Logs:Help
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| RL Date: 16 November, 2008 |
| Who: K'del, Leova |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Cadejoth has been landing stiff-legged. (So has K'del.) Vrianth helps him with that. (So does Leova.) |
| Where: Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 3, Turn 18 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Nakasha/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. Weyrling pairs disperse once formation drills conclude, but Vrianth's set a spark before Cadejoth the way she does when she wants attention. Or, a particular kind of attention. There. By the lake. Where her rider waits. Follow the trail. Cadejoth's head lifts, like he's sniffing the air, physically looking for the spark although his mind has already latched onto it, returned a beat of eager acquiescence. He launches into a loping gait for the lake, leaving K'del no choice but to jog after him, surprised, his expression intent. As they approach, the bronze slides to a halt, tail swinging, and Kas pauses, head tipped to the side, considering Leova. "Assistant Weyrlingmaster?" And as he finds the goal she's set, Vrianth's touch flares with the warmth of praise, of appreciation for his acquiescence. Enough to make up for the cool wind from above that marks her descent? Up to him. And she's circling, still, as her rider greets, "K'del. Cadejoth. Landings pretty bumpy still, hm? Think we can help you with that." Leova's stance is easy, confident and calm, demeanor more congenial than when she'd been more silently shadowing their weyrlingmaster quite a few days past. More than enough: Cadejoth /leans/ in to the praise, ignores entirely the winds, though K'del pulls his jacket tighter, glancing up to see Vrianth, then back at Leova. "Oh," he says, looking - disappointed? Slightly embarrassed, too. "Been working on it. Practicing, heaps. It's just--" He breaks off, to shrug, eyes sliding back towards Cadejoth, who is watching Vrianth's circles with more interest than the exchange between riders, his tail still thumping at the ground. Kas takes a deep breath, gives in. "Haven't got it yet. Help'd be good." Her easy circles alternately shade them and give them up to afternoon sunlight, smooth and regular as though she could stay up there all day, with a trace of let's-call-it-positive-reinforcement for Cadejoth there. When K'del looks up, Leova can't help but do likewise, though she's still gazing, admiring, when he turns back to his bronze. It's been three and a half Turns, and it's still that way between them. Likely still will when it's thirty. But. Business. Levelly, eyes returning to the weyrling pair, "All right, then." And she smiles. "Jump up and down for me, please, K'del. Three times." Long pause from the young man, whose eyebrows are disappearing into his hairline again from being raised so high. "Jump up and down?" He repeats, frowning, again his gaze shifting - Leova, then Cadejoth who, of course, knows no better, then Vrianth, no use again, and then, finally, looking exceedingly awkward - only partially thanks to his height - he does as asked. One. Two. Three. Belatedly, he glances around again: anyone looking? No? No. Good. Cadejoth rumbles, amused, and performs a little hop: he can do that, too! Leova just watches him, patiently, as she might have done a particularly restive colt in some former life. Waits. All that looking-around turns up one corner of her mouth, just a bit, but when he complies all she does is nod. No laughter. Although then she does note, half as afterthought, "The traditional response is, /how high/," and that smile deepens just a bit. More importantly though, says the inflection of her voice as she goes on, "When we went flying, that time. And then when we landed. If you had jumped down from Vrianth the way you did just now, how well do you think that would have worked? Tried jumping down from a hayloft, anything like that? How did that feel." Rueful, but clearly by some measure, amused, Kas parts his lips into a half smile. "Didn't know it was an order. I'll try harder, next time." But: more importantly, and with this, his expression intensifies, more serious, more determined. "Probably not well," he registers, thinking out loud. "Haven't jumped from a hayloft or anything, but - from Vrianth. Guess maybe you'd land too heavily." And he gets a nod for it, too, a likewise-amused, "Won't remind you." Leova watches the weyrling. Watches him think it through. And in the end, "Yes. For example. Cadejoth," and she says his name with a fond timbre that doesn't at all take away from that pay-attention note. Which Vrianth reinforces with