Who

Ginger & Shokravanth, Ev'rett & Ishevhaeth, Ryott & Wrayth, Rh'uan & Wahgerharth

What

A group of weyrling dragonets get to test their wings for real for the very first time.

When

It is noon of the twenty-eighth day of the tenth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Training Grounds

OOC Date 22 Apr 2019 04:00

 

ginger_default.jpg ev-rett_default.jpg ryott_default.jpg rh-uan_default.jpg
shokravanth_default.jpg ishevhaeth_default.jpg wrayth_default.jpg wahgerharth_default.jpg

"Right, listen up. Today's the day. I've no doubt your dragons are itching to get going at this, but first they've got to watch and listen, and so have you."


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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 eighty-eighth day of Spring and 94 degrees. It is sunny and bright. The skies are clear.


Lunchtime has come and gone, and it's a hot hot Southern afternoon. Shokravanth has positioned himself towards one end of the training grounds, with Ginger waiting in his shadow as the next class assembles. If his eyes are whirling in particularly cheerful shades of blue and green, that's perhaps understandable, because today some of his charges are going to try their wings for the first time. « Come! Come! Be ready to listen and watch! This is the day you've waited for, but if you don't pay attention, you'll regret it! » He seems quite happy about that! His rider's less exuberant, and just calls, "Gather round, everyone, and listen."

ISHEVHAETH IS SO HERE FOR THIS. The baby bronze is be-bopping around his lifemate with the unflaggable enthusiasm of the very young. Ev'rett, despite being not terribly old, has this kind of jaded look on his face as the two of them approach Ginger and Shokravanth. « I will pay all of the attention I have, » Ish says, his voice so very serious. He pulls up like a cat, weight balanced on his haunches, tail curled around his front paws. Ev'r moves past his lifemate to close in on Ginger, his face attentive as he salutes the assistant weyrlingmaster. This is not the time to fuck around with his typical bullshit, apparently.

Even though she wears her usual impassive mask, Ryott's stomach is twisting in excited knots as the day has finally arrived for Wrayth to test out her wings for the first times. The excitement may not be all her own as Wrayth rushes ahead of her at an easy job, heaving in the direction of Shokravanth. The larger gold dragonet is not usually the best at paying attention, but there's a fierce alertness as she settles across from the brown, her lithe body practically humming with anticipation, rose-masked visage turned attentively towards him. When Ryott catches up, she casts a suspicious glance at her lifemate, not trusting this obedient Wrayth, but not questioning it for the moment. Instead, she turns her attention, with a salute of acknowledgement in Ginger's direction.

Ginger returns the offered salutes all at once. "Right, listen up. Today's the day. I've no doubt your dragons are itching to get going at this, but first they've got to watch and listen, and so have you." She looks round, trying to catch everyone's eye. "We're going to keep the first flight very short and simple - just the length of the training ground, if they make it that far. Shokravanth is going to demonstrate what they have to do, and I'll talk you through it. Then your dragons will go one at a time, and the rest will watch. Shokravanth will fly alongside each dragon. Before that, though, they need to do some wing stretches." The exercise is a familiar one: they've been practising this. "I want those wing muscles nicely warmed up before anyone tries flying." She turns to her brown. "Shokravanth, give us the time, would you?" Shokravanth begins slowly spreading his wings to full extenstion, then closing them again. "Off you go, then."

Rh'uan had been here the whole time, promise! He stands quietly with the gathered weyrlings and watches as Wahgerharth meneauvers to join the rest of the dragonets in stretching their wings. He's a beat behind but soon catches up, perhaps skipping a stretch or two to do so.

Ishevhaeth immediately sets himself to the exercises, at a speed that has Ev'rett flinching visibly and turning. "No, quiet, slowly." The young man braces a hand against the gilded bronze of Ishevhaeth's face, and the dragon immediately gentles, relaxation rounding the curves of his muscle. "Better," he mutters, more to himself than to the dragon, but Ishevhaeth listens anyhow, pulling himself more upright in pride. His wings are a brilliant cape against his black-bodied dimness, and they shimmer with the legacy of his ichor as he cups his 'sails under the warm Rukbat rays.

