Firestone And Firebreathing


Ahnika.jpg Balkrith Ciara.jpg Eovarijath F'min.jpg Jhath L'ron.jpg Suosith Rocio.jpg Voldrath

Date: 9/15/10
Location: EW: Upper Bowl East
Synopsis: This is the second of the weyrling classes given by F'min on this subject (firestone), and in this lesson, he is challenged (politely) by Rio, and (not so politely) by Ahnika, while among the rest of the weyrling class, Ciara and L'ron look observe the headbutting with interest and unease.
Rating: PG
Logger: Ahnika

Eastern Weyr: Upper Bowl East

The eastern section of the upper bowl is flat. Compared to the rest of this bowl, it's almost polished. The smell of grass seed and dragon oil permeates the air here, occasionally joined by the sweet scent of timothy hay. On the far eastern wall is the entrance to the beast caverns, surrounded by the strong wooden fencing that encloses the seedlings of grass in the area that will be the Feeding Pens. Further north, the weyrling barracks are nestled into the northeast corner; the whole area is a constant haze of activity. Most of the cross-bowl traffic is further west of here, kept centered by the uneven lay of that ground. Because of that, this area is a popular spot for those who want to spend free time lounging in the sun or taking a meal outdoors. To the south is the ever-growing scoop in the ground where - hopefully - the lake will be soon.

Waiting as the weyrlings assemble, F'min leans back against a large brown dragon laden with bulging sacks that appear to be quite heavy. As before, he whittles, the little shavings floating from the quick, sure knicks of his belt knife. It is beginning to look like a whistle with a pod of shipfish frolicking up the sides. However this time he doesnt lounge for long, waiting to make sure they're all there. Instead, as soon as the appointed time arrives, he stows his knife and the carving. His fingers lift to his mouth to let out that sharp, piercing whistle. "Ranks weyrlin's. Dragonets can stand aside until y're in order." Taking something from one of the sacks, he strides out and faces them to mark the center column, letting them form up from there. As before, he stands feet planted and hands behind his back. Once all are in place he nods to Voldrath, who instructs the dragonets to go stand to the right of their riders.

On time and wearing a notably -grey- outfit, Rio might be trying to match her dragon, or she might simply be wearing a hue that has a better chance of hiding stains than her previous outfit that was critiqued by a certain brownrider. She takes a quick sidelong glance to both flanking persons, then skips sideways one person, to get her position correct. Takes a moment, but she's there. Her gold is watching the sky, where a squadron of dragons practices a flight maneuver.

Among the first few who arrive, Ahnika and Jhath offer a salute to the weyrlingmasters present (with Jhath saluting with a quick snap of her wings) and then polite bow to the gold weyrling pairs present and take up their positions, first with Ahnika easily finding the place she was assigned before while Jhath awaits instructions patiently with a dignified posture along the sidelines. Ahni briefly helps the next row over remember their positions, but not snapping at them, her tone is one of calm problem-solving encouragement, as she had used when helping Indira organize some of the drudges before she was Searched. Once they have it, she resumes her parade rest stance as F’min had described in previous formations, facing forward and eyes straight ahead. It is when Voldrath orders the dragonets to stand to the right of their riders that Ahni moves over with the rest of her column, as does many others of course, to make room for their nearly two-month old hulking lifemates, compared to their hatching sizes at any rate. And then the redhead settles once more in parade rest, while soldiering camo-hided Jhath, beside her, adopts a similar noble-bearing and disciplined poise.

F'min doesn't turn his head, but his eyes seem to find the two latecomers as they slip into their places, dragonets beside them. "P'ret an'L'don, y'll run three laps around th'entire weyr bowl after th'class. When y're given a time t'show up, be there," he tells the two sternly. "Now that everyone's in line, weyrlin's take two steps forward from y'r lifemates. Keep y'r formation. Y'should able t'see th'person in front, behind an't'each side as before." From behind his back he produces a stone about twice the size of his own fist. Strolling down to the end of the first row, he tosses it to the weyrling standing there. "V'tol, will y'please tell th'class what that is."
The weyrling catches it and looks at it, then gives a sniff, wrinkling his nose. "It's firestone…. sir." There's a pause in which F'min's eyebrows raise before he remember the title.
The brown rider nods once. "Toss th'stone t'th'next weyrlin'across. All o'y'take a look at th'stone an'pass it t'th'next person. Do not walk over an'hand it t'them. Toss. It." Taking a couple steps back, he rolls up his sleeves, watching the stone.

