You get what you deserve (Tag Lir)

[Rei]

Sel’n watched the apprentice leave with feigned disinterest. Once she was out of eyesight he grabbed the small bottle of fellis she had left behind and quickly tucked it into his breast pocket. Ok so it wasn’t exactly morally correct to steal things from the sick, but they had plenty of it. Besides they wouldn’t give it to him if he asked. That he was sure of. Vanity, his resident tattletale, was thankfully off visiting her mate. Not that she couldn’t be bribed. She had been only to happy to visit the infirmary. Sel'n had really come to visit Kaaoloth, among other things, but if she wished to keep believing the world revolved around her eh. He had no desire to try and convince her otherwise.

The brown was still recovering from his burns. They where severe enough to keep him under observation for just a little longer. It gave him a nice excuse to visit the infirmary. The large brown was getting restless however. Right now he was thankfully asleep. Timing this all right was giving him a headache. Not to mention that going to the infirmary forced the man to confront the horrors he was positive he had a hand in bringing. Shuddering slightly as he walked down the hallway the rider tried to keep his eyes averted. Don’t look. Don’t look.

What made Sel’n pause outside the door he wasn’t sure, but he brought his head up to take a quick look and stopped in his tracks. The shocking red hair he recognized. He didn’t know the rider well at all. At least not personally He was supposedly one of his weyrlings. One he had never had to teach because the man knew it all already. The last contact he had with the young man was Baoth’s flight. One that Kaaoloth had lost, but he still somehow still got wrapped up in the after party.

Swallowing against the lump that suddenly formed in his throat, Sel'n took a hesitant step into the room and paused. What could he possibly say? Sorry? It sounded so dumb and besides it wouldn’t help anything. Yes, the whole thing was in a huge way his fault but he couldn’t fix anything now. As he debated a voice entered his head, a familiar one. You could at least say hi. I am sure he noticed you by now. I thought you where asleep? I was.

Kaaoloth raised his head and yawned. The touch on the green’s mind was light. Good day Baoth. How is yours today? The words where a friendly attempt at conversation if she wanted one. Don’t mind mine. He desires to see yours. If he bothers you feel free to kick him out. Grumbling mentally Sel’n took another breath and spoke. “K’lir?” What an intelligent start at conversation. Shut up you. Your obviously feeling better if you’re up to prodding.

[glamourie]

The weyrling greenrider was literally sprawled on his cot, arms spread out lazily at his sides (which emphasized the bandaged burns on his right arm), knees pulled up, looking extremely relaxed. Technically, he wasn’t injured enough to be confined to the infirmary – it was the nature of the extended injuries that kept him there: he was still learning to function without eyesight, which was a project and a half. Being ‘uninjured’ and physically capable of moving, he found the stay in the infirmary to be exceptionally boring, as evidenced by the green weyrlingrider’s half-asleep state. Ever since the Main Hall, he’d been sleeping way too much if only to pass the time. When he wasn’t asleep, he was usually listening. Sounds were heightened to him, to such a degree that he felt himself almost deaf before – for he’d never noticed the way that the infirmary staff’s shoes squeaked as they walked around, or the sound of true boots hitting the ground that usually signified the arrival of one of the riders, the wind outside picking up as evening came and went – it was strange and interesting, the sounds of Selenitas.

And he heard footsteps. Lying very still on his cot, K’lir cocked his head to the side and listened to the movement outside his infirmary room. He didn’t turn his head. He didn’t need to, since trying to ‘see’ whoever it was, was kind of pointless. Boots. A rider. No squeaking, not an apprentice. The intervals between each step were hesitant; someone who was nervous. It didn’t sound like Ka’rys (the bronzerider, when he wore shoes, always walked with a quick one-two step that was very distinct), who’d been coming in a lot. It didn’t sound like M’ta, either; his footsteps were quieter. Not one of the patients that he recognized, though possible. He wasn’t really very good at identifying all the sounds, just the most frequent ones. This one was new.

Speaking. His name. He knew that voice – Sel’n.

