Do you remember (what I told you)?

[Kaya]

| 3077.06.15 | Remote hills outside of Shimmer Bay |

The uneasy rocking of the goats told the herders to look up. Brown dragon. Ornoth circled the sloped hills, Kh'sol picking a spot. In a surprising show of common sense, Kh'sol had Ornoth land some ways off. They had no emergency cargo or startling notes today, and he had cared for these easily frightened animals once.

Still can't believe this was you, Ornoth commented, leaning around to look at Kh'sol on the grassy ground. One of his shoes sunk in a little farther than the other, mud starting to stick. Ug.

It wasn't so bad as you imagine it to be. Goats isn't dragons, but not everyone gets dragons.

You did. I can't believe you're walking to whole way.

Suck it up, it's not like you're the one doing the walking.

By the time the tents were in sight Kh'sol knew he'd be spending some time cleaning his shoes to keep folk from asking questions. More work. He frowned and pushed up the slope to the camp. He said his hellos and niceties, which aren't so bad when they're your family you haven't seen in ages. He shot a slide long look at the young woman whose eyes had been following him through the welcoming crowd. His sense of heroism gained a couple more pounds.

And when he arrived to the healer's tent, K'rad looked like he had gained pounds too. Whether or not that had happened in a few days was not for the utterly uneducated young man to say, but it was certain that the other lad looked considerably better for a few days rest and doting care. Family of any distance was close kin in these hills.

"Wow. You don't look like you about to shuff off," Kh'sol commented in greeting. He thanked the healer for the walk over and asked for a moment alone with his 'family', and got through it with a straight face too. Not bad for his skills, not bad.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K’rad had, once before, experienced being completely helpless in healer’s hands. This time, though, was harder, because these injuries, or most of them, at least, had happened at the hands of men, not at the whim of a blast of fire. It helped here, at least, that there was only one healer. Helped by a few others, but he’d learned, even after a few days, to recognize them, to recognize their scents, the sounds of their voices, the way that they moved.

A new movement, a new pattern of sounds, attracted his attention, woke him up, opened his eyes (a habit from his more recent experiences, where a failure to appear alert only attracted more trouble). The young man he looked at though… that face was familiar, and the voice, the accent… This was the young man that had saved him. The question though…

K’rad looked up, silent for the longest time, not quite sure if he trusted his memory not to be playing him false. So many dreams, so many nightmares. Was he really yet awake?

“How’s Cyan?” he asked.

[Kaya]

"Peachy." Kh'sol quipped, ducking onto a little chair. Of course everyone was still rather shaken from the attack on the Weyr, but the days went on and there was work to do, much to be put back in order. He had a moment to slip away but not overly long. He was seldom missed around the Weyr, he'd worked to make sure he was about as forgettable as someone that handsome could be. Ornoth chuckled.

"You been for a walk yet? Or we gotta talk quiet?" Kh'sol asked, eyeing the flap of cloth that functioned as a door.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Relief, gladness that Cyan was ok. It was on the face, had been there when the young man talked to the healer, this was no expert in lying. The odds were heavy than, that Cyan actually was ok. Then the man sat down, sat down and spoke once more.

K’rad swallowed, tensing just a little. Trust. Strange, how fast your own species could lose it. “Quiet works better,” K’rad answered quietly, neutrally. “I’m not that stable yet, don’t think I could walk far.”

[Kaya]

"Fair enough," Kh'sol shrugged, settling in on the chair. "So as is obvious, I'm doing much better than you and I can walk. So don't try something 'make me regret pulling your butt out of that pit in the ground." He rocked his heels and stared through a few stray dark hairs at K'rad. "Good. These folk here are my family. You don't get them in trouble, you get to keep living the nice life. You don't tell them the details, you don't tell 'em nothing you don't gotta. You're a Weyrfolk simple, some worker that got hurt in the fighting." Now that the rescuee was lucid enough to get the details they needed to stick. That and he hadn't been able to find some time to get out here before now.