Having no one in front of her, Rio just waits, shifted somewhat sideways so she can see next to her. When she has the rock in her hand, she'll finger it, scratch it with a fingernail, then turn to toss it to the bronzer next to her, before tracking F'min's progress through the ranks. The briefest of looks at Rio, while her lifemate is holding the rock, is Eovarijath's entire reaction, before she returns to watching the formation. Her wingtips quiver, somewhat. And her tail flicks.

There is no show of sympathy for the latecomers from either Jhath or Ahnika. First of all, they are both rather into regimented discipline, especially Jhath it seems, and so think it only suitable punishment for being late. Secondly, they are too focused on maintaining their own position to give anyone anywhere else any sort of expression one way or another. But after Ahni takes those two steps forward as ordered, and with F’min bringing out the firestone and offering it to V’tol, now, that sets their eyes to darting looks in that direction, both weyrling and dragonet, and then watching it get tossed (or dropped) from weyrling to weyrling as far as their eyes can scan while their heads remain facing forward and straight ahead. When it finally gets around to them, Ahnika catches it much like catching a tossed tuber or children’s toy, simply and efficiently, and then she is examining it. Perhaps taking among the longest times from the rest of the weyrlings in studying it, Jhath is included as the larger green dragonet takes her cue from her lifemate that it is okay to move now simply because Ahni had to move in order to catch the darn thing to begin with, so while she remains settled where she is, her head turns and hovers over her lifemate’s shoulder, inhaling the scent of the firestone and twitching with barely bridled excitement. There is a pause and Ahni shakes her head at some silent question and then she tosses the firestone to the next weyrling in an easy underhand toss, trying not to make it too challenging for the shorter weyrling beside her to catch it. Then the green weyrling pair return to their disciplined postures.

The rows of weyrlings are looked over, and this time no one is called to task for stains or sloppy attire. Once the stone has made it's way across the front row and is traveling across the second row, F'min follows its path along that front row, his laden dragon to his side. As he goes, he tosses a sack to the feet of the weyrling at the head of the column, warning the weyrlings not to touch them, yet. Each one lands a hands breadth from the booted toes, settling with a heavy thud that raises a puff of dust. When he reaches the end, he waits for the last catch of the stone holds a hand up for it to be returned to him. He catches it neatly in that hand and tucks into the last sack, which thuds to the feet of the last weyrling in the front row. "Now, most o'y', if not all o'y', dug in th'lake durin'y'r candidacy. Many of y'wondered what that could possibly have t'do with bein'a dragon rider. Here's y'r answer. Th'first people in line may now lift th'sack in front o'them, an'give it t'th'person behind them. There's no need t'attempt t'throw it." He waits, and watches, as the weyrlings reach down and give their first tug at the nearly one hundred pound sacks of rock.

Rio watches the dust swirl and settle on her newly polished boots and she does indulge herself in a moment of vindictive imagination on what she could possibly do in retaliation. The flicker lasts only a moment, before she leans down to try to heft the sack. Rio didn't dig in the lake, but she hauled a lot of /shit/ around, of various vintages and varieties. But she didn't do it in 100 pound increments, and Rio herself weighs about that much. She casts a look over at F'min that isn't exactly readable above her veil, and it might not even be seen, so brief it is, before she tries to hop-schootch the bag behind her. The bronze Weyrling on her left steps forward to help her, but his assistance is waved away by the brown Weyrling behind her, who shoots a worried look toward the Weyrlingmaster.

Eo? Watching the formations above. Her left wing shivers. Then she seems to wake up to her lifemate's plight. A sinuous head snakes over, and the muzzle takes the bag, swings it in front of the brown Weyrling, before Eovarijath turns that elegant wedge-shaped muzzle up to watch the flurry of showing-off by the greens of the wing high above.

