask Maja." He scratches his right cheek, by no coincidence at all. His eyes stray back to L'sen as the rider comes closer, agreeing with deliberate indifference, "Probably." Then, with a slight smile: "Morowen and I were just enjoying the weather. Not to mention the view." Morowen nods to L'sen, "I'm doing great, i'm always happy during a rainstorm. And yes, thanks for taking me to Igen, it was a nice change from the Reaches, I enjoyed it.", looking at Rathin, "Sad the girls didn't want to jump with you?" L'sen glances out over the water and the land below, nodding. "It is nice, innit?" he agrees. "I always did like it up here, I just never get around to coming much, you know what I mean?" A shrug; he unceremoniously settles onto the stone underfoot, knees pulled up and arms looped loosely around them while he glances up at the two older candidates. "I'm L'sen, in case you don't know. Down there, that's Neiveth. I'm glad you liked it, though. It's nice to visit, you know? But I wouldn't want to live there--way too hot. I like the cold 'n' the snow and stuff." He directs the words between Rathin first and then Morowen. "Inconsolable." Rathin's prompt answer to Morowen is accompanied by a hand held to his chest, and a breathy exhale. Of course, the expected grin ruins the otherwise flawless performance. He nods in easy greeting to L'sen, eventually supplying, "Rathin," though his gaze drifts towards the water below, noting the presence of said dragon. "You like the cold?" he echoes L'sen, with a look, "I bet you're real close with Satiet, aren't you?" Maja climbs up the winding path from the lake shore. Maja has arrived. "Satiet?" L'sen's eyes widen, and he nods quickly, still grinning that not-quite-all-there grin of his up at Rathin. He's seated at the edge of the cliff, Morowen and Rathin standing nearby. "Oh, yeah. She's, like, one of my two best friends, you know what I mean? So you know her, too, huh?" "I should've figured." Rathin mutters, eyes rolling skywards. "I wasn't aware she -had- friends." His tone is derisive, and it seems deliberate, given that he glances at Morowen as if to point out his blithe ignorance of the other candidate's advice. He shifts his feet slightly, and a rock goes tumbling over the edge of the cliff, earning another look. Maja seems to be almost reluctantly trudging up the cliff, her eyes fixed on the people she'll run into one she's reached the top. Her arms are crossed and she doesn't appear to be in the most receptive of moods. If the moonlight struck her right, white flour might be seen lightly dusting her sleeves and pant legs. "What are you three up here doing?" she queries once she's reached the top, and she tilts her head to the side. "You're taking up my spot." Rathin offers a mocking bow to Maja. "I'm sure we didn't mean to interrupt your planned moment of feminine introspection. I'll be out of your way as soon as Morowen throws me over." His thumb jerks over his shoulder, towards the water. "I'm afraid it could be a long wait. Would you care to substitute for him?" He holds out his hands, looking at her expectantly. L'sen's brows knit in confusion. "Um. Doesn't... everybody have friends?" he wonders. "I mean, okay, maybe she don't have as many as, say, me, but still. She's got 'em. I think." Then: "Hi, Maja!" he greets the new arrival. "Come to join us? Wait. What? You want to get thrown off? How come?" he wonders, attention reverting to Rathin. Maja immediately raises her eyebrows at Rathin. "Oh," she blinks a moment at Morowen, then immediately strides over to Rathin. "Well, if he won't... -- Does it matter, L'sen?" She stops behind him and stretches her arms behind her back. Morowen chuckles, "Well he did ask or it, so I see no harm in it all." He walks over to the edge and looks down, "Have fun falling Rathin." "Two female nurses await me," Rathin breathes, staring off into the distance and sighing melodramatically. He holds the pose for half a second, before draping his jacket over a nearby rock before he edges back, half a step, until he's at the very edge of the cliff, back to the open space. His gaze is very evenly on Maja. "No consequences from me," he echoes his statement of earlier, grinning. "Come on, vixen, admit it, you'd enjoy it." "Just wondering," L'sen answers Maja with a smile. "Hey, we should all go swimming or something. It's warm enough now, you know what I mean?" He scrambles to his feet and steps closer, leaning over the edge himself and then glancing to Morowen. "It is fun. You ever done it?" he wonders. "We can throw you off, too, you know?" Big smile. Morowen looks at Rathin, "If it's nice down there, I'll come too, but not before you go by the Maja route." He grins mischievously. Maja's eyes are just as level as Rathin's, and though her lips twitch a moment she doesn't say anything. Shrugging off her own coat and tossing it to the side, she glances down at her flour-dusted shirt and hands. Then, with a quick swoosh of her arms, she tries to grab Rathin around the middle and fling them both off the cliff using her weight. "Hell yes," she'd enjoy it. Rathin's still watching Maja, and as she steps closer, he grins widely. He was close enough to the edge that