Logs:Dutiful Clutchsire
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| RL Date: 9 January, 2016 |
| Who: A'sran, Dahlia, Leczuth, Taeliyth |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Clutchparents stroll while their dragons feed after a dragonhealing check up. |
| Where: Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 14, Month 10, Turn 39 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Ka'ge/Mentions, Mirinda/Mentions, N'rov/Mentions |
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| Dahlia's greatest concern for the dragonhealer's today is that she doesn't see changes in her dragon's body. Should she? Is something wrong? There's a little hand-wringing as the dragonhealer on duty explains patiently that there are a lot of changes going on internally and that they'll see the evidence of those changes in due time. Nothing to worry about. Diet is the next biggest concern: should she be trying to get Taeliyth to eat more? A. Only when Taeliyth feels hungry. By the end, some of her concerns are calmed and A'sran's presence is no doubt appreciated. She's silent until they're out of earshot of the infirmary, leaving clutchmother to clutchsire to be on their way to the feeding pens while their riders stroll that direction, Dahlia's arm tucked around A'sran's. "I know I'm not a healer, but I feel like I should have studied all this, like all my questions are stupid," and that doesn't feel good, though notably it doesn't stop her from asking them. To Leczuth, Taeliyth is, as she often tends to be, a little cranky in the wake of having been poked and prodded by the dragonhealers, and the want for a trip to the feeding ground is as much because she'd like to do something productive with her annoyance as because she's a little hungry. Her annoyance radiates, her desire for a kill and even that little bit of hunger, she shares with the bronze; lucky him. It could be noted that A'sran attends the meeting with the dragonhealers with less enthusiasm than the goldrider -- an idle man with idle attentions -- except when Dahlia looks his way, then she would see his concentration on whatever it is the healers are dribbling on about. He relaxes when they exit and stroll the weyrbowl, his stride as comfortable as he in talking to the woman on arm. "Part of their job is answering questions," he says, bemused blue gaze flicking to the goldrider. "You are allowed to ask as many as you want to. I doubt you are the first or the last." To Taeliyth, Leczuth senses her irritation and crankiness, but his emotions are far more ethereal in the present; his attention was with the dragonhealers, his possessiveness for whom they touched. He settles on a ledge high above the feeding grounds, letting his mate take first pick of the beasts within the pens. « Eat. It will make you feel better. » Practical, stoic, from up high, where he can see and likewise be seen. "You're right," Dahlia admits with a rueful look. "Thank you for coming. It helps me to know I have someone who's not a healer to tell me that I'm allowed to be silly about all this. I imagine it's not much worse when a woman asks about her own pregnancy." It could be an offhand remark. It could be a subtle hint. Either way, her eyes drift in the direction of the dragons. "I'm glad you were able to make time. How are you finding your new wing?" It's more than polite inquiry on Dahlia's part, as with most of her questions she truly wants to know the answer. To Leczuth, Taeliyth is ready to be annoyed with Leczuth, only something now forgotten just won't see it through to slinging these particular feelings where they're undeserved. She does hold him in her regard a moment, taking an extra circle above the feeding grounds before diving. « Fine. » He's right. Not that that makes her not right, but she never particularly likes conceding that someone else could be right, too. The herdbeast she fells is plump, in its prime, and the kill is not kind, but it does make her feel, marginally, better as she digs into the flesh. "I would have been doing something less interesting if I was not there. Paperwork, errands, aimlessly wandering the caverns," A'sran states, his bemused look growing, but he does not ask about that remark, as offhand as it is. "N'rov is a capable weyrleader. He has his work cut out for him, but the wing.. it is still settling, after all the changes and transfers. He is hopeful and he has every reason to be. I am grateful he tapped me into it. Flattered I should say," he responds, with a smirk and an uplift of blue eyes towards the pens. To Taeliyth, Leczuth does not gloat or ooze his pleasure, but he is immeasurably satisfied when the queen makes her first kill and starts to sate her hunger. It is only then that he launches from his borrowed ledge to skim the feeding grounds, gliding over the herds and sending them running in all directions; playing with his prey before descending on a hapless fattened specimen nearby the fence. "Is there something less interesting than sitting through one of those appointments?" Dahlia wonders aloud, humor in her voice. "I might skip them if I didn't think either the dragonhealers or Mirinda would track me down for shirking duties. "I think Taeliyth likes the idea of continuing the Fort line more than she likes the actual doing now that the fun part is done." There's