Mind all wrapped up in somethin'?
Who: T'rev and Mecaith, Rhodya and Gedroth
When: Late afternoon on day 20, month 6, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Gedroth barges in on Mecaith's dinner to pester him with questions and practice flying. T'rev worries about Rhodya's sleeping habits, but she's not very forthcoming.
Leaning against the fence rail of the feeding grounds, T'rev's dressed down for Fort's summer weather in short sleeves and shorts, sandals on his feet instead of boots. Mecaith's in the pens sailing to and and fro while he aims to pick out a kill and his rider watches idly, fingers threaded together loosely from the drape of his hands over the rail.
Gedroth arrives first, trotting up to the fence on those peculiarly graceful, gangly limbs of his. The brown slides to a halt not far from T'rev, his whirling eyes already fixed intently on the dragon who soars above him. But either he noticed the rider there, or Rhodya - who's ambling casually after him in an equally casual sundress and tall sandals - reminded him of his manners, because he does offer T'rev a small beep of greeting to pass the time while his rider finishes getting her butt over here.
Mecaith swings around one more time then drops with swift, lethal force to fell his kill neatly and efficiently. T'rev looks up, watching Gedroth pass with a faintly bemused look on his face, then his gaze skips backwars to Rhodya, a hand lifted in greeting. "How's it, Rhodya? And him?"
"Heya, T'rev. Goin' all right," she calls back to him. Gedroth leans into the fence as he watches Mecaith's dive, studying the bronze's technique and flexing his talons as though he were there making the kill himself. Rhodya comes up beside her brown and leans up on the fence between him and the bronzerider. "He's goin' all right, too. /Flying/ now and everything." Well, gliding. Everyone in the weyr has surely seen the little dragonets gliding around the bowl by now.
Mecaith settles in with his meal: very neat eater, very little spilled blood or guts. "Yeah, been watchin' the flyin' part now and then," T'rev says with a bright smile for Rhodya. "They're really startin' to take to it. Let me know if he wants to practice or anything," the bronzerider offers and looks back out at where Mecaith eats. "And when Jantha clears you all, I can take you up around the Weyr and just outside it too."
"What do you think he ran over here for?" Rhodya asks T'rev with a chuckle. She gives her brown an affectionate slap on the shoulder, and he takes his eyes off Mecaith for the first time to perform a fancy piaffe for the humans. Rhodya laughs again. "He saw Mecaith buzzin' around up here and was all over me to get up and come with him. Talk about takin' to it, I can't keep him /out/ of the sky." Not that she'd dry, judging by the dreamy, affectionate look she keeps floating towards her brown.
Mecaith continues to eat, taking his time with the carcass, though he does look up an over at Gedroth. << Are you hungry, Gedroth? >> he asks in between bites. T'rev laughs along with Rhodya and leans to bump his elbow against hers companionably. "He wantin' t'hunt or just spin around the sky then? Mec's happy t'go up with him soon as he's done," the bronzerider answers.
<< No. Food sits heavy in my belly and I can't fly as well, >> Gedroth explains. He's clearly tempted by the smell of food, though, stretching his nose out over the fence to whiff at the distant, bloody odors now wafting his way with a change of wind. Rhodya grins at T'rev. "Oh, he just wants to spin around. I expect he'll get hungry after he's worked himself up some. He usually wants to eat after he's worked his muscles." But just because Gedroth isn't hungry right now doesn't mean the elephant's child has put away his curious nature. << Mecaith, what does it mean to blood your kill? >>
Mecaith takes another mouthful and considers Gedroth's thoughts while he chews. << It does tend to make one a little less agile in the air, >> the bronze replies after a moment. T'rev grins, nodding. "Well then, we can do that, no problem," he agrees and tilts a look between dragons. "Who told him 'bout that?" Because Mecaith is answering with careful precision: << Blooding ones kill refers to the act of opening a beast's throat and drinking only the blood. Typically, we do this as we prepare to pursue a female into the skies and the green or gold does the same so as not to be weighed down by meat when flying, but to have enough energy to fly well. >>
<< That doesn't sound very good to me. It would slosh around around in my stomach instead of weighing me down. I can feel very much when something is in my stomach. >> Rhodya shakes her head with a grimace. "I don't know. He's been interrogatin' everybody he meets lately, and I couldn't begin to guess who he got that one out of. Baby? D'you remember?" Hey, the odds are against a dragon remembering anything, but she can try. She shouldn't have, though, because Gedroth looks at the riders with a sudden curiosity. << I think it was Peraith. Should I not know? >> His words trickle back to Mecaith. Rhodya gives T'rev an uncertain look. "Er, no, baby, it's just an odd question. Little bit old for your age." << I am a little bit smart for my age, >> Gedroth answers plainly, and turns back to Mecaith.
