Post by hseru on Jun 18, 2009 17:07:36 GMT -5
That’s it, he’d finally run out of parchment and hide. It seemed that a trip down to the records room for more supplies was in order, and K’roi didn’t hide his disgust at the necessity of it. Simply put, he rather disliked the place, a dislike born during his weyrling years and grown into continued existence even now. No matter that he’d ended up there after more than one prank. Most might think with such continuous visits that he’d be used to the smell, and the dust, but noooo. The bronzerider avoided the place at all costs. Of course now he wanted something from the place, and it was just about too late to send anyone. He supposed that was what he got for working after sundown. It didn’t really matter that he thought best during those early evening hours. Scrubbing both hands through his hair, he left a semi-frizzed mess behind that required brushing to settle.
After he slipped on his boots and ran a brush through his hair, he turned an eye to Gareth, the big bronze happily snoozing on his couch. Just because His wanted to stay up didn’t mean he had to. Stew, on the other hand, was happily awake and eager to accompany hispet to wherever he was going. The thin, agile brown whipped through the air to land on K’roi’s shoulder, the Weyrleader stopping to give him an easier time of it. He’d learned early into bonding with the fragile brown that he was easy to injure. Quick, whippy thing that he was, he had no bulk to protect himself with. Funny, because Stew was practically a bottomless gorge where food was concerned. As if to emphasize this point, the brown flitter flashed Hispet an image of his favorite night-time treat and namesake –wherry stew. Chuckling, K’roi reached up to give the brown a small scratch. “Alright, we’ll get something from the kitchens on the way, hm?” Stew gave a single, light-hearted chirp of agreement before curling his tail around the bronzerider’s neck for the ride.
The trip to the kitchens was quick, and the evening staff agreeable enough. Unfortunately for Stew, his favorite treat wouldn’t be ready until the next day, so the brown settled for a few slices of roast herdbeast, gobbling them down with equal fervor. He gave a low, happy thrum of contentment after he finished, lounging his length as far across both of K’roi’s shoulders as his body would allow, curling his tail up to steady him.
Filled with the contentment radiating from his mindpet, K’roi finally made his way to the records room, peeking inside in a rather less than forward manner. Annoyed that the head archivist had obviously already headed for bed, he slipped in. At least he knew where everything was, he thought grudgingly. There must be something said for that much. Padding quietly through the hushed set of rooms, K’roi felt a sneeze coming on from the dust. Really, was it so difficult to air the place out even a little? He withheld the sneeze, but Stew didn't, and the rush of air by his ear tickled enough to have him rubbing at it. His lip curling with disgust, K’roi unlocked and opened the back room where extra parchment and hide were stored with his personal key –parchment wasn’t easy to come by so it was often kept under lock. Snagging a stack of both types that would last him a while, K’roi lugged the stacks out into the main room, piling them on a nearby table. After a second thought, he went back inside to get a refill for his container of ink powder, placing it atop his stack so he could re-lock the storage room. The head archivist wasn’t against scolding even the Weyrleader for leaving such a commodity without protection. From what, he always wanted to ask, but it seemed more prudent to stay under the man’s good graces, despite what K’roi might snicker at behind his back. Childish? Not this bronzerider. Merely a little vindictive of past hurts.
After he slipped on his boots and ran a brush through his hair, he turned an eye to Gareth, the big bronze happily snoozing on his couch. Just because His wanted to stay up didn’t mean he had to. Stew, on the other hand, was happily awake and eager to accompany hispet to wherever he was going. The thin, agile brown whipped through the air to land on K’roi’s shoulder, the Weyrleader stopping to give him an easier time of it. He’d learned early into bonding with the fragile brown that he was easy to injure. Quick, whippy thing that he was, he had no bulk to protect himself with. Funny, because Stew was practically a bottomless gorge where food was concerned. As if to emphasize this point, the brown flitter flashed Hispet an image of his favorite night-time treat and namesake –wherry stew. Chuckling, K’roi reached up to give the brown a small scratch. “Alright, we’ll get something from the kitchens on the way, hm?” Stew gave a single, light-hearted chirp of agreement before curling his tail around the bronzerider’s neck for the ride.
The trip to the kitchens was quick, and the evening staff agreeable enough. Unfortunately for Stew, his favorite treat wouldn’t be ready until the next day, so the brown settled for a few slices of roast herdbeast, gobbling them down with equal fervor. He gave a low, happy thrum of contentment after he finished, lounging his length as far across both of K’roi’s shoulders as his body would allow, curling his tail up to steady him.
Filled with the contentment radiating from his mindpet, K’roi finally made his way to the records room, peeking inside in a rather less than forward manner. Annoyed that the head archivist had obviously already headed for bed, he slipped in. At least he knew where everything was, he thought grudgingly. There must be something said for that much. Padding quietly through the hushed set of rooms, K’roi felt a sneeze coming on from the dust. Really, was it so difficult to air the place out even a little? He withheld the sneeze, but Stew didn't, and the rush of air by his ear tickled enough to have him rubbing at it. His lip curling with disgust, K’roi unlocked and opened the back room where extra parchment and hide were stored with his personal key –parchment wasn’t easy to come by so it was often kept under lock. Snagging a stack of both types that would last him a while, K’roi lugged the stacks out into the main room, piling them on a nearby table. After a second thought, he went back inside to get a refill for his container of ink powder, placing it atop his stack so he could re-lock the storage room. The head archivist wasn’t against scolding even the Weyrleader for leaving such a commodity without protection. From what, he always wanted to ask, but it seemed more prudent to stay under the man’s good graces, despite what K’roi might snicker at behind his back. Childish? Not this bronzerider. Merely a little vindictive of past hurts.
