Arekoth's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
Narrow at first and then widening, this ledge unfurls like a tongue from the mouth of the weyr. Medium to large, it could likely hold one bronze or perhaps two smaller dragons. Unremarkable, the pockmarked surface is smooth in places and ruggedly chipped away in others. Within the holes and crevasses, mold is beginning to grow, safe there from things that scrape over the surface of the rock and showing the rather shadowed nature of this low-set ledge.
Sunset hangs ruddy in the air but Solith's determinedly up and flying again, overseen by the aged green dragon who is her mentor in a vague sort of way. While she and Telavi are less awkward than they had been when they began, they're still nowhere near smooth, and there's an awful lot of thinkiness going on in their general vicinity. Perhaps it's a useful distraction, something that for once unites girl and dragon, that both of them crane their necks at ledges as they dutifully pass by. Certainly Tela's made quite a few checkmarks on the hide that's strung to her belt in impromptu fashion. It's all going more or less smoothly until the wind changes and there's a not wholly unfamiliar scent and, « Arekoth! » Guess who Solith's spotted, even if she is quite a distance away still? « We need a ledge. With a weyr, » she specifies, just in case. « Will you help us? » By the way Tela's abruptly looking around, she knows something's going on... if probably not what.
Arekoth is on his ledge, taking in the sun, rustling his wings impatiently every few seconds, and, immediately after each round of that, looking back to the weyr. It does him little good, it seems, only managing to get him rustling harder now and again, and that, still to no avail. It makes it so that Solith's greeting is the happier a distraction. « Little Solith! » He spreads his wings even before he's found her in the sky, folding them back only once eyes are on her. « Ledges with weyrs are the best kind. » Rustle. « Usually. » Just a beat before he moves fully over to the new subject. « You need to know what to look for. »
That display's far too much of an attraction for a young ledge-seeking, or possibly even ledge-hunting, green... even if he does, eventually, retract it. Solith beats in Arekoth's direction, taking Telavi willy-nilly around for the ride, an unfocused and dimly-recollected sense of ledge-without-weyr superimposed upon the lake in her mind's eye. It begins to sharpen. Of course, the confirmation quick and without words. This is known. « What should I look for? » What does he, wise-and-yet-playful Arekoth, think she should look for? Also, « When we take the rocks from that weyr, » for somehow she has remembered that much now, « it would be easy to kick them into the lake. But they won't fill up the lake... will they? »
For that little green, that little green seeking his guidance, more specifically, Arekoth is willing to make room. Even if she doesn't need it. « It would only fill it up long enough for it to splash, » is deeply serious and has the sound, at least, of sincerity. As does, « Best to wait for an unsuspecting blue about to bathe before you try clear the way. » The faintest glow at the periphery of his mind dissipates soon enough. « You might think to do that. You want a good view, first off. » And when that short man comes to the entrance, Arekoth does not now look his way.
She'd land lightly, ordinarily, by now. It's just that with someone aboard, someone who has her own opinions on how Solith should land... well, as Solith shows Arekoth, they're working on it. After that little gust of opinionated air comes one that's greater, a zephyr almost, all appreciation. « Good! » And then, more naughtily in a girlish way, « Good. » But she's distractible, and then distracted indeed, « What do you like to see? I like the lake, but also the feeding pens, except when I visit Warilith and look at them, I want to eat, and I do not like to be told no. » Telavi doesn't seem to notice H'kon either, right off, looking sharply between their dragons with her hands to her hips. Speaking of no.
« The lake is good, » Arekoth allows. « Getting to see the bowl is good, too. Lots of things to see, in the bowl. It's good to see. » Arekoth does give a look to Telavi, right before shifting his feet on the stone, to get just a little closer to Solith and all her zephyrs. « Being told 'no' is a terrible thing, » is overly conciliatory. « Make sure you don't get told 'no' about having a good view, no matter what it takes. » "You should not be here," doesn't even pull the brown's attention, for all H'kon seems to direct it to him rather than the weyrlings he'd put in the address.
