log [ marco! polo! ]
Where: Lakeshore, Benden Weyr
Who: Cr'pel, H'den, H'lam, Katelin, Pierzoth, Rhenzeth, Sembruth, Talraith
What: On a foggy morning, Cr'pel runs the weyrlings through drills and, using the weather to his advantage, through visualization drills - not without some tensions.
Southern Bowl Late Winter. Fog. 37F / 3C.
The primary feature of this end of the mile-long bowl is the Weyr's lake, which takes up nearly a quarter of the bowl's capacity by itself. About two dragonlengths deep at the deepest part - which is safely nestled along the wall of the bowl, far from the shore - the water is fairly clear for all that it's warm. Even in the winter, the water never really dips below "chilly," heated as it is by the Weyr's internal thermals. Occupying the southwestern corner, the southeastern finger of the lake puddles around the fence to the feeding grounds.
The tunnel to the weyrling barracks opens on the eastern side of the bowl, just north of the patio-like overhang that serves as the Weyr's stables. Almost directly across from this on the western wall is the tunnel leading in to the lower caverns, meeting up with the road out of the Weyr.
Morning fog drifts to and fro around the Bowl, perhaps leading some weyrlings that the exercises that started about a seven ago might not take place. However, they'd be wrong. Cr'pel's voice comes a-sounding through the mist. "Weyrlings form up!" Whlie Sembruth moves to corral the dragonets, thoughts calm but good-humored. << Hey there little guys and gals, c'mon with me and we'll do some stretchin' while Cr'pel makes all of your riders huff n' puff around. >>
H'lam and Rhenzeth obey fairly quickly, as it were. H'lam falls silently into the same position he always falls into - the back left corner, where no one's behind him and where he can sufficiently see just about everything; meanwhile, Rhenzeth snorts loudly, almost disdainfully. << We spend so much time stretching, >> he says, though his cadence doesn't make it a complaint, there's a bitter undertaste to the words that says he wishes they spent thier time doing other things.
H'den stares quietly out into the fog as he crouches next to the large brown, and every once and a while, the newly made Brownrider will chuckle and nodded or shake his head and point to something out into the mist. Talraith also stares out into the fog, his large eyes looking intently at the world beyond the barracks, and when Cr'pel's voice is heard the small dragons give a soft bulge as his eyes whirl faster in happiness. <> He projects to everyone in the room before waddling outside to the meeting place. H'den again just chuckles and follows the baby brown outside and takes up his normal position (dead center, front row). At Rhenzeth's comment, Talraith turns to look at his fellow clutchmate << But isn't it nice to go outside. I hope we see something new today.>>
Hands on hips, Cr'pel waits for the Weyrlings to arrange themselves, eyes fixed keenly on them as they get set. "Next time try to do that thirty seconds faster," he says a little dryly, then eyes the ranks. "Who wants to lead today?" he calls out next. This might be a surprise. So far one of the weyrlingmasters has always led morning exercises. Sembruth meanwhile is hunkering down low, low, low. << Down to the ground, >> he's encouraging his little charges.
Rhenzeth is low, low, loooow. His large wings, still so very cumbersome, flex and steeple and extend and then retract as he tries to maintain his balance on Sembruth's cue. He looks expectantly towards H'lam when Cr'pel seeks volunteers, and nearly falls off balance when he snakes his long neck around to execute the motion. And though there's not a single doubt that H'lam /knows/ his lifemate is staring, and even more that he /nows/ what the bronze expects, H'lam stays very still, as stationary as that neutral frown of his. If you don't move, weyrlingmasters can't see you.
At Cr'pel's words the little brown turns away from his own lessons to look at his rider. Giving a soft croon, he gives a mental push before calling out to his rider (and to everyone else at this point) <>, giving the unique feeling that it was an order from dragon to rider. H'den chuckles softly again and raises his hand to volunteer. "I will, sir," he calls out with a clear voice Once that is done, the large brown almost seems like he is nodding in satisfaction and turns back to the other dragons just in time to see Rhenzeth fall over, which gets all his attention at the moment.
