[Lock: Friends] Log: Of Proddy Azath and Paranoid Illya
Who: P'draig, Illya, Lujayn
When:
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Azath is proddy. Illya is paranoid. P'draig and Lujayn stumble into the tidal wave of pre-flight.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
The peaceful lake shore from which the herdbeasts drink runs east, where the sandy shore allows for swimming and relaxing, and curves to the south. The western most portion of the lake is fenced off, to keep the herdbeasts separated from bathing dragons, and is reachable to the south. The bowl stretches far to the northeast, nearly 2 miles long. The weyrling barracks lie a north of here. Immediately to the west, next to the cliffs, are pens in which the herdbeasts are kept.
Jekzith> Azath is stretched out at one side of the feeding pens watching a young blue that sems to be showing off for her. She croons a sigh at him as he flips a loop above the pens before diving down onto a beast. With the beat quickly slain the blue begins to drag it over towaards Azath, but is stopped by a quick snort and a turning of her head - apparent;y he's taken things too far. Illya is sitting on top of the fence, journal in hand, but keeps twitching and glancing round as if she fears being watched.
You head into the feeding ground.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
Jekzith casts a shadow overhead as he glides down lazily towards the feeding grounds, the sun highlighting the motley hues of his hide as he passes by. He eyes that blue curiously as he wings by and lands not too far off, contemplating the restless herd in the pen. << Hello! >> the brown greets the other dragons cheerfully. His rider's not far behind, arriving a few moments later, sleeves rolled up against summer's heat. P'draig spots Illya and picks a spot on the fence nearby to lean on. "Heya," he greets the greenrider with a grin and a wave.
Azath trumpets a bright greeting as Jekzith comes into view, completely turning her back on the young blue and his gift in the process. << Hiiiii. >> Her mind-touch contains a hint of a purr, and she flickers her wings as she moves towards the brown. Illya jumps, there's no other term for it. "Um... Hi, when did you get here? Have you been here long? Why are you here?" Her words come out as a jumble, tripping over each other in a flurry of paranoia.
That tone from Azath swivels Jekzith's head right around and he contemplates the green instead of the herd. << You're looking well today Azath! >> The lanky brown's tone is still cheery, though there's an undercurrent of admiration in there, somewhat tamped down though. "Getting Jekzith some lunch," says P'draig, casual-like. "And it's been about ... two seconds, since I got here?" He tilts a look up at jumpy Illya then his eyes go a little vague as Jekzith communicates with him and when his focus returns it's a sharper look for the young green.
Illya slips down from the fence, trying to hide her journal behind her back, "Really two seconds? You've not been reading over my shoulder or anything? Oh shells, you have haven't you. It's just a story, I was writing a story, none of it's true." In direct contrast Azath purrs back to Jekzith << I know. >> The discarded blue waddles along behind her for a moment before giving up and going off to eat his present on his own, Azath's attention is now definitely on Jekzith. << Do you like my tail? She oiled it for nearly an hour this morning. >>
"Two seconds, I promise," says P'draig solemnly. "And your journal is private. I wouldn't read it unless you asked me to," continues the brownrider, eyes flickering over towards Azath briefly once more. Jekzith is his usual, straightforward self. << Yes. I do. You look very fine out here in the sun. >> His attention swerves away briefly, out to the herd, but he settles back on his haunches, nose gently reaching to bump Azath's, distracted for the time being.
Azath pulls back a little from Jekzith, teasingly just out of reach, and flutters her wings once more. << Dance for me? >> Illya clutches her journal a little tighter. "You're sure? You're not just saying that?" it takes a moment longer before sh believes him and apologises with a nod. "I'm sorry. It's just... they've been spying on me."
"You have my word." P'draig's brows arch questioningly though. "Someone's been spying on you?" there's a hint of surprise on his face, cut short by another look out into the feeding grounds and there's a flash of uneasiness on the brownrider's face. << Dance? >> Jekzith's head cocks to the side, taking in the flutter of Azath's wings then he looks away again, a slight droop in his posture and he's still for a moment, then sidles away a little to leap into the sky, executing a neat barrel roll and some fast turns as he chases after his lunch finally, an aerial dance, totally unnecessary for actually /catching/ a herdbeast. Once he's finally brought the animal down though, he stays with it, not returning to the green's side. << It's always a dance in the sky, >> he projects from some distance away. << between you and the wind. >>
Illya nods, lowering her voice a little. "They think I don't know, but I know. I've seen them. They hide behind things and watch when you think they're not looking." Azath watches Jekzith's 'dance' carefully, head tracking his every move as she does so. << I'm tired of dancing. >> is eventually announced with a sigh. << Sing to me? >>
P'draig considers Illya for a moment, then Azath again and it's likely he's debating a strategy for handling the greenrider's mood. He settles on soothing and loosely playing along. "Who've you seen, Illya?" he asks gently and leans his elbows on the fence again. Jekzith is busily eating that beast he brought down but he looks up at Azath's request. << My mouth is full. But there's songs in his head I can share ? >> The brown shoots a long look over at his rider.
