====November 17, 2013
==== T'ral, Arianne
==== Making sure Esanth hasn't strained himself, and discussing the vagaries of Weyrlinghood.

Who T'ral, Arianne
What Making sure Esanth hasn't strained himself, and discussing the vagaries of Weyrlinghood.
When There are 0 turns, 8 months and 12 days until the 12th pass
Where Training Grounds

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Training Grounds
A broad and sheltered swoop of bowl lies bare for the talons and tread of countless weyrlings that-will-be, encased by stone scoured and scarred by those-that-were. Dirt lies as neatly as dirt can lie, swept and raked daily, at the mouth of the caverns that must indubitably be the weyrling barracks. Devoid of decoration, the place stands strangely absent of pressence when empty, the everpresent wind of Southern giving strange acoustics to those under the shelter of the towering bowl-wall.
It is the forty-eighth day of Autumn and 76 degrees. It is partly cloudy, but still warm and bright. Clouds have started to drift across the sky again. The jungles are almost dry.

It's late morning. There hasn't ben rain in some time and things are finally starting to feel not damp. Not totally damp. The sky has been bright and clear, great for flying. Esanth, eager to take every chance to fly, has been trying to hide the toll the new lessons are taking. Unsuccessfully. T'ral, standing next to Arianne, on his toes, poised- points suddenly, "There!" he's pointing at Esanth's left shoulder as the dragonet works through pre-flight warm-up stretches under the watchful eye of an elder dragon. "There! That hitch!" He looks at the dragonhealer, "Did you see it?"

Arianne and Caelth are watcing carefully the stretches; both actually manage to have their heads nocked at exactly the same angle when T'ral points out the hitch too. The brown grunts though, where she purses her lips a bit. "Esanth, may I touch your shoulder joint while you do that again?" Waiting until she has permission, a nod is given to T'ral. "I did see it. But…" When the blue goes through his motions again she smiles broadly. "I don't think it's anything that will keep him grounded. I admire how watchful you're being though. Especially with this l'il guy." Smirk. Poor Esanth.

Esanth grumbles assent and -looks- at Arianne when she says, 'especially with this l'il guy.' Blink. He whuffs and returns to his stretches which you all are rather interrupting. "Oh, good!" T'ral wilts and scrubs both hands back and forth over his scalp, making his hair stands up all crazy. He backs away to give Esanth room to continue. "So… keep an eye on it?"

Arianne flashes a dimpled grin at the stretching dragon - but Caelth sits up a little straighter. STARE. Ahem. "You're not fully grown yet, sweetie. Don't worry. I won't call you l'il guy once you've reached full height." she assures, well aware of dragons and their egos. "I do think he's probably a little sore though. So yes, definitely keep an eye on it. Don't let him do too much. I know he's probably very eager. But an injury now could set back your training." She's gesturing toward Caelth when she says it, and when she jerks her chin toward the brown, he does a different bit of stretching that focuses on the shoulder joint. "That would be good to add to your routine."

T'ral cants his head, listening. He chuckles at Esanth, still stretching away and scratches his jaw, "Actually, he objected to 'especially.'" He shrugs at Arianne. He nods through her recommendations and watches Caelth's stretch carefully, visualizing and trying to feel it as Esanth. Hmmm. He squints at Caelth's movements, "Mind showing me one more time, Caelth?" T'ral comments, looking at the brown, "They're kinda built similarly. Caelth and Esanth." He purses his lips speculatively, "When you were first doing ground exercises, was he, uh… bouncy? Like, chip-your-teeth, rattle-your-bones bouncy?"

Arianne's lips twitch with humor, though she refrains from pointing out that she's seen more of Esanth then any other dragonet since the clutch hatched. She knows that T'ral knows! And so she just continues to smile in that knowing way she has. Caelth, for his part, dutifully complies with T'ral's request (probably because Ari reinforced it). "They are actually. And yes, he was like that. Still is, actually. I have some extra padding on his riding straps, because his landings are rather.. abrupt." Jarring, might be a better word. "He lands like a boulder being dropped. How and why it hasn't eroded his joints I have no idea."

To Caelth, "Thanks." T'ral's eyes widen in alarm, "That could happen? With joints? From being abrupt?!" T'ral had been mostly worried about his own well-being - dental care, future children - figuring that however Esanth landed was how he landed and wouldn't hurt the dragon. He looks from Caelth to Esanth and back to Arianne, a worried furrow on his brow.

"Well, think of it the way you would of someone who runs every day, but doesn't wear the right shoes. Eventually their knees and shins will be worn down from all the work they're being put through. It's the same principle." Arianne explains, gesturing towards the joints in question on both dragons. "But they're both well muscled. And I assure you - if he's doing something that starts to hurt him every time he lands? He'll change how he lands."

T'ral nods more, sure, sure. He purses his lips speculatively, "I'm still holding out for him growing out of it." He doesn't look optimistic, but you can't fault a guy for hoping, right? "He could learn grace…?" Only the most cruel individual would burst that bubble. "You can teach that, right? Like, like… dancing." He blinks at himself, "Wow. That sounds really stupid." T'ral is perhaps more tired than he realizes.

Caelth would definitely be that cruel. Which is why Ari shoots him a quelling glance before proferring her most optimistic expression and tone T'ral's way. "It's true. Dragonets change as they grow. So he could very well wind up a rather graceful lander." she agrees. "Have him pay special attention to those from your clutch that land well. Have hi mimic some of their techniques if you can talk him into it. That will help." Obviously, she feels some empathy for the weyrlings since a hand is lifted to try and pat the poor bluerider's shoulder. "It didn't sound stupid. I remember how exhausting weyrlinghood was. You're doing great."

