Quite the Handful(s) [Tags Ka'rys]

[glamourie]

She was really kind of.. dense, in his opinion. (Yes, coming from him, which even he was aware was probably a laughable thought.) The bronzerider cocked his head to the side and watched Savitri for a moment before leaning over to kiss her jaw gently. It was a feather-light touch, but he thought that it said more than words could. How was he supposed to explain to her everything going through his mind? First there was the fact that he thought she'd make the first move if she wanted more and - he really had expected her to if that was her goal. Savitri wasn't exactly known for her subtlety. Then there was the issue of her brother, something he was avoiding like a plague. Ka'rys and comfort were not two words often combined, and when it came to sibling deaths, he was hypersensitive; he didn't know what to say to not make things worse, so he hadn't said anything at all. He hadn't thought it a good idea to imply any interest in her after Virast's death, either- what if Savitri took that to be him trying to take advantage of her or something? She seemed so determined to believe the worst of him at any given moment that he spent most of his time trying to figure out the worst possible ways his behavior could be interpretted. The end result was a level of hesitation she apparently found bothersome. Bugger. He'd messed up again.

"Vi." Nickname still; maybe she'd pick up on the fact that he wasn't trying to be cruel? "You're a dolt." So kind, he was. Fortunately (perhaps?) he followed it with pulling Savitri over to him to press a firm kiss on her lips that, in his opinion, was answer enough. If she needed words, he was going to make her go on waiting; he thought he was being painfully obvious about his fondness for her. Kalierre had noticed it, after all, and she didn't even know him! Yet Savitri was unsure. How silly.

The kiss only lasted a heartbeat or two, but he thought it was long enough to make his point. Rather than fully pull away, though, he instead dragged Savitri into his lap completely - quite forcibly pulling her out of her sulking position, whether she liked it or not. Then he wound his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder from behind, eyes falling closed. "My ankle is very sore right now," he admitted, which for Ka'rys was a miracle; he normally didn't admit pain at all. "I messed it up pretty good. Kalierre said I fractured it bad enough that fragments of bone were lodging into bone and ligaments... and that I nicked a blood vessel too. I think she said I tore two ligaments?" He sounded almost thoughtful as he spoke; he wasn't a healer and did not really understand the diagnosis completely. Just that it hurt, a lot. "I'm supposed to stay off of it. I've been trying but I think I'm probably using it more than she'd have liked. Hurts to even touch it." There was a reason he was explaining that. "I can't be wandering from my weyr to yours with my ankle in this state. So you should just stay here instead. Saves us both the trouble for now."

Was that answer enough for her? If it wasn't, well, he was going to shove fruit at her in retaliation. He thought it was a plenty good explanation. He really didn't have any objections to going to visit her, except that it did make him want to scream every time he put his weight on that ankle even slightly. Ka'rys stubbornly refused to use numbweed - so he was in a considerable amount of pain much of the time. Not when he was distracted, but Savitri was notorious about squirming in her sleep from the couple of times they'd fallen asleep together. He didn't want to risk her accidentally nudging his ankle. Maybe that was selfish on his part, but he was fairly sure she'd fuss worse if she had any idea just how bad the pain really was. Savitri liked fussing.

The glimmer of gold next to his head made Ciceroth lift his wing to turn and look at Hepaticath. His eyes whirled in embarrassment and he turned to stare back at Liette. They are not all silly, he protested, though the truth of the matter was that he was more upset over having to share his Rys than anything else. He'd been all right with Ophelie because she was quite unimposing. She did not make him feel threatened. But two was really too many. RysHis was his and he did not like the idea of other flying, winged creatures trying to steal him away. Sharing was not in Ciceroth's nature. He was used to being the best, most wonderful. Liette imposed on his claims, whether she meant to or not, by being slightly more prominent than Ophelie. The older green was easy to overlook, as she was fond of fading into the background most of the time.

The slight lick made Liette twitch her legs, but she otherwise did not move. Hepaticath speaking however made her jolt up and look around in alarm before squawking and going between. Ciceroth stared after her before rumbling softly. Yours does not need to feel alone. She has Rysmine, you, me and the white thing. And the little green thing that thinks it is a queen. Were they not all good enough? Maybe she needs a hatchling, too. Rysmine's hatchling makes him very happy?

[kysseh]

The gentle kiss to her jaw was somewhat surprising, and she turned just enough to watch him, wondering where the tenderness was coming from. She wanted to believe it was simply affectionate, and it reassured her that the fond feelings were not one-sided. Still, it wasn’t the answer she wanted. His statement wasn’t either, and her eyes widened to near comical proportions. She inhaled deeply in preparation to give him an earful, but he pulled her closer into a kiss that was not so gentle. Her ire vanished, one hand sneaking up into his hair to tangle in the dark, damp locks. She liked his hair and playing with it.

It ended all too soon, though, and she was about to protest when he pulled her into his lap. Worried though she was that he would damage his ankle, the way in which his arms encircled her had her leaning back into him, resting her head against his. Her own hands crossed over her front to cover his arms, and she wriggled briefly to settle herself into a more comfortable position. The movement had to be kept to a minimum, though, so as not to jar his ankle or to cause any… currently-unfixable problems. She could scarcely jump him when he was injured as such. His words confirmed that he was in fairly bad shape, and her hand drifted to stroke the thigh of his injured leg in wordless reassurance.

“Sharding right you should be off it,” she murmured quietly, turning her head just enough to kiss his cheek. It was just his ankle. Not life-threatening, but she snuggled back against him anyway. “And you don’t like numbweed, so you’re probably in a lot of unnecessary pain. You need rest. I’ll get you anything you need. Just send Ophelie for me, or have Ciceroth ask Cath.” She selfishly wanted him well again, ignoring the rapid pounding of her heart at the sudden thought of how badly he had damaged his ankle. He could have just as easily fallen and cracked his skull open. It was a ridiculous and pointless fear, but it bothered her nonetheless, especially considering the suddenness with which she had lost Virast. “Do me a favor, Rys… and try not to die, okay? I’d kind of like to have some time with you.”

Stay… here? She supposed she could, though she worried at her lip as she contemplated the technicalities of it. She had work to do and pets to care for, plus Hepaticath to fuss over. “I’ll be here as much as I can… to help you. I have Vira and Fish in my weyr, though, and they’ll wake the whole weyr if I don’t shower them in attention every few candlemarks. That, or they’ll come searching for me, and I don’t want you tripping over them. They’re both horribly underfoot all the time,” she said somewhat anxiously. It must have been fairly bad if he was asking her to stay and help her. Ka’rys was not one to admit weakness, she had noticed. He seemed to despise it. “Is it hurting really badly now? I can look at it for you…”

Her playmate’s adorable embarrassment had Hepaticath crooning in quiet amusement, and the gold watched Ciceroth eye the flitter on his back until, startled by Hepaticath’s overtures of friendliness, the green vanished. The young gold huffed softly but gave no other indication of irritation. It was a very silly creature. She would have to be careful to not frighten it the next time.

