Sensible minds -P'nay-

[fidelli]

In a whirlwind of activity and color Nim was in the room. And it wasn't a quiet entrance, mind you. No music, no speaking, but the air seemed to grow thicker and in a fiery burst of ferocity she had entered. The marching was more of a furious tornado, elegantly danced, but the very air of personality around her was dominant, prowling, the air of one who had not yet grown up but had seen too much. She was angry, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and rage, with a stiff set to her shoulders, cradled under the too-big tunic she wore. Her spine was rigid under the clothing, big feet clunky in a pair of men's boots under a pair of breeches that were wide enough they looked like a skirt, but were indeed legged. Her nose, beaky, was wrinkled, and a smooth forehead was marred by the small slashes her eyebrows created in the skin.

Where, you may ask? Why into the infirmary, my dear reader. Into the infirmary she marched, one slim hand raking through short cropped strawberry blond hair while the other pressed a blood soaked clothe to her cheek. Blue eyes blazed out, glazed slightly in pain - but fury helped to keep her alive, and she ignored the pain. Generally a masochist - and a sadist too, but who was counting - even this was a little to the extreme. Her cheek was laid out to the bone, slashed with a knife from a drunk runner, her punishment for calling him out as a cheater. From what she heard from the other people, she was lucky - and stupid. Gritting her teeth, she swore - soldiers cant, not ladylike words. The colorful words hurt though, and she clenched the free hand, yet another reminder when the few scraps on her knuckles began to bleed again.

"This is utterly ridiculous and I will see him dead." Her murmur was for the scarlet blood she looked at, pulling away the pad with a wince. She had grown up with a Healer, so she knew - keep pressure on it, and she knew by the feel of it, the cut would require stitches. It was why she was here, seeking her older brother or A'mor's work mate. It was A'mor - and he berated her as he stitched her up, numbweeded her up, and let her deny the fellis. A light wrap for her knuckles, and he sent her outside for the waiting White. Zuchie had been napping when it had gone on - and he seemed less than happy now, as he dragged himself behind her. I should not have napped. You could have died.

The wound was now taped up, and it didn't look as awful, but she would probably have a thin scar there. But she was alright, and was trying to calm down Zucherroth. "Hush, my love, it's alright! Come on, we'll go out and play in the bowl." She broke into a run, letting the White follow behind at his own pace - she had no worry, despite the little part of him that never actually developed. As she ran, she let it all go - the pain, the worry, the temper, everything, and by the time she slowed she was feeling better. Lazily, the young woman flipped herself up on her hands, balancing carefully and talking a few tentative 'steps' forward and backwards. Her shirt was tucked only in the front, saving her modestly slightly, but the pant legs slipped down and the sleeves fell as well, showing off a girl who might not be as fat as her clothing showed off.

The White arrived a few moments after, still trundling along. He was remorseful, still upset - but Nim refused to let him stay down. She amused him by sending him pictures of the world spinning as she did cartwheels, and upsidedown as she walked around - in fact, she was upside down when Zucherroth swung his head around to 'look', telling her in a much more happy tone, Someone is nearing, MineOwn.

[Admin]

You're reachin' out,
And no one hears your cry.
You're freakin' out again,
'Cause all your fears remind you.

P'nay was lost. He didn't know what he was going to do. Everything had lost its fun. Still, he was trying to become less lost. He couldn't believe R'ish was gone, so he went on believing that R'ish couldn't really be gone. He could get R'ish back. He wasn't sure how, because love still didn't seem like a solid option. However, with a fierce dedication and a great deal of being annoyed by his four young firelizards, he came up with an option. In the end, it began to seem better in his mind than it came out in practice, and it eventually drove him to abandon his weyr for the bowl. There, all he had was his depression, the sinking feeling of being alone. Annith brushed into his mind, trying to fight it back, clear it away with gentle feelings. It persisted, despite her, but it didn't make him feel desperate and sad. It made him feel angry and desperate and a little sad.

Marching with his shoulders shrugged up and his head low, he made his way across the bowl with no thought to where he was going. He just wanted to be away from those useless creatures! He just wanted R'ish to be back! In his head, he heard Annith croon. His steps paused. He sighed. Plain anger turned to something more apologetic. It was his own fault. He'd let it all happen. He'd even let R'ish walk away, and he could have at least physically tried to stop the pinkrider. Again, he felt Annith croon for him, so far away. Trying to smile, just for her, he started off again, becoming more aware of his surroundings.

