22.Oct.17, 12:10 AM
N’mor admitted to himself that he hadn’t really thought this through. He should have shuttled the bluerider off to the Headwoman and left it up to her to dry and dress the man before sending him home. Why had he decided the younger blue needed to be clothed in R’nd’s leftover clothing? It wasn’t like B’jin would never be back to lay claim to it. In fact, he’d probably be disappointed to find that N’mor no longer had it. Then again, it was a wonder either of that pair knew where any of their clothing was, they were so often tearing it off of each other. Amused, N’mor tugged the lacing at his neckline loose, so he could set about pulling his shirt off; it was going to be a struggle, he already knew that. He hated trying to one-arm wet clothing.
Despite the Turns that had gone by, N’mor had found some tasks simply didn’t get easier with time. To the contrary, the remembered ease with which he had done simple tasks was remembered and seemed to just make them all that much more difficult. He’d even had to have the ties on his pants adjusted so he could tie them with a quick tug and a loop around a button, instead of trying to tie a knot with one hand. Putting his towel between his knees, N’mor eased the remainder of his left arm out of the pinned sleeve, and then set about struggling out of the sticky wet fabric. He was rather impressed when he managed to get it off without getting stuck. Small victories!
N’mor tossed his shirt into the wash basket that was nearby, flipped the towel around his shoulders, and reached onto the highest shelf of a closet, dragging down a small pile of clothing; a shirt and a pair of pants, both of which would definitely be much too big for N’mor, but he was fairly certain would fit the bluerider. He was at least as tall as R’nd, or close to it; maybe taller? N’mor wasn’t sure, since he’d never really stood around and taken R’nd’s height and he wasn’t about to have Z’rin stand against the wall so he could record his height. The thought amused N’mor, and a small smile was on his lips as he turned around, eyes searching for the bluerider.
“Here…” He started, voice trailing off as he stared blankly at the half naked bluerider. Despite the fact that he’d taken his own shirt off, despite the fact that he’d brought Z’rin up to his weyr so the bluerider could dry off and get changed, despite the fact that he’d given him a towel to use for said drying off, and despite the fact that he had a change of clothing in hand for him, for some reason N’mor hadn’t expected to see Z’rin with half his clothing on the floor. So the young bronzerider stared, his usually intense eyes no less so as he unconsciously gave the bluerider a once over, a slow trail from neckline down to the ground, and slowly back up again. It wasn’t until N’mor lifted his gaze that little bit higher and caught Z’rin’s that he realised what he was doing.
N’mor’s jaw tightened and his eyebrows drew together disapprovingly, not at Z’rin but at himself, and he stepped forward stiffly to hand the bluerider the clothing he’d found. He didn’t apologise, instead opting to pretend he hadn’t been caught doing anything. Damn blueriders! Whose stupid idea was this, anyway? he demanded on Rhezalth, who just rumbled in amusement while N’mor stood there feeling like an idiot while he waited for Z’rin to take the damned clothing.Yours. Wonderfully and delightfully and completely yours! . The bronze was rumbling happily in the weyr, clearly laughing, as he turned his attention to Varralath for a moment, That sentiment could be returned, he laughed, having the time of his young life.
I hate you, you know that, right?
Despite the Turns that had gone by, N’mor had found some tasks simply didn’t get easier with time. To the contrary, the remembered ease with which he had done simple tasks was remembered and seemed to just make them all that much more difficult. He’d even had to have the ties on his pants adjusted so he could tie them with a quick tug and a loop around a button, instead of trying to tie a knot with one hand. Putting his towel between his knees, N’mor eased the remainder of his left arm out of the pinned sleeve, and then set about struggling out of the sticky wet fabric. He was rather impressed when he managed to get it off without getting stuck. Small victories!
N’mor tossed his shirt into the wash basket that was nearby, flipped the towel around his shoulders, and reached onto the highest shelf of a closet, dragging down a small pile of clothing; a shirt and a pair of pants, both of which would definitely be much too big for N’mor, but he was fairly certain would fit the bluerider. He was at least as tall as R’nd, or close to it; maybe taller? N’mor wasn’t sure, since he’d never really stood around and taken R’nd’s height and he wasn’t about to have Z’rin stand against the wall so he could record his height. The thought amused N’mor, and a small smile was on his lips as he turned around, eyes searching for the bluerider.
“Here…” He started, voice trailing off as he stared blankly at the half naked bluerider. Despite the fact that he’d taken his own shirt off, despite the fact that he’d brought Z’rin up to his weyr so the bluerider could dry off and get changed, despite the fact that he’d given him a towel to use for said drying off, and despite the fact that he had a change of clothing in hand for him, for some reason N’mor hadn’t expected to see Z’rin with half his clothing on the floor. So the young bronzerider stared, his usually intense eyes no less so as he unconsciously gave the bluerider a once over, a slow trail from neckline down to the ground, and slowly back up again. It wasn’t until N’mor lifted his gaze that little bit higher and caught Z’rin’s that he realised what he was doing.
N’mor’s jaw tightened and his eyebrows drew together disapprovingly, not at Z’rin but at himself, and he stepped forward stiffly to hand the bluerider the clothing he’d found. He didn’t apologise, instead opting to pretend he hadn’t been caught doing anything. Damn blueriders! Whose stupid idea was this, anyway? he demanded on Rhezalth, who just rumbled in amusement while N’mor stood there feeling like an idiot while he waited for Z’rin to take the damned clothing.
I hate you, you know that, right?