Instead of dwelling on that, she rested her head on Ciceroth’s foreleg, exhaling gustily as she let herself think over his statements. Yes… she has us all… myself, yours, RysYours, the white thing, the green little flitter, and the little fluffy things. But she is still sad. She does not talk of it, but she is often lonely. I do not know why. the gold said sadly, flicking her tail in agitation. I told her that I wanted a hatchling, and it would be good for her. She said she does not want to a hatchling all by herself, like Tanith’s. She got very upset about it, too, so I did not ask. I think a hatchling would make her very happy. She cuddles Tanith’s hatchlings often…

It was a frustrating situation to say the least. The gold flared open one wing and flopped it over her playmate’s body, gratified to note that her wings were not so tiny in comparison to his. It was nice to be big. I think Mine will feel better after things are calm again. She is sad about her clutchbrother, and she worries about Yours and the hatchling and about Tanith’s and those hatchlings. Worry, worry, worry, and no rest. Mine can not take her own advice. That reproachful statement was aimed at Hers, though the gold pretended to not notice when Savitri glared as the goldrider overheard. It was the truth, after all.

[glamourie]

Ka’rys tightened his arms around Savitri’s mid section and smiled to himself. She was insisting on numbweed. Kalierre had actually advised against it - not that he needed such suggestions, since he hated the substance to begin with, but he found it comical that the green rider and gold rider had opposing viewpoints. He kept that opinion to himself. It was unlikely that Savitri would derive the same humor from it and he was not of the opinion that souring the mood was a good decision. Besides, he was quite effectively comfortable with her there, and the warmth of her body against his was a very good distraction from the pains shooting up through his ankle. As long as he kept it still and propped up slightly, it didn’t hurt as much. Still a dull ache, but ignorable. Especially when he had something else to keep his mind on, like the smell of her hair so close to his face and her hands on him. But her tension was noticeable from how close they were, and he quirked an eyebrow curiously in response. What had he done to upset her so?

Her words made him frown. Not die. “Everything dies, you know… but I don’t intend to do so any time soon.” He had unfinished business, after all, though he had no intentions of telling her that was his reason for wanting to go on. He had a lot of things to live for. Kalerary, Savitri… the idea of avenging his sister’s death, Selenitas, Ciceroth. Plenty of things to get up in the morning and struggle through the monotony of life for. Thinking of his sister made him bow his head though and he leaned his forehead against the side of Savitri’s. He listened as she spoke, not interrupting, and her excuses made him smile. How quickly she forgot that he had something a touch more needy staying in his weyr: a seven-turn-old. He couldn’t just go spend nights with her as long as Kale needed him there, and he wasn’t about to shove her off on someone else - not when he’d just got her back.

However, when she stopped speaking, he loosened his arms slightly. Just slightly. “Savitri… you can’t go through life waiting for people to die, you know.” He was a fine one to talk, wasn’t he? But he was trying. She’d made him try, whether she meant to or not. “You can’t spend all your days expecting people to just - just be gone the next day. It happens, but… you can’t live like that. You’ll embitter yourself and destroy all traces of happiness. Some day you’ve got to accept that sometimes, people die. Their bodies do anyway. The memories of who they were doesn’t, and that’s what we hold onto, what gets us through the days.” It sounded so sentimental to him, but… “It’s easier if you don’t dwell on it, and don’t think about it. It sounds cold, I know, but you have to put those memories in a box for now, the things that remind you - of… of him. Or you’ll fall apart. You’ll shatter. Lock it up until you’ve distanced yourself, then face it again. That’s how people deal with losing the people they love. It’s how you survive. You can’t just stare at the things that remind you of them and expect it all to go away, the hurt.” Pausing, Ka’rys closed his eyes. “The hurt and anger never fully goes away. You just learn to manage it better…”

His arms dropped from around her as he spoke, and he glanced at Ciceroth, as though for some kind of confirmation. It came in a sense of reassurance - just a calm feeling of trust; the bronze liked Savitri enough to trust her, and his judgment was usually better than Ka’rys’s own. Given a choice, Ka’rys wouldn’t tell anyone anything. He’d be called ‘Bronze rider’ for all time.

“I had a sister… back at Fort. Kalerary’s aunt, though I’m not sure how well Kale knew her; she wasn’t… we weren’t that close, but she was the only family I had. I don’t think I ever told you that before, did I?”

Yes, he was changing the topic away from his ankle. Somehow, Ka’rys doubted that Savitri would mind all that much… and if she did, well, he’d learn not to tell her anything personal anymore. It wasn’t often he felt inspired to do so to begin with. He liked to keep his past tightly guarded. In his opinion, once a secret was told, it was no longer a secret and thus was extremely dangerous to him.

How would she get a hatchling all by herself? Hatchlings do not form all by themselves. Tanith’s didn’t make one by itself. I thought Salenth’s helped? Clearly puzzled by the wording of Hepaticath’s statement, Ciceroth rumbled. She can have one with Rysmine, he likes them. I think he should always have a hatchling with him. He is a very different person with hatchlings - of any kind. He likes them very much. When he’s with a hatchling, he’s… he’s himself. His guard is down. He stops acting so defensive, so skittish, and lets his true self show. I like him best when he is like that, because that is when he is Rysmine, not the defensive person he tries to be with everyone else. The bronze ignored Savitri’s glare and curled the end of his tail with Hepaticath’s. His eyes whirled curiously and he rumbled. Maybe they can borrow Tanith’s hatchlings. Then they both have one - she has two yes? - and they won’t be unhappy anymore. They shouldn’t stay with their clutch mother so long anyway. Harumphing, the bronze snorted. Human hatchlings take a very long time to Impress, I believe. Much too long.

[kysseh]

Savitri offered no protest to the momentary tightening of his arms around her torso, snuggling her back against the warmth of his chest. His touch was comforting, safe, and she let her eyelids flutter closed for a brief moment, enjoying the small comfort that was physical contact. She had never been very interested in being held before. Always had Savitri been the giver of affection, of careful touches and embraces when others needed it. Never had she been the receiver. It was new to her, and while she enjoyed it, sometimes she felt quite awkward just allowing someone to be affectionate in that manner.

At his words, though, she wanted to hide. The fact that he used her full name made her cringe slightly, and she turned her face away to hide her shamed expression. She knew full well that she was being pessimistic and overly anxious. That didn’t halt the fretting. While she could rationally tell herself that her actions made little sense, it did not bring the emotions to an end. Usually, she could manage them. Now she simply felt… overwhelmed. Her eyes opened, lips parting as if to speak, to express her understanding of what he said. She knew he was right, that dwelling on it couldn’t help and would only make it worse; she had accepted that. She just… could not wait to grieve. It plagued her mind to the point that sleep became nearly impossible.

Whatever she had wanted to say, though, was abruptly forgotten as he spoke again, and her head turned sharply to face him. Thoughts of Virast were put aside. Ka’rys had a sister? Had a sister, he said. Dead now, she assumed, though she was surprised at that fact. He had spoken before as if he had no family at all. Half-sibling, she wondered? If he was the child of dragonriders, that would not have shocked her. Her eyes focused on his face, brow furrowed in curiosity and a touch of bewilderment. “I didn’t know… no. I assumed you were an only child… no family, just from the way you spoke. What happened?”

Belatedly, she realized that his hands had fallen away from her, and both of her hands sought his wrists, wrapping his arms around her again and holding them there with her seemingly-pitiful strength. He could have easily pulled away; she just liked that contact with him. “I’m not waiting for you to die, you know. I know it’ll happen, and I don’t want it to happen now. I don’t like getting cheated out of time,” she mumbled softly, sitting very still so as not to jostle him. She was unsure how bad his ankle was still paining him and had no desire to worsen it. “I feel like…” She swallowed, closing her eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. Your sister…?” Better to let him talk for now, it seemed.

