24.Feb.12, 12:27 PM
Valerian was not happy. In fact, he was decidedly annoyed and irritated. As he made his way from his room in the Candidates Barracks to the Healing Hall he thought of every single word to describe his foul mood, having them set to a simple tune before he was halfway there. Annoyed, irritated, aggravated, mad, angry, cranky, inconvenienced, put out… it went on and on though it didn’t improve his mood. When his thoughts switched to a specific green dragon and her chucklehead rider, the catalyst to his current state, he could almost crack a smile. He had more or less been kidnapped from the chore of picking numbweed with the rest of the poor souls stuck in the horrible task. At the time it seemed like a great way to get out of it and it ended up being an amazing experience that Valerian wouldn’t trade for anything. At least not until the following morning; today.
G’rem didn’t take too kindly to losing a pair of hands and instead of taking it out on B’jin, or maybe he did, Valerian hadn’t been told, the cranky old bluerider had decided the spoiled Harper could make up for the lost time and pick extra leaves for a longer period of time. He had mentally sworn up a storm, thoughts aimed at Larrikith to pass along to B’jin though he was certain the spunky green hadn’t caught a word of it. He had harvested the foul-smelling but useful plant all morning and into the afternoon, mood growing sourer from the heat that was still a tad on the uncomfortable side with the sun in its highest peak. When he was finally set free just as the dinner hour began, Valerian ate quickly and quietly before retiring to his room where thoughts of sleep were appealing but not long into lying down did his wrists begin to stiffen and throb.
So there he was, now alphabetizing his mood descriptors as he walked through the main door of the Healing Hall, ignoring an older Healer by giving a painful dismissing wave of his hand with a mumbled ‘Talian’ before heading for the room the woman pointed him to. At the threshold of the room, Valerian stopped and counted to ten. It wasn’t Talian’s fault he was in pain and since he was the quiet and sensitive friend, it wouldn’t serve either of them to snap without reason thus causing the Healer to shrink back into his shell despite their little bonding session a while ago that showed Valerian could be harmless. Instead he knocked on the door, wincing as even that caused his left wrist to scream at him and greeted the man in a fairly proper manner, “Hey, Talian.”
G’rem didn’t take too kindly to losing a pair of hands and instead of taking it out on B’jin, or maybe he did, Valerian hadn’t been told, the cranky old bluerider had decided the spoiled Harper could make up for the lost time and pick extra leaves for a longer period of time. He had mentally sworn up a storm, thoughts aimed at Larrikith to pass along to B’jin though he was certain the spunky green hadn’t caught a word of it. He had harvested the foul-smelling but useful plant all morning and into the afternoon, mood growing sourer from the heat that was still a tad on the uncomfortable side with the sun in its highest peak. When he was finally set free just as the dinner hour began, Valerian ate quickly and quietly before retiring to his room where thoughts of sleep were appealing but not long into lying down did his wrists begin to stiffen and throb.
So there he was, now alphabetizing his mood descriptors as he walked through the main door of the Healing Hall, ignoring an older Healer by giving a painful dismissing wave of his hand with a mumbled ‘Talian’ before heading for the room the woman pointed him to. At the threshold of the room, Valerian stopped and counted to ten. It wasn’t Talian’s fault he was in pain and since he was the quiet and sensitive friend, it wouldn’t serve either of them to snap without reason thus causing the Healer to shrink back into his shell despite their little bonding session a while ago that showed Valerian could be harmless. Instead he knocked on the door, wincing as even that caused his left wrist to scream at him and greeted the man in a fairly proper manner, “Hey, Talian.”