26.Jan.12, 10:22 PM
"Yes..." B'jin said slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure what Talian expected him to reply with. Was it so strange, that B'jin wanted to know him? When the young healer furthered his question, B'jin blinked. His mouth opened slightly, and he tilted his head, puzzled. "I could," he said softly, blinking in a manner that betrayed his confusion at the odd question. How to explain why he wouldn't - couldn't - do that to the young man. "I've never been a fan of second hand knowledge," he said softly, honestly, and that is exactly what he would be getting should Larrikith poke around in Talian's mind.
B'jin lifted the mug to his lips once more, the steam reassuring as it caressed his face. "Arrogant?" He asked, mystified. B'jin had been accused of many things, and Larrikith tended to add to that list with a joy that should have worried the greenrider, but arrogant? Oh, no, he'd never been called that before! Wide brown eyes stared up at Talian over the rim of his mug, and he slowly lowered it in a dream like state. He had no idea how to answer that particular accusation.
Talian's frown was becoming a common appearance, and B'jin didn't really approve of the expression. He didn't say anything on it, or even pull attention to the expression. But, he would - slowly! - attempt to bring Talian around. He'd like to see the boy smile. The markers on his face indicated that he smiled very rarely, and that just wouldn't do! B'jin didn't know how to answer the young man's questions at that point, at any rate, so he quietly let that portion flow away. He didn't understand the expectations imposed upon them any better than Talian did.
"Seven." B'jin answered softly, though the word was blunt and held a ring of sadness. B'jin was a good search rider, and before the Plague, his green Larrikith could pick out a great candidate from a field of good. The greenrider had declined from Searching for the Renewed Hope clutch, and had taken until 229 AL before he tried out his hand at the bizarre method Katila would some day be known for. Seven, in just over two Turns. One every couple of months. A couple of them had even come in happily, to various degrees. Most of them were not nearly so positive, and B'jin was saddened to know it was 'the norm'.
"I did too!" B'jin's sudden reply was indignant and childish, his eyes wide as he sat forward suddenly, lowering his mug of Klah as he did so, and managed somehow to not spill it upon himself. "My name is B'jin! My dragon is Larrikith! I know I told you that much!" While his voice was pitched low enough to only really be heard by Talian and himself, B'jin's expression was a little wild as he racked through his brain, sure as his Craft that he'd told the young man of his name, and that of his dragon.
You did, Larrikith said firmly, and that was enough for B'jin.
"I am a Searchrider, a green rider, a plague survivor, an orphan, a father, a senior musician." B'jin replied, though whether he was adding it in as a list of ranks after his name and that of his dragon, or an introduction to who he was, was fuzzy.
B'jin lifted the mug to his lips once more, the steam reassuring as it caressed his face. "Arrogant?" He asked, mystified. B'jin had been accused of many things, and Larrikith tended to add to that list with a joy that should have worried the greenrider, but arrogant? Oh, no, he'd never been called that before! Wide brown eyes stared up at Talian over the rim of his mug, and he slowly lowered it in a dream like state. He had no idea how to answer that particular accusation.
Talian's frown was becoming a common appearance, and B'jin didn't really approve of the expression. He didn't say anything on it, or even pull attention to the expression. But, he would - slowly! - attempt to bring Talian around. He'd like to see the boy smile. The markers on his face indicated that he smiled very rarely, and that just wouldn't do! B'jin didn't know how to answer the young man's questions at that point, at any rate, so he quietly let that portion flow away. He didn't understand the expectations imposed upon them any better than Talian did.
"Seven." B'jin answered softly, though the word was blunt and held a ring of sadness. B'jin was a good search rider, and before the Plague, his green Larrikith could pick out a great candidate from a field of good. The greenrider had declined from Searching for the Renewed Hope clutch, and had taken until 229 AL before he tried out his hand at the bizarre method Katila would some day be known for. Seven, in just over two Turns. One every couple of months. A couple of them had even come in happily, to various degrees. Most of them were not nearly so positive, and B'jin was saddened to know it was 'the norm'.
"I did too!" B'jin's sudden reply was indignant and childish, his eyes wide as he sat forward suddenly, lowering his mug of Klah as he did so, and managed somehow to not spill it upon himself. "My name is B'jin! My dragon is Larrikith! I know I told you that much!" While his voice was pitched low enough to only really be heard by Talian and himself, B'jin's expression was a little wild as he racked through his brain, sure as his Craft that he'd told the young man of his name, and that of his dragon.
You did, Larrikith said firmly, and that was enough for B'jin.
"I am a Searchrider, a green rider, a plague survivor, an orphan, a father, a senior musician." B'jin replied, though whether he was adding it in as a list of ranks after his name and that of his dragon, or an introduction to who he was, was fuzzy.