Log: Friendly T'mic, Proddy Aath
Who: Mic, S'fox, P'draig, T'rien
When: Summer evening on day 1, month 6, Turn 14, of the Interval.
Where: Fort's lake shore
What: Mic and Aath go visiting and find P'draig, S'fox and T'rien near Fort's lake. Aath is very flirty.
Fort Weyr Bowl, by the lake
This long stretch of the bowl lies to the southeast of the feeding grounds. At its western end, near the wall, the ground dips down slightly to where a lake has formed. Dragons are often washed there by their riders, and both riders and their dragons often swim in the cool waters.
The fenced off portion of the bowl for the Weyr's herds is to the northwest. To the north, a small structure built against the feeding ground pens serves as the Weyr's stables. Waves gently lap the shore to the west, and the rest of the bowl lies to the northeast.
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath extends a glittering 'hand' to the brown seconds before she emerges from *between*. No words announce her imminent arrival.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith is down on a ledge somewhere in a Bowl, apparently busily talking to another dragon but the hand is noticed and the brown extends his senses out towards it, for a mental 'handshake', his own sending all bright blue. << Hello there! >>
S'fox brushes a hand at his hair again, nose wrinkling still. "Doing'd be nice," he agrees with P'draig. "The flying and flaming, fighting Thread--I dunno, guess I didn't expect him to be so... needy, right from the get-go. Or that I'd be stuck in, well, like those harper lessons or something." He shrugs again, leaning a shoulder against Inorath's as he glances to P'draig. Of his dragon, "He's kind of like... my little brothers, my dad--a dad-type, anyway--, and me, all together. Creepy."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath lets the touch linger, a debutante encouraging her suitor. Then, << We are visiting, >> she declares coyly. << You could come visit me. >>
"Lots to learn yeah. And I think in the end, that's the biggest thing to get used to. Taking care of a dragon, sharing brainspace." P'draig looks Inorath over measuringly. "Looks like he's growing up beautifully." His eyes return to S'fox. "Any trouble with those lessons?" His last earns a soft chuckle. "Huh. That must take some adjusting to. Jekzith was ... just like a toddler. Still is like a little kid in a lot of ways. Never runs out of energy."
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith winds blue lightly around that touch. << Oh that's great! It'll be nice to see you. I'll be over in a little bit. Are you down near my rider? >> He focuses on physical vision, peering downwards from his perch.
Aath's dark green shape appears in the sky overhead, spiraling toward the eastern side of the bowl. A handful of dragonlengths above their path changes, and the green lands tidily on the lakeshore a short distance from the bathing bronze and his attendents. As she rumbles and ducks her head, the man on her back swings a leg over her side and slides down, ambling toward P'draig with hands in pockets and a grin on his face. "Ista's duties to Fort, Weyrlingmaster."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath is, showing the brown a diamond-studded flash of the lakeshore. << Don't get in my light, though. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith beams delight her way, bright blue crackling. << Oh I like the lake. I blow bubbles there. Your light? >>
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath flashes the scene again, with just a hint of edge in her words. << My light. The sunshine? >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith lifts off gently from that distant ledge, glides smoothly through the air, said sunlight catching at his motley hide, especially the bright maple of his wings. << How could anyone steal the sunshine from you? >>
"I'm better with toddlers," admits S'fox, head shaking. "Could handle my oldest brother when he was one. Don't know what to do when they get big--or like him." He jerks a thumb at Inorath, giving the bronze a look. As for his lessons? "Oh. Uh. Trouble? I'm... trying hard, anyway. My eight-year-old sister volunteered to tutor me in that whole reading and writing thing. Total ego-crusher," he admits sheepishly, lifting a hand in absent greeting to the new arrival. "Hey."
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath sparkles brightly, announcing her presence. After a moment she adds, << I am at the lakeshore. You could visit me. >>
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << I could, indeed. But mine would probably object to that. >>
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath turns coy again, would flutter eyelashes if she had them. << You are awfully nice to say so. >>
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Why would he have to know? >> All wide-eyed innocence. << Don't you want to visit me? >>
"Heh. Well, being able to handle a youngster's good eh?" S'fox' confession about reading and writing earns a symapthetic grin. "Let me know if you need a hand with any of that. It's not unusual for weyrlings, especially from the holds to need some extra lessons." Aath's arrival attracts P'draig's attention first, the Weyrlingmaster's weather eye on the green as she descends then he marks a grinning T'mic and his brows lift a little. T'mic. In a good mood and greeting him with a smile. Either Pern's changed her rotation on her axis or Aath's proddy. "Heya T'mic, Fort's duties to Ista," he says pleasantly.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << He would know because he is right in front of me. I would love to visit you, however. Perhaps in a moment I can slip away. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith isn't the flirtatious type and he takes the coy remark as a direct compliment. << Why thank you. I do try to be nice. Polite. Though sometimes P'draig tells me I talk too much. So what brings you to Fort today? You're looking particularly lovely. >>
Mic beams at P'draig a moment longer, then blinks and turns his attention to Inorath and S'fox. "Weyrling. Handsome bronze you've got there. So that's... Inorath, right?" The man rocks back onto his heels, hands stuck firmly into his pockets, and eyes just as firmly on the bronze.