a grin for that. "I can see how he would think you well-suited. You're clever than you let on, you're well-spoken, and dutiful. I'm not sure he counts your good looks or bedroom skills on the list of attributes most important to him," she teases lightly. "I'd be pleased to hear about your duties. A little vicarious living, maybe," given her permanent membership in Citrine. "Do you like your wingmates so far?" It's difficult for Taeliyth to stay in her mood when Leczuth feels so satisfied and she's becoming so herself. There's a brief flare of annoyance before it's gone, no doubt to make a point that she doesn't have to be un-annoyed, but she will, out of respect for him, out of a want not to spoil his good time. « When I am stuck, » what a loathsome concept, « will you hunt for me? » (To Leczuth from Taeliyth) "Paperwork, errands, aimlessly wandering the caverns," A'sran repeats, wryly, his eyes, dancing with laughter, returning to the goldrider. "It is nice to get verification that all is well. Dragonhealers are there to do their duty, to make those assurances." He blows out an embarrassed breath that is not half as embarrassed as it is amused. "Me? You might give my ego all the fuel it needs to soar too high, my lady," he quips, his smile hedging into a boyish grin. "N'rov could find uses for all of my skills," speaks highly of their weyrleader, and then, more casual: "My wingmates are all fine fellows themselves. I would not have expected less of our weyrleader's picks." To Taeliyth, Leczuth takes great pleasure in eviscerating his meal, but again, it is not the gloating, far-reaching type of a gratification. It is the satisfaction of a beast replete. For now. « I will, » is full of finality, as his head lifts and his whirling eyes find Taeliyth. Dahlia makes a face, a little lift of her eyes to the sky, but then a broad smile. The humor is appreciated. "Careful then, bronzerider, flight is easy, it's the landings that are tricky." She briefly rests her head against his shoulder, a little hug given to his arm before she's straightening again. "N'rov has some interesting choices for recruits. Interesting skills. Only three bronzeriders total." She lingers on that thought a moment, "A'sran, the last thing I want to do is make anything between us complicated or life more complicated for you..." But. To Leczuth, Taeliyth contemplates his answer a moment before allowing herself to feel a little pleasure about it. « Are you looking forward to the eggs? » It's curious. The soft "mm" sound A'sran makes is thoughtful. "Hematite used to have a fair amount of bronze and browns. They had a lot of.. problems, the grapevine said." He makes that observation with a small hike of his fair eyebrows, but then she goes on cryptically and they lift higher. And he waits. To Taeliyth, Leczuth takes time to consider her question, and the turn of his head, at such an odd angle, is almost as mental as it is physical. « Yes. » "Yeah, seemed like it. Quite a reputation," Hematite. Dahlia's brows knit a little, "Well-bonded, though, for the most part." She looks to A'sran and clears her throat. "In an effort not to see problems arise, I thought you should know that Ka'ge and I saw each other during weyrlinghood, and after." She chews her lower lip a little, "I want things between us to still be easy. Morning wake ups, afternoon delights and nightcaps," all of which have been requested in their time and well enjoyed, "and I don't expect you to be talking about me, but I thought knowing that would help avoid any sticky-- well." To Leczuth, Taeliyth considers that too. This time there's no pleasure obvious. « Will you watch them for me when I don't want to? » It's an important question to ask, of the so far fabled eggs. The bronzerider's snort might be more indicative of his opinions of the former weyrleader's wing, but his mouth still sports a smile, just dulled for the moment. A'sran does not stop walking, even though his strides become less lengthy. His eyes rest on Dahlia, and there is a question lingering in them. "You cannot think I am that boorish. I would never talk about my affairs." His eyes flick forward. "And I am not blind nor deaf. Ka'ge is my wingmate and I have the utmost respect for him, and his privacy. I have no reason to believe anything shall be sticky." To Taeliyth, Leczuth's response is immediate and defensive. « Yes. » They are their eggs, and he will protect them at all costs. That possessiveness is imbued in his woodsy tones. "Never," Dahlia replies truthfully, with a small warm smile. "It just seemed right to mention. We don't have to mention it again." Easy, right? "Is tomorrow early? I have a meeting tonight that I think I'll want company after." So easy. Her requests or offers are always without expectation but not without hope. Now Taeliyth is very pleased. « Good. » That's all she needs to say. Easy. Leczuth and A'sran are the best! (To Leczuth from Taeliyth) It would be hard to tell what thoughts whirl behind his eyes this time, not when he stares with such blankness, half-lidded eyes, at the goldrider's face while they continue to stroll leisurely through the bowl. "Of course," he says, after a pause in the conversation, and follows it up with a smile and a jovial, "I would not want to disappoint the lady." |
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