It's not a long wait before H'den and one other rider lift hands and Cr'pel looks between them, then eyes Talraith for a moment. "C'mon up H'den, remember 'em all from yesterday?" Sembruth waits until the little ones are all hunkered then reverses direction and stretches up and up and up. << Now reach up! And when I say so, open your wings! >> Cr'pel stands back, gesturing for H'den to take his place as leader, watching the Weyrling closely.
Rhenzeth looks particularly slighted when Talraith speaks before H'lam does - even if it's quite clear that H'lam wasn't planning on speaking at all. Rhenzeth's precarious balance remains that, though he does seem to have it better than some. And most of his problem comes from those sharding wings being folded, so the prospect of spreading them has him looking rather impatient for a cue, while H'lam looks...less than thrilled for morning exercises.
H'den gives a slightly cocky nod but make sure to tact on the respectful "Yes, sir" before stepping forward and turning to face that group. In a matter that speaks of someone that is use to supervising others, he raises his voice enough to get everyone attention before identifying the first set of excises and starts the count. "One, two, three " he calls out as he eyes scans the line of weyrlings for any signs of weakness or just plan slacking, noting each person that seems to fall into one of those categorizes. Talraith has forgotten the smaller bronze and seems to have been encouraged by Weyrlingmaster's acceptances of H'den's request. Hunkered down and then back up, the rather large baby brown impatiently waits for the cue, his whole little body shaking with the effort to hold back.
Clearing his throat, Cr'pel leans forward a little. "Do it with them," he tells H'den with a little smirk, waiting for the brownriding weyrling to get started before joining in himself. The assistant's eyes glance down the line, settle on H'lam briefly even as another gout of fog swings through making visibility a little difficult. Sembruth's mindtouch slips here and there, bolstering wobbly dragonets. << And go! >> His own wings snap open, the scarring along that one wing is obvious, the wingsail just ... all wrong. << And hold. >>
Rhenzeth is far better in moments. His sails snap loudly, but immediately he's perfectly balanced, his whip-thin tail swishing carefully to counterbalance him that small amount he might be off. Though he's seen it before, the young bronze seems intent on Sembruth's wing, and more importantly what's different about it in regards to the rest of thiers. Prudently, he remains quiet on the matter, but there's a twitch from H'lam that suggests his lifemate is saying things that are probably not amazingly tactful. Eventually, the weyrling hisses, "Shhhh," in the general direction of the dragon formation.
H'den gives a bit of a jump before starting the excises himself, frowning slightly at Cr'pel when the older brownrider isn't looking. Once the first set is done, he calls the final count and finished up the once that he has missed. Once that is done, he gives a second or two before call out "Lunges," and starts the process all over again. Meanwhile, Talraith is so eager to start that when Sembruth calls out the go signal, the small brown lets his go in a way that doesn't do anything for his balance. Wobbling back and forth, the brown fights to keep from falling over, his tail swishing back and forth as he struggles with the extra momentum that his wings has given him. However, the brown is a fast learner because just before it seems that he would loss it all, he is able to balance out.
Observing the dragonets Sembruth has words of praise for all. << Good job! >> He's got private advice for a little blue who topples over though and noses forward to help him upright. Cr'pel meantime is just grinning sidelong at H'den before he starts in on the exercises himself though that one arm stays put against his body during the jumping jacks. "Let's change things up today," he tells H'den after a bit. "Add in something new, hm?"
Rhenzeth is just close enough to that blue to be annoyed when it falls, and especially close enough for him to fold his wings and take a few deliberate steps away, rumbling a low growl of warning. Fall on my tailfork and I'll knock you over again. It doesn't take much after that for him to grow bored, however, and he announces, mostly for Sembruth, << /I/ am stretched out. We should move on now, rather than waste the morning. >> H'lam grimaces slightly in response to his lifemate's outburst, though at least refrains from expressing his own desire to do...anything beyond lunges. Or other menial exercises.
