Logs:Babies and Bargains
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| RL Date: 29 June, 2015 |
| Who: Celestra, Dee, I'dro, Eliyaveith, Nasmaeth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Nasmaeth and Taeliyth and Eliyaveith want different things. Some are more successful than others in getting them from I'dro, Celestra and Dee |
| Where: Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 2, Turn 38 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Clear as a bell, the sun shines in pale winter skies, though an occasional sharp breeze blows. |
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>---< Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr(#675RJLs$) >----------------------------------<
This end of the Bowl is grassy and serene, the sparkling blue beyond the
Lake Shore a draw for residents, riders, and dragons alike. An earthslide
has revealed a dramatic view of the mountain slopes beyond the circle of
the Weyr, past the lake, where a faint misty haze often shimmers above the
small Bowl Falls. The Feeding Grounds are fenced off to on the
northeastern end of the lake, just a short walk from the weyrling
barracks, the hot springs, and infirmary.
Clear as a bell, the sun shines in pale winter skies, though an occasional
sharp breeze blows. Given the youth of the dragons, the time that would be lunch for many weyrfolk and the hours that follow are more loosely structured than other hours in the weyrlings' day to accommodate the unpredictable needs of the young. It seems that today, despite the relative cold, Taeliyth's need is to be out in the bowl under the sunny sky, observing the snow yet lingering from previous falls in its various stages of melting. She's absorbed in this process, long slender tail switching back and forth as if to mark the passage of time as she watches. She's heedless of the way her lifemate stands off some short distance away, arms folded over her double sweatered chest shivering despite the hat, scarf and other winter gear looking cold, uncomfortable but resolute. Despite her rider's exchange of knots, there is little that needs change in Eliyaveith's daily schedule. Yet, it has in the days of the hatching. She has taken to claiming the empty junior ledge that overlooks the weyrlings' barracks, to be closer to the young dragons. If she could sleep with them-- But she can't, and so she watches when she can. Right now, her attention is focused on her daughter, yet she doesn't interrupt even to reach out to her mentally. Given the youth of the dragons, their newly-minted riders are probably supposed to be doing something sensible like waiting until their new charges are drowsing before going off to feed themselves. Not, just to give an example, wandering off for the caverns with a dragon situated like some combination of firelizard and woolen scarf about their neck and shoulders. Upon I'dro's return trip, she does actually seem to have found a way to drift off that way, head nestled against the collar of his coat, claws digging in. And he's paying this almost no mind. He draws up to Dee with his hands in his pockets. "You'd think they don't feel it or something. The cold." For anyone that knows, they may find it odd that a certain Harper is not within, confined by the walls of the Records Room in which she is usually found. Not warm, by any means, but much warmer than the biting winter air of the outdoors. But so Celestra is found a-wandering, relatively well-bundled with a scarf wrapped around her neck, obscuring half of her face as she makes her way through the bowl, steps slow with no particular destination in mind. At the sight of the weyrlings and their dragonets, the Harper pauses. There's a pad in hand, and some charcoal that she pulls out from a deep pocket. A singular page is flipped and the charcoal finds its place on the surface, Celestra's blue eyes darting from the dragonets to her page as her hand moves across the page. Dee's practical, "It's probably the hi-" answer to I'dro gets broken off as her lifemate jerks upright, eyes whirling fast and suddenly, actively displeased. Her bejeweled gaze? It sits squarely on Celestra and her charcoal and pad. Dee, without thinking, reaches for I'dro's forearm, not even looking as she does; it's an instinctive bracing motion as fear slips across her features in the moment before the tiny gold is making an aggressive stalk toward the harper. "Can you--" help, I'dro? Can she? Her eyes go to the ledge where Can he? Well, I'dro can do a lot of things. Si se puede. But, in this case, what? Shoo off a young queen like a misbehaving chicken? Would he even know how to handle a misbehaving chicken? What he can do: Stand there frowning like an idiot. "They're not supposed to be hunting, yet, or we wouldn't have to do all the arranging for food for them." This is probably not helping. But raising his voice or rushing to the rescue? Well, it might wake Nasmaeth. Clearly, he's attempting to avoid this possibility. Worry whirls at Eliyaveith's eyes at both her children. At Taeliyth's aggressive stalk and Nasmaeth's perch there. Who knows what exactly crosses the queen's mind at Nasmaeth being on the greenrider's shoulders, but still she croons softly towards her green daughter, first. A tell-tale outline of the young gold begins to form on the page's yellow-tinted surface, the black lines mimicing the delicate curves of her tail, curled halfway, leading up to ridges of her back. More and more black lines form, Celestra's blue gaze only occasionaly flickering to the young dragonet. Until the last in which surprise flashes through her gaze at the sudden stalk toward herself. Her hand pauses, worry furrowing her brow. Her glance darts to the gold's lifemate, seeing the fear there. Every part of her said running would be bad, but how was she to react? The Harper's experience with dragons, much less dragons, was much too limited. So instead, her motions are paused, hardly daring to breathe, with half a mind to run at the first sign to do so. Taeliyth's attention flickers briefly toward her dam at the sound, but it's not for her, so she's back on the war path. "I-- she's not--" Dee looks briefly like she's going to be sick, so it's probably for the best that she steps away from I'dro (since it means no sicking up on him). She breaks into a run to follow her lifemate. Her lifemate doesn't go for the kill, but rather sits back and then leans her head up, neck going to full extension to peer at the paper before leveling angry eyes at the harper. Dee stops some feet behind the gold when her tail lashes the ground testily, possibly afraid of the tiny thing herself. "She doesn't want you to do that," is a blurt. That lets I'dro amble along afterwards like