31.Dec.13, 10:33 PM
When C’dre had woken up at the beginning of the week, it had been raining.
When he’d taken Hamith hunting, it had been raining. When he’d joined a foraging party, it had been raining. When he dragged himself reluctantly out of bed early in the morning, it was raining, and when he’d settled into his humidity-dampened furs at night, he was lulled to sleep by the sound of, you guessed it, rain.
So he knew, of course, that at the end of the week, when he could no longer put off bathing and oiling his increasingly irritable dragon, that Pern itself was going to do him a huge favor and reward his optimism with a gorgeous, warm, sunshiny day.
Ha ha. No.
… though, C’dre was forced to admit to himself as he mentally prodded Hamith awake, they were halfway there. It wasn’t actively raining this morning. The sky was a sullen, leaden grey, the clouds roiling and pregnant with moisture, but for the immediate moment it seemed to be staying above them. They weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the temporary relief, either- all around them, C’dre could see other riders loading their dragons up with sweetsand and skins of oil. Hell, from where he was standing, it almost looked like half the Weyr was on their way to the lake shore.
It’s cold and it’s wet, Hamith snapped, curling tighter under her own wings.
“It’s beautiful,” C’dre corrected cheerfully. “Nicest day this week.”
It’s warmer between.
“Stop being such a baby. It’s a lovely day for a bath.”
Hamith snorted in blatant contempt of that suggestion. It’s been raining all week. I don’t need a bath.
“You’re getting one, anyway,” C’dre chuckled. “Come one now. There’s an oiling in it for you when we’re done.”
It took more than an hour of prodding, cajoling, and outright pleading, but C’dre eventually got the reluctant green down to the lakeshore.
Getting her into the water, on the other hand, was going to be more than a little bit of a challenge.
When he’d taken Hamith hunting, it had been raining. When he’d joined a foraging party, it had been raining. When he dragged himself reluctantly out of bed early in the morning, it was raining, and when he’d settled into his humidity-dampened furs at night, he was lulled to sleep by the sound of, you guessed it, rain.
So he knew, of course, that at the end of the week, when he could no longer put off bathing and oiling his increasingly irritable dragon, that Pern itself was going to do him a huge favor and reward his optimism with a gorgeous, warm, sunshiny day.
Ha ha. No.
… though, C’dre was forced to admit to himself as he mentally prodded Hamith awake, they were halfway there. It wasn’t actively raining this morning. The sky was a sullen, leaden grey, the clouds roiling and pregnant with moisture, but for the immediate moment it seemed to be staying above them. They weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the temporary relief, either- all around them, C’dre could see other riders loading their dragons up with sweetsand and skins of oil. Hell, from where he was standing, it almost looked like half the Weyr was on their way to the lake shore.
It’s cold and it’s wet, Hamith snapped, curling tighter under her own wings.
“It’s beautiful,” C’dre corrected cheerfully. “Nicest day this week.”
It’s warmer between.
“Stop being such a baby. It’s a lovely day for a bath.”
Hamith snorted in blatant contempt of that suggestion. It’s been raining all week. I don’t need a bath.
“You’re getting one, anyway,” C’dre chuckled. “Come one now. There’s an oiling in it for you when we’re done.”
It took more than an hour of prodding, cajoling, and outright pleading, but C’dre eventually got the reluctant green down to the lakeshore.
Getting her into the water, on the other hand, was going to be more than a little bit of a challenge.