You amble southwestwards to the shores of Fort's lake.
Kourieth wings in from the southwestern sky.
C'daer gently swings down from Kourieth's neck, leaving the warmth of his hide behind.
Kourieth swoops down to landing at the edge of the lake, half in water and half on shore - Daer descends carefully from bare neckridges to the sandy side.
Ilesyn, looking contemplative, is seated upon the sandy lakeshore, her arms clasped about her knees, which have been brought up towards her chest. Nallath's in the water, exploring the growth upon the lake floor -- apparently. "Good afternoon," greets weyrling, noting C'daer.
"Ilesyn," says C'daer, sounding almost delighted and quite informal. "Hallo." Kourie splashes into the water, pausing near Nallath to peer at what's so interesting, and his rider settles down a few feet from Nallath's own.
Andariel is sitting perched on the long deck of the steam room and has her nose buried in a hide, so much so that she hardly notices anyone else on the shoreline, although voices do disturb her slightly and she looks up, and offers each a smile and a nod.
Nallath, diving deep, nudges his nose towards a long piece of wood nestled in the sandy bottom of the lake. Fascinating. His warble, once he has resurfaced, is softly mellifluous. Ilesyn's greeting extends to Andariel, as she lets her knees slide downwards towards the sand.
T'nar ambles in from the southwest bowl.
C'daer calls, peering over his shoulder, "Good day to you, too, Weyrwoman," and sets about unlacing his boots. "So, Ilesyn!" He's chipper; usually a bad sign. "I've been wanting to get a chance to talk to you, about whether your opinions have changed since before you impressed."
Nallath, and Baedanth sense Kourieth quivers excitement - mentally and physically, rippling the lake water. << What have you found, then, Nallath? >>
Andariel dips her head back behind her hide to cover a giggle at C'daer's question, pulling it back up just long enough to call a greeting of "Good day Ilesyn, Nallath, C'daer." before she raises it once more to concel a giggle and wait for Ilesyn's answer.
"Why am I not surprised," is Ilesyn's response, a beat after C'daer's question. "You, along with everyone else in the weyr, I seem to think." Her expression turns darker, especially at Andariel's giggle. "And the answer? Well. I don't know."
You sense that Kourieth, and Baedanth sense Nallath's mind, like the richest of clarets, is deep and thoughtful. << There is a very finely shaped piece of wood. Fascinating, the way it curves just so. >>
T'nar and Baedanth stride over towards the little group, the young brown's hide gleaming from a fresh oiling. "Hello weyrwoman, Weyrlingmaster, Ilesyn."
Daer pauses as he wrestles the boot off his left foot - difficult, since he hasn't bothered to unlace it all the way. "So. You're saying that you don't know? I was under the impression," he says lightly, "that you knew everything? T'nar, good day."
Nallath, and Baedanth sense Kourieth dunks his head under the water. << If you say so, >> he says, managing to convey doubt while still sounding extraordinarily cheerful.
Andariel tears a hand away from her firmly held hide/shield and waves briefly to T'nar, her amusement at C'daers questioning still very evident in her now exposed grin. "He's only teasing you Ilesyn. I think."
Nallath, and Kourieth sense Baedanth projects << What will be done with it? Mine's wooden carving is quite nice - it was crafted by Xinth's rider. But the pelt T'nar keeps by his cot is magnificent! >>
Ilesyn's gaze shifts back to Nallath - just briefly - before she comments lightly, "It's Ilesyn-baiting day, isn't it? So I expected, Andariel. I never claimed to know everything. What I mean," she continues, smoothly, "Is that there are conflicting ideas to my thoughts, now."
You sense that Baedanth, and Kourieth sense Nallath projects an image of the stick - it is, indeed, nicely shaped - adding, << It is just a beautiful thing, created by nature. Nothing should be done with it - it is for looking at, and examining. >>
C'daer tosses both his boots away from him, and strips off his socks. Wiggling his hairy, sweaty toes in the sand, he emits a happy sigh. "Not really. Just a habit. And I -am- curious. I expect you understand a little better now, at least?" He watches Baedanth's progress with an expert eye.
T'nar takes notice of the verbal frisking Ilesyn is receiving, and one corner of his mouth crooks into a smart grin. He nods courteously at everyone, but doesn't say much, for now. Baedanth croons as his rider rubs a lst bit of oil on his hands into the brown's eyeridges.
Andariel nods. "I suppose most people would be curious about how you've changed now though, even those that aren't teasing." but there she drops that point and smiles over to T'nar and the brown. "Good day T'nar. How's Baedanth?"
T'nar adjusts his lips so that the half-grin becomes a smaller smile. "He's very good, weyrwoman - just a small bit of a strain during his first flying practice - but he's almost over it, now." A snort from the brown is his only answer. "How are you and Llianth?"
