Post by Lothyna on Jan 30, 2011 22:00:14 GMT -5
Who: Sa'niel, Geveneth, Shen, whomever?
What: Sorting fish!
When: Midday
White surf curled lazily over a green mound, swirling in pale green-blue eddies as it crashed and retreated to the sea, the high tide raising the water levels to a lovely, inviting level. The water was a siren call, cool and soothing in just its’ appearance, the tangy scent and taste of brine lingering on the breeze, cries of ship workers and dolphins echoing with the dull roar of the water. It was a peaceful, soothing moment in time, and almost too picturesque. The green mound certainly thought so, worn out as it was, splayed over a mostly dry patch of sand enjoying the mix between cool-warm shallow water, and hot, heavy sun that soaked and soothed just as wonderfully as the water itself did. Yawning, the mound turned, wings spreading and settling flat on the damp sand to bare as much skin as possible, tail-tip flicking contentedly. A small, soft sound, partly a whistle, soon drifted up from the lump, and it’s sides moved gently.
Chuckling at the sight of a young hatchling sprawled at the edge of the water, -more, that she was his beloved, something still amazingly new and almost too impossible to believe, Sa’niel looked out over the water, pausing in his work. The crates around him were filled with fish of various types, and nets full of those he had yet to reach, along with a pile of offal that was far smaller than one would suspect, given that the young Smith had been at work on his chores for several hours already. Of course, this could entirely be due to the sleeping, tummy-bulged green firelizard sprawled on the sand above the water mark, surrounded by a few of the local firelizards who knew just where to go for a free, tasty meal. That, or the dolphins themselves, who often cadged bits from him as they played. Turning his gaze back to the fish at his feet, Sa’niel crouched back down from his stretch, making sure his hair was still bound tightly away from aught that would cause problems later.
Thankfully, the slight breeze from the ocean was enough to drive away the stink, leaving a clean small of fresh fish, dragon, and sweat mingled into the brine as he settled down with a new net, unfolding it carefully given that he was on a platform near the water-and those crates were actually floating in it. It wouldn’t do for him to lose what they needed to survive-or the hard work of others. Type and size passed between his hands in a blur as they had for most of the day, though his morning had also been filled with watching the hatchling green play herself out in the water-hence her sleeping there now. Glancing back up at Geveneth, a fond, gentle smile on his lips, the young smith flushed, mind turning in directions he would rather it not for a time-though a glance about showed he was, mostly, alone for the moment. Shaking a wisp of hair back, he stretched out, fiddling with another net full of heavier, deep sea fish, before sighing.
Working slowly and letting his mind drift, the young Smith thought back over everything that had happened recently, from the moment his one close friend had come for a visit-and merrily dragged him off to the Weyr with her blue. He shook his head, laughing somewhat, as he remember the turmoil of those weeks before the hatching, facing ghosts of the past, and the struggles of the Weyr against those maddened from some unknown force out of Silver Cove. The thought brought a chill, and he shivered, before shaking it away. The other thoughts, though, those were light, hopeful-and due entirely to the hatching. Despite the mutations-he’d seen a few minor ones before, once in a rare time, there had been a healthy amount of dragons, and all of them amazing. He still couldn’t get the sight of one, the second egg, so dark a brown, out of his mind. More, he couldn’t get rid of the image he had of that browns rider-to-be gone either, from the hatching and the fight before. Geveneth was always first in his thoughts, now-but that rider and brown weren’t too far behind.
What: Sorting fish!
When: Midday
White surf curled lazily over a green mound, swirling in pale green-blue eddies as it crashed and retreated to the sea, the high tide raising the water levels to a lovely, inviting level. The water was a siren call, cool and soothing in just its’ appearance, the tangy scent and taste of brine lingering on the breeze, cries of ship workers and dolphins echoing with the dull roar of the water. It was a peaceful, soothing moment in time, and almost too picturesque. The green mound certainly thought so, worn out as it was, splayed over a mostly dry patch of sand enjoying the mix between cool-warm shallow water, and hot, heavy sun that soaked and soothed just as wonderfully as the water itself did. Yawning, the mound turned, wings spreading and settling flat on the damp sand to bare as much skin as possible, tail-tip flicking contentedly. A small, soft sound, partly a whistle, soon drifted up from the lump, and it’s sides moved gently.
Chuckling at the sight of a young hatchling sprawled at the edge of the water, -more, that she was his beloved, something still amazingly new and almost too impossible to believe, Sa’niel looked out over the water, pausing in his work. The crates around him were filled with fish of various types, and nets full of those he had yet to reach, along with a pile of offal that was far smaller than one would suspect, given that the young Smith had been at work on his chores for several hours already. Of course, this could entirely be due to the sleeping, tummy-bulged green firelizard sprawled on the sand above the water mark, surrounded by a few of the local firelizards who knew just where to go for a free, tasty meal. That, or the dolphins themselves, who often cadged bits from him as they played. Turning his gaze back to the fish at his feet, Sa’niel crouched back down from his stretch, making sure his hair was still bound tightly away from aught that would cause problems later.
Thankfully, the slight breeze from the ocean was enough to drive away the stink, leaving a clean small of fresh fish, dragon, and sweat mingled into the brine as he settled down with a new net, unfolding it carefully given that he was on a platform near the water-and those crates were actually floating in it. It wouldn’t do for him to lose what they needed to survive-or the hard work of others. Type and size passed between his hands in a blur as they had for most of the day, though his morning had also been filled with watching the hatchling green play herself out in the water-hence her sleeping there now. Glancing back up at Geveneth, a fond, gentle smile on his lips, the young smith flushed, mind turning in directions he would rather it not for a time-though a glance about showed he was, mostly, alone for the moment. Shaking a wisp of hair back, he stretched out, fiddling with another net full of heavier, deep sea fish, before sighing.
Working slowly and letting his mind drift, the young Smith thought back over everything that had happened recently, from the moment his one close friend had come for a visit-and merrily dragged him off to the Weyr with her blue. He shook his head, laughing somewhat, as he remember the turmoil of those weeks before the hatching, facing ghosts of the past, and the struggles of the Weyr against those maddened from some unknown force out of Silver Cove. The thought brought a chill, and he shivered, before shaking it away. The other thoughts, though, those were light, hopeful-and due entirely to the hatching. Despite the mutations-he’d seen a few minor ones before, once in a rare time, there had been a healthy amount of dragons, and all of them amazing. He still couldn’t get the sight of one, the second egg, so dark a brown, out of his mind. More, he couldn’t get rid of the image he had of that browns rider-to-be gone either, from the hatching and the fight before. Geveneth was always first in his thoughts, now-but that rider and brown weren’t too far behind.
