16.Apr.18, 06:43 AM
Indivara walked slowly up the halls of the Weyr, her arms wrapped around herself and her chin tucked to her chest. Her firelizards had been banished a couple of hours ago when she’d had her appointment with Quennell. Indivara had been ridiculously sick for the past several days, mostly puking her guts up and unable to keep down anything she ate. She hadn’t even had to fight with V’ler about going to see the healer; she’d gotten sick of being sick before he had found the words to bully her into it. Honestly, she hadn’t expected to find out anything interesting. Indivara was used to being sick, everything from the common cold through to ‘oh good Faranth I’m literally dying’ with fevers and other bodily goodies.
The visit had been quick, but Indivara had spent most of the past two hours wandering the halls, not ready to go back, not ready to face her own thoughts, let alone facing V’ler. She’d really fucked up; how could she have been so stupid? Sighing, Indivara dragged her feet as she turned and made her way through the halls towards home. How could she have forgotten something so obvious? It wasn’t like he’d thought of it, either, but Indivara knew most of the blame would lie with herself, though she probably wouldn’t admit that out loud any time soon – if ever.
Indivara paused outside and lifted her chin, taking a deep breath and trying to throw herself back into her usual stance and attitude. It didn’t work very well, her shoulders slumping after a half breath. She was still too much in shock to cry, but she supposed that was only a limited time away. Reaching out mentally, cautiously, she could still feel Venseth’s stubbornness, his absolute resolution that she wasn’t about to get out of this situation; they’d had a massive fight while she was still in Quennell’s office, the dragon refusing to see sense.
Indivara pushed the door open and walked inside, looking around for V’ler and spotting him in his usual spot. She hesitated for a few moments, before making her way over to him quietly. Pushing some of his stuff aside, she gave a little bounce and sat herself on the corner of his desk, picking up a quill and twirling it between fidgeting fingers. “Well,” she said, glancing sideways at V’ler with a subtle smirk. “It’s not contagious.” Which was both true, and a good thing, considering what a wimp V’ler could be when he got sick. Her expression fell then, and she sighed, shoulders slumping.
“Venseth won’t take me between,” she mumbled, staring down at the quill in her fingers, refusing to look up and risk catching V’ler’s gaze.
The visit had been quick, but Indivara had spent most of the past two hours wandering the halls, not ready to go back, not ready to face her own thoughts, let alone facing V’ler. She’d really fucked up; how could she have been so stupid? Sighing, Indivara dragged her feet as she turned and made her way through the halls towards home. How could she have forgotten something so obvious? It wasn’t like he’d thought of it, either, but Indivara knew most of the blame would lie with herself, though she probably wouldn’t admit that out loud any time soon – if ever.
Indivara paused outside and lifted her chin, taking a deep breath and trying to throw herself back into her usual stance and attitude. It didn’t work very well, her shoulders slumping after a half breath. She was still too much in shock to cry, but she supposed that was only a limited time away. Reaching out mentally, cautiously, she could still feel Venseth’s stubbornness, his absolute resolution that she wasn’t about to get out of this situation; they’d had a massive fight while she was still in Quennell’s office, the dragon refusing to see sense.
Indivara pushed the door open and walked inside, looking around for V’ler and spotting him in his usual spot. She hesitated for a few moments, before making her way over to him quietly. Pushing some of his stuff aside, she gave a little bounce and sat herself on the corner of his desk, picking up a quill and twirling it between fidgeting fingers. “Well,” she said, glancing sideways at V’ler with a subtle smirk. “It’s not contagious.” Which was both true, and a good thing, considering what a wimp V’ler could be when he got sick. Her expression fell then, and she sighed, shoulders slumping.
“Venseth won’t take me between,” she mumbled, staring down at the quill in her fingers, refusing to look up and risk catching V’ler’s gaze.