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath's an imp. << Tell him you are hungry. >>
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << He was with me when I ate last - which was today, my dear. >>
Aath might be proddy, or she might not. Either way she greets Jekzith with another rumble, carefully settling herself down like a debutante adjusting her skirts.
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Well, tell him you are hungry again. >>
"Never really mattered before now," admits S'fox. "Still not sure exactly why I need it to go fight Thread, either, to be honest. Least I know my geography well enough--know where Gar is." Because someone's still bent a little out of shape over that. S'fox shrugs, though, and lets T'mic steal his attention, the weyrling blinking at the visitor. "Um. You think so? Thanks. Yeah, Inorath's right. I'm S'fox," he offers an introduction, ruffling the back of his hair as he looks from greenrider to his bronze and back.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << Lie to my lifemate?? >>
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath merely blinks wide innocent eyes. Do you want to visit her, or not?
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << Oh, all right... >>
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath immediately blesses the brown's acquiescence with her very best, most sparkly delight. << I knew you liked me! >>
"Actually that's not about fighting Thread per se, it's about getting along with people. Holders, Crafters and so on. And y'know, maybe being a wingleader. You're a bronzerider after all, or will be, S'fox. Might need to be able to hold your own someday against someone with a lot of education." P'draig laughs merrily at the reference to Gar. "Yeah well see, better to be at least more informed than an ignorant Harper right?" The Weyrlingmaster eyes the exchange between T'mic and S'fox with the faintest hint of amusement. "This is T'mic, green Aath's, S'fox. He assisted the Weyrlingmaster at Ista with their last clutch. We go ... way back." A briefly flashed grin for T'mic on that.
Jekzith warbles brightly as he splashes down in the lake, throwing up diamond glitters of sunset-laced water droplets.
T'rien follows his lifemate to the lakeshore, hands in his pockets and a look of tolerant amusement on his face. "Ah. Now I get it. Cavoth, you're very bad at dissembling." Cavoth affects a 'Who? Moi?' look and waddles over to flirt with Aath.
T'mic listens to the exchange about Gar with bland interest. He watches Inorath until Jekzith arrives - and then there's Cavoth, and Aath's looking particularly smug about something. The greenrider yanks his eyes off the approaching T'rien and back to S'fox, sliding P'draig a sideways grin. "Not as far back as we could. But yes, I'm Mic, that's Aath, and we were at his," a nod for the bronze, "Hatching. Congratulations, even if it's a bit late."
Aath> Jekzith and Cavoth sense that Aath arranges her wings Just So, adding a little flip for the browns' entertainment. << It was so awfully nice of you to come visit me, >> she purrs. << The browns at Ista are just so... so dull. But not here. >>
S'fox doesn't look very mollified by P'draig's words. "Yeah but... Rather just fly," he repeats, unenthusiastic about the prospects the weyrlingmaster offers. "Leave the... you know, all that stuff, the diplomacy and leading, to somebody else. S'not why I'm in this, not that he exactly gave me a lot of choice." He nods back at the bronze beside him, who isn't looking quite as interesting in Aath as the two browns, though he's still watching idly while he's scrubbed. "Thanks," S'fox tells T'mic, with a quick grin. "Better late than never, I guess."
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << You are, as always, lovely, sweet Aath. Your hide is practically 'glowing'. Have you just been oiled, perhaps? >>
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith and Cavoth with << So kind of you both to notice my hide! >> with an undercurrent of 'this old thing'. << I made T'mic wash every inch of me today, and then he oiled me, too. But... do you think maybe there's a dry patch? Would one of you come look? >>
Cavoth sidles over closer to the green dragon, his eyes whirling as he makes a visual inspection of her hide. He croons softly. T'rien rolls his eyes and covers them with a hand. "Oh, no you don't, Cav. We are not going to Ista any time soon. Definitely not."
