Ruin
Wingrider 
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 18, 2011 11:25:29 GMT -5
If Sebolaren could have wished for any one present on his birthing day it would be that Xiro’el, upon receiving his birthing day present, would not attempt to maim or otherwise kill him. It was a small thing really, not very much to ask, but of course it could not be guaranteed—which was why he had decided to give the Trader his present privately, the day after the brutal annoyances at the party. Of course for it to properly be a surprise, and fun, he would require at least one great thing of his Trader, but in terms of what would happen after the surprise—well—anything could happen.
Early in the morning before the sky was even filled with light, he sent Sigard to rouse the man to a special meeting place—none other than their Weyrwall crevice. There he had arrived early and waited: Two items nestled within his large hands. He was excited, he couldn’t lie, but there was an apprehension which lent itself to the thrill—what would really happen. It had taken awhile—truth be told he had been planning this for moons and without the help of the Blue he may have never succeeded. It was, at long last, the time for all things to be revealed.
There, around the bend in the craggy cliff, the Trader appeared from the morning mist as if a shipfish in the deep sea, and behind him rose the bulk of his Cyan—who hopefully would not do her best to ruin his deception—his surprise. As they drew closer he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face: Although it might have been caused by nervousness.
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 18, 2011 11:37:36 GMT -5
Not being the most trusting of persons in the first place, Xiro'el had reacted to Sigard's arrival and subsequent message with some suspicion. He had every reason to believe that this mysterious message had everything to do with yesterday's fiasco of a birthing day party, but had absolutely no reason not to find out what it was his ex-herder friend was up to. By now the trader figured he should be at least a little wary of meeting giants in isolated places, but unlike other people he had known, Sebolaren probably did not have it in mind to lecture him.
I wonder if it's dangerous. I hope so. Things just aren't fun if they're not dangerous, Tigreath sulked behind him. Or rather, she sulked for approximately ten seconds and then brightened again, trotting after Hers with a lively flap of the wings. Can I fly there, Mine? she pleaded hopefully, and Xiro'el glanced back to eye her distrustfully. No, Tigs. The cyan heaved a sigh, and then settled down to walk along at the pace of her bonded.
Together they approached the cave entrance, and Xiro halted his dragon next to the Weyrwall, then approached Sebolaren with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face. Sebol certainly looked happy about something. "You wanted me?" The green gaze flicked pointedly to the large hands, and then back up again, and Xiro grinned. Tigreath warbled excitedly behind him, probably more thrilled than her human to be here. |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 18, 2011 11:41:38 GMT -5
”Yes,” the word was nearly explosive and it was easy to see the ex-Herder had sucked in a lungful of air to plunge on merrily, but for the sake of current company and the typically mistrustful member involved—he swallowed that air, reined himself in, and started again. ”I have a present for you, for your birthing day—as yesterday was fairly terrible I wanted to separated it from that event, and I wanted an honest Xiro’el reaction—not a; I’m in front of people I’d rather be stabbing at the moment reaction.”
Pausing, that slow smile spread across Sebol’s face and became somewhat wicked—but still all sorts of excited he was obviously failing to hide. ”There however one small tiny catch, and I know it’s a terrible thing to ask in light of yesterday, but keep in mind I am being open.” Extending his first hand, a length of thick pitch-black cloth fell from between his fingers and dangled there—dangerously—in the space between them. ”I need to blindfold you. You cannot know where we are going; it would be a dead-giveaway. I’m asking you to trust me. I promise this is no ploy. You will carry yourself there of your own power.”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 18, 2011 18:38:48 GMT -5
The enthusiasm in Sebol's voice was rather unmistakable, and Xiro lifted a brow upon hearing it. He didn't think he'd ever seen his blood brother so... well, so excited. It was difficult whether to decide if this was a good or a distinctly ominous sign. "Yesterday was fairly terrible." The trader's lips quirked, and then he grinned, having apparently gotten over the trauma of being kidnapped. No doubt his mood would fail if he caught sight of Edison for at least a few more days, but for now he was in a reasonably good humour.
