Of splashing in the pool: Nalaieth, Marsath, and Cansoth find water
Weyrling Barracks
H'rel, Cynara, G'tive, Nolee
H'rel strolls into the barracks with the heavy sound of footsteps, looking around from side to side as he observes the pairs he finds as he goes.
Cynara is curled up next to a blue that gleams with the specific glint of fresh oiling. Right now, though, the petite weyrling is taking care of herself, munching from a plate of food, but seeming distracted, perhaps by some conversation with her lifemate.
G'tive is making a mildly disgusted face at his lifemate, the young brown burps happily eliciting another grimace from Gus. "Ugh, Cansoth. I can *taste* that." He makes a gagging noise and rolls over onto his side, not caring if he gets dirty from the bowl floor. "I think I should switch you to a more fish diet."
Nolee's on the ground, the concept of oiling one she's getting rather aquainted with. Nalaieth's lifted one wing, though mostly to inspect her own under-arm/under-wing, and it is starting to sag as her attention wanders. "Hold still? Please? I promise I'll try not to tickle." Nalaieth makes a cheerful rumble toward Cansoth for his happy sound.
H'rel paces the full length of the barracks, saying nothing as he continues inspecting the occupants of each couch with his usual sternly critical eye. Once he's reached the far end of the barracks, he makes his way back to the center, "Weyrlings, if I might have everyone's attention for a moment." the assistant weyrlingmaster calls out, lacing his fingers in front of himself as he scans to make sure he gets everyone's attention.
Cynara looks up from her food, moving to a more attention stance. The plate is, in any case, nearly empty. Next to her a blue head lifts to point towards the weyrlingmaster, although from its tilt, the young dragon's listening much more to his lifemate.
G'tive notices H'rel and tries out his salute once more, it's not nearly clumsy as before but it still lacks anything near formal. "Yes, sir?" Cansoth continues to laze about on his back, showing his fully belly in the most contented of ways.
Nolee pops her head up from behind and partly under her lifemate, her face visible around the wide rumply belly of the one-day-will-be-pudgy gold. Nalaieth continues staring at her wing, fascinated by the thin gossamer and the dark spots on her hide, so Nolee rests her chin on the dragonet's belly, attentive.
H'rel returns the salutes flashed in his direction, reserving a stern look for those weyrlings that didn't remember to salute him first. He pauses a few moments to let the salutes sink in as he finally has everyone's attention, lowering his hand. "As I'm certain you've all noticed - some of you more than others - this barracks has once again regained it's traditional odor of young dragon. And all the oil and scrubbing you can manage here will not cover the scent. I believe it would be time to allow for a much more natural form of cleaning."
G'tive sits up fully and attentively with Cansoth close behind, mostly just to copy his lifemate's actions than for him being excited by anything. On the other hand if Gus had dragon eyes his would be whirling blue at top speed.
Cynara hrms. "I'll be glad when we have our own weyrs for /that/ reason if nothing else," she murmurs to herself and Marsath, uncurling into a far more attentive position, although her dragon gets a long look, after which he tilts his head back to point both headknobs at H'rel.
Nolee quickly raises her hand, though the salute falls flat into a head-scratching as it's a little late in being added to the fray. "You're 'posed ta stand up." Nolee nudges her lifemate, who stretches her wing out toward the ceiling in response. See? Up. Nolee eagerly contributes, "Yes, sir. It reeks in here, and is no fun to sweep up."
H'rel has a little bit of a smile on his face, "I'm to take a few of you and your lifemates to the pool for a proper bathing." he moves one hand to point his finger out toward the various pairings, "You, you, you, you, you, and... you, first. How frequently this happens for the next few months, under my eye at least, will depend on behavior tonight. Any questions?" And of course, everyone here is pointed to.
G'tive looks at Cansoth and scratches his headknobs. "You get to swim, oh you'll like it. But, stay near the lake shore." Cansoth looks about at his clutchmates then to his lifemate, he stand and hops about in a 'getting to go out' sort of way.
Marsath, for his part, lifts his head, then stretches as he climbs out of his couch. Apparently, he was a little sleepy, although no more, judging by his eyes now. "None from me," Cynara says with apparent amusement, "Sir." Of course, the questions from /Marsath/, she can answer herself.
Nolee hops up to her feet, possibly more quickly than she's ever moved before. "We get real baths?!" Before the rider can change his mind, she's hopped over to Nalaieth's couchy indent, and is digging though a small pile of slept on by a dragon belongings. A brush is unearthed, and a sprig of a dried perfumed herb. Only after Nolee's standing near the barracks entry, eagerly, does Nalaieth move to join her, curiosity piqued. "None, sir!"
At the reactions his offer recieves, the older brownrider seems quietly pleased. "None, none, and none, then." he echoes as he looks between the group, motioning for the exit, "Then gather your lifemates and head this way. Please -attempt- to contain your lifemates' enthusiasm, though it will be understandable that they will be somewhat... eager."
Cansoth is still hopping around, knocking random things off shelves and from dragon couches. "Calm down, Canso, we have to be on our best behavior so we can go again." The young brown does seem to calm a bit, only by not knocking things over, he still hops around, only in one spot. G'tive stand and starts to head for the door, a jumping brown following him.
Nolee's thigh is nudged by her lifemate, who has pushed the oil paddle across the floor toward her. "Are you still itchy? We'll oil you again when you're clean." That placates Nala, and the duo follow out behind the bouncing G'tive and Cansoth, Nala playfully bounding at Cansoth's tail as they go.
