toggle quoted messageShow quoted text
"Ach, he's fine." Bl'by was more than up for wrestling with the young wher. The owner he might have been nervous around, but Pochi was just fine and he spent a happy minute or so greeting Pochi with a rough and thorough caress before remembering that he was indeed wary of the owner.
"Sorry, Goldrider," he apologised belatedly. "I'm distracting you from your walk."
> She wasn't the only one enjoying the lack of heat. Between having tentative permission to return to drills and the change in the weather Bl'by was feeling positively bouncy and full of energy in a way he hadn't in a long while. A walk around the Lake felt positively obligatory, or even a jog. Or a run, revelling in the feeling of his body moving, properly moving, of actually being properly tired enough to stop and not just wheezing so much that he couldn't keep going.
> Steady. Get carried away and the Healers would snatch him off drills as quickly as they allowed him on there. Still he was moving with more ease and speed than he had since he had arrived and reacted on pure instinct seeing the young wher, forgetting for a second who owned it and crouching to call it.
For a long moment, Pochi went on guard when someone other than his
human called out his name. Andronda had been working a great deal on
his training, and with their bond to strengthen it, so he didn't bound
up to just anyone anymore. But then the breeze carried the scent of
the man to him, and it was one that the blue wher recognized well. It
was the man that His left him with from time to time, the one who
sometimes had treats in his pockets for Pochi.
~~See friend!~~ Pochi told Andronda. ~~Go see?!~~
With a laugh, Andronda agreed, and walked forward with Pochi, who
pulled eagerly towards Bl'by.
"Be gentle, Pochi," Andronda made certain to order. She knew that the
blue rider was always nervous around her, she didn't want to make it
worse because her wher roughed him up.
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown
Blackadder: I mean, what about the people that do all the work?
Baldrick: The servants.
Blackadder: No, me; *I'm* the people who do all the work.