Of course there was a catch. There was always a catch -- every trader ever born knew that. Sebol's enthusiasm tempered the mistrust that automatically sprang up, but his demand and the strip of black cloth still drew a narrow stare from Xiro'el. Right. That was definitely a catch, all right. Tigreath, sensing his dislike of the cloth, leaned over his shoulder and nipped it delicately out of Sebol's fingers, then flung her head about and bugled gleefully. Her rider had to laugh, and he turned, reaching up in an entreaty to his dragon to listen to him. "Tigs! Tigreath! Oh, you... striped blue creature with the stolen goods! Get your face down here," he ordered, and the cyan trilled, obediently lowering her head to the level of her rider's hands. He reached for the cloth, and Tigreath playfully flung her head skyward again, then pranced in a semicircle with wings half-furled and tail swishing.
"Tigreath," the trader exclaimed in exasperation, and the dragon in question dropped the blindfold neatly on top of his head. "Ha, ha. Very funny, dragon." He shook his head in disgust, and then plucked the black cloth off, wiping the dragon spit on Tigreath's face when she came back to try and steal it again. At last, theatrics over, he turned back to Sebol and raised a brow. "Tigs will guide me. I'll tell her not to let me know where we're going. Forgive me if I don't trust you after Edison jumped me." With that, the trader shrugged, moved to his dragon's shoulder, and tied the blindfold neatly over his own eyes before resting his hand on Tigreath's hide. "I'm good to go. Lead the way, Sebol." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 18, 2011 18:46:13 GMT -5
The theatrics entertained him greatly, and he was privately very thankful for Tigreath—she had defused a sensitive situation with laughter. He took absolutely no offense to the Cyan leading her Rider, but he did step forward and pause at her shoulder where he could look up into those swirling eyes. ”This is very important to me, Tigreath, I would very much like this to be a surprise—I would be eternally grateful if you could keep your thoughts to yourself and not tell Xiro’el where we are going.”
For once he did not attempt to bribe her through promises of danger—if anything she had proven herself entirely capable of thought outside of her extreme personality. With that said, and with no way to ensure it actually happened, he took off back through the Weyrwall at a sedate pace: The Trader wouldn’t stumble, of course, but it had to be somewhat awkward to hold on to the smooth dragonhide and attempt to walk—it meant enough that he’d accepted the blindfold.
”Not too long, we’re just going somewhere very special.” Special indeed—so special that the Trader would have absolutely no idea why they were there. When, at long last, they arrived at the stone building, he waved the Cyan down and went to stand beside his blood-brother.”She won’t fit inside. Do you think you could allow me to lead you the last few feet? You can follow after my voice if it’s preferable but I claim no responsibility for anything you stumble into!”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 18, 2011 19:24:18 GMT -5
Proud to be chosen as the leader of her rider -- sort of, anyway -- Tigreath warbled and arched her neck, looking down into the giant's face. He was tall, but not as tall as her! She was totally bigger! Okay! It'll be a secret! A DANGEROUS secret! she announced, and almost flapped her wings before remembering that her human was there and she was liable to whack him if she kept up those antics. Being injured did not equate to fun, so she folded her mainsails back against her sides and settled for twitching her tail back and forth instead. She didn't mind having to lead her human -- in fact, it was positively an adventure!
As it happened, Tigreath did not tell her human where they were going although her eyes widened and spun blue-green with curiosity when she noticed the building they were approaching. Obedient to Hers, however (who had reinforced Sebol's request with one of his own), she gave nothing away and issued only a soft croon of contentment when they stopped. Xiro'el stopped too, hand still resting on the powerful shoulder, and turned toward the sound of his blood brother's voice.
Deciding that Sebol not attacking him was a relatively good reason not to be paranoid, Xiro stepped away from his dragon, who promptly flopped down and stretched out all her limbs with a happy sigh. The cyanweyrling grinned, and tilted his face up towards the ex-herder. "I'm not keen on stumbling, and Tigreath will just eat you when you come out if you decide to attack me or something. I want to see what this mysterious present of yours is." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 18, 2011 19:38:14 GMT -5
”Fantastic,” Sebol murmured happily and used on large hand to gently take up the Trader’s nearest elbow and led him along into the cool stone interior. Of course it would be impossible to disguise where they were past that point—an everyday man would be able to tell much less a Holdless, but he carried on happily—leading the Trader down the corridor and past the quiet shuffles, wuffles, nickers, and nudges. He’d known this place as home for a moon before moving into the Barracks, and he was confident enough here that he found most of his residual worry washing away.
