LODA
Denizen of Black Rock
-----------------------------------
As instructed the large man stayed where he was, letting Kiva examine him. He had a studious look upon his face, contemplating what she meant by wanting “to look first”. The friction of her hands as she cleaned off the sand made her fingertips warm to the touch, though quickly his skin adapted to them. Her palm he found was warmer and seemed to retain the heat against him longer. As she pressed faithfully into his shoulder, it didn’t bother him so much as she just used her palm. As she felt, she could sense that it was at least as lengthy as his spearpoint, yet was more deep than first realized.
As she balanced upon his shoulder he endured the pain she caused as she pushed even deeper. There it was, series of torn muscles and ligaments trying desperately to heal, and though they had, they were very tight and abused greatly. It was no wonder though given the fact they just wrestled for a few chimes, not to mention him spearing a fish, carrying it ashore, then fighting with her with a kris; a very light weapon that needed great speed. She mentioned to him to tell her whether she applied too much pressure and he nodded. His breath began to be held to endure further pain, not out of stubbornness or pride, but it was how he was raised.
She began to roll his muscles and that made a slight groan come from him as would have been expected and when she asked if it hurt he shook his head no, saying, “It does, but not so bad. In a way it feels good...it’s hard to explain. I’m alright.” He nodded firmly and after a while of her doing that it started to feel better. He had never had a massage, but his mother or anyone before. He was always the more silent reserved one of the clan rather than the crazed blood screaming maniac some were. Yet his actions spoke louder than his words to his clan, so he was never rejected, and above all never felt dejected for not being like others.
As she told him a story of her mother he inclined his head to listen to her. She spoke of her mother, who seemed to be a warrior, which was not so common amongst her people from little of what he understood. Perhaps she was a scout he wondered.
“I was stationed there for a good portion of my time as a Rekrut. I don’t doubt she was sore. Damned Dhani are always trying to sneak past. What did your mother do? Was she of a high rank?”
He could see Kiva’s slight smile as she worked. It made him chuckle a bit and he gestured toward her smile. “You are smiling.” he grinned, “This must bring back good memories for you then.” he figured it was either that or she just really was either peaceful in this moment, seeing how she was staring out now at the sea, or she -really- liked massages. He didn’t think that the latter was the case.
She curved from his wound to now massage down his spine and outward from it with just light fingertips, which strangely seemed to help the pain in his shoulder. He wondered as she did that, if because the wound was so deep, that it meant his injury went nearly all the way back toward his shoulder blades; which in fact to some degree it did.
Inquiring if it troubled him often Loda thought back to when it truly bothered him before answering. He looked out toward the ocean and then over toward the smoldering fire that was going out. As he did his hair on the far end sneakily slid over his shoulder and fell down, getting in her way. “Oh sorry,” he said, pulling it back to the front of his body. He then quickly answered, “I think...when there are storms, like how we are in monsoon season now...when it is very bad it hurts. Also when I wrestle random Myrian women.” he looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and a nasal chuckle. Regaining some semblance of seriousness he said, “When I throw my spear or climb it can hurt. I do not do these things gently, so...You know. I do try to rest it though.”
.
Other's Words - My Words - My Thoughts
Denizen of Black Rock
-----------------------------------
As instructed the large man stayed where he was, letting Kiva examine him. He had a studious look upon his face, contemplating what she meant by wanting “to look first”. The friction of her hands as she cleaned off the sand made her fingertips warm to the touch, though quickly his skin adapted to them. Her palm he found was warmer and seemed to retain the heat against him longer. As she pressed faithfully into his shoulder, it didn’t bother him so much as she just used her palm. As she felt, she could sense that it was at least as lengthy as his spearpoint, yet was more deep than first realized.
As she balanced upon his shoulder he endured the pain she caused as she pushed even deeper. There it was, series of torn muscles and ligaments trying desperately to heal, and though they had, they were very tight and abused greatly. It was no wonder though given the fact they just wrestled for a few chimes, not to mention him spearing a fish, carrying it ashore, then fighting with her with a kris; a very light weapon that needed great speed. She mentioned to him to tell her whether she applied too much pressure and he nodded. His breath began to be held to endure further pain, not out of stubbornness or pride, but it was how he was raised.
She began to roll his muscles and that made a slight groan come from him as would have been expected and when she asked if it hurt he shook his head no, saying, “It does, but not so bad. In a way it feels good...it’s hard to explain. I’m alright.” He nodded firmly and after a while of her doing that it started to feel better. He had never had a massage, but his mother or anyone before. He was always the more silent reserved one of the clan rather than the crazed blood screaming maniac some were. Yet his actions spoke louder than his words to his clan, so he was never rejected, and above all never felt dejected for not being like others.
As she told him a story of her mother he inclined his head to listen to her. She spoke of her mother, who seemed to be a warrior, which was not so common amongst her people from little of what he understood. Perhaps she was a scout he wondered.
“I was stationed there for a good portion of my time as a Rekrut. I don’t doubt she was sore. Damned Dhani are always trying to sneak past. What did your mother do? Was she of a high rank?”
He could see Kiva’s slight smile as she worked. It made him chuckle a bit and he gestured toward her smile. “You are smiling.” he grinned, “This must bring back good memories for you then.” he figured it was either that or she just really was either peaceful in this moment, seeing how she was staring out now at the sea, or she -really- liked massages. He didn’t think that the latter was the case.
She curved from his wound to now massage down his spine and outward from it with just light fingertips, which strangely seemed to help the pain in his shoulder. He wondered as she did that, if because the wound was so deep, that it meant his injury went nearly all the way back toward his shoulder blades; which in fact to some degree it did.
Inquiring if it troubled him often Loda thought back to when it truly bothered him before answering. He looked out toward the ocean and then over toward the smoldering fire that was going out. As he did his hair on the far end sneakily slid over his shoulder and fell down, getting in her way. “Oh sorry,” he said, pulling it back to the front of his body. He then quickly answered, “I think...when there are storms, like how we are in monsoon season now...when it is very bad it hurts. Also when I wrestle random Myrian women.” he looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and a nasal chuckle. Regaining some semblance of seriousness he said, “When I throw my spear or climb it can hurt. I do not do these things gently, so...You know. I do try to rest it though.”
.
Other's Words - My Words - My Thoughts