Still as stone themselves, Ahnika and Jhath remain in military position, while others in the middle and back may actually lean this way and that to try and get an idea about this sack that is coming down the column at them. Jhath, however, being probably one of the biggest in her column of greens has the advantage of height, and so it is little surprise that Ahnika had some kind of internal heads up and she rolls her shoulders slightly just before the person in front of her gets the sack of firestones from the person in front of them, and by the time she is being handed the sack itself, she has adjusted the positioning of her feet a little and the way her weight is balanced down her back and legs so that she is able to bear the weight of the sack more appropriately and safely as she is handed it and in turn hands it off to the person behind her. The tall redhead’s not a weight-lifter, to be sure, but between her time helping the drudges and her time as a Candidate, she’s learned a thing or two about how to deal with heavy labor so as not to wrench your back out. With a grunt, the task is done and she fights with excruciating effort not to dust off her hands on her breeches before returning to her formation stance. If she spies anyone immediately around her not “putting their backs in it” to do it properly, as it were, they will get a frown. Except for the golds, of course, because goldriders are different. Even Jhath reveres their higher station without them needing to prove themselves “in battle” as she would expect of the other dragons.

Walking around to the end of Rio's row, F'min takes a few strides and tosses the sack back to almost exactly the place where Eovarijath picked it up to help her lifemate.
"A dragon cannot eat enough rock t'sustain flame through an entire Fall all at once. Not only is their stomach not big enough, it would be like y'eatin'a hatchin'feast, an' then tryin't'run around th'bowl twenty times. Y'wouldn'make it. So, as soon as y're cleared t'go between, y'will be flyin' resupply wing durin'Fall. Which means, y'all need t'be able t'throw a bag," he nods to the sacks he replaced, "jus' like that one,with absolute, perfect accuracy. Which, y'r dragon cannot do for y'. Y'll have t'do for y'rselves, an'that starts now." The hint is unmistakable for Rio as he looks pointedly to her, then to the sack. "There can be no mistakes. If a bag is over o'under thrown, an'a rider can't catch it, it can hit a rider below who is unaware… that much rock fallin' on a rider can easily kill them…" he pauses there to look around, letting that bit of information sink in.

Rio lets the sack sit there, then. She does not touch it. Eovarijath tilts her head at Rio, then she will eye the brown dragon, before turning to look over at F'min. Eovarijath's regard likely betrays what Rio's calm demeanor does not. Red begins to swirl through the scintillating orbs. The gold dragon pulls her wings into herself, in a stance of annoyed readiness. She does not touch the bag either.

Ahnika listens carefully as F’min speaks of the dangers of mis-throwing one of the sacks and a hint of a frown touches her lips, but otherwise, she keeps formation and position. Jhath watches it all with her multifaceted eyes from her height and a mixture of fascination and approval for the exercise, though she doesn’t move her head or otherwise move from her noble posture.

F’min returns to the front of the class, standing directly in front of Rio. "The class will not continue until y'finish what y'start, Weyrlin' Rio," he says evenly. "Y'could've been told t'start from th'beginnin' again. Y'were not. Finish th'distance t'th'rider behind y'. An'watch y're emotion. What y're not showin' me, y'r dragon is." His voice lowers, to not carry beyond her ears. For the rest of the class he raises his voice, leaving Rio to make her decision.
"Another possible consequence of not throwin'th'bag well," Fmin continues as he motions to Voldrath, who sweeps his wing down. Being able to actually inspect the brown, the weyrlings can see that the main edge is thicker than it should be, due to the extensive thread scoring, which appears to have tried to cut off the dragon's wing before it extends up over the dragon's withers. It starts to trail off towards the neck, where it is interrupted by the outline of a torso and outstretched arm. "It was a Fall that Thread was blowin'everywhere it shoudln'. Th'bag was overthrown, an'we couldn'go between until I was sure I had caught it. Both Voldrath an' I spent a couple sevendays in th'infirmary. Th'time spent there was only made tolerable by a certain blue rider smugglin'Seacraft Ale in behind th'healer's back." He pauses with a reminiscent grin, then he looks up at the class, turning away from the sight of the scoring on his lifmate. "It was almost half a turn b'fore Voldrath could fly properly again." He doesn't take his shirt off, but leaves it to their imagination by the outline of his body on his dragon's back.

There's a request, then, in Rio's alto: "This bag weighs as much as I do, sir, and I do not know of a single human who can heft a bag equal to their own weight in a throw, sir. If I might have two more bags, I would be happy to split this bag into three safer bags, which I could, in fact, throw on a resupply mission, and which would not endanger another rider." Rio, as well as the others, looks at Voldrath, but she does not ask the question that immediately attends Eovarijath's attention to Voldrath's scoring. Rio returns to looking at F'min, to wait for his answer. No undertoned speech. Nothing else.

