It's a beautiful day in Southern - and a restday. Fiyah's made her way down from the weyr to the river, and then back to this particular glorious sight. She's down at the bottom of the vast waterfall, sunning herself on a damp rock, big and black and glossy from overspray, while Rhisaelth entertains herself under the powerful draught of water. The greenrider isn't far from the little bridge between the lakeshore and cave, though she's not paying attention to much other than drowsing in the sun. This is the life, y'all.

Maikah is dressed in his summer uniform of singlet and shorts (and boots, ALWAYS the boots) and is quite frankly meandering about with no other purpose than to give Pard and Shep a little bit of exercise. And of course the collies are full of energy and excitement and the desire to explore ALL the things. It is probably Shep who discovers the drowsing green weyrling, but Maikah is quick to whistle her back with a sharp command. It is that noise that breaks the peaceful lull of the waterfall. "Shep! Heel!" Maikah is careful not to let his pups range too close to the dragon, he's learned MUCH since he's come to the Weyr (e.g. Lil critters of all descriptions are crunchy and taste good with ketchup)

Especially voracious, possessive Rhisaelth who swings around at the whistle, her eyes whirling at high-speed to sight the alleged threat to her Fiyah. The blonde lifts a single hand to keep her over there and not over here, before propping up on an elbow to peer over at the puppies - and Maikah. She lifts her hand in greeting and then whistles a greeting for that dog that just bounced away from her.

Poor Pard! There are two sets of whistles she's trying to parse. And unfortunately that causes her to just kinda stop equidistant between the pair of humans with a whine and a head cocked in confusion. Maikah being who he is, will just saunter that little bit closer and give her a little physical reassurance before speaking. "Sorry." The most important thing first. "Didn't know we'd run into anyone out here."

"Ditto," Fiyah replies, her voice bright as always; the blonde props up fully on her elbows, shifting to shade her eyes from the sunlight. "Pretty pups," she says. "Come out here often?" She'd get up, but she's WAAAAY too lazy to do something like that. Rhisaelth, meanwhile, lurks closer despite her lifemate's instruction.

Maikah cocks his head, and looks them over. "Pretty and smart." There is a hint of a smile under his beard for that comment. Shep may be reassured, but Pard is a little more suspicious, especially as that dragon starts drifting closer. That pup is going to go into the jungle now. "Good dogs. Great with sheep too." Because they work for a living. "Not much. Usually in the fields, sometimes though we wander the jungle. See if we can't find something interesting."
"Well, I'm sorry you haven't found anything interesting here." Fiyah's grin is swift as she finally sits up, drawing her legs in to sit indian-style. She makes that ticking cluck noise that most dog people master early in life to greet the remaining collie, reaching out a hand in enticement. "Sheep, huh? I've always had more a preference to goats." Because somehow they inhabit the same animal space.

"I dunno how to shear a goat." Maikah jokes in that quiet way of his, before releasing Pard with a reassuring scratch. Pard is all kinds of friendly, so she's just going to propel herself forward with her helicoptering tail to give THE LOVE TO FIYAH. HELLO KISSES! ALL THE KISSES~! "There's a story in the hall here about a sheep…" OF course it's a bloody sheep story. "… that went missing for turns. Half his weight was fleece." And Maikah would love to find one of those beasties all of his own thanks! "Maikah, Herder journeyman." And he drops his introduction in as he follows behind Pard, holding a hand out as if this exact moment is the proper one to make an introduction.

"Depends on the goat," Fiyah impudently replies. "But the cashmere goats I worked with don't get sheared - you hand comb them." Them mohair goats, though… She laughs at Pard's kisses, digging her hands into that coat to get them good itchy spots of ear and chest and along the spine. "He probably got eaten," Fiyah has to add to Maikah's story about the sheep. She untangles one of her hands to reach up to shake his: "Fiyah," she says, "Green Rhisaelth's. Weyrling." Rhis makes a low noise, not far off at all now.

Maikah is very subtle about how he's trying to put Fiyah between himself (and Pard) and the slowly approaching Rhisaelth, but with that low noise, all sneakiness is abandoned for a little bit more speed than the laconic journeyman usually displays when he's not chasing wayward sheep. "Well met." His deep baritone certainly doesn't betray any nervousness on his part, even as his blue eyes lift for a moment to judge things like distances, and the undergrowth. "That'd be a pain here." Cos of twigs. "Sounds like you were a herder before." Because most people can't name goat breeds, unless they have an unhealthy love for the creatures right?

"Journeyman," Fiyah replies with an irreverent grin for his swift movement. Rhisaelth comes out of the water like an old sea monster, her head surging up and out to rest on the rocky shelf next to her lifemate. Fiyah caresses fingers over the wet snout absently, playing with a smoky grey line over that blackjade hide. "It's not bad, necessarily, just tedious." Hand-combing, ostensibly. "The ones I've seen are down south, though. Towards Southern Barrier."

