Who | |
What |
A certain gold dragonet decides she wants something that belongs to a certain healer. |
When |
It is the fortieth day of Winter and 43 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the winter rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant. |
Where |
Upper Bowl, Southern Weyr |
OOC Date | 27 Mar 2019 07:00 |
"Ryott watches the whole thing unfold and seems frozen in mortified horror, her blank expression suddenly going slack-jawed, hooded eyes widening to saucer-size in instants."
Upper Bowl
The graceful sweep of spacious bowl lies scoured clean by an easterly breeze. Detritus is whisked neat to the eastern steppe of the bowl that lies several feet lower than the western plateau. White walls contrast the rough granite of the rivercliffs: the giant maw of the Hatching Cavern lies in the thickest part of the western wall, sheltering the training grounds and weyrling barracks lying nor'west. Directly north lies the leadership courtyard, heavily humid and subtly scented by intrigue.
Mid-morning and it's time to explore! Wrayth has slipped her bonded's notice and has taken off, slinking through the shadows the still low sun is casting over the ground. Refreshed from a nap, her belly full, but not heavily, with a snack, the large gold dragonet then makes her way towards the Upper Bowl. For her part, Ryott is jogging after her lifemate with a frown deeply etched in her brows. "Wrayth! C'mon! Don't go too far! I'm not carrying you back to the Barracks if you fall asleep out here!" the goldling threatens, although it may be a practical thing. At three metres long already, the diminuitive teen would have a hard time with it already.
Violine is on a midday walk, for both fresh air and escape from a few of the more obnoxious healer apprentices who are up for a training and have many, Many, MANY inane questions. Luckily, the rest of the afternoon lessons will be handled by two other senior healers and so, at least for the moment, Vio is free to wander. Perhaps subconsciously she finds herself climbing higher, moving from the lower bowl to the upper bowl at a metered pace. She is close to the training grounds, undoubtedly having to do with the bulk of the apprentice questions about the hatching and the double golds and all that nonsense. Because, why. Why would they ask a question having to do with the actual purpose of their visit? Violine snorts with re-churned annoyance, but, she can't help but peer over to see if she can see any of the new weyrlings out with their dragonets. She has never seen a baby dragon, and since firelizard healing hasn't exactly come easily to her, she wonders if viewing a larger specimen might clear things up a bit. Just as she's pausing to take a drink from her canteen and crane her neck a little further, low and behold, an unmistakable golden form moves with purpose not more than a few lengths off. With a start, Violine instinctively moves backwards and upwards a few paces before looking for the corresponding weyrling. When she spots Ryott she's disappointed. Ulrika she knows decidedly better, and Ryott has only been on her table briefly, like a hundred other candidates for physicals. However, the teen is now co-responsible for the next generation of riders, which, seems heavy, so Violine doesn't prolong her show of disappointment, and instead focuses on Wrayth, calling out to the jogging girl with an air of clinical detachment: "Is she a mauler?" This may seem insane to… everyone… who lives at a Weyr but the healer really knows next to nothing about dragons, particularly young dragons, and she's heard horror stories about standing and mortal injuries, so she's just covering her bases.
Wrayth continues her creeping along the edge of the bowl, taking everything in hurriedly as she doesn't stop long enough to appreciate it. There's more, so much more that she has to see. Oh look! Someone new! With a tilt of her pointed head, she turns her subtly mismatched eyes on Violine for a long consideration before she changes trajectories and makes her way towards the healer. Ryott shields her eyes to see where that query had come from, and she spies someone vaguely familiar, squinting her eyes to try and bring her into further focus. "No…" Ryott drawls almost uncertainly as she cuts Wrayth off when she changes her trajectory and comes to stand in front of her with her hadns on her hips, "Are you even listening to me?" she asks grumpily as the gold makes her answer clear by slinking around Ryott and moving to butt Violine in the knees. « Where's her dragon? » she asks curiously, whuffling around the healer girl and totally invading her personal space. "Not everyone has a dragon Wrayth, I told you that," the girl answers with a roll of her eyes in frustration. "Sorry," she offers dryly in Violine's direction, her head tilting to one side as she tries to remember where she had met the woman before.
Violine is tense as the little (relatively speaking) gold continues to move, and rather suddenly, move at her. However, she's not the overly fearful type, so although it appears as if she might be trampled by an incoming dragonet, she stands her ground. Ryott's vaguely uncertain assurances do little to calm the onrush of nerves, but when the weyrling places herself bodily between the healer and Wrayth, there is a slight lessoning of tension. Violine pulls the strap taut on her canteen, smoothing it to her back so she can free both her hands, which she does just in time as a large head jostles into her lower legs and she has to wave her arms for balance. Somewhat disquieted by the contact, and also undeniably curious, the Journeyman crouches down slightly to get a bit more on level with the dragon, leaning so she can observe around Ryott's legs. "You are… well. Look at you." This statement is met with a rather inconclusive tone. She's not oozing adoration, she's not entirely clinical, she's merely… observing, with interest.
