Mud Pies [ Rwen ]

[rii]

"Oh."

Rulven blinked down at the what he first assumed to be a puddle, but in fact turned out to be a seemingly endless spot of sucking mud. Carelessly he had stepped into it during one of his usual trips into the jungle around the outdoor kitchens. Wood was a chore he saw to daily, kindly fetching it for the drudges. He currently had a good armload, and finding one of his legs currently stuck up to the knee in mud was a bit of a bother.

"That can't be good." With his other leg still on somewhat solid ground Rulven attempted to muscle his leg out. The woodpile in his arms wavered and he stopped. Shardit. Carefully Rulven craned his neck around to try and look for help. Oh how helpful it would have been to have a firelizard.. or salamandyr.. dragon even.. to ask for help–or to call for it.

"Anyone there?" He asked in a raised voice. The kitchen wasn't that far off, but Rulven wasn't sure how far his voice would carry through the jungle growth. A thoughtful frown crossed his features and he again peered down at the muck. It had been raining all of the previous day, not a surprise to find mud about. This seemed oddly deep though. A watery tunnel snake hole by chance? Probably lucky he didn't twist his ankle.

Groan. Rulven gritted his teeth and tried to force his leg out again. Inch by inch his large frame moved forward until, quite suddenly, the mud released his foot and sent the smith falling. The armload of wood was abandoned in a quick toss; freeing his hands to catch himself before his face could rudely meet with the muck–the same could not be said for the rest of his body. The smith let out a slow sigh of frustration, venting any possible anger out with the single exhale. The foot, that had previously been encaged in the earth, was bent upward to show that.. yes.. his sandal was missing.

It was nothing to get upset over, really, but a slight furrow formed on Rulven's forehead. The smith picked himself up onto knees and turned around to start.. digging in the mud in attempts to find his missing shoe.

[mierce]

In the days since his disaster with the plates and soup girl, Cerdic tried his best to not anger to head drudge with further slip ups. Of course with Cerdic any such attempts tend to dwindle down within a week, and sure enough today found him wandering away from the kitchens. Sure, he was on break, but he really shouldn’t be wandering too far away since break wasn’t very long after all. But he hasn’t really been outside the Weyr since arriving at Selenitas, and the jungle was just sooooo close!

He hesitated a moment at the tree line, then toed one foot in and then the next. A sheepish smile cracked on his lips. Well, that was easy, he thought carelessly and immediately started heading into the greenery. It was humid, but nothing could really be as bad as standing over a stove with the sun bearing down on his back. However, he wasn’t really able to wander far before he heard what sounded like struggling and mumbling. Fear wasn’t exactly one of his strong points, so Cerdic just walked straight towards the sound until he came upon Rulven digging through a mud pud —- er -- hole. He couldn’t see the other candidate’s face, but there was no mistaking that super large frame.

“Hi there!” he said, strolling up to the large young man and leaning over to peer down at the top of Rulven’s head. After a moment, he crouched down as well and noticed that the candidate’s arm was in the mud past the elbow. “Wow! This hole is deep. Whatcha doin’?” His grey eyes lit up. “Are you treasure hunting??!”

[rii]

A mud splattered face lifted to regard his company. Rulven stared at Cerdic blankly, wondering where the lad had been a few good moments ago when he needed help freeing himself from the muck. Useless to be irritated over, so after a moment Rulven gave the other a friendly smile. Besides, the fellow candidate (Rulven assumed that was where he had seen the boy before) didn't look to be able to shoulder the load of wood Rulven had wanted to hand off.

"I'm looking for–" Rulven lightly shook his head, momentarily baffled by the idea that he was treasure hunting. At first he thought Cedric to be making a jest, but the look on his young face told an entirely different story. But–oh–Rulven's fingers curled around his sought prize and he wretched it unceremoniously from the sodden earth. Mud flung at himself and present company, but that didn't detour Rulven from grinning. "Found it."

It hardly even looked like a sandel, more of a slowly dripping glob of thick mud. Rulven eased back up on his knees and shook the majority of muck off the shoe before sliding it back on his foot–and equally muddy digit. "Rulven by the way," The smith indicated himself before.. stretching out his muddied hand to the grey-eyed candidate. The grin on his face showed it had been an action done on purpose. No use trying to clean it off.

"What's your name again?"

[mierce]

Cerdic watched Rulven’s actions with great interest. His eyes widened in delight as the much larger man seemed to have snagged something, and his mouth parted in excitement as muddy arms pulled-----!