« More stretches? » Wrayth asks on a private band to her bonded, and Ryott responds in kind, Got to warm up those muscles first. C'mon, if you can actually behave yourself for once, you'll be flying today. There's a bit of a grumble from Wrayth though as she begrudgingly acquiesces, her vast pyrite wings stretched out and quickly catching the rhythm with with Shokravanth moves his. Ryott takes a moment to take a deep breath and send her gold encouraging thoughts along their private channel, telling her how much it will be worth it. She gets mostly contempt back but the young queen dilligently continues the warm-ups, her more public mind pulsing crimson, coloring the light coming from the lanterns strung over the busy Night Market, with it's multi-colored tents as far as the eye can see.

Wahgerharth's scape is busy, zoomed in to the actual surface of his lush jungle planet. The things and shadows that lurk in the foliage shave gathered in excitement, the broad leaves of the plants shivering with their excitement. «The stretches aren't that bad… » is aimed in Wrayth's direction, there's a boost of confidence there as the bronze moves his own copper spattered wings to the rhythm their instructor sets. Rh'uan relaxes further at this point, or tries to. He'd been ready to get on Wahgerharth about skipping those few excersises, but the bronze is encouraging others and working his muscles correctly now, so her remains silent for the most part, watching for other issues. (Hope I didn't skip anyone, had to answer the phone again and don't want to hold y'all up.)

Ginger walks round the group as the weyrlings exercise, watching each dragon as wings are stretched. "Ishvehaeth, do it the same speed as Shokravanth. Good, Wrayth, keep it up. Good rhythm there, Wahgerharth. And now lets have some gentle flaps…. Gentle, I said!" Shokravanth changes to slow up and down movements that will stretch the muscles differently, whilst sending peaceful images of stars overhead and the sensation of those wings gently beating whilst actually in the air. « This is how it should feel - how it will feel, once you are flying well. »

Ev'rett doesn't cease his contact with his lifemate, and the extra control pays off in spades: the young bronze's eyes start whirling slower as he concentrates, mimicking Shovkravanth's wing stretches - finally - at the correct speed. Then it's flapping time, and Ev'rett expends himself again: Ish yanks his head out of his lifemate's hands like a hound smelling game for the first time, and requires low, hard words to refocus. Eventually, Ev'r takes a few steps off, his eyes roving over his lifemate. Ishevhaeth's own mind explodes out with the force of the birth of a thousand galaxies, his worldstone giving life as it breaks apart. The human part of the bond glances finally at the others in this group, furrowing his eyebrows at Wrayth and nodding to himself at Wahgerharth's movements before turning his attention yet again to Ginger.

White hot sparks flare over the busy market of the gold's mind, a release for the excitement building inside her. From the first morning after her hatching when she scraped her chin after trying to fly for the first time, it's been the thing most desired above all else. Flying meant freedom, to explore it all with Ryott. Mistmatched eyes are riveted on Shokravanth and when he changes the movements of the stretches, she matches them easily, rumbling in surprise at the subtle change and how it feels. Ryott stands back with a most intense look on her dark features, a mixture of fear and anticipation fighting for top of her emotions at that moment, the only hint at the conflict being the dark cast of her brows over those stormy near ebony eyes of her.

Rh'uan is showing nerves, if one knows him well enough to know that he fidgets when he's nervous. A tug of the ear here, a short sigh there, the shift from foot to foot, shoving his hands in his pockets… His coppery bronze seems to transition fine and begins flapping just a beat after the others, the celestial swirl of his sails becomes quite hypnotic as the excersise continues. Rh'uan has to break himself out of it now and again and look at the others. "They look great… " He comments to the others, trying to stir up conversation, if there's any to be had.

Ginger allows a short period for flapping, but soon gives the order, "And, stop. Good." Shokravanth folds his wings, then steps away from the class, facing down the training grounds. Ginger waits until he's in position. "Good. While they're learning, I want you to make sure they warm up like that before flying. Once they're flying more strongly - and more regularly - it won't be necessary. But for now, do it. Right. Everyone watch Shokravanth." The brown adds his own encouragement to the dragon halves of the weyrling pairs. « You watch too. I'm going to show you what to do. » He takes a couple of bounding steps, gathering his muscles, then leaps into the air, spreading his wings to their full extent. "See how he gets himself moving then gives a really good jump." A downbeat takes him higher, then another, and another. "They aren't to go too high, this time." He doesn't climb further, but flies level until he's most of the way down the field. Then he glides down, and lands, angling his wings to slow himself and bending his knees to absorb the shock. Shokravanth is giving his own hints as he goes. « A little back-wing to slow yourself. » He sends the sensation of that. « And bend your knees when you land. » Then he turns round and repeats the entire process in the other direction. "I want your dragons each to do exactly that. Are there any questions?"