"You and me both S'fox." P'draig nods S'fox' way and slides both hands into his pockets, shooting T'mic a sidelong look. "Yeah well, can't win 'em all." And he might not be talking about the greenrider given the sour bitterness in his tone, quickly swallowed. T'rien's approach is acknowledged with a hand lifted in a wave.
Dragon> Cavoth and Aath sense that Jekzith maintains a certain innocence. << Well you're a nice green. And they are? I usually have fun when we go to Ista. But I guess that can't be all the time. >> His head swings around to inspect Aath. << None that I can see. You look radiant in fact. >>
"Better to be known as a bronzerider who does stuff right rather than..." T'mic stops, tactfully, but jerks his head toward the north. He watches Cavoth approach Aath and adds, "Maybe not, but you have to at least try." Then louder, aimed at the green, "You -better- not have any dry patches! After all the time I spent on you this afternoon!?"
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath coos, << You could come a little closer, you know. Just don't get in my light. >>
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith with << Maybe you could study one side and Cavoth the other? >>
Grinning faintly at P'draig and T'mic both for their comments, S'fox nods and finishes up his scrubbing at Inorath, sloshing back to shore then. The bronze follows, moving to brush past his rider on the way to the barracks. "What?" S'fox answers some unvoiced comment. "No, you can't be hungry again. You'll get filthy--damn dragon," he decides with a resigned sigh. "I'll see you. Nice meeting you," that to P'draig and T'mic, as he trudges after the bronze.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith sends a blue sunburst of amusement her way. << Study? I should study your hide? I'd rather admire it. >>
T'rien moves his hand to cover his mouth, hiding his smile. "For Farant'hs sake, Cavoth," he murmurs, chuckling. He gives T'mic a sidelong look, then lifts his hand and waves as S'fox heads out with his young lifemate.
P'draig waves as S'fox heads in. "See you in the morning for laps, S'fox. A good night to you both. Enjoy the downtime before curfew." The Weyrlingmaster's gaze slews back towards T'mic and he chuckles softly. "Guess she puts you through your paces, huh T'mic?" The comment about trying twists his mouth though and he winds up looking out across the lake, frowning, thoughtful.
"G'night, S'fox," Mic says pleasantly, lifting a hand after the bronze weyrling and watching him go. It takes a second before P'draig's question registers; he looks at the Weyrlingmaster as if surprised to find him there. "Huh, what? Yeah, she did. Does. She was a handful - more than a handful - as a baby. Part of why I wanted to help Fadra, in case there were any others like her in the clutch." He crosses looks with T'rien. "--What?"
T'rien shakes his head, trying to look innocent. "Nothing. Nothing at all. How're you...feeling?"
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith with << Whatever. Just do it more closely. >> After a second she adds, softer, << Please. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith isn't quite sure what to make of that but there's a please attached and he sidles over through the water and dutifully admires from closer up. << Do you like to swim? >>
"Yeah? And a handful still. Like I was telling S'fox, Jekzith was one too, but not in the same way. More like an eternal toddler. Energetic. Non-stop. I can't ever really shut him out all the way." P'draig's blue eyes rest on T'mic for a moment, the smile threatening to break out on the corners of his mouth again, but then he turns back towards T'rien. "Hey Tri."
Aath hardly notices the baby bronze leave, not when she's got not one, but two (if Jekzith could be bothered to haul his butt out of the lake) grownup admirers. There's just a hint of brittleness to the green's actions, a bare indication of an edge to each tail flip and wing twitch.
T'rien lifts a hand to P'draig as he sidles closer. "Hey, Paddy. Nice night, eh?"
"Fine," Mic answers patiently. "Yourself and Cavoth? Hope you two don't mind a visit. Aath's been edgy today. I figured I'd get her out of Ista for one last visit before she gets proddy."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath does, or so she allows after a few moments of reflection. << But not right now. It would spoil my oiling. And if there is a dry spot, >> hint, hint, << why, it would just just awful. >>
"Sure is a nice night T'rien," remarks P'draig placidly enough, though there's a hint of edginess to him that isn't the proddy kind. "I think you missed the before part, T'mic, frankly. Jekith's as flirty as he's ever going to get." Bluntly spoken and the Weyrlingmaster eyes the dragons again with some amusement. Jekith's gotten out of the lake and is hanging around being mostly polite and exuberant.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith conveys disappointment through a graying out of his bright blues. << That's a shame. Lake's lovely right now. And if you have a dry spot sometimes the water can make it feel better. Or you know, you can always put more oil on. >>
T'rien mouths, "Before?" silently, glancing at Aath. He clears his throat, rubbing his eyes a bit wearily. "I think I need to get some sleep," he remarks. "Cavoth?" The brown emits a disappointed warble, giving Aath a longing look.