Illya shakes her head a little, "I can't tell you. If I do they might start watching you too. But I know they're there. I can feel them staring. Always staring. But they don't know that I know, and when I catch them..." She doesn't say what she'll do, just gives a wink. << You don't like me any more? >> Azath's reply is sudden and accompanied by a sniff. << Aren't my wings still the prettiest? My tail the longest and shinyest? >>
"Oh. I'll be careful then," says P'draig and tries to offer a reassuring smile. "Azath's looking ... mighty fine today," he makes an attempt at changing the subject. << You're absolutely lovely, >> compliments Jekzith sincerely as he finishes up his meal and abandons the carcass, going over to the lake side of the enclosure where he sticks his head in the water and blows out a stream of bubbles. << And always the best to share bubbles with. >> His thoughts are all colored green, her favorite, but there is a slight sense of hanging back.
Bubbles! That gets Azath's attention right back and she trots over in that direction happily. Spotting a new tactic to try the young blue follows as well nad joins in teh bubble blowing a little firther down from Jekzith. << More! >> Illya hears a noise behind her and spins, but it's only two wherries having a fight over something in their pen. "She always looks lovely, though I am slightly biased." is teh reply to P'draig, then a pause, "Do you think that's why they're watching? They want to steal her!"
This is something Jekzith could probably spend all day doing, so that vehement demand is easy enough to comply with. Shortly the edge of the lake is a mass of happy bubbles, as the brown and the blue both go to town on frothing up the water. P'draig's mostly keeping his eyes on Illya, but the squawking wherries capture his attention briefly as some furry fuzz goes flying during the pecking. "I don't think anyone could steal Azath from you," he continues in that same careful tone of voice and he hesitates for a moment then chances the truth he's getting more certain of by the minute, "but it's entirely possible that she's proddy."
"Oh no, of course not." Illya replies, though she does look over towards her bouncing bubble-addled dragonwith a slight expression of confusion, "She's barely even sparkling a little. It's definitely them, they think they can do things when you're not looking. That's why they watch. And they report back to you know who."
"No one could ever steal her, Illya," P'draig persists, with the same level reassurance in his voice. "But she's being awfully flirty, isn't she?" Still trying to tread carefully while making the greenrider aware, likely out of some sense of duty, P'draig may just be setting himself up for an explosion. Jekzith meanwhile is just having a grand old time making stream after stream of bubbles and coming up for air now and then, to clear his nostrils. That young blue is getting really into it too, sneaking covert looks at Azath that on a human would likely be of the longing, wistful type.
Azath bounce, bounce, bounces her way over and through the bubbles, pausing every now and then to touch one or other of her suitors on the nose. "She's just being nice. Not everyone in the weyr is like you know who." Her heart's not entirely in the statement, no matter how forceful the words actually are. "You're just trying to make me paranoid." Too bad she was already doing well on the paranoid stakes before P'draig even turned up.
Happily enough, Jekzith accepts the odd touch from Azath, keeping her entertained though he doesn't engage too closely. His mind even underscores the visible bubbles with imagined ones in all sorts of fanciful colors, doing acrobatic aerials just as dragons do in flight. "Azath's very nice," says P'draig agreeably, "just ... hang in there, if she is, okay?" And he reaches over to rest his hand on Illya's shoulder lightly.
Illya's hand goes to cover the one on her shoulder. "We're fine, you're just being paranoid. You've been hanging around with bronzeriders too much, they see proddy everywhere." She pauses then adds, "It's why they watch people, you know. So they can be first." Another knowing wink is followed by a quick pat on his hand. "But the won't catch us, we're wise to their tricks."
There's a slightly pained edge to P'draig's smile, but he lets it go, though he does shift his hand briefly to Illya's cheek. "You'll both do very well," he says quietly and then grins broadly at the fun the dragons are having in the water. "They sure do like to make bubbles, don't they?"
Illya smiles slightly at the cheek touch, leaning her head a little that way before replying, "She thinks they go between when they die. I mean burst. She wants to follow them one day and see where they reappear, but of course that's just silly." By now Azath's lying all but submerged in the lake withher snouth directly in the streams of bubbles. Illya suddenly startles and looks around, "Did you hear that? Was that a footstep?"
P'draig's thumb brushes lightly over the greenrider's cheekbone, then his hand drops away and he sticks both safely in his pockets. "It's an interesting thought, that, actually," muses the brownrider thoughtfully, the smile returning to his face as Azath practically lolls in the bubbles. His head turns back towards Illya and he shakes his head. "I didn't hear anything."
Illya frown and turns around. "I know you're out there! You can't have her!" Quieter, for P'draig's ears only she adds, "I think we need to get away somewhere. That way they can't follow us. You distract them and we'll make a run for it."
Stoic, Paddy looks down at Illya and clears his throat. "Where would you like to go?" he keeps his voice low, playing along again, while a slight breeze washes through the Bowl, ruffling his hair and stippling the surface of the lake with little ridged waves. Another dragon puts down, bronze, appropriately enough, rumbling to try to catch Azath's attention as he poses, displaying a nevertheless, less than imposing physique.
