22.Sep.18, 10:36 AM
T’bia’s own timid nature, coupled with what he found to be a hesitant smile from M’dox, completely crippled T’bia’s ability to throw himself at his friend like he so desperately wanted to. He just wanted to curl up with his friend somewhere warm and comfortable, and cuddle until all the horrors of the fire and everything that had followed were banished forever from his mind and his awful memories were replaced with the secure warmth of feeling loved and comforted by someone who wasn’t a dragon. Someone who liked him, for him, and wanted to be his friend. T’bia looked down, a flash of sadness, or hurt, flickering across his face when M’dox invited him in so politely and he shuffled through the door.
Looking up when he was well into the weyr, and hearing the door click closed quietly behind him, T’bia looked around curiously, half expecting the entire design of his friend’s weyr to have changed; the world felt so wildly out of whack under his feet, that he was shocked when he couldn’t really pick any differences. There were a few here and there, but T’bia wrote that more off as the weyr being lived in, and less as M’dox redesigning his life. Which to the self-conscious young bluerider, just made him feel the more miserable that M’dox didn’t seem particularly happy to see him. T’bia felt Jycenth stir on the edge of his consciousness, but the dragon didn’t intrude. Yet.
Turning slowly, gaze searching for M’dox, T’bia frowned worriedly at his friend, gnawing on his bottom lip again as his fingers twisted anxiously between themselves, putting his nervous energy into actions. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said softly, studying M’dox to make sure he wasn’t harbouring some burn that T’bia should easily see. He could still be injured in other ways, but T’bia hadn’t heard that the brownrider had been injured, and he’d certainly been keeping an ear on the grapevine of who was injured, and who had died. His face fell at the thought of Peorray and her sweet gold Wydrith, eyes dropping to his toes once more. Aveleth had liked her.
“I missed you,” he mumbled, feeling his insides seize up at revealing that information, knowing that it was the kind of thing that was easy to be used as a weapon by the other person. He’d certainly been subjected to that enough in the past. But he really liked M’dox, and he really wanted to let himself trust the brownrider, so even though saying such things made his insides wriggle and squirm in uncomfortable ways, T’bia was for the first time not ashamed of his foot-in-mouth tendency.
Looking up when he was well into the weyr, and hearing the door click closed quietly behind him, T’bia looked around curiously, half expecting the entire design of his friend’s weyr to have changed; the world felt so wildly out of whack under his feet, that he was shocked when he couldn’t really pick any differences. There were a few here and there, but T’bia wrote that more off as the weyr being lived in, and less as M’dox redesigning his life. Which to the self-conscious young bluerider, just made him feel the more miserable that M’dox didn’t seem particularly happy to see him. T’bia felt Jycenth stir on the edge of his consciousness, but the dragon didn’t intrude. Yet.
Turning slowly, gaze searching for M’dox, T’bia frowned worriedly at his friend, gnawing on his bottom lip again as his fingers twisted anxiously between themselves, putting his nervous energy into actions. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said softly, studying M’dox to make sure he wasn’t harbouring some burn that T’bia should easily see. He could still be injured in other ways, but T’bia hadn’t heard that the brownrider had been injured, and he’d certainly been keeping an ear on the grapevine of who was injured, and who had died. His face fell at the thought of Peorray and her sweet gold Wydrith, eyes dropping to his toes once more. Aveleth had liked her.
“I missed you,” he mumbled, feeling his insides seize up at revealing that information, knowing that it was the kind of thing that was easy to be used as a weapon by the other person. He’d certainly been subjected to that enough in the past. But he really liked M’dox, and he really wanted to let himself trust the brownrider, so even though saying such things made his insides wriggle and squirm in uncomfortable ways, T’bia was for the first time not ashamed of his foot-in-mouth tendency.