“So that’s who it is,” he said, half to himself. One arm flung up to rest over his chest and he squirmed back on the cot, making it squeak noisily. He carefully rearranged himself until he was sitting properly, and then folded his legs underneath his body. “Sel’n, if you’re idling in the doorway, please come in and stop being a fire hazard.” He hadn’t heard him walk off, so presumably he was still there. “There’s a chair in here.” Though where it was, he couldn’t say. He just knew there was one because the healers tended to sit there when talking to him and R’wign coming in to talk wasn’t at all a rarity. Given his injured state, the healer usually sat down just to make talking more comfortable. Actually, K’lir’d gotten quite a few visitors, most of whom surprised him. He didn’t really expect to see all that many people. He had very few friends. “Did you need something?” Sel’n was definitely not on the ‘friend’ list, so if he was there it was probably because – “Oh, uh, I’m going to need to be, er, excused from weyrling lessons for awhile. Not that I’ve been attending, heh.”

Kaaoloth’s greeting made Baoth lift her head and turn to look in the direction of the brown dragon. Hints of thought swirled through her rapidly whirling eyes and the green offered a quiet, almost half-hearted croon. She blamed herself heavily for K’lir’s injured state – if she’d stayed with him, perhaps she could’ve prevented him from harm. He didn’t seem too terribly bothered, but Baoth knew him better than most: he was putting on a strong face to avoid pity and worry but he wasn’t perfectly okay, not like he was pretending. He was determined to not let the injuries keep him down though. Small favors, at least.

Good afternoon, Kaaoloth. K’lirMyLove is bored. If Yours is not busy, the little bronze king will need to be oiled soon, and K’lirMyLove does not know where any oil is. He was going to ask Checkoth’s, but it would be helpful if Yours could help. She chose not to comment on ‘bothering.’ Odds were, yes, Kaaoloth’s would bother Hers. He was K’lir. He was bothered by other people existing. If he got too upset, he’d kick Sel’n out himself. And he didn’t need Kaaoloth’s permission to do that.

[Rei]

Sel’n nearly started as he was addressed. Ah at least he was remembered. A small ghost of a smirk flitted across his face at the fire hazard comment. Striding into the room without further comment he hooked the chair with his leg, from it’s position near the wall, and carried it to K’lir’s bedside. Once there he settled into it and gingerly sat. For a moment he let his eyes roam over the other man’s form. Most of the burns where mild he had been told. One perk of being in the infirmary so often was that he got to learn the gossip about the patients. Unbidden his eyes flitted to the other mans. Blank they where. Blind. It was sad. Oh sure it was possible for the man to get around the injury and even function well with it. But it would no doubt be a hindrance. How many lives had he ruined completely? Sel’n didn’t know but each new realization made him feel worse.

Managing to chuckle a small bit at the comment about lessons the Weyrlingmaster spoke. “You hardly have to worry about lessons K’lir. You could teach the class yourself I have no doubt. It was silly of anyone to expect you to attend them in the first place in my opinion.” He paused after that and added hesitantly. “How are you feeling?” Probably a stupid question but he wanted to know. Not that he could fix anything. The real reason he had for coming he still wasn’t quite sure. If it was to punish himself he was doing a good enough job of that already. So many injured. Permanently. So many dead. Swallowing again he let his eyes flicker over the room.

Kaaoloth crooned low as Baoth spoke. She sounded upset. Though with her bonded injured such it was no small wonder. Blinking the brown tilted his head. I imagine it is quite boring for yours. Mine is not busy currently. If yours needs anything he has but to ask. Gingerly the brown shifted positions and winced as a small bit of pain flared. Annoying it was but it passed quickly. I will pass the message about the oil. Quietly he did such before continuing. I am sorry I neglected to ask earlier. How are you Baoth? He paused to allow an answer before he continued. I am sorry that I don’t have the pleasure of seeing you at lessons. Yours has done a good job teaching you himself I believe. But if you need anything feel free to ask and I will make sure you get it.