Azath does something of a doubletake, and it's clear she's torn between the newly arrived bronze and the bubbles. Bronze wins, and she turns her back on the other two dragons as she purrs to him << Dance for me. >> Illya shakes her head quickly to P'draig, "I can't tell you or they'll torture you. I can't do that to you. Keep them talking and I'll drag her away. I know a place, it's not far."
Preening, the bronze shifts poses and extends his neck, another display and then he starts shimmying around the enclosure in some strange form of dragon dance. Oblivious at first, Jekzith keeps making bubbles. His blue companion cops to the change in Azath more quickly and pulls his snout out of the water and starts to sway this way and that, tail dancing more than the rest of him. P'draig's head drops a little, one hand lifting to cover half his face at this vista. "I'll be all right," he says after a moment, then points out the 'dancing' dragons. "Not sure about them though," he makes an attempt to distract Illya from the paranoia once more. Jekzith finally realizes he's making bubbles all on his own and looks up, muzzle dripping water back into the lake. He watches the little tableau for a moment and there's something about his posture that might speak of quiet regret before he turns and nimbly leaps into the sky, flying away on maple-hued wings.
Azath thumps her tail in the water, tapping out some beat that only she herself can keep track of - faster and slower, louder then softer. Illya casts anotehr glance around, then shuffles a step closer towards P'draig. "Just be careful, please. I don't want them to hurt you. Promise me?" She pauses, then look over towards the dancing dragons and draws in a hissing breath. "Bronze. I don't recognise it, though."
The Weyrlingmaster's eyes track Jekzith up into the sky and there's a telltale glint of gold as the brown vanishes over the edge of the Bowl, this hitches P'draig's eyebrows up in some surprise, but he turns back towards Illya with a nods. "I promise. I'll be very careful. Everything'll be fine." His gaze returns to the dragons and he nods. "That's J'brel's Zordenath. He's in E'din's wing." He keeps his voice neutral.
Illya frowns over at the bronze, "Is he one of them? Does he know them?" She glances around again, catching sight of another brown landing not too far away. "Make them go away. They can't have her, I won't let them."
Lujayn comes over from the east.
This time, P'draig's not sure what to say so he stays quiet for a bit. After a moment, he decides on honesty. "I don't know." The newest arrival in the enclosure earns a slight wince and he clears his throat to suggest gently, "You might want to go up to your weyr for a while. It's safe there." More and more male dragons seem to be taking an interest in Azath. A pair of them, blue and bronze are even 'dancing' out in the feeding grounds. Jekzith meanwhile is nowhere in sight, his distinctive motley hide not among those hanging out near the green.
Illya's usual paranoia seems to have been greatly enhanced by Azath's glowing hide -- she's clutching a book to her and whispering to P'draig between bouts of looking around for 'them'. "They know where we live." Is her next comment, barely audible as Azath commands her audience to now sing to her instead of dancing. While tyhe green preens and laps up the attention, Illya seems to want to make herself smaller and smaller.
Doubtless attracted by all the draconic fussing, Lujayn is pacing around the feeding grounds to get a look at everything. She recognizes not so much Azath but Illya, one eyebrow quirking at the rider's demeanor. A rather pale blue swoops lowly overhead, the wind from his wings blowing the runner's hair every which way. Landing nearby with a proud twist to his sapphire-flecked neck, he gazes with intense silence towards Azath - no rider in sight to bother Illya, at least.
"The Barracks are empty now," comes P'draig's next suggestion, a slight tilt of his head that way. "No one really expects anyone to be in there right now." He seems to be trying to reassure the greenrider, though his eyes shift uneasily over towards Azath and her suitors every now and then. Yet another arrival, tips his head back and he squints against the sun to make out whose blue that is, then catches sight of Lujayn and her pacing. "Hey Lu," he calls over.
Azath's attention wanders, the new blue causig her to look away from her impromptu choir so she can regard him with some interest. Turning her back on the other males she trots over towards him, wings ruffling as she goes and head held high. << Dance for me. >> She purrs to this newcomer, just as she has for every other male in the area. Illya nods slowly, "That might work." But then P'draig greets someone else and she whips round quickly to see Lujayn. "How long have you been here? Are you one of them?"
Lujayn has seen glowing dragon before, of course; there are some things you can't possibly be oblivious to if you grow up in a Weyr. That doesn't mean proddiness is boring, and especially not when Illya's the one on the receiving end. Smiling at a thought, she comes to a halt and leans against the fence. "I'm not a rider. You know that." Not one to sympathize? The speckled, icy blue stretches out two slender forelegs and makes an exaggerated bow, comical but for its intensity. << Does poor Sanoeth dance alone today? >>
P'draig grins over at Lujayn, and underscores her claim of innocence. "Lu's not one them." He sounds pretty sure about that one. "How's it going?" he asks the runner casual-like, trying not to laugh again at the antics out in the grounds.
Illya frowns at Lujayn, "I know /that/, but are you one of /them/? Why are you here?" Even P'draig's assurance that Lu is not one of the mysterious 'them' doesn't help in lessening her paranoia any. She glances around, looking for things that are out of place, people that should not be around. The same cannot be said for Azath, however, who is once agani revelling in the attention. A young blue who has been around for some time has started dancing again, and slowly he's stealing her attention from the newcomer. << Don't you like me any more? >> She pouts at the Sanoeth.
