These Wings Are Made To Fly

Xanadu Weyr - Garden
An arch woven from the tendrils of a willow tree stretches overhead lightly creeping with ivy as one steps in from the meadow into this sanctuary of green. Cool gray flagstone carefully spaced enables a soft velvety moss to thrive within the cracks, and creates a single wide pathway that fluidly breaks off into two paths of stone once free of the natural arbor. It is a wonder this place, and meticulously tended from the way it seems not a single leaf is out of place.
On either side of the main path expansive grassy patches are trimmed short and edged behind with natural tan colored stone selectively chosen to stack just right. Beyond these are a line of fine puffed shrubberies in vibrant green intermingled with flowering bushes of brilliant pinks varying in hue from the very light to the very dark, which causes the occasional snowy white blossoms of other scattered here and there without worry to simply pop out of the scenery.
Directly in the center of the garden is another wall of intricately stacked stone, this of muted grays, creating what from the air would prove to be a perfect circle. It's been set high for safety, but not so much as one would not be able to lean over it to admire what lies beyond, either standing or sitting at the smattering of benches whose backs are set every four feet along it. Flush to the ground inside it's protective stone outcropping, is an enormous twenty foot wide fish pond. Within one can glean the metallic glint of playful goldfish, the unhurried cruise of fat koi, and even a frog or three among pale yellow and white flowering water lilies and their thick green pads.
The trees surrounding the entire garden were planted to give the impression that they had always been here, not only lending to a rustic look, but also alluding to the beauty that can be found among the wilds if only one might just look for it. Species vary from the ordinary Birch and Pine, but the flaming red capsules of the Indian Shot to the robust orange spokes of the Firewheel tree suggest the spice of the exotic.

It's Xanadu! It's spring! The avians are singing, the grass is growing, the trees are budding, the flowers starting to bloom. It's lovely. A little chilly, but LOVELY. Honest. Technically, starcrafters would be tucked away in their little cots to dream the dream of the delights that night bring this morning, but one…just that one right there…happens to be walking along the top of the wall over there. Strolling really as if it were perfectly normal to be all the way up there, hands in his pockets, humming something entirely tunelessly with his hands shoved deep into the light weather appropriate jacket. His dark blonde hair was pulled back away from his face, seen from behind as a short and kinda curly little runner tail that was hardly worth the description. It was sad really. See, tear. Can hair cry? Hmm. Anyway, yes, there Valerian is. Walking. On a wall. Probably about to slip and fall and break his neck.

And there's little Fioreyla, tucked away in the relative safety of Xanadu Weyr's garden, kneeling in the dirt pulling herbs from the earth to settle in a bundle on a piece of cloth. She's conferring with a textbook that's open beside her, the spine lying flat, completely overdressed for spring in Xanadu because she's wearing a peacoat, and a scarf, and gloves. Apparently the little healer didn't think to dress down from Fort's winter once she'd landed in the warmer climes of Xanadu, and the heat hasn't seeped into her pores just yet because she's still fully dressed. Thank Faranth that Xanadu's climate is relatively mild compared to other weyrs (I'M LOOKING AT YOU, HALF MOON BAY AND MONACO BAY), and so Fiore will probably be okay for a while yet. VALERIAN ON THE OTHER HAND? He's probably in for some GOOD OLD FASHIONED, HEALER-OBLIGATED SCOLDINGS… froooom somebody that is not Fire. The sound of feet and humming does draw Fioreyla's attention towards the wall, and upon seeing Vale on it, the tiny healer opens her mouth as if she means to say something, decides better of it, and snaps it closed. Okay, or maybe, "T-that's n-not a very good idea. You could f-fall." Because HE SHOULD MAKE EDUCATED MISTAKES, OKAY. (You're welcome. Sincerely, Captain Obvious)

