Outside Vienda | 14th Hour, Morning
12 Roalis 2720
With Maro following the instruction given, Gale worked quickly on the leak. As the offending pipe was held in place by the Wick, the smith was able to put their strength into sealing the pipe. A collection of stiff turns, the spray of water turned into a drip that barely oozed from the gap. They would have to give it another look over when back at the forge - replace the pipes and threads as necessary. But, this ride out of the city proved one thing; the coolant was working and was a necessary piece to add to the machine.
Brushing the gathered droplets away, the smith gave their thanks and farewells to the Wick; the man continuing on his journey - or hunt, Gale was not quite sure what he was doing. They perched beside the Steel Horse, listening to the internal clicks as pressure was restored inside its coolant jacket. They lit another cigarette, lazily watching the river flow on past while the waterfowl swam about its shallows.
All in all it was a valid learning experience; their legs still felt a little sore from the bumpy passage - but that was something that could be worked on. No one wanted to replicate the experience of the bone-shakers. A better method to start it would not go amiss either.
Better grip, easier to start. A crank, perhaps? Maybe a way to turn it off immediately also.
But the ride itself? They pressed their palm against their chest, aware only then of the palpitations. It was exciting; Gale did not know what to do with that kind of energy, their eyes darting briefly to the welded shape of the Steel Horse. It was far from the sickening dread of the resistance, and the underhand subterfuge that they emersed themselves in. It was freeing, a release from the noise of the world that allowed them to for once think clearly and consistently.
With the engine sufficiently cooled, they topped up the cooling jacket once more. Leg swung over the saddle, back straight and goggles down - they started the machine with familiar growing ease. But they still respected it; it was still a beast of a contraption that needed further taming to reach its final form. They turned the Steel horse around on the road, gave the river one last look back, and with the curl of the accelerator the Smith began the journey home to Vienda.
Brushing the gathered droplets away, the smith gave their thanks and farewells to the Wick; the man continuing on his journey - or hunt, Gale was not quite sure what he was doing. They perched beside the Steel Horse, listening to the internal clicks as pressure was restored inside its coolant jacket. They lit another cigarette, lazily watching the river flow on past while the waterfowl swam about its shallows.
All in all it was a valid learning experience; their legs still felt a little sore from the bumpy passage - but that was something that could be worked on. No one wanted to replicate the experience of the bone-shakers. A better method to start it would not go amiss either.
Better grip, easier to start. A crank, perhaps? Maybe a way to turn it off immediately also.
But the ride itself? They pressed their palm against their chest, aware only then of the palpitations. It was exciting; Gale did not know what to do with that kind of energy, their eyes darting briefly to the welded shape of the Steel Horse. It was far from the sickening dread of the resistance, and the underhand subterfuge that they emersed themselves in. It was freeing, a release from the noise of the world that allowed them to for once think clearly and consistently.
With the engine sufficiently cooled, they topped up the cooling jacket once more. Leg swung over the saddle, back straight and goggles down - they started the machine with familiar growing ease. But they still respected it; it was still a beast of a contraption that needed further taming to reach its final form. They turned the Steel horse around on the road, gave the river one last look back, and with the curl of the accelerator the Smith began the journey home to Vienda.