Being as tall as Ahni is, she doesn’t have to crane her neck or lean off to the side to see ahead of her and with Voldrath’s size, she has a pretty decent visual of the consequences of missing a sack of firestone. There is a twitching of her right hand, wishing to lift it and give Jhath’s headknobs a rub at the sight, but she doesn’t break the military stance. It is Rio’s alto that captures her attention next, and Ahni schools her expression neutral while giving a slight nod of approval for Rio’s backbone. Jhath’s eyes swirl in a similar expression, but she remains quiet and in formation, as her lifemate.

F'min turns on his heel, facing Rio from his spot beside the brown. "I did not ask y't'throw th'sack, Weyrlin'. In fact, I'd be surprised anyone could throw th'sack in this first attempt, an'many did not. I said for y't'give th'sack t'th'person behind y'which y'were doin'just fine with until Eovarijath picked it up. It doesn'matter how y'get it there, as long as /you/ get it there." He paces back to his place in front of the weyrlings. "Just as we don'expect y'r dragons t'be able t'be able fly right away, we don'expect y't'be able t'throw around th'sacks on th'first day. Tonight will be a night where y'start learnin'exercises t'strengthen y'rselves, as well as y'r dragons."

The Weyrlings stand in ranks, metallics in front, and the chromatics behind. Each rider is flanked by his or her dragon, and there's a series of sacks that may or may not be being passed down the line, from rider to rider. The sacks are about a hundred pounds, filled with firestone.

Rio's eyes narrow just slightly at F'min, but she nods, as if there's a comprehension, and she bites her tongue. That feat fortunately remains unseen behind her veil. The dragon's eyes flush even more red, however, though both gold and rider seem under control. Rio will turn and procede, with great effort, to drag, roll and otherwise try to persuade to move, a sack her own weight, the span between herself and the brownrider who is behind her.

Jhath had been able to mind her tongue, so to speak, during the whole situation up until now because she was easily a little more fascinated and distracted with the actual knowledge and training being gained here today. But as Rio is given the order to get the sack back to the brownrider behind her and the gold weyrling works at complying with said order, the large and loud green dragonet sounds off an encouraging bugle over the heads of the other weyrlings and in the direction of Rio, cheering her on with her Trial of Strength, and seeming to have more faith in Rio for this task than perhaps anyone else here, including Ahni, really. And maybe save F’min too. The redhead, herself, cuts her grey eyes peripherally to her lifemate, a smirk tugging at her lips, but keeps her head forward for now.

L'ron's been silent throughout doing his bit as instructed despite having had to really put his back into it to get that sack handed over. Rio's troubles earn a sympathetic flicker of brown eyes that way, but nothing is said, preferring rather not to draw attention to himself just now. Balkrith on the other hand while quiet, has not necessarily been completely still. Following the sack's progress with great interest and even trying to give it a sniff as it went passed where he is stationed. It's probably all the blue weyrling can do to keep his bonded in place while firmly reminding that no; this is indeed, not a game.

Dragon> To Jhath, Voldrath projects « Sentiment appreciated, but please remain quiet. »

Almost as soon as the sack makes it to the feet of the brown weyrling, F'min is there. He looks down at Rio with a nod. "Well done," he tells the goldrider. He lifts the sack, and takes it back up front with him, dropping it to the ground and opening it. "Before we continue, are there any questions?" He lifts a rock from the sack, and looks around, a glance and a nod summoning one of the taller boys from the front row towards him.

Dragon> To Jhath, Eovarijath sifts dust through pale illumination « This teaches nothing. There is no point to the exercise. I did not choose her because of her physical strength. If we resupply firestone to fighting dragons, we will not do it in these huge sacks. So why do we practice these sacks? »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Jhath whispers with soft applause of a hot fire on a hearth, the flames licking high with excitement, but not overbearing in heat or crackling with rage, and it is accompanied with the pungent scent of incense, heady, dignified, and sacred, « I will honor your request for now. You and yours know much, Voldrath, about this and are generally doing well. But you and yours should consider saying and doing things more to lift their spirits and prepare their hearts. It does not help to douse the fire that would best be served flaming Thread, my Brown Battle Brother. »

Voldrath's head goes up, and his eyes whirling faster as he looks towards the bugler. He gives a low grumble, his tongue flicking out.

