Winds of Change | {tag} | Fawkes/Daela

All the rest of the Northern Continent that Atricis left behind. Atricis' old Holds can be found within, as well as all the other Holds and Weyrs and old lands left behind.
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lucidmaus
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Thu Nov 29, 2018 1:40 am

While the South was experiencing spring, autumn had fully engulfed the North.

Igen Weyr was no exception. Rukbat still burned hot on clear days, but the nights were colder and the winds had started to carry that chill through dusk and dawn. The rim of the Weyr cut across the sky in abstract and jagged patterns, patterns that were reflected in the relatively still lake within the bowl.

The Weyr itself came alive only during the morning and evening, when the air was cool and Rukbat was not so high and bright as to blind. The rest of the time would find residents and riders alike doing all they could to keep out of that harsh sun's gaze.

Doumah, like any savvy resident, waited until the air had started to grow cool in the early evening before venturing out. He took no chances with the sun, though; he still wore a dark, broad-brimmed hat and the typical, flowing robe-like garments that most wore when trekking out into the heat. Dark material, all of it, save for a visible flash of bright color from time to time as another layer was exposed. His steps were brisk and purposeful, his stride aimed directly for the corrals and pens where the dragons would feed.

His jaw was set at an angle that made the severe lines of his face even harsher, but there was no other betrayal of his mood to be found. Just that hard clench of jaw and naught else. His stride was otherwise relaxed, despite being so sure, and his hands were loose; at ease.

Once he was close enough to the fence to haul himself onto it, he reached up to tug part of his robe open. A pale bronze firelizard spilled out and pooled in his lap briefly before taking flight. He launched his comparatively tiny self at some remaining bit of beast carcass in the area and began to gnaw away.

Doumah watched, his expression sliding back into a neutrality that fit his visage much better. He shifted around and perched properly on the fence, hunched forward with his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands dangling between his knees. And, so, he sat and he watched in silence while his freshly oiled companion engaged in a grave battle with some herdbeast's rib.

Just another day, then.

Just one more day at Igen Weyr.
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Aglaia o | o Zoraida o | o Lulajeta

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Fawkes
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Sat Dec 01, 2018 11:06 pm

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Even though it was the menial task of being someone's transport to and from Weyrs, Daela actually seemed to be enjoying herself. This was one of the main reasons she wanted to become a dragonrider, to enjoy the freedoms of traveling anywhere in whole of Pern within the span of three breaths. After spending most of her life under her mothers' watchful gaze, it was a relief to be able to spread her wings and go wherever she wanted. It certainly helped that she had an amazing dragon to take her there, and Israfeth was only too happy to explore the lands available at her wingtips.

Today, they were going to Igen Weyr.

Isra and Daela sat waiting outside the apartment of their fare for the day, a crafter by the name of Manion who had business in the Weyr and had enlisted the help of a weyrling to be their taxi. Daela had practically volunteered for the chance to leave the Weyr on 'business' and get to explore one of the Northern Weyrs for the day, and J'velin had entrusted her with the task. He reminded her that their terms with Igen were rocky at best, and as a weyrling she was to be on her best behavior within the Weyr and represent Atricis in the proper light. As a young woman, raised to be an Heiress, she was fairly confident that she wouldn't go about stirring up trouble for Atricis while simply admiring what Igen had to offer. She would bring the crafter to Igen, explore the Weyr a little bit, maybe go on a brief flight around the lands and then return home with the crafter in tow once more.

Simple as that.

Manion emerged from his dwelling and smiled up at the young woman, who reached to give him a hand up into the saddle. Though Israfeth wasn't quite done growing, she was still quite the formidable size, larger than any pewter yet smaller than her garnet kin, settling into an average of the two it would seem. If her spliced colors weren't enough to draw the eye, between her brows glittered a silvery horn that had grown longer as she aged until it was at least three handspans in length with the slightest curve. Daela saw the crafters eye shift over the unique dragon for a moment, though he seemed to be rather used to it by now and took the girls hand and vaulted into place behind her.