As soon as Violine crouches down, Wrayth skitters away a bit, continuing her careful observation and a more safe distance. That canteen on the girl's back is eyed carefully as she comes back around to stand next to Ryott, subtly interjecting her bonded's body between Violine and the little queen. Ryott just rolls her eyes and throws her hand up in exasperation, "Now you're acting all shy? Shards, make up your mind already." But there's a flash of affection in the way Ryott reaches down to scratch the flat part of her head between those pointed headknobs causing Wrayth's lids to droop slightly. Finally spying the girl's knot, Ryott remembers where she'd met her. "Oh right! You did my physical..now I remember," she offers randomly in her even tone. Noting the interest of the older woman in her dragonet, she raises a brow in mild amusement, "Yeah, pretty much. Not been close to many dragons?" she asks, as if brely a sevenday makes the girl and expert.
To be fair, it makes Ryott an expert in comparison to Violine, who nods before straightening up a bit to actually acknowledge the weyrling. "I mean, living here I see them flying about constantly, but, can't say I've been this close to one." She shrugs, stretching her back with a little pop from the extended stay in a crouch. "Rae? Ronah?" She also is having a hard time pressing name to face as she gives the girl a long glance. "I'm sorry," she admits, though she doesn't sound apologetic, "there were… a lot of you." She wipes her hands lightly on her skirts before watching the dragon some more. "I imagine it must be a relief, having some more space in the barracks." It's certainly a relief having less candidates clogging up the Weyr. "Are you, getting along alright?" She's directing this question at Ryott but her eyes are still slighted on Wrayth, somewhat taken by the mannerisms of the youngling. She clearly doesn't actually know what one asks of a newly minted weyrling. Some congratulations are probably more conventional than inquiring about their bond, but Vio has never exactly followed convention, particularly if she's unaware what the conventions actually are.
"Ryott," the dark-haired teen supplies dryly, as her hand slips back to idly caress down Wrayth's neck. The gold's sharp talons gleam as she taps them with mild irritation before she moves off suddenly from her bonded's side. And starts to amble off a little bit, seemingly losing interest in both the women. "What space? Yeah, we're hald the number we were but now there are dragonets added to the mix," the girl replies in her cool deadpan, the tight set of her jaw betraying that there's still too many people around for this one's comfort. Sighing heavily at the woman's next, she narrows her dark eyes in the Healer's direction, "We're just fine," it's a generic answer made out of necessity since that is probably the single most asked question the girl has had to deal with, and the constant intrusion into her inner thoughts is starting to make her bristle. Her thoughts darken and Wrayth takes that moment of distraction as her cue to change her trajectory and slip soundlessly back behind the healer. That canteen is her target and she goes to grab it in her teeth, pull it off Violine and then make a break for it, but the young queen has not yet learned the power….of the strap, so there may be some dragging happening if Violine doesn't move quickly.
Violine doesn't move quickly. She's pulled forward a few feet with arms flailing until she finally goes ass-over-tea-kettle and lands, unceremoniously, on her rump, one canteen short. Abrupt would be the word used to describe the experience, and she sits, blinking, as the dragonet is currently scrabbling off with her strap-snapped water. "Ryott," she repeats at length, still on the ground, still watching the frayed fabric trail fluttering to either side of the triumphant Wrayth. "Got your hands full, I see." One eyebrow arches as she glances up to the taciturn weyrling, though she makes no move to stand.
It may not have been as smooth as she wanted, not expecting the object of her desire to be attached to the person carrying it, Wrayth is persistant and it seems to pay off when the canteen is finally freed, and she goes bounding off to the entrance to the Hatching Caverns and lurks there with her pize. Ryott watches the whole thing unfold and seems frozen in mortified horror, her blank expression suddenly going slack-jawed, hooded eyes widening to saucer-size in instants. Once the scuffle is ended and her lifemate bounds off, the girl seems to come back to herself and growls under her breath, muttering very unflattering things about WRayth as she reaches down and offers the taller woman a hand up. "You're not the first one to observe as much," she grumbles sarcastically.
Violine takes the hand, straightening and dusting herself off. "I appreciate the lack of decorum." It's not a dig, she has been schooled that dragons are regal creatures above reproach, so it's nice to interact with one and see that they are… not that. "She must have quite the collection." Violine had no attachment to the canteen so she doesn't mind the pilfering. She is, however, interested in the progress of the little queen; her bounding, her swiftness. "How odd, to see one confined to the ground." She's honestly surprised at the relative grace of movement without working wings. She files the information away for future dragon healing exams.
Ryott snickers softly when Violine doesn't seem to mind too much about being pilphered from. And she's just about to answer the woman really, she she spies her gold heading for the stairs to the Hatching galleries. "Oh Faranth's tits, can't she stand still for a moment!" With a distracted wave at Violine as she needs to leave, she lopes off towards wrangling Wrayth…if she can.