Mecaith shares the sensation with Gedroth of warm blood seeping inward. << It does not slosh so much. But when flying after a rapid queen, the body requires fuel and blood is what we need. >> He's placid, unperturbed by these ideas and he shares them as facts, concepts with Gedroth, walling away some of the other things that can often be associated with flights. "Yeah? He's a questioner then," T'rev says with a laugh. "Seems like he's not too fussed, Rhodya ..." he notes for that uncertainty on her face. << Peraith. >> Mecaith picks out that dragon's image from memories and makes a little slideshow of the blue to share with Gedroth.
Gedroth watches the slideshow with interest. He remembers Peraith, but now he gets to see him as Mecaith has seen him, and that's interesting. << Peraith, >> he confirms. << He said he does not like to blood. Now I know why. If the body is strong enough to fly, it is strong enough to fly well. Provided you have been eating on schedule, and aren't starving. I'll bet the body that's left behind tastes different when there is no blood in the meat. >> The brown hops the fence and goes sniffing through the paddock, most certainly looking for any remnants of recent green flights he can examine. Rhodya makes a sound of protest when he departs so suddenly, but she decides to let him go, sending nothing more after him than a queer look. "Yeah, he's definitely a questioner. Used to be he'd just ask me stuff, but I guess he's gotten bolder, or he figures he knows what I know now." She shrugs. Her gaze lingers on Gedroth as she leans in to whisper to T'rev, in secretive tones, "I don't think he's got any idea about /girls/, though." She winks at the bronzerider and puts a finger to her lips. Best keep it that way. Gedroth's question about blooding was perfectly innocent.
Mecaith finishes flipping images and stacks them back up neatly with that top one, just a simple portrait. << Peraith. >> He considers again though what Gedroth is saying. << I believe that that would be fine if the flight is short, a green. For a gold, it will not suffice, especially not for most browns. >> THis is offered up factually, no criticism intended or implied for the young brown's color. Mecaith keeps on eating, making quick enough work of the carcas and stretches out as the last few bits are stripped off. Mecaith's wings rustle a little and he turns to follow Gedroth, large steps pacing smaller. T'rev leans in for that lower-voiced, winking confession and he chuckles softly. "Mecaith's doin' just the facts ma'am without gettin' into it. It'll come in time." He smiles down at Rhodya warmly, reaches out to give her shouler a squeeze. "You gettin' any more sleep?"
<< Have you ever caught one? >> Gedroth asks, shifting his interrogation to something else. He trots forward when he spies a carcass that's mostly intact, but finds that whoever ate it simply failed to finish their meal: no blooded throat here. He beeps in disappointment. Rhodya makes a face and taps her temple accusingly. "Afraid not. Guess I'm restless or something, I don't know. I been wakin' up in the middle of the night a lot, then I can't get back to sleep, but at least now I got a /reason/ to be tired." She chuckles.
<< Yes. I have caught two greens, >> Mecaith answers the young brown and builds two new slide shows, one of Vrianth, one of Arenith. Each is imbued with slightly different feelings, Vrianth is still drawn in clear, vivid lines, an undercurrent of something more than just affection there, but Mecaith masks this. Arenith is a fond memory, getting a little fuzzy around the edges. T'rev looks concerned about what Rhodya tells him. "Huh, mind all wrapped up in somethin'?" he asks her curiously.
Gedroth is somewhat less than diplomatic. << /Only/ two? >> he asks, with disbelief. He stops searching for blooded carcasses in order to reassess the bronze that's with him, cocking his head to one side. << And you have never caught a gold? >> It's not that the bronze is shrinking in his estimation - Gedroth's tone is still respectful - but that a new mystery now characterizes him. Rhodya makes a thoughtful "Hmm" sound but shakes her head, looking distantly (and yes, evasively) over at the dragons. "Oh, nothin' really. I figure it's just that he used to have me up at all hours, and my body still thinks it's on that schedule."
Mecaith is unruffled by the emphatic question. << Yes. I do not wish for more. My heart is settled, >> the bronze answers simply. << Perhaps someday, there will be a queen, but I do not require such a thing. >> Because there is that image of Vrianth again and the feeling of shared affection and closeness even outside of a flight. T'rev looks at Rhodya sidelong and suspiciously. "Y'know, I'm really good at readin' people, Rho," he says casually, "and your mouth is sayin' one thing and your face n' body're sayin' another."