a hint, just a hint of excitement, even as she wings higher to perch on a ledge not far beyond them and peer, head snaking down on that long neck of hers. Maybe that will be less distracting? Another long look for K'del, assessing, and then Leova's back to his dragon again: "Think Cadejoth's built up enough that if he crouched some, you could get partway up his neck. And jump down. Like to do that?" That much closer to riding. At the sound of his name, and Vrianth's reinforcement, Cadejoth cranes his neck upwards, not stilling the continuous motion he is in, but channelling it, eager to be involved in this, whatever 'this' is. Kas has a fond smile for his dragon, but he has taken heed of the note in Leova's voice, and watches her as she assesses him, eyebrows raised again. What is it she's looking for? At her question, his eyes light, the only hint of excitement he allows himself to show, as he turns to Cadejoth, making a great show of deliberating. Does he think so? Does he ever. "Reckon," he concludes, in a measured tone, more laid back than he must surely feel, "that'd be okay. Still skinny, but he's strong." "Wouldn't want him to overdo, put things off," Leova agrees in much the same tone, like they're both putting on a show for some invisible audience, for all that there's truth there too. "But just getting up. Jumping back down. With an assistant weyrlingmaster right here and all," as opposed to running off and doing it on their own. "Why don't you give it a go, then. Be in his head, so you can feel if you're bothering him." And then her brows tick up a come-to-think-of-it notch, could be challenge if it weren't as light as it is, "Need a lift?" "No, definitely not," avers K'del, stressing each word. No overdoing it. But. "Think that should be fine," he continues, agreeing. "Since you're here, and okaying it, and all." His nod, a sharp, short affair, marks his response to the rest of her instructions - but not the question, to which he says, quite calmly, "No, I think I can manage, thank you." Far too grown up and dignified for that, thank you. He approaches Cadejoth not warily, but slowly nonetheless, lifting his hand towards the bronze not as one might to a dangerous animal, but in a soothing motion all the same, encouraging him, wordlessly, to stay still. This is no easy task for Cadejoth, whose excitement makes his constant motion more constant than ever, but he tries, he really, really, really tries, and it's enough. Again, K'del looks awkward, as he tries to find his footing, works out how best to pull himself up, but he manages. For the sounds made, both mental and physical, by Cadejoth, it is no bother at all: sheer excitement, delight. And then, far more quickly than he made it up, K'del - reluctantly, ever so reluctantly - jumps down again. This time, with knees bent. If Leova's far less dignified in her head, only Vrianth notices, the greenrider's returned nod calm as his: all right, then. She'll (they'll) see him (them) prove it. Confidence, or the show of it, might also be in how Leova keeps that slight distance from the excited dragon, not standing down below to easily catch his rider should he fall. Vrianth's observing as closely, though more overt about sending a warm curl of reinforcement for that /really trying/, drinking in Cadejoth's delight at success and returning it charged. There. Where he should be. When K'del lands, "/There/ you go." With a pause in case it's needed to collect himself inside or out, "Don't know if you noticed, but you bent your knees, so you weren't as stiff. Softened the landing. Cadejoth needs to do that, too." From Cadejoth's triumph, that pure note of pleasure he sends once K'del is safely upon the ground again, you'd be forgiven to think that it was all his doing, his success. But despite himself, Kas looks no less delighted, pulling his hand from his glove so as to press it against warm hide, pleased and proud, and nodding madly all the while. "Yeah I did," he admits, unable to keep his happiness from his voice. "It was - not quite instinct, 'cause I had to remind myself, but it felt right, anyway. You hear that, Cadejoth?" He turns to face his dragon, now, speaking out loud. "Knees /bent/." /Vrianth/ might be inclined to agree with Cadejoth, and Leova, well, she's not arguing: hard enough to control her smile at the pair of them from becoming a grin. "All right, then. Couple others landing stiff like that, nervous maybe, but this should be easier on his joints. Won't jam himself nearly as easily. That sort of thing. Now, Cadejoth?" Again that shift in tone, talking-to-dragon. "Watch Vrianth, please," Vrianth who's already back into flight, gliding