Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Dec 10, 2012 18:47:00 GMT -8
74.11.14|Evening
It had been one of those rare good days that can occur even during the middle of an exceptionally bad rainy season. As evening came on, the wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of fish, and salt, and water, and those hundreds of other scents that, rolled together, make up that smell that is identified with the ocean. The air was already warming, the promise of the coming summer hanging in the heat of the air, and the wind still carried with it the warmth of the afternoon Southern sea. Not that Mobrey had ever been out at sea, but he’d heard it described by people at Gathers, Harpers and Fishers and those who had been.
Settling down into his seat on Palavaris’s broad back, Mobrey shielded his gaze with one hand and stared out at the horizon, where the sky met the waves. It wasn’t often that he found himself in a mood like this, more desirous of quite, serious thought than of play or fun, but it still happened on occasion.
Sometimes, at times like this, Mobrey thought he remembered the sea, that the rolling of a ship as it crossed the waves was something he had actually experienced, instead of only hearing described. He would have to have been really young though, because he knew he’d been around Melisong for at least a couple Turns before being adopted… Shaking himself, Mobrey turned his mind back to contemplating the happenings at the Weyr. It wasn’t his job to do so, he’d gone along just to “expand his horizons” before choosing to stay with the Caravan, but it gave him something to do with his mind.
His eyes landed on the beach, and he decided that he’d thought about stuff for long enough. The tide was coming in, and Palavaris wanted to run, and… Giving the powerful runner his head, Mobrey whooped as Palavaris took off like a shot for the beach, and then raced along the edge of the surf, water splashing his legs as he ran along the shore, reveling in the moment even as did Mobrey, who was waving enthusiastically to those ships that were coming in to the dock.
Several ships, larger than the rest, were pulling up amid cries that Mobrey, from time spent near Stormy Plains, recognized as the sound of herdbeasts being driven. The ships had what looked like the emblem of Stormy Plains Hold…
Mobrey slowed Palavaris to a stop and turned him, using only his seat, peering at the ships to get a better look. It definitely looked like that emblem. Right at that moment, the docks were cleared and the ramps that led to the cargo holds of the ships were let down. Herdbeasts came lumbering out, bellowing their disapproval for the sight in front of them. They were accompanied by men on runnerbeasts, who kept the large herd moving with cries and the occasional crack of a whip.
One of the herdbeasts broke away from the rest, and the man at the rear of the column turned, and, seeing Mobrey, called out: “Hey, boy, get in front of that one and drive it back in!”
Mobrey indicated that he’d heard with a wave, and set Palavaris to drive the herdbeast back. It took more work than it might have for one of the men with the column, but then, their runners were trained to the job, while Palavaris was not. They did get the herdbeast back into place though.
“Ho, Famoran! Is this the tithe to the Weyr?”
The man who’d told Mobrey to bring in the errant herdbeast laughed. “Got it in one, Ser Ralt!” he called back, grinning. Glancing over at Mobrey, he added: “We might need an extra rider to the Weyr. Would your parents be ok with you coming with?”
Mobrey grinned back. “I’m staying at the Weyr now, sir,” he said, adding the last because he wasn’t sure what this man’s rank was.
“Well, in that case, would you mind helping out?” the man asked.
“Not at all,” Mobrey replied. He waited a second, then sent Palavaris forward, to fill an overlarge gap in the runnerbeasts.
————
As they neared the Weyr, the men picked up the pace. They seemed to be anticipating something of amusement, for they were smiling broadly. Their arrival was clearly anticipated, for there were no dragons in front of their line of travel. However, there were dragons behind them, what looked like the some of the older Weyrlings and younger riders, although there were older ones there too.
Right then, Famoran gave a shrill whistle, one that was echoed by the two firelizards that flew over his head. The runnerbeasts were pulled back into a line that formed a funnel leading to the pens where the herdbeasts were kept. As soon as the funnel was formed, several of the dragons dived, startling the herdbeasts into a full bore run. The runners stood calm, evidently they’d seen this before, and the two men on either side of Mobrey quickly helped him contain Palavaris, though the half-draftstock runnerbeast’s eyes were rolling.