Dragon> To Eovarijath, Jhath offers a soothing, warm fire at her hearth, with sweet heady incense drifting softly aloft, « Mine, m'lady, has told me that it is easier to do things with sacks of lesser weighted items when one is accustomed to heavier weighted items. This, mine believes, will build their strength up now more safely, so that when the time comes to throw lighter sacks, it will not be as demanding of their strength or dangerous to them or those to whom they pitch the sacks. Though I admit I do not know why those in charge do not better explain this. » Some of the flames at her hearth scatter a bit, as if a breeze has been let in suddenly, and then they settle back to their warm, confident blaze.

Dragon> To Jhath, Voldrath projects « You are not in a position to lecture young one. No fire has been stamped out. You speak out of turn, and yours shall have to run laps after class. »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Jhath's heated hearth is stoked and the flames lick higher yet, now overbearing and crackling with ire, « It was a RECOMMENDATION, Voldrath! Are you so proud in that brown hide of yours not to hear the needs of those of whom you are to lead? Are you so villainous as to deny your ear to your very charges!? If so, then we are all doomed who follow you into the skies to flame Thread. I weep for our future! »

Voldrath raises on his hind legs, his wings fanning out. He bugles and then drops to all fours, his eyes whirling redly as his head snakes low to the ground, but he doesn't pass his rider. However, F'min's head comes up, and the eyes that had just been proud with praise of one weyrling now turn icicles to another weyrling. "Ahnika. You will take Jhath into the barracks, and you will wait there until told otherwise."

Dragon> To Jhath, Eovarijath snaps the contact stonger, and asks, « Why? » A stampede of honest runner sweat is buffered by the cloud of dust as light seems to flicker in the mental connection.

Seeming mildly distracted, if Ahnika's slightly unfocused grey eyes are any indication, the redhead merely looks ahead of her, remaining in position. She doesn't appear to have any questions at this time. Her green, however, has eyes that have gone from blue to yellow to brilliant red and when Voldrath grumbles at her, she actually hisses back. The only indication of a reaction from Ahni to this is a slight frown tugging at her lips, and her eyes suddenly snap out of it and focus on F'min. She frowns once more, steps out of formation to salute F'min appropriately, and then does something kind of stupid, but entirely Ahni, "She was only making a recommendation, sir. Voldrath overreacted." If her dragon is to be damned for speaking out of turn, well, it looks like her lifemate will be damned right with her. "I'm fine with running the extra laps. He had no reason to take that tone with her, though." As if she heard the tone herself, then added belatedly, "Sir."

Now that both sack and Weyrlingmaster have headed up front again, Balkrith leeeeans out to the side in order to be able to peer round a bigger green in front of him and keep his eyes firmly on that sack. One can only imagine what must be going through the blue's mind. L'ron shoots him a hard sidelong -look- and the blue quickly pulls himself back up straight and makes as if he'd never moved in the first place. Him move? You're imagining things! At F'min's query, the blue weyrling remains silent, not having any questions at this point. He does however shoot a startled look first the Weyrlingmaster's way and then over to Ahnika when she suddenly steps out of formation and does with the explanation, a frown settling into place as he glances between the ruffled dragons, older brown and weyrling green. Yeeeah, he's staying out of this one for now, though one can be sure he'll be seeking the redhead out later.

Dragon> To Eovarijath, Jhath 's warmth is more of an inferno right now, but it is kept back some distance from you as she speaks, as if she is angry with someone else and not Eo. Distractedly, she responds, « I do not know, m'lady. I shall attempt to find out at the earliest convenience. »

Dragon> To Jhath, Eovarijath sends, then, an arid breeze, sand-laden, with some sing-song attempt at low-key violin strings. « Calm. »

