Post-dream blues [Open]

[Stranger]

(Timing: The night after the Hatching)


What am I going to do with you?

The thought bounced and rolled the recesses of his mind, pushed at the edges of the quiet night all round; a quiet broken only by the soft breaths of the others in the barracks. Namely - his room mates Ma'ro and Hummiph, and of course his new life's commitment, Ourobeph.

The blue hatchling stirred under his eyes, as if the very thought of his name had echoed in his sleep. Did simourv dream, H'tio wondered. Wonder filled his heart once more at the startling pale blue shades of his chick, framed with that hooded head of snow and pale greenish accents across the neck and flanks that stood out even in the dim light. Surrounded, of course, by a crumble of simourv shells and two bracelets the youngster had already successfully filched from an abandoned purse lying on the canyon floor. But he was a beautiful creature, and just looking at him...made everything worthwhile, somehow. The shattered dreams, the changed ideals; the sudden twisting of the world to suit a new view.

Only the human side of this pairing would stay up sleeplessly to consider what had been that would never be now - the simourv half of it couldn't care less. H'tio had time in the night's stillness to smile wryly at the thought. It would be at least a couple of sleepless nights more before he could come to grips with what he would leave behind, and what he now embraced. He would never be a doctor, that much was readily apparent; what healer training he already had might be useful at a pinch, say if any of the winglets were injured in training or accidents, but it would be impossible for the medical community to recognise him as a full-fledged physician of any sort. He dropped his head with a soft sigh, arms curled around his drawn up legs in the flurry of the scrunched blanket on the bed, and rubbed his tired eyes with one hand.

And the road ahead would be rough. Simourv riders had the dirty work of Pohono: that of confronting and killing the deadliest enemies. of their young civilization. Injuries and blood would be common, no doubt of that; death was a likely occurance, possibly in droves if things went wrong. The simourv were powerful allies and koxi usually melted before them; but while the larger simourv had size on their side, littler ones like his Ourobeph and R'iner's Portemmoreph could be too easily overcome if they were outflanked on the ground. The thought of R'iner going down to koxi flared in his mind; there was little consolation in the knowledge that, paired with her big green hatchling, she would have a chance to take some of them with her if she should go that way. If only he had Impressed one of the larger chicks, a red perhaps, or even a tawny...

Ourobeph shifted again, one wing sagging gently down his side to lie nearly brushing H'tio's cot. The movement crackled on the bits of shell around him and drew the boy back to the moment. A strong rush of some emotion he could not identify stilled all thoughts of having any another. His Ourobeph, beautiful in sleep as in waking, was perfect. He shuffled in his covers as well, drawing the blanket tighter around his legs to keep warm against the night chill of winter. Whatever the future might bring, he had no choice but to meet it, at any rate. Best that he simply come to terms with what life had given him. And, like his long-gone brother Hortha would have said, make the best of the situation, not the worst.

[Kilnarak]

Hummiph had been shocked, completely and utterly shocked, when he and His Ma'ro had returned to their room this evening. All was as it should be when they had left - their belongings neatly ordered as Ma'ro liked them, the bed made and his Kittenph curled atop it - everything in its proper place, even the spare bed on the other side of the room. Occasionally Kittenph had chosen that bed, but usually she preferred his and Ma'ro's. When they had returned, however, while many things had remained the same there was now a marked difference: there had been another human in their room - His room - and also another simourv sleeping upon the unused bed; also Kittenph had awakened and sat staring at the pair of them with the sort of interest she usually reserved for small crawling bugs.

Hummiph had stared at these intruders for a long time - a part of him felt compelled to do something, to stand up and question their invasion of his sanctuary; but the most of him merely wanted to curl up under one of His' blankets and hide. In the end he had done both to some measure: Ma'ro had allowed him onto the bed - although he hardly fit very well upon it anymore - and had draped his largest blanket over Hummiph's undersized wings; he had not allowed Hummiph to hide, however, although he did answer the older blue's distressed questioning: The room was always meant for two pairs, shadow. We were only lucky, to have had it so long to ourselves. This one is very small, you needn't fear him. And while Hummiph had agreed with his at the time, he was still distrustful of their new roommates - particularly the young Ourobeph with his collected eggshells and bangles. He was a stranger, and he was strange - different from Hummiph's two sisters and different from the older simourv; he was small and fluffy, not unlike Kittenph, but not so small. Yukimori had shared his unease, as well! The white hound had growled at the newcomers, she had bared her teeth and placed herself between them. But Ma'ro had soothed her as well, and the dog had finally come to rest in her accustomed spot at the foot of his bed.

