Okay, it's not -really- this late. It's another planet. Really. It's the next morning. Yeah. That's the ticket. And the warming disc has long since worn off, which is why Corian is stirring. Well, and she's shaking too--shaken -and- stirred. Well, no, she's actually shivering, because, dang, it's cold. "Oh, dear," she murmurs. "It is morning. Scruffy is still there, at least."
Tarrant is already mostly awake, although he's not moved, lest he take away from providing heat. As you shift he rubs at you lightly, attempting to be helpful in warming you up. "Yeah," he agrees with a quiet drawl. He's markedly subdued, the effect of far too much cold. "He's a good...um...whatever he is. Gonna be okay my star? It's, um, well it's cold."
Corian, trying to shiver less, nods. "It is most certainly cold," she agrees,
with a sigh. "Do you suppose that the storm hit while we were sleeping?" She
does not move to get out of the joined sleeping bags just yet, instead
snuggling closer. "You will forgive me for not wanting to venture out if it
is still storming much, I hope."
Tarrant shifts in around you, to form a backrest. He also untucks the sweater enough to lend you a bit more heat. Not that he's got much to share. He's a Tarrantsicle. They didn't design his people for tundras, but deserts. "I think it's held off a bit. The sun's about up high enough to be as warm as it gets. I was about to wake you up. And trust me, I'm in no hurry either."
"If we end up spending another night out in this," Corian suggests, with a wry
half-smile, "Perhaps we should curl up with Scruffy. He, at least, is
appropriate for this weather." She twists around to give you a quick kiss,
then sighs quietly, resting her forehead lightly against yours. "I suppose we
should brave the cold. We will be lucky to get to the port in time as it is,
it seems."
Tarrant hugs in close a long moment, trying to warm you up as much as possible, and himself in turn. But then at last he edges from the bag, rummaging for his parka to pull on immediately. He doesn't shiver, he's Tarrant, he doesn't do that. But he -thinks- shivery thoughts. "I've got to admit, with the mud and the soot, smelling like Scruffy could be chanced for heat. Hopefully we can make some decent time. We can mix in with traffic, so it'll be safer." He begins gathering together packs and such, and getting muddier.
Corian is, as probably pleases you, -not- Tarrant, and thus she shivers, even
as she pulls on her own parka, and boots, and gloves and such. And, yes, she
moves to help you, adding to her own--oh, dear, what a word
choice--scruffiness. Yep, she's getting mud and such as well, what a joy. "If
we can just manage to get -off- this planet," she murmurs, in a voice that
would be prayerful if she were religious, which she's not, "Then we could
wash -off- the Scruffy smell, among other things."
"Warm water?" Yes, Tarrant sounds rather entirely pathetic as he goes to unhook Scruffy from his impromptu tether. "Could we use warm water?" Oh yeah, this world has officially gotten to him. He drags himself out of the land of contemplating hot water and generally being cold and pitiful. "Geting moving should warm us up a bit. And help with the stiffness and all."
Corian offers a smile of utter sympathy. "I was hoping for hot water,
personally, but I will settle for warm water." She starts on settling the
various packs onto Scruffy, or helping with such, taking time to warm her
hands as much as she can in... well, he's got some form of fur, right? It's a
cold world. "Though I must say," she admits, "As little riding of any kind as
I have done--" Oh, what a perfect line for Honalee, "--I am not especially
looking forward to getting back on Scruffy. But that will be much better than
walking, so I am also not quite ready to complain."
Tarrant leads Scruffy from the mouth of the cave and out into the bright
sunshiney world, "Ooooh." Okay, so it's not the most pleased sound in the
world. "I'm awake now. It's windy." A quiet snicker follows, as he sets about
leading Scruffy over to a large rock. Gesturing to it he offers, "Easier to
mount up that way?" He mmhmms softly, "Far better than walking. And if we can
get him up to a turn of speed, maybe we can get there before it starts
getting darker and colder."
"That," Corian says, clambering up the rock after murmuring her thanks, "Would really be wonderful. I really have no desire to spend another night out in this, if we can possibly avoid it." It takes two tries, but she does manage to mount Scruffy--phrases she never thought she'd be using. That done, she adjusts various warmth-clothing, trying to cover as much of her face as she can. So this way, the windburn will just be in intriguing patterns.
