Just because it's not a formal gathering doesn't mean they don't gather.
It's a commotion at the center of camp, and she's already passing through. Beth pauses to watch as somebody she hardly recognizes is bullied forward to a clear spot amid the tents. He's forced to his knees, and furrows her brow, trying to place him. Not one of the Barrayarans, that's for sure. She's been here long enough to recognize the other people of the camp on sight, even when she doesn't know them. He must be one of the Cetagandans--he looks like he's been through the wringer.
The prisoner's head is lopped off, and she flinches, her hands balling into fists at either side. Sure, it's the enemy, but it's not her enemy. That might've been somebody's father.
[around camp]
She's hungry and cold and tired, but hungry and tired isn't new. Cold, she's pretty sure she'll never get used to. You can find her rubbing at her fingers and blowing on them, or burying them in the mane of one of the stable's horses, just about any time she has to remove her mittens. Sometimes even when they're still on, even--this weather is unbearable by the standards of someone who rarely saw the thermometer dip below freezing at home.
You'll find her in the mess tent frequently, helping cook and trying to keep warm. She studies her horse meat with a furrowed brow before taking a hesitant bite. "This just feels wrong."
Eating horse makes her want to visit the other horses more, like it might make up for the fact that they slaughtered the others. And as riding is one of the few pastimes available, she's always willing to use some of her day on it. So at some point, she might well turn your way and say, "If we had a watch, we could race."
She'll also be at the armory, trying to get the hang of the swords the Barrayarans use so frequently. As used to small blades and firearms as she is, she's confident carrying the weapons--but before this month, she's always left swords to Michonne. Help is always appreciated, or other beginners willing to do silly movie sword fights.
[wildcard]
[There are always other options! Write something up or reach out by PM or prettydoes to plan.]
barrayar: beth greene
Just because it's not a formal gathering doesn't mean they don't gather.
It's a commotion at the center of camp, and she's already passing through. Beth pauses to watch as somebody she hardly recognizes is bullied forward to a clear spot amid the tents. He's forced to his knees, and furrows her brow, trying to place him. Not one of the Barrayarans, that's for sure. She's been here long enough to recognize the other people of the camp on sight, even when she doesn't know them. He must be one of the Cetagandans--he looks like he's been through the wringer.
The prisoner's head is lopped off, and she flinches, her hands balling into fists at either side. Sure, it's the enemy, but it's not her enemy. That might've been somebody's father.
[around camp]
She's hungry and cold and tired, but hungry and tired isn't new. Cold, she's pretty sure she'll never get used to. You can find her rubbing at her fingers and blowing on them, or burying them in the mane of one of the stable's horses, just about any time she has to remove her mittens. Sometimes even when they're still on, even--this weather is unbearable by the standards of someone who rarely saw the thermometer dip below freezing at home.
You'll find her in the mess tent frequently, helping cook and trying to keep warm. She studies her horse meat with a furrowed brow before taking a hesitant bite. "This just feels wrong."
Eating horse makes her want to visit the other horses more, like it might make up for the fact that they slaughtered the others. And as riding is one of the few pastimes available, she's always willing to use some of her day on it. So at some point, she might well turn your way and say, "If we had a watch, we could race."
She'll also be at the armory, trying to get the hang of the swords the Barrayarans use so frequently. As used to small blades and firearms as she is, she's confident carrying the weapons--but before this month, she's always left swords to Michonne. Help is always appreciated, or other beginners willing to do silly movie sword fights.
[wildcard]
[There are always other options! Write something up or reach out by PM or