Falling for Redfruit [Open]

Aparicus wasn’t sure where her bronze flit had gotten off to.  One minute he had been helping her gather the redfruit from higher limbs and the next he’d darted off furiously after some child who’d been watching them.  Apari had a slight suspicion that the child had been about to do no good, which was the usual cause for Cinnamon to get so upset.  No good or about to upset Apari.  Cinnamon didn’t seem to like any of that one bit. 

On one hand that made Aparicus feel horribly guilty.  She should have better control over her bronze, but then looking around at some of the other firelizards, she soon learned that Cinnamon was actually well behaved and listened greatly compared to some others.  It was just those moments when Aparicus was in distress that he seemed to be at his worse.  The funny part is that he was always in some sort of defense of her, which accounted for why she could never stay angry with him.

Turning her attention back to her task, Apari looked for the next lowest set of redfruit upon the trees.  It seemed that over the past few seven-days she’d not been the only one sent by the kitchen staff to collect the fruit that had ripened.  The pies were a favorite of many members of the Weyr and as a result there were only a few that were still within reach for the short woman, but those few were not yet a rich red that told when the fruit tasted it’s best.

A little higher in one of the trees, however, she spotted a branch that had not yet been picked clean.  She chewed a thumbnail for a moment as she stared at the tree, then her basket and back at the tree once more.  If Cinnamon were here they would be easy enough to gather, the lizard would have knocked them down for Aparicus to catch.  But with him off and about she was on her own and she certainly wasn’t going to anger anyone by coming back with only half a basket! 

Moving to the tree, she hiked up her heavy skirts to put her foot into the crook made by a low branch coming out of the trunk.  Reaching up to higher branches, she stabilized herself before pulling herself up.  It wasn’t necessarily hard work, Aparicus had such a slight frame she was often mistaken for being sickly… though perhaps that wasn’t such a mistake to assume.  Even so, it meant that she didn’t need much as far as strength went to pull herself into the tree.  Seated upon one branch just a little ways up, she found the first of the clump within reach. 

“Well this is easy enough.”  She said to herself as she reached out to clasp the redfruit.  Dropping it into the basket, she reached out for another and had barely clasped her hand around it’s smooth, red surface before she felt herself lean out just a little too far…  In a flurry of skirts and brown hair she found herself falling off the limb she’d been seated upon.

Open to anyone, though I would prefer at least one guy jumping into the thread for theatrical sake.

The stroll through the Western Forest had been entirely M'din's idea, as Armath disliked any semi-enclosed area in which he couldn't twirl about like a madman. With a grumpy huff, the brown had flown from his perch in the trees for a more elevated position in the skies, lithe body twirling and veering above his ambling rider. M'din shuffled easily along, firmly clasping his book to his riding leathers.

He peered about, scratching his beard between glances, for a nice rock or tree to settle upon. The shady forest offered myriad reading opportunities and calm solitude for his ever-necessary naps, a peacefulness far more difficult to find at Katila proper. With a tilt of his head, he noticed a small basket beneath a tree in the distance. A redfruit tree, at that, he realized as he approached. Though he had just taken his lunch at the dining hall no more than thirty candlemarks ago, he enjoyed redfruit as much as the next man, and couldn't possibly ignore an abandoned basket full of such delicious morsels! M'din flopped down beside the basket, book now forgotten, deciding to wait a bit longer for the basket owner to return. Certainly, no one would forget their tasty prizes.

A noise overhead, an abrupt rustle of fabric on wood, gave M'din just enough time to throw his hands in the air before a body collided with his own. His skull cracked backwards into the trunk of the redfruit tree, knocked forcibly by an errant boot to the face, but the majority of the mysterious shape landed on his rotund stomach. A sharp sting and tingling fingertips told M'din that one, if not more, of the fingers of his right hand was broken.

Dazedly, he looked down at a lovely woman, fallen from topiary heaven. One ankle splayed on his left shoulder, neck held awkwardly in his right hand, the redfruit woman had dropped mostly sideways into his lap. If he'd been more aware of the situation, M'din would have found it funny that she now wore the abandoned basket on her head. 

"That was a doozie," he groaned. "Are you hurt?" 

I will definitely edit this if you don't want me to power-play Aparicus' landing! I wasn't sure how else to write it, lol. I'm also willing to bet that M'din is not the handsome hero Apari had in mind. :D

Aparicus found herself dizzy from the fall and highly confused.  Whatever she had landed upon had been more forgiving than the ground had any right to be.  Moreover, she couldn’t see a thing.  In the short time it took her to realize that the basket had somehow managed to land on her head a voice spoke up next to her making the ground move beneath her.

Wait…  She stiffened and tried to hold perfectly still as she lifted the edge of the basket just high enough to peer out before a squeak left her lips and her face drained quickly of color.  The next flurry of skirts was even more awkward than the first, if one considered that possible, as Apari did her best to move away from the man she’d landed upon without touching him further.  It proved completely impossible and by the time she found herself sitting a relatively safe distance away from him with the basket held between them like a shield she was shaking like a leaf.

