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 Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 7:45 pm
A sevenday after his incident, no one had seen much of Xanthoth. Speculators began to foster a rumor the conceited bronze had gone off to practice in hopes of impressing Gold Reneneth. A backbreaking straw during a very bad time for B'lin was that the number of these people not only thrived, but grew. Every day a new face was telling him what he should or shouldn't have done; making commentary or taunting him. Not to his face. Only when his back was turned did they dare prattle on with their belittlement. Gentle or not, B'lin was still a musclebound man and committed to growing more for another turn or so. He too had been missing in action as of late. In a Weyr like Ista, though people often forgot it, there were no real secrets.
B'lin did not like being left in the dark. Shadows were no place for him, and he was quickly learning fog wasn't either. His mind had not been clear for a while, but it was different than the usual traffic. It wasn't that he was thinking to much, it was that he couldn't think. The fever he could ignore. The aching? An easy woe to surmount. But the headaches... The sharding headaches are what got him. After he'd lost the death grip on his own mind, everything had collapsed. Including him. Literally.
Naive was a good word to describe Xanthoth when it came to a human's health, but he knew this was cause for concern. He urged his rider to seek out more appropriate help to no avail. B'lin had gotten fed up and bitterly told him they could both go to healers if he was so fixated on the idea. He predicted his dragon wouldn't want anywhere near such a scenario. Right again. A medic would only damage Xanthoth's pride, and that needed repairs more than his wing.
So there they were, rider and dragon, sitting on the very edge of the beach sands. Far, far away from everyone. As far as they could get without risking being devoured by felines, matter of fact. There had been a few sightings of B'lin in the kitchen gathering food, but all were brief. He spent most of his time sleeping at his bronze's side. Xanthoth was torn between the anxiousness to improve his flight as soon as possible and his festering distress for His. Sleeping again, he grimly acknowledged from the sea.
Sometimes, when he couldn't stand just laying there any longer and B'lin was too asleep to take note of his absence, Xanthoth would venture out into the waters he spent hour upon hour staring at. The damaged wing was still bent a tad out of place and the bruises still in phase one of healing. He'd be doing no flying anytime soon no matter what B'lin's condition.
B'linmine, Xanthoth summoned quietly. Someone is coming. You should wake up.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 8:12 pm
It was rare that Wyona took any rumors to heart. The voices among the older riders were perhaps a bit different than those between the younger, but in essence, they remained very much the same. The reasons for a bronze and his rider to vanish from the face of the earth were hardly her concern. The fact remained that all sources led to the same point: He was not around and this was relatively new behavior.
The voice was full of pester, but the dragons eyes were whirling with the threat of yellow. Wyona had been quiet and had been speaking mostly through their minds rather than addressing her green vocally as she'd come to the practice of doing.
The contact was ignored verbally, though there was a silent push of 'No' along the connection.
With each step, Wyona was wandering her eyes out along the shoreline for any signs of life. There was a bronze with one wing slightly cocked off kilter. While Wyona was first to spot this, Isoldeth was busy murmuring over bad places to sleep.
Taking in a deep breath, Wyona picked up the pace. It was a long way out from 'civilaztion' for any person to be, let alone a Weyrling.
"B'lin?" she called when she was close enough that her voice would carry. Rumours were good for something. It was rare that names were inaccurate, and Wyona couldn't think it would be anyone else sleeping in a potentially dangerous location, no less. "Would you like me to bring you out some furs?" The youth may have had strong backs and tough hides, but the ground could not have served a comfortable location.
How long had he been out there?
For once, Isoldeth was silent, though the green had ventured her focus onto the bronze in question. She tried not to let the confusion show in her eyes, but control of emotion was never her strong point.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 8:33 pm
At one point in his feverish haze, B'lin had vague recollection of something he was supposed to be doing. One could only hope (and hope dearly) that 'something' was not something important. The last thing he needed was F'sey out in his new found place of quiet (peace would be stretching it) wailing at him about missing a lesson. The mental nudge did not go unheeded, but there was little he could do to prevent his sluggish motions or cease the insisting pounding in his head drowning out the more worldly of intruding voices. He managed to get his wits enough to register the looming threat of a verbal lashing and ask, Who?
I don't know, Xanthoth responded. His dragon's memory did not allow for recognition of Isoldeth, whom he had admired from a distance at least once. (Then again, what green hadn't he eyeballed already?) I'll speak to them. And by them he meant the other dragon. Up and out of the water, the close-but-not-quite adult bronze was easily Isoldeth's size already, if not larger. Greens were small, he thought, but they were cute. Hello, lovely. B'linmine was not expecting visitors. He is feeling ill.
While she issued her reply--assuming she'd even do that--Xanthoth observed her rider with a calm curiosity. Had Wyona just wandered out, it would have been odd enough, but calling out B'lin's name? Did they know each other? B'linmine, it is an older woman. Do you know someone like that?
I don't think so. Just tell her we're fine and to go.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 8:46 pm
As any good dragon should, Isoldeth was busy repeating and reiterating the conversation in quick emotions and tones through to Wyona. It was important that they both knew what was going on at the same time. So one could give the other advise, so to speak.