His face froze in the middle of forming a face-splitting grin. He blinked at the glob of mud that dangled from Rulven’s fingers. With each dallop of mud that plopped back into the puddle, the grin cracked a little more until it couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than grand disappointment.

“That’s no treasure.” Thank you, Captain Obvious.

If he ought to have been ashamed for overacting, the thought didn’t even graze the boy’s thoughts. Instead he smirked at Rulven putting a muddy sandal on his muddy feet, only to proceed to extend a muddy hand out. Cerdic’s own hand was fairly clean, but he and mud, they go back turns. Turns! Like old friends.

“The name’s Cerdic,” he said enthusiastically as he trust a hand out for a shake. The mud squished between their palms making the most rude of noises. He laughed as he let go, then pulled out a towel he had tucked in a belt loop and held it out for Rulven. It was a little greasy since he used it to handle heavy plates and platters, but he imagined it couldn’t possibly be worse than having a mud splattered face.

He gestured with his other hand towards the haphazardly discarded logs. “So I take it you’re on woodchoppin’ duty or something?” he asked, peering curiously at Rulven’s bulky form beneath the muddy clothes. Were those muscles, or was Rulven just that large? “Need help?”

[rii]

Quite the expressive young fellow. Rulven noted this by the play of emotions rising and falling on Cedric's face – all to fast for the former smith to really understand; aside from the overwhelming pep radiating off the youth. It made him feel tired and he had just met the other male. Although, seeing Cedric as a mere child gave Rulven the urge to smear a glob of mud over his head – in play.

"I don't think the towel is going to help much.. " He mused while gesturing to his front side that was caked in the muck. It didn't bother him as much as it might others. Likely he'd get a earful from the kitchen drudges, scolding him seem to be a favored pastime because he would just smile and nod to their tongue lashings – as pointless and irrelevant as they usually were. Don't hover around the stew pots. Tch, fussy women.

"Might as well save it to clean yourself. I'll just jump in the river later." Rulven rose to his feet. He eased over to drier ground and began the task of picking up the logs – of which he handed off to Cedric; fully expecting the youth to help out even before the other candidate offered. Not like it would hurt the lad to lend a hand. Such a scrawny youth. Probably was one of those that skipped out on daily weyr duties.

An eyebrow rose at the question. "Something like that. I like to help out the drudges, and they don't seem to mind." He patted Cedric on the shoulder, coloring the candidate's shoulder in the mud. Alright, so the smith couldn't resist dirtying the other a little bit. "It has it's rewards. Typically in the fashion of sweet pies."

More wood was being handed over, part of Rulven was curious to see how much the boy could carry – of if he'd actually speak up and ask him to stop. People could be quite stubborn at times.. or oblivious. "So what are you doing out here. Treasure hunting?"

[Ooc: Ehh, feel free to kick me /disown me for not posting.]

[mierce]

Cerdic had barely an opportunity to hold out his arms before the big fellow started dropping cleaved logs onto him. He teetered a bit in trying to balance the first few logs, but eventually found a comfortable wide stance with which to keep his balance.

"Sweet pies? They must like you to some degree. All I hear are the drudges yelling and shrieking about one thing or another. Nyah nyah this nyah nyah that." An image of the headchef waving a wooden spoon around swirled through his mind and he had to laugh despite more wood getting piled into his arms. Wait what?

He felt his arms strain in complaint ans another log went on top of those ones he already had. Any more and Cerdic could only imagine them being all on the floor again, except this time he'd be sprawled underneath the mess as well. Quickly, he stepped to the side, sending the topmost two pieces in his arms tumbling off and the one Rulven was jjuuuuussssttt about to give him clattering on the ground.

"Oohh, I'm just taking a break from kitchen duty," he said with a disdainful drawl on the last two words. He feigned a sneeze, sending another log from his pile to the ground, then casually slinked sideways in the general direction of the kitchen. "Was hoping to do some explorin' or something. Been here about a month or so and still haven't seen much of anything."

[rii]

"It wasn't always that way.."

Rulven tried to hide his amused smile as he continued to stack the logs. "And a lot of the time they still do give my arm a good smack." Secretly he was convinced some of the women just liked the idea of behind able to push him around even if they had no reason. Benden women in particular – something along the lines of having men always shove them around and having the roles reversed pleased them. It was a bit sickening to think about, but Rulven was good at the smile and nod dance. He'd rather not have the wrath of a woman scorned directed at him.

He was just about to drop another log when Cerdric moved away – the ex-smith's smile stretched in response. "But you know.. if you make an effort to help them out, on your own time instead of just doing it to please Emoyan and his assigned chores, you'll find that people – even spoon-wielding drudges – are grateful for the help. They may not say anything that sounds appreciative, but I think the earned sweet pies speak well enough."