« What do you like to see in the bowl? The tops of human heads are not so interesting, and I can see wings anywhere. » If not, perhaps, always the more dramatic types. Solith regards Arekoth with great opalescent eyes, unlidded now in the growing dusk, like she's drinking in his instructions. « I hope we have time, » she says. « To decide, to try them out, to make sure they are good. » This, from the hunter who only takes moments to appraise the herd before diving in to kill. But then, ledges are more permanent, aren't they? It's not like she can just go kill another one of those. « So that no one steals them first. I have heard that this has happened. » This last, she entrusts with Arekoth like an ominous and hitherto unspoken secret. As for Telavi? She twists around so fast, or tries, that leather creaks and she holds one hand to her hip, wincing. "I'm sorry!" she calls over her shoulder.
Arekoth's head turns, neck craned, away from Solith and out over the bowl. « It's not heads or wings. It's what they're up to. It's waiting for cracks. » There's a band of green for that, faded, but certainly unmistakeable nonetheless. H'kon has turned his scowl from his lifemate to Solith's. "It would seem that is not sufficient to put her into the air, would it not?" Arekoth's wings twitch, and he's looking to that little green once more. « There are those who will try steal them. You'll want to be very sneaky looking - very sneaky - and then very clear once you take yours. »
« Cracks? » It's soft, fascinated, a little breathy. And then, presumably under Telavi's influence, the young dragon pivots back to her haunches and, wings partially unfurling, circles in place as though under some tight rein. Not that she's left, yet, and along the way she gives Arekoth's rider the baleful eye that she won't give her own rider. « I shall try, » Solith promises Arekoth, and offers him the vision of how it feels to be puffed up over her kill as though thrice her normal size. There is much gnashing of sharp white teeth, too. Like so? « He says I should go, she says. She says it would be 'polite.' But it is your ledge more than any other's, is it not, Arekoth? You can say who may come and who may stay and who must leave again. » It could be coy, hinting, but instead it's the strong opinion of one who now believes in territory.
« He says, she says, » Arekoth repeats, atmospheric crackle muffled, to be all the more condemning. He stretches out his wings once more, looking up after that little green. « Maybe you should look for a ledge near here, little Solith. There's all sorts you can see. All types of cracks you can crack open. » That green aurora is back. On the ledge, H'kon sets his mouth into a flat line, and glares at his dragon. « Maybe I should help you look. » Glares. « I've done so little recently. » This time, frustration keeps that crackle crisp and clear.
« That is wise, » Solith agrees. She does like cracks. Cracks, he can feel it, where she can pry her talons in, and her teeth, and break it all open. Sometimes that's better than what's left vulnerable and wide open. « Yes. Come, we will leave him, » possibly leave them, except that's still a little too close to unthinkable for her... and besides, those straps were meant to make certain Telavi's strapped in and they're doing a fine job of it now. Muscle ripples across the green's hindquarters as she flexes for takeoff, and even with H'kon not looking at Tela, the weyrling calls, "I'm working on it!"
"As you should be." H'kon dares, even, to take a few strides, albeit making a wide circuit of that green, lest preparations turn into an actual takeoff. "I cannot keep him from his own ledge. This," gesture to green, "is well beyond my control." « I've tried. You leave them, they keep coming back. Pesty things, these ones. » Arekoth ignores that little man on the ledge, and looks down. « There might be a free ledge only just below mine, you know. And you'll want to see the couch has plenty of room, once you've found a good view off a ledge. »
« He cannot fly after you on his own. » Solith may be airy, but she needn't be illogical, and now... well, she's about to take off, but then cranes her neck over the edge to try and identify that ledge Arekoth's pointed out. Except she's tilting, and Telavi's stopped trying to say anything to H'kon in favor of just hanging on... right before the little green's claws slide against the stone and she topples over. « Come! » If he dares! « Do something! » She's doing it, falling, if for only a her-sized-greenlength before spreading her wings with an audible catch of wind. What he also gets is something very like a «Whee! »
« You'd be surprised how far stubborn can go toward wings, » Arekoth promises that little green, voice dipping low for some sort of hidden laugh, not necessarily mirthful. He gets so far as to leap from the ledge himself before H'kon has control again, metered control, at least so much as to have his dragon's wings spreading and then pounding against the air to send Arekoth shooting up instead of heading for the ledge. « Go for the view! » And if Solith should follow, well... there are actions and inactions that fall under a man's control, and there are those that don't.
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