The Dawning (R'ven)

[Requiem]

In big caves, most like, yes, Harperlove? Dementia offered Hers cooingly, her little leg brushing delicately over that part of the fading map. The wherhandler frowned lightly at it. Set back in the foothills of the mountains that could be seen to the north of here, the caves were vastly uncharted, and likely sprawled all through the mountain range. "Likely more than felines there, beautiful. Wild whers, tunnelsnakes, wyrms and other things long forgotten. If we wanted to rid ourselves of what's in there, we'd need a stronger team than what we've currently got. The wherlings don't impress me, on the whole." Most of the pairs didn't, in fact. Either the wher was good, or the handler was, but most of the pairs didn't come with two solid halves. A pity. It would be easier if he could just make the reliable whers bond to reliable people. A small sigh. So much for wishing.

Human nasties, too, your beauty be thinking, Dementia added, in an appropriately grim tone. Dmitri tried to hide the smile. She was trying so hard to please him this morning, but it would likely end as it always did, with her suggesting that he shouldn't go back to the weyr that had become his home and throwing a colossal fit when she didn't get her way. Had to give her points for effort, though, and she was a clever little beast. No denying that. "Yes, a good place to hole up, if the wild creatures aren't too nasty. Perhaps in the upper caverns. Not something we can look into now, though. Where else, do you think?"

A pride had been eluding them the past couple nights. A pride was too much for one wher, anyway, and a danger even if you just trailed behind and picked off stragglers one-by-one. Dmitri didn't feel they could deal with them, anyway, but his concern was more where their territory lay. The wherlings were wandering further afield, and that information might prove vital if they were to protect the little idiots from getting their throats torn out. That said, tracking them had proven difficult and dangerous. If they started from a point of logic and worked from there, though, they might be able to mark the boundaries unmolested. Here? Trees close, thick, many thorny snakes. Won't follow there, but if know way, could be fanged ones use as den. Dmitri squinted at that. Could be...

He'd noticed R'ven's approach earlier, sprawled out in his tree as dawn gave way to the pale lighting of morning, but only now did Dmitri glance at him from his branch with a wry smile. "A little later this morning, smith. Trouble waking?" They often met here, outside the forge, Dmitri poring over maps or some other form of parchment or plans. It wasn't an excuse to talk to R'ven, no, but it was no coincidence that he chose this spot to do his thinking after Dmisk had curled up with the coming of the day and the Sentinel was all shuffling off to their beds. R'ven was a logical man, but more, he was Dmitri's closest friend (of the two-legged variety), and the bluehandler was prone to miss him if he didn't see him with the coming of the dawn.

[rii]

A faint pull tugged at the corner of R'ven's smile. He palmed one of the red fruit he had been tossing up and down, shifting it to fingers before lightly throwing it up at Dmitri with a casual underhand throw. The spot had become one R'ven passed in the walk he often took with Trilaranth in the morning. The cold front that lingered on the grounds before the sun fully chased it away helped to wake him up, clear his head for the day ahead of him. The brown that had been moving along with him already veered off a few paces back to warm his wings in the rising sun.

"Something like that," The second red fruit spun at the height of it's vertical toss, falling back down to be easily caught, shuffled almost playfully between both of his hand before he paused under Dmitri's tree. The back of one shoulder pressed against the wood as the smith turned his gaze outward. Had woken up earlier than normal that morning due to someone having to leave, half remembered mutters of needing to start early on the meat pies, a parting kiss at the door, the next thing R'ven remembered was waking up where he had sat down on the couch.

"You don't normally wait," A simple statement, carrying with it his tone of curiosity. No, R'ven never intentionally avoided Dmitri by sleeping in late (apparent that he still made the effort to come by the usual places in his morning stroll). It happened at times, and on those particular days he didn't tend to spy the harper up in the branches. Not a matter to be upset over, both of them lived on conflicting time schedules. To have Dmitri still up and about made R'ven curious if he had something on the mind. "What's the topic this morning?"

He inspected his own redfruit (and if Dmitri didn't care to have a 'late night' snack he'd gladly devour that one too), dusted his fingers over the skin before taking a bite. "Nothing about another bizarre forge rescue missions I hope."