Stopping, finally, in one particular spot he leaned closer over the Trader—practically rumbling with excitement. ”Are you ready?” Once the affirmative was given—and he’d properly teased the man a bit by not releasing him, both by elbow and loosing the cover from his eyes, Sebol pointed him directly at what was the most obvious sign of something afoot: Covering the stall in front of them was his flag—the one he had flown with his wagon. Every colour pristine and bright, not a stitch out of place around the black canine head—proof that it had not been his hand to do it.
”The real secret, is behind,” Sebol spoke softly, unable to hide the mirth in his voice, and he pulled the flag down to expose what was behind. She obviously recognized him—it was apparent in her body language as her ears pricked forward and it became her intense desire to reach him with her upper lip. She had been groomed to shining, and tied around her neck was a line of beautifully coloured sashes—including a twin to the one Sebolaren had destroyed in the lake previously—both were his crowning glory in terms of acquisition. ”Perhaps now, you can name her.”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 18, 2011 20:25:06 GMT -5
Well, the place was certainly unmistakable. The scent of runners, hay, and leather was undeniable, as were the soft nickers and whuffling sounds that greeted him. Knowing that Sebol would never commit any sort of atrocity in a stable, Xiro relaxed and let the bigger man lead him along without resistance. He loved animals as much as his blood brother, and the warm presence of them calmed him as nothing else was likely to. When he was allowed to stop, the trader waited patiently and uttered an amused 'yes' at the question. There was a niggling suspicion growing in the back of his mind that he was not going to leave here without something he'd never thought of acquiring for himself, but the reality was far, far beyond what he possibly could have imagined.
His flag? Xiro's eyes widened, and he tilted his head, brows drawing together slightly. "Did you raid my..." That flag had been folded up neatly in the trunk in his room, hidden at the bottom with his other precious things, but this one was newer-- shinier -- of better craftmanship than his own banner had been. It paled utterly in comparison to what lay behind.
The cyanweyrling said nothing, merely stared for a moment before looking up at his blood brother with the telltale gleam of tears in his eyes. Unable to speak, though he tried, Xiro'el finally just shook his head and opened the stall door, leaving it agape as he approached the runner. She nickered to him, and took a small step forward to greet him and nibble at his hair. "You remember me," he whispered, and the mare twitched her ears, then lowered her head into his hands just as she had so many times before. Slender fingers traced the elegant lines of her face -- the full cheeks, straight profile, and the wonderful softness of her muzzle.
Xiro, forgetting that Sebol was even there, moved to her glossy sorrel neck instead, untying the beautiful sashes one by one and looping them over his own shoulders. They were all lovely -- so lovely -- but they paled in comparison to his sweet, sweet mare. She looked to be in good condition -- of course she would be, if Sebol had found her and possibly even kept her here in secret until she was properly nourished -- but that didn't stop Xiro'el from running his hands over every inch of her, feeling for injuries, tenderness, heat: anything that would indicate the people he'd sold her to hadn't taken care of here. Even her hooves were lifted and meticulously inspected for stones or injuries. There was nothing amiss, and at last his examination came full circle. The mare watched her old, and new, owner with liquid brown eyes, and nuzzled his chest when he returned to her head, lipping at his shirt.
"How did you find her?" The cyanweyrling finally asked, catching his mare's face in his hands and brushing the flaxen mane away from her forehead to reveal the star in the center. All of her chrome had been meticulously cleaned -- her three stockings were spotless, and she was the very picture of health. He looked just as she had when he'd sold her -- but sleeker, fatter, not dulled by the dust of sevendays' traveling. She was beautiful. And, as Sebol had reminded him... she was also nameless. "Should fix that, huh, girl?" he whispered, and reached up to rub the inside edge of one ear. She'd always loved that, and she leaned her head into the contact, heaving a sigh. Just like old times, he thought -- he remembered unhitching her after a long day's travel, standing in the firelight attending to her just as he was doing now. The nostalgia almost choked him, and Xiro'el fought down tears again as he looked to his blood brother. For once there was no deception in his face -- only raw gratitude, and love for the creature he had so missed though he'd never told anyone how much. "Thank you so much, Sebol. So much." |
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Aug 18, 2011 21:13:16 GMT -5
Knowing that the Trader would be swept away by the surprise—one way or another—Sebolaren chose to simply not speak, not to the query, and not to what he witnessed inside that stall. It was true he couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face, but he remained quiet and simply waited for the moment to pass between the Holdless and his mare—nothing could compel him to try to steal any of that moment for himself: It hadn’t even occurred to him.
