Celebration seems a waste of time
Who: Rhodya and Gedroth, W'ton and Dasarth
When: Sunset on day 21, month 3, turn 19
Where: Lakeshore, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya celebrates Gedroth's one-month birthday with him by giving him meatloaf and watching the sun set. W'ton and Dasarth happen upon their little party, and everyone gets bent out of shape one way or another.
Sunset paints the sky vivid oranges and pinks, spring fills the air with the scents of blossoming flowers, and it is all in all a great night for a quiet party. Rhodya and Gedroth are sitting side by side on the shore of the lake, silhouettes against the dying light but easily distinguished - Gedroth is the shorter of the two, though not by much. He nips curiously at the meat loaf Rhodya brought him, pulling it to pieces and examining each one before inhaling it.
They've not had much luck at the lakeshore, W'ton and Dasarth. But that doesn't stop the bronzerider from heading that way once more. The sun is going down but the pretty sight does little for the bronze right now. He bumps, intentionally, into W'ton as they walk until finally the weyrling stops not too far from Rhodya and Gedroth. "Cut it out," he snarls without noticing they're interrupting someone else. "Shove your fat head in the lake," comes next and for his trouble the bronze thwacks his tail into a boot.
Rhodya throws an arm around her dragon, using him as an anchor so she can fall back and peer behind her. "Hey, W'ton," she says pleasantly, oblivious to or ignores his snarls. "Nice sunset, huh?" Gedroth beside her flutters his wings, sneaks a glance back at his clutchsib, but keeps his attention trained on the meatloaf.
"Rhodya, sweetheart," W'ton says with a flashing grin as he moves closer. "Looking for company or am I interrupting you?" Dasarth can trail along or not it would seem. In the end he trails along because he's not going to be left behind. His butt plants on the ground and he looks at Gedroth before looking away. Maybe he'll talk to the brown later. If it suits him. "Pretty sunset." At least W'ton wants to be social.
Rhodya unhooks her arm from Gedroth's neck, bumping him in the process. He lets himself get knocked forward, unbothered by it, and takes another nip from his meatloaf. << If you would like to try some of this meatloaf, Dasarth, you are welcome to, >> the brown starts diplomatically. << It is interesting, what riders eat. >> Rhodya gives W'ton a sunny smile. "Oh, I'm happy to have company. Gedroth and I were just celebrating his one-month birthday with a little cake." She points at the meatloaf, which could be viewed as a cake, if the interpreter were generous.
W'ton doesn't sit because first he has to look at the ground. From his back pocket he pulls out a cloth that he unfolds and uses to sit down on. Even in his 'work clothes' he is concerned about mud and other things. Not that his work clothes are not as fine as his normal clothes. "Ah. It's been a month has it? Hard to keep track. Well, a happy anniversary then. I'd have brought you something if I knew." He holds out his hand. "I'd be happy to kiss your hand." Dasarth is not so concerned by mud since he's already sitting by it. << I will not eat your cake. Or your meatloaf. Which is it? How is it both? >> There is demand in his tone, the distant clash of metal, maybe even a trumpet.
Gedroth gathers his answer like reeds from the shore, putting the ideas ('meatloaf,' 'birthday cake') into a framework. << It's both. A cake is usually made with sugar, but what it's made /for/ is to celebrate - in this case, a birthday. My cake happens to be made from meatloaf because Rho thought meat would be better for me. >> Rhodya chuckles at W'ton's elegance. She puts her hand in his, but instead of letting him kiss it, gives him a firm, congratulatory shake. Then she lets go. "It ain't just about me. It's your one month birthday too. Dasarth's, I mean. You holdin' up?"
