23.Dec.13, 12:33 PM
It was a grim day, and A'liran was in a grim mood. He never thought he'd live to see a time where talk of going home excited him so little, or when he wasn't even sure if he wanted to anymore. Surrounded by death and destruction as they all were, the battered greenrider found himself wondering if it was worth it to even try. Pern herself had it out for them, and at this rate, he wasn't sure how many of them would manage to crawl out of the wreckage and actually spread their wings and fly.
Astoreth hated seeing him so dour. She was silently reassuring, but in the back of her mind, she festered with resentment. Like T'ken, she was filled with accusation. She blamed the leaders, she blamed the Weyr, she blamed Pern...she even blamed A'liran. She wanted to see him happy again, to know that she hadn't pulled him from the landslide only to see him waste away. He was a fighter, just like her. Why, then, did he not bounce back like he always did? What was different this time?
Distantly aware of her concerns, the greenrider's angry internal musings gave her a half answer. Against a moral enemy, Ali could strike back. But against the earth itself? He was truly helpless.
Ali was luckier than some, though. He took little comfort in it, but least his cracked ribs allowed him to hobble about on crutches. He probably shouldn't have been, especially since the makeshift crutches were hastily made and generally unstable, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. The longer he languished, the more it would eat at him.
He was so focused on being grumpy that he didn't notice T'ken right away. Ali didn't have a location or a goal in mind, he just had to be out. The young brownrider gave him a good excuse, though. The greenrider's head shot towards T'ken and he gave a promp, curt nod. "What's up, kid?" he asked, trying his best not to sound impatient or, more accurately, in pain. Time for some more numbweed. "You holding up...?"
He'd completely ignored T'ken's generic offer of help. He wasn't really sure what to say. Sure! Help me stand up so I don't bust my stupid ass, which should be in bed, but isn't because I'm a stubborn asshole didn't sound very constructive.
Astoreth hated seeing him so dour. She was silently reassuring, but in the back of her mind, she festered with resentment. Like T'ken, she was filled with accusation. She blamed the leaders, she blamed the Weyr, she blamed Pern...she even blamed A'liran. She wanted to see him happy again, to know that she hadn't pulled him from the landslide only to see him waste away. He was a fighter, just like her. Why, then, did he not bounce back like he always did? What was different this time?
Distantly aware of her concerns, the greenrider's angry internal musings gave her a half answer. Against a moral enemy, Ali could strike back. But against the earth itself? He was truly helpless.
Ali was luckier than some, though. He took little comfort in it, but least his cracked ribs allowed him to hobble about on crutches. He probably shouldn't have been, especially since the makeshift crutches were hastily made and generally unstable, but he wasn't taking no for an answer. The longer he languished, the more it would eat at him.
He was so focused on being grumpy that he didn't notice T'ken right away. Ali didn't have a location or a goal in mind, he just had to be out. The young brownrider gave him a good excuse, though. The greenrider's head shot towards T'ken and he gave a promp, curt nod. "What's up, kid?" he asked, trying his best not to sound impatient or, more accurately, in pain. Time for some more numbweed. "You holding up...?"
He'd completely ignored T'ken's generic offer of help. He wasn't really sure what to say. Sure! Help me stand up so I don't bust my stupid ass, which should be in bed, but isn't because I'm a stubborn asshole didn't sound very constructive.