Gedroth takes that image under his own power, turning it around in his mind to examine that idea of bonded contentment. Then files it away. << You chased the High Reaches queen, >> he points out. << Eviruth said so. >> Is there anyone he /doesn't/ talk to? Rhodya letting her head tip aside to rest on one shoulder. "All right," she answers, resigned. "All right. Been havin' some bad dreams lately. Like I tell Gedroth, it ain't nothing to worry about. People /have/ bad dreams. I have 'em a lot when I get too hot in my bed. >>
Mecaith does not deny at all. << I did indeed. But there is a difference between not requiring something and being interested, >> the bronze explains calmly. << Iovniath is a very interesting queen. >> T'rev turns to take in Rhodya's face, her posture. "What kinda bad dreams?" he cuts right to the chase, fingers lacing together more fully over the fence rail.
Gedroth bubbles with questions. His front feet prance back and forth, like things possessed, because he doesn't seem to pay any attention to them. << But you have never been interested enough to catch more than those two? What is so interesting about Iovniath? >> Rhodya gives T'rev a slightly cross look. Well, that's to be expected; he's prying into what she tried to cover up. "Bad dreams about /everythin'/," she tells him, looking away. "I mess up, I can't control Gedroth, or he gets hurt, or my Papa does, or I get lost somewhere, or I show up naked to my lessons, or I'm with T again and Gedroth never happened. And I swear to you I been havin' dreams about my mother, my /dead/ mother, 'cept she's not really the right person. She's crass and she's mean sometimes. Everybody's mean."
Mecaith waits for all the questions to be asked before attempting to answer any. << Perhaps not ... >> and then further consideration and then he just shows: Iovniath rimed with frost and dusted with snow within her mindscape and the cool, inner workings of her mind. << She is ... opposite to me and that is interesting. >> Because his mind is all desert sand and sun, heat and shade, light and shadow and somewhere deep within, an oasis chuckling merrily. << Vrianth is ... >> he imagines a storm rolling in, the lift of hairs as electricity polarizes the air and the pulse of a thrillingly heady current. T'rev meanwhile is listening to Rhoday, nodding now and then. "That's a lotta different kind of dreams," he says gently. "Sounds like you're worryin' a lot, Rho?" And his hand is lifting, reaching towards her arm to rest there lightly unless she pulls away.
Gedroth listens politely, but only politely. The tenor of these strange female minds doesn't interest him, so his interest in the line of questioning is quickly wearing off. He spreads his wings out, fluttering them at Mecaith. << Okay, >> he says. << I'm ready to fly now if you are. Can we do that? >> Rhodya doesn't pull away from his touch, though she remains tense. Her dreams are an uncomfortable subject, and she won't look at him while she talks about them. "I /always/ worry a lot. I was tellin' W'ton the other day, that's my nature. And then the funny thing is, I ain't worried about my worrying, but you and Gedroth sure seem inclined to." She hitches up one corner of a smile.
Mecaith lifts his head and scents the wind. << If you are ready, then I am prepared to go with you. Let's see how far your wings can take you. I will be right behind you. >> T'rev's hand climbs up that arm a little more, rubbing in massage-style, an answer to that tension. "Well y'know, wouldn't be askin' except that it's enough worry that y'ain't sleepin'," the bronzerider points out. "'Cos there's a difference between worryin' 'cos you're a worrier n' worryin' yourself sick y'know? But if y'ain't worried 'bout the worryin' ..." he stops suddenly and just bursts out laughing. "Aw shells, c'mere, can I give you a hug?"
Gedroth starts dancing in place again, his (relatively) little feet criss-crossing with surprising dexterity and speed. << I can go very far, >> he informs Mecaith, << especially if the wind is good. >> Imitating the bronze, he scents it, taking a bit longer to try and assess exactly how it's coming in. Turning himself so he'll have it directly on his back, the brown bunches his muscles up tight as a spring, then uncoils in a violent upwards leap that carries him well into the air. Shooting wordless flashes of delight back at Mecaith, he spreads his wings and rides the summer wind partway across the paddocks, his flight perfectly steady if not really showy at all. Rhodya looks at T'rev again and blinks, surprised by the sudden change of subject, then she bursts out laughing too. "You sure can," she answers with a grin, stepping away from the fence and spreading her arms wide. She tucks herself into that hug, squeezing tightly. "And I /ain't/ worried about the worrying," she tells him midway through.
Mecaith waits, watches and then simply ... lifts off. Almost like it's floating and not flying, wings spread wide as he glides after Gedroth. << It's good to fly the wing >> T'rev grins and folds his arms around her, gives her back a friendly pat or two. "Yeah. Just hope that the dreams let up, Rho. 'cos you /gotta/ be able to sleep. There's gonna be more 'n more t'do n' learn and y'need your beauty sleepy, my friend. So. If there's anything on your mind, can tell me and it can just be y'know, your friend T'rev, 'stead of mentor T'rev and it's just between us. No Jantha."
