Difference between revisions of "Logs:Chivalry"

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake. At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space. Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor.

L'sha trudges out of the barracks into the bowl to give Rillaeth some fresh air and a chance to stretch her legs and wings. He quickly fastens his heavy wherhide jacket to provide more protection against the cold. Rillaeth bounds around behind him to find where the snow is shallowest. Not the biggest fan of snow, she. Ghena has been up since before dawn by the look of the dark circles under her eyes and the unkempt shock of hair which was likely the only battle she had won with her lifemate. The little blue for his part is already actively charging at his first quest of the day, clearing a spot for the green. Chivalry ain't dead after all. "Aye L'sha." The girl offers as she watches her life mate dig out the snow.

The valiant call of trumpets and the snap of banners in the wind reaches out. « Good Morning fair lady, didst thou sleep well? »

L'sha gives Ghena and Knioth a smile and a cheery wave as he sees them. "Hi there!" He peers at Ghena curiously. "You don't look so good. Have you been getting enough sleep?" L'sha awwws at Knioth's chivalrous gesture. "That's so sweet. Thank you, Knioth!" Rillaeth crooons to Knioth and quickly occupies the cleared space, but cocks her head and narrows her eyes a bit at the blue. Like a transmission from the black depths of space comes Rillaeth's reply. « Well, sure, don't I always? And why're you talkin' so funny? Using them fancy-schmancy words? » (To Knioth from Rillaeth)

Ghena gives L'sha a pleading look. Don't encourage the beast, it seems to say. She gives a roll of her shoulders, "That one wanted his entire couch swept twice, the barracks cleaned, and things neat before he went to bed, then promptly woke at the crack of dawn, insisting I do the same. I just miss the days of leaving the cot unmade, and not having to worry about how I look." She states. The blue beams proudly when his work is appreciated. Though he settles on his haunches head titled, watching the green.

The clash of swords as in battle, the confusing clang of sword on sheild. « Sweet lady my words have always been thus, do they offend thee? I shall attempt to make them acceptable to thine ears.

L'sha's initial expression of surprise quickly turns into one of sympathy, his brows furrowing together at her tale of woe. "Oh, you poor thing. He sounds like a handful! My problem is just the opposite, she wants to sleep all day. Sometimes I just can't get her to rouse in the morning. Pretty soon I won't be able to carry her out to get to calisthenics on time." Rillaeth curls up in the spot cleared for her, her lids beginning to droop. L'sha cries out, "Hey! No! See what I mean? If I have to exercise in the morning, so do you, missy. Let's go, stretch out those wings!" He extends his arms as wide as he can to demonstrate.

Rillaeth opens an eye and looks around at Knioth. « Oh, are you still here? Couldn't understand you there. What's that now? Something about me being sweet? Pffft. And I ain't got ears. »

Ghena snickers a little bit as she watches the display, eyeing the small green. "Fortunately Knioth hasn't asked me to carry him in a while. You want help? I'm sure Knioth could wake her, though he tends to be doting on the ones he deems not porcines" The girl doesn't elaborate further. She nods to her life mate, "Come On Knioth Show her how it's done!" The blue stands stretching his wings as wide as he can, quite large in their own right, the almost silvery sails gleaming from fresh oil.

Banners in the wind with the clear ringing of trumpets calls again. « I simply mean that you are a lovely lady, and that I shall strive to meet your approval. » The sendings change and the wind kicks up as the dragon extends his wingsails, « Dost thou dislike the idea of flying so much that thou will not stretch thy wings? » (To Rillaeth from Knioth)

You paged L'sha with 'oooh so it has to be after the = Thank you.'. Rillaeth just *looks* at his rider for a moment, then uncurls and stretches her pinions, a couple of feet short of the blue's span. L'sha whistles appreciatively at Knioth. "He's well-oiled, too. Quite the fastidious one there." To Rillaeth, he says, "OK, now flap those wings!" He flaps his own arms to demonstrate, looking completely ridiculous. He looks at Ghena as he does so. "Oh, no, thanks, I'll manage somehow. You have enough work to do with Knioth, I wouldn't dare impose more on you." Rillaeth does actually enjoy this part, and begins flapping energetically, kicking up small whirlwinds of drifted snow towards the weyrlings.

To Knioth, Rillaeth croons at being called 'lovely,' « Why, thank you, kind sir. And heck no, I ain't afraid of flying! I can fly circles around you any day! Watch this! » *flap flap flap*

To Rillaeth, Knioth projects «