Post by 4horseshowgirl4 on May 15, 2010 23:17:26 GMT -5
On the street where you live
Girls talk about their social lives
They're made of lipstick, plastic and paint
A touch of sable in their eyes
All your life all you asked
When is your Daddy gonna talk to you
But we're living in another world
Tryin' to get your message through
No one heard a single word you said
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
All those things he couldn't say
Ooh, she's a little runaway
A different line every night
Guaranteed to blow your mind
I see you out on the streets
Call me for a wild time
So you sit home alone
'Cause there's nothing left that you can do
There's only pictures hung in the shadows
Left there to look at you
You know she likes the lights
At night on the neon Broadway signs
And she don't really mind
It's only love she hoped to find
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
All those things he couldn't say
Ooh, she's a little runaway
No one heard a single word you said
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
Now she wants a night away
Girls talk about their social lives
They're made of lipstick, plastic and paint
A touch of sable in their eyes
It had taken her several months to prepare for this. It had only taken her a few minutes to know what she had to do. It had taken her quite a bit longer before she was ready to execute that plan. Xela sat, perfectly still, form inscrutable in the shadows, in the rafters of the stables, waiting for the last of the grooms to leave for the night. Sure, they'd leave the youngest of their lot to guard the runners during the night, but he would fall asleep near dawn. They all did. It wasn't like anything ever happened at night. A small knapsack was slung over Xela's shoulder, containing only her clothes and enough marks to get a ship to the Northern Continent. It was the marks that had taken her the most time to acquire. She was only an apprentice, and while her embroidery work was more skilled than most, thirteen-Turn-olds could hardly ask full price for their work. And, besides, most of those that could afford having their cloth decorated in such a manner were usually those who could afford paying a journeyman for the work. Xela's knitting and weaving were still clumsy, only suitable for clothing a drudge or apprentice, and her dying was no good at all. But it was no matter. She had the marks.
All your life all you asked
When is your Daddy gonna talk to you
But we're living in another world
Tryin' to get your message through
After the war, Xela had originally felt hurt. Despite her rocky relationship with her mother, Raelle had still been Xela's mom, and a Daliborian Dragonrider had killed her. She was gone, forever. Xela wasn't entirely sure how to react to that. She was sad, yes, and regretful that she had taken her mother for granted, fought with her instead of loved her. Her more logical side realized that for the past Turn, she'd essentially been motherless anyways. It wasn't like either of them had cared to maintain communication after Xela had entered the Weaverhall. But why had Raelle have to be punished for D'ror's mistake? It had not been her idea to kidnap the Weyrleaders' child!
No one heard a single word you said
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head
So, then Xela had been angry, for Dalibor had not only taken one parent from her, they'd taken two.
She missed T'el far more than she missed Xela. He was not T'el as a prisoner at war of Dalibor. She was angry at him, too, for staying there, and for not leaving the Continent and taking her with him for grand new adventures. She was his daughter-- and he'd deserted her! He joined the ranks of those that had broken up the renegades, killed! Xela had never heard the whole story about what had happened to T'el's father, but she had mostly filled in the holes for herself. Could T'el forget his father's memory that easily? Xela had never known her grandfather, and even she still bristled whenever she remembered how Weyrlife had ended for him. Or, at least, what she deducted had happened to him. But, it was not T'el's fault. When someone said 'join us or die,' it was not a difficult decision to make. So, the fault fell again to Dalibor.
She missed T'el far more than she missed Xela. He was not T'el as a prisoner at war of Dalibor. She was angry at him, too, for staying there, and for not leaving the Continent and taking her with him for grand new adventures. She was his daughter-- and he'd deserted her! He joined the ranks of those that had broken up the renegades, killed! Xela had never heard the whole story about what had happened to T'el's father, but she had mostly filled in the holes for herself. Could T'el forget his father's memory that easily? Xela had never known her grandfather, and even she still bristled whenever she remembered how Weyrlife had ended for him. Or, at least, what she deducted had happened to him. But, it was not T'el's fault. When someone said 'join us or die,' it was not a difficult decision to make. So, the fault fell again to Dalibor.
