30.Nov.13, 06:10 AM
There was an insistent noise filtering through S’cer’s dream; a low humming that certainly did not belong in the Telgarian grain fields. He dreamed very rarely, and it was even rarer to dream of home; he was only lucky that the majority of the time he could not remember his dreams when he work up, lest they make him more miserable.
S’cer…
Her presence brushed against his mind, fleeting and gentle at first, but then firmer when he didn’t wake. The green was unfailingly kind, but there was a Hatching going on and sometimes she needed to take a firmer stand. She repeated her bonded’s name more insistently, and was rewarded with a hand emerging from the bedcovers, then a shock of mussed brown hair as he shoved them back.
“Quelseth? Are you okay?” He spoke without realizing that he could simply think his query, work-roughened fingers combing his hair back out of his eyes. She had been battling a persistent cough for a few sevendays, and S’cer feared that it would worsen with the steady rain.
No… She was amused at the way that he bolted out of bed, tugging on trousers and a shirt off the floor in his haste to get outside, to her. His thoughts jumbled together, affection and fear mixing together as he panicked, always fearing that this sickness would be the one to ground her for good. Quelseth didn’t know if S’cer would ever realized that every sickness she had was overcome with time, but she enjoyed his doting.
“Sharding…” He had knocked his shin on a chest, and finally she had to take pity on him, her serious but ultimately loving rider.
The eggs are hatching, S’cer. We should go see them. She was practically wriggling with excitement, having never seen a Hatching but her own--the last Hatching she had been unwell and unable to attend. It was time to make up for that lost opportunity, because if baby firelizards were adorable, baby dragons were surely also as cute.
S’cer grumbled something to himself about persistent little greens, but he finished tugging on his boots anyway. Quelseth had known he would come around; he had promised to go to the next Hatching, and S’cer did not make promises he couldn’t keep.
I hope this is worth it, he thought grumpily as he swung up onto her back, but there was a level of affection there that most wouldn’t see. He loved her, and wanted to please her--even if it meant waking after only a few hours of sleep.
After finding a good vantage point, they waited--Quelseth with barely contained excitement, and S’cer with affectionate toleration--for the eggs to begin cracking. And when they did, Quelseth couldn’t contain herself, a sudden litany of mental commentary--most of the ‘how adorable’ variety--reverberating through their mind-link.
Do you think they’ll be okay, the little brown and the green? They hit pretty hard…
Little green dragons are hardy, tenacious things--wouldn’t you agree?
S’cer smiled, and it was entirely too fond for him--Quelseth deemed it her smile, because she had never seen him look at another person that way, and her cheery laughter reverberated throughout both their minds.
Her presence brushed against his mind, fleeting and gentle at first, but then firmer when he didn’t wake. The green was unfailingly kind, but there was a Hatching going on and sometimes she needed to take a firmer stand. She repeated her bonded’s name more insistently, and was rewarded with a hand emerging from the bedcovers, then a shock of mussed brown hair as he shoved them back.
“Quelseth? Are you okay?” He spoke without realizing that he could simply think his query, work-roughened fingers combing his hair back out of his eyes. She had been battling a persistent cough for a few sevendays, and S’cer feared that it would worsen with the steady rain.
“Sharding…” He had knocked his shin on a chest, and finally she had to take pity on him, her serious but ultimately loving rider.
S’cer grumbled something to himself about persistent little greens, but he finished tugging on his boots anyway. Quelseth had known he would come around; he had promised to go to the next Hatching, and S’cer did not make promises he couldn’t keep.
I hope this is worth it, he thought grumpily as he swung up onto her back, but there was a level of affection there that most wouldn’t see. He loved her, and wanted to please her--even if it meant waking after only a few hours of sleep.
After finding a good vantage point, they waited--Quelseth with barely contained excitement, and S’cer with affectionate toleration--for the eggs to begin cracking. And when they did, Quelseth couldn’t contain herself, a sudden litany of mental commentary--most of the ‘how adorable’ variety--reverberating through their mind-link.
Little green dragons are hardy, tenacious things--wouldn’t you agree?
S’cer smiled, and it was entirely too fond for him--Quelseth deemed it her smile, because she had never seen him look at another person that way, and her cheery laughter reverberated throughout both their minds.