The Birthday Presents
All the world is birthday cake, so take a piece, but not too much. ~George Harrison
OOC Date: April 17, 2010
IC Date: Day 4, month 7, turn 22 of Interval 10
Who: Silarra, G'brion, Pterath, Liniath
Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Silarra and Gabe exchange birthday presents, and a liiitle bit too much information.
Pterath has this way of mentally sneaking up on other dragons. One moment she's minding her own business, then next she's just THERE, as if for all the world she always had been. Her mental grasp is firm and all-invasive; like kudzu in weeds, there's no getting away from it. But she's friendly enough, with images of the lake shore and the sun sparkling off the water. << We are going swimming-and-fishing, will you come, Liniath? My rider wants to talk to yours, so you should bring her, too. >>
Liniath radiates pure girlish excitement at the thought of that, not seeming to mind the sudden thereness too much. << Ooh! I love swimming-and-fishing! Maybe I can catch one of the wiggly ones. I'll bring Silarra along. She has treasure to share. Wait. I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Don't share with yours. It's a surprise treasure! >>
Pterath is pleased. << Good! I won't tell anyone about the treasure. Iskiveth might find out, and try to take it. >> Treasure must be guarded carefully, among these dragons. << My rider says there ought to be lots of fish today, because the weather is so nice. I wonder where they go when it isn't nice. >> There's a fanciful image of an underwater network of caverns, much like the caverns the humans all disappear into when it rains. By the time
Silarra arrives at the lakeshore, Gabe has gotten stripped down to a pair of stretchy shorts, ready for his swim, but he's not in the water yet. He's got his clothes and something else piled up next to the rock he's sitting on. Pterath has waded out until the water just covers her wings, and is watching the surface of the lake, hoping to see fish swimming by below.
<< We're here! >> Liniath calls out cheerfully as the pair make it to the lakeshore. Silarra is dressed in a lightweight old shirt and shorts, her version of swimming clothes, with a bundle held together by a towel tucked under her arms. Liniath takes off for the water as Silarra makes her way over to Gabe, a smile on her face for once.
G'brion waves, smiling back, and calls out, "Happy Turnday!" to Silarra. He bends down to rummage in that little pile of clothing-and-stuff by his feet, and pulls out a cloth-wrapped bundle with a ribbon on it. "Got you a present," he says as she gets near, and holds out the package. It's about a foot long, six inches wide, six inches deep, and it's soft, but heavier than it ought to be if there were only cloth in there.
Silarra grins back. "Happy late Turnday to you!" Even though she'd probably told him Happy Turnday a few days before. "Nice to be 16 isn't it?" At least, she seems happy about it. Her bundle is put down on the ground to take the package. "Another present. Turndays are wonderful." And for once, there isn't even sarcasm there. It won't take her long to be untieing that ribbon, carefully opening the package.
"It is!" Gabe agrees. "At least I've been growing, so people don't think I'm twelve or whatever." He grins broadly as he watches her open the package. The contents are... pink. With a very lacy ruffle. Unwrapped and unfolded, it turns out to be the girliest, /granniest/ nightgown ever assembled in the history of Pern. Pink with little pink flowers. Almost big enough for two Silarras to fit inside it. A little bit faded - probably from that bin of clothes nobody would be caught dead wearing that they keep in stores for some reason. But folded up in the middle was a wooden box about twice the size of a fist, latched closed. That must be the real present.
Silarra wrinkles her nose as she sees the color. That alone is bad enough, but add in the lace and the granniness. "Gabe! That made you think of me?" She holds it up for a second show just how enormous it would be before she's throwing it at him. Thankfully, the wooden box doesn't go with it. That she holds, looking the box over before she opens it to peek inside.
"Hee hee hee!" Gabe ducks, and catches the gown. "What, you're not going to try it on?" he asks, thoroughly enjoying her reaction - though, he does peer over to see what she thinks of what's inside the box. A firelizard egg, wrapped in soft cloth for protection.
