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[Sh'en and Kalteth]



Sh'en fiddled with his knots, not entirely sure what to do with them. It was sort of shocking to have a craft, in a sense.

The traders were late. Maybe they had been held up. Maybe they had found a better deal elsewhere. Maybe they would just come later. Sh'en was caught between relief, disappointment, and simply not caring. Just because his extended family wasn't here didn't mean they were proud. Just because they were late didn't mean they didn't care. And he didn't care if they did or not. He had Kalteth, and why bother with the others?
He had Diedre too, of course, but these recent days she was a mixed bag. He craned his head to catch a glimpse of her. For all the bitter conversation she had stayed for a little while longer. He appreciated that.

"I see that, Kally" he couldn't help but smile. The bitter conversation of before didn't matter, not really. Because he had Kalteth. "Careful with that"

"It's not good for you" He didn't want her to eat too much. Warnings aside, he knew how sick he got when he overate. "Besides if you eat too much and get fat, it'll be harder to go on adventures."

"... but you still have to eat."
Kalteth's brief confusion went through their bond like a cool, sparking wave.
"... don't worry too much about it."
He did have to talk to his new roommate. Yes. But honestly, Sh'en had to talk to everybody. Everybody, everything, anything that would talk back. He was feeling particularly chatty today... just a bit distracted by the food. So much food!
A loud screech distracted Kalteth from even the idea of food.
She decided to wander over and sway a bit with repressed energy.
That was unexpected, to say the least.

and he might as well listen.



Most of the rest of the speech... he ignored.
Except for the eat and be merry part.
"Well." he said to everybody around, "Lets eat"
Kalteth had noticed the strange goldrider, her attention grabbed by the bright yellow colors. She moved away from Phasianth and wiggled and hopped her way to the goldrider, staring up at Natai, not realizing her mistake.

she asked, curiously,

Shenja's attention was focused there too. He'd call hr back if there was any trouble brewing, or get up and go himself.


Ooo, what a good idea!
She turned her attention back to Natai.
she asked the goldrider cheerfully.
Actually...

Kalteth looked around. She... hadn't noticed.
She wasn't sure what to do.

Faranth, this was rapidly turning into a crowd, wasn’t it? After Narisa showed up, the brownweyrling that C’ross had thought was going to move on to find Becka and Phasianth instead stuck around, and another unattended green had joined the party. Did Natai just naturally attract baby dragons? Or was it because Narisa had joined in now?

(Granted, Nimith was responsible for Ellibreth’s presence, but Ell was staying quiet and not causing any trouble. That was different.)

Poth is bespeaking us, Nimith informed C’ross. Her rider wants to speak to you.

Great golden eggs, don’t bring him over here. Tell him I’m speaking to the Junior Weyrwoman and I’ll be over as soon as I can? Or maybe it was him. Maybe Nimith was disturbingly magnetic

Nimith dipped his muzzle in acknowledgement and then turned away from the group, trotting off to the mercifully quieter table where T’lon and Poth were sitting. Hello, Poth. C’ross wanted me to tell you that he’s talking to one of the Junior Weyrwomen – Narisa, our mother’s rider – and he doesn’t want to offend her by leaving so quickly. He sat down next to the little green and cast a slightly red-tinged eye at the bucket of raw meat. That smelled delicious. Perhaps he could convince C’ross to snag him a bucket at some point… So we will be sharing living quarters?

Natai had asked him if she was out-of-place at this event. "I don't know, honestly," C'ross answered softly. "This is the first I've been to a Hatching Feast." Absentmindedly, he reached out and scratched Ellibreth's eyeridges, unaware of how odd it was that his own dragon was absent and he was giving affection to someone else's dragon.

Cai

For the second time she could remember, she was not wearing pants. For the second time this turn she'd been forced into a skirt, and for the first time in her life, make-up. How these people had gotten a hold of her, and how they'd managed to wrangle her into this ridiculous get up she'd rather not get into. Suffice to say, she was feeling quite betrayed and severely alarmed at the amount of physical contact. If Cai had ever had the desire to get blindly drunk, now would be the time. Unfortunately, for her class the restriction on alcohol had yet to be lifted.

Caimine we match! Miath bounced alongside the group, at least until the crowd got too thick for her to follow, at which point she veered aside to join the older dragons where they congregated.

