Who

Th'bek, K'mine, Doji, Vedziyath, Raktraeth

What

Th'bek eats a sandwich and quickly checks in on two of the new weyrlings.

When

It is evening lunchtime of the tenth day of the fifth month of the eleventh turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Weyrling Training Grounds

OOC Date 05 Jul 2017 05:00

 

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Weyrling Training Gronuds

Here, a wide and spacious field, devoid of all but more of the glare of ubiquitous, fine white sand of Igen: not even a blade of grass dares lift its head against centuries of clumsy draconic antics. To one side, ever-present firestone bins are set, kept supplied by many a hand, while agenothree tanks line the curving angle just outside the barracks, primed and ready for use. Very often, a glimpse of classes in session or dragonets at play may be caught under the open sky under the watchful eye of diligent Weyrlingmasters and older dragons.

It is the fortieth day of Spring and 84 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


It's heavenly outside, sunny, but Th'bek has coaxed some shade from Iskanzivoth, a little bit of residual by the trunk of his tail. He was mingling, asking various pairs of their progress, and now is taking a break to eat some cold meat between bread. A young bluerider shyly approaches saying he's hungry too. "Where you from, son?" The boy who can't be over seventeen mentions a cothold well west of here. The AWLM stares. "Didn't they teach you manners there?" He sighs, a pushover, and breaks his sandwich in two. "Can't say we perpetuate starvation here, right?" He tells Vosji's blue as the young pair walk away.

If it's heavenly, then there's basking to be had and a properly fed and thoroughly oiled Vedziyath slinks her way out into the grounds to find a comfortable spot to bask while she digests, her human only a step or two behind her. K'mine glances up from his hands occasionally, working the dry cloth between his fingers to free up a little more of the oil. The tiny green spots Iskanzivoth, pausing to peer up at the larger dragon curiously and she warbles a little greeting while pawing at the sand beneath her feet. The sound draws K'mine's attention and he glances up, seeing the rider in the shade. He jerks with a start, switching hands with the cloth before composing himself and rendering his salute. "Good Afternoon, Assistant Weyrlingmaster." Sir.

There is little more that Raktraeth likes more than a good snooze in the sun. Especially if he can get oiled before the sunning. Or during the sunning. All this time outside hasn't really been kind to Doji. The pale red head has fashioned some sort of makeshift headscarf to try to get at least some cover from the sun. Her cheeks are still pretty red. The little behemoth is going to poke at a couple different spots before deciding on just the right one to plant himself down in, facing Iskanzivoth and giving both him and Vedziyath a bugle of a greeting. Doji' turns to salute towards Th'bek. "Afternoon, sir. and K'mine."

Th'bek doesn't usually have the stomach to eat breakfast, so this being one of the few items of food he's had today, the brownrider devours it like a tornado takes on roof shingles. He has a right proper full mouth when K'mine greets him and he doesn't rush chewing because, well, if he should choke, he doesn't want to do it in front of these people. "Afternoon, rider," hazel eyes making the leap to Doji, "make that plural. I won't play favorites just because you're also a brownrider. What're your names?" He could ask Tavuqth but he would count it as a favor and want to cash it in later.

"I'm K'mine. Green Vedziyath's, Sir." Which green? The little one seriously engaging Th'bek into a staring contest. She won't last, though. "Ved," K'mine mutters, eyes narrowing as they unfocus and the green finally glances back up towards him instead, fluttering her wings. « Oh, come now. You can't have a show without an audience. » We are not having this discussion! The green snorts and turns to make her way towards Raktraeth, finding a close sunning spot and she makes herself comfortable with overlarge wings spread out wide. There's more than enough room, right?

"And I'm Doji, sir. And he's Raktraeth." Doji pats on the brown's neck. He's been more focused on figuring out just the perfect sunning position than watching the weyrlingmaster devour food. Besides, its not like food doesn't disappear at even more alarming speeds in the barracks, from both weyrlings and dragons alike. « Ah, but eating isn't a show. At least not a good one. There are more important things to do. » More important things to do like stretch out and grow. If he thinks about it hard enough, maybe he can will himself into growing more.

Th'bek licks salt from his fingers, deals with still being hungry, and unhooks a canteen at his belt. "You didn't hatch very far from me, saw the whole thing," he confesses before taking a luscious pull from the canteen. "Weaver, right?" He's shuffled through the weyrling biographies, but it's a continuous effort when there are so many. "I'm Th'bek, and I couldn't say no to Vosji." He says nothing about his former wingleading, it isn't of consequence for the conversation. "I ride Tavuqth, he's a brown from Rhiscorath and Shalnth. What did you do before you were a rider?" This of Doji.