Gedroth hits the ground with a small thud, grunting with dissatisfaction at the one jarring note in his otherwise perfect showcase. Futzing his feet about, he turns to face Mecaith, though he's barely in time to catch the bronze's landing. << You go in front this time, >> he says, belatedly following his order with a mental note of 'please'? Rhodya smiles at T'rev as she steps back, tucking her hands comfortably in her pockets. "Well, I wasn't thinkin' of you none like that, anyhow. I just... I don't know, I never liked tellin' my dreams to people. My Papa used to have to coax 'em out of me, too, and you /know/ how much I love my Papa. So. It ain't a reflection on you," she explains, patting his arm.
Mecaith is light to land too and he reaches his muzzle forward towards Gedroth a little, taking in that landing. << Stretch your wings a little more and let them lift a little more as you come down so it's smooth, >> he suggests. << And I would be happy too. >> For the belatedly please and up Mecaith goes, wheeling slowly around. T'rev gives Rhodya's back one last pat and leans against the fence again. "Yeah, actually I get it. Didn't used t'much like to tell anyone about what was goin' on in my head," the bronzerider says slowly. "Big on keepin' things private. Just sayin' if you need an ear."
When Gedroth said 'go first,' it turns out, what he actually meant was 'go by yourself so I may watch obsessively.' The focus of his whirling eyes is hard to track, but they're moving very quickly and clearly taking in a lot. After Mecaith lands, Gedroth walks to the same spot where he took off and replicates the entire flight, missing a few of the graceful habits Mecaith has developed over time but nonetheless respectable. And he /nails/ the landing. Rhodya hops back up on the fence, too, eager to see what her dragon's doing over there. "That's it, baby!" she calls out to him on that landing, then grins aside at T'rev. "Thanks, T'rev. Appreciate it. I just think dreams are so silly," she admits, returning to the dragons. "Don't understand why anyone'd take 'em serious. I've had dreams about being made of gelatin, you think that means anything about my future as a great dessert?"
There's a look over Mecaith's shoulder for Gedroth and then understanding of what the brown is doing so he makes sure he's easy to watch. Back on the ground, his head tilts up to watch Gedroth try it out and his congratulations join in with Rhodya's happy cheering and T'rev's brief applauze. << That was very nicely done Gedroth. >> His rider nods a few times. "Yeah, don't have to be 'bout dreams neither, just y'know. Remember how we talked before you Impressed? Like that." He grins over at her and then makes a face. "Ugh, /gelatin/ seriously? Like all ..." and he kind of jiggles his whole body.
Gedroth rears up on his hind feet, but unfortunately he is getting a little too big for /that/ kind of dancing, and quickly falls four-footed after a short, shamble-footed display. << It felt more natural that way, >> he tells his teacher. << When I let my wings stretch and lift, I was no longer yanked back when I landed. >> Rhodya grins and holds her arms out, waving them like a bad impersonation of Vishnu. "Like all," she confirms. "It was neat, though, don't act all grossed out when you ain't tried it. I felt all wavy and loose. And while I /did/ fall off the weyr, well, when I hit the bottom - I bounced!"
Mecaith has settled down comfortably on the ground and observes Gedroth's 'dance' with the calm of a patient adult. << It does feel good when it all works out doesn't it? >> the bronze notes, pleased and shares a little desert sunshine by way of congratulations. His rider meanwhile is just all sorts of cracking up. "Loose. Fell. /BOUNCED/." Laughing merrily T'rev has to wipe tears from his eyes eventually. "Good one."
Desert sunshine fits right in with the hot, sticky, buzzing marshes in Gedroth's mind. This, to him, is what a good day feels like. << It comes together, >> he agrees. Rhodya seems surprised that her dream evoked such mirth, but she's perfectly willing to enjoy it, grinning broadly at T'rev while he struggles to get control of himself after laughing so hard. "Thank you. Or rather, my subconscious thanks you." She winks.
Mecaith nudges a little more warm sunshine Gedroth's way then stretches out and tilts his head back to enjoy the wind. << So it does. So it does. >> T'rev just takes a deep breath and grins at Rhodya. "Imagine, if you will, you, bouncin' around like a ball, only still you, but ... man, too hard t'explain, but it was funny."
"Fair enough," Rhodya accepts. "It's like that time I pictured you in your swim shorts out in the snow, if you remember that, and you thought I was crazy laughin' like I did. So hey, at least I been there." Gedroth, out in the pasture, is acting like Rhodya predicted he would: after a bit of flying to get his appetite started, the young brown has suddenly begun stalking the herd, forgetting completely about his lessons with Mecaith in the interests of hunting one down... and possibly blooding it. When no one is looking.