Vale? TOTES not paying attention to anything but what's straight head. More wall to walk! Whoo! Does he know how to live life or what? He didn't even notice when he'd cleared that there purdy thick trunked tree where Fioreyla and he were in perfect line of sight with one another, just keeps on walking and strolling and humming. Tunelessly. Seriously folks, that might be someone smacking a sack of cats against the tree, because its torture. TORTURE. Make it STOP. Did that bush just wilt? At the sound of a voice, as timid as it might be, Valerian turns his head towards the source (so he'd not as deaf as his singing - if you can call it that - suggests) and comes to a stop, brows shooting upwards together in unison. "Hmm?" His head very slowly starts to tilt, before he breaks out into a wide and toothy grin. Wolfish really. Run Fire. RUN. Save yourself. "Probably, but the fun part is seeing how far I can go before that happens." A wink and his shoulders bounce to suggest he's laughing quietly to himself. Dropping into a crouch, he places his chin in his hands and peers over to look at what the young healer is up to. "Whatcha doooooing?" Pale grey eyes dart from book to girl from girl to book and back again. Expectantly.

There comes a crunch of gravel from someplace deeper within the gardens, a step so heavy that it can only be contrived, considering the figure it belongs to. Sohzen's form is all long, lean angles, lighter than the lies encapsulated in his tread. Dark robes billow about his person on a cool spring breeze, their rusty rustling as dry as his tone when he offers greetings in the form of, "One would assume, from observation, that she is harvesting plantmatter." It would be a joke if only his eyes were not totally void of emotion, expression parked somewhere neutral as his gaze flicks from Fioreyla to Valerian and back, taking them both in before he continues with an equally-grating, "One can surmise, from the privelege familiarity, that it has some medicinal purpose." It's made a question only because he looks to Fioreyla for supplication of further information, steps going silent as he finally draws to a halt next to where the healer is working, stooping just enough to select a single plant, twirling it between long fingers for observation. No comment is made on the topic of fun - one might well assume he wouldn't know what that was if it dressed in drag and threw him a luau - but he does seem to remember manners if only in retrospect. "Hello," he says at length, returning the plant to its cloth. "I hope I am not interrupting anything." Implied: he will continue on his way, if so.

And so it would seem that the wolf has found a sheep in the meadows, Fioreyla looking every bit the part when Valerian shows her too many teeth and threatens to blow down every house she builds up to try and keep him out. For a long moment, those violet eyes fix on the slightly younger teenager with knitted brows, as if the expression he's fixing on her confuses her (hint: it does) and she isn't quite sure how she's supposed to respond to him (hint: she's not). So there they sit for a long moment, Fire's red hair clinging to her face and lips, caught in her scarf and pulled into disarray by the shift of winds carrying in a subtle breeze. "W-why would you want to f-fall?" Fire asks, as if somebody welcoming danger is so very beyond her realm of comprehension that she cannot even fathom the thought-process it's taken her to get here. Her words are not unkind; they're soft and hushed, riddled with surprise and a hint of confusion that's not so layered as to suggest she thinks that Valerian just might be out of his mind. "A l-lot of things can go w-wrong if you fall. What if nobody s-saw you fall?" IT'S THE HEALER IN HER, CONCERNED. RUN, VALERIAN, BEFORE SHE STARTS RECITING A CHAPTER FROM HER TEXTBOOKS. She probably would have too, except that Valerian crouches, and Fiore's standing abruptly with arms extended as if expecting him to fall (and let's be honest, the funniest part about that is her thinking she can catch him) until Sohzen SNEAKS UP BEHIND HER, and she stumbles forward as she whips around to look at him with surprise (and maybe a hint of accusation). She doesn't say anything, not initially; instead, the tiny healer listens, and then nods her head to confirm that it is, indeed, medicinal in nature. The look he gives has Fire's brows drawing in, and then she's looking back at Valerian.. "I'm -" What is she doing? "I h-have a friend who l-likes to do dangerous things t-too. I wanted to g-get some things for him. To help." BECAUSE THAT WAS NEITHER VAGUE OR OBVIOUS. "Are you g-going to come down?" A SQUEAK OF SOUND, TIMID AS THE REST OF HER. Another jump, and Fire's looking at Sohzen again. "Hi, Sohzen," she says softly, moving in as if she's going to SNATCH THAT HERB UP and then thinks better of it because her hands reach up, and then tuck into her stomach. "You're not interrupting. H-he just happened to be…" A gesture. ON THE WALL IN HER SPACE? YES. Now she's holding out her hands in a, 'Please,' kind of manner, waiting for her HARD WON HERBS.

