Bowled Over

Writers: AmajoS, Emma
Date Posted: 1st August 2007

Characters: Narrala, I'lan
Description: Narrala has a close encounter of the canine kind.
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 5, day 3 of Turn 4

"Hey, slow down a moment," bellowed the bronzerider as his canine chased across the beach. "You'll bowl someone over if you carry on like that!"

Narrala had been scouring the beach for shells to use in a still-life for the last candlemark since dinner. She had a basket hanging from her arm, several colorful and interesting shells inside. The moment of impact had found her contemplating a conch-type shell which had been broken in half. Her attention had been so absorbed by the shell and trying to decide how it would fit in her planned composition that she heard the man's yells only moments before she was, in fact, bowled over.

"Bubbly!" I'lan shook a fist at the unrepentant canine. "Are you okay?" he asked of the girl, offering her a hand to get back to her feet.

"Oh, I'm fine," Narrala replied quickly, her face hot. The canine wasn't even that big! It must have caught her just right and she was half stooped... But still! She accepted the hand-up and then quckly moved to brush herself off.

Meanwhile the dog was bounding about in such a way that she couldn't help but grin, despite her embarrassment at having been knocked over.
"The name certainly fits."

"You haven't seen him go after the Bubbly pies yet, then you'll see how he earned his name," remarked I'lan. "I'm I'lan, Naath's rider by the way," he added as an introduction.

"Oh, um, I'm Narrala," the harper apprentice stammered, her face growing hot again. Casting about for some way to keep the awkward silence that so unnerved her from decending, she quickly added, "He's a pie thief then?"

"Just a bit. Hey! Didn't I see you on the sands at the hatching?" The girl seemed familiar, but he couldn't place exactly where he'd seen her before.

"I stood," Narrala nodded. Once again she'd faced the nerve-wracking trial of potential Impression. Thankfully, once again, she'd been passed up. Though, of course, she played the part of disappointed candidate. She'd even cried when she'd gotten back to her dorm in the Hall's section of the Weyr. Her roommates had taken them for tears of sadness and she wasn't about to let them know how wrong they were.
There'd been nothing but relief in those tears. "There were so many there," she continued. "I'm surprised you remember me."

"I saw the look on your face when you left the sands," he said. "I wasn't sure if you were upset you were alone, or relieved to still be alone."

Her eyes widened in shock, most people just assumed she was disappointed. No one had ever asked if it might be the other way before. For an instant she almost answered truthfully. The urge to share with -somebody- how she truly dreaded each and every Hatching was surprisingly strong. However turns worth of habit and the fear of disapproval overpowered the urge.

"Oh. Well... you know. There's always next time!" She blurted, her face blushing brightly. It was a stupid answer, not even one that applied to what he'd said! It was just the routine answer she gave when people tried to 'cheer' her after a Hatching. She suddenly wondered if it were possible to spontaneously burst into flame from blushing too much.

"Maybe, or maybe not. Some people just aren't meant to be riders." He shrugged a little, "Some of the people I stood with are too old now, and they, well at least one of them said he was probably better off with his craft than a dragon."

"True, I suppose. Only the dragons know for sure, right?" Narrala grinned nervously, the conversation touching very close to home.

"That they do," he answered. "Can I walk you back to the Weyr seeing as that lout over there knocked you down?"

"Oh, um, sure," Narrala stammered. "Wait! My shell!" The girl began scouring the sand around them for the shell she'd been holding.

"Shell?" asked the bronzerider.

"Yes, it's broken and kind of off-white and makes this really nice spiral," Narrala described the shell as she scanned the sand for the shell she'd been holding when the canine pounced her. "It's for a still-life." She explained.

"I see," I'lan looked around him. "Like that one?"

"Oh, yes! Exactly." Narrala beamed and picked up the shell, adding it to her basket. She'd been hoping she wouldn't have completely rearrange how she'd planned to set everything up.

"So what are you going to do with the shells?"

"They're for a still-life," Narrala repeated. Then, worried that might be a bit rude, she quickly elaborated with, "I'll arrange them all together in a pile so they form ian interesting composition, and then draw them."

"I see, or I'd like to when you are done."

Narrala smiled brightly even as her cheeks reddened, pleased and embarrassed as always when someone indicated an interest in her artwork. "Well, it probably won't be a master work or anything, but I'll be sure to show it to you before I turn it in, if you want."

"I meant it, I'd like that."

"Then I'll bring it," Narrala replied, her blush deepening and the nervous-pleased feeling growing. A tiny, tiny corner of her mind wondered if being knocked over by a dog was a bad thing after all.

Last updated on the August 2nd 2007

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Bowled Over