Questions would come eventually, but for now, there was just the man and the runner who had born him across the Northern Continent—up until he’d had to sell her and leave the road for stone walls. It had never been a possibility in his mind that Xiro’el would not thoroughly check the mare—one of the many reasons he had gone over her carefully himself and groomed her until every last inch of her lit up like Rukbat, but it still warmed him to see the tender attention his blood-brother paid the mare.
He wasn’t simply lavishing her with love, he was actually going inch by inch to ensure she was whole—safe—well groomed and looked after. No better man existed to care for such a creature and at that moment he knew the decision to find her had been the right one. ”I think for now, that will be my secret, perhaps we can regale the story at a later time—you’d certainly much rather visit than hear all about it. Perhaps even let her out and see how she moves?”
The emotion in the Trader’s eyes, radiating from his being, for someone as empathic as Sebol it was impossible to ignore: He felt his eyes well with answering warmth in his heart. ”Only too glad to help, dear friend—I’ve been looking for her since you spoke of her: No man should be separated from that which he loves, not for duty, or need.”
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Sakoru
Drudge
THE FEARSOME FIERY BEAST
Posts: 11
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Post by Sakoru on Aug 18, 2011 22:22:28 GMT -5
Ever since coming to the Weyr, Xiro had made no secret of the fact that he missed the road, the open air and the freedom of trading -- but he had never told anyone, even Sebol, just how much he'd missed his mare. The road did not care who traveled upon it, the wind did not care who breathed it in -- but this sorrel, this sweet, willing, loyal little creature who had pulled his wagon all over the Northern Continent -- she remembered him, and she'd missed him. He knew by the way she kept her focus on him, by the way she kept nuzzling his shirt to bring his attention back to her in just the same manner she'd always used. The soft dark eyes were as expressive, as full of calm adoration as ever, and Xiro'el couldn't help but hold his mare's face still so he could kiss the elegant profile.
"Secrets are fine with me," he admitted in a soft voice, and then shifted around to the runner's side, lifting a hand to idly scratch the top of her neck. The sorrel turned her head to rub it against his torso, and Xiro automatically pushed her face away. "I'm not a tree," he informed her, and she snorted, then lowered her head to rub her muzzle against the inside of her foreleg. Watching, the trader's face lit in a soft smile, and he stroked the elegant neck, unable to keep his hands off her. She was more delicate than most wagonhorses, but her conformation was sound, her bones good and strong despite the fineness usually attributed to riding horses rather than those used to pull the caravanners' wagons. Despite her master's love of trading, she had never suffered the strain of an over-heavy wagon with him, and she showed no signs of having been worked too much after Xiro had sold her.
Eyes still stinging with unshed gratitude, the trader smiled and rubbed a hand along the mare's neck once more, then straightened her mane and gave her a decisive pat. "Well, I don't know how you found her, Sebol -- but I'm grateful, and I'm glad to have her back." With that, the cyanweyrling slipped out of the stall, but didn't close the door. Why bother, when he didn't need to? One hand rested momentarily on Sebol's arm, and then he flitted to the other side of the doorway, lifting the halter from its nail just on the outside of the mare's stall. He didn't take a close look at it, opting instead to return to his mare and slip the halter over her head. It fit perfectly.
It was only as he was leading the sorrel out of her stall that he noticed the gold, green and white thread stitched into the leather of the halter. Again, a smile dominated his face, and the trader glanced down at the line in his hands, too. It was a braided rope, fashioned of the same three colours as everything else, and Xiro couldn't help but chuckle softly. He made no comment, though, opting instead to guide the mare down the aisle to the fore of the stables and grab a spare line while he was at it, draping that too over his shoulders with the sashes. Tigreath, he thought, and felt the dragon perk up instantly, go get Lakeeti. She'll want to see her old friend. For once his cyan obeyed without question, and he felt her go bounding off back to the barracks. For his part, Xiro guided his mare out to the stableyard gates, and then beyond -- he knew just where he was taking her.