Take us to Igen then my love. Daela thought as those rosy laced wings spread and began to beat down hard to rise the dragons' bulk into the air. The weyrling clung to the image of the Northern Weyr in her minds' eye as she'd seen it before during their lessons. Every Weyrling on Pern had every Major Hold and Weyr ingrained in their brains once they started learning how to between and Dae had particularly enjoyed those field trips. And so, she held on tight to the image of Igen Weyr and gave her passenger a brief warning, before the trio blinked away.

In the time it took them to cough three times, the warmth of Rukbat shined upon them once more, chasing away the chill of the void. Below them lay the expanse of the whole Weyr, and the sight of these Northern Weyrs always seemed to take the young woman's breath away. These collapsed giants of mountains were home to a plethora of dragons and vibrant wings beat through just about every color of the rainbow below her. Despite it's stark and barren landscapes, there was a beauty all of it's own that most of the inhabitants likely take for granted, or even think it's ugly. Yet, to the southern born, there was something awe inspiring in the lack of greenery or vegetation and the starkness of bare stone and dust all around her.

The rosy chimera gave a few lazy spirals as she came in for a landing and allowed her rider and the crafter a chance to soak it all in before they settled on the dusty floor of the Bowl. Now that she can see it with her own eyes, 'bowl' seemed quite the appropriate term for this vast expanses within the Walls of the mountain. Just as 'yard' was used for the open grounds of Atricis and the expanses of fields of green between buildings. Cave and ledges dotted these immense Walls that rose up around her, and most of them sported a dragon or two sunning themselves. Beneath her, she could feel an envy radiating from the chimera and knew that Isra would love to have a ledge all to her own, instead of sharing a cliffs' edge with all the others.

Perhaps one day. No one said we have to stay in Atricis the rest of our lives. The young woman mused to her other half as she turned to help Manion down out of his seat. There was the softest rumble from the dragon, and she used her forearm to give the man a little more leverage on his way down. You shouldn't tempt me with such offers, or we'd be leaving as soon as we're graduated. Came the chimeras voice, sultry and sweet in touhe back of her mind, causing the young woman to smile softly. Wouldn't that be a treat? To pick up and leave the South altogether? Leave behind that pre-determined plan of her mothers and throw caution to the wind? ... What about V'ric though? Or T'ran? or Darrow and Darlla? ... Her friends, her family, she couldn't leave them behind.

Manion shouted up at her, and Daela had to shake the thoughts from her mind, trying to recall what he'd said. Something about two candlemarks? She smiled at him as if she'd heard all of it and gave him a nod as she swung her leg over the saddle and moved to dismount. "Isra and I will be close, and not hard to miss. You come back whenever you're ready, and we'll take you home." She said, hoping that would suffice for the crafter, and it seemed to as the man smiled at her and then bade her goodbye for now, shuffling off to toward where she presumed the Craft 'Halls' would be. Just another hole in the wall to her.

Now, what should she do with herself for the next candlemark or two? Daela gave a glance around at the hustle and bustle of the Weyr, and soaked up the warmth that Rukbat had to offer. Israfeth however, heard the sound of a bleating herdbeast and felt her stomach rumble slightly in hunger. You don't suppose they would mind if I just snagged up a small snack, do you? The chimera practically hummed to her rider, whirling facets turning toward the feeding pens and the livestock cloistered within. As if you don't get enough to eat back home? The young woman chided playfully, her gaze also drifting to the pens, and spying someone sitting along the fence lines. I am still a growing girl, what can I say? The rosy dragon replied, and picked herself up once more and took a few steps toward the pens, leaving very little else for her rider to do except follow. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask at least. Daela said, hastening after the beast and moving toward the young man on the fence.

"Excuse me?" The chimerarider called out as she neared, hoping she had not startled the boy, though it was hard not to hear the lumber of the dragon moving up behind him either. "Pardon us, but we're visiting from Atricis, and Israfeth here is still a growing dragon with an insatiable hunger. Might you have a spare small beast or wherry that could satiate her for the time being?" Daela asked quite prim and properly as she stopped before the young man, a quick glance to the knots on his shoulder to make sure she was addressing the proper person. A white knotted cord slung over his shoulder, a candidate then? Hopefully, the beasts were part of his chore then, and he would still be able to help her.
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"


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The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

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The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

Image Image
The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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lucidmaus
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Sun Dec 02, 2018 2:06 am

Bune was clearly losing the battle with the herdbeast's rib.