Tarrant scrambles up afterwards, significantly less gracefully than the evening
before, and not without a wince. He takes a few moments to settle his jacket
about you, and to rummage for one of the smaller blankets, appropriate to the
world. With a few quick tucks he forms it into something of a windbreak
around you both. "Especially as we can't exactly count on another cave. Muddy
as it was, it was out of the snow and wind. And nobody spotted us in it, it
seems."
Corian takes a look around the area, then nods. Nobody's tried shooting or any
other such stuffs. "It seems," she echoes, with a smile of utter gratitude
for the coat and the blanket. And, see, she can lean against you this way,
which she does. That's better. "If we can just make good time, perhaps we
will not -need- a cave."
Tarrant seems to prefer having you leaning against him as well. The pressure is
comforting, as is the closeness. With a soft nudge to Scruffy he convinces
the big critter to plod his way back up onto the path. Slowly he lets the
beastie accelerate to a decent clip. Tarrant slips an arm around you,
steadying the pair of you against the rocking gait, and simply for the excuse
to do so. He's miserable, bruised, freezing, etc, but he gets a cheap excuse
to cuddle, he's enjoying himself. "And we can get back to cheerful high tech.
Admittedly, I'm as much a country boy as anything, but I prefer my 'country'
with hot water at the end of the day and solid walls. Guess I'm spoil'd."
This last is said with a decided snicker.
Corian can't help but laugh at that. "Well, but I do not mind having you spoiled, cha'trez, as I most -certainly- am. Though I am not by any stretch of the imagination a country girl." And, yes, she does need the steadying for the rocking gait, as she is even less certain of her seat than she was yesterday, as stiffened muscles really don't help, nor do bruise-esque things.
"Hey, but you're -supposed- to be spoil'd," And yes, Tarrant does say 'spoiled' like that. It's a different word altogether, really. I can show you the difference. "You're a beautiful woman. Beautiful women are required to be spoiled. And see, I'm a guy, so it's my job to spoil you." He hugs in close a moment before settling back again to keep his eyes on the road.
Corian chuckles very quietly in response to that. "Well, if I have you to spoil me, then I suppose I will not object too much. As long as it is -you-, that is all I ask. I would rather not be spoiled by anyone else, you see, as I am -your- star." Aww. Just don't get -her- one of those evil star outfits, or that will get you a look not unlike the one you will get if you do suggest the fit thing. She's watching the road as well, but she's still leaning against you as she does so. It's for sharing heat. Yeah.
Tarrant would get her the happy star outfit, he'd find something even more
horrifying. He is, after all, the bastion of no taste. He edges ever so
slightly in something of a stretch before urging the beastie on to further
speeds. "I think I can deal with being an only spoiler. After all, as
attached as I am to you, only star in my heaven, I don't wanna' share at all.
See, I am spoil'd. Ohh, another marker passed."
Corian would probably fear if you were to buy something in -less- taste than
the star outfit. As it is, she tries to edge a bit closer, even though that's
likely not possible, at the increase in speed. See, falling off would be bad,
and she knows that you're going to try and -catch- her, should her balance
suddenly warp itself. "You," she says, with a flickered smile over her
shoulder, "Are wonderful. Even in this horrible weather, you can still manage
to say things to make me melt." Too bad she isn't really melting, talk about
a convenient heat source. She brightens a touch at the marker-passing, with a
nod for its pointing-outness.
Tarrant gets a firmer hold on the critter and brings up his other arm as well
to attempt to provide as much of a sense of stability to you as possible.
After all, he has no intention of letting you fall, but nor does he want you
to feel like you're going to fall. And yes, he'd probably appreciate the
heat. As it is he looks a bit sheepish at the comment, but pleased. "Well,"
he murmurs after a pause. "On the bright side we should get a vacation, and
we didn't even have to kill anybody."
