Centrifuge (Vig)

Ava's Room
This room is *new*, new as in new-to-you, the current occupant having recently moved in clearly has not had time to decorate. The bare minimum presents itself upon entry, an old couch, a table and a set of chairs. The adjoining room one can rightly assume contains much of the same style, an old bed and attached furnishings.

Ava's settling in priorities have clearly been cast elsewhere in the Weyr, her small chest of personal items still being lived out of, though a few small baubles and figures have been set atop counters and lampstands, mostly shells found on the nearby beach and a potted plant or two.

A symphony of senses, the slow beginning, the gentle build before the dramatic thunder that shakes Ava to her bones.

The humid air mass breaks across her in waves as she slips free of the resident hall confines, a thin gown tugged tightly to her frame, hands cupping her elbows. She moves in a slow trance across the clearing, her attention trained to the sky above her as the charge of summer storms swells around her, within her. Bare feet continue to propel her forward as the acrid scent of ozone announces itself with a brilliant flash, followed by a sundering crash and rain begins to fall.

The rich scent of petrichor swells in the updraft, potpourri of the summer storms, the smell of tension released and the cooling rains left to wash away the anxiety in the wake of the breaking storm.

The distressed cry of her little brown drowns out Ava's own chokes noise, the tiny thing coiling around her neck and keening in distress, even as her fingers reflexively dance over the little one's wings. "Rukaban, darlin', I'm fine." Ava swallows against the anxiety in her throat as the little empath echoes back her nightmares, laced with confusion at the images. "Dreams," Ava stammers out and exhales rapidly as the rain soaks her though, wind slapping the wet gown against her legs as she tries to explain the nightmares that managed to find her once more.

"Like, when you sleep in the sun, except itchy like trundle bugs and unnerving like spinners." She paces the clearing and edge of the meadow under the stormy skies, her fingers wiggling to annotate the creeping feeling. Why was she explaining her anxieties to the little thing? Her fingers rub though her hair as another crack of thunder brings a pleading creel to return back inside, yellow eyes gazing up at her earnestly. Only at the tiny thing's behest did Ava reluctantly turn from the storm.

Two cold meat rolls fetched and she's back in her room, the morsels quickly broken up across her table. While Rukaban eats, keening all the while Ava strips and drapes her wet clothes over the back of a wooden chair, clean and dry garments pulled on with exhausted frustration. It's only when the lights are out and she flopped on her back does a long sigh escape, palms lifting to scrub at her eyes before a groaning sigh escapes.

Prickly claws scrabbling across her chest draw her hands to the little bronze now settling there, fingers idly rubbing the warm hide as he darts his tongue out to lick his muzzle. "The woman in the nightmare was my mother." Ava rumbles to the little brown, those previously yellow eyes seeping closer to green now. "She's…a complicated matter." Ava broods for a moment on exactly what her mother is to her, one finger idly rubbing the little head as it settles on her chest, eyes slowly lidding. "Really should see a mindhealer over these dreams but.." A have lifts to roll aimlessly in the air. "Feels like it would be easier to just keep running from it, rather than deal with it most of the time."

Ava's head lifts and looks down at her torso, the juvenile firelizard now sound asleep, crumbs still clinging to his paws. She spares the small creature a half smile before her head rocks back and thuds against the pillow. Outside the storm still rages and as she stares up into the ceiling, there is no surprise it still wages within her, as well.

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