Talraith listens to Sembruth's advice even if it isn't for him. He slowly inches forwards to the blue so that he can see better After the advice is give, the brown turns around to look at his rider causing H'den to quickly have to stifle a chuckle as Cr'pel speaks to him. "Yes, sir," he says as he calls an end to the lunges. It only takes him a second to decide on what to do. He calls out in quick but precede directions to the next excises. "We use this back at the Hall to help prevent back strain when lifting up and carrying the baskets." He explains as he demonstrates the stretch. Once he is sure that everyone knows what to do, he starts in on the count. . When Rhenzeth has his outburst, the larger brown turns to look at him. << I think we should move on, but we aren't wasting our morning we are learning. >>
Sembruth's voice takes on a more authoritarian edge, without getting overly pushy. << We need to finish the exercises. It's not a waste to get your muscles ready so you don't get hurt. >> Cr'pel follows along with the next set of stretches then dismisses H'den. "Thank you H'den. Because it's so foggy this morning, we'll hold off on laps until later. For now, everyone gather around, we're going to do a little visualizing, which the fog is actually good for."
There's not a single doubt about it. If Rhenzeth was capable of rolling his eyes, he'd be doing it now, in lieu of continuing stretching. He stays silent instead, and has the poor grace to look marginally jealous when the weyrling riders stop thier exercises and seem prepared to move on, looking more than slightly miffed that they are getting his way, and he is not. H'lam's movements are carefully executed when the weyrling group moves. He keeps his distance, and is on the outside fringe, hands in his pocket and just close enough to hear and see, even if the latter might be just barely if the arrangement of students moves even slightly.
<< Rhenzeth. One more. >> Sembruth is saying, but Cr'pel is explaining the visualization exercise to the group. "Go get lost in the fog. Have your dragon find you is pretty much it," the assistant says. "They have to find you by what you tell them, or their sense of you. So. Go on. Spread out, go head off into the murk." And he's squinting out at the stuff a little suspiciously.
Hiding. Now /there/ is something H'lam is exceptionally good at, and he seems all too eager to oblige the moment Cr'pel dismisses them. The bronzerider disappears fairly quickly, as it were - the fog is thick enough that it doesn't take much before he's out of sight-range, but there's not a doubt he goes further than even that. Rhenzeth doesn't seem particularly concerned, as it were, nor is he particularly annoyed by being singled out. One more it is, then, and the bronze completes the motions all very deliberately before straightening and resettling his wings. << I will bet I find mine quickest. >>
<< We'll see won't we? >> Sembruth responds with a quiet mental chuckle and sits back on his haunches to observe. His damaged wing folded back out of the way again. Cr'pel moves over by his brown and leans against him, waiting as the weyrlings disperse. << Ready? Go! >> the brown tells the dragonets.
Katelin comes out of the barracks.
Pierzoth comes out of the barracks.
Katelin slips off into the fog in a diagonal direction from the one H'lam took. Pierzoth sits up straight, raising her head and tilting it from side to side. She gives a dragonet-sized bugle, then sits back on her haunches.
Wherever H'lam has settled down, Rhenzeth's confidence doesn't flag when they're set free in thier search. The bronze takes confident steps, his head high and his eyes whirling in concentration. Every once in a while, he stops, one paw in the air and vaguely resembling a hunting hound that's caught a sent, before taking unconcerned steps again in the general direction he saw H'lam wander off to. And then he, too, is gone, noted only by a low warble now and then. Marco! Polo!
Pierzoth seems miffed when her bugle does not result in Katelin's immediately appearance. Sulkily, she gets to her feet again and, with her tail snaking from side to side behind her as she goes, she heads off into the fog, pausing every now and then to get her bearings and occasionally to adjust her heading.
Leaning back against Sembruth, Cr'pel closes his eyes, presumably keeping an eye on things though the brown. Then again, he could just be napping. << You actually have to find her, >> Sembruth reminds Pierzoth even as she moves away. And then it's mostly quiet but for the odd call back and forth. "OW!" someone calls out after a moment. And then "Sir? What do we do if we bump into someone else's dragon?" Cr'pel sighs and opens his eyes. "Stay there until you find yours. Let them keep going." Irascible around the edges.
Rhenzeth is only slightly frustrated - not at being left behind or alone, but at what is apparently /horrible/ visualization on H'lam's part. Or horrible attention on his own. << I can not see anything but /fog/, >> he establishes irritably, the sharp tang of metal and the creaking of bad hinges in his voice. Demonstratively, as though he must prove he's telling nothing but the truth, he broadcasts to everyone precisely what he's being sent - which is, no doubt, what H'lam is seeing too: shadows or formations in the fog, very difficult to tell, but nevertheless not particularly helpful.
