Difference between revisions of "Logs:Potential And Obligation"

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. Rumbles and flashes of lightning intersperse between the periodic fall of snow throughout the day. There is humidity in the otherwise cold air.

The sky is darker than normal at this time of the evening, the clouds blocking what is left of the setting sun. Snow is falling lightly through the dimming sky. The bowl might still be bustling with Weyr business, but few people have ventured out to the lake shore. Which may be why E'gin and Vysravth has picked this particular spot. The rider is standing in the middle of the beach, arms curled across his chest for warmth. His warm, heavy, breath visible in the night air, though the humity and perhaps some physical activity, have caused beads of sweat to form on his forehead. The brown is above him, flying large circles around the clear air space. He's clearly exhausted, but E'gin is pushing him on with occasional, verbal coaching. "Keep it up, make that turn tighter."

The sky has not fallen completely quiet, though the lightning has risen and ebbed over the course of the day, thunder still rumbles ominously. It is only now that Hraedhyth can pull her weyrling away from those mounting duties in order to investigate. Wide, ashen head tilted up at the sky, the dragonet's fangs are bared in challenge as snow falls and peppers her hide, answering those stormy quakes with her own forceful growls. "It's just thunder." Comes the muffled explanation from the bundle of layers walking beside her. Oversized brown fur coat makes a comeback as well as a wool cap, at least two scarves, and a pair of mittens. With her whirling eyes skyward it's not hard for Hraedhyth to catch sight of Vysravth, jaws parting to give a haunting, foghorn bellow of greeting. The two continue their easy pace, though what was once an aimless stroll gains a destination- E'gin.

It doesn't take the bellow for E'gin's head to turn to the weyrling pair, the growling is more than enough. A grin is given, and the rider turns towards the pair, walking slowly through the sand. The brown above, almost turns his attention away from the invisible goal before him, but E'gin's head jerks upward, "No. No distractions. The goal, only the goal." Wings beat on. When E'gin refocuses on the weyrling and her gold he is smiling, "Please pass on my apology to Hraedhyth." He drawls out slowly as he nears them, "But also tell her thank you. It is good for him to practice not being distracted." Despite the fact that he's speaking to Azalyia, his words are given in the direction of the dragon, addressing her. "How are you, Azalyia? Exploring the world? Is the storm something new. I can't remember if there have been any since the hatching..."

Hraedhyth will greet and simultaneously scold E'gin with a low snarl, though it's not overly aggressive. More petulant. By now Azaylia's head has craned up, watching the brown with the faintest crease in her brow though it could also be her squinting against the falling snow. "She just wants to wrestle." Comes the weyrling's explanation, lowering her head to give E'gin a smile, if the subtle rise in her cheeks is any indication. "Some dragon put it in her head, and now she's always looking to rough house." She may be forgiven for slights long ago, but the young woman's still hesitant in her usual manner. "Uhm. Fine. Thank you. I think... we might have, but dragons forget." Hraedhyth is back to looking up, attention shifting from Vysravth to the faint thunder. "And you?"

"Wrestle?" E'gin brows furrow but he can't hold back a chuckle for long, especially with the dragon snarling at him. "Well, I suppose he could do that, though I think he'd have an unfair advantage. He's almost twice her size." Even as he's saying contemplating it, the brown is slowly circling down to the sand. Landing with surprising finesse. Once down, Vsyravth's tail curls around his haunches, and his sails are pulled in against his body. A forearm swats outward, playfully, testing, without any real goal of hitting the little gold, simply a lets play move. E'gin sighs, but a small grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. He doesn't seem to notice the hesitation, or if he does is polite enough not to mention it. "True." He offers, "We're good. Don't mind the weather as much as some." He ponits a thumb toward her coat, it is a teasing jest, testing like Vysravth, are the two humans okay?

"That's what I keep telling her." Azaylia agrees, doing her best for quiet words to be heard even past the scarves protecting lips and nose. "She says she won't be smaller forever, and I suppose she's right?" Not that this particular weyrling compares sizes, big is big. The moment Vsyravth lands, Hraedhyth bellows her challenge, drums of "war" loud enough for even E'gin to hear. Launching herself through the snow, there will be no finess or warning before she's ramming head and bulky chest into the brown. Despite how rough she is, teeth and claws are tempered. For now. Azaylia slowly uncurls from that full-body wince, straightening up and glancing at the brownrider. "Sorry." Her coat gets a glance and she gives a nervous, breathy laugh, "Three turns," or so, "And... well at least I can manage to go out in the snow now? Maybe in a few more I won't need to be a big ball of fur?" Optimism, away!

