Only to awake in a garden divine (Row)

[Avu]

“Once you’re done laughing.”

His words were pleasant enough, even if for once the greenrider looked like an actual threat (most days he just looked halfway between civilized and hobo—it had taken A’emi a really long time to convince himself that grooming was worth it again). The flash of his smile at Kyrahth was sharp, almost angry; Kyrahth was sarcastic a lot but she didn’t usually laugh at him, and he was less than thrilled about it—Kyrahth’s amusement was typically malicious, after all, and he knew that better than anybody. In any case, he’d just shaved and trimmed the longer curls from his hair, and it was finally cool enough for him to wear the clothing he’d brought South with him, so for once everything matched decently: Dark leather jacket, navy pants, boots; decidedly more noticeable were the bow slung over one shoulder and the quiver of arrows strapped across his chest, the belt knife fastened casually low on one hip.

If Kyrahth had been laughing at his appearance he probably would’ve thrown a fit.

As it was, he was still very close; the deadly calmness was clue enough to that.

You. Teaching. The green’s eyes were blue with amusement, her mouth open in a jagged mimicry of an open-mouthed smile. That’s ridiculous. Ismaroth’s must be delusional. Kierjaarth’s must be delusional. You can’t teach; you’re only going to get upset at them for being inept.

Which was true, but he didn’t appreciate Kyrahth calling him out on it. A’emi smiled at her coldly, and then slowly turned away from Kyrahth. At least she’d gotten them all the way to a clearing not far from the Weyr before she decided to be a bitch—A’emi half-wished he could’ve lugged K’thay or T’san along, but they had drills and he wasn’t willing to wait for them to be done, but if they’d been there at least Castidenloth or Dsoleth could’ve distracted Kyrahth. (He didn’t think M’kai had Candidate Lessons but M’kai was a point of frustration right now, and Kyrahth was already frustrating enough without a…PMS-y bluerider…being added to that.)

He settled himself halfway up a tree—he seemed to spend a lot of time in trees lately, somehow—and looped his leg around the branch, hooking his ankle around it to keep his balance. Kyrahth rumbled restlessly below him, the green curling around the base of the tree like a serpent; A’emi ignored her as he settled his bow against one arm and reached for an arrow, notched it, smoothing a thumb affectionately against the curve of the wooden bow as he scanned his surroundings for a decent target. “We could do Capture the Flag,” he noted, quietly, trusting that Kyrahth was attuned enough to him to hear him anyway, mentally if not vocally. “Split ‘em in two teams, give ‘em a goal, send ‘em into the jungle and I could try and pick ‘em off from above. Paint arrows doable? Two paces left of that big rock under the tree.”

Aim on the inhale, release on the exhale.

Kyrahth tilted her head to look. That’s three and one back. Try again. A pause, and she added, You should warm up first. You’re going to miss again if you don’t. There’s someone coming. Flat, as neutral as ever but for the sudden tension and curve of her spine as she wound herself around the tree, near possessive, eyes narrowing on the source of movement within the bushes.

“Warm up,” A’emi answered, notching another arrow, “Is not always going to be an option. Three above.” Louder, “Fore,” because the least he could do if he was shooting at someone was to give them proper warning—he trusted that Kyrahth could tell the difference between a human and a feline moving around—and this time the arrow found its mark buried in a tree trunk, a few feet above the projected movement.

Two and a half. You’re overcompensating.

[Rowana]

It was always good to get to know your surroundings and Farryl had always enjoyed walks. The jungle was hardly the safest place for a walk, but she wasn't going far and Peppeth was bouncing along for the ride. It was the one of the reasons for not venturing too far. Small as she was, Peppeth was still a dragon and too big for jungle diving. She's managed to leave Kurro and Faii at home, but Hobbs was tagging along, enjoying the leafy branches for his games. Farryl had brought her short bow, but she doubted she would get much practice with the noise Peppeth was making behind her.

Oh, look! Peppeth's eyes shone with delight. We have company! Farryl turned and through a break in the trees, she spotted A'emi with his bow. He was one she didn't know very well at all, but they were all friends now, at least that was the idea. Shrugging, she wandered closer. She almost didn't see Kyrahth until she was coming up right behind the man, but she did catch the last shot. He was pretty good, she had to admit. Farryl knew she couldn't do better, especially as out of practice as she was. Maybe he'd be up for a practice partner.