Ishevhaeth ceases, and resumes a pose of readiness, crouched low to the ground. His eyes affix on Shokravanth with something sacred embodied within the whirling depths; to one side, his more secular and irreligious lifemate looks on with more concern of the mechanics than the spirituality of the moment. "No questions here," is reported from the pair, after a moment of internal conferring.

Wrayth continues her stretches until instructed to stop. Ryott takes note of what Ginger is telling them about stretching before any flights for the next little while, nodding worldlessly in response. Even Rh'uan's attempt at conversation is given a dimissive sidelong glance. There's too much going on for idle chit chat and she needs to focus. Furling her wings onto her back, Wrayth watches as Shkravanth shows them what they are expected to do. Muscles twitch as he shares the sensations of landing properly, her own knees bending reflexively before she replies with a sharp, « Understood. » and readies herself for the next part, the important bit really. For her part Ryott tilts her head a moment, considering if she might have any questions, but she quickly shakes her head, "None here." she states simply before running her fingers nervously through her short dark locks.

Rh'uan notes that Wahgerharth is slower to stop once the command is given, though a few extra flaps in lieu of the missed stretches earlier is no big thing. Rh'uan is focused on Ginger while Wahgerharth trains his attention on Shokravanth. Rh'uan bolsters him as best he can while taking mental notes and hopes all goes well. Once the internal turmoil settles, the bronzling pair seems to relax. "No questions here ma'am."

Ginger scans the class for possible questions. As there aren't any, she gives a grin and says, "Right, we'll see how well you all took it in. Now, who's first up… Ev'rett, let's start with Ishevhaeth. He can start next to Shokravanth - this side of him, please." The brown obligingly moves over to allow the young bronze more room, and turns to face the way they'll be flying. « I will fly alongside you, but don't watch me now: you need to look where you're going! »

The quiver of energy that is Ishevhaeth is nearly hard to look at, he's shining so brightly in the moment: the young bronze bounds forward to take his place in Shokravanth's shadow, shaking out his wings and readying himself for what is to come. Ev'rett paces a bit off, so he can have a better angle at it, and when the mark is given, Ish goes as he has been told: at first it's fumbling, the big bounding steps to wind kinetic energy in his favor. With a whoosh of abrupt and explosive power, the young dragon launches from the ground, his wide wings vast for a moment of internal propulsion. Internal, or perhaps eternal: his lift is surprising, and with two wingbeats Ev'r can be heard muttering to himself, "No further, right there, yes, right there," with his heart in his throat, and perhaps a bit in his eyes, too. In flight, the cumbersome beast turns into something… remarkable, the lithe lines abruptly aerodynamic, his sleek regard brilliant against the blue skies. The end of the training ground looms, finally, and after a moment of visible fighting the baby bronze backwings, coming to an awkwardly-executed landing, his knees extravagently bent. Ev'rett bursts into laughter immediately thereafter, more due to relief than anything, and half-jogs the distance, heedless of anyone else. Ish lifts his head high and trumpets his success to the world.

Shokravanth flies alongside Ishevhaeth, sending words of encouragement, and a bright starburst when the young bronze lands. He touches down too, but immediately takes off again to fly back to where the others are waiting. « You can walk back and join the others. That was well done. Better to bend your knees a little much than to have a hard landing - your rider will thank you! » Ginger calls, "He did well, Ev'rett. Back here now, please. Looks good in the air, doesn't he?" Then she turns to Ryott. "As soon as Shokravanth's back, Wrayth can go." The brown is soon in position again.

