Log: Happy Times with Secath
RL: March 28, 2008.
VR: Day 27, month 10, Turn 15, of the Interval. It is a autumn afternoon.
Two little green ducklings copy Mama Duck.
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr (#565RIJas)
This shoreline marks the edge of the freshwater lake that fills the southeastern portion of the bowl. The gritty dirt of the bowl gives way to smooth sand. Dragons love to dive and bathe within the lake's deep waters, enticing their riders to join them for some play; a chilly but refreshing experience. Firelizards frolic above the clear surface, hunting for the small fish that are kept well stocked.
Across the lake, the bowl wall rises high into the sky, its face dotted with weyr entrances. A few dragonlengths above the water, glimpses of a level cliff can be seen amidst boulders lining the edge. Just south of here, a smaller pond of water is divided from the main lake by a natural bridge of land. A path leads across the bridge and up to the diving cliffs, winding through a dotting of small boulders on its way.
The wind has so often cut strongly across the bowl as High Reaches descends into autumn, but though it's cloudy today, the wind is gentler and only teases the lake's surface in little ripples. With chores done and no lectures for the afternoon, it's a good time for weyrlings to play. Which Vrianth does, chasing Ishawith and Hroxeth around and around and merrily being chased back again, as their human counterparts stand well out of the way. At least, until the dragons bound their way again. Which they always do.
"Don't get on my case about it," Persie says as she and Secath draw over from the bowl. "No, it's not like that all. You don't know what you're talking about. Wait, what were we coming out here for?" she asks, coming to a stop. The green lifts her chin as if she's rolling her eyes up to the sky. "Right!" Both of their eyes cast around for weyrlings, which doesn't take long. "Hey guys," Persie greets with a cheery wave.
Which means that the dragons all bound over to Secath, first Ishawith who's currently in the lead and then the others, all bright-eyed and wiggly-tailed. It's enough to get their red-cheeked riders laughing, starting to follow the dragons, at least until Hroxeth forgets something very important and poor E'dro has to go get the shovel and clean it up... at which point Rhonda and Leova hold their noses and laugh even more.
And, as a whole herd of clumsy little dragon come barreling at her, Secath's reaction is to make a great leap, snap her wings open and glide over to the lakeshore where she might land without getting trampled--in theory. Persie, less quick thinking than Secath, just screeches and runs toward the weyrlings. By the time she gets there, clinging to Leova's shoulders for protection, the weyrlings are laughing and the smell hits Persie. "Oh!" she says, putting a hand over her nose and mouth so that syllable comes out muffled.
The young greens, at least, manage a ragged turn and they hurry after Secath, bounding and flapping but not nearly with enough focused effort to get any airtime. Though their clutchmate makes an abortive effort to do the same, he can't match their turns even now, and besides, E'dro isn't about to leave Hroxeth to his own devices. If E'dro has to get the shovel, Hroxeth has to come too. "Sor-RY!" the boy yells as he trudges, and the girls laugh some more, quite as though their dragons hadn't done the same thing before too. Leova looks over her shoulder at her impromptu backpack, "Think it's safe now. Hope so!" She adds in a mutter, "So long as nobody steps in it." Now Rhonda's outright giggling.
"It's ok," Persie calls from behind her hand and behind Leova to the apologetic and shoveling weyrling. But since the coast is somewhat more clear, she sneaks out. "Well, that was dignified of me, huh? How are you guys doing?" She runs her fingers through her hair, giving it a purposely nonchalant little toss. Secanth, meanwhile, keeps her wings half-spread as a warning for the younger dragons to stop before they slam into her.
E'dro's shoulders slump as he keeps trudging. Not that he's been mooning after his cheery blonde assistant weyrlingmaster. Definitely not. Not him. Not at all. And Rhonda's not snickering either. Much. "Good," she says. "Good," says Leova. They're laughing again, but trying to stop, and Rhonda reaches up to touch her hair too. "You?" Leova adds, without glancing over her shoulder at Vrianth, who keeps bounding towards Secath only to veer off at the last moment. Ishawith had slowed. Ishawith is even crouched, now, and looking around for approval.
