Who

Ja'un, Zetali | Loranduth, Odskovith

What

Ja'un and Zetali discuss a few things, while dragons go into sleep mode.

Contains implied sexual themes.

When

It is late night of the seventh day of the eighth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Training Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 26 Nov 2018 08:00

 

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Weyrling Training Grounds

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.


The broad sweep of the weyrling training grounds are easy to find one's way across even in darkness. Fine white sand throws back even the light of the moons, providing enough of a gentle glow to see by. When that isn't enough, there are also the twinkling lights of dragonet eyes, or in the case of tonight, those more close to adulthood. Hunkered down for all the good it does against his bulk (which is not that much), Odskovith is here in the training yard, his over-long back legs folded beneath him, his naturally thick tail curled around himself. His wings are folded neatly over his back, and he's half-dozing, half-watching as Zetali walks through formations, using her hands to fix dragonrider positions in her mind. Ever since Hatching Day, she's been taking this whole dragonrider thing terribly seriously; responsible and driven, and even able to overcome Odskovith's less polished personality to turn the pair into a formidable team. Maybe that's why she was given a Wingsecond's knot. She's not quite sure what the real reason is. Temporary insanity on part of those bestowing it, maybe. In any case, this is where she is, and working herself to the point of exhaustion is where she's been over the past weeks and months. Probably not much of a surprise, given how driven she is.

It is a terribly serious thing. Not nothing to be blowing raspberries about. Loranduth's determination to make sure that Ja'un is noticed, leading things, and ensuring that others know their worth is exhausting. They cruise back down, and glide in a long slow circle over the weyrling training grounds before big bronze wings flutter wide open and loft the pair into the sand. "I really don't see why you care so much about a pillow. Even if its embroidered with a wagon." A mumbling grumble as Ja'un lifts a leg and slides down Loranduth's flank like the man had been doing it for a decade rather than half a year. Crunch into sand go boots, crunch crunch until the brown is noted and Ja'uns eyebrows lift. "Odskovith? Zetali?"

«Company!» Odskovith's enthusiastic greeting accompanies a deep-throated bellow from the brown dragon for his bronze clutchmate. Of course, it's not really subtle, but nothing about him ever really is. From his first halting steps over the hatching sands to his strangely bouncy, shuffling gait, it seems like he's doomed to suffer the curse of awkwardness… until he's thrown into the air and Thread is in his sights. He goes from the loveable huggable awkward thing he is into a sleek, deadly, laser-focused hunter with every movement. Not so much on the ground, though. Fortunately he's staying in one place, which means he's not trampling Zetali, who looks up with an owlish blink at hearing a familiar voice. "Ja'un? What're you doing here?" The same could be said of her, of course.

Sputter and sparkle, a flash of light and pop is the voice of Loranduth to greet his clutchmate as well. Loranduth has finally seemed to settle into his heft, moving with some measure of grace across the sand towards Odskovith and his rider. Not quite there yet though, his hide still shows the gleam of newly stretched and oiled lengths depicting continued growth. This one is going to end up big. "Loranduth forgot his couch pillow." Ja'un does not mention why the pillow is so important. "And you? Feeling nostalgia for old haunts?" A glance towards the Brown's eye before he manuevers to plop down beside Zetali into the sand.

Where the bronze dragon has fireworks to greet his sib, the brown dragon's mindscape is a riot of bright colours, and fabric of all kind, today leaning towards the soft and comforting; plush velvet, soft satin and silk, the much-loved surface of a favourite childhood stuffed toy. He likes Loranduth, even if Loranduth is a little intimidating to such a carefree personality as Odskovith. He flips a wing in invitation for the bronze to sprawl on the warm sand nearby. Come on down, the weather's fine! Zetali, meanwhile, fixes a weather eye on Loranduth, eyeing the big bronze with some dubiousness. "No kidding," she comments, brow furrowing. "I think he probably outgrew anything he had here about, uh, maybe seven months ago…" Feeling nostalgia? She shakes her head. "No, I was just going through formations again, and I just felt like going someplace open. I'm not really comfortable in my weyr; I haven't had the time to make it really feel like 'home.'" She sighs, plopping down as Ja'un settles beside her, leaning a little in his direction. The harper must be exhausted. "It's still a little unsettling, trying to wind down somewhere so unfamiliar. I guess this place is pretty familiar to me… the crafter quarters were never really home to me, either."