[Requiem]

He fumbled to change the stylus he'd been using to mark the map to his right hand, catching the redfruit awkwardly with his left. A flicker of a wry smile was spared for his own clumsiness as he polished the redfruit against his shirtfront, gaze flicking briefly to Trilaranth to note his postion. Habit. It didn't change the fact that Trilaranth was R'ven's and as such not a threat, any more than it changed the expanse of open ground he'd have to cover to reach the treeline if the unlikely were to happen, but it eased his nerves just to know exactly where the brown was. Dmitri's fear of dragons might not have been altogether reasonable, but it was understandable in its fashion. And worse since the night of the felines and R'ven's fool ex.

Erilena might have been deemed his friend, once, but the girl hadn't talked to him hardly at all in months. Seemed to be avoiding him, truly. Once, she'd visited the bluehandler in the infirmary with the blue torn up for her fool sake. And after the necessary polite inquiries as to Dmisk's health? She'd told him of the breakup, seeking comfort. Since then, nothing but the occasional chance meeting, and so few of those she had to be working at it. His lifedebt was paid to her, as far as he was concerned, and she could take her self-absorbed misery and stuff it somewhere dark and private. He was tired of being kept around to play nursemaid to her emotions and be taken off the shelf whenever she happened to remember he existed.

Dmitri laughed humorlessly at the question that wasn't a question. Is smart, harperlove's friend, Dementia commented. "Too observant." But he didn't answer right away, instead taking a bite from the redfruit as he studied what he could see of R'ven while the man leaned back against the tree. "No, no forge rescues. Dementia and I were discussing the pride of felines somewhere within ten leagues of here. Headcount's probably a good dozen, and they're keeping close. Those numbers at that concentration...makes it hard to get close enough to plot their territory. We'll figure it out, though. Starting with probing at reasonable spots. Pride that large will have a sizeable territory that it may take days to cover." Which didn't explain why he was still in his perch at this time of morning.

"I need to ask a favor of you." Nasty sly-woman, "Shush, Men." Smoothing his hand over the map's surface, he clicked his tongue lightly. "Elysia has drills. Still, her flits will be in the room, and likely awake, so I'd rather get everything out in one trip. Don't see how she could slip drills but..." Dmitri shrugged one shoulder. He didn't want the hysterics, the tears, the demands if she came upon him in her weyr. At least elsewhere she'd be too worried about her own image to pull much in the way of theatrics. He didn't really care if it made him look cowardly. When it came right down to it, Dmitri had no more love for drama than the average male, nor waterworks, and Elysia was female. Despite her hard image, it wouldn't be the first time she'd gone to tears on him.

Bitchface- "Didn't I tell you to shush?" Dementia crooned questioningly, but when he didn't relent right away she curled up into a ball and slitted her eyes at him. Why
shouldn't she talk about the evil usurper and revel in her victory? (She also didn't see why they had to go back to that place. Things were not so hard to get when you had a lot of those round wooden thingies, right?)

[rii]

Felines. R'ven gave the appropriate distasteful snort. Nasty business there. Never had much trouble from them when he lived in Hyphen – just stories once in a while of someone going too far out on a hunt or walk and never returning. Search parties sometimes found bodies.. other times just pieces. It was always said to be feline attacks. R'ven didn't spare much thought to them until Erilena had been ripped up by one. He had been utterly helpless, standing up on his ledge with his dragon and staring out into the dark..

Favor?

R'ven's head tilted back, peering up toward the harper – wondering how he could help with the business of felines. The curious glance turned more thoughtful, and R'ven shifted his gaze back down to the land instead. So that was the reason Dmitri decided to stay up late this morning. R'ven didn't point it out, nor did he ask for more details on the matter.

"Male flits, if I recall correctly?" Had met Elysia only a handful of times. Very brief meetings. The few encounters were enough to have him privately siding with Dementia's comments. "Two browns?"

The reasoning for his questioning revealed itself a half-second later. Bonnie, summoning by the thoughts of handsome males about, appeared from between. She fluted playfully at the harper in the trees, looping around just short of his branch – knew better than to get close to that gold salamandyr – before she perched on R'ven's shoulder, tail curling around his neck. Chirruped a greeting before sneaking a bite from his apple.

