Post by Avu on Jul 12, 2008 22:41:23 GMT -5
Why, of all places, the jungle? It seemed like an irritatingly stupid place to be, but hey. Why not? The dense undergrowth was already bothering T’rid as the young man pushed his way through the foliage. A hiss of annoyance burst from him involuntarily as a branch nearly hit him full in the face; he ducked and felt it scrape against the top of his head. Great. It seemed like the sun was hotter here than anywhere else, and floundering around definitely didn’t help at all. Stupid jungle. Stupid everything, actually. In case one hadn’t noticed, T’rid was far from being in any angelic mood. Truth be told, he’d had a moderately bad day and needed to take it out on something, so he’d come out here to isolate himself. Just in case he lost control and…accidentally…murdered someone. Hey, it had been known to happen.
It would perhaps help if I was with you? Corinth suggested tentatively. T’rid glanced up, but the thick trees blocked out the sky and any sign of Corinth overhead was nearly impossible to pick out. He shook his head, even though Corinth couldn’t see. No, he said firmly. I just need to be alone for a while, okay? I’ll meet up with you back at the Weyr, sun yourself or something while you’re waiting. Corinth huffed mentally, fretfully, at him. It’s difficult to be ‘alone’ when you have a mental link with a dragon, he said challengingly. Whatever. I’ll go to sleep. T’rid blinked the sweat out of his eyes, drawing his dagger to hack his way through a patch of particularly tangled vines.
Quite abruptly, sunlight flooded his eyes as the young man found himself in a clearing. A stream, no doubt linked to the one that ran near the Weyr, bubbled and gushed over fat rocks as it wound its unhurried way through the clearing, disappearing into the trees. Water! Normally T’rid despised getting wet, but right now he was far from picky as long as he got cool. His own perspiration had dampened his shirt. Peeling it from his chest, he tossed it to the ground and squatted next to the river, splashing the cool water on his body. Shards, that felt good! T’rid sighed in relief as he slipped into a sitting position on the ground, cleaning the green sap from his dagger in the river as he let his mind wander.
It actually hadn’t started out as a bad day, it just kind of got there gradually and once it reached its peak, it had been impossible to stay in the Weyr. A few spilled cups of klah and dropped slices of meat, an overturned oil bottle, the lot—it had all seemed to pile up. Surely getting away before he became livid and smashed something was a good idea? T’rid closed his eyes against the sun. He liked it in the clearing even if the sun was nearly unbearable. Perhaps he’d just sleep for a bit. Sleeping always made him feel better, especially if nobody was around. Leaning back against the cool grass, T’rid draped his shirt over his face, squinting through the material. It was a thinner material than most, and he could see, vaguely, shapes and shadows. Nothing more, but it was something. He shrugged it off. As if he could see when he was asleep anyway. His eyes closed once, twice, and sleep washed over him.
It would perhaps help if I was with you? Corinth suggested tentatively. T’rid glanced up, but the thick trees blocked out the sky and any sign of Corinth overhead was nearly impossible to pick out. He shook his head, even though Corinth couldn’t see. No, he said firmly. I just need to be alone for a while, okay? I’ll meet up with you back at the Weyr, sun yourself or something while you’re waiting. Corinth huffed mentally, fretfully, at him. It’s difficult to be ‘alone’ when you have a mental link with a dragon, he said challengingly. Whatever. I’ll go to sleep. T’rid blinked the sweat out of his eyes, drawing his dagger to hack his way through a patch of particularly tangled vines.
Quite abruptly, sunlight flooded his eyes as the young man found himself in a clearing. A stream, no doubt linked to the one that ran near the Weyr, bubbled and gushed over fat rocks as it wound its unhurried way through the clearing, disappearing into the trees. Water! Normally T’rid despised getting wet, but right now he was far from picky as long as he got cool. His own perspiration had dampened his shirt. Peeling it from his chest, he tossed it to the ground and squatted next to the river, splashing the cool water on his body. Shards, that felt good! T’rid sighed in relief as he slipped into a sitting position on the ground, cleaning the green sap from his dagger in the river as he let his mind wander.
It actually hadn’t started out as a bad day, it just kind of got there gradually and once it reached its peak, it had been impossible to stay in the Weyr. A few spilled cups of klah and dropped slices of meat, an overturned oil bottle, the lot—it had all seemed to pile up. Surely getting away before he became livid and smashed something was a good idea? T’rid closed his eyes against the sun. He liked it in the clearing even if the sun was nearly unbearable. Perhaps he’d just sleep for a bit. Sleeping always made him feel better, especially if nobody was around. Leaning back against the cool grass, T’rid draped his shirt over his face, squinting through the material. It was a thinner material than most, and he could see, vaguely, shapes and shadows. Nothing more, but it was something. He shrugged it off. As if he could see when he was asleep anyway. His eyes closed once, twice, and sleep washed over him.
