What Danger Adds
Who: Hattie and G'dri
[ Elaruth ]
When: Mid-morning of day 17, month 8, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Lakeshore
What: Hattie nearly hits G'dri with a stray scrub brush. Despite that, they talk storms, drills and Fall. Stolen from Hattie. ♥
Mid-morning, or thereabouts, and the sky is getting steadily darker as the clouds pile higher and the thunder rumbles ominously. The air is thick with that oppressive buzz that builds just before a good whopper of a storm, caught in that span of time where the world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the break to finally come. Sensible weyrfolk are already scuttling indoors, battening down anything that needs it, finishing up those duties that absolutely cannot wait. Sensible weyrfolk, and one dragonrider just circling around the edge of the lake nearest to the herb gardens, sending a teenaged girl running ahead with his jacket draped over her shoulders just-in-case. G'dri seems less hurried, tilting his face into the rising wind with an expectant expression on his face. Though, lacking somewhat in the invigorated delight of a storm-watcher.
People are usually told that there are things that you don't do in a storm or when there's a particularly nasty one brewing in the skies, such as standing under trees, waving metal objects about above one's head, and it's quite possible that bathing a dragon in a large expanse of water is somewhere on the list too. Undeterred thus far, it's only now that Hattie looks to be having second thoughts about lingering in the water with her queen, who shivers and eyes the sky far more often than her rider. All in all, Elaruth really does look quite distressed, but she doesn't move except for her shivering. A brush gets thrown towards the shore and Hattie belatedly checks to see whether she's going to accidentally hit someone with it, which prompts a, "Sorry!" belted in G'dri's direction whether she gets close to bludgeoning him or not.
Bathing a dragon won't go entirely unnoticed, especially not when queens are, by size and by colouring, incredibly hard to miss. While action alone might have drawn a bemused glance, it's possibly the distress that brings those deep lines forming between bold brows. At the least, the drawing of his attention in that direction means he won't get wholloped with a flying scrub brush, hopping backwards with arms spreading as if that'll help avoid the missile. "Woah!" Exclamation of startlement rather than reproach, and he turns shortly after to follow its descent and pick it up off the sand. "Everything okay out there?" Concerned for the state of this his junior queen and her rider.
There's another, "Sorry!" from Hattie, who looks a little bemused at having uttered two apologies in the space of less than a minute. If she was going to say anything further, she's temporarily prevented from doing so when Elaruth nudges her, then again with enough force to send her off-balance and tottering forward a couple of steps. That signals the end of the attempt at a bath and the weyrwoman heads for the shore without argument, her dragon effortlessly reaching sand before she does, still shivering. "Yes, thank you," Hattie eventually manages, approaching G'dri through the shallows. "It's just the..." She points at the sky. "The different pressure and all that. She can feel it. She's alright."
G'dri waves his hand at the second apology, his smile deepening the lines at the corners of his eyes. "It's alright, truly. While perhaps not usually on a day like to today, it's a risk all who walk on the lake shore take during these warmer months. I would not have been the first, nor would I likely have been the last to fall afoul of an errant scrub brush." His humour is quiet, but genuine. He steps forward to meet her, though not so far as to get his boots wet, and offers said brush back to her once they've reached a distance close enough to do so. "Ah, I see. They are more sensitive to such changes than we."
"You make it sound like a sport," Hattie laughs, trying to keep her grin toned down to a minimum. "If it's sunny tomorrow, I might steal five minutes away to see if any poor unsuspecting amblers get beaned over the head by flying scrub brushes." One hand reaches for the brush just as she steps out of the water completely. "Thank you," she says quietly. The sky receives a longer look, her head tipped back to peer at dark clouds. "Something tells me this kind of weather would make good flying were it not for the risks. And, well..." She nods back towards Elaruth and reaches her other hand out to touch it gently to the gold's nose when she approaches. "I doubt she'd appreciate it. I don't know if anyone /does/ go flying in storms?"
G'dri tips his head back and laughs in enjoyment of that idea. "It isn't -so- common," he allows afterwards. "But it has been known to happen on occasion when someone failed to look or to shout a warning. I fear I may have been the one doing the beaning a time or two, even." A nod is given in return to her thanks, think nothing of it quality in gesture and expression. "The winds are dangerous, unpredictable, yes. In the worse weather and stronger winds so high, the sudden change could at the least strain wings, if not snap entire. Though I believe there are always some, mostly among the young, reckless and unheeding of their own mortality, who do take such risks and believe them to be glorious challenges." The gravity of disapproval hangs in his tones, but there's also too some level of understanding for such wildness. Lightening somewhat, a tilt of interest, "If perhaps one could exclude all risk from the experience, is such flying something you think you might enjoy?"