Loranduth doesn't need much goading to settle himself into the sand near Ods, claws spreading and shuffling through the sand to bury them. Then even further down to press his body into the warmth still residing in the sands. "I wasn't in crafter quarters more than two months before all of this started." Ja'un's arm lifts and settles over Zetali's shoulders at the merest hint of a lean. The hand curls over her shoulder and tugs her over a bit more. "I've only been there to sleep really. If I get sleep. I know why you got picked to be Weyrsecond. I'm not so sure why I did."

"I might have been there as long. Two months, but no more. I only kept my things and slept there." Zetali's eyes droop to half-mast, and she leans over sideways to rest her head on the vintner's shoulders. She must be really tired. "It's not even the noise I miss in the barracks. I wanted to strangle you every time you snored, you know." Teasing? Maybe. Probably. She raises a long-fingered hand and flicks it in dismissive gesture. "I bet it sounds crazy, but I miss the camaraderie. We were all in it together. Now… well, we've gone our separate ways. Some of us more separate than others. I guess I'm used to having people around all the time, coming from such a big family… eh. Sleep is overrated, I think. I'm exhausted all the time and I don't remember the last time I actually slept through the night. No, I'm not real sure why I got picked for Wingsecond. I always figured myself and Oddy were average, at best. I'm glad Xan and Liowyth made Wingleader, though. She works as hard as any of us."

"I was scraping to get into what I could get into. Brewing wise. There isn't much room for another senior apprentice Vintner in the area. Candidacy was the only thing that saved me." Ja'un shifts a bit, turning sideways more to allow her head to settle into the pocket of his shoulder. "It couldn't have been just me. There were so many people in the barracks. I miss the foodfight." The young bronze-rider laughs and shakes Zetali with the laugh. "Sure, that night was awful. But after that? There was almost no bickering or hassling. Everyone just pulling through together." The man gets it, doesn't he? "Something worrying you? Keeping you awake? I had a bit of a worry, but I took care of it. Well. Uh. Something like that." Its dark, nobody can see Ja'un blush, can they?

"Mmn." Zetali's observation is largely wordless, somewhere between acknowledgement and agreement. "The food fight was legendary and I don't think any of us are ever going to forget it. Especially the ones who got stuck with most of the cleaning, like yours truly. I don't know what was in that sauce but it would have made a splendid semi-permanent dye." She grins at his quaking laughter. "Nah. Everyone got along after that. I guess it took bringing everyone together like that to teach 'em we're all in it together." Something worrying her? She shrugs one shoulder, no more than a twitch. "Not really. It's just quiet. Well, maybe one or two things. I guess I've been, uh, procrastinating about it." It. "One thing… mostly. I just haven't had time to deal with it." Not wholly untrue. She's been working a lot and generally making a useful proto-dragonrider out of herself in these final months of weyrlinghood. "I barely have time to sleep. I used to think I was pretty good at sleeping anywhere when I needed to catch some shut-eye, but Faranth, that was nothing compared to weyrlinghood."

"Most of us stuck around for it. Ka'ge escaped. Xanthee was doing something else that night and lucked out. Khali sulked most of that very long night." A long heaving sighs settles Ja'un more firmly against Zetali's dragon's flank. Which just pulls Zetali a touch closer. His gaze is lifted upwards into the nightsky and tracing constellations that they've learned names of and have been drilled on their locations at different weyrs and holds. "One thing. It. The thing. Have you never, Zetali?" Thats an indecent question, asked impertinently and Ja'un realizes it. "I hadn't, until recently. Its surprisingly simple…if we're…talking about the same thing."