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
All those things he couldn't say
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Xela refused to remain here, a Hall that tithed to Dalibor. She knew that some of her better-made assignments went to the Weyr to clothe their drudges. She'd even helped weave some Candidate robes! She wanted nothing to do with the Weyr that had killed her mother and turned her father into a helpless prisoner! She'd eventually have her revenge on the Weyr that had essentially made her an orphan. Xela was a smart, cunning, independent girl, traits from both parents, but left without a guide in life and full of resentment, there was no telling where she was headed. Thirteen-Turn-olds weren't known for their brilliant decision-making.
A different line every night
Guaranteed to blow your mind
I see you out on the streets
Call me for a wild time
Finally, the last of the grooms left, extinguishing all but one torch. The one youngster left sat by the one torch, pulling out a piece of parchment and beginning to doodle a runner on it. She waited several candlemarks until the groom began to fall into a doze. Xela slipped silently out of the rafters and crept carefully towards the groom, taking the utmost caution not to make a sound. Suddenly, she darted forward, and her hands snaked towards the groom's neck. Her hands found a pressure point and she grasped down firmly on it. The groom flailed and turned. Xela ducked the fist he swung at her, counting carefully. After the predetermined number of seconds, she felt him stop trying to escape her clutches and slump in her hands. She let go immediately. She'd learned that little trick from T'el, where else? But, she only needed him unconscious, not dead.
So you sit home alone
'Cause there's nothing left that you can do
There's only pictures hung in the shadows
Left there to look at you
She didn't know the runners very well. She had only ridden once or twice. Dragons were much faster and she'd always had access to at least one, with two Dragonrider parents. Still, that was another one of her preparations-- learning about runners. There was enough literature in the Hall for her to get a grip on the basics, and volunteering for chores in the stable, heavy though they were, had given her enough training. She stepped over the unconscious groom into the tack room and grabbed the bridle and saddle for the runner she'd chosen. She tacked up slowly and clumsily. She didn't know what she was doing to begin with and it was even harder in the dark. Finally, both items were on her chosen runner well enough. The runner snorted and tossed his head. He was a young one, at only six Turns, and he'd only been in training for a year. But he was the only one that was both small enough for Xela to handle comfortably and fast, and his dark brown, almost black coloring with no white marks was the only one that would be invisible at night.
You know she likes the lights
At night on the neon Broadway signs
And she don't really mind
It's only love she hoped to find
The runner snorted nervously as she led him out of his stall and clambered onto his back. Xela stroked his neck soothingly-- if he started hollering, she was done for. She kicked him, and he broke into a reluctant trot, looking back towards the barn often. She pulled his head back in front of him and kicked him again. He began trotting a little bit faster. She bounced along awkwardly on his back, which caused him to pin his ears and hollow his back. Xela wasn't unobservant. As she didn't know how to post, she just grabbed a hunk of his mane and stood up in the stirrups rather than trying to sit in the saddle. The little runner bobbed his head, pricked his ears, and lengthened his stride, obviously more comfortable. Xela was glad-- they had a long way to go.
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
All those things he couldn't say
Ooh, she's a little runaway
A few candlemarks later, it was nearing dawn, and Xela was growing slightly tired, having stayed awake all night. She and the stolen runner were getting closer to the coast, though, where she knew she could get a cheap ship to the northern Continent. Unfortunately, the growing light meant that the runner's dark coat was no longer enough to hide them. Xela wasn't worried, though-- it would be a few more candlemarks yet before anyone was missing, and they were far enough away by now that the only way they'd be found was if the Hall sent dragons after her. As much trouble as she was, she doubted they'd bother. On the bright side, she'd finally figured out posting after getting bounced around and realizing that it was actually hard work to hold oneself out of the saddle for any length of time!
No one heard a single word you said
They should have seen it in your eyes
What was going around your head
A tiny little figure on the vast plain, Xela looked lost, but she felt the opposite. Finally, she was doing something. Yes, running away was hardly a blow against Dalibor, but one day... one day... This was merely the first step. The young runner was sweaty and blowing. He wasn't used to so much work. Xela reined him back to a walk. It would do no good for him to collapse from exhaustion or stumble and hurt himself. They had made plenty of progress during the night. The Hall wouldn't find her at this point and no Dalibor dragon flying overhead would recognize her-- on horseback, they'd just think she was a messenger. No one would stop them now!
Ooh, she's a little runaway
Daddy's girl learned fast
Now she wants a night away