Silarra sticks her tongue out at Gabe. "No! I don't think I could even get that, that /thing/ to stay on my shoulders." Once the box is open, she peers inside for a moment before looking back up. "Is this for a firelizard? Looks like a minature dragon egg." She reaches over with one finger to touch it lightly.
"Yep!" Gabe says proudly. "Mom's gold laid a clutch, and I got dad to give me an egg. I mean, I dunno if you actually want a firelizard, but I figured if you don't, you could sell it or swap it for something you do want. People pay pretty good for 'em, at least holders do."
"Thank you! Could be cool to have a firelizard, if they'll let me. Maybe it would give Liniath someone to play with. Or to make do silly things." Silarra peers down to the egg again. "How long do you think it'll be before it hatches?" And then her gaze moves to the bundle. "Oh. And that's for you. One from me and one from Dad. Well, the towel's mine. Got one for Gevran from Dad back in the barracks, too." Inside the towel are two cloth wrapped bundles. One is pretty obviously the size and shape for a book, the other an oblong, hard, rectangle about six inches by a foot.
"Um, it's pretty hard, but not quite all the way hard," Gabe answers. "So, like, a seven or so, I think? Enough time to decide. Firelizards can be neat. I had one when I was a kid, but it died or something." He beams when she mentions his presents, and reaches to unwrap the book-shaped object first. "Thanks! That's real nice of you guys," he says as he holds it up to see what it is.
Silarra close the box, setting it aside somewhere safe. "Perfect. Either way it'll be good." She really is in a cheery mood today. Maybe Silarra should have a Turnday everyday. "That one's from Dad, and the clan, I guess." It's a book of short stories, meant for adults rather than kids. "I told him in a letter once about Pterath liking stories, so he thought you might need some new ones."
"Oh, neat!" Intrigued, G'brion pages through the book briefly, scanning the titles. Then he sets it aside, under his clothes to be safe, and reaches for the other package. "That's real nice of 'em. How're they doing? I was just saying to some people the other day, I think this is the longest stretch of time I haven't left the weyr since I was a tiny baby. It seems like forever since I saw 'em all."
"They're good. Trading's going well this summer, I think. Dad said in the letter he sent with the presents that they'll be by High Reaches at the end of the summer. I can't believe I've lived here almost a turn. Never been in one place that long before. Never really longer than the coldest winter months." Silarra shifts positition with a bit of a smirk on her face as Gabe reaches for the other present. Up close, it smells pretty girly.
G'brion is puzzled by the smell, but intrigued; he rips off the wrapping to investigate. "That's good," he says. "It'll be nice to see them. It's always fun to look over what they've got for sale."
Inside is a simple wooden box. The top is a slat that will slide out to the side through grooves in the rest of the box. Inside are an assortment of bath products, each with a very frippy smell to it. "You have no idea how much Liniath wanted me to keep that and use it." Silarra states wth a shake of her head.
G'brion laughs delightedly. "Awesome. Well, you can borrow them?" he offers. "I mean, keeping Liniath happy is important, right?" Pterath, bored with the lack of luck she's having at her fishing, has waddled up behind them, her wings and body dripping with water, so she can see what Gabe's got. He holds up the bath stuff to let her look. "See, it smells nice!"
Silarra shakes her head with a laugh. Liniath makes her way over as well, peering at the box. "No. I am not going to change my mind, Liniath. I want to smell like clean, plain old soap." She insists with a shake of her head. "Well, I'm not Gabe." Is added, continueing the discussion out loud.
G'brion snickers as he puts the bath products down with his other stuff, and then reaches up to rub Pterath's lowered head affectionately. "I wonder if they make scented oil for dragons," he says thoughtfully. "Bet Liniath would like that." Pterath warbles at her rider, and says to Liniath << These are good presents. >> Gabe, apparently, is happy with them. There's a warm I'm-loved glow that she lifts from the top of his mind and impresses on Liniath.