I knew I should have gotten rid of that stuff. Cai grouched back, her face frozen into one of her more spectacular glares. Even if she never wore it, it seemed so impractical to just throw clothes away. The stuff Dizzian and Hekate had given her so many months before had been shoved into a trunk and forgotten. Luckily for her, their rarely touched prison had escaped the worst of the damage from the hurricane, it's contents surviving in surprisingly good condition. They had been found, of course, and now she was stuck in them again.

If she could get over herself, she might agree that she cleaned up pretty nicely, and that the bull wher of a woman Wen had recently acquired was a precise hand with cosmetics. The dress was maroon with lighter trim, the colors of Trine weyr (thanks to Dizzian) and reached just past her knees. The sleeves were three-quarter with a ruffle and the neckline was by far the lowest she'd ever worn in her life. Miath was right though, with Trine's colors and her own orange hair, she did match her dragon quite well.

Didn't mean she liked it any better. "You look ridiculous. I look ridiculous." She turned her glare on Wen. "You are lucky Miath likes Rynsemth" Whatever the threat meant, it was becoming common for Cai to use that excuse with him. Before she could go on his question stopped her in her tracks, spots of pink rising underneath her freckled cheeks.

"I Don't. Dance."

Z'fer

"As if you could keep up with me." Z'fer grinned back down at her as they steered towards the buffet. He reluctantly let go of her and grabbed a plate, accepting help from the drudges to pile it high with the fare provided. His mug in his other hand was refilled by another without needed to be asked.

"So what do you think of the weyrlings in this clutch? It's about the same ratios as the one Devith came from right? Brakiath's last?" He'd have to be careful in getting her opinion on what he was thinking. It ran very close to insulting her dragon and that of her best friend.

The wingleader turned away. Bereck relaxed a little. The interaction between Natai and C'ross was carefully noted but he didn't feel much concern over it; the young blue rider was more her age for one thing, and on a more even footing for another. If she lived here of course Natai would be above him in the pecking order and somewhere parallel to Z'fer, but she did not live here and did not have a rank to protect her.... Protect her from what exactly? Perhaps he was getting paranoid in his old age... no, it wasn't age, it was since the revolution.

Regardless! Bereck gave himself a mental shake and took another drink of klah. The wingleader wasn't staring anymore, Natai had relaxed a little, what she did with C'ross within the bounds of the rules now laid out before him was their business not his, all of the weyrlings around them were polite as was the gold rider, and so at the moment all was well.

"Narisa," he acknowledged with a small polite nod to the young woman; she was a decent girl, bright enough and with a good heart so far as he could tell. Of course it could just be that she was a far more subtle snake than her Benden born counterpart. "And congratulations Kh'men, I don't believe I said so." A nice strong looking brown he had there, good conformation and sure on his feet.

And abruptly there was another dragon around, a very excitable green. Bereck blinked down at Kalteth. "Have you lost your rider too?" Another healthy active one though, he supposed he couldn't complain too much if she didn't get herself into trouble.

"Not unusual," he commented to C'ross and Natai, tearing his eyes away from the lone hatchling to add his thoughts. "Perhaps hatchings have been more... closed off than usual of late, with political affairs being what they are. Hardly unusual to see strangers though, as I said the families of those who've Impressed often come if a ride can be organised for them in time...."

C'ross was scratching the eyeridges of the green who had spoken to him. That was... it was a strange sight, one he couldn't quite find an analogy for in his mind. It just wasn't done with hatchlings, wasn't done with adult dragons either much come to that. With that said however there were exceptions, he himself for example had made quite a fuss of Bel right from the start. Did C'ross know the green's rider? The hatchling herself seemed glad to accept the attention so it wasn't as if-

Ah, thank stars, here was the rider. Bereck offered I'saak a nod of acknowledgement. "Congratulations rider, quite an adventurous one you have there."

One of the other youngsters seemed to be off, fair enough, he probably had a lot of people to see not to mention a hungry belly to feed. Bereck nodded to him again and the serious man even almost managed a smile.

Chaos.
Maddness.
Insanity.

....Wait? Was that someone already tipping back one too many? Moving away from the crowded table with plate in hand, S'ar could have sworn he hear drunken singing already taking place somewhere nearby. Sighing, he shook his head and moved onwards, the little being at his heels echoing said sigh. Finding an uncrowded spot near on of the bonfires, the Weyrling in question happily plopped down; he had been mobbed by a few people already, some offering congratulations while others had been crazy nosy about poor Rineth, wanting to pet him and wanting to know every single detail about the silver.

