Who

Z'bor, Ozriath, Syrianna

What

Ozriath is a' snuffle-whufflin Z'bor into trouble (not really)

When

-- On Pern --
It is 8:09 AM where you are.
It is midmorning of the sixteenth day of the third month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the sixteenth day of Spring and 62 degrees. It is bright and sunny. The only evidence of the overnight storm is in the lingering mud puddles.
In Southern:
It is the sixteenth day of Autumn and 68 degrees.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the sixteenth day of Autumn and 17 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Where

Southern Weyr Beach

OOC Date 12 Jun 2018 06:00

 

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"Uhm…what?"


beach.jpg

Beach

An eerie mirror, the glass-quiet Sea of Azov: the clear waters stretch along the dark-pebbled shores, and along this narrow beach. Here the faintest lap of waves belies the calm beyond; here the rocks have been ground down into finest, softest sand - those observant would mark upon the similarity between it and the sands of the hatching grounds. The soft sand soaks up summer sunlight as a sponge; painfully hot during the warmer months, it is only truly pleasant at wintertime. Rocks rise to east and west, lichen-limned and green against the abyssal darkness of stone.

It is the sixteenth day of Autumn and 68 degrees.



Syrianna finds herself on the beach at the moment. She is in a wearing a light blue bikini top and matching bottoms, though she does have a lightweight flimsy robe over it. She has a wide brimmed hat on her head. The pale girl seems to be throwing a ball for a large white canine. The canine comes up drops the ball at her feet. Syrianna throws it as hard as she can down the beach. The Canine takes off after it and brings it back, the whole process then repeats. The girl giggles a bit, and after a few minutes pulls out a couple meatrolls, munching on one herself before giving one to the canine as a treat.
Ozriath simply must have more shells for her ledge, no ifs ands or buts about it. Whether Z'bor is awake yet or not, rest day or not. Z'bor would rather be getting klah, but his patchwork green is insistant! And the shells must be perfect. Said green is rooting around in the shallows and sands now, picking out shells in delicate shades of white, pink and purple.

«Z'bor look at this one!»

She's found a good sized conche shell with a vibrant near fuschia inteiror. Z'bor picks up the shell and inspects it for any residents. None seemingly, so he tucks it into the rucksack slung over his shoulder. Ozriath's sylven head turns to get the lay of the beach, and her whirling blue gaze falls on Syrianna and her canine.
«What's this then?»

Z'bor's mind is filled with the cirious popping of rainbow bubbles. Looking up, he too spots Syrianna.

Syrianna ruffles Shimmer's fur and then grabs the ball, playing with the canine a little before she throws it again, this time out into the surf, though making sure where she is throwing it, isn't at anyone. She gets it out a ways, though not too far. The large white canine takes off after the ball, having no hesitation to leap into the surf after it. Of course this time once the canine has swum back and left the water, running to drop the ball at Syrianna's feet, it proceeds to shake itself dry, soaking Syrianna in the process. "Shimmer!!" the girl stammers and then just giggles a bit.

If dragons could laugh, Ozriath would be. As is, rainbow flurries rush through Z'bor's mind, millions of bubbles popping with the feint hint of childlike laughter erupting from them. Bricks of yellow begin laying a path towards the girl and Ozriath moves physically with them. She ambles up to girl and canine, snuffle-whuffling at them both upon arrival with a curious rumble. She's not out to frighten anyone but there's something /shiny/ about this one. "Please excuse Ozriath….she's over-friendly at times." The sylven cheeked green seems to rumble in protest.

«There is no such thing Z'bor.»

Syrianna looks up from where she is starting to ruffle Shimmer's fur again and cocks her head to the side, "Oh its okay, I am getting used to some of them being curious." she says and giggles a bit. The large canine doesn't seem to have a problem, though he does move back a little and lowers his head a bit, tail wagging. "Shimmer, she probably doesn't want to play." she says and shakes her head before throwing the ball for the canine again to distract him, though just down the beach this time. The canine watches the back and then looks back to the dragon as if to make sure it was being thrown for him, before he takes off after it. The girl turns back and then gives a bit of a bow, "Good Day, rider, Ozriath," she says, knowing the dragon's name since he just said it.