Moving around, Rulven gathered a quick load of wood into one arm and followed after Cedric's lead. Well, more as to make sure the younger candidate actually went to the kitchens and not just ditch the load alongside the walking path. "Taking a break, or making a break for it?"

The tone wasn't accusing, and Rulven kept the friendly smile up to make sure Cedric didn't take his light tease the wrong way – in case the youth even looked back or could see much of anything with the load in his arms. "You really shouldn't go too far out into the jungle, because I don't know how much.. you know.. but people have been disappearing sporadically. It seems them walk out into the trees and just.. vanish. If want to see something neat I suppose you could ask one of the dragonriders to take you for a flight. Some of them are actually nice."

[mierce]

Cerdic chuckled at Rulven's suggestion that the drudges would ever be appreciative of him. "After that incident with the soup girl, I'm pretty sure they're set on being upset with me forever." He sighed regretfully at the memory. She was a pretty girl, too. Now, she the only time she spares him a glance is to make sure she steers clear of his path. "It seems like they're perpetually angry at everyone, anyway."

They started on their way back toward the kitchen. A few times, Cerdic had to pause in his steps and readjust the weight of the logs. It must be great to be as strong as Rulven, he mused, his brows drawing deep in concentration. When the smith tossed a jesting accusation at him, Cerdic reflexively spun around, eye exaggeratively wide in shock. "Moi?! Make a break for it? Of course not!" Except, he couldn't exactly see around his load. In fact, all his action served to accomplish was knocking another piece of firewood to the ground.

Oops.

He sheepishly ducked behind his pile and continued walking. "Oh, I know the jungle is dangerous," he said matter-of-factly, completely disregarding Rulven's warning. "My sister is a dragonrider, and she told a lot of stories about the exciting things she did while here." A smile spread across his face as he reflected on her animated narrations, complete with full-body miming and sound effects. "She has a blue dragon... Zangath, I think is his name."

Just thinking about the dragon made Cerdic's heart flutter in a bombardment of barely constrained emotions. "I can't wait to stand at the hatching! I hope I get a big dragon. One that's really fast!" he exclaimed. His eyes glittered as he tilted his head back to glance at Rulven. "What about you?"

[rii]

Rulven's brow arched. He mildly eyed the discarded log in passing, his mind silently wondering how many pieces Cedric would manage to get back to the kitchens. If he had to guess, the number four came to mind. Four of the skinniest twigs. The thought brought a half-grin to the smith's face – that or the oh-so-innocent denial of attempting to skirt assigned kitchen duties. It struck him as sarcastic (perhaps he had spent too much time around that harper) but Rulven said nothing to start a debate – merely gestured onward with his free hand.

"So what happened with the soup girl?" He opted to question to move past the the glaring obvious – in Rulven's point of view anyway. He was rather bull-headed and once he got an idea in his mind it was near impossible to make him change it. "I doubt it's anything that would keep them angry at you. I got into a fight in the kitchens, broke some guy's hand in the process. They still like me – just a funny way of showing it."

Again the eyebrow began to inch upward as he listened to the exuberant youth. The kid probably absorbed all the fanciful stories from his sister and disregarded all the dangers and warnings. Because poisoning weyrwoman, attacking felines, the siege from Benden, the strange disappearances – those spoke so greatly of excitement and adventure. Rulven frowned at his inner thoughts. When did he get so pessimistic? He had never been that way before coming to the Weyr..

Rulven pushed down that strange, darker side of his thoughts and matched Cedric's smile. Really, the youth's energy should be contagious, not cause the former smith into trying to balance out the pep with critical views. "Well," Rulven said in a more neutral tone to even out Cedric's excitement. "The smaller ones are actually the fastest – but they're all pretty big; especially compared to you."

Rulven tilted his head at the candidate gazing upside down at him. He gave the other an exaggerated shrug of broad shoulders. "I try not to think about it, don't want to get my hopes up and be disappointed in the end." Of course, currently his disappointment would come with actually impressing to anything. Rulven was about to elaborate but he suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Watch out—" for that tree.

[mierce]

“I uh… bumped into the soup girl, and she became a soupy girl…” Cerdic offered. The scene replayed itself in his head. The look on her face… oh, that look of absolute murderous intent. Despite it all, his lips twitched into a half smile at the memory that was both terrible and amusing. “She’s so mad, I haven’t even been able to get close enough to apologize with her starting to throw things at me.” A bit of an exaggeration, of course; he just had rotten vegetables hurled in his general direction, but none actually connected.

