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+---- Thread: [G] [C] 734.08.18 | Mourning Memories (/showthread.php?tid=2269)
734.08.18 | Mourning Memories - Casa - 09.Feb.14
Morning time came bright and early for most candidates, and Thallyath and Casa were no exception. The tiny dragonet often required attention beyond the feeding that was needed every morning; her tiny frame seemed to even now show signs of growing slowly and awkwardly, revealing patchy and itchy skin. Casa remembered the scars that B'jin had made a point of so specifically showing them both, and she couldn't imagine allowing the same thing to happen to Thallyath, or any dragon for that matter. She was insistent on making sure the dragonet got the care she needed from that first inspection on.
The problem with that however, was many fold and complicated. The most obvious reason was she could no longer do it herself. She had been all set, so bright and cheerful that first morning. But waking up the early hours of the next day, buried in mud and full of claw marks, that had...complicated things a great deal. Her collarbone and shoulder could not be moved under any circumstances, for fear the bone would not heal correctly and the wound would repoen. This left her very helpless when it came to doing anything for Thallyath. Luckily, there were many volunteers who stepped up and ensured that Thallyath was fed, bathed, and oiled to the best standards providable.
There was also her inability to do anything emotionally. Every night, she fell into a restless sleep filled with nightmares. Visions of dying dragons and riders filled her mind almost constantly, focusing mostly on the sight of Quenym and his dragon dying before her and her inability to do a thing. Rational thinking told her she couldn't have done anything, but the reason in her mind fled more often than not. Most of the time she sat in silence, replaying the moments in her head, rethinking the adventures, the promises made. She couldn't even comprehend it.
This morning, she dressed herself as best as she could, escorted Thallyath to the kitchens to be fed, and began to walk numbly to the hot springs for clean up. Thallyath remained in frosty silence and confusion, hurt by her rider's inability to function and try to work through it. As they found one of the smaller pools, she sat down on the edge, dropping down jarringly. Thallyath snorted gently, dipping herself into the pool and reveling in the warmth on her hide. They waited in silence for whoever would be helping them scrub down and oil the gold.
Re: Mourning Memories [Peorray] - Peorray - 09.Feb.14
Wydrith worried for her rider, even as she questioned if she should. She had, after all, chosen Peorray for her strength. That being the case, did she have the right to object when her rider was merely showing that strength? After her initial display of grief, Peorray had pulled herself together and seemed resolved to push such feelings to the side until they went away, like she thought she ought to. Goldriders are supposed to take care of their people, Wydrith. She’d insisted, And I’m hardly the only one who lost someone. That wouldn’t be so bad if it hadn’t involved distancing them from those who loved them.
The gold missed Armath and his rider, but every time they tried to approach, Peorray had either politely ducked them or radiated such guilt/anger that Wydrith herself had asked them to go away. She knew the woman had trouble sleeping, and helped with the bad dreams when she was allowed to. Her rider wasn’t eating like she should, either, but the gold hesitated to push too much. Peorray had never, never pushed Wydrith away- but what if she nagged enough to make her do so? So the dragon hovered anxiously in the background, waiting for any chance to be helpful without being too intrusive.
It had been Wydrith who’d called Peorray’s attention to young Casa’s problem. Once aware of the young woman’s difficulties, she’d offered to help out immediately. Even with a hatchling, and completely healthy, a young dragon could be difficult to care for. The thought provoked memories of her own complication – an active toddler trying to ‘help’- and she swallowed hard as she brushed a few tears away.
Everything reminded her of Soren, it seemed, from the river (and, Sweet Faranth, would she be glad when they could move North) to her Weyrmate. It didn’t help that M’din, the sweet man, was just as emotional over the loss as she. And she was having trouble enough coping with her own feelings without adding his into the bargain, especially with so little time to reconnect as a couple before this fresh complication- resulting in awkward meetings dotted with flares of frustrated temper.
Peorray knew the failings there were mostly hers, knew Wydrith, even though she’d made sure to never give the gold cause, feared being pushed away too. So she made it up to the gold where she could and hoped time would take care of the rest. The nearly-grown gold stuck close as they went to meet the weyrling pair, easing herself down to a tucked-in perch outside the pools and laying her head on her forelegs. Wydrith low croon of greeting underscored Peorray’s more forthright one.
“Morning, Casa.” It didn’t feel right to wish the girl a good morning, since it clearly wasn’t. “Thallyath.” Because the dragon deserved notice too. “I wasn’t sure if supplies would be an issue,” If Casa could carry them, rather “so I brought some of Wydrith’s. Are there any special trouble spots today?” Likely there would be, Peorray thought, as the ran an eye over the gawky young gold. That had been one blessing in her own weyrlinghood- for all Wydrith’s other issues, she had always grown gracefully.