((Log ends here, due to lack of brain on behalf of both participants.))
When: Late afternoon on day 20, month 6, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
What: Gedroth barges in on Mecaith's dinner to pester him with questions and practice flying. T'rev worries about Rhodya's sleeping habits, but she's not very forthcoming.
Leaning against the fence rail of the feeding grounds, T'rev's dressed down for Fort's summer weather in short sleeves and shorts, sandals on his feet instead of boots. Mecaith's in the pens sailing to and and fro while he aims to pick out a kill and his rider watches idly, fingers threaded together loosely from the drape of his hands over the rail.
Gedroth arrives first, trotting up to the fence on those peculiarly graceful, gangly limbs of his. The brown slides to a halt not far from T'rev, his whirling eyes already fixed intently on the dragon who soars above him. But either he noticed the rider there, or Rhodya - who's ambling casually after him in an equally casual sundress and tall sandals - reminded him of his manners, because he does offer T'rev a small beep of greeting to pass the time while his rider finishes getting her butt over here.
Mecaith swings around one more time then drops with swift, lethal force to fell his kill neatly and efficiently. T'rev looks up, watching Gedroth pass with a faintly bemused look on his face, then his gaze skips backwars to Rhodya, a hand lifted in greeting. "How's it, Rhodya? And him?"
"Heya, T'rev. Goin' all right," she calls back to him. Gedroth leans into the fence as he watches Mecaith's dive, studying the bronze's technique and flexing his talons as though he were there making the kill himself. Rhodya comes up beside her brown and leans up on the fence between him and the bronzerider. "He's goin' all right, too. /Flying/ now and everything." Well, gliding. Everyone in the weyr has surely seen the little dragonets gliding around the bowl by now.
Mecaith settles in with his meal: very neat eater, very little spilled blood or guts. "Yeah, been watchin' the flyin' part now and then," T'rev says with a bright smile for Rhodya. "They're really startin' to take to it. Let me know if he wants to practice or anything," the bronzerider offers and looks back out at where Mecaith eats. "And when Jantha clears you all, I can take you up around the Weyr and just outside it too."
"What do you think he ran over here for?" Rhodya asks T'rev with a chuckle. She gives her brown an affectionate slap on the shoulder, and he takes his eyes off Mecaith for the first time to perform a fancy piaffe for the humans. Rhodya laughs again. "He saw Mecaith buzzin' around up here and was all over me to get up and come with him. Talk about takin' to it, I can't keep him /out/ of the sky." Not that she'd dry, judging by the dreamy, affectionate look she keeps floating towards her brown.
Mecaith continues to eat, taking his time with the carcass, though he does look up an over at Gedroth. << Are you hungry, Gedroth? >> he asks in between bites. T'rev laughs along with Rhodya and leans to bump his elbow against hers companionably. "He wantin' t'hunt or just spin around the sky then? Mec's happy t'go up with him soon as he's done," the bronzerider answers.
<< No. Food sits heavy in my belly and I can't fly as well, >> Gedroth explains. He's clearly tempted by the smell of food, though, stretching his nose out over the fence to whiff at the distant, bloody odors now wafting his way with a change of wind. Rhodya grins at T'rev. "Oh, he just wants to spin around. I expect he'll get hungry after he's worked himself up some. He usually wants to eat after he's worked his muscles." But just because Gedroth isn't hungry right now doesn't mean the elephant's child has put away his curious nature. << Mecaith, what does it mean to blood your kill? >>
Mecaith takes another mouthful and considers Gedroth's thoughts while he chews. << It does tend to make one a little less agile in the air, >> the bronze replies after a moment. T'rev grins, nodding. "Well then, we can do that, no problem," he agrees and tilts a look between dragons. "Who told him 'bout that?" Because Mecaith is answering with careful precision: << Blooding ones kill refers to the act of opening a beast's throat and drinking only the blood. Typically, we do this as we prepare to pursue a female into the skies and the green or gold does the same so as not to be weighed down by meat when flying, but to have enough energy to fly well. >>
<< That doesn't sound very good to me. It would slosh around around in my stomach instead of weighing me down. I can feel very much when something is in my stomach. >> Rhodya shakes her head with a grimace. "I don't know. He's been interrogatin' everybody he meets lately, and I couldn't begin to guess who he got that one out of. Baby? D'you remember?" Hey, the odds are against a dragon remembering anything, but she can try. She shouldn't have, though, because Gedroth looks at the riders with a sudden curiosity. << I think it was Peraith. Should I not know? >> His words trickle back to Mecaith. Rhodya gives T'rev an uncertain look. "Er, no, baby, it's just an odd question. Little bit old for your age." << I am a little bit smart for my age, >> Gedroth answers plainly, and turns back to Mecaith.
