Bruises and sore spots
It is a spring afternoon, 16:58 of day 9, month 5, turn 19 of Interval 10.
Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
The feeding grounds are fenced off from the rest of the Weyr with a high, wooden fence and gate, providing plenty of space for the resident herdbeasts -- bovines, in particular -- to ramble about. The vast majority of the animals are for draconic consumption, but some of the more valuable varieties are penned away from those designated to be dragon food. Ovines and porcines are a bit more useful to humans than to the dragons that would happily dine on them and are kept further away from the bovines and closer to the stables as a result. There's plenty of grass to feed them, while herders and stablehands regularly add feed to the troughs along the eastern fence. The soil turns to mud as one gets closer to where the area butts up agains the lake, which doubles as a watering hold for the animals.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Stables
Two and a half months old, and many of the larger dragonets are hunting for themselves. The smaller ones are still on 'watch and learn' practice. That's probably why Chielyth and Kai are here, just on the other side of the fence. The green is crouched as low as she can get, eyes fastened on the uncertain herdbeasts and tail lashing, while Kai sits beside her on the grass, facing away from the fence with an arm draped over her back. He's got a hide propped up on his knees and scowls as he reads it, finger leading the way and mouth silently sounding out the words.
Bennath's alone when he sweeps up over the feeding grounds, straps off. Chielyth would see him. B'kaiv probably isn't likely to notice anything with his nose burried in that hide. But Phara's there, too, coming across the ground to watch Benny feed. It's been almost a month since this dress-wearing thing started, and she doesn't seem inclined to stop any time soon, if the white summer dress she wears is any indication. It's belted around her waist with a purple sash, and a complimentary lavendar flower has been pinned behind her ear. Yep, she's even got sensible flats on. Kai gets a glance, but she makes no greeting. She leans against the fence, silent. Bennath? Not so much. << Hello, doll! Aren't you going to come eat? >>
<< Imoth says I am too small! >> Chielyth bubbles back at Bennath, cheerful as always. << He says I am to watch the older dragons. If you are going to hunt, that will be better than just watching them stand there. >> She rises onto her haunches, displacing Kai's arm; he glances at her, then past her to the bluerider whereupon his scowl deepens. Still he calls over a reluctant, "Ma'am," and waits for her eyes to look his way before adding the salute that's to accompany.
There's a chortle accompanied by a mental laugh from Bennath. << Would you like to try? I will hold one down for you. >> He gives her an image - a small herdbeast trapped beneath his paws, and the points on its neck where the little green must bite to deliver the kill. Pretty low-risk hunting. << Or you could watch, if you are not hungry. >> Phara has let her hands rest against the rail. The ma'am has her attention however and she looks over and grins at B'kaiv, a very genuine grin at that. "Hey there. Studying?"
<< I am not hungry, >> the little green agrees. << But I will watch you do it! >> She shares her crude versions of older dragons she's observed, identifiable more by their feel than by image: all of them swooped down, and one or two of them carried their prey away. B'kaiv doesn't return that grin - not surprising - but continues to scowl, replaces his arm on Chielyth. "Yeah." He's assigned to the harper for extra lessons, so studying is what fills most of his day.
Phara refuses to be detoured by that scowl. "How is it going?" Bennath gently nudges Chielyth's image, trying to tug out details and define the imagry. Then his mind focuses onto the milling herd, picking his mark and swooping down on it. He doesn't bother carrying this one off. He crushes its neck efficiently with his jaws before eating. Simple and neat for the little green's benefit.
Chielyth continues blithely, ignoring the attempts to refine her images << I am not big enough to swoop. Imoth says NO. So does Kai. Oh, you got one! >> Her mind fills with birdsong and sunshine for applause. << Good job, Bennath! >> Everyone needs a cheering section. Even Kai, who is the opposite of cheerful. "It's goin'," he says dismissively. "Chielyth's s'posed t' watch the big ones hunt, even if she ain't gonna be big enough t' do it herself for another month." Which Phara would already know, what with being one of the weyrlingmasters.
Phara doesn't seem to agree on Chielyth being too small. "Ben's no bigger than a green," she points out. "She's plenty large enough to make a kill so long as one of the adults caught it for her first. When they start flying, one of our dragons will seperate one out and get it cornered so the young dragons can catch it without worrying about the herd. Well. That's how they did it for our class. Not sure how Jantha wants to do this. Not Telgar, after all." Bennath continues to laugh at Chielyth. << As will you, doll, when you're older. >>
"But -she- ain't no bigger'n one of /them/," Kai argues, jerking his head first at his green, then the herdbeasts. "An' they got hooves. I ain't gonna risk her gettin' kicked 'til Jantha says it's all right." Chielyth tears her eyes from Bennath's kill long enough to nudge affectionately at Kai's side and wrap her tail about his feet. << I am not older yet. But soon? >> She shares half-remembered muddy images, herself first twice Imoth's size, then more properly proportioned, though the feeling of 'Kai' remains as large throughout.
"That's true," Phara agrees. "She'll get bigger." It would seem she's not ready to relinquish her grin just yet. Bennath gives Chielyth back an image of her the same size as he is now, perhaps slightly smaller. Kai remains as small as his rider, a third their own height at the shoulder.
B'kaiv only grunts at this obvious bit of knowledge and tries turning back to his studying, drawing a shell of Not Paying Attention To You around him like a shawl. << You're silly, >> Chielyth declares happily, and makes mental-Kai bigger, as big as he is now so her shoulder comes to his chest. << Imoth is silly too. >> Kai will never ever ever be smaller than her!
