Teytis tel Jobont is not living up to her lantelis.
She had been en route to her usual position after a rest-and-resupply period. Instead of the expected uneventful trip, somehow she loses her anchors, falls through a bizarrely shaped storm, then finds herself impossibly over land instead of water and with her upper antennas chopped off like they were never there.
She was able to stabilize with only minor damage to the uninhabited land, but she cannot hear a single intelligible signal, and a hundred other things add up to this is no place anyone has ever seen before. Or rather, reported seeing before.
So here she sits in the sky, relaying nothing, thinking about everything.
calescent
"A little. I'm generally read as very sweela, but I'm introverted, which is off-type, and that surprises people."
synchrosyntheses
“I didn't mean fitting the personality type so much as, like, speaking on behalf of Fire itself. —Maybe that's silly, I don't even know if that's a plausible thing; I don't have the benefit of even having heard of Welce two days ago, much less growing up here.”
calescent
"I don't think anyone expects Fire itself to speak, through me or otherwise."
calescent
"Yes. I find I occupy a very comfortable optimum between power and obligation, anyway."
synchrosyntheses
Teytis seems to be out of small talk. The book continues to accumulate.
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