05.Sep.19, 08:06 PM
She winked at him, her laughter soft as he calculated out to the Gather and kissed her fingertips. She did love Semath dearly, how could she not? Love the rider, love the dragon, etc., etc., etc. Honestly, his offer to take her to Fort for the evening was a lovely idea. Sariel tucked herself against him a little more, a few tendrils of hair escaping as she moved.
"I'd be pleased to get a night away. I'm still suffering from the post-Hatching sours since the Hatching at Ista and it's been difficult to get out of the negative cloud. At least I have Healing, mm?" she murmured, leaning into him. Her fingers idly brushed his hair as she let out a slight huff. "Would that I could leave every evening. I do have all of my things ready in case I have to leave for another Weyr. It's easier to be ready than not. I've a bag and a kit."
Ista had set her on edge from the start and she still felt its tendrils.
Sariel was sure that much of her outburst was misconstrued and actions of others were attributed to her when all she did was speak. Perhaps some could read her emotions? Appealing to the gold had come to nothing - at least she'd asked - nor had she made a move toward the rest of the eggs. The only thing she'd really done was to check the deceased dragonet to make sure she was, in fact, dead. She felt, herself, that the bodies of the dead dragonets would be of great use to the healers and really wished she could be a part of that team. The how and why of their failure to mature was as bad as the Impressed ones. They'd be alright, she hoped. It still hung on her, the weight and the exhaustion even this long past the Touching and Hatching. She was, in a word, reeling.
Sariel had never had such a traumatic few months - not like this, at least. This was a different kind of trauma, the kind that resonated all the more because it had involved her. That sounded a mite bit selfish and she'd feel horrible regardless considering the deaths and the existential dread of both events, interconnected as they were. It was enough to last a lifetime of Hatchings and Touchings but she knew she would always return to the Sands (any Sands) as long as they'd take her. Maybe she should only Stand for clutches that had a golden egg among their number.
...but what if-- Arragh! Too much was on her mind.
She took a slow breath in and refocused herself. There was time for speculation later. Her fingers traced the band L'gan had given her and she couldn't not smile. Fort would be a quiet respite compared to the turmoil of Ista where she had felt pummeled from every which direction, at least in an emotional sort of way. That feeling had persisted like a nightmare you couldn't shake and followed.
"Mmn," she said a moment or two later, "Sorry. I guess I definitely need a night away."
"I'd be pleased to get a night away. I'm still suffering from the post-Hatching sours since the Hatching at Ista and it's been difficult to get out of the negative cloud. At least I have Healing, mm?" she murmured, leaning into him. Her fingers idly brushed his hair as she let out a slight huff. "Would that I could leave every evening. I do have all of my things ready in case I have to leave for another Weyr. It's easier to be ready than not. I've a bag and a kit."
Ista had set her on edge from the start and she still felt its tendrils.
Sariel was sure that much of her outburst was misconstrued and actions of others were attributed to her when all she did was speak. Perhaps some could read her emotions? Appealing to the gold had come to nothing - at least she'd asked - nor had she made a move toward the rest of the eggs. The only thing she'd really done was to check the deceased dragonet to make sure she was, in fact, dead. She felt, herself, that the bodies of the dead dragonets would be of great use to the healers and really wished she could be a part of that team. The how and why of their failure to mature was as bad as the Impressed ones. They'd be alright, she hoped. It still hung on her, the weight and the exhaustion even this long past the Touching and Hatching. She was, in a word, reeling.
Sariel had never had such a traumatic few months - not like this, at least. This was a different kind of trauma, the kind that resonated all the more because it had involved her. That sounded a mite bit selfish and she'd feel horrible regardless considering the deaths and the existential dread of both events, interconnected as they were. It was enough to last a lifetime of Hatchings and Touchings but she knew she would always return to the Sands (any Sands) as long as they'd take her. Maybe she should only Stand for clutches that had a golden egg among their number.
...but what if-- Arragh! Too much was on her mind.
She took a slow breath in and refocused herself. There was time for speculation later. Her fingers traced the band L'gan had given her and she couldn't not smile. Fort would be a quiet respite compared to the turmoil of Ista where she had felt pummeled from every which direction, at least in an emotional sort of way. That feeling had persisted like a nightmare you couldn't shake and followed.
"Mmn," she said a moment or two later, "Sorry. I guess I definitely need a night away."