"I'm a me." Lujayn shrugs, fresh out of guesses to who 'they' could be if not riders of the dancing dragons. "Thought I'd come by to watch the show." She looks out towards Azath's display of males, chin resting upon crossed arms. Sanoeth is as close to serpentine as he can get, crouching low and letting his angled head lead the way for a fluid shock of wings and a whipping tail. A quick, graceful circle around Azath, ducking just out of her sight with teasing silence. << It would be more pleasing to dance in the sky. >> The blue answers her questions moreso with his actions than his words.
P'draig cringes visibly as Lujayn says that and he makes a warning face her way. "It sure is a nice day though, isn't it?" he grasps at the straws of pleasantry, even as bronze Zordenath performs another pose, wings extended and then taking a cue from Sanoeth and springs lightly into the sky to show off a few twists and turns in the air.
Azath snorts a breath at Sanoeth and turns her back on him, apparently displeased with his comment, though ahs does cast a glance behind her as the trots back to her other suitors. << Dance for me. >> The order is given once more and the young blue that has been trying so hard redoubles his dancing efforts to try to impress her. Azath's attention is a flightly thing, and as Zordenath launches she watches him closely. Illya is shocked, and takes a step back from Lujayn. "You..." A finger waves in the air, "I know it. You're one of them! You can't have her! I won't let you take her!"
Lujayn isn't oblivious, or is she? Staring straight ahead, it's hard to tell whether or not she catches P'draig's look. "I've always liked summer, yeah." She looks up at the sky, squinting through sunbeams that fleck off Sanoeth's hide as he continues to slither-dance. The bronze's flight is taken as something of a challenge, glacial wings snapping open to send him upwards and down again. "I don't want Azath." The girl says flatly.
Zordenath continues his gyrations up above, trying to re-attract Azath's attention. << The dance is right here >> he broadcasts sonorously, totally ignoring the rest of the males sporting for the green's amusement. "Mm. It's been really warm lately too." P'draig eyes slide sidelong over to Illya and he clears his throat. "It'll be okay." It's probably pointless reassurance now though as time passes and Azath seems only more and more interested in every male who turns up.
It seems the bronze has now made an error, as Azath huffs at him and wanders away from the group completely. Tbe poor little dancing blue slowls down and finally stops as Azath stretches out along the side of the feeding pens and appears to fall asleep. Illya keeps on glaring at Lujayn, sidling away from her and ever more towards Azath. At thelast minute she breaks into a run towards the weyrling barracks and vanishes from sight. She pops her head abck out a couple of times to check on things and make sure she's not been followed, before vanishing completely.
If Lujayn is surprised by the mad dash of the greenrider, she doesn't give words to those thoughts. "She'll go back to normal later, won't she?" A dry chuckle, watching the confused Sanoeth peer over Azath's sleeping form. Should he stay for her wakening or leave? "Or Illya-normal, at least. I think I like her better this way."
P'draig lets out a long breath as things come to a head and Azath sacks out for a nap. The brownrider's gaze follows Illya all the way over to the barracks and he scrubs a hand through his hair, then he turns back to cast a grin Lujayn's way. "She's going to go up any time now, I'm pretty sure," he nods toward the green. "Probably when she wakes up. Some of 'em will probably stick around. Watching. That's probably what's got Illya so flustered." He turns around, putting his back to the interrupted 'show' in the enclosure. "And yeah, she should be back to normal after Azath rises. Well. Normal as anyone can be after a first flight." His brows arch a little at Lu's last. "Oh?"
"Sure. It's not every day there's reason to see her get flustered like this." The dancing dies down - nothing to see? She taps fingers against the fence's rail, picking out a sliver from the wood. "Where's Jekzith?" She asks after a pause.
"Guess there's no love lost between you and Illya then?" muses P'draig, one ankle crossing over the other as he tilts a look up at the clear blue, summer sky then back down as Lu plucks that sliver out of the fence. "Careful," he warns gently. "Jekzith's with Nalaieth," comes the Weyrlingmaster's straightforward explanation. "He was here earlier blowing bubbles for Azath, since she likes that. Jekzith and Azath are usually pretty friendly, but he won't chase her right now."
Lujayn smirks. "Nah. It doesn't help we hardly see one another, so there aren't opportunities to fix that. If I even wanted to." She's curious about that last comment, but decides now is not the time to ask. Pocketing the bit of wood, she grins. "I guess I'll steer clear of the bowl for the rest of the day, then. Plenty of other things to look over. Let me know how things turn out if you can." She pushes off from the fence and starts towards the main portion of the bowl, headed for the dormitories.
"Hmm. Now that's somethiing I might have to ask you about later," says P'draig with a teasing grin. "And ... steering clear's a good idea. As for letting you know ... sure. I'll be hanging out, well out of the way most likely, but Jekzith'll probably tell me, if he can pick his nose up long enough to bother." He waves as the runner heads off, waits a moment by the fence, eyeing a very glowy Azath for a moment, then pushes away, walking towards his office.
