[OOM] Eiattu - Grasslands

[fighting_mad]

Plourr rolls onto her back and stares up at the blue sky, shading her eyes with one hand. It's a warm day, a few wispy clouds scudding across the sky and the sun shining bright. The two thaks are quite happily tucking into their feed nearby, tethered to a fallen tree, and the tall blades of grass wave softly in the wind all through the field. Best yet, there's no sign of anyone else or any manmade object as far as the eye can see; just grass, thaks, forest, and sky. She closes her eyes and lets the sun warm her face.

Comments

[fighting_mad]

"Seriously?"

At least she isn't laughing?

[eiattu_pride]

"Yes, seriously."

This is why he didn't tell her.

[fighting_mad]

That would be a hint of snap in his voice. He's serious, alright, and so she's not laughing or mocking.

It takes some effort, but she's not doing either.

"How have I not heard about this before?" she asks, hand still firmly in his.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial shifts awkwardly, "It's a little embarrassing."

[fighting_mad]

"We sleep in the dark, in case you haven't noticed," she says, and her hand moves in his as she steps back toward him, closer.

[eiattu_pride]

"Yes," he says patiently, "but that's sleeping. That's also in our quarters."

[fighting_mad]

A faint smile curves, and if he can't hear it in her voice (and he probably can), he can certainly feel it against his cheek. "Darkness is fine," she murmurs. "You just have to trust your other senses."

[eiattu_pride]

...mmm.

Rial shifts just a little to kiss her on the cheek, damp hair straggling across his face. "Sounds okay to me."

[fighting_mad]

"Besides," she says, resting her free hand on his hip and tugging him in a step or two, and she tosses her head. "I won't let anything eat you."

She might be grinning just a bit as she leans in--rustle of wet cloth, scuff of a boot, her breath against his lips--and kisses him.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial laughs, at that, and he's about to agree when she leans in and then...oh. Well. This is certainly rather nice.

He breaks away a few moments later, grinning. "We should get going. They'll start to think something did eat us."

[fighting_mad]

"I don't know who the 'they' you speak of is," she says, and she presses her mouth to the corner of his lips (she misses the first time and catches his chin instead, but she does it the second) before stepping back and tugging on his hand, "but I think 'they' are going to be sorely disappointed. This is, after all, our day off."

[eiattu_pride]

"And a well-deserved one, too." He follows her, still grinning brightly eve if she can't see it.

[fighting_mad]

"That goes without saying." Her voice doesn't immediately echo back from her left, and she turns into the passage that she knows is there, running her hand along the wall. She knows it's here, and -- aha. She fits her hand into the reader and after a moment's consideration, the little light flashes green and the panel slides open without a sound. A rush of fresh air accompanies it and Plourr ducks out into the private hall several meters down from their apartment door, blinking in the light.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial ducks out just after her, squinting against the light. Once his eyes have adjusted, he glances down to where he can see the door to their quarters.

"I'm going to need to remember this one."

[fighting_mad]

She snorts, heading toward the door as the panel closes noiselessly behind them. "Good luck. It's a kriffing maze in there."

[eiattu_pride]

"Well, you seemed to do okay."

He follows her, leaving a little trail of watery footprints.

[fighting_mad]

"I ran in those passages with my sisters from the time I could first walk," she says, slicking her hair back again with the hand not in his. "How else do you think I escaped tutors, bathtime, Nynie, and occasionally my mother?" And would-be assassins, that time, a few weeks before they became successful. That's less light-hearted, though.

She nods briefly to the lone guard standing at his post beside the door (ignoring his stare), keys in the access code, and steps into the apartments.

[eiattu_pride]

"Good point, that." Rial follows her in, beaming cheerfully at the guard.

"I call the 'fresher first."

[fighting_mad]

She makes a face over her shoulder at him, but the second the door has shut, she's kicking off her waterlogged boots and unwinding her scarf. "That's fine." She leaves the boots and scarf where they fell and heads further into the apartment, stripping off her long-sleeved over-tunic, struggling with it. Tight clothing is usually hard enough; adding the fact that it's drenched does not make it easier to get it over her head.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial pauses briefly to kiss her neck, regardless of the wet and cold, then heads straight for the 'fresher.

"Mind checking on Wainthropp for me?"

[fighting_mad]

She snorts at him. "You and that thing," she calls after him, but when she hears the 'fresher door close, she pads into the living area on silent bare feet.

The purple snorkack is curled up in his shoebox bed, half-buried under the lining of strips torn from an old sheet. Plourr almost smiles; crouches down and scratches behind his horns. "You," she tells him, glancing up at the window, with water pouring down in sheets, "had the right idea today, little man."

[snorkacklover.livejournal.com]

Wainthropp worms his head out of the sheet strips and blinks sleepily up at her, expression torn between a combination of ‘yes, I’m brilliant’, ‘get me food, wench’, and ‘mmm, scritches’.

The latter wins.

[fighting_mad]

Plourr, thankfully, is not very good at parsing snorkack expressions. Her smile grows. "Yeah," she says, and she rubs the top of his head with her thumb. "Yeah, you did."

She rises, leaving Wainthropp be, and moves to the fireplace. It isn't often used--even in winter, the temperature rarely gets very low on Eiattu--but she's cold and trying to dry herself, so she taps in the command and a small, cheery fire springs up. She peels off her soaked undershirt, draping it across the screen, and she shakes out her wet hair.

[eiattu_pride]

Rial emerges from the fresher a few minutes later, wrapped in a robe and still toweling his hair dry.

He doesn't say anything for a long moment, just leans against the wall and smiles, watching Plourr.

[fighting_mad]

Her trousers are hanging on the screen, too, by now, leaving her in soaked black bra and boy shorts, her hair starting to curl slightly as it dries some. (She is, however, on the opposite side of the couch from Wainthropp, with its bulk between them; something about stripping in front of the snorkack just felt weird.) "Your friend here's doing fine," she says, with a wave of her hand at Wainthropp in his box. "I don't think he moved a muscle the whole time we were gone."

She realizes belatedly that she's being watched, and her eyes narrow. She sets a hand on one hip, utterly unselfconscious. "What? Is there some reason you're staring, 'fresher hog?"