"I have mixed feelings about that. Part of me hoped he disqualified himself from Standing, and then the rest of me goes 'but the dragonet would have died without him there to Impress.'" Zetali doesn't scowl because that requires too much effort, instead letting Ja'un pull her closer. When he looks up to the constellations, so does she, gaze skimming over the now-familiar waypoints. It took a long time to get used to seeing them from different places. One thing, he talks about, one singular It. She swivels her head a full ninety degrees, squinting at him with what might be some irritation. Then again, he might also feel how she tenses up, like one suddenly anxious. "Depends on what it is." Her voice is admirably nonchalant, even if it's a lie her tension betrays. "What are you talking about?"

The man might blush for her, if he hadn't taken on a teasing tone to respond to her question with. Loranduth shifts and sand kicks up on the other side of the brown, «You are being mean.» Then the rider gets that unfocused look of communication and silent tussling arguement ensues. Ja'un's attention returns quick enough and his nose scrunchs down at Zetali. "We had an entire lesson or two on it. Mating flights. Loranduth is positively fond of Zsaviranth. Swirly eyes and all." Is he still being mean, circumventing the question? Probably. He returns to it and lifts fingertips to push strays from her forehead, then settle palm ever so lightly against her cheek. "Sex, Zetali. Ensuring your first time won't be randomly with a stranger that probably won't remember." His thumb trails and absentmindedly grazes the corner of her mouth, over a lip before sliding down to settle upon the curve of her shoulder instead. "They told us to 'take care of it.' Like it would be easy."

While Ja'un takes a long time to say what Zetali had already known all along, the former harper allows herself a moment to roll her eyes in silence. If Zetali endures any mental chiding for the gesture, she doesn't share. For his part, Odskovith sprawls out comfortably, letting one wing flop across the fine white sand. His overly long tail also flops behind him, leaving a dragonrider-sized divot in its wake. No, the big brown baby is not at all subtle. He does seem to be more asleep than awake, though, and that's probably for the best. It still felt good to roll her eyes, though. He deserves having eyes rolled at him sometimes. "Oh, Faranth. Do you think I'm fresh off the wagon, too? I know what you're talking about; I just had to give you a hard time about it. Just because I haven't done it myself doesn't mean I'm ignorant, y'know." Zetali slugs Ja'un on the shoulder she isn't leaning on. It's mostly joking. Mostly. With all the physical training they've endured, it might actually smart a little if she manages to hit him. "Besides, I could swear you've been mooning after Khali since you showed up at Igen Weyr; rumour has it you two are thick as thieves. I'm not sticking my hand into that wherry trap. Xanthee had someone she was going to introduce me to. I just hadn't got 'round to it just yet, because…" She gestures faintly at the big brown lump on the sand. "Because busy."

Perhaps the young man needed to figure out how to word it. Doessn't he really deserved an eyeroll because of it. OR THE PUNCH! Ja'un goes OOF and smarts, but doesn't push away quite yet. Nope. "Don't say wagon." Is instead what Ja'un starts with first, but its too late. Loranduth's head lifts from where he was dozing himself. Hm? Wagon? No wagon. Ja'un waits it out, with a disciplined mind. "Careful, Zali. No need to get the dragon riled up." He'll slouch again and heft her down with him if they are getting a bit more physical with each other now. "Mooning isn't the right term. We are close, and she is terrible at being close with people. Theres no wherry trap to stick your hand into." Now Ja'un rolls his eyes, but at himself. "I'm not trying to woo you, Zetali…..Intentionally." If she is all squirmed up against him, she can't punch him anymore right? Thats what he does, a fiendish plot unfolds for his arms to wrap around her shoulders and press her into a hug. "You aren't that busy. And you're lovely enough that it should be easy for you."