It had been one of those rare good days that can occur even during the middle of an exceptionally bad rainy season. As evening came on, the wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of fish, and salt, and water, and those hundreds of other scents that, rolled together, make up that smell that is identified with the ocean. The air was already warming, the promise of the coming summer hanging in the heat of the air, and the wind still carried with it the warmth of the afternoon Southern sea. Not that Mobrey had ever been out at sea, but he’d heard it described by people at Gathers, Harpers and Fishers and those who had been.
Settling down into his seat on Palavaris’s broad back, Mobrey shielded his gaze with one hand and stared out at the horizon, where the sky met the waves. It wasn’t often that he found himself in a mood like this, more desirous of quite, serious thought than of play or fun, but it still happened on occasion.
Sometimes, at times like this, Mobrey thought he remembered the sea, that the rolling of a ship as it crossed the waves was something he had actually experienced, instead of only hearing described. He would have to have been really young though, because he knew he’d been around Melisong for at least a couple Turns before being adopted… Shaking himself, Mobrey turned his mind back to contemplating the happenings at the Weyr. It wasn’t his job to do so, he’d gone along just to “expand his horizons” before choosing to stay with the Caravan, but it gave him something to do with his mind.
His eyes landed on the beach, and he decided that he’d thought about stuff for long enough. The tide was coming in, and Palavaris wanted to run, and… Giving the powerful runner his head, Mobrey whooped as Palavaris took off like a shot for the beach, and then raced along the edge of the surf, water splashing his legs as he ran along the shore, reveling in the moment even as did Mobrey, who was waving enthusiastically to those ships that were coming in to the dock.
Several ships, larger than the rest, were pulling up amid cries that Mobrey, from time spent near Stormy Plains, recognized as the sound of herdbeasts being driven. The ships had what looked like the emblem of Stormy Plains Hold…
Mobrey slowed Palavaris to a stop and turned him, using only his seat, peering at the ships to get a better look. It definitely looked like that emblem. Right at that moment, the docks were cleared and the ramps that led to the cargo holds of the ships were let down. Herdbeasts came lumbering out, bellowing their disapproval for the sight in front of them. They were accompanied by men on runnerbeasts, who kept the large herd moving with cries and the occasional crack of a whip.
One of the herdbeasts broke away from the rest, and the man at the rear of the column turned, and, seeing Mobrey, called out: “Hey, boy, get in front of that one and drive it back in!”
Mobrey indicated that he’d heard with a wave, and set Palavaris to drive the herdbeast back. It took more work than it might have for one of the men with the column, but then, their runners were trained to the job, while Palavaris was not. They did get the herdbeast back into place though.
“Ho, Famoran! Is this the tithe to the Weyr?”
The man who’d told Mobrey to bring in the errant herdbeast laughed. “Got it in one, Ser Ralt!” he called back, grinning. Glancing over at Mobrey, he added: “We might need an extra rider to the Weyr. Would your parents be ok with you coming with?”
Mobrey grinned back. “I’m staying at the Weyr now, sir,” he said, adding the last because he wasn’t sure what this man’s rank was.
“Well, in that case, would you mind helping out?” the man asked.
“Not at all,” Mobrey replied. He waited a second, then sent Palavaris forward, to fill an overlarge gap in the runnerbeasts.
————
As they neared the Weyr, the men picked up the pace. They seemed to be anticipating something of amusement, for they were smiling broadly. Their arrival was clearly anticipated, for there were no dragons in front of their line of travel. However, there were dragons behind them, what looked like the some of the older Weyrlings and younger riders, although there were older ones there too.
Right then, Famoran gave a shrill whistle, one that was echoed by the two firelizards that flew over his head. The runnerbeasts were pulled back into a line that formed a funnel leading to the pens where the herdbeasts were kept. As soon as the funnel was formed, several of the dragons dived, startling the herdbeasts into a full bore run. The runners stood calm, evidently they’d seen this before, and the two men on either side of Mobrey quickly helped him contain Palavaris, though the half-draftstock runnerbeast’s eyes were rolling.