Who

Xanthee, G'tan

What

G'tan comes across Xanthee and he has a little something for her.

When

It is evening of the seventh day of the ninth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lake Shore, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 06 Dec 2018 05:00

 

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"Just means she'll fit in with the prettiest wing in the Weyr, aye?"


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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


With autumn arrived, the evening brings a small relief from the day's heat and some people are taking advantage. It must have been a busy day if Xanthee is only now managing to get to Liowyth's oiling, working just outside their weyr at the edge of the lake. The soft glowlight she is working under catches the emerald hue of the green's hide, flashing brightly as the large green moves around to aid in the process. Her rider though is somewhat lost in her thoughts, the repetitive nature of oiling allowing her to split her focus. The other half of her focus is spent going over a list of how many weyrlings have been tapped versus who hasn't. This greenling is in the latter camp and it doesn't exactl have her worried yet, but she's definitely perplexed by it, especially given the position she held. She thought she'd be a prime candidate to snap right up. But apparently she was wrong.

Perhaps that's precisely why Xanthee hasn't been snapped up right away! G'tan has noticed, of course. The greenling is one he's had his eye on for a while despite the fact that he's a mere wingrider for now. But being a part of Whirlwind has its perks. Zinakoth glides in at the end of a long spiral, alighting in the water with practiced ease and rumbling a greeting at pretty young Liowyth, a gentle gust of warm desert evening wind whispering across the edges of her mindscape to go with it. The bronzerider with him is ambling along the strand, hands in his shorts pockets and satchel slung across from shoulder to hip. "Sometimes they're so pretty it's a wonder they even need oil," he observes, canting a little grin at Xanthee that likely looks far too boyish for a man his age to be managing. "Though it could make you wanna oil 'em all the more, I suppose."

The bronze's approach has Liowyth taking notice, lifting her head and craning her neck to call out a crooned greeting in his direction, always up for meeting new draconic folk, especially recently. The warm gurst of air sets her pink clouds to dancing along her mindscape as a soft giggle is carried along. Not even her lifemate's reaction pulls Xanthee from her reverie, it's only when G'tan gets close enough to adress her that she blinks in surprise and swivels her gaze around. Once she recognizes him, her body relaxes visibly, clad still in her weyrling uniform of yellow and black from drills earlier in the day. "Pretty is an understatement when it comes to Liowyth," Xan replies with pride as she takes a step back just to look over her lifemate, who has grown into a gorgeous green who dwarfs most of her color in the Weyr. "Lucky for me Liowyth doesn't seem to need as frequent oiling as some, cause there's still a lot of her," she retorts smartly before she remembers herself finally and puts down the oiling brush to knock off a smart salute.

« Liowyth. » Zinakoth's mental tone is mellow and as warm as the breezes that constantly breathe through the canyons of his mind. He presents a quite, tranquil haven to the young green, ruddy sandstone lit by carefully-placed lanterns along curving gravel paths and intricately carved facades fronting ancient galleries of stone, a star-washed evening sky arching high above. « You are well, young one? Content? » G'tan grins as he returns Xanthee's salute. "Can't argue that. Though, y'know. You could have ended up with more to oil." He tilts a sidelong glance at the greenrider, a sandy brow arching. "Just means she'll fit in with the prettiest wing in the Weyr, aye?"

« Just great, thanks for asking. We keep learning more with each passing day. » And to Liowyth and her pursuit of knowlege about everything, that is the pinnacle of achievement. She rustles her wings slightly with bubbling excitement, much to Xanthee's chagrin as the fidgeting does little to help with the oiling. The green has certainly been more exciteable lately, which has been puzzling the raven-haired girl. A silent request for her to please stand still passes from rider to dragon, to whick Lio complies, before the greenling can chuckle at G'tan's comment about having more to oil. "I could have at that I suppose. Not that I'd trade Liowyth for any other dragon on Pern of course," there's that look of pride again as she sneaks another look at her pretty green. His last doesn't register immediately, Xan has to run it through her head a little bit to try and figure out what he's saying. What does he mean? "There's a prettiest wing? I never knew that…is this general knowledge?" She's trying hard not to lose face, but she's a little confused.

