It was hot and K'tar did not want to wear a damp cloth over his nose and mouth. Unfortunately, the amount of choice he had in the matter was precisely none. Viarth was, this once, determined to remind K'tar of the reasons that the cloth was mandatory. It wasn't all bad though, at least it wasn't too smokey for a walk on the beach.
K'tar set off in good enough spirits, the sky was the closest to blue that it had been almost since the start of the fire, two months previously. The simple act of walking felt good, he'd been riding Viarth all morning, scouting out the current lay of the fire. He really wished he'd been able to find Holt, but his friend had taken to vanishing off into Mau's company, which was great, except that it interfered with K'tar's plans. He'd already ribbed Holt about Mau, just a little, but one ribbing session was really not sufficient.
Cresting a small dune, K'tar paused to take in the sights. There were a couple other beach-walkers, off a little further down, and...
K'tar took off, ignoring the advice that all the Weyr's inhabitants had been given, regarding limiting outdoor physical exertion as much as possible.
"Hey Holt!" he called, careening across the dunes between them.
He had gone for a walk to shake off the ache from the constant smoke. More than once had he wished he'd pushed more to be stationed at Dragon Ridge. He missed the air there. But he had Mau, and for all the discomforts of the already too hot valley right now, that was more than enough.
The sand felt good on his feet, the dark, wet sand that was still periodically washed by the highest waves. He wished the air was good enough for a proper run though. He turned to see someone who had decided to throw the warnings to the wind, and when the figure got closer somehow Holt was not surprised that it was K'tar.
"Hey K'tar," he replied in time, letting the other Rider catch up to him. He supposed they weren't such boys any more. It was still strange seeing his friend and himself as, well, adults. Or whatever they were. Older somethings. Riders, at least. "I thought we'd all been informed about the dangers of running," he quipped as a question formed. "Why all the rush?" Surely it was just K'tar being K'tar, but Holt didn't want his friend's lungs to pay for it.
Well, he was guilty of that. He hadn't exactly been seeking out K'tar. In fact, after the last round of embarrassing and needling Holt had been avoiding him. And not without cause. For no sooner than K'tar had found him again that he asked, well, about it.
"Mau's fine." Holt looked up at K'tar's expression and saw that his answer wasn't quite in the vein expected. So he kept talking as he expected conversations to go. "Smoke's been hard on us. Her more, I think, but she worries about me more, she thinks anyway."
"Fine." He cut him off with a frown. Not this again. They had already done this. Once was enough. He either liked ribbing him too much or he was maybe a little bit bitter about his own lack of a love life.
Or, Faranth forbid, maybe he really was just curious.
...didn't they teach boys anything at Stormy Plains?
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Dec 28, 2013 20:02:09 GMT -8
Grinning wider -- and blissfully oblivious to Holt's final thought -- K'tar continued: "That's all you have to say about it? Just 'fine'? What kind of description is that, anyway? Aren't you supposed to start rhapsodizing about it?"
Walking backwards, K'tar placed his right hand on his breast and faked a swoon. "It was the greatest, most..."
"endless source of K'tar's amusement," Holt finished. With an annoyed look he added, "What, have you been studying as a harper now? Rhapsodies and poetry now, is it?" He sighed and shook his head. "Look, I told you before. It's private stuff. Mau and I are great, and that's all you need to know." Then with a snap and perhaps not enough thought he continued, "If you're looking for more details then go win a Flight yourself."
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Dec 31, 2013 8:17:24 GMT -8
K’tar made no answer to Holt’s questions, other than to toss back his head and laugh. “Gladly would I do so, save that my more experienced friend has declined to provide commentary on his experiences, and so I am fated to fail in all such…” K’tar’s control broke; he collapsed forward, catching himself with his arms on his knees, trying in vain to stifle his laughter.
Finally, he regained enough control to stand up again, though his eyes sparkled still with laughter. “Seriously though, we need to hang out. Are you doing anything after the Wing comes back in for the evening?”
Yes, yes, it's all very funny, Holt thought idly as K'tar carried on. He couldn't help but let a smile through when his friend appeared to lose his balance from the hilarity of it all. They often didn't see eye to eye, but K'tar had stuck by him for Turns since they met and had been a more than decent friend in that time. They'd only gotten in trouble a few times...maybe more than a few times. But, well, as K'tar would say, what else are friends for?
About then K'tar had a hold on his breathing and inquired if Holt was free later that day. Holt paused a moment then replied, "You mean you're not collapsing into bed at day's end like you demonstrated a moment ago?" A joke given, he gave a more serious answer. "I'd like to get away from all this smoke to be honest, even if it's just for a little bit. It's hot, it's smoky, and it's nothing like Dragon Ridge is this time of Turn. A veritable paradise it is, compared to here. Do you have a bit of leisure time to go and take off? Get out of the smoke?" Holt asked, daring to hope. He'd been working so hard, not complaining, trying to make the best of it for those around him. Really what they all needed was a reprieve.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Dec 31, 2013 12:44:08 GMT -8
K’tar gave a bark of laughter in answer to Holt’s joke, but any question as to whether he had heard the rest of his friend’s answer was put to rest by his immediate and enthusiastic response.
“Of course I do. I’d love to get out of this smoke. I have the rest of the day off. It’s gamma section’s turn to fire-scout and carry water.” K’tar paused. “Besides, I want to hear you tell your parents all about it,” he added with a grin.
It should have occurred to him that he could just leave on his own. Holt supposed the reason he was still hanging around the Weyr now was because it was habit. He felt nervous being away from it in its time of crisis...and yet since he had been brought here, one event at a time, there was almost always something wrong.
"...want to go now then?" Holt asked, brushing off the bit about his parents. If he were going to talk to them about Mau, it would be with her there, not K'tar.
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Dec 31, 2013 21:13:05 GMT -8
K’tar was positively beaming. If he’d been willing to admit the truth of the matter to himself, which he was not, he would have had to admit to actually being, yes, a little jealous of the time his best friend was spending with Mau. But this, this made up for everything. Holt’s parents were nice, very nice. Quite like Jatheiron’s parents, in some ways — less vibrant of personality maybe, but nice and friendly all the same.
“Sure!” he exclaimed. This was going to be so much fun!
We’re going to Holt’s place!
In his weyr, Viarth perked up. There wasn’t smoke in Dragonridge-home-of-Holt.
Korith! Yours and Mine are going to Holt-birth-place! With us!
Oh. Viarth. The Blue had been in his own thoughts until the Purple intruded on them. To where? Uh, Dragon Ridge? The surprised, though it wasn't apparent from looking at him, Korith turned his attention to his Rider. ...we're going to Dragon Ridge?
To get out the smoke for a while, if that's okay.
That,- That actually sounds nice. Alright. Good call. Where are we meeting?
"Korith's in," Holt announced with an almost-whoop that trailed off as a cough. "None too soon, apparently." He mirrored to his friend a K'tarish grin. "Where's Viarth?"
Post by Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro) on Jan 18, 2014 20:33:06 GMT -8
“He’s back in his weyr.”
I can meet you in the Bowl.
“Actually, he says he can meet us in the Bowl.” K’tar’s grin somehow got wider. “Come on, let’s go!” He started to run, then turned and darted back over to Holt. Had he been the excited runnerbeast that he seemed to be trying to impersonate, he would have been prancing in place. However, his self control manifested enough to keep him to a quick, high-stepping walk.
Snapping open his wings, Viarth leapt skyward, aiming for the Bowl.