Dasarth does not like this. This two things in one meaning more than one thing. He expresses his disapproval with a swish of his tail. It thwacks lightly into W'ton's side and the weyrling grabs it and holds it in both hands. The bronze is not amused, but tugging would be beneath him so he doesn't tug. << Why celebrate? >> He's not considered his one month since hatching day. What difference does it make? The handshake is accepted and W'ton just chuckles. "Always playing hard to get, Rhodya," he teases her before shrugging his shoulders. "Holding up fine. You know how it is."
"I do, but I ain't seen you around lately," she replies. After a glance at Dasarth, Rhodya shrugs and smiles at his rider. "He keeps you to himself, else Gedroth is keepin' me to himself, whichever." Her brown senses the nature of his clutchsib's disapproval, and after a thoughtful pause, his mind reaches out to correct Dasarth's impression with a touch here, a tug there. Cake is a category defined by its celebratory nature; this meatloaf is an article within that category. He adds a visual analogy: wing is to wingrider as cake is to his meatloaf. Make sense? << I don't know why they celebrate, >> is the first thing he 'says,' however, in so many words. << I was curious, and Rho enjoys them, so I wanted one. A birthday. >>
"He keeps me busy," W'ton agrees and then barks a laugh. "Don't think I've seen much of anyone," he says with a glare to the bronze who ignores him. "Just trying to find our way. But I don't think Gedroth's keeping you from anyone. Probably his fault." Scratching his head he glances at Rhodya and then just looks at the sea. "Pretty sure everyone's going to be doing a lot more socializing than me. Until we sort this out." This is whatever else is going on between him and his dragon. Dasarth takes these pictures, but they are not accepted. He rejects them, tramples them as he says << Celebration seems a waste of time. There is much we have to learn. Much we must do in order to get ahead. There is no time for these celebrations. >>
Rhodya gives him a grin, but it's a muted one. "Ah-ha. You /are/ having trouble." And she cleverly spooled it out of him. She tilts her head, analyzing W'ton thoughtfully. "I don't know enough to give advice or nothin', but if Gedroth and me can help, let us know." Gedroth protests as his carefully crafted thoughts are crushed to bits, uttering a verbal cry as he mentally stoops to regather the image. He tucks them all together, nesting in them. << Since we are doing nothing else /right now,/ >> he begins, only a little miffed, << there's nothing wrong with learning something extra. >>
W'ton's eyes narrow just a teeny little bit before he's all smiles once more for his fellow weyrling. "No troubles I can't handle, sunshine," he tells her with a wink. "We're gonna be fine. Nothing to be worrying about." He looks over at Gedroth when he makes noise. "That normal?" he asks as he studies the brown. Then he looks at Dasarth who doesn't make any noise but the swish, swish, swish of his tail. "He doesn't make noise." Indeed he does not make noise. Why would he? That would be utterly beneath his dignity to cry out. << You are not doing something. I am doing something. I am always learning something. >> Nyah. I am better than you. Wait, that's just sort of there in his tone.
Gedroth leans his back against Rhodya, watching Dasarth while he wolfs up the last of his meatloaf. << I am always learning, too. Right now, I am learning about celebration. >> The irritation is gone and he seems calm already, but make no mistake: this is not a dragon that forgives and forgets. This is one that's now wondering whether this other male is a foe, and has stepped back to analyze subsequent interaction in the interest of answering that question. Rhodya plants a hand on his forehead, reflexively answering his lean. She can only blink at W'ton, though. "Is what normal?" She glances at her brown to see if he's sprouted an extra limb or something. Nope, looks fine.
"Nothing. Was nothing." W'ton looks at Dasarth and lets out a sigh before brushing some imaginary dirt from the leg of his pants. << Celebration seems unimportant >> the bronze tells the brown with a mental snort. << There is nothing to be gained from it. >> He definitely sounds firm in this conviction. << It is a waste of time. I am learning important things. >> Again his rider looks at him, but the bronze does not budge although the tail swishing does end.
