Who

Amani & Zymuraith, Ulrika & Theidith, Ryott & Wrayth

What

Amani and Zymuraith come out to meet the two newest junior queens, and leaves Ulrika and Ryott with a bit of a riddle.

When

It is afternoon of the seventh day of the eighth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Training Grounds, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 26 Mar 2019 04:00

 

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"I know how…stressful these first days can be, especially depending on how they are here."


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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 thirty-seventh day of Winter and 43 degrees. Throughout the night, the cold winter rain continues to fall steadily.


It's been a handful of days since the fortunately tumultuous Hatching that yielded two golds and a whirling barracks full to bursting. Amani (and Zymuraith) have both been itching to come near, but a bit of time must be taken, of course. At the top of the list to speak with are, of course, Ryott and Ulrika, being the new junior golds. And now that enough time has passed, along with the rain (for the moment), the Weyrwoman ventures into the training grounds, clad in her riding leathers against the chill in the air. Zymuraith is settled on her haunches with Amani leaning against her foreleg, her mental presence kept to a warm glow more sensed than mentally seen, the pleasant crackle of a fire and a scent both slightly sweet and spicy carried on the gentlest touch of a cool breeze. This extends in a gentle tendril to the minds of both young queens - a tacit beckoning to come outside.

It has been a chaotic time, though most have started to settle into some kind of rhythm - however short-lived though it may be. And while Ulrika and Theidith are already planning on venturing out for some much-needed fresh air, it's the summons from Zymuraith that both secures their plans and alters them slightly. It's the small gold that emerges first, followed by her weyrling rider; Theidith's mental touch is cool and green, jungle flora curling and twisting to greet that warmth. Sunlight is radiant in that space, a reverent luminosity that highlights where minds meet. "Weyrwoman," the blonde greets with a salute, of course. The weyrling uniform fits well on her but, then, she's had turns of experience of wearing something similar.

A spark reaches out tentatively to that gentle tendril, crackling forward then shuffling back before flaring suspiciously at a distance. An icy chill replies to that warm glow as the corners of her mind frosts over slightly. But there's a curious puff of air as well, and soon enough, not from the Barracks, but from a dark recess further down the grounds, a golden nose emerges followed by the rest of her rose-masked head and pointed headknobs. Following in her wake, shoulders slumped forward and a deep frown on her brow. Ryott is dressed in the weyrling uniform of green and black, which is strange since the girl is known for her strickly greyscale color pallet choices. The larger gold slinks suspiciously towards her dam, keeping her head low as she takes her time getting over there. Ryott offers a salute and surely she'll say something once they manage to get into proximity.

« Greetings, Theidith, » a low and rather richly silky soprano greets the first of the baby golds to emerge, and Zymuraith lets the foundational image of her white-flamed bonfire warm into view, subtly edged in a yellow that mirrors the sun's warmth. There's more consideration given when Wrayth appears, however. The warmth remains, amplified outwardly by a soft croon as the Senior queen lowers her head. And there are answering sparks to that single suspicious flicker, deep violet and scarlet bursting over the edge of the uniquely-wrought iron cauldron that holds the white fire, skittering playfully over the ground. « Hello, my daughter, » is the greeting for Wrayth as Amani straightens and returns the salutes rendered, smiling gently. "Ulrika, Ryott. I wanted to be sure I got to speak with you both as soon as I could. How are you both doing, and them? I know how…stressful these first days can be, especially depending on how they are here." She taps her temple in demonstration, dark eyes flicking to the young dragons themselves as Zymuraith works to create a safe space for them around her.

All poise and grace, that's Theidith; she dips her head respectfully to Zymuraith, then settles on her haunches in a posture that's more noble than prim. Ulrika stands beside her, a hand resting along one ripple of a neckridge, fingers curling gently there as if loath to break contact with her lifemate for any length of time. « Greetings to you, Queen. » The bonfire is welcomed, the warmth drawing out a veritable jungle of wildlife in the young golds mindscape; a hundred-hundred creatures coming out of the cool depths to pay homage and bask in her light. « I hope that you and yours are well. » A welcoming coil of blooming vines and tendrils is extended to Wrayth, as well, an opening made in that lush forest for her sands-sister. Ulrika, for her part, offers a nod to Amani, her expression stoic as ever. "Thank you, Weyrwoman. I- we," with a tap of fingers to Theidith's neckridge, "we are doing as well as can be expected for now, Ma'am." But, then, there's a crooked grin: "She is growing, though not fast enough for her liking."

Ryott picks up her pace a little bit, but Wrayth still holds back a bit, finally plopping herself stubbornly just out of reach of her dam, and no amount of coaxing will get her to move either. Her mind does open up a little more to Zymuraith's bonfire, her flames forming into whip-like tendrils that dance above the cauldron briefly before being pulled back, « You're too big. » she says bluntly as the dragonet has to crane her head way back to take all of the Senior Queen in. Ryott just does the thing she's been doing most often in the days since the Hatching, putting her palm over her face and just shaking her head. "She's…not what I expected," the younger goldling admits dryly as she bobs her head politely in Amani's direction, "Weyrwoman." With a look back over her shoulder, the girl narrows her eyes briefly at her gold, a look of pure concentration taking over her feature. But alas, Wrayth will not be dislodged from her spot.

