Logs:Waking up to Zaisyreth
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| RL Date: 25 October, 2015 |
| Who: Silva |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Silva's first thought upon waking up after the hatching is her hair, but at least her last is in the right place. |
| Where: Weyrling Barracks, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 7, Month 2, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Darkness still pulses about them, with just the barest hints of dawn crawling above the horizon. But here, in the midst of new life, those feeble rays are not yet realized. Something else is though, as sleep slips away from Silva's mind. A hand reaches upwards to brush against her hair, to sweep it away from her face, but it meets resistance. What? The thought flashes across her mind. There was no way she had left her hair up and went to sleep on it. But obviously she had? Did I get drunk at the feast last night or something? Oh shells, I wonder what else I did... Hand moving forward confirms that yes, another poor choice exists, the makeup dried and cracking upon her skin. "Ewww, Faranth, I need a bath." The moan is quiet, reserved for just her little space. Shifting herself in the darkness she brushes against another form and freezes. Oh no. She didn't. Oh no, oh no, oh no... Panic starts to set in that this time she really had messed up, when the other form shifts. A very not human form. "Oh no." Dismay write itself upon her voice as her waking mind catches up and she remembers. Zaisyreth. Blue. A dragon. It had actually happened. « Are you unhappy? » The question curls itself into her mind, carrying overtones of fresh grass against a sky of brilliant blue. « I was trying to not wake you. » But he's a baby, and curls of emotion seep outwards, full of repressed wants as he tries to not be a burden on the new perfect thing in his life. Instantly ashamed Silva flushes red in the darkness. "No, no, just like, it's okay. Um, are you... hungry?" A shot in the dark, even as Silva can feel the crawl of dirt in her hair and suddenly realizes that there is something under her nails that she really really doesn't want to think about. « A little... if it's okay? » In his attempt to not sound too eager, that hunger shines against the prairie of his mind, lighting up the grass. Pushing herself upwards Silva reaches downwards to scoop up her little blue, and he wraps his neck lovingly about her. Light stretches inwards and caresses against the varied hues of blue that make up his hide shining faintly. Captivated for a moment by the play of shades Silva doesn't move towards the food so nearby. "Shells - you're so pretty. We should get you some oil too. I bet we could make you sparkle." |
Comments
Aleudre (13:59, 26 October 2015 (PDT)) said...
So sweet!
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