With that, he stumbled upon Zucherroth and Anima. He'd met the weyrling when she had been trying not to be a candidate. She'd gotten quite angry at him, as he remembered it. She appeared to be standing on her hands. Beneath her clothes, which were set all askew by her odd position, he could see that she was pretty. His mind raged against that thought. Now could he! He was a traitor to his cause! He wanted R'ish back, and she was too young, still a weyrling yet, and probably not interested. Anyway, she had a sewed up cut across her cheek. It ruined the effect of her, though he would have said that it suited her, had he been in the mood. Instead, he greeted her simply, stopping in his track. "Hello." His voice came out quiet, uninspired. His eyes looked rather dead, skin dark around them from a lack of sleep. He didn't look healthy.

It was then that Annith left their weyr. The trip that had taken him minutes of agonizing wandering of thoughts, feelings, and feet took her but an instant. She alighted behind him with another calming croon. Hello Zucherroth; she said to the blind white, adding a thrum of greeting for him to make absolutely sure he knew where she was as she settled her wings against her back with a rustle. Her extra kindness for him wasn't meant as any thought of fault to his abilities. It was simply in her nature to be coddling. If she thought it caused him offense, she never would have done anything of the sort, though she was in an off mood due to her rider. His state put a strain on her. She wanted him happy.

In her wake came a flurry of firelizards - a young blue, brown, brown, and black. At the sight of them coming to settle on a nearby rise of earth, P'nay let loose an undignified screech. Ignoring him, the blue proceeded to cue up his brothers and they launched into a stirring lament. For a moment, the yellowrider paused, listening to their odd song with a sad look. Then he broke it, waving his arms wildly at them. "If you can't learn a sharding love song, you are dead me;" he hissed at them. About then, the black, Stage, seemed to notice they had an audience other than P'nay. With a shake, he flew to hide around his bonded's neck. The yellowrider let out a sigh and petted them. "Alright, Carol is dead to me. I like Junior and Capella too much, and you're too sweet, Stage;" he murmured to them. The bronze and the brown came over to him, rubbing their heads against his head. The blue chattered angrily. P'nay glanced at Anima. His mood felt somewhat lightened. He grinned at her, as if he wasn't crazy.

Another dream has come undone.
You feel so small and lost,
Like you're the only one.
You wanna scream.

[fidelli]

Even as some Yellowrider's ran around loosing themselves, Nim was quite content to stay with her feet perfectly on the ground. Err, straight up in the air. She knew that boys and her did not get along, and she knew that with a White as her lifemate - and a blind one at that - she would never have to worry about Flight's. She also knew that she was not interested in females of any kind - she had been kissed once by one, and decided that it was not for her. So, she had deduced rather calmly, she would thusly die a virgin. She wasn't really upset about it - a little bummed that she wouldn't even get kissed, but Zuchie wasn't upset over it, so she wasn't either. And if fact, that wasn't even what she was really thinking about, walking around upside down. She was more thinking about where her Bronze flit had gotten off to, and if it meant that Aren was with him begging meet from the kitchens.

They are together, AnimatamoraMine. The White had perked up - what else could he do? And had flopped down on the floor, tilting his sightless eye up to Rukbat. Would you like me to fet- Ah, they come now.

[/i]Giggling, she carefully walked a few paces so that she could face Zucherroth - and in doing so found herself looking at a pair of legs. Her mouth twisted to the side, she backed up a few paces and looked again, even as he greeted her. P'nay, of the Yellow Annith. She had remembered him, cocky, arrogant, happy, sure she would Impress. And with a ragged blush of color to her cheeks, she realized that she had Impressed. 'Hello.'

He is sad, hurt, angry. It pulses from him rather loudly. I wonder what happened to him, AnimatamoraMine? But he was done talking to her as he felt the gentleness, the pure sweetness that was Annith as she glided closer, and he turned to "look" at her, chirrping a welcome. Hello Zucherroth. He settled his wings, copying her, and greeted her. Hello Annith! Are you alright? AnimatamoraMine, will you not say hello? Her White's call had brought her from staring at Annith - who looked so much bigger next to Zuchie - back to P'nay, although she didn't shift down yet. "Hello P'nay."

