Difference between revisions of "Logs:Scratching An Itch"

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.

Even big, important Weyrleader types have to fly sweeps. It's probably the reason Hraedhyth is sunning herself in the tufted grass of the bowl rather than chasing after Tsanth. In the middle of her protective semi-circle is Azaylia, paperwork weighed down by various skulls while she leans back against her dragon. Those weeks of wanderlust as well as the summer heat have darkened her skin, a dusky contrast to the pale yellow sundress she's wearing. A clipboard is balanced in her lap, flowery cursive flowing out of her stylus as she works in the fairly empty area of the bowl, a tall glass of juice next to her.

And out of the dragon infirmary steps Ilicaeth and a cargo short, tank-top wearing Alida, the pair wandering out into the Bowl at leisure, though - once along their trip to nowhere - the craggy blue stops to rub one of his cheeks against an errant tuft of that grass before they continue on. As they close with the sunning gold, Ilicaeth gives out a mellow warble of greetings to Hraedhyth, while Alida simply waits until they're closer to greet both queen and her rider. "Evenin' Hrae, Zay."

A little 'itchily,' « Suppose yer not wantin' ta play/battle, now... » Chuff. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth)

Hraedhyth's lids open in a flash even before the blue's warble, all too alert despite how comfortable she looks. She does lift her head in order to return his greeting with a snarl, savage though it might sound. "Alida." Azaylia leans even more against that tawny hide, tilting her head up to smile at the other woman. Her gaze glances away, at Ilicaeth, and then back to his rider, "Is Ilicaeth feeling well?" Now concerned, she sets her stylus down for good.

There's a crackle and twitch of kindling within Hraedhyth's fire, sympathetic itching all too obvious. « I could. » She would, but, « Mine worries. She says it could hurt them. » The abstract concepts that rest in her belly, not yet visibly bulging with eggs. (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth)

He (and probably everybody else at 'Reaches) is quite used to the gold's style of greeting, and once Hraedhyth's resettled herself, Ilicaeth splays out in the sun right beside her, even going so far as to rub some of the underside of his long tail against the ground, and whatever likely part of the queen that's nearby...like her tail ridges, claws, even her smaller, trailing wing-claws. The vocalizations the blue gives off sound distinctly irritated, peeved, even. Alida twists her lips a little at the dusky woman's inquiry, then sighs as she peers between her itching dragon and the Weyrwoman, the blonde appearing even less pleased than her lifemate. "He rolled in a patch uv' some overgrown shurbbery-type crap down South this afternoon. An' now..." The blue's actions speak volumes. "The 'healers just gave 'im a rub down with a huge batch uv' human-type skin cream they make fer rashes. We're waiting fer it ta take full effect." Absently, one of her hands lifts, and starts scratching nails lightly at her own cheek. Empathy/sympathy pangs.

Mutter, grumble huff. « I'd suggest goin' fer a swim instead, but they banned me from the damned water until I quite itchin'. » Grey sands scrape and scour in irritation. (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth)

"Oh... poor baby." Azaylia's concern is joined by sympathy, her eyes following Ilicaeth as he tromps over to join Hraedhyth in her sunning. Not just the stylus, but her clipboard is placed off to the side, hand reaching for her half-full glass of juice. "And you? You didn't go touching the plant too?" There's a twitch beneath the gauzy fabric of her skirt, a lump that travels down until it runs out of sundress. Don lumbers along Azaylia's legs, pausing to turn his head and eye Alida, caught by surprise. Once he readjusts his wings, his head takes on a cheery tilt and he gives a huffy chirp up at the bluerider.

Hraedhyth attempts to help, tongues of flames lapping at his itch in a tempt to burn it off-- much like his scouring. « This is nice. » Staying still, if only for a short time. She doesn't always need to be active. Does he? (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth)

"Oh shells no..." Alida notes to Zay, the woman then looking up into Hraedhyth's eyes and asking the gold directly, "Mind if I lean?" One hand lightly pats the queen's nearest bit of hide, and she politely waits for an answer via Azaylia before speaking again. "I was wary about it in the first place, but *somebody* didn' give a damn..." Apparently the blue can be as impulsive as his rider, at times. And then there's a... moving lump?... under the goldrider's clothing, and Alida gawps at it for a moment before the lightbulb comes on in her head...the bluie smirking at Don, then noting wryly to her fellow 'rider, "Please don't tell me ya' store 'im there." Snicker. As if the little brown's appearance calls her, Pyrite zip in from the lake, her hide dripping some leftover drops of water as she tries to land on Azaylia's knee to peer at her chirping contemporary down there. "Hello, Don..." the blonde notes affably enough to the younger flit, wiggling her fingers a little at him. For Azaylia again, "How's his trainin' comin' along?"