overhead, descending so slow and controlled instead of her usual zip so it's easier to see, heading for a light backwinged-balanced landing. Her weight shifts. Her legs flex. Cushioned. He can feel it from her, if he's listening. /Landed/ and stable and already sweeping her neck around. "Give your rider some room, go for that clear space, and /you/ try it. K'del? See if you can remind him at the right time." Cadejoth /can/ feel it, soaking himself in to each step of the process, though you'd hardly know it from the way he continues to prance about, his tail swinging, his neck stretched out with head bobbing back and forth. Kas' expression has cooled somewhat, triumph fading for his more usual impassiveness, though he watches as closely as his dragon, eyes narrowing as he considers Vrianth. He nods, at Leova's remark, turning his head to face her as he does so, at much the same time that Cadejoth hurtles himself off towards that noted-upon clear space, to make his attempt. He waits until K'del is looking at him again, though, rumbles to his rider, then leaps. His glide lacks precision, but his landing, as K'del squeezes his eyes shut, wobbling, then steadying himself, is better. Not perfect, with the flex of his knees coming slightly later than intended, resulting in a bit of a thump, but better. "Better," Leova allows, the least experienced of I'daur's assistants at least having Vrianth to assist her. Assuming she isn't just the one assisting /Vrianth/, who had been listening to Cadejoth quite as closely as he'd been listening to her, right through that landing. "Notice that, about the timing? Adjust a little sooner." A sideways look at the other pair, "Practicing a few more times right now, a handful maybe, will help his body remember. But." A wave towards the barracks, to the more distant living caverns, draws more attention to their clutchmates' departure. "If you have more important things to get to, such as polishing your boots..." They watch the younger pair steadily. K'del's eyes flutter open again, his feet once again steady on the ground, and he nods. "But not perfect. Mm, did. Wasn't sure about the timing, but I bet we'll get it next time." Despite the thump of his landing, Cadejoth seems pretty pleased with himself, strutting, as he makes his way closer to the riders again, though not too close. Kas considers Leova's words, glancing around after his clutchmates, heading for the warmth of indoors, his own breath visible in the chill, but shakes his head. "Need to get this right. More important than--" he grins, amused. "Well polished boots. I reckon, anyway. But I bet we could manage from here, if you - and Vrianth - have other things to do." Behind and above Leova, Vrianth turns her gaze on still-smaller Cadejoth as he nears, the younger dragon only just over half her length. For now. Her tail curves in a wide sweep over the ground, confirming the territory. "Better than the boots," Leova meanwhile acknowledges, allowing herself and him a smile for K'del's having caught it. "Least, I'd have thought so... Here: we'll watch you a time or two more and then be off. Don't be surprised if he's a little more tired tonight, a little hungrier tomorrow, hm? All those takeoffs, bound to build up his haunches." Cadejoth stays back - but then, for the best, since now he turns, tail sweeping snow out of the way, to push himself into the air again. It's done before K'del has time to quite realise, jolting the young man, whose lips go tight. "Much better," he says, and then it's over, and Cadejoth is on the ground again, this time managing to get the timing just right, his landing firm, solid. "I can feel his muscles," he reports, recovered now, and smiling. "But only in a good way. Not sore, or anything. It'll be good. He could use some building up." It's solid enough that Vrianth backs up just enough to leap right over their heads, a couple wingbeats sending her just past and to one side of Cadejoth to land in her turn: a game that she doesn't explain, but that her expectant over-the-wing look encourages. "Good to hear," her rider replies to his, eyes still on the dragons. "How's everything else going?" Boots. Clutchmates. Weather. Whatever. A game? But Cadejoth loves games! Whether he grasps the concept of the game or not remains to be seen: his response is to take to the air again, glide as high as he can without wingbeats, and land on the other side of the green. Kas stiffens, but doesn't unbalance, this time. "Oh. Fine. You know. Working hard. Looking forward to spring. And proper flying. And--" Freedom, but he doesn't say it. "Maybe my sister is going to come and visit. I asked. Parents have responded yet, but