Sheep, are after all, to a wolf delicious. Perhaps the tiny healer was his prey and he was just bidding his time until he could leap down from his vantage point and gobble her up properly. Maybe drag her back to his den. Okay, this is getting weird. Moving along. Rich deep laughter bubbles up and out of the starcrafter when he's asked why he wanted to fall, "I don't, but sometimes its the price that has to be paid for adventure." His head rights itself back onto his shoulders, all in proper alignment as he looks down at Fioreyla, all those teeth that were so strange to her, soon disappearing behind his lips but for some reason gives off the impression he was still grinning at her even if she couldn't see it. "A lot of things can go wrong just walking down the road, and yet people still do it." There he goes, laughing again, but there was nothing mocking about it. Overall, Valerian didn't seem to be giving off any vibes of danger, but that's the thing with predatory animals, they do like their cover. Until the time was right, anyway. But, then Fire goes and makes as if she's going to catch him as he crouches and blinks several times in rapid succession and all those teeth show up again, giving her a long teasing look. "We're you trying to catch me?" Shoulders jerk and pop upwards, quiet at least this time as he chuckles to himself. "You're adorable." However, like a tunnelcat who likes shiny things, Vale finds himself distracted a second later by the arrival of Sohzen. Well, that was one way to not only make an entrance but also a first impression. The movement of black robe billowing in the wind quickly draws Valerian's attention away from the healer and locks onto the approaching figure, and once again those brows of his launch upwards towards his darkening hairline. Already a shade deeper than the turn before, but no one present knew him at all to notice. Nope. So, here he was, crouched high above on a wall overlooking the gathering of green things from the ground with two complete and total strangers. Vale couldn't look more thrilled about that though, his barely contained mirth dances just there in his pale grey eyes only growing in leaps and bounds with each passing second. That grin, does not fade, despite tone and phrase by the raven-haired man. "Glad you could clear that up for me," he chuckles Sohzen's way, folding his arms now across his knees, gaze tracking back to Fioreyla as he leans over slightly and balances purely on the balls of his feet. Don't worry, he totally has some good boots on with plenty of traction. "This your friend who does dangerous things?" Vale jerks his head oh so subtle like (not) towards Sohzen. He totally lowers his voice and everything though, but that whisper of his was good enough for the stage. Was he going to come down? "Hmm…." He thinks about it for about five seconds, rocking precariously on his toes before he stills and shrugs, "Nah. You want to come up?" Not that he didn't know the answer, he did, but he was being POLITE and asking. A laugh there after and he's pushing himself up to his full height (it's not that impressive). "Yep, that's me…just happening to be…" Distracted again, craning his head up and squinting at the haze left from an overnight rain which had not yet burned off yet. Squint. "It's late." It's EARLY. Clearly this kid was insane, shielding his eyes with one hand and then heaving a sigh.

Sohzen sighs, a soft expellation of air from betwixt parted lips, shoulders dipping infinitesmally lower even as dark eyes rise skywards, minute indications of a defeat having been suffered. "You kept your feet," could be as much praise as it is argument, fighting that accusation in Fioreyla's eyes as best he might. The universe might well conspire against them, but they're improving. Sort of? It's something, enough that he comments on it no further, gaze switching to observe Valerian with an unwavering regard. "It is my distinct pleasure to provide you with… elucidation," he says in that rock-salt rasp, words chosen carefully despite their utter neutrality. His dead-eyed stare lingers even as Fioreyla discusses him as though he were someone else, her well-intentioned smokescreen seen through by Vale, and he sees no reason to pretend otherwise, despite the young man's best attempts to appear the predator. "You need not bend truths for me," he murmurs as finally his eyes return to Fiore, chiding edge softened by an added, "I do not deserve your protection." But there's a beat, a flicker of something that might be warmth, or appreciation, or perhaps merely whatever passes for friendliness with one such as Sohzen, warm hands lowering the cloth into her waiting palms, gentle in the extreme as they shift to surround hers, cupping them close around her herbs. "Hello, Fioreyla." He withdraws, then, with the motion going that sense of familiarity, chill settling back into his features along with a slight tilt of his head. "Perhaps you will tell us what they are for," he invites with words if not tone, the self-same air of inquiry encapsulated in a dry, "Explain?," towards Valerian because it is quite the opposite of late to those whose livelihood does not revolve around the stars and in true feline form, Sohzen is, perhaps, curious.