Silarra wrinkles her nose over at Gabe. Might be a marker of her good mood that she doesn't punch him. "Don't you go giving her ideas. She's already trying to convince me to use smelly shit and to wear girly clothes. Saw someone in a bikini and asked why I don't have one." Nevermind that even if Silarra was the same height a year ago, a bikini from then wouldn't cover everything now. Liniath eyes Silarra for a second and then just savors the feeling Pterath shares. << Good! Silarra is so happy today. It is nice. It feels so good when she is happy! >> Liniath states, as if this is rare feeling for her.
"What's wrong with having a bikini?" G'brion doesn't get that - not like he cares one way or another about women's swimwear, of course. "That must be so weird. Pterath doesn't really care what I wear." He rubs at her muzzle again, and gives her head an affectionate shove. << Yes, it is good, >> the green agrees with Liniath. << Is she not happy often? >>
"Bikini's are for showing off your body. Not like getting in the bath, but like walking around showing off your curves." Silarra states, crossing her arms self consiously across her chest. "I don't think I'm ready to show them off." Silarra pauses for a moment before she adds. "That would be kind of nice. Liniath doesn't think I care enough about what I wear. I mean, if clothes are neat, clean, and comfortable, isn't that good enough?"
Liniath looks over to Pterath, planting her butt in the sand as she thinks. << No. But sometimes she is. When she's doing the fighting thing. Or we're swimming. Sometimes /I/ can make her happy. >>
"I guess it depends what you're wearing them for," Gabe says, and shrugs. "If you're just out for a run or mucking the stables, it probably doesn't matter. But if you're at a party, maybe you want something nicer." Pterath tilts her head at Liniath, intrigued. << How do you do that? >>
"I think I'd rather be out for a run or mucking the stables than at some stupid, boring party." Silarra states, reaching a hand over to run it idly along Liniath's side. << Well, it depends. Lots of times I tell her stories about the stupid or silly things that I've heard people or dragons say or do that day. Then she laughs at them and feels happier. >>
G'brion laughs! "Parties aren't boring, if your friends are there," he points out. "I mean, those other things are nice - well, mucking stables isn't, but - ah. Anyway." He shrugs. Pterath mulls over what Liniath has to say and sends wordless agreement: this sounds like a good idea.
"Maybe that's why you like them better." Silarra decides. "You have lots more of those than I do. Most people just manage to piss me off. Runners beat people about ninety percent of the time." Her hand trails up to give scratches to Liniath's eyeridge, getting a blissfully happy croon from the green. << You should try it if your Gabe isn't happy sometime. >>
"Maybe you're just too picky," Gabe suggests, but he's smiling, not critical. "You could try um... not caring as much if people aren't like you think they should be?" Pterath says to Liniath << I may try it. Sometimes he is not. Yyth's makes him itch. >>
Silarra shrugs. "Maybe I am too picky. But how are you just supposed to turn off the fact that people are annoying idiots most of the time? There are a few who aren't. Just not enough." Liniath eyes Pterath curiously. << Yyth makes him itch? Like he needs oil? Maybe he needs to oil himself since you don't have the right hands to do it. >> She sends along a silly image of Pterath trying to use her talons to oil G'brion.
<< No, >> Pterath replies matter-of-factly, << he has to oil himself. I cannot do it. >> The image she passes along - stealthily, so that Gabe won't 'hear' her - is her rider, well, 'oiling' a certain part of his anatomy, vigorously, to relieve a feeling that is itchlike in intensity, if not precisely analagous to a dragon's itchy hide. G'brion, fortunately for him, is blissfully unaware of the conversation occurring between the two dragons. "I dunno," he says, blinking at Silarra. "I guess I don't think they are? Everyone's an idiot once in a while, and a few people are idiots most of the time, like Z'karo, but most people aren't idiots very often."
