When formation is over and briefings are done for the morning, most riders would disperse faster than a bunch of roaches when the light is turned on but within days of a fall, people are too tired to flee. People still linger and talk with one another, some slowly drifting off when the formation is released. Except K'mine. He glances over his shoulder to peer at Vedziyath, his eyes slowly becoming more and more narrowed the longer he stares at her glowing hide. Her behavior, so far, is nothing out of the norm for people watching from the outside but from the inside, it's been a constant onslaught of sensory overload. The greenrider lowers his face into his hands, rubbing his eyes vigorously, then reluctantly turns to find his Wingleader before he vanishes for the next iteration of responsibility. It's obvious she's glowing, but wing duty isn't run on assumptions.

T'ral is listening to B'taar's report, nodding. The Wingsecond wraps up and promises a report soonest, drawing up to salute. T'ral gives a punctuating nod and a return salute, pivoting to survey the lingering gaggle of Arroyo as the Wingsecond heads off to separate duties. Esanth, sitting nearby, tail curled neatly around his seated feet, wings cattywampus, is a good windbreak. T'ral sidles into that bubble of warmth and, still watching the gaggle, reaches into his breast pocket. He pulls out a yellow ribbon then lifts his head to blow a sharp patterned whistle into the air. From a cluster of firelizards, a little blue perks and wings to him. T'ral looks up from affixing the little yellow ribbon to see K'mine approaching. Hands fall from the task and he straightens, brows faintly furrowed, a look of concern at K'mine's bearing.

It's even harder to go through the motion when someone is staring at him, but K'mine is committed to getting this done and over with so he just runs the palms of his hands down his leathers to dislodge whatever sweat is there before pausing and rendering his salute. "Good morning, Sir. Do you have a moment?" He doesn't sound too thrilled, but who would? He definitely doesn't look too thrilled, either. Vedziyath decides now's a good time to just sprawl out and relax in the cool winter breeze. At least she's not abandoning him, not while she's taking pleasure at her rider announcing her current state. All by cranking up the brightness and intensity of the colors around them. K'mine winces and breathes in deep, sending a venomous stare in her direction before returning his attention back to T'ral. VED, STOP IT.

It doesn't take an empath to detect K'mine's unease. Nor, as he follows the daggers of K'mine's glare to the sprawling Vedziath on glorious display, a genius to detect its source. Esanth has noticed, as have other males whose riders linger. Perhaps part of why some linger? Esanth's starscape Void shifts to colorful nebulae. While T'ral is a direct-eye-contact sort of guy, he returns the salute and settles back to affixing the little ribbon onto his firelizard's leg, sparing K'mine the need of looking him in the face. "Of course," he waves K'mine into the relative warmth of the heat radiating from Esanth.

K'mine drops his salute and does his best not to deflate too much in T'ral's presence. No one needs to be inflating a deflated greenrider. Especially out in broad daylight in the bowl when there's more important things to do, like PAPERWORK. « Those are sweet lies, and you know it, Beloved. » K'mine clenches his jaw but doesn't return a response to her, just letting his clear discomfort and irritation radiate in her direction. The green laughs low and deep, gently turning down the visual noise for her poor, poor rider. The cranked up scent of rose and myrtle? Oh, she'll just RAISE THAT UP INSTEAD. He'll survive. At the very least, T'ral offers a little bit of mercy but glancing at the work his fingertips find themselves in. Esanth's warmth is definitely much appreciated! The greenrider clears his throat and opens his mouth to speak but all he can manage is a pathetic noise before shaking his head and trying again. "Sir, I need guidance on… what to do about her condition. This is my first time dealing with this so I don't have her predictability on my side yet. I'm mainly concerned about duties."

T'ral's most important task, now that his wingriders are accounted for and dispatched to their leisure or treatment, is getting this ribbon tied to Alarph's leg. The little blue is dancing a bit with some eagerness to be off. "Sit still." Fond, the recrimination, it's his own eagerness the blue is buzzy with. THERE. He manages to get the ribbon tied and scoops the flit into cupped hands and slings him aloft. ::Pop!:: he vanishes between. "Guidance." T'ral takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulders. "I'm afraid there's not much to do other than wait." He looks with some sympathy on K'mine at the green's languor on bright display. "She giving you a hard time?" Brows lift, his forehead furrows. Given the greenrider's demeanor, that's mostly rhetorical. "I'll trust you to be a judge of if she," he pauses, dipping his chin for emphasis as he looks at K'mine from under his brow, "And you are up to your responsibilties while she's in estrus." He looks from Esanth to Vedziyath, gauging the blue's attentions. "It's best to be careful while you're both learning."

Just as the last words fall free from T'ral's mouth, Vedziyath quickly rises, wings unfurled with a snap! She rears back on muscular haunches and launches herself into the air, quickly darting off without so much as a look back! K'mine whips around and if anyone was watching the poor man, they'd see the very life get sucked out of him and his color so pale he'd be making snow jealous. « Relax, beloved. The lake is empty and a fine place for a nap. » "Nap. Lake. Right." DON'T EVER LEAVE LIKE THAT AGAIN. « I had to get just the right spot so sand is in all the right places. You should find someone and do the same~ » K'mine turns back to T'ral, eyes twitching in irritation at his lifemate. He offers a short nod at the very least, swallowing hard before he clears his throat and adds, "Y-yes, Sir. I think we can manage for a little longer." He hopes.