The look Rhodya gives W'ton is amused, now. "May not be a problem, but you sure are acting funny. I don't think I've ever seen you really sigh before, exceptin' of course over Hattie." She winks at him. Gedroth surveys his clutchsib with head tilted. << You are arguing with me about cakes. That is not important, so what exactly are you doing now that is? >>
The look Rhodya gets back has nothing of amusement in it. W'ton's got no room for amusement this evening it would seem. "Hattie ain't- isn't...there's nothing going on there." And he must be all flustered over something because his fingers dig down into the ground and there's dirt under his fingernails and everything. He'll be unhappy when he realizes it. "You shut up," he snaps then with a glare at the bronze. Dasarth thwacks his tail against his rider's boot and stands up. He moves a few feet over and then plants himself back on the ground. << Learning. >>
Rhodya's surprise was feigned, before, but now she really is. Her eyebrows ascend to her hairline. "Of course there ain't. What, am I slandering you now to suggest you got a crush?" She softens, pauses a moment to let that sink in. "Something happen?" She's nosy, that's for sure. Gedroth isn't. Receiving that uncommunicative answer from Dasarth, he simply says, << Okay, >> and stops caring. He has meatloaf crumbs to sniff at in the sand, though he is wise enough not to impact himself by eating them.
W'ton's got a headshake all ready and he tells her, "Not saying you're...not saying you're suggesting anything. I'm saying that things have changed now and I don't imagine she's going to be wanting much to do with me no more." Because he now is attached to a stick in the mud. "Also, to be frank and risk your delicate sensibilities all this time without sex is making my brain forget how to work." Oh, and there's the annoying bronze no one gets along with either. But W'ton's not going to bring up Dasarth.
Rhodya shakes her head. She doesn't look offended, just confused. "I just don't know what's going on with you these days," she admits. "So you're talking about this stuff and I feel like I'm ten steps behind. Why would Hattie want nothin' to do with you? Say what you will, you're different with him in your head." Gedroth rolls over, exposing his belly to her hand. Hint-hint. She starts scratching obediently. "But that's happening with everybody, you know? The other day, I - I think I /talk/ different with him in my head." She pats Gedroth's ribs and gets a solid thump out of them. "Not all the time. Sometimes. And Kai gets this funny smile when he looks at Chielyth, sometimes. You wouldn't think Kai'd go soft, would ya? I don't know."
"Shells, Rhodya, if I knew what was going on I would be making more sense to myself." Maybe he's just finally catching up on being tired and that's why W'ton's unable to keep up his charming persona. "Trying to keep him in line. Trying to be sure she even still remembers me once we graduate since she's so...and Elaruth's such a little delicate thing. I'm pretty sure Dasarth's already offended her like everyone else. Why would she want to spend time with me? This ain't...me." He huffs loudly, not quite a sigh, and flexes his finger in the dirt. Dasarth's head turns and he notices the belly and while he doesn't snort he clearly is not impressed with that display. His tail aims for W'ton's boot again to go thwack and gets caught for its troubles, but that's where it stays. "Kai though...got enough problems without worrying about him."
"Just an example," Rhodya murmurs. "I'm not sayin' you have to." She looks at her dragon, smiling as he closes his eyes in the enjoyment of his belly rub. She puts her other hand onto him and doubles the rubbing. "They're babies, Winston," she says, slipping back into his old name. "They'll forget things, grow up. Elaruth ain't gonna hate you forever, and Dasarth ain't always gonna act like a kid." She doesn't hesitate to call him that, much though the bronze wouldn't like it. "But you're right. It ain't /you/. And this ain't me," she says, pausing one hand to gesture down her front with it. "Now we've got them in our heads, I think we'd be crazy to figure we'll come out the same as before. Just gotta try and land on our feet, I think, or that's what I'm aiming for."