This was not especially surprising to Doumah, though, and his expression betrayed nothing. He remained a still and otherwise unmoving figure, with the occasional breeze setting his clothing to stir and rustle. Strange and silent and not unlike a statue.

The firelizard relented in his attack and came at it from another angle. This time, he managed to peel a strip of tendon away. Proudly, he set about chewing on it, perched precariously on the bone that had so deftly thwarted him before. But, unlike Doumah, the creature was not wholly oblivious to the approach of an interloper. Bune snapped his jaws shut, hard, on the section of meatless material and turned his head sharply in the direction of the unknown - and decidedly eye-catching - dragon that approached. He mantled his wings, attempting to appear larger than he was - but, frankly, he was not an especially large bronze firelizard and he was anything but intimidating.

Whether it was the sound of the chimera's stride or some thought relayed from firelizard to keeper, it's hard to say. But, the young man finally stirred, shifting his weight on the fence.

"Excuse me?" called the rider and Doumah's head tilted slightly to one side. It was just enough for him to glance over his shoulder, if just barely, to bring the woman and her unconventional lifemate into view.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Pardon us, but we're visiting from Atricis, and Israfeth here is still a growing dragon with an insatiable hunger. Might you have a spare small beast or wherry that could satiate her for the time being?"

Doumah's eyes flicked down to his knot, a betrayal of his lingering status as a Candidate. He'd stood once and was due to stand again, aye. The connection was quickly made - riders were, in his experience, generally quite keen at sussing out what Candidates were assigned to what chores. To his mind, it might well have been another talent or skill acquired by the properly bonded dragonfolk. This time, the assessment might not be precisely accurate, but it was still close enough.

He shifted slightly and swung his leg around, deftly dismounting the fence in a movement that was more efficient than fluid. Sand and dust swirled around his ankles and clung to the dark material of his clothes. He straightened to his full height, shoulders squared and head held high - his natural state, it would seem, rather than an intimidation tactic. A tip of the hat was followed by a salute - respectful, if quick. His eye was inexorably drawn to the startling combination of garnet and pewter and it took sheer force of will to wrench his gaze from Israfeth to the woman that was her chosen.

"Igen Weyr's duties," he intoned, his voice bearing the distinct, undiluted accent of an Igenite native. It was the kind of accent that's more than merely acquired; it was practically a feature of his genes, baked in over turns spent on those sands and under Rukbat's watchful gaze. Low, yes, but rich and deep, deeper than one might have expected out of him, perhaps. Silence descended for a short span and his jaw worked a bit, clenching and unclenching as if he were quite literally chewing his words.

Bune, helpfully, chattered from his perch, head bobbing a bit as he sized up Israfeth.

"Beasts aren't my duty today," Doumah eventually continued. He half-turned, motioning with an arm to indicate a small collection of skittish creatures toward the far end of the pens. Not the finest the Weyr had to offer, not by a long shot, but still plenty serviceable to feed a dragon. "But I know those are no good for the butcher's block and they're too small for the bigger dragons to make more than a snack of. Yours is welcome to any that she can catch."

There would be those that might argue the matter feverishly - but, fortunately, those sorts were either occupied or still avoiding the lingering traces of the sun. No other dragons were at the pens, having either freshly eaten or, perhaps, pursuing prey elsewhere. Others, lounging on their ledges, might have had their thoughts - thoughts which, fortunately, Doumah was not privy to. As the presumed gatekeeper for the beasts, he - at least - was not willing to let a visitor go hungry if he could avoid it.

"If you need anything yourself, say so. I can send that one to get something." He tipped his head, indicating the bronze 'lizard that still insisted on trying to protect his scavenged kill. "He is not bright, but he is well-trained."
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D'mah o | o Pahaliah o | o Zultana
Aglaia o | o Zoraida o | o Lulajeta

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Fawkes
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Sun Dec 02, 2018 3:22 am

Daela was quiet as the boy shifted and spoke up, hands clasped before her rather prim and properly, a hint of a friendly smile on her lips creating the slightest dimple in her cheeks. When he stood, he seemed to tower over her slender form, and yet it was something she was clearly used to as the way her gaze naturally traveled up. Underneath the layers of clothing, she saw a boy, nay a young man standing before her, and he practically radiated the feeling of just putting one foot in front of the other to get through the day.