Hepaticath snorted softly, amused by the thought of Savitri siring and brooding her own hatchlings. That would certainly be quite the trick, would it not? The young queen thought so. Salenth’s sired them, but Salenth’s is not caring for them like Tanith’s is. SavitriMine wants a hatchling, but she does not want a sire that does not care. She is very stubborn about this. the gold observed, though she perked up noticeably at Ciceroth’s wise suggestions. They could borrow Tanith’s, yes. She has two. SavitriMine wants her own, though. She could have one with Yours; she would be happy to see him being… himself. I think she does not wish to upset LittleHatchling, though. She said human hatchlings get very upset about having to share their clutchparents sometimes.

Now Hepaticath was simply… puzzled by this fact, her tone betraying that. She gave her tail a thoughtful flick and turned her gaze toward Theirs, permitting Savitri to filch some of the details of the conversation from her mind. Hepaticath kept few secrets from Hers, and Savitri did likewise. Now, however, the goldrider seemed embarrassed by the dragons’ conversation. She was blushing. Humans are not so strong as us. They need lots of care, Mine says. Like a little weyrling, except worse and for much, much longer. It is good, though. Maybe LittleHatchling will stay with Yours longer, and then he can be himself and not be defensive? Hepaticath suggested, nuzzling affectionately at her playmate. We should tell Ours to clutch more hatchlings. Then they can tie ribbons on us, and Ours can be happy.

[glamourie]

Nnnn. Of course he hadn't told her. There were a lot of reasons why not but the truth was that Ka'rys was worried about... probing, invasive questions. Already he regretted telling Savitri what little he had. While she surely meant no harm, the goldrider had a tendency to push and push and push - more so with him than with anyone else, he suspected. He doubted that she realized just how much she pushed her luck as well. It took conscious effort for him to talk about his past with anyone. It wasn't something he liked doing. Aside from being a gaping danger to his safety, his past was also one of the hardest elements for him to face, because it meant acknowledging how much had changed. Kamerai was one of many drastic changes. So many people around him, that he'd grown up knowing as constants, were dead -- and sometimes the hardest part about grieving was acknowledging that the people he knew were never coming back. He'd never see their faces again except in his own mind. It was hard to think about Kamerai - and Leradi. Hard to think about many others, too, whose lives were lost in the war... but those two were personal and that made them the most difficult.

"I don't talk of her much," he admitted, staring off at the far wall as though it had an answer for him. The feeling of Savitri's hands on his wrists was somewhat comforting and he let her guide his hands without any protest. "She was much older than me. Eighteen? Nineteen? Exact difference escapes me -- but she was grown when I was born; old enough to be my mother, she was. Close is not a word I would have ever used to describe us. Not like you and your family. I don't understand your family because mine was never like that... or well, she and I weren't. I never knew my mother and father to say whether they were with her or not. My mother, I'm told, died not long after I was born. I have no memories of her or my father whatsoever but my sister and I both took after him in appearance."

How much to tell her? If he knew Savitri at all, it was that she'd pry. She wouldn't be content with just a nameless sister. At the same time, Ka'rys dreaded the concept of explaining everything. Yet... she'd find out eventually. Eventually. Too many at Selenitas knew the truth or enough to suspect. He worried Kalierre knew. She had to have at least guessed. Conflicted, Ka'rys leaned his forehead against the back of Savitri's head, to avoid her being able to see his face. He weighed his options. He didn't want to risk losing the only person at the Weyr he trusted. On the flipside, he didn't want to keep secrets from her. It was a lose-lose situation. If Kalierre for any reason decided to talk about his little... outburst... with her, Savitri would probably be able to piece it all together, and she'd be enraged that he didn't tell her himself. If he did tell her, she might reject him completely, too. His fear of being kicked out of Selenitas, though, was drastically reduced with Shmee gone. Somehow he doubted Kaegan would kick anyone out if she was Weyrwoman, and he didn't believe Savitri would send him away -- even if she did become that angry with him.

Ka'rys twitched his fingers slightly. His nerves were frazzled, but he came to the conclusion that he had to tell her. He didn't know how much Kalierre would spill, and it would be much worse if he didn't tell her. At least she'd respect the effort it took for him to spill. Hopefully. Maybe.

"What happened? She was murdered. Not all that different from your brother." He swallowed and pulled away from her. He couldn't help it. Physical contact when he was nervous wasn't a good thing. "Savitri, my sister was a goldrider. At Fort." He let it hang in the air, that statement. Though it made him feel almost sick to say it outloud (he'd never, ever admitted it; some people concluded and asked to which he shrugged, but Ka'rys had never outright said that she was his sister before), there was also a sense of... reprieve? Like the stillness before a storm. If Savitri didn't make the logical conclusion based on names, he wasn't going to hand it to her. He didn't want to face it himself that badly...

Why isn't Salenth's caring for them? Ciceroth asked absent-mindedly; unfortunately, the bronze heard only half of what the young queen was saying to him and was answering the part most convenient to him. He was distracted by the amount of alarm RysHis was experiencing, as it wasn't like Ka'rys to get so flustered anymore - not with Savitri anyway. Careful prodding made it clear why, too, and Ciceroth was almost as uncomfortable as his rider because Ka'rys was so ill at ease. He would have tried to comfort his landbound half, but it would do no good anyway. While he was happy that RysHis was finally opening up, he did not like the idea of him being so frightened about it. No dragon enjoyed seeing their riders positively terrified, and though Ka'rys was hiding it well, Ciceroth knew he feared rejection. Unfortunately, Ciceroth wasn't sure it was an unfounded fear either. Humans were fickle. Should he not be guarding them when Tanith's has to eat?

Turning around, Ciceroth nuzzled at Hepaticath's neck slightly... but his gaze kept turning back to Ka'rys. He didn't mean to not respond to her, but it was hard to focus with RysHis so nervous. Some of those emotions bled through onto the bronze, and his eyes whirled uncomfortable shades, and quickly enough to make it clear it was a heightened feeling.

[kysseh]

Savitri’s heart was saddened by his description of his family. Her parents had been negligent, for the most part, but they had at least been present. She had never felt grateful for her childhood before, but now she seemed to have been quite lucky. She pressed back against her favored bronzerider, quietly contemplating the idea of him with an older sibling. An older sister, no less. Much, much older. It was a shame he had not been close with her, but-

He leaned his forehead against the back of her skull, and she rested against him, patiently waiting for him to finish his train of thought and share. When he did share, though, she was unsure whether to be delighted or concerned. It was delight over his trust in her but dismay over the end that both of their precious siblings had come to. She wanted to comfort him, but that swallow was nervous enough that her gut told her more was coming. When it did come, she became very still, and her mind, formerly thinking only of comfort and reassurance, immediately switched to cautious paranoia. His sister… had been a goldrider? At Fort?! Her mind raced, green eyes wide as she processed that little tidbit, and those interminable candlemarks spent in research in the records room became suddenly useful. The only goldrider from Fort whose name was even remotely similar to Ka’rys’s was…

Oh. That explained a lot.