"Oh, Rhodya, darlin'," W'ton says all at once himself again. "Elaruth don't dislike me. Far from it. You think she's the first shy woman I've wooed?" Really, what is the brownrider thinking? Maybe her brain is truly fried from Gedroth's weirdness. He is weird after all. Dasarth tugs his tail away now and stands up to amble in his ungainly way towards the lake shore to stare out at the water. One paw lifts and touches at the water for just a moment before it gets jerked back. W'ton watches this and then looks at Rhodya to wink at her. "You got it easy is all. All the rest of you. Don't have to look nearly as fine as I do. It's not easy keeping up with him and all the work and still finding time to look this good."
Rhodya laughs, but she gives out an exasperated growl at well, looking up at the sky for help. None to be had. "You, Dasarth, same thing. I /swear/ you said something about her getting offended!" And that, to Rhodya, translated into hate. Gedroth is peering up at her, curious about that growl. She repeats it for him when he catches her eye, and gives him an affectionate shake. "Anyway, what're you trying to say over there? You think I don't look good?" She fluffs her hair vainly. She may not dress as nicely as W'ton - she's got on loose trousers and an old tank top today - but she /does/ take good care of her hair.
W'ton's grin is back, easy as you please, and whatever moment of self-doubt he suffered at least on the surface is long gone. "We ain't the same thing," he tells her forcefully for all his charm is back. "I am not him. He is not me. We are together, but we /ain'/ the same." Dasarth turns to look at his rider. Forcefully. Why? Probably the hated word has been used too much, but this time the weyrling does not correct himself. "He's got a way of endearing himself to everyone," is said with a snort. For all that he's annoyed he's still watching the bronze closely to be sure nothing happens to him. Until she asks that question and then he turns a look on her that's probably the sort that would get him trouble. "Rhodya," he tells her quietly, "You look good enough to eat, darlin'." Poor man. He's going /without/ and cannot seem to help himself. By the water there's a flurry of limbs, tail, and wings as Dasarth rushes up to W'ton somewhat reminiscent of when he rushed forward on the sands. Only this time he is not pleased.
Rhodya gives him a warning look in return. Just as his charm's reviving, hers is fading away: the joke has gone too far. "Settle down," she tells him simply, curtly.
Dasarth is Not Pleased. This is Not what his rider is supposed to be doing. He is not supposed to be thinking things that are like that which make him feel ways that the bronze is not comfortable with. He's just a baby! So, he rushes up to W'ton and spreads his wings to show off the crimson underneath in a display of dominance instead of wooing. << Stop it! Stop it this instant! What are you doing? You cannot do this! Cut it out! >> Rhodya at least is spared the noise. W'ton gets all clashing metal and splashing crimson as boots stomp and destroy all they can land on. There is destruction and under it command. He is Not Allowed to feel this way. It will cease immediately. Under the onslaught W'ton's barely aware of what Rhodya says. He probably didn't even really hear it because he doesn't even look at her but just mutters, "Yea, sorry."
Gedroth can't hear what Dasarth's saying, but he can certainly sense draconic agitation over there. He rolls up from his belly rub, peering across Rhodya's lap at his clutch brother. << Rho, what's going on ? >> She puts a hand on his nose and murmurs, "Hush." She watches W'ton closely, and somewhat warily; he's got that dizzy, dragon-invaded look, and Dasarth's rush makes the reason for that obvious enough, so she decides to cut him some slack. "It's all right," she answers simply.
There's much ire to share and Dasarth radiates it although he seems to at least not be drawing the attention of any of the older dragons. Probably he's just this side of having half the Weyr wanting to know what goes on. Slowly he settles down starting with his wings drawing in and him stepping/hopping back a pace or two. Eyes that whirled dangerously ever so slowly begin to settle down. He is still not pleased, but he is not ready to lay waste now. W'ton stands up suddenly and seems to notice the dirt on his hands. Under his fingernails. Eww. He stops himself just in time from wiping his hand on his pants. "Yea, I better go," he tells her somewhat gruffly before heading off with Dasarth following him still radiating his disapproval. He doesn't even offer the slightest of farewells to his clutchsib.
