Post by bloodmoon on Mar 2, 2008 17:33:46 GMT -5
It looked rather odd, Khyba decided. She had been living in single weyrs for a long time, so seeing so many beds in the same room was pretty strange. Cots stretched along both walls, conserving space as much as possible. To someone used to sleeping by herself, or with one other person, the concept of slumber in the middle of others...it was disturbing.
With a start, Khyba was shocked out of her contemplations by the arrival of her latest mate, carrying her trunk with ease. His face showed none of the strain that might have resulted form such a heavy trunk- among other things, Khyba was materialistic, and had many possessions. In fact, he looked delighted, which puzzled Khyba. The only time he ever looked that happy was right after climaxing, or just before. He settled the trunk at the foot of the bed she standing next to, careful not to look her in the eyes.
She tilted her head, not noticing how her rope-like braid tugged at the back of her scalp. Her lower lip protruded a little more, completely obsuring her top lip now. She was deep in thought, trying to grasp what was immediately obvious to a more perceptive girl.
"When's Hatching?" she asked, calling up an older discussion of about three hours previous.
The corners of his eyes tightened, and his lips narrowed. Always a bad sign, and one that even Khyba could catch. She'd seen it often enough.
"Should be in a few sevendays. You've missed several lessons, love." He didn't sound much like himself. Khyba didn't catch the annoyed edge that slipped into the innocent phrase.
"Oh, good," she said happily. "Then I can come back? I mean, after I Impress?"
To be fair, Khyba still had innocence, no matter what half the males in the weyr might say. That's what made her lover's next words hurt so much.
"Oh no. IF you Impress, you will be delegated to the Weyrling barracks, where you belong! And don't come pester me with a ton of questions, either!"
With that, the rider- rather childishly- turned on his heel, and stomped out the door.
Khyba sank to her bed, confused. If this whole candidacy thing was just to get her out of his weyr, then...was she not good dragon material? Did she have no hope? And what was that about the whole 'delegated' thing?
Slumping dejectedly, Khyba grabbed her pillow, and threw a punch into it. It was weak, and on another day, might have made her smile at her own shortcomings. But today, it just served to remind her of all the inadequacies that made her a bad bed-mate.
With a start, Khyba was shocked out of her contemplations by the arrival of her latest mate, carrying her trunk with ease. His face showed none of the strain that might have resulted form such a heavy trunk- among other things, Khyba was materialistic, and had many possessions. In fact, he looked delighted, which puzzled Khyba. The only time he ever looked that happy was right after climaxing, or just before. He settled the trunk at the foot of the bed she standing next to, careful not to look her in the eyes.
She tilted her head, not noticing how her rope-like braid tugged at the back of her scalp. Her lower lip protruded a little more, completely obsuring her top lip now. She was deep in thought, trying to grasp what was immediately obvious to a more perceptive girl.
"When's Hatching?" she asked, calling up an older discussion of about three hours previous.
The corners of his eyes tightened, and his lips narrowed. Always a bad sign, and one that even Khyba could catch. She'd seen it often enough.
"Should be in a few sevendays. You've missed several lessons, love." He didn't sound much like himself. Khyba didn't catch the annoyed edge that slipped into the innocent phrase.
"Oh, good," she said happily. "Then I can come back? I mean, after I Impress?"
To be fair, Khyba still had innocence, no matter what half the males in the weyr might say. That's what made her lover's next words hurt so much.
"Oh no. IF you Impress, you will be delegated to the Weyrling barracks, where you belong! And don't come pester me with a ton of questions, either!"
With that, the rider- rather childishly- turned on his heel, and stomped out the door.
Khyba sank to her bed, confused. If this whole candidacy thing was just to get her out of his weyr, then...was she not good dragon material? Did she have no hope? And what was that about the whole 'delegated' thing?
Slumping dejectedly, Khyba grabbed her pillow, and threw a punch into it. It was weak, and on another day, might have made her smile at her own shortcomings. But today, it just served to remind her of all the inadequacies that made her a bad bed-mate.