Oops. Too late. She said wagon. Cue the mental battle for the ages between Ja'un and Loranduth. Some time later she ought to ask why that might be a problem, but the fleeting curiosity is forgotten a moment later. Odskovith blinks sleepily at his brother, but aside from a sleepy, questioning warble, he doesn't bother to wake himself up. Zetali feels reasonably at ease, so he doesn't concern himself. Much nicer to doze on sun-warmed sands. Zetali, meanwhile, is heaved back down with a 'hrk—!' that is only a little bit annoyed. It's too uncomfortable to struggle her way back upright, though, and so she flops against the bronzerider with a huff that's not as annoyed as it probably could be. It's stupidly hot because this is Igen, but the warm sand does feel nice. Maybe Odskovith's sensibilities are rubbing off on her a little. And Ja'un does make a decently comfortable pillow, of sorts, as she stares up at the Pernese stars. "Well, that's good, because it isn't working," the harper protests, even as arms settle around her and all but pin her in place. "I am too that busy. You have the same knot, I see, so you know how busy I am. And I don't… you're so… aurgh…!" Zetali is a really articulate person most of the time, except when she's dealing with Ja'un. Then words are hard. Because it's so much easier to just jam an elbow into his ribs, but she doesn't. She'll be good. For now. "Ugh. Knock it off. I don't need you. Besides, I'm just another conquest for you, aren't I? Your charms might work on Khali, but they won't work for me. I remember the way you were looking at me when we first met." All salt and vinegar, this one, but there must not be as much animosity there as she lets on. Her dragon is too quiescent for her to really be angry. "Think I haven't been looked at before like that?"

No wagon thoughts anymore, and Loranduth topples sideways in a heap to stretch out and get EVEN COZIER in the warm sand. Damnable dragons think the entirety of Pern is theirs. And it might as well be. "I have the same knot, so I know you aren't busy enough to not do one of the things that has been stressed should very definitely happen before Odskovith decides to chase." Weyr seconds must've learned to be a bit more forthright.
"A conquest? My charms?" Ja'un sits up now so that they both are upright, but those of arms of his don't unlatch, they stay put and slink down to about her waist. "You've known me for an entire year now, Zetali. How often have you caught me looking like that at anyone?" Her, and Khali. Well. Like two polarized magnets bumping and doing their very best not to come into contact. "I am sure that plenty of boys and men have been caught off-guard, distracted, and then turned the side of ruby when they got caught."

The brown dragon opens one eye just long enough to note that his brother is sprawling in the warm sand, and that's quite a sprawl. There might be just a flicker of draconic envy at such great girth; he'll never be quite as large as the bronzes, although Odskovith is plenty large enough for a brown. There aren't many larger than he is, save perhaps his sire.
The former harper snorts, folding her arms and maybe considering for a moment how much catharsis it would be to put that pointy elbow right into the middle of the bronzerider's gut. It would be very cathartic. Very much cathartic. But she's going to be good, because she has a relatively new knot, and she'd rather not lose it over trifles.
"A conquest," she retorts, in a tone of exasperated agreement. "Your charms, such as they are, although that might be a little generous. Yes, I've known you for an entire year. No, I haven't actually caught you looking at anyone else like that, but then again, I'm not around you all the time, am I? I'm fairly sure you look at Khali like that, though. And why not? I guess she's pretty, in her own way." The concession is given so grudgingly it's almost a mutter.
She doesn't glare, because there's nothing to see in the dark. She does fold her arms, though, in the classic posture of someone who's annoyed, but not quite annoyed enough to go bothering themselves over it just yet. "Hmph." It's her only retort to his observation that plenty of the menfolk were spurned by her feisty nature. "Maybe." It's not like she can lie about it for the sake of a victory. He's been around her long enough to know that there's not really anyone in her life.
"Ugh. You're annoying, Ja'un." That's not really true, but the former vintner does make for a convenient scapegoat. There's no real animosity in her tone, though. "But I guess the annoyance that I know is better than the one I don't, huh?"
Zetali gives a long, drawn-out, exasperated sigh that seems as theatrical as it is genuine. "Fine. I guess you win, Ja'un. Because if I don't get this over with, than you're the one who's going to be upbraiding me about my responsibilities to my dragon, my wing, and my fellow riders, huh?"

