Post by Requiem on Jun 20, 2010 7:58:48 GMT -5
It had taken Lust literally sitting on Fury to get her to stop spazzing enough at every little shadow that moved near Kalierre to go to sleep. By that time the bronze had been so exhausted with attempting to keep up with the insane little baby who was determined to get stepped on and squished before she even reached maturation that he had fallen asleep, too. Kalierre only stopped by her weyr long enough to deposit the entangled mass of salamandyrs attached to her mind and put Rel to bed before heading back down to the communal baths. Technically, she and K'von had a private bath, and technically, it probably would have been better not to leave Rel alone. But Phremath was more than a good babysitter, doting on the child of Baoth's, and Kalierre didn't want to risk Fury awakening. The less people around to disturb her, the better; Kalierre hadn't been this mentally tired since she was a weyrling, juggling that and a floundering infirmary pretty much singlehandedly. (R'wign was ever so much more useful now than he'd been back then.) Fury was definitely something of an emotional drain.
It was with delight at the peacefulness of only a wakeful Phremath in her mind that Kalierre entered the baths, already working her braid free with deft surgeon's fingers. Her dark eyes swept over the pools, shrugging out of the short-waisted coat she'd taken to wearing ever since the weather turned unusually cold for Selenitas. The simple, white cotton shirt underneath was unlaced one-handed, the woman limping across the room before sitting down on a bench and unlacing her tall boots. She wriggled her toes with a little sigh of relief, then set about stripping the rest of the way, folding her clothing neatly. Kalierre put it and her cane in place of the scouring sand on the shelves, then limped awkwardly - and painfully - without the aid of her cane to the pool. She was only too happy to half-immerse herself in the warm water, leaving the bag of scouring sand at her elbow.
The dragonhealer stretched out as far as she could, leaning back against the side of the pool. Usually only the slashes across her face were visible, but now the scars left by the feline on her abdomen, down one arm and along her hip were revealed. As well as the older ones marking her back and wrist from the weyrling massacre about six turns ago now. It was always sobering, to think that she and Phremath were the last of that weyrling class. Sobering, and it made her feel...old. Not so far off thirty as all that, anymore. She'd be twenty-nine in half a turn, anyway, and that was close enough to start feeling like some things should be left to the younger ones. Over twenty turns since she'd walked into Healer Hall. Yes, definitely feeling a touch...old.
It wasn't an active discontent, though. In fact, there was little but acceptance as she lounged in the warm pool, Phremath humming softly - and a touch off-key - in her head. The green was currently making a pattern of the pretty stones various males had gifted her, attempting to make a beautiful rainbow dragon. She was watching Rel closely enough to know if Kalierre was needed, but apart from that the small green with her stunted wings was happily amusing herself. The dragonhealer couldn't help but smile slightly at the innocent actions of her first and most beloved mindmate. (Lust would cause the most problems if lost to her, but Phremath was her joy, her always-child who never failed to bring joy. There was no replacement for her.)
What do you think All-Color dragons would be if they existed? Male or female? Maybe both. Maybe neither. But if you had to choose? Probably female. Why, do you think? Because then the golds would have to admit they're prettier - even though most of the greens, including my Phre, are much prettier - than them, and they'd never tolerate more attractive males. Ah.
It was with delight at the peacefulness of only a wakeful Phremath in her mind that Kalierre entered the baths, already working her braid free with deft surgeon's fingers. Her dark eyes swept over the pools, shrugging out of the short-waisted coat she'd taken to wearing ever since the weather turned unusually cold for Selenitas. The simple, white cotton shirt underneath was unlaced one-handed, the woman limping across the room before sitting down on a bench and unlacing her tall boots. She wriggled her toes with a little sigh of relief, then set about stripping the rest of the way, folding her clothing neatly. Kalierre put it and her cane in place of the scouring sand on the shelves, then limped awkwardly - and painfully - without the aid of her cane to the pool. She was only too happy to half-immerse herself in the warm water, leaving the bag of scouring sand at her elbow.
The dragonhealer stretched out as far as she could, leaning back against the side of the pool. Usually only the slashes across her face were visible, but now the scars left by the feline on her abdomen, down one arm and along her hip were revealed. As well as the older ones marking her back and wrist from the weyrling massacre about six turns ago now. It was always sobering, to think that she and Phremath were the last of that weyrling class. Sobering, and it made her feel...old. Not so far off thirty as all that, anymore. She'd be twenty-nine in half a turn, anyway, and that was close enough to start feeling like some things should be left to the younger ones. Over twenty turns since she'd walked into Healer Hall. Yes, definitely feeling a touch...old.
It wasn't an active discontent, though. In fact, there was little but acceptance as she lounged in the warm pool, Phremath humming softly - and a touch off-key - in her head. The green was currently making a pattern of the pretty stones various males had gifted her, attempting to make a beautiful rainbow dragon. She was watching Rel closely enough to know if Kalierre was needed, but apart from that the small green with her stunted wings was happily amusing herself. The dragonhealer couldn't help but smile slightly at the innocent actions of her first and most beloved mindmate. (Lust would cause the most problems if lost to her, but Phremath was her joy, her always-child who never failed to bring joy. There was no replacement for her.)
What do you think All-Color dragons would be if they existed? Male or female? Maybe both. Maybe neither. But if you had to choose? Probably female. Why, do you think? Because then the golds would have to admit they're prettier - even though most of the greens, including my Phre, are much prettier - than them, and they'd never tolerate more attractive males. Ah.