Pierzoth isn't a fan of this exercise. << It would be easier if she would come to me! >> she points out snootily. Nonetheless, she continues her careful exploration of the fog. Katelin is completely and utterly silent, whereever she is.
Sembruth tries to soothe: << Please don't send to everyone Rhenzeth, it makes it harder if we can only see the fog. >> Cr'pel is snorting audibly. "H'lam! Give that bronze of yours better directions, will you?" he hollers out loudly. Sembruth is more diplomatic, kinder. << Easier maybe Pierzoth, but that's not what you were asked to do. >>
From within the swirling fog comes another bugle, this one triumphant, followed by: "OW! Pierzoth! You don't have to knock me over! Wasn't the first time enough?" Unfazed, Pierzoth broadcasts her triumph on a wind band. << I found her! She's right here! I found her! You cannot hide from /me/, Katelin. >>
If H'lam was inclined to sigh in exasperation, he probably would, but responsible weyrling that he is, he only does as he's told and guides Rhenzeth 'better'. Which really, in the long run, only means he convinces Rhenzeth to pay more attention to those shapes he's providd. Only moments after Pierzoth's triumphant bugle comes Rhenzeth's, a tenor sound that's still not entirely pleased. After all, he was not /first/. "Oh, shush. You found me just fine. You don't have to be first in everything. If you'd stop getting so impatient you'd do much better." << Yes, well, if you'd give me better directions, I would not have to be impatient. >> Now.../now/ H'lam sighs. "Stop acting like a child."
<< Excellent, good job Pierzoth! >> Sembruth congratulates the first finder. << Back to Cr'pel. You have an hour of free time this evening instead of chores. >> And Cr'pel is echoing that. "Kateline and Pierzoth report back in. H'lam and Rhenzeth too please. Hour of free time to Katelin, half hour to H'lam!" he calls out then leans back against Sembruth waiting. Another call goes out and a blue-pair are called back in. It takes a little while longer for the rest to match up and Sembruth has to help one pair, but they're eventually all back. "All right kids, that was your first taste of something we'll be doing for a while. Usually y'all get blindfolded for that one, so be ready for that. It's to help you learn to visualize to each other better so you don't get lost Between when we get to Between jumping. Okay, now off with you for some breakfast. After breakfast, report to Geneve for drills."
"They're not yet three weeks old," Katelin points out to H'lam in a mild tone, her irritation softened by the prospect of an hour of free time. She and Pierzoth make their way back to Cr'pel quickly, emerging from the fog side-by-side.
"I didn't ask you," H'lam says as the pair return to Cr'pel. But he's not the confrontational sort, and so the words probably don't quite reach Katelin, at least not until Rhenzeth says to Pierzoth, << Mine would prefer if your rider kept her comments to herself. If we'd like your opinions, we'd certainly inquire after them. >> He doesn't break stride as he speaks.
Cr'pel flicks a look between H'lam and Katelin. "Do I need to revoke those rewards, weyrlings?" he asks them with a narrowed gaze. Sembruth is checking over some of the returning dragonets. Really he's almost paternal with them.
Katelin looks up from watching Sembruth fawn over one of the blues, and the faint smile she had fades from her face. "No, sir," she says calmly and evenly. "Thank you for the hour of free time."
[DTU] To Rhenzeth, Pierzoth projects, << He is welcome to his preferences. >>
H'lam is dead silent, giving Rhenzeth an icy look that seems to be plenty to shut the dragon up at least for the time being. His distaste for Katelin and Pierzoth? Still clearly evident, his nose angled a little higher to the sky than it really needs to be for general impressions, but at least he's not insulting the young gold or her rider. "No, sir," H'lam finally finds the energy to echo.
There's still that back and forth look going on from Cr'pel. "Good. Behave." He says simply. "Practice visuals everyone when there's no class going on!" Then the assistant is peeling away towards the living cavern himself while Sembruth slips upward through the fog for a break on his ledge.
