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Home is Where Your Heart Isn't; [Iyandrel; Standalone/Open]
Topic Started: Apr 18 2015, 08:38 PM (140 Views)
Pandion
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Strange Bird
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Iyansk did not seem to mind the weight of the second rider on his back, though admittedly Iyandrel's little brother weighed hardly anything at all. The pair of humans was silent as they approached Vaioa in the dead of night; neither of them had slept much, and neither was much up for conversation. Fortunately, Iyansk filled the void with a constant steady hum and an idle description of everything they came across in their travels.

This rock, that bush, wherry live there--good eat, very tasty. Chewy, though. Sky pretty, pretty. Many shiny light, cloud--sand, sand, sand. What make sand? So much sand. Rock make sand? Sand like rock--very tiny rock, tiny tiny tiny, he babbled to the pair, tail steadily swishing to and fro as he trotted along. He was desperately trying to ignore the sadness and exhaustion rolling off of them, his eyes flickering constantly between contented greens and anxious yellows.

Iyandrel said nothing, neither encouraging or discouraging her wher from speaking as her brother half-dozed in his position in front of her. She had an arm wrapped around him, holding him close as she held fast to the wher's straps with the other. They were all each other had left, now; Ylvenar--Y'nar--was useless now, off with his head quite literally in the clouds as he rode a blue dragon into the sunset like some hero of old. She scoffed at the idea. That boy never should have been anything more than a drudge. Erithan, at least, had a future at Vaioa. She'd find him some sort of work when he got older--something respectable, something with the same quiet dignity he'd always had since he came into the world.

Their mother had never returned. Not knowing what happened to her was almost worse than the certainty of her father's death.

When they finally arrived, she brushed off the guards by the gates and promptly turned Iyansk for their quarters in the Wherhandler tunnels. Once near the tunnels, she dismounted and shifted to help the sleepy 11-Turn-old off her wher's back.

"We're here," she murmured, still ushering him protectively close to her. "There are lots of whers around, but don't be afraid. All of them are tame here."

Erithan nodded, face a perfect image of unconcerned stoicism utterly contrary to his youthful features.

"I'm not scared," he replied, gently patting Iyansk's side as the creature thrummed softly. "Is this where you live?"

She grimaced as they made their way down the tunnels to her quarters.

"I... suppose it is, now."

"It's nice. Looks safe, and clean."

"Yeah," she muttered, giving a sharp glare toward the few passing wherhandlers she saw in the halls.

Good home! Iyansk hatch here. Iyansk get big and strong! Little Iyan get big an' strong here, too! Big like Iyansk, the wher interjected, tail wagging happily as he led the way to the door before stopping in front of it and firmly planting his rump on the ground. Home!

Iyandrel said nothing. Instead, she opened the door--and sighed as Murdoch rocketed toward her with angry shrieks, utterly indignant at having been left alone for so long.

"All right, all right," she grumbled, letting the wherry settle on her outstretched arm. "Iyansk, get Erithan settled. I'm gonna go feed this stopped-up tailfork."

Iyansk good boy! Iyansk keep little Iyan safe, the pale brown wher replied, beaming a snaggle-toothed 'grin' as he ushered the boy inside. The door remained open as Iyandrel made her way through the quarters to try and find her angry diver something to eat.

'Home.' The word chafed her. She never intended for Vaioa to be her home, nor for her brother to ever have to join her in this cesspit that destroyed her real home. But what more could she do? Warryn was as good as dead, and Rubikon would never be the same.
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