2024-07-17 - [ 4-3 ] strings on the sands

Synnevath hardly registered the sensations at first; gabbling away with her clutchmates, she was at that moment quite oblivious to external things. When a curious stillness seemed to descend upon the hatching sands, she couldn’t see the source, but she could certainly feel it.

The vibrations—sounds, as she knew them to be described—were a strange new sensation. A revelation. For a brief moment, she thought her realm was being buffeted by grains of sand or an unknown intruder, but she knew instinctively (through her mother’s presence) that no real threat existed. She found herself untensing and allowed her senses to take in this new thing.

This felt... luminous. The sounds, the driving rhythm, were a curiosity to her, as were the deeper vibrations she knew originated from Gwillanth herself. The little dragonet’s sendings blushed rose and gold, unusual colors for her, swirling to match the tempo of the harpers’ airs.

It was a curious thing. A curious, curious thing.

Almost compulsively, Synnevath allowed the feathery edges of her mind to reach out as far as she possibly could, past Gwillanth, past the Others that surrounded her, until she brushed against new foreign bodies: the presence of Jermeer and the apprentice. This was unusually bold of her, but she had been wont to such inquisitiveness lately. Of the younger mind, they possessed a touch of something different, an agitation, she supposed, but for what? When she sought cogitation and calculation, it was as foreign as a new language to her, yet she could intuit (in a base fashion) that the sinewy and luminous sounds he produced were deliberate, created with intent, and not some random happenstance. Strange, strange things. If only she could peer deeper. She wondered what Mother thought but was content to withdraw and be still in the serenade for now.

It wasn’t unpleasant at all. Just strange, and a new kind of sensation to ponder.