"Because they don't have time to play any more." K'vvan's voice rings out reasonably across the training ground as he watches from a seat in the shadows as Nadeeth spins lazily in the sky up above. "We've got Thread remember?" His fingers wave vaguely in the sky like he's attempting to show how the thread is absorbing time from everyone. His heavy coat is laid to one side as the temperature has somehow found its way back up to bearable, if not pleasant, temperatures.

Ivy hasn't been out on the training grounds much since she was made a senior, and with wing-tapping hopefully in the near future, but today she emerges from the barracks looking annoyed. Udath has remained on the grounds, waiting patiently and watching Nadeeth, but generally keeping to himself. Probably given some time to decide, Ivy wouldn't bother saying anything to the greenrider she suddenly (figuratively, fortunately) stumbles upon, but instinct takes over with a salute and an unenthused, "Oh. Hi."

"Weyrling." K'vvan's eyes don't quite leave his dragon in the dragon, though they do flick down to the girl with her brown dragon. The conversation bug seems to have him caught him for some reason because after tearing his eyes away from his dragon he points them right at the weyrling. "How is he," and a nod at the brown, "doing in the cold?"

And she still is one, technically…it'll be so nice when she's not, but for now Ivy still has to acknowledge it. Rather surprised to be asked a question, she looks over at Udath as well. As his rider's returned, the brown heaves himself up and pads towards her. "He doesn't really seem to notice it. Does Nadeeth?"

"Sometimes. Not as cold as between, but enough of a change." K'vvan pushes himself to his feet and reaches down to brush at the nonexistent dirt that clings to his pants. "How about you? You wuss out when it dips below fires-of-hell?" The greenrider's back is to the girl as he continues to bat at the dirt that may or may not actually be there.

Udath is poking at Ivy with his blocky snout; she busies herself with batting at it before continuing with the conversation. Such as it is. "Well we can handle between just fine. And it's fine in the sun." Aww, they're talking about the weather! "I'm not from the Weyr anyway. It's colder at the Sea Hall."

K'vvan's attention shifts abruptly from his pants to fix upon the girl. Silence drops for a few seconds. "Why the hell did you want to be a rider girl? Those oldtimers, I get them. They didn't have a chance, but why would a girl like you, from a good family decide to go and thow away a chance ar marriage and all that s*it?"

An unexpected question from K'vvan, with some depth to it, for all it's rudely delivered. And Ivy doesn't even have a really good answer for it, though it's not the first time someone's asked it. Resting a hand on Udath's muzzle, she frowns at the ground before replying hesitantly, "I…I'm not really sure. I got Searched and I wanted to come. I didn't think about it much past that."

"Sharding Faranth take it girl…" K'vvan throws his arms up in the air and turns away from the girl. He even takes a few steps away before whirling back on the weyrling and advancing. "You sharding well can't give it back," K'vvan waves a hand at the brown dragon (though he does keep his hand away… just in case Udath decides to bite), "Do you f*king at least know why you're a dragonrider now?"

The sleek brown will probably not bite, but he is watching K'vvan very closely and he isn't averse to showing a little bit of tooth if the greenrider gets too close or too flaily. "Yes," she answers the last question first, and sharply, and then, astounded, "Why would I ever want to give him back?"

Prudence thy name is not K'vvan. The greenrider advances right on the shorter woman till he is just a foot away. A finger pokes out though it stops well short of Ivy's chest. "Why. Tell me why you're a rider now and what that sharding means to you." He has his best grumpy face on, the one where he manages to look much older than his almost twenty-two years. Lips form a tight line once the words are out awaiting the girl's reply.

And a good thing, because if Udath didn't get him for a chest-poke, Ivy probably would. He doesn't get the 'drunk off his ass' pass this time. The grumpy face, while very grumpy indeed, only makes Ivy more unwilling to comply with the questioning. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"F*ck that." K'vvan digs around in a pocket for a second, pulling out two objects. One, the knot for Arroyo, the other a curiously soft blue scarf. The pair are shoved at the weyrling as K'vvan taps his toe impatiently. "I'm your f*king wingsecond, and now answer the d*mn question." He'll stand there till the girl takes the objects from him, and glower.

Well that's awkward. Ivy bites her lip and looks at the knot…the scarf gets a glance too, but mostly the knot. She does not take the objects, not yet. Drawing herself up, pale gaze fixed on her grumpy wingsecond, she tackles the question stiffly. "I'm a rider because Udath chose me," and "It means that my life is forfeit to everyone on the planet who can't protect themselves from the Thread."

"That's a sharding academic answer. You got anything that wasn't spoonfed from the weyrlingmasters?" K'vvan taps a toe in the general direction of the girl. The items in his hands are shoved closer, this time almost right to her chest. "And sharding take this f*king stuff. The scarf works best around your neck but folds enough to shove in a pocket."

Udath senses Nadeeth twines a playful ribbon around the thoughts of the younger dragon. «Welcome.»

Udath rumbles softly until Ivy pushes at his muzzle, "Shush," and then turns a dark look to K'vvan, reaching out to pluck the knot and the scarf from the rider's hands. The scarf does go right in a pocket, though she keeps the knot clenched in her fingers. "I guess I could spout some bullsh*t about honor and duty, if you'd prefer? But I guess I got the impression you didn't go for that kind of thing."

Udath thinks to you, « I bespoke Nadeeth with: Udath replies with slow amber sweetness, though unable to keep an edge of worry out of his tone. « It is an honor to fly with you. » At least he'll use the h-word. »

"Honor? That is bulls*it." K'vvan folds his arms across his chest still glowering at the girl before him. But maybe his expression softens just slightly as he goes on. "Duty is the only reason we do this. Because we've got something the rest of the planet doesn't have, and without us they'd all f*king die. That means we have a duty to everyone, even the f*king bastards," like K'vvan? "who we would rather see staked out into the desert while Thread eats them alive." K'vvan's gentle voice lasts all of two seconds before it twists up on the vehemence. "You'll take your life, and his," K'vvan jerks a thumb at the brown dragon, "into your hands every f*king time we fight thread. You aren't your own any more. The moment Kanyith, Iolarth calls out you drop anything- even if you've got your f*king legs open, and you get your a** into the sky." The rant ends abruptly with K'vvan turning away from the newest Arroyo. "Drills are mid-morning. You start tomorrow."

Udath senses Nadeeth tugs at the worry, spreading it thinly between them. «You and yours will be well with us.» Firm conviction helps brush back that worry as Nadeeth spins her ribbons gaily. «We will fly together, and be victorious.»

"That's what I said before," Ivy points out, "Only with fewer words." But K'vvan always manages to get the better of her and she blushes hard at the implication of what she might be doing when the call to fight thread comes. She shoves her hands in her pockets and mumbles to the greenrider's back, "I'll be there." And she will. Because in reality she is nothing if not dutiful.

K'vvan seems to be done being all responsible-like, and his footfalls beat a staccato against the ground as he leaves the training grounds. He might actually be muttering under his breath though, something about females and not understanding anything at all.

Udath thinks to you, « I bespoke Nadeeth with: Udath basks in the ribbons, easily soothed by a voice of confidence. « Tomorrow then, we will fly. » »