Wise though she was, however, Isoldeth decided to take the voice in this. It was not merely for the fact that she was being addressed. She started out with as smoothly as can be; she added a small bellowing sound for good measure.
Upon getting no answer, Wyona settled down nearby where B'lin was sleeping. It was hard to assess people when they would not talk, but even the way he was sleeping would tell her something about his condition if Isoldeth had not informed her that B'lin was ill.
"B'lin?" she tried again after she let the silence stretch. "Can I get you something for your sickness?" She felt guilty to be pestering him when he did not feel well, but she would feel much worse for his state if she left him here.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 9:07 pm
Exhaustion. Worry. Hunger. There were so many things a dragon could blame just then, and so many things he would blame before admitting to himself that the great Xanthoth had startled from simply hearing the truth. Of course he was a handsome young fellow, and she was a lovely green indeed. A fleeting, idle thought kept secret within his own mind inquired if this older dragon would still rise. He didn't know if there was a cut off point for that with the greens. If not, he'd be the one to catch her next time, he decided. Renenethlovely could share.
Thank you, lovely. I am Xanthoth. A fish out of water was still a fish; a Xanthoth out of his element with an ailing rider was still Xanthoth. It was a blessing his one-track mind took many long detours. What better reason than His to do it? He reached out to Isoldeth again. B'linmine does not take care of me. We take care of each other, he explained, voice blended with a truly odd mixture of amusement and pride. The very idea of it was so silly! B'linmine is not well in his body or his heart. He would like to be left alone.
But he wasn't being left alone. What was a Weyrling to do? Before his eyes cracked open, he shielded them with a hand, braced for the full blown wrath of the merciless sun. The ball of fire was easing out of the sky much to his relief. He lowered his hand and peered at his company, as unwanted as she was unexpected. Boxed in with the details, he could do nothing but be courtesy. May lightning strike him the day he mistreated a lady--elderly or not.
"No," B'lin answered. The scratchy sound of his own voice came as yet another surprise. He did not like all these surprises sneaking up on him. How long had it been since he'd said anything out loud? Days, he realized with a small dose of aimless spite. Question then was: how many? "No, I'm okay."
How to say this politely...
"Do I know you, ma'am?"
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 9:28 pm
Wyona would have waited there all day if it was necessary. It was against her ethics to force treatment, but it was not against them to passively badger someone who needed it to a point where they gave in.
Taking in a small breath, she folded her hands over her legs and watched B'lin stir. It was a better sign than he had been displaying, and this encouraged her.
"No, I don't think you do, B'lin," she answered quietly. A solution came to her very quickly. Her voice dropped down to a quiet tone, and she encouraged Isoldeth to distract Xanthoth as best she could.
she exclaimed as her eyes shifted to a very interested green. Glancing towards B'lin just long enough to have seen him, Isoldeth took light with Xanthoth once more.
Wyona took the time to guesture in the direction of Xanthoth's wing. "I could have a look at his wing if you'd like me to. If it is fractured and heals wrong, he may not be able to fly as he gets older. It won't take long."
Isoldeth's chattering continued in Xanthoth's direction.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 9:46 pm
Cursed by the unwavering mental fog, B'lin accepted her answer with no further say on the matter. Had he been sound, he'd have gone on to wonder why and how she'd obtained his name, but he was not. The conclusion would have been rushed and inaccurate, regardless; B'lin was the rider of the only bronze in the latest clutch, infamous for reasons not involving color. Who didn't know his name? He could have asked and been greeted with the same silence treasured in this solitary place.
Thank you. Beaming? Not even close. Xanthoth was all but glowing at the attention. Had Renenethlovely not been hatched, he'd have dedicated himself to greens between this one and F'sey's. He was thankful she had been, mind you. A world without Renenethlovely was not worth living in! I have captured many hearts, yes.
Smug b*****d. B'lin could almost feel that scandalous glitter in his eyes. In sickness or in health, he knew what that leak of emotion meant. While his mind rested with his dragon, his ears listened only to Wyona.
"He may not be able to fly as he gets older," she'd said. Ha!
As if that'd be a bad thing, B'lin thought, and the corners of his lips twitched up. Guessing how many romps of, ahem, male persuasion that would spare him from would be a death sentence. Either he would throw himself into more of a fit, or he would sabotage his dragon's chances of being air born. Couldn't have lived with himself either way. "You can look, but he won't like it. He's a bronze for a reason."
Truer words may have never been spoken.
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Posted: Wed Sep 16, 2009 10:20 pm
The edges of Wyona's lips began to display a smile at the mention of Xanthoth being a bronze. "I see," was her answer as she glanced between them. "Does his nature frustrate you?"
With the emotions coming from Isoldeth, and the posture Xanthoth had taken up, Wyona only had one guess as to what 'bronze' meant. Thankfully, B'lin seemed a very reasonable rider if not a little overwhelmed.
After giving him due time to answer, if he chose to at all, Wyona rose to her feet and started towards the pair of dragons.
There was a small chittering noise from the back of the dragon's throat after the mental exclamations.
