Logs:Bounces
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| RL Date: 7 November, 2008 |
| Who: C'mryn, K'del |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: A meeting between mentor and mentee. |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 2, Month 2, Turn 18 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Milani/Mentions |
| Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr The rest of the bowl may be barren, grass barely surviving at best, but here by the lake, it's brilliantly green in the warmer months: thickening and thriving in the silty, boulder-dotted soil just before it transitions to soft sand and thence to the cool, clear water itself. A large freshwater lake fed by a low waterfall, it not only provides warm-weather bathing space for humans and dragons, but has one end fenced off as a watering hole for the livestock in the feeding grounds. The water there is often muddier than the rest of the clear lake, whose shallows drop off abruptly several yards out into deep water, and whose edge undulates against the coarse-hewn bowl wall: here close enough to just be bramble-covered rocks, there far enough away that a narrow land bridge divides the main lake from a smallish pond. Between are several rocky outcroppings that form excellent makeshift diving points, though only one -- across the bridge -- has a set of narrow, slippery, quite possibly tempting stairs. Thin, wintry sun, though with maybe a little warmth than it held only sevendays ago, bathes the afternoon in dull light, filtering in through patchy clouds above. Down by the lake, K'del is perching on the slippery stairs leading up to the Diving Cliff, watching, with muted expression, Cadejoth, as he explores the water's edge from the bowl end of the lake, nosing at this and that as he darts this way and that. Tausreth comes walking towards the lake, long strides making him appear as comfortable and fluid on the ground as the large bronze is in the air. C'mryn's opted for laziness, and sits perched on his dragon's neck, sans straps, lounging back between the great muscles of Tausreth's wings. He's talking, but the distance keeps the subject a mystery. A wing is flexed briefly, Tausreth's head turns back to regard C'mryn briefly before swinging back around towards the beach. A hearty greeting is given to the weyrling Cadejolth, and Cam sits up a bit straighter. Cadejoth greets Tausreth with enthusiasm, a light, tenor rumble that's joined with a mental touch - the clatter of excited chains, the sharing of an imagine that no doubt the older dragon can see with his own eyes: the ice is thinner, funny looking. Isn't that exciting? Kas' head raises from his dragon, as the greetings echo across the lake, though they rest only briefly upon his weyrlingmaster; he turns his head this way, then that, as if orientating himself - and then, he, too, sits up straighter. A muttered word, something likely a swear, and C'mryn is urging Tausreth down. The bronze crouches briefly, allows his rider to dismount and, as soon as Cam is safely on his own two feet, goes trotting towards Cadejoth and the lake edge. Funny ice is deserving of a closer look, and the bronze's attention goes towards the thin crust of ice first, and the weyrling dragon second. Exciting indeed, and Tausreth's amusement is both mental and physical, the bronze given another, though quieter, little rumble. "Good afternoon," calls Cam, hands shoved quickly into his pockets after a brief wave is given. "Weyrlingmaster," greets K'del, polite, inclining his head in a nod alongside the verbal greeting. He relaxes, as Cam shoves his hands into his pockets, stretching out his long legs down the steps (they cover quite a few of them), his toes pointed towards the ground in their heavy boots. "Sorry, in advance, if Cadejoth gets Tausreth all dirty. Know he does that anyway, but..." He breaks off, to shrug, and indicate the piles of dirty snow about. Some of these have already been inspected by the smaller bronze, who is already streaked with dirt, though for the moment, the ice has taken precedence. « K'del, » he says, curious, « says it's all going to melt into water. That true? » Seems so unlikely! "Weyrling," tosses back Cam, casual and a bit amused. He comes to a stop near the steps, attention towards the iced-over lake. "Nah, no need for that sort of thing. Tausreth does a plenty good job of getting dirty. I just let them have fun. It all washes off eventually." Eventually. He quirks a grin towards the pair of dragons briefly. Tausreth, of course, has his nose almost against the ice, his breath fogging up the glassy surface. A paw stretches out, touches, slowly puts weight down. There's a burst of amusement and a delighted sort of sound at the crack and creak of the ice beneath him. « It was water before, » he answers. « And it will be water again. C'mryn says it is solid because it is cold. The same way stew gets thick when it gets cold. » But no one's going to skate on stew. "Suppose it does," agrees the weyrling, though he adds: "It's just an awful lot to clean. Increasingly, I