we live lives that are rich and blessed [Dorava]

[Lotty]

Decisions, decisions. The number of steps was not so much the issue. He had been known to limp his way up the entire staircase to the watchtowers just to get the most minute details confirmed by S'rei, to scale a few flights to Dorava's room would be a challenge considering all of the trials he had put himself through already today: drills, tending to Kier, the long walk, and now this. Still, he paused at the thought of actually going inside, and tea versus klah was not the issue he had with it...the idea just made him so sharding nervous. He simply wasn't prepared to go in there, he had rituals you see. His hair wasn't laying right, and his teeth needed brushing, and he didn't like the shirt he was wearing, and he really wanted a bath, and in all the excuses he was making up he couldn't help but also feel like a five o'clock shadow was forming on his face. Now he clearly needed to shave too.

He kicked himself mentally. What was wrong with him? Why was he making such a simple little request into a date for Faranth's sake!? He didn't know, but the color was not returning to his face and the bronzerider could be found doing what he did best: tapping his fingers together and glancing up towards the sky for answers. Maybe his dead friends in between would give him a clue of what to do. Instead he got it from Peccadillo, Home now! The green salamandyr had been waiting to return to home base for what seemed like an eternity now, and she had a firm grasp on the bronzerider, she would get her way she would!

He turned to his shoulder whispered to the mandyr even though she did not give him the same courtesy of a lowered tone, "Shush my dear. I'm just going to walk her home, and then I'll be your escort f-for the night..." Looking back at the woman he came to his compromise, "Well, I will have to have a rain check on that tea..." which he actually did enjoy just as much if not more than klah, "but I will be more than happy to join you on the walk there, or where ever really..." He trailed off and bit his lip before adding, "I just...I have things to gather for tomorrows drillls, and I um....have things and mandyrs," he would have then stepped forward but the fact was he didn't know where the woman lived so she would have to lead the way.

[dragon]

Dorava watched as Mir'ah seemed to have a few spastic twitches as he tried to think up an answer. Shards, she hadn't thought she'd been asking such a hard question that was so ground shaking. She really needed to learn whatever it was she was lacking that kept flummoxing her attempts to communicate with people. She offered a tentative smile as he seemed to beseech the sky for ... whatever. This was really starting to disturb her ... maybe she should take a vow of silence until she learned the ways of people?

When he finally answered, Dorava nodded simply. "Oh, I understand. I really do." She assured him. The whole thing was awfully awkward... the whole thing. Especially now that she was seeing a different way in which her offer might have been construed ... that just ... wasn't ... proper. He was her Wingleader after all! Maybe she shouldn't have said anything at all. That was it ... don't say anything. Then ... maybe then she would get along with people better? Probably not.

She caught the hesitation in his step and automatically filled in for it, taking the lead in the path that was the correct one, though she was still uncertain of this notion of all those stairs. After all ... after going all the way up ... for what? Just to go down again? "You really don't have to go up, if you don't want to." Dorava offered, just to make sure he wasn't going to tackle that hurdle just cause he thought he had to. He didn't ...

[Lotty]

He was becoming incredibly suspicious as the woman reminded him again that he didn't need to walk her up all of those steps, but the fact of the matter was that he really did feel like he had to. That was what a gentleman did, and what she was saying only spelled out to him that she really thought that he couldn't make it. Really he thought it would have been a little easier to swallow had she just went ahead and called him a gimp. Just say it. I'm lame, broken, crippled... He wasn't good enough, he knew, physically to be much of a help to anybody. Ever. Busted up gait or not, he was always assumed as the weakest link. Maybe he should indulge her wishes...

After all, he was just as much - if not more - her Wingleader than he was a friend, and in this position of authority he owed her nothing. Respect in drills, yes, if deserved, but in daily life there was little to give other than the time of day. Mi'rah always offered more to his wingriders because well...he was nice, and he liked people, and he wanted friends desperately. He was also new to the whole idea of command, to truly having someone directly under him, and just now coming to the conclusion that sadly some sacrifices needed to be made.

He'd save his pride, refuse to be a doormat, and go without killing himself on those steps. She didn't need to see him sweat. It wasn't fair to him to be put in such a compromising position, "Uhm..." he faltered in his step, upset in his decision to give up, reminding himself that in another way he was being incredibly assertive for a change. It was all in how one looked at it, "Y-you know, I suppose I will leave you h-here then Dorava. My weyr is on the other side of the canyon..." he explained himself, "I will see you tomorrow then?" Without much more ado, he nodded and turned on his heal to shuffle his way back to his own home...

Peccadillo was incredibly pleased.

[dragon]

Dorava watched in silent remorse as Mi'rah seemed to change his mind ... but not in a good way. She really didn't understand people. Even nice people like Mi'rah .. they didn't make sense. And ... well ... she'd gone and done it. Managed to irritate even him. And over what? Trying to be considerate, really. The oddest things ticked people off. But then ... maybe she should have known better. Male pride and all that ... they didn't want to be seen as weakened. It hadn't been an insult she'd meant, more of a concern. What if he'd stumbled on his way down? Nobody would have been there to catch him. But therein lay her error, she figured. In thinking that he might. He didn't like that assumption.

Murrr. One day, maybe the day before she died, she would get it all figured out and things would go smoothly. "I ... I'm sorry." Dorava offered, quietly. A dismissal was a dismissal, though. "Tomorrow." She agreed, wishing she could mend the holes she'd punched in his ego so ignorantly.

Dorava just stood there and watched as he left, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole, never to be seen again. Someday, someday she would say the right things. And then she would die.