"Beasts aren't my duty today," He started, and the young woman looked away almost sheepishly, thinking she'd made a fool of herself then. Yet, he continued after a moment, pointing out the few stringy looking beasts at the far end of the pens and saying they were welcome to snag one of those. Silently, she hoped this wouldn't get the young man in trouble with anyone for allowing them one of the beasts, though it didn't seem there was much competition in the pens at the moment, or anyone else around for her to ask instead.

"Thank you, your generosity is greatly appreciated." The chimerarider said softly as she stepped up a little closer to the fence and let go of the mental leash that had held back the dragon from simply pouncing the nearest beast. Free to hunt, the rosy diamond dragon leapt into the air, wingbeats stirring the dust around them briefly before it settled once more with her departure as she circled the pens from above. Daela could feel the way Israfeth was muttering about 'if she could catch one' and making sure to show this boy who could catch a scrawny little beast like these.

When he offered to have his firelizard retrieve anything for herself, the young woman was prompt enough with her smile and shake of her head. "Oh, no thank you. I don't want to impose any more than I already have." She said softly, moving to take a place against the fence and leaning ever so slightly against it as she glanced up to where Isra was eyeing her prey. "In fact, it should be I that does something for you in return." Daela said softly, perhaps the slightest hint of a tease in her voice as she glanced back to the young man beside her.

"My name is Daela by the way, and the hungry one is Israfeth." The chimerarider said in a friendly manner, smiling softly at the young man and half expecting, yet neither pressing him, to offer up his own name in return. If he chose to keep to himself, she could not fault him for that and wouldn't persue the matter too much. Afterall, would she even ever see him again after this chance meeting?
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"


ImageImageImage
The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

ImageImageImage
The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

Image Image
The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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lucidmaus
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Sun Dec 02, 2018 4:01 am

To the casual onlooker - and, in truth, to anyone that roughly knew the youth - Doumah was the very image of steadfastness and stability. A steady, drumbeat of emotion, low and slow and calm. Nothing strange or supernatural to it; such was just the sort of aura that the lad exuded. But that mood shifted subtly at the offered smile and barely there dimpling of the chimerarider's cheeks. Doumah's jaw twitched again and any halfway savvy soul would see the start of a smile quickly being pushed into a neutral line.

The moment the shimmering, roseate chimera took wing, Bune took wing as well - only to be snapped back in place by the tendon in his jaws that was still attached to the rib. He chattered irritably and released his 'catch', only to quickly take flight and chase after the brightly hued - and considerably larger - dragon. His motives remained unclear - perhaps even to himself. Doumah flicked a look after the pale bronze and his suppressed smile struggled once more.

"Thank you, your generosity is greatly appreciated." Her words prompted a curt shaking of his head, a stiff left-right-center movement of matter-of-fact denial. But she continued: "Oh, no thank you. I don't want to impose any more than I already have."

His brow furrowed further, but he remained silent; listening her out and, to some degree, taking her measure. It was a far more subtle affair than Bune's measuring of Israfeth, at least. But, while Daela eventually settled against the fence, he found a spot to likewise lean, foregoing the perch for now. He turned slightly, just enough to be able to cut a look up at where the dragon was stalking her prey and the firelizard was stalking the dragon. His regard shifted back to the rider when she spoke again, with the tinge of a tease spurring a slight quirk of one eyebrow.

"In fact, it should be I that does something for you in return."

Did he hear correctly? No, he must not have. All the same, the thought was enough to momentarily illuminate his mood, bringing a bell-bright melody to cut across the dullness of his day-to-day internal drumming. It was quickly quashed by self-consciousness and resolved itself into a tensing of his shoulders that he had to forcibly relax.

"My name is Daela by the way, and the hungry one is Israfeth."

"It's an offer, not an imposition," Doumah finally pointed out, taking advantage of the natural break in conversation to do so. "And it's only right and fair to not let a guest go hungry, traditions be damned." He turned his head to a side and spat into the dust inside the corral. "No need to pay for what's freely offered, rider Daela. For you or your Israfeth."