When: Sunset on day 21, month 3, turn 19
Where: Lakeshore, Fort Weyr
What: Rhodya celebrates Gedroth's one-month birthday with him by giving him meatloaf and watching the sun set. W'ton and Dasarth happen upon their little party, and everyone gets bent out of shape one way or another.
Sunset paints the sky vivid oranges and pinks, spring fills the air with the scents of blossoming flowers, and it is all in all a great night for a quiet party. Rhodya and Gedroth are sitting side by side on the shore of the lake, silhouettes against the dying light but easily distinguished - Gedroth is the shorter of the two, though not by much. He nips curiously at the meat loaf Rhodya brought him, pulling it to pieces and examining each one before inhaling it.
They've not had much luck at the lakeshore, W'ton and Dasarth. But that doesn't stop the bronzerider from heading that way once more. The sun is going down but the pretty sight does little for the bronze right now. He bumps, intentionally, into W'ton as they walk until finally the weyrling stops not too far from Rhodya and Gedroth. "Cut it out," he snarls without noticing they're interrupting someone else. "Shove your fat head in the lake," comes next and for his trouble the bronze thwacks his tail into a boot.
Rhodya throws an arm around her dragon, using him as an anchor so she can fall back and peer behind her. "Hey, W'ton," she says pleasantly, oblivious to or ignores his snarls. "Nice sunset, huh?" Gedroth beside her flutters his wings, sneaks a glance back at his clutchsib, but keeps his attention trained on the meatloaf.
"Rhodya, sweetheart," W'ton says with a flashing grin as he moves closer. "Looking for company or am I interrupting you?" Dasarth can trail along or not it would seem. In the end he trails along because he's not going to be left behind. His butt plants on the ground and he looks at Gedroth before looking away. Maybe he'll talk to the brown later. If it suits him. "Pretty sunset." At least W'ton wants to be social.
Rhodya unhooks her arm from Gedroth's neck, bumping him in the process. He lets himself get knocked forward, unbothered by it, and takes another nip from his meatloaf. << If you would like to try some of this meatloaf, Dasarth, you are welcome to, >> the brown starts diplomatically. << It is interesting, what riders eat. >> Rhodya gives W'ton a sunny smile. "Oh, I'm happy to have company. Gedroth and I were just celebrating his one-month birthday with a little cake." She points at the meatloaf, which could be viewed as a cake, if the interpreter were generous.
W'ton doesn't sit because first he has to look at the ground. From his back pocket he pulls out a cloth that he unfolds and uses to sit down on. Even in his 'work clothes' he is concerned about mud and other things. Not that his work clothes are not as fine as his normal clothes. "Ah. It's been a month has it? Hard to keep track. Well, a happy anniversary then. I'd have brought you something if I knew." He holds out his hand. "I'd be happy to kiss your hand." Dasarth is not so concerned by mud since he's already sitting by it. << I will not eat your cake. Or your meatloaf. Which is it? How is it both? >> There is demand in his tone, the distant clash of metal, maybe even a trumpet.
Gedroth gathers his answer like reeds from the shore, putting the ideas ('meatloaf,' 'birthday cake') into a framework. << It's both. A cake is usually made with sugar, but what it's made /for/ is to celebrate - in this case, a birthday. My cake happens to be made from meatloaf because Rho thought meat would be better for me. >> Rhodya chuckles at W'ton's elegance. She puts her hand in his, but instead of letting him kiss it, gives him a firm, congratulatory shake. Then she lets go. "It ain't just about me. It's your one month birthday too. Dasarth's, I mean. You holdin' up?"
Dasarth does not like this. This two things in one meaning more than one thing. He expresses his disapproval with a swish of his tail. It thwacks lightly into W'ton's side and the weyrling grabs it and holds it in both hands. The bronze is not amused, but tugging would be beneath him so he doesn't tug. << Why celebrate? >> He's not considered his one month since hatching day. What difference does it make? The handshake is accepted and W'ton just chuckles. "Always playing hard to get, Rhodya," he teases her before shrugging his shoulders. "Holding up fine. You know how it is."
