Morning Workout

Participants:

Randi.jpg P'sec.jpg

Date: 5 June 2011
Location: Upper Bowl, Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Randi joins P'sec for the end of his run, and they talk about other renegade riders.
Rating: PG
Logger: P'sec


Rain or shine, P'sec always finds the time in his day to go for a run. This morning, rather than going outside the weyr he stays inside it, making his way along one of the tracks worn into the ground and trying to keep out of the way of some of the busier traffic. He's been at it for some time, if his breathing and the state of his sweat-sodden shirt are anything to go by, closer to the finish than to the start of this daily workout.

And on the opposite end of the spectrum - in more than just the workout - is Randi. Well-known about the Weyr is her penchant for a good run. In good, comfortable footwear, soft pants and a thin sleeveless top, she pulls out of a stretch and leaps off her ledge, tying her hair up and back in a sloppy sort of twist as she moves. P'sec is spied in his circuit and so she takes her time tying the band, letting him hit where she is standing in his circuit before falling into step beside him. She doesn't clutter the silence with anything just yet. Better to let that wait until the muscles warm up and the endorphins begin to flow.

P'sec sees Randi in her running gear before he's upon her, but he doesn't give a wave since that would break the rhythm of his arms and therefore his pacing. He makes no concessions in pace for her when she joins him, doesn't even think to do anything so insulting as slow down a notch, and other than a short, huffed "Hey," he saves his breath.

It takes Randi a few moments to properly fall into his rhythm - he's had the benefit, after all, of being properly warmed up and moving - but once she does, it's with a sigh of purest relief. Her breath is good, but the pace is a stern one, so it's with a bit of a huff of her own that she responds. "Settling in?"

"Yup. Got our weyr, met Indira," With a pause for breath between each item, P'sec ticks things off a mental checklist. "Did our drills." His glance deviates from the path and across to Randi as she's implicated in the last. He doesn't speak again immediately, concentrating on the rhythm of his breathing. Finally, "Maura's still got headaches." Though Randi may know, he still sees fit to fill her in.

Randi nods, the motion a bit jerky with the bounce of her step. "Good, good." Each of those words is punctuated by a beat. The mention of Maura, however, has her frowning. "Still?" Judging by the surprise and concern in her expression, she hadn't heard. Then again, she hasn't exactly had the chance to catch up with all 'her' riders, either. "She seen Jonavan?" The healer she'd have sent first. Obviously she's a little more behind on things than usual.

"Think so," P'sec answers brokenly, glancing at Randi every now and again so he can judge her expression. "Dunno who, some healer. Who wasn't very nice. She called me," and here his lips quirk into an open grin, utterly amused rather than embarrassed, "P'sex."

"Maura?" Randi pauses to inhale in between steps. "Or the healer?" She almost gets three more steps before she loses it, laughing so hard she has to stop and pause bent over with her palms flat on her thighs. Looking up at the older bronzerider with eyes wet from mirth and sparkling with mischief, she grins wickedly. "You sure you didn't dream that part?"

"Maura!" P'sec comes to a halt a couple steps after Randi and swings round, the grin still very much in place. "I shouldn't tell, she was already embarrassed enough as it is." But it hasn't stopped him from sharing a good laugh at her expense. He mimics Randi's posture in part, standing spread-eagled, and stretches. "Brat," he retorts jauntily.

Randi steps one foot back and turns her laughter into a silly sort of bow. "And proud of it!" She moves her body in stretches to mimic his. She'll run a long ways yet, but stretching always feels good. "The healer was mean?" She runs through the list of healers in the infirmary through her head. "I know we've got some with … unique personalities," and that's putting it mildly. "But I've not met one who was mean." She'd have sure straightened them out if she had.

"Well, I think she said something like that." P'sec claims no personal knowledge and backtracks on the comment too. He leans in the other direction, stretching the other leg. "Mostly she was complaining cause the medicine she got tasted bad." In other words: grain of salt. "Any news on the others?"

"H'tek said they'll be along once M'pret … settles." There's a drop in her voice there as the full force of just why M'pret needs some time once again rears its ugly head. There's the haggard look of guilt on her face, seen only as she turns away to watch a blue diving for a kill in the pens. "But the twins should be here in the next two sevens." Moving right along, then. "I haven't heard about the others."

Mention of M'pret draws a sober look from the man. "Right. Be good to have them here." P'sec speaks inclusively, meaning extended beyond the two pairs of riders mentioned. He spies the flash of guilt in profile and although he doesn't respond to it at first, as he straightens out of his stretch, the bronzerider quietly says, "Wasn't your fault, Randi." Though if anyone knows what guilt feels like, it's him.

"Doesn't matter." She rolls both shoulders and tips her head forward to stretch the muscles running from her neck to her back. "They were my responsibility." All of them. And that's one she's pretty sure he won't be able to wriggle out of, so she wraps her guilt up in a neat little package, locks it away in a box and stores it away until she can be alone with it. "It's funny how much you come to count on people being there after just a Turn, isn't it?" A slight deviation into safer waters. "It'll definitely liven things up around here." As if they need more livening.

P'sec doesn't disagree a second time - doesn't say anything, in fact. He mops the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand before stretching out his arms, elbow forming the tip of a triangle over his head and hand reaching down between his shoulder blades. "Funny that," he concedes in time. "Know people I've rode with for Turns who I wouldn't say that about."

Randi can't help but smile, snickering into her hand. "That's because you're old and cranky." She does a few twists of her abdomen and then hauls herself up on tiptoe to give the grizzled rider a peck on the cheek. "But we forgive you and love you all the same." And with that cheeky comment, she's tearing off down the Bowl, running and laughing like a child who thinks they'll be chased.



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