Mecaith shares the sensation with Gedroth of warm blood seeping inward. << It does not slosh so much. But when flying after a rapid queen, the body requires fuel and blood is what we need. >> He's placid, unperturbed by these ideas and he shares them as facts, concepts with Gedroth, walling away some of the other things that can often be associated with flights. "Yeah? He's a questioner then," T'rev says with a laugh. "Seems like he's not too fussed, Rhodya ..." he notes for that uncertainty on her face. << Peraith. >> Mecaith picks out that dragon's image from memories and makes a little slideshow of the blue to share with Gedroth.
Gedroth watches the slideshow with interest. He remembers Peraith, but now he gets to see him as Mecaith has seen him, and that's interesting. << Peraith, >> he confirms. << He said he does not like to blood. Now I know why. If the body is strong enough to fly, it is strong enough to fly well. Provided you have been eating on schedule, and aren't starving. I'll bet the body that's left behind tastes different when there is no blood in the meat. >> The brown hops the fence and goes sniffing through the paddock, most certainly looking for any remnants of recent green flights he can examine. Rhodya makes a sound of protest when he departs so suddenly, but she decides to let him go, sending nothing more after him than a queer look. "Yeah, he's definitely a questioner. Used to be he'd just ask me stuff, but I guess he's gotten bolder, or he figures he knows what I know now." She shrugs. Her gaze lingers on Gedroth as she leans in to whisper to T'rev, in secretive tones, "I don't think he's got any idea about /girls/, though." She winks at the bronzerider and puts a finger to her lips. Best keep it that way. Gedroth's question about blooding was perfectly innocent.
Mecaith finishes flipping images and stacks them back up neatly with that top one, just a simple portrait. << Peraith. >> He considers again though what Gedroth is saying. << I believe that that would be fine if the flight is short, a green. For a gold, it will not suffice, especially not for most browns. >> THis is offered up factually, no criticism intended or implied for the young brown's color. Mecaith keeps on eating, making quick enough work of the carcas and stretches out as the last few bits are stripped off. Mecaith's wings rustle a little and he turns to follow Gedroth, large steps pacing smaller. T'rev leans in for that lower-voiced, winking confession and he chuckles softly. "Mecaith's doin' just the facts ma'am without gettin' into it. It'll come in time." He smiles down at Rhodya warmly, reaches out to give her shouler a squeeze. "You gettin' any more sleep?"
<< Have you ever caught one? >> Gedroth asks, shifting his interrogation to something else. He trots forward when he spies a carcass that's mostly intact, but finds that whoever ate it simply failed to finish their meal: no blooded throat here. He beeps in disappointment. Rhodya makes a face and taps her temple accusingly. "Afraid not. Guess I'm restless or something, I don't know. I been wakin' up in the middle of the night a lot, then I can't get back to sleep, but at least now I got a /reason/ to be tired." She chuckles.
<< Yes. I have caught two greens, >> Mecaith answers the young brown and builds two new slide shows, one of Vrianth, one of Arenith. Each is imbued with slightly different feelings, Vrianth is still drawn in clear, vivid lines, an undercurrent of something more than just affection there, but Mecaith masks this. Arenith is a fond memory, getting a little fuzzy around the edges. T'rev looks concerned about what Rhodya tells him. "Huh, mind all wrapped up in somethin'?" he asks her curiously.
Gedroth is somewhat less than diplomatic. << /Only/ two? >> he asks, with disbelief. He stops searching for blooded carcasses in order to reassess the bronze that's with him, cocking his head to one side. << And you have never caught a gold? >> It's not that the bronze is shrinking in his estimation - Gedroth's tone is still respectful - but that a new mystery now characterizes him. Rhodya makes a thoughtful "Hmm" sound but shakes her head, looking distantly (and yes, evasively) over at the dragons. "Oh, nothin' really. I figure it's just that he used to have me up at all hours, and my body still thinks it's on that schedule."
Mecaith is unruffled by the emphatic question. << Yes. I do not wish for more. My heart is settled, >> the bronze answers simply. << Perhaps someday, there will be a queen, but I do not require such a thing. >> Because there is that image of Vrianth again and the feeling of shared affection and closeness even outside of a flight. T'rev looks at Rhodya sidelong and suspiciously. "Y'know, I'm really good at readin' people, Rho," he says casually, "and your mouth is sayin' one thing and your face n' body're sayin' another."