Oh, yes! Oh... that's the ticket! The more Hraedhyth burns that itch, the more wriggling Ilicaeth does, his mental and physical hidescape rippling with shifting, gritty grey dunes. « Oh yeah... Nnngh. Don't stop! » (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth)

Hraedhyth lowers her head, watching Alida with an easy gaze. As she lets out a low rumble, "Of course not." Azaylia translates. From behind the rim of her glass, "Hm?" She glances down at the brown flit as he gives a smooth leap, flapping wings in order to land on the Weyrwoman's shoulder. Clearly familiar with the bare terrain, his stocky physique is still graceful as he crosses behind her neck and brings his head around to touch 'knobs to her cheek. All the better to look down at Pyrite and watch her. With both flits using her as a perch, Azaylia can only laugh, "It's going very well. He's so smart... we have an understanding." The last comes out in a coo that might not inspire confidence.

Sparks leap in surprise at Ilicaeth's pleasure, fading away as Hraedhyth simply accepts her success. « If it helps. » Then she won't stop, edges of her flames curling into red-hot claws that scratch at his discomfort, battling to banish that itch. Or at the very least, distract him long enough for the salve to kick in. (To Ilicaeth from Hraedhyth)

"Thanks..." Alida notes to both gold and Azaylia, the blonde then stretching hugely, and finally abutting her shoulders, back, and butt against Hrae's shoulder as she leans. Mm, soft hide and firm muscle are better than beds. Grinning a little at Don's antics, Alida peers from buff brown to chirruping mini-gold back to Zay, the Glacier 'rider's lips soo making a little moue when the other woman speaks of 'understandings.' "Now why d' I get the feelin' that there's more luvin' goin' on between you two than lessons?" Both slender brows arch up some as 'lida awaits some kind of an answer from the goldie, a hint of the 'taskmaster' coming over her mien. And while the humans socialize, the dragons continue to engage in itch control measures, Ilicaeth giving soft huffs and groans as he arches, wriggles, shifts...and continues using anything of decent size and strength nearby as his private scratching posts...including Hraedhyth and the ground. The cream's working, but too slow for his already sensitive hide; so with a rumble, the blue summons a more precise (if smaller) set of claws. Pyrite cheeps brightly, and quickly ascends from Azaylia's knee to her larger cousin's tail, which he so kindly stops moving around to allow her to scratch at it with impunity. Chuff.

Distraction or true help; Ilicaeth doesn't care. What matters is that, between his actions, the gold's, and now Pyrite's, the itch is slowly dying down. Burn baby, burn! Ahhhh.... (To Hraedhyth from Ilicaeth)

"Because," Azaylia begins, interrupted by Don's nuzzling, closing an eye and pressing back into them. Through all of the affection, he's got at least one eye on Alida, the other closed much like his keeper. "If he learns quickly and does so well, there's not a lot of need for discipline." Her confidence may have to do with the firelizard's behavior, docile and downright jolly. Perhaps there's a method to her madness? Hraedhyth doesn't mind being used to scratch the blue's itch, though the sensation of damp cream on her hide leaves the spot twitching.

Alida might be a skeptic, but even she can see that Don's a decent sort - at least right now, anyway - the woman shrugging slightly, then inquiring, "Does 'e carry stuff for ya', yet? I know Pyrite's over three months ahead uv' 'im, but I got 'er retrievin' things for me, now." When she's not attending Ilicaeth, anyway. "Does 'e heed other people?" Back over at the 'itching post,' the blue's once insistent motions are subsiding with the antihistamine and analgesic effects of the creme applied to his hide, and soon he winds up sighing in utter relief and just relaxing against Hraedhyth while the two gals work to clear up the trailing edges of his itch. In some minutes, Hrae too will experience lesser effects of that salve, where Ilicaeth rubbed it into her hide with his actions.

A few more moments of saccharine distraction before Azyalia can pull her focus away, "Sometimes he helps, if I've dropped something? Not always." But it doesn't sound as if she holds that against the brown. "Uhm-- oh." Her eyes brighten, "He does, I think he does, but you reminded me... He chased a persistant greenrider out of my weyr. A friend," By the loosest definition, "But I didn't have time for company... There was no problem, not really. But Don... well. He didn't heed G'riff, no." Hraedhyth's head turns to watch Ilicaeth after that sigh of relief, jaw still resting atop her forelimb. That bit of her twitching hide eventually smooths out and is forgotten, salve numbing the spot-- a small spot on a large gold.