His mouth pulled just a bit to one side, as if considering. Then: "I suppose we are well met. I'm Doumah. That one's Bune." A pause. "What brings you and your marvel to Igen Weyr? I can't say that I've seen a rider from your Weyr."
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D'mah o | o Pahaliah o | o Zultana
Aglaia o | o Zoraida o | o Lulajeta

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Fawkes
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Sun Dec 09, 2018 6:31 am

Already she liked him, whoever this stranger was. He was calm, quiet, collected... When she was around him, she wasn't bombarded by a mix of emotions, and in fact she could barely 'feel' anything from him. That was a kin to relief for the gifted girl, when so often she was forced to quiet those emotions that were not her own, and yet around this man it was blissfully quiet. She was reminded by her own brothers' calm spirit, and it set at ease around this lad, even though she knew naught about him.

When she offered to do something in return though, she felt it... That little trickle down her spine, something that lifted her spirits for barely a moment before it went calm once more. To the gifted girl, it felt as though a sudden idea had come to light, only to be pushed away in place of honor and duty. She knew that feeling all too well when she'd had to set aside her own wants and desires for the plans that her mother had devised for her. Could that flicker within him be something reminiscent of her own? Perhaps there was something she could do for him then, she would have to stick around and find out...

When he spoke again, it was the easy, steady voice that belied the age of his features and the young woman couldn't help but smile softly and lean into the fence post as she listened to his tenor. "It's an offer, not an imposition, And it's only right and fair to not let a guest go hungry, traditions be damned." The boy's words were accented with a glance to the side and a spat in the dirt, the gesture giving them an added meaning. Something he didn't appreciate about 'traditions', eh? Was the family name or business a burden on his shoulders as well? Daela mused to herself, perhaps only projecting these similarities between them.

"I suppose we are well met. I'm Doumah. That one's Bune." A pause. "What brings you and your marvel to Igen Weyr? I can't say that I've seen a rider from your Weyr."

"Well met Doumah." The chimerarider agreed, turning to the young man and giving him a gracious smile. "You are too kind to us." Daela added with a cordial dip of her head toward the Igenite. The weyrling knew she may be laying it on a bit thick with the niceities, but she'd promised V'an she'd be on her best behavior, didn't she? This young man wouldn't be able to say she had been anything other than pleasant.

"I wish I had a better story, but the truth is that we've been assigned for transport duty for the day and a crafter needed a ride... Thus landed ourselves in your fine Weyr." The rider said, giving a glance around at the dusty Bowl and the domineering Walls around them. She also said it to test the lad's reaction to her compliment, wondering if it perhaps it was the Weyrs traditions he wasn't too keen on. "Yet, it's the reason I became a 'Rider, to travel and explore and see new places. There's a beauty here if you choose to see it." Daela continued, looking back to Doumah and wondering if he felt the same way or not.

Above them, Israfeth paid little heed to the small flitter that tailed after her. It was a natural occurrence of a Weyr for the little cousins to constantly be around and her own rider had one of the pesky things, so she barely even noticed the bronze was there. Her eye was more keen on the prey below, the beasts huddled against each other hoping to make themselves look like a much bigger target, but Israfeth was learning their habits now. She could see the front half of one beast sticking out from the group, and that's what she focused on.

Twirling back around, the rosy dragon aligned herself for the strike and gave into the powers of her prowess. Tucking her wings in, she dove and gained speed as she fell toward her prey and watched and waited for the last minute before she would strike. The beasts huddled, they bleated at the doom coming down upon them and only when the dragons' shadow was upon them did they bolt in every direction at once. Isra had her target though, and as the beast took off, she flared her wings wide and threw herself at the fleeing beast, talons outstretched and just itching to wrap themselves around the flesh.

The chimera pinned the beast down into the dusty floor of the pen, the creature writhing under her grasp and as the talons sank in deeper with her weight, the bleating of the beast began to wane. The last sound came as a chocked noise as teeth clamped down around the beasts' throat and silencing it for good.
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"


ImageImageImage
The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

ImageImageImage
The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

Image Image
The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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lucidmaus
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Sun Dec 09, 2018 4:09 pm

If Daela was seeking something of him, she would find it; for though his moods were steady and calm, there was a very faint thread of discord that worked through the belly of the drums. It was a single, strange note, one that would take some work to tease out. Tied to the notion of tradition, briefly visible when he spat to a side. It was something that just didn't fit - and he couldn't properly cover it. Or, perhaps, he didn't know that it was there to be covered. It was hard to say.

