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Post by Row on Sept 20, 2014 20:26:57 GMT
Tag: slush/Navelon
Duncan listened intently as Navelon spoke. He forced himself to mentally say each name, while running his eyes over where he had pointed for each bone. It was much like working with machines, only there was blood and muscle under the flesh not gears and metal. Either way, he was focused in on the parts of the wing that when he felt something twine around his leg, he jumped a little and almost fell back into the water. "Ye litle beastie! Who de devil do ye belong tae?" he asked, hearing Adhainn's wing beats above his head. It seemed his little lassie had felt his slight spike in fear and come to his aid. Reaching up, he waved her away, while looking down at the wee little thing that someone had told him was a sea serpent . . . another bonded pet.
Now, Duncan was no stranger to snakes, something he was use to as a child, but as an adult, he had been more inclined to forcably remove anything that touched his thigh, as this little laddie did. And he would have, had he not looked down first before acting on instinct to reach down and grab hold, hard, of whatever had touched him. "Ye need tae be careful, little one . . . I donae dink anyone wants tae be steppin' on ye while ye be swimmin' around down dere," he grinned at the sea serpent, still not sure who it belonged to.
When the Weyrling Mistress called for everyone to step back while her dragon went under, Duncan stepped back in the water. His eyes went to the young woman that had been the object of their Weyrling Mistress' scolding. He noticed something was a bit . . . funny with the lassie before in the shuttle, but he wasn't a real good judge of women to begin with, so he had left it alone. Now, standing almost waist deep in water, his toes sinking in mud, he could only smile as the young woman would be forced to get dirty or risk not being able to Stand. Once he had been shown how to oil the dragon, he got to work. "How long have ye been a Candidate, Navelon?" he asked.
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Post by slush on Sept 20, 2014 22:03:46 GMT
((Tag: Theodore, Lenara))
Amelia couldn't help but let her shoulders sag in disappointment, but she wouldn't argue with Lenara. "Yes, ma'am," she said, careful to keep her voice even. She was quite cheered when the woman's amethyst companion settled daintily on her uninjured shoulder. She didn't even flinch from the unexpected sensation of taloned limbs against. Thankfully the fire lizard knew not to grip to hard, she noted appreciatively.
And there was her brother, as full of concern for her as she was for him. "I'm all right, Teddy," she insisted as she settled herself on the ground. "You mind your shoulder, now. Is Serenity doing okay?" Her blue gaze darted around, seeking the fiery red hair that made her sister easily stand out amongst the Pernese. She smiled at her brother's pet as Kestrel arranged herself. Well, if she couldn't help wash the dragon, she could at least make an excellent fire lizard perch!
"You'd better get back to helping," the woman said, somewhat enviously. She squeezed Theodore's arm, though, and grinned at him. "Come find me later, though, so you can tell me anything I missed?"
As her brother's attention returned to the Weyrlingmaster, she turned her gaze on Kaira long enough to wave before tuning into Lenara. She saw Aura, also bedecked with firelizards. She'd heard Aura wouldn't be allowed to Stand, though--that had to be difficult.
A niggling fear tingled at the back of her mind. Lenara had seemed dismissive of the Healers opinion. What if Lenara tried to keep her from standing? She frowned, sharply cutting off the thought. Surely she wouldn't? The injury was well-healed and the infection gone. They dressings would even be removed tomorrow, if the Healers liked the look of her stitches tonight. It would be fine, Amelia firmly told herself. Now she just had to attend to the rider's words.
"Excuse me," she called from her position on the shore. "But how will we know how much is too much? Is there a set amount a hatchling needs, or will we just know because we're...Impressed?"
((Tag: Duncan))
Navelon stepped hastily away from Iabureth as she prepared to dunk. He certainly didn't want to be swamped. He was about to take his brush and bucket and set it on the shore when Duncan's surprised exclamation interrupted him. He looked down, too. "Oh, Merc. You can't just climb all over people!" Navelon scolded the Silver as he reached down and deftly unwound him from the other Candidate's leg. "Sorry about Merc. He's quite friendly." At the moment, the serpent was chittering his annoying at his human, twisting around to better look at the mechanic. "Shush, you," he said, for Lenara had begun speaking once more. He dropped the complaining creature unceremoniously into the now-damp pouch on his arm. The Silver quieted.
"I'll tel you one thing," he told Duncan once they were released to work once more, "Oiling might be messy, but it's good for the skin. Helps keep it soft, just like it does the dragon's." He squelched toward the shore, plodding toward the drying Aquamarine and grabbing a bucket of oil. Once again, he positioned himself alongside Duncan. The vigorous, rhythmic motion required to polish Iabureth's hide to its glossiest sheen comforted him as he spoke of things past. "Well," he answered the other man, "I was a Candidate once turns ago, when I was twelve. Back then I was left standing. I could've stayed on at Igen Weyr and tried again, but I took it hard. I apprenticed in the Farmcraft instead. Now I'm a Journeyman, but I'm back to try one last time because really, I can't imagine any life I'd rather have than a dragonrider's, Craft or no." He spoke with sincere intensity, for one inclined toward pranks. "What made you choose it? I imagine many of the people from your world would probably be afraid to stand before a bunch of starving-senseless creatures that could snap them like twigs." Many Pernese feared it, too, in fact. Navelon himself never understood it, but perhaps that was because he was weyrbred.
