Post by Azhdarchid on Nov 12, 2013 23:06:07 GMT -5
Fortbred, L'xon was used to cruelty beyond Dalibor's powdery winters. A twitch from his landed dragon's wings cleaned the roof of the Candidates' Barracks, ropes of sparkling white tumbling from the metal like water. Snowflakes whirled up and stuck to his cheeks and the narrow swatch of his winter beard. He tucked his chin to his collar as he dismounted, leaning up against Halventh's arm after he'd made his first prints in the snow cover. Halventh's nose dropped and the dragon pulled on the knitting of Lex's winter hat.
The sunny, mild sky might have invited most lizards to basking, but Halventh remained seated outside the Barracks, almost formal in his composure, looking groundward after L'xon rather than trying to spy any shiny wings opening above. He thought about calling Yusk out, but L'xon forbid it. The wher would be saying her piece too, one way or another. Though they had landed at the barracks, Lex navigated to Yuri's den in the Quarters. That is where it seemed kindest to meet a Handler by daylight, though Yuri was not quite the same as the rest of Dalibor's pride.
He shuddered once he stepped out of the sunlight, blinking as he walked through the empty halls decorated by the occasional heavy growl. The sounds had no one point of origin, and echoed around and around the alleyway. He walked through a storm that had not yet stirred. The snow on his dark blue coat- a Day'ar gift -melted, and he went through the arch to Yuri's office. He sat, and had the urge to feather his hair with his hand, but ignored it. The yellow mop splayed over the top of his head in its usual languid heap, brown eyes soft but alert beneath. Yuri's physical firmity was a reassurance, like seeing the Star Stone rooted every day to the same crop of the Rim.
"I am here to turn myself over to you and your peers," he explained once the Candidatemaster had settled. "I have been bedding one of your Candidates." Came out easy as a thought, not even real. "And now I have reported it. Do what is necessary with me, and discuss the matter with the proper people. Jasmine, Nim- Nimara, the Weyrwomen. The Weyr. However, you will have to inform them all...that I will not tell you her name."
With his head bowed, his lips could make out a silent I apologize without fear of discovery. Because that was the promise he had made to himself: no more saying he was sorry. "I apologize." But the words escaped, and his whole tone wrenched free of rock-like catatony. L'xon covered his traitor mouth with his hand, fixing not the floor or the wall but Yuri under his shocked stare.
The sunny, mild sky might have invited most lizards to basking, but Halventh remained seated outside the Barracks, almost formal in his composure, looking groundward after L'xon rather than trying to spy any shiny wings opening above. He thought about calling Yusk out, but L'xon forbid it. The wher would be saying her piece too, one way or another. Though they had landed at the barracks, Lex navigated to Yuri's den in the Quarters. That is where it seemed kindest to meet a Handler by daylight, though Yuri was not quite the same as the rest of Dalibor's pride.
He shuddered once he stepped out of the sunlight, blinking as he walked through the empty halls decorated by the occasional heavy growl. The sounds had no one point of origin, and echoed around and around the alleyway. He walked through a storm that had not yet stirred. The snow on his dark blue coat- a Day'ar gift -melted, and he went through the arch to Yuri's office. He sat, and had the urge to feather his hair with his hand, but ignored it. The yellow mop splayed over the top of his head in its usual languid heap, brown eyes soft but alert beneath. Yuri's physical firmity was a reassurance, like seeing the Star Stone rooted every day to the same crop of the Rim.
"I am here to turn myself over to you and your peers," he explained once the Candidatemaster had settled. "I have been bedding one of your Candidates." Came out easy as a thought, not even real. "And now I have reported it. Do what is necessary with me, and discuss the matter with the proper people. Jasmine, Nim- Nimara, the Weyrwomen. The Weyr. However, you will have to inform them all...that I will not tell you her name."
With his head bowed, his lips could make out a silent I apologize without fear of discovery. Because that was the promise he had made to himself: no more saying he was sorry. "I apologize." But the words escaped, and his whole tone wrenched free of rock-like catatony. L'xon covered his traitor mouth with his hand, fixing not the floor or the wall but Yuri under his shocked stare.