Is Fioreyla being LECTURED by somebody younger than her? The healer's brows draw in, her mouth opening as if she means to refute Valerian's argument (and she does, because she manages to mumble a timid, 'Yes, but,' before Valerian speaks more, effectively silencing her), violet eyes seeking Sohzen as if she can draw strength from him to be brave. It's no use. The universe might have let her keep her physical feet, but Valerian in knocking her off of her mental ones (in a NON SWOONING WAY, CALM DOWN) when he calls her adorable, asking questions that register as rhetorical for her foolishly thinking that she might have been strong (or quick) enough to save him from a misstep and broken crown. Whatever Fire was going to say, it's gone now; it's catching flame and burning bright, turning her face damn near as red as her hair when she draws… back? Yep, towards Sohzen, because she's an Honest-to-Faranth coward. "I -" But Valerian is looking to Sohzen now, Sohzen is startling her, and it's the question about her dangerous friend that has Fire stammering another, "I-I di-didn't -" only to be saved by Zen. She's shaking, tiny hands trembling against those that gently rejoin hers with gathered herbs as violet eyes find dark brown and endure his greeting before he withdraws and she retreats in tandem. Explain what they're for? SHE CAN TOTALLY DO THAT. MENTAL CHAPTER ON HERBS, GO, "They're for -" Or not. VALERIAN DOESN'T KNOW IT, BUT HE'S JUST ISSUED A CHALLENGE. And maybe Sohzen is close enough to see it; maybe Vale will be able to read it in a complete stranger, who tells Sohzen to hold her beer by shoving the herbs back towards his chest, rolling her shoulders back to straighten her spine, chin coming up in determination that might look fearless and badass on anybody else, but doesn't even manage to touch on brave when it comes to Fioreyla. But she is brave, so the JOKE IS ON YOU, VALERIAN. Because look at her, turning back to the professional stargazer with eyes that say I SEE YOU VILLIAN. "Yes," she says, soft but somehow firm. "Yes I would." Like up she means. And there she goes, leaving Sohzen to demand explanations while she marches her way over to the wall LIKE A BOSS, pulls off her scarf, and her jacket, and her gloves, takes a MIGHTY LEAP annnnddddd doesn't make it. Not even a little. She probably looks ridiculous, honestly, trying to get hold of a wall that she can't even jump high enough to reach, but IT DOESN'T STOP HER FROM TRYING. JUMP. JUMPJUMP. JUMPJUMPJUMP. HAND FLAIL. JUST YOU WAIT. FIOREYLA HAMILTON IS NOT THROWING AWAY HER SHOT. SO BRAVE. So… so tiny.