Nor did his thoughts play out over his features. Despite his youth, Doumah still looked grim and some turns older than he should. Perhaps it was the clothing, the hat and strange garments of the Igenites.

"Well met Doumah." The chimerarider agreed, turning to the young man and giving him a gracious smile. "You are too kind to us."

The words and the smile brought another bright note to his emotional symphony - though could he be blamed? How many other young women have noticed him, let alone smiled at him? Even if it was a matter of politeness, it still struck a chord in him. A bright flicker - and then it was gone again, as if he were keenly aware of the truth of things.

Her assertions of his too-kindness were answered with a lopsided shrug. "Compared to most here, maybe. But, it doesn't cost anything to be decent."

"I wish I had a better story, but the truth is that we've been assigned for transport duty for the day and a crafter needed a ride... Thus landed ourselves in your fine Weyr." The rider said, giving a glance around at the dusty Bowl and the domineering Walls around them. She also said it to test the lad's reaction to her compliment, wondering if it perhaps it was the Weyrs traditions he wasn't too keen on. "Yet, it's the reason I became a 'Rider, to travel and explore and see new places. There's a beauty here if you choose to see it."

Ah, but there it was again. A discordant note that shuddered below the drums, like a saw blade set to wobbling. Doumah's jaw tensed and he spat again to a side. The better to look away; the better to try to control the momentary twisting of his mouth. The better to crush that rising feeling of dismay and disgust at his disconnection to the Weyr of his birth. Internally, he worked quickly to calm those moods, to flatten them out again. Feeling anything other than the dull drumbeat was uncomfortable to him.

When he looked to her again, he reached up - but only to remove the hat. There wasn't much need for it. And, besides, it freed him up to pull his free hand through his hair, if only to try to tame it into something respectable. "It's fair enough, this time of day. Not too hot or too cool. You and your passenger picked a fine time to visit." Silence spun out for a beat before he added, "Just make sure to be gone before dark."

That sounded ominous.

His nose wrinkled and he added: "I don't mean to make this place seem awful. It's pretty in the right light. But when the light's gone, the ugly comes out."

Though his tone remained more or less neutral, with notes of earnesty and concern, his emotions took on a startlingly different quality. The drum beat slowed and the discordant note rose, painful enough to hurt the figurative heart. It hurt to think that the people he knew and worked with and saw were that kind of ugly. Everything about it made him ache. The land was gorgeous, there was no dispute about that, but the people? That was another matter entirely. More and more, it seemed that the weyrling's feelings on the matter were cutting close to the spiritual bone of things.

The dragon's hunting served as a more than suitable distraction to pull him from that aching introspection. Watching the chimera make her strike and pin her prey was, strangely, a soothing process for the butcher. He'd no doubt seen his fair share of dragons hunting out here, so it was surely not as shocking or jarring to him as it might be for others. The terrible, wobbling note that cut through his stable tendencies was slowly pushed back down again.

Bune, for his part, did the absolute best he could to shadow the rosy dragon, but when she finally descended to strike, the wee firelizard spiraled higher, chattering away. Admonishment? Amusement? With that one, it was utterly impossible to tell.

"She's a fine hunter," Doumah intoned after Israfeth pinned her prey, his attention held while she throttled it with a bite to the throat. "I hope she takes you to all of the truly beautiful places of this world."
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D'mah o | o Pahaliah o | o Zultana
Aglaia o | o Zoraida o | o Lulajeta

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Fawkes
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Title: The Majestic Birb
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Tue Jan 01, 2019 9:24 pm

Despite the young mans' mostly calm and stalwart demeanor, there were sparks flickering beneath the surface that Daela could feel, recognizing them keenly as the echoes within her own heart. She knew what it was like to be frustrated and denied by the traditions of family or Home, and she could sense those tenuous vibrations from Doumah, and her prodding only confirmed her suspicions. There were bright points too, a sign that he was not all disgust and dismay, that a smile can change his tune even if just for moment and she stored that little notion away for later too. Yet, it was this unsettled feeling in her gut that kept her keen on this young man, wondering if there was something she could do...

