Curse of the Living (open)

[rii]

"Sounds good to me."

Rulven gave a faint nod, nothing more to say on the subject of food. It was just a little obvious that his day revolved around mealtimes. The phrase of 'the way into a man's heart is through his stomach' rang painfully true with this smith. He would admit he held a particular fondness for those that actually cooked and shared food with him. "Company is always appreciated, especially if they think I'm good company."

He winked, giving Dorava a pleasant smile. It could be taken as flirting, but really Rulven didn't put that much thought into his behavior. Truth be told, he didn't put much thought into anything, just decided on a course of action and did it. Other things were just habitual, such as his comfortably friendly demeanor with a female. The laughter he received was a good sign, so the smith felt no qualms with joking further. "Really, your green here.. I could just make a sling for her to snooze in and just haul her around all day. At least then she wouldn't run the risk of falling off a flying dragon's head." Amazing that the firelizard had not broken any bones from it's earlier graceless plop to the ground.

Snorting with amusement, Rulven gave her a scrutinizing look over. "You'll have to eat a lot more before trying to call yourself pot-bellied." The smith gave a sagely nod, not being able to hide his smile. "You look almost content as your firelizard here." He gave the green a last pet, assuming her lack of movement to mean she had gone back to sleep. "Am I going to have to tuck you into bed as well?"

A pause, then Rulven's eyes widened slightly and visibly winced at his own words. "I didn't mean that–well, you know–just teasing about the babysitting things."

[dragon]

Dorava laughed again, wrapping her free arm around her own middle to keep it from hurting. Wow, had it really been so long since she'd laughed? Maybe it was just the trauma the sickness had put her insides through, who knew? She wasn't about to go delving around in there to see what was going on. She was still alive, and that was all there was to it. "You are good company, R ... uh. Okay, this is embarrassing. What was your name again?" She asked, blushing slightly, before finishing her thought. "Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise. You're a good person."

"Oh, really? You sure she won't get in your way or anything?" Dorava asked, tickled at the idea. She often just let Mandyr sleep wherever she wanted to. Which usually was on Aonith. Which the green dragon seemed perfectly fine with, otherwise she wouldn't allow it. Of course, this only worked when Aonith wasn't doing any real, true flying. When they went on drills, or after thread, naturally Mandyr couldn't sleep on the green. Just didn't happen. At those times she usually piled up tucked firmly into the side of Dorava's pillow. But before she could make any more wisecracks about her silly slightly-comatose flitter, she burst into more giggles at his comment.

"I am too! See?" She patted her stomach, as if it was as obviously huge as Mandyr's was. "I am ..." she trailed off suddenly, and just looked at him in silence for a moment. "Tuck me in?" She asked, as if that was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard uttered aloud. But then she grinned, plainly not offended. "If you want, you can..." his sudden backpeddaling and attempted damage control only had her giggling again.

[rii]

"Rulven," He readily supplied, slightly amused to see the blushing color Dorava's paled features. Yes, she could do with a day out sunning on the beach. Amazing how swiftly an illness could assault a person's once healthy exterior. Rulven gave a small nod to her words. He didn't need convincing he was a good person, he knew this but it seemed his friendly demeanor and and inclination toward pacifism didn't mix well with most of the other occupants of the Weyr. Living untouched by the war did that to a person.

He shook his head at her question. "It'd be like carrying around a sack of rocks if she really sleeps as much as you say. Although I warn you, I stop at the kitchens often enough, your paperweight may come back a good few pounds heavier the longer I watch her." And he didn't think he'd really be watching her; just had been a joke to make Dorava laugh (which he seemed to be doing a good job at!) But if the greenrider actually took him up on the jesting offer, the smith would be unable to refuse.