Valerian isn't interrupting, he waits his turn, for those little pockets of silence where he can interject his senselessness and absurdity. Because it was polite. Ahem. Okay maybe not, but work with me here. Grey eyes dart between Sohzen and Fioreyla as they exchange their thought, watching, observing, filing everything away into the steel vault that is his mind. He may tease, but he was not a gossip or sharer of secrets. He just, collected them, marvelled over them as he lay on his cookie-cutter cot no different than anyone else's in the apprentice quarter. Whatever he thinks, imagines, hallucinates, or concludes from his observations are kept to himself. At least for now. Though, Sohzen apparently said something that makes him laugh again, but this time he doesn't share the punch line. Rather, he just grins all those teeth as his eyes twinkle with his amusement down at the man, before it naturally tapers off into a quick dart of a gaze between the two down below. A knowing look, there and gone and his eyes finds purchase elsewhere. Like the sky. Perhaps some semblance of guilt over interrupting something himself, merely by his presence. The question, one that he probably assumes was meant to be polite (Sohzen's version of it anyway - he's a quick study okay?) draws his attention back down to more worldly concerns. A heartbeat later, he's pointing to his knot. "Starcrafter," he indicates, and then points upward towards the sky all casual like even as he leans forward a bit and uses that same stage-whisper as he had with Fioreyla before, "We do it at night." (HIS JOB, get your minds out of the gutter). A grin, a wink, and Fire. Yep, the cuteness that is that tiny little redhead down there. Oh, but her reactions were delicious, like a warm caramel cream that slides down the throat as you nestle yourself by a crackling fire in the fluffiest blanket on the planet. He was certainly not lecturing, he just didn't have her companion's honeyed words. His sister might be a harper, but there was nothing about Vale that was anything like her. At least, nothing that either of them would mention out loud. He watches from his perch, watches her implode, laughing softly with his head slightly cocked. He doesn't say anything, he just watches. Not creepy-stalker like, but amusedly, waiting to see how the events he inadvertently triggered just by being him, unfolded. Her ultimate reply? Wow those eyebrows shoot upwards fast, watching as she stalks the wall and then tries to launch herself up the side of it. Valerian drops into a crouch, oh so safely on the edge of it with the balls of his feet and rests his arms again over his legs. Watching, still. "You're going to hurt yourself," he says, unable to keep himself from sounding as if wasn't as hilarious as it probably looked to anyone else who might happen by. A few more scrambles, and he drops his chin into the palm of his hand. Grey eyes, following the frantic attempts to scale a wall three or four times the height of the tiny healer. "You want some help…or…" A finger is extended, vaguely gesturing to the ups and downs going on. "…you got this?" Smirk. Chin hand. And he waits.

One does perhaps wonder what Valerian makes of interactions both verbal and non, in order to ascribe them appropriate validity, for it's likely bordering on assured that they are some measure of inaccurate. There is little else to see, to read in the interactions between Fioreyla and Sohzen except kindness posed towards one far too used to receiving none. It only speaks magnitudes because Sohzen so infrequently expresses anything, but it would seem in this, whether he is giver, receiver, both, he is weak to resist. It is perhaps the reason he steps forwards in response to Fiore's step back, not looming, not fixing Valerian with protective looks as one might expect, instead tilting his head to observe the young healer, reading posture, tone, and responding in kind knowing that when it comes down to it, Fire does not need him. The redhead finds her courage in obstinance, presses herbs back into his hands, and Sohzen's got your flower, honey. Go kick his ass. The hunter folds the cloth about leaves carefully before setting them aside, following along silently, nigh-absently, collecting Fire's things as she sheds them and applying the selfsame treatment. Fold. Pile. Fold. Pile. His expression remains passive as ever, but there's encouragement inherent to action, making him an accomplice to her fit of retaliation. Dark eyes lift to find Valerian's as the starcrafter peers down at them, the young man's finger flicking at Fioreyla's ineffectual jumping, and there's just maybe a flash of something like mirth or deviousness, ice or fire, there and gone as his gaze lowers to long fingers that clasp, hook beneath the healer's nearest foot, and lifts her into his range with a low-rasped, "Catch, nightwalker." ONE TINY HELPING OF WANNA-BE SPITFIRE, COMIN' YOUR WAY.

