Broken Feather (Attn: Avyra)

Welcome to the Gardens: one of the most tranquil areas of the Tower Grounds.
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Welcome to the Gardens: one of the most tranquil areas of the Tower Grounds. Birds sing in the trees which line the wide paths between beautiful flower beds and serene lakes. There are benches to sit and listen to the waterfall, and there is neatly trimmed grass to lie on and rest. Novices and Soldiers as well as Warders in Training can be seen, sweeping the stone paths as Accepted and Dedicated study from books and relax under leafy trees.
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Craig
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Joined: November 20th, 2015, 10:29 am
PC: Ravak t'Sha'hal Darrow
SC: Elia Darrow
TC: Zarayne
QC: Farah Kattan
Location: Scotland

Broken Feather (Attn: Avyra)

Post by Craig » March 29th, 2017, 1:43 pm

Zarayne [subtitle]"Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free."[/subtitle]
The air was filled with birdsong. Nestled in the trees all around the Tower's gardens were chirps and warbles and shrill cries. It also helped to mute the soft swishing of a training blade being moved around in strikes and slashes, in a hollow between various bushes and flowers, well concealed from the prying eyes of others.

Only partially protected by the shade of a leatherleaf, Zarayne moved around the open space, dancing in and out of sunlight. Her wooden sword did not move with the practised grace and beauty of her father, but there was a competence in her forms. She practiced when she could, in most of those few free hours that novices were afforded. It meant sacrificing additional contact with her fellow novices and soldiers, or even her father, but this was important. Important for her, not a directive handed down from on high.

The cry of something unlike the rest of the birdsong halted Zarayne mid-swing. She looked up as a shadow flew overhead and seemed to crash into the branches of a tree overhead. Leaves fluttered down towards her.

The novice's attention was interrupted yet again as something moved towards her through the underbrush. She turned, raising her sword up into a mid-guard. Dax Gaidin had been successful in warding away her previous 'teachers', but she wouldn't have been surprised to see those Drin coming back in here to taunt her further.

Fortunately, the figure that emerged from the thicket was not grey-clad. Zarayne spotted the band of colour around the Accepted's dress and dropped the point of her sword down towards the ground immediately. It was a struggle to keep a touch of red from her cheeks, but she otherwise held herself quite still, unsure what punishment or the like was about to be unleashed upon her.
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Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

Avyra
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Re: Broken Feather (Attn: Avyra)

Post by Avyra » April 1st, 2017, 2:50 am

Avyra had gone hunting with Tempest, in the further areas of the Gardens where not many ventured. The gyrfalcon took the lead in the trees, flying through a thicket. Avyra huffed and paused, then followed her, pushing aside leaves to enter a clearing.

And almost found a sword in her throat. She stopped, eyes widening slightly, as she looked up-and up- at her attacker. A Novice. She had dropped the sword's tip, her eyes somehow wider than Avyra's were. Her cheeks had reddened.

Avyra knew she was Aiel. Her heart subconsciously stung, but she hid it perfectly with a smile.

Why did an Aiel have a sword?

"Hi," she said, almost uncertainly. "Did you happen to see a pure white falcon fly by? I seem to have lost-" She stopped, hearing bells jingling up in the trees.

She tilted her head up at the noise, wistling and holding her glove out, tapping it. Said bird gave a few chitters and flew down to the glove, swallowing the tidbit of meat Avyra had put on it.

"Well, nevermind. I do believe this is my falcon." She paused, looking at the Novice curiously. "And what might you be doing out here all alone? With a sword? What punishment can I produce for you...?" She put a face of dark, mock intensity for a few moments, then laughed. "I'm just pulling your leg! What's your name?"

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Craig
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Joined: November 20th, 2015, 10:29 am
PC: Ravak t'Sha'hal Darrow
SC: Elia Darrow
TC: Zarayne
QC: Farah Kattan
Location: Scotland

Re: Broken Feather (Attn: Avyra)

Post by Craig » April 3rd, 2017, 1:59 pm

Zarayne
Zarayne tried to follow the emotions that beamed out from the Accepted. The novice felt at ease when she received a smile, then concern when there was the mention of a punishment. Now she was struggling with the laughter. Wetlanders... Zarayne squeezed her eyes shut for a half second just to straighten out her thoughts.

Honouring wetlander acquiescence, Zarayne dipped into a formal curtsy. Her free hand raised one half of her skirts, whilst her other remained on the hilt of the training sword. The bottom of her white dress was already marred from kicked up mud, but at least one half was held off the ground. "I am Zarayne, Accepted."

Straightening, the Aielwoman's interest shifted towards the animal on the Accepted's glove. A falcon? She'd seen plenty of birds at home, and plenty more here in the Grey Tower, but never this close up. Nor anything so intimidating. The way it savaged the meat proffered to it reminded Zarayne of a two-step. Death can be found in the smallest things.

Looking away, Zarayne spotted the Accepted's interest in her sword. Rather than wait for chastisement, the taller woman hurriedly spoke. "I have permission to train from one of the Gaidin." She paused to consider how to phrase the rest of her defence. Being allowed to train was one thing, but why wasn't she in the Yards? She wouldn't lie, but she wouldn't incur any toh neither. Her lips pursed together before she happened upon a suitably Aes Sedai answer. "I train better alone," she admitted, "that's why I'm here."
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Elan wrote:Of course, the problems with observing a chain of command arise when the one in command decides to do something unspeakably idiotic, like taking off on his own for no discernible reason in the middle of enemy territory.

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