It's probably not any help that Esanth's chest inflates, wings lifting as he tracks with interest Vedziyath's path up. Great talons flex, he's poised, and then… with a rumble, the blue relaxes, as do many of the male dragons in the thinning group. A thread of tension goes from T'ral's bearing, too. The Wingleader has removed himself and Esanth enough that those treading the paths to the caverns and elsewhere aren't in hailing distance. He puts a hand out to steady K'mine — despite that K'mine just said he doesn't like to be touched. T'ral doesn't like his wingriders pitching over in the dirt. All good. No pitching. As the riders of Arroyo head for warmer pastures, T'ral offers a confident, "Let us know if that changes." No shame. He takes a deep breath in synch with Esanth, the exhale pluming away. With a ::pop:: the little blue returns and T'ral lifts a hand absently for it to roost as he looks at the ribbon, pale yellow against dark charcoal leather, there are two knots in the length. He nods and flips his collar up, the blue riding the lifted hand before hopping to settle at his shoulder, a choreographed dance, this, tail here, collar there, head under wrist, loop of scarf pulled free and tossed over the huddling firelizard, to trail down his back. "What would you say you're most anxious about?"

If it weren't for T'ral's hand on his shoulder, he might've well dropped at his lifemates cruel display of effection. Too startled to mind the contact. "I-I will, Sir." If she gives him the chance. K'mine glances over his shoulder one more time in his lifemates general departing direction and he glances back over to T'ral when he hears the question. "When it actually happens. I know what happens after. I've made peace with that, but… the before and during is the part I'm worried about. I know it's unavoidable and I just have to go along with it but I don't like not knowing what's going to happen." Nothing that can be helped too much, really. He was there when Navikoth was up in the air. He seen her being chased by the others but he was an outsider. He didn't feel or experience what Riza did.

"'Before' being now?" T'ral clarifies, "And 'during' being the flight itself?" T'ral's brows lift, has he gotten the right of it? "It's difficult to understand or even explain." Particularly given that every rider's experience of their lifemate's … mating is as different as the bonds are different. T'ral nods along with K'mine's discomfort. "Anticipation does have a way of amplifying things." He lifts a hand to scratch at Alarph's jaw. "That ribbon? It's a signal to Catryn that we made it back safely. So she doesn't have to wait for me not knowing." A wingleader and dragonhealer can't scurry off to wallow in familiarity and home and safety. "The waiting is the hardest part." </3 "Where are you going from here?"

Before being now and during being the flight itself, T'ral has the gist of it so the greenrider just nods to that. He listens intently, deflating only a little at his words. It's true, no one else could claim to fully experience Vedziyath any more than any other dragon and vise versa. The ribbon? That's a good way of giving someone a piece of mind. Something tangible, something they could actually touch and feel without a doubt that there's something there. Right now, all K'mine has is gaudy oversaturated imagery and a mindscent so strong, you'd think someone was running around with an over abundance of perfume, only K'mine would be the only one choking on it. "I understand what you're saying, Sir. Well, since she's taking a nap, I suppose I better get to the infirmary. I've been having horrible migraines so they've been giving me something for that. I'm out, so I need to get re-checked. Safer to administer smaller doses and keep going back than chancing me taking too much." Gotta stay on top of the pain and all that, otherwise you have to build the medicine up in your system and no one likes those ups and downs, either. "After that, hide in the darkest place I can find until I have to report in again."

"I'm sorry I can't tell you anything more … comforting." T'ral's brow furrows, he gestures forward, a path towards the infirmary, he's headed that way. The bluerider's eyes tighten at the news of K'mine's Vedziyath induced migraines. That the greenrider suffers from them is not news, that he is potentially suffering one now is. "We've only got a light 'Fall ahead, day after next. And then a couple weeks break. Unless you think the time off would make your, ah-" T'ral purses his lips, "-anticipation harder to handle, consider a pass granted." He tips up a finger, reminding himself of something, and steering the miserable greenrider to other, happier, things, "Good work on the helmets. I understand you contributed to the design?" Boots grate in the stone. Esanth heaves up to his feet, ash flaking from his hide. » I'll take care of you soon, pal. « Esanth rumbles, « No worries, he needs ya more just now. » The blue paces alongside the two men, moving windbreak.

"Pass?" K'mine looks over at T'ral a little confused for a moment, then it clicks and he closes his eyes nodding his head. "Y-yes, sir. I don't want to be gone too long but I don't want to make a mistake in the air because I can't concentrate. I hope this isn't an every time thing." Poor K'mine, cause it's gonna be. "I'll keep you posted, if it gets any better. Right now I can taste my pulse." Cause that's a tasty thing, too. More of the day's light is beginning to make it's way into his face so he slowly circles to put his back to it, hand held up to his temple to take care of the peripheral. "It was mostly Doji, Sir. I did help with the design a little bit but she had more of a hand in it. I helped with some of the text tile designs, she researched the functionality and historical records."

T'ral coughs a surprised laugh at K'mine's evocative description of the pain. …taste! …pulse!? He clears his throat, a look of contrition flickering, "That's quite descriptive." There's not much for the sun-facing path to the infirmary. "Here," T'ral makes a gesture at K'mine's scarf, "Wrap that around your head. I'll walk you in." There's enough of command in the suggestion that K'mine can hang any wounded pride he has about accepting help on following orders. The chain is handy that way. After K'mine downplays his contributions to the new helmet design, T'ral'll even be quiet, letting the greenrider suffer in peace until he delivers him to the healers and darkness.