Great shards of the First Queen!
At least they managed to escape somewhat when the speech from the Lady brought everyone to attention. Maybe now they could get some food into their bellies.

A dainty nose poked his hand holding the meat bucket.

"You know I would never deny you anything, my friend." With a gentle scratch under the chin (which little Rineth melted into like a kitten), the offered chunk of meat was quickly snapped up and swallowed. The process repeated itself for the next few moments, except S'ar was happily helping himself to his food with his free hand from time to time.

Finishing, Rineth prummed happily, head laying on his thigh with vibrant eyes closed. The poor thing was exhausted again; leaning back a little on the bench, his rider simply let a hand scratch gently at the eyeridge it was laying on while he watched the coming and goings of the Feast. All of his fellow Weyrlings were out and about, mingling and enjoying themselves. S'ar was more then content to simply sit back and watch. Heck, he would meet most if not all of them in the days to come.

Right now?
There was Rineth.
And meat pies.
Meat pies were always good, especially with a cup of fresh klah.

Understandably most of the Weyrlings appeared to be quite busy, but eventually Kleos spotted one alone and headed over.

"Congratulations silver rider," she said with a smile to S'ar, "that's a handsome fellow you've Impressed. Kleos, wingleader of Dauntless and rider of crimson Moriath at your service." A warm smile tugged at the blonde's heavily threadscored face and she offered a salute to the new rider. "I'm not sure that I've seen you around before, are you new to Trine Weyr?" she added, taking a sip from her goblet as she finished speaking.

Up on her shoulder Ice the blue firelizard squeaked a greeting of his own.

Moraith sent to Rineth from where she lounged a way back from the human festivities, her considerable bulk make it difficult to get close up. Her voice was perhaps not as warm as her rider's but it was certainly polite, and that was about as much as any male ever got out of her. At least he was an atypical not one of the foolish old colours with a mind full of little but sex.

R'an followed V'ail's example, though he was much less cautious about cutting up the meat as he had been a beastcrafter so he knew how to cut up meat without getting blood all over him easily.

At the question he tilted his head. "I'm from Bitra Hold, I was Searched to Benden but then a rider dropped me off here once Benden was attacked." He said as he chopped up the meat, careful not to cut his fingers. ONce a few pieces were done, he set them off to the side where Syriacuth sat up on his strong back legs and ate them right off the table. 'That's rude you know.' R'an scolded.

'You put them there. I wasn't going to wait for you.' Syriacuth scolded right back as he chomped a piece down. He dropped back onto all fours and turned his attention onto Lanterneth, noticing that his little sister seemed abit slower and her eyes were shut. He ducked his head some and tilted it. 'Are you alright?' He asked, gently moving close enough to nudge his head against her neck.

R'an stared, this was the first time he saw the dragon get closer than 6 inches to anyone of his own will. Though he was only a couple of hours old, he had definitely already set the standard it seemed for being close to people, having growled at anyone they passed if they were too close on the way to their new rooms.

Syriacuth paid no mind to his bonded's staring, more concerned with his clutchmate at the moment.

Kleos chuckled and knelt down to shake the proffered hand. "Well quite! I would be rather displeased in his place too if I were to be ditched unceremoniously on the floor. I'm a hold girl myself so I understand what you're feeling at the moment... though I do believe I had a little more time to adjust to Weyr life before my Impression than you did." It had been... a month? Two maybe? A short while but long enough to learn the ropes.

"I do indeed, so I know well the challenges ahead of you," she continued with another nod and a small smile. "Your bondmate is weak at the moment, and will be more prone to injury and illness throughout his life than one of the old colours but he is no less valued for it here at Trine. Silvers are amongst the most prized colours here in fact, for their rarity and their great flame." She didn't mention yet that they along with bronzes were the most likely choices for wingleaders, it seemed a little much to throw at the lad all at once. If he was interested in that path he would soon enough learn the long history of silver wingleaders, even though Trine currently boasted not a single one.

Moriath replied to the silver with soft acknowledgement but didn't trouble him further with talk as she felt Kleos' memories of how weak and weary she had been after her own hatching.