Difference between revisions of "Logs:Something To Prove"

Cloudless and cold, it's a bit chillier than usual tonight - but at least it's not snowing. That might be why the tall, dark weyrling perched on the fence doesn't even seem to mind being out that much this evening; her red hat is still securely on her head, her mittens on her hands, but Brieli sits straight and easy as she watches Iesaryth across the pens, to where the dragon is finishing off whatever meal has been hunted in the darkness. The sunbursts of her hide shine dully in the moons' light.

They're being watched, perceptibly, whether it's from one of the many ledges or anywhere else that the moons can't reach. The world is silent for a while around them. The wind kicks up, then, tugging at hems and any exposed hair, even that of the dead animal where it's not clotted with blood. And then there begins to be the electric current of awareness, perhaps not unfamiliar: Vrianth. « So much better now, » the green murmurs, if it's not just the wind. So much better to be hunting for oneself.

Then, perhaps Vrianth might have witnessed an illegal flap or two of wings; nothing so bad as to harm or to really be breaking rules, just enough to get the beast over to a place where Iesaryth can eat properly. Perhaps. At the wind, Brieli looks up first, not distracted with her kill or her food - trying to catch sight of the maker of the winds in the moonlight. Her lifemate does not, given the convenience of feeling rather than seeing the green nearby; ocean's rhythm rises up to greet her, agreeing, « Indeed. It was getting... slow. » She doesn't say for who.

Wistfulness rises with the descent: so many animals just waiting, an easy snack. The moons are blotted out then, for Brieli though not for Iesaryth, and then Vrianth completes the spiral and lands. Neatly. Nearby. Hers, today, is an economy of motion. "Evening," her rider says conversationally, though still with a hushed timbre as befits the hour. "It's nice to see her flying a bit." Vrianth's eyes glow beyond her, two moons in and of themselves, if moons that stay to no fixed orbit.

Iesaryth is possibly envious. She knows how easy it must be, it will be to get the faster, younger ones. But no. Vrianth will be watched with that blue steadiness, over bone and hide. With a little roll of her eyes, Brieli is not overly surprised by Leova's appearance, but pleased nonetheless - flashing a smile, she swings long legs over the fence to face the other woman, but the last sobers her; a little wide-eyed, anxious, "You won't say anything, will you? She doesn't really give me warning." A look shot over her shoulder.

Vrianth's rarely one to shy away from attention, so long as it's not the touching sort, the more so if it can be construed as admiration. Now she nudges, not physically so much as an incipient spark: go on. Have your fill. Since she can't. Her rider swings a leg over, too, to face Brieli better, but that's before the weyrling's change in expression. Now she slides down after all. "She's not supposed to? I don't keep track, this time," says the woman before admitting, "Least, trying not to. Don't worry. Long as she doesn't hurt herself, we're good. And if she does," there's a one-shouldered shrug: just as well to have a dragonhealer nearby.

If there's one thing Iesaryth loves, it's to watch and learn and see, but there is still food and she is still growing, maybe right this minute - time to eat, perhaps she'll watch more when Vrianth starts moving. "Well..." Brieli hedges, glancing from Leova back towards the dragons with a sigh. "Not entirely. She's flying, finally. Apparently, we're not meant to outside of supervision, but she doesn't agree." Her own feelings on the matter are left out for the time being. "I doubt she'll hurt herself. Anyway, never mind - how are you? Your daughter?" Vrianth, she can see.

She can see Vrianth slink down to nearly brush the ground, then, moonlight slipping over those haunches raised if not quite tensed, those wings swept back like she could leap at any moment if she chose. Leova's leaning against her foreleg, though, seemingly unworried at the prospect of her support disappearing. With some sympathy, "Must be especially hard, seeing other dragons her size get away with it. Even if it is for a good reason... We're all right. Pretty much. She's getting into anything and everything she can reach. Don't know what we'd do without the nannies, you know? Don't know if you want one of your own, someday. Getting back to Glacier isn't so easy."

Peering over the remains of her meal, Iesaryth won't make a sound as she watches Vriath's movements, ocean's roar distant as if far, far away. Her lips quirking wryly, Brieli nods to Leova, agreeing, "It has been, on her. On me, less so. But for hearing from her. Meara's had her watching the others, which is good in theory, but in practice... I think it makes her a little crazy. With the hunting, she knows she has to get better than the prey." To the possibility of her own children, she's certain, "No. Though it's good to hear there's a lot of help. How is it difficult? I haven't gotten to much about the wings yet."