"Come on, love," he murmured, and as soon as the gate was latched shut again behind him, he set off for his destination. His progress was made somewhat slower by the fact that he shook out enough line to be able to move away from the mare slightly and watch her move. She was not limping or dragging her hooves, as he had suspected she wouldn't. And oh, she looked lovely in the sun -- gleaming coppery red, her flaxen mane and tail glowing where Rukbat's rays illuminated them against the air.
Forgetting that Sebol might actually be following him (or even that his blood brother existed at all), Xiro made his way to one of the smaller paddocks, one that had been left empty. He had almost never seen it being used despite passing this place half a dozen times a day at least, but that suited his purposes just fine: he brought the mare through the gate, and then pulled it shut behind him. "All right, old girl," he murmured, snapping the leadline off her halter and coiling it over his forearm, "show me how you do without a rider. Go on!" Pointing the sorrel's head in the right direction, he clucked to her, and she broke instantly into a trot, heading away from him over the short, yellowed grass. Scrutinizing her movements carefully, he tracked her progress -- again, no limping, and her movements were fluid and sound. She began curving around to return to him, and Xiro grinned, allowing her to come within twenty feet before he raised his arms. "Keep going!" he called to her, and she tossed her head, then brought her hindquarters well under her and launched into an easy canter. Long limbs extended, reaching for the earth, and then drew back in towards the shining body once more. The music of hoofbeats rang out and danced in his ears, and Xiro laughed aloud with delight, urging his mare on when she came breezing by him once more.
He kept her going for a time, monitoring her every stride to be sure she was as fit and sound as she seemed. She was, and when she circled back to him for the last time, he called an order to halt and she did. Pleased, Xiro approached his mare once more, and she extended her nose to him, whickering pleasantly as she allowed him to clip the lead back on. Now he unslung the other rope from his shoulder, and snapped it onto the other side of her halter, smiling. "No harnesses to slow you down and tire you out now. You haven't got a bit now -- so don't throw me, all right?" Not that she ever would. His little beauty might not be as well trained as Requias, but she was as willing a beast as he had ever met. Confident that she wouldn't drop him on the ground, he led her over to the fence (it had been a while since he'd tried vaulting onto a horse and really didn't care to mess it up and kick her or spook her), and climbed up. She watched him expectantly, calm as ever, and he slid onto her bare back, marveling in the warmth of her hide. The sorrel mare was nothing like Tigreath, but she felt just as natural, just as right, and just as familiar as if he'd ridden her only yesterday. He scooted into position, and then, drawing in a deep breath, nudged her into motion.
It was fully as he had expected, all grace and ease and pliable obedience beneath him. He put her through her paces -- a walk, first, and then the relatively smooth, easy trot that had helped him decide upon this very mare. At last he let her canter, breezing around the paddock effortlessly. She loved it as much as he did; when at last the trader slowed her to let her cool out, the mare nickered in disappointment and tossed her head. He laughed, and stroked the coppery neck in front of him as he eased her into a walk. "There, there, dear heart -- I know you want to run. Easy, though... easy, my lovely. We have all the time in the world now." These words ended the ride, although Xiro never wanted to slide from his mare's back, and he landed back on the ground reluctantly. Removing one of the leads and repositioning the other once more, he led her back to the gate where Sebol was waiting for him, and smiled, reaching up to stroke the mare's cheek as she put her head over his shoulder to whuffle inquiringly at Sebol. "She's as healthy as she was when I left her -- better, really, now that you've been caring for her." The signs of the ex-herder's care were rather obvious, after all.
You've been riding the reddish thing for a while, Tigreath observed, and it was only then that he noticed the bright blue shape sprawled out nearby. His mare hadn't even spooked at the sight of her. Now, however, she whinnied excitedly and tossed her head, and Xiro grinned, merely keeping a light hold on the lead line as Lakeeti bounded up and slipped under the fence to greet her long-lost friend. For a moment his face stilled, and then the cyanweyrling smiled -- not a big smile, but one more genuine than any he'd used so far at the Weyr. "Looks like my family's back together again. The only thing missing is the campfire." |
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