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When the Weyrlingmaster and his green had told Toronth to give the location of W'in's shoes to him, Toronth had agreed, though he thought that Ialluth might have missed the point of the exercise. But honestly, he wasn't going to contradict authority. That wasn't proper behaviour, and W'in didn't need more incentive to be rude and angry. So they had left quietly, and Toronth had indicated the location of one pair of sandals to W'in.

The entire episode had taken enough time that when W'in came back, the energy of the entire room had changed, and everything was...um....huh. Something weird was going on, clearly. There were haircuts, and, uh...OH FARANTH RINFALA WAS BALD?

What the shards had he missed?

There is a lot of upset, W'inmine, Toronth remarked absently, trotting around the back of the group and sitting somewhere that his petite rider would be able to see well without being in the line of whatever fire was occurring. So we shall stay back here.

"Right," W'in muttered to him before casting around for M'al. He waited for his roommate to look back over and then gave him a confused little wave over, then mouthed 'What happened'?

Xanthoth had already recited what he'd told the other dragon to B'lin by time H'dra showed up. Things were tense before. Now, they were just plain awkward. Staring in the face of someone who reminded him far too much of his brother back home threw him way out of his comfort zone. To make things worse, he even sounded like Bakin, trying to keep the peace in an impending battlefield.

Or, maybe not?

Hesitantly, he patted the younger male on the shoulder, as it was the only thing he could think to do. What could he have possibly said to a person like that, right now? Nothing was better than looking a fool, so he would say nothing.

"I understand, and I agree." Truly, B'lin sympathized with where F'sey was coming from. He'd said time and again--you know, in his mind--Arioth was too confrontational. That didn't change the point he was standing by, and since F'sey echoed his own, B'lin felt no shame in declaring his more clearly. "Allowing your dragon to threaten anyone, no matter who they are, is wrong." A direct quote from F'sey, if he recalled. If not, it was similar enough. "With all due respect--" Yes, with all due respect. He would say it now and mean it, because nothing deserved it more than for a man to admit his mistakes. "--the goldrider is a woman, and no matter who you are, handling a lady that way is not appropriate."

Think, B'lin, think. He was not good at this talking business. Why had he drug himself into this? Would his mother be proud or ashamed at this point? He really had no idea.

"I apologize for our interrupting." There. That was right, wasn't it? He could admit some fault. And... Turning to M'rik, he eyed his had-been roommate a few seconds. "And I apologize for Xanthoth's behavior to certain others, and he will as well. I'm not accusing anyone of being weak, but I will say that a leader is only as strong as their weakest follower, and that is a lesson that I think a lot of us could do well learning."

Apologize? I did nothing wrong, B'linmine. You treat your brother this way, too. 'Tough love', yes? It is your favorite kind.

Don't shame us, Xanthoth. You want to be wingleader? Leaders don't bully. You want to be loyal to your brother? Then go say sorry. Don't be a hypocrite. You're proud, so act it.

Xanthoth hesitated, musing over what had been told to him. B'lin was surprised it had sunk in, and more surprised it had worked. The dragonet approached his more vibrant sibling and, the same as he had done with the green, bowed before him. B'lin had hoped it would have meaning behind it, and it looked like it did.

Forgive me, brother. I respect you and you, too, will be great one day. Please do not be angry with me.

And, again, he was swiftly moving back to his rider. Both of them soon took a seat, sitting so quiet and patiently you'd have thought nothing wrong ever happened.

Well. ... So far this had been the most exciting and interesting lesson that Ferris had ever attended, and she hadn't even said a single word to anyone else but Hwinth the whole time.

Now THAT was the interesting part.

Ferrismine, we are not going to be like those others. Hwinth announced, looking up at Hers with a sharp look. But Ferris needed no comment about any of that; she wasn't stupid, and she didn't pick fights with people of authority. She spoke her mind, sure, but even she knew when to speak softly to HERSELF and not to the whole world.

