17.Aug.19, 10:23 AM
Madiquel smiled gratefully at Eb’zer as he handed her a mug of warm herbal tea sweetened with honey, before watching the healer take a last glance around and excuse himself. She, and her fellow classmates, were set up in one of the old goldrider weyrs; it was a huge family one, with four bedrooms and a private bathing room. Perfect for keeping herself, Beckitt and Misharan under constant supervision, with plenty of room for adult dragons to let their riders in, both announced and unexpectedly. Taking a sip of her tea, Madiquel watched Zezeth sleeping quietly beside her, the little green’s head resting on her lap.
With her head in the clouds, eyes glazed and sipping from her drink abensetly as she watched her dragonet breathe in and out, Madiquel was quietly startled when she heard the shuffle of feet at her doorway. Blinking, she looked up, expecting to see one of the boys, or maybe one of the many adults that popped in irregularly. Instead, she blinked again and forced her gaze to focus on A’tay. Madiquel’s face bloomed into a smile, and she shifted slightly as if she was going to stand, before sagging and waving A’tay to come to her, smiling with bone deep exhaustion.
“Hey,” she said quietly, leaning into her best friend when he sat beside her, almost sagging. She felt a million turns old, and was sure she looked awful; Madiquel had barely slept at all between Impressing and the current moment. So much time was spent making sure Zezeth was still alive, only sleeping – or feeding her, or cleaning up after her when she went to the toilet. There was a bucket of water and a bucket of meaty soup on one side of her doorway, while the far side of her room had what looked like a small sandpit for Zezeth to go to the toilet in; the tiny dragon showing the most amount of dignity when she eyeballed it the first time, disgusted.
“Oh Tay,” Madiquel sighed, suddenly on the verge of breaking, “what have I done?” She lifted her gaze, peering up at A’tay through a wave of unshed tears, biting her bottom lip as she sniffled. She hadn’t heard from her Papa yet, and wasn’t sure how to take that except in the most negative way imaginable, completely convinced he hated her for her betrayal. She was so terrified that Zezeth would die, and she’d lose her little green baby and join her father in that strange, mad void he had been living in since the landslide. “What if she dies?” Madiquel asked brokenly, bursting into tears as she whispered the fear everyone had about the three hatchlings, but that she hadn’t yet voiced about her dragon. Zezeth was in a deep slumber, breathing deeply and almost snoring softly with each breath. She didn’t so much as twitch when Madiquel twisted to wrap her arms around A’tay and press her face to his chest, crying brokenly.
With her head in the clouds, eyes glazed and sipping from her drink abensetly as she watched her dragonet breathe in and out, Madiquel was quietly startled when she heard the shuffle of feet at her doorway. Blinking, she looked up, expecting to see one of the boys, or maybe one of the many adults that popped in irregularly. Instead, she blinked again and forced her gaze to focus on A’tay. Madiquel’s face bloomed into a smile, and she shifted slightly as if she was going to stand, before sagging and waving A’tay to come to her, smiling with bone deep exhaustion.
“Hey,” she said quietly, leaning into her best friend when he sat beside her, almost sagging. She felt a million turns old, and was sure she looked awful; Madiquel had barely slept at all between Impressing and the current moment. So much time was spent making sure Zezeth was still alive, only sleeping – or feeding her, or cleaning up after her when she went to the toilet. There was a bucket of water and a bucket of meaty soup on one side of her doorway, while the far side of her room had what looked like a small sandpit for Zezeth to go to the toilet in; the tiny dragon showing the most amount of dignity when she eyeballed it the first time, disgusted.
“Oh Tay,” Madiquel sighed, suddenly on the verge of breaking, “what have I done?” She lifted her gaze, peering up at A’tay through a wave of unshed tears, biting her bottom lip as she sniffled. She hadn’t heard from her Papa yet, and wasn’t sure how to take that except in the most negative way imaginable, completely convinced he hated her for her betrayal. She was so terrified that Zezeth would die, and she’d lose her little green baby and join her father in that strange, mad void he had been living in since the landslide. “What if she dies?” Madiquel asked brokenly, bursting into tears as she whispered the fear everyone had about the three hatchlings, but that she hadn’t yet voiced about her dragon. Zezeth was in a deep slumber, breathing deeply and almost snoring softly with each breath. She didn’t so much as twitch when Madiquel twisted to wrap her arms around A’tay and press her face to his chest, crying brokenly.