Indeed, there's certainly nothing in the interactions between Fioreyla and Sohzen worth looking at for too long; it is perhaps only significant because little Fire, who is afraid of everything (except for Death, whom she fights back against every day) is not afraid of the one man who common sense might dictate she should run from. Of course, considering herself Sohzen's friend is likely akin to pulling on death's whiskers anyway, and he didn't laugh at her herdbeast underwear. IT WORKS OUT. Fire's got both arms spread eagle, pressing herself against the wall, one leg extended upward while the other stays rooted on the ground and she breathes out, "Is the air getting t-thinner up here?" because HAR HAR SHE'S GOT JOKES and is TOTALLY FAILING AT CLIMBING and HAS TO SAVE FACE SOMEHOW. By making herself look more ridiculous of course, Valerian's offers and goading and enjoyment seeming to break the little healer at first, and then pour gasoline into her veins. JUMP. JUMPJUMP. AND, LIFT-OFF! There's a squeak of surprise, hands scrambling for purchase as she aims for NOT VALE, NOT VALE, NOT VALE. AHAHA. SUCCESS! She catches at the wall with her hands, scrambles her feet against fence, hooks her elbows over and… HUFFHUFFHUFF. SHE'S GOT THIS. VICTORY. Hands on her hips, she stands there as if she conquered this mountain of climb all by herself, even if she's puffing a breath meant to force a wayward strand of hair from her face, and breathing out, "Thank you, Sohzen." And then she's distracted, eyes going wide as she takes in the view, takes a step forward, and then swings around. It's probably not the best idea, given Fioreyla's penchant for falling, but she doesn't seem to be at all interested in whether or not she's going to slip and break her crown today. "Sohzen, look!" And maybe she is catching at Vale's jacket, tiny hands gripping in fabric as she points at something Sohzen probably can't see from down there and then lets Vale go, scrambling around him (and using him to not fall, which is probably pretty dangerous but FIGHT HER) as quickened steps take her farther and farther along that fence. "Oh my gosh, I can see -" A deep breath, and Fiore's going up on her tippy-toes, waving one arm over her head as she calls out (a still somehow meek), "Hello, little herdbeasts! You have babies!" SO MUCH EXCITEMENT, SO MUCH JOY. And it's there, in violet eyes, sunbright and indisputable as she turns again, taking steps too fast in the opposite direction. "Sohzen, I can see everything." And so maybe she gets it. Maybe she understands why Valerian does what he does as she sneaks in close and catches at his jacket again to maintain her own balance. Yep, she's looking at the world beyond with a slack jaw, and then spinning, nearly losing her footing but somehow managing to save it by throwing out both of her arms to either side, extended as if she's grown wings, and laughing. "Sohzen!" And HERE COMES HER DARING. She's swinging her arms, rocking on her feet. "Sohzen, catch me!" And whether or not he agrees to it, she takes another swing, rocks forward again, and leaps! Screaming on her way down between a gasp of delighted laughter.

Valerian? He ascribes not, but he can enjoy whatever reaction either way that his expressions might facilitate, whether or not he believes anything he sees and or hears as truth. In reality, none of it was his business, which is why no questions are asked and no assumptions voiced. One might one day demand he stop looking at them in that tone of voice, but today was not that day. Today, he was enjoying his people watching (enjoying being the annoying twat he so clearly was) had stoked the sparks of fire within Fioreyla. Hears her stammer become less pronounced, and impossibly his smile widens. "Nope, it's pretty crisp and clean, lots of oxygen." Grey eyes dart the way of Sohzen, probably seeing things that he shouldn't, and then they slide back to the girl as she gets a helping hand up that apparently he was disinclined to offer in the end. As she ascends, he squiggles away the opposite direction, giving her plenty of room not touch him. As she finally pulls herself up, he's using the strength of his legs to bring himself to standing. Grinning, as if he had been the one that accomplished something here. Perhaps not swelling with pride, but certainly sharing the in the unfettered joy of it all. Hands slide into the pockets of the jacket he's wearing, seconds before the healer's tiny finger collect the material against her palm to use him as a fixed point with which to view the world. Gone are the smart ass commentary (it'll be back, have no fear) and he just laughs with her, casting a bright grin and shrug at Sohzen, that lacks in apology as he forks a thumb Fire's way. Fioreyla wasn't stammering and she was doing things that had brought a tightness (however faint) to his shoulders. A tightness that grows as she anchors herself to him in a sort of catch and release method, working around him to get a better look elsewhere. "Careful…" he softly warns a, more under his breath than startling or abrupt. Lacking in alarm but not in concern. But the herdbeasts, the wave, and Vale is laughing just as softly. What the tiny redhead does or doesn't understand, he probably won't ever know. What he does know, is that she's grabbing at him again and nearly killing herself a second before she makes a true leap of faith. Vale flinches and takes but a single step forward, confirming that Sohzen caught her before he lets out a soft whoosh of breath with a second's placement of his hand over his heart and then steps out of view. With that, he's gone. Much less a noisy escape as been his entry. Poof. Seemingly into thin air.