Hello, green sister! Peppeth bounced over to Kyrahth with a happy greeting, while Farryl waved at A'emi. "Good shot," she nodded appreciatively. Of course, she didn't know what he'd been aiming at, but it was a solid shot none the less. "Mind some company? I'm Farryl, if you don't remember me." He probably didn't, since she couldn't recall ever spending much time with him even before the Wastelanders.

[Avu]

The look A’emi gave Farryl was completely and utterly bemused; why there was a girl wandering the jungle was beyond him, and her apparent friendliness was even more bewildering. Was she just…okay with being shot at? (Admittedly he’d aimed his shot deliberately high, since he wasn’t suffering the delusion that maybe people enjoyed arrows protruding from their foreheads any more than the Council was likely to be okay with it, friends in high places or not, but still.) Instead of answering her introduction, his gaze went immediately to Peppeth as he settled the bow comfortably into his lap, and A’emi watched her with blank fascination—clearly she hadn’t heard of Kyrahth before, or else there’d be none of this bouncing around.

“You might want to keep her away,” he said softly. The comment was decidedly neutral, which, the minute it came out, A’emi was half-surprised by; Farryl was pretty. He should be flirting. Except there…was really no desire to flirt at all, and he couldn’t even blame the wave of fierce distaste from Kyrahth for that; it wasn’t like he hadn’t regularly ignored her before in order to get laid. A’emi blinked, gaze back to Farryl—what happened to Peppeth was none of his business now, with his warning issued and Kyrahth no doubt capable of giving her own—and flashed her a determinedly bright smile. “A’emi. It’s wonderful to meet you, Farryl.”

You’re such an awful liar, Kyrahth commented, disgruntled. True to form, the green’s lips curled in a snarl, teeth bared when Peppeth approached, a growl rumbling in her throat. Ill-tempered oranges shaded her gaze. She made no verbal answer—the physical was more than enough, after all—and actually snapped at Peppeth when the green came too near, coiling possessively around the tree. She barely even put up with the males she knew (and she didn’t with any greens at all, except maybe Onyth by necessity of being on the same wing), and she certainly wasn’t interested in this overly-happy little female. The click of her teeth—easily avoided—was followed by her tail flicking towards Peppeth defensively. Personal space.

(It didn’t ever occur to Kyrahth that most people’s personal space did not extend nearly as far as hers did. They got near her, they risked her ire. Nobody except A’emi had ever pointed it out to her anyway, and he hardly counted, especially since he’d mostly just been terribly amused.)

A’emi flicked a glance at Peppeth and Kyrahth, decidedly unapologetic, and then quirked a wry smile at Farryl. “You’re welcome to stick around if you still want,” he added. “Pull up a tree or something.” He waved a hand absently, and then reached back to pick out another arrow from the quiver, notching it onto the bow. “Target in mind?”

[Rowana]

Farryl glanced over at Peppeth, mentally sighing. Just their luck to meet a green who didn't like to make friends. They did exist, for all Peppeth would deny the concept. Peppeth, I think she wants to be left alone. Peppeth wilted, both at the words and Kyrahth's reaction. Oh. She back away and hide behind another tree much farther away. Sorry. That was so sad, the small green thought. Who would ever want to be alone? It was just so...lonely.

Farryl sighed again, this time out loud. She probably wouldn't stay too long if Peppeth was going to be miserable. "Just a bit," she answered A'emi. She readied her bow and sighted for a minute. "How about that knot in the big tree?" She pointed to a spot about a hundred feet away. Her arrow went straight enough and hit the tree, but missed the mark by about six inches. Farryl frown and wrinkled her nose. "I need more practice," she admitted.

[Avu]

Kyrahth’s muzzle wrinkled into a last faint snarl at Peppeth’s backtracking, the green’s eyes slitting defiantly at the other female, but she made no further threats. Neither did she attempt to console Peppeth, though; if she wanted to be butt-hurt and mopey that wasn’t any of Kyrahth’s problem, and if she had such a strong reaction to someone who was essentially a stranger to her being deliberately snotty then Kyrahth didn’t expect to get along very much with her even if she tried. However, with the green’s retreat, actual recognition dawned and Kyrahth rolled her eyes mentally, reaching out to brush against A’emi’s mind, Speaking of your inability to teach…this one’s one of Kierjaarth’s.

Oh.

Oh.

That changed things.

A’emi blinked at Farryl, watching her intently as she picked her target, his gaze following the path of her arrow and its eventual quivering resting spot before he uncurled from his position in the tree and dropped to the ground. Kyrahth growled softly in her throat in response to the motion—downright sulky, rather than menacing—and A’emi ignored her to tilt his head to look at the arrow from Farryl’s level. “No, that was good,” he answered, honestly enough, because it was; he wasn’t ever spot-on until he’d warmed up considerably, even if that time was dwindling slowly. “Kyrahth says you’re one of Mi’rah’s.”