T'ral runs down the list of weyrling pairs and picks out some likely matches for build and technique. "He manages to be stubborn and keen to learn. We'll see, I guess." He grins weakly at Arianne, a quick glance to the side before looking back to watch Esanth at stretches. "When does it stop? All this keeping a lid on emotions?" He shifts his weight to another foot, "It's ridiculous, 'cause I can tell you I'm plenty keyed up emotionally when I PT to the point of collapse. Or when the smell of firestone makes me puke. Or when Esanth took his first glide." He looks warily at Arianne. Ugh. I'm an idiot. Just toe the line, figure out why it's there later. His jaw clenches as he pointedly studies Esanth.

Arianne is obviously unprepared for that question; a startled look crossing her face as she studies first T'ral and then Esanth. "Well." she says… carefully. "Some emotions are okay.I mean, frustration, nausea, pride… at this point, they can handle those. Mostly." But an eyebrow raises next, and she folds her arms across her waist thoughtfully. "If you're referring to things like romantic relationships though, that's a bit more of a delicate topic. Some dragon and rider pairs have not yet bonded to the point where the dragonet knows there is no reason to be jealous or worried about romantic feelings towards someone else. Or lust. Others may be a bit more ready, but don't have enough control of their own emotions. And I don't think the rest of the weyrling barracks is interested in anyone else's, uh, romantic inclinations towards others. They're still young enough to broadcast new feelings and 'surprises'."

T'ral winces, ears reddening, chortling weakly, "Aah… heh, uh, that transparent, eh?" He nods, there had been plenty of ping-ponging of all manner of unwelcome sharings early on. Fewer now, but everyone was tired, strung out. Stuff slipped through. His voice drops, "You know, I've worried that I'm why he's clumsy. Cause I wasn't," he gestures at his temple, "focused early on." His jaw is clenched, "Could that be?"

Arianne bites her lower lip, trying her level best not to giggle at T'ral's discomfort. "Lots of weyrlings go through it." Or at least, she's going to say they do. "Why do you think they work you so hard? Part of it is to keep you all so exhausted you have no time to deal with 'feelings'." Air quotes! "Plus, well - taking care of the dragonets can be exhausting in and of itself." It doesn't quite sound like she had this particular issue pop up for her, but then… Caelth. Really. Who wants to deal with that? "No. No, you are not why he's clumsy. Remember how tired some of you are? Or were? Everyone is distracted at some point. Either through bottling emotion, exhaustion, getting used to having another being in your head all the time. They would all be clumsy. So it's not your fault. Get rid of that guilt now, or it will inhibit your bond." There's her chiding voice. That one right there!

He'd sorta already come to that conclusion, that he wasn't at fault for Esanth's clumsiness, but it is good to hear someone else say it. Another weight uncoils from his gut. It's definitely keeping emotions in check that's taken the greatest toll on young T'ral. He looks at Arianne sidelong, some of his good humor returning, "You're good at this," he says. "When can I get lessons? Real ones."

"If it makes you feel any better, I still have to keep my emotions contained most of the time. The negative ones anyway - Caelth reacts to them very strongly." Ari smiles vaguely, clueing in the weyrling to why there are times she also looks exhausted for no apparent reason. "You'd really like to be a Dragonhealer then?" her tone and expression both brighten to cheerfulness at that. "As soon as you graduate weyrlinghood. Until then, once you have some free time - you're welcome to come to the Dragon Infirmary and see how things are done there if you'd like."

T'ral looks up at Caelth, suddenly forbidding. Well. Suddenly extra forbidding. No. That's not better at all. Please don't let that be me. "Oh," he looks at Arianne, "That sounds difficult." He grins, "But easier working with Nika, eh?" He hadn't formally met the Serval Wingrider, but that she was cheerful was hard to miss. About dragonhealing, he shrugs, "I'm not sure. I can't say I feel called to it. But it's important, right?" He blinks, "Nothing more important, really." Now. Considering.

"We all have our little things." Arianne looks back at Caelth with a mixture of both fondness and exasperation in her expression. "And Nika is absolutely wonderful. She's indispensible to my sanity, I'm fairly certain." She looks and sounds like she's joking. But she's definitely -not- in this case. "Well, I consider it important. And I expect the other dragonhealers do too. But you needn't feel obligated to do it." is pointed out, a lilt of curiosity in her voice. "Without dragons, Pern wouldn't survive. So it is certainly a good thing that there are people willing to look after their injuries."

"I want to learn everything," he admits knowing full well the impossibility of everything. Or even a fraction of everything. He cocks his head at Arianne, "How will that work, when-" his mouth thins, jaw muscles clenching, "When Thread comes, will you fight or be here?" It's been rather hammered home that people and dragons will get hurt. Killed.

"Since I'm currently Serval's Wingleader I'll be up there fighting thread." Looking up at the sky, Arianne's lips just press together resolutely. "The rest of the dragonhealers in my wing, and I assume the ones in Puma, will rotate between duty in the infirmary or as a fighting dragon in the wing." she admits then, as if she's going through a mental checklist of everyone who meets that designation somehow. "It may depend on where people are needed most on any given day. And some may start the Fall by being in the air, then helping in the infirmary when it's time for them to switch out."

T'ral nods. He's quiet for a long time, watching Esanth, picking out the dragonets whose landing techniques he wants to study. The gliding is about to begin and T'ral puts a hand to his forehead at the surge of excitement from Esanth. "Show time." He takes a deep breath and lets it out, looking sidelong at Arianne again, "Thanks."

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