“Kamerai. Your sister was Kamerai.” It was more statement than query, though the fact that her voice was just a note higher than normal indicated her mild alarm at the statement. He had already pulled away from her, so she carefully edged off his lap and perched on the couch beside him, turning to be able to look at his face. She wanted to see his expression, mostly because she was unsure whether or not she could trust him. Her gut instinct told her to snatch up her bag and flee his weyr. If he was the sibling of Fort’s former senior weyrwoman, then it was quite likely that he was not at Selenitas by accident. His piles of boxes, mysterious hides filled with clutch lists, and secretive nature were not helping her wish to think the best of him. He had asked it of her, though, and she stayed, hands fisted together in her lap to keep from anxiously smoothing out her rumpled skirt. Crawling around on a couch did tend to put wrinkles in clothing, she noted absently.

Hepaticath’s concern for Ciceroth was telling, though. The gold had completely abandoned their previous thread of conversation and was nuzzling anxiously at her bronze friend. The whirl of his eyes gave him away, as did his apparent lack of attention to their talk. She minded little. A discontented Ciceroth was far more important than anything else, and she crooned softly, rubbing her face against the bronze’s neck. He was very nervous, and she did not like it. If you are upsetting Ciceroth’s, you should stop. My playmate is nervous. she told Hers privately, more than a little concerned.

The goldrider--obviously not as oblivious as a person might think--had already picked up on the fact that Ciceroth was experiencing some emotional discomfort, mostly via Cath’s sensitivity to her playmate’s mood. She sympathized. Instead of drawing attention to the bronze’s dismay, though, she edged closer to Ka’rys, her eyes still firmly locked on his face. “If she was your sister, then… I don’t think you’re here by choice or accident, are you?” He had been spying on them, hadn’t he? Was he spying on her now? Perhaps. She doubted it, though. She was something of a pain to get along with, and unless supremely bound by duty, a masochistic tendency, or real devotion, no self-respecting man would want to submit himself to her emotional tyranny. “I am sorry that your sister was murdered, even if you weren’t close,” she added softly, one hand lifting to trail the pads of her fingers across his cheek. Her head tilted, trying to catch his gaze.

“You asked me to blindly trust you. This is me trying. I really wish you’d have told me earlier, though.” Actually, Savitri simply wished he would just be honest and cough up everything she wanted and needed to know. That was unlikely to happen, though. Ka’rys seemed to have a never-ending supply of personal secrets. Her tone displayed her exasperation and irritation at that fact. “I trust that you’re not the one behind the poisonings.” And she did, she realized. Ka’rys would not have done that. Perhaps it was a stupid, biased hope, but she did not think he was responsible. Was he capable? Certainly, she thought. Did he? No. “… but…” Yes. But. Her voice trailed off, and she was silent again, giving up out of confusion and frustration. Instinct and reason could not decide whether he was a risk or not….

[glamourie]

"Yes. Kamerai was my sister."

That was the only answer Ka'rys offered initially. Her moving - even just slightly - sent a very strong pit to his stomach and a feeling of regret unfathomable. He immediately wished he'd never said anything, though he did his best to push all of that regret and hurt down, out of sight. A sarcastic voice in his mind pointed out that at least he didn't have to justify his secretive nature anymore -- since, well, she knew the biggest secret of all. He didn't dare look over at her, instead staring very pointedly at the tray that Savitri brought. More than anything, in that moment he wanted to hobble over to Ciceroth and cuddle up to his dragon. The bronze was the only source of comfort he had, and he knew he was upsetting him immensely. He didn't mean to make the dragon uncomfortable, but... his own discomfort was enough that it took all of his effort not to ask Savitri to leave. He didn't want to continue the conversation. But asking her to leave would just make it worse. He knew that. So hard to deal.

The closer she edged, the more he was tempted to recoil, and it took all of Ka'rys's effort not to skitter across the couch - away from her as far as he could get. He sat still, staring away from Savitri, as though the fruit on the tray was the most interesting thing in the world. His eyes studied the texture of the redfruit's skin, obsessively latching onto every detail, as though it could keep him from having to continue talking. Yet -- yet her question... Ka'rys frowned, wondering the best way to approach it. The question was valid, and one he expected, but he strongly believed the answer would just push her away even more. She'd probably leave, and he couldn't fault her. There was a reason he didn't let people get close to him. A thousand regrets echoed through his mind, but rather than address them, Ka'rys acted on the urge to scoot away -- completely to the other side of the couch, as though a physical distance would protect him from the hurt welling inside of him that was rapidly growing to an unmanageable size. Her touch actually made him jump, which was surely telling of how uncomfortable he was, but he kept himself from making a peep. He was proud of that, at least.

"I didn't tell you earlier because I was sure that if Shmee found out, for any reason, I would have a one way ticket to either Benden or Fort - whichever suited her fancy." It wasn't justification so much as a simple explanation, and he doubted that Savitri would understand exactly how worrisome that was for him. In fact, Ka'rys was fairly sure Savitri wouldn't remotely grasp it. He couldn't go back to Fort. R'anatar was a monster in even his eyes, and Ka'rys made excuses for most actions; anything he could justify was not monstrous. R'anatar, though, was so much like C'leon in personality and from what he heard, Fort was rapidly becoming Benden the second... not his home, not the place he'd grown up. If he was intelligent at all he would be paranoid about anyone with ties to the former Fort Weyrleaders. Ka'rys could never go home. Benden was out for simple sanity. What happened to him there would be indescribable, and he truly believed that the deceased Weyrwoman would have sent him away on a whim. No one would have been able to convince her against it, either.

He chose not to reply to her question/statement about how he came to be at Selenitas. The answer was obvious. That and he was quickly distracted by her next question. Was he behind the poisonings? -- That she had to ask at all made him want to curl into a small ball somewhere and not come out for a few days. He kept his face guarded, but he couldn't prevent himself from standing up (albeit weakly) and moving off of the couch. He couldn't sit so close to her. Not right then. That she had to ask hurt more than words could describe. A turn they'd known each other, and while he'd kept secrets, it was as much for her safety as anything else. He'd never harmed anyone intentionally (M'ta exempted; that was an accident on his part) and he'd gone out of his way to keep Selenitas safe. While Shmee frustrated him, he wouldn't have ever wished harm on her seriously, nor ever done anything to cause it -- didn't Savitri realize that? Everything else aside, ignoring all logic, Shmee had a child. He knew what it was like to grow up without parents. He'd never wish that on anyone. And he would never have allowed harm to come to Savitri's brother, either. Why - why would she think he'd do something like that?

Folding his arms, he swallowed thickly and moved to sit on the other couch. More physical distance was good. Rather than sit normally, however, Ka'rys very blatantly curled into the corner of the couch. Yes, he looked uncomfortable, and he really didn't care in that moment; at least he hadn't completely clamped up. Though, that thought reminded him that he needed to speak and say... something. Something.

"I would never intentionally leave a child without their mother," he offered softly. He was pleased by how much stronger his tone was than he felt. "Just as I would never - never - have taken your brother from you, Savitri; the thought would never have even crossed my mind."

He hoped she'd at least believe him, but somehow, he doubted that she would. The urge to crawl over to Ciceroth and let the bronze's bulk comfort him was immense. Running away wouldn't solve things, though, and he didn't... he felt he owed to her to at least try. So the couch would have to do for the moment. He leaned back further against the arm of the chair and bowed his head as a low mewl sounded next to him. Then Reggie hopped onto the couch and climbed right into Ka'rys's lap, without any hesitation whatsoever. Purring, the feline rubbed his head on the bronzerider's jaw, possessively staking his claim. Ka'rys lifted one hand to pet the feline, clearly no longer mad about being tripped. For now.