Hanging his head the brown let his gaze pass across the other dragons currently at the infirmary. Some of them where steadfast in ignoring him. It saddened Kaaoloth. However it was not unexpected. Sel’n and him where bound to be unpopular after the attack. It was sad that he had to feel uncomfortable at a place he so loved. A place he now thought of as home. It could just be the paranoia from his bleeding over but it was obvious that some of the dragons where avoiding him. Thankfully it seemed that Baoth was not one of them and he was glad. He liked the green. The brown had never gotten the pleasure of teaching her but she was impressive in her own right. Her first flight had proven her skill in the air.

Sel’n had nodded imperceptibly as the message was passed and idly dug into his pocket for the small bottle of oil he had there. Idly his hand brushed against the small bottle of fellis as well and he felt a flicker of remorse before pushing that aside. Holding the oil up to examine it he commented softly. “Baoth tells Kaaoloth that you need some oil for Showoff. I have a small bottle you can have.” It wasn’t as if he didn’t have plenty at home. Although if Vanity knew she would probably throw a fit. It was hers after all. It had a pleasant lavender odor. Hopefully Showoff wouldn’t mind. Wasn’t it supposed to be a claming scent? “Here.” Softly he took the other man’s hand and pressed the bottle against his palm.

[glamourie]

“Flattery will only get you seconds and I think you’ve probably had enough of me to last a lifetime, weyrlingmaster, if our last meeting is any indication. In any case I’m too injured to be of any use to you, but please, keep kissing my ass, I do so love it.” There was a definite dry sarcasm in K’lir’s voice that left no doubt to his feelings on Sel’n’s compliments – well meant though they undoubtedly were. He didn’t intend to attend weyrling lessons, no, for the simple reason that he didn’t need them beyond the more primitive things, like betweening, and that was only for safety purposes (he wouldn’t put Baoth and himself at risk like that). Everything else, he’d managed to teach her himself, and K’lir took pride in that. However, implying he could teach a bunch of squabbling idiots how to yank their heads out of their rectums and function was a laughable offense, and he didn’t believe for one second that Sel’n actually believed that. If he did, he didn’t know K’lir at all. His patience and tolerance with others was minimal at best and his bluntness was clear indication of that. He really didn’t appreciate people trying to deliberately patronize him. It rubbed him wrong.

As for how he was feeling? Answer: Restless. He couldn’t wander around because he didn’t know where things were (he’d walked into a wall twice in his attempts to locate the chamber pots, something that Showoff found highly entertaining and had mocked him about for a good ten minutes with snippy comments like Wall there, Lovemine. Silly. Walls always there!) and that meant that he was confined, essentially, to his room where he could cause the most minimal amount of destruction. The visitors he got were sparing at best. Mostly just healers and his mother. Actually, it was kind of lonely: most of his friends were dead, which was a very harsh realization for him. Uu’n. Beka. D’nar. K’ran. They were all dead… and K’lir really had no intentions of finding new ones. He’d never been good at it to start with. So… he was bored. Bored and somewhat lonely. But he had no intentions of admitting the latter to anyone, least of all Sel’n who was a veritable stranger to him.

Squirming in his spot, the green weyrlingrider offered a shrug in response to the question. “I’m bored. There’s not a lot I can do. And yes, Showoff needs oiled, I’m pretty sure he’s itching but the only commentary he has right now is that he doesn’t like you because you’re Vanity’s. Or, well, he’s not commenting – he’s never shy – he’s just kind of seething and,” K’lir cut off abruptly as the oil was put in his hand and he almost dropped it; surprising him was rarely a good thing. He moved his other hand over to grope at the bottle, bringing it up to his face to sniff it before blinking. His face never turned, nor did his eyes, but his expression told his amusement. “Oh that’s a masculine scent. Showoff, you’re going to smell like a giiiiirl.”

World, Showoff hates!