Z'bor gives a light bow in greeting. "Z'bor, pleased to meet you…." Wait, had she spoken her own name? Ozriath bunches, as if to take off after the canine and ball, but no…Syrianna is more interesting. The green gives the girl a nudge, snuffling at her clothes, whuffling at her hair, turning one big whirling blue eye on her as if to inspect her thoroughly. With a rumbling croon the patchwork green gives the girl a nudge, as if to give her own greeting, or urge her to introduce herself.

Syrianna blushes just a bit as she realizes what the pause meant, "Oh, um sorry." she stutters just a bit. See dragon..get distracted. She shakes her head, "I am Syrianna, Herder Senior Apprentice." she says and then bites her lip again. Up close, she is quite pale, probably why she is wearing the hat. She giggles a bit as she gets nudged by the dragon, and catches her hat before it can get accidently knocked off. Shimmer brings the ball back but seeing that Syrianna is distracted he just plops down into the sand and starts to chew on it.

Z'bor starts to get the niggling feeling Ozriath's on another mission when Syrianna introduces herself. What is it with Oz and these apprentices? Does she want the craftmasters after Z'bor for secreting away apprentices to the candidate dorms.

Seriously Oz? To Syrianna, Z'bor smiles. "Well met." Herder makes sense.

«I'm always serious.» Not.

"Decent day for the beach, eh?" Ozriath continues her inspection of the girl, perching behind the girl, the green takes a deep snuffle of her hair.

«She smells good.»

Oz!

Syrianna smiles, "Well met to you both as well." she says and then nods her head, "Yeah, definitely, had to get out of the heat a little, much cooler when I can spend my free time like this." she shakes her head, "Starting to adjust to the heat better, but still hot." She blinks as the dragon moves behind her and does that to her hair. It causes a giggle, "Does she like the soap I use?" she asks, after all the dragon has sniffed her a few times.

Z'bor could agree about how to spend free time, that's for sure. He'll be out here surfing later. But for now, Ozriath seems determined to get the full scent of the girl below her. He shrugs. "I have no idea, but she says you smell good." He gives a laugh at this and crosses his arms. Looking the girl over, not in any overt way, but as if trying to figure something out.

«This one. This one needs a thing! A shiny! Give it to her Z'bor!»

Yup. He figured. What //is it with you and apprentices Oz?//

«They're shiny!»

Digging in his pocket, Z'bor retrieves one of the knots they must carry around when there are eggs on the sands. "So, your canine seems adept at fetching things, do you think you could handle much of the same?" He dangles a knot in front of Syrianna. "Ozriath seems to think you can."

Syrianna shrugs a bit, "Must be the soap, we make it with some berries that grow in the snow back home." she shakes her head a bit and then looks at him a bit confused, "Fetch?" she cocks her head to the side and then she sees the knot in his hand, being dangled in front of her. It takes her a moment to realize what it is and what it might mean. "um what?" she is just a bit startled and struck dumb for a moment.

Z'bor chuckles. "Would you like to stand for the clutch on the sands?" He'll be less cryptic this time and just ask outright.

«Yes! SAY YES!»

As if Syrianna can hear here, Oz knows she can't, and so does Z'bor, but the green is cheering anyway. Z'bor gives his lifemate a sidelong glance and near rolls his eyes. Dragons. Odd creatures. He loves her anyway.

Syrianna just blinks a few times as it starts to sink in. She rubs her head a little and then a blush creeps to her cheeks, "You want me to…" she gulps a little and then nods her head really quickly, "Yes, yes." she stammers as if she thinks maybe he will retract the offer if she doesn't answer quickly. Shimmer senses something has changed and looks up at Syrianna before standing and shaking out the sand from his fur. Seeing that she looks alright, he plops back down, naptime.

Z'bor beams and smiles at the girl. "Great! You're furry friend will have to find a temporary home though, candidates aren't allowed to have pets." Handing Syrianna her knot, he beckons to her. "Come along, I'll need to show you where the barracks are, and get you assigned a cot. You can go speak with your superiors after, and find someone to look after your friend there." Ozriath near bursts with pride. Another one down for the sands. Her job is near complete.

Syrianna is still a little stunned and nods her head. She holds onto the knot and nods, "Shimmer, come." she says, the canine picking up the ball and moving to follow Syrianna, "Not a problem, I have someone that can watch him." she says, sounding a bit dazed, but she shakes her head to clear it, "Um, ok.

Z'bor leads Syrianna to the barracks, where indeed he does nab her a cot, and explains the rules and expectancies of candidacy. After that, he'll leave her to settle in and handle her canine.

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