Unfortunately, Liniath isn't so stealthy. << Why does he do that? Is his skin there all dry and patchy? >> And the image must be shared with Silarra because all of a sudden she turns bright red. "Liniath! I didn't want to see that!" Whatever they were talking about before is gone as she looks over to Gabe with embarrassment then quickly away.
<< There is nothing wrong with his skin, >> Pterath says, negating that idea abruptly. << Yyth's rider makes him itch. >> There's a faint undercurrent of resentment about that, but she's learned to accept it: it doesn't last long, in any case. Gabe just peers at Silarra. "What? See what?" he asks, glancing at Liniath and then back to Silarra.
Silarra just flushes even redder and shakes her head. There's no way she's saying what Liniath shared. Not to her cousin. "I, uh, maybe you should ask Pterath?" They seem to have settled on the one real topic to make Silarra uncomfortable. Liniath tilts her head curiously. << Maybe Yyth's rider does not make Silarra itch because she does not have that part? >> And Liniath will helpfully send a visual of what Silarra looks like naked along with that, just to illustrate which part is missing.
G'brion squints at Silarra, then squints at Pterath for a long moment. It takes him some time to get anything out of her, but when he does, he immediately flushes crimson. "Shardit, Pterath, I told you that's private!" He'd slap her muzzle, but she pulls her head out of the way just in time, rumbling in an affronted manner. The green sends a mental flick Liniath's way, a pop; it stings. << You have annoyed him, >> she accuses the other dragon. Because it's totally all Liniath's fault.
Liniath takes a step back at that flick. << Ow! Hey! I don't like that! You don't get to be mean! You showed it to me! >> Liniath states loudly enough to make Silarra rub at her forehead. Must be sharing it with her rider as well.
"ANYWAY!" Gabe says loudly, scowling at Pterath and then turning back to Silarra, still red-faced. "Not everyone is stupid all of the time," he repeats. Let's just pretend that didn't happen, shall we? Pterath snorts at Liniath. << To you. Not to her! >> she says pointedly.
<< You didn't tell me I couldn't share it. Didn't I just tell you I tell her things? >> Liniath sends over a mental hmph. Silarra eyes the greens for a second before she looks down at the ground. "Right. Some people are only stupid some of the time."
"/Most/ people are stupid some of the time," Gabe points out. He also eyes the greens. "And apparently dragons, too," he grumbles. "So, if everyone's stupid some of the time, you have to kind of cut them some slack. Right?"
"Why? Why should I cut someone slack if they're annoying me? It's not making them fun to be around." Silarra points out lifting her gaze only to look across the lake. Her cheeks are still red, and she's not looking over to her cousin. At all.
G'brion gets kind of a pained expression. "Um... because if you never cut people any slack, /you/ won't be any fun to be around," he points out, tentative, like he expects to be slugged for it. He even takes a step back away from her.
Silarra doesn't hit him. This time. That would require looking over at him, after all. And she's still not doing a bit of that. "Maybe I don't really care if I'm fun to be around. That would just make people want to be around me to annoy me more." Silarra states, even if she doesn't sound like she really believes that.
G'brion sighs. "Well," he says. He's really not sure what else to say. Finally, he shrugs his shoulders. "I guess we should probably head inside," he says, subdued. "Thanks for the presents. It was really nice of you."
Silarra looks down to her feet. For a moment it looks like she's going to say something else before she states. "Yeah. You're welcome. Thank you for mine. I think Liniath and I will stay and swim." One quick peek over is given before she'll turn to head to the water, hiding the fact that her expression has gone from as cheerful as she ever gets to unhappy.
G'brion looks, if anything, troubled, as he gathers up his gifts and his clothes and starts back to the barracks. Pterath lingers behind, flopping to the ground and sulking for a while about her rider's departure. By the time he's halfway across the bowl, she decides he really isn't coming back, and gets back to her feet to trudge after him.