Cynara heads towards the entrance, Marsath sort of sneaking after her, low to the ground and moving pretty quickly, but apparently reined in by his lifemate at least to the point of staying with her.
Pool and Garden
The ocean glimmers a deep golden-red with the light of the setting sun. The black, massive stone of Ista Weyr looms to the east, and that matte stone seems to absorb the glory of the sunset spread out in panoramic glory to your west. A circle of stones line the crystal-clear pool, fed by a rushing stream from the distant black Weyr walls. The air is scented with the ocean and with the flowers and fruit trees planted here in orderly rows. A small flagstone path meanders past a low stone fence and out back to the plateau.
The wet season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures.
Crispin stands by the edge of the pool, watching the sunset quietly with his brown firelizard Cedar.
Crispin
A young boy grins up at you, his round face gaining more color as he spends more and more time outside. Skin is still smooth and has that pale tint to it common of those born and raised in the High Reaches. However, now that he's spending more time in the tropics he's getting a little pink. His fine brows are dark and arched around eyes the color of the sea after a storm, vibrant and bright. His hair is almost exactly like his mother's - short and brown and wild. He is dressed in good play clothes of dark colors which hide dirt and food well. He studies your face for a moment before his eyes shift, looking past your shoulder to something beyond. Crispin appears to be 8 Turns, 5 months, and 27 days old.
H'rel wanders into view with a procession of Weyrlings and their lifemates, making his way toward where his own brown, Noteniath, rests on his haunches at the edge of the water's shore. "Alright, Weyrlings. Please try and contain your companions from trampling the lad over there, as that would be a most unfortunate occurrence for the evening."
Nolee follows along behind Nalaieth, making certain that her lifemate doesn't get too overzealous with tail-chasing. After tripping over her own feet a few times, Nolee laughs. "I haven't walked that far in days," she pants. "It's a longer trip than I remember. But ohh, isn't it a beautiful evening? Look at that sunset." Respectful of the other person here who might also be watching, she hushes.
Marsath has been taking everything in, head tilting and pointing this way and that to pick up the sights and sounds, lingering longest on an adult blue they happen to pass, for some reason.
H'rel strolls over to the resting older brown, patting his lifemate firmly on the hindleg before turning to address the group, first chuckling quietly at Crispin's remark, "They're here to allow their lifemates a proper swim and a good cleaning." he comments in return before looking between the assembled young pairs. "Do not allow them to go deeper than they can walk at first, and have them take care with regards to thrashing about."
Nalaieth leaves off chasing Cansoth's tail, distracted by the all-too tempting water and the sounds it makes. She bounds close, catching the reflected view of another young dragonet her color, and she bounds back, then forward again, hissing to protect her kin from this imagined menace. Nolee laughs, then clasps her hand over her mouth to halt the noise, though it's quick that her shoes are off and her feet are in the water. At Crispin's question, she looks back toward H'rel, planner of their activities, for direction. "Evening! It's a lovely night for a bath, isn't it?"
Cynara tugs her shoes off, and starts to roll up her trous as her dragon starts to wade into the water. Then? Deep water. This is even better than mud puddles. /Splash/. Cynara is, of course, the target, and she laughs.
Crispin pouts for a moment and then giggles at Nalaieth, "She's beautiful," he comments to Nolee, edging closer to the group. "The rocks are slippery," he warns the weyrlings and riders.
Crispin pouts for a moment and then giggles at Nalaieth, "She's beautiful," he comments to Nolee, edging closer to the group. "The rocks are slippery," he warns the weyrlings and riders.
Cansoth bounds up the path, scrambling and clawing at the wet earth. He seems to be enjoying everything he approaches. He stops midbound and nearly tumbles over himself, almost recreating his Hatching experience. "No, not a puddle, pond. No don..." Too late, the words that had been trying to escapes G'tive's mouth fall on deaf knobs as Cansoth makes a full leap into the pool.
H'rel shows a bit of a wince at Cansoth's exuberance, turning his head to look toward G'tive, "Get him settled, please, Weyrling." is said with just enough volume to carry over the din, but no more, before he moves a hand to indicate to Nolee and Nalaieth that they're free to enter the water. "Consider this a time of play, simply beware of letting your companions play too vigorously. It was a long walk to get them here."
Crispin giggles, "You think they'll get tired?" he asks H'rel, "with all that muscle?" He watches the weyrlings, "Can we swim with them?"
Cynara grins and heads into the water after Marsath, splashing him back. "Now, stay still so I can wash you, love?" The blue? He pokes his nose in the water...and discovers something wonderful. He can blow /bubbles/!
Nolee nudges her lifemate, the girl taking some leading steps to urge her ownward. Needing no further direction, Nalaieth slips into the water, immediately and furiously scrabbling through the liquid with her front limbs, giving her the appearance of dog-paddling in shallow water, trying to pop the bubbles drifting away from Marsath. "You wherryhead," Nolee says, affectionately, while opening the herbal pouch and using some of its contents to scrub down her lifemate. "Anyone else want some? I think it's lavendar soapsand. From my mum."
Cansoth disappears under the water for quite an amount of time, leaving G'tive to crouch at the water line nervously. His eyes are out of focus and a look of deep concentration is causing lines on his forhead. Finally a liquidy brown form appears below the surface and then nearly darts up from the lapping water causing his lifemate to fall forward into the pool.
(RoadRunner was mean and we all lagged out)