« Zymuraith will do. I am a queen, but Yorprith is a queen, as are you, and Wrayth. » There's rumble from the Senior, drawn out enough to resemble a chuckle. « It might get confusing for someone, sometime. » She isn't making an effort to touch Wrayth, per se, patience the order of the day as she settles onto her stomach in an effortlessly regal repose. Yes, she is big, and long…and won't hesitate to use it and her own sneakiness to her advantage. « I am as big as I am meant to be, » she counters her daughter…and suddenly there is the tip of a long, lithe tail flicking Wrayth's and darting away. Just in case anyone was wondering if the stealthiness was, in fact, inherited. « Just as you will be. » For her part, Amani can't help chuckling, folding her arms over her chest and then sighing. "Yes, that all sounds about right. Growing is never fast enough for their liking, but something you'll feel like you can never keep up with. And for Wrayth…" She looks to Ryott, gesturing at the rose-masked gold. "I'd be surprised if any child of Zymuraith's is ever without some part of them that's confusing. She still confuses me at least once a seven. Anyway." Back to the main thrust of why she's here. "I want you both to know that Treista and I are here for you. Yes, you'll be dealing with the same things the others are, especially right now…but Impressing to a gold carries a lot more with it, as I'm sure you're both aware. There are some things they'll never really understand, just as there are some things you won't be able to do. Best to hear what you need to hear from those who live it every day."

Theidith's head tips just a little in acquiescence, « Zymuraith. » The name is collected and placed elsewhere in her mental realm for now, an offering and blessing reserved. « Yet a Queen, still, as Yorprith is my Queen-Mother, and Wrayth my Sister-Queen for our time together on the Sands. » Distinctions are made; clarity offered, but the flow of words trickles and ceases respectfully when Zymuraith's regard shifts to her daughter. Ulrika, too, is silent otherwise, unless addressed. There is a sidelong look to Ryott, just a flicked and quick kind of check on the younger gold weyrling, before her attention shifts back to Amani. "Understood, Ma'am. And it's appreciated, aye. There are those as would try to tell us what to expect and how it'll be be - but, in truth, they can't." That's just- well, matter-of-fact.

As Zymuraith settles down, Wrayth sneakily creeps forward, but only when no one is looking. When that tip of her tail comes out of nowhere though, the young queen startles briefly, freezing in place before quickly acting as if nothing happened. As if to further the ruse, she's going to scratch at her jaw with a hindclaw lazily, revealing a half-healed scrape at the very tip of her chin. Ryott looks back at Wrayth when the Weyrwoman gestures in her direction, considering Amani's words with thoughtfull furrowing of her brows over dark eyes. "Well, that's something to look forward to I guess…" she drawls with dry sarcasm as the older goldrider shares her experience with her lifemate. When Amani goes on though, Ryott crosses her arms over her chest, although she comes off as way more defensive than the Weyrwoman. If she catches Ulrika's sidelong glance, she doesn't show it, and she takes her time in answering Amani's offer. "Makes sense." Concise as always, it doesn't seem like impression has loosened the girl's tongue any. « I don't want to be a Queen. What's the opposite of a Queen? I wanna be that. » Wrayth pipes up with a grumble and the snap of wind against canvas before her mind retreats once more.

« That is all very true, » Zymuraith agrees in the wake of Theidith's reply with a soft rumble. If a dragon could look wry, that's the expression the Senior holds as she observes Wrayth after tagging the little gold with her tail. There's a snort and a narrow-eyed consideration of her daughter as she considers the best way to approach what's been said. Yes, this new gold will be a challenge indeed. « You mean you wish to be less than the best? » is countered with cool slyness…and Amani turns her gaze up to her lifemate momentarily with a brow arched. "Just so," she says after a moment, agreeing with both goldlings. "I think that'll be enough for now, though. Things have to be kept short for a bit still. Before I go, there's one thing I'd like you both to think on. Quietly. Consider it a mindlink exercise, in a way." Dropping her arms, she clasps her hands at her back. "As the ones who Impressed gold, you are not your own. And I don't mean just in the fact that you're with them now," she says, tilting her head to indicate the little ones. "Tell me what I mean the next time we meet. Clear skies to you both." With that, Zymuraith rises, sending a stronger tendril of warmth and playful sparks to curl around the minds of the young golds as she, too, departs. « I will see you both again soon. Be sure to mind yours. »

The smallest of the three golds waits until Zymuraith rises before she does as well, her head ducking respectfully to the Senior. She flexes her wings just a little and settles them neatly to her back. « Of course! Be well, Zymuraith. We look forward to seeing you and yours again. » Sparks are teased and toyed with by flowering tendrils and coils, at least until the other gold's mind is out of reach. Ulrika issues a salute and a nod of her own. "Aye, Weyrwoman. We will. Thank you for your time. Clear skies to you and yours," she offers, though her expression - fortunately - betrays little of her thought. There's nothing coldly inscrutable; merely neutrality, carefully constructed. It's only after Amani and Zymuraith departs that Theidith remarks to Ulrika: « Come, Mine. You have promised fresh air and a walk and a promise is unbreakable. » "Aye, so I did. Let's go, then," and off they go, at least until Theidith is too sluggish to move and must be carried back in some capacity. Limits: they will be learned eventually.

« I… » Wrayth starts to reply, her mindscape blank except for a single spark that glows weakly. « I didn't say that. » She'll protest with puff of air along her mindlink. When Amani calls the visit to an end, there's almost a relieved sag to Ryott's shoulders. That is until they are given essentially homework. So it begins… The girl frowns as the Weyrwoman presents her riddle, making note of her wording and filing it away for consideration later. Following after Ulrika with her own salute, the teen goldling nods her acceptance of the task. "Clear Skies Weyrwoman." she offers her farewells succintly before turning on her heel and heading to join her gold and hopefully coax her back into the barracks before she does fall asleep. Because carrying Wrayth is already difficult for the diminuitive girl.

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