When:
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Azath is proddy. Illya is paranoid. P'draig and Lujayn stumble into the tidal wave of pre-flight.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
The peaceful lake shore from which the herdbeasts drink runs east, where the sandy shore allows for swimming and relaxing, and curves to the south. The western most portion of the lake is fenced off, to keep the herdbeasts separated from bathing dragons, and is reachable to the south. The bowl stretches far to the northeast, nearly 2 miles long. The weyrling barracks lie a north of here. Immediately to the west, next to the cliffs, are pens in which the herdbeasts are kept.
Jekzith> Azath is stretched out at one side of the feeding pens watching a young blue that sems to be showing off for her. She croons a sigh at him as he flips a loop above the pens before diving down onto a beast. With the beat quickly slain the blue begins to drag it over towaards Azath, but is stopped by a quick snort and a turning of her head - apparent;y he's taken things too far. Illya is sitting on top of the fence, journal in hand, but keeps twitching and glancing round as if she fears being watched.
You head into the feeding ground.
Fort Weyr Feeding Grounds
Nestled in the southwestern end of the oval-shaped Bowl, this grassy field provides quite a contrast from the unremarkable dirt ground found elsewhere around it. These are the pastures for the herdbeasts which feed the inhabitants of Fort Weyr.
Jekzith casts a shadow overhead as he glides down lazily towards the feeding grounds, the sun highlighting the motley hues of his hide as he passes by. He eyes that blue curiously as he wings by and lands not too far off, contemplating the restless herd in the pen. << Hello! >> the brown greets the other dragons cheerfully. His rider's not far behind, arriving a few moments later, sleeves rolled up against summer's heat. P'draig spots Illya and picks a spot on the fence nearby to lean on. "Heya," he greets the greenrider with a grin and a wave.
Azath trumpets a bright greeting as Jekzith comes into view, completely turning her back on the young blue and his gift in the process. << Hiiiii. >> Her mind-touch contains a hint of a purr, and she flickers her wings as she moves towards the brown. Illya jumps, there's no other term for it. "Um... Hi, when did you get here? Have you been here long? Why are you here?" Her words come out as a jumble, tripping over each other in a flurry of paranoia.
That tone from Azath swivels Jekzith's head right around and he contemplates the green instead of the herd. << You're looking well today Azath! >> The lanky brown's tone is still cheery, though there's an undercurrent of admiration in there, somewhat tamped down though. "Getting Jekzith some lunch," says P'draig, casual-like. "And it's been about ... two seconds, since I got here?" He tilts a look up at jumpy Illya then his eyes go a little vague as Jekzith communicates with him and when his focus returns it's a sharper look for the young green.
Illya slips down from the fence, trying to hide her journal behind her back, "Really two seconds? You've not been reading over my shoulder or anything? Oh shells, you have haven't you. It's just a story, I was writing a story, none of it's true." In direct contrast Azath purrs back to Jekzith << I know. >> The discarded blue waddles along behind her for a moment before giving up and going off to eat his present on his own, Azath's attention is now definitely on Jekzith. << Do you like my tail? She oiled it for nearly an hour this morning. >>
"Two seconds, I promise," says P'draig solemnly. "And your journal is private. I wouldn't read it unless you asked me to," continues the brownrider, eyes flickering over towards Azath briefly once more. Jekzith is his usual, straightforward self. << Yes. I do. You look very fine out here in the sun. >> His attention swerves away briefly, out to the herd, but he settles back on his haunches, nose gently reaching to bump Azath's, distracted for the time being.
Azath pulls back a little from Jekzith, teasingly just out of reach, and flutters her wings once more. << Dance for me? >> Illya clutches her journal a little tighter. "You're sure? You're not just saying that?" it takes a moment longer before sh believes him and apologises with a nod. "I'm sorry. It's just... they've been spying on me."
"You have my word." P'draig's brows arch questioningly though. "Someone's been spying on you?" there's a hint of surprise on his face, cut short by another look out into the feeding grounds and there's a flash of uneasiness on the brownrider's face. << Dance? >> Jekzith's head cocks to the side, taking in the flutter of Azath's wings then he looks away again, a slight droop in his posture and he's still for a moment, then sidles away a little to leap into the sky, executing a neat barrel roll and some fast turns as he chases after his lunch finally, an aerial dance, totally unnecessary for actually /catching/ a herdbeast. Once he's finally brought the animal down though, he stays with it, not returning to the green's side. << It's always a dance in the sky, >> he projects from some distance away. << between you and the wind. >>
Illya nods, lowering her voice a little. "They think I don't know, but I know. I've seen them. They hide behind things and watch when you think they're not looking." Azath watches Jekzith's 'dance' carefully, head tracking his every move as she does so. << I'm tired of dancing. >> is eventually announced with a sigh. << Sing to me? >>
P'draig considers Illya for a moment, then Azath again and it's likely he's debating a strategy for handling the greenrider's mood. He settles on soothing and loosely playing along. "Who've you seen, Illya?" he asks gently and leans his elbows on the fence again. Jekzith is busily eating that beast he brought down but he looks up at Azath's request. << My mouth is full. But there's songs in his head I can share ? >> The brown shoots a long look over at his rider.