"Sick beds were too full, an you were in a bad way, so I brought you here to family as Cyan's your sister, and my she's my girl," Kh'sol explained matter of fact. This was their cover. Nothing seemed out of place with his family, and K'rad would leave it that way. Or there'd be trouble (well, more of it). But so far so good. And on the whole Cyan seemed a happy camper, not that he'd seen her much of late.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K’rad stayed still, didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to make of the statement that the man used to open things with. He had no intention of harming this man, and while he acknowledged the caution, even respected it, there was a part of him that interpreted the statement as a threat, an immediate threat, and he pulled his shoulders up a little, his chest caving in in an instinctive attempt not to look dangerous, not to look like he was ‘asking for it’. He wasn’t asking for it, he wasn’t being insolent, a mental flick of attention over his frame, his posture, but nothing was out of place…

K’rad’s heart slowed back to normal as the explanation continued, though he had to fight with his face to keep from reacting to the claimed relationship between the young man and Cyan. It was a great cover though, he had to admit that much readily, and indicated his understanding with a cautious nod.

“I’m random Weyrfolk, Cayn’s brother. Here because sick beds are full and Cyan’s your girl,” he summarized, much as he would have summarized for his masters in the syndicate, to show that he understood what was being asked of him.

[Kaya]

"Good. You'll do good," Kh'sol relaxed, leaning back on the stool. He had no awareness of K'rad's subtleties. Not his specialty. Lad's reaction was just a little stiff though so he added, "Don't look so, they had you, you know, away. Gotta 've been for something. So's I remind you to behave. But ya got the story now. That's my bit. They ain't on to what happened. And you look to be healing well enough." The speech and the hills and the breeze flapping at the edge of the tent beckoned a return back outside. There were pieces of this life he missed. Irritating bit that, K'rad not being healed well enough to go outside.

I can't believe you still like this place.

Don't be ornery, Orny.

That is a terrible turn of speech, that.

So sour today.

You stop putting out so much 'orrible language and maybe things'd be different.

...Fair enough.

"So. Business out of the way. You tell me how you doing. Cyan'll kill me if I don't come back with good news."

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

Annoyance, mostly with himself. The attempt at a reassurance indicated clearly enough that he’d given too much away, but… he couldn’t have stopped the reaction, not really, not with so many of his recent experiences with humans involving pain. Instead, he focused on smoothing his own muscles, letting himself flop out a little more, surrendering to the exhaustion of his body. Wounds like those decorating him took time to heal, after all.

“I’m doing well,” K’rad answered, ignoring the first part of the other young man’s statement, at least initially, but with a mind slowed by fellis, and Belegurth somewhere further away…

“Why’d you do it? They’d not have been pleased to find you there…”

[Kaya]

"Why? You seen you. I done it cause I wanted to, and we're not caught," Kh'sol passed it right back. "It all worked so be grateful." This youngling had been protesting his rescue every step of the way. Though injured animals were much the same way. The thought of K'rad with little goat features brought a snort through his nose.

"Tell me 'bout how it is here. You making friends yet?" Kh'sol barged forward. Besides a slightly better report than 'he's good', Kh'sol had what he came for. Maybe with any luck that healer would come back, or K'rad would send him off. Cyan had maybe said once it was better not to be gone too long.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K’rad tensed, a little. He hadn’t meant to imply he wasn’t grateful, he just… what was there of worth to him, a traitor to the entire Weyr, even in a way indirectly responsible for that declaration of war, that merited any effort at all?

“Do you count the Healer?” K’rad said, a feeble attempt at a joke. After all, he spent so much time in an exhausted sleep that he had little enough interaction with others. Helped along, of course, by having been pretending to sleep for many more hours than he actually needed. He’d not known the story they were telling, after all, and as a direct result hadn’t wanted to risk compromising it. He wasn’t really sure what else to say, in truth, couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t glaringly obvious, but…

“It’s nice to see the sun again,” he whispered, the exhaustion pulling at his mind, slurring the words just a bit.

[Kaya]

Kh'sol's rambunctious laughter filled the tent. So he had some normal senses about him. Though he could see the youngster flagging in his next comment. "Maybe I should leave you to resting then, if a single joke wears you out so. The healer's a good man and an ally, but those nasty potions he swills up bar him from being your friend. Ha, I'll tell Cyan you made a joke. That'll put her to rights." Kh'sol gave K'rad a pat on the shoulder.

"Enjoy the sun. I probably should get going if that's all for business," Kh'sol announced, leaping to stretch as well as his frame could in that tent. "Maybe next time we can go for a walk. Or flying even. If ya feel up to it."