Post by Hiko on Aug 1, 2012 13:41:25 GMT -5
My hide itches. I'm hungry.
“Mrfgh.”
Talera.
“What?” The brunette rolled over in the bed, curling the heavy quilt about her frame.
Talera.
The woman groaned, lazily stretching as she forced herself into a sitting position. “What, Aerroth?”
My hide itches. I hunger, the gold quietly repeated.
“Oh, oh!” Talera rubbed at her eyes to remove the sleep from her lids, then scrambled out of the large bed, climbing over the feather-filled pillows to search for her scrubbing bucket. “I'm sorry, my love. I didn't rest well last night.”
I know. You dreamt of Zalmaranth. Aerroth's tone was completely without reproach. The care in her lifemate's mental notes was the last straw in sobering the weyrwoman up.
“You're not upset?” She asked, pouring the heavy, petal-infused oil into the pail.
It is an upsetting time. She will die, but her clutch will survive. Why did her rider die? The gold peered over from her ledge to watch her rider with curious eyes. Talera made a noncommittal noise as she neared her golden beast.
“People get sick, heart. No one could have expected her to die, not with how young she was.”
But that only leaves us.
“I thought you wanted to be Weyrqueen?” Talera asked, scrubbing at the gold's flaky hide.
I did. I don't. It... It is confusing. I did not want Zalmaranth to die for me to be Weyrqueen. Her rider should not have had to die for you to be Weyrwoman. It is not right.
“It's life. Few things are ever truly “right.” We'll make do, heart. We aren't alone in this. B'rax has called together a council to keep care of the Weyr until you rise. We've Zenelle to help us ease into inventory work, and I'll want to learn some manner of dragonhealing – she's the best in the area for that.”
It just feels wrong. The gold curled in on herself and lowered her head onto her forepaws, sighing. The sudden burst of air drifted sand across Talera's feet as she worked. The woman paused in her scrubbing at the feel of the hot breath and laid a hand along her lifemate's wing.
“I know, love. I know.”
“Mrfgh.”
Talera.
“What?” The brunette rolled over in the bed, curling the heavy quilt about her frame.
Talera.
The woman groaned, lazily stretching as she forced herself into a sitting position. “What, Aerroth?”
My hide itches. I hunger, the gold quietly repeated.
“Oh, oh!” Talera rubbed at her eyes to remove the sleep from her lids, then scrambled out of the large bed, climbing over the feather-filled pillows to search for her scrubbing bucket. “I'm sorry, my love. I didn't rest well last night.”
I know. You dreamt of Zalmaranth. Aerroth's tone was completely without reproach. The care in her lifemate's mental notes was the last straw in sobering the weyrwoman up.
“You're not upset?” She asked, pouring the heavy, petal-infused oil into the pail.
It is an upsetting time. She will die, but her clutch will survive. Why did her rider die? The gold peered over from her ledge to watch her rider with curious eyes. Talera made a noncommittal noise as she neared her golden beast.
“People get sick, heart. No one could have expected her to die, not with how young she was.”
But that only leaves us.
“I thought you wanted to be Weyrqueen?” Talera asked, scrubbing at the gold's flaky hide.
I did. I don't. It... It is confusing. I did not want Zalmaranth to die for me to be Weyrqueen. Her rider should not have had to die for you to be Weyrwoman. It is not right.
“It's life. Few things are ever truly “right.” We'll make do, heart. We aren't alone in this. B'rax has called together a council to keep care of the Weyr until you rise. We've Zenelle to help us ease into inventory work, and I'll want to learn some manner of dragonhealing – she's the best in the area for that.”
It just feels wrong. The gold curled in on herself and lowered her head onto her forepaws, sighing. The sudden burst of air drifted sand across Talera's feet as she worked. The woman paused in her scrubbing at the feel of the hot breath and laid a hand along her lifemate's wing.
“I know, love. I know.”