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Yesterday had indeed been a total shitfest in the history of ShitFests, but Marti felt like she was wearing a literal silver lining in the form of the Assistant knot at her shoulder. She gave it another small glance of admiration, but resisted prodding at it again and instead took a sip of klah.

Yes. Things had turned out well. People weren't dead (sort of), and she had a new position. Danverith was still technically fuming, but it no longer had anything to do with the offers she'd made to M'onk at the Hatching, or accepting to be weyrlingmaster assistant to a clutch of aberrant dragons. Nope. Instead Dan was fuming because of Ogbanuth. Marti was just pleased that they were both off in the distance instead of next to the tree, though twice already the brown had screamed questions into her head. They concerned big words and their meanings; big words and Dan had never been friends; 'Recapitulation' and 'Superfluous' were now undoubtedly on his 'Rip/Shred/Kill' list.

The woman turned her attention to a quieter counterpart. "How's the head now?" she asked, looking down at the sitting man.

"I feel the need to die."

R'vyn had missed the party. On the other hand, he was quietly, anxiously determined not to miss the first weyrling lesson. Lessons were important. He knew from training at the Healer Hall that if you missed the first day of classes with a new journeyman instructor, you missed all the introductions and the explanations and then you spent the rest of the season trying frantically to catch up. That had never been him, but he had seen it happen to other apprentices (including one very unlucky boy who'd caught fire-head and only recovered just before the first exam) and he was determined not to be That Person.

So with his stitched-up arm securely fastened in a sling, and a fresh bandage over one temple, R'vyn and Zenaith slipped in and found a seat near the front. He'd begged and wheedled and got permission from the healers to come down to where Weyrlingmaster V'tyai had set up their first lessons. There were... baskets? And an adult rider he didn't recognize, which almost made R'vyn shrink back in terror until he saw her Assistant Weyrlingmaster's knots. He didn't particularly want to be around any adult dragonriders he didn't know. Not when Zenaith's future could be in jeopardy.

Zenaith, for her part, just crooned and cuddled up a little closer to him, laying her head in his lap. Hopefully this first lesson wouldn't be too strenuous. Hers was recovering well, but he was still all... jumpy.

Hiemal was on time.

He had waited inside by a clock watching it carefully to make sure of this. He knew the distance to the feeding pens (he had worked there once before he was permitted to start work in his own field) and he knew his average walking pace; it was simple mathematics from there.

So it was that at slightly less than one minute to ten Hiemal and Haliath arrived by the feeding pens. The Weyrlingmaster and a women he had seen approach M'onk during the Hatching were already waiting under a tree and also present were a couple of the other new weyrlings; the boy who had been wounded, and two (former) prisoners.

Hiemal came to a halt, folded his arms behind his back and inclined his head to the pair of adult riders. "Good morning Weyrlingmaster, Assistant Weyrling...mistress? How do you riders phrase these things? Mmh. Good morning fellow weyrlings. It is a pleasant morning is it not?"

Haliath said with a little 'peep!' as she too trotted to a halt. she added with a bob of her head, sitting herself neatly down beside her neat rider and folding her wings carefully by her flanks.

More had started to arrive, the greens and the wounded healer who had impressed the yellow, and Vociferoth raised his head to look at them, responding to the welcoming feelings being sent to him.

Good morning sisters. I hope you all had a pleasant night.

With his greeting done with, he laid his head back down on his rider. They were still waiting for many of his siblings to arrive, and he supposed that they probably wanted to make a dramatic entrance. Some of them were like that.

"It is a pleasant morning indeed," Blyte responded to Hiemal.

"Remind me to chew glass after this." V'tyai muttered to Marti. Weyrlings started to show up one by one, speckling the area with different hides and people. He nodded to B'yte in recognition and started to pick his head up shortly after R'yvn and the rest made their appearance. The bluerider groaned, rubbing at his face before pushing his shoulders back. V'tyai rolled his shoulders, lips pressing to one full-lipped line. All of them trailed in like little ants - some of them super hyper ants - and started to talk among themselves. Good. At least they knew each other more than he suspected they may. One good thing about clutches was that they apparently knew more about one another than their riding counterparts... Ogbanuth attempted to eat one of his clutchmates at their first class; the bronze insinuated he'd been too lazy to hatch properly.

They didn't look too horrible. Not even the one frolicking around. Glorious. Right.

"Good morning, hatchlings. First order of business is to pay attention to me. Right here." V'tyai waved at his face, tired eyes gazing out at the little things. He kept his tone as businesslike as possible, doing his best to stay away from M'onk's forever smile. He looked a bit tired and his head hurt like hell but at least he sounded normal. "I'm going to give a little speech. You're all going to shut up and at least pretend to be listening. My address is officially Sir or Weyrlingmaster. This is Marti," He gestured to the woman standing near to him. "You will call her Weyrlingmaster, Miss until she tells you otherwise. She's here to keep me from throwing you all in the herdbeast pens without your dragons.

"I'm going to pretend all of us are here. If someone shows up late, you do not mention it. If someone fails to show up, that is for me to deal with. I don't tolerate bullying. I'm also going to assume everyone knows how to read or write. If you can't, have your dragon tell Ogbanuth and I will set up lessons with a Harper. As of now, kiddies, you are all equal. Criminal weyrlings will be treated different as according to agreements made but as far as I am concerned, you are all weyrlings. Disrespect me and we will have problems. I do not make idle threats."

V'tyai yawned into his hand, his head shaking. "Typically this is the part where I teach you to butcher a wherrie or oil your dragon. That's stupid. If you can't butcher a wherrie until your dragon is old enough to kill them on their own, have them tell Ogbanuth and I will send you to the kitchens for lessons. If you don't know how to put oil on a rag and rub it onto skin, I am going to pass harsh judgement on you for being unable to bathe correctly in the first place. What we're going to do is introduce ourselves. When you introduce yourself, send your dragon up to get a basket. Criminals get the yellow baskets for obvious reasons. I don't want to know why you're at Warden's - weyrlings in yellow, I know your crimes. No one else has to. Keep it about yourself.

"Don't wait for me to call on you, just talk. Don't interrupt anyone. I'll start. My name is V'tyai and my dragon is Ogbanuth. I'm not pleased with events that have been happening and will be very grumpy should someone start badtalking others from the Hatching or new colors. I'm past the point of caring about manners and I'm too old to care about most things, have a blue firelizard most have you have met, and I'm on good terms with the most blood thirsty wher in the world."

He blinked and sat back. "The rest of you - go."





(OOC Note: Even if you post after this one, your character can still be on time. Just state in the post that they were there on time. There's no punishment if they aren't.)

Though Haemath had wanted to be up front, where everyone could see him. Normally, Canoake would approve of this but this time, she had wanted to sit and watch. So when V'tyai gave his broken speech (what did he drink-dragon piss), her gaze was a curious one as both he and Marti spoke. Meet and greet, really? She rolled her eyes and looked around the room instead, waiting for the right moment to shine.

Haemath wanted to shine. Wanted to show off. But apparently, Canoake had a plan.