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 Posted: Thu Sep 25, 2014 9:09 pm
This was a monumental day. Or one of several such days he'd been having. No longer was he stuck, chained in a cave where light never touched him. Where he had nothing to keeping him company, except the times that She would visit. Not even his dragon spoke to him unless it was a very rare occasion. But he had done what he'd been asked, and now master Keller had two Weyrs! Or so he'd been told. Valik had only just found out he was at Benden. And that he was allowed to walk around. Though he still had a guard watching him. Not very intently since the broken man couldn't escape.
Moving at his slow pace, the soft clink of a cane tapping the ground, Valik explored this new world he was allowed to enter. There were memories that begged to be remembered. Of a time when he lived in a Weyr. But he pushed those away. No one would ever think of him as a rider again. Not even himself.
A heavily disapproving sense of emotion swirled around his head, followed by an image of an irritated person. No one he knew, just someone Raith had seen that could adequately portray the emotion. Valik paused where he stood, forever hunched over and leaning heavily on his cane. A almost invisible smile crept along his lips at feeling his dragons presence in his mind. More and more lately, Raith had been hovering closer. Words were not exchanged, but the feeling of Raith there was enough. Though he dearly wished he could see his dragon. Walk with him. Valik sighed softly, looking out over what was Benden Weyr.
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Posted: Mon Oct 20, 2014 2:56 pm
Malta and Poecileth were talking a well-earned break which – for the busy pair – meant a pleasant walk around the weyr and a long sunning for Poecileth by the lake. The two rarely had a chance to properly relax, and it was only recently that Poecileth had allowed Malta to walk by herself in the dangerous Wherhold weyr. Not until they had allies: Dragons and riders who Poecileth had managed to charm with her (sometimes too bold) silver tongue, and people who appreciated Malta's genuinely caring hand and good attitude (for a healer, anyway). Armed with these people, Poecileth felt better about allowing her rider out of her protective site. And so, Malta walked, enjoying the beautiful day, the rare day free of emergency and disaster, and Poecileth soaked up warmth on a stone a good ways away. Seeing the man with the cane did not bother Malta, nor did it ruin her day at all. Her trained eye, however, noticed his injuries and – with a vague wariness – watched him in case he stumbled or fell. Feeling friendly, and Oblivious to his guard, she gave him a smile and a wave when he happened to look at her.
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Posted: Sat Oct 25, 2014 6:58 pm
He had not realized that anyone else was walking the way he'd been going. Well, anyone else beside his Guard. Who was somewhere in the shadows just watching him. Valik knew he was. The hairs on the back of his neck would not settle. Oh no. But when someone smiled and gave him a wave, the tormented man froze, eyes bluging in fear. Had... he done something wrong?! Oh Faranth he hoped not! Keller would surely take away his freedom...
Stupid wherry. She is greeting you. Was the cool reply that so rarely entered his mind.
G-Greeting him? Not... threatening? Or... or scolding? Valik was so lost and unsure how to respond he stared stupidly at the woman, forgot he was in the middle of taking a step, and tumbled to the floor, cane rolling away. A strangled yet hushed cry escaped between his lips.
Valik tried to crawl towards the cane, knowing no help would come from the Guard. He kept his face hidden by his dark, matted hair.
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Posted: Mon Nov 03, 2014 4:43 pm
“Ah!” she exclaimed as his face contorted and he fell. She ran over with a speed that, once, before Poecileth, would have eluded her. He hit the ground before she could reach him, but she was at his side within moments. “Sir? Sir?” she could see no knots, but drudge or whatever he was, a life was a life and she respected that more than rank. Healer training kicked her fears to the side, and she put her hands on him, mechanically checking for breakages. “Shh.” she said, trying to still him, “stay still, I want to make sure you're not hurt...” Hurt more... poor man. His age was hard to tell, but she could see – even with the cloak, that he had been ravaged. Poecileth roused from her nap, her half open eyes a worried yellow. Malta said, though she was concerned.