I hope so." Vrianth watches his takeoff with interest, but as she realizes his trajectory... she flattens to the mud, wings tight to her back. Only after Cadejoth lands safely, more to the point safely for /her/, does the green rise: Leova's going to have some washing to do, later on. Speaking of which, "When you get to proper flying, there's a hot springs nearby. Most of us riders go." Vrianth meanwhile is arcing a line of energy for Cadejoth to see: just leap straight. For now. Parallel lines. Leapfrog! She jumps-glides-lands-waits, looking back over her shoulder even as her rider gives his a sidelong look. "Let her risk a Weyr, that den of wickedness and corruption? Trust you checked with Hay... with the headwoman first." Her tone is mild for all those words, just a twinge to her faint smile. Cadejoth is far too amused, never mind the extra work he's caused for Leova, at this game, but his silent trill is one of understanding: ah, gotcha. "Oh? I wondered. That'll be good, then. More reasons to look forward to it." Cadejoth rumbles, as Vrianth looks back over at him, and hurtles himself into the air again, this time following the parallel line, keeping clear of the green, his landing, once again, much firmer. "That's why they might say no," Kas grins back at Leova, his lips quirking just slightly at mention of the Headwoman. Pleased. "Haven't, yet. Not officially. Want to see if they're willing before I do." "Not that the pools in the infirmary are /bad/, just..." Leova lifts a shoulder, lets it fall, gets distracted: Vrianth over there, taking off before Cadejoth's fully landed with a flick of her tail: can he do it again, but /faster/? The greenrider clears her throat, cutting off what had become a reminiscent sigh, and then shakes her head to seal it. "Not officially. I /see/. Favorite sister?" "Just not as good," concludes K'del, confident, despite never having seen these other pools. Cadejoth can, he can, he can! He leaps - honestly, his take-offs look hair raising, all that energy shoving him into the air - and soars, and lands with a satisfying, if light, thump, a distance away. Faster, this time, though he still sticks his landing. Kas' gaze falls back to the dragons, a fond expression on his face, even as he answers Leova. "Mm. Suppose. Only have two, and the other is much older. Kash - she's the closest in age to me. Fourteen, now. Miss her. Think my parents will worry about her not wanting to leave here, though, if she comes." And again Vrianth takes off teasing-quick, warbling this time, just as his paws touch ground so he won't be ahead for long: landing is one thing, but the resiliency to recover and do it again quickly, does he have that too? "But not protective that way yourself," Leova speculates, looking back at K'del for a minute. "Might have to work at it, to get her exciting stories to bring back to the Hold." Not quite. Cadejoth instantly tries to leap into action again, but he falters, and has to take a moment to reposition himself before launching himself back into the air. Next time, his rumble says. Next time! "Not really," K'del admits, with a grin. "Think she'll have a ball, here, but she'll go home again. For now. Don't know if she'll really want to stay there forever, though. Can't see her doing the marriage thing, even if that's what they want for her." His head inclines towards her last words: yes, good idea. Of course next time! Though there's a shift of muscle along Vrianth's haunches, like she'd jump fast anyway, in the end she does wait a little longer this time: make it a more even pattern, maybe easier that way if he can predict such things. A /little/ longer. Her rider's tone isn't the easiest to read, looking back at K'del: "Not marriage. Why?" Cadejoth almost manages to get a rhythm in this, this time, hitting the ground and trying to push off in almost the same moment, something that is half-way effective: he makes it into the air this time, but doesn't travel quite so far with this glide. Still. "Can't see her settling down, is all. Likes flirting as much as I do, my sister. Impatient, too. Hates being stuck doing housework with my mother." Kas shrugs, staring out at the dragons. "But maybe she'll grow out of that. Maybe." And just as Vrianth /could/ have jumped more quickly before, now she /could/ glide just as far as she had before, but in the end chooses an arc that will still let Cadejoth pass her in his next if he keeps up to par. Leova's eyes have narrowed. She says, "People wind up having to learn patience about anywhere. But. Heard there's plenty of what she wants in the Halls, even though it's not as much as here. And if she's impatient, apprenticeship's