Corian looks -really- amazingly grateful for that arm stabilityness. "I am
sorry," she murmurs. "I am... very much not accustomed to this mode of
travel. But hopefully it will not be for too much longer." There's a pause,
and then she adds, with a hint of steel, "Cha'trez, we -will- get a vacation.
Even if it is only for a week, we will get some time off, and I am going to
do my best to get us at least a month."
"It's okay love, I understand. Trust me. The first time I rode one of those
critters my parents have for herding? You're doing better than I did. I think
I remember informing Dad where my will was kept, so when I plummeted off and
broke my neck, he'd know what to do." Tarrant's tone is quietly sheepish, but
also amused at the memory. He offers you a fond smile, "And see, when -you-
say that, I know it can be believed. If anyone can convince the Department of
a thing, it's you."
"Thank you for that faith," Corian replies softly, with a brief, fond smile.
She casts a look skywards, then, with just a hint of a sigh for the growing
clouds. "Well, at least we were able to get -some- distance ahead of the
snow."
Tarrant frowns up at the clouds as well, a decided wince to his expression. "So
then, what shall we do. Try and hole up, or try and outride said snow?" He
interlinks his gloved hands around you, protective.
Corian sighs very quietly. "Well, I would -like- to hole up and hide from the snow, but we really do need to make it to the port, do we not?" She lifts her own hands up to cover yours. Warmth-sharing again, yeah. Really.
"We do need to get there, yes," Tarrant agrees in a quiet murmur, hunching
forward a bit over you, to add protection from the falling snow. "But it
won't do us much good if we get frozen down out here on the road either. So
it's something of a gamble either way."
Corian nods her agreement, looking just a bit displeased with the situation.
"Do you know how much farther we need to go to reach the port?" she inquires.
"I think that is a key factor in determining whether or not we should push
farther. If Scruffy could get us there -soon-..."
"How about we see how far we can get before the snow gets too thick?" Tarrant
tucks himself down protectively around you as best as possible. "We're up on
the wind plain here, and I honestly don't know if we'd manage a night on it,
even with heating disks. Neither of us is exactly set up for low
temperatures." And since Tarrant is giving the occasional shiver despite not
being set up for such, apparently wind is a great evil. "Closer it'll descend
a bit into the port valley, and we can stop then."
Corian nods her agreement to that, looking rather unthrilled by the wind as well. "That sounds like a good idea. And we don't have many more heating disks as it is, so we should probably be careful of using them, if we can. If we can make it a little further, though, that's less far that we will have to travel tomorrow." Yes, that contraction did happen. Corian's slipping. It probably doesn't help that she's speaking through near-clenched teeth. Cold is evil. Hey, let's go stand in front of an infra-red scanner!
Tarrant unfastens his parka to tuck it around you. It takes a bit of arranging,
but he's more than willing. He's partial to you see, and would rather you not
be a Corian-sicle. He also urges Scruffy to further speed. The big critter
seems to be having fun. After all, -it's- not cold. And it doesn't have to
carry big packages. "Yeah, we're making good time. But we don't have much
more feasible time for travel today."
Corian scoots back that amount of space freed up by the parka, the better to get closer to you. Yes, she's shamelessly sharing heat. "Not much longer, no," she agrees quietly. "It is -far- too cold to be out for very long, especially for us. If we can just get -closer-, that will help."
"Not much longer," Tarrant agrees, although it's taken on something of the tone
of a mantra. If he just keeps repeating it, he'll believe it. He all but
fastens the parka around you, but it's not quite -that- large. Scruffy
continues lumbering on a while, and Tarrant falls into quiet as he eyes the
road and the clouds. "'Nother marker."
"Maybe... soon?" Corian inquires. "You are sounding like I feel. I really do not like being out in this cold and this wind. I would much, much rather be out of the wind, at least, if we can possibly find some way to do that."
"If we can find someplace suitable," Tarrant agrees softly, he's not about to object to this concept in the slightest. "We're pretty much outa' the range of th'worst of th'winds. So finding something possible's likelier. And we're an hour's ride or so out of port. So in the morning, we can work in."
Corian seems rather grateful by to hear that last bit. "Oh, we are -close-,
this is good. But not quite close enough that I am willing to keep going, if
we can find a place to stay for the night."