Just the same, the salamandyr scurried down K’lir’s arm, his off-color hide more than a little prominent. There was almost no metallic sheen to the little bronze, and he looked significantly less red than usual, doubtlessly a side effect of having recently lost his mate. The green weyrlingrider uncorked the bottle and smeared some of the oil onto his salamandyr – a touch too much, due to being unable to see the amount he was pouring. He capped it again and laid it on his leg, trusting Sel’n to take it back as he smoothed the lavender oil into Showoff’s hide. The little seething bronze fixed Sel’n with a stare that dared him to question it. He was just looking for an excuse to bite someone. K’lir’s quiet laughter was all the indication needed to tell he took great amusement in the obvious emasculation of his little pet. Silly Showoff.

“What brought you here, anyway?”

Flicking her tail, Baoth turned to look in the general direction of Kaaoloth, her eyes still whirling her worry. She didn’t really have an opinion of him – primarily because her focus was very tunnel: Hers was hurt, he needed fixing, it was her fault for not protecting him. The attack itself was pushed to the back of her mind (Not forgotten, but not acknowledged either) in favor of priorities. The inquiry as to her health surprised her and she allowed herself a moment of vanity, flaring her wings lightly, K’lirMyLove is the best. And he will show all of Pern that once he gets used to this. You will all see. It was the only hint of her determination that she showed before replying, The weyrhealer and K’lirMyLove’s clutchmother help to oil me; I hunt for myself. Do I not look fine? My concern is for my rider – and yes, I worry. That is how I am: worried and restless. I would ask how you are, but I already know. Do your burns heal at all?

[Rei]

K’lir’s words caused Sel’n to hang his head and sigh. Really why did he even bother sometimes? Eyes flicking to the greenrider he shook his head. Really had he been expecting anything more? Not really. As well meaning as he had been with his complements, it hadn’t been received well. Sometimes he just couldn’t win for losing. The brownrider settled farther back into the chair and tapped his boot on the floor considering. “Vanity doesn’t make me many friends. I wouldn’t change her though.” He meant it to. For better or worse he did love the green harpy. Even if she had her ways of making his life seem like hell. She loved him, it was her saving grace. Which is more than he could say for most people. Sel’n wasn’t easy to love. Although that was likely more his fault than anything. Something he didn’t acknowledge or admit.

The Weyrlingmaster distracted himself by watching K’lir oil Showoff. The paleness of the mandyr was worrisome. He had heard about Dael’s death but hadn’t realized it would affect a mandyr quite this badly to lose it’s mate. Mandyrs where emotional creatures though, so it did make sense. Thankfully Lust was ok. If he wasn’t the rider was sure it would affect Vanity negatively. She was very attached to her bronze. The brownrider didn’t comment at the amount of oil used, nor did he move to take the oil back. He had plenty at his weyr. K’lir could have it. Although judging by Showoff's displeasure with the scent it might not get used again. Shrug. Either way Sel’n didn’t much have an opinion. The man hadn’t even noticed that he had retreated into his own head until K’lir spoke again.

“What brought you here, anyway?”

Bringing his head up sharply the brownrider considered the words. What did he say? Every possible response sounded stupid in one way or another. Finally he went with. “I wanted to see how you where.” It seemed a safe enough answer. Not particularly revealing no, but true enough. He had wanted to see how the man was. “Kaaoloth will be in the infirmary for sometime still. I guess I just wanted to make a few visits to people.” He trailed off before offering quietly. “I’m sorry K’lir.” Immediately he wished he could take the words back. But what was done was done. Besides he was sorry. He did feel guilty. To him the feeling wasn’t irrational. Fort had come, in part, to take him. If they had just given in to demands would this have all went differently? He didn’t know. But it was likely. Fort didn’t do things without reason.

Kaaoloth nodded at Baoth’s offered words, ignoring the pain in his neck. The pain would be there for weeks yet. Although it was distracting, it wasn’t horrible. Of course she would feel such for hers. It was natural. He crooned softly. Of course you look lovely. It is good that they care for you so. I am afraid I have worded that poorly. Forgive me. Twitching his tail, which was thankfully clear of burns, he considered things carefully before offering. Yes some of my burns have healed but they tell me that the worst of them will take months to heal completely. Wincing slightly he closed his eyes. I am sorry for what happened to yours. I do not think there will be anyone who does not carry some scar from this event. There is some saying the humans use. Something along the line of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I guess it is true in part.