"Yes," agrees Ilesyn, somewhat shortly. "At the same time, however, though I can understand why one might want a lifemate, I don't believe that the wanting should outweigh all the things that being a rider entails. It is still heroic stupidity." Her nod towards Andariel is somewhat rueful, "So I've discovered. People seem inclined to mock me for it."
C'daer digs his feet further into the cool sand, leaning down to heap sand up over them. "Well, you can't blame them," he points out. "You've become precisely what you've been deriding for Turns. And you're stuck with being heroically stupid, now." He adds, "Yes, how are you, Andariel? And yourself, T'nar?"
Kaela walks in from the bowl and pauses, not wanting to intrude, nor get too close to the dragons, but wanting to walk along the lake. A wave, as she moves a little closer, before starting to skirt a path.
"I don't think they really intend to mock you Ilesyn, not really, it just comes out that way." Andariel offers her opinion on things quickly and then turns to the others, "Me? I'm fine. Whatever it was I had seems to have passed, wasn't pleasant but the healers managed to get rid of it." She raises a hand in greeting to Kaela and then goes back to her tale of recovery from a stomach bug, "I'm out of confinement at least, which is always a good thing."
Nallath, and Baedanth sense Kourieth examines, and wonders. << You will just leave it there? >>
Ilesyn pushes her hair out of the way of her face, sandy fingers leaving debris behind in the thick, bouffy hair. "Not intentionally," she points out, quickly - though not without a fond glance towards Nallath, half hidden behind a conveniently lifted hand. "I'm glad to hear it isn't intentional, Andariel. One less person I have to glare at."
T'nar seems to give Andariel the once-over, as if a cursory visual scan will tell him of her improved condition. "That's good to hear." A soft rumble of assent from Baedanth as he settles to the sands - curling head and tail so that he leaves room for others. "I'm well, sir. Perhaps a little tired, but nothing much else."
"Mm-hmm. But it was as intentional as any other," counters the weyrlingmaster thoughtfully. "You could have refused Standing." He peers over at the approaching figure and waves to her, either not recognizing Kaela or simply not greeting aloud.
Andariel glances down at the curled up Baedanth and grins, comment softly "They're getting big now." a random nonsensical comment that hopefully keeps her out of the Ilesyn discussion, opr at least on the edge.
"I wasn't supposed to be a real Candidate," insists Ilesyn. "I was just there to observe. That was important. /This/..." she trails off. Nallath's head has turned, to watch her, and silence evidently seems like a better idea. "Big, yes." She grasps on the subject. "Bigger than some of the greens, now."
T'nar takes a seat next to Bae's head, and leans against his desert-hued neck. "Baedanth is shorter than many of the other browns... but he's taller at the shoulders - and more heavily muscled." A pleased-sounding whuffle from his weyrmate - whose large eyes whirl softly in jewel greens.
C'daer lies back in the sand, gazing upward at the clouds. "Well. I suppose you'll figure it all out in time," he tells Ilesyn. "Though remind me, when it gets cold, that you don't want to be coddled." Rolling his head sideways, he eyes Baedanth. "He'll be a handy size when he's grown, I think."
"Bigger than the greens eh?" Andariel repeats, a safe subject being latched onto by all it would seem. "They're both a good size for... How old are they? 3 months?"
Ilesyn's expression turns sour at mention of coddling, and she turns her attention away. "Four months," she says, quickly, once Andariel has spoken. "/He/ is biggish. Bigger than some of them." /He/. Always he.
"Closer to five, I think," T'nar grins wolfishly, thumping Baedanth's neck with obvious affection. "You mean /Nallath/, right Ilesyn?"
C'daer 'warns', teasing, "Just wait until they get bigger than my Kourieth. Then, I get all upset and start assigning quadruple-drills and so forth." His gaze wanders to where Kourieth sports in the deeper water, his mouth quirking up, amused.
Andariel can't help but let out a brief chuckle, teasing the weyrlingmaster with a chirpy. "So /that's/ why Llianth and I kept getting extra work to do. I never realised you had a size complex Daer."
Ilesyn's expression is drawn to a smirk - if something of a distant one; her gaze is upon Nallath, considering. "Lucky us."
T'nar hides his snigger behind Baedanth's neck. "I imagine Vith and Eon will get the worst of it in /this/ particular clutch. That bronze is huge."
"Isn't he though?" Daer asks conversationally, shaking his head. "Insane. He'll be able to fly to Monaco non-stop."
Andariel chuckles, though a little disgruntled she didn't manage to get C'daer to bite on her joke, and a little concerned at the comment. "He'd never do anything that silly surely? No matter how big his dragon is."
Ilesyn's head is given a shake, then she rises. "Excuse me." And then: "Come on!" Nallath seems reluctant to move, but follows on eventually.
You amble northeastwards to the southwest bowl.
Posted by Louise at January 29, 2003 05:02 PM