Half a question, even if he didn’t tack the question mark on the end. He should probably recognize her by now, but A’emi was only infrequently an attendant at Mi’rah’s drills, and even then he tended to keep a distance from the wingriders. His wing was Legatus, even if Wingthird was a nice shiny title. A’emi strung an arrow onto his bow, commenting to Kyrahth his target mentally automatically before he corrected himself and said out loud instead, “That bush right there, with the red berries? Two paces above it, tree right behind.”

The distinct sound of the arrow’s impact was followed by Kyrahth’s soft rumble, the green informing him, Oh congratulations, you’re only maybe a fourth of a pace off that time. Aim for the heart and at worst you’ll rip open the jugular.

“Hey,” A’emi said, in lieu of waiting for praise or insults or whatever, “So I was thinking for the next time I have to teach fighting. Mind if I run some stuff by you? Your—uh, your green doesn’t have to hide, by the way. Kyrahth won’t hurt her.” Probably. Unless she was particularly annoying.

[Rowana]

Farryl smiled a little at A'emi's response to her shot. Maybe she wasn't as out of practice as she felt, though hitting trees was still far from hitting moving targets. "And yes, that's right," her face fell a little. She'd been moved onto Mi'rah's wing after U'rh had died in the earthquake. She and the old wingleader hadn't always agreed, in fact she'd downright hated him for ages. Yet she'd grown to respect him over time and his dragon, Ykkith had been a good friend to Peppeth. Mi'rah was a good leader too, but it took some getting used to.

Only then did she recall that A'emi was on her wing too, as a trainer of some kind as she recalled. Really she aught to have remembered sooner, but she hardly ever got to see him even at drills. She nodded thoughtfully at his choice of targets and waited for him to shoot before drawing her own bow. Her shot went low this time, nearly a foot off the mark. "Not bad," she commented at his shot. "Mine needs more power."

"Oh?" Farryl was curious that A'emi actually wanted to discuss things about the wing. "What's that?" She had to admit, she wouldn't mind learning a bit more about fighting. Her hand to hand skills were still barely more than adequate. Peppeth? A'emi says Kyrahth won't hurt you. Why don't you at least watch the archery? she asked hopefully. Peppeth turned so she could watch the two humans. She does not like me though, the green complained mournfully.

[Avu]

“Yes.” Simple answer to her observation—it was true, and they weren’t really training so A’emi didn’t feel the need to expound on that. Instead he tilted his head to look at her, and then, after a brief minute of organizing his thoughts into a comprehensible order in his mind, said, “I wanted to do something that’s more of a game. Guerilla warfare, sort of. Hand to hand will come over time but if there’s not some exposure to wilderness and a rougher terrain you—that’s a general ‘you’,” he added, in case she opted to take offense, but A’emi really didn’t know Farryl at all and she was the only source of opinion he had right now, other than Kyrahth, who was also the most sarcastic source of opinion he’d ever had, “Aren’t going to be very useful without your dragons.”

The dragon doesn’t strike me as very useful either, Kyrahth observed, utterly deadpan; the green flashed a mildly disgusted look at Peppeth, and uncurled from around her tree to pace closer to A’emi and Farryl. She sprawled possessively close—her tail snapping around in a mute challenge for the other green; go on, come closer. Be brave, baby.

Ignoring Kyrahth (because really it was the only way A’emi managed to act vaguely normal), A’emi continued, “Wanted to do a scavenger hunt or Capture the Flag deal in the jungle. Split you up into teams, arm you with weapons that shouldn’t do much damage, granted they’re used properly. Can use dragons for communication but not for scouting, and I’ll be picking you off with something—paintball arrows or something. Might bruise, shouldn’t be worse than that.” He flicked her an inquisitive glance—judging her expression and reaction. There was no point trying to implement anything unless there was interest to start with.

He didn’t envy Wingleaders drills at all. At least as fighting specialist he had a wide range available to him. Trying to get people enthusiastic about flying formations had to suck. “It’s mostly a bruise thing,” he finished, quirking an eyebrow at Farryl. “Whether having a few bruises is too extreme for drills.” Kept his voice deliberately inflectionless; A’emi didn’t think it was too much to ask at all. Legatus drills surpassed bruises, but then again…the girl didn’t seem exactly tough. Especially not with her mindmate cowering behind a tree.