OOC Date: April 17, 2010
IC Date: Day 4, month 7, turn 22 of Interval 10
Who: Silarra, G'brion, Pterath, Liniath
Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr
Silarra and Gabe exchange birthday presents, and a liiitle bit too much information.
Pterath has this way of mentally sneaking up on other dragons. One moment she's minding her own business, then next she's just THERE, as if for all the world she always had been. Her mental grasp is firm and all-invasive; like kudzu in weeds, there's no getting away from it. But she's friendly enough, with images of the lake shore and the sun sparkling off the water. << We are going swimming-and-fishing, will you come, Liniath? My rider wants to talk to yours, so you should bring her, too. >>
Liniath radiates pure girlish excitement at the thought of that, not seeming to mind the sudden thereness too much. << Ooh! I love swimming-and-fishing! Maybe I can catch one of the wiggly ones. I'll bring Silarra along. She has treasure to share. Wait. I wasn't supposed to tell you that. Don't share with yours. It's a surprise treasure! >>
Pterath is pleased. << Good! I won't tell anyone about the treasure. Iskiveth might find out, and try to take it. >> Treasure must be guarded carefully, among these dragons. << My rider says there ought to be lots of fish today, because the weather is so nice. I wonder where they go when it isn't nice. >> There's a fanciful image of an underwater network of caverns, much like the caverns the humans all disappear into when it rains. By the time
Silarra arrives at the lakeshore, Gabe has gotten stripped down to a pair of stretchy shorts, ready for his swim, but he's not in the water yet. He's got his clothes and something else piled up next to the rock he's sitting on. Pterath has waded out until the water just covers her wings, and is watching the surface of the lake, hoping to see fish swimming by below.
<< We're here! >> Liniath calls out cheerfully as the pair make it to the lakeshore. Silarra is dressed in a lightweight old shirt and shorts, her version of swimming clothes, with a bundle held together by a towel tucked under her arms. Liniath takes off for the water as Silarra makes her way over to Gabe, a smile on her face for once.
G'brion waves, smiling back, and calls out, "Happy Turnday!" to Silarra. He bends down to rummage in that little pile of clothing-and-stuff by his feet, and pulls out a cloth-wrapped bundle with a ribbon on it. "Got you a present," he says as she gets near, and holds out the package. It's about a foot long, six inches wide, six inches deep, and it's soft, but heavier than it ought to be if there were only cloth in there.
Silarra grins back. "Happy late Turnday to you!" Even though she'd probably told him Happy Turnday a few days before. "Nice to be 16 isn't it?" At least, she seems happy about it. Her bundle is put down on the ground to take the package. "Another present. Turndays are wonderful." And for once, there isn't even sarcasm there. It won't take her long to be untieing that ribbon, carefully opening the package.
"It is!" Gabe agrees. "At least I've been growing, so people don't think I'm twelve or whatever." He grins broadly as he watches her open the package. The contents are... pink. With a very lacy ruffle. Unwrapped and unfolded, it turns out to be the girliest, /granniest/ nightgown ever assembled in the history of Pern. Pink with little pink flowers. Almost big enough for two Silarras to fit inside it. A little bit faded - probably from that bin of clothes nobody would be caught dead wearing that they keep in stores for some reason. But folded up in the middle was a wooden box about twice the size of a fist, latched closed. That must be the real present.
Silarra wrinkles her nose as she sees the color. That alone is bad enough, but add in the lace and the granniness. "Gabe! That made you think of me?" She holds it up for a second show just how enormous it would be before she's throwing it at him. Thankfully, the wooden box doesn't go with it. That she holds, looking the box over before she opens it to peek inside.
"Hee hee hee!" Gabe ducks, and catches the gown. "What, you're not going to try it on?" he asks, thoroughly enjoying her reaction - though, he does peer over to see what she thinks of what's inside the box. A firelizard egg, wrapped in soft cloth for protection.