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Post by summerrain on Sept 20, 2014 22:24:08 GMT
Oh, the girl was talking to her. Lenara gave Iabureth a pat before sliding down, then walked over to Amelia. "I respect the healers, I know quite a few people who would not be alive today without their help," she clarified. "However, as I am going to be the one teaching all of you until a Candidatemaster is chosen, or until you Graduate from being Weyrlings, I want to make sure that nothing goes wrong." She looked in the direction of the crash site.
"I went by a few days ago. All of you have lost so much already," she added, turning back to look at Eternity. "That girl in particular, from what the rescue squad told me. But she still smiles." She looked away, not really sure where this feeling was coming from. "You off-worlders don't know how hard life here can be. Each person, Rider or otherwise, was assigned here for a specific reason." She sighed and ran her fingers through her loose hair. "What I'm trying to say is that it's my job to make sure that you all have the best prospects of making it through Hatching day. The Healers may have cleared you, but I'm going to look at it just to be sure. I don't want anything going wrong on Hatching Day."
Oh, wait... The question had been about the food. "As for feeding your Hatchling, as long as you make sure to feed them slowly, you will be able to tell when he or she begins to get full," she explained. "It's really all said between Dragon and Rider through the mental connection that we share. And, well, it's a bit hard to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it."
_________
Eternity overheard the Pernese boy and the man from the ship, and she turned and started to talk to them as well. "I'm not surprised you came back," she told the boy, smiling softly. "But I thought that most young Candidates tended to be left Standing for a few Turns, just because their personalities are still developing." She walked over and dipped her hands in the bucket of oil, working it into the Aquamarine's hide. At his last comment, her eyes darkened, and her hands stilled.
"Compared to what happened a month ago, that doesn't sound so scary," she muttered, avoiding eye contact. She kept her eyes on the blue hide before her. She didn't say anything else about it; she still didn't like talking about her sister. Even though she'd named her little Lapis Siren, her nickname for her now dead older sister... It didn't help that much. But the combination of Lucy and Siren had done a bit to help. Maybe Impression would help even more.
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Post by slush on Sept 21, 2014 1:07:44 GMT
Amelia was quite intrigued about the nature of the relationship between dragon and rider. Since Lenara wasn't giving further instruction while everyone was busy oiling Iabureth, she pressed the topic eagerly. "So you feel it? Do you always feel what your dragon feels, or only when their emotions are extreme? Do they feel what you feel as well? What about when you're asleep?" In her quest for knowledge, she didn't seem to realize she was pelting the poor woman with questions. But her eyes sparkled with interest, and her disappointment at being left out of the "messy work" was now forgotten.
As she spoke, she idly stroked the two firelizards perched on her shoulder and knee. She probably looked quite ridiculous, but she was absorbed in the subject of Impression. She'd devoured the books that were supposedly about Pern, but the bond between a rider and his dragon was not clearly elucidated in the novels. She only knew that it was life-changing and all-consuming, pretty much. Still, she was the type of girl who liked concrete, clear definitions. If some major change was going to take place inside of her, she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Amelia also wanted to ask what the dragons looked for in a partner, but if the books were to be believed, even Lenara as a rider wouldn't be able to tell her.
It was all very intricate and mystifying and magnetic.
A girl he didn't know chimed in in response to him. Navelon looked up with a half-smile. "Most do, until they Impress or grow too old. Once you've been exposed to the magic of Impression, it's kind of a hard thing to forget." He thought about Eternity's next comment. "I suppose that's true enough. That's one reason why older Candidates are favored now. They're more mature, their identities more solid. I'm hoping that will be the case for me this time around." He turned his attention to a particularly stubborn patch of Iabureth's hide, really digging in with the heel of his hand.
There was something strained about her voice when Eternity spoke again; he looked up. Tragedy shadowed her face. "I suppose that's true," he said, his voice heavy with quiet sympathy. "Tragedy can happen anywhere. I'm sorry for the one that brought you all here, but I hope that you will find life here to be pleasant. If it helps, consider this: if the crash hadn't happened, there may be dragons from this clutch that would never be born. The Weyr is buzzing with gossip that your presence awakened the dormant eggs, and even if that isn't true, some of those Hatchlings who will find lifemates in the Earthborn would otherwise have betweened." He wasn't sure if what he said would cheer Eternity at all, but he felt he had to say something.
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