"Isoldeth tells me your name is Xanthoth, is that right?" Wyona held out a hand to the growing bronze, but let him further his own action. "Could you spread your wings for me, perhaps? I'd love to see their full span up close." Wyona hoped that would play to his ego applicably.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 6:05 am
Slow on the uptake meant being slow to answer, too. B'lin reflected on the question with a retrospective nostalgia. Bakin and Bachi had strayed from Ista, yet it only felt like he'd lost most of his brothers, not all of them. Xanthoth was still there, and much like them, the older he got the more trouble he made. Every sevenday made B'lin long for a simpler time when he was just a little bit younger a dragon, and slightly, slightly less troublesome.
Still...
"No," he mumbled at last. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. Yes or no, insulting the one true loyalty he had left to some woman he'd just met felt wrong. Despicable even. "He's just a hand full is all." And the reason for it could be explained in three short words: "He's a bronze." Who among them didn't act the same way? None he'd seen, that he knew for sure.
Xanthoth cherished the endorsement to his charm and attractive shine. His eyes elevated to B'lin, the whirling shade of sickly yellow--much like the man himself; diversely they were destined to fade into camouflage for the sea. As if he could stop them with all this good will around him.
He nodded to the woman, then he lowered his head for two reasons: One, B'lin had told him to respect his elders, and he knew an old lady when he saw one. Two, for a less dramatic greeting through means of nudging her outstretched hand.
The uninjured wing spread out, far and wide. The other did not. Wyona could only guess why.
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 7:03 am
Although she barely new him, Wyona had had to cast her eyes aside at B'lin's response. Riders, especially young ones, often had a bit of trouble with their dragons for one reason or another. It was the same kind of quip that married couples would give. B'lin's refusal to even acknowledge that was a sort of loyalty that was striking in its simplicity. It would have been so easy for him to have answered yes.
There was a much bigger problem in her hands now, and she didn't mean B'lin's large head. She managed a smile for him and gave him a scratch on the cheek and underneath his head, but the fact that he had not stretched out the other wing at all was extremely troublesome.
If it had broken, it would have to be rebroken to set, and Wyona had half a mind to think it wouldn't be just Xanthoth's wing she shattered in the process. She didn't take it upon herself to hope much, but she was hoping that it was a badly pulled tendon that simply needed flexing and some proper herbs to ease the pain to heal.
"I'm going to go get some things to see if I can't help you spread your other wing as well. I'd like to help you somewhere more sanitary, but if you're quite bent on getting help away from the public eye, Isoldeth and I will keep our mouths and minds sealed." It was the best she could do. Any forcing to cooperate B'lin would have to implement himself. If Xanthoth was particularly upset, any forcing she could have done would have ended up with more wounds to heal and no forwards results.
Giving Xanthoth several compliments on his wings, Isoldeth took it upon herself to take the few waddling steps towards B'lin. She flopped, rather ungracefully, onto the earth next to him and stuck her head in his lap. Her being there would make him feel better. Of course it would!
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 2:37 pm
Xanthoth frowned as much as a dragon could. Too soon he'd been jolted out of a carefree slumber. The wing would not move properly, and the one that did served the purpose just as well if all she wanted was to bare witness to his wingspan. Shards... She wanted more than that. Couldn't she just let it go like he had? Ignoring problems was easy. Xanthoth convinced himself by leaving the wing alone it would heal itself. Here she was basically telling him that wasn't good enough.
He nodded to her, agreeing without any interference from his rider. The public--no, his public--would never frighten him. They could say what they wanted, those other dragons, but he only had this injury because he was brave enough to try what they hadn't at his age. He was proud, not ashamed.
"H--" The 'hey' came out as a heavy breath in the end. B'lin was expecting Xanthoth, yet he seemed to have been given a substitute. The surrogate green reminded him of Miah; nice until the word 'no'. Never one to refuse a lady--dragon or not--he pat her on the head and searched for his own companion.
Almost too well behaved...
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Posted: Thu Sep 17, 2009 3:04 pm
Wyona could not tell if he was agreeing at first. Pride would be a wonderful thing when it came time for healing, but in getting there, bronzes were analogous to trying to freeze butter on a hot day.
At last the nod that she needed, and she nodded in return. The fun was only just beginning, unfortunately.
"I'm going to move the different sections of your hurt wing around, Xanthoth. It will probably hurt, but I want you to tell either B'lin or Isoldeth where and how much if you can. If you'd prefer, you can hit your tail on the ground at varying levels of strength. This is important, and feeling pain doesn't make you any less of a bronze." Her mouth felt dry from the amount of talking she had to do, and she took a quiet step forwards and started with his unhurt wing first.
After she'd finished and had something to compare swelling to, and to give Xanthoth a reference point as to how this would work, she went to the other side.
"Stretch it out as far as you can without it being too painful. I'm going to push down on each of the bony segments in your wing gently. I see a lot of bruising so far, but not much swelling or abnormal bumps, so I'm hoping all you've done is strained some attachments or perhaps torn the muscle. You had cushioning when you fell, is that right?" She kept talking and explaining things as she went, and had gone through quite a lot of words before she'd actually palpated any part of his wing. "You can thump your tail now," she added and started first with the area where most of the bruising was visible.
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