Post by kysseh on Nov 6, 2009 0:31:08 GMT -5
Afternoons were not the most advantageous time to be out and exercising, but being inconvenient--whether to herself or anyone in the vicinity--was something that Aliscia seemed to specialize in. The sunlight was merciless in beating upon her exposed skin, and the greenrider was, unsurprisingly, beginning to show signs that the heat was getting to her. Fine beads of sweat were appearing on her forehead and making slow tracks down her face, wet spots soaking the back of her sleeveless shirt as she baked and steamed under the Rukbat's relentless gaze. It did not seem unreasonable to assume that she would begin to boil in the near future, and her current activity was not helping matters.
Her fists were thumping mercilessly into her makeshift punching sack, beating a nice little rhythm that someone might have found an inclination to dance to had she chosen a more suitable spot. Instead, located as she was right at the edge of a jungle, the greenrider reckoned few people would come bother her. Tanith, sunning a safe distance away, was enjoying the full glare of the sunlight, but most people probably found it quite uncomfortable. Aliscia cared little. The overhanging branch on this tree was perfect for dangling the firestone sack stuffed nearly to bursting with dried grasses, and she could easily adjust the height to suit her diminutive posture. Few things in life suited the vertically-challenged, but this did just fine. Sure, she had had to secure the bag by rope to one of the roots below to keep it from swinging wildly, but it did well enough for being such a rapidly-constructed piece of equipment.
Do try to punch with your back to me. If you face me, it might fly off the tree and hit me, and I will be /most/ displeased with you. Why are you beating it anyway? Why not beat something for a purpose? I would recommend one of those snobby little bronzeriders. I can retrieve a weyrling for you. Tanith suggested ever so helpfully, watching Hers with barely-open eyelids from her ungainly sprawl a good dragonlength away. The green was in no mood to get up and be active. After an early morning flight for some exercise, a good bath and oiling, and a decent meal, every fiber of the dragon's being protested any sort of movement. Life was good for the lazy, especially when being slothful could include giving one's mindmate a good tease.
Tanith excelled at teasing.
Hers was all too aware of this fact, and a furious storm of swearing followed the green's announcement, punctuated by a flurry of thumps as tiny fists pounded at the sack. She was beating it mercilessly, and the bag could do nothing to stop the onslaught of punches, kicks, and general abuse that rained upon its unsuspecting self. This was not the reason that Aliscia enjoyed the exercise, though. No, the opportunity to sweat and toil and make herself ache was seized for the relief of stress that it brought. Staying in shape was something that came naturally to the little woman, for she would have easily run to fat if she had stayed idle. Idleness was not something she did well, especially when deprived of beloved time-consumers like her children.
They were safer away from the weyr, but this did little to relieve her anxiety on the manner. She missed their giggles and play, their mischief, and their voices as they called 'good morning' and 'good night.' The woman ached to hold their squirmy little bodies and smother them in love and attention, but it was not to be. They could come back when the weyr was a less hazardous place to be, and that left Aliscia feeling more than a little bereft for the moment. She had sent her firelizard to keep them company, and Cuddles was doing his job admirably. Snot, however, loudly mourned the blue flitter's absence, and the salamandyr, sleeping on Tanith's nose, had been doing a good job reminding her humanpet of this great misery. Bothersome creature.
"Sharding..." Thump. "... northerners." Thud. "And your sharding..." Thwump. "...wars."
She really did hate today.
Her fists were thumping mercilessly into her makeshift punching sack, beating a nice little rhythm that someone might have found an inclination to dance to had she chosen a more suitable spot. Instead, located as she was right at the edge of a jungle, the greenrider reckoned few people would come bother her. Tanith, sunning a safe distance away, was enjoying the full glare of the sunlight, but most people probably found it quite uncomfortable. Aliscia cared little. The overhanging branch on this tree was perfect for dangling the firestone sack stuffed nearly to bursting with dried grasses, and she could easily adjust the height to suit her diminutive posture. Few things in life suited the vertically-challenged, but this did just fine. Sure, she had had to secure the bag by rope to one of the roots below to keep it from swinging wildly, but it did well enough for being such a rapidly-constructed piece of equipment.
Do try to punch with your back to me. If you face me, it might fly off the tree and hit me, and I will be /most/ displeased with you. Why are you beating it anyway? Why not beat something for a purpose? I would recommend one of those snobby little bronzeriders. I can retrieve a weyrling for you. Tanith suggested ever so helpfully, watching Hers with barely-open eyelids from her ungainly sprawl a good dragonlength away. The green was in no mood to get up and be active. After an early morning flight for some exercise, a good bath and oiling, and a decent meal, every fiber of the dragon's being protested any sort of movement. Life was good for the lazy, especially when being slothful could include giving one's mindmate a good tease.
Tanith excelled at teasing.
Hers was all too aware of this fact, and a furious storm of swearing followed the green's announcement, punctuated by a flurry of thumps as tiny fists pounded at the sack. She was beating it mercilessly, and the bag could do nothing to stop the onslaught of punches, kicks, and general abuse that rained upon its unsuspecting self. This was not the reason that Aliscia enjoyed the exercise, though. No, the opportunity to sweat and toil and make herself ache was seized for the relief of stress that it brought. Staying in shape was something that came naturally to the little woman, for she would have easily run to fat if she had stayed idle. Idleness was not something she did well, especially when deprived of beloved time-consumers like her children.
They were safer away from the weyr, but this did little to relieve her anxiety on the manner. She missed their giggles and play, their mischief, and their voices as they called 'good morning' and 'good night.' The woman ached to hold their squirmy little bodies and smother them in love and attention, but it was not to be. They could come back when the weyr was a less hazardous place to be, and that left Aliscia feeling more than a little bereft for the moment. She had sent her firelizard to keep them company, and Cuddles was doing his job admirably. Snot, however, loudly mourned the blue flitter's absence, and the salamandyr, sleeping on Tanith's nose, had been doing a good job reminding her humanpet of this great misery. Bothersome creature.
"Sharding..." Thump. "... northerners." Thud. "And your sharding..." Thwump. "...wars."
She really did hate today.