16.Nov.13, 08:51 AM
She had managed to wake quietly, the strangled scream breaking off into a broken mew before it fully left her lips, and somehow she had avoided kicking V’ler as she flailed into a sitting position, soaked in a cold sweat. Her hair was stuck to the side of her face, her shirt to her back, and Indivara trembled as the cold air bit her feverish body. On her pillow (or the pillow she had stolen, at any rate) Queenie crooned softly before she was scolded by Sucker. Indivara ignored them as she smoothed her breathing down. Either she had not woken the bluerider this time, or he was pretending to be asleep. Indivara was not in the mood to find out which.
Slipping carefully out of the bed, being somewhat careful not to poke, prod or jostle V’ler too much, Indivara set her feet on the cold floor, and shuddered. The heavy sound of the midnight rain should have been reassuring, soothing, but all it was doing was making the girl feel anxious and fidgety. It was not an unusual feeling, and Indivara knew enough to be aware that it was likely the fever, that she had gone and managed to get sick again, and why was her life so miserable? Her lip trembled as the scenes from her nightmare played before her wide open eyes, and Indivara’s hand clapped over her mouth even as she yelped into it, the sound muffled.
She had to get out.
Indivara’s concern was not for disturbing V’ler and his desire to get a proper sleep; she had woken him up enough times over the past few days – weeks? Months? Or had it been years? It felt like an eternity! – With little concern for his bad attitude, but Indivara was sick of the questions, and the looks. She was sick of accusations, of pity, and whatever else it was that people kept looking at her with! It made her angry, and anger was something Indivara could deal with. She knew how to channel anger; she knew how to express it without tears, and that made her feel stronger, and in control. Control was important, and Indivara added a spiteful jab to her desire for control as she tugged on one of V’ler’s fancy tops and slipped out the hut door. She did not so much as glance in Veeth’s direction, simply ducked her head and ran barefoot across the Weyr as fast as she could.
She knew where she was going, long before she got there, and her feet took her along the familiar path without hesitation. Despite that, she was lucky to make it to the bathing house without breaking her neck, and Indivara was aware of that as she pushed the door open, trekking mud inside without a thought for the poor bastard that would be required to clean it up. So long as it was not her, she did not care in the slightest. Water dripped from her long hair, a trail of lesser rain down the hall as Indivara angled for one of her favourite rooms, and pushed the door open without thought; who else would be up at such an hour on such a miserable night?
Apparently, weyrbrats were. Indivara’s expression scrunched up into a disgusted sneer as she watched Casa for a few moments, snorted, and proceeded to back out of the room without so much as a word.
Slipping carefully out of the bed, being somewhat careful not to poke, prod or jostle V’ler too much, Indivara set her feet on the cold floor, and shuddered. The heavy sound of the midnight rain should have been reassuring, soothing, but all it was doing was making the girl feel anxious and fidgety. It was not an unusual feeling, and Indivara knew enough to be aware that it was likely the fever, that she had gone and managed to get sick again, and why was her life so miserable? Her lip trembled as the scenes from her nightmare played before her wide open eyes, and Indivara’s hand clapped over her mouth even as she yelped into it, the sound muffled.
She had to get out.
Indivara’s concern was not for disturbing V’ler and his desire to get a proper sleep; she had woken him up enough times over the past few days – weeks? Months? Or had it been years? It felt like an eternity! – With little concern for his bad attitude, but Indivara was sick of the questions, and the looks. She was sick of accusations, of pity, and whatever else it was that people kept looking at her with! It made her angry, and anger was something Indivara could deal with. She knew how to channel anger; she knew how to express it without tears, and that made her feel stronger, and in control. Control was important, and Indivara added a spiteful jab to her desire for control as she tugged on one of V’ler’s fancy tops and slipped out the hut door. She did not so much as glance in Veeth’s direction, simply ducked her head and ran barefoot across the Weyr as fast as she could.
She knew where she was going, long before she got there, and her feet took her along the familiar path without hesitation. Despite that, she was lucky to make it to the bathing house without breaking her neck, and Indivara was aware of that as she pushed the door open, trekking mud inside without a thought for the poor bastard that would be required to clean it up. So long as it was not her, she did not care in the slightest. Water dripped from her long hair, a trail of lesser rain down the hall as Indivara angled for one of her favourite rooms, and pushed the door open without thought; who else would be up at such an hour on such a miserable night?
Apparently, weyrbrats were. Indivara’s expression scrunched up into a disgusted sneer as she watched Casa for a few moments, snorted, and proceeded to back out of the room without so much as a word.