T'mic shoots a dark-eyed glare at P'draig but twists to give Aath a good looking-at. "She's not proddy, not yet. Can't be. I'd know - and I'd sure as shells keep her at home. She's just getting close, that's all. Just... close. Jekzith," and Cavoth, "likes her." Which is why she's acting like that. Honest. He does, after a thin-lipped moment, give T'rien a jerky nod. "Clear skies. Come visit Seliene, huh? Think she's getting edgy about Eileyth."
T'rien hmmms, his look growing concerned for a moment. "I will. Clear skies to you both." He glances up at his ledge, then back to Cavoth. "C'mon...you can flirt with her tonight," he murmurs.
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Flirt with who? >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Cavoth offers a mental image of a sleek, well-proportioned green dragon. << She is lifemate to the one my rider currently fancies. She is not as beautiful as you are, however. >>
P'draig snorts softly. "Actually, he's just being nice. He's pretty much weyrmated himself to another green. Jek's friendly." The Weyrlingmaster shrugs once. "If not full on, then yeah, close." He waves as T'rien heads off. "Rest well T'ri. See you tomorrow." His gae shifts back to T'mic. "Yeah I guess Eileyth's about getting to that age right?"
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath is not happy. Not at all. Even with the compliment, her reply is sharp, biting, pointed. << Well. If you'd rather spend time with her. >> And she snaps the connection closed.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << I would not. Mine would rather spend time with her. >>
With the removal of the others, Mic's free to concentrate on just one man. Person. Turning from the question of Aath's dubious proddiness to face P'draig, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and looks up into Paddy's face. "Too many 'he's, not enough names. Who's being nice even though he's weyrmated? T'rien?"
"Jekzith," corrects P'draig, giving T'mic another amused look. "Not that it's the closed kind of weyrmating anyway, but he's made his choice." The Weyrlingmaster rocks back on his heels a little, arms lifting to fold across his chest, the breeze ruffling his hair a little.
"Jekzith's weyrmated?" Mic repeats incredulously, eyeing the brown in question over his shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean? C'mon, P'draig, you know well as I do that dragons don't think that way. A green goes up, males are going to chase her. --Assuming their rider lets them, of course."
"Sure they do. More common among bronzes and golds of course, but it happens sometimes that a brown or a blue and a green form a connection an that's what Jek's got with Azath. Doesn't mean he's not going to be interested when a green rises, but it's her he's going home to." P'draig tilts a look over at said brown. "That's why he's being nice. Not that he really knows how to flirt anyway."
"All right, some bronzes and golds," the greenrider admits after a second. "But a green?" Of course, his experience with greens is somewhat... limited. "Even Aath - she likes Sulizath well enough, but she'll make eyes at any blue or bronze who crosses her path. And she sure wouldn't want to share a ledge with him."
"It's about who you go home to, T'mic, rather than whether you flirt or not. I mean I've been weyrmated twice and I didn't stop flirting." Paddy casts Mic an easy grin and eyes Jekzith for a moment, then walks over to him and thumps his side. "C'mon you. Let's get your straps on. We're headed your way actually T'mic if you'd like company back to Ista."
T'mic spins on a heel and follows after, amusedly resigned. "This a polite way of sending the proddy green back home? Sure, why not. Come on, baby," he adds to Aath, who is throwing a very dark look P'draig's way. "You can show Jekzith your wings, and maybe you can make Sulizath jealous." That's got the green's attention: she swiftly regains her feet.
"Actually, no. I've got a pretty girl to visit," replies P'draig quietly, face thoughtful instead of open and teasing. "Hope it'll be an easy flight for you anyway." Giving a little wave, Paddy heads off towards his weyr, Jekzith giving a soft croon of farewell as he lifts off and makes the short hop that way for his rider to strap him up. A few minutes later, they're lifting off into the sky to hover just above the Bowl, sunset limning Jekzith's maple wings with rosy fire.
When Mic says, "Rub it in," there's a bite under the laugh. That's the last he says to the other man until he and his darling are aloft, circling and waiting for the brown to join them.
When: Summer evening on day 1, month 6, Turn 14, of the Interval.