Laughing, E'gin agrees, "That's true, I'll let him play now then, he won't be able to take her forever." The war drums wouldn't be so bad if Vysravth didn't let them echo through the empty weyr of his mindvoice, but he likes loud. He is loud. He's comfortable with the noise, even if it makes his rider wince. The brown doesn't bother to try and block the initial blow, she is after all much smaller, and knocks him back only a few feet an impressive feat for the little gold. Indeed, he only uses his size every once in a while, to remind her to be gentler, despite her small size, she can hurt. Perhaps it is a good thing she picked some an even headed opponent. E'gin's smile grows easier at Azaylia, "Well, you'll have to at least switch jackets, can't ride sweeps in that thing." The corner of his eyes squint as he chuckles, one of those almost silent laughs, imaging all the riders in big fur coats, "Besides, once you start going between regularly winter won't here won't seem nearly so bad."

Mittens fly upwards, covering where Azaylia's mouth would be visible as Hraedhyth makes such hard contact with the brown. "Hrae!" Her voice actually carries, despite the lack of need given their mental bond. She may be heeded, she may not be, though Vysravth's reminders have the gold's blows softer and her tussling less fervid... for all of a few minutes. She'll need to be reminded regularly. "Sweeps?" Azaylia pulls her gaze away from the two for a moment, before suddenly reminded. "O-oh. Yes. Flying. On her." Her hands lower to squeeze and rub against each other, nervous rather than just cold. "A-and between?" Not like it comes as that much of a surprise, "Sometimes I forget about that stuff, so much of this has been note taking a-and essay writing." A moment, "Did you, uhm, have to write a lot?" When he was a weyrling, that is.

E'gin waves the girl's protests off, "He can handle it, and he'll let her know when it gets too bad. Maybe..." His nose wiggles after a particularly hard bite, and a 'gentle' reminder from the brown, "he'll be able to teach her a little." He's hoping the gold missed that particular comment, and he watches the two wrestle back and forth as he listens to the weyrlings comments. Nodding first, before responding, his gaze goes from the tumbling to the girl, "I know, it his hard to see that far forward, I had to take weyrlinghood one day at a time. It was hard to see past a few days, at first. It will get better, as you get use to it." He snorts in agreement at the writing question, "Yah, a /lot/, and more as it went on...But at least I got to choose to stay in the leadership program, I guess you don't have that luxury." There is a sympathetic look for the goldrider-in-training.

Hraedhyth is far too engaged to listen to anything the humans are saying, so rare is it to find a wrestling partner. "As long as you're sure." Azaylia is a little less confident, "I guess I'm usually scared of her hurting the other dragonets. I'm glad she hasn't tried to play with Iesaryth too much." E'gin has the majority of her attention, though she will glance past every now and again at the dragons. "O-oh. Right. You were an Islander, you'd have a lot to learn. Like me." She quickly explains, certainly not singing her own academic praises. "I didn't learn a lot of the things people say are important, living on a farm." She accepts his sympathy with a gentle nod of her head, smile managing to persist, "It's alright. I know what being with Hraedhyth means." Curiosity is obvious in her gaze, perhaps inspecting him a bit. "But- why would you choose to be in the leadership program? You must be awfully confident." Unlike she.

E'gin nods at Azaylia, he's sure. Chuckling gently at the questions he nods, "There was some of that, to be sure, but the weyr put us into classes with the harpers as soon as they were sure we'd be here for a while, even before some of us stood." And he studied, a lot back then, "So we knew how to read and stuff, and since I didn't have a craft I used my extra time to practice, I was better off than some." He shoves his hands in his pockets, "Why did I choose?" He blinks softly, confused at the question, "If I am allowed any opportunity, I'm not going to turn it down. Even if its hard." A pause, "Maybe because it was hard. We're always going to push ourselves." He frowns thoughtfully, "Both of ourselves, and for the rest of the islanders, and for the weyr, if we can do it, we should do it... perhaps to prove to others that the islanders aren't some subset of the weyr." Another pause, a little longer, "In the end there were a lot of reasons, and all of them were for the good of the whole weyr." There is a linger, 'I hope', implied, but unvocalized. "If she weren't gold, would you do it? Push yourself like this? For the weyr?" There is no judgment, only curiosity about her particular position.

Azaylia listens quietly, perhaps slightly in awe as her curiosity is not only satiated but overfed. Not that she'll be complaining, hands folded politely in front of her and all of her attention on the brownrider. She certainly isn't expecting a question afterward, busy thinking over his words and blinking rapidly when E'gin turns it on her. "Oh. No, I don't think I would." The answer is quick, though her brown eyes drift over to watch the tawny dragonet in play. "I wouldn't trade Hraedhyth for anything, ever. She's so..." Even more breathless, so much so that she can't seem to continue other than a quiet, "I wish other people could see." And yet her tone is a touch... covetous? "I would do anything for the Weyr. The people- they've all given me so much." Rapid blinking begins again, perhaps a touch too emotional. "But that's why I don't... think I'd make a very good leader. I couldn't be, I can't be. There are people who are, will, be so much better at it." A smile, cheeks rising above the scarves once again, "I'm... okay with that." And in this, she doesn't sound quite sure.

