Who

Doji, Herik

What

After a tough morning PT session in the mud, Doji and Herik commiserate.

WAY backdated.

When

It is midmorning of the twenty-fifth day of the third month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Lake Shore

OOC Date 19 Jun 2017 23:00

 

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“Well, they don’t all like mud. Some like poetry.”


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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


Spring weather in Igen can be a fickle thing. Any candidates who woke up in the middle of the night to thunderstorms and got hopes up that this morning PT would be cancelled has been poorly disappointed. Instead of cancelling, B’ram looked positively delighted when the candidates began to gather in the appointed spot at the appointed time, insisting the weather would make for an absolutely delightful run. Delightful for the assistant weyrlingmaster maybe, but the majority of the candidates were less enthused to be forced to trudge through the mud about the lake this morning. But they did it, because that’s what candidates do. Eventually, they do enough running to satisfy their possibly sadistic overseer and they’re dismissed. As soon as they are, the thoroughly mud bespeckled Doji is going to plop down on the shore with a groan. What’s a little more dirt when she’s already covered in it?

Wet through and his legs splattered with mud up to the thighs, Herik is out of breath after slogging it around the lake. A run on a nice sunny day? No problem? In normal rain? That’s bearable. But this was genuinely tough. Getting his breath back, the man slows down from his run to a walk. Even that feels like hard work after what he’s just been through. He’ll make his way towards Doji, flopping down on the wet sand, face up fortunately. “Ugh.” That’s his contribution to a conversation.

At that ugh, Doji turns her head ever so slightly and cracks open an eye to peek at just who it is that plopped down beside her. “WHY???” The word is both a groan and a quiet whine. The girl is also a wonderful conversationalist this morning. She also doesn’t look like she’s intends to be moving anytime soon from that position where she’s sprawling in the sand, limbs all akimbo.

Herik’s initial answer is a grunt as he lets his eyelids fall closed, the relief of not having to keep moving too blissful not to give into for this moment. After a pause to dredge some words up through a throat that would rather rest from heavy breathing, the man does offer a quiet reply. “Gotta be tough enough to ride dragons, right?” It’s delivered with tired sarcasm, Herik’s eyes still closed as a wry smile comes to his lips.

“But… mud?” Doji grabs a handful of the wet sand and lets it slip through her fingers and then hand falls back down to rest in the sand again. “Think I’d almost take mucking the ground weyrs over that run.” Almost. Hopefully a weyrlingmaster didn’t hear that or she might just end up doing both today, but for now, she’s going to take a deep breath and stretch out in the sand. Not standing and not moving can feel so good.

“Yeah,” Herik mumbles, a wave of exhaustion rushing over him now that the adrenaline of the run is wearing off. “Surely dragonriders don’t have to run around in the mud?” He doesn’t sound so sure about that - but he does seem hopeful that, if they should have the good fortune to Impress, they won’t have to do that again. Unlike Doji, Herik remains completely still, and it could even look like he’s asleep. Except for when he speaks again. “You alright otherwise, Doji?” Because there’s nothing like catching up while lying on wet sand in the rain.

That one movement may have been a mistake or expended all her remaining energy, for Doji’s now going to lay perfectly still except for that rise and fall needed for breathing. It’s a moment before she actually responds to her fellow candidate. “I don’t think usually they do? Unless their dragon really likes the mud.” But how often does Igen really have any amount of mud anyway? She at least doesn’t seem to think running in mud will happen too often. “Yeah. I think I’m getting used to it all, but I’m getting tired of the waiting. You?”

Herik lets out a low groan. “Please don’t talk about dragons that like mud.” He can’t think of anything worse right now. He’s silent for some time, then. Has exhaustion finally claimed him? Has he - oh no, he’s speaking again. “I just want to know what’s going to happen.” It’s apparently taken him a while to put those thoughts together into words, and the exhaustion in his voice is more than just physical. “It’s…tiring, just to wait.”

Doji oh so slowly rolls her head over so she’s looking at Herik without actually having to sit up and reposition. “Well, they don’t all like mud. Some like poetry.” Is poetry the opposite of mud? Is poetry possibly worse than mud? If she was sitting up, the girl would probably shrug, but both sitting up and shrugging would take far too much effort at the moment. “I think we all do. Want to find out what’s going to happen next.”

Herik’s eyes are still closed, but he’s increasingly having to fight falling asleep. Feeling himself nearly get overwhelmed by the next wave of tiredness, he opens his eyes, wider than necessary to try and keep himself awake. “I don’t know if I’d prefer a dragon quoting poetry to one rolling in mud.” Such is his verdict on that. He stares up at the disturbingly clear sky, letting Big Thoughts happen in his brain. “Yeah. Which of us will be going where.” That seems important to Herik.

“As long as he’s not quoting poetry while rolling in the mud?” There’s not shrug with that, for a shrug would require effort which Doji is not really putting into anything right now. There’s gravity that needs to be overcome in order to move any and moving doesn’t really seem that important right now. The beach might be wet and dirty, but it’s not too bad. Not worse than the idea of moving her legs any more at the moment. “If you don’t, do you know what you’ll do? After? Go back to the Pit?”

Herik shudders at that thought, although even that involuntary movement takes more energy than he has to spare right now. Doji’s question prompts another pause as the man considers his options, eyes staring blankly up. Finally, he says, gravely: “I don’t think so. I think I may have burned that bridge.” There’s regret in his voice, but not as much as one might, perhaps, expect for one who’s talking about splitting himself off from his family.

There’s more silence from Doji, unsure of how exactly to respond to that. “I still haven’t told my family. If I don’t impress, then everything will go back to exactly how it was before.” That might be a bit optimistic on the girl’s part. Some things HAVE changed, but her bridges are still very solidly in place. “But I hear the Fool is starting up a travelling group for folks that are left standing and don’t want to go home.”

“Oh.” Surprised by this, and more than a little envious of Doji being able to do this without telling her family, Herik sits up. Slowly, because he’s starting to ache. “Heh. Yeah, he’s invited me to that. A couple of times, actually.” And now Herik will peel himself off the floor until he’s standing, rubbing at an ache in his calf. “I’m gonna head in, get washed up. I need a soak in some hot water after all that.” Small luxuries. He’ll offer a hand to Doji to help her up, if she wants it.

With a groan, Doji realizes that she too will have to get up. Can’t wallow on the lake shore forever, after all. But then Herik’s up and offering a hand to her and she’ll gladly accept the help up, her limbs have stiffened up enough that it’s definitely useful. “That sounds like a plan. And probably just enough time to soak and get lunch before afternoon chores.” Oh the busy life of candidates. Don’t tell them that this will seem calm compared to weyrlinghood. Let them live in ignorance for just a few more days.

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