For thanks, Sohzen has no reply; watching her succeed is its own reward, for as Fioreyla scrambles up the final few feet of that mountain, surveys her own accomplishment, all he can do is cross his arms and observe. His brow quirks once when she bids him to look at something he cannot see, dark eyes catching and seizing on Valerian's glance his way, shoulders lifting in a return shrug that is somehow expressive, despite the lack of emotion to go along with. Who is he to stop her? She is Fire in many senses of the word, and though he derives no visible amusement from her antics racing to and fro atop the wall, he will neither deny her this joy. Repetition of his name draws his gaze back to Fioreyla, a fractional tick in one cheek belying amusement as he finally huffs out an inquired, "Yes?" to one or another of the iterations. Not the first, and definitely not the last, for the last demands the fixation all of his attention, requires that he read the rocking of her body at the edge of the garden wall, forces his lean form to tense in anticipation of the action to follow. Like a cat, he sinks into a half crouch, gaze avid, something wild and barely-leashed thrumming just beneath his skin as he breathes an emphatic, "Fly, Fire." And she does. And it hurts. Worlds, but how it hurts, but it is a sensation he is far too intimate with to let it ruin this. He meets trust with fall, breaking her momentum with his body, crashing to the ground with a muted noise for a lance of pain that surely means stitches have been torn, but no further protest to be found. He gasps a quiet inhale instead, meeting Vale's curious peer over the edge of the wall with the slightest of nods to confirm no spitfires were harmed in the making of this scene. Zen watches the crafter go, to where and how is anyone's guess, before his attention returns to Fioreyla, lips quirking up at the corners once, briefly, as he grates out a low, "Once you have recovered, we should go see the herdbeasts. I should like to see their young for myself." And you know. Totally distract her from the botched stitch job going on under all them robes. SHH. THIS IS ALL FINE. Don't be suspicious of the Sohzen's attempting to ride off into the sunset. Who dat. Who dis. Peace out.

But Fire is too busy noticing the world to realize Valerian's discomfort, too giddy with an exultation borne of thrill that she experienced too rarely in a life sheltered from all adrenaline-inducing highs. Fioreyla does not heed the starcrafter's gentle cautioning; she's as deaf to his words as she is blind to his discomfort, finding enough courage to forget that she is human and breakable; remembering that once, once, Sohzen showed her that she had wings and could fly. It's a true testament to just how lost Fioreyla is to her own joy that she forgets about Sohzen's stitches, shunning every healer-borne instinct as she yells for him to catch her, and he tells her to fly, and she does. She leaps, every instinct that should be telling her to run, and retreat, and get as far away as she can instead reiterating that this is safe, that Sohzen will catch her, that he will never allow her to meet with harm if he can prevent it. She doesn't know where the implicit faith comes from, but she believes it, and that faith has yet to fail her when it comes to Zen. It doesn't certainly does not fail her now, when Sohzen risks further injury to himself to catch the airborne healer and bring her down safely; when stitches rend and tear open even as Fire laughs from where she's landed on him and he endures the pain beneath her. Her fingers twist in his hair as she pulls herself in to press her forehead against his, eyes closed as she laughs and then draws back just enough to breathe out, "Sohzen, I was flying again." And her smile is enormous, tears persisting at the corners of her eyes in mirth that mutes without ending when he mentions herdbeasts. "Okay," she breathes - and then jerks back. "Oh, Faranth. Sohzen, your -" A beat, as she turns to look for Valerian and, finding he's gone, she's shoving his shirt up to look at his stitches. FIGHT HER, SHE WILL WIN. "This first. I'm s-so sorry, Zen. I -" She doesn't have any excuses, just an acute case of guilt and apology that she turns on full force as she pushes away from the older man and to her feet, hands extended for him to use as leverage. "I'll fix it. And then we'll go look at the herdbeasts." AND THEN FIRE IS ON HER WAY, to gather her things, and to coax Sohzen in the direction of the infirmary.

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