Hepaticath's nuzzling comforted Ciceroth little. He tried to focus on that touch, but the upset that RysHis was feeling was more than he was used to. He settled for slouching back against her, trying to keep most of his weight to himself but more contact was helpful. However, he spoke only for His to hear, and with a careful tone, Rysmine... are you okay? It was bizarre - His was staying calm and trying not to make a fight, Ciceroth realized with a start. It wasn't like him. Normally when he was that upset, he ran away, or he just... didn't deal with it, he turned it off. Then again, talk of Grenostith's often upset RysHis; clutchsiblings, they were, he knew that but he did not understand why it bugged him as much as it did. The bronze crooned quietly, his eyes whirling more. Do you want me to get the hatchling...? Calling Kalerary was always Ciceroth's idea of how to deal with things, but the answer he got was no answer at all -- RysHis was focusing on trying to remain calm. The bronze flicked his tail and crooned again.

[kysseh]

“I wouldn’t have told her.”

Savitri had recoiled as if stung when he moved away, and his surprise at her touch, which was only intended to convey that she was not truly afraid of him, made her shy completely away. The physical distance was only emphasized by his move to the other couch, and it forced her face away to hide the obvious guilt she felt. Guilt and sorrow, an odd ache that she identified as hurt over the fact that he did not trust her. He was avoiding her, and Savitri made no move to pursue him. Crowding him was not her intent, and knowing her completely ineptitude when it came to the bronzerider, it was probably best that she let him keep that distance, she decided.

Instead, she drew up her knees and rested her feet on the couch, hugging her legs protectively to her chest as if it was comforting. And it was soothing, strangely. Had she seen herself, she would have immediately adopted a different pose, one that made her look less like a despondent child. A despondent and tense child, no less. It rankled at her that Ka’rys was questioning her judgment. Wasn’t he the one who had lectured her on the naivete of southerners? “I wouldn’t have told Shmee. Or anyone. And I wouldn’t have let her send you away. I wasn’t her pet informant,” she said rather sharply, her tone betraying her hurt.

Upset by the distance he was creating, her thoughts and emotions were starting to work themselves into a frenzy. Her chin flopped down atop her knees, green eyes fixating on the feline and refusing to look the bronzerider in the face as the furry creature took up residence in Ka’rys’s lap. “I didn’t think you were behind them, Rys. It wasn’t a question. If nothing else, I knew you wouldn’t have… killed Virast.” Her voice broke, but she ignored it, instead turning her face away from the bronzerider. “I’m trying to trust you. I’m trying, but what did you want me to say? Did you want me to scream at you, or did you want me to just say that everything was perfectly fine? Weren’t you the one lecturing me about how naïve people are here? I know you wouldn’t hurt me, and I know you aren’t out to undermine this weyr. You’ve had plenty of opportunity if that was your intent. I’m just trying to be sensible.”

Her gaze flicked back toward him, though her head barely turned, leaving her face half-hidden by the short mop of hair that swept over her cheek. She was unsure whether to be angry or just upset. Hepaticath was radiating distress and worry, which was not helping matters. Savitri could scarcely comfort her gold at the moment; her mind was too preoccupied. She said nothing aloud, though, and her gaze soon moved to examine the obviously-worried pair of dragons. Her appetite was gone, and she was steadfastly ignoring the tray of food.

When Ciceroth slouched against Hepaticath, the gold only offered a low croon and rubbed her head against him in comfort and reassurance. The rapid yellow whirl of the young queen’s eyes betrayed her own anxiety, but she remained silent. An upset Savitri was never, ever a good thing, and while she yearned to coddle Hers and hiss at the offenders who distressed the young woman, she could scarcely be angry with Ciceroth and His. It was not the males’ faults. Or… not completely, from what she could gather from Savitri’s thoughts. No, Ciceroth was upset because of His, and Hepaticath was upset because of Ciceroth’s and Hers, and Hers was upset because of Hepaticath and Ciceroth’s. It was all very overwhelming, and the gold offered a soft croon at both humans, her tailtip twitching in agitation. She disliked this very, very much.

[glamourie]

Despite himself, Ka'rys actually paled. He couldn't become any more tense than he was in that moment, else he would have. He flinched as if slapped by the sharp tone that she spoke with and though he tried to hide it, Ka'rys did edge away even further. He squeezed against the couch as if he thought he could vanish into it, somehow. Squirming away seemed like a better course of action than staying still. He just couldn't win, it felt like; he wished he hadn't said anything. Stupid, it was stupid to say it and the regret he felt was only growing. Ka'rys stared down at Reggie and ran his fingers over the feline's fur, earning more loud purring. Reggie wiggled in his lap, pacing in circles to try and get Ka'rys to rub him at exactly the right angle, and he rubbed the edge of his cheeks against the bronzerider's hands in a classic marking gesture. That unwavering affection was somewhat comforting, and Ka'rys wound one arm tighter around the feline, as though to hug him closer.

"I - I didn't think - I didn't mean..." he said softly, though he was sure it wouldn't do him any good; she always just assumed he meant the worst, and he was concluding he couldn't win at all. He was tempted to just give up and say whatever he thought Savitri wanted to hear. The hopeless feeling growing inside of him thought that at least if he did that, he had a chance at some kind of peace. He didn't know what to do, so he kept his head bowed, so that his hair hid his face away. "I know - I mean.. I know now.. I.. I'm sorry." That seemed like the right thing to say. Right? She couldn't possibly get angry with him for an apology, could she? Then again, she could take it as sarcastic. He didn't think he sounded sarcastic, but then, he hadn't thought that he implied she'd tell Shmee, either. Ka'rys clenched his eyes closed and tightened his grip on Reggie, as though that one touch could keep him in the real world. His stomach hurt, and he vaguely wondered if the nausea meant he was going to vomit or not. He couldn't tell if it was just his nerves or something else entirely.

Did she realize how she sounded? Probably not; Ka'rys doubted that Savitri was thinking about it... but her behavior reminded him exactly of the deceased Weyrwoman. Channeling her from the dead, somehow. The deduction of that was simple: He'd gone out on a limb to tell her something very personal and dangerous, and all she could take from it was insult. And it hurt that she didn't even seem to realize how hard it was for him. It hurt that all she did was take offense and insult from everything he said. The feeling that he couldn't do anything right was a familiar one... and not one he liked. He hated feeling inadequate, and with every word, she was reminding him that he was. Nothing he did was right, apparently. Not telling her made her mad. Telling her made her mad. He couldn't win... why bother trying?

Trying to be sensible...? That idea was laughable. That she had to ask was classically insensible; she should've used that logic before blurting out the question, and it made him mad that when he'd answered honestly, as nicely as he could, she blurted out something that may have been meant to reassure, but sounded more like an attack than he'd have liked. He narrowed his eyes for a split second, then pushed all of his anger inside. Buried it away. Between that and the worthless feeling that was rapidly encompassing everything else, it was a wonder he hadn't just fallen apart yet. It was only pride, he realized, that kept him from tipping over the edge. She was upsetting him, yes, badly -- but by Faranth, he was not going to let her see it. She didn't have a right to see it. Not if that was how she was going to act. The more angry he felt, the less inclined to fall apart he was, but shard it, he had no intentions of showing her any of his feelings. Nonononono.