And then she was amused by a rather funny sight, even as Zuchie's sweet amusement helped to boost that. Oh, look how wonderful! Greetings, little cousins - I believed your song to be lovely! She watched it all, still on her arms, laughing softly as they behaved as lizards did, letting Zucherroth have the joy of it. Annith, your little ones are beautiful! Our's is quite nice though he does not sing like them! As though summoned, Klepto burst from the air and began to chatter to His, until he saw the threat. Immediately he shrieked, fluttering over to Zucherroth and scolding his. Only then did Nim flip gently over, straightening up while dusting off her hands. "They are quite amusing - did you get those at the hatching?" Pleased that His had indeed risen, he landed on her shoulder's in a claim very obvious - but she ignored them. "I think it's neat you taught them to sing."

Aren comes. And indeed, behind the Bronze came the big black and white dog, now fully grown and twice as big as before - a lumbering, sweet monster. She greeted Boss happily, snuffling her before darting over to P'nay to sniff at him. So many new creatures! And she remembered the smell of Annith, the happy Yellow, and after greeting the White, she danced over to Annith to daintily sniff at her. Nim only rolled her eyes. "Well, the party's allllllll here. Erm, what's up P'nay? Zuchie say's you... Look sad?" As weird as it was, her dragon could see things - just not the normal thing, and so help her, if P'nay made one crack that Zuchie was not a real dragon or that he couldn't see she would probably have to him, F'del and consequences be damned. Blue eyes defiant, she was still curious, even as Zucherroth quietly told her, Tell him that you do not mean to pry. Annith, we do not mean to sound nosy, but are you and Your's alright? She relayed her dragon's words - he was much better at things like this than her. "I don't mean to pry, of course."[/blockquote][/size]

[Admin]

And I'd give up all of my days to go back,
There was all this wonder,
And all this magic,
Has all this wonder, over and done.

I am fine; Annith assured Zucherroth. It was the truth. She was in pain, but only for her rider. She wasn't lost, not like him. She had ideas of what to do, but he wouldn't listen to her and didn't understand. She was trying to so hard to gently make him see, but she wouldn't force him. She nurtured him and cared for him. She wasn't designed to force, not until the last straw was drawn and all the cards were laid out. The game wasn't over yet. She had hope and faith. It would work out. So, somehow, she answered the little blind white with honest cheer.

P'nay nodded halfheartedly in response to the origins of his little quartet. He scratched Junior. The quiet brown was soothing in his own way. He had been rightly named after Annith. He made a halfhearted face at the thought of teaching them to sing. He wished. If he had, he should have been able to teach them to sing what he wanted, but he couldn't. They wouldn't. Carol didn't like him infringing on his creativity, as if the grumpy, stuck-up little blue had any creativity in him. He had briefly tried on just Stage, but the black wouldn't sing for anyone besides him without his brothers, and Carol wasn't exactly going to help him convince the black. It was futile. As if it had even been going to work at the start. It was a stupid idea. It was going to fail miserably. It was hopeless. Faranth. It lanced through his mind sharply. He pushed it back. Never. He had some stubbornness in him. Never. He couldn't find interest in anything else. It was awful. He had to make it better.

They are quite nice, aren't they? Annith hummed pleasantly. She was fond of the little flitters. They were a part of the family that was her and P'nay. R'ish had been a part of it too, and Gyth. Some part of her felt a little bit lost too, but it was mainly just her rider. She remained solidly upbeat. Stage and Junior stayed with P'nay, but Carol, gathering himself up, and Capella, put off a bit by the sight of another bronze, came and settled on her. She peered down at the big canine she remembered from long ago. The hulking creature was even bigger. She thrummed happily at the Aren. Curious, Capella peered at her. He then decided he wasn't interest. He gave Carol a curious poke. The blue squawked him and shuffled farther away. He was concentrating.

P'nay eyed the whiterider sharply at her question. It wasn't because he thought she was prying. It was just because he had to hunt down the reasoning himself. Why was he so obviously upset? Where in all of Pern was he? He sought out the feelings and the words. It was an odd exercise. It had never been needed before, and, then, all of a sudden, it was. For R'ish. Even if nothing was fixed or made better, he wasn't going to be able to forget. Not that time. The memories weren't made stupid enough in his mind to make him forget. They were burned with painful loveliness into his mind "I didn't teach them to sing;" he started, addressing her words on his pets while he was trying to answer her question.