Phara considers B'kaiv and sighs. Her cheerfulness wanes when he dismisses her again, her brow pinching in frustration. It smooths away again after a moment. "Did you get to dance with anyone at the First Day?" She asks him, still trying. Bennath? Firmly shrinks Kai down. << You are sillier, Chielyth. You will carry him one day. He will not grow. He is as big as humans get. You are still young. You will be as big as I am. Trust me. >>
The weyrling's jaw juts, but after a pause long enough to demonstrate what a favor he's bestowing, blows out his breath and looks back at Phara again. "Yeah. Weren't able t' stay real long. Chielyth still don't like me leaving her much." Not that he protests this restriction very much. << Silly silly silly! >> Chielyth crows happily, wriggling in both body and mind. Mental Kai grows, shrinks, is bigger than Phara, then smaller than herself. Then she gives him a crude bronze tail, and after a moment's thought, shakily-drawn wings.
Phara nods her head, ignoring his rudeness. "That's good. I'm glad you were able. I hope it was fun." Bennath seems to be done with his meal and regards Chielyth with amusmenet, lifting his head away from gnawed bones and bits of discarded parts. << Yours is a happy nature, little one. >> Phara pushes away from the fence and glances aside at B'kaiv one last time. "Doesn't make a difference, does it?" she says quietly and then sighs. "I could get lost Between some night and you'd be the head of the celebratory committee."
"It were," Kai agrees warily, though he deigns to nod, just once. "Heard there was drinks." As for her statement, he only shrugs and looks back at his hide in case it's slipped away. It hasn't. Chielyth blats at Bennath, causing one or two of the beasts to lift their head and look at her, but she only snuggles closer to her Kai, shoving against him until he rocks. << I'm me! Kai does not have a... happy nature. He likes to grumble and moan. >> When she doesn't have to use pictures her images are much clearer: Kai feels like an impending thunderstorm, or the biggest bull in the pasture - the one that grazes quietly until he's upset, then snorts and charges. << Isn't he perfect? >>
Phara nods her head, accepting the things he doesn't say as readily as the things he does. "Yeah, thought so." She lifts her chin, glances up at the sky moodily. Bennath considers Chielyth, and offers his back. Fire, burning on the inside but holding it in, dark moods, bright sunshine. Lots of pockets. << They are perfect for us. Mine likes yours. I do not understand why. He makes her hurt. I do not like it. I wish she'd stay away from him. >>
B'kaiv doesn't look at her again, but returns to his laborious study of the hide in his lap, pointing finger and silently mouthed words and all. At his side Chielyth wriggles again, hopping a little onto her hind legs in an attempt to see better. << He wishes she would too, >> she admits with a child's utter lack of guile. << But I do not want you to stay away. I want to see you hunt again! >> Rah rah rah cheers the sunshine in her mind.
The rumors of the Weyrleader's current appearance have probably proceeded him, but if not, and maybe even if so, he's a bit of a sight at the moment. He's got a black eye and his lip was busted and is starting to heal up; a bruise along his jaw is already starting to turn yellow under the scruff. Despite this, R'uen wanders toward the pens with an easy gait, light even. And despite the two people he's wandering towards, he offers a cheery, "Hey," as if he has no idea they're likely to be in the middle of some unpleasantness.
Phara is always in the middle of some unpleasantness. She lowers her gaze from the sky just in time to see R'uen, and sucks in a surprised breath at his approach. "/Fardles/." One thing to hear about the Weyrleader, and another to see it in person. "Looks like I've found the hand that beat up T'rev." Bennath rumbles to Chielyth. << One more, >> he agrees easily and launches to look for another kill.
It's not the cheery hey that catches Kai's attention, but that shocked expletive. He looks up again, follows Phara's gaze to the Weyrleader, and blinks, once. "What'n shells happened t' -you-? --Sir?" He tags the last on belatedly, and just as belatedly remembers to salute. Ish. "You been brawlin'?" Of course he sounds regretful about missing the party. Chielyth twists around to see what the fuss is and wriggles her delight at all the pretty colors. << He looks just like Kai wants W'ton to look! >> she announces happily. /Such/ a clever Weyrleader, to be a model!
R'uen doesn't seem to care much whether B'kaiv salutes or not. "Yeah, bit of brawling. All in good fun," he laughs, face a bit crooked with all the bruising, but his mood seems to be in good health. "Please tell me he looks worse than I do," he tacks on about T'rev, flashing a smirk at Phara. "How are things going here? She studying?" There's a tilt of his head toward Chielyth and then toward Bennath.
Phara just pouts. "Everyone gets a good fight but me. I'm ready to find myself a good tavern and just start breaking things. It'd be worth the marks for repairs to blow off the steam." Which was probably the idea behind Rev's fight as well. "You both look awful. Not even half as sexy. I mean, how am I supposed to sleep with a man who looks like kissing him would probably cause him more pain than pleasure?" Grump grump grump. "Chielyth admires your colors," she notes with a grin. A look is flashed to B'kaiv with those words. The rest of the message seems to have been passed on as well. << Mine wouldn't mind coloring W'ton either, >> he informs her, as innocent as a summer sky.
"Yeah," Kai answers about Chielyth, though he looks as though he'd dearly love to ask about T'rev. But there are other things to ask: "What rules'd you use?" And more importantly, "Who won?" He doesn't glance over at Phara, either before or after her quick look, but Chielyth crouches to wiggle at R'uen, the wing that isn't on Kai's side flailing wildly. << They should! >> she glees, bounce bounce. << Then they would both be happy! >>
R'uen just shakes his head for Phara's words, first at blowing off steam and then the pain comment. Head bowed, eyes closed, he chuckles. "My colors?" he asks, lifting his head and catching on a beat later. He runs his fingers along the eyebrow over his black eye; it doesn't hurt to touch that part, at least not so much. "Yeah." As for the important facts. "I think the only rule was 'don't hold back'." Which breaks the first rule of fight club, which is not to talk about fight club. "And, I'd say we both won. But man, he got me good a few times." And a few more, likely. With all her excitement, Chielyth gets what was probably supposed to be a winning grin, but likely comes off a little more gruesome than he means it to.
