29.May.22, 02:03 PM
The woman's friendliness was immediately disarming and Chir found himself returning her smile with a shy one of his own. When she started inundating him with questions, however, that smile slipped into an expression of discomfort. He lifted his left hand in an appeasing gesture, palm towards the floor with his fingers lightly spread. Chir raised and lowered the hand subtly in a request to slow down. That was too much at once, but he'd try to answer in order.
How long at the Weyr? He lowered his head to start ticking the days off with his fingers. Luckily, it didn't require the use of his injured arm. He held up his palm to face her this time, indicating five days.
The second question, at least, was simple to answer. He shook his head no apologetically before finally bringing his hand up to cover his mouth before pulling it away to let his lips slowly form the words: I can't speak.
Perhaps he should request Sironar make a sign for him. Or he could ask B'jin. He'd offered to teach him to read and write just as Siro had, and Chir worried he already needed enough from his roommate that it wouldn't hurt to stretch out the burden of his education around. Besides, he already found himself missing the mute man's company, though he suspected it had more to do with his lovely dragon than anything. Larrikith had a gift for making others feel welcome.
The freckled boy slipped down from the saddle he was perched on and stood uncertainly in case Mylorah needed anything else from him. He didn't know a lot about Weyr life, finding all of it a bit overwhelming still, but he wanted to help wherever he could.
As long as it didn't go against the healers' orders. He did not want another lecture on the irresponsibility of disobeying direct orders meant to keep him safe.
How long at the Weyr? He lowered his head to start ticking the days off with his fingers. Luckily, it didn't require the use of his injured arm. He held up his palm to face her this time, indicating five days.
The second question, at least, was simple to answer. He shook his head no apologetically before finally bringing his hand up to cover his mouth before pulling it away to let his lips slowly form the words: I can't speak.
Perhaps he should request Sironar make a sign for him. Or he could ask B'jin. He'd offered to teach him to read and write just as Siro had, and Chir worried he already needed enough from his roommate that it wouldn't hurt to stretch out the burden of his education around. Besides, he already found himself missing the mute man's company, though he suspected it had more to do with his lovely dragon than anything. Larrikith had a gift for making others feel welcome.
The freckled boy slipped down from the saddle he was perched on and stood uncertainly in case Mylorah needed anything else from him. He didn't know a lot about Weyr life, finding all of it a bit overwhelming still, but he wanted to help wherever he could.
As long as it didn't go against the healers' orders. He did not want another lecture on the irresponsibility of disobeying direct orders meant to keep him safe.