Loranduth doesn't get to stay asleep, not with the riling ongoing in Ja'un's mind with Zetali dressing him down about anything and everything. He'll lift his head upwards and glance over towards Odskovith, as if they even need nonverbal communication with telepathy. For his part, Ja'un lets Zetali slip free, to sit across from him and accost him with her words.
The young man seems frustrated, almost aggravated by the things she is saying to him, but something shifts in his attitude and his eyes come alight and a broad smile spreads his face as she continues to jabber. The moon's light off of white sands is enough to see silhouettes, and white teeth in the dark might be seen too.
"This conversation is not about your responsibilities to anyone but yourself. Well. Maybe to your dragon. You have a bit of leeway, if Odskovith decides to chase, it'll be a green. And most greens have female riders. I am really not aware of the differences in…activities. But it might not be as traumatic? Dramatic?" Ignorance there. "Loranduth seemed rather willing to ignore greens and golds, so I thought I was going to have plenty of time. I ended up mistaken."
"I am not that annoying. You like me, at least enough to be annoyed by me." Confusion though and those eyebrows furrow together at her. "I win? What did I end up winning? You deciding to take matters into your own hands and find someone?"

The brown dragon only shakes his head as though to dislodge something, snorting. His mindvoice is slipping away from the soft and comforting, heading towards still-soft but slightly scratchy wool, like a comforting scarf. He's too relaxed for Zetali's dressing-down to really be in earnest. Maybe.
He does manage something of the draconic equivalent of a shrug in Loranduth's direction, as though to say, 'I don't know, either.'
The more Ja'un looks pleased, the more suspicious the former harper. She squints through the darkness; although she can't see him well, she can see the reflected light from eyes and teeth. It's enough to read his expression by.
"I don't—you—what?" Zetali tries to articulate several thoughts at once, but they only wind up running together.
She cools her temper down through sheer effort of will, before it has a chance to upset her still-peacefully-loafing dragon. The brownrider exhales through her nose, long and loud and forced.
"From what I've heard, it doesn't really matter. It's…" She gestured nebulously. "Always… overwhelming?" Is that the right word? Probably. She arches a brow, sharply.. "I guess I've had my head down with work. Loranduth's already done some chasing of his own…?"
"Ughhh." Its a disgusted sound that she folds her arms with; an exasperated huff of breath too sharp to rightly call a sigh. "I guess you're right. Yeah. You win. I do like you. I have from the first. You're easy to talk to… most of the time. And you're pretty transparent. Not like Ka'ge. He gives me the creeps, if we're being honest…"
Is she deciding to find someone? "Yeah."
The way she's staring at him so intently, like a feline stalking some small helpless prey, might gradually become unsettling.

The smile is because he bothers her so, that means something. It fades though, at the mention of Ka'ge. "No, he is not very easy to read. I think a dragonet will cool him, and weyrlinghood eased his edges." A quick headshake dismisses the question of flights. "No chasing, not yet. He just seems to have picked favorites. I think every gold has his eye though. He is aloof with Liowyth and Reiyaseith."
The next bit unsettles him. He wins. But what does he win? "I haven't caught you eyeing me like I eyed you." Of course, the vintner is pretty oblivious. A draconic eyeroll happens, which involves more muzzle lifting and rolling than eyes. Loranduth's firework sputter a <Harumph> at Ja'un specifically.
"Thats what a man wants to hear, that he is easy to talk to." Ja'un's backside shifts across the sand a bit in nervousness, much like a mouse does when unsure if the cat sees him. But Zetali does see him, and she is intent upon him.
"It seems like you have someone picked out. At least. The hard part is over, I can't imagine you having to work hard to convince someone." A slow tilt of his head towards Zetali, why is she staring at him like that. "Uhhh……*what* are you looking at?"

"It's not even that he's not easy to read. He bothers me." Zetali's voice dips, and her expression hardens slightly. "There's just something about him that unsettles me. Like he could turn on you, and that dragon of his… I think Oddy's actually a little afraid of him."
Of course, the brown dragon doesn't look very unsettled by much of anything, right now. He's sprawled in the warm sand and doing his best to doze. Loranduth might occasionally pick up on a muted flurry of bright colours and things involving home comforts, but his presence is muted.
Zetali's isn't.
Come to think of it, she's still staring at Ja'un.
"You're annoying and you're as observant as a chunk of firestone." The former harper folds her arms, still staring flatly. "You're right, though. I did pick someone out. If he'll accept."
She's still staring at him.
Hmmm.