Where: Fort's lake shore
What: Mic and Aath go visiting and find P'draig, S'fox and T'rien near Fort's lake. Aath is very flirty.
Fort Weyr Bowl, by the lake
This long stretch of the bowl lies to the southeast of the feeding grounds. At its western end, near the wall, the ground dips down slightly to where a lake has formed. Dragons are often washed there by their riders, and both riders and their dragons often swim in the cool waters.
The fenced off portion of the bowl for the Weyr's herds is to the northwest. To the north, a small structure built against the feeding ground pens serves as the Weyr's stables. Waves gently lap the shore to the west, and the rest of the bowl lies to the northeast.
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath extends a glittering 'hand' to the brown seconds before she emerges from *between*. No words announce her imminent arrival.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith is down on a ledge somewhere in a Bowl, apparently busily talking to another dragon but the hand is noticed and the brown extends his senses out towards it, for a mental 'handshake', his own sending all bright blue. << Hello there! >>
S'fox brushes a hand at his hair again, nose wrinkling still. "Doing'd be nice," he agrees with P'draig. "The flying and flaming, fighting Thread--I dunno, guess I didn't expect him to be so... needy, right from the get-go. Or that I'd be stuck in, well, like those harper lessons or something." He shrugs again, leaning a shoulder against Inorath's as he glances to P'draig. Of his dragon, "He's kind of like... my little brothers, my dad--a dad-type, anyway--, and me, all together. Creepy."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath lets the touch linger, a debutante encouraging her suitor. Then, << We are visiting, >> she declares coyly. << You could come visit me. >>
"Lots to learn yeah. And I think in the end, that's the biggest thing to get used to. Taking care of a dragon, sharing brainspace." P'draig looks Inorath over measuringly. "Looks like he's growing up beautifully." His eyes return to S'fox. "Any trouble with those lessons?" His last earns a soft chuckle. "Huh. That must take some adjusting to. Jekzith was ... just like a toddler. Still is like a little kid in a lot of ways. Never runs out of energy."
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith winds blue lightly around that touch. << Oh that's great! It'll be nice to see you. I'll be over in a little bit. Are you down near my rider? >> He focuses on physical vision, peering downwards from his perch.
Aath's dark green shape appears in the sky overhead, spiraling toward the eastern side of the bowl. A handful of dragonlengths above their path changes, and the green lands tidily on the lakeshore a short distance from the bathing bronze and his attendents. As she rumbles and ducks her head, the man on her back swings a leg over her side and slides down, ambling toward P'draig with hands in pockets and a grin on his face. "Ista's duties to Fort, Weyrlingmaster."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath is, showing the brown a diamond-studded flash of the lakeshore. << Don't get in my light, though. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith beams delight her way, bright blue crackling. << Oh I like the lake. I blow bubbles there. Your light? >>
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath flashes the scene again, with just a hint of edge in her words. << My light. The sunshine? >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith lifts off gently from that distant ledge, glides smoothly through the air, said sunlight catching at his motley hide, especially the bright maple of his wings. << How could anyone steal the sunshine from you? >>
"I'm better with toddlers," admits S'fox, head shaking. "Could handle my oldest brother when he was one. Don't know what to do when they get big--or like him." He jerks a thumb at Inorath, giving the bronze a look. As for his lessons? "Oh. Uh. Trouble? I'm... trying hard, anyway. My eight-year-old sister volunteered to tutor me in that whole reading and writing thing. Total ego-crusher," he admits sheepishly, lifting a hand in absent greeting to the new arrival. "Hey."
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath sparkles brightly, announcing her presence. After a moment she adds, << I am at the lakeshore. You could visit me. >>
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << I could, indeed. But mine would probably object to that. >>
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath turns coy again, would flutter eyelashes if she had them. << You are awfully nice to say so. >>
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Why would he have to know? >> All wide-eyed innocence. << Don't you want to visit me? >>
"Heh. Well, being able to handle a youngster's good eh?" S'fox' confession about reading and writing earns a symapthetic grin. "Let me know if you need a hand with any of that. It's not unusual for weyrlings, especially from the holds to need some extra lessons." Aath's arrival attracts P'draig's attention first, the Weyrlingmaster's weather eye on the green as she descends then he marks a grinning T'mic and his brows lift a little. T'mic. In a good mood and greeting him with a smile. Either Pern's changed her rotation on her axis or Aath's proddy. "Heya T'mic, Fort's duties to Ista," he says pleasantly.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << He would know because he is right in front of me. I would love to visit you, however. Perhaps in a moment I can slip away. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith isn't the flirtatious type and he takes the coy remark as a direct compliment. << Why thank you. I do try to be nice. Polite. Though sometimes P'draig tells me I talk too much. So what brings you to Fort today? You're looking particularly lovely. >>
Mic beams at P'draig a moment longer, then blinks and turns his attention to Inorath and S'fox. "Weyrling. Handsome bronze you've got there. So that's... Inorath, right?" The man rocks back onto his heels, hands stuck firmly into his pockets, and eyes just as firmly on the bronze.
