[M'try] Mohraith checks up on Liath.
RL Date: 1/26/10
IC Date: 11/13/21 --Log stolen from Nissa. :)
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith even tries to keep it from being a ridiculously loud bellow today, so considerate of him. It does still reverberate, though, like the beep-beep-beep of a big truck backing down an abandoned alley. << YOU OKAY, BABY?! >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath is startled wide awake, silent for a few beats (might be her slowing hearts), finally her waves wash storm-foam to mute his loud question, << Yes? I am lying in the sun beside Mecaith. >> The implication is, why wouldn't she be? But then... she's taking him literally, it seems.
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith tries to retreat a little after startling her but-- a) damage is already done, and b) his version of retreat is still about like hollering at someone across the room (instead of across the table). << Just checking. You need anything, you just let us know. Well, anything more than lying in the sun, seeing as you got that covered. >> And he approves, good for her.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath is awake now, so she doesn't mind his volume, instead her waves rise in attempt to match it with the roar of surf. Fun! Brightly, << You can fly with me when I go looking for her, maybe? >> Seething waters surge, then sigh retreating, << It helps me to try anyway. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith answers as brightly, << I'd be happy to! Just say the word. >> Probably not aware that this might be sharing too much-- << M'try says it's like looking for a needle in a whole hayfield, but it's also good exercise. >> There's a pause while he gets mentally bitch-slapped then, apologetically, << M'try also says that the Weyrleader probably knows in which haystack they ought to look, just that /we/ don't, so it's just the whole hayfield for us. Not for everyone. >> Moh: open mouth, insert foot.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath considers hayfields and shares a picture of skimming low, only a claw's tip above them while heading for an orchard, << Oh, I did that, but I wasn't really looking then. >> Though perhaps fun isn't high on her list of priorities right at the moment. Her waters stir a sandy bottom, clouding her thoughts with uncertainty, << The Weyrleader really shouldn't bother looking in haystacks, though. She's somewhere darker than that. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith imagines his own version of searching haystacks-- stomp stomp STOMPING them all flat and looking among the wreckage. It fails to occur to him that, if Vanissa were in among the hay, she'd be totally smashed-flat. << I'm pretty sure he doesn't mean haystacks for real, dollface. It's 'metaphor.' >> He can't really exact M'try in his Harper's goloss, but he tries anyway. << Somebody'll find her, don't worry. Maybe it'll be us! >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath rolls the word metaphor around in her waters, then allows it to wash up on the beach of Nissa's mind. Ah-HA! << She says haystacks are better for making out in than smashing, anyway. >> Amused, but perhaps that's a carryover from her lifemate's emotion, not hers. << I hope soon. I miss her. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith, predictably, << Well, tell her that, when she gets back, M'try says they can make out in a haystack, then. >> Beat. << He says they'll just have to be ready to pick the fleas off each other afterward. >> Gross thought, one that accompanies a mental twitchy-itch. << She'll turn up. >> Mohraith-certainty is not to be questioned!
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath has told hers and bubbles of laughter fizz and tickle through her waters, << She says if ya have fleas, ya ain't touchin' me! >> Passed on word for word, Neratian drawl complete with her rider’s wry, semi-sarcasm and a mental smirk added in place of the one he can't see. << She tells me she will return to Fort and with something that helps. >> Perhaps wishful thinking, that last bit there, on her rider's part.
IC Date: 11/13/21 --Log stolen from Nissa. :)
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith even tries to keep it from being a ridiculously loud bellow today, so considerate of him. It does still reverberate, though, like the beep-beep-beep of a big truck backing down an abandoned alley. << YOU OKAY, BABY?! >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath is startled wide awake, silent for a few beats (might be her slowing hearts), finally her waves wash storm-foam to mute his loud question, << Yes? I am lying in the sun beside Mecaith. >> The implication is, why wouldn't she be? But then... she's taking him literally, it seems.
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith tries to retreat a little after startling her but-- a) damage is already done, and b) his version of retreat is still about like hollering at someone across the room (instead of across the table). << Just checking. You need anything, you just let us know. Well, anything more than lying in the sun, seeing as you got that covered. >> And he approves, good for her.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath is awake now, so she doesn't mind his volume, instead her waves rise in attempt to match it with the roar of surf. Fun! Brightly, << You can fly with me when I go looking for her, maybe? >> Seething waters surge, then sigh retreating, << It helps me to try anyway. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith answers as brightly, << I'd be happy to! Just say the word. >> Probably not aware that this might be sharing too much-- << M'try says it's like looking for a needle in a whole hayfield, but it's also good exercise. >> There's a pause while he gets mentally bitch-slapped then, apologetically, << M'try also says that the Weyrleader probably knows in which haystack they ought to look, just that /we/ don't, so it's just the whole hayfield for us. Not for everyone. >> Moh: open mouth, insert foot.
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath considers hayfields and shares a picture of skimming low, only a claw's tip above them while heading for an orchard, << Oh, I did that, but I wasn't really looking then. >> Though perhaps fun isn't high on her list of priorities right at the moment. Her waters stir a sandy bottom, clouding her thoughts with uncertainty, << The Weyrleader really shouldn't bother looking in haystacks, though. She's somewhere darker than that. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith imagines his own version of searching haystacks-- stomp stomp STOMPING them all flat and looking among the wreckage. It fails to occur to him that, if Vanissa were in among the hay, she'd be totally smashed-flat. << I'm pretty sure he doesn't mean haystacks for real, dollface. It's 'metaphor.' >> He can't really exact M'try in his Harper's goloss, but he tries anyway. << Somebody'll find her, don't worry. Maybe it'll be us! >>
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath rolls the word metaphor around in her waters, then allows it to wash up on the beach of Nissa's mind. Ah-HA! << She says haystacks are better for making out in than smashing, anyway. >> Amused, but perhaps that's a carryover from her lifemate's emotion, not hers. << I hope soon. I miss her. >>
Dragon> To Liath, Mohraith, predictably, << Well, tell her that, when she gets back, M'try says they can make out in a haystack, then. >> Beat. << He says they'll just have to be ready to pick the fleas off each other afterward. >> Gross thought, one that accompanies a mental twitchy-itch. << She'll turn up. >> Mohraith-certainty is not to be questioned!
Dragon> To Mohraith, Liath has told hers and bubbles of laughter fizz and tickle through her waters, << She says if ya have fleas, ya ain't touchin' me! >> Passed on word for word, Neratian drawl complete with her rider’s wry, semi-sarcasm and a mental smirk added in place of the one he can't see. << She tells me she will return to Fort and with something that helps. >> Perhaps wishful thinking, that last bit there, on her rider's part.