07.Apr.14, 09:14 PM
At one time, Peorray would have thought she'd be among the first ones rushing to return North at first opportunity. Not that she could even go yet- but unlike Jada, she found herself more content than she'd expected with where she was. Katila was where she'd birthed Soren, where she'd Impressed Wydrith, where she'd built a new life after losing her old one. What was left for her up North, really? Her husband's family would have moved on. Her own family would welcome a visit, sure -and a large part of Peorray couldn't wait to show off her big gold dragon to all the people she'd grown up with- but she'd grown up and moved away from them long ago. So there were no close ties there, either.
And in the wake of the main move North, Katila was unusually peaceful. Wydrith seemed more at ease these days without the press of the older dragons and Peorray appreciated anything that helped her dragon relax. There was always flying; since she'd first been allowed to take wing, Wydrith had seemed more comfortable in the sky than anywhere else. But sometimes, it suited their mood better to sit by the lake while Peorray took oil to the dragon's tense muscles, soothing the tenseness away.
Today was one such day. Peorray had more of her attention on the container of oil she carried and the dragon trailing behind her than any activity going on in the huts they passed to get to their destination, and paid for it by being blindsided by the male figure that hit her. If she'd been a slighter woman, she'd have gone tumbling too, but she was a sturdy enough girl to only get knocked a few stumbling steps before she found her feet again. The jar wasn't so lucky, falling from her grip to lie in the dirt.
She only had a moment to spare to check on it, however, before the boy in front of her was surging up with frantic apologies (she was guessing) while Wydrith hovered close. I'm fine. She assured the dragon. She eyed the boy critically and decided the same reassurance wouldn't hurt.
"I'm fine, if that's what you meant." Peorray like to be clear about communication. She and words had a complicated enough relationship without more misunderstandings. "Are you? Is something wrong? You looked like you were sure in a hurry."
And in the wake of the main move North, Katila was unusually peaceful. Wydrith seemed more at ease these days without the press of the older dragons and Peorray appreciated anything that helped her dragon relax. There was always flying; since she'd first been allowed to take wing, Wydrith had seemed more comfortable in the sky than anywhere else. But sometimes, it suited their mood better to sit by the lake while Peorray took oil to the dragon's tense muscles, soothing the tenseness away.
Today was one such day. Peorray had more of her attention on the container of oil she carried and the dragon trailing behind her than any activity going on in the huts they passed to get to their destination, and paid for it by being blindsided by the male figure that hit her. If she'd been a slighter woman, she'd have gone tumbling too, but she was a sturdy enough girl to only get knocked a few stumbling steps before she found her feet again. The jar wasn't so lucky, falling from her grip to lie in the dirt.
She only had a moment to spare to check on it, however, before the boy in front of her was surging up with frantic apologies (she was guessing) while Wydrith hovered close. I'm fine. She assured the dragon. She eyed the boy critically and decided the same reassurance wouldn't hurt.
"I'm fine, if that's what you meant." Peorray like to be clear about communication. She and words had a complicated enough relationship without more misunderstandings. "Are you? Is something wrong? You looked like you were sure in a hurry."