Illya shakes her head a little, "I can't tell you. If I do they might start watching you too. But I know they're there. I can feel them staring. Always staring. But they don't know that I know, and when I catch them..." She doesn't say what she'll do, just gives a wink. << You don't like me any more? >> Azath's reply is sudden and accompanied by a sniff. << Aren't my wings still the prettiest? My tail the longest and shinyest? >>
"Oh. I'll be careful then," says P'draig and tries to offer a reassuring smile. "Azath's looking ... mighty fine today," he makes an attempt at changing the subject. << You're absolutely lovely, >> compliments Jekzith sincerely as he finishes up his meal and abandons the carcass, going over to the lake side of the enclosure where he sticks his head in the water and blows out a stream of bubbles. << And always the best to share bubbles with. >> His thoughts are all colored green, her favorite, but there is a slight sense of hanging back.
Bubbles! That gets Azath's attention right back and she trots over in that direction happily. Spotting a new tactic to try the young blue follows as well nad joins in teh bubble blowing a little firther down from Jekzith. << More! >> Illya hears a noise behind her and spins, but it's only two wherries having a fight over something in their pen. "She always looks lovely, though I am slightly biased." is teh reply to P'draig, then a pause, "Do you think that's why they're watching? They want to steal her!"
This is something Jekzith could probably spend all day doing, so that vehement demand is easy enough to comply with. Shortly the edge of the lake is a mass of happy bubbles, as the brown and the blue both go to town on frothing up the water. P'draig's mostly keeping his eyes on Illya, but the squawking wherries capture his attention briefly as some furry fuzz goes flying during the pecking. "I don't think anyone could steal Azath from you," he continues in that same careful tone of voice and he hesitates for a moment then chances the truth he's getting more certain of by the minute, "but it's entirely possible that she's proddy."
"Oh no, of course not." Illya replies, though she does look over towards her bouncing bubble-addled dragonwith a slight expression of confusion, "She's barely even sparkling a little. It's definitely them, they think they can do things when you're not looking. That's why they watch. And they report back to you know who."
"No one could ever steal her, Illya," P'draig persists, with the same level reassurance in his voice. "But she's being awfully flirty, isn't she?" Still trying to tread carefully while making the greenrider aware, likely out of some sense of duty, P'draig may just be setting himself up for an explosion. Jekzith meanwhile is just having a grand old time making stream after stream of bubbles and coming up for air now and then, to clear his nostrils. That young blue is getting really into it too, sneaking covert looks at Azath that on a human would likely be of the longing, wistful type.
Azath bounce, bounce, bounces her way over and through the bubbles, pausing every now and then to touch one or other of her suitors on the nose. "She's just being nice. Not everyone in the weyr is like you know who." Her heart's not entirely in the statement, no matter how forceful the words actually are. "You're just trying to make me paranoid." Too bad she was already doing well on the paranoid stakes before P'draig even turned up.
Happily enough, Jekzith accepts the odd touch from Azath, keeping her entertained though he doesn't engage too closely. His mind even underscores the visible bubbles with imagined ones in all sorts of fanciful colors, doing acrobatic aerials just as dragons do in flight. "Azath's very nice," says P'draig agreeably, "just ... hang in there, if she is, okay?" And he reaches over to rest his hand on Illya's shoulder lightly.
Illya's hand goes to cover the one on her shoulder. "We're fine, you're just being paranoid. You've been hanging around with bronzeriders too much, they see proddy everywhere." She pauses then adds, "It's why they watch people, you know. So they can be first." Another knowing wink is followed by a quick pat on his hand. "But the won't catch us, we're wise to their tricks."
There's a slightly pained edge to P'draig's smile, but he lets it go, though he does shift his hand briefly to Illya's cheek. "You'll both do very well," he says quietly and then grins broadly at the fun the dragons are having in the water. "They sure do like to make bubbles, don't they?"
Illya smiles slightly at the cheek touch, leaning her head a little that way before replying, "She thinks they go between when they die. I mean burst. She wants to follow them one day and see where they reappear, but of course that's just silly." By now Azath's lying all but submerged in the lake withher snouth directly in the streams of bubbles. Illya suddenly startles and looks around, "Did you hear that? Was that a footstep?"
P'draig's thumb brushes lightly over the greenrider's cheekbone, then his hand drops away and he sticks both safely in his pockets. "It's an interesting thought, that, actually," muses the brownrider thoughtfully, the smile returning to his face as Azath practically lolls in the bubbles. His head turns back towards Illya and he shakes his head. "I didn't hear anything."
Illya frown and turns around. "I know you're out there! You can't have her!" Quieter, for P'draig's ears only she adds, "I think we need to get away somewhere. That way they can't follow us. You distract them and we'll make a run for it."
Stoic, Paddy looks down at Illya and clears his throat. "Where would you like to go?" he keeps his voice low, playing along again, while a slight breeze washes through the Bowl, ruffling his hair and stippling the surface of the lake with little ridged waves. Another dragon puts down, bronze, appropriately enough, rumbling to try to catch Azath's attention as he poses, displaying a nevertheless, less than imposing physique.