"You need not tell me once, twice, or three times, Hwinth," Ferris mumbled as she leaned down closer to the dragonet. "It's just hair -- it'll grow back. Besides, there are some cute things one can do with short hair."

Hwinth just gave a small nod, glad of the lack of worry from Hers. The green didn't really give a dragon's tail about hair, but she was glad that Ferris had so far kept any unnecessary words from being spilled... or spilled out loud.

Ferris had sense, but more a sense of humor than other... kinds.

She caught sight of W'in a minute later after he had seen her, and she gave a quick shake of her hand in some deranged "hold on a second" type of gesture. With a quick side-glance first at F'sey, and then a quirked eyebrow at Hwinth, Ferris unstrapped one of her sandals from her feet.

The small dragonet watched, slightly confused and slightly skeptical, as Ferris lifted the sandal up, waited for W'in attention, and then gave it a waggle just above her shoulder height. Hwinth's confusion further went on as Hers then hunched her shoulders, gave a "wtf" look and mouthed:

"Got your flippy floppies?"

Hwinth honestly couldn't help but sigh after that, and if she could roll her eyes, she would have.

Quiet is not typically a word one would use to describe Ash. He is friendly, spontaneous, convincing, and sometimes rash, but rarely do others see 'focus' in him. He does little to dissuade the notion he may actually be incapable of serious thought; it's not like he has need to prove anything. Life is far too short to spend it being entirely serious all the time. Or even most of the time. If he wanted to do that, he'd…

Well, he wouldn't have Impressed a dragon like Tanith, and wouldn't be here now, standing, obediently, in almost-peace. Ash'ran may be able to fool most everyone else, but the small brown knows His is better than his lackadaisical front, and if the weyrling's good sense isn't up to keeping him in line, his dragonet is. Tanith seems to punctuate the point with a rather blunt stare, and peculiar feelings of 'no' every time the notion to say something strikes His. While Ash isn't entirely sure what to make of a baby trying authority on for size, he does know well even joking lightheartedness is less than welcome here, and the notion doesn't strike him often. And he could squelch it without the brown's attempts at 'assistance', thank you, his look seems to say.

It would be wherrybrained to do anything but, anyway, with or without just cause! Admittedly, Ash had never taken this clutch for anything less than trouble ─ who could, having seem them break shell? ─ but this chaos exceeds his lack of expectations. And despite Tanith's protesting I am not trouble interjection, he can tell his dragonet agrees. Some 'introduction to dragonriders' this is turning into.

No matter, he supposes, suppressing his welling discomfort and running a hand through his sun-bleached hair. Or at least, what he can of it; most is pulled back with a small tie, in a bob of a ponytail he is aware he won't have much longer. Not for a while, anyway. It's just hair; he isn't terribly attached, and can't be bothered to feel overly broken up about it. Just as well ─ as far as Ash can tell, caring, or at least acting on caring is very much a losing proposition, and isn't worth the trouble. While he may typically be game for some daring, this isn't one of those times, and he can't help wondering why others didn't just cut their losses sooner. Pun intended. Despite the diffusing heat and tension, he can't help also suspecting everyone could use a heavy dose of relaxation, and silliness often does the trick. Shame he isn't in much of a position to do anything about it. Maybe later.

Tanith, however, couldn't care less about the emotional turmoil. It makes him feel bad, and he doesn't like it, but he also finds it petty, and his distaste for the circumstance outweighs his awkwardness in it. He makes sure to tell Ash'ran as much, privately, conscious of what others might happen to hear him, oddly mindful of his place. Having pacified his discontent, for the moment at least, he turns his attention from His and trouble to Ormeteth, just watching, not venturing to bespeak him.

Only hearing one side of the conversation--or neither--was really trying. Had B'lin been living in the age of bluetooths he'd have died swinging, because as it was he wanted to hit things in frustration over never fully knowing what was going on. Inanimate objects made specifically for the purpose of being struck, mind you. Not another person, especially not a girl person. B'lin didn't so much as strike his brother; if Bachi didn't deserve it, no one did! Gah, it was still irritating. Who knew what could go on without someone not knowing?

