Post by Avu on Aug 23, 2009 16:09:27 GMT -5
So apparently he…was not going to receive an answer? R’ahre’s nose crinkled slightly as he brought the sandwich to his mouth again to take another bite, chewing slowly; golden-brown eyes lingered on K’lir curiously. He didn’t want to hurt Ahth, though he didn’t think he would either…hum. If K’lir wouldn’t, maybe he’d just find someone who had a green Salamandyr who’d already Run and ask them. Sylph didn’t seem likely to break out in a Run in the immediate future, so he had at least a few days to find someone if it came down to that…funny, it was; that none of them had Run yet from the last clutch. He only knew personally Sprite, Sylph, and Skink, and he knew that none of the three had Run yet. Sylph and Skink he was more certain of than he was Sprite; maybe he’d ask Anz sometime…? Or…who else had a green Salamandyr? Nautic did, and surely Absinthe had Run at some point. Fine, that was good: He’d ask the pair of Candidates and see what they said, and if that didn’t help then he’d…he’d just deal with it as it came; it couldn’t be too bad…
“Make up a name, then,” R’ahre suggested absently, as soon as he’d swallowed the bite he’d taken out of the sandwich, which was distressingly kind of dry – maybe the sauce was a good thing after all. Hmph. His comment was less actual interest in the conversation, which had turned to more of a meaningless, pointless banter than anything else, in his opinion, since it was very obvious there were no goldriders wandering around in the kitchens, but it was something to do and he was bored. If it hadn’t been for the clanging, talking, screeching, etc., so common in the kitchens, he would have been bored to tears by now. Sandwiches were delicious and all, but it wasn’t…interesting. “Hmm. You know people actually pray to Faranth, right?” His eyes narrowed slightly, taunting. “Goldriders or not, when they get offended and…lynch you…” His tail trailed off meaningfully; a tilt of his head made it clear that he’d not be helping at all, and more likely than not just watching and laughing.
Kind of him, wasn’t it?
Regardless, K’lir’s deciding to pipe up made him tilt his head sideways to look at the greenweyrling, and he clicked his tongue thoughtfully at Sylph, watching the green edge hopefully towards the edge of the bowl (ditching the piece of meat she’d been sitting on; clearly that one was better because she didn’t have it yet) and trill at K’lir, though she didn’t speak or outright beg – that would be so undignified. K’sel’s glance was ignored in favor of a smooth, mechanical smile for K’lir, and he nodded. Getting up for Weyrling Lessons usually wasn’t a problem for him; R’ahre had always woken up early. That wasn’t to say he was cheerful in the mornings, but he did get up, usually before M’kai did (though not by much; at least he hadn’t gotten an incredibly lazy roommate, though). Taking another bite of his sandwich, he reached out to run one finger down Sylph’s back, the green arching her entire body upwards and purring, her gaze never leaving K’lir and the meat. “We’ll be there.” And he’d take Skink, too, if he could find her…
He will forget. The firmness in Ahth’s tone was partly made up of confidence; of course Baoth was better than That One. Anyone with eyes could see that…part of the confidence was also made up of ignorance, though; the idea of what would happen to His should Ahth die was unknown and it made little sense to the blue for K’lir to keep thinking about That One – hadn’t she proved that she wasn’t good enough when she left? The Showoff is correct. He can convince Yours to forget better than we can, I think. He knew That One, and neither of us did… It made sense to him; on a very practical level, they were both biased against Calistoth (Ahth namely because Baoth didn’t like That One rather than any actual personal dislike), and Showoff had known her – he could compare. Yours will understand that you are much better after we prove it. The compliment was not intended as flattery – as far as Ahth was concerned, it was nothing short of the truth. His gaze followed a pair of Drudges leaving the kitchens interestedly, head tilted to pick up the words, for a moment, before he turned back to Baoth and said softly, The Sylph will help. And her sistertwin will help as well. They will listen to me.
“Make up a name, then,” R’ahre suggested absently, as soon as he’d swallowed the bite he’d taken out of the sandwich, which was distressingly kind of dry – maybe the sauce was a good thing after all. Hmph. His comment was less actual interest in the conversation, which had turned to more of a meaningless, pointless banter than anything else, in his opinion, since it was very obvious there were no goldriders wandering around in the kitchens, but it was something to do and he was bored. If it hadn’t been for the clanging, talking, screeching, etc., so common in the kitchens, he would have been bored to tears by now. Sandwiches were delicious and all, but it wasn’t…interesting. “Hmm. You know people actually pray to Faranth, right?” His eyes narrowed slightly, taunting. “Goldriders or not, when they get offended and…lynch you…” His tail trailed off meaningfully; a tilt of his head made it clear that he’d not be helping at all, and more likely than not just watching and laughing.
Kind of him, wasn’t it?
Regardless, K’lir’s deciding to pipe up made him tilt his head sideways to look at the greenweyrling, and he clicked his tongue thoughtfully at Sylph, watching the green edge hopefully towards the edge of the bowl (ditching the piece of meat she’d been sitting on; clearly that one was better because she didn’t have it yet) and trill at K’lir, though she didn’t speak or outright beg – that would be so undignified. K’sel’s glance was ignored in favor of a smooth, mechanical smile for K’lir, and he nodded. Getting up for Weyrling Lessons usually wasn’t a problem for him; R’ahre had always woken up early. That wasn’t to say he was cheerful in the mornings, but he did get up, usually before M’kai did (though not by much; at least he hadn’t gotten an incredibly lazy roommate, though). Taking another bite of his sandwich, he reached out to run one finger down Sylph’s back, the green arching her entire body upwards and purring, her gaze never leaving K’lir and the meat. “We’ll be there.” And he’d take Skink, too, if he could find her…
He will forget. The firmness in Ahth’s tone was partly made up of confidence; of course Baoth was better than That One. Anyone with eyes could see that…part of the confidence was also made up of ignorance, though; the idea of what would happen to His should Ahth die was unknown and it made little sense to the blue for K’lir to keep thinking about That One – hadn’t she proved that she wasn’t good enough when she left? The Showoff is correct. He can convince Yours to forget better than we can, I think. He knew That One, and neither of us did… It made sense to him; on a very practical level, they were both biased against Calistoth (Ahth namely because Baoth didn’t like That One rather than any actual personal dislike), and Showoff had known her – he could compare. Yours will understand that you are much better after we prove it. The compliment was not intended as flattery – as far as Ahth was concerned, it was nothing short of the truth. His gaze followed a pair of Drudges leaving the kitchens interestedly, head tilted to pick up the words, for a moment, before he turned back to Baoth and said softly, The Sylph will help. And her sistertwin will help as well. They will listen to me.
