Post by Azhdarchid on Sept 18, 2013 17:02:15 GMT -5
Halventh no longer recalled the particulars of the Flight, disastrous as it had been. He could- and did -access L'xon's memories of it for context, but they were confusing, like living in the body of somebody else. For a dragon vicariousness was a frequent possibility, but applied only to the present. These stranger-memories disoriented more than helped. He did not stop trying, exactly, but this evening L'xon noticed the blue had grown fairly quiet about it. It was the same cycle every time, be it the death of the queen, his own near-death experience, or even ordinary Threadscore. Halventh tried to be concerned, but eventually his in-the-moment nature betrayed him, fading the past.
Why are you bringing him a gift? the dragon nosed playfully as they glided toward the new ledge. L'xon's mental presence did not stir, not even to slam down the bait for what it was, and his mount grumbled. When the man had dismounted, Halventh slithered after him, then blew across the top of his head to unsettle the strands of his rich yellow hair. That did get L'xon to stop and eye him while he patted his bangs out of his eyes. Does not look much different from usual, Halventh crowed, but to his surprise his rider took offense- and he immediately regretted his words.
L'xon's hands touched the sides of his nose, and Halventh's eyes brightened as he refocused on the man. L'xon rested forehead to snout. It was better than a kiss. The dragon wobbled, then sank his body to the cooling stone of the ledge, blinking blissful greens as L'xon turned back into the weyr.
After that, Halventh popped back up on all fours and hunted around for Mifth, then approached the other blue with wings open, legs prancing, and fangs showing. Snarling and bellowing, twice his usual size. There was more than one way to greet another beast, especially another frequent competitor. If Halventh went quiet it was only because he was holding in as much breath as he could to puff up his chest.
"Knock, knock," L'xon said rather than making a customary notice on the archway to the inner weyr. Like any good rider, he could drown out the rumblings of the giant wherries he left behind. His hands framed a large bottle of Benden's best. He lifted it forward, eyes still sorting out the dimness of the warren, and shrugged. "Seems silly now. We can get anything we need here." Standing sharp, clean, and in his working leathers- because this was work -the bluerider still held out his worthless offering like a statue looking for a fountain to pour in. "But as you might have guessed I am here to apologize. For Halventh." And me was unnecessary when a rider spoke of his dragon's faults.
Why are you bringing him a gift? the dragon nosed playfully as they glided toward the new ledge. L'xon's mental presence did not stir, not even to slam down the bait for what it was, and his mount grumbled. When the man had dismounted, Halventh slithered after him, then blew across the top of his head to unsettle the strands of his rich yellow hair. That did get L'xon to stop and eye him while he patted his bangs out of his eyes. Does not look much different from usual, Halventh crowed, but to his surprise his rider took offense- and he immediately regretted his words.
L'xon's hands touched the sides of his nose, and Halventh's eyes brightened as he refocused on the man. L'xon rested forehead to snout. It was better than a kiss. The dragon wobbled, then sank his body to the cooling stone of the ledge, blinking blissful greens as L'xon turned back into the weyr.
After that, Halventh popped back up on all fours and hunted around for Mifth, then approached the other blue with wings open, legs prancing, and fangs showing. Snarling and bellowing, twice his usual size. There was more than one way to greet another beast, especially another frequent competitor. If Halventh went quiet it was only because he was holding in as much breath as he could to puff up his chest.
"Knock, knock," L'xon said rather than making a customary notice on the archway to the inner weyr. Like any good rider, he could drown out the rumblings of the giant wherries he left behind. His hands framed a large bottle of Benden's best. He lifted it forward, eyes still sorting out the dimness of the warren, and shrugged. "Seems silly now. We can get anything we need here." Standing sharp, clean, and in his working leathers- because this was work -the bluerider still held out his worthless offering like a statue looking for a fountain to pour in. "But as you might have guessed I am here to apologize. For Halventh." And me was unnecessary when a rider spoke of his dragon's faults.