B'kaiv blows out a regretful breath, shakes his head slowly. "Ain't had a decent fight in." A look to Chielyth cuts him off right then and there. "You want t' spar sometime, sir, you just let me know." The green wriggles again, then is too overcome by excitement to hold still any longer and goes crow hopping in a wide circle around R'uen. Kai points out as though it weren't patently obvious, "She's happy," and even has a tiny smile for his equally tiny lifemate.
Bennath sighs regretfully. << Mine cannot, just as yours cannot. There are rules that have to be followed. They cannot make colors on other people. >> "Yeah, but you got him back a few good ones too," Phara drawls. "I'd say you both look like punching bags." Phara leans back against the rail, obviously intent on staying again. Chielyth's exhuberance makes her smile.
"Tell ya what, Phara. Let me heal up and I swear I'll let you beat on me a bit," R'uen tells the bluerider, smirking but still and making the seriousness of his offer a little uncertain. "You would probably rip me to pieces," Rev says to B'kaiv, sizing up the man who might match him in height but outstrips him in bulk. "It was one of the better decisions I've made. New plan: making good decisions." He sets his hands to his pockets idly and spins around as Chielyth circles him, facing her all the while.
"I'd go easy on you," Kai promises magnanimously, and why shouldn't he be? Chielyth's ecstatic, and his mentor just promised him the opportunity to add to that collection of pretty colors. Sort of. "Chielyth!" he adds, louder, and she twists away from an almost-too-close encounter with Phara's legs to lollop back into arms' reach. "You gonna do it again, lemme know?" Almost plaintive, that request.
Phara sizes Rev up and sighs. "You'd hold back," she tells R'uen dismissively. "So would T'rev, I'd wager." Not that anyone'd be willing to bet on T'rev giving her a good tussle or not. She glances between Kai and Rev and pouts completely. Says the girl in the pretty dress, "Nobody's going to take on a girl in a square fight. They're either afraid to hurt her or afraid she'll win." Bennath gives up on that second kill. He wasn't actually hungry anyways and Chielyth's no longer looking. He comes up to the fence and lowers his head over it, nuzzling Phara. She grins at him, then laughs, and gives his jaw a pat.
"When I get a bit prettier," R'uen tells the weyrling. "Can give it a try at least. I may have had enough flying at my head for the moment." But B'kaiv's yearning is met with sympathy. And Rev's formulating something. A hand pulls out of his pocket to shake a finger at nothing, keeping the rhythm of thinking. "Actually... a punching bag might be a good idea, Phara." He credits her with it even if it isn't precisely what she said. "You know, a big heavy one, something you could really pound on when you feel like throwing a punch. For the weyrlings. Or maybe somewhere for everyone." But he looks the bluerider then, narrowing his eyes, scrutinizing. "I guess it depends what you want the fight for. Hitting, getting hit or just pitting yourself against someone."
"It ain't right t' hit women," Kai says stoutly, though he's too busy trying to settle Chielyth to actually -look- at Phara. "Punching bag, though... Yeah, s'a good idea, sir." Thus dropping credit squarely back onto Rev's shoulders. "We're supposed t' start fightin' lessons in a couple sevens; it'd be somethin' for everybody t' practice on." Chielyth squeals and tries to head-butt him; he rolls out of the way (sorry, forgotten hide!) and up to his feet, glowers down at her with fists planted on his hips. "Don't you go doin' that t' me. You want t' wrestle, go find Telyath or somebody."
Phara shrugs. "It's only wrong to hit women when they can't defend themselves, B'kaiv. You've got to stop looking at people for their genders." It's said off-hand, like she's not actually thinking about it. Probably something she's had to say to W'ton a few (dozen) times. "You know, Rev," she says with much more interest. "A punching bag sounds like a /great/ idea." Yeah, Phara hasn't forgotten about that hide. "B'kaiv, mind that!" She growls, "Hides are for everyone, not just for you."
"I don't think I could actually hit you, Phara. I just... I'm not much for throwing punces in general. And really, the punching bag would be a blessing to my pretty face, since now it seems like you all are lining up to get a crack at me." It could probably be taken the wrong way, everyone so eager to hit him, but R'uen just laughs. "I'll see about getting something made. - But what's this about a hide?" Rev didn't even notice it before, but he does now.
Stubbornly (and surely no one is surprised by this) Kai repeats, "It ain't right t' hit women." As though that were the end-all and be-all of the matter. At her scold he glares up from his Chielyth-soothing and spares the attention to search the ground for that hide. "Move," he tells Chielyth and she does, freeing the thing from under one foot. More put upon than anyone could -possibly- understand he shakes out the hide and roughly rolls it, shoves it under one arm. "Nothin', sir. Just - Weyrlingmaster still got me doin' them extra lessons."
Phara grins at Rev. "Aww, it's okay, Rev. I know you wouldn't want to fuss my pretty face." She pats her cheeks cheerfully. "Well. Punching bag would be the thing, I'd say there's been a lot of tension building up around here. Might be the way to go. Or, I dunno, maybe a wrestling competition of some sort. Nobody squawks when you make it a competition." B'kaiv gets a beady eye for his continued treatment of the hide and she grinds her teeth together, giving R'uen a DO SOMETHING? look.
That do something look? Yeah, Rev gives Phara a 'just a piece of hide, relax' look. Looks can say plenty sometimes. His mouth, however, says, "Wrestling would be good, too." There's a beat of consideration and then, "You might have more luck getting someone to wrestle with you, Phara. Last I checked, wrestling with girls was still okay." He lifts a brow to B'kaiv to make sure there are no objections. His grin doesn't expect any.