Rulven’s comment about dragon size and speed, however, served as enough to distract him from the memory of the soup girl. Once again, Cerdic’s eyes widened at the new information. “Really?” he inquired. “I thought the bigger ones would be stronger and could fly faster! Hmm…” He pondered his new information a bit. Was this guy just messing with his head? Cerwain did that a lot when they were younge---

He stopped mid step. “Hey! Are you calling me puny?” he asked with mock offense. Studying an upside-down Rulven, Cerdic supposed that most people would be considered small to the smith. Still, he was just human. “Feh. They’re bigger than you to---“

Words of another sort began forming on the smith’s lips. Cerdic lifted an eyebrow, now quite understanding the sudden swerve in conversation. He was just about to stand fully upright again when he felt the knuckles of his fingers smash into something rather hard. The pain seared through his hand but he had barely any time to consider it and stop his body’s forward motion when suddenly the collection of logs decided to fly in his face.

He gave a startled cry as his legs continued to move forward while his torso topped backwards. The world became very quiet and he watched the logs levitate a moment above him as he slowly fell back. Could he get out of the way? Maybe he ought to bring his arms up? He blinked at the chopped firewood, wondering briefly how large the splinters were.

Then as slowly as the world became, suddenly everything sped up again. The moment Cerdic felt his shoulders hit the ground, he quickly closed his eyes and brought his arms up to shield his head and chest just as the first of the logs crashed atop of him.

The distinctive sound of wood against wood and wood against earth echoed around him. It went on for so long Cerdic wondered if the rain of timber was every going to end. Eventually, the clamoring stopped and the boy dared open an eye to survey the disaster around him.

[rii]

Rulven at first cringed – hoping the youth would stop in time and just ditch the load of logs to save his body from harm. Instead the worst of scenarios unfolded. The former smith dropped his own armful and did his best to shield the kid from getting pelted. He couldn't catch them all, but guarding Cedric's head from a heavy blow took priority.

Great, back to the start. The mental number of four quickly ticked down to zero.

Rulven sighed quietly under his breath and crouched beside the smaller candidate. "Are you okay?" He nudged lightly at Cedric's arm. Rulven was a smith, not a healer. His form of checking the status of an object or person revolved around inquiring pokes. As far as he could tell the kid looked in proper health. Rulven cocked his head to the side and gave the other a lazy smile. "If I didn't know better, I'd accuse you of trying to get out of helping me."

Standing, Rulven extended his hand down to the fallen figure. "And yeah, the greens and blues are the faster dragons, but bronzes and golds can fly longer. Browns seem to get stuck somewhere in the middle." See, he paid attention in lessons – sometimes. It was his second time to endure them.

Once the other was back onto to feet, Rulven gathered the fallen wood for a third time. At least this time he left it up to Cedric whether to aid in the task, or simply skip out on the manual labor. "How about.. we find your soup girl.. and you can apologize. I promise not to let her throw anything at you. Hm?"

[mierce]

Aside from two pieces that fell nearly vertically and stabbed Cerdic in the gut, it would appear that most of the logs had deflected away from him. He considered this phenomenon with curiosity, then realized that the large smith hovering over him had in fact used his own body as a shield. Concern flashed across grey eyes and Cerdic promptly rolled over. A sharp pain shot through his left shoulder but he held back a wince and took to examining Rulven. There were quite a collection of old scars and burn marks littered across the smith's arms, but he didn't seem to have suffered much from the torrential downpour </exaggeration> of firewood. Amazing!

"I'm fine," he said reassuringly despite his shoulder. It wasn't that bad. He could move it after all. "You sure move fast for someone your size. I guess the thing about big dragons going slower don't really apply to us humans, huh?" A nervous smile crept onto the boy's lips as he accepted a hand to get back up to his feet. "Thank you~~~"

Was he really trying to avoid helping? Of course not. He knelt down to gather the wood together for Rulven. See, right now he was helping pick up the firewood.

"I'm not trying to shirk out form helping you," he said firmly with a mock pout. "I just couldn't see." As if to prove his sincerity, he collected some of the scattered pieces in as two stacks as neat as he could manage, then gathered them as two armfuls. Or so he tried. His hands weren't quite trained for gripping such large objects and a few pieces slipped from his grasp. He fumbled a bit, but tightened the loop of his arms around the wood.

He eyed Rulven a bit longer as if (playfully) challenging the older boy to dare accuse him of trying to get away with not doing any work. Discipline wasn't really in his vocabulary, but that didn't mean Cerdic was completely irresponsible!

