Being Drykas (Sam)

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen laughed as Sam slapped his knee, rocking slightly, the happiness written across his features. He laughed a lot with Sam, something that spoke of his comfort with him. He patted Sam's arm where he had batted at it, as if making a peace treaty, and grinned again. He wriggled his hips, readjusting himself into a more comfortable position. When bid to stand, the boy did so, dusting off his legs and rump, and then his hands. He looked to Sam for instruction, unsure of what to do to even begin. But such was Denen's nature, unsure, cautious, and meek. He grinned and gave his silent laugh as Sam tried to get up, about to offer a hand when the other finally got it right. He shook his head, eyes shining. Sam was amusing, to say the very least, and it filled the deaf boy's life with joy to spend time around him, simply for the fact that he hadn't been accepted like that before. He watched him get up in admiration, not bothering to hide it. Not only was Sam amusing, he was beautiful to watch. His brows furrowed, however, and his stomach twisted a little when Sam told him to give him his ankles. How was he supposed to do that? Lie on the ground and stick his feet up in the air? His mouth twisted into an unsure expression, but he nodded slowly. "What am I supposed to do?" He asked, "Lie down or...what?"

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"Everybody's body is different," he signed, "so just do it as it seems most natural to you. You can attempt a handstand and I'll catch your ankles and hold you up, or you can crouch down and kick up, or... get on your hands and knees and I'll lift you up if I have to..." He laughed again, holding his hands at the ready to catch flying heels that might inadvertently be aimed at his face. What he had said made sense to him, but it was likely good advice too. A person had to find their own body's most economical and native ways of moving, else they would never be so elegant and agile as they might be if they listened to their own bodies.

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen laughed, his eyes sparkling. Was there anything natural in trying to do a handstand? The gods had given them feet for a reason, after all. He rubbed his cheek, looking at the ground uncertainly. Where to begin without looking completely awkward? He hated looking silly. "D-Don't you d-d-dare laugh at m-me." This said, he slowly began to lower his upper body, praying to the gods he didn't fall and land on his head. He was already embarrassed enough. He ducked his head down and lifted a foot. "G-Grab my ankle," he said, voice muffled by his tunic as it slipped up a bit, exposing the beginnings of a smooth, pale stomach.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

"With you, Denen," he said while Denen could still see his lips. "Always with you." Dutifully, he grabbed the proffered ankles, first one, then the other. With Denen's help, he maneuvered his slight frame into a vertical position. Once aligned, Sam knew that a lot of the stress on Denen's arms would be diminished. A true hand stand was a constant readjustment of the center of gravity, a real work out on the abdominal muscles more than the arms. Sam tapped his toe on the ground between Denen's hands to call his attention there. He had found it easier to balance when his eyes were on the ground beneath him. He also tugged upward on Denen's legs as best he could, though it was an awkward movement. He had to keep his body aligned, not letting it bend too much and throw it all off balance. When it seemed like Denen had it for the most part, he inched his hands up from his ankles to his feet, pointing his toes toward the sky. It was all in the name of alignment. Then all he did was keep a light touch on Denen's shins, ready to help steady him when he swayed, but allowing the other boy to do as much on his own as possible. Of course, once Denen was ready to go down, Sam would easy his feet under him so he could prevent a fall. He gave Denen's calves a squeeze of encouragement since his words would fall on deaf ears.

[Denen Sunsinger]