[glamourie]

K’lir decided not to point out to Sel’n that it was less to do with Vanity and more to do with Lust that Showoff found her so irritating. Part of it likely was also Freckle, but the honest majority of his bronze’s hatred for Vanity was her choice in mates: Showoff disliked Lust so much that K’lir had to avoid being around Kalierre for extended periods of time. Vanity was just… run off. Although her personality did not win her any bonus points with his little bronze. The amount of salamandyrs that Showoff did honestly like, though, was actually rather small. K’lir strongly suspected that Showoff was just as picky with his own kind as K’lir was with other humans. It was sad, since Showoff detested firelizards, dragons and whers. He was tolerant of people for the most part… really, for the most part. Some people (like Sel’n) were obviously exceptions. The salamandyr in his hands twitched in disdain. Smelled like a girl, he did. How ick.

The Weyrlingmaster’s statement surprised him and K’lir tilted his head to the side, analyzing the tone for anything that could tell him how it was meant. Fortunately, he didn’t need to wait long: “I’m sorry, K’lir” followed in such a guilty tone that the green weyrlingrider twitched prominently. He set Showoff down in his lap and brought his hands to his sides, curling his fingers in the sheets. Yes, he was quite angry.

“What are you sorry for, Sel’n?” K’lir asked silkily, half belying the fury in his tone. “The fact that I got hurt?” There was definitely more poison coming into his voice. “The fact that I’ll never see my son’s smile again? That I’ll never be able to pick out my own clothes without the danger of them not matching? Or is it really the fact that your deluded self-righteous sense of duty has you convinced that I stayed near a building that I knew was going to be burnt because of something that in some way relates to you?” By the time that sentence finished, the growl was fully audible – only a fool would be unable to tell that he was angry. “You stupid northerners who think that everything relates to you. I stayed because I didn’t want S’rei’s nephew to get hurt. I knew very well the risk that I was taking and I don’t regret it in the least. Where are you, I want to punch you.” Half-climbing off the bed, the green weyrlingrider turned and scrambled to his feet. “Deluded idiot, the only person at Selenitas that is injured that is even remotely your fault is your dragon but I’ll bet you’re wandering around thinking how it’s all your fault, how you could’ve prevented this – I’m going to ask S’rei to break your face for me. The only people responsible for people being hurt are Fort and those disgusting mouthbreathers, High Reaches. They are the ones who owe me an apology. Not you. So take it and use it to pry your head out of anus.”

Eloquence, thy name was K’lir. Though, honestly, he saw no reason to feign patience for Sel’n when eh other man was clearly being idiotic beyond description. Had he been at the Main Hall? No. Did he tell Fort to attack? No. Did he tell High Reaches to flee to their Weyr for safety? No. Would it have mattered in what happened to K’lir if he had? No. Because ultimately, the decision was his, not Sel’n’s. He’d stayed near the Main Hall because he spotted Miguel; he’d known there was a strong chance of burns. Blindness was, admittedly, not something he’d ever have predicted, but even knowing what he knew at present, he didn’t think he did the wrong thing. He also was angry because he thought it presumptuous for anyone to assume what happened was all their fault. Tragedies were discredited by ego. His home was in ashes, and Sel’n was only thinking about how bad he felt. Stupid. He needed to grow up – and there weren’t many times that K’lir could say or think that about anyone.

Kaaoloth’s commentary – mixed with the runoff of K’lir’s anger to Baoth – made the green flick her tail down toward the ledge with alarming force. Yours is very arrogant, she told him, with absolutely no hint of remorse in her tone. This place is the home of so many – the only home many have ever known. The only home that I have known, that LirMyLove has ever known – to say that we all will carry scars is an understatement. This is our home, and they have damaged it – and all Yours can think is that it is his fault. Is he always this unintelligent, or is that reserved solely for interaction with people who cannot see enough to punch him?