Silarra sticks her tongue out at Gabe. "No! I don't think I could even get that, that /thing/ to stay on my shoulders." Once the box is open, she peers inside for a moment before looking back up. "Is this for a firelizard? Looks like a minature dragon egg." She reaches over with one finger to touch it lightly.
"Yep!" Gabe says proudly. "Mom's gold laid a clutch, and I got dad to give me an egg. I mean, I dunno if you actually want a firelizard, but I figured if you don't, you could sell it or swap it for something you do want. People pay pretty good for 'em, at least holders do."
"Thank you! Could be cool to have a firelizard, if they'll let me. Maybe it would give Liniath someone to play with. Or to make do silly things." Silarra peers down to the egg again. "How long do you think it'll be before it hatches?" And then her gaze moves to the bundle. "Oh. And that's for you. One from me and one from Dad. Well, the towel's mine. Got one for Gevran from Dad back in the barracks, too." Inside the towel are two cloth wrapped bundles. One is pretty obviously the size and shape for a book, the other an oblong, hard, rectangle about six inches by a foot.
"Um, it's pretty hard, but not quite all the way hard," Gabe answers. "So, like, a seven or so, I think? Enough time to decide. Firelizards can be neat. I had one when I was a kid, but it died or something." He beams when she mentions his presents, and reaches to unwrap the book-shaped object first. "Thanks! That's real nice of you guys," he says as he holds it up to see what it is.
Silarra close the box, setting it aside somewhere safe. "Perfect. Either way it'll be good." She really is in a cheery mood today. Maybe Silarra should have a Turnday everyday. "That one's from Dad, and the clan, I guess." It's a book of short stories, meant for adults rather than kids. "I told him in a letter once about Pterath liking stories, so he thought you might need some new ones."
"Oh, neat!" Intrigued, G'brion pages through the book briefly, scanning the titles. Then he sets it aside, under his clothes to be safe, and reaches for the other package. "That's real nice of 'em. How're they doing? I was just saying to some people the other day, I think this is the longest stretch of time I haven't left the weyr since I was a tiny baby. It seems like forever since I saw 'em all."
"They're good. Trading's going well this summer, I think. Dad said in the letter he sent with the presents that they'll be by High Reaches at the end of the summer. I can't believe I've lived here almost a turn. Never been in one place that long before. Never really longer than the coldest winter months." Silarra shifts positition with a bit of a smirk on her face as Gabe reaches for the other present. Up close, it smells pretty girly.
G'brion is puzzled by the smell, but intrigued; he rips off the wrapping to investigate. "That's good," he says. "It'll be nice to see them. It's always fun to look over what they've got for sale."
Inside is a simple wooden box. The top is a slat that will slide out to the side through grooves in the rest of the box. Inside are an assortment of bath products, each with a very frippy smell to it. "You have no idea how much Liniath wanted me to keep that and use it." Silarra states wth a shake of her head.
G'brion laughs delightedly. "Awesome. Well, you can borrow them?" he offers. "I mean, keeping Liniath happy is important, right?" Pterath, bored with the lack of luck she's having at her fishing, has waddled up behind them, her wings and body dripping with water, so she can see what Gabe's got. He holds up the bath stuff to let her look. "See, it smells nice!"
Silarra shakes her head with a laugh. Liniath makes her way over as well, peering at the box. "No. I am not going to change my mind, Liniath. I want to smell like clean, plain old soap." She insists with a shake of her head. "Well, I'm not Gabe." Is added, continueing the discussion out loud.
G'brion snickers as he puts the bath products down with his other stuff, and then reaches up to rub Pterath's lowered head affectionately. "I wonder if they make scented oil for dragons," he says thoughtfully. "Bet Liniath would like that." Pterath warbles at her rider, and says to Liniath << These are good presents. >> Gabe, apparently, is happy with them. There's a warm I'm-loved glow that she lifts from the top of his mind and impresses on Liniath.
