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Date Posted: 09:21:44 04/04/05 Mon
Author: T'bel and Quilth
Subject: *snickers* I feel pretty... Oh so pretty...
In reply to: Wessae~Shrineth 's message, "Filled to the brim with girlish glee, eh? Yay!" on 19:35:33 04/02/05 Sat

T’bel doesn’t bother to stifle his grin as he hears Wessae’s verbal reciprocity of a simple, but surprisingly wonderful gift, and begins to rise from Quilth’s side where he had waited. But his posture doesn’t quite straighten, for as his eyes finally catch up with the rest of him he sees Wessae move, the sunlight trickling into the Weyr dancing perfectly over her damp form. For a moment, his jaw drops slightly, eyes widening in awe at the beautiful woman who was kind enough to allow him to view her seemingly surreal form. Then just as fast, the warmth of a loving, and slightly embarrassed smile is offered in a soft sort of apology for his previous intensity of emotion, and T’bel rises fully to his feet. He enters the side room of the Weyr, but pauses once he reaches Wessae, leaning over to offer a gentle kiss of gratitude…

T’bel can’t help but sigh as he steps into the warm waters of the bath; easing himself into the water and then leaning back to submerge his head beneath the surface. As he comes back up above the waterline, he reaches back with one hand to grab the scrubbing sand and begins the process of removing the grime from his body and tangled mass of blonde hair. He grimaces slightly as the water around him becomes foggy with the process, for he’d not realized how busy he’d been while traveling around the island, nor how much he’d needed a true freshwater bath.

After a few more minutes of furious scrubbing, T’bel rises from the water and dries himself off, his hair slightly fluffy with the new lack of salt and sand. Then, wrapping the towel around his waist, he leans over to drain the tub and scrub it out, before returning back to the main section of the Rider weyr, a soft smile offered to Wessae once again before he walked over to his own much smaller collection of clothing: a sack of slightly wrinkled items he’d hastily shoved in a bunch in order to get back to the Weyr for the flight. Shaking his head at the condition of his attire, he dresses as best as he can, grabbing his faithful wherhide jacket to try to improve his appearance a little. Examining himself as best as he can, T’bel grimaces slightly. He may be the Weyrleader, but he sure doesn’t seem to look like one.

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