Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lost in contemplation of what had happened at the Hatching, S'raid almost didn't notice D'vas until he was on top of him. "What?" he said, not at all oblivious to the knowing look on the Bluerider's face. There should be no such look. Where had that look been acquired from, and why was his Wingmate wearing it? I wish to see the little ones, Galvanth informed his rider rather sulkily. No doubt he would creep away with Yvoth to do that very thing when S'raid wasn't paying close attention. That was completely irritating, of course. He wondered why the big Bronze had chosen now of all times to develop paternal instincts.

It was truly unbearable, and it had been by the slimmest margin that he had managed to convince the Bronze not to fly down to interact with the babies. He could just picture it now: Galvanth would have flown down to nuzzle that Green and Blue pair, and every sharding Trine rider in the Weyr would have gone nuts. He had wanted to meet the dragonets, and the kindly Green Yvoth had suggested to him that they could perhaps wait for the excitement of the Feast for such a thing. ... Or was that what she had suggested?

You should not leave now, S'raid. It is too early. He would return to enjoy the Feast the following evening, he decided. "D'vas. I assume that you will be attending the Hatching Feast on the morrow," he told his longtime friend and sometime minion. ... D'vas truly was his minion, and his cohort. A man he could count on to get what needed to be done done. Galvanth wanted to find Moira. Galvanth wanted to meet Serlaith. Galvanth's demands were becoming a little too rich for S'raid's tastes.

"I wonder what makes the difference," he mused aloud, frowning in thought. A successful clutch-- two successful clutches. There had been two Bronzes that he had counted, as well as the very spirited little Queen. Three Browns. That was a good, solid color. The only color to go between had been a Green, and he dismissed that out of hand. One could not call that a failure. She had only been a Green, after all... and if she hadn't found her rider, then she was no use to anyone. Wherever his Bronze was, he felt he was being very sneaky, and S'raid did not at all approve of that.

"I would never do such a terrible thing to K'la. What I should have you doing--" And the Bronzerider gave his friend and Wingrider a very stern, disapproving look,"-- is helping the Candidates shovel dung. That is certainly where your mind seems determined to reside." After a moment, his expression softened slightly. "I can only presume that you were not serious about that. You should remember that K'la is a lady, and I will not have you distressing her." After all, as ranking Bronzerider and man, it was his duty to see to it that their Wing's only woman be treated the way she ought. After all, she was so very proper. He truly approved of that.

I like Yvoth, Galvanth informed him, and S'raid got the sense that the Bronze felt protective of the Green and her rider. You should not distress her, or her rider, he said directly to D'vas. Well, his dragon had put his foot down, and S'raid felt no need to argue the point. It was, after all, how he felt. If perhaps less strongly than Galvanth. "Besides, if I ordered her to spend all of her time with you, you would undoubtedly drive her from the Wing." Sometimes D'vas had a way with women. Sometimes D'vas had a way of offending women.

It was a little give and take. "It could be the heat," he muttered, looking faintly pensive. He hardly ever wore any expression strongly. That was because he also hardly ever experienced strong emotions. But D'vas was prattling about something else now-- "What?" And what was the man's arm doing around him? "She absolutely is not. She loathes me. The feeling is mutual." Moira. Ugh, Moira. Moira, Moira, Moira. Irritating, arrogant, over the top Moira. Why was it always about her? And D'vas was still touching him. He glared at his friend, making his position on that very clear.

Some days, S'raid thought that he would have cheerfully murdered D'vas, and the itch to wrap his hands around that neck was innnnncredibly strong. Or perhaps he would have smothered D'vas with his own furs, or 'helped' him off a cliff. On days like this one, he remembered why exactly it was that he felt like that from time to time. "I have no interest in Moira," he said stiffly, not willing to waste an abundance of emotion on his 'friend'. More like minion, really, and some days he wasn't even worth that much.

Disgusting. "What I do or do not do inside of the bedroom is none of your concern, Bluerider." It was obvious, as it usually was, that he was annoyed with D'vas because he had used his rank rather than his name. "Nor do I have any overwhelming desire to hear about what you do or do not do inside of the bedroom." He could have throttled D'vas, really he could have. The man oozed sexuality, a trait which made him ever so slightly uncomfortable.

It wasn't true that he had blue balls. S'raid rarely ever felt the sort of stirring that led to that particular problem and when he did-- well, that was none of D'vas's concern. "You may wish to watch where your hands go in this Weyr," he cautioned, dead eyes showing not the slightest twinge of emotion. "They don't take kindly to your sort of... flirtation around here." Nor did he truly blame them.

She is not simply for Flying, Galvanth informed Jivith, mild irritation in his tone. It was primarily a result of S'raid's agitation, however, and he did not pursue the subject. Something blazed in S'raid's eyes, however, when J'vas mentioned that Moira might be fun in bed. "She is a child, D'vas. A mere slip of a girl. You will not consider it. I will not consider it... and that is that." She is not a child, Galvanth protested, too fond of the girl not to rise to her defense even when it was not necessary. She is my best Moira.