As Bright As Between

Participants:

T'ryn.jpg Alara.jpg

Date: Jul 02, 2010
Location: Lakeside
Synopsis: The weyrwoman complains, and the brownrider tries to comfort. And their dragons do about the same.
Rating: PG for innuendo nearly invisible.
Logger: Alara

Alara sits looking at the empty lake, grabbing the dust and stones from the ground, letting them run through her fingers idly, and then drop back down to the ground. She's not even really paying attention to her hand; the movement seems to be something for her to do as she stares into space. "I know, right?" She responds audibly to Rauzath, who sits curled up behind her, making an easy backrest for the much smaller girl. "You'd think he'd remember to do it right, at least this time. I mean, how many times …" It's not precisely clear what they're talking about, nor does it really matter. Rauzath's hide glows brightly, shining with the clear signs of a proddy queen. She whuffles, turning her head to nuzzle La's black hair. "Yeah. That's true."

Not entirely too far away from the first rider and her queen, do too others take in the sun and dryness that the lake has to offer. The smaller brown seems content in leaving his eyes closed, as he sprawls out like a smaller canine might-dust coming forth with each passing of air from his nostrils. His own rider, T'ryn, has himself occupied with a thick piece of dry wood-the sharper end, being prodded into the terrain as he drags little lines about. Silence having been his order of the day so far, is shattered when he hears Alara's voice causing him to look over to where the queen and rider remain. A faint look back to his brown, before he is coming up from his rather comical-squat, and begins the walk over.
He does stop short, and offer a nod to the dragon before he is looking back to La. "I don't mean to interrupt.." Which does cause the smaller brown to stir and open an eye, which fixates on the back of T'ryn "..your stimulating topic of conversation, but.." And there's a pause and a look over his shoulder "I know what I am doing-" and then attention back. "Who does what right?" Nosey? Just a little-or maybe he's had enough of his stick in the non mud game.

Alara is completely lost. By this point, her mind is so connected with Rauzath's that she has trouble keeping things straight. Not nearly as connected as it is during the flight, but connected enough that the needs of the world can go to the shell. "Huh?" Luckily, it's a familiar face. "Ther. Hey." She smiles shyly up at her old friend. "Grath. He brought her a herdbeast, but it had dirt in it. Drug the damn thing. Normally he does okay, but …" Either that, or the fiery queen is more particular now. She reaches out, patting the ground beside her. "Sit." It's not a command, but it's a little more strongly worded than a polite request. "What're you doing?" The you seems to encompass the man's brown as well.

Rauzath turns toward Ockath, and sniffs at him. He's famliar, and that makes her happy for the moment. She shifts to send her tail toward the brown, teasing him with little flicks.

T'ryn is lucky in so much that Ockath has been wanting to be outside in the sun, and to lay in the dirt-though it will mean cleaning and oiling and that whole sort. And with there being no water here-well getting in is out of the question. However to the sharp wording the man at least does not puzzles long, before taking the seat as was patted. Strong words apparently get him to move like it was nothing at all. "Oh us? Well, we were enjoying the sun." Rather his brown was enjoying the sun-he was along for the ride and the conversation. "And I thought I would work on m' letters." His own accent, not one of the usual educated kinds some might find within holds or the weyr, rather a muttled map of places he has been. "But?" He lets it hang, however-before pressing on. "Maybe th' weight was more than he expected. Happened to us not too long ago, but he'll eat through grit." And he would argue the brown prefers it that way, despite what he might claim to.

Ockath raises that eye lid of his again as his head raises just enough to take in the queen. Familiar, check-and happy-check. Ockath lowers his head and offers a whuffle back in reply, before snorting out a small cloud of dust. However to the flicks of the tail, he moves, ever so slightly, as if trying to get back into comfort, before his own tail slides, a poke back to the teasing one.

"Your letters? Still at it, then?" Alara was Harper-raised, right in the Hall, and even taught some of the smallest before she handed them over to the real Harpers. "If you need some help… well, not today, unfortunately, but maybe when we're sitting… come and visit us and I'll…" She's not sure what she'll do. The overwhelming presence in her mind is telling her to say things that she'd regret. She has Turns of practice of keeping those words inside, but they can slip. So, she merely gives him a small smile, and hopes he understands.

Rauzath is pleased with the return attention. It makes her more aware of the movements of her tail, especially when there's another one nearby. She twists her tail spades around his, attempting to catch his in a tangle that mimics the neck-twining.

Dragon> To Ockath, Rauzath projects « There was dirt, Ockath. Dirt. In my herdbeast. » She's willing to explain this to a listening ear. Her Own is not being very understanding. « There were tiny rocks. »

"T' some degree, yes." T'ryn was a trader, and as his facial markings denote, not one of the richest ones out there. "Well, yeah an no. I'm trying to get them all pretty like, as you see on paper, instead of the scratch I got going." Don't worry he is not about to give a demonstration as he shifts to bring a knee up to rest an arm. "Yes?" It's the sudden pause that catches him offguard. Perhaps he is more used to an elaborate or rather talkative Alara. "Fix em straighter? Right now they're crookeder than a grub's spine." See like that he continues-though it is no surprise as to why one is preoccupied. It could simply be that time of the Turn. "Anyway. Sides th' dirt how have you been?" meaning of course the rider and her dragon.

Ockath seems to let out another noise, as he becomes more attentive. Tail twisting back, and not jerking away as he can be prone to doing, it seems the brown is in a fine mood to be company this day. His forelimbs move to come and cross before him, as he raises his head, only to rest down on them and keep both dark eyes on the gold.

