You Should Have Stayed Home [Open] Aug 10, 2012 8:02:19 GMT -8
Post by BlaidDrwg on Aug 10, 2012 8:02:19 GMT -8
Char was soaked, straight through her oiled slicker and deep down into her bones. It was the kind of drenching one imagined to never be dry again after and was made all the more miserable in the humidity. Her shoulders had taken on the hunch that was almost instinctive when one battled the falling droplets though it did little to combat the damage already done. Two candlemarks she'd walked as the rain had poured on, two sharding candlemarks that had managed to turn her already sour mood into something that barely abated as the Weyr finally came into sight.
After submitting to the Weaverhall for transfer paperwork, it had taken more than a sevenday to receive response. Even with their approval it took another sevenday between soothing her parents for leaving again so soon and packing before she had deemed herself suitably ready to travel. Just because the trip was short did not mean that she should be unprepared. It was getting into the rainy season now, with big, fat drops driving at a near constant rate for days on end, leaving roads often impassable until they could be properly shored up. Everything seemed to exist in a state of wet, or dirty, though the more often seen was a combination of the two.
There had also been word regarding the dangers of travelling in the shadows of the jungle, of people within that were capable of horrors most common, honest folk grey gilled to even consider passing by. Lucky then that Char was not most common, honest folk. She may have looked wiry and delicate on a good day, but she had the temper and enough practice slugging to make someone sorry they bothered most other days. That had been the explaination she'd given her mother, after telling her that no sightings of the junglefolk had even occurred near the road had failed. In the end, she was an adult and made her own decisions, but it didn't mean her parents had to be pleased with it. They'd made sure she carried a beltknife, with the understanding that it was "just in case", but she'd yet to even remove it from the sheath on her hip. Instead she was far busier being miserable about the rain.
The plan had been to thread the needle between storms, where the eventual break had to happen in the clouds. Except that it hadn't for two days and finally, rather than arrive late and get a mark against her contract, she'd set out early in the morning. The goal was to beat the humidity before it became unbearable and she'd managed at least that much. One slightly less depressing blip on and overall wash of a day. Hah. Wash. She could use a wash. Oh, Faranth, what she wouldn't give for a wash and a set of properly dry clothes.
It wasn't soon enough by any standards that the stone arch drew up before her and she paused just before, straightening her clothes out of habit more than anything. Not like she could really fix the mud stains on her boots, though her skirt was hiked up high enough that it had escaped most of the icky stuff. Her fingers tightened on the reins of the runnerbeast tromping along behind her, giving a low cluck to draw the creature closer. If they were going to do this, they may as well do it properly.
And so the young woman looked up, shielding her eyes from the rain in search of the watch.