"Wrestlin's th' same as hittin'," B'kaiv declares in defiance of R'uen's expectations, and keeps his eyes firmly on Chielyth. She's given up trying to wrestle with him and is pouncing on some horrible threatening rocks instead, growling. Still, she could break out into violence (or more exuberance) at any moment. "I been writin' letters like you said, sir," he adds, and dares a hasty glance at the bronzerider. "It's loads better'n them stupid stories about seashells."
Thanks for the backup, Rev. Ah, a conversation in looks. She sighs, defeated and throws up her hands. She turns her face away and ignores the both of them for awhile. Take that! [Phara]
If she's going to be all mopey, R'uen will wander over toward Phara and sling an arm over her shoulders, or try at least. And if she lets him, he might even tighten that arm, like he'll threaten a headlock. "What do you think, Phara? Is it the same?" He gives her a big, lopsided grin. And while Chielyth continues to be the most adorable thing at the pens, it's the letters to which Rev nods. "I'm glad it's working out. I wrote letters during weyrlinghood. It helped. Not with the reading and writing, that was okay to start with, but with being separated from people."
B'kaiv quirks a wry, crooked smile at the other man, his attention split between the other two and Chielyth. "Red dress?" he asks, bends down to take one of those rocks and huzz it away from the fence. Chielyth squeals again and bounds after it, displaying either native instinct or long hours spent watching the older dragons hunt. Or both! "Should write t' my family, maybe, tell 'em I Impressed and all."
Phara screws up her face, one eye closing. "Of course it's not the same. Won't convince him though." Her eye brows raise. "I write letters to everyone. Back home to my parents, to my brothers, to friends at other Weyrs. Good way to keep in touch when you can't run off and see everyone necessarily." She studies Kai and glances at Rev. "Red dress?" Full of implication. Uh-huh, she remembers Tiriana's red dress. "You haven't told them?" she says in surprise.
"It's always the red dress," R'uen grins over at the weyrling. But when he realizes that Phara remembers the dress, remembers who wore it, he hides his expression to turn away and cough into his fist. Totally smooth. Unnecessary, too. But then forget coughing, he's blinking at B'kaiv. "You haven't told your family yet? What's keeping you from it?" He says it just when Phara does, because nothing makes a person feel comfortable like a chorus of questions.
While Chielyth growls and harasses the evil bad rock Kai only folds his arms across his chest, glowering at them equally. Well, almost equally. "They weren't expectin' t' hear from me 'til spring, prob'ly," he mutters. But of course it -is- spring, and he greets this burst of logic with another scowl and by kicking another rock. Chielyth clearly debates chasing this one and letting her current prey bleed out, decides in favor of motion and gallops awkwardly after. Even more quietly, "Dunno. Just... ain't."
Phara slides her arm delicately around R'uen's waist, gives him a very gentle squeaze just in case his bruises are more extensive than she can see. And then her arm falls away. "Sounds like it's about time you did, then," she tells B'kaiv gently, even if he is glaring. "Bet they'll be mighty proud of you."
The bruises are more extensive and while R'uen doesn't shy away from Phara's arm, he does shift a bit to try to keep it from resting -right- on that spot. He gives her a squeeze back and even if she lets her arm drop, his stays lazily over her shoulders. "It's hard to put into words, too. 'Hey mom, hey dad. I impressed.' It just doesn't really cover it." That much is for B'kaiv.
"She's green," Kai points out for the deaf and blind in the audience. Even this fact isn't enough to keep a smile from budding as he watches Chielyth, though, and he stoops to bounce a third rock along the ground and send her after her third kill. He drops R'uen a nod - exactly, yes - and stands, shifting his hide from one arm to the other. "I just... I got t' think about it."
Phara makes a face. "I didn't have to tell my folks. Aunt Mirida was mighty embarrassed to have to tell them I got Searched out from under her nose. And then when I went home we talked about it and V'ran was there when I Impressed so he got to tell Ma and Da." For Kai's comment, her eyebrow raises. "Green she may be. And one of the finest greens out of the whole clutch. Besides, greens are some of the best fighting dragons on Pern." But she can understand needing to think so she lets it go and falls silent.
"Maybe we could collect them for you. Your folks," R'uen suggests. "Then there isn't much that needs saying. Plus then they could -see- her because, well..." The weyrleader watches the little green, his already lopsided mouth pulling a bit moreso. "She's quite a sight. Don't think pen and paper could do her justice. The whole package."
When Kai says, "She's perfect," Chielyth loops around back to him, giving her last rock nothing but a graze and promise of death and mayhem later. "Maybe," he agrees neutrally to either or both of the other riders, though of course he has to point out, "She ain't gonna be fightin' nothin'. 'Cept maybe one of them cows, in a month." In the same breath he adds, "Should get goin' - got t' put this," he shrugs the arm with its hide, "Away before I go eat."
Phara glances aside at R'uen and nods her head. "We could at that, if you told us their names. Might be nice to at least see them, yeah?" And as for the green fighting? "She'll fight. Not real Thread, but there's always the Weyr games. And she'll do well at them, too, if I've any eye." And then she's nodding. "Have a good evening, B'kaiv. I'll see you at drills tomorrow." Oh, he must be ecstatic about that.
"Well, let me know," Rev tells B'kaiv. "Seems like the sort of thing a mentor'd be suited for. Wouldn't want to freak them out, though." Either with the knot or the face. "I should probably get going, too," he adds, finally drawing his arm from Phara's shoulder. "Drinks sometime soon?" he suggests to the bluerider.
B'kaiv doesn't exactly leap about in boundless joy at Phara's reminder, but he does grunt. And salute. "C'mon," he adds to Chielyth, and the pair head back to the barracks, him trudging and her prancing, still frisky despite her exercise.
Whew, that'd be something, Weyrleader of Fort showing up to home. Should ask him, maybe, what I ought to say. They was probably expecting me home by now. But how'm I supposed to put something like her into /words/? But she's green. And... and /green/.
Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
The feeding grounds are fenced off from the rest of the Weyr with a high, wooden fence and gate, providing plenty of space for the resident herdbeasts -- bovines, in particular -- to ramble about. The vast majority of the animals are for draconic consumption, but some of the more valuable varieties are penned away from those designated to be dragon food. Ovines and porcines are a bit more useful to humans than to the dragons that would happily dine on them and are kept further away from the bovines and closer to the stables as a result. There's plenty of grass to feed them, while herders and stablehands regularly add feed to the troughs along the eastern fence. The soil turns to mud as one gets closer to where the area butts up agains the lake, which doubles as a watering hold for the animals.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Stables
Two and a half months old, and many of the larger dragonets are hunting for themselves. The smaller ones are still on 'watch and learn' practice. That's probably why Chielyth and Kai are here, just on the other side of the fence. The green is crouched as low as she can get, eyes fastened on the uncertain herdbeasts and tail lashing, while Kai sits beside her on the grass, facing away from the fence with an arm draped over her back. He's got a hide propped up on his knees and scowls as he reads it, finger leading the way and mouth silently sounding out the words.
Bennath's alone when he sweeps up over the feeding grounds, straps off. Chielyth would see him. B'kaiv probably isn't likely to notice anything with his nose burried in that hide. But Phara's there, too, coming across the ground to watch Benny feed. It's been almost a month since this dress-wearing thing started, and she doesn't seem inclined to stop any time soon, if the white summer dress she wears is any indication. It's belted around her waist with a purple sash, and a complimentary lavendar flower has been pinned behind her ear. Yep, she's even got sensible flats on. Kai gets a glance, but she makes no greeting. She leans against the fence, silent. Bennath? Not so much. << Hello, doll! Aren't you going to come eat? >>
<< Imoth says I am too small! >> Chielyth bubbles back at Bennath, cheerful as always. << He says I am to watch the older dragons. If you are going to hunt, that will be better than just watching them stand there. >> She rises onto her haunches, displacing Kai's arm; he glances at her, then past her to the bluerider whereupon his scowl deepens. Still he calls over a reluctant, "Ma'am," and waits for her eyes to look his way before adding the salute that's to accompany.
There's a chortle accompanied by a mental laugh from Bennath. << Would you like to try? I will hold one down for you. >> He gives her an image - a small herdbeast trapped beneath his paws, and the points on its neck where the little green must bite to deliver the kill. Pretty low-risk hunting. << Or you could watch, if you are not hungry. >> Phara has let her hands rest against the rail. The ma'am has her attention however and she looks over and grins at B'kaiv, a very genuine grin at that. "Hey there. Studying?"
<< I am not hungry, >> the little green agrees. << But I will watch you do it! >> She shares her crude versions of older dragons she's observed, identifiable more by their feel than by image: all of them swooped down, and one or two of them carried their prey away. B'kaiv doesn't return that grin - not surprising - but continues to scowl, replaces his arm on Chielyth. "Yeah." He's assigned to the harper for extra lessons, so studying is what fills most of his day.
Phara refuses to be detoured by that scowl. "How is it going?" Bennath gently nudges Chielyth's image, trying to tug out details and define the imagry. Then his mind focuses onto the milling herd, picking his mark and swooping down on it. He doesn't bother carrying this one off. He crushes its neck efficiently with his jaws before eating. Simple and neat for the little green's benefit.
Chielyth continues blithely, ignoring the attempts to refine her images << I am not big enough to swoop. Imoth says NO. So does Kai. Oh, you got one! >> Her mind fills with birdsong and sunshine for applause. << Good job, Bennath! >> Everyone needs a cheering section. Even Kai, who is the opposite of cheerful. "It's goin'," he says dismissively. "Chielyth's s'posed t' watch the big ones hunt, even if she ain't gonna be big enough t' do it herself for another month." Which Phara would already know, what with being one of the weyrlingmasters.
Phara doesn't seem to agree on Chielyth being too small. "Ben's no bigger than a green," she points out. "She's plenty large enough to make a kill so long as one of the adults caught it for her first. When they start flying, one of our dragons will seperate one out and get it cornered so the young dragons can catch it without worrying about the herd. Well. That's how they did it for our class. Not sure how Jantha wants to do this. Not Telgar, after all." Bennath continues to laugh at Chielyth. << As will you, doll, when you're older. >>
"But -she- ain't no bigger'n one of /them/," Kai argues, jerking his head first at his green, then the herdbeasts. "An' they got hooves. I ain't gonna risk her gettin' kicked 'til Jantha says it's all right." Chielyth tears her eyes from Bennath's kill long enough to nudge affectionately at Kai's side and wrap her tail about his feet. << I am not older yet. But soon? >> She shares half-remembered muddy images, herself first twice Imoth's size, then more properly proportioned, though the feeling of 'Kai' remains as large throughout.
"That's true," Phara agrees. "She'll get bigger." It would seem she's not ready to relinquish her grin just yet. Bennath gives Chielyth back an image of her the same size as he is now, perhaps slightly smaller. Kai remains as small as his rider, a third their own height at the shoulder.
B'kaiv only grunts at this obvious bit of knowledge and tries turning back to his studying, drawing a shell of Not Paying Attention To You around him like a shawl. << You're silly, >> Chielyth declares happily, and makes mental-Kai bigger, as big as he is now so her shoulder comes to his chest. << Imoth is silly too. >> Kai will never ever ever be smaller than her!