Who: Cr'pel, H'den, H'lam, Katelin, Pierzoth, Rhenzeth, Sembruth, Talraith
What: On a foggy morning, Cr'pel runs the weyrlings through drills and, using the weather to his advantage, through visualization drills - not without some tensions.
Southern Bowl Late Winter. Fog. 37F / 3C.
The primary feature of this end of the mile-long bowl is the Weyr's lake, which takes up nearly a quarter of the bowl's capacity by itself. About two dragonlengths deep at the deepest part - which is safely nestled along the wall of the bowl, far from the shore - the water is fairly clear for all that it's warm. Even in the winter, the water never really dips below "chilly," heated as it is by the Weyr's internal thermals. Occupying the southwestern corner, the southeastern finger of the lake puddles around the fence to the feeding grounds.
The tunnel to the weyrling barracks opens on the eastern side of the bowl, just north of the patio-like overhang that serves as the Weyr's stables. Almost directly across from this on the western wall is the tunnel leading in to the lower caverns, meeting up with the road out of the Weyr.
Morning fog drifts to and fro around the Bowl, perhaps leading some weyrlings that the exercises that started about a seven ago might not take place. However, they'd be wrong. Cr'pel's voice comes a-sounding through the mist. "Weyrlings form up!" Whlie Sembruth moves to corral the dragonets, thoughts calm but good-humored. << Hey there little guys and gals, c'mon with me and we'll do some stretchin' while Cr'pel makes all of your riders huff n' puff around. >>
H'lam and Rhenzeth obey fairly quickly, as it were. H'lam falls silently into the same position he always falls into - the back left corner, where no one's behind him and where he can sufficiently see just about everything; meanwhile, Rhenzeth snorts loudly, almost disdainfully. << We spend so much time stretching, >> he says, though his cadence doesn't make it a complaint, there's a bitter undertaste to the words that says he wishes they spent thier time doing other things.
H'den stares quietly out into the fog as he crouches next to the large brown, and every once and a while, the newly made Brownrider will chuckle and nodded or shake his head and point to something out into the mist. Talraith also stares out into the fog, his large eyes looking intently at the world beyond the barracks, and when Cr'pel's voice is heard the small dragons give a soft bulge as his eyes whirl faster in happiness. <> He projects to everyone in the room before waddling outside to the meeting place. H'den again just chuckles and follows the baby brown outside and takes up his normal position (dead center, front row). At Rhenzeth's comment, Talraith turns to look at his fellow clutchmate << But isn't it nice to go outside. I hope we see something new today.>>
Hands on hips, Cr'pel waits for the Weyrlings to arrange themselves, eyes fixed keenly on them as they get set. "Next time try to do that thirty seconds faster," he says a little dryly, then eyes the ranks. "Who wants to lead today?" he calls out next. This might be a surprise. So far one of the weyrlingmasters has always led morning exercises. Sembruth meanwhile is hunkering down low, low, low. << Down to the ground, >> he's encouraging his little charges.
Rhenzeth is low, low, loooow. His large wings, still so very cumbersome, flex and steeple and extend and then retract as he tries to maintain his balance on Sembruth's cue. He looks expectantly towards H'lam when Cr'pel seeks volunteers, and nearly falls off balance when he snakes his long neck around to execute the motion. And though there's not a single doubt that H'lam /knows/ his lifemate is staring, and even more that he /nows/ what the bronze expects, H'lam stays very still, as stationary as that neutral frown of his. If you don't move, weyrlingmasters can't see you.
At Cr'pel's words the little brown turns away from his own lessons to look at his rider. Giving a soft croon, he gives a mental push before calling out to his rider (and to everyone else at this point) <>, giving the unique feeling that it was an order from dragon to rider. H'den chuckles softly again and raises his hand to volunteer. "I will, sir," he calls out with a clear voice Once that is done, the large brown almost seems like he is nodding in satisfaction and turns back to the other dragons just in time to see Rhenzeth fall over, which gets all his attention at the moment.
