Who F'inn, K'zre
What A camping trip takes an interesting turn when proddy emotions run wild.
When Autumn - Month ?? of Turn 2719 (this scene is backdated)
Where Unknown location, Fort Weyr territory

finn_default.png kez-bw.png


Camp Grounds - Fort Weyr
A clearing by a stream. There's no actual desc. Please use the power of ~imagination~!

DISCLAIMER: There's a bit of cursing, and talk of blood and killing/hunting


K'zre left just before the sun rose. A kiss for F'inn, along with a murmur that he was going hunting, and he leaves the warmth and comfort of the furs for the chill of the dawn forest, determined to bring them back enough to make a decent lunch and dinner. And he is successful, in that he makes a kill or two. But it's slow going, and he's gone for much of the morning. And Yas? Yasminath is Not. Happy. Not even a LITTLE happy, which in and of itself is unusual for the otherwise bubbly green. She's hunkered down against Nymionth, looking miserable and occasionally uttering a pitiful little whine. If dragons could cry, she'd totally be crying. At least she's keeping up a nice, constant stream of « He's fine, » and her general mood seems to be sadness rather than panic or worry, in case one was to misinterpret all that upset. « He's fine, but he KILLED A BUNNY! » WAIL. « It was cute, and fluffy and now it's DEAD! Dead dead dead! » Which is clearly the Worst Thing Ever (tm).

Nymionth is despondent, because no matter he does, or says, there is no consoling Yasminath. He is, however, trying. Trying hard enough that the air is filled with the scent of roses and his soothing croon? Louder then it has ever been. « There are many, many bunnies, Yasminath. » Which is the pointedly wrong thing to say. But lets face it, there is no right thing to say in this situation. « It will be alright » he promises while sheltering her more snuggley under his wing. Course, with Nymionth's particular qualities, F'inn is not at all immune to the trauma and is alternating between pacing the clearing, trying to help Nym sooth the little green, and getting more and more worried about K'zre. "Is she /sure/ he's fine? Do I need to go look for him?" THAT? That would be a disaster, he cannot track and is not going to pretend he can. "We should have gone with fish," he murmurs as he drags his hands through his hair.

« It will NOT be alright! » argues Yasminath, her voice reaching glass-shattering pitches with her indignation and sorrow. « THAT bunny is dead now! He's dead! » Back to sobbing, which is a peculiar thing for a dragon, given she doesn't have tears to shed, and her voice is within her head. There's even a little hiccupping stutter to it, as if she were fighting to speak through the tears. « Dead. » As if repeating it makes it somehow MORE true than it already is. As for Kez? « He is fine, » she repeats, 'sniffling' unnecessarily. « He's… coming back. » And sure. Physically, K'zre is fine. He's whole. He's uninjured. Emotionally? Well… >.> Yas isn't the only one responding poorly to the situation. « All he wanted was a little morning run. Just a little skip through the woods, maybe a picnic by the water. Maybe to watch the sun rise in the meadow. And now he's DEAD! » She's… talking about the rabbit, of course. (Someone has been read a few too many stories…). « AND YOU'RE GOING TO EAT HIM! » That is for Kez, who has at least managed to hide the evidence of his kill by stuffing it into the bag on his shoulder. Even if the evidence of what it wrought is written clear across his face: puffy eyes and tear stains and a clench-jawed look that says he's fighting against more of the same.

Nym and F'inn share a LOOK, it is a look that has been shared between men dealing with emotional chaos since the dawn of time. It is a look that screams, 'Oh GOD, help, what do we do'. Sadly, there is no god on Pern and there is no answer from the proverbial heavens for that unconcious plea. "Yas… It's just dinner." Which immediately has Nym's head whipping around toward F'inn in a warning look. "Oh.. Uh.. It's… Right." « It will be alright,» Nymionth soothes. « They need to eat just like we do » Course, he does not expect the reminder to help, at all. Fortunately, or not (it has yet to be known for sure) F'inn spots K'zre and immediately steps towarrd him. Those steps quicken, however, at the signs of tears on the Greenrider's face. "Oh.. sweetheart…" He's immediately reaching for the bag to whisk it away. There is no way they can possibly eat the rabbit, now. "Are you alright…?"

Wail! « But they don't hafta eat meat! » Poor Kez. He might just rue the day he told Yasminath about vegetarians. « They can eat the plants! They can eat the green things — LIKE THE BUNNY USED TO EAT! » And into another round of near-hysterics she goes, turning to stuff her head against Nymionth because even if she'd like to crawl into K'zre's lap, he's far too small for such a thing and HE KILLED THE BUNNY IN THE FIRST PLACE! The greenrider in question lifts a hand (notably, still bloody) and rubs it across his now-bloody and tear-stained face, and just shakes his head. And then his arms are going around F'inn, and that face is being pressed into his weyrmate's neck, and he's basically losing it all over again. "I was… I was fine… It was fine until…" Until he actually took the shot. Until 'observing' the rabbit became 'killing' the rabbit, which is what started all this upset for the green, and now the greenrider. "This… is… ridiculous," he declares between sobs.

