Post by Avu on Feb 2, 2011 18:37:34 GMT -5
Yeah, she supposed they could sell them, and yet…it still felt a little like sacrilege, coming into a Weyr they’d never known before and blazing their brand new paths through the hallways and rooms. They had been private places once, and now they…weren’t. Not that with so few people they were anywhere near pushing the limits of what Burimyu could hold—a problem in itself; a Weyr was not autonomous without a good deal more people, and a variety of people at that, and they very well couldn’t ask the Holds to tithe to them if they couldn’t actually offer them anything in return, not when Selenitas was taking care of Threadfall (wasn’t it—they had to be) and not when they were not supposed to exist.
Would have been thoughts for another time, if it had not been Burimyu, if every moment didn’t feel like a stolen one. Meira nodded, allowing Bevany to precede her to the door and shutting it behind them again once she was out in the hallway, Mimic’s heartbeat settling against her wrist once the dim light spilled over them again. She turned automatically in the direction of the Main Hall, glancing over at Bevany—hopefully she hadn’t offended the girl by cutting off the time in the room. She’d get Jingth to ask someone to see to it that places with things of potential value were locked, just in case. Not guarded like the Archives—even finding this particular room had been a fantastic chance, so there was really no need—but locked anyway.
“If you want to grab food and head to the Infirmary,” she ventured to suggest, because Meira really, really was interested in having people help out in the Infirmary, for however long they could possibly spare, was not just going to never bring it up again, “You could see what goes on in there? Jingth would be interested in seeing you, too,” she added, and shrugged, gaze flicking sideways as the low hum of the Main Hall became audible. Could only be heard so close—not like Selenitas, where the sounds of people started as a subterranean rumble that gradually became the distinct sounds of voices and cutlery clinking against plates. Here it was barely audible, and then you were there.
“I don’t know exactly what time it is—but E’rro’s probably on shift too, if you want to talk to him about dragonhealing.” She’d just recently startled dragonhealing due to their huge lack of them. It’d make reaching Journeyman as a Healer slower, but Meira didn’t really need the knots, and the Weyr needed more Healers. So. Not a hard decision.
He is, Jingth told her. The gold was spending more and more time in the Infirmary rather than her own ‘ledge when they were not allowed to fly for fear of being seen; more happened there, Ismaroth was often there to keep her company, and it was just better. Staying on one ‘ledge, being limited by mind-speech—it all made Jingth very irritable. /Please/ bring her. I’m /so/ bored. Nobody’s gotten hurt at all. Diarrhea of the mind, now that Hers was out of the room and on her way back; the gold’s unspoken unheard exhale hummed through her mind.
Inhale and you got tension; exhale and you got relief. Familiar patterns, now.
Would have been thoughts for another time, if it had not been Burimyu, if every moment didn’t feel like a stolen one. Meira nodded, allowing Bevany to precede her to the door and shutting it behind them again once she was out in the hallway, Mimic’s heartbeat settling against her wrist once the dim light spilled over them again. She turned automatically in the direction of the Main Hall, glancing over at Bevany—hopefully she hadn’t offended the girl by cutting off the time in the room. She’d get Jingth to ask someone to see to it that places with things of potential value were locked, just in case. Not guarded like the Archives—even finding this particular room had been a fantastic chance, so there was really no need—but locked anyway.
“If you want to grab food and head to the Infirmary,” she ventured to suggest, because Meira really, really was interested in having people help out in the Infirmary, for however long they could possibly spare, was not just going to never bring it up again, “You could see what goes on in there? Jingth would be interested in seeing you, too,” she added, and shrugged, gaze flicking sideways as the low hum of the Main Hall became audible. Could only be heard so close—not like Selenitas, where the sounds of people started as a subterranean rumble that gradually became the distinct sounds of voices and cutlery clinking against plates. Here it was barely audible, and then you were there.
“I don’t know exactly what time it is—but E’rro’s probably on shift too, if you want to talk to him about dragonhealing.” She’d just recently startled dragonhealing due to their huge lack of them. It’d make reaching Journeyman as a Healer slower, but Meira didn’t really need the knots, and the Weyr needed more Healers. So. Not a hard decision.
He is, Jingth told her. The gold was spending more and more time in the Infirmary rather than her own ‘ledge when they were not allowed to fly for fear of being seen; more happened there, Ismaroth was often there to keep her company, and it was just better. Staying on one ‘ledge, being limited by mind-speech—it all made Jingth very irritable. /Please/ bring her. I’m /so/ bored. Nobody’s gotten hurt at all. Diarrhea of the mind, now that Hers was out of the room and on her way back; the gold’s unspoken unheard exhale hummed through her mind.
Inhale and you got tension; exhale and you got relief. Familiar patterns, now.