Flushing himself, though not as obviously–Rulven was southern born and bred, his perma-tan easily hid any small embarrassing rushes of blood to the face. That didn't mean the smith didn't flail just the tiniest bit at the awkwardness of the subject. "I was just–Mandyr here, I fed her and now lulled her back to sleep and she was the paperweight and you were calling yourself, er.. oh bother." What on Pern? Rulven peered uncertainly at Dorava and her response. If he wanted he could, could what, tuck her into bed? Rulven was a simple being, but he wasn't naive enough to not see how the words could be taken in a perverse direction.

Smiling sheepishly, Rulven tried for a chuckle to pretend his discomfort had passed. He didn't speak up on it, but he figured Dorava had someone, a weyrmate, that would gladly tuck her into bed and take care of her. She had been with child at some point, that meant she was with someone, right? Utterly holdbred in mind was he. But if she did have someone, where was that person to comfort and feed her.. a curious thought. S'rei had been there, and Dorava had seemed more familiar and welcoming of his presence.. Rulven's expression sobered for the moment.

"I'll walk with you back to you Weyr," Rulven quietly offered while scooping up the comatose green firelizard and tucked her into the crook of one arm while he stood from the table. "Not to tuck you in," He shot in a quick tease. "You're probably tired.. everyone else that gets out from the infirmary usually go back to their own beds to get some real sleep."

[dragon]

Rulven. Right. How had she forgotten that? It was a nice name. Fit him well. Dorava smiled briefly in appreciation. Not only had he reminded her, he hadn't gotten upset or angry that she'd forgotten it already. Despite actively talking to him. It was still horrendously embarrassing, though. Apparently her faculties weren't quite up to par, yet ... maybe S'rei had been right. She wasn't ready to go back to active duty. A sobering thought, that.

Her amused expression rebounded though as he started talking about Mandyr again. "Oh, well ... we don't need that. She gets much heavier and Aonith won't be able to wear her like a hat!" A joke, of course. No flitter, no matter how fat, would be able to pin any dragon's head to the ground by sheer weight alone. Not even a green dragon. But the idea was still funny. At least - to Dorava it was. Which probably only added to the idea that she wasn't exactly operating on all cylinders just yet.

Though his blush wasn't obvious enough to be noted, his verbal flailing was. And it only made Dorava giggle all over again. "Oh, I know. I know. I was being factitious, you know. I know I'm not a paperweight ... or the one you were referring too." Her brows crawled up her forehead as he scooped up Mandyr and stood up. "Oh?" She asked, looking up at him. "Why not? I don't bite. And honestly ... I've done plenty of sleeping of late, in my opinion. The last thing I want to do is sleep." She protested. But even so, she stood up, too, snatching up what was left of the roll she'd been picking apart.

"Oh, I get it." She teased, obviously picking on him again. "You just want to ride Aonith again, huh?" She giggled. "Dontcha?"

[rii]

Again Rulven rubbed the back of his head, smiling sheepishly down at Dorava. "I don't mean to offend. Made an assumption on my part that you're probably tired. Besides, I figured I took up enough of your time. I do still have to finish helping out in the infirmary, and the other chores the candidate master assigned us."

Not that he minded her company, not at all, Rulven could sit and chat until the sun went down. She made for fine company, not picking on him for being gentle in nature. People could be mean all they wanted, Rulven could just as well do the same, but he firmly believed that people had to learn to be nice. They weren't born that way. Turn the other cheek, that was a good one as well. Rulven did not like getting angry.

Blinking at Dorava, then the direction of the landing, "Is it.. odd I forget people fly to get where they need to go? I really thought we could just walk and talk." Which wouldn't be much if they went on dragonback. Rulven also didn't want to insult Aonith by voicing the fact he preferred to keep his feet on the ground. It might change if it was his own dragon, but the smith felt odd flying with someone else on a dragon he didn't really know. Almost like it was an intrusion of privacy.

"It's up to you though," He shifted his hazel eyes down to the limp green flitter. "And mandyr I suppose."

