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rainbowfic2013-09-27 01:09 pm
jkatkina) wrote in rainbowfic2013-09-27 01:09 pm
Entry tags:
Clay and noise
Name: jkatkina
Story: Fensirt
Colors: Amber #10 (Clay), Skylight #7 (traffic noise)
Supplies and Styles: Stain: "There is no such thing as an underestimate of average intelligence." - Henry Adams. "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it." - Groucho Marx
Word Count: 1076
Rating: G
Warnings: nada
Summary: Meet Qensuna and Tunada.
Notes: This is pretty much what Kaitan's missing out on. I also don't have a good bead on Qensuna yet, which is kind of an ongoing problem for this character. :|
"I'm sorry, I've got feet made of clay," the boy apologized after botching his second attempt to hoist himself onto Qensuna's back. "I'll get it--"
Her ears were hot with embarrassment and it took a moment to still her feet. "Here, let me just--"
Never mind that they'd been told not to make it easy for the humans to mount up today, she dipped her damndably long forelegs into a gentle crouch. Qensuna did not really subscribe to the idea that anyone was supposed to get up onto her mountainous back without a little help. Ruben looked even more flustered at the offer, wringing his hands before reaching to make another attempt.
Her cloth saddle tugged as he wrapped his hands around the holds. She did her best to brace before he hoisted but he tried his jump a moment too soon, and she stumbled. The poor boy went down on his butt in the dirt with a yell. Qensuna yelped too, huffed dire embarrassment, tried not to plaster her ears so far back against her skull.
He wasn't even one of the Fensirt natives. She thought she'd have better luck with him, a tall and pale creature who'd arrived from Isiodith in this year's Exchange. He was skittish, though, all thumbs, and the entire afternoon they'd been feeding each others' nerves. Spotting him rubbing his eyes under the guise of dusting himself off, she glanced around and shifted her weight looking for an out. And she'd thought yesterday had been bad!
Instead she was startled by a voice behind her. "Here, let me show you another way to do that."
It took them both a moment to determine that he wasn't one of their teachers: the daemon who had approached them had an air of authority.
He came to a stop and hitched his shoulders in a deliberate gesture -- and then sighed. "That means dismount," he said, craning his neck to look at his own human passenger. The boy grinned and clumsily obliged.
The interloper was an older Rider -- not by a wide margin, but enough so that he wasn't still shaking off puberty like the rest of them. It had been three days of this and he'd easily established himself at the head of the pack on the first, which was unusual enough. Qensuna hadn't waylaid her usual gossip sources since training had begun, and now all of her initial curiosity rushed back. "Um," she offered, "I'm Qensuna."
"Tunada," he offered, offhand. "Come here--" He looked at the Isiodith human expectantly.
"Ruben, Ruben Veya," he sighed, running a hand through his sandy hair.
"So, Ruben, how are you with someone my size?" Tunada asked. Ruben shook out his hands, looked Tunada over and nodded, his lips a tight line. Next to the lanky Qensuna, the male Rider looked small -- but then, so did most people. "Good. Come over here. Right, now, hands on the saddle -- put more of your weight onto the stirrup. Like that."
Qensuna watched, tamping down jealousy at the easy mount. She shot a look at the human Tunada had carted over, who was rocking back on his heels, arms crossed and watching with a look of expectation. He grinned again, maybe nervously, when she caught his eye.
"Now. Don't get too comfortable," Tunada was telling Ruben as he side-stepped right into Qensuna's personal space. "You're not going to stay there. Pull your feet up," he instructed the young man, whose expression was getting increasingly dreadful. "Crouch on my back."
"Uhhh-- sir, I don't think I should--"
"What, is my back soft today? Boy, we're designed to carry your weight. Pull your feet up, set them on my ribs," the daemon insisted to the balking human. "Grab the handholds if you want. You're not going to break me."