E'gin allows the conversation to slip into silence for a moment as he considers the girl's response, watching his brown as the two dragons play. Something of a smile plays around his lips but doesn't ever quite appear, a thoughtful look also competing for domination of his face. Finally he speaks, another question, "Do you think if we don't accept the possibility of leadership then we are just being selfish?" He pauses, the question seems theoretical, "I mean, if we can do something, and we choose not to, are we failing others? If I can lead, or if I could do something to help others, would it simply be nice to do," He pauses to turn to her, "Or is it my obligation?" His tone, his look - if anything is implied, it is a question about himself, his choices.

Silence allows Azaylia to become aware of just how cold it really is, crossing her arms and hugging herself. She doesn't seem in much of a hurry to leave, despite the weather. Hraedhyth and her unrestrained joy may have something to do with that. "I... don't know." Something to be said as she takes a moment to really consider the question. "I suppose so? If you... if you know that being a leader will be a good thing. Something better." Which seems to be her own dilemma. "I think..." Hesitant, she watches E'gin's face for any sign of annoyance as she offers her views. "That if no one else is there, that if you really think- know, that you're the best and can do so much better..? I guess it would be an obligation, yes." Azaylia ponders for only a bit more, "Like a hero in those Harper scrolls. How he's the only one who can save his Hold, or even all of Pern." Depending on the genre.

"I agree, sort of." E'gin gives a chuckle, "Even in those stories, those ones about the heroes, I bet there were others who /could/ have done it. But they didn't believe in themselves, or they were scared, or they were selfish and so they didn't. The Hold, or the Weyr, or Pern just got lucky that there was one person who was willing to be brave and unselfish..." He trails off, "Which is why..." He points up, his finger circling the course Vysravth was flying before. "We'll be ready, if we ever need to be." He smiles softly, "Besides, you and me, we know there is something. Cause they picked us, and Hraedhyth must have seen a whole lot in you." The smile turns into a grin as he watches the strong willed gold, "Look at her, how strong she is, how sure of herself. She wouldn't have picked someone who couldn't handle her, and if you can handle her, you could handle anything." There is a glint of confidence in the girl in E'gin's eye as gives her a nod.

Azaylia's face falls, ever so slowly, as E'gin delves into the reasons that the heroes have for being the sole chance for salvation in her stories. It's not sadness, but the return of that pensive pinch to her brow as she considers those who could, but didn't help those fictional protagonists. She breaks from her thoughts, eyes widening just a touch as she looks over at the brownrider, "Y-you think so?" Hraedhyth has calmed somewhat, endurance less than that of a full grown dragon who's used to training. Instead she's taken to mouthing at parts of Vysravth, be it his talons, nose or even headknobs if she can get to them. "I..." She looks to argue, even if weakly, but falls silent instead. "Thank you." She looks thoughtfully at the ground, boot scuffing some snow, distracted. "I'll... try to keep that in mind." Honest in her attempt, but still so unsure. "So you were... being ready?" Hand rises to mimic his circling finger, only she's wearing mittens so the motion of one digit isn't overly obvious.

As the gold has calmed, Vysravth has eased in his rough housing as well. E'gin, though, has been studying the girl's facial features as they go through their emotions. "I do." Vysravth has kept his headknobs out of the way, the one part of him that has retained its weyrling-itchiness. « I am not a heardbeast. » The brown comments his voice the low rumble of thunder, after his talon is dealt with a little too roughly, though laughter is -felt- in the statement as well. The rider laughs softly at his dragon and turns back to Azaylia with a nod, his mouth curled to one side in thought, "Yes." He bites on his lip before continuing. "The dragons can see potential. That doesn't mean it is actualized in the person yet. Like a Master Harper may see potential in a child, but it is only through hard work and training that it can ever come to anything. He saw something me." E'gin focuses on the brown again, who is holding the gold away with a forearm, just out reach, like a boy might hold his younger sister, before freeing her to strike again, if she chooses. "But it takes both of us working as hard as we can if anything is ever going to happen for us. In the end it our choices that will, or will not, make us the best we can be for the weyr." The natural intensity of both rider and dragon now explained, though for the moment Vys seems more like a playful weyrling than his normal self.