"Oh don't worry, Loranduth and Oddy will defend you fiercely." Ja'un remarks in retort to her voicing of her opinion about Ka'ge. Loranduth has settles again as well, cozy amidst sand and even squirming so as to bury himself a bit deeper if he can manage it.
The vintner's jawline sets and tenses at the urgency and fierceness of that feline watchful gaze upon him. Chin slides over and his lips draw thin. "I do alright most days, thank you so very kindly." The young man was rather pointedly told that his ‘wooing' wasn't working. Why would he think her attention was upon him for that reason.
He doesn't have any reason, but he'll pull his satchel forward from behind his back to settle it into his lap and pull a small pouch. "Hard candy?" The pouch opens up to display bits of crystalized sugar set from heat. Candy.

"Probably. Odskovith doesn't even like being around Vazilskyeth. You wouldn't know they're clutchmates, looking at them," she adds, flicking a hand in illustrative gesture towards the half-dozing brown. "He's almost as big, but even now he still cowers a little."
She sighs, rubbing at her jaw. "I hope they never wind up chasing the same gold or green. To be honest, Vazilskyeth makes me uneasy, too. As much as his rider. I don't think he'd have any qualms about tearing up another dragon in a situation like a mating flight."
Sea-green eyes flick to the rock candy on offer, lifting a brow speculatively. "Why not? But you might as well take it with you. Wake up that bronze beast of yours; we can go up to my weyr. I don't have much more reason to be haunting the training grounds. I haven't even had a chance to show my new weyr to anyone, in all its barren glory."
She eyes him, frowning. "You still haven't figured it out? Idiot," she sighs, without any real animosity. "I'm asking you. I'm not going to go seek out one of Xanthee's strangers, although I really do appreciate her making the offer. Although… if you don't want to, that's another matter."

"Vazilskyeth sounds like a snake's name, to be perfectly honest with you. I'd worry for my partner if he weren't so much more agile than Ka'ge's." Zetali's motion towards her face is repeated immediately by Ja'un, nails digging forth into scrabbly scruff that might be better off shorn clean then left just beyond patchy. The bag gets closed up at her ‘why not', to be taken with them somewhere. "Your weyr? I'll….Yes, the pillow can wait, Loranduth."
The pillow can wait because something startling has been broached here and it halts Ja'un for the time being. Loranduth stirred at the mention of moving on and the quick debate had been ended. The man's leather shoulder slung pack shifts from his lap to his hip again while his teeth worry at his bottom lip.
A cautious but steady hand shifts from his knee to reach out to settle overtop of hers. "That seems bold, even sudden. Are you sure that's…. Or I'm what you want?" Fingers curl under to press into her palm before trying to sweep her hand up into his.

Content to let go the subject of Vazilskyeth and his equally troubled rider, Zetali shakes her head at Ja'un's observation on Loranduth's agility. "He's pretty fast for his size, it's true. Of course, Odskovith is pretty fast for his size, too. I wasn't expecting something so big to be able to move so fast. He's faster than he looks like he should be capable of."
It's true, the bouncy brown is much more agile than appearances would suggest. She had a nightmare of a time trying to convince the dragonhealers that she hadn't overfed him, early on. He always had the appearance of a thick tail and a stout body, roly-poly in the way hatchlings are wont to be, but that 'padding' had never quite worked its way off.
It's definitely not fat, though. The brown dragon is solid muscle – and that's probably why he can move like lightning when sufficiently motivated. Zetali could attest to that the last time it was feeding time for Oddy. Zip-zip, right straight to the feeding pens.
"My weyr. Grab the pillow if you want to; I'm not in any hurry. It's too sharding hot to be in a hurry for anything," she adds, pushing herself to her feet and shrugging off his hand from her knee in the same motion. As she does, she slaps the fine, white sand off her weyrling blacks and yellows. "Ugh, this stupid sand. I don't miss it up on the ledge. Gets in everything."
She turns, eyeing him when he halts in his tracks. She eyes him for a long moment as he stands there chewing at his lip, frowning a little; either not noticing the way he takes up her hand or just letting him, she shrugs, still looking a little like an annoyed feline. That seems to be her usual appearance, voluntarily overworked as she's so often been.
"Like I said. Better the idiot I know than a total stranger. With my luck, I'd wind up being thrown together with someone like that tunnelsnake-in-the-grass. Right? And from everything we've been told, it doesn't really matter, anyway. Partners change. Dragons are fickle. Sometimes they show some preference, but…" She trails off, shrugging. She hasn't yet moved to climb aboard Odskovith; the brown dragon is still sprawled and partly faceplanted onto the warm sand, but the glow of a half-lidded eye suggests he's awake, looking to see if she's ready to fly yet. "Better it's someone I know, right?"