“N-n-no S-sir.”  She stuttered so badly it was hard to tell if it was from nerves or how badly she was shaking.  How long had she managed to live in Katila in relative safety?  And now she’d fallen on a man!  Faranth have mercy, what if he took it as an attack?!!?!  Or worse, what if he was angry about it?!  Her gnarled fingers clung to the basket as if it could save her. 

She began to stutter and stammer an apology that was completely incomprehensible babble before she stopped and her jaw dropped open.  For exactly half a second the woman managed to freeze her shaking to stare at the man with large brown eyes in shock before it started all over again, stronger than before.

“Y-y-your B-bleeding…”  She barely managed as she lifted up a shaking hand and pointed with one of her few straight fingers to M’din’s head.

I should have mentioned that it would be perfectly okay.  BTW, your post was GREAT.  I haven't laughed so hard in a while.  <3

As the redfruit woman desperately scrambled away, a nagging voice drifted into M'din's throbbing head, I leave you alone for three candlemarks and you manage to concuss yourself. Superb. Armath sounded uncharacteristically pissy, poorly masking his concern with sarcasm. I'm going between. I'll be there soon.

Wait, buddy! I'm fine, really. There's someone else with me, the woman who fell out of the tree, and I think she's beyond terrified right now. You might scare her even more. M'din hazily watched as she stammered, entire body quivering like a spooked deer. He had no notion of what he'd done to make her this frightened. Was she guilty for hurting him? Broken fingers, bruised shoulder, and bleeding head notwithstanding, he was fine!

You mean to tell me a person fell out of a tree, further brain damaging you, and you're worried about her feelings? M'din sighed, wishing his fingers didn't ache quite so vividly, Yes, Armath. You can fly this way, but don't pop in until I ask, please. The brown begrudgingly acceded, mumbling snarky comments lowly in his mind. If M'din had been more seriously injured, he would not have waited for permission.   

The tiny woman pointed at him for a long moment before he understood what she said. The ringing in his ears made all noise sound stuffy and distant. His unbroken hand flew to the back of his head, returning drenched in bright crimson. "Oh, yeah," he muttered. "You're right. No big deal about the blood! I've had worse, and head injuries always look nastier than they are." He smiled briefly before snapping his mouth closed, instantly regretting his statement. She was shaking uncontrollably again.

He scooted closer to her, dragging his tubby frame like a fat, crippled snake in the grass. The swimming motion in his head made him want to vomit. "I'm glad you're not hurt, ma'am. My name's M'din," he said softly. He kept his voice gentle, hoping to offset the fact that he looked like a monstrous, bloody bear-man. "I would shake your hand, but we should probably save that for another time. Would it be all right if my dragon came to see me now? He's very worried." From his flattened position on the ground, M'din felt a surge of fatigue. It would be so pleasant to go to sleep under the trees.

He added with a sagging wave of his reddened hand, slurring, "He's a very nice dragon. He's brown, like klah... but tastier." Darkness enveloped M'din as his bearded face hit the grass. His final thought before surrendering to his concussion was, Dirt is hard to breathe.

Oh ho ho! This thread (and Apari!) is so much fun. I'm curious to see who flips M'din over: Aparicus or Armath? Poor guy smothered himself.

Aparicus stared at him with her mouth open in shock as he said that he was fine and that the blood wasn’t something to worry about.  Was he really being serious?  Did he really just smile after the statement?  As if the green rider A’lian hadn’t been confusing enough in his easy-going nature with her, this unknown rider had her completely baffled.  How was he not angry with her?  How was he not upset at the pain she’d caused him?

M’din.  She recognized the name and stuffed it away with his face in the back of her mind as she continued to watch him, trying to stutter out another sentence as he asked about his dragon.  She had been about to tell him that she had no right to approve or disapprove him or his dragon in any way when he fell face-down into the grass while muttering about his brown’s color.

She shook for a moment, working her mouth like a fish unable to breath before she found her voice again.  “M-M’din?”  she asked softly, staring.  “M-Mdin?”  The panic that was already in her voice was rising further as he didn’t answer back.  The third time she said his name it came out a shriek as she looked around in complete terror. 

“Somebody HELP!”  she screamed, but she knew nobody was going to be close – or at least the chances of that were very slim.  Dropping the basket, she crawled within arms reach and extended an arm, shaking so violently that she had to pull it back with a sob.  She tried to calm her breathing, but her panicked body and mind were having none of it.  Finally she reached out to poke at the man’s shoulder, her trembling actually turning what was supposed to be a light poke into a stronger jab as she couldn’t keep her hand steady.

