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 Posted: Tue Dec 14, 2010 9:57 pm
It was sunny, it was warm, and it was time for a bath. P'ta had put off washing Wilth for a while since going out with other dragons around had nearly set his lifemate into a seizure that took most of the young rider's will to control. The bronze was getting bigger but his nerves, well . . .anyway. The pair had come over to the same lake that P'ta had once stood before as a Candidate, only now he had a massive wedge-head shoved into his back and the walk took nearly twice the time it had when he was alone.
He didn't mind though and soon he was scrubbing away at the itches that couldn't be removed with oil and scratching no matter how hard he tried, a hum issuing from both rider and dragon. It was a tune they'd picked up from some of the riders at Ghenza and was likely the only fond memory that P'ta had from there - other than meeting Wilth and his friends.
"You're getting bigger, Wilth. Pretty soon I'll have to get on a stool to be able to wash you properly."
Is...is that a bad thing?
A wave of worry and images of P'ta falling and getting hurt nearly flooded the young Bronzerider's mind as he attempted to scrub at a particularly itchy blotch of hide on his lifemate's shoulder; it was odd how no matter the level of worry Wilth was feeling he could always feel his hunger and itches stronger now. Most would have considered that annoying - P'ta considered it progress.
"Not at all. Soon you'll be big enough that you don't have to worry about others pushing you around, and then maybe big enough that we can fly together. Won't that be fun, to be in the sky together?"
No.
"Oh come on now."
A gentle shove from P'ta's hand moved the massive bronze over a bit and the dragon's eyes whirled from their usual yellow to a humourous blue-yellow. The dragonet moved his wing and knocked P'ta back and over, the Weyrling landing hard on his back. The wind was knocked out of him and he lay stunned for a moment, eyes looking up at the sky above him.
"Uh..."
MINE! MINE!!! PLEASE GET UP, MINE!
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Posted: Tue Dec 21, 2010 2:41 pm
If Wilth didn't like the idea of flying, Luci more than made up for it. She took to the sky with all the excitement of modern day child on Christmas morning. Free time was a gift lately, often one she had to shoplift if she ever hoped to have it. She'd once been cringing at the thought of flying -- once as a younger girl, a dragonless girl. Not anymore.
Dorath cut through the air and between. Again. And again. Like a lightning bug they would appear in the sky and vanish, seen elsewhere seconds later. The chill of nothingness was too brief to deter her enthusiastic mood. A while was too long to go without doing this.
You should return to work soon, Mine.
I am working. We're practicing for the goldrider wing. Kanaleth will be ready soon and Sharath is ready now.
They blinked between and emerged back near the lake, soaring overhead.
I am going to land.
Luci didn't ask why. The frenzied bronze below them spoke for himself. His concern was as obvious as a slap in the face even without his eyes to tell all there was to tell. She unhooked her straps and carefully climbed down.
It will be alright. Calm down, Dorath instructed. Not commanded. Instructed. She didn't believe a gold had the power to control any dragon's worry for Theirs. No one would tell her whether or not to fear for Luci. There were things even a queen couldn't do.
Luci's riding gear was as dull as any greenrider's would have been. Wearing it was the only time they saw her not clad from head to toe in over-the-top, flashy dresses since the Weyrleader had died. That kind of clothing may have been befitting for a Weyrwoman, but being a goldrider didn't make between freeze you any slower.
"Are you alright, Bronzerider?" she called to the boy whose name whom she couldn't recall.
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Posted: Wed Dec 29, 2010 2:30 pm
P'ta was pretty sure he heard people approaching, or at least a dragon and their rider (which was a person anyway) but he couldn't really find it in himself to just roll over and get up. He was still quite winded thanks to Wilth's hard knock and his mind was swimming with the powerful emotions that his dragon was broadcasting.
"Wilth. . ."
He could tell that another dragon was trying to calm Wilth down, even if he didn't know what was being said, but the words were somewhat falling on deaf ears as Wilth's massive body cowered and his head lowered. The cries had ceased in their loud broadcast though the protests of fear clearly remained. It wasn't until he was sure that someone had hailed him that he attempted to but more energy into his movement but his efforts were in vain. A heavy weight pressed itself against his legs and he recognized the feeling as his own dragon. What he didn't recognize. . . was the thin hiss that escaped from the bronze's mouth in regards to the approaching female voice. Wilth may have accepted the commands of whatever dragon was talking to him, but he wasn't going to allow anyone near his!
STAY AWAY. HE IS MINE
Another hiss followed as Wilth lowered himself down and over his rider, almost shielding them from the gazes around. Of course it only hurt P'ta more to have something heavy on him but at the very least he wasn't crushed. Just his legs, a little.
"Wilth, you have to get off. You're hurting me."
No. I'm scared, your Wilth is scared. They're coming closer!
There was a grunt of effort as P'ta actually dared to kick his leg free, Wilth barely moving as his rider rolled from beneath him and out from under the wing cover. He coughed as his lungs too in fresh air and he blinked from where he lay up at a woman in riding clothes. Also, a gold dragon. Whelp.
"Ah. . . hello, Weyrwoman."
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