[Rei]

Sel’n’s first clue that he had screwed up came in the tone K’lir’s voice took. The brownrider stayed still as the rant began and only shifted once when the greenrider scrambled out of bed to presumably attempt to punch him. Surely he wasn’t quite that mad. Nope he was the poison and fury in the spoken words could hardly be denied. In the end the Weyrlingmaster was sure that the best course of action was not to give away his position by opening his mouth. Instead he sat quietly and went over and over the words that had been spoken. They had a ring of truth to them. They did, but the realization that K’lir spoke truth didn’t make him feel any better. There where those who would blame him anyway. Yes it was true enough that High Reaches had brought Fort here and that it was Fort’s hand that dealt the blows. Still there had to have been something more he could have done to prevent things. Right?

Wrong. Kaaoloth’s voice seemed to echo through his head. Maybe you should listen to what K’lir says about taking your head out of you rear Fussypantsmine. There was nothing either of us could have done. You know he speaks the truth. The brown trailed of as Baoth spoke and a slightly amused color swirled into his eyes for a moment before he responded. His voice was level and calm. I do not think mine seeks to be arrogant. Rather he is a very unobservant and slightly misguided human. He does behave so with the intention of making people angry. It is just something he unintentionally does.

It was as close to the truth as Kaaoloth could come. His did not have the social skills some people had. He had never developed them, and no. His was not arrogant, far from. He tended to make people angry because he was self deprecating. To a large degree actually. He seconded guessed just about everything. His has very hard on himself. Always had been. To Baoth he went on. This is my home as well, whether I was born here or not. We will rebuild as we have always done. Life will always go on. Tail tip twitching he feel silent then. Yes there had been pain, suffering, and death and their would be scars but they would heal and life would continue. It was the way of things.

Sel’n wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He felt absurdly awkward. Running a hand through graying hair he sighed. “It wasn’t my intention to upset you K’lir.” He said softly. The rider had almost added that he was sorry again but had thankfully stopped the words before they had even formed on his lips. “What you say makes sense.” Perhaps one just needed to have his head bashed with it multiple times before he came to believe it himself. Hmm. “If it’s all the same to you I’d like to keep my face unbroken.” He finished eyes watching the other rider in case he actually did intend to make good on his threat to throw punches. Getting punched by someone wasn’t on his list of things to do today.

[glamourie]

“Not your intention, but you did it anyway so whatever.” Angry, K’lir was, and that meant he wasn’t making any allowances. No forgiveness. The fact that Sel’n didn’t even sound like he understood just how irritating he was being – he just sounded like he was bottling and making K’lir’s anger yet another thing that was his fault. “Is that why you came here, weyrlingmaster? To look at me, pity me and feel sorry for yourself? Well, I don’t want your pity, and find someone else to feel sorry for yourself about – I hear R’wign’s pretty ticked at you, maybe you can wallow over that. I will be just fine. I’m not going to let a little thing like not being able to see stop me, and I don’t need your guilt. Like I said, if I had the chance to do it all again, I’d do it all exactly the same, because you know what? Knowing that S’rei’s nephew will get to grow up, that Lauranna’s son will get to stand if he wants to, that he’ll reach adulthood and maybe have a family of his own – that is worth it to me. She and S’rei both are worth that to me and I’m not sorry. So you can go feel sorry for someone, but feel sorry for someone who is actually regretful or upset. And Faranth yes I’m right – I happened to be there when they made their demands, and just so you know, S’rei wouldn’t have let you hand yourself over even if you wanted to. So stop being stupid.”

It took all of his effort not to cry. Stupid; he was being stupid. Sel’n was an idiot, but he shouldn’t have been rambling – he didn’t owe anyone any explanations, most assuredly not the weyrlingmaster. K’lir brought one hand and rubbed the heel of his palm under his eye roughly. He wasn’t crying. He just wasn’t.