"Do you need to go to the infirmary?" the boy inquired of the smith as the other collected his own (now slightly larger) pile. "You're strong, but that must have hurt, blocking the wood. I'm sure the soup girl won't be going anywhere any time soon."

[rii]

Rulven openly stared at the concerned Cedric showed. Amusement shone softly in the smith's hazel eyes as he smiled. So it seemed there was hope for people yet – not every single one seemed completely self-absorbed. As for his own well being, Rulven looked down at his arms and gave a dismissive shrug. Not bleeding, no bruises, he'd be fine.

"Oh?" The smith watched with no short amount of humor as the younger candidate stubbornly gathered up the wood. If the lad wanted to prove him wrong, Rulven wasn't going to stop him. As long as the wood got back to the kitchens without another incident the smith would be happy. "Alright, alright." Rulven softly surrendered under Cedric's pointed look, raising an open palm up to add effect. "I believe you."

The kitchens were coming into sight, Rulven made a silent gesture toward one of the low wood piles. Cedric's infirmary comment earned a lopsided grin with a side-long glance at the shorter candidate. "I'd rather not have my ears abused because I came in to have a bruise fussed over." The second part he added in all seriousness. "They're less friendly than the kitchen staff."

He began to neatly stack the logs in with the stock pile. Next he began to take the logs out of Cedric's arms before the kid could drop them. "And it's not a good enough excuse for you to avoid soup girl. Which one is she?"

[mierce]

Cerdic tilted his head as Rulven relieved him of the logs. A smile quirked at the corner of his lips as if unsure of whether it was appropriate to reveal itself. “Maybe you should start crafting making bandages for the healers in your free time, then,” he suggested in all seriousness. “They’re probably so good at that that it’s boring to make simple bandages.” Of course. He nodded at his own intelligence and began tapping a finger on his chin as soon as a hand was free. “Maybe I should start doing that!”

He didn’t have long to consider the brilliance of this plan when he saw one of the head drudges give him a dirty look. He met her eyes and flashed a cute smile while gesturing towards the wood he had helped bring back. Seeeee Not slacking! The drudge pursed her lips and wagged her wooden spoon in his direction, then returned to her work.

When Rulven brought up the soup girl again, Cerdic felt a slight flare of panic spark in his chest. “Ehh…” he began, now twiddling his thumbs together as he glanced about the kitchen. Rationally, he couldn’t even explain why he was so averse to accepting the smith’s help in talking to this girl. It’s not like he had a crush on her or anything. Or something. Nothing.

He bit his lip, then pointed at a brunette who was at the moment in the midst of bussing tables. She moved quickly, her curly and not soupy hair bouncing behind her as she danced between tables. She looked real busy actually. Yeah.

“Well, that’s her. But now is probably not a good time.” He laughed then, suddenly imagining the girl freaking out at throwing an entire tray of steaming hot foodstuff at his face.

[rii]

Rulven didn't have the heart to tell Cedric that making bandages was for people who couldn't handle more physically strenuous labor. Or, in short, busy work for women. The smith didn't want to sound rude, he just had a very set state of mind about certain things. And as stubborn as his stance could be, Rulven wasn't going to budge on the ideals any time soon.

"You could, I suppose, if you want to be in the good graces of the infirmary staff – but I'm serious when I say they're worse than the kitchen. Tripping up there can be a sevenfold times worse than spilling soup on a girl here." He leveled a very humorless gaze on the young candidate. "I dare say they'll eat you alive."

The wood neatly stacked, Rulven laid a hand on Cedric's shoulder and began easing him in the direction of the soup girl. "Between you and me, I'd rather brave the smack of a wooden spoon than whatever the healer staff might wield." And a rather peculiar staff at that. No, Rulven did not want to think what punishment they could enforce.

Blushing, Cedric was definitely blushing. Rulven just smiled as they neared the busy drudge. She was a bit occupied, but as soon as they became an obstacle, Rulven stepped forward and relieved her of the full bin of dirty dishes. "Allow me. Sarah–" Naturally, the ever hungry smith knew nearly all the people that inhabited the kitchens. "–you know my friend Cedric?"

He turned, shifting his gaze onto the youth. "He's been wanting to say something to you, if you have a moment." And, Rulven noted with private amusement, he had taken away the dishes, which might have served as ammunition. Nope, empty handed and – well, Rulven didn't pay too much mind to her expression. Women were fickle things and if they wanted to pretend to be angry, that was their deal.