"Can see that," Leova says after less than a moment's thought. "Like looking in through a window, watching the Lord's children feasting." Feasting: there's a sudden lunging movement that's Vrianth's neck, snaking, her narrow head snapping at the air just above the ground. Try that? The greenrider's straightened just in time, and now she rubs her shoulder unthinkingly. "Sorry if I asked you before, by the by. Still not enough sleep. And Glacier, well. We've got hardasses there, and they don't slow down for anyone. Particularly women."

Thoughtful, "Something like that. Maybe more like - watching everyone dance with a broken- No, not quite. I'm not sure what works. But that's the idea." Brieli blinks over at the flash of movement from Vrianth, looking back to Leova with wide dark eyes. Quick. "Oh - don't worry about it. I'm just paranoid; I'd hate to see us grounded and hear about it from her, or... whatever else they might come up with." For her last, the tall girl wrinkles her nose for a moment. "If you don't mind my asking - why would you want to go back, then?" Iesaryth, for her part, is also impressed with the green's speed - next time, that'll be up first.

There's a wry nod from Leova, imagining, which shifts into an equally-wry smile at the weyrling's reaction. The weyrlings'. "Sounds harder on you than it was for us," but there's no real perturbation: the other two can handle it. "And... why go back? Funny, got that asked that the other day. Maybe I should give it another think." Her eyes refocus on the feeding pens for a little while, then drift back to Vrianth, as they always seem to do when the green's near. "Well. We got put there. Had something to prove. Proved it. And it's," there's that one-shouldered shrug again, something she hasn't quite words for, though there's a hint of electricity again from Vrianth: static, but also exhilaration. "You could say, they're our hardasses." Could.

"I'm sure that it's hard on everyone on different ways. Different times, different pressures." Brieli doesn't elaborate on current pressures - everyone's talking about it, so why should she? Leova can fill in the blanks, no doubt. She has a smile for hearing the question more than once, noting, "It might be a sign. I don't know. Perhaps I think I wouldn't have a lot of patience for people once I've proven myself to them, that I wouldn't have to prove myself again. But people who are family..." The weyrling purses her lips, her smile shading a bit sad. "I think I understand. I suppose motherhood is too sentimental to give you a break."

"Reckon so." Leova can't help but reach up to Vrianth, the dragon rubbing her cheek against her hand, faceted eyes momentarily single-lidded. "Stubborn don't necessarily mean smart. Sentimental, though. It's," this time it's a tightening of her shoulders more than a proper shrug. "Complicated, hm? I'd better wish you a good night, anyhow. Got to get her situated. She likes hunting, but when they're here, and they seem just right for a snack, and we're not supposed to anymore. Well." Can Iesaryth feel Vrianth's stomach rumble, projected like that? It's enough to make Leova roll her eyes, and mount up that much more quickly.

"Reckon so." Leova can't help but reach up to Vrianth, the dragon rubbing her cheek against her hand, faceted eyes momentarily single-lidded. "Stubborn don't necessarily mean smart. Sentimental, though. It's," this time it's a tightening of her shoulders more than a proper shrug. "Complicated, hm? I'd better wish you a good night, anyhow. Got to get her situated. She likes hunting, but when they're here, and they seem just right for a snack, and we're not supposed to anymore. Well." Can Iesaryth feel Vrianth's stomach rumble, projected like that? Can Brieli? It's enough to make Leova roll her eyes, and mount up that much more quickly.

Looking back Iesaryth's way; "I think she's about done anyway. Just making sure she won't wake up starving, perhaps." If Brieli can't feel Vrianth's pain, Iesaryth can; so hungry when she wakes up! Enough to make her worry over bones a bit longer. Looking up to Leova with her own shrug, "It's always complicated, isn't it. Well. I hope you both have a good night. And Vrianth, I hope you can manage." The weyrling gives the green due consideration and a nod - she showed off her tricks after all.

Vrianth will indeed manage. Somehow. And then Leova's waving, and she's leaping, with a spiral up, up and away that just happens to take her over the feeding pens and into the dark.