Difference between revisions of "Logs:Elevating Goals"

Telavi troops across the bowl from the barracks in that bouncing stride of hers, chatting about little things-- though not yet the physically little thread for Keysi's knot-- such as, "Isn't the weather amazing? It's so nice to have clear skies this late in the Turn. You're lucky to have it even sort of warm-ish for his trying flying," and had she mentioned it? Flying? Well, she has now!

Keysi's thoughts seem to weigh on her rather heavily this day, not so long after being given the gift of burden that takes the color of silver. Her grey eyes watch the ground in front of them, many of the assistant weyrlingmaster's words lost on a mind traveling to other places. Eventually, Telavi would hit a word that draws her intense gaze back to reality. That, and the brown's tan-touched nose bumping her shoulder from behind as he strides in that draconic gait. Still awkward as he is, he struggles in his growth spurts to keep the agility and poise he so desperately desires. "Flying? Not just gliding?" Is clarified, her usually level voice inflecting in question in the surprise that really shouldn't be that much of a surprise given the time that's really flown by. Neianth's black-hewn wings spread to their lengths at that, creating a dramatic dark backdrop behind the once-healer.

"Not just gliding," Telavi's all too happy to confirm, her tone of voice capable of making even essay-writing exciting. Solith's up ahead, the green leaving off toying with a rock in favor to warbling to the dark-winged brown who's now over half her size. Flying! At last! Tela ignores her, though, beyond a brief if smiling glance. "What do you think, Neianth, do you feel ready? Does he feel ready? Over-ready? Well-done-ready?" transitioning to Keysi with nary a pause.

There are more words said between Telavi and Neianth than Keysi could take in at once as the content of the lesson is confirmed. At first the conversation is private, and the brown's intensity soon overflows to Solith as well. Shortly his reflective pool mind, distorted in ripples from all directions colliding, bouncing, creating tiny waves that offer no peace or serenity- just impatience and readiness « We belong in the sky. Of course I am ready. » Whitened talons pierce down into the damp earth beneath his paws as if readying to leap at a moment's notice. "Over-ready." Keysi echoes the best answer of the multiple-choice Telavi gave, the semblance of a grin starting at her lips and fading shortly thereafter. "The first of the gliding lessons were quite a challenge. This may prove a battle." Though her voice is even, the fondness for the brown is evident just beneath the surface. They've come a long way since their worrisome start. « Choose your battles wisely, for there is much to learn from them. » Is shared, perhaps unnecessarily in his excitement.

Her bright breeze might accentuate those ripples, definitely not seeking to soothe them; « Of course you do, » Solith agrees. « You too will be Fast and Swift and Speedy, won't you? » "Battle in terms of... getting him to land? To not crawl up the wall and fling himself from the nearest ledge?" Not to give him ideas, implies Tela's laughing, sideways look, except for how she isn't stopping herself at all. « Wise is so difficult sometimes, » her dragon meanwhile sighs.

Neianth's tail switches back and forth once, then stills, « As fast as the winds may let us. » His ripples give to her breezes, as if switching directions but never losing the unsettled, churning surface. There seemed to be some intervention in what he was about to say, but it's very swiftly forgotten and he rumbles, pleased at the edges of his barely-restrained readiness. « We have glided as much as allowed. We have grown as strong as allowed. We are ready. » There is a clear lack of the term 'I', though he doesn't seem to mean he's taking Keysi with him- he knows better. "If I even start to think about that, he'll be climbing the side of the bowl to get the best launching point." Humor, but dry as always, Keysi rubs her the back of her neck as if Neianth's excitement is only off-set by her nervousness on her ability to tone him down. "How was Sollith's first flight? Do they crash often?" Important question, that.

If Solith's noticed the intervention, for all that she's reacting, it might have blown right by; the still-little brown momentarily gains an imaginary bronze shadow, one that's scarred along his back before it disappears into the excitement of preparation. « Ready, set.... oh, fine, she says we must actually go to the line, » the also-imaginary line that she's just bounded up to, « like gliding but not. And, if you do not go too high yet, we will let you do it again. » "Her first flight? It was wonderful and awf-- oh. That. That was wonderful, of course. She just sort of fluttered, you know Solith," except that Solith does a lot more than fluttering these days, "and it was fine. You're not scared, are you?"