It's not a long wait before H'den and one other rider lift hands and Cr'pel looks between them, then eyes Talraith for a moment. "C'mon up H'den, remember 'em all from yesterday?" Sembruth waits until the little ones are all hunkered then reverses direction and stretches up and up and up. << Now reach up! And when I say so, open your wings! >> Cr'pel stands back, gesturing for H'den to take his place as leader, watching the Weyrling closely.
Rhenzeth looks particularly slighted when Talraith speaks before H'lam does - even if it's quite clear that H'lam wasn't planning on speaking at all. Rhenzeth's precarious balance remains that, though he does seem to have it better than some. And most of his problem comes from those sharding wings being folded, so the prospect of spreading them has him looking rather impatient for a cue, while H'lam looks...less than thrilled for morning exercises.
H'den gives a slightly cocky nod but make sure to tact on the respectful "Yes, sir" before stepping forward and turning to face that group. In a matter that speaks of someone that is use to supervising others, he raises his voice enough to get everyone attention before identifying the first set of excises and starts the count. "One, two, three " he calls out as he eyes scans the line of weyrlings for any signs of weakness or just plan slacking, noting each person that seems to fall into one of those categorizes. Talraith has forgotten the smaller bronze and seems to have been encouraged by Weyrlingmaster's acceptances of H'den's request. Hunkered down and then back up, the rather large baby brown impatiently waits for the cue, his whole little body shaking with the effort to hold back.
Clearing his throat, Cr'pel leans forward a little. "Do it with them," he tells H'den with a little smirk, waiting for the brownriding weyrling to get started before joining in himself. The assistant's eyes glance down the line, settle on H'lam briefly even as another gout of fog swings through making visibility a little difficult. Sembruth's mindtouch slips here and there, bolstering wobbly dragonets. << And go! >> His own wings snap open, the scarring along that one wing is obvious, the wingsail just ... all wrong. << And hold. >>
Rhenzeth is far better in moments. His sails snap loudly, but immediately he's perfectly balanced, his whip-thin tail swishing carefully to counterbalance him that small amount he might be off. Though he's seen it before, the young bronze seems intent on Sembruth's wing, and more importantly what's different about it in regards to the rest of thiers. Prudently, he remains quiet on the matter, but there's a twitch from H'lam that suggests his lifemate is saying things that are probably not amazingly tactful. Eventually, the weyrling hisses, "Shhhh," in the general direction of the dragon formation.
H'den gives a bit of a jump before starting the excises himself, frowning slightly at Cr'pel when the older brownrider isn't looking. Once the first set is done, he calls the final count and finished up the once that he has missed. Once that is done, he gives a second or two before call out "Lunges," and starts the process all over again. Meanwhile, Talraith is so eager to start that when Sembruth calls out the go signal, the small brown lets his go in a way that doesn't do anything for his balance. Wobbling back and forth, the brown fights to keep from falling over, his tail swishing back and forth as he struggles with the extra momentum that his wings has given him. However, the brown is a fast learner because just before it seems that he would loss it all, he is able to balance out.
Observing the dragonets Sembruth has words of praise for all. << Good job! >> He's got private advice for a little blue who topples over though and noses forward to help him upright. Cr'pel meantime is just grinning sidelong at H'den before he starts in on the exercises himself though that one arm stays put against his body during the jumping jacks. "Let's change things up today," he tells H'den after a bit. "Add in something new, hm?"
Rhenzeth is just close enough to that blue to be annoyed when it falls, and especially close enough for him to fold his wings and take a few deliberate steps away, rumbling a low growl of warning. Fall on my tailfork and I'll knock you over again. It doesn't take much after that for him to grow bored, however, and he announces, mostly for Sembruth, << /I/ am stretched out. We should move on now, rather than waste the morning. >> H'lam grimaces slightly in response to his lifemate's outburst, though at least refrains from expressing his own desire to do...anything beyond lunges. Or other menial exercises.