There's a lot to take in and that leaves Persie... flustered to say the least. "Uh. What.. uh, what's going on?" she gets out, looking from weyrling to weyrling to weyrling to dragon to well, so on and so forth. "Is E'dro alright?" Secath is less flustered, more irritated. << What do you want? >> Very much the big sister who -so- wasn't planning on playing with the little kids today. She glances down the lake to see if that handsome blue is watching at all.
"Nothing," says Rhonda. "Nothing," repeats Leova. "He's just embarrassed," says Rhonda. "He's fine," says Leova simultaneously. The remaining weyrling dragons aren't looking at Persie at all. They're staring at Secath. Ishawith had big eyes already, but now they're big worried eyes to go with her droopy tail. Even Vrianth, who wheeled around and slowed and stopped, is holding her wings lower than usual. << To play, >> she says, still somewhat hopeful, a little bit resigned.
Secath's fussy lift of wings starts to wane. << Play... what? >> And maybe she's a bit less grouchy with this question--wary, but not grouchy. That wariness must be catching because Persie has her head turned to give Rhonda and Leova a sidelong look. "Nothing?" And belated. "I'm good. I think."
"You think?" Rhonda asks even as Leova says, "Good." She gives Rhonda a look that doesn't faze the littler greenrider in the slightest, now that Ishawith's starting to feel just a little perkier. Meanwhile, as long as the humans don't seem to be paying any attention to them, Vrianth suggests to Secath, << What you did. >> She gives the other two a slow-mo recap of Secath leaping, flapping, gliding that has Secath limned in admiring light. Mighty Secath!
<< Oh. >> That chill, raspy voice has a tight uncertainty to it, and Secath looks over the eager little dragons toward the riders who... aren't really paying attention. << Can you do that? >> she wonders, spreading her wings a bit wider. "Well now what happens?" Persie wonders, slipping her hands into her pockets and rocking onto her heels.
Ishawith can! Or at least, she can flap her wings a lot, though the angle's not quite right and it needs more of a jump, too. Then she jumps without the flapping. Vrianth's slower to reply, << If you show us, >> with another pulse of genuine admiration for Secath, who knows what she wants to know. And yet, her thoughts are reaching out very delicately, trying to track the source of that tightness without being detected. Very carefully. No too-sudden movements. She's better at concealing her idea from Leova now, too, or maybe it's that Leova's more used to Vrianth getting... ideas. "Hope not rain," Leova says, and Rhonda makes a face too. "Did Fort have a lot of rain too?" E'dro's returning with the shovel, getting to work. Downwind, at least until the wind changes.
In order to notice or react to Vrianth's prying, Secath would have to care. Instead she measure the lack of attention from the humans one more time and the leaps up again, fanning out her wings to move farther down the lakeshore. << Did you see that? >> Because it seems that Secath doesn't quite no how to explain something that she now does without thinking. "Well it rains everywhere, doesn't it? Except Igen, I guess. It rains a lot ot Ista. I suppose it's not cold rain there, though..." Persie just rocks back and forth with a quick eye for the dragons that doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
When Secath leaps, Vrianth gets distracted from her more subtle investigations to drink in every sensation she can pick up. Secath's wings may be shorter in relation to her body, and of course there's the relative size issue and others, but it's enough to go by. Or so Vrianth thinks. And she shares with Ishawith, but not before trying out that leap-fan-glide /first/. Which doesn't get her far, but still the triumph she immediately projects to lifemate, Secath, Ishawith, and pretty much everyone else in the vicinity gives Leova a sudden grin. Which doesn't match the rain talk at all. Which doesn't distract Rhonda from making wistful noises about Igen and then talking about Milani's friend at Ista, anyway, while Leova herself settles for the idea that maybe small talk about the weather with the other two really is great fun after all. But then Rhonda goes on about something else, and then they have to get Persie's opinion on it, which reminds Leova about something different, and on and on... while two delighted little greens follow their bigger green leader in fluttering hop-fan-glides all down the shore. Happy times!
