Just a little Chat [Kattttt~]

[Fox]

While this Hatching had not been quite the disaster as the first in terms of injuries sustained by winglets, there had still been enough shock going around at the events that L'nan felt almost drained as she made her way towards the infirmary down in the Ground Caverns of the Eyrie. Her shoulders slumped at the thought of the little unbonded blue, whom no one knew quite what to think of save perhaps Eceph. But whatever it was, the blue was alive and perhaps he would bond at another time; no one knew yet for certain whether simourvs could only bond at their hatching, so it was a fair possibility. The tawnyrider refused to think of it as an unlikely one.

Eoreph had not chosen to accompany her to the infirmary, deciding instead to remain on the sands, up on a ledge, to watch out for the little blue, curious and saddened that her younger sibling had not bonded. She had reminded Hers, though, that L'nan had promised to go and speak to Dionyph's, though what about exactly the woman herself was not too clear on. His actions on the sands had been ill-thought out, and stupid, but that was just Ri'ley. He cared too much. And with his sister on the sands, honestly, L'nan could not blame him; she might have done the same thing. But then again, she might not have, considering that she had a healthy respect for rules. Something that Ri'ley did at times seem to lack. With a sigh, she approached the entrance and stepped through, nodding to a couple of healers moving along the bedsides of their patients. She didn't think any of the winglets had had to stay overnight; even Amaryllis's broken arm did not impede movement. But even so, L'nan was sure she would find Ri'ley here. Sure. More or less.

There were certainly some beds that she could not see, with a curtain drawn around their occupants. She herself had occupied one of those the night she had stayed here after her own bonding to Eoreph. He might well be in one of those, or simply blocked by them, or he might not be here at all. It had to be something about Hatchings that made people act stupidly; she herself had not been particularly patient or sensible at the time either, angry and impatient and generally in a horrible mood. It was also ironic how she had to track him down yet again to speak of events surrounding a hatching. Ugh. But whatever it was, L'nan bit her lip and, with an apologetic glance to the healers present, called softly out into the infirmary as a whole, soft enough not to disturb but hopefully audible throughout the area. If he was here, she would speak to him. And that was that.

"Ri'ley?"

[Kat]

L’nan was almost correct about Ri’ley’s location. He was in the infirmary, but he was not behind one of the curtains. Instead, he sat in the back of the infirmary, on the same bench that he used to tend to A’ryllis. He had, though, moved from that spot in the back to the edge of the bench, so that he hung half-way between the area for humans and the area for simourvs. Dionyph still refused to speak to him, but the pair needed to be next to each other, to be in close physical proximity, so Ri’ley sat in a corner where Dionyph could dip his head down to hover over Ri’ley’s head. The longer feathers on Dionyph’s neck drooped and tickled Ri’ley’s head. Ri’ley, though, only felt the feathers mixing with his hair, because instead of paying attention to them, he had his head in his hands. He was stooped over in this position, head hanging, body curved, with his legs splayed a bit so that his knees were apart. He looked positively exhausted, or perhaps, broken. His hands were coated in the dry plaster he used to mend A’ryllis’s arm, and the light gray color stood out against his dark hair. That was all that could be seen of his head, his hair and the tops of his ears, from behind his huge hands. There was not much else to be finished. He would pay attention if he was needed, but now he was not needed. He was more comfortable inactive for once in his life.

The sound of his name yanked Ri’ley out of his state, and his hands dropped into his lap as his body jerked upwards. Brown eyes searched the room to find the source of the sound, and as soon as he spotted L’nan, his posture relaxed again. He was glad to see her, and it also meant that no one needed his help with anything. Or at least, it probably meant that. He lifted an arm to wave lazily in L’nan’s direction. He imagined that she wanted to talk about the hatching, which he did not wish to talk about, but he liked L’nan, and her presence could be comforting to him. He decided that he wanted to be near her, and that he could convince her that he did not want to discuss the day’s events. He never wanted the hatching talked about again. It was a bad memory already, and it was not even finished, this day. Dionyph snorted as Ri’ley thought about this.
It was a worse day for me, mine. Don’t forget it.
Dionyph taunted. Ri’ley was sure Dionyph was wrong, but the man did not dare bring up that objection to his simourv. Instead, the hand that waved to L’nan lifted to stroke the side of Dionyph’s neck.
I’m sorry.

[/b]
Ri’ley muttered mentally to his charge. Then, Dionyph snorted again, and he shook his head indignantly to remove Ri’ley’s hand. The man returned the limb to his lap, his face stricken as if with grief.
I am not talking to you.
Dionyph announced, his tone annoyed, but Ri’ley could feel that the simourv was not irritated with Ri’ley for this incident, but rather annoyed with himself.

