Post by glamourie on Dec 8, 2008 19:35:00 GMT -5
“YOU LITTLE MENACE!”
Ka’rys’s voice was unmistakable. Even those who didn’t know him would have recognized the recently-demoted bronze rider’s dulcet tones, which resounded off the walls in a magnificent echo. It was followed by the sound of bare feet and claws smacking against stone, a steady clatter loud enough to wake the dead. Never in moderation, trust Ka’rys to create a cacophony in the wee hours of the morning when most of the Weyr was asleep and those who were awake were primarily in the dining hall eating dinner. The Rider’s Weyrs was not the ideal place to be so noisy at such hours, but if Ka’rys cared, he gave no indication from the quick pace in which he was moving. He resembled little more than a pale, dark-haired streak with a suspiciously damp towel wound around his waist. He’d just gotten out of the bathing pool in his Weyr, and hadn’t even had time to dress.
The menace of which he spoke? Showoff, K’lir’s bronze salamandyr. Renowned amidst his circle for his thieving and impressive array of insulting language, there was little doubt to the fact that ‘menace’ truly did fit Showoff in terms of description. The bronze salamandyr was virtually fearless, and vindictive beyond words. Earning his temper meant a life-long vendetta that he had no problems acting on whenever the feeling struck him. Ka’rys found out first hand just how temperamental he could be. The bronze rider made the mistake of stepping on Showoff’s tail over a turn before hand, and Showoff remembered with loathing that he’d been unrepentant. Unpleasant feelings were something he had no trouble keeping track of. The mind’s memory to recall anything negative was impressive.
The little bronze ran across the floor with a series of jumps and twists that would’ve been dashing, if not for the almost panicked glances he spared backwards. Obstacles were no match for him, for he leapt over rocks and crevices with little effort. He was in a hurry toward the stairs. If he could make it out before the wicked ugly caught him, he’d be home free. In the grass he was nearly impossible to catch, slithering quickly under rocks and into crevices. The interior of the Rider Weyrs was detrimental to him simply because he could be easily cornered and the two legged loud-mouth had the patience of a tunnel snake. But he would persevere. He was Showoff, the best bronze on all of Pern, and he would not be shown up by an ugly two-legged winged ugly rider. No he would not.
And exactly why was Ka’rys chasing Showoff? The answer was simple: The salamandyr had a brass key clasped in his mouth, his grasp possessive. The key was to the trunks that Ka’rys kept all of his records locked up in, and Showoff stole it while he was bathing. Little else would have merited the bronze rider chasing him all over Pern. As it was, they’d run halfway through the canyon, and despite being physically fit, Ka’rys was beginning to tire. Showoff had the advantage of being able to leap and glide on his little wings for a few feet, giving himself short breaks. Ka’rys had no such luck. His dark brown hair was slicked back with sweat from all the running, and his anger was prominent on his face. The little nuisance was so going to pay.
“Showoff, stop this INSTANT!” Rapid chittering was the only response Ka’rys’s words received, though Showoff by no means moved to stop. The stairs were coming into his view and the salamandyr dashed toward them quickly. “You little monster!”
Winged stupid nono is mine now go’way! the salamandyr proclaimed as he threw himself up onto the first stair. Almost free!
Ka’rys’s voice was unmistakable. Even those who didn’t know him would have recognized the recently-demoted bronze rider’s dulcet tones, which resounded off the walls in a magnificent echo. It was followed by the sound of bare feet and claws smacking against stone, a steady clatter loud enough to wake the dead. Never in moderation, trust Ka’rys to create a cacophony in the wee hours of the morning when most of the Weyr was asleep and those who were awake were primarily in the dining hall eating dinner. The Rider’s Weyrs was not the ideal place to be so noisy at such hours, but if Ka’rys cared, he gave no indication from the quick pace in which he was moving. He resembled little more than a pale, dark-haired streak with a suspiciously damp towel wound around his waist. He’d just gotten out of the bathing pool in his Weyr, and hadn’t even had time to dress.
The menace of which he spoke? Showoff, K’lir’s bronze salamandyr. Renowned amidst his circle for his thieving and impressive array of insulting language, there was little doubt to the fact that ‘menace’ truly did fit Showoff in terms of description. The bronze salamandyr was virtually fearless, and vindictive beyond words. Earning his temper meant a life-long vendetta that he had no problems acting on whenever the feeling struck him. Ka’rys found out first hand just how temperamental he could be. The bronze rider made the mistake of stepping on Showoff’s tail over a turn before hand, and Showoff remembered with loathing that he’d been unrepentant. Unpleasant feelings were something he had no trouble keeping track of. The mind’s memory to recall anything negative was impressive.
The little bronze ran across the floor with a series of jumps and twists that would’ve been dashing, if not for the almost panicked glances he spared backwards. Obstacles were no match for him, for he leapt over rocks and crevices with little effort. He was in a hurry toward the stairs. If he could make it out before the wicked ugly caught him, he’d be home free. In the grass he was nearly impossible to catch, slithering quickly under rocks and into crevices. The interior of the Rider Weyrs was detrimental to him simply because he could be easily cornered and the two legged loud-mouth had the patience of a tunnel snake. But he would persevere. He was Showoff, the best bronze on all of Pern, and he would not be shown up by an ugly two-legged winged ugly rider. No he would not.
And exactly why was Ka’rys chasing Showoff? The answer was simple: The salamandyr had a brass key clasped in his mouth, his grasp possessive. The key was to the trunks that Ka’rys kept all of his records locked up in, and Showoff stole it while he was bathing. Little else would have merited the bronze rider chasing him all over Pern. As it was, they’d run halfway through the canyon, and despite being physically fit, Ka’rys was beginning to tire. Showoff had the advantage of being able to leap and glide on his little wings for a few feet, giving himself short breaks. Ka’rys had no such luck. His dark brown hair was slicked back with sweat from all the running, and his anger was prominent on his face. The little nuisance was so going to pay.
“Showoff, stop this INSTANT!” Rapid chittering was the only response Ka’rys’s words received, though Showoff by no means moved to stop. The stairs were coming into his view and the salamandyr dashed toward them quickly. “You little monster!”
Winged stupid nono is mine now go’way! the salamandyr proclaimed as he threw himself up onto the first stair. Almost free!