"Its a bit of an adjustment, I think, if you grew up without sight upon dragons. Muscles in different places upon a dragon than a herdbeast or a runnerbeast. Wide, and stocky dragons are stronger and have more stamina, which is different from long beasts." Their conversation zips back and forth between casual topics and the very not casual. "Oddy is sturdy, strong. I like the likes of him. Loranduth doesn't seem to have settled into a final ‘state' yet. He looks like an old tree, a sturdy birch or a long willow. Or something."
Loranduth is long, and his coloration fades and shifts across his body in brighter light like the patina on copper. He is aerodynamic, with wide glider wings that point towards economy of motion and the sails of a swift ship than the unending flap of sea birds. His hand does hold hers, and he doesn't relinquish it so easily. "Dragons are fickle, wings and weyrs change." Those charms of his get put out to display when he steps into her, holding her hand tight and out to the side to keep her from stepping away.
"You are really so very convincing, Zetali. Just looking for some idiot to try out?" His words carry a teasing tone, and his hand casts a shadow as it lifts, then reaches forward to press a palm against her cheek again. Only a rest stop before he tries to shift it back into that hair that he braided once. She makes such a mess of her braid sometimes.

"There weren't too many dragons at Keroon Hold. Even for the few times one might have gone by overhead, the weren't close." Zetali shrugs, her statement a bit bland. "I was interested, as a child, but I never really had the opportunity for close study, so I guess I lost that interest. At least, until I arrived here at Igen Weyr."
"Yeah." She turns, eyeing Odskovith speculatively, even as he pushes himself up with a whuff of breath, scattering the finest grains of sand and stretching his big wings. "He's pretty stocky. Stronger than he looks, even, and he looks pretty strong. He's got a bizarre habit of bouncing right back from bumps and scrapes. It's like things just don't touch him."
"Loranduth, though…" She shifts her attention to the bronze, studying Loranduth's craggy hide. "You're right, though. He does look like a tree, doesn't he? All craggy and rough. I think he's faster than Odskovith, though. Just a little." She's loathe to admit Odskovith's shortcomings, but just because she doesn't like them doesn't mean they aren't there. He's still impressive for a brown, and still growing, just a little.
Two jewel-faceted eyes are now gleaming from the darkness. Odskovith is watching, although the green and blue suggest he's content.
She's about to say something scathing in response to Ja'un's last tease, but her eyes slip out of focus as she discusses something – or maybe holds a low-key argument – with Odskovith. The dragon's wings twitch fastidiously, settling over his back, and the light of the moons picks the faded, almost-white of his wing vanes in detail.
Zetali doesn't stop the hand that wanders into her hair, but she does squint a little when some of that hair falls out of the messy braid she'd thrown together at the last moment. She really doesn't pay it much mind. It's still on the short side, since they'd had to shave everything off, but it looks like she has every intention of letting it grow again. Tempting fate, maybe; or maybe she's just a little bit vain.
A quiet snort. Her hair is a strange blend of coarse and soft; coarse enough to be just a little wavy, but dense enough to lend it softness. It's brown, but in the darkness it looks almost black.
Abruptly he isn't holding much of anything as she ducks out of his grip, sidling back towards her dragon, and swinging herself aboard the big brown. He dips his head down, studying Ja'un with one big glowing, multifaceted eye.
And then he nudges Ja'un with his big blunt nose.
"He says he likes you." Zetali's grinning, atop Odskovith's neckridges; the moonlight picks out her teeth in the darkness. "C'mon. It's late enough. Get some wine if you've got some hidden away anywhere. Just a little."
With that, she thumps Odskovith's neck affectionately, and the big brown's wings fall like stones – thump, once, twice; and with a powerful spring of those overly-long back legs, Odskovith launches towards his ledge.

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