Post by Deleted on Sept 15, 2012 22:19:00 GMT -5
They'd buried Karredy by the beach, just underneath a ledge of the cliffs. It was on that hazy strip of land that was neither complete sand, nor valuable enough to consider for agriculture. It was a compromise between the traditional dragonrider sendoff to between and the wishes of the Weyrwoman's family. She'd always been talking about being from the desert, anyway, so maybe interring the Weyrwoman in sandy ground was fitting.
Layka had been too overcome to attend the funeral, and Gerran didn't know what to make of seeing his youngest daughter for the last time: Her pale skin had turned waxy, and the usual roundness in her face had wasted away into bones. (The face is the last to go in illness or starvation, came one of his apprenticeship lessons.)
The beastcrafter had been torn between relief and numbing regret as the shroud was re-wrapped, Karredy interred, and he tossed the first shovelful of sandy earth; Gisellaine tossed the second, before ghosting off to Zedorianth and heading between with barely enough time to take off. As the crowds dwindled away, Gerran stayed by the mound with two of the canines to keep watch.
From what exactly, he couldn't say--keeping the wild felines from scavenging, most likely. Even if the grave was more than deep enough to keep the smell from attracting scavengers.
"I should have locked you in Greym's hold the minute you asked to come with us," he told her. A moment later, he pressed his lips and added, "Or took you to the healers when you started complaining about a cold; it's nearly summer."
Layka had been too overcome to attend the funeral, and Gerran didn't know what to make of seeing his youngest daughter for the last time: Her pale skin had turned waxy, and the usual roundness in her face had wasted away into bones. (The face is the last to go in illness or starvation, came one of his apprenticeship lessons.)
The beastcrafter had been torn between relief and numbing regret as the shroud was re-wrapped, Karredy interred, and he tossed the first shovelful of sandy earth; Gisellaine tossed the second, before ghosting off to Zedorianth and heading between with barely enough time to take off. As the crowds dwindled away, Gerran stayed by the mound with two of the canines to keep watch.
From what exactly, he couldn't say--keeping the wild felines from scavenging, most likely. Even if the grave was more than deep enough to keep the smell from attracting scavengers.
"I should have locked you in Greym's hold the minute you asked to come with us," he told her. A moment later, he pressed his lips and added, "Or took you to the healers when you started complaining about a cold; it's nearly summer."