"I do, but I ain't seen you around lately," she replies. After a glance at Dasarth, Rhodya shrugs and smiles at his rider. "He keeps you to himself, else Gedroth is keepin' me to himself, whichever." Her brown senses the nature of his clutchsib's disapproval, and after a thoughtful pause, his mind reaches out to correct Dasarth's impression with a touch here, a tug there. Cake is a category defined by its celebratory nature; this meatloaf is an article within that category. He adds a visual analogy: wing is to wingrider as cake is to his meatloaf. Make sense? << I don't know why they celebrate, >> is the first thing he 'says,' however, in so many words. << I was curious, and Rho enjoys them, so I wanted one. A birthday. >>
"He keeps me busy," W'ton agrees and then barks a laugh. "Don't think I've seen much of anyone," he says with a glare to the bronze who ignores him. "Just trying to find our way. But I don't think Gedroth's keeping you from anyone. Probably his fault." Scratching his head he glances at Rhodya and then just looks at the sea. "Pretty sure everyone's going to be doing a lot more socializing than me. Until we sort this out." This is whatever else is going on between him and his dragon. Dasarth takes these pictures, but they are not accepted. He rejects them, tramples them as he says << Celebration seems a waste of time. There is much we have to learn. Much we must do in order to get ahead. There is no time for these celebrations. >>
Rhodya gives him a grin, but it's a muted one. "Ah-ha. You /are/ having trouble." And she cleverly spooled it out of him. She tilts her head, analyzing W'ton thoughtfully. "I don't know enough to give advice or nothin', but if Gedroth and me can help, let us know." Gedroth protests as his carefully crafted thoughts are crushed to bits, uttering a verbal cry as he mentally stoops to regather the image. He tucks them all together, nesting in them. << Since we are doing nothing else /right now,/ >> he begins, only a little miffed, << there's nothing wrong with learning something extra. >>
W'ton's eyes narrow just a teeny little bit before he's all smiles once more for his fellow weyrling. "No troubles I can't handle, sunshine," he tells her with a wink. "We're gonna be fine. Nothing to be worrying about." He looks over at Gedroth when he makes noise. "That normal?" he asks as he studies the brown. Then he looks at Dasarth who doesn't make any noise but the swish, swish, swish of his tail. "He doesn't make noise." Indeed he does not make noise. Why would he? That would be utterly beneath his dignity to cry out. << You are not doing something. I am doing something. I am always learning something. >> Nyah. I am better than you. Wait, that's just sort of there in his tone.
Gedroth leans his back against Rhodya, watching Dasarth while he wolfs up the last of his meatloaf. << I am always learning, too. Right now, I am learning about celebration. >> The irritation is gone and he seems calm already, but make no mistake: this is not a dragon that forgives and forgets. This is one that's now wondering whether this other male is a foe, and has stepped back to analyze subsequent interaction in the interest of answering that question. Rhodya plants a hand on his forehead, reflexively answering his lean. She can only blink at W'ton, though. "Is what normal?" She glances at her brown to see if he's sprouted an extra limb or something. Nope, looks fine.
"Nothing. Was nothing." W'ton looks at Dasarth and lets out a sigh before brushing some imaginary dirt from the leg of his pants. << Celebration seems unimportant >> the bronze tells the brown with a mental snort. << There is nothing to be gained from it. >> He definitely sounds firm in this conviction. << It is a waste of time. I am learning important things. >> Again his rider looks at him, but the bronze does not budge although the tail swishing does end.
