It was a rest day for the bronze rider, though such a term was subjective in nature. Though there were no drills scheduled with his new wing, that didn't mean there was much time for rest or relaxation. Pity too, considering how much the tall rider enjoyed his naps and sleep. No no, rest days merely meant there was time to devote to other aspects of dragon riding - like working on a new set of riding straps to replace the current set, oiling Niyath, bathing Niyath, feeding Niyath, occasionally performing sweeps or picking up various folks around Ista for some reason or another, cleaning ones weyr (especially with four mates!) etc. etc. Ah, yes, just because there were no drills to perform didn't mean there would be much resting in any sense of the word!
Currently, the bronze rider had every intention of taking Niyath out to hunt wild game, but to no avail. The dragon had insisted upon feeding at the Weyr, after making such claims that he was much too famished to actually hunt far for his prey. T'loa, of course, knew it was nothing but a ploy to stick closer to Ista. . . . but with the weather being as hot as it was, the rider didn't object too strongly.
Three herdbeasts and a wherry later, the blood stained dragon was in need of a bath. And while T'loa would have preferred a flight to the beach, there was something he had over looked; most of the weyrlings had been released from their afternoon lessons to perform various assigned tasks, chores and some down time with their dragons. There were quite a few enjoying themselves near the Weyr lake, each splashing, playing and generally having a good time.
I will wash with the small ones! They look as if they're enjoying themselves and I wish to play. Niyath rumbled, confident his rider (once again) wouldn't object.
And how could the man? The wistfulness he felt from Niyath, the curiosity and over all joy was too much. There would be no harm for the bronze to meet some of the junior and senior weyrling's present.
"All right, all right~!" T'loa chuckled, an affectionate smile crossing his typical lethargic features. "Go on then, but do watch your step, you big oaf. Some of them are awfully small. . ."
Niyath gave a snort, butting his head against his rider in response. As if I would be so careless. And without another word, but a welcoming bugle to the little dragonets already within the water, the long-necked dragon glided happily over to the waters edge.
It didn't take long for the brute to swiftly start up a game of splashing, while T'loa ever so casually loped after. Glancing around at the various riders and weyrlings present, he was amazed at all the faces he didn't recognize. Most of them were future peers he'd fly with, the ones he'd face the first threadfall with. . . .
Grim as the thought was, he couldn't help but wonder just how quickly the sheer number of dragons and riders would be cut come the aftermath of frequent threadfall.