mean. Milani suggested I get some of the weyrbrats to help, since I end up having to clean him so much. Is that okay, or-- I wasn't sure if it was considered bad form, to get help." He folds his hands into his lap, tilting head up towards Cam as he speaks. Meanwhile, Cadejoth is jumping back, slightly, at the sound of the cracking. « You broke it! » He's more intrigued than upset, returning to look in close a moment later, curious and delighted. « I slid on the ice, » he adds, sharing an image - K'del's image - of himself doing this. « But not any more. It will be so much water! And it just sits there? » "Gets better," Cam says, attempting to be reassuring. It's hard to do when his own dragon is so very large. And so very filthy most of the time. "Nah, Millie's got the right idea. Just snag a couple over-eager 'brats with a lot of energy and put them to work. As long as Cadejoth doesn't mind, it's fine. You'll want to do the oiling yourself, though, if just to keep the mess to a minimum." A little tilt of his head. "Did you get fitted for your leathers yet?" Meanwhile, Tausreth is working a claw along one of the cracks, slowly poking through to the freezing, shallow water beneath. « Sliding is fun. C'mryn slid, » and next is an image of his rider, happily gliding along the ice before he trips, falls, and slides in an undignified heap for a few feet. The bronze lifts his head, regards the lake with intent scrutiny before he decides, « It does not just sit. It moves. It bounces. » K'del gives C'mryn a dubious look, as though he's really not sure /how/ it could get better. But he asks, instead, "Think Cadejoth'll get as big as Tausreth?" Of the weyrbrats, he adds, "Thanks. Do that, then. Should help. He likes being scratched by the kids," and his eyes roll, embarrassed, "But - nah. Oiling I can do myself, I guess." His head bobs, with obvious enthusiasm, about the leathers: "Yeah, did. Can't wait! Hadn't realised how much I'd grown - I mean, out, not up. Awesome." Cadejoth doesn't bother to restrain his laughter at this image of C'mryn, his head tilting up to allow him to look at the actual version of the bronzerider, for a moment. « It bounces? » incredulity. A grin. "Tausreth does, too. Turns into a pile of mush whenever someone offers to scratch his eyeridge. Or his chin. "Nothing like attending a Gather, meeting the Lord Holder, and having your dragon promptly demand an eyeridge scratch from his heir." A sigh. Cam tilts his head towards the dragons again and a careful assessment of Cadejoth is given. A little 'hm'. "Hard to tell. He certainly looks like he could fill out and bulk up. And his paws are huge, which might mean he'll grow into them? Tausreth was rather skinny as a weyrling too, long and lean before he got his height on him." Tausreth pauses in his manipulation of the ice, talon well within the crack by now. His head first swings towards Cam, a rumble of amused affection given, before he turns his attention back to more important matters. Like bouncing lakes. « It bounces, » he restates, though with much less conviction. So rather than explain with words, he offers an image from C'mryn's mind of the lake, surface choppy and moving from a stiff breeze. Just for flavor, he'll drop a couple firelizards into the picture, the tiny dots of color bouncing around like toy boats on the waves. "Faranth, really? So far, it's just been the kids, mostly, but..." K'del's eyes are wide; he looks more embarrassed than ever. "He's not, exactly, what I expected. He's perfect, but-- not what I expected," he concludes, lamely. "Really? It's not that it matters how big he ends up being, though it'd be nice if he wasn't quite so skinny. I'm just curious." Cadejoth accepts this image, as his own paw reaches down to poke at the lake, though he does note, « Is that really a bounce? More... like a jiggle. » He wiggles the mental-image waves, to illustrate. "Yeah," is Cam's not-so reassuring response. "He does. It was worse when he was younger, before I'd knocked some manners into his brain, but he's still overly friendly." A side-ways look to the weyrling and he smirks, adding, "Tausreth's not what I expected, either. Not in a bronze, at least. He certainly doesn't fit the grand and noble image the Harpers seem so fond of singing about. A bronze that becomes a lap-dog." He heaves a sign that is all sarcasm and teasing for his lifemate, though Tausreth is ignoring him. The bronze is giving considerable thought to his argument on the bouncing of the lake, eyes whirling merrily. « It bounces, » he decides at last, firmly. « Jiggling is... » a consideration, a delve into C'mryn's mind, and he offers the image of custard. « That jiggles. » K'del looks briefly pained, as if he's just now realised something more of what he's in for for the rest of his life - but he can't help it, and grins all the same. "Good to know it isn't just me. I thought I had it all worked out, but..." he shrugs, head shaking. "Cadejoth's a bit like a lap-dog, too. Or maybe a little, over-excitable working dog, you know? It's sweet, but sometimes, it drives me mad. Where's the