"I don't suppose you could oblige me and feign a great accident between innocent bystander and thrown inanimate object if ever the opportunity presents itself?" Hattie questions, obviously joking from the look in her eyes even if she's successful in banishing all traces of a smile. She takes a moment or two to consider her answer to the latter with another look up at the sky. "I don't know," she says honestly. "I think it might be fun. But more suited to a smaller dragon, I think. She might find it interesting, but odds are she'd be overwhelmed by it quite quickly. And I wouldn't want to distress her unnecessarily." Despite the attempted bath and shivering queen. "Yourself?"
"Would I be required to the bystander, or the one throwing the inanimate object?" G'dri rejoinders, by contrast his smile coming readily, blue eyes twinkling with humour. More sober for the rest, his lips are pursed consideringly, "Possibly. A larger dragon might be better able to ride the winds without being tossed about, whereas a smaller one such as my Khameth, would be at the mercies of each shift and change." His gaze drifts then from Hattie to Elaruth, again with consideration, even as he thinks about his own reply. "When we were younger, Khameth and I did enjoy some adventurous flying. If there wasn't such risks involved, of injury or even, death, I think we would quite enjoy facing a storm such as this, together."
"The one lobbing the inanimate object, of course," Hattie deadpans, though a second or two later she has to look away and grins down at the sand. The grin isn't exactly gone by the time she looks up again, now joined by a slight dip to her brows. "Wouldn't that be part of the fun, though? Being at the mercy of those changes and not knowing what might happen next?" She blinks and studies G'dri for a long moment. "I'm sorry, that must sound awful. I don't mean it out of context and I know I've never flown Fall and-" And she shuts up and stares at the ground once more.
G'dri chuckles, "In that case, I fear I must disappoint you, weyrwoman. I would take a hit for you," and he gives a playful little half-bow, "but downing an innocent I cannot do." And, cheerfully when she looks back up, he winks. His head gets tipped to the side as she continues, before he shakes his head. "There is no need to apologize. While there are some who might take such questions with offence, I am not one of them. And for one so inclined, you are correct, I think." He now, lifts his eyes to sky to frown thoughtfully at the roiling clouds. "There is much unpredictability during a 'Fall, it is true. And, those who are honest will tell you that there can be enjoyment in even that. In facing the threat, surviving it, defeating it. Within the fear, there was invigoration, a satisfaction in doing what we were meant to."
She doesn't apologize again and fingers curl tightly around the brush, which does nothing to help that Hattie looks like she can't quite decide whether to look remorseful or angry with herself even with such assurance. "I guess drills are never quite the same. I..." She's started down this line of questioning, so she must decide she might as well go for it. "I mean, without the fear. You know you're doing what you're meant to do, and you've achieved something at the end of it, but you haven't... survived it?"
G'dri settles a little, hands sliding into his pockets as he stands by mildly, giving Hattie what time she may need. Waiting until she speaks again, and only then will he turn his eyes more fully to take in her face. "If destroying rope can be seen as an achievement, though there is also something to be said just for keeping the knowledge, the skills, fresh." Several more moments are allowed to pass, his brow furrowing with some thought. Once asked, he will give the truest answer he can, within his experience. "It is the element of actual danger, that creates the difference. Of course even within drills accidents can and do happen, but the situation there is not the same, either. Once within a true 'Fall, there is not much time for true thought. Training and instinct, reactions ingrained within us and bred within our dragons. There is no safe period, no space of time to consciously observe that the Thread is falling *thus*," and here he demonstrates with the slanting of one hand through the air after he retrieves it from his pocket, "and so you must move in *this* particular fashion to meet it. Thinking comes before, and after, but never during. Not in the way thinking is normally considered as being."
Hattie listens attentively, unmoving save for eyes darting sharply after hands. There's a pause before she can reply and when she does, the sharpness has faded from her gaze. "In drills, you're worrying about getting it right because you're meant to get it right, not because you think or know that if you don't, you're in trouble. Everyone's in trouble. Well, you are, but not the same kind. It must be an... entirely different path of thought. Almost /too much/ thinking and not enough doing..." But what could she possibly really know about the difference? says the unnatural hesitance woven through her words. Elaruth leans down to nudge at her rider's shoulder more plaintively now, then begins to inch backwards towards the Bowl proper in the direction of her ledge. "I really should take her home," Hattie says quietly. "And that aside, I shouldn't keep you out here when that," the sky; the storm, "could hit at any moment."
For Hattie's observations, G'dri has an expression of interest and approval both. When she hesitates, he smiles encouragingly, nodding. "You're very perceptive," he compliments her. Then with another nod, an accepting one this time and accompanied by another sympathetic glance for Elaruth, "It has been a pleasure speaking with you. Good day to you." He will start across the bowl himself, angling for the inner caverns though, since it seems his blue has decided to hole up without coming to collect him first. Ah well, he needs to find where his jacket's run off to, anyway.