Not much! A better answer Xanthoth thought, and the one he would give you if asked. Maybe if B'lin decided to pay attention to more important other things instead of that silly respectable bluerider and his clumsy ...respectable dragon, he'd get a better idea of the things going on around them. B'lin caught M'rik's thanks and gave him an unspoken 'you're welcome' via nod, but Xanthoth had said his piece on that matter, so he had more important other things to pay attention to. Things like Arioth.

He couldn't hear her rider from here, but he could take a guess. Looking at Ialluth, hm? Xanthoth looked too. Ialluth was a pretty thing! He doubted Arioth could appreciate that. When he turned back to his sister she was nuzzled contently at her rider's said. Rinfala lovely looked more at ease, too, if he said so himself. Maybe B'lin and F'sey's clash (or whatever it was) had been a good influence on some people. Silly riders!

You are the fastest learning queen, he praised Arioth directly. Not sucking up. He meant what he said, just like His! Xanthoth's siblings were great just as B'lin's siblings were great (yes, Bachi too!), so they deserved it. Even if Hasufeth was clumsy "special" --ugh, respectable-- they needed to be made as aware of it as they could be. Hair is not needed. All women of the Weyr are lovely, and yours will look more so because you are at her side. All that glitters is gold, as the saying went.

Looking at the large green again he couldn't have agreed less with those words. Some chatter caught his attention and he, quite literally, shrugged it off. Do not listen, B'linmine. The Weyrlingmaster has praised you, and you have made him admit that he, too, was wrong. Better still, you have admitted fault as well like a true man! You glow like a leader in the presence of a leader, so be proud and sit up straight, Mine! People will not always agree with you, but if you did not make the best choices, you would not be Mine. He wasn't expecting any heartfelt response. Good, because he wasn't getting one. B'lin made no noise other than an acknowledging grunt, spared no motion past a single, brief pat on the head.

Xanthoth was not to be discouraged. That was a lot of praise for His! Today was the most he'd heard him talk to anyone but him ever. Thankful to see things calming, the little bronze chuckled again. The lesson hadn't really started and they'd already learned so much! How could he not radiate pride like he was? His had learned things and taught them already! Why, even Arioth had gained some tact--uh, knowledge. I'm very glad this is settled, B'linmine. I was not as sure as I sounded about going hungry.

Hearing this, B'lin, as if programmed to do so, raised his hand in a swift, fast motion and slammed his palm into his forehead. Aye, aye, aye. Was he kidding?! Don't... don't repeat that to anyone, alright?

Ormeteth was content to watch all these going ons with curiously whirling eyes, patient, but wise enough to stay quiet. He certainly wasn't going to get His in trouble while the big green's Mine was trying to talk to everyone. How exciting! But he knew His was starting to feel anxious from all the tension, and so he tried to emit calm, happy thoughts.

That was when a brilliant thought hit him.

Big Green! You are very nice to Yours, and I want to be nice to Mine! Could you have yours cut Mine's hair off? That way he can look more like a dragon, too! It would make him very happy! He was careful to make sure G'ran couldn't hear what he was saying, but his eyes were a delighted green-blue.

The rider in question was shocked at both how brazenly the girls were speaking back to the Weyrlingmaster... and irritated as hell that the man wasn't able to seemingly control people lesser than him. Was it really because the one had Impressed the gold? Shards, no wonder their reputation was so sour--it was enough to make him scowl deeply, but he didn't say a word. Didn't have anything to say, nor would he even if he could have thought of anything.

And then, to his surprise, Ormeteth had straightened with a sudden, strangled squeak of excitement. Tanith!

What? G'ran questioned stupidly, watching as the brown scrambled over to a dragon he recognized as the one whom had hatched at the same time Ormeteth did. Said dragon was wriggling in utter delight, lighter forelegs batting eagerly at his more stoic.

Mine, it is Tanith! Tanith is very sour, so you are lucky you have and not him. Ormeteth teased brazenly, though continued to make several soft, sharp little sounds of happiness. This was very good!