The stone in his hands is dropped as F'min stalks towards the green rider. "You. Will do. So. Much. More. Than. Run." He informs her quietly. "I was according y'th'respect o'not receivin'a dressin'down in front o'th'entire class. Since y'seem determined t'make it public, I will give y'y'r wish. Yes, my dragon has pride. He has reason t'have pride. Y'r dragon is barely hatched, an'in NO postiion t'be makin' any reccomendations. What. So. Ever. Sh'is NOT his battle sister, yet. An'until she is, she will remember her place, as will you." Backing off, the furious eyes in a face almost red rake over the rest of the class. "None. Of. You. Are in any position t'question how any o'y'r weyrlingmasters teach what y'need t'learn. Fightin' Thread is not some grand ballad, as th'Harper's teach y'. It's blood, it's sweat, it's pain, it's flyin' when y'think y'can't fly any more an'throwin' yet another stone in y'r dragon's mouth when y'think y're arms're goin't'fall off. Take a good look at th'person an'th'dragon standin' next t'y'. Fightin'thread may one day be hearin'them scream in pain as they're burned. Y'don'get tough enough t'handle thay by havin'y'r hand held an'bein'molly coddled. Y'get there becuase someone who knows more than y'do about fightin'thread pushes y't'do more than perhaps y'think y'can. An'y'find out y'can. I, an'th'other weyrlingmasters will not ask more ov'y'than y'can do. But we do, an'will, expect discipline, respect, an'obedience from y'in th'process. Y'think I've been hard on Rio?" he asks the question of the red headed weyrling he stands in front of again. "I could've taken th'bag back t'th'beginnin'an' made her start over her again. I did not. I requested she finish what she started because I knew she could do it. An'she did. Did I hurt her in any way? Did I insult her or call her names? I did not. There's a big difference between discipline 'n' beatin'someone down. It's a line that y'r dragon does not know yet, an'has no call t'be /reccommendin'/ t'my dragon that I should be kinder. An' sh'certainly has no call t'tell him that all dragons led by him're doomed. You. Will. Go. To the barracks, now. Both of you."

Dragon> To Jhath, Eovarijath just fumes through the connections, but not at Jhath. « Pride is the downfall of many. » Just that, in absolute confident soprano.

Now Rio's eyes have gone to almost slits. But she stands still, where she is. Her concentration is, indeed, with her gold and her gold's attention tracks the movements of her green clutchmate. Once more, Eovarijath's eyes swirl that livid red, but perhaps Voldrath should be happy — Eovarijath isn't watching the sky anymore.

As F’min approaches, the fiery redhead stands her ground, and her eyes meet his, possibly without even needing to look up as tall as she is. Her fiery green, Jhath, isn’t backing down either, now hissing and spitting at the weyrlingmaster as he approaches her lifemate, but maintaining her distance, wary and calculating enough to know that no matter how big she is for a green, Voldrath is still bigger (so far). Just the same, she flaps her wings menacingly and threateningly, though is rather considerate of any other dragons and weyrlings around her, so they don’t fully extend in her grand show. As she sees it, Voldrath has thrown down the proverbial gauntlet and his rider is now challenging hers. Ahnika, for her part, makes no effort to soothe her own little, or not so little, firecracker near her side, and in fact seems to almost relish the passionate display, for by the end of F’min’s little diatribe, the redhead is not cowed as one might think from the public dressing down. Quite the opposite, Ahni is actually smiling coldly, “Thank you, sir. You’ve proven our point nicely. You’re as much of an incompetent arrogant porcine-headed twit as your dragon who doesn’t deserve to teach us if you don’t understand us and can’t explain a sharding thing.” And with that, she salutes again, pivots on her bootheels and turns and stalks off to the barracks, synchronized with a snap of Jhath’s jaws, and a hissing retreat on behalf of the lumbering green dragonet who, for once, is not quite in step with her lifemate as they head back to the barracks.

L'ron's eyes grow wide as F'min launches into furious lecture mode and then in an usual display for him, his jaw tightens fractionally. Glancing sideways to those either side of him he then sends Balkrith the barest shake of head as the little blue with the equivalent of a draconic gulp, makes as if to sidle in closer to his bonded. Dat man's -skeery-! Not to mention that hulking big brown up front that could squish him like a turnip. And then one can almost see the cogs of a Cunning Plan slowly rotating into life, « We should offer Voldrath a turnip as gift toward his continued good will. » as if that would somehow buy him favour with the big brown. Riiight. More like -disfavour-. All that earns the blue dragonet is a sharp narrowing of eyes from L'ron, as he hisses in quick mental response, « I catch you trying to do that, and there'll be no turnips for a full seven! Now stop messing around and at least look like you're paying attention. » It's not seconds later that Ahnika's terse comeback for the Weyrlingmaster is strung out on the air, and the blue weyrling has a hard time in trying not to simply gape at the fiery redhead, brows hiking up almost into his hairline. Hard to tell whether it's that she had the spine to do so, or the content thereof that has him staring after her and Jhath's backs as they march themselves off to the barracks.