Exhale. Ka'rys let go of Reggie, who climbed onto the arm of the chair and proceeded to knead his hair as if he owned him. Ignoring the feline, Ka'rys uncurled slightly and stared down toward the floor. He couldn't look at her. He couldn't. Yet, when he tried to speak, all of the anger quickly evaporated again. He wanted to yell or at least defend himself, but he didn't have the strength. What he said was vastly different from what he was thinking, but nevertheless true: "I know that. I'm sorry." Another apology, when it was usually so hard to wrangle them out of him -- namely because he didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to try and justify anything, explain anything. Actually, all he wanted to do was curl up and/or vomit, but neither was all that great of an option at the moment. Was the anger he felt really even his? He cast a half-glance at Ciceroth, unsure. The bronze being so upset bothered him more than Savitri being upset. Usually he was even tempered.

And Ciceroth was upset. It was gradually getting worse, too. Part of it was anxiety over His, but unlike Ka'rys, he was also very practical. He knew exactly how hard it was for RysHis to say anything about his past, especially about Grenostith's... and it made him angry that immediately, he got yelled at. While he was sure that SavitriCath's was upset, it didn't matter to him very much in that moment; RysHis was his and he didn't like seeing him hurting, especially when he was doing something that was already uncomfortable. Tense, the bronze moved his head to hide beneath one of his wings, trying to push down some of the irritation he felt. He didn't speak, not to RysHis, nor to Hepaticath. He didn't trust himself to say anything.

[kysseh]

Savitri felt quite horrible.

She had made assumptions again. His stuttered explanation and the flinch he gave were proof of that. It was a common problem of hers, and she had thought she was getting better. Apparently, she was not. The young woman hunched her shoulders and cringed deeper into her upright fetal position. She hated fighting with the bronzerider, though it seemed to happen quite often. Her assumptions and his secretive nature did not mesh well. But he had shared secrets with her, and her eyes focused on him again. The irritation was gone, guilt and sorrow taking their place. His apology sounded sincere, and she assumed it was, mostly because the distance he placed between them implied a world of hurt. Unless he was uselessly appeasing her (which he seemed too smart to do), he did mean it, which only made the guilt worse.

Her eyes tracked the feline’s motions for a moment, until Ka’rys’s second apology made her look at him. He was so… closed off. That comfortable cuddling and openness was gone. Her teeth gnawed anxiously at her lower lip. She had wrecked things… again. True, he had reacted more strongly than was perhaps necessary, but she had been at greater fault. “I’m sorry. For doubting you,” she said very quietly. His reaction to her concerns confirmed her better judgment that whatever reason he was sent to Selenitas was not the reason he was still present. She knew that.

Her arms loosened their hold on her knees, and she carefully unfolded her body and stood, padding barefoot toward the other couch. She didn’t sit but instead knelt in front of him, one hand extending as if to touch him. Halfway there, the hand was quickly retracted, for she thought better for it. “I know… you were trying to trust me. I do appreciate it.” Ashamed, she looked down at her lap. “I’m sorry for being selfish.” That was a sacrifice to confess to. It was selfish, and while she could justify her selfish thoughts of self-preservation to some degree, she knew that there were times when faith was more important. She hadn’t had that trust in him, out of fear and selfishness.

He was probably less than interested in accepting her apology. “I should… do you want me to leave?” Leave before it got worse, she thought. Really, she wanted to go curl in between Hepaticath’s forelegs and pretend the world did not exist for a short while. Hepaticath seemed incredibly distressed, though, and Savitri had no wish to make it worse. That was all she had done as of late, she noted bitterly. Make things worse. She did not trust herself. How did they end up fighting this horribly? As egotistical as she was, Savitri was fairly firmly convinced it was largely her fault. She sat back on her heels, ignoring the discomfort that her knees were complaining so loudly of. Her knees could deal with it.

You did make it worse. But you tried to make it better. Hepaticath commented privately. The gold lowered her head to rest her chin on one foreleg, avoiding fussing over the bronze that was curled beside her. Instead, she let out a quiet croon, her yellow-orange eyes betraying her distress. She was unsure what hurt her and Hers’ most… their own concern over Ciceroth and His… or the bronzepair’s horrible upset. It was the latter, most likely. SavitriHers seemed to not want her input for the moment, though, so the gold stayed silent and merely tipped her head away from the bronze so as to hide the agitation evident in her eyes. He was hidden and seemed distracted, but Hepaticath was sure he would not react kindly to her being in a state as well. Her wings pressed in tightly to her sides, and she stared fixedly at a distant spot, unable to stop the soft whine that emerged from her throat.

[glamourie]

Ka'rys tilted his head back slightly. Reggie continued to knead his head, purring loud enough that Ka'rys could hear him clearly. The motions were gentle enough not to hurt, though through his hair it felt... odd. Especially considering that his hair was damp and so too were Reggie's paws by proxy. The feline purred and leaned down to rub his jaw on Ka'rys's forehead. There was no denying the blatant affection being offered, as though the animal could sense Ka'rys's upset... or perhaps he was simply trying to redeem himself for tripping the bronzerider in the first place. One could never tell with felines, for they were tricksy creatures and often had many ulterior motives. Sneaky animals. Ka'rys considered for a moment, before reaching up to pull the orange feline from his head, and he returned to holding him against his chest possessively. Not at all dissuaded, Reggie chose that moment to lean forward and lick Ka'rys right on the nose. His humanslave. The bronzerider blinked twice, then flinched back as the feline turned his attention to the girl moving next to them and offered forth a curious mrrrow?

Dark brown eyes turned, critically, onto Savitri. He kept his expression as guarded as he could, but the closer she came, the more inclined to skitter away he was. His ankle made fleeing impossible (it was starting to hurt even worse, he noted mentally) but that didn't stop him from backing up as much as he could. He crammed himself back into the corner where the arm of the couch met the back and pulled his legs up slightly, to his chest. That caused his ankle to brush the top of the couch with a blinding pain he barely kept contained inside. It always hurt worse when it was touched. Absently, that thought reminded him that not even a candlemark ago she was asking him to come and stay the night with her more often. Ironic... She was probably glad he didn't take her up on that offer, in retrospect. Ka'rys didn't voice that thought or indeed reply at first, instead curling away as if the physical distance would keep some of the hurt he was feeling inside.

He thought he was behaving very well, all things considered. He hadn't stormed off just yet, had he? Or yelled? Shard it all.

"You don't have to apologize, or leave." Truthfully, he wasn't sure whether he believed her or not. He wanted to, very badly, but he was upset enough that in that moment, he didn't. He couldn't, not yet. It would take some time for him to wrap his mind around things. He was trying, though, and he hoped she recognized just how difficult it was for him not to blow up at her... or at least defend himself. He didn't think that Savitri wanted to hear all of his motives and defenses. Ka'rys was, in fact, fairly sure she didn't want to know the whole truth about anything in his life. Maybe he was being overly pessimistic, but could he really be faulted? It wasn't as if he had a happy life of any kind. "I just - I don't know - my ankle hurts." There. Topic change. He was sick of discussing his feelings, his past, or his motives. It got him absolutely no where. So instead he latched onto something neutral: the fact that he was getting to be worse in pain. "Would you mind getting some numbweed or something...? I don't think Ophelie and Liette could carry enough to dull it efficiently, and it's throbbing right now."