A rumble of her own, less like thunder and more like the combined gullets of an army in waiting, « You taste much better! » Hraedhyth agrees, that he is not a herdbeast. Though it does little to stop her gnawing, save his physically keeping her at bay. Azaylia is trying best to keep up, slow to accept and then process what he's saying. The weyrling is so unused to thinking she has actual potential that E'gin's attempts unnerve and confuse her, at first. "But, what if there are people around who are so much better at what you're supposed to do?" Imagined or not. "Isn't it selfish to... to shove yourself into the lead because of what you think?" This time, it's her own actions and his hypotheticals that she's concentrating on, biting her own lip though it's hidden. "I'm not afraid of hard work." Quite the contrary, not that she'd say. "So... I suppose that no matter what, I should just keep giving it my all." Hraedhyth will choose to strike again, though the brown will notice her running out of that youthful energy. At least she won't be biting so hard.

« I thought you said golds protect the Weyr, does that include eating its inhabitants? » Vysravth is still rumbling with thunder and teasing. "Yes, that would be selfish, but if I never try to reach my full potential," E'gin is careful to keep the conversation directed at himself, hypotheticals now, see even he can learn, "Then who is best can't really be known. Giving up, or not trying, I think for me, that would be the worst thing I could do, I'm not sure I could live with myself knowing I might have hurt the weyr because I might have been the best and I just didn't try, for whatever reason. You know?" Even the brownrider needs reassurance sometimes, not that he'd admit it if she mentions it.

Hraedhyth keeps herself armed and ready, even while taking part in something as harmless as play, her intensity on display as a constant warning. Not to Vysravth specifically, but it is just how she is. « I am toughening you up. » She explains, « Keeping you stronger than Fortian dragons. » Whatever that means. Azaylia nods her head, perhaps inspired by E'gin's words or possibly just to be polite. "I do know." The possibility of doing more harm than good has her brows furrowing once more, however lightly. "I mean, there is the possibility of... But Hraedhyth is still a baby." A very large baby. "You're right, though. The weyr deserves someone who will try their hardest, who will do the most good." She doesn't speak of him, or even herself, leaving it open to interpretation without realizing it.

« Toughening me up? Iappreciateit, Lil' Queen. » Vysravth gives the title with an affection chuckle, even as he may give a little extra to his next bat to remind her that he is tougher, but there is no way to prove it. « We will be tougher than everyone else. » There is an intensity to match her own behind those words, a promise given, to the smaller dragon. « That is why I was flying when you came. To be bigger, and stronger. » E'gin turns to the young girl with a soft, comforting smile, "I didn't mean you specifically, but yes, the weyr deserves it of all of its riders." He tries to assure her, after her comment of Hraedhyth only being a baby, "She's only a baby, and you still have to get through weyrlinghood." A lopsided, teasing grin, "Right now, just one day at a time. That is how every weyrling deals. At least until they are getting a normal amount of sleep again." A comforting smile is given to the weyrling.

Azaylia is eager, in that soft way, to agree about Hraedhyth's youth. "Yes! That's why I think it's silly, people saying that... that maybe she, or even Iesaryth could rise before Rielsath." Relief, though not older E'gin has had more experience as a rider. He knows better, right? "I think I'll survive weyrlinghood." There's confidence there, and a gentle laugh for the reason behind it. "Hraedhyth will make sure of that." The queen in question will give a sudden thrum, drums pounding with a violent pleasure behind her words. « I like that! » His nickname for her, the dragonet's own intense fire flaring to match while Vysravth still out muscles her. « Tougher. Stronger. You are good to have here. » At the Weyr, not yet hers, but still the older golds' domain. « For a male. » Boyish, rough cackle that promises something deeper, later in her growth.

"The weyr is in good hands, until it is all straightened out for sure." E'gin comments quietly, even as he stares at his boots, thoughtfully, still he meets the girl's gaze again, "Yah, and you'll make sure she makes it through." That's how it works now. "And, I'm glad she picked you, Azaylia. A weaker girl would have cracked by now." There is some amount of brotherly affection in his tone, and he grins at her. « Good. Then it is yours. » The brown offers the nickname as a gift to the baby gold. « Yes. » Is his confident response to her assessment of him, though his laughter rumbles through her flames, causing balls of fire to erupt between them, « Yes. Well. Both males and females are important for the weyr to function. » Though he'll leave that for the weyrlingmasters to explain. "We should go get ready for sweeps." E'gin says apologetically to both the gold and her rider. "Please forgive me for taking your batting toy." That is given mostly to the gold, with a hidden wink for Azalyia.

Hraedhyth is upset to see her brown playmate go, and so she hordes the nickname along with the other trophies pilfered from older dragons. Azaylia too, is sad to cut short such an engaging conversation, wishing E'gin and Vysravth well on their sweeps. The thunder has receded enough that it no longer holds the gold's attention, which the weyrling is thankful for as she ushers her lifemate back to the warm barracks. She has a lot to think about.