Phara considers B'kaiv and sighs. Her cheerfulness wanes when he dismisses her again, her brow pinching in frustration. It smooths away again after a moment. "Did you get to dance with anyone at the First Day?" She asks him, still trying. Bennath? Firmly shrinks Kai down. << You are sillier, Chielyth. You will carry him one day. He will not grow. He is as big as humans get. You are still young. You will be as big as I am. Trust me. >>
The weyrling's jaw juts, but after a pause long enough to demonstrate what a favor he's bestowing, blows out his breath and looks back at Phara again. "Yeah. Weren't able t' stay real long. Chielyth still don't like me leaving her much." Not that he protests this restriction very much. << Silly silly silly! >> Chielyth crows happily, wriggling in both body and mind. Mental Kai grows, shrinks, is bigger than Phara, then smaller than herself. Then she gives him a crude bronze tail, and after a moment's thought, shakily-drawn wings.
Phara nods her head, ignoring his rudeness. "That's good. I'm glad you were able. I hope it was fun." Bennath seems to be done with his meal and regards Chielyth with amusmenet, lifting his head away from gnawed bones and bits of discarded parts. << Yours is a happy nature, little one. >> Phara pushes away from the fence and glances aside at B'kaiv one last time. "Doesn't make a difference, does it?" she says quietly and then sighs. "I could get lost Between some night and you'd be the head of the celebratory committee."
"It were," Kai agrees warily, though he deigns to nod, just once. "Heard there was drinks." As for her statement, he only shrugs and looks back at his hide in case it's slipped away. It hasn't. Chielyth blats at Bennath, causing one or two of the beasts to lift their head and look at her, but she only snuggles closer to her Kai, shoving against him until he rocks. << I'm me! Kai does not have a... happy nature. He likes to grumble and moan. >> When she doesn't have to use pictures her images are much clearer: Kai feels like an impending thunderstorm, or the biggest bull in the pasture - the one that grazes quietly until he's upset, then snorts and charges. << Isn't he perfect? >>
Phara nods her head, accepting the things he doesn't say as readily as the things he does. "Yeah, thought so." She lifts her chin, glances up at the sky moodily. Bennath considers Chielyth, and offers his back. Fire, burning on the inside but holding it in, dark moods, bright sunshine. Lots of pockets. << They are perfect for us. Mine likes yours. I do not understand why. He makes her hurt. I do not like it. I wish she'd stay away from him. >>
B'kaiv doesn't look at her again, but returns to his laborious study of the hide in his lap, pointing finger and silently mouthed words and all. At his side Chielyth wriggles again, hopping a little onto her hind legs in an attempt to see better. << He wishes she would too, >> she admits with a child's utter lack of guile. << But I do not want you to stay away. I want to see you hunt again! >> Rah rah rah cheers the sunshine in her mind.
The rumors of the Weyrleader's current appearance have probably proceeded him, but if not, and maybe even if so, he's a bit of a sight at the moment. He's got a black eye and his lip was busted and is starting to heal up; a bruise along his jaw is already starting to turn yellow under the scruff. Despite this, R'uen wanders toward the pens with an easy gait, light even. And despite the two people he's wandering towards, he offers a cheery, "Hey," as if he has no idea they're likely to be in the middle of some unpleasantness.
Phara is always in the middle of some unpleasantness. She lowers her gaze from the sky just in time to see R'uen, and sucks in a surprised breath at his approach. "/Fardles/." One thing to hear about the Weyrleader, and another to see it in person. "Looks like I've found the hand that beat up T'rev." Bennath rumbles to Chielyth. << One more, >> he agrees easily and launches to look for another kill.
It's not the cheery hey that catches Kai's attention, but that shocked expletive. He looks up again, follows Phara's gaze to the Weyrleader, and blinks, once. "What'n shells happened t' -you-? --Sir?" He tags the last on belatedly, and just as belatedly remembers to salute. Ish. "You been brawlin'?" Of course he sounds regretful about missing the party. Chielyth twists around to see what the fuss is and wriggles her delight at all the pretty colors. << He looks just like Kai wants W'ton to look! >> she announces happily. /Such/ a clever Weyrleader, to be a model!
R'uen doesn't seem to care much whether B'kaiv salutes or not. "Yeah, bit of brawling. All in good fun," he laughs, face a bit crooked with all the bruising, but his mood seems to be in good health. "Please tell me he looks worse than I do," he tacks on about T'rev, flashing a smirk at Phara. "How are things going here? She studying?" There's a tilt of his head toward Chielyth and then toward Bennath.
Phara just pouts. "Everyone gets a good fight but me. I'm ready to find myself a good tavern and just start breaking things. It'd be worth the marks for repairs to blow off the steam." Which was probably the idea behind Rev's fight as well. "You both look awful. Not even half as sexy. I mean, how am I supposed to sleep with a man who looks like kissing him would probably cause him more pain than pleasure?" Grump grump grump. "Chielyth admires your colors," she notes with a grin. A look is flashed to B'kaiv with those words. The rest of the message seems to have been passed on as well. << Mine wouldn't mind coloring W'ton either, >> he informs her, as innocent as a summer sky.
"Yeah," Kai answers about Chielyth, though he looks as though he'd dearly love to ask about T'rev. But there are other things to ask: "What rules'd you use?" And more importantly, "Who won?" He doesn't glance over at Phara, either before or after her quick look, but Chielyth crouches to wiggle at R'uen, the wing that isn't on Kai's side flailing wildly. << They should! >> she glees, bounce bounce. << Then they would both be happy! >>
R'uen just shakes his head for Phara's words, first at blowing off steam and then the pain comment. Head bowed, eyes closed, he chuckles. "My colors?" he asks, lifting his head and catching on a beat later. He runs his fingers along the eyebrow over his black eye; it doesn't hurt to touch that part, at least not so much. "Yeah." As for the important facts. "I think the only rule was 'don't hold back'." Which breaks the first rule of fight club, which is not to talk about fight club. "And, I'd say we both won. But man, he got me good a few times." And a few more, likely. With all her excitement, Chielyth gets what was probably supposed to be a winning grin, but likely comes off a little more gruesome than he means it to.