In order to give room for L’nan on the bench, as Ri’ley imagined she wanted to sit, he scooted over so that he was almost falling off the edge of the bench. Even angry, Dionyph nudged his rider’s side, so that Ri’ley’s body balanced away from the drop off of the bench to the floor. Dionyph turned towards the doorway of the simourv infirmary to search for Eoreph, but she did not follow her rider into the building. Dejected, Dionyph dropped his head, and then nuzzled Ri’ley’s side with his beak. Ri’ley understood the action, and reached up to stroke Dionyph’s neck again. The hatchling radiated anger, Ri’ley felt it like a toxic miasma around Dionyph’s form, but he also felt empty, needy, and lonely. Dionyph needed Ri’ley’s support even if he did not want it. And Ri’ley obliged, because that was his duty and his desire, even if Dionyph remained positively obstinate. Ri'ley's fingers left pieces of white plaster woven into Dionyph's black feathers. For once, neither partner seemed to care about the mess.
[/blockquote][/size]

[Fox]

The waving of a hand from the other end of the infirmary caught L'nan's eye, and she paused in the doorway to blink at the slumped, dejected form that was her blackrider friend. For a moment, her resolve to speak to him wavered and she entertained the notion of just pretending that she was here to fetch something. But no, she'd called for him specifically already, and it would be cowardly to back out now. Still, looking at him kind of made the tawnyrider feel bad for wanting to bring up the iffy subject of the Hatching; he didn't really look like he needed it right at that moment. One hand raised in reply to acknowledge that her attention had been caught, and then L'nan took a deep breath and started walking.

It was surprising, enough that L'nan's steps faltered, when she saw Dionyph shake off Ri'ley's hand, the simourv's entire attitude screaming unhappiness. She blinked, slightly horrified at this apparent rift between one of the closest wingletpairs she'd yet seen (if not the closest) and suddenly wished for Eoreph's presence. If only to try and talk some sense into her brother while L'nan spoke to Ri'ley. Below, at the sands, the tawny simourv's head rose as she became aware of her rider's distress. Quietly, she gleaned from the woman's memories what had occurred and stood from her position perched on a ledge, stretching her wings in preparation for flight. Before L'nan could quite finish composing her protest, Eoreph's gentle mindvoice silenced her. My little blue brother has our mother with him. He does not need me; Dionyph does.[/color] Her black brother would do well to have someone to talk to, if his betrayed reaction at the sands was any indication. And Eoreph, with her quiet disposition, made an excellent listener; it wasn't the first time she had let her larger black brother vent his thoughts to her in such a manner.

L'nan hesitated for the briefest moment, as her feet brought her to a halt in front of Ri'ley's bowed form, eyes flickering from her friend to Dionyph and back. Then she caved to her simourv, who was already en route to the infirmary anyway. Thank you, love. She glanced up at Dionyph first. "Hello, Dionyph. Eoreph is on the way and wishes to speak to you..." She informed him blandly, neither asking nor really conveying any sort of opinion. The woman just thought he should know. L'nan then lowered her gaze from the large simourv to his equally large (by human standards) rider, and after a deep breath, she took the seat next to him, close enough that their shoulders brushed briefly. For a long moment, she was silent, biting her lip in what was rapidly proving to be a nervous habit, and then she ventured a simple statement. "Hey. That went rather disappointingly, didn't it?" It was a very general statement; only by virtue of the turbulent events of the Hatching was it clear that that would really be the only thing L'nan would speak of. Whether she referred to the unbonded chick or to Ri'ley and Dionyph's spectacular and very audible disagreement on the sands was unclear even to the tawnyrider herself. She left it to Ri'ley to decided which.[/size]

[Kat]

Dionyph’s first impulsion was to reject the help, to tell the tawnyrider that he could deal with the situation on his own, but the black simourv did need someone else. He just wanted some support, and even though Ri’ley was providing that for him, the ambivalence Dionyph felt towards his rider at that moment made Ri’ley’s attempts at calming much less comforting than Dionyph needed.
Tell Eoreph that I would be glad and honored to talk to her.
The black simourv replied to L’nan, his voice tired and strained sounding, losing some of its usual booming cadence. Ri’ley, too, contemplated telling L’nan that Eoreph was unneeded. He did not want to be a burden, however, Ri’ley acknowledged that he did not have the right to make that choice. Dionyph knew best whether or not he needed to talk to his sister. Ri’ley watched Dionyph for a second, the human’s eyes lingering as he tried to scope out his simourv’s emotional state. But nothing that Ri’ley did not already know could be seen in Dionyph’s posture. The fact that Ri’ley could not tell what Dionyph replied to Eoreph bothered Ri’ley, although he could not explain why he was hurt. Dionyph and him were close, and Ri’ley dislike the fact that the simourv responded to L’nan without allowing Ri’ley to overhear the comment. The fact that Dionyph hurt Ri’ley’s feelings, though, was noticeable on his face, which remained stiff and tired.