[ Elaruth ]
When: Mid-morning of day 17, month 8, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Lakeshore
What: Hattie nearly hits G'dri with a stray scrub brush. Despite that, they talk storms, drills and Fall. Stolen from Hattie. ♥
Mid-morning, or thereabouts, and the sky is getting steadily darker as the clouds pile higher and the thunder rumbles ominously. The air is thick with that oppressive buzz that builds just before a good whopper of a storm, caught in that span of time where the world seems to be holding its breath, waiting for the break to finally come. Sensible weyrfolk are already scuttling indoors, battening down anything that needs it, finishing up those duties that absolutely cannot wait. Sensible weyrfolk, and one dragonrider just circling around the edge of the lake nearest to the herb gardens, sending a teenaged girl running ahead with his jacket draped over her shoulders just-in-case. G'dri seems less hurried, tilting his face into the rising wind with an expectant expression on his face. Though, lacking somewhat in the invigorated delight of a storm-watcher.
People are usually told that there are things that you don't do in a storm or when there's a particularly nasty one brewing in the skies, such as standing under trees, waving metal objects about above one's head, and it's quite possible that bathing a dragon in a large expanse of water is somewhere on the list too. Undeterred thus far, it's only now that Hattie looks to be having second thoughts about lingering in the water with her queen, who shivers and eyes the sky far more often than her rider. All in all, Elaruth really does look quite distressed, but she doesn't move except for her shivering. A brush gets thrown towards the shore and Hattie belatedly checks to see whether she's going to accidentally hit someone with it, which prompts a, "Sorry!" belted in G'dri's direction whether she gets close to bludgeoning him or not.
Bathing a dragon won't go entirely unnoticed, especially not when queens are, by size and by colouring, incredibly hard to miss. While action alone might have drawn a bemused glance, it's possibly the distress that brings those deep lines forming between bold brows. At the least, the drawing of his attention in that direction means he won't get wholloped with a flying scrub brush, hopping backwards with arms spreading as if that'll help avoid the missile. "Woah!" Exclamation of startlement rather than reproach, and he turns shortly after to follow its descent and pick it up off the sand. "Everything okay out there?" Concerned for the state of this his junior queen and her rider.
There's another, "Sorry!" from Hattie, who looks a little bemused at having uttered two apologies in the space of less than a minute. If she was going to say anything further, she's temporarily prevented from doing so when Elaruth nudges her, then again with enough force to send her off-balance and tottering forward a couple of steps. That signals the end of the attempt at a bath and the weyrwoman heads for the shore without argument, her dragon effortlessly reaching sand before she does, still shivering. "Yes, thank you," Hattie eventually manages, approaching G'dri through the shallows. "It's just the..." She points at the sky. "The different pressure and all that. She can feel it. She's alright."
G'dri waves his hand at the second apology, his smile deepening the lines at the corners of his eyes. "It's alright, truly. While perhaps not usually on a day like to today, it's a risk all who walk on the lake shore take during these warmer months. I would not have been the first, nor would I likely have been the last to fall afoul of an errant scrub brush." His humour is quiet, but genuine. He steps forward to meet her, though not so far as to get his boots wet, and offers said brush back to her once they've reached a distance close enough to do so. "Ah, I see. They are more sensitive to such changes than we."
"You make it sound like a sport," Hattie laughs, trying to keep her grin toned down to a minimum. "If it's sunny tomorrow, I might steal five minutes away to see if any poor unsuspecting amblers get beaned over the head by flying scrub brushes." One hand reaches for the brush just as she steps out of the water completely. "Thank you," she says quietly. The sky receives a longer look, her head tipped back to peer at dark clouds. "Something tells me this kind of weather would make good flying were it not for the risks. And, well..." She nods back towards Elaruth and reaches her other hand out to touch it gently to the gold's nose when she approaches. "I doubt she'd appreciate it. I don't know if anyone /does/ go flying in storms?"
G'dri tips his head back and laughs in enjoyment of that idea. "It isn't -so- common," he allows afterwards. "But it has been known to happen on occasion when someone failed to look or to shout a warning. I fear I may have been the one doing the beaning a time or two, even." A nod is given in return to her thanks, think nothing of it quality in gesture and expression. "The winds are dangerous, unpredictable, yes. In the worse weather and stronger winds so high, the sudden change could at the least strain wings, if not snap entire. Though I believe there are always some, mostly among the young, reckless and unheeding of their own mortality, who do take such risks and believe them to be glorious challenges." The gravity of disapproval hangs in his tones, but there's also too some level of understanding for such wildness. Lightening somewhat, a tilt of interest, "If perhaps one could exclude all risk from the experience, is such flying something you think you might enjoy?"