“Sir, did you hit your head?”
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Posted: Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:14 pm
He tried to tell himself that his cane was just right there, beyond the tips of his fingers. And if he reached just a little more, he could grab it. But he knew that wasn't true. It was beyond his reach. And now the one that had waved to him was suddenly beside him. Valik cringed from her touch, fear making him worry what her hands might do. Would she beat him then? Bind his hands and return him to his cave?
"P-Please... I... I'm sorry." He rasped in a voice that was not used to speaking words.
Not hurt? This was something he was not used to. She... she was checking him? No one had ever done that before. They'd just dealt him their blows and left him to lick his wounds. "Not hurt." He managed.
Idiot. Raith shifted in the dark space he was confined to while his rider walked free. He shielded his mind from the other dragon he knew touched the woman's mind. She is a rider.
"No." He crooked after taking a few very deep breaths. "M'head... s'fine. J-Just fell." A rider?! Oh Faranth! Certainly she would go tell Keller he'd gone and shaffed up on... on something! "M-My... the cane?" Tilting his head just enough, the matted hair fell away to reveal his face. Heavily scarred, like the rest of him, with dull grey eyes. "Can you... help me r-retrieve it?"
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Posted: Tue Nov 04, 2014 9:57 pm
Sorry? For what? Malta was confused: normally, she was the one apologizing for nothing... though... she'd been doing that less and less now. Poecileth roused, her eyes a mild, but definite, yellow as she waited to see if she needed to fly to her Malta's aid. Not to help her specifically, but sometimes it was handy for the healer to have a large dragon at hand. “All right.” Malta didn't believe him – falls were harmless, often, but could also be very bad. She would not believe him until she had made very sure of it... but she knew when she had to be careful with a patient, and she didn't want to agitate the poor man more than was necessary. That he flinched from her touch told her that much. “I'll get it for you.” She reached out, her position bringing her close enough for the cane. She took it in hand and brought it over “See? Here...” she began to lift him, “Let me help you up...” he was disturbingly light, and heavily scarred. He looked... broken. Through her eyes, Poecileth watched, concerned. She agreed with Malta's assessment. she concluded to her rider. A terribly abused one. Malta tried to get him to his feet and held him until he was stable before giving him back his cane...
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Posted: Tue Nov 11, 2014 7:42 pm
He was confused. Very confused. And unsure what to do. This woman was touching him. Gently so. Trying to... help? That was not right. No. Oh no, he wasn't supposed to get help from anyone! Usually when he felt any human contact it was a swift kick or shove to the ground. And he still expected this, even as she showed him his cane and started to pull him up to his feet. A mumbled whine slipped through his clenched teeth as things ached and he managed to stand up. Or... as much as he could, anyways. He'd never stand up straight again.
A shaky hand reached hesitantly for the cane, as if he was afraid she'd refuse to give it back to him. Or worse, hit him with it.
But she wasn't. And his hand closed over the smooth wood, the familiar weight giving him some semblance of an anchor. She was being so nice. Just like... Terene had been. And that frightened him the most. His sweet angel. And worst tormentor. Yet this wasn't Her...
"T-Thank... you... " He croaked out in a small voice, risking a glance at the woman. A sense of approval wafted through his mind that felt like Raith.
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Posted: Sun Dec 14, 2014 1:31 pm
“Of course!” said Malta, smiling at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way. She was not convinced, however that he was as fine as he claimed to be: even if the fall hadn't done anything, the man was a walking bag of bones and she couldn't tell how old he was through the scars and obvious pain he was in. “Here.” she said, holding him as he stabilized himself, “There's a bench over there. You should sit down for a moment...” she said, guiding him towards it. It would give him a chance to catch his breath and calm down a little from his obvious agitation, and be more comfortable than standing. In theory... it looked as though he was going to be uncomfortable in any position, but at least he would be off his feet. Poecileth let her eyelids sink, enjoying the sunlight. It was clear that her rider was fine and did not need her help.
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