While Ma'ro had since made some attempt at greeting their new roommates - at least, the human of the pair - Hummiph had made no such attempts, and instead had only curled more closely beneath his blankets and offered a quiet whimper. It had been some time since then and Ma'ro had fallen asleep in an awkward position, squeezed close to Hummiph to still fit on the bed. Yukimori and Kittenph also slept, the dog still lying beside the bed, and the small gray cat curled comfortably upon Hummiph's back, just between his wings. It had taken some time more than the rest before Hummiph himself had begun to drowse - not sleeping, exactly, as he would only catch a few spare moments before snapping awake again by some sound or smell or sensation from the strangers on the other side of the room.

Now was one such time: Hummiph had begun to drift, his brown eyes slowly falling closed and his breathing evening out. But then there had been a noise, a crackling sort of noise, and Hummiph's eyes shot open and his ears perked up, and he stared distrustfully across the room. Ma'ro shifted in his sleep, reacting to Hummiph's unease, and the blue ducked his head closer to His; he put his ears back and tried to think soothing thoughts. Not what he felt, no, but he did not want to trouble His. His needed sleep. He whined a bit, softly and to himself, and shivered beneath his cat and his blanket; and then he reached out, ever so delicately, and poked a tendril of thought at the stranger: Why-Why here? His whispery mental voice rasped, oh so quiet and vaguely accusatory. It took a lot of his nerve to even ask, to reach out to this strange human - and after he had done it, a part of him wished he hadn't. Oh no, he should have stayed quiet, pretended to sleep - surely this path was not one that might lead to anything good.

[Stranger]

(OOC> Love the name of your kitten

Hummiph's whisper - alien, invasive - drew him back. He had lapsed into brooding once more, thinking about the days after Hotha's death and how the world had narrowed to one single, bright spot in a mess of silence and despair. To become a healer, to save others the way his own brother had not been saved, to do good by his memory. It had, he reflected, been a convenient way to get away from it all as well, drowning his grief in the complexities of digestion, enzymes and respiration. And even when the hurt had faded after the tragedy that made Rainer and he friends, he had stayed driven and steadfast in his dream to be a doctor. The memories brought back tears and smiles alike, his gray eyes misted so much he could not see even the room but only the images flashing through his mind.

Until, of course, that tentative tendril of thought entered it.

It could just have been another figment of his imagination; indeed he thought it was. Except that it had been rather painful and grating, almost as if it wasn't a part of him or his psyche. It bounced around his mind, echoed back at him from the surrounding walls as he looked around, jolted. Nothing seemed to have moved though: his room mate and the little assortment of animals he kept slept on, unperturbed under his gray eyes. It had been a surprise to come into the room for the first time and discover that the winglets were allowed to keep pets. H'tio had always thought the riders to be strict and purposeful, unrelenting in their militaristic discipline. Their trainees, however, seemed to have been allowed more liberty - or maybe he had just been wrong about riders all along.

He realised, abruptly, that he was wrong now: someone was awake besides him. In the muted light of dead night, he could just make out the perked ears of Ma'ro's half-grown simourv, could barely pick out the glint of eyes. Hummiph, like his room mate's dog, had been keeping watch on him and Ourobeph since they arrived, a scrutiny that only added to H'tio's nerves until the lights had finally gone out and he could no longer see clearly enough to know if he were still watching. It seemed however that the observation had never ended, not even when everything else in the room slept. And had he just spoken to him?

I don't know, he mouthed into the silence, an echo of his thoughts. It was an admission as much as an answer. He truly didn't know why he had been assigned this bunk; or why he was here as a winglet, in the first place. At any rate, why was the older blue being so sensitive? Was it something to do with having his territory invaded? Did simourv get upset about things like that the way dogs often did? H'tio rubbed at his eyes, suddenly more tired than he'd been the entire day. He knew precious little about simourv, and hardly felt inclined to trust this one. If the wary Hummiph turned out to be territorial and tried something on Ourobeph or himself while they slept....well, sleep wasn't an option any longer. He would just have to stay awake until he knew what the other's intentions were.

[Kilnarak]

There was a faint sense of tension coming from the other side of the room now, a mirror of what Hummiph himself felt. He could pick up a vague sense of confusion, of uncertainty, from the human - perhaps if he delved deeper into the strangers mind he might sense more, might sense words, but he didn't want to. It wasn't Ma'ro's mind, it wasn't the same, and he felt to dive into it might ruin him. What if His did not want him anymore, if he immersed himself in this other human's mind? What if it broke their bond? No, no, he wouldn't; he would merely brush the bare edges of the other human's mind and would reach no further.