Then everything came rushing out. He didn't stop, seeking to properly explain. "R'ish, the pinkrider, of Gyth, and I broke up. Well, broke up as we can break up. I wasn't aware that we were in an exclusive relationship. He just said we weren't but we needed to be, because he loved me. He said he didn't blame me for anything, but we simply couldn't be together. Now I'm depressed. Not in a bad. Well, yes, in a bad way, but not a bad bad way. A horrible way, but only a sort of mind blowing thing. I believe my heart is sort of working. I'm angry as well as sad. Just a little bit. Not so much at him. I want him back. It hurts. I'm not sure what to do though. I'm not good at this, and it's stupid, and it hurts." His thoughts started to dissolve, and he shut up, glancing furtively at Anima. Why had he told her? What did she know? He was feeling grumpy. He sighed, and then slumped. He wasn't grumpy. He was just tired, so tired, of life, of the situation. He wanted the pain gone. He wanted it fixed.

I can't let you go,
I can't let you go,
You're part of my soul,
You're all that I know.

[fidelli]

I am fine. The White could sense the honesty behind the words, and felt much better for it – it was good that she was alright. Her’s wasn’t, but one out two wasn’t at all bad. And he was happy that she could still be cheerful. In his own way he admired that, resolved to be more like her when His was being stupid and silly, letting her hotheadedness control the more delicate parts of a game that should be dealt with coolly. It would, if Annith could do it, all work out. And he had great faith in the pair of Bonded – the love they had for each other was a constant trill, a beautiful glimmer of hope at the end of a dark tunnel.

Meanwhile, Nim was watching P’nay, mouth twisted to the side in thought and confusion. He didn’t seem to think, if the nod was anything to go by, that they could sing – but with a little practice he would have a regular Harper quartet. They were just babies, after all. Klepto hummed, as if reminding her that he was there, and she rubbed his eyeridge softly to keep him quiet. It was all males, and he was rather possessive of His when he thought she was going to be snatched away. Of course, Nim knew this was ridiculous, but what would you do? She wanted to offer an idea, offer a tune that would help out them, starting a little easier, but it wasn’t her place – and she wasn’t about go making conversation with the Yellowrider. That was just silly – he seemed slightly on edge, different than the P’nay she had met before.

They are quite nice, aren't they? Zucherroth agreed, happily conveying his pleasure back to her – it was scary, this group of pure sweetness and happiness put together. Maybe had Zucherroth been another color he would have liked Annith more, would have perhaps tried to convince His to Fly her – but as it was and as he was, he was just happy to be friends, to be happy with her sunny disposition next to his sweet one. Aren, pleased at the noise, trotted closer to wag her tail harder, and lapped around to settle back at Boss Lady’s feet, still ridiculous pleased. Nim found it slightly depressing that Zuchie and Aren were such sweet creatures and she was so awful, but it was as it was – at least Klepto could be meaner than a bunny.

Of course, any thoughts about sweetness disappeared as P’nay suddenly focused on her, really focusing on her. She stood her ground, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him back, ever in the defensive. He would say something about Zuchie seeing, or yell at her for prying into business that clearly wasn’t hers. But as she readied herself for the attack, Zuchie held her back. No… It’s okay, he is just confused. He’s… Searching for an answer. The White didn’t often focus on one person like that, trying to read, and he seemed just as confused as Nim was. Could all White’s do this? Did all dragon’s do this? Or was Zuchie a HAP – Hear-All-People? That was an interesting thought – if there were humans like that, were there dragon’s?

‘I didn't teach them to sing.’ She was knocked from her odd revelations by his words – completely a different conversation that she had said in order to be polite. “Oh… Well-“ And then she was cut off as he began to talk, a stream of words that seemed as though he had just lifted the dam. ‘R'ish, the pinkrider, of Gyth, and I broke up. Well, broke up as we can break up. I wasn't aware that we were in an exclusive relationship. He just said we weren't but we needed to be, because he loved me. He said he didn't blame me for anything, but we simply couldn't be together. Now I'm depressed. Not in a bad. Well, yes, in a bad way, but not a bad bad way. A horrible way, but only a sort of mind blowing thing. I believe my heart is sort of working. I'm angry as well as sad. Just a little bit. Not so much at him. I want him back. It hurts. I'm not sure what to do though. I'm not good at this, and it's stupid, and it hurts.’

Nim just stared at him, face in shock. Oh, crap. Hey! She wanted to revolt, to back pedal, to throw her hands up in the air and explain that she was NOT the person to be talking to about this. And as he was about to speak, Zuchie was right there, hushing, calming her down. It is alright AnimatamoraMine. Breath in and out. She shut her mouth and tried to focus on Zuchie, letting him take the lead. Mine, try to see from his point of view. You are good at that. Nim – taking another deep breath, settled her bum on the ground and looked up at him, taking the feed off of Zuchie and what she had heard about the relationship so far.