"Makes sense." Maikah manages to gulp out as Rhisaelth surges towards them all. "Too many twigs in the jungle." He is keeping his sense of humor at least. "Hello dragon." Sure he should probably know her name, but he doesn't. He is making an effort to be polite though, even as Pard decides that now would be a good time to find her mate. LIKE REALLY FAST. "I like shearing, it's over quickly." There is some pride in his voice. "I don't do badly at it." He's a champion shearer.

Rhisaelth lifts her head up and over Fiyah - "Hey!" the protest as she drips cold riverwater over her sunwarmed lifemate's bare hide - to sniff suspiciously at Maikah. Her nose is huge yo, even though she's just a biddy baby green. "I don't think I'd do very well at it. Clipping fuzzies is about as far as I go. But if you cut one when shearing, I can stitch it up." Beasthealer FTW.

Maikah smells like dog and sheep and trees…and sweat, cos it is summer, it's a lovely concotion that is uniquely herder. He is quick to clasp a hand to his chest. "My dad would give me the hiding of my life if I cut a sheep." It's mock-horror, but horror none-the-less. "Grew up doing it. It's a bit tricky." He concedes, tilting his head at the dripping snout that is all up in his face. "I let you pat my bit…" NO MAIKAH. "Do you think she'd like a little scratch." He changes the direction of his words once he realises that it probably isn't a good idea to imply something is a bitch if she can understand him. Sorry Rhisaelth.

Thankfully for everyone, Rhisaelth doesn't follow that whole bitch line of discussion. She does blow a gust of breath against Maikah however. Fiyah finally gains her feet, dodging around her lifemate's head to stand. "No sheep-cutting," noted, says Fiyah's tone, amused. "Sure, why not," the greenling also says. "Her nose. Her eyeridges are very sharp." They ARE, the blade-edged green hustling to get the itchy things closer to Maikah despite her lifemate's warning.

Just like every other schmuck in Southern Maikah has a firelizard, but their relationship is a true bro-mance, so this may be the first time the Herder journeyman has had any prolonged contact with draconic hide. "Sharp?" He seems a little concerned. "Just the eyeridges?" His eyes are naturally going to check to see if her thighs are cut up or otherwise scarred… sometimes his thoughts are that transparent. "I didn't know they came in sharp." He admits, but he probably hasn't spent as much time thinking about dragons. It is his turn to display the mark of a true herder, that almost instinctive ability to find the itchy spot, and scratch it with the speed and pressure that guarentees satisfaction.

Fiyah's thighs are tanned and shapely. No scarring to be found. She lifts her brows at that look, though, not knowing exactly what spurred it. "Very edgy." It makes more sense when Rhisaelth moves her eyeridges against his hand when he hits that spot. It's super jabby, like a bony spine just underneath the thick-soft dragonhide. "Watch out, she'll follow you home if you're not careful." The laughter in Fiyah's voice disguises the fact that Rhisaelth probably would totally follow Maikah home.

"Don't think she'd fit on the bed." Maikah points out with ALL INNOCENCE, even as he arches his fingers to try and avoid the poke-y bone-spikes and continue the scratches. "Probably upset the dogs too." Cos they've pretty much noped the fuck home by now. Wait, where is he going? "Seems nice enough though." Because she's responding in all the ways he'd expect, leaning in and moving to maximise the effect of his fingers. "So her neckridges aren't like this?" By this he means the spiky things he's trying his best not to prick himself on.

"Oh, they are. You just have to know how to ride them." Fiyah likely doesn't mean for her voice to be that sly, but it's hard not to be given how easy a line it is. Rhisaelth whuffs once and then abruptly rears back. She makes a weird squeaking noise, squeak-huff, shakes her head a little, wriggle-wriggle, and then Fiyah pushes her away from the rock just about the time the green sneezes with the force and velocity of a minor hurricane. In the aftermath: "… well then."

Maikah would have quirked a brow, and continued the conversation as it starts wandering towards something that has his ears pricked. But alas, he is kind of sneezed on, which has the same effect as a cold shower, as meat-eater breath and (hopefully not too much) spray covers him from head to toe. "That's not so nice. Healthy though" He points out, wiping his face… "I should probably get cleaned up?" The question is for whether or not he uses the nice waterfall right there, or toddles off to leave Fiyah and Rhisaelth to their privacy.

"Nice to meet you!" Fiyah calls after the Herder, taking a moment to glare up at Rhisaelth in some private conversation. "Have fun with your sheep!" That probably came out wrong. But the greenling takes no time at all to scale her lifemate's neckridges and gtfo before this gets any more embarrassing than a dragon sneeze.