Gedroth takes that image under his own power, turning it around in his mind to examine that idea of bonded contentment. Then files it away. << You chased the High Reaches queen, >> he points out. << Eviruth said so. >> Is there anyone he /doesn't/ talk to? Rhodya letting her head tip aside to rest on one shoulder. "All right," she answers, resigned. "All right. Been havin' some bad dreams lately. Like I tell Gedroth, it ain't nothing to worry about. People /have/ bad dreams. I have 'em a lot when I get too hot in my bed. >>
Mecaith does not deny at all. << I did indeed. But there is a difference between not requiring something and being interested, >> the bronze explains calmly. << Iovniath is a very interesting queen. >> T'rev turns to take in Rhodya's face, her posture. "What kinda bad dreams?" he cuts right to the chase, fingers lacing together more fully over the fence rail.
Gedroth bubbles with questions. His front feet prance back and forth, like things possessed, because he doesn't seem to pay any attention to them. << But you have never been interested enough to catch more than those two? What is so interesting about Iovniath? >> Rhodya gives T'rev a slightly cross look. Well, that's to be expected; he's prying into what she tried to cover up. "Bad dreams about /everythin'/," she tells him, looking away. "I mess up, I can't control Gedroth, or he gets hurt, or my Papa does, or I get lost somewhere, or I show up naked to my lessons, or I'm with T again and Gedroth never happened. And I swear to you I been havin' dreams about my mother, my /dead/ mother, 'cept she's not really the right person. She's crass and she's mean sometimes. Everybody's mean."
Mecaith waits for all the questions to be asked before attempting to answer any. << Perhaps not ... >> and then further consideration and then he just shows: Iovniath rimed with frost and dusted with snow within her mindscape and the cool, inner workings of her mind. << She is ... opposite to me and that is interesting. >> Because his mind is all desert sand and sun, heat and shade, light and shadow and somewhere deep within, an oasis chuckling merrily. << Vrianth is ... >> he imagines a storm rolling in, the lift of hairs as electricity polarizes the air and the pulse of a thrillingly heady current. T'rev meanwhile is listening to Rhoday, nodding now and then. "That's a lotta different kind of dreams," he says gently. "Sounds like you're worryin' a lot, Rho?" And his hand is lifting, reaching towards her arm to rest there lightly unless she pulls away.
Gedroth listens politely, but only politely. The tenor of these strange female minds doesn't interest him, so his interest in the line of questioning is quickly wearing off. He spreads his wings out, fluttering them at Mecaith. << Okay, >> he says. << I'm ready to fly now if you are. Can we do that? >> Rhodya doesn't pull away from his touch, though she remains tense. Her dreams are an uncomfortable subject, and she won't look at him while she talks about them. "I /always/ worry a lot. I was tellin' W'ton the other day, that's my nature. And then the funny thing is, I ain't worried about my worrying, but you and Gedroth sure seem inclined to." She hitches up one corner of a smile.
Mecaith lifts his head and scents the wind. << If you are ready, then I am prepared to go with you. Let's see how far your wings can take you. I will be right behind you. >> T'rev's hand climbs up that arm a little more, rubbing in massage-style, an answer to that tension. "Well y'know, wouldn't be askin' except that it's enough worry that y'ain't sleepin'," the bronzerider points out. "'Cos there's a difference between worryin' 'cos you're a worrier n' worryin' yourself sick y'know? But if y'ain't worried 'bout the worryin' ..." he stops suddenly and just bursts out laughing. "Aw shells, c'mere, can I give you a hug?"
Gedroth starts dancing in place again, his (relatively) little feet criss-crossing with surprising dexterity and speed. << I can go very far, >> he informs Mecaith, << especially if the wind is good. >> Imitating the bronze, he scents it, taking a bit longer to try and assess exactly how it's coming in. Turning himself so he'll have it directly on his back, the brown bunches his muscles up tight as a spring, then uncoils in a violent upwards leap that carries him well into the air. Shooting wordless flashes of delight back at Mecaith, he spreads his wings and rides the summer wind partway across the paddocks, his flight perfectly steady if not really showy at all. Rhodya looks at T'rev again and blinks, surprised by the sudden change of subject, then she bursts out laughing too. "You sure can," she answers with a grin, stepping away from the fence and spreading her arms wide. She tucks herself into that hug, squeezing tightly. "And I /ain't/ worried about the worrying," she tells him midway through.
Mecaith waits, watches and then simply ... lifts off. Almost like it's floating and not flying, wings spread wide as he glides after Gedroth. << It's good to fly the wing >> T'rev grins and folds his arms around her, gives her back a friendly pat or two. "Yeah. Just hope that the dreams let up, Rho. 'cos you /gotta/ be able to sleep. There's gonna be more 'n more t'do n' learn and y'need your beauty sleepy, my friend. So. If there's anything on your mind, can tell me and it can just be y'know, your friend T'rev, 'stead of mentor T'rev and it's just between us. No Jantha."