"I don't suppose you could oblige me and feign a great accident between innocent bystander and thrown inanimate object if ever the opportunity presents itself?" Hattie questions, obviously joking from the look in her eyes even if she's successful in banishing all traces of a smile. She takes a moment or two to consider her answer to the latter with another look up at the sky. "I don't know," she says honestly. "I think it might be fun. But more suited to a smaller dragon, I think. She might find it interesting, but odds are she'd be overwhelmed by it quite quickly. And I wouldn't want to distress her unnecessarily." Despite the attempted bath and shivering queen. "Yourself?"
"Would I be required to the bystander, or the one throwing the inanimate object?" G'dri rejoinders, by contrast his smile coming readily, blue eyes twinkling with humour. More sober for the rest, his lips are pursed consideringly, "Possibly. A larger dragon might be better able to ride the winds without being tossed about, whereas a smaller one such as my Khameth, would be at the mercies of each shift and change." His gaze drifts then from Hattie to Elaruth, again with consideration, even as he thinks about his own reply. "When we were younger, Khameth and I did enjoy some adventurous flying. If there wasn't such risks involved, of injury or even, death, I think we would quite enjoy facing a storm such as this, together."
"The one lobbing the inanimate object, of course," Hattie deadpans, though a second or two later she has to look away and grins down at the sand. The grin isn't exactly gone by the time she looks up again, now joined by a slight dip to her brows. "Wouldn't that be part of the fun, though? Being at the mercy of those changes and not knowing what might happen next?" She blinks and studies G'dri for a long moment. "I'm sorry, that must sound awful. I don't mean it out of context and I know I've never flown Fall and-" And she shuts up and stares at the ground once more.
G'dri chuckles, "In that case, I fear I must disappoint you, weyrwoman. I would take a hit for you," and he gives a playful little half-bow, "but downing an innocent I cannot do." And, cheerfully when she looks back up, he winks. His head gets tipped to the side as she continues, before he shakes his head. "There is no need to apologize. While there are some who might take such questions with offence, I am not one of them. And for one so inclined, you are correct, I think." He now, lifts his eyes to sky to frown thoughtfully at the roiling clouds. "There is much unpredictability during a 'Fall, it is true. And, those who are honest will tell you that there can be enjoyment in even that. In facing the threat, surviving it, defeating it. Within the fear, there was invigoration, a satisfaction in doing what we were meant to."
She doesn't apologize again and fingers curl tightly around the brush, which does nothing to help that Hattie looks like she can't quite decide whether to look remorseful or angry with herself even with such assurance. "I guess drills are never quite the same. I..." She's started down this line of questioning, so she must decide she might as well go for it. "I mean, without the fear. You know you're doing what you're meant to do, and you've achieved something at the end of it, but you haven't... survived it?"
G'dri settles a little, hands sliding into his pockets as he stands by mildly, giving Hattie what time she may need. Waiting until she speaks again, and only then will he turn his eyes more fully to take in her face. "If destroying rope can be seen as an achievement, though there is also something to be said just for keeping the knowledge, the skills, fresh." Several more moments are allowed to pass, his brow furrowing with some thought. Once asked, he will give the truest answer he can, within his experience. "It is the element of actual danger, that creates the difference. Of course even within drills accidents can and do happen, but the situation there is not the same, either. Once within a true 'Fall, there is not much time for true thought. Training and instinct, reactions ingrained within us and bred within our dragons. There is no safe period, no space of time to consciously observe that the Thread is falling *thus*," and here he demonstrates with the slanting of one hand through the air after he retrieves it from his pocket, "and so you must move in *this* particular fashion to meet it. Thinking comes before, and after, but never during. Not in the way thinking is normally considered as being."
Hattie listens attentively, unmoving save for eyes darting sharply after hands. There's a pause before she can reply and when she does, the sharpness has faded from her gaze. "In drills, you're worrying about getting it right because you're meant to get it right, not because you think or know that if you don't, you're in trouble. Everyone's in trouble. Well, you are, but not the same kind. It must be an... entirely different path of thought. Almost /too much/ thinking and not enough doing..." But what could she possibly really know about the difference? says the unnatural hesitance woven through her words. Elaruth leans down to nudge at her rider's shoulder more plaintively now, then begins to inch backwards towards the Bowl proper in the direction of her ledge. "I really should take her home," Hattie says quietly. "And that aside, I shouldn't keep you out here when that," the sky; the storm, "could hit at any moment."
For Hattie's observations, G'dri has an expression of interest and approval both. When she hesitates, he smiles encouragingly, nodding. "You're very perceptive," he compliments her. Then with another nod, an accepting one this time and accompanied by another sympathetic glance for Elaruth, "It has been a pleasure speaking with you. Good day to you." He will start across the bowl himself, angling for the inner caverns though, since it seems his blue has decided to hole up without coming to collect him first. Ah well, he needs to find where his jacket's run off to, anyway.