Nym coils himself around Yasminath, doing his level best to shield and soothe while trying desperately not to cut her off from her rider. He's getting a little distraught, himself. Which means F'inn is getting a little distraught and is all to quick to wrap his arms around K'zre. "It's alright," he soothes even as Nymionth croons. "We'll just.. We'll give it a burial and make vegetable soup." Course, the moment he says it, his shoulders give a little shake, his lips pressing tight to hold back the laugh rising in his throat. It. Is. Not. Funny. And really, he tries to remind himself of that, but… it is pretty damned funny, at the same time. Course, K'zre's crying. Yasminath is wailing. Nymionth is crooning. F'inn? Fighting like hell to keep it together. "Hunting was a bad idea."

Now that K'zre is back, and has promised not to kill any more bunnies (because he's as much of an emotional wreck over it as she is right now), Yasminath is finally starting to calm down. At least, she's stopped proclaiming her misery to the world at large, and has settled for little whimpers and some dramatic sniffling. But now that he's 'home' and in F'inn's arms, Kez apparently cannot STOP crying. It's the sort of thing that just compounds on itself — he's upset that he's upset, which in turn makes him MORE upset. Until there's just tears and sobbing and broken hiccups of breath when he can manage it. If he wasn't so dang miserable, he might have joined in with some eyerolling and a few point-blank retorts about the food chain and natural selection and how at least he killed it quick! But it's Yasminath, whom he loves. And she's proddy, so he's feeling *EVERYTHING*, and in an abundance, too. But eventually he does manage to get himself under control enough to speak again, though he's basically using F'inn as a means of staying upright. "It wasn't," he argues. "It was a good idea. Until… until…" Until it wasn't. "Ugh." A deep breath from both green and greenrider alike. "I just… I couldn't… Ugh."

F'inn exhales a breath, reminding himself over and over and over that it is Proddy, the world is not ending, everything will be fine. Unfortunately, K'zre's emotions are projected WAY more clearly to him then anyone else and he simply can't stand to know he's upset. "We're not eating it," he decides in final tones. In the wake of them, K'zre is scooped up off his feet, craddled gently in his arms as he turns and heads back toward the tent. Mere moments after ducking through the flap, a cookie is snagged and pressed into K'zre's hand, F'inn's gaze concerned as he settles down on the furs with the greenrider in his lap. "It's all going to be fine," he promises as he tilts his head to rest his brow against his weyrmate's. "Yasminath is just very emotional right now. It will pass." And lordy, he is shielding like a motherfucker not to feel it from Nym.

Wuffling softly, Yasminath just squishes herself as close to Nymionth as she can possibly get, consoled only by the knowledge that her poor, dead bunny (whom she has named Fred) will be buried and rest in peace. And NOT cooked in a stew and eaten. K'zre, who is curling himself into F'inn the moment he's swept up into his arms, is consoled by the reminder and the logic that this is just proddy. That it will end. That he hasn't gone completely mad and is crying over a dead rabbit for no reason. The cookie is taken, eyed forlornly for a moment, and then tentatively nibbled on. "I know," comes between bites, a sadly stated murmur that is offered in tones of misery. A little sniffle, and he's biting off a bit of that cookie and twisting his other hand into F'inn's shirt. "I thought it would be alright," he explains, miserable. "I talked to her about it… I explained…" but clearly, that was not enough. "And then… And then… I just, I feel it. I'm trying not to…" because he'd dearly like to not feel guilty and heartbroken over this. "But it's like… It's like the first time all over again." Except worse.

F'inn exhales a breath, one hand sweeping out to break off a bit of cookie and pop it in his own mouth. He's shielding, but it is a lot to shield. "I know… Believe me, I know." He has the same problem with Nymionth. There are times that not being impacted by whatever the bronze is feeling is completely impossible. Taking a bite of the cookie, he grimaces mildly and sets it back down, nuzzling K'zre's forhead, instead. "I'll take care of the bunny," he promises. "She'll calm down." Eventually. Maybe. After she's done glowing. "Just remind yourself this sweetness is what makes her Yasminath. And what makes you, you." He loves them both and he's all to happy to offer whatever comfort he can. "We'll work on the stew another time. Probably go camping with the runners, eh?" Or, at the very least, non-proddy dragons.