Azath does something of a doubletake, and it's clear she's torn between the newly arrived bronze and the bubbles. Bronze wins, and she turns her back on the other two dragons as she purrs to him << Dance for me. >> Illya shakes her head quickly to P'draig, "I can't tell you or they'll torture you. I can't do that to you. Keep them talking and I'll drag her away. I know a place, it's not far."
Preening, the bronze shifts poses and extends his neck, another display and then he starts shimmying around the enclosure in some strange form of dragon dance. Oblivious at first, Jekzith keeps making bubbles. His blue companion cops to the change in Azath more quickly and pulls his snout out of the water and starts to sway this way and that, tail dancing more than the rest of him. P'draig's head drops a little, one hand lifting to cover half his face at this vista. "I'll be all right," he says after a moment, then points out the 'dancing' dragons. "Not sure about them though," he makes an attempt to distract Illya from the paranoia once more. Jekzith finally realizes he's making bubbles all on his own and looks up, muzzle dripping water back into the lake. He watches the little tableau for a moment and there's something about his posture that might speak of quiet regret before he turns and nimbly leaps into the sky, flying away on maple-hued wings.
Azath thumps her tail in the water, tapping out some beat that only she herself can keep track of - faster and slower, louder then softer. Illya casts anotehr glance around, then shuffles a step closer towards P'draig. "Just be careful, please. I don't want them to hurt you. Promise me?" She pauses, then look over towards the dancing dragons and draws in a hissing breath. "Bronze. I don't recognise it, though."
The Weyrlingmaster's eyes track Jekzith up into the sky and there's a telltale glint of gold as the brown vanishes over the edge of the Bowl, this hitches P'draig's eyebrows up in some surprise, but he turns back towards Illya with a nods. "I promise. I'll be very careful. Everything'll be fine." His gaze returns to the dragons and he nods. "That's J'brel's Zordenath. He's in E'din's wing." He keeps his voice neutral.
Illya frowns over at the bronze, "Is he one of them? Does he know them?" She glances around again, catching sight of another brown landing not too far away. "Make them go away. They can't have her, I won't let them."
Lujayn comes over from the east.
This time, P'draig's not sure what to say so he stays quiet for a bit. After a moment, he decides on honesty. "I don't know." The newest arrival in the enclosure earns a slight wince and he clears his throat to suggest gently, "You might want to go up to your weyr for a while. It's safe there." More and more male dragons seem to be taking an interest in Azath. A pair of them, blue and bronze are even 'dancing' out in the feeding grounds. Jekzith meanwhile is nowhere in sight, his distinctive motley hide not among those hanging out near the green.
Illya's usual paranoia seems to have been greatly enhanced by Azath's glowing hide -- she's clutching a book to her and whispering to P'draig between bouts of looking around for 'them'. "They know where we live." Is her next comment, barely audible as Azath commands her audience to now sing to her instead of dancing. While tyhe green preens and laps up the attention, Illya seems to want to make herself smaller and smaller.
Doubtless attracted by all the draconic fussing, Lujayn is pacing around the feeding grounds to get a look at everything. She recognizes not so much Azath but Illya, one eyebrow quirking at the rider's demeanor. A rather pale blue swoops lowly overhead, the wind from his wings blowing the runner's hair every which way. Landing nearby with a proud twist to his sapphire-flecked neck, he gazes with intense silence towards Azath - no rider in sight to bother Illya, at least.
"The Barracks are empty now," comes P'draig's next suggestion, a slight tilt of his head that way. "No one really expects anyone to be in there right now." He seems to be trying to reassure the greenrider, though his eyes shift uneasily over towards Azath and her suitors every now and then. Yet another arrival, tips his head back and he squints against the sun to make out whose blue that is, then catches sight of Lujayn and her pacing. "Hey Lu," he calls over.
Azath's attention wanders, the new blue causig her to look away from her impromptu choir so she can regard him with some interest. Turning her back on the other males she trots over towards him, wings ruffling as she goes and head held high. << Dance for me. >> She purrs to this newcomer, just as she has for every other male in the area. Illya nods slowly, "That might work." But then P'draig greets someone else and she whips round quickly to see Lujayn. "How long have you been here? Are you one of them?"
Lujayn has seen glowing dragon before, of course; there are some things you can't possibly be oblivious to if you grow up in a Weyr. That doesn't mean proddiness is boring, and especially not when Illya's the one on the receiving end. Smiling at a thought, she comes to a halt and leans against the fence. "I'm not a rider. You know that." Not one to sympathize? The speckled, icy blue stretches out two slender forelegs and makes an exaggerated bow, comical but for its intensity. << Does poor Sanoeth dance alone today? >>
P'draig grins over at Lujayn, and underscores her claim of innocence. "Lu's not one them." He sounds pretty sure about that one. "How's it going?" he asks the runner casual-like, trying not to laugh again at the antics out in the grounds.
Illya frowns at Lujayn, "I know /that/, but are you one of /them/? Why are you here?" Even P'draig's assurance that Lu is not one of the mysterious 'them' doesn't help in lessening her paranoia any. She glances around, looking for things that are out of place, people that should not be around. The same cannot be said for Azath, however, who is once agani revelling in the attention. A young blue who has been around for some time has started dancing again, and slowly he's stealing her attention from the newcomer. << Don't you like me any more? >> She pouts at the Sanoeth.