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath's an imp. << Tell him you are hungry. >>
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << He was with me when I ate last - which was today, my dear. >>
Aath might be proddy, or she might not. Either way she greets Jekzith with another rumble, carefully settling herself down like a debutante adjusting her skirts.
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Well, tell him you are hungry again. >>
"Never really mattered before now," admits S'fox. "Still not sure exactly why I need it to go fight Thread, either, to be honest. Least I know my geography well enough--know where Gar is." Because someone's still bent a little out of shape over that. S'fox shrugs, though, and lets T'mic steal his attention, the weyrling blinking at the visitor. "Um. You think so? Thanks. Yeah, Inorath's right. I'm S'fox," he offers an introduction, ruffling the back of his hair as he looks from greenrider to his bronze and back.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << Lie to my lifemate?? >>
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath merely blinks wide innocent eyes. Do you want to visit her, or not?
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << Oh, all right... >>
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath immediately blesses the brown's acquiescence with her very best, most sparkly delight. << I knew you liked me! >>
"Actually that's not about fighting Thread per se, it's about getting along with people. Holders, Crafters and so on. And y'know, maybe being a wingleader. You're a bronzerider after all, or will be, S'fox. Might need to be able to hold your own someday against someone with a lot of education." P'draig laughs merrily at the reference to Gar. "Yeah well see, better to be at least more informed than an ignorant Harper right?" The Weyrlingmaster eyes the exchange between T'mic and S'fox with the faintest hint of amusement. "This is T'mic, green Aath's, S'fox. He assisted the Weyrlingmaster at Ista with their last clutch. We go ... way back." A briefly flashed grin for T'mic on that.
Jekzith warbles brightly as he splashes down in the lake, throwing up diamond glitters of sunset-laced water droplets.
T'rien follows his lifemate to the lakeshore, hands in his pockets and a look of tolerant amusement on his face. "Ah. Now I get it. Cavoth, you're very bad at dissembling." Cavoth affects a 'Who? Moi?' look and waddles over to flirt with Aath.
T'mic listens to the exchange about Gar with bland interest. He watches Inorath until Jekzith arrives - and then there's Cavoth, and Aath's looking particularly smug about something. The greenrider yanks his eyes off the approaching T'rien and back to S'fox, sliding P'draig a sideways grin. "Not as far back as we could. But yes, I'm Mic, that's Aath, and we were at his," a nod for the bronze, "Hatching. Congratulations, even if it's a bit late."
Aath> Jekzith and Cavoth sense that Aath arranges her wings Just So, adding a little flip for the browns' entertainment. << It was so awfully nice of you to come visit me, >> she purrs. << The browns at Ista are just so... so dull. But not here. >>
S'fox doesn't look very mollified by P'draig's words. "Yeah but... Rather just fly," he repeats, unenthusiastic about the prospects the weyrlingmaster offers. "Leave the... you know, all that stuff, the diplomacy and leading, to somebody else. S'not why I'm in this, not that he exactly gave me a lot of choice." He nods back at the bronze beside him, who isn't looking quite as interesting in Aath as the two browns, though he's still watching idly while he's scrubbed. "Thanks," S'fox tells T'mic, with a quick grin. "Better late than never, I guess."
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << You are, as always, lovely, sweet Aath. Your hide is practically 'glowing'. Have you just been oiled, perhaps? >>
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith and Cavoth with << So kind of you both to notice my hide! >> with an undercurrent of 'this old thing'. << I made T'mic wash every inch of me today, and then he oiled me, too. But... do you think maybe there's a dry patch? Would one of you come look? >>
Cavoth sidles over closer to the green dragon, his eyes whirling as he makes a visual inspection of her hide. He croons softly. T'rien rolls his eyes and covers them with a hand. "Oh, no you don't, Cav. We are not going to Ista any time soon. Definitely not."