B'kaiv blows out a regretful breath, shakes his head slowly. "Ain't had a decent fight in." A look to Chielyth cuts him off right then and there. "You want t' spar sometime, sir, you just let me know." The green wriggles again, then is too overcome by excitement to hold still any longer and goes crow hopping in a wide circle around R'uen. Kai points out as though it weren't patently obvious, "She's happy," and even has a tiny smile for his equally tiny lifemate.
Bennath sighs regretfully. << Mine cannot, just as yours cannot. There are rules that have to be followed. They cannot make colors on other people. >> "Yeah, but you got him back a few good ones too," Phara drawls. "I'd say you both look like punching bags." Phara leans back against the rail, obviously intent on staying again. Chielyth's exhuberance makes her smile.
"Tell ya what, Phara. Let me heal up and I swear I'll let you beat on me a bit," R'uen tells the bluerider, smirking but still and making the seriousness of his offer a little uncertain. "You would probably rip me to pieces," Rev says to B'kaiv, sizing up the man who might match him in height but outstrips him in bulk. "It was one of the better decisions I've made. New plan: making good decisions." He sets his hands to his pockets idly and spins around as Chielyth circles him, facing her all the while.
"I'd go easy on you," Kai promises magnanimously, and why shouldn't he be? Chielyth's ecstatic, and his mentor just promised him the opportunity to add to that collection of pretty colors. Sort of. "Chielyth!" he adds, louder, and she twists away from an almost-too-close encounter with Phara's legs to lollop back into arms' reach. "You gonna do it again, lemme know?" Almost plaintive, that request.
Phara sizes Rev up and sighs. "You'd hold back," she tells R'uen dismissively. "So would T'rev, I'd wager." Not that anyone'd be willing to bet on T'rev giving her a good tussle or not. She glances between Kai and Rev and pouts completely. Says the girl in the pretty dress, "Nobody's going to take on a girl in a square fight. They're either afraid to hurt her or afraid she'll win." Bennath gives up on that second kill. He wasn't actually hungry anyways and Chielyth's no longer looking. He comes up to the fence and lowers his head over it, nuzzling Phara. She grins at him, then laughs, and gives his jaw a pat.
"When I get a bit prettier," R'uen tells the weyrling. "Can give it a try at least. I may have had enough flying at my head for the moment." But B'kaiv's yearning is met with sympathy. And Rev's formulating something. A hand pulls out of his pocket to shake a finger at nothing, keeping the rhythm of thinking. "Actually... a punching bag might be a good idea, Phara." He credits her with it even if it isn't precisely what she said. "You know, a big heavy one, something you could really pound on when you feel like throwing a punch. For the weyrlings. Or maybe somewhere for everyone." But he looks the bluerider then, narrowing his eyes, scrutinizing. "I guess it depends what you want the fight for. Hitting, getting hit or just pitting yourself against someone."
"It ain't right t' hit women," Kai says stoutly, though he's too busy trying to settle Chielyth to actually -look- at Phara. "Punching bag, though... Yeah, s'a good idea, sir." Thus dropping credit squarely back onto Rev's shoulders. "We're supposed t' start fightin' lessons in a couple sevens; it'd be somethin' for everybody t' practice on." Chielyth squeals and tries to head-butt him; he rolls out of the way (sorry, forgotten hide!) and up to his feet, glowers down at her with fists planted on his hips. "Don't you go doin' that t' me. You want t' wrestle, go find Telyath or somebody."
Phara shrugs. "It's only wrong to hit women when they can't defend themselves, B'kaiv. You've got to stop looking at people for their genders." It's said off-hand, like she's not actually thinking about it. Probably something she's had to say to W'ton a few (dozen) times. "You know, Rev," she says with much more interest. "A punching bag sounds like a /great/ idea." Yeah, Phara hasn't forgotten about that hide. "B'kaiv, mind that!" She growls, "Hides are for everyone, not just for you."
"I don't think I could actually hit you, Phara. I just... I'm not much for throwing punces in general. And really, the punching bag would be a blessing to my pretty face, since now it seems like you all are lining up to get a crack at me." It could probably be taken the wrong way, everyone so eager to hit him, but R'uen just laughs. "I'll see about getting something made. - But what's this about a hide?" Rev didn't even notice it before, but he does now.
Stubbornly (and surely no one is surprised by this) Kai repeats, "It ain't right t' hit women." As though that were the end-all and be-all of the matter. At her scold he glares up from his Chielyth-soothing and spares the attention to search the ground for that hide. "Move," he tells Chielyth and she does, freeing the thing from under one foot. More put upon than anyone could -possibly- understand he shakes out the hide and roughly rolls it, shoves it under one arm. "Nothin', sir. Just - Weyrlingmaster still got me doin' them extra lessons."
Phara grins at Rev. "Aww, it's okay, Rev. I know you wouldn't want to fuss my pretty face." She pats her cheeks cheerfully. "Well. Punching bag would be the thing, I'd say there's been a lot of tension building up around here. Might be the way to go. Or, I dunno, maybe a wrestling competition of some sort. Nobody squawks when you make it a competition." B'kaiv gets a beady eye for his continued treatment of the hide and she grinds her teeth together, giving R'uen a DO SOMETHING? look.
That do something look? Yeah, Rev gives Phara a 'just a piece of hide, relax' look. Looks can say plenty sometimes. His mouth, however, says, "Wrestling would be good, too." There's a beat of consideration and then, "You might have more luck getting someone to wrestle with you, Phara. Last I checked, wrestling with girls was still okay." He lifts a brow to B'kaiv to make sure there are no objections. His grin doesn't expect any.