The look Rhodya gives W'ton is amused, now. "May not be a problem, but you sure are acting funny. I don't think I've ever seen you really sigh before, exceptin' of course over Hattie." She winks at him. Gedroth surveys his clutchsib with head tilted. << You are arguing with me about cakes. That is not important, so what exactly are you doing now that is? >>
The look Rhodya gets back has nothing of amusement in it. W'ton's got no room for amusement this evening it would seem. "Hattie ain't- isn't...there's nothing going on there." And he must be all flustered over something because his fingers dig down into the ground and there's dirt under his fingernails and everything. He'll be unhappy when he realizes it. "You shut up," he snaps then with a glare at the bronze. Dasarth thwacks his tail against his rider's boot and stands up. He moves a few feet over and then plants himself back on the ground. << Learning. >>
Rhodya's surprise was feigned, before, but now she really is. Her eyebrows ascend to her hairline. "Of course there ain't. What, am I slandering you now to suggest you got a crush?" She softens, pauses a moment to let that sink in. "Something happen?" She's nosy, that's for sure. Gedroth isn't. Receiving that uncommunicative answer from Dasarth, he simply says, << Okay, >> and stops caring. He has meatloaf crumbs to sniff at in the sand, though he is wise enough not to impact himself by eating them.
W'ton's got a headshake all ready and he tells her, "Not saying you're...not saying you're suggesting anything. I'm saying that things have changed now and I don't imagine she's going to be wanting much to do with me no more." Because he now is attached to a stick in the mud. "Also, to be frank and risk your delicate sensibilities all this time without sex is making my brain forget how to work." Oh, and there's the annoying bronze no one gets along with either. But W'ton's not going to bring up Dasarth.
Rhodya shakes her head. She doesn't look offended, just confused. "I just don't know what's going on with you these days," she admits. "So you're talking about this stuff and I feel like I'm ten steps behind. Why would Hattie want nothin' to do with you? Say what you will, you're different with him in your head." Gedroth rolls over, exposing his belly to her hand. Hint-hint. She starts scratching obediently. "But that's happening with everybody, you know? The other day, I - I think I /talk/ different with him in my head." She pats Gedroth's ribs and gets a solid thump out of them. "Not all the time. Sometimes. And Kai gets this funny smile when he looks at Chielyth, sometimes. You wouldn't think Kai'd go soft, would ya? I don't know."
"Shells, Rhodya, if I knew what was going on I would be making more sense to myself." Maybe he's just finally catching up on being tired and that's why W'ton's unable to keep up his charming persona. "Trying to keep him in line. Trying to be sure she even still remembers me once we graduate since she's so...and Elaruth's such a little delicate thing. I'm pretty sure Dasarth's already offended her like everyone else. Why would she want to spend time with me? This ain't...me." He huffs loudly, not quite a sigh, and flexes his finger in the dirt. Dasarth's head turns and he notices the belly and while he doesn't snort he clearly is not impressed with that display. His tail aims for W'ton's boot again to go thwack and gets caught for its troubles, but that's where it stays. "Kai though...got enough problems without worrying about him."
"Just an example," Rhodya murmurs. "I'm not sayin' you have to." She looks at her dragon, smiling as he closes his eyes in the enjoyment of his belly rub. She puts her other hand onto him and doubles the rubbing. "They're babies, Winston," she says, slipping back into his old name. "They'll forget things, grow up. Elaruth ain't gonna hate you forever, and Dasarth ain't always gonna act like a kid." She doesn't hesitate to call him that, much though the bronze wouldn't like it. "But you're right. It ain't /you/. And this ain't me," she says, pausing one hand to gesture down her front with it. "Now we've got them in our heads, I think we'd be crazy to figure we'll come out the same as before. Just gotta try and land on our feet, I think, or that's what I'm aiming for."