"If you want 'im able ta get, deliver little things for ya' - like messages - teach 'im while 'e still young..." Alida murmurs around a laconic smirk to Azaylia, the bluie then making an 'ah' face at word of Don's protectiveness. "I figure that's just a natural thing. You're 'is bond, after all." A questioning look for the goldrider - perhaps silently asking permission - precedes a somewhat-trilling sound emerging from Alida's mouth and vibrating lips, her manner silently inviting Don to join her. Now that Ilicaeth's done with Pyrite's claws, the little gold flicks herself right back over to her own bond's shoulder, giving the bluie a rub of cheek to temple after landing. She too is now peering inquisitively at the wee brown at Zay's neck. And Ilicaeth? He's sighing in relief, and offering Hraedhyth a languid rub of his muzzle to whatever part of her is nearest. « Mmrhmmm... Thanks. »

Don is slow to pull away from Azaylia's cheek, peering up at Alida as she lets loose that odd sound. There's a surge in his limbs, like he wants to go, but..? "Try this." Azaylia suggests, pursing her lips just slightly and clicking her tongue rapidly, sounding not unlike kiss-kiss. Luckily for Alida's sake, it isn't. Hraedhyth leaaaans over in order to touch her brow to Ilicaeth's muzzle, affectionate... just not willing to lift her head. Either the quickening is an exhausting process, or she's already had her fill of activity. For now. It's only midday, after all.

Listening to Azaylia's brand of 'Firelizard Summoning, 1/2,' Alida soon imitates it, adding in a subtle mental 'please come' to the little brown. And since Zay's so sporting and quite a jolly person, herself, Pyrite decides to heed the goldrider's sounds, and vaults from Alida's shoulder to the Weyrwoman's knee again, then crooning up at her with happily whirling, blue eyes. "Two-faced hussy..." the Glacier 'rider chuckles at her pet, then taking up those new sounds again. Ilicaeth doesn't mind that Hraedhyth's too pooped out to do more than touch him back. Actually, he picks up on the gold's feelings, and - since he's blessedly itch-free, now - soon joins her in being a draconic vegetable on the Bowl's floor.

Well since Alida's asked so nicely, Don is happy to oblige with a low trill sounding as he takes off. He lands on her shoulder and goes about nipping and pulling at her blonde locks, as if to rearrange it. Don't hide that pretty face, doll. "Oh don't call her that." Azaylia defends the gilded firelizard, just as seriously as Alida was in first insulting the creature. So, not at all. The weyrwoman reaches out, stroking along Pyrite's 'knobs and neckridges, a soft smile worn on her lips. Unprovoked, but still genuine, "I'm glad you got into Glacier, Alida. It's a good wing." The best, judging from the warmth of her voice. Then again, that might have to do with the firelizard on her knee.

Pleased that Don's amenable to some gentle summoning, Alida rewards him first with a rub to his little chest, then an eyeroll for his bad hair preening of her. "He do this with ya, too?" she notes to Azaylia, then poofing up an errant lock of her ungroomed hair with a blast of breath from her lips. As for Zay's words of how the blonde spoke to Pyrite, 'lida snert. "She knows how I feel. Those're just words." From a rough and tumble guard. And, apparently, the little gold is now doubly happy, for she's getting not only pleased vibes from her bond, but pettings from the other woman, the somewhat older 'lizard curving her neck into Zay's fingers and curling her tail about the goldie's wrist. Mmm...bliss. Returning to gently petting Don - and trying to ignore his continued grooming - the woman murmurs in answer, "It's good ta feel... well, ta fit in decently." Pause. "How...an' why did *you* get inta Glacier?"

Azaylia bites back a laugh, "If my hair is long... He watches Hana closely in the mornings." Her hairdresser and personal assistant all wrapped up into one. Azaylia is Don's bond, after all, she has to look good. And so does Alida, apparently. The Weyrwoman gives a coo down at the oh-so happy firelizard wrapping herself around her wrist and fingers. "Me? Well... actually, it was brownrider Val that gave me the idea. And Hraedhyth enjoyed running mock drills during weyrlinghood. I never imagined we might be Senior, and I didn't see the harm of a junior joining a fighting wing during an Interval..." She's all too happy to explain how she joined and flew with Glacier, and eventually chose to give it up as Hraedhyth's maiden flight neared. During all of it, the two firelizards will enjoy steady attention from both riders-- and possibly more 'lizard swapping. Scandelous!