You're not going to tell her how upset you are, are you?
What's the point?
I suppose you're right.

Ciceroth huffed slightly and nuzzled his face into his wing. For once, he couldn't really blame RysHis for not wanting to talk. At least he'd... tried? And wasn't sending her away. He considered that progress, and for better or worse, he was starting to calm down. A little. A lot of the problem stemmed from the simple fact, though, that Ka'rys felt abandoned. It was a fear RysHis had for a very long time. A very real concern, it was, and more than once the bronze had tried to tell him that it wouldn't happen. SavitriCath's being angry proved RysHis correct. Ciceroth was actually quite impressed that his mindmate did not choose to remind him of that fact, considering how upset he was. He supposed he was trying to be mature about it... even though Ciceroth wasn't sure it was working.

[kysseh]

Felines were funny creatures, Savitri had decided. The feline seemed to be thoroughly absorbed in doting on Ka’rys, and she would have smiled but for the way Ka’rys took the creature off his head and cuddled it into his chest. She was instantly reminded of the way Virast had clung to Fish. Protection. Safety. Comfort. Instantly, the goldrider leaned away from the man, but he had already recoiled into the corner of the couch. She immediately lowered her gaze. She’d frightened him. Or upset him? Was he afraid or just… upset? She couldn’t tell, and it bothered her. Of course he wouldn’t outright tell her either. Not that she blamed him for that, in this case.

His words were less than reassuring, and Savitri just nodded once in acknowledgment. Phrased like that, it sounded like he did want her gone, and she wondered if that was perhaps the best option. She was on the path to an emotional outburst, and he was well on the road to walling himself off. Her sigh was very quiet as she recognized that his dismissal of her apology sounded very much like a rejection of it. She was trying, shardit, but she couldn’t fix what she couldn’t understand. Rys was… strange, hard to understand. Strange, but wasn’t it women who were normally like that?

At his admission of pain, her head shot up instantly, eyes wide with concern. All of that moving around could not have been good for it, and it took a significant force of will to avoid reaching for the ankle to ask to examine it. He would probably not appreciate it, she reasoned, and she did not want to cause any more… undesirable friction. At his request, she had to swallow the lump in her throat, forcefully pushing the unnecessary and unhelpful emotions aside. If he wanted to be out for the remainder of the evening and night, that was up to him. She was in no position to deny him painkillers, and a good dose or two of fellis would probably keep him off that ankle for the next several days.

“I’ve got some in my bag. If I use enough of the salve on your ankle, though, you’ll be… you’ll probably be out for quite awhile. I’ve got some willow bark that I can make a tea with. It’s not as strong, but you won’t feel the need to sleep until tomorrow afternoon,” she said, reaching out and snagging the strap of her bag with two fingers before dragging it closer. It was a decent distraction, she supposed. Healing she could do. It was physical, simple, basic. Action, reaction, if she wanted to really simplify it. She disliked simplifying her craft, though. The human side of it… that was what she enjoyed most of all. And right now, the human side of it had her wanting to cry. She repressed that urge. Barely. “It’s… up to you.”

Her gaze flicked over to the dragons on the ledge, and she cringed again. Hepaticath had tucked her wings in and carefully moved herself the teensiest fraction of a distance away from her bronze playmate. The young gold was obviously distressed, and Ciceroth, from what Hepaticath was telling her, was probably even more tense. Why? Because Savitri had opened her stupid mouth in honest, tactless inquiry. It was less than encouraging. “Do you want some pillows to prop it up? It might feel a bit better if you could rest it instead of sitting… like that.” As she spoke, she rummaged through her bag, digging out a jar of numbweed salve and another, much smaller jar. Willow bark. She doubted he would submit to the idea of tea, but it was worth a try. She disliked the idea of dosing him unconscious and then leaving him alone and unsupervised, and if he was going to kick her out once he was rid of his pain, then… no, that was not a concern. Yet.

[glamourie]

"I can't afford to just be unconscious for a day or two, Savitri. You know that." The full-name usage was clear indication to his upset, but his tone did not otherwise hint to how bothered he truly was. Slowly and surely he was regaining some of his composure. So long as the topic stayed off of... uncomfortable things, he'd be fine. Ka'rys was nothing if not resilient, after all. It was very hard to keep him down for long. When it came to feelings, he shut down better than the average person, and the more upset that feeling was, the easier it became. How much of his upset was him and how much was influenced by Ciceroth, he couldn't say, but he was slowly - slowly - swallowing it all. In a few candlemarks, he'd be back to normal, though whether or not that was a good thing was up to interpretation. Plenty of people would not agree that Ka'rys's idea of normal had any resemblance to the average person's, but perception was exactly that. At least he didn't feel quite like throwing up anymore. That was a step in the right direction as far as he was concerned. Vomiting was always a bad thing.

He meant what he said, though. He wasn't just trying to be difficult (although his hatred of pain relievers was notorious); Ka'rys really couldn't afford to sleep for so long. He had responsibilities in addition to taking care of himself. The biggest one was seven turns old, blue eyed, brown-haired and the spitting image of him. Just because she was with Z'hin for that day didn't mean that Kalerary would not come home and want to know what was wrong with her father... and he couldn't ask it of Savitri or Z'hin to take care of the girl. He also had to work on wing drill procedures at some point and he needed to oil Ciceroth (although the bronze did not appear to much mind being 'neglected'). He had a lot to do... most of it could be procrastinated for a few candlemarks, but not until the next day. That would be beyond irresponsible and for all of his flaws, that was not a term that could often be applied to Ka'rys.

"I think the tea would be better... if it isn't too much trouble?" he cocked his head to the side slightly, then looked down - almost as if shy. It felt awkward asking her for anything and Ka'rys made a mental note not to do so after she left - if it could be helped. He felt like a burden. Would he have felt that way before their conversation...? Before he went and opened his big mouth? No way to know for sure. Ka'rys wasn't sure he wanted to know. He felt bad enough as it was. Some part of his mind justified the pain from his ankle as being his punishment; it wasn't hurting all that bad before that. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The bronzerider crinkled his nose slightly and mentally berated himself. If he'd just followed his instincts, they'd be getting along just fine, probably still curled up together on the couch, but no, he had to go and try to tell her -- tell her what? Something useless. Something even he didn't want to think about.

He exhaled and brought one hand up to rub his eyes. His tension was undeniable and he didn't see a point in trying to hide that he was beginning to form a migraine. If Savitri chose to take that personally, it wasn't his problem. He was trying to make peace. He really was.

A quick look at his ankle was spared, and Ka'rys squinted slightly. "I'm supposed to be keeping it propped up anyway," he admitted, uncurling slightly in the process. It felt terrible to move out of his safe position, but he kept that from his face - or so he hoped. He did not want to admit how horrible he felt inside, and he wanted even less for Savitri to realize it. That in mind, he gently released Reggie, who moved right back to his head to go back to kneading. Rolling his eyes at the feline's antics, he turned his gaze back to the goldrider near him and bit the inside of his lower lip to avoid asking the question, "Are we going to be okay?" It seemed stupid, even to him. She'd probably scoff. At best, she'd think him unintelligent. He decided to keep it to himself.