even a tiny push would've sent him over. With Maja's weight thrown against him, he immediately disappears off the cliff, and a delighted yell can be heard as he falls down, and a few seconds later, a splash can be heard below. Morowen blinks, then strides back from the edge, "Here's to taking a page out of Rathin's book." He walks all the way back about a dragons-length, then twirls on the spot. "L'sen, if I start drowning, get Neiveth to save me please." He takes a running start at the edge, "Goodbye cruel world" and plummets down landing with a splash. Morowen looks around, then jumps off into the water. Morowen has left. You propel yourself off the cliff and do two and a half flips in the air.. landing upside down in the water! Swimming back to the surface, you cough and try to get rid of the water you've inhaled. Lake, High Reaches Weyr As the cold water of the lake surrounds you, it takes a few moments to become accustomed to the chilly but refreshing water. The Seven Spindles tower above you, their jagged peaks reflecting on the surface of the deep blue water to give an impression of depth as great as the bowl is high. That impression is not far off, since at the center, the lake is easily deep enough for dragons to swim, splash, bathe, and even dive out of the sky. The even lapping at the shore of the lake can be a soothing sound, and riders, residents, and visitors often come to the lake to float on their backs in the calm center, suspended in the reflection of the sky as though they were dragons flying over the Bowl -- as long as their peace isn't disrupted by firelizards, dragons, or rambunctious youngsters cavorting in the waves, their laughing shouts or happy warbles carrying over the water to echo off the surrounding cliffs. Contents: Morowen Obvious exits: SHore Maja plumets into the water with a scream and a giant splash from above. Maja has arrived. L'sen plumets into the water with a scream and a giant splash from above. L'sen has arrived. Morowen shivers uncontrollably, "Brrrr, this water is frigid, I'm gonna go back to the barracks and get some dry clothes." Morowen has left. It takes some time for Rathin to resurface, given how far into the water he actually goes. He whoops delightedly, pushing wet hair back from his face before he casts around for the others. A grin is given to the departing Morowen, and though the water -is- cold, he lingers, making sure the others made it okay. On the cliff, laughing, L'sen watches Maja, then the flight of Rathin, and finally Morowen. "Yeah, sure! Hey, wait! Don't everybody leave me!" he yells down. Then, with a whoop of his own, he takes a leap into the water and comes up snickering still, though sputtering water in the meantime. He rakes a hand through his now-dark blonde hair, pushing it back. "It's not /that/ bad," he tells Morowen then, smirking. "But hey, see you later." Neiveth, having watched the four jumpers from further out in the lake, turns speculatively eyes from the diving cliff to the water again, rumbling and paddling closer. Maja lets go of Rathin once they hit the water, and ends up surfacing three or four feet away from him. Her hair is plastered to her head and her clothes tangle up in her paddling. While she's not laughing, she does have rather worrying smile on her face. "And Morowen wouldn't do that? It wasn't hard. -- L'sen, you could've just given him a shove." "He has morals, vixen." Rathin laughingly replies as he paddles to stay afloat. "A lesser man would've given up." He's pointedly looking at Maja as he says that, too, bobbing in the water. L'sen, too, is eyed with some amusement. "You must be pretty cold-blooded if -this- is not bad." "He came," L'sen notes, pointing off toward the rest of the bowl, where Morowen headed. "Right before me. Didn't have to throw him or nothing. I coulda took 'im, though." Nodding sagely, he snags Neiveth's foreleg as the blue starts past, stopping him. "Oooh, no. You'd like, drown us all or something if you tried that," he tells the blue, eyes widening. Neiveth, sulkily, stills, though from the way he keeps looking upward, he's not given up on the idea forever. L'sen, though, isn't worried; he just shrugs to Rathin. "I guess so? I dunno, maybe I'm just used to it. I'm from here--okay, well. The Hold, actually--High Reaches Hold, I mean--but. It ain't /warm/, exactly, but it's not nothing I can't handle, neither." "Didn't I tell you to quit calling me vixen?" Maja avoids the subject of her morals. She's doing fairly well keeping herself afloat, and her head only bobs up and down every few seonds. "I have no trouble with the water, either. It must be sensitive skin on your part, Rathin." Neiveth is given a brief visual inspection. "What's he want to do, L'sen?" "You certainly did, vixen," Rathin cheerfully agrees with Maja. Ripples in the water all around him are indication enough that he's shivering in the water. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm off to be nursed back to health." He swims for the shore, with the stroke of someone who doesn't swim regularly but can get by when they do. You wade out of the lake, and stride up onto the shore. |
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