VR: Day 27, month 10, Turn 15, of the Interval. It is a autumn afternoon.
Two little green ducklings copy Mama Duck.
Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr (#565RIJas)
This shoreline marks the edge of the freshwater lake that fills the southeastern portion of the bowl. The gritty dirt of the bowl gives way to smooth sand. Dragons love to dive and bathe within the lake's deep waters, enticing their riders to join them for some play; a chilly but refreshing experience. Firelizards frolic above the clear surface, hunting for the small fish that are kept well stocked.
Across the lake, the bowl wall rises high into the sky, its face dotted with weyr entrances. A few dragonlengths above the water, glimpses of a level cliff can be seen amidst boulders lining the edge. Just south of here, a smaller pond of water is divided from the main lake by a natural bridge of land. A path leads across the bridge and up to the diving cliffs, winding through a dotting of small boulders on its way.
The wind has so often cut strongly across the bowl as High Reaches descends into autumn, but though it's cloudy today, the wind is gentler and only teases the lake's surface in little ripples. With chores done and no lectures for the afternoon, it's a good time for weyrlings to play. Which Vrianth does, chasing Ishawith and Hroxeth around and around and merrily being chased back again, as their human counterparts stand well out of the way. At least, until the dragons bound their way again. Which they always do.
"Don't get on my case about it," Persie says as she and Secath draw over from the bowl. "No, it's not like that all. You don't know what you're talking about. Wait, what were we coming out here for?" she asks, coming to a stop. The green lifts her chin as if she's rolling her eyes up to the sky. "Right!" Both of their eyes cast around for weyrlings, which doesn't take long. "Hey guys," Persie greets with a cheery wave.
Which means that the dragons all bound over to Secath, first Ishawith who's currently in the lead and then the others, all bright-eyed and wiggly-tailed. It's enough to get their red-cheeked riders laughing, starting to follow the dragons, at least until Hroxeth forgets something very important and poor E'dro has to go get the shovel and clean it up... at which point Rhonda and Leova hold their noses and laugh even more.
And, as a whole herd of clumsy little dragon come barreling at her, Secath's reaction is to make a great leap, snap her wings open and glide over to the lakeshore where she might land without getting trampled--in theory. Persie, less quick thinking than Secath, just screeches and runs toward the weyrlings. By the time she gets there, clinging to Leova's shoulders for protection, the weyrlings are laughing and the smell hits Persie. "Oh!" she says, putting a hand over her nose and mouth so that syllable comes out muffled.
The young greens, at least, manage a ragged turn and they hurry after Secath, bounding and flapping but not nearly with enough focused effort to get any airtime. Though their clutchmate makes an abortive effort to do the same, he can't match their turns even now, and besides, E'dro isn't about to leave Hroxeth to his own devices. If E'dro has to get the shovel, Hroxeth has to come too. "Sor-RY!" the boy yells as he trudges, and the girls laugh some more, quite as though their dragons hadn't done the same thing before too. Leova looks over her shoulder at her impromptu backpack, "Think it's safe now. Hope so!" She adds in a mutter, "So long as nobody steps in it." Now Rhonda's outright giggling.
"It's ok," Persie calls from behind her hand and behind Leova to the apologetic and shoveling weyrling. But since the coast is somewhat more clear, she sneaks out. "Well, that was dignified of me, huh? How are you guys doing?" She runs her fingers through her hair, giving it a purposely nonchalant little toss. Secanth, meanwhile, keeps her wings half-spread as a warning for the younger dragons to stop before they slam into her.
E'dro's shoulders slump as he keeps trudging. Not that he's been mooning after his cheery blonde assistant weyrlingmaster. Definitely not. Not him. Not at all. And Rhonda's not snickering either. Much. "Good," she says. "Good," says Leova. They're laughing again, but trying to stop, and Rhonda reaches up to touch her hair too. "You?" Leova adds, without glancing over her shoulder at Vrianth, who keeps bounding towards Secath only to veer off at the last moment. Ishawith had slowed. Ishawith is even crouched, now, and looking around for approval.