The small brown trails Solith to the line. Neianth doesn't bound, no, he stalks. Even now, even with intention of going upwards, his movements are crouched. Perhaps it will provide him with a better spring into the air. Impatience continues to stir the freshwater pool of his mind, and would stir his anger as it normally does if he wasn't so focused and honed in on the task at hand. His black-hewn wings are half-spread, tense, their sails not quite trembling in anticipating but they might as well be. « How high? » As if that's a challenge in and of itself to be met. His intensity churns across his small body with all those muscles coiled and notable, which ceaseless training has been developing. "Fluttering? I think he'll be embarrassed if he flutters." Though the girl had squarred her shoulders as if about to jump into a wrestling match, Telavi's words seem to help key her down a bit. Especially at the interpretation of the first flight concept. Keysi finally breaks her stare on her dragon to look over at her. "I'm not.. scared." She corrects carefully, her tone serious as ever, "I've seen what can happen when weyrling dragons get hurt. And I tend to get as carried away as he does."

The height Solith envisions is the height Telavi relays to her, the greenrider not happening to mention that that's not quite as high as her intended maximum; it's enough for two or three of his-size wingbeats, which in itself is a little more than exactly recommended in more conservative circles. "'It's good for him,'" Tela quotes cheerfully, only to confess, "I'm having a hard time imagining him doing it, and you know my imagination." Especially while telling spooky stories late at night in the barracks when people are unexpectedly awake. A little more seriously, in her gaze if not her voice, "It's true. But he'll be fine, you know. This isn't like flaming... count to three out loud for him, Keysi? Then he can give it a go." Solith even illustrates, sharing the feeling: like gliding, but not!

Whirling eyes, whirling as fast as the ripples of his mind churn and battle and clash, are angled upwards with Neianth shortish slender snout pointed towards the imaged goal. Like an arrow pulled taught into the string, there is that moment when tension is at its very peak. "One, two..." There's no three. Most likely, there's a three said in her mind a little pre-emptively which is communicated faster than the word can leave Keysi's lips. Black-toned wings down stroke earlier than limbs fully uncoil in their rapid spring, lending wing-tips to score the soft ground beneath them, and send dirt flying. It's not fluttering that he manages to do, but lopsided power strokes that turn him too soon to the right and not exactly up. Frustration magnifies that heavy pressure of his mind's touch, that all-encompassing feeling, as he can feel the strain « Not the same muscles. » Like those gliding muscles, but not! All that training helped, but it's obvious this is a different world entirely. Keysi's gaze stares upwards, with him, even if not physically so. She's quiet for a minute, caught up in his feelings before being able to offer, "This is not that bad." Yet.

"Oh, look at him!" exclaims Telavi, delighted, up on her toes as though that could somehow help the brown get higher. It may help that she's not so close as to actually have all that flung dirt get her clothes dirty, and if some speckles Solith's paws, neither seems to mind. « Think that way, » Solith encourages for those not-same muscles, so far past youthful learning as to not immediately register a more specific solution. She leans, Telavi leans, the latter just a little. "You'll double-triple-check your straps?" she asks distractedly, for something else that isn't that bad.... yet.

Neianth hisses, teeth clicking as he snaps his jaws. That physical manifestation of his frustration, and no more than that. For once, he has no clever words to share, and instead takes Solith's helpfulness as what it is. White talons slash at the air as if that will help him climb higher. Wings, too big for his little size, are obviously difficult to get together in unison. But somehow, whether it be by luck or that unfaltering, indomitable determination of his, he manages to get at least a few to beat in time with each other. And he goes up. The flight is not pretty, not elegant, and for each wingstroke that doesn't go the right direction, there's a self-chastisement for it. Not easy on himself, is he! "..Straps?" Her question comes more out of echoing Telavi's words, distracted, "..Yes, of course, I-" Oh, Neianth drops in altitude suddenly, spaded tail almost touching the ground before he regains that height. Such a wonderful distraction is this! "This is incredible. I cannot wait." One would assume, flying with him.

"Good." Good that the weyrling's agreed, good that her brown's descended, whichever; "Sabs fell, you see," Telavi says without looking away from him. "Don't you..." Such inelegant flight, reflected in her gaze, is even so amazing. With regret, "He should land. It'll be better for next time, when he goes again.

And that would where the problem may start this first time. "I do not think..." Keysi hesitates, stern grey glance shifting from determined dragon to instructive weyrlingmaster. "He doesn't want to." As if that's the answer to that. And Neianth is displaying that quite well. The characteristic glaze over Keys' eyes indicates her attempts at bringing him down, but the way she's on her toes, the way her fingers have rolled to her palms into fists, shows the pair are not quite (ever) ready to call it quits. The brown has managed to get back to the highest elevation he'd had before dipping, his chest heaving in the effort, maw open panting. « I can get to that ledge. » Once one goal is met, another quickly takes its place in an ever growing quest to be better, to be the best.

