Post by Chek on Jul 30, 2013 16:12:07 GMT -5
*warning for bad jokes and worse pickup lines*
Some things made H’mod a little crazy.
“Drieth. We need firestone."
The advent of spring, and with it greenery, made H’mod twitchy. In many ways, she, ironically, was fairly traditional. Not to mention highly superstitious. If a black canine chased a black feline in front of her, she’d be the first to do the funny little dance that Minerfolk taught their children would ward off bad luck and cave-ins. Impressing Drieth had not lessoned her superstitions, no – her proper bronze actually encouraged her to pick up the new set of dragonrider sayings and habits that had been opened up to her.
One of the ones that drove her the most crazy was greenery in the Weyr. Yes, in the Bowl proper it was understandable to have a little grass to keep the entire Weyr from looking like one of Weyrlingmaster F’reki’s lessons; so despite it making her uncomfortable, she endured.
Greenery growing in the stone on the heights, on the other hand, was inexcusable and thus fair game to soothe her superstitious soul.
Drieth, of course reading her open mind, didn’t argue for a moment, levering himself from his drooping slump on their weyr ledge, where he’d been watching the wherhandlers start stirring for the evening. Yes, though your timing could be slightly better, I can’t fault your prerogative. Greenery on the heights – ugh, Threadbait. Intolerable in a proper weyr, and to a proper bronzepair, as we are.
“Y’almost sound like you’re trying to convince yourself there, hon. Haven’t heard that in a while,” H’mod slapped the side of his neck as she finished climbing her way up to settle between his neck ridges, more than secure enough for as little flying as they’ve be doing. She was carrying the bits of his harness she’d need to comfortably pack around firestone stacks, and her flight jacket staved off chill of both evening and it being that strange time between winter and spring.
She had finally stopped touching the Wingsecond patch that now was sewn to the shoulder in disbelief, thankfully. It had been embarrassing her dragon. Now she just took advantage of it to woo Weyrfolk. That embarrassed the bronze only slightly less.
They cast a darker shadow in the growing gloom over the wandering handlers below as they drifted towards the firestone store. I am merely reminding you. Sometimes, you seem to forget.
“Snippy! I remember, hon. I can count on one hand the number of folk who’ve figured out I’m not just a pretty longhaired lad. Sans the folk I’ve gone for a roll with, of course.”
Of course. H’mod, you don’t give your wingmates enough credit. He flared his wings and landed gently, crouching to let his rider down. She slapped him again in her loose climb to the ground.
“I’m joking, you mushbrain. I love you, but sometimes I worry about you.” She darted off and return moments later with a sack, more than enough to finish the job she had in mind, “I think they’re having the Weyrlings pre-stuffing the sacks again; Threadfall isn’t due for days. Unless I just ruined some carefully laid out drill plans.” She contemplated the bag for moment, then shrugged, “It’s good for them.”
The bronze huffed, but didn’t move as the sparce harness pieces were rigged up so H’mod had something to tie the sack to, I knew that. Drieth grumbled, then changed the topic because he actually had taken her seriously and didn’t want to admit it, It’s getting darker. You’ll need a torch or a great deal of glows to pick out the spots to scour. Orrrr… you can ask the bronzehandler wondering what we’re up to over there. I watch them, they do not have a patrol. He seems a sensible bronze, as well…even for a wher.
H’mod turned to look; sure enough, there was a woman and a massive bronze nearby; a wher did seem like a better companion for this task than a torch, so H’mod did what came natural, “Hey! Feel like getting hot and sweaty?”
Intentionally questionable word choice aside, her gear and the sack of firestone said she meant one thing, while her tone said a completely different and much more suggestive thing. Drieth just sighed, You’ll scare them off at this rate.
Some things made H’mod a little crazy.
“Drieth. We need firestone."
The advent of spring, and with it greenery, made H’mod twitchy. In many ways, she, ironically, was fairly traditional. Not to mention highly superstitious. If a black canine chased a black feline in front of her, she’d be the first to do the funny little dance that Minerfolk taught their children would ward off bad luck and cave-ins. Impressing Drieth had not lessoned her superstitions, no – her proper bronze actually encouraged her to pick up the new set of dragonrider sayings and habits that had been opened up to her.
One of the ones that drove her the most crazy was greenery in the Weyr. Yes, in the Bowl proper it was understandable to have a little grass to keep the entire Weyr from looking like one of Weyrlingmaster F’reki’s lessons; so despite it making her uncomfortable, she endured.
Greenery growing in the stone on the heights, on the other hand, was inexcusable and thus fair game to soothe her superstitious soul.
Drieth, of course reading her open mind, didn’t argue for a moment, levering himself from his drooping slump on their weyr ledge, where he’d been watching the wherhandlers start stirring for the evening. Yes, though your timing could be slightly better, I can’t fault your prerogative. Greenery on the heights – ugh, Threadbait. Intolerable in a proper weyr, and to a proper bronzepair, as we are.
“Y’almost sound like you’re trying to convince yourself there, hon. Haven’t heard that in a while,” H’mod slapped the side of his neck as she finished climbing her way up to settle between his neck ridges, more than secure enough for as little flying as they’ve be doing. She was carrying the bits of his harness she’d need to comfortably pack around firestone stacks, and her flight jacket staved off chill of both evening and it being that strange time between winter and spring.
She had finally stopped touching the Wingsecond patch that now was sewn to the shoulder in disbelief, thankfully. It had been embarrassing her dragon. Now she just took advantage of it to woo Weyrfolk. That embarrassed the bronze only slightly less.
They cast a darker shadow in the growing gloom over the wandering handlers below as they drifted towards the firestone store. I am merely reminding you. Sometimes, you seem to forget.
“Snippy! I remember, hon. I can count on one hand the number of folk who’ve figured out I’m not just a pretty longhaired lad. Sans the folk I’ve gone for a roll with, of course.”
Of course. H’mod, you don’t give your wingmates enough credit. He flared his wings and landed gently, crouching to let his rider down. She slapped him again in her loose climb to the ground.
“I’m joking, you mushbrain. I love you, but sometimes I worry about you.” She darted off and return moments later with a sack, more than enough to finish the job she had in mind, “I think they’re having the Weyrlings pre-stuffing the sacks again; Threadfall isn’t due for days. Unless I just ruined some carefully laid out drill plans.” She contemplated the bag for moment, then shrugged, “It’s good for them.”
The bronze huffed, but didn’t move as the sparce harness pieces were rigged up so H’mod had something to tie the sack to, I knew that. Drieth grumbled, then changed the topic because he actually had taken her seriously and didn’t want to admit it, It’s getting darker. You’ll need a torch or a great deal of glows to pick out the spots to scour. Orrrr… you can ask the bronzehandler wondering what we’re up to over there. I watch them, they do not have a patrol. He seems a sensible bronze, as well…even for a wher.
H’mod turned to look; sure enough, there was a woman and a massive bronze nearby; a wher did seem like a better companion for this task than a torch, so H’mod did what came natural, “Hey! Feel like getting hot and sweaty?”
Intentionally questionable word choice aside, her gear and the sack of firestone said she meant one thing, while her tone said a completely different and much more suggestive thing. Drieth just sighed, You’ll scare them off at this rate.