Gedroth hits the ground with a small thud, grunting with dissatisfaction at the one jarring note in his otherwise perfect showcase. Futzing his feet about, he turns to face Mecaith, though he's barely in time to catch the bronze's landing. << You go in front this time, >> he says, belatedly following his order with a mental note of 'please'? Rhodya smiles at T'rev as she steps back, tucking her hands comfortably in her pockets. "Well, I wasn't thinkin' of you none like that, anyhow. I just... I don't know, I never liked tellin' my dreams to people. My Papa used to have to coax 'em out of me, too, and you /know/ how much I love my Papa. So. It ain't a reflection on you," she explains, patting his arm.
Mecaith is light to land too and he reaches his muzzle forward towards Gedroth a little, taking in that landing. << Stretch your wings a little more and let them lift a little more as you come down so it's smooth, >> he suggests. << And I would be happy too. >> For the belatedly please and up Mecaith goes, wheeling slowly around. T'rev gives Rhodya's back one last pat and leans against the fence again. "Yeah, actually I get it. Didn't used t'much like to tell anyone about what was goin' on in my head," the bronzerider says slowly. "Big on keepin' things private. Just sayin' if you need an ear."
When Gedroth said 'go first,' it turns out, what he actually meant was 'go by yourself so I may watch obsessively.' The focus of his whirling eyes is hard to track, but they're moving very quickly and clearly taking in a lot. After Mecaith lands, Gedroth walks to the same spot where he took off and replicates the entire flight, missing a few of the graceful habits Mecaith has developed over time but nonetheless respectable. And he /nails/ the landing. Rhodya hops back up on the fence, too, eager to see what her dragon's doing over there. "That's it, baby!" she calls out to him on that landing, then grins aside at T'rev. "Thanks, T'rev. Appreciate it. I just think dreams are so silly," she admits, returning to the dragons. "Don't understand why anyone'd take 'em serious. I've had dreams about being made of gelatin, you think that means anything about my future as a great dessert?"
There's a look over Mecaith's shoulder for Gedroth and then understanding of what the brown is doing so he makes sure he's easy to watch. Back on the ground, his head tilts up to watch Gedroth try it out and his congratulations join in with Rhodya's happy cheering and T'rev's brief applauze. << That was very nicely done Gedroth. >> His rider nods a few times. "Yeah, don't have to be 'bout dreams neither, just y'know. Remember how we talked before you Impressed? Like that." He grins over at her and then makes a face. "Ugh, /gelatin/ seriously? Like all ..." and he kind of jiggles his whole body.
Gedroth rears up on his hind feet, but unfortunately he is getting a little too big for /that/ kind of dancing, and quickly falls four-footed after a short, shamble-footed display. << It felt more natural that way, >> he tells his teacher. << When I let my wings stretch and lift, I was no longer yanked back when I landed. >> Rhodya grins and holds her arms out, waving them like a bad impersonation of Vishnu. "Like all," she confirms. "It was neat, though, don't act all grossed out when you ain't tried it. I felt all wavy and loose. And while I /did/ fall off the weyr, well, when I hit the bottom - I bounced!"
Mecaith has settled down comfortably on the ground and observes Gedroth's 'dance' with the calm of a patient adult. << It does feel good when it all works out doesn't it? >> the bronze notes, pleased and shares a little desert sunshine by way of congratulations. His rider meanwhile is just all sorts of cracking up. "Loose. Fell. /BOUNCED/." Laughing merrily T'rev has to wipe tears from his eyes eventually. "Good one."
Desert sunshine fits right in with the hot, sticky, buzzing marshes in Gedroth's mind. This, to him, is what a good day feels like. << It comes together, >> he agrees. Rhodya seems surprised that her dream evoked such mirth, but she's perfectly willing to enjoy it, grinning broadly at T'rev while he struggles to get control of himself after laughing so hard. "Thank you. Or rather, my subconscious thanks you." She winks.
Mecaith nudges a little more warm sunshine Gedroth's way then stretches out and tilts his head back to enjoy the wind. << So it does. So it does. >> T'rev just takes a deep breath and grins at Rhodya. "Imagine, if you will, you, bouncin' around like a ball, only still you, but ... man, too hard t'explain, but it was funny."
"Fair enough," Rhodya accepts. "It's like that time I pictured you in your swim shorts out in the snow, if you remember that, and you thought I was crazy laughin' like I did. So hey, at least I been there." Gedroth, out in the pasture, is acting like Rhodya predicted he would: after a bit of flying to get his appetite started, the young brown has suddenly begun stalking the herd, forgetting completely about his lessons with Mecaith in the interests of hunting one down... and possibly blooding it. When no one is looking.
((Log ends here, due to lack of brain on behalf of both participants.))