09.Apr.14, 03:05 PM
S'cer could only scowl at the bluerider ensconced in his bed, face flushed as he pointed out, "This doesn't mean anything to me, so I can be as cold or callous as I choose. I can promise you that you would be the last person I would ever choose as a weyrmate." No, S'bel was too antagonistic and vaguely manipulative for S'cer's tastes; his blood was up due to anger, not because of any sincere shyness or love-struck affection.
S'cer did not mind being dull--if he was dull, he was kept well out of the thoughts of others, especially those of a higher rank. He didn't wish to become some bluerider's playtoy, or someone's minion, both out of self-respect and respect for Quelseth. They could survive with one another, and to S'cer that was the only relationship he was looking for. Friendships were one thing, but romantic relationships were quite another--his relationship to Quelseth was far deeper than either, a half of himself, and it was all he could ever want.
Perhaps you are right, Ipsyth. She curled in closer to the blue's side, taking comfort in the friendly warmth, and commented to both Ipsyth and her rider, S'bel is a very good at arguing, he is not?
S'cer knew when he was being mothered in a round-about manner, and he heaved a sigh that could have matched S'bel's own. Begrudgingly he setting himself on the battered trunk that sat at the end of his cot, eyes flicking to his lost boot with a forlorn expression. It was still too close to S'bel for his comfort, and S'cer realized that there was no way out of this--it was time to capitulate. "What do you want me to say, hm? I'm not good company in the slightest, as I'm sure you've gathered."
S'cer did not mind being dull--if he was dull, he was kept well out of the thoughts of others, especially those of a higher rank. He didn't wish to become some bluerider's playtoy, or someone's minion, both out of self-respect and respect for Quelseth. They could survive with one another, and to S'cer that was the only relationship he was looking for. Friendships were one thing, but romantic relationships were quite another--his relationship to Quelseth was far deeper than either, a half of himself, and it was all he could ever want.
S'cer knew when he was being mothered in a round-about manner, and he heaved a sigh that could have matched S'bel's own. Begrudgingly he setting himself on the battered trunk that sat at the end of his cot, eyes flicking to his lost boot with a forlorn expression. It was still too close to S'bel for his comfort, and S'cer realized that there was no way out of this--it was time to capitulate. "What do you want me to say, hm? I'm not good company in the slightest, as I'm sure you've gathered."