« It every well could be a show, it's not the act but how it's played out. » So far, her lifemate isn't amused. K'mine clears his throat and nods, "Yes, Sir. A Weaver." Not anymore. He glances over his shoulder and spots a couple of low stools, quickly taking a few steps to grab them both and he places one near his dragon before the other is quickly offered to Doji. Sitting in the sand in uniform isn't going to do much for the garments longevity. He carefully takes a seat, half facing Th'bek so he can also keep an eye on Vedziyath.

Doji was just going to sit in the sand, but since there's a stool being offered, she can't say no and says thanks instead before taking her seat. "I was a healer, sir." And with her age, clearly an apprentice. The haircut Chelsa gave her definitely doesn't help hide the baby face. As for Raktraeth, he's just going to send back the smell of forest, with hints of rose and myrtle in it as he settles down. Take that as you will, Ved.

Th'bek doesn't mind sitting in the dirt, so long as no dragonet's pooped here recently…. he draws his legs up and loops his arm around his knees. "A weaver and a healer, both good professions now improved upon." </rider bias> He draws his tongue out and it kind of rests, barely seen, in one mouth corner. "Say, who cut your hair?" He's trying not to stare.

Vedziyath trades the rose and myrtle scents for her own rendition of his forest, distorted just enough to look as though it was freshly painted with canopies of dark hunter green with tiny flecks of gold as though daylight is breaking through. Two can play this game. At least they're staying out of trouble… for now. K'mine doesn't remark on his former profession but hearing the words from Th'bek does ease his feelings of leaving it behind after so many turns. "Our hair?" He reaches up, running his fingers through the shortened hair up top and down the back to make sure no one did anything while he was sleeping but so far, so good. He's either too boring or not boring enough to be messed with, apparently.


Doji nods slowly. "And there's always dragonhealing." Although that will still be a long, long, long way off in Doji's future if she decides to do it. Raktraeth brightens the golden sun a little and then adds in sounds to the mindscape they're making, the sounds of running water, wind through the tree limbs, and avians singing. the question about her hair has her bringing a hand to run through the much shorter hair (compared to her previous braid). "Assistant weyrlingmaster Chelsa, sir. A few days ago. But it's just my imagination or it might be growing as quick as he is." A headtilt back towards the brown who seems like he's already doubled in size in the past month.

Th'bek could lead by example, but his own hair is at the shoulder-length mark. It's all he has, people. He veers his torso to one side, squints. "I think she missed a spot. But don't be self-conscious, I hardly noticed. And," not to undermine his equal, "Assistant Weyrlingmaster Chelsa is very adequate. I'd like to think she cuts hair better than me." It's probably dead fact. "So tell me, what's the consensus like as a weyrling? Are we being rough enough?"

Oh, Faranth. This question. K'mine is all too familiar with this question and he schools his features while his mind backpedals with a vengeance. What did he do as an Apprentice?! No gets you a higher intensity level of training all the way across the board along with a 'so you think you know better' lecture. Yes? APPARENTLY NOT IF WEYRLINGS ARE BREAKING RULES. Or something. Vedziyath raises her head and peers over to K'mine and she croons. « You don't have to use yes or no, Mine. » Right. He closes his eyes and clears his throat. "Weyrlinghood so far has most definitely been a welcome challenge, Sir." He glances out of the corner of his green eyes to Doji. SAVE US.

Doji blinks at the mention of a missed spot. "I don't think she thought I was serious when I said she could take it all off." She was dead serious. Just shave it all. Who needs hair? Aside from Th'bek apparently. The question about being rough enough is considered carefully. "It's different from anything I could have imagined. And… you can't be rougher than Thread is." So she shrugs, not going to think too much about that future at the moment, but it's out there. Fact of life, especially since they'll be riders.

Th'bek is going over Vedziyath and Raktraeth to see what traits they've inherited while awaiting the weyrlings' responses. "Hmmm." He releases his knees. "Good answers, even if you may be telling me what I want to hear. It's… thoughtful of you." He takes a last sip from the canteen and affixes it back to his side. "And you don't seem needy at the moment, that's great. Keep it that way!" Because he's off to see a young pair with the green having a clear case of thicktail.

As Th'bek departs, K'mine quickly pushes himself to his feet and offers another salute as he leaves. "Yes, Sir." He stands there in silence for a moment, then begins to move to sit back down, only he misjudges distance, falling onto his back on the sand. He takes a deep breath and sighs, tilting his head to peer at the stool beside him and he glances down to look at the legs… and the trail of sand parted in their wake. He turns his head towards Vedziyath, who cranes her neck over to him, inching forward to drape her little self onto his chest. She was wanting a pillow. "So much for keeping sand out of my clothes."

Doji also offers a salute as Th'bek leaves. At least saluting is something she can do without thinking now. It took her long enough to get the hang of it as a candidate. And it seems like Raktraeth had just got settled, but already his belly is starting to grumble again. « Doji??? » The girl smiles and gets up, patting the dragonet on the neck. "So much for napping. I'll see you later, K'mine." These two are heading back inside. It's food time, again. But babies need a lot of food, so Doji's not complaining.

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