"You and me both S'fox." P'draig nods S'fox' way and slides both hands into his pockets, shooting T'mic a sidelong look. "Yeah well, can't win 'em all." And he might not be talking about the greenrider given the sour bitterness in his tone, quickly swallowed. T'rien's approach is acknowledged with a hand lifted in a wave.
Dragon> Cavoth and Aath sense that Jekzith maintains a certain innocence. << Well you're a nice green. And they are? I usually have fun when we go to Ista. But I guess that can't be all the time. >> His head swings around to inspect Aath. << None that I can see. You look radiant in fact. >>
"Better to be known as a bronzerider who does stuff right rather than..." T'mic stops, tactfully, but jerks his head toward the north. He watches Cavoth approach Aath and adds, "Maybe not, but you have to at least try." Then louder, aimed at the green, "You -better- not have any dry patches! After all the time I spent on you this afternoon!?"
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath coos, << You could come a little closer, you know. Just don't get in my light. >>
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith with << Maybe you could study one side and Cavoth the other? >>
Grinning faintly at P'draig and T'mic both for their comments, S'fox nods and finishes up his scrubbing at Inorath, sloshing back to shore then. The bronze follows, moving to brush past his rider on the way to the barracks. "What?" S'fox answers some unvoiced comment. "No, you can't be hungry again. You'll get filthy--damn dragon," he decides with a resigned sigh. "I'll see you. Nice meeting you," that to P'draig and T'mic, as he trudges after the bronze.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith sends a blue sunburst of amusement her way. << Study? I should study your hide? I'd rather admire it. >>
T'rien moves his hand to cover his mouth, hiding his smile. "For Farant'hs sake, Cavoth," he murmurs, chuckling. He gives T'mic a sidelong look, then lifts his hand and waves as S'fox heads out with his young lifemate.
P'draig waves as S'fox heads in. "See you in the morning for laps, S'fox. A good night to you both. Enjoy the downtime before curfew." The Weyrlingmaster's gaze slews back towards T'mic and he chuckles softly. "Guess she puts you through your paces, huh T'mic?" The comment about trying twists his mouth though and he winds up looking out across the lake, frowning, thoughtful.
"G'night, S'fox," Mic says pleasantly, lifting a hand after the bronze weyrling and watching him go. It takes a second before P'draig's question registers; he looks at the Weyrlingmaster as if surprised to find him there. "Huh, what? Yeah, she did. Does. She was a handful - more than a handful - as a baby. Part of why I wanted to help Fadra, in case there were any others like her in the clutch." He crosses looks with T'rien. "--What?"
T'rien shakes his head, trying to look innocent. "Nothing. Nothing at all. How're you...feeling?"
Aath> I bespoke Jekzith with << Whatever. Just do it more closely. >> After a second she adds, softer, << Please. >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith isn't quite sure what to make of that but there's a please attached and he sidles over through the water and dutifully admires from closer up. << Do you like to swim? >>
"Yeah? And a handful still. Like I was telling S'fox, Jekzith was one too, but not in the same way. More like an eternal toddler. Energetic. Non-stop. I can't ever really shut him out all the way." P'draig's blue eyes rest on T'mic for a moment, the smile threatening to break out on the corners of his mouth again, but then he turns back towards T'rien. "Hey Tri."
Aath hardly notices the baby bronze leave, not when she's got not one, but two (if Jekzith could be bothered to haul his butt out of the lake) grownup admirers. There's just a hint of brittleness to the green's actions, a bare indication of an edge to each tail flip and wing twitch.
T'rien lifts a hand to P'draig as he sidles closer. "Hey, Paddy. Nice night, eh?"
"Fine," Mic answers patiently. "Yourself and Cavoth? Hope you two don't mind a visit. Aath's been edgy today. I figured I'd get her out of Ista for one last visit before she gets proddy."
Aath> Jekzith senses that Aath does, or so she allows after a few moments of reflection. << But not right now. It would spoil my oiling. And if there is a dry spot, >> hint, hint, << why, it would just just awful. >>
"Sure is a nice night T'rien," remarks P'draig placidly enough, though there's a hint of edginess to him that isn't the proddy kind. "I think you missed the before part, T'mic, frankly. Jekith's as flirty as he's ever going to get." Bluntly spoken and the Weyrlingmaster eyes the dragons again with some amusement. Jekith's gotten out of the lake and is hanging around being mostly polite and exuberant.