Curling her dagger-like talons into the loose ground, Wrayth watches as Ishevhaeth does his first flight, a flash of envy as he glides the length of the Training grounds. Ryott reaches out to stroke her queen's neck reassuringly, trying to hide the tremble of her own hand. And then Ginger is calling on them, and she replies with a hard, "Yes Ma'am," her features pulled into her unreadable mask as she finalyl pulls her fingers from Wrayth's hide. It's time. Let's show 'em. she relays, her gold replying with a rush of sea air, salt clinging to lips. Once Shokravanth has returned to the start, ever graceful, Wrayth takes up her position next to him. When given the go ahead, wings are unfurled in the first few bounding steps, her lean body coiling almost impossibly small before she kicks off with powerful hindquarters and, remember to sweep her expansive wings down at the same time, she finally breaks free from gravity's hold and climbs higher still, an exultant trill uncharacteristic of the mostly quiet queen. At her size, it takes even less strokes than the bronze to get to the required height, although when Wrayth levels out, it's a bit higher than was demonstrated, but she's learning right? Ryott isn't quite aware that she's following the gold's progress on the ground with quick steps, her eyes and mind both trained on her lifemate. When she gets close to the end, Ryott exerts all her influence to get the gold to actually come down again, it's luckily only a briefly battle. Backwinging to slow her approach, Wrayth skips a bit along the gound before finally landing firmly with a bend of her knees, before coming to a skittering stop. By this time Ryott's runnign flat out and throws herself at Wrayth's neck, hugging it fiercely. In about two minutes, the teen is going to be very embaressed to have done that.

Shokravanth flies alongside Wrayth, as well, ready to give any advice that's needed. « No higher, that is fine. Carry on like that. » As she comes into land, he glides lower but doesn't touch down; instead he turns to fly back as soon as she's on the ground. Whilst the young gold's landing isn't perfect, it's not a dangerous one, so he adds, « That was a good first attempt. Landing takes lots of practice! » Ginger isn't going to shout the length of the training grounds, so she has Shokravanth pass on a message. « You and yours can walk back; you can fly again soon. » Then she turns to Rh'uan. "As soon as Shokravanth's on the ground again, Wahgerharth can go." Shokravanth land and turns, with an encouraging croon for the young bronze.

Rh'uan walks with his bronze to Shokravanth's side, his hand on Wahg's coppery hide. Once in position, Rh'uan moves off giving both dragons a wide berth. He ends up near Ginger just as Wahgerharth begins his first running leap. It takes him a couple of tries and false starts to get airborne, and once there he's a bit shaky until he's gained some height. He stops roughly where they were told to and begins the short flight to the end of the grounds. The moment is surreal for both rider and dragon. Wahgerharth tastes the freedom of the skies, of feeling weightless and at times, Rh'uan shares in this, Wahgerharth'vision superimposed upon his own at times. It's elating, and dizzying and when Wahg turns to fly back, Rh'uan has to sit down, his senses assaulted by Wahgerharth's sensory input. It has him a bit green around the gills as the copper-flecked bronze comes in for a shaky landing, likely landing a bit harder than necessary.

« Don't tur- Too late. All right, fly back and land. » Shokravanth turns too, and accompanies Wahgerharth back, landing alongside the young bronze. Ginger moves rapidly over to Rh'uan. "Did I say he should do a turn?" To which the answer is clearly no. But she crouches by the sitting bronzerider, watching until the bronze has landed before speaking again. "What's wrong? Queasy? Take some deep breaths. If his movements make you feel ill, you need to separate him and you, like you do for hunger and so on. He landed a bit hard there, but that'll come with practice - but he doesn't need you putting him off. Feeling better?" She looks up to the rest of the group. "Everyone check that your dragon is feeling all right after that - no aches, strains, grazes…."

Ishevhaeth is whole and unharmed, and — elated. There is already the sense of change in the wind, like chemicals rushing to the brain, and the nascent multiverse that he holds within him seems all the more pregnant with possibility. It's been a good day, and even the class asshole has a broad smile for the image of Ryott leaping to that fierce hug of her lifemate, and a stuttered cough-laugh for Wahgerharth proving his prowess with a turn. There's more of a hint of concern for Rh'uan: more for being in projectile vomit range than otherwise, let's face it, but still. When Ginger calls the class dismissed, the slender bronzerider nods to both Ryott and Rh'uan before departing with his lifemate toward the beach, no doubt for another round of scrubbing. Both of them are waiting with baited breath, now, for when bronzewalker turns into bronzerider — and surely they aren't alone, with that teaser of freedom now flagging the flames of young minds and eager hearts.

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