Dragon> To Rauzath, Ockath mentally grunts, before his own mindvoice trickles back « Dirt's not too bad eating sometimes, Rauzath. Why I've eaten some things right up, dirt beneath em and all. » clearly the brown is not a picky eater. Though there seems to be no chiding. He is listening « Did you still eat it? »

"We're … We're … we're here." Alara gestures wildly, expecting him to notice the signs. If he's just being polite, she can understand. "I just can't think like this." And to this pair's well-organized minds, that's a problem. "I've gotten used to it, I mean, it's that time of Turn…" Her mind runs along a similar track to his, though without knowing it. "I just always forget how foggy it makes us." She turns to Rau, idly scratching a spot on her hide, watching her twist tails with the man's brown. "It wouldn't be so rough for you to catch again…" That's about as close of a compliment as she can muster right now. "We did alright." As to the point of his conversation — the letters, La is smiling again. "I can show you a few tricks. They teach the littles sometimes with lined hides. Well, or paper…" Depending on the Harper involved, but that's not important, so it's forgotten. "Keepin' em in line, and making them fit inside the spaces like …" She blushes slightly, then raps on Rauzath's hide. "Shut it, you. This is hard enough." After a moment, and an indrawn breath, "Like fitting firelizards into those tiny cracks. You know. They sort of sit in a certain way…" She snickers, and raps on the gold's bright hide again. "You know what I mean."

Rauzath lowers her own head to gaze at the brown, her eyes whirling with the purple of lust. The tail-play continues as much as she possibly can, and for a moment, she turns her head to reply to something Alara says, then shifts to let a different part of her skin show to the sunshine.

Dragon> To Ockath, Rauzath projects « Of course I ate it. I was hungry! And I shouldn't have to eat dirt. It doesn't taste as good as the herdbeast. Meat and bones and skin and hair. That's enough. And blood. » Her words seem to cut off abruptly there, but the scents smell like the baths full of dusty people. »

"I know-" And there a clue given, perhaps with the help of his brown back to him, as he simply falls into a stammer. Despite the Turns and words shared with his own, Ockath still manages to catch T'ryn off, or slam down a hammer to something he should notice beyond their usual goings back and forth. "Oh." A glance back to his brown and then over to the gold for a good moment. "Yeah-yeah." He'll go straight off of polite, that's a better hide than he was tryin' t' focus in on something beyond the foggymind. "Err Fit." And there she goes blushing, and he is reaching up to rub along one of those black lines. Right now he is trying to get back on track "In ' the right slots-err holes." See what happens when one catches a clue. And with that T'ryn scrunches up his face and coughs once. "Thanks for the help." said back to the brown-before he is back to nodding. As if trying to push along. "Rockmites woulda been better..tinier an harder to scramble in.." And now he's just flailing mentally about. "Uh." and then a nod as he adds his crooked grin. "Naw..wouldn't be rough.." and he is looking towards the pair. "He's got a mind to-" And there he falls silent. "So Uh…Drills." Yup a change of lines, or places things should fit is in order.

Ockath lets his tail curl a little tighter, as the play continues, only to let those dark eyes take on a darker tone of themselves. Feeling or at least the raw instinct is reciprocated, and a rumble comes along in his throat- as talons stir up little bits of dust, and terrain with little scratches. However when the attention turns to the Gold's rider he is looking on over to his T'ryn and chuffing. And he turns ever so slightly as if to get warmer.

Dragon> To Rauzath, Ockath projects « Well, no one should have t' eat dirt..Just sometimes Dirt's already there. » A grump in the words, but then that is usual for the brown. « Blood's another side to the hide as it stands. Sometimes the blood can taste off. Doesn't mean the meat is bad, or the hides or hair. Just it ate or did something different. Sides I don't think…» And like that he is trailing off for the moment apparently quite aware of things. That or he is watching His Own's stammering attempts. « Bright as the Void he is, some days. »

Alara's snickers continue for a moment, then she pauses, inhales, drawing her attention back to being a 'proper weyrwoman.' She excuses the other things completely, focusing on the safe things. "Right. Drills. What do you think of J'cobi's leadership?" It's an honest question, and something she's been curious about. "Is he doing an adequate job of keeping them busy?" She is about to continue the questionnaire, but Rauzath butts her back with her nose. "Alright, darlin' we'll go get you some of that oil. We'll fix you up and make that horrible itch go away…" She croons softly, then turns back to the brownrider. "Oh, I'm sorry, she's got an itch, and I didn't bring the oil out with us…" it merits them going back toward their ledge.

Dragon> To Ockath, Rauzath is amused at this one. He's a keeper, he is. But … « Shells. It itches. » She gives him a mental taste of it, and it seems to overpower. It's like being a hatchling again, all consumed by the little things. « Mine will take me home and take care of me. » She always does.

Rauzath untwines her tail, and nudges her rider up to her feet. She whuffles happily, and turns toward her weyr, giving soft rumbles to audibly, and probably mentally, prod her rider to follow.

T'ryn is right flushed himself, before he nods, coughing again. As for J'cobi's style of leadership, this makes T'ryn frown, mainly as he is now in concentration and thus can't be entirely taken as anything else. "He's alright I guess..Bark's worse than his bite?" A polite way-but then T'ryn is not about to talk down the Wingleader one way or the other, whether he agrees or not. "A very good job. He's got the young ones up enough an I have my own rounds.." Which means everyone is kept busy. However to the need of depature he nods. "Of course. We'll be here, as He wants some more sun.." And with that he's raising a hand and giving a salute. "I'll come an sit later, La. You have a good. err. oiling." Nice.


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