His mind organized things simply: Sel’n wasn’t the one who caused Fort to attack them, High Reaches was. Once again, High Reaches had messed up his life. He hated them and if he could see, he probably would’ve tried to smother the injured High Reaches riders with a pillow. It was fortunate he had no idea where they were and none of the healers would tell him (smart, they were). Fort was not without blame: some would blame them more but if High Reaches hadn’t fled to Selenitas, they wouldn’t have attacked, so K’lir blamed High Reaches more. He was still very resentful of both groups though and when he found out that people were willing to let the captives/refugees stay, he’d almost screamed in fury. The only saving grace was that Baoth told him that none of the ones from the Main Hall had survived. Only two from the Hatching Grounds, apparently, and she was quite disdainful that Selenitas was letting another green in. Apparently they had too many already. He kind of agreed with her.

“What did you want, Sel’n? You can leave now.” He didn’t want Sel’n to see him cry. His pride wouldn’t allow it. So K’lir turned and pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in them to try and hide his upset from view. He knew he was over-reacting, but… well, he was justified, wasn’t he? Just a tad.

He’s not crying because of Yours. That was the only response that Baoth offered to Kaaoloth – and really it was the only thing she felt like saying, period. The green crooned softly, the sound carrying to K’lir, and she curled up more. He’d been immensely upset for several days, ever since he discovered that he’d never be able to see again, and for good reason: the hatchling, Kahrelir, didn’t make any noise, which meant K’lir wouldn’t be able to care for him anymore. He was very upset over the idea of finding someone else to look after the hatchling and Baoth didn’t blame him. She was, too. Thinking about it always sent K’lir to tears, and Baoth felt ever more guilty. Maybe she could have done something. Maybe. But there was no way to know – only sorrow remained.

Bad ugly. Upset mine. Sorry, say it, destroy Showoff will. DO IT!

[Rei]

Sel’n just watched K’lir quietly. The older rider was completely at a loss. He just wasn’t equipped to comfort people. He never had been good at it. Not even as a kid. He just didn’t know how. Every time he tired he seemed to make things worse and this was becoming a classic example. He wasn’t sure if he should answer the greenrider’s questions or not. It seemed like the man was doing a good enough job answering them himself. Alas all he could do was stand there and probably look awkward. What else could be do? It wasn’t as if the Weyrlingmaster could comment on anything K’lir was saying.

Mention of R’wign had the rider wincing. Yes the other brownrider probably was ticked. However Sel’n really hadn’t kept anything from him. How was it his fault he didn’t remember what had happened? Pushing those thoughts from his mind, it wasn’t as if R’wign would care anyway, he watched as K’lir finished his rant and curled up on his bed. Way to go Sel’n you just seem to be the sharding master at screwing everything up. He berated himself mentally and for once Kaaoloth offered no comment. The brownrider didn’t know what to do, his attempt at any comfort would probably be unwanted. Maybe he should just go. He had just turned to leave as was bidden when Showoff spoke. The command and anger in the little creature’s voice stalled him.

Knowing he would probably regret it sooner rather than later, Sel’n approached K’lir and reached out to put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry K’lir. I’ve upset you and I’ve acted like a selfish fool. I know I can’t take back what I said or fix anything. However I am sorry to have upset you.” He shook his head. He was sorry. He hadn’t meant to come here and upset him. That hadn’t been his intention. Yes the brownrider was wallowing in self guilt. He did so frequently in fact. Maybe it wasn’t right but it was all he knew and it was a hard habit to break. “I’ll go now. If you need from me don’t hesitate to ask.” He didn’t expect the other to actually ask anything but he offered anyway. He gave the man’s shoulder another squeeze and flicked his eyes to Showoff as if asking for permission to leave.

Kaaoloth just crooned to softly to Baoth and curled up on himself, wincing as his burn’s throbbed. He could offer that he was sorry but it wouldn’t do anything. Nothing he could say or do would fix anything. All he could do was stay silent and let things be. Depressing it was. Beyond depressing really. He half blamed his for the depression but knew it wasn’t totally his bonded’s fault. You reap what you sow after all.