"Ummm -- oh." Ruben's brows furrowed into great distressed creases. Tunada stood perfectly still, ears canted in amusement. Slowly, slowly, Ruben pulled his feet out of the stirrups and slid them up those furred flanks, sandals finding the most uncertain of purchases on the angles of Tunada's ribs. When he finally found his balance, he was crouched almost flat against the blue fur and his teeth were bared in a grimace. To his credit, he managed a grim "What's next?"
"Now push yourself up and grab her handles," Tunada instructed.
She almost laughed at the look on the human's face. Poor thing, there was really no going back now. Tunada had inched closer, and Ruben was already against Qensuna's side. He shot her a glance and she nodded encouragement, glad she wasn't the one trying to balance on someone's back.
He raised an arm and inched it over her side, and then followed it with the second once he'd found the first handle. There was a breathless moment where the young man was draped over both Riders.
Then Tunada twitched his back and Ruben yelped, giving a great tug that launched him onto Qensuna's back.
With a look that seemed built mostly of long tolerance, Tunada trotted away and turned to admire his handiwork. Ruben clutched at Qensuna, practically akimbo but technically astride.
When the older Rider turned away Ruben confided to Qensuna, "I don't think that was any easier than just trying the normal way again."
The other pair looped back around and Tunada offered, "Yes, but what if you ever had to climb up onto an asandus?" He seemed serious although his human laughed, and Qensuna watched as they turned and rejoined the traffic of their classmates. She was nursing a fascinated kind of irritation.
Ruben shifted in the saddle, bringing her back to the present. The bustle of bodies moving around the practice field and the calls and shouts of the teachers looking after one pair or another came back into focus and Qensuna found herself embarrassed to be standing still.
"Ready?" she prompted Ruben, hardly willing to wait for the affirmative before picking up her feet in a trot. He felt like a sack of flour behind her shoulders, like he had all day, but after three days of the same story with different humans, she wondered if that was the norm. Reflecting on the frustration of it, she wasn't aware that her ears were laid back in a deep frown, but she did feel Ruben tense and fidget with the training stirrup. So far, Rider training was not living up to her wildest dreams.
jkatkinaStory: Fensirt
Colors: Amber #10 (Clay), Skylight #7 (traffic noise)
Supplies and Styles: Stain: "There is no such thing as an underestimate of average intelligence." - Henry Adams. "I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it." - Groucho Marx
Word Count: 1076
Rating: G
Warnings: nada
Summary: Meet Qensuna and Tunada.
Notes: This is pretty much what Kaitan's missing out on. I also don't have a good bead on Qensuna yet, which is kind of an ongoing problem for this character. :|
"I'm sorry, I've got feet made of clay," the boy apologized after botching his second attempt to hoist himself onto Qensuna's back. "I'll get it--"
Her ears were hot with embarrassment and it took a moment to still her feet. "Here, let me just--"
Never mind that they'd been told not to make it easy for the humans to mount up today, she dipped her damndably long forelegs into a gentle crouch. Qensuna did not really subscribe to the idea that anyone was supposed to get up onto her mountainous back without a little help. Ruben looked even more flustered at the offer, wringing his hands before reaching to make another attempt.
Her cloth saddle tugged as he wrapped his hands around the holds. She did her best to brace before he hoisted but he tried his jump a moment too soon, and she stumbled. The poor boy went down on his butt in the dirt with a yell. Qensuna yelped too, huffed dire embarrassment, tried not to plaster her ears so far back against her skull.
He wasn't even one of the Fensirt natives. She thought she'd have better luck with him, a tall and pale creature who'd arrived from Isiodith in this year's Exchange. He was skittish, though, all thumbs, and the entire afternoon they'd been feeding each others' nerves. Spotting him rubbing his eyes under the guise of dusting himself off, she glanced around and shifted her weight looking for an out. And she'd thought yesterday had been bad!
Instead she was startled by a voice behind her. "Here, let me show you another way to do that."
It took them both a moment to determine that he wasn't one of their teachers: the daemon who had approached them had an air of authority.