"Think heavy," Telavi advises with the first flicker of concern. "Think rock. Think down." Meanwhile, Solith adds less metaphysically, « Do come down, Neianth. If you do not, they will not let you fly again so soon, » and that would be sad. That would be tragic!

It isn't just Neianth that doesn't want to, though it's often difficult to determine which of the pair really wants what at times. Keysi hears Telavi, she does, but does she listen? She wants Neianth to get to that ledge. It's suddenly extremely important to him. Fail a goal? Impossible. They would do anything to meet and surpass that which is set before them. Keysi finds her grounding after a moment more of the small brown battling with unsteady wings. "I have so much trouble with us." She states lowly, "I don't believe they meant to give me the thread." The thought gives her the pressure to challenge the weight of Neianth's mind. It distracts him enough at least that he pays some mind to Solith, « Not let us fly? » The thought is terrible, frustrating, nigh horrifying. His shimmering faceted eyes laced with reddened-oranges linger on that ledge- that lofty goal! Next time, ledge. Next time.

"We did," Telavi promises, after that moment of biting her lip. "It will be a lot of work, you know. But you can." « No. » Sigh. At least, « It will wait for you, you know. » It will not escape. Solith will not let it. "We did."

Keysi leaves Telavi's side where she'd planted herself through the event to meet Neianth as he lands. It's not all that far, but she's off at a sprint to put a hand on his shoulder. His chest heaves as all paws plant themselves once again on Pernese soil. But his wings, they remain mantled as if those muscles refuse to quit despite the strain out of pride for what he'd done. « We will be better next time. » Keysi reels back a step from her brown, coughing a breath as if she'd been hit in the stomach, but with no physical attack seen to cause it. Given the look she gives Neianth, grey eyes narrowed in fondness she only displays for one, it must be there particular way of displaying such. « Next time we will reach it in one try, I assure you. » The promise and certainty behind that is absolutely necessary to the intense weyrling dragon, and there's a rumble towards Solith of something between appreciation and assurance. Once they've collected themselves, Keysi turns to better address Telavi, "But we struggled." She begins, curious more than confrontational, "Why us?"

« Even better! » as though they were good already. Telavi plays with the end of her braid, watching the other two. « I will watch it. » Solith will witness. If there's room, she may even also land. "Easy is nice," Telavi won't reject that, "but struggling is important," the greenrider says earnestly. "Not giving up in a good way," as though there could be another.

Keysi begins moving back to where she'd been- close but not uncomfortably so to the assistant weyrlingmaster. Neianth ghosts after her in her wake, though it's a little less shadow-like now that he's started to tower over her instead of pad away behind her heels. But, at least they made space for Solith. "Did you have one when you were a weyrling?" Grey eyes stern, observant spare a glance over the lake to finally take head count of others nearby before returning, "The Weyrlingmaster and I haven't really seen eye to eye on much." There's a start of a shrug that never manifests fully. "I just do not want to fail you." And by the term you, she seems to be indicating the entirity of the Weyr.

Tela greets her approach with a smile; Solith doesn't land on that ledge this time, but it's a near thing. Next time! "I did, and it was a horrible amount of work," which may sound, from this vantage, as though she loved every minute. "It's absolutely worth it, it's just you really need to make yourself a team," she stresses. "Plus, if you like actually knowing how the wings work and things? it's amazing. And... some people do wash out," she admits, turning back towards the barracks at a slower pace this time, "but if you really try, it will show. I know it will be hard for you because," this comes with a definite dimple, "neither of you is in any way competitive."

"I do." Keysi says lowly in regards to the wings, her hand and intense eyes falling to the tan muzzle that settles at being level with her shoulder. "We're no stranger to hard work," As if that's not obvious, "And I don't anticipate washing out." The vehemence that touches her level voice is one that denotes that as no option. Failure is never an option. A huff from Neianth echoes the simmering passion that she doesn't display, but he does. Her inner mirror. There's a thought-filled pause at Telavi's last comment, as if she's ready to argue it before she realizes the sarcasm of it. Instead, "I appreciate you all entrusting us with it. We won't let you down." Not intentionally, anyway. There's always room for hiccups along the way of learning.

Many, many, many hiccups. "You wouldn't--" wouldn't this or wouldn't that? wouldn't ever? wouldn't dare? just plain wouldn't? The smile Telavi has for the mirrors is positively brilliant, and she'll linger a little while in the barracks before reporting in to their master.