Silarra wrinkles her nose over at Gabe. Might be a marker of her good mood that she doesn't punch him. "Don't you go giving her ideas. She's already trying to convince me to use smelly shit and to wear girly clothes. Saw someone in a bikini and asked why I don't have one." Nevermind that even if Silarra was the same height a year ago, a bikini from then wouldn't cover everything now. Liniath eyes Silarra for a second and then just savors the feeling Pterath shares. << Good! Silarra is so happy today. It is nice. It feels so good when she is happy! >> Liniath states, as if this is rare feeling for her.
"What's wrong with having a bikini?" G'brion doesn't get that - not like he cares one way or another about women's swimwear, of course. "That must be so weird. Pterath doesn't really care what I wear." He rubs at her muzzle again, and gives her head an affectionate shove. << Yes, it is good, >> the green agrees with Liniath. << Is she not happy often? >>
"Bikini's are for showing off your body. Not like getting in the bath, but like walking around showing off your curves." Silarra states, crossing her arms self consiously across her chest. "I don't think I'm ready to show them off." Silarra pauses for a moment before she adds. "That would be kind of nice. Liniath doesn't think I care enough about what I wear. I mean, if clothes are neat, clean, and comfortable, isn't that good enough?"
Liniath looks over to Pterath, planting her butt in the sand as she thinks. << No. But sometimes she is. When she's doing the fighting thing. Or we're swimming. Sometimes /I/ can make her happy. >>
"I guess it depends what you're wearing them for," Gabe says, and shrugs. "If you're just out for a run or mucking the stables, it probably doesn't matter. But if you're at a party, maybe you want something nicer." Pterath tilts her head at Liniath, intrigued. << How do you do that? >>
"I think I'd rather be out for a run or mucking the stables than at some stupid, boring party." Silarra states, reaching a hand over to run it idly along Liniath's side. << Well, it depends. Lots of times I tell her stories about the stupid or silly things that I've heard people or dragons say or do that day. Then she laughs at them and feels happier. >>
G'brion laughs! "Parties aren't boring, if your friends are there," he points out. "I mean, those other things are nice - well, mucking stables isn't, but - ah. Anyway." He shrugs. Pterath mulls over what Liniath has to say and sends wordless agreement: this sounds like a good idea.
"Maybe that's why you like them better." Silarra decides. "You have lots more of those than I do. Most people just manage to piss me off. Runners beat people about ninety percent of the time." Her hand trails up to give scratches to Liniath's eyeridge, getting a blissfully happy croon from the green. << You should try it if your Gabe isn't happy sometime. >>
"Maybe you're just too picky," Gabe suggests, but he's smiling, not critical. "You could try um... not caring as much if people aren't like you think they should be?" Pterath says to Liniath << I may try it. Sometimes he is not. Yyth's makes him itch. >>
Silarra shrugs. "Maybe I am too picky. But how are you just supposed to turn off the fact that people are annoying idiots most of the time? There are a few who aren't. Just not enough." Liniath eyes Pterath curiously. << Yyth makes him itch? Like he needs oil? Maybe he needs to oil himself since you don't have the right hands to do it. >> She sends along a silly image of Pterath trying to use her talons to oil G'brion.
<< No, >> Pterath replies matter-of-factly, << he has to oil himself. I cannot do it. >> The image she passes along - stealthily, so that Gabe won't 'hear' her - is her rider, well, 'oiling' a certain part of his anatomy, vigorously, to relieve a feeling that is itchlike in intensity, if not precisely analagous to a dragon's itchy hide. G'brion, fortunately for him, is blissfully unaware of the conversation occurring between the two dragons. "I dunno," he says, blinking at Silarra. "I guess I don't think they are? Everyone's an idiot once in a while, and a few people are idiots most of the time, like Z'karo, but most people aren't idiots very often."