Talraith listens to Sembruth's advice even if it isn't for him. He slowly inches forwards to the blue so that he can see better After the advice is give, the brown turns around to look at his rider causing H'den to quickly have to stifle a chuckle as Cr'pel speaks to him. "Yes, sir," he says as he calls an end to the lunges. It only takes him a second to decide on what to do. He calls out in quick but precede directions to the next excises. "We use this back at the Hall to help prevent back strain when lifting up and carrying the baskets." He explains as he demonstrates the stretch. Once he is sure that everyone knows what to do, he starts in on the count. . When Rhenzeth has his outburst, the larger brown turns to look at him. << I think we should move on, but we aren't wasting our morning we are learning. >>
Sembruth's voice takes on a more authoritarian edge, without getting overly pushy. << We need to finish the exercises. It's not a waste to get your muscles ready so you don't get hurt. >> Cr'pel follows along with the next set of stretches then dismisses H'den. "Thank you H'den. Because it's so foggy this morning, we'll hold off on laps until later. For now, everyone gather around, we're going to do a little visualizing, which the fog is actually good for."
There's not a single doubt about it. If Rhenzeth was capable of rolling his eyes, he'd be doing it now, in lieu of continuing stretching. He stays silent instead, and has the poor grace to look marginally jealous when the weyrling riders stop thier exercises and seem prepared to move on, looking more than slightly miffed that they are getting his way, and he is not. H'lam's movements are carefully executed when the weyrling group moves. He keeps his distance, and is on the outside fringe, hands in his pocket and just close enough to hear and see, even if the latter might be just barely if the arrangement of students moves even slightly.
<< Rhenzeth. One more. >> Sembruth is saying, but Cr'pel is explaining the visualization exercise to the group. "Go get lost in the fog. Have your dragon find you is pretty much it," the assistant says. "They have to find you by what you tell them, or their sense of you. So. Go on. Spread out, go head off into the murk." And he's squinting out at the stuff a little suspiciously.
Hiding. Now /there/ is something H'lam is exceptionally good at, and he seems all too eager to oblige the moment Cr'pel dismisses them. The bronzerider disappears fairly quickly, as it were - the fog is thick enough that it doesn't take much before he's out of sight-range, but there's not a doubt he goes further than even that. Rhenzeth doesn't seem particularly concerned, as it were, nor is he particularly annoyed by being singled out. One more it is, then, and the bronze completes the motions all very deliberately before straightening and resettling his wings. << I will bet I find mine quickest. >>
<< We'll see won't we? >> Sembruth responds with a quiet mental chuckle and sits back on his haunches to observe. His damaged wing folded back out of the way again. Cr'pel moves over by his brown and leans against him, waiting as the weyrlings disperse. << Ready? Go! >> the brown tells the dragonets.
Katelin comes out of the barracks.
Pierzoth comes out of the barracks.
Katelin slips off into the fog in a diagonal direction from the one H'lam took. Pierzoth sits up straight, raising her head and tilting it from side to side. She gives a dragonet-sized bugle, then sits back on her haunches.
Wherever H'lam has settled down, Rhenzeth's confidence doesn't flag when they're set free in thier search. The bronze takes confident steps, his head high and his eyes whirling in concentration. Every once in a while, he stops, one paw in the air and vaguely resembling a hunting hound that's caught a sent, before taking unconcerned steps again in the general direction he saw H'lam wander off to. And then he, too, is gone, noted only by a low warble now and then. Marco! Polo!
Pierzoth seems miffed when her bugle does not result in Katelin's immediately appearance. Sulkily, she gets to her feet again and, with her tail snaking from side to side behind her as she goes, she heads off into the fog, pausing every now and then to get her bearings and occasionally to adjust her heading.
Leaning back against Sembruth, Cr'pel closes his eyes, presumably keeping an eye on things though the brown. Then again, he could just be napping. << You actually have to find her, >> Sembruth reminds Pierzoth even as she moves away. And then it's mostly quiet but for the odd call back and forth. "OW!" someone calls out after a moment. And then "Sir? What do we do if we bump into someone else's dragon?" Cr'pel sighs and opens his eyes. "Stay there until you find yours. Let them keep going." Irascible around the edges.
Rhenzeth is only slightly frustrated - not at being left behind or alone, but at what is apparently /horrible/ visualization on H'lam's part. Or horrible attention on his own. << I can not see anything but /fog/, >> he establishes irritably, the sharp tang of metal and the creaking of bad hinges in his voice. Demonstratively, as though he must prove he's telling nothing but the truth, he broadcasts to everyone precisely what he's being sent - which is, no doubt, what H'lam is seeing too: shadows or formations in the fog, very difficult to tell, but nevertheless not particularly helpful.
