Love That Tan [Reky]

Wing drills were not on Samael's list of favourite things. However, them being a daily occurrence, she had no choice but to bumble through them before she could get on with the rest of her life. At least she and Naireth were good wingriders - Naireth's quirky mind landed her with no choice but to follow orders to the tee - but that was part of the problem. Sometimes, Samael didn't see the point of practicing so often if they were already doing so well. She understood that some of the riders who had joined the Queen's wing recently might need more practice, but even if she had been used to the previously smaller size of the