"I know…" comes with a bit of a hiccup. "She's…" She is just who she is, and Kez wouldn't change a thing about her. And for a moment, the swell of love is enough to send him back into tears. Because there's just no stopping those hormones right now. "Ugh, fuck…" because this sucks. It sucks that it sucks, and it sucks that Kez can't stop it. So instead, he just stuffs the rest of that cookie in his mouth before he can say anything else, and chews it with a vengeance. The mention of taking care of the bunny has him shaking his head rapidly for a moment, though it's only once he's swallowed that he can clarify with, "Don't let her see it!" in a voice just shy of hysteric, hands twisting in F'inn's shirt as if he means to stop him. "Don't let her see… just… take him somewhere behind the trees…" a grimace, and he adds, "It was a good kill, too… right through the eye…" Of course, reminiscing has him tearing up again himself. "I'm sorry," comes with a press of his head into the bronzerider's neck as he tries to stop the fresh wave of sobs from taking over. "I'm sorry…"

"Shhhhh," F'inn murmurs in soothing tones. "She won't see a thing. I promise." Course, he's hard pressed to set K'zre down, particularly with the renewed tears. "You wait right here," he murmurs as he rolls onto one knee and puts the box of cookies in K'zre's lap. "I'll slip out and take care of it all quick as you please." Fortunately, he has Nymionth to distract Yasminath. That is a LOT of bronze to act as a shield. "I'll be right back," he promises as he cups K'zre's cheeks and brushes a tender kiss to his cookie crumb lips. "Drink water with those," is added as he slips back out of the tent and snags the bag. True to his word, and with Nymionth flaring his wings, F'inn dashes into the woods, going further up stream before settling on a place to bury the bunny. "Alright you little homewrecker," he mutters to the sack. "Lets get this handled." Cracking his neck, he grabs a stick and goes about the business of digging a bunny-sized hole (It is, in fact, more then deep enough to discourage predators from digging it up) before settling the sack in the ground. "Sorry, FuFu," he murmurs as he pushes the dirt back over the hole. "You'd have been great stew."

The emotional, irrational part of K'zre does not want to let him go. Even if he knows he'll be right back, there's a moment in which the greenrider clings all the tighter, leaning into that kiss and looking very close to bursting into a fresh wave of tears when F'inn pulls away. He settles for stuffing another cookie into his mouth before he can cry, nodding in silent acceptance for the instruction to drink water, and watches with red-rimmed eyes as the bronzerider leaves. And then, of course, there's the sudden rush of 'things he should have said' that nearly has Kez up and chasing after him. Yasminath isn't looking, either way. She's pressing her face into Nymionth's side and sullenly and snifflingly recounting the wonderful, adventurous life of Fred the Bunny so the bronze can properly mourn him, too. But by the time F'inn returns from his terrible task, Yas has fallen into an emotionally-drained sleep, and Kez is looking a little less like he might suddenly burst into tears again. To be fair, he still looks fairly miserable. But there's an evenness to his breathing, and he's managed to make a fair dent in those cookies (and drunk plenty of water, too).

Nymionth is doing his level best to mourn right along with Yasminath. It helps, of course, that he can feel her emotions. Doesn't matter that Bob the Bunny is made up. The bronze is right there, crooning in Bob's honor and washing the clearing the heady scent of roses. For his part, F'inn is relieved to see Yasminath and Nymionth cuddled up and asleep and more relieved to find that his weyrmate is not still sobbing. "Handled," he murmurs as he pulls off his gloves and boots and throws himself to the furs next to K'zre. "I marked the spot in case she wants to see it later." Which was probably silly, but he wasn't about to make up a burial spot if asked. Resting his weight on one elbow, he reaches out with his other hand, snagging the thermos and taking a long swallow of the water. "How are they," he asks with a tilt of his chin toward the box of cookies.

A shake of his head and, once he's swallowed his latest bite of cookie, Kez murmurs, "I'm hoping she'll forget." The blessing of short, draconic memories. "I'd rather not be reminded of what a terrible creature I am…" even if Yasminath doesn't mean to make him feel so guilty for it, he IS the one who killed the rabbit. A sigh, and he offers the cookies to F'inn without a second thought, shoving the last bite of his into his mouth and brushing the crumbs from his fingers. "I'm sure they're delicious," he provides, shoving the rest out of the way so he can lay down and wiggle over to squish himself up against his weyrmate. "But I didn't really taste them…" He was just shoving cookies in his mouth. Emotional eating at its best! "I'm sorry…" comes again, apologetic rather than hysterical, face pressed into F'inn's shoulder. "I… I didn't… if I'd known, I wouldn't have tried…"

F'inn sets the cookies aside untasted, he's not at all willing to get back into old habits. With the tin out of the way, he winds his arms around K'zre, tucking him against his chest as he settles comfortably on the furs. "It's fiiiiine," he assures with a nuzzle to the greenrider's temple. "At least you are feeling better." And right now? That's the most important thing to F'inn. "We'll head back in the morning," he assures. "She's going to be napping for a while." Course, there is a flicker of worry for that, coupled with an embarassingly smug smile at them being way out here away from other males. "Everything is fine," he soothes. "There are always more cookies. You'll have more then your fill of them when we work out our recipes."