Pierzoth isn't a fan of this exercise. << It would be easier if she would come to me! >> she points out snootily. Nonetheless, she continues her careful exploration of the fog. Katelin is completely and utterly silent, whereever she is.
Sembruth tries to soothe: << Please don't send to everyone Rhenzeth, it makes it harder if we can only see the fog. >> Cr'pel is snorting audibly. "H'lam! Give that bronze of yours better directions, will you?" he hollers out loudly. Sembruth is more diplomatic, kinder. << Easier maybe Pierzoth, but that's not what you were asked to do. >>
From within the swirling fog comes another bugle, this one triumphant, followed by: "OW! Pierzoth! You don't have to knock me over! Wasn't the first time enough?" Unfazed, Pierzoth broadcasts her triumph on a wind band. << I found her! She's right here! I found her! You cannot hide from /me/, Katelin. >>
If H'lam was inclined to sigh in exasperation, he probably would, but responsible weyrling that he is, he only does as he's told and guides Rhenzeth 'better'. Which really, in the long run, only means he convinces Rhenzeth to pay more attention to those shapes he's providd. Only moments after Pierzoth's triumphant bugle comes Rhenzeth's, a tenor sound that's still not entirely pleased. After all, he was not /first/. "Oh, shush. You found me just fine. You don't have to be first in everything. If you'd stop getting so impatient you'd do much better." << Yes, well, if you'd give me better directions, I would not have to be impatient. >> Now.../now/ H'lam sighs. "Stop acting like a child."
<< Excellent, good job Pierzoth! >> Sembruth congratulates the first finder. << Back to Cr'pel. You have an hour of free time this evening instead of chores. >> And Cr'pel is echoing that. "Kateline and Pierzoth report back in. H'lam and Rhenzeth too please. Hour of free time to Katelin, half hour to H'lam!" he calls out then leans back against Sembruth waiting. Another call goes out and a blue-pair are called back in. It takes a little while longer for the rest to match up and Sembruth has to help one pair, but they're eventually all back. "All right kids, that was your first taste of something we'll be doing for a while. Usually y'all get blindfolded for that one, so be ready for that. It's to help you learn to visualize to each other better so you don't get lost Between when we get to Between jumping. Okay, now off with you for some breakfast. After breakfast, report to Geneve for drills."
"They're not yet three weeks old," Katelin points out to H'lam in a mild tone, her irritation softened by the prospect of an hour of free time. She and Pierzoth make their way back to Cr'pel quickly, emerging from the fog side-by-side.
"I didn't ask you," H'lam says as the pair return to Cr'pel. But he's not the confrontational sort, and so the words probably don't quite reach Katelin, at least not until Rhenzeth says to Pierzoth, << Mine would prefer if your rider kept her comments to herself. If we'd like your opinions, we'd certainly inquire after them. >> He doesn't break stride as he speaks.
Cr'pel flicks a look between H'lam and Katelin. "Do I need to revoke those rewards, weyrlings?" he asks them with a narrowed gaze. Sembruth is checking over some of the returning dragonets. Really he's almost paternal with them.
Katelin looks up from watching Sembruth fawn over one of the blues, and the faint smile she had fades from her face. "No, sir," she says calmly and evenly. "Thank you for the hour of free time."
[DTU] To Rhenzeth, Pierzoth projects, << He is welcome to his preferences. >>
H'lam is dead silent, giving Rhenzeth an icy look that seems to be plenty to shut the dragon up at least for the time being. His distaste for Katelin and Pierzoth? Still clearly evident, his nose angled a little higher to the sky than it really needs to be for general impressions, but at least he's not insulting the young gold or her rider. "No, sir," H'lam finally finds the energy to echo.
There's still that back and forth look going on from Cr'pel. "Good. Behave." He says simply. "Practice visuals everyone when there's no class going on!" Then the assistant is peeling away towards the living cavern himself while Sembruth slips upward through the fog for a break on his ledge.