“…Well…” Oh cripes, Zuchie. The patient mind touching her helped her thorugh it, and she started again, mulling out loud her thoughts. “You… You must like him. Even more than just like him, if you want him back. I’ve heard stories about you, P’nay, me and Zuchie… And when that Greenrider showed up, the one that almost started a fight, he was your lover? But you could put him past, because you had R’ish… You loved the Greenrider, the first one?”

As she started to talk she began to loosen up, prompted by the White and her own mind. “You’re lucky, you know. You have someone who loves you… Though I don’t understand why it’s hard. If it’s pride, than you have to swallow it… If it’s fear, than you have to buck up, laddy. You have Annith, who cares and wants to see you happy…” She narrowed her eyes, trying to read him. “Zuchie say’s that… You’re upset, and that it almost seems as if… If you’re bleeding, quietly. He says… It’s like, does crying make sense? It’s as if your head is bowed, against a windstorm, and you can’t get through…” She blinked up at him, almost sheepish. “But if you’re this upset over him, and you’re flits are singing love songs… Than maybe you just have to take a few more steps through the windstorm and the ending is right there… If you want him back, you should fight for it. Simple as that. And I don’t think R’ish is the type to hurt people if he can’t help it. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t want to be hurt, y’see, especially if that Greenrider had already hurt you…”

She ended up speaking to her hands, ill at ease with this conversation but knowing that Zuchie wanted to help and saying it… Maybe he would understand it better if it came out of someone else’s mouth. “My brother say’s that love is a gift, and you don’t get it often… And if you’re lucky enough to be a person that someone loves, than you should take it, and hold on to it as hard as you can…” She looked up at him then, shrugging. “If R’ish really does like you, and rumor’s says that he does, than you have to go for it. You seem like a loveable person – Uncle F’del said you were a kind person, and not all people get the chance to be good and kind and loved.”

The White shifted over to press against the back of His, sending those warm thoughts he was good at straight to her. You will find love to, Mine - no need to sound so upset over it. You are hurt now, I feel, and I am sorry that I cause that… But love is important, especially love that is shown between two people not related. The girl shrugged, fighting to find herself, the tough girl she was good at being that dove into things head first, and slipped into the carefree attitude fast. It’s alright Zuch – I don’t believe it love anyway. P’nay just looks so upset…

[Admin]

I was alone, falling free,
Trying my best not to forget
What happened to us,
What happened to me,
What happened as I let it slip.
I was confused by the powers that be

P'nay didn't look at Nim as she spoke. He couldn't. Her words rushed over him. Each one hit him with a different force, making him twist around inside. L'oren came up. The hopelessness grew stronger. All the disappointment and loss from that and before welled up, threatening him. He'd messed up before, and it was going to be no different that time around. It was his fault, for letting it happen, for acting as he had. It was his fault that he hadn't seen what was happening. It would be better if he disappeared. It would be better if he faded. It would be better if he let it go. It would be better if he simply let go. It was hard, so hard, all the ideas. He couldn't take it. He didn't understand it, himself, what was happening, some of what she was so clearly saying to him. A numbness tried to push it away, tried to reap him and rip away from it so he would fall.

Yet, he was lucky to have Annith, and stayed away from that path. She thrummed in his mind, an unstoppable force in his head that wouldn't leave and wouldn't let him fall. Never. If he past, so would she, and she didn't want him to past, so she would not. They would not go. It would be alright. Her optimism and faded decisiveness gave him some strength. It sought a solution, even as he was lost. He listened to what Nim told him, letting the words roll on through his mind. There was a hole in him, and he waited for it be filled with some truth. He waited to be told what he was looking for through it all. He waited to be told how he was going to fix it. However, slowly, he began to realize all the pieces were already there. He knew what was happening. He just had to put it together and he didn't know how. He reached out blindly for the tools for it.

R'ish. It was about R'ish. It had been his fault, but that wasn't enough to break him. Not that time. The only thing that broke him was the fact there wasn't anymore R'ish beside him, and that brokenness could be fixed. Unlike all the other broken parts of him, it could be fixed. It wasn't about pride. He had no pride. He had long ago sacrificed all pride. It was about the fear, the constant fear he had and the growing fear of what was going to happen. It was silly, though; he beginning to see how silly it was. He was more scared of what would happen if he didn't fix it, of a future he couldn't see. He was scared that he couldn't see what would occur if things didn't get better. Annith gave solutions, but he couldn't picture them with her as he should have. He was so much less scared of more rejection, which was so miraculous and surprising.

