Quite a Specimen [Ny'x]

[kevna]

Ny’x – Blue Nimocith

Why are we doing this again?

Because we need our flamethrowers fixed.

Yes… But why are we doing this.

Because it’s an adventure!

But what if you are needed here? What if we are needed here? It could be better to stay? N’yx could hear the hope that this line of questioning would indeed keep them from leaving the safety of their weyr, but she wasn’t inclined to acquiesce to his hopeful desire. They had been stuck in the weyr for too long.

It won’t take long. Besides, it’ll be good for us to get out. Don’t you want to fly? The only time they really got to fly it seemed was when thread was in the skies. Due to Nimocith’s lack of endurance, they didn’t last long, and she ended up spending far more time in the infirmary.

I-I do. But we could always just fly around Mavros.

I want to go, it’s another way we can be helpful. You like to be helpful. She made the point in hopes that this would quiet his fears, and give him purpose he could focus on. Before he could try to dissuade her again, N’yx brought to mind the coordinates that she had memorized of Telgar Hold, climbing up his side to settle herself in place. The brunette felt Nimocith hesitate, then seem to accept the inevitable.

Are you sure you have the coordinates correct?

If she didn’t know Nimocith so well, she would have been offended by him questioning her ability. This was just his cautious nature. Anything new was worth double checking in his record.

Yes, I’m sure. She patted his neck, and couldn’t help but allow for a little thrill of excitement at the prospect of flying, and traveling. This seemed to lift her blue’s spirit a bit, he did like it when she was happy.

Let’s fly. Her dragon launched into the sky, and once they were high enough, they entered between. She took a breath, then another. She felt Nimocith’s quiet presence in her mind, a constant comfort. They popped out of between above Telgar Hold, from one piercing cold to the biting cold of the North, and yet it just seemed so much warmer then between. Cold wet drops hit her face as she turned it up to the sky, relishing the freedom from between, and noticed the fall of snow.

Nimocith’s wonder was so very pure. He looked at it as if he never seen snow before, which was untrue, though his memory was indeed short-but had he ever seen so much snow? She smiled, taking another deep breath as they spiraled down toward the hold, and then veered towards the Smithcraft Hall. There was a semi-large group, and because of their vantage point, she could just see two people circling one another.

I feel… There was a pause, his tentative nature apparent. She searched his mind for what he was feeling, and it felt similar to when they had met Ceela. You feel this, like with Ceela? She brought to mind their interaction, and Nimocith almost nodded. I feel some Ceelas.

Some?

I think so? Two. Maybe one. They are close, almost one? But somewhat separate. He seemed genuinely confused, and it only further perplexed her. What in between did that mean?

Let’s land, land near where you feel it.

Can I land here instead? He sent her a picture, and she quickly found the spot with her eyes, and almost rolled them. It wasn’t close at all to where he was getting the feeling. I do not want to disturb them. He said innocently, and she rolled her eyes again, but patted his neck. He landed in front of the Smithcraft Hall, which seemed more or less deserted, and she slid off the blue and almost slipped in the snow as she landed.

“I’m okay!” She said before he could ask and started jogging toward where she had seen the group of people. She pulled her coat tighter to herself as she jogged, slightly annoyed by her foggy breath. She reached the group after what seemed like forever, and she wedged herself in between a few people, offering apologies and excuses, until she could see what stood at the center of it. Two men, one was a behemoth, tall and broad shouldered, sandy colored hair, and he was stripped down to pants and a longsleeve shirt that clung to him due to the wet snow. The other was far shorter, though almost as broad, and far less interesting to watch, probably because he was dressed more warmly. Both wrestled in the snow, there was curses and laughter, but to her ears she could hear the intensity behind the laughter, as if there were anger as well.

Him. She could feel Nimo watching through the lens of her eyes, feel the intensity, and then confusion came back. No… Her?

“That is definitely a man, Nimo.” She said quietly, the appreciation clear in her voice. She tended to speak out loud when around people, though it made no sense. Maybe because it was more polite, letting people hear her side of the conversation. Not that she was trying to be obvious about the conversation. 

Them. Them? They are two, but one.

“So… Him, and another? A woman?” She continued to murmur, though she didn’t bother scanning the crowd, she was far more interested in the ‘him’ that Nimocith could feel. A dragon candidate, if she could convince him to come to Mavros. Shards, she hoped she could convince him. It would be nice to have a specimen like him in the Weyr. It would be nice to have those arms wrapped around her and-Nimocith interrupted her, probably because he could see where her mind was going-She too. She is… like him. Find her.

N’yx waved her hand dismissively. “I will, I will. I just want to watch the finish of this first.” The taller man almost glistened with sweat, even though it was freezing cold outside.