Tarrant stifles a shiver by act of will and nods, "Exactly, I'm in complete
accord here. We just need to -find- such a place." Squinting he eyes the
various rock outcroppings, trying to see those just out of view. "Maybe
another cave. Or one of those travellers nooks."
"Anything, by this point," Corian says, not even bothering to stop her own
shivering. She's cold, shivering makes her feel better, she's going to
shiver. "And if we are going to try to leave tomorrow, we can certainly
justify using a heating disk." Scanning the sides of the road, she gestures,
this time to the right. "There? Maybe? Something?"
Tarrant isn't -supposed- to shiver though. It's a design issue. He knows better
than to shiver. It's one of those things he's 'Not Supposed To Do'.
Considering shivering is repeated involuntary contraction of voluntary
muscles, it's right out for gengineered types. He peers off in the indicated
direction a moment, and then with a nod guides Scruffy that way. "Looks like
another cave, you've a good eye love."
Corian is cold enough that she doesn't even smile at the praise, just nods
rather numbly. "And could we curl up with Scruffy tonight, maybe? I know that
neither of us share well, but the -warmth-, warmth is very good. It is so
-cold- here, never going to let them send us to somewhere this cold ever
-ever- again."
Tarrant carefully shifts from around you, and lets himself down to the ground slowly. There's a rough moment as numb legs, especially the battered one, do not wish to hold him steadily, but using Scruffy's bulk he manages to remain upright. Steadying himself he offers you support down. "I think curling up with Scruffy'd be a wonderful idea, if he'll put up with us. I think we're too cold. I don't even want to check core temps. They can't be good."
Corian makes use of your help rather shamelessly, as she definitely needs it by this point. Of course, she also rests most of her weight on Scruffy, who is, after all, designed for this kind of weather. After a moment or two of steadiness-gaining, she offers you a wan smile. "Stopping was definitely a good idea, cha'trez. Now we just need to get the sleeping bags." And she starts on that, though slowly, with numbed hands being obnoxious. She nods to the mention of core temperature, with a hint of a grimace.
Tarrant leans in to steal a clumsy kiss before convincing Scruffy to lie down
near the cave's entrance, all but blocking it. He drops down into the half
melted slush to work on his bag as well. He doesn't seem to notice the mess,
let alone mind it. "We'll be better for some sleep, and a warming disk. Then
we can get a ship out."
"Maybe two warming disks," Corian murmurs, fumbling in her pack and counting
under her breath. "We have three left, two, more warmth would be nice." She
gets out the tarp and spreads it over the slush as best she can, then gets
her bag unrolled and unzipped and on half of said tarp. "And then," she adds,
with a wistful smile, "We can go -home-."
Tarrant peels out of boots and parka, and reluctantly his gloves. He clambers
across with a decided lack of grace, but sets about fastening the two bags
together. "Home'd be wonderful," he agrees quietly. He is officially and
decidedly out of it. "And warmth, and blankets, and...umm...food. Soup. And a
-vacation-." He trails off, realizing this line of commentary is less than
helpful. "Two sounds wonderful. That'll help a lot. Those things are
lifesavers."
Corian pulls off those same various articles of clothing, with obvious
reluctance as well. "Cold, oh dear," she murmurs, before snagging a heating
disk and twisting it, before tossing it into the sleeping bag and following
with the other. Then, naturally, she follows them. "Vacation," she murmurs.
"Soon. Tomorrow, maybe. Hopefully. -Home-."
Tarrant clambers in afterwards, sliding in close to attempt to offer heat. Not that he's got much to offer, but he's trying. He attempts to curl around you as best he can manage. As the warming disk's heat begins to take the edge off the cold he turns into all but a puddle. "Soon, and oooh, nice disk. Whoever invented them gets a tip. Oooh, ow, ack...night." Thud. Tarrant is out like the proverbial killed light. The cold is not agreeing with him.
Corian is not much farther for turning-out-ing. The warmth is definitely enough
to make her sleep, zzz, good night. Kerthunk. She does, though, manage a
murmured, "I love you," before she crashes, and manages curling very close as
well.