"I'm a me." Lujayn shrugs, fresh out of guesses to who 'they' could be if not riders of the dancing dragons. "Thought I'd come by to watch the show." She looks out towards Azath's display of males, chin resting upon crossed arms. Sanoeth is as close to serpentine as he can get, crouching low and letting his angled head lead the way for a fluid shock of wings and a whipping tail. A quick, graceful circle around Azath, ducking just out of her sight with teasing silence. << It would be more pleasing to dance in the sky. >> The blue answers her questions moreso with his actions than his words.
P'draig cringes visibly as Lujayn says that and he makes a warning face her way. "It sure is a nice day though, isn't it?" he grasps at the straws of pleasantry, even as bronze Zordenath performs another pose, wings extended and then taking a cue from Sanoeth and springs lightly into the sky to show off a few twists and turns in the air.
Azath snorts a breath at Sanoeth and turns her back on him, apparently displeased with his comment, though ahs does cast a glance behind her as the trots back to her other suitors. << Dance for me. >> The order is given once more and the young blue that has been trying so hard redoubles his dancing efforts to try to impress her. Azath's attention is a flightly thing, and as Zordenath launches she watches him closely. Illya is shocked, and takes a step back from Lujayn. "You..." A finger waves in the air, "I know it. You're one of them! You can't have her! I won't let you take her!"
Lujayn isn't oblivious, or is she? Staring straight ahead, it's hard to tell whether or not she catches P'draig's look. "I've always liked summer, yeah." She looks up at the sky, squinting through sunbeams that fleck off Sanoeth's hide as he continues to slither-dance. The bronze's flight is taken as something of a challenge, glacial wings snapping open to send him upwards and down again. "I don't want Azath." The girl says flatly.
Zordenath continues his gyrations up above, trying to re-attract Azath's attention. << The dance is right here >> he broadcasts sonorously, totally ignoring the rest of the males sporting for the green's amusement. "Mm. It's been really warm lately too." P'draig eyes slide sidelong over to Illya and he clears his throat. "It'll be okay." It's probably pointless reassurance now though as time passes and Azath seems only more and more interested in every male who turns up.
It seems the bronze has now made an error, as Azath huffs at him and wanders away from the group completely. Tbe poor little dancing blue slowls down and finally stops as Azath stretches out along the side of the feeding pens and appears to fall asleep. Illya keeps on glaring at Lujayn, sidling away from her and ever more towards Azath. At thelast minute she breaks into a run towards the weyrling barracks and vanishes from sight. She pops her head abck out a couple of times to check on things and make sure she's not been followed, before vanishing completely.
If Lujayn is surprised by the mad dash of the greenrider, she doesn't give words to those thoughts. "She'll go back to normal later, won't she?" A dry chuckle, watching the confused Sanoeth peer over Azath's sleeping form. Should he stay for her wakening or leave? "Or Illya-normal, at least. I think I like her better this way."
P'draig lets out a long breath as things come to a head and Azath sacks out for a nap. The brownrider's gaze follows Illya all the way over to the barracks and he scrubs a hand through his hair, then he turns back to cast a grin Lujayn's way. "She's going to go up any time now, I'm pretty sure," he nods toward the green. "Probably when she wakes up. Some of 'em will probably stick around. Watching. That's probably what's got Illya so flustered." He turns around, putting his back to the interrupted 'show' in the enclosure. "And yeah, she should be back to normal after Azath rises. Well. Normal as anyone can be after a first flight." His brows arch a little at Lu's last. "Oh?"
"Sure. It's not every day there's reason to see her get flustered like this." The dancing dies down - nothing to see? She taps fingers against the fence's rail, picking out a sliver from the wood. "Where's Jekzith?" She asks after a pause.
"Guess there's no love lost between you and Illya then?" muses P'draig, one ankle crossing over the other as he tilts a look up at the clear blue, summer sky then back down as Lu plucks that sliver out of the fence. "Careful," he warns gently. "Jekzith's with Nalaieth," comes the Weyrlingmaster's straightforward explanation. "He was here earlier blowing bubbles for Azath, since she likes that. Jekzith and Azath are usually pretty friendly, but he won't chase her right now."
Lujayn smirks. "Nah. It doesn't help we hardly see one another, so there aren't opportunities to fix that. If I even wanted to." She's curious about that last comment, but decides now is not the time to ask. Pocketing the bit of wood, she grins. "I guess I'll steer clear of the bowl for the rest of the day, then. Plenty of other things to look over. Let me know how things turn out if you can." She pushes off from the fence and starts towards the main portion of the bowl, headed for the dormitories.
"Hmm. Now that's somethiing I might have to ask you about later," says P'draig with a teasing grin. "And ... steering clear's a good idea. As for letting you know ... sure. I'll be hanging out, well out of the way most likely, but Jekzith'll probably tell me, if he can pick his nose up long enough to bother." He waves as the runner heads off, waits a moment by the fence, eyeing a very glowy Azath for a moment, then pushes away, walking towards his office.