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Shimmer, bright and cheerful and above his head, wasn't exactly what T'rus expected when a firm nudge from Akerth had him looking upward. Almost as soon as he noticed the gold, his own little green began to scream and hiss with territorial irritation. Akerth immediately growled and snapped his teeth at the tiny creature, a training method not quite like the one Sharkal had advised, but one that seemed to be having an effect, none the less. At least, the screaming stopped, though the green's eyes whirled an uneasy reddish orange.

That's Sharkal's firelizard. We should go see what he wants. T'rus finished giving the dragon a few last pieces of meat, throwing a couple scraps to the gold and the green as well.

I fail to see-- But the dragon did not finish his statement, interrupted by his own thoughts. Let us go. As you say, we need our alliances.

And T'rus, seeing that Captain was settled (he certainly wasn't going to bring her along, and having fed, she was likely to sleep for a blessed interval, anyway), decided not to press the matter. There were edges to Akerth's thoughts that he did not want to explore. Best to just follow Shimmer and not ask questions. Hope that this wasn't about another fight. Y'ul had not taken their little conversation well.

Poor Shark, he really did need some... help. A guiding hand. Yes. He could take him running. Teach him to defend himself. It was something to think about. It was-- a reason. Considerably more upbeat than he'd seemed when Shimmer first appeared, he followed the little gold out to Sharkal, Akerth keeping pace at his side.

T'rus, for is part, had not done any extra grooming for this little meeting. Still, he looked well enough, if not impeccable. Exhaustion, however, was starting to be evident, dark circles hinting beneath his eyes. Between Captain, Akerth and his own dark thoughts, he'd had little enough sleep of late. Certainly, there was no time during the day for rest.

But he wasn't nervous, or not in any way that showed and when Sharkal came into view his smile was as ready as ever. Akerth, for his part, considered the boy with a quite obviously measured look before settling a few feet away, leaving T'rus to walk the last few steps alone. His attention remained on the pair, however. More specifically it remained on Sharkal, who he studied without apparent affection or condemnation, his eyes whirling in their usual neutral blue.

Allowing Sharkal to get through his stumbling greeting, complete with promise of mystery gift, T'rus gave the other boy a light smack on the shoulder, somewhere between a friendly punch and the sort of affectionate pat that you'd give an obedient canine. "You've got her well trained. She came right too me." A smile for the lizard, then. "It's good to get out. Thanks for sending her."

No thanks yet, for the promised... something. He was curious, of course, but he kept that in check.

The smile was, unexpected. It was the honesty of it, really. The rare vulnerability of unexpected joy. T'rus, well, he wasn't entirely sure he knew how to smile like that. The first few days, after Akerth, perhaps. Perhaps then there'd been some light to him. Some unscripted happiness. He was over it now, for the most part. He still love Akerth, of course, but he was already learning to bury that love, to make it something that served him.

Served both of them.

That made it less painful. It was a mission they shared and Akerth was pragmatic enough not to be hurt by T'rus's readiness to use every tool available to them, even when that tool was their bond.

But Sharkal, Sharkal did not smile for an audience. From the impression T'rus got, he didn't smile much at all. It made it... interesting, that he smiled now. After a second's consideration, the brownrider decided to take it as a sign of accomplishment on his part. He was getting through. Winning. He liked winning.

The egg he accepted with a smile of his own, a smile that hinted, ever so subtly at confusion that he thought he was hiding. He had not... expected this. He liked to expect things. But, the gift. A bronze, hmm? Well, no reason for his disdain for bronze dragons to extend to their lesser cousins. It would be fitting, if he could not have one of the greater beasts as his partner, that he should have the lesser as his pet.

"Shimmer's?" he asked, studying the egg with every sign of fascination, "The best lineage then."

"Thank you, Shark. I'll be sure to take excellent care of him."

At that moment, Akerth rose, crossing the short distance between himself and his rider and snuffling at the egg with a gentle but persistent show of curiosity.

Will this one scream as well?

No. Hopefully.

"Akerth says he agrees with you, he thinks it will be a bronze."

At which point, Akerth crossed the further distance between himself and Sharkal and snuffed at him much as he had at the egg. This particular action, he chose not to explain.

"And he says thank you." Added T'rus, quickly. Anything to explain the behavior.

If Akerth were a dog, T'rus would have scruffed him. As it is, the incredibly dark look he sent the dragon was far from subtle. Akerth, for his part, ignored it.

Look at him! You're terrifying him. T'rus scolded, placing a hand on the dragon's neck and nudging him none-to-gently away from Sharkal.