The elder blue shivered faintly, ducking his head to nibble at His Ma'ro's hair - the albino stirred but did not wake, turned his face into his pillow. Hummiph's tail gave a small twitch, and he huddled against his human, trying to make himself smaller, tucking his wings tight to his back and sides. It jostled Kittenph a bit, enough that she got up and stretched. But the cat didn't leave Hummiph's back, and after he had settled again she curled up between his shoulder blades. He could feel her little talons flexing and relaxing against his feathers, and she made a low sleepy noise, almost a hum. It was comforting, even while the stranger on the other side of the room was not. Perhaps! Perhaps he might sleep like this! But no, the vague feeling of tension permeating the room kept sleep from him.

Still, Hummiph tried. He lay very still and closed his eyes and tried to keep his ears from pricking up to the sounds of shifting and breathing from the other side of the room. Eventually, however, he finally gave up the endeavor. He reached out to the other minds waiting there, touching them oh-so-lightly: Can't... can't you take another room? there was a faint whining quality to the whisper, and a sense of many unoccupied rooms awaiting down the wide hall of the winglets' barracks. Why this room? He waited as long as he could for an answer, then tore his mind away from the foreign presence, shivering upon His' own bed again.

[Stranger]

In the dim silence of the shared bunk, H'tio could make out movement on the other side. His murmured response, more thought than word, seemed to have elicited a response. He could see just enough to outline the round curve of Hummiph's head as he inclined to nibble at Ma'ro's hair, the twitch of something that might have been a tail as the older blue curled in on himself, then the arches of motion as his room mate's cat (...Kittenph, yes, what a curious name) rose between the roundness of wings on the simourv's back to stretch before settling in again. Hummiph lay his head down and seemed to sleep.

Except that he wasn't sleeping - if those twitching ears, flicking to every heavier breath from Ourobeph, were anything to go by. He was hardly breathing loud enough to be heard by himself. He would rather not disturb their room mates more than was needed. The cold began to slip into his hands, and with every attempt to avoid more rustling sounds, he pushed them under the blankets with his feet. There was a soft swish from the resultant folding of cloth anyway; in the next moment he felt that alien, ragged touch on his mind once more.

Can't... can't you take another room? Why this room?

H'tio went stiller yet, if that were possible. There had been a very sure sense, with those words, of a rowful of empty bunks stretching the corridor beyond their door, and an accompanying...trepidation? Uncertainty? Perhaps even...fear? Hummiph had come across as shy and wary when he first saw him this evening; the notion that the bigger simourv might be afraid was just a tad...disconcerting. He stared hard across the room, trying to make out a clearer sight of the huddled mass on Ma'ro's bed. The simourv was....moving, very slightly, in staccato-like motion. Shivering?

I... H'tio began, and paused. Mindspeech had been completely natural with Ourobeph, even if he was somewhat unused to it. But...was it possible for him to communicate with another's simourv this way? Would it be...rude, for that matter? He hesitated a moment longer, decided that Ma'ro was not likely to know anyway, and continued in a whisper echoed by the stretch of his thoughts, projected across the room as best he could towards Hummiph.

"There weren't any others," he whispered, "And they told us to come here."

[Kilnarak]

Hummiph fell silent again as his question was answered - and not in a way that was to his liking. The larger blue whined ever so softly, burying his snout in the pillow behind His' head. Ourobeph's was a liar. Hummiph had seen the empty rooms, knew that his cruel sister had a room to herself as well - if there were enough for her to have her own, why not for him? Forced to share a room with a liar, and if Ourobeph's human lied, how could he be sure the younger blue wouldn't lie as well? He shivered again, then stilled abruptly as he sensed Ma'ro stirring. The albino drifted toward wakefulness, dragged out of his dreamless sleep by Hummiph's worry. Hummiph didn't want for that either. He forced himself to calm, to push down his fear enough that it would no longer disturb Ma'ro.

The other human had spoken again, his whispered words nearly lost on the simourv's ears. They had told him. The Wingletmasters. That couldn't be a lie, could it? It was something they would do - and of course they would favor his sister over himself. He stifled another shiver, instead focusing his attention on His Ma'ro, watching the man's chest rise and fall, listening to the soothing pattern of his breathing. Calm, he had to be calm.

It was some moments before Hummiph dared to reach toward his roommates again, and once voiced, the question was soft, hesitant - clipped toward the end as if he thought better of it, even as he asked: What are you like. And then an awkward silence from the simourv, before he timidly ventured again: What... What is he like? He isn't... bad...?