Clear enough that Dmitri wanted to be in and out of the shared weyr without drawing Elysia's immediate attention. Firelizards made good watch dogs. Sometimes. R'ven stroked Bonnie's eyeridge, earning a quiet purr in return. Perhaps his flirtatious green could distract the brown firelizards a few extra moments. Couldn't hurt to try, anyway. R'ven took another bite from his able while stepping away from the tree to give Dmitri ample room to jump down.

[Requiem]

It was...difficult. He almost felt bad, stealing away in the early daylight hours like this when he knew the likelihood of her catching him was minimal. Like it was him doing something wrong. Even leaving at all... He'd told her, once, that he wouldn't tell her what she could and couldn't do. Even after A'emi, the same thing. But, in the end, this wasn't telling her how to live her life, was it? Not really. She knew A'emi had bothered him, had even promised him...never again. Perhaps that was what hurt the worst. He knew Elysia, and he'd known even then that it would be hard, maybe even impossible for her, and yet he'd wanted to believe her enough that he didn't question it. But some part of him must have known, just the same. He went out of his way not to pay any attention to what she did in the hours he wasn't with her, even going so far as to wave off the drudges he frequently chatted up whenever her name sprung to their lips. Dementia had seen, though, and he couldn't ignore it when he knew. It was a queer, empty feeling, he'd discovered...deeper than the first time. He didn't want to know how many or who. Didn't want to know how long she'd waited after promising him. But with each night that passed, each night of her smiles and her teasing, the emptiness grew. She wasn't going to tell him. No. He couldn't keep claiming to be sick or tired; she likely was already beginning to wonder. It was either confront her, or leave.

He knew himself, though. Dmitri couldn't leave with her excuses, her pleadings, her tears dogging him. It was hard enough without her added into the mix. He didn't want to know. He didn't. Didn't want to know why he wasn't enough, why she lied to him, why she kept up the charade, why...how she could say she loved him. Forgiving her might come, but trusting her wouldn't, and he'd either be willfully blind or killing himself by steps with each new person. People he'd pass in the halls, talk to, play for. And then return to her, knowing...No. He couldn't. He'd hate her, or just despise himself for his weakness. Or maybe just die and let the Dmitri corpse live for him. He had to leave.

Starting at R'ven's voice, he blinked, then smiled a small, wry smile of appreciation. "Yes, two browns." The wherhandler gathered his maps together, rolling them and returning them to his small pack, before sliding down beside the larger man. Barely taller anymore though, curiously enough. R'ven was probably the only one he would have thought to talk to about it - certainly the only one he'd ask this favor of - but he already felt disgusting and weak. He should be angry. Bitter. Hate her. Want nothing to do with her. She'd lied to him, screwed one of those random riders that had just appeared looking like they'd crawled out of the grave, and then continued to deceive him. And who knew what else. Yet he wasn't angry. R'ven wouldn't understand. He hadn't understood from the start, not really, and Dmitri couldn't really blame him. He didn't understand.

And he didn't want R'ven to...find him just as disgusting as he found himself. The thought brought on a humorless chuckle.

"It's not a lot. I never gave up the apartment behind the waterfalls...or got around to taking any of my things from the trunks." Just one more indication that he'd known, deep down, where this was headed? How could it be her fault when he'd known all along? Empty and confused. He bit into the apple again, barely tasting it. Dmitri concentrated on the mechanical motion of chewing and swallowing. Another bite. The thoughts had been pushed back enough, by then, that he could speak again. Silence gave them too much power. "You graduate soon, don't you? I might actually show up this time," he added, with an ironic note. He had the feeling R'ven knew he'd come to the Hatching, and where the riding leathers had come from, but it was just one of those things. "Definitely if the talking heads start screaming for harpers again. Just so long as it isn't vomit duty this time," he concluded, with another chuckle.

They would be entering the halls and tunnels soon. He went back to eating his redfruit, despite the queasiness gathering in his stomach. Maybe it would help.