A flush crossed the boy's cheeks. It was so easy to smile for Sam, and he imagined that if either of them even began laughing, the other would join. That was how friends worked, as it not? He held his breath as Sam lifted his body, the blood immediately rushing toward his head. He grunted slightly, the sensation a strange one. He was grateful to have Sam close by, just in case he happened to start falling. He trusted Sam entirely, and was positive his friend would catch him if anything went amiss. His tunic slipped up a bit, but was held mostly in place by the belt he had secured around his middle. His eyes were drawn to the ground where Sam's toe had tapped, hair making a curtain around his face and the strands brushing against the ground. He wasn't sure if he liked this or not, but he had decided that he would give it a try until he fell over or couldn't support himself any more. He wasn't built in the same manner as Sam. He was much softer, with a slight, thin frame. No cords of muscle or bulk. Just softness. Denen licked his lips as Sam pointed his toes up, giving a slight sound, though it wasn't really discernible. He trusted that Sam knew what he was doing, and didn't protest when his body was guided to do different things. He could feel the effort, after being positioned correctly, in his core. It was a strange, intense sensation, and he wondered how long he would be able to keep it up. He remained constantly aware of Sam's presence near him, reliant entirely on him. Still, he tried to hold himself properly, hoping that he'd not fall and hurt himself. Sam wasn't a healer after all. And what good was a healer who wound up injured himself? Still, he supposed he was doing a fairly good job, given that it was his first handstand and all. At least, until Sam squeezed his calves. His eyes went wide and he gulped, his arms suddenly trembling and his face going hot. He swayed violently, and his legs began falling right to Sam, heart hammering in his thin chest. A simple touch, and he felt like butter. He cursed himself mentally and mumbled an apology. “C-C-Clumsy...arms,” he said faintly, trying to excuse the momentary weakness.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el's hands moved then, one up to Denen's ankle to give him a reassuring squeeze since he couldn't hear words and wouldn't be able to see signs at this point. The other hand moved down (or up, depending on one's perspective) toward Denen's belt. He sent one of Denen's legs back down toward the ground, his arm sliding along Denen's waist to catch him as his body folded over it, the second leg perforce following the first. He swung around behind Denen, still supporting him around the middle and helped him back upright, keeping their bodies close in case the rush of blood back to the rest of Denen's body made him woozy. Grinning, he squeezed Denen's shoulder with his free hand. "You did it," he said quietly, even if Denen wouldn't hear. He would tell him again and again, building the other boy's confidence in himself, as if to say, 'You see? You can do things you never imagined!'

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen was glad his head was down, and that his blazing cheeks could be attributed to a rush of blood to the head, rather than the blushing that was a major culprit. His thin body was repositioned, and he grunted slightly as he was bent in half. His feet touched ground again, and he became aware of the fact that Sam was still behind him, though that made his blush even worse. Thank the gods he was standing behind him. He wouldn't be able to see it as clearly then. He dusted his hands off on his long tunic, and blinked rapidly, as if hoping to clear his head. It seemed to work for that, but did nothing for the butterflies in his stomach. He gave a shy grin, feeling Sam's warm hand on his shoulder. He turned his face slightly toward Sam, but couldn't see or hear what was being said. A shy, short laugh left his lips, and he turned at last, halfway, to face the other. They were still remarkably close, and he was sure Sam would see his blush now. "D-D-Did I d-do all...all r-right?" He asked, his smile widening with each moment.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

'You did splendidly,' Sama'el assured him with ever cleverer hands, stepping back to grin at his friend. Denen's skin had felt hot under his hands, so it seemed prudent to give him a bit of space to burn. 'Soon you will be doing flips and shit.' With a wink, he made a funny face to defuse the situation, then planted his hands by his left foot and vaulting his body heels over head in a fine cartwheel, but those were basic, after all. Now, if Sama'el could cartwheel from the back of one galloping horse over the back of another to land on yet another, he would be impressed with himself. 'Baby steps,' he assured him after dusting off his hands. 'That's how you get anywhere: you start with baby steps.'

[Denen Sunsinger]

Denen smiled and touched his burning face with cool, thin fingers. He was glad for the space, and yet he mourned it. Sam felt...safe, though Denen was embarrassed to admit it. How could he ever tell Sam those sort of things? He didn't expect it to be understood. He remembered Sam's shock when he had walked in on the deaf healer with Aiken. He couldn't even imagine how embarrassing that must have been for Sama'el. He laughed at Sam's expression, his silent, quivering laugh that wrote a glow across his soft features, before he shook his head in amusement. "You're going to place your hand on a rock one of these days, and cut your palm open if you're not careful." Or maybe Denen was the only person paranoid about those things. He found himself something like the fussy mother hen of their tiny Pavilion, worrying and fretting over whether everyone had enough to eat or clothing to keep them warm. As Sam dusted off his palms, Denen took a few, quick steps toward him, and shoved him playfully. "Dymphna was right. You are a show off!" His friendly grin revealed his teasing. There wasn't a spiteful bone in his body.

[Sama'el Sunsinger]

Sama'el smiled at the warning and the softest of roughhousing. He spoke again with his freshly dusted hands. 'If I cut my hand, I have you and Dymphna to fix it for me, so I am not worried. And I wouldn't show off so much if the two of you didn't seem so amused by what I do, especially when I hit my head on something...' He laughed and grinned a rueful grin. He was just lucky that he hadn't completely addled his brains by now with all those cranial collisions.