[dragon]

Dorava shook her head. "Naw. I'm not offended. Though I admit; I didn't realize you were so busy! I apologize if I kept you longer than you had time for..." she trailed off for a moment. "You have a lot to do, huh? What are you supposed to be doing now?" Dorava asked, with genuine interest. "There haven't been that many new deaths in the infirmary." At least - she sure hoped not! Last she'd checked, the deathrate had dropped off significantly. Almost like the disease had run its course and was now moving on to richer feeding grounds. Or something equally perverse.

At his next question, Dorava opened and closed her mouth a few times, not sure exactly what to say initially due to being sideblinded by the comment. "Er." She finally managed, scratching at her ear. "I don't know. I ... I've been Riding a long time ... it's second nature to me, I guess. But a walk sounds marvelous. It does ... maybe I need a bit of exercise to get me going again..." she gradually lost volume as she talked, almost as if more speaking thoughts to herself rather than to Rulven. Truth be known, it was just her being lost in thought and forgetting to speak up when she talked. Off on a tangent again her mind flew, thinking things and possibly contemplating things that really ought not be contemplated.

But she perked up again after just a moment. "Well, come on then. It's quite a walk, lots of stairs, all that. I kinda ... my weyr is at the top of the cliff." She apologized. "But the view from there is awesome, you should see it. You can see the whole canyon from up there. It's beautiful - especially at dawn, dusk, and when it drizzles. Sometimes there are rainbows." Dorava described, cheerfully before striking out from the main hall. Once outside, she waited for him to catch up before continuing on, holding the door since he had his hands full with her apparently comatose, fat little pet. "Aonith will meet us there." She added, as the green dragon turned, and launched into the air with a few quick beats of her wings.

"It's been a long time since I walked anywhere..." Dorava admitted, sounding somewhat embarrassed about that little fact.

[rii]

"Busy today at least. One of the healers wanted me to move some things – besides bodies. I had been waiting for them to get back when I saw you.." Rulven glanced side long at Dorava, wondering if she was accusing him of trying to sneak away from her company. "I still have to collect wood for the kitchens. I've done it often enough as a favor that the drudges expect me to do it every day." A mild shrug, he didn't mind being useful. Better than being a useless lump of muscle. Rulven was actually beginning to wonder if he was losing his bulk due to lack of grueling activites. "I still have general weyr duty to attend for the Candidatemaster and I have lessons later."

Rulven nodded and lead the way to the door–only to hold it open for her, and in turn let her take the lead since he didn't know where her Weyr was located; besides on the top of the cliff face. The smith did well to match her set pace instead of spurring them on faster with his own long stride. The green flitter sprawled over one arm was calmly stroked as they walked.

"It does sound like a nice view. It's really.. nice here." The slight pause to his words may have given away that he did not fully agree with the statement. Holdbred lifestyle and Weyrlifestyles did not mix for a reason. The views there were beautiful, but a few of the others things would never sit well with Rulven. It was true, he was homesick.

"What happens if I don't impress?"

[dragon]

Dorava listened as Rulven outlined what he had yet to do today, and was duly impressed. "My, you keep a full schedule." She commented, simply. "Do you ever get tired?" He was only a Candidate, after all. It wasn't like he was a drudge who had a Weyr to maintain, or a rider, who had a huge honking dragon to maintain. Candidates usually weren't worked that hard. "Does the Candidate Master know you're doing all that?"

She smiled at him for holding the door for her, and then almost automatically stepped out to lead the way. It was only logical, after all. She snorted, though, and shook her head at his comment. "There I have to disagree. It is a nice view, but that doesn't make the place nice. Granted, this is arguably the best Weyr on the planet ... but ..." She just shook her head and sighed. "It's insane. More insane than it has to be." Dorava didn't dwell on the topic long, though, distracted (thankfully) by his question.