You're worrying too much, Ciceroth commented. Ka'rys decided to be nice and not point out that the bronze moving away from Hepaticath made it clear he wasn't the only one upset, and Ciceroth chose to ignore that fact. He did uncurl slightly though, soothed by the fact that His, at least, was beginning to calm down... a little. Not completely yet, though...

[kysseh]

Savitri barely repressed a sigh at his use of her full name, closing her eyes in an attempt to force patience on herself. It was not working well. Yes, she knew full well that he had responsibilities. Kalerary, his wing, Ciceroth, himself… though probably not in that specific order of priority. She could have told him that, but making the current disagreement worse would not help matters. Besides, Ka’rys had already stated--though a tad snidely, to her ears--that he knew of her awareness of his responsibilities. That was a dead-end of a conversation, and she had no wish to bash her head against the brick wall at the end. Nothing good could come of that.

“Rys…” She didn’t deliberately use his nickname. It slipped out before she could help it. So much for being formally polite and appeasing him. “… it’s for you. It’s not too much trouble.” She wanted so badly to reassure him of that, but given how he had cringed away from her very presence, then perhaps keeping her distance was wise. Yes. That was a good plan. She silently touched on her firelizard’s mind in an attempt to make a request of the beast when Ras suddenly appeared from between and dropped on her shoulder, obviously sulking. It was obvious that making a request of the creature was a useless act, but Savitri gave it a silent go, unsurprised when Ras made a show of fussing over her wings and ignoring her. The constant stream of images at the back of her mind, though, suddenly changed in tone. As she opened up the jar of bark to investigate her supply, Shadow startled her by appearing above her head and dropping down to the top of her head, radiating such smugness that Savitri had to wonder what mischief he had gotten into.

Within a few moments, though--and she refused yet acknowledge the bronzerider’s tension and the fact that he was probably giving himself quite the headache--footsteps outside the weyr alerted her to the fact that Shadow, in place of Ras, had fulfilled her request. He was now posing atop her head in an obvious attempt to gain favor for this very rare show of obedience, and Savitri appropriately rewarded him with thanks in the form of one finger stroking down his back as she swept over to the doorway to intercept the drudge before the woman could enter. Such were the perks of having rank and not often abusing it, she noted.

After a quiet thanks, the goldrider brought the tray back to the bronzerider and settled herself again on the floor in front of him. “It’ll take a few minutes to steep. I ought to warn you it’s rather bitter,” she admitted, spooning the herbs into the pot of boiling water and then replacing the lid to let the dried bark do its work. She often used it when Aliscia’s training sessions were a tad too brutal. The greenrider, for all that she could be kind at times, was a merciless teacher. Savitri was grateful that Ka’rys had not seen her spectacular bruised face several sevendays before. He asked too many questions.

Oh, pillows!

In her fixation on getting him a pain relief, she had completely forgotten, and Savitri was immediately on her feet and making for his furs, snagging a fur and a blanket off what he called a ‘bed’ and she called a backache waiting to happen. She carefully folded the fur and then placed the pillow atop it, settling the ankle-prop on the couch and snorting softly as she caught sight of the feline kneading at the top of his head. “Either he loves you or he’s planning something. Devious creatures,” she said, though the affectionate note in her voice gave her away. She liked felines, Savitri did, even if they were… difficult. “Will this work for your ankle?” He was watching her, she noticed. Or had been. It was hard to tell with him sometimes. “… Rys?”

((Sorry, I got longwinded. x.o))

[glamourie]

Why, why, why did she have to say it like that? Like he was being difficult? He wasn’t trying to be. In fact, he was trying very hard to be easy to get along with. Hadn’t he given her a sufficient distraction from the topic that was so obviously discomforting for the both of them? Hadn’t he gone out of his way to make things peaceful by telling her the truth about him being in pain? She liked fussing! She enjoyed fussing over injuries - for anyone! … Or had he touched on a nerve? Maybe asking for help offended her, too. He didn’t know. Her words implied otherwise, but then, that she said them made him nervous. He averted his eyes to avoid having to look her in the face; if he was inconveniencing her, he didn’t deserve to meet her gaze. He was trying so hard, though, and it felt like nothing he did was right. Ka’rys very much wanted to curl up and go to sleep, and he almost wished he didn’t turn down the chance to be drugged into a stupor and not have to face all the feelings (so bizarre, they were) surging up inside him. What he wouldn’t have done to be incapable of feeling.

He didn’t speak. It seemed weird to say anything. However, in response, he did nod; it was acknowledgment, at least. His gaze flicked up toward Shadow, almost accusing, and then up toward Reggie again. The feline looked at Savitri, as though he recognized that he was being spoken about, and bristled before mrrrowing at her curiously. Clearly if she was going to talk about him, she’d better be willing to distribute the attention, too. However, at that exact moment, the feline spied Shadow and climbed onto the back of the couch. He padded along the back side of it, all the while watching the salamandyr with a curling tail that made it clear he was up to something. Even his movements were predatory, and it was undeniable what he intended to do if he got close enough. Little white lunch.

Ka’rys ignored the feline for the moment, instead staring at Savitri. He gently lifted his ankle to prop it up, in the process twisting himself into an awkward position. Once he got himself comfortable, he turned to look back at Savitri and bit the inside of his lip.

“I was sent here to make sure that Benden never managed to successfully take over Selenitas.” Evidently, he couldn’t completely drop the conversation. It hurt to talk about it, but he was… angry in some ways; he felt like he had to defend himself. “My assignment was very specific - to make sure that Selenitas stayed strong enough not to be taken over, but weak enough that Benden still distracted themselves with this Weyr. The more forces focused on Selenitas, the less on the war with Fort. That assignment ended with D’loro and Kamerai, and right after their deaths, Ciceroth caught Aslath.” To him it was a satisfactory answer; he was careful not to specify his feelings, because he didn’t think that Savitri would appreciate it. He was also slightly bitter, which was why he was elaborating -- part of him was angry. Very, very angry. “When we first met, you asked me what your responsibilities as Junior Weyrwoman were. Now you know exactly why I knew the traditional jobs… and what the hides you found were relating to, where I got them. You keep telling me that the secrets I keep, you not knowing might have been dangerous… well, you know now. Tell me, do you feel less in danger, Savitri, or more?” Maybe that last line was petty, but shard it, he deserved that shot for all the times she tried to press and wouldn’t listen when he tried to tell her it was a mistake. There was a reason he kept the secrets he did!

Lifting his head, Ciceroth turned to look at Hepaticath again before crooning weakly to her. Hepaticath… Rysmine did not want Yours to know this to protect her. He thought you would be in danger if you knew, both of you, he carefully offered. He was fairly sure that everything RysHis said was being transferred to the Gold, but he also suspected Hepaticath could be sensible. Knowing is dangerous - to us, to you. There are many people at that place who are dangerous to us. Rysmine is very worried, always. He does not leave the hatchling alone, and he fusses over Yours’ safety because of it. People close to him often die. The hatchling’s mother, Grenostith’s. He… He is angry with Yours because he feels… rejected? I do not understand; he believes she does not like him anymore, or want him around. Is this so? Trust him to ask outright, when Ka’rys would not. But Ciceroth was a very base creature. He did not want to push His to associate with Hepaticath’s if that was the case. It exhausted him to feel RysHis’s upset. There were no feelings worse he could describe.