He came to a stop and hitched his shoulders in a deliberate gesture -- and then sighed. "That means dismount," he said, craning his neck to look at his own human passenger. The boy grinned and clumsily obliged.
The interloper was an older Rider -- not by a wide margin, but enough so that he wasn't still shaking off puberty like the rest of them. It had been three days of this and he'd easily established himself at the head of the pack on the first, which was unusual enough. Qensuna hadn't waylaid her usual gossip sources since training had begun, and now all of her initial curiosity rushed back. "Um," she offered, "I'm Qensuna."
"Tunada," he offered, offhand. "Come here--" He looked at the Isiodith human expectantly.
"Ruben, Ruben Veya," he sighed, running a hand through his sandy hair.
"So, Ruben, how are you with someone my size?" Tunada asked. Ruben shook out his hands, looked Tunada over and nodded, his lips a tight line. Next to the lanky Qensuna, the male Rider looked small -- but then, so did most people. "Good. Come over here. Right, now, hands on the saddle -- put more of your weight onto the stirrup. Like that."
Qensuna watched, tamping down jealousy at the easy mount. She shot a look at the human Tunada had carted over, who was rocking back on his heels, arms crossed and watching with a look of expectation. He grinned again, maybe nervously, when she caught his eye.
"Now. Don't get too comfortable," Tunada was telling Ruben as he side-stepped right into Qensuna's personal space. "You're not going to stay there. Pull your feet up," he instructed the young man, whose expression was getting increasingly dreadful. "Crouch on my back."
"Uhhh-- sir, I don't think I should--"
"What, is my back soft today? Boy, we're designed to carry your weight. Pull your feet up, set them on my ribs," the daemon insisted to the balking human. "Grab the handholds if you want. You're not going to break me."
"Ummm -- oh." Ruben's brows furrowed into great distressed creases. Tunada stood perfectly still, ears canted in amusement. Slowly, slowly, Ruben pulled his feet out of the stirrups and slid them up those furred flanks, sandals finding the most uncertain of purchases on the angles of Tunada's ribs. When he finally found his balance, he was crouched almost flat against the blue fur and his teeth were bared in a grimace. To his credit, he managed a grim "What's next?"
"Now push yourself up and grab her handles," Tunada instructed.
She almost laughed at the look on the human's face. Poor thing, there was really no going back now. Tunada had inched closer, and Ruben was already against Qensuna's side. He shot her a glance and she nodded encouragement, glad she wasn't the one trying to balance on someone's back.
He raised an arm and inched it over her side, and then followed it with the second once he'd found the first handle. There was a breathless moment where the young man was draped over both Riders.
Then Tunada twitched his back and Ruben yelped, giving a great tug that launched him onto Qensuna's back.
With a look that seemed built mostly of long tolerance, Tunada trotted away and turned to admire his handiwork. Ruben clutched at Qensuna, practically akimbo but technically astride.
When the older Rider turned away Ruben confided to Qensuna, "I don't think that was any easier than just trying the normal way again."
The other pair looped back around and Tunada offered, "Yes, but what if you ever had to climb up onto an asandus?" He seemed serious although his human laughed, and Qensuna watched as they turned and rejoined the traffic of their classmates. She was nursing a fascinated kind of irritation.
Ruben shifted in the saddle, bringing her back to the present. The bustle of bodies moving around the practice field and the calls and shouts of the teachers looking after one pair or another came back into focus and Qensuna found herself embarrassed to be standing still.
"Ready?" she prompted Ruben, hardly willing to wait for the affirmative before picking up her feet in a trot. He felt like a sack of flour behind her shoulders, like he had all day, but after three days of the same story with different humans, she wondered if that was the norm. Reflecting on the frustration of it, she wasn't aware that her ears were laid back in a deep frown, but she did feel Ruben tense and fidget with the training stirrup. So far, Rider training was not living up to her wildest dreams.
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This is only the second chunk of writing I've put up on this comm, so you haven't missed much. ;) Now's a good time to hop on the wagon if you're interested!