It was like crying on the inside. Crying and dying. They, the blind white who knew too much and his rider, saw through him. They knew the truth. The facade of happiness was already breaking and they could see through it. He had been dying for a while, slowly, for turns and turns. Annith had slowed it, made it stop, made it a death that wouldn't come to death. R'ish made it better. He didn't have to pretend around R'ish. The happiness was pure and simple then, and, with it gone, it hurt. What had he let himself fall into? What had he let happen to himself? Something wonderfully awful. It hurt, so much, and he was still scared. Nim was saying how he had to fight for it. She was explaining to him what he had to do. As if she knew. He didn't blame her. He was thankful for her trying. She had a passion. He scrambled for more understanding of such ideas.

Love. What about love? R'ish loved him, but he didn't love the pinkrider the same. Of course he didn't. They weren't the same, but he did love. He loved R'ish. There was the realization, the needed knowledge. He supposed he had known, but this time it came stronger than any of the fear. With R'ish gone, he realized his old ways weren't as sharp. He supposed they would get worse again. The thoughts, the idea, would always be there, but he could make it work. All of that didn't mean he couldn't love. It had never been about love. Not true love. Not lasting love, which he was thinking he had found, if he could fix it, if he could make it better. Perhaps it wouldn't, and, Faranth, it was going to hurt in the end if it wasn't, but it would be worth it. The depression, the hopelessness, still flickered, but love was stronger. Love was painful but nice, in truth.

Nim had long ago finished speaking. Her words still ran on through him. Then they stopped, and they were replaced with some of his own. Faintly, he smirked. He wasn't a fighter. He wouldn't fight. Annith wouldn't let him. However, he was going to do something. He didn't have to fight. He would stalk. He would talk. He was going to fix it. A sweater. He could make a sweater. Everyone liked sweaters. He had once been quite good at them. He hadn't gotten much practice with knitting in several turns, but the steps still lay in his brain. He could teach the quartet to sing a good song, one that R'ish would like. He could ask F'let about it. Or just remember. There had to be one that he could remember. He could at least make a sweater. A sweater would make it better. It was a ridiculous thought, but it was progress. It was him.

"Thank you." Those were the only words that came out, despite all the ones rushing around in his head. Those were only for Annith and R'ish. Private. Secret. Oh, perhaps the fun would return! He looked up at Anima, and he grinned, like before, like he was whole and healthy, and it wasn't a fake. For a moment, it wasn't. With a touch of sadness still in his eyes, it was real. He drew in a deep breath. He hadn't breathed in a while, so it came as a relief that he hadn't realize. His smile faded slightly, but he straightened where he stood. It wasn't any pride. That was still long gone. However, the fear was being won over, and so he stood ready to do something. What still hung in the air a bit, but he had ideas. He nodded at her. "Farewell. I see you did quite well at not Impressing;" he said. A smirk tugged back stronger on his lips.

Annith let out a joyous croon. A turn for the better, so much better! Things would work out! She had always thought so. There was still the chance they wouldn't, but she failed to think on that. She simply stayed in her rider's mind, strong and lovingly firm. She would make sure he would be able to follow through, that he would remember that moment. Thank you, Zucherroth; she told the white in a soft voice that suggested that she would do anything for him that he ever needed. He and his rider had done so much! Nim spoke in a way that she couldn't think of, for which she was grateful. However, if her rider was going, she would go with him. She dipped her head in farewell. Quick as a wink, unable to laugh but at least smiling, P'nay scrambled up onto her back, away from anymore words from the whiterider. She had said enough. The moment of importance had passed.

Capella, Carol, Junior, and Stage were scattered into the sky as Annith took off, beating her wings in a hurry to be able to carefully avoiding any danger for the wonderful pair they were leaving and to still be able to rise. They followed her as she soared across the bowl, but, where she was silence while radiating a simple peace from the event, they sang with the turn of emotions from P'nay. It wasn't a happy or put together tune. However, even the bronze and brown joined in on the ringing trills of the more musical blue and black. P'nay smiled at them, glancing at Junior out of the corner of his eye before he closed them against the light wind that beat against him with Annith's motions. His smile fell with each beat of her wings, but his heart didn't. What was he going to do? Something, other than his snark in parting at Nim. It was an answer. Something. He could make a sweater. It was stupid, but it was something.

How it mattered to us,
How it mattered to me,
And the consequences,
I was confused,
By the birds and the bees,
Forgetting if I meant it.