K'zre stiffens, hands briefly bracing on F'inn's chest to push himself back so he can crane a look up at his face. "I don't want to go back," comes quickly, a flicker of that previous hysteria in the edges of his voice. "I don't… I want to stay here. I want to stay right where we are, with just you, and me. And Nymionth…" Because Kez is under no illusions; Yasminath is going up and she's going up soon. "I don't care about the cookies." It's only half a lie; Kez definitely cares about those cookies right now. But he cares more about making himself clear. "I don't want them. I just… I want to stay here, F'inn." And once more, he's curling into his embrace, hands grasping roughly at his shirt. "I don't want to go back until she's caught."

F'inn blinks a few times, one hand raising to cup K'zre's cheek. "Alright, then we will stay here," he assures. "Far away from anyone else." Nymionth will certainly be glad of that. "I'll have to go back to grab us food," he points out. "But we can be quick, Nym and I, in and out before anyone is the wiser." In the wake of the words, he settles on his back, drawing K'zre atop him and a fur over them both. He's relieved at the suggestion and it is more then clear with a glimpse at his face. "I didn't want to think about the possibility of anyone else catching her," he whispers. "This is better." This? Is a very good idea.

"Be fast," comes in a low whisper, K'zre's arms wrapping as best they can around his weyrmate to hold him tight. "Go tonight," he encourages, suddenly all too keenly aware of just how emotional he was, and how close Yasminath might be. "She… I don't want…" The idea of Yasminath going up without Nymionth present, with the possibility of someone else showing up? Not one he wants to entertain. A hard swallow and a deeper breath, and he's settling. Somewhat. "I don't want to think about it, either," he agrees, shivering briefly for the thought. "Last time… with Szorvilkyth…" It was too close. "What if you hadn't been there?" A quick shake of his head and another deep breath is taken before he can speak again. "We should just… stay."

"But I was there," F'inn reminds. And Kaet stepped aside. Cupping K'zre's head in his hand he draws him down for a tender kiss, the expression in his eyes gentle. "I'll go tonight, after they wake up." Just to be certain that she doesn't wake and rise. "I'll bring back enough food to last us the rest of the sevenday and more furs." Really? This is another fine reason why his chalet in the mountains is sounding better and better. But that is a suggestion he'll save for when K'zre is not overly emotional. "No one is laying hands on you if I can prevent it," he promises. "And if I am ever not there? If that ever happens? I will be there to scoop you up and bring you home and do everything in my power to remind who you belong with."

K'zre can do nothing but nod mutely, the rise of emotions too strong for him to risk speaking. It's love and gratitude for the promise, and fear and uncertainty for the unknown. It's the out of control emotions ping-ponging around him even with Yasminath asleep, still strong enough to make him clench his jaw and ball his fists against the prickling sensation that threatens tears. So a nod of his head, and a shuddering sigh, are all he can manage at the moment. A few seconds later, and he's steadier. Enough to speak, at least. "I don't… I don't think she'll take the week…" he admits. "She's… I don't know. But she's close." But the knowledge that there will be provisions to last is a comforting one. "Do you… do we need to start making the stew?" The now vegetarian version.

F'inn exhales a quiet laugh, his head giving a slow shake. "It's been on the fire for hours," he assures. "We have more then enough time to take a nap before it'll be ready." Course, there will be no roasted rabbit in the stew, but he's fine with that thought. "Right now," he urges as he circles K'zre with both arms. "I'm where I need to be. Everything else can just wait." Cause he's not about to budge. Unless, of course, it's to cuddle the greenrider in closer. "As for how long it takes? Doesn't matter. We're waiting as long as it takes."

"Alright…" And truly, there is relief in K'zre's tone. Because staying right where they are is exactly what he wants to do. "I just want it to be you and me," comes in a low murmur. "Like the first time." A reach of his hand seeks to draw the fur up even further, until they're entirely hidden from the world. Even if 'the world' is their own tent and private little camping spot on the beach. Safe and sound and warm. A sigh, and he's doing his best to curl up and bury his face against F'inn's throat, surrounding himself with his weyrmate's presence. "A nap sounds good…" he admits.

"It's always you and me," F'inn assures in the warm fur shrouded darkness. "Until the end of time, it will be just you and me." He's determined to make sure that is the case, that there is never more cause for K'zre to hate Proddy. At the last, he rolls them both onto their sides, tucking K'zre snug against his chest before wrapping him up in arms and legs. "Napping is perfect," he agrees. He has no intention of going anywhere until much later and certainly not without his weyrmate's knowledge. Course, he's making a mental note to pack a LOT of sweets for the trip back to the campsite.


Add a New Comment