"If you don't impress? Well, first tip, is don't think that. Thoughts like that are usually a pretty good turn off for a newly hatched dragon. This is, of course, if you are wanting a dragon..." She amended, as it occurred to her that maybe not all Candidates wanted to be dragonriders. It certainly hadn't been the case in the north - and she wasn't sure how many people in the South were kidnapped to stand. "Simple, I guess. Life goes on, you know. You will keep breathing and getting hungry even when you age out." She offered a token smile at the attempted stab at humor. "You'll more than likely go back to whatever craft you started out doing, unless you don't want to. It's an open road, really. From that point you can really go anywhere you want. Stay, leave, do your old craft, take on a new one... become a teacher of some sort." She shrugged. "Rukbat rises in the morning, sets in the evening. That's what happens if you don't impress. Go get married, have kids, the like."

Her view of the world was probably over simplified compared to most. But it was that simple, cot-hold beast-herder logical view of the world that had allowed her to stay sane through all those Turns at Benden, and ultimately, get away from there. Life ... went on. And it always would.

[rii]

"I think that is part of the reason, to tire myself so it's easier to sleep at night." He spared a brief smile, not wanting to launch off into an explanation that he didn't like to lounge about like many of the other residents of the Weyr. There was always a bit of work to be done, and sure enough Rulven picked up the chores of others either because they played hooky or stood around washing the same dish for hours on end. The smith gave a shake of head at her following question. Was he suppose to tell Emoyan he kept himself busy?

Rulven glanced up at the sky as they walked out into the open air. He rose a single brow at her comment of the Weyr being described as insane. It was all more than a little unorthodox but he wouldn't say crazy. Yet let the question slide since she went on with his question of impression. "I'll keep that in mind."

A simple response, as Rulven saw no reason in worrying Dorava with the fact that he meant that in a literal sense. If he didn't impress he could go back to his craft. Maybe move to a small cothold in the east. There he wouldn't be close enough to Hyphen, but he'd be far enough away from the Weyr. Rulven wasn't sure if he wanted a dragon, at all. He chuckled in good humor at her comment. "True. I'll keep being hungry.."

As they turned up the stairs that would lead them along the working of pathways that lead between the tiers of weyrs, Rulven turned his gaze to admire the river sparking under the sun's rays. It was a nice view the higher up they went. He gave a soft snort at her last words. "The Weyr doesn't strick me as being very family orientated."

[dragon]

Dorava walked up the stairs in silence for a time, as she really didn't have much to comment on the few sparse comments he'd offered. Partly because she didn't have anything to say, and partly because she was badly out of shape from her sickness. Putting one foot in front of the other and levering herself up to the next step was proving to be quite the endeavor. She'd barely made it to the first level of weyrs when she started wondering if she was even going to make it to the top. She hadn't even bothered to notice before how many levels of weyrs there were, so she didn't even know how far up she was yet. My, she took a lot of things for granted and paid little attention to stuff around her. Maybe she should change that.

And what in Faranth's name had given her the notion she could climb all these stairs in the first place? Puffing, she wondered what it was even as she concentrated on not showing how hard it was to simply get to the next step. She was used to being a rather strong woman, and this was just ... well ... miserable. How could something as intangible as a sickness do this to people anyway? She glanced at Rulven, and remembered why she was doing it. She was such an idiot. Trying to climb innumberable steps, all for the companionship of a rather good-looking lad she had only just met. Just what exactly was wrong with her? She had to be addled. Granted, company was nice, but still. The illness had done more than rob her of her strength ... it'd robbed her of her senses too apparently! Insanity.

Finally, she had to stop and take a breather on the steps, leaning a shoulder on the wall for support. "It's not really oriented toward family ... at least not on the Rider end of it. The Weyrfolk have plenty of families. They have time to. When you're a Rider, pretty much your dragon is your family. Your spouse, your child, all wrapped up in one." She grinned at him briefly. "You could say that Riders are married to the job." She waved a hand limply at the Weyr in general.

"There's the creche. Takes care of most kids when their folks - whoever they are - can't look after them." She offered.