Ciara stands gaping as Ahnika leaves in a manner that could only be expected from her and Jhath. The gold weyrling hides a slight smile at her friend's defiance behind a small cough, her hand covering her mouth as she lightly clears her throat…or not, if you have any experience with fake noises. Suosith's wings shiver as she stares after Jhath, before curling her tail around Ci's feet. Now the gold is looking at Voldrath, though her rider's attention is on F'min - but not after a glance at L'ron to see his reaction to the…um, disagreement. Her eyebrows are raised when she looks over at the blue weyrling.

F'min does not watch the pair leave. He motions the weyrling that he had summoned to the front to help him demonstrate back to his place, his jaw working as he returns to the front of the class. He gives a scratch to the eyeridge of his dragon, who, unlike the green that had tried to look threatening, had remained entirely still the entire time. The red of the eyes slows in speed, and the rider turns to face the class again. "Despite what certain ov'y'may think, I am not here for my own pride. I am here t'make sure each an'every one ov'y'stays alive t'th'best o'my ability." His voice has regained its calm as he looks them over. "When y'fly fall, y'r Wingleader will not have time t'cheer y'on when y're asked t'do somethin'difficult. There is no time for that. Y're told t'do it, an' y'do it. When y'reach th'end o Fall alive, havin'done what was asked, y'will be told y'have done well." If the weyrlings are able to remember, that is exactly what F'min did. "It is best that y'start from th'beginnin' as it will be when y're fightin'. T'get y'used t'how things will be. An'when y're not doin'y'r best, or're out o'line, y'will be told that as well. There is not a single rider that at some point has not made a mistake or spoken out o'turn. We all make mistakes, an'it's our duty t'accept it when we're told we make a mistake, an'move on. Gettin'angry an'makin' a show of how brave y'are will not only get y'in more trouble, but it will mean y're not learnin'."

Being one of open expression, it is with great effort that L'ron is having school back whatever he might be thinking, from showing in his 'eyes front' expression. Then again, perhaps some of the discomfort coming from the pacifist blue weryling shows through being as how he's not very good at hiding things. Eyes slip slightly sideways in their forward line of attention and his shoulders shift in the semblance of a shrug for that raised brow look coming from Ciara. As to F'min and what he says after Ahnika and Jhath have left, there is not indication as to whether the blue weyrling agrees or disagrees, merely a sharp nod of head to indicate he'd heard the words. Balkrith for his part draws away from that slight lean he'd taken towards his bonded and simply fixes Voldrath with a long-eyed stare, which might across as completely vacant in its delivery.

Ciara pales at F'min's speech, and her right hand finds a spot to rest on at the top of Suosith's neck before it attaches to her head. She looks away when L'ron gives that very small shrug, focusing on F'min as best she can, even as his words draw up images she'd rather not be seeing in her mind's eye. An active imagination can be a bad thing. She looks a little sick, in combination with that pale face. Suosith croons a sweet note, tightening so that she's closer to Ci.

"Now," F'min glances up at the sun. "If y'will all find a partner an'a rock from the sacks about th'size o'y'r head, we can begin with th'first exercise to strengthen your muscles. If y'find th'rock t'heavy for starters, than please use a smaller one." The brownrider will again call up the tall weyrling, and when all have partners and rocks, he will start with an exercise standing back to back with the lad. They will pass the stone by rotating their upper body's around. Take the stone from one side, swing it around in front, and hand it back on the other side. Directions will be switched after five passes, and the exercise repeated twice.

Selecting a rock from the sack when it comes round his way, L'ron hefts it in his hand, eyeing F'min in such a way that one might be forgiven for thinking he's of a mind to lob it at the Weyrlingmaster's head. He doesn't however, and the look was brief before he pairs up with another bluerider and gets down to the exercise as outline. Balkrith however, managed to steal a rock out of the sack and is currently trying to encourage a green from up front to a 'game' in imitation of the one their riders are currently playing. He might be out of line and out of formation but heck, at least he's paying attention. Sort of.