Dragon> Aath senses that Jekzith conveys disappointment through a graying out of his bright blues. << That's a shame. Lake's lovely right now. And if you have a dry spot sometimes the water can make it feel better. Or you know, you can always put more oil on. >>
T'rien mouths, "Before?" silently, glancing at Aath. He clears his throat, rubbing his eyes a bit wearily. "I think I need to get some sleep," he remarks. "Cavoth?" The brown emits a disappointed warble, giving Aath a longing look.
T'mic shoots a dark-eyed glare at P'draig but twists to give Aath a good looking-at. "She's not proddy, not yet. Can't be. I'd know - and I'd sure as shells keep her at home. She's just getting close, that's all. Just... close. Jekzith," and Cavoth, "likes her." Which is why she's acting like that. Honest. He does, after a thin-lipped moment, give T'rien a jerky nod. "Clear skies. Come visit Seliene, huh? Think she's getting edgy about Eileyth."
T'rien hmmms, his look growing concerned for a moment. "I will. Clear skies to you both." He glances up at his ledge, then back to Cavoth. "C'mon...you can flirt with her tonight," he murmurs.
Aath> I bespoke Cavoth with << Flirt with who? >>
Dragon> Aath senses that Cavoth offers a mental image of a sleek, well-proportioned green dragon. << She is lifemate to the one my rider currently fancies. She is not as beautiful as you are, however. >>
P'draig snorts softly. "Actually, he's just being nice. He's pretty much weyrmated himself to another green. Jek's friendly." The Weyrlingmaster shrugs once. "If not full on, then yeah, close." He waves as T'rien heads off. "Rest well T'ri. See you tomorrow." His gae shifts back to T'mic. "Yeah I guess Eileyth's about getting to that age right?"
Aath> Cavoth senses that Aath is not happy. Not at all. Even with the compliment, her reply is sharp, biting, pointed. << Well. If you'd rather spend time with her. >> And she snaps the connection closed.
Dragon> Cavoth bespoke Aath with << I would not. Mine would rather spend time with her. >>
With the removal of the others, Mic's free to concentrate on just one man. Person. Turning from the question of Aath's dubious proddiness to face P'draig, he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and looks up into Paddy's face. "Too many 'he's, not enough names. Who's being nice even though he's weyrmated? T'rien?"
"Jekzith," corrects P'draig, giving T'mic another amused look. "Not that it's the closed kind of weyrmating anyway, but he's made his choice." The Weyrlingmaster rocks back on his heels a little, arms lifting to fold across his chest, the breeze ruffling his hair a little.
"Jekzith's weyrmated?" Mic repeats incredulously, eyeing the brown in question over his shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean? C'mon, P'draig, you know well as I do that dragons don't think that way. A green goes up, males are going to chase her. --Assuming their rider lets them, of course."
"Sure they do. More common among bronzes and golds of course, but it happens sometimes that a brown or a blue and a green form a connection an that's what Jek's got with Azath. Doesn't mean he's not going to be interested when a green rises, but it's her he's going home to." P'draig tilts a look over at said brown. "That's why he's being nice. Not that he really knows how to flirt anyway."
"All right, some bronzes and golds," the greenrider admits after a second. "But a green?" Of course, his experience with greens is somewhat... limited. "Even Aath - she likes Sulizath well enough, but she'll make eyes at any blue or bronze who crosses her path. And she sure wouldn't want to share a ledge with him."
"It's about who you go home to, T'mic, rather than whether you flirt or not. I mean I've been weyrmated twice and I didn't stop flirting." Paddy casts Mic an easy grin and eyes Jekzith for a moment, then walks over to him and thumps his side. "C'mon you. Let's get your straps on. We're headed your way actually T'mic if you'd like company back to Ista."
T'mic spins on a heel and follows after, amusedly resigned. "This a polite way of sending the proddy green back home? Sure, why not. Come on, baby," he adds to Aath, who is throwing a very dark look P'draig's way. "You can show Jekzith your wings, and maybe you can make Sulizath jealous." That's got the green's attention: she swiftly regains her feet.
"Actually, no. I've got a pretty girl to visit," replies P'draig quietly, face thoughtful instead of open and teasing. "Hope it'll be an easy flight for you anyway." Giving a little wave, Paddy heads off towards his weyr, Jekzith giving a soft croon of farewell as he lifts off and makes the short hop that way for his rider to strap him up. A few minutes later, they're lifting off into the sky to hover just above the Bowl, sunset limning Jekzith's maple wings with rosy fire.
When Mic says, "Rub it in," there's a bite under the laugh. That's the last he says to the other man until he and his darling are aloft, circling and waiting for the brown to join them.