There's a lot to take in and that leaves Persie... flustered to say the least. "Uh. What.. uh, what's going on?" she gets out, looking from weyrling to weyrling to weyrling to dragon to well, so on and so forth. "Is E'dro alright?" Secath is less flustered, more irritated. << What do you want? >> Very much the big sister who -so- wasn't planning on playing with the little kids today. She glances down the lake to see if that handsome blue is watching at all.
"Nothing," says Rhonda. "Nothing," repeats Leova. "He's just embarrassed," says Rhonda. "He's fine," says Leova simultaneously. The remaining weyrling dragons aren't looking at Persie at all. They're staring at Secath. Ishawith had big eyes already, but now they're big worried eyes to go with her droopy tail. Even Vrianth, who wheeled around and slowed and stopped, is holding her wings lower than usual. << To play, >> she says, still somewhat hopeful, a little bit resigned.
Secath's fussy lift of wings starts to wane. << Play... what? >> And maybe she's a bit less grouchy with this question--wary, but not grouchy. That wariness must be catching because Persie has her head turned to give Rhonda and Leova a sidelong look. "Nothing?" And belated. "I'm good. I think."
"You think?" Rhonda asks even as Leova says, "Good." She gives Rhonda a look that doesn't faze the littler greenrider in the slightest, now that Ishawith's starting to feel just a little perkier. Meanwhile, as long as the humans don't seem to be paying any attention to them, Vrianth suggests to Secath, << What you did. >> She gives the other two a slow-mo recap of Secath leaping, flapping, gliding that has Secath limned in admiring light. Mighty Secath!
<< Oh. >> That chill, raspy voice has a tight uncertainty to it, and Secath looks over the eager little dragons toward the riders who... aren't really paying attention. << Can you do that? >> she wonders, spreading her wings a bit wider. "Well now what happens?" Persie wonders, slipping her hands into her pockets and rocking onto her heels.
Ishawith can! Or at least, she can flap her wings a lot, though the angle's not quite right and it needs more of a jump, too. Then she jumps without the flapping. Vrianth's slower to reply, << If you show us, >> with another pulse of genuine admiration for Secath, who knows what she wants to know. And yet, her thoughts are reaching out very delicately, trying to track the source of that tightness without being detected. Very carefully. No too-sudden movements. She's better at concealing her idea from Leova now, too, or maybe it's that Leova's more used to Vrianth getting... ideas. "Hope not rain," Leova says, and Rhonda makes a face too. "Did Fort have a lot of rain too?" E'dro's returning with the shovel, getting to work. Downwind, at least until the wind changes.
In order to notice or react to Vrianth's prying, Secath would have to care. Instead she measure the lack of attention from the humans one more time and the leaps up again, fanning out her wings to move farther down the lakeshore. << Did you see that? >> Because it seems that Secath doesn't quite no how to explain something that she now does without thinking. "Well it rains everywhere, doesn't it? Except Igen, I guess. It rains a lot ot Ista. I suppose it's not cold rain there, though..." Persie just rocks back and forth with a quick eye for the dragons that doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.
When Secath leaps, Vrianth gets distracted from her more subtle investigations to drink in every sensation she can pick up. Secath's wings may be shorter in relation to her body, and of course there's the relative size issue and others, but it's enough to go by. Or so Vrianth thinks. And she shares with Ishawith, but not before trying out that leap-fan-glide /first/. Which doesn't get her far, but still the triumph she immediately projects to lifemate, Secath, Ishawith, and pretty much everyone else in the vicinity gives Leova a sudden grin. Which doesn't match the rain talk at all. Which doesn't distract Rhonda from making wistful noises about Igen and then talking about Milani's friend at Ista, anyway, while Leova herself settles for the idea that maybe small talk about the weather with the other two really is great fun after all. But then Rhonda goes on about something else, and then they have to get Persie's opinion on it, which reminds Leova about something different, and on and on... while two delighted little greens follow their bigger green leader in fluttering hop-fan-glides all down the shore. Happy times!