Ciara takes great care in selecting a rock of the right size, once Suosith's unwound from about her feet. Then she pairs up with A'kon, who's about the right height for their backs to match up for the exercise. The pair aren't masters of this task, but they're trying their best, even if it does involve much bumping of shoulder blades and them nearly dropping the rock now and then. Suosith sits a short distance away, watching Balkrith and the green with amusement.

"L'ron, please be sure that Balkrith is using a normal stone and not a firestone," F'min mentions lightly. "If he accidentally crunches it you could have one sick blue." After completing a set with the weyrling, F'min moves about the group, adjusting hands and making other corrections. He places firm hands on Ciara's A'kon's shoulders to show them how to brace against each other during the twisting and passing off. When all have done the required amount of repetitions, the rider will work with them all on the correct positions for push ups, both from the knees and feet, sit ups, a variety of curls and overhead lifts with rocks, making sure no one uses a rock too heavy. After they go through the sets, he returns to the front. "Don't try doin' these exercises more than three times in a sevenday. I've showed them t'y'usin'firestone because it's a rock that y're goin't'be seein' a lot of. Y'll be sackin'it before falls shortly. Y'can use any rocks y'find, or weights. The idea is t'do as many as y'can, but don't overdo it. Y're just beginnin'. If it hurts, stop." He puts sacks at the beginning of the columns. "Please return y'r rocks t'th'sacks. Y've done well t'day, an'some o'y'came a long way for y'r first time. Y're dismissed."

Try as he might, L'ron can't seem to get Balkrith to give up on the 'game'. When the blue loses sight of the rock, he starts in after chasing his own tail by mistake ending up in a tangled pile of wings and limbs with the startled green. Ears reddening in embarrassment he steps away from his partner and retrieves the rock which indeed turns out to be firestone and drops it back into a sack with a no-nonsense look sent the very sad looking little blue who, currently turnip-less, is now rockless too. But he's -bored- and needs something to -do-, so it's not long before he turns his attention to the unopened sacks and tries the pass-it-down-the-line thing he'd seen the weyrlings doing earlier, with the flat of his head. As such, L'ron misses some of what F'min demonstrates in terms up exercises, being as how he's currently playing tug-of-war with his blue to get the sack away from him. Well, that's exercise in itself, right?

Ciara lets F'min adjust her position against A'kon's back, though her eyes remain fixed on the Weyrlingmaster as he heads off. Distrustful? Amused? It's hard to tell what the emotion flickering in her eyes is. When he calls an end to the exercise, Ci steps away from her partner and gives her shoulders a quick rub, rolling them and then standing straight. L'ron and Balkrith's little tug-of-war gets her attention, and she shields a giggle behind a hand, trying to keep her attention on F'min and failing. She gets the gist of what the brown rider's saying, even if her gaze is on L'ron more than F'min. And then they're dismissed, thank goodness, because now Ci can let out a little laugh at the situation. Suosith patters over, practically rolling her eyes at Balkrith's behaviour. « Balkrith, do pay attention to the Weyrlingmaster! Your rider can't pay attention when you're - playing with him! »

Oh look, Balkrith's helping. Again. With the sack having been wrestled away from him he sets to watching as L'ron finally gets down to the business of curls and overhead lifts with the rock, the blue someone manages to find another rock lying about and promptly drops it square onto his lifemate's back right as the blue weyrling's face approaches the ground during a push-up. Which of course has him face planting in the dirt. "Balkrith!" comes muffled out against the sand. And thus it is with great gratitude that he greets the call to the end of the lesson. Standing to his feet, face covered in sand, he valiantly tries to dust himself off before giving a less than sterling salute to F'min as he departs. Balkrith sits back on his haunches and turns -one of those not-a-care-in-the-world looks up to the bigger Suosith « I'm not playing. I'm helping! » he gives with a little sniff.

Ciara bites her lip hard when Balkrith dumps a rock on L'ron's back. She's out of there, if they're allowed to go. Things to do, after all - and Suosith is nudging subtly at her rider's hand. "C'mon then Suosith, let's go and get you that oiling." The words are low, but the explanation is at least given publicly before the weyrling and her gold head off towards the barracks.

Closing Credits Theme Song: Pink Floyd - "The Wall"

If I missed any Dragonspeak poses or missed something else IC that should be in this log, please feel free to add it in.

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