I am not terrifying him. I am examining him. He is terrifying himself. The dragon responded, though he allowed himself to be pushed back.

And that, well, that was actually a good point. And it cut down to the heart of T'rus's worries about Sharkal. The guy was just too jumpy. You looked like prey, people treated you like prey. And Shark screamed prey. No wonder the guy was always getting himself beat up on.

"I'll show him to you as soon as he hatches." He promised, tucking the bronze egg into his belt pouch where it would be comfortably cushioned and near the warmth of his skin. He'd see it properly settled as soon as he was done with Sharkal. But now, there was the issue of getting him over his dragon aversion.

"Listen, Shark. I hate to ask, but I was just about oil Akerth when you called." He gave the dragon's hide a rough pat in a 'see how safe he is' gesture. "Think you could help me out?"

Well, that'd certainly gone more easily than he'd expected. Not that T'rus was one to complain when things went his way. Life was work, sure. But if it didn't have to be? All the better.

"The way I see it--" he said, throwing an arm casually around Sharkal's shoulders, and, for good measure, gripping said weyrbrats arm in an attempt to keep him from sidling away as he had last time. "You aren't skipping chores. You are a dutiful Weyr resident assisting a dragonrider in the execution of his responsibilities. Which, as I understand it, is the responsibility of anyone loyal to the Weyr."

His hold on Sharkal wasn't what one would call forceful, but there was strength behind the light pressure, a readiness for a more powerful grip should the situation require. For the time being, he was merely leading the two of them toward the barracks, outside of which oil was usually readily at hand. And it wasn't that he was being affectionate. No. Not really. Sure it might seem that way to the idiot casual observer. But what he was doing was training Sharkal. Getting him used to being touched, showing him he didn't need to be flinching all the time. He was assisting an ally. Nothing weird about that. Not at all. Nope.

If it worked, it'd be a boon to both of them. Sharkal would present a less obvious target (and he was apparently willing to believe, however naively that Shark had not earned his wounds) and he'd-- umm--

He'd prove again, that he was not a target. That he Sharkal had never deserved what'd been done to him. That they were Sharkal was better than those that had bullied him.

That was, he'd have an ally that was capable of moving in society with a certain level of grace. Always a good thing. Right.

Of course, the fact that Shark looked more than a little like he saw death looming large merely because T'rus had an arm around his shoulders was exactly the reason that arm was there in the first place. The only reason. Purely for Sharkal's benefit with no ulterior motives. Yep. That was T'rus. Always a giver.

"Sharkal--" A sigh wrapped itself around the name, giving it a tired weight. T'rus did remove his arm though, walking in silence for a moment while he chewed over how best to put his thoughts without damaging what progress had been made. In so many ways, dealing with Shark was easy, and T'rus wasn't about to sacrifice such a simple alliance for the sake of the ally's mental state. And still--

And still.

"You do always look like you're about to bolt. I'm on your side. I hope you know that." He gave Shark a rough pat on the arm then, but didn't try to hold onto him again.

And look, they'd reached their destination. Outside the barracks oil was set up for those weyrlings that needed it. In truth, Akerth was not yet itchy, but no reason not to get a jump on the chore when the opportunity to serve two goals at once existed. "Alright then. Lets get to work."

Akerth, always one to oblige, sat, his wings slightly spread, his neck raised. He looked like he was posing for a portrait. You think this will take his fear?

Can't hurt. He's not going to attract a dragon if he's standing on the sands with his eyes on his feet ready to run. T'rus gave the dragon a thump on the shoulder very like the sort he'd given Shark earlier. Apparently, when he wanted to be, he was just a physical person.

I am often surprised by what attracts my kin. Akerth replied, blandly.

Deciding that he hadn't heard the mumble, but also deciding, for no particular reason, dammit that now was probably a good time to end the touch experiment, T'rus, shockingly enough, kept his hands to himself as he knelt beside his dragon and grabbed a couple of pots of oil that the two of them could share.

"You were right, earlier. It's a bit like oiling a big firelizard," he commented, as he began to work on Akerth's neck. "But easier, because you don't need to worry about hurting Akerth. He's got a thick hide, and he'll let me know if he's uncomfortable."

And, being a stern, but not ill tempered dragon, Akerth was not likely to transmit that particular message by snapping at the guilty party. He was more likely to give a lecture on what'd gone wrong and proper procedure in the future.

You will be careful of my wings. Added Akerth, without preamble or warning. He didn't even turn to look at Sharkal as he spoke. He had a voice like a stone wall, dry, rough, and insurmountable. Begin.

T'rus, unaware of Akerth's sudden sociability, continued at his task.