nothing could possibly be wrong with any of this. But one thing that is not being wrong: He has managed not to wake the carefully-draped green. Like mothers are always wont to do, that's soon spoiled. She wakes enough to shake her head briskly, only just barely missing whacking her rider in the side of his by a fingertip. She might not glower at the queen, but that doesn't mean her rider can't, however briefly, before he's distracted by petting and an entirely silent quantity of reassurance. But then he's looking up after Dee and Taeliyth. "Apparently," drily, "nobody around here is allowed to have hobbies." That queen can glower right back, her whirling gaze focused pointedly on I'dro for a moment. But luckily, he is reprieved from Eliyaveith's further attentions by the little gold's obvious upset, though this she only watches silently, waiting. The sight of the gold's lifemate running does cause some alarm, something akin to a flash of panic coursing through Celestra's mind. When there's a pause, with no indication that the little gold is going to cause any harm, the Harper relaxes visibly, the tension flowing out of her body. At first, there's simply the thought that this little dragonet is curious, as is evident by the sinous stretch of her neck to peer at Celestra's pad. Blue-eyed gaze drifts from the gold and her lashing tail to Dee at the blurted phrase. "She doesn't want to be drawn?" The question is more surprise than anything, gaze drifting towarads I'dro momentarily at his approach, followed by a twitch at the corner of her lips at his comment. "No," is for Celestra, certain, but followed by a second, far less certain, "no?" as Taeliyth tips her chin just slightly to catch her lifemate in that annoyed look. The third, "No," is for I'dro, but it's confused. "I'm-- why do you want me to learn to draw?" is directed back to her dragon. "Does your dragon want you to learn how to draw?" She asks, slightly flabbergasted at the green weyrling, even as the tiny gold bares her teeth just slightly, perhaps to keep the harper from getting too comfortable. Are you watching, Mom? Of course she is watching; she is always watching is the implication of the warmth that solidifies against the young gold's mind, filled with a pride that even Eliyaveith can't temper for her young daughter. Still, she cautions, « Be gentle. Be kind. » (To Taeliyth from Eliyaveith) There's a pause, here, after the question, like I'dro has taken a moment to even register that it's being asked of him. Then he twists his head to actually sort of get a look at the green in question. Then: "So far today, she's wanted a lot of things, including my pillow and half my lunch, but I don't think drawing has been on the agenda. Which is good. I tried it, once, when I was younger, and I'm afraid I'm never getting past stick figures." Faint smile for Celestra, with that. Nasmaeth has not entirely settled again, and she's still weighty enough that her constant readjusting of limbs requires some effort on his part to keep her where she is. A tangle of disordered brambles writhe and seethe within the young gold's mind, though don't seek to shut her dam out. « She should have asked permission. » It warrants baring her teeth is the implication. (To Eliyaveith from Taeliyth) It is only the warmth of sun that licks against those brambles, much gentler against the young gold's mind than Eliyaveith's usual flames. « Yes, » she agrees, patiently. « But they do not often do what is right or honorable or just. And we must rise above it. » (To Taeliyth from Eliyaveith) "No?" Celestra's lilting soprano echoes at the goldrider's uncertain tone, blue eyes flashing to the gold dragonet. The confusion in her eyes is quite apparent to the Harper, though unable to hear the conversation between dragon and rider. When the question is directed to I'dro, her attention shifts to the greenrider. The slight frown that had formed at Dee's uncertain reply changes into a light smile in return for I'dro's. "Well... I won't draw her if she doesn't want me to... She's such a pretty thing, I couldn't help it. Been wanting to since the hatching, to be honest." The gold dragonet in question is observed for another second before she goes back to the werylings. "I'm Celestra, by the way, Journeyman Harper." I'dro's answer makes Dee frown. "Those are all-- well, mostly reasonable things," she decides, though she doesn't specify which of the requests Nasmaeth has made might not be so reasonable. Looking to the dragon and then the harper. "She..." Dee's cheeks are abruptly colored with embarrassment. "She says she'll give you her permission, Journeywoman," Dee stresses the title slightly for Taeliyth's benefit (who sniffs dismissively), "if you'll agree to teach me to draw. Since I-- apparently need to." Perhaps giving in to some of her dragons more innocuous requests was recommended to address on-going issues. Dee doesn't sound thrilled by this turn of events, but at least her dragon isn't baring her teeth anymore. "Mostly, ah, yes." I'dro is more than a little distracted by this point, and with one arm gives a wave off in the direction of the barracks. "Going to head back, since I don't think anybody's going to be mortally wounded by drawing." Dee gets a smile, but Celestra gets more of one: "I'dro. Sure I'll see you around soon enough when things settle a bit." Then he's off to make more comfortable arrangements, or at least arrangements that don't put his coat in such danger of getting completely shredded if she doesn't hold still. As one of her daughters is taken away and the other distracted by the Harper, the queen on the ledge high above stretches to her feet without another noise. And then she disappears into the shadows, her dark form blending there. Celestra's gaze shifts to the dragonet once more before flickering to Dee, a wider smile offered at the request and permission. "I do believe that would be something I can manage." The Harper replies, eyes glinting with a hint of amusement, though definitely not at the goldrider's expense but more so for the situation at hand. At I'dro's departure, she offers a slight dip of her chin, gaze only lingering momentarily at his departing figure before turning back to Dee. "I'm sure you'll be busy with your training... but when you've the free time, feel free to seek me out. I'm usually in the Records Room." The charcoal in her hand is pocketing, notepad flipped closed and tucked under her arm as she peers at the gold. After obtaining the goldrider's name: "I shall take my leave for now." Another dip of her chin towards both rider and dragonet before the Harper pivots on one heel and returns inside where it is warmer. |
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