"Oh, Rhodya, darlin'," W'ton says all at once himself again. "Elaruth don't dislike me. Far from it. You think she's the first shy woman I've wooed?" Really, what is the brownrider thinking? Maybe her brain is truly fried from Gedroth's weirdness. He is weird after all. Dasarth tugs his tail away now and stands up to amble in his ungainly way towards the lake shore to stare out at the water. One paw lifts and touches at the water for just a moment before it gets jerked back. W'ton watches this and then looks at Rhodya to wink at her. "You got it easy is all. All the rest of you. Don't have to look nearly as fine as I do. It's not easy keeping up with him and all the work and still finding time to look this good."
Rhodya laughs, but she gives out an exasperated growl at well, looking up at the sky for help. None to be had. "You, Dasarth, same thing. I /swear/ you said something about her getting offended!" And that, to Rhodya, translated into hate. Gedroth is peering up at her, curious about that growl. She repeats it for him when he catches her eye, and gives him an affectionate shake. "Anyway, what're you trying to say over there? You think I don't look good?" She fluffs her hair vainly. She may not dress as nicely as W'ton - she's got on loose trousers and an old tank top today - but she /does/ take good care of her hair.
W'ton's grin is back, easy as you please, and whatever moment of self-doubt he suffered at least on the surface is long gone. "We ain't the same thing," he tells her forcefully for all his charm is back. "I am not him. He is not me. We are together, but we /ain'/ the same." Dasarth turns to look at his rider. Forcefully. Why? Probably the hated word has been used too much, but this time the weyrling does not correct himself. "He's got a way of endearing himself to everyone," is said with a snort. For all that he's annoyed he's still watching the bronze closely to be sure nothing happens to him. Until she asks that question and then he turns a look on her that's probably the sort that would get him trouble. "Rhodya," he tells her quietly, "You look good enough to eat, darlin'." Poor man. He's going /without/ and cannot seem to help himself. By the water there's a flurry of limbs, tail, and wings as Dasarth rushes up to W'ton somewhat reminiscent of when he rushed forward on the sands. Only this time he is not pleased.
Rhodya gives him a warning look in return. Just as his charm's reviving, hers is fading away: the joke has gone too far. "Settle down," she tells him simply, curtly.
Dasarth is Not Pleased. This is Not what his rider is supposed to be doing. He is not supposed to be thinking things that are like that which make him feel ways that the bronze is not comfortable with. He's just a baby! So, he rushes up to W'ton and spreads his wings to show off the crimson underneath in a display of dominance instead of wooing. << Stop it! Stop it this instant! What are you doing? You cannot do this! Cut it out! >> Rhodya at least is spared the noise. W'ton gets all clashing metal and splashing crimson as boots stomp and destroy all they can land on. There is destruction and under it command. He is Not Allowed to feel this way. It will cease immediately. Under the onslaught W'ton's barely aware of what Rhodya says. He probably didn't even really hear it because he doesn't even look at her but just mutters, "Yea, sorry."
Gedroth can't hear what Dasarth's saying, but he can certainly sense draconic agitation over there. He rolls up from his belly rub, peering across Rhodya's lap at his clutch brother. << Rho, what's going on ? >> She puts a hand on his nose and murmurs, "Hush." She watches W'ton closely, and somewhat warily; he's got that dizzy, dragon-invaded look, and Dasarth's rush makes the reason for that obvious enough, so she decides to cut him some slack. "It's all right," she answers simply.
There's much ire to share and Dasarth radiates it although he seems to at least not be drawing the attention of any of the older dragons. Probably he's just this side of having half the Weyr wanting to know what goes on. Slowly he settles down starting with his wings drawing in and him stepping/hopping back a pace or two. Eyes that whirled dangerously ever so slowly begin to settle down. He is still not pleased, but he is not ready to lay waste now. W'ton stands up suddenly and seems to notice the dirt on his hands. Under his fingernails. Eww. He stops himself just in time from wiping his hand on his pants. "Yea, I better go," he tells her somewhat gruffly before heading off with Dasarth following him still radiating his disapproval. He doesn't even offer the slightest of farewells to his clutchsib.