even longer than," and there's barely a break before her, "Think that's enough." Vrianth's head swings over, her wings flare, momentarily impatience incarnate: it's /fun/. But she doesn't leap again. Cadejoth takes his last leap just before Leova makes her edict, not having managed to repeat his efforts at leaping so quickly. He makes the most of the last one, gliding further, passing Vrianth, and not giving in to the temptation to go further still with a beat of his wings - he's being good. "True," allows K'del, with force: patience, sometime he's beginning to deal with. "Apprenticeship might be an idea. Hadn't thought of it. Maybe, if she comes, I'll introduce her to Madilla. Or one of the other apprentices." He inclines his head into a nod, glancing back at Cadejoth, who has begun to pad back. Some of the spring has gone from his step; he must be getting tired. Vrianth is not being quite as good. Rather than walk back with the weyrling, she noses at him and then takes flight, proper flight, in a series of truncated wingbeats that get her high enough to glide the whole rest of the way. And a little further. So her rider will have to walk to catch up. Leova doesn't seem particularly fussed about it, though, not breaking off their conversation immediately: K'del's vehemence got a hint of a smile, and now, "Don't sound like the same sort as Madilla, but reckon they might get on for all that. If she's not too... impatient," that much more humor on the repeated word. As she starts checking the buckle of her gloves, readying for flight, she adds with a nod Cadejoth's way, "Think someone might sleep well tonight." "No, guess they're pretty different. But. Might give her ideas, maybe. Something to do that isn't marriage." Kas looks amused for the repetition of 'impatience', wry, and maybe understanding, too. Cadejoth lifts his head to watch Vrianth, a stream of - not envy, but awe, and great interest - extending from him as she goes, and perhaps even the sense that he is taking notes, for future reference. "Reckon he will," laughs his rider. "Though: he pretty much always does. Just... collapses, then sleeps for hours." He digs his hands deeper into his pockets, relaxed, now, his tone light and easy. Such interest is just what Vrianth responds to, and if she had put on a greater show for Cadejoth to sense, stayed longer in the air for the sake of that future reference (and the admiration!), at least she's also trained her Leova not to roll her eyes. This time. There's just a dry chuckle for something-that's-not-marriage, a note of, "Wouldn't wish the stables on just any girl either." And later, "He does that. Vrianth was never that way. But maybe sooner, then." Her gaze flicks over them both, her hand lifts to wave... and then all of a sudden she's suddenly digging into /her/ pockets, first the right, then the left. "Reminds me! Here. Catch." A little jar's heading his way, about the size of his curled thumb. Delight and awe, delight and awe. Cadejoth bounds ahead, to find the best position from which to watch the green, letting out a low rumble as he does so, which draws K'del's gaze, briefly, along with an amused twist of the lips. "No, probably not," he agrees, of the stables. "Mm," he agrees, about to add something else, but pauses, to catch the jar and glance at it. "What's this?" Seeing him catch it, Leova's already backing up, the better to get a jump on meeting Vrianth. But his question pauses her long enough to run a finger along the line of her mouth as illustration: "Noticed awhile back, kept forgetting: looked chapped. Put that on, especially when it gets dry, hm? And /don't/ /pick/ at it." K'del looks surprised, glancing from the little jar, then back up to Leova. His hand lifts towards his lip, touching, but not more than that. "Thanks," he says, sounding, by now, pleased, his head bobbing. "And for the lesson, too. Helped." One more bob, just one. And a smile. "Welcome," says Leova with a crisp nod, letting it stand for both, though she adds a returning smile to soften it before she swings around and heads at a brisker pace for her dragon. Who's fussing by now. Mud! Flaky mud! Itchy mud! Vrianth's only partly mollified by her rider actually swinging up, but at least she spares Cadejoth a warble, even shares some of that same current of this-is-how-it's-done /flight/ as she takes wing and disappears into the evening. But with it? /Itch/. Cadejoth returns the warble, his deeper than hers, but fluted at the end. Then, after a moment during which Kas watches them go, the weyrling pair turn to head back towards the weyrling barracks - time for sleep. |
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