Unfortunately, Liniath isn't so stealthy. << Why does he do that? Is his skin there all dry and patchy? >> And the image must be shared with Silarra because all of a sudden she turns bright red. "Liniath! I didn't want to see that!" Whatever they were talking about before is gone as she looks over to Gabe with embarrassment then quickly away.
<< There is nothing wrong with his skin, >> Pterath says, negating that idea abruptly. << Yyth's rider makes him itch. >> There's a faint undercurrent of resentment about that, but she's learned to accept it: it doesn't last long, in any case. Gabe just peers at Silarra. "What? See what?" he asks, glancing at Liniath and then back to Silarra.
Silarra just flushes even redder and shakes her head. There's no way she's saying what Liniath shared. Not to her cousin. "I, uh, maybe you should ask Pterath?" They seem to have settled on the one real topic to make Silarra uncomfortable. Liniath tilts her head curiously. << Maybe Yyth's rider does not make Silarra itch because she does not have that part? >> And Liniath will helpfully send a visual of what Silarra looks like naked along with that, just to illustrate which part is missing.
G'brion squints at Silarra, then squints at Pterath for a long moment. It takes him some time to get anything out of her, but when he does, he immediately flushes crimson. "Shardit, Pterath, I told you that's private!" He'd slap her muzzle, but she pulls her head out of the way just in time, rumbling in an affronted manner. The green sends a mental flick Liniath's way, a pop; it stings. << You have annoyed him, >> she accuses the other dragon. Because it's totally all Liniath's fault.
Liniath takes a step back at that flick. << Ow! Hey! I don't like that! You don't get to be mean! You showed it to me! >> Liniath states loudly enough to make Silarra rub at her forehead. Must be sharing it with her rider as well.
"ANYWAY!" Gabe says loudly, scowling at Pterath and then turning back to Silarra, still red-faced. "Not everyone is stupid all of the time," he repeats. Let's just pretend that didn't happen, shall we? Pterath snorts at Liniath. << To you. Not to her! >> she says pointedly.
<< You didn't tell me I couldn't share it. Didn't I just tell you I tell her things? >> Liniath sends over a mental hmph. Silarra eyes the greens for a second before she looks down at the ground. "Right. Some people are only stupid some of the time."
"/Most/ people are stupid some of the time," Gabe points out. He also eyes the greens. "And apparently dragons, too," he grumbles. "So, if everyone's stupid some of the time, you have to kind of cut them some slack. Right?"
"Why? Why should I cut someone slack if they're annoying me? It's not making them fun to be around." Silarra points out lifting her gaze only to look across the lake. Her cheeks are still red, and she's not looking over to her cousin. At all.
G'brion gets kind of a pained expression. "Um... because if you never cut people any slack, /you/ won't be any fun to be around," he points out, tentative, like he expects to be slugged for it. He even takes a step back away from her.
Silarra doesn't hit him. This time. That would require looking over at him, after all. And she's still not doing a bit of that. "Maybe I don't really care if I'm fun to be around. That would just make people want to be around me to annoy me more." Silarra states, even if she doesn't sound like she really believes that.
G'brion sighs. "Well," he says. He's really not sure what else to say. Finally, he shrugs his shoulders. "I guess we should probably head inside," he says, subdued. "Thanks for the presents. It was really nice of you."
Silarra looks down to her feet. For a moment it looks like she's going to say something else before she states. "Yeah. You're welcome. Thank you for mine. I think Liniath and I will stay and swim." One quick peek over is given before she'll turn to head to the water, hiding the fact that her expression has gone from as cheerful as she ever gets to unhappy.
G'brion looks, if anything, troubled, as he gathers up his gifts and his clothes and starts back to the barracks. Pterath lingers behind, flopping to the ground and sulking for a while about her rider's departure. By the time he's halfway across the bowl, she decides he really isn't coming back, and gets back to her feet to trudge after him.