"Wrestlin's th' same as hittin'," B'kaiv declares in defiance of R'uen's expectations, and keeps his eyes firmly on Chielyth. She's given up trying to wrestle with him and is pouncing on some horrible threatening rocks instead, growling. Still, she could break out into violence (or more exuberance) at any moment. "I been writin' letters like you said, sir," he adds, and dares a hasty glance at the bronzerider. "It's loads better'n them stupid stories about seashells."
Thanks for the backup, Rev. Ah, a conversation in looks. She sighs, defeated and throws up her hands. She turns her face away and ignores the both of them for awhile. Take that! [Phara]
If she's going to be all mopey, R'uen will wander over toward Phara and sling an arm over her shoulders, or try at least. And if she lets him, he might even tighten that arm, like he'll threaten a headlock. "What do you think, Phara? Is it the same?" He gives her a big, lopsided grin. And while Chielyth continues to be the most adorable thing at the pens, it's the letters to which Rev nods. "I'm glad it's working out. I wrote letters during weyrlinghood. It helped. Not with the reading and writing, that was okay to start with, but with being separated from people."
B'kaiv quirks a wry, crooked smile at the other man, his attention split between the other two and Chielyth. "Red dress?" he asks, bends down to take one of those rocks and huzz it away from the fence. Chielyth squeals again and bounds after it, displaying either native instinct or long hours spent watching the older dragons hunt. Or both! "Should write t' my family, maybe, tell 'em I Impressed and all."
Phara screws up her face, one eye closing. "Of course it's not the same. Won't convince him though." Her eye brows raise. "I write letters to everyone. Back home to my parents, to my brothers, to friends at other Weyrs. Good way to keep in touch when you can't run off and see everyone necessarily." She studies Kai and glances at Rev. "Red dress?" Full of implication. Uh-huh, she remembers Tiriana's red dress. "You haven't told them?" she says in surprise.
"It's always the red dress," R'uen grins over at the weyrling. But when he realizes that Phara remembers the dress, remembers who wore it, he hides his expression to turn away and cough into his fist. Totally smooth. Unnecessary, too. But then forget coughing, he's blinking at B'kaiv. "You haven't told your family yet? What's keeping you from it?" He says it just when Phara does, because nothing makes a person feel comfortable like a chorus of questions.
While Chielyth growls and harasses the evil bad rock Kai only folds his arms across his chest, glowering at them equally. Well, almost equally. "They weren't expectin' t' hear from me 'til spring, prob'ly," he mutters. But of course it -is- spring, and he greets this burst of logic with another scowl and by kicking another rock. Chielyth clearly debates chasing this one and letting her current prey bleed out, decides in favor of motion and gallops awkwardly after. Even more quietly, "Dunno. Just... ain't."
Phara slides her arm delicately around R'uen's waist, gives him a very gentle squeaze just in case his bruises are more extensive than she can see. And then her arm falls away. "Sounds like it's about time you did, then," she tells B'kaiv gently, even if he is glaring. "Bet they'll be mighty proud of you."
The bruises are more extensive and while R'uen doesn't shy away from Phara's arm, he does shift a bit to try to keep it from resting -right- on that spot. He gives her a squeeze back and even if she lets her arm drop, his stays lazily over her shoulders. "It's hard to put into words, too. 'Hey mom, hey dad. I impressed.' It just doesn't really cover it." That much is for B'kaiv.
"She's green," Kai points out for the deaf and blind in the audience. Even this fact isn't enough to keep a smile from budding as he watches Chielyth, though, and he stoops to bounce a third rock along the ground and send her after her third kill. He drops R'uen a nod - exactly, yes - and stands, shifting his hide from one arm to the other. "I just... I got t' think about it."
Phara makes a face. "I didn't have to tell my folks. Aunt Mirida was mighty embarrassed to have to tell them I got Searched out from under her nose. And then when I went home we talked about it and V'ran was there when I Impressed so he got to tell Ma and Da." For Kai's comment, her eyebrow raises. "Green she may be. And one of the finest greens out of the whole clutch. Besides, greens are some of the best fighting dragons on Pern." But she can understand needing to think so she lets it go and falls silent.
"Maybe we could collect them for you. Your folks," R'uen suggests. "Then there isn't much that needs saying. Plus then they could -see- her because, well..." The weyrleader watches the little green, his already lopsided mouth pulling a bit moreso. "She's quite a sight. Don't think pen and paper could do her justice. The whole package."
When Kai says, "She's perfect," Chielyth loops around back to him, giving her last rock nothing but a graze and promise of death and mayhem later. "Maybe," he agrees neutrally to either or both of the other riders, though of course he has to point out, "She ain't gonna be fightin' nothin'. 'Cept maybe one of them cows, in a month." In the same breath he adds, "Should get goin' - got t' put this," he shrugs the arm with its hide, "Away before I go eat."
Phara glances aside at R'uen and nods her head. "We could at that, if you told us their names. Might be nice to at least see them, yeah?" And as for the green fighting? "She'll fight. Not real Thread, but there's always the Weyr games. And she'll do well at them, too, if I've any eye." And then she's nodding. "Have a good evening, B'kaiv. I'll see you at drills tomorrow." Oh, he must be ecstatic about that.
"Well, let me know," Rev tells B'kaiv. "Seems like the sort of thing a mentor'd be suited for. Wouldn't want to freak them out, though." Either with the knot or the face. "I should probably get going, too," he adds, finally drawing his arm from Phara's shoulder. "Drinks sometime soon?" he suggests to the bluerider.
B'kaiv doesn't exactly leap about in boundless joy at Phara's reminder, but he does grunt. And salute. "C'mon," he adds to Chielyth, and the pair head back to the barracks, him trudging and her prancing, still frisky despite her exercise.
Whew, that'd be something, Weyrleader of Fort showing up to home. Should ask him, maybe, what I ought to say. They was probably expecting me home by now. But how'm I supposed to put something like her into /words/? But she's green. And... and /green/.