dignity?" Cadejoth accepts that, perhaps, the lake does not quite joggle like custard, but he adds an image of a bouncing ball: « /That/ bounces. Your image of the lake is more... maybe it /rolls/? » There's another crack in the ice, as Cadejoth puts some small part of his weight onto his paw. Oooh. Squelch. "Dignity is not to be found among these dragons, nope," agrees C'mryn. "He might get better as he matures, and takes into consideration how the ladies might see him. Tausreth, at least, puts on a good face when a green or gold is around to see him. And I've convinced him a few times to behave and 'be boring' when outside of the Weyr. So, there's hope." Even if Cam's grin is wide, and his eyes are full of mischief. "What did you hope to Impress to, then? Something stuffy and solemn?" Tausreth has abandoned his crack in the ice, much more concerned of this argument he's in. There's mirth in his touch, and his eyes whirl gleefully. « Rolling... » and he twists his head this way and that, as if to mimic the motion. « Hmm. That may be the word for it. But it bounces, too. It bounces the things that are in or on the water. » "Maybe," agrees K'del, but it's pretty plain that he's not sure he really believes that this will be the case. "Does impressing the greens and golds actually make a difference, then? I thought it was more... skill. You know, which dragon manages to catch her?" He's actually quite serious with this question, his eyebrows raised, lips pursed in thought. "Oh, I don't know. A bronze. Just didn't think too hard about what he might be like. Cadejoth wasn't-- didn't really fit in to any of my vague thoughts. I thought bronzes were dignified. I was wrong." « Does it? I haven't really seen this. The water goes splash, and parts for me, when K'del bathes me. Maybe it can do both. » He's not keen on arguing, Cadejoth - more on wobbling the bit of ice in front of him, feeling it move with the unfrozen water beneath. "Eh, not sure," says Cam with a shrug. "For Tausreth, he's interested in both the chase, and just female company. He's a flirt, that one," and he bobs his head towards his bronze, who's giving the lake a thorough looking-over. "For greens, it's more a matter of being first to snag her. But they're sneaky, twisty, the like to spin and spiral and Tausreth just can't keep up. Not that he doesn't try. His wins are more luck with greens, than skill or preference. The golds, though..." and he lets out a low whistle. "Those ones more often than not pick their own mates. Darn hard to out fly a gold, and it's a very calculating bronze who can out-think her, or surprise her in the air. So maybe flirting and impressing the golds has an advantage to winning them. But I wouldn't know. Never asked." He grins wide and shakes his head. "Think it has more to do with the differences in personality than color. Look at Xatolaeth and his finicky-ness with water and mud. And there's Yyth, who seems more happy bathed in blood than oil." Tausreth clearly considers himself the winner, though his mild boasting is lighthearted in nature. He can't help being a little smug, though. A thought, and he bends his head towards the ice. « Lick it, » he offers. "I wonder if Cadejoth will be," muses K'del, glancing again towards his lifemate, thought lines pressed into service upon his forehead. "I got the impression he already told Iovniath that he wants to catch her, but I think that may have had something to do with me; he's too young to really understand all of that, right? Suppose none of it really matters, yet. Not for a while." His lips purse slightly, then break into a grin at mention of his clutchmates. "True, true. Xatolaeth's so-- fussy. And Yyth... And then there's Kelerith. And Uanth, with all of his stories." Cadejoth is already distracted by the lake again, too distracted to care about winners or losers. « Lick it? » he repeats. « What for? » "Might. Might not. Won't know till later." And C'mryn bobs his head accordingly as he says, "No, he's far too young for that sort of thing. I don't know the context, but maybe he meant catch like a game? Before Tausreth could understand mating flights, he often though they were games of tag. It was rather embarrassing, especially when he demanded that it was his turn to be chased." A roll of his shoulders, and C'mryn glances upwards. "A good idea," he muses to himself at some unheard thought or remark. "Time to go. Apparently, I'm needed." Tausreth just looks amused. « Why not? » is his counter and, for good measure, he gives the lake-ice a good, long lick with his tongue before turning and trotting towards C'mryn. « It's cold. And funny. » K'del's smile twitches, visibly. "Really? Huh. It's all right," he adds. "I'm not, like, perverting my baby dragon, I promise." He pauses, then bobbing his head: "Thanks for the chat, C'mryn." Cadejoth, aware of losing his partner in crime, gives Tausreth a long look, and then follows suit. « Ooh, refreshing! » he declares, before giving it /another/ long lick. K'del just shakes his head. Dragons! |
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