| 79.01.12 | early afternoon | just past the archway towards the beach and near the road to Cliffside | thelifeweaver |
Kh'sol leaned up against the outside wall of the Weyr Bowl. He had finished lunch quickly and even taken with him the last of it that could be carried and eaten elsewhere. Better to be anywhere than in the dining hall these days. Nothing but chatter and anxiety filling the air, not that he blamed them. Certainly the stress put on the Weyr could be easily reasoned. V'lan was dead. But to hear it over and over again, each person's tale and spin, now told over a dozen times each, it make him feel like the dining hall's walls would close in and hold him there forever.
His dark hair rustled with the shake of his head as Kh'sol pulled back from his own thoughts and into his bond with Ornoth. The Brown had been washed at the start of the day and was sunning lazily on the heights, one eye opening on occasion to search for shining hides. He was a predictable Brown, if not a little too dedicated to his passions, not that Kh'sol really minded. So the pair of them rested for that little time they had until the weyrlings would pull Kh'sol back to work. There were plenty of daydreams to consider before then.
Post by thelifeweaver on Sept 4, 2018 14:24:45 GMT -8
Shuffling along the path a Dragon and rather unwilling Rider surveyed the sights surrounding the Weyr Bowl. Having grown oddly tired of the atmosphere which had arisen within the midst of other Riders and its effect upon her own; Tun had taken action. Having roped in an unwitting Dragon Rider into putting both sketchbook and drawing gear she lured R’Thal out into the open but only after eating her fill.
“That was a dirty tactic.” R’thal chided as he followed, she knew it was in jest just as she knew he was relieved to be outside - even for a short time. “Where exactly is it we’re going?” He asked a few moment later.
[smear:#fffa00]I asked one of the other Dragons for a place nearby that you could sketch and was told about an archway.[/smear:#ff3c00:0] The Dragonet replied, noticing that R’thal now stood at her side as the aforementioned arch became visible. [smear:#fffa00]Will this do?[/smear:#ff3c00:0] She asked, channeling amusement across their link to which R’thal sighed.
“Yeah, it will but Tun, can you please not do this again. That book is kind of my life’s work.” He grumbled to which the Dragonet tilted her head. [smear:#fffa00]It's also a very good excuse for sneaking away.[/smear:#ff3c00:0] Tun replied as she arched her neck to get a better look at the figure just beyond the archway. R’thal inwardly felt a pang of anxiety as concern grew over being caught sneaking out.
Kh'sol cracked an eye at the approaching words. A book being someone's life work. He stifled a chuckle. Lot of good it would do him, a book. As they crested the corner of the archway he noticed that it was that weyrling with the flashy dragonet. He felt a sad pang of wishing for a scenario in which the two of them remained the major topic of conversation. Escaping the few who were still set to press questions perhaps. It was still the lunch break yet, no need to trouble them lest they get it in their heads to skip class for swimming.
Post by thelifeweaver on Oct 24, 2018 14:41:12 GMT -8
[smear:#fffa00]The longer you pout the less time you have to draw~[/smear:#ff3c00:0] Tun chided in what R'thal could only ascribe as amusement. As much as he wished to argue with the Dragonet he suspected it was an entirely fruitless effort. Such was the nature of their fusion of mind and it was the very nature of their newly forged relationship that caused the Hunter much consternation.
It was rather ironic issue considering his new home; surrounded by dragons and their respective riders. He’d asked one of the older Rider’s for assistance a day before the attack but such menial task had no doubt be cast into oblivion the subsequent day. Beyond that first attempt R’thal had admittedly been reluctant to persist in his questioning, lest he be drawn into the seemingly infinite abyss his fellows had been consumed by.
[smear:#fffa00]Your moping again. [/smear:#ff3c00:0] With a sigh the hunter relented, retrieving the book from the Dragonet's maw, subconsciously tracing his fingers along its binding as he did. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since his father had given him the book-cover, much less the number of stacks he’d filled before exchanging them for the next.
A pang of concern niggled its way from the back of his mind as he realised those paper-stacks would still be sequestered in a little nook. He hoped they’d remain unharmed until he could convince someone to retrieve them - and given the general mood of the Weyr he suspected it could be some time. A second sigh joined the first and frustration flared across the link, returning R’thal to the now.
"Off ye trot, find a nice place to lay." He said aloud, opting consciously to avoid the use of their bond for communication. Not for any form of ill perceived resistance to it but instead simply because he needed to practice conversation after months of functioning almost entirely on grunts.
Tun gently slapped her tail against her Rider as he seated himself upon the ground. [smear:#fffa00]Not a Runnerbeast.[/smear:#ff3c00:0] She rebutted lamely, turning her attention to finding a site where she might intrude upon her Rider’s sketch and catch the gentleness of the sun; two wherry with one stone.