[Witches' Horses] Swallow's Tail
Title: heh.
'Verse/characters: Swallow's Tail; Helena
Prompt: 50C "dance"
Word Count: 245
Notes: the other side of 'whoops' ain't blind.
She'd have expected him to move the way he talks, all spastic jerks and tangents. Expected the kid in the saddle when she and the Captain and Sascha hit like that proverbial weight from above not to be the main rider. Night cycle, after all, and him all big white rimmed eyes in the dark when she came in and laid a hand on his reins, the other holding the gun to his center of mass. He'd said, time and again, that he didn't have a card, wasn't officially qualified to ride.
He doesn't move like he talks, though. He moves like he rides, and he rides like he's dancing with someone he knows and loves with all the nervous energy behind his eyes.
He's been watching her lately, quick glances like the one he cast back at the saddle she'd made him leave.
Captain doesn't see it. If he did he'd have the kid off anywhere he could get the hatch open without killing everybody.
If Sascha sees it, he's not saying a damned thing, and he's brighter than he looks. Maybe he's just tired of borrowing riders, or living with one of them riding. Maybe he's waiting--wants to see what happens, how things play, and if he'll have a chance to test that nasty knife he picked up last time they touched Sarai's Daughters.
Kid probably doesn't think he's telegraphing, at that. Or he's trickier than he looks, by a long shot.
She's thinking of laying a hand on the reins, again, and seeing if he dances like he rides.
'Verse/characters: Swallow's Tail; Helena
Prompt: 50C "dance"
Word Count: 245
Notes: the other side of 'whoops' ain't blind.
She'd have expected him to move the way he talks, all spastic jerks and tangents. Expected the kid in the saddle when she and the Captain and Sascha hit like that proverbial weight from above not to be the main rider. Night cycle, after all, and him all big white rimmed eyes in the dark when she came in and laid a hand on his reins, the other holding the gun to his center of mass. He'd said, time and again, that he didn't have a card, wasn't officially qualified to ride.
He doesn't move like he talks, though. He moves like he rides, and he rides like he's dancing with someone he knows and loves with all the nervous energy behind his eyes.
He's been watching her lately, quick glances like the one he cast back at the saddle she'd made him leave.
Captain doesn't see it. If he did he'd have the kid off anywhere he could get the hatch open without killing everybody.
If Sascha sees it, he's not saying a damned thing, and he's brighter than he looks. Maybe he's just tired of borrowing riders, or living with one of them riding. Maybe he's waiting--wants to see what happens, how things play, and if he'll have a chance to test that nasty knife he picked up last time they touched Sarai's Daughters.
Kid probably doesn't think he's telegraphing, at that. Or he's trickier than he looks, by a long shot.
She's thinking of laying a hand on the reins, again, and seeing if he dances like he rides.