It was the first time she’d actually reached out to touch someone in turns.  “Oh my god, his dragon’s going to eat me…”  she muttered, as she laid a shaking, gnarled hand on his shoulder and let her own trembling shake him as her voice still stuttered and cracked.  “Please don’t be d-dead.  Oh… W-w-wake up!  W-wake u-u-up!  P-please!”

Blinking back from the chill of between, Armath circled the forest once before the sound of a woman screaming drew his attention. Ah, yes. That was obviously M'din's location. He'd lost a sentient connection with his rider the moment he passed out, as often happened with the concussion-prone man, but wasn't overly concerned with the situation now that he understood what had transpired. A woman falling out of a tree was not worthy of the same blind fury as a woman attacking his bonded with a knife, for example, so Armath landed lazily beside M'din's body with a nonchalant, Hmf. He glanced at the shaking stranger hovering over her unintentional victim. Her overt concert for M'din's well-being was touching, but the brown could smell her fear from a mile away.

The crime scene was set: scattered redfruits, an open book, and empty bucket lay strewn beneath a broken branch, and, if the brown's nose didn't deceive him, one (or both) of the humans was bleeding. It was clear Armath would need to handle this situation on his own.

No more screaming, Redfruit Lady. We'll be all right. Sniffing at M'din's frazzled hair to locate the source of blood, Armath prodded the unconscious rider's stomach with his tail. Oops. He wasn't breathing with his face planted in the dirt like that. Armath gingerly rolled M'din on his back with a shove from his foreleg, and privately said, Wake up, buddy. You're freaking her out. M'din snorted and gasped before groggily opening his eyes, but he'd obviously need a moment to recover. 

Well, good; he's not dead. The brunette seemed exceptionally frightened by the day's turn of events and, if M'din's warning was to be believed, Armath's presence exacerbated her terror. Though he didn't condone falling out of trees on to unsuspecting travelers, Armath had no desire to deepen her obvious guilt. Thank you for trying to help him, but I'm afraid my rider is hopeless. Good to know he's squishy if I ever need to land on him though, the brown mused dryly. I'm Armath. This is M'din, in case he didn't tell you. What's your name, Redfruit Lady? 

As the dragon’s shadow washed over the area, Aparicus snatched her hand back with a yelp as if touching M’din had actually caused her pain.  At the dragon’s command for no more screaming, she snapped her mouth closed audibly before scooting back out of arms reach of the man.  She was still shaking, but for some reason having the dragon there actually helped her nerves a bit as he commented that the rider wasn’t dead and rolled him over.

Seeing the man snort and gasp with groggy eyes made her shudder before she turned to the dragon speaking to her.  That was one thing she never understood – why her phobia didn’t stretch past people to their dragons, but she argued that she had no past with the creatures and they’ve never been anything but kind to her so far.

“H-Hopeless?  I-I never meant to harm him!  He really w-won’t be okay?”  she asked with less of a stutter than she’d had with the man as she turned wide eyes to M’din and made a mistake of what the dragon had exactly meant by ‘hopeless’.  “Oh, Armath, I-I’m going to be in soo much t-trouble.”  She said, wrapping her arms tightly around her knees as she pulled them to her chest.

Aparicus herself was unhurt beyond a sore ankle, but she wasn’t even feeling that yet in her panic over M’din and all of the blood seeping from his head.  It took the woman a moment to realize that the brown had actually asked her a question in all of those words.  “Aparicus.  Sorry, My name is Aparicus.”

This woman was a high-strung bundle of nerves and, if there was one thing Armath would never understand, it was stressing out about little problems like concussions. He nudged M'din, who lay gurgling at his feet, with the back of his claw. Perhaps he's overestimated his ability to handle the situation alone. His rider would have to deal with the woman he'd caught- no, cushioned.

Up you go, pal. Eyes open, please. She is not calming down.

M'din blinked, completely befuddled, as his dilated pupils refocused on a brown blob blocking his view of the forest canopy overhead. "Amrmrath?" he moaned. He reached out to his bonded, who gently lowered his snout to his chest. "I feel a little better now," M'din swallowed. He could see the brunette woman a few feet away and his blurred eyes told him she was curled tightly into herself. In spite of his head injury, M'din felt a twang of sympathy as he recalled her crippling fear after her landing.

Just as he was about to speak to her, Armath interjected, Oh, no, not hopeless like dying. I just mean he's hopeless because he's constantly getting hurt. M'din could fall into a barrel of pillows and come out with a broken neck. You won't be in trouble or anything; it's just something that happens. The dragon stretched his neck past his rider, coming as close as he could to her arms without touching her, in the hopes of encouraging her bravery.

"Aparicush," M'din slurred. "You don't need to be scared. We're all right now." He debated verbalizing that he wasn't angry, but didn't want to plant that idea in her head. The brownrider had never seen someone so frightened by him, and wondered for a moment if he really was that scary looking. Clearing his throat and mind, M'din rolled to one elbow and asked, "How can I make you feel better?"