When he once again spat at the mention of the Weyr, Daela had her answer and she tuned into his emotions a little further as he spoke up again, the words only the mask to what he truly thought. His even tone belied the turmoil and ache she could feel stirring within, and she desperately wished to lay a hand upon his own, if only to help stem the tide. And yet she knew that would be untoward of her, and the hand moved away besides, reaching up to remove his hat and reveal himself even more to her. She was surprised to find out that a soul so deep could be one so young, perhaps just a little younger than she had been when she'd left her world behind... His boyish looks were just beginning to harden into a mans' chiseled jawline, and yet the age in his eyes betrayed his youth.

His words... he'd warned her of Igen when darkness fell, and she knew he wasn't speaking about Rukbat's rays either. Was this place so terrible to him? ... Hadn't Walled and her Mother been too much for her as well? She didn't know his history with Igen, with his family, but she could sense how much it bothered him, gnawed at him until it hurt and she knew that ache all too well. Come away with me. Daela thought, stopping herself from speaking the words out loud, stopping herself from stepping closer to him, and instead she let a moment of silence linger between them, thinking of what to do.

Both sets of eyes turned then to watch the dragon within the pen, see the chimera pin down the unfortunate beast, and then listen to the cries as they dwindled away. It had bothered her in the beginning, watching Israfeth kill something and while she'd learned to deal with it, there would always be a part of her that inwardly cringed when she heard the dying beasts. "She's a fine hunter," He started, and she was almost thankful for something else to look at as her gaze shifted back to the young man at the fence beside her. "I hope she takes you to all of the truly beautiful places of this world."

Before she could stop herself, the thought was on her tongue and she spoke without hesitation. "She could take you too." The chimerarider said, her tone sincere even if she was kicking herself for even saying something. "I just mean that... well... " Daela started to explain, and then the words fell and she couldn't think of what to say. She glanced at him, and then away toward Israfeth once more, perhaps because of the hint of a blush on her cheeks she didn't want him to see. "Well, you're already a candidate, yes? Maybe you could come to Atricis with me instead, Stand for a few clutches down there. Maybe there's something about Igen that's holding you back..." Daela said, though she could feel something growing uneasily in her belly and hastily shoved it down.

If this young man was so bothered by being here in Igen, why couldn't he just leave? Candidates transfer all the time, sharing among the Weyrs, don't they? Maybe he'd have better chances in Atricis, and then when he's graduated, can return to Igen as a dragonrider.... although, hadn't she had the same idea to return to Walled? She was trying to validate in her mind why she had said that, but in the end it came down to helping Doumah, taking him away from a place that caused him such pain, because she knew what that prison felt like, and she now knew what it meant to be free...
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"


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The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

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The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

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The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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lucidmaus
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Tue Jan 01, 2019 10:39 pm

"She could take you too."

Her words cut through the stillness of his thoughts. It could be said that nothing was going through his mind while he watched Israfeth feed, but that wouldn't be wholly accurate. His thoughts had turned to considerations of necessity, of the needs that all creatures felt. Hunger. Thirst. Safety.

Doumah tilted his head slightly, just enough to bring Daela back into his regard - if through the corner of his eye. The acknowledgement was silent, but certain.

"I just mean that... well... "

She continued and he remained silent and still, patient while she worked through her thoughts. When she looked away, his jaw twitched slightly and his gaze tracked after, falling back on the feeding chimera fully. Had he seen her blush? He said nothing if he did.

"Well, you're already a candidate, yes? Maybe you could come to Atricis with me instead, Stand for a few clutches down there. Maybe there's something about Igen that's holding you back..."

There it was. A dry click sounded at the back of his throat when he swallowed.

"To Atricis." The inner drum beat, the calmness, quickened as if to match a momentary spike in his pulse.

"With her." A barely perceptible spark of something - hope? anticipation? - pinged like a shimmery bell.

"With you." The mote of hopeful light grew momentarily confused, wavering between brightness and raw uncertainty. With her? But why? Just to Stand?

The thought itself was broken down into smaller pieces deliberately, his head turning once more to look at the weyrling rider in earnest. He sucked his teeth, his expression a thoughtful species of stoic that betrayed how he would look as a fully fledged adult.

Yet, still, the uncertainty bounced back and forth in his emotional concert, warring forces between his natural state of calm and the desire to just go. To run. To take this offering and devour it whole, without question. But, of course, the questions were there, strange motes that flickered on and off, powered by nothing more than his youthfulness and the presence of an attractive young woman that was paying him some kind of attention.

And, more than that, a woman who was both granting permission - and offering the freedom - to leave.

He was silent for a time, long enough to draw and hold a deep breath. He let it out in a slow, soundless exhalation and, when it was done, the uncertainty was gone, the hormonal flashes were gone, and the desire to run-

That desire was reshaped into a hard-edged spine, a metallic twang that throbbed beneath his otherwise mellow mood. Surety of purpose added to determination.

"I will go - but I will not return, if I do Impress," he finally said. "My duty, as a dragonrider, would be to the Weyr that hatched my lifemate. Such a thing would be stronger than any ties of blood or tradition - wouldn't it?"
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D'mah o | o Pahaliah o | o Zultana
Aglaia o | o Zoraida o | o Lulajeta

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Fawkes
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Title: The Majestic Birb
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Sun Jan 20, 2019 4:14 am

She hadn't meant to blurt that out, had she? It was spontaneous, and she knew it was wrong... wasn't it? But, here he was, a young man who's heart had been hammered down by the traditions of Igen and family, and she knew all too well that heartache, that burden, and she wanted to free him as she herself had been freed. It couldn't be all that bad then, if done for the right reasons, could it?

Maybe, just maybe, his own duty to obligations would hold him back, that he would deny her offer, that he would realize it was too good to be true and would turn her down. And yet, she could feel the emotions warring within him, uncertainty, hope, confusion, anticipation... she could feel it as keenly as her own, remembered well the turmoil that rose within her own belly and heart when she was offered a Candidacy within Atricis. She had just supposed to be passing through, staying there while her parents settled things back in Walled, and then Iolith and Sid'nis had seen her, and her whole world was changed.

At the feeling of apprehension in her rider, Israfeth had paused in her meal and lifted her maw to gaze over at the two forms leaning against the fence. She regarded them quietly for a moment, and then even spared a glance toward the little bronze creature that seemed to want to her attention. Daintily, the chimera licked the blood from her jaws and even used a forepaw to help wipe some of it again. If it helps settle your mind, we both know there is something about him, he has potential to be so much more. The rosy dragonet commented, her tone rather nonchalant, though her words were rather on point. It's true, there was something else about Doumah, something hidden beneath the surface that just needed a chance to flourish. Igen was not going to give him that chance, he could never be who he was meant to be here in these stifling surroundings. He'd been Searched once, was it so bad to Search him again, just for a different Weyr? She knew that was likely wrong, but the consequences be damned, she couldn't just leave him here!

"I will go - but I will not return, if I do Impress," She heard him say, through all the jumble of her own emotions, along with the melody of his own, and she could feel the breath wash out of her in relief. Yet dread still lingered in the back of her mind, knowing she would likely having to pay for this, though she would never regret it. He went on about his duty to the Weyr that bred his dragon, and her smile reflected the sentiment.

"The bond of your dragon, is stronger than anything else... no matter where you are." She said softly, glancing out at the chimera dragon who was finishing up her meal. "And Atricis will be lucky to have you Doumah, I have a good feeling about you being there." The young woman said, pushing herself off the fence post and turning to regard the candidate. "I left my home and family behind to come to Atricis, though I thought I would go back... now I don't think I ever will." Daela continued, a little hint into their shared story, though it sounded pretty typical of any candidate that had been Searched outside the Weyrs. "We're more alike than you think Doumah, and someday maybe I can tell you all about my story, but I think yours is about to start." She said with a bright smile for the young man and then moved to nudge against his shoulder.

"I wont have long here, once Manion is done, I'm back off to Atricis... Israfeth is telling me that the crafter says he'll be about half a candlemark... Is that enough for you?" The chimerarider said, glancing at the young man and wondering what all he would bring and who he would say good bye to given the chance to.
"You are only given one little spark of madness,
... you mustn't lose it"


ImageImageImage
The Lady . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Vixen . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Knight

ImageImageImage
The Matron . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Joker . . ~ ~ * ~ ~ . . The Princess

Image Image
The Mariner . ~ * ~ . The Spirit

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