L’nan’s comment was a complete understatement. Ri’ley realized that immediately, and he also knew that L’nan comprehended that fact as well. How could Ri’ley even explain how he felt to L’nan. Dionyph’s anger was pressing and hard, but it also made Ri’ley long desperately for the companionship of his currently distant simourv. And, of course, A’ryllis’s arm provided the blackrider a whole separate group of issues about which to worry. He knew that A’ryllis was going to be fine, but watching his sister in pain created emotional stress from which exhausted and taxed Ri’ley. And the girl’s words on the sands were enough to send Ri’ley over the edge, except that he tried to ignore the accusations. But how could he convey all of this to L’nan. She had been there, and she had seen it, and perhaps she could guess Ri’ley’s current emotional state. He did not particularly want to talk to it, especially since he imagined she might lecture him about his actions on the sands. Perhaps he had done something wrong, even though Ri’ley felt that his actions had not been terribly bad. Because of Dionyph’s public outburst, Ri’ley’s actions appeared worse than they were. Ri’ley had done what he thought was best at the time, and he still felt that his actions were not completely off base.

Ri’ley sighed, and he turned his gaze towards L’nan, his eyes unusually emotive, tired and lachrymose. What could he say? The hatching had gone terribly for many reasons.
”It definitely could have been better. But we do have nineteen more riders in the Eyrie, so perhaps we should focus on that.”
Ri’ley used the words to deflect from his own part in the disagreement, and he acknowledged that. Had he not meant L’nan to see through his guise, he would have been a lot less obvious about it. However he did think that the Eyrie as a whole, needed to focus on the nineteen bonded pairs and not on the one blue that had not bonded. The creature was one of twenty, and his siblings all had competent riders.
”I guess I think we need to look towards the positive situation, and that we all need to move on.”
Ri’ley explained with a small shrug. He knew that he was going to try to instigate that mentality into the way he dealt with the day.

[Fox]

With a muffled thump, Eoreph landed solidly outside the infirmary, large wings folding down to rest against her back. She could feel the sense of L'nan within, and she could just as easily tell that her rider was trying desperately to stifle her distress. It was no wonder; Eoreph herself was slightly disturbed by the events at the hatching, both with the little blue and Dionyph's causing a scene. Still, there was little she could do to alleviate that but send her rider a wash of warm comfort, like being wrapped up tight in an old, beloved blanket. Eoreph waited for L'nan's sense of appreciation, and then she shifted her attention to Dionyph, who occupied the large space within the infirmary specially designed for simourvs. Eoreph would not enter with him; it would be cramped with the both of them inside, and she also wanted to remove him from his rider's presence for a short while. So that Hers could speak to Ri'ley alone, and so that she could also let Dionyph vent freely. Dionyph, I am here if you need to speak with me.[/color] The tawny's mild words were laced with a gentle reassurance. She was an unassuming listener, and if Dionyph truly did not wish to speak with her she would not press him. But the undertone of her words was encouragement, that he could unburden himself onto her.

L'nan, thankful for Eoreph's arrival, sighed faintly and shot a wan smile at Dionyph and said, "She's here. You can tell her that yourself." That Dionyph spoke only to her went completely unnoticed; she was distracted and far too used to the black speaking directly to her anyway. Instead, she mustered a lacklustre attempt at a reassuring smile and met Ri'ley's tired gaze, though inwardly she cringed a bit at the swirl of confusing emotions she could see so clearly. "We all need to move on..." She repeated absently, as she turned to fix her gaze on the opposite wall. Another sigh deflated her slightly. "That is true, but it's also true that some things need to be addressed first." L'nan wasn't looking forward to this; she didn't really like to lecture, especially on such a tender topic as this was, but her own pride pressed her on. She'd promised Eoreph, and herself, that she would talk to Ri'ley after the spectacle he and Dionyph had put on in front of everyone. No one needed to see that or hear that; the riders had to present a unified front, and L'nan grasped that even though as yet she remained only a winglet.

Still, she paused to make sure that Dionyph was not within easy hearing distance before speaking. The woman didn't quite approve of how Dionyph was reacting to the situation, but she could not speak to him as she could to Ri'ley. She had no basis of friendship for that; only a more tenuous, by proxy sort of relationship. Eoreph could speak to him more than she could. "You shouldn't have left Dionyph like that, Ri'ley. I'm sure you know that by now, but it needs to be said." L'nan shook her head and brown eyes flickered to rest on Ri'ley. "A rider tends first to their simourv. All other ties come second, even that of a brother to a sister." Her voice was as gentle as she could make it while still retaining its undertone of sternness, but there was still a faint glimmer of disappointment and disapproval in the set of the tawnyrider's mouth, lacking its usual smile, that she couldn't quite restrain. Ri'ley's actions were understandable, because despite his apathetic front, he cared more than was healthy, but that did not mean in any way that those actions were acceptable. [/size]