Zinakoth rumbles with quiet amusement, a lone desert canine yipping somewhere far in the distance above his canyons. « Be still for yours, young one; I am certain she is nearly done, » the bronze advises. « Once you are truly with a wing, you will learn more still. » G'tan feigns surprise at Xanthee's last, folding brawny arms upon his chest as sandy brows arch high. "Of course there is! It's Whirlwind; I thought that was obvious." He can't quite keep a straight face, holding onto it for several long moment before breaking into chuckling. "Every wing thinks they're the best something, Xanthee. But you'll come to learn that once you're on one. For instance, Whirlwind's long believed itself the best at…well. Everything. Though it really is a great place to be all around…" He unfolds his arms and sticks a hand into his pouch. "We do need to be a little more well-rounded in our color spread, though. A few good greens would help with that. Like Liowyth." When he pulls his hand back out, there's a knot in his fingers - slightly less intricate than the one she currently wears, but bearing no marks of weyrlinghood. A true wingrider's knot. "We're thinking' you're ready. What do you think? Up for the challenge?" he asks with a glint in blue eyes, holding out the braided cord to her upon an open palm.

Liowyth is minding both her rider and the bronze now and staying still long enough for Xanthee to quickly finish her up. With a loving smack to her shoulder to indicate she's done, Xan puts her brush aside and reaches for a rag hanging off the edge of the bucket of oil. She's listening to G'tan though as she goes about the motions of wiping off her hands on it, shaking her head with a giggle as he reveals this mysterious prettiest wing. "Ahhh…Whirlwind, right… I should have known that," she replies with a touch of sarcasm before she crouches down to start gathering her tools. But then he's talking about greens needed and she turns her head to look up at him as if she doesn't quite believe what she's hearing. But then he's got that knot in his hand and she's just blinking at it as she slowly gets back to her feet. "Wow! Ummm…YES! Yes…I definitely think I'm up for that challenge!" Xan exclaims before reaching out to take up that full wingrider's knot with a bit of reverence, even though she feels like she might explode from excitement at this moment.

"You'll get why eventually," G'tan assures Xanthee with a wink as he hands over the wingrider's knot. "There's been some contention over you. Sorry it took so long," he informs her. "Drills are first thing in the morning. PT at dawn, and we'll get you worked into the formations right afterward." There's a glance up at Liowyth, then back to Xanthee as a brow quirks upward. "It'll be tough, but I know you'll both be able to handle it. Just keep breathing and don't expect to nail it right off. Sound good, wingrider?"

Xanthee clutches the knot in her hands now looking down at it briefly before lifting over bright eyes in G'tan's direction. His apology is met with a soft chuckle, "Hey, not at all. I knew I had to get picked eventually. I haven't really thought about it…" She tries to prove her nonchalance with a lazy wave of her fingers. The schedule is nodded along with as she files away each point with a bob of understanding. "PT at dawn is my favorite," this is said with complete sincerity as her hands go to her old knot, already starting to work it free even as G'tan continues speaking. His last gets a wry smirk from the greenrider and a little tilt of her head, before nodding firmly in the affirmative, "Got it, give it time before I let my perfectionist tendencies loose." She teases lightly but when he calls her wingrider, there's a solemnity that seems to settle over her as she realizes she's actually done it. Realized her dream.

G'tan smirks knowingly at Xanthee's first, not really believing her but understanding well enough where her words are coming from. His expression widens to a grin at her last, something that stays in place as she gains a slight air of solemnity. "Just so," he answers good-naturedly, hooking his thumbs beneath the strap of his satchel. "Alright, wingmate. See ya in the morning." He ticks two fingers off his brow in a sort of nonchalant salute as he backpedals a bit. "Clear skies 'til then. And take some time to celebrate!" With that, he turns to meet Zinakoth as the bronze prowls from the water back along his previous path, crooning his congratulations to Liowyth before he shakes himself off and lets his lifemate mount for the short flight home.

"Okay wingmate, see you then, bright and early," Xanthee retorts with a wide smile as she finally sheds the old knot, stuffing it into her pants pocket as a souvernir. "And don't worry, I'm definitely planning on celebrating tonight," she calls after him with a wave before her nimble fingers put the Whirlwind knot in it's rightful place on her shoulder. Liowyth calls her own farewell to the bronzeriding pair, her own excitement seemingly bubbling just barely contained under the surface. Swinging her head back so that she can inspect her rider, she snorts her approval, « We will do well in Whirlwind. I know it. » Xan reaches out to pat her green's nose lovingly before agreeing with her wholeheartedly. « C'mon! We gotta go tell Mal! » the green exclaims, possibly picking up on some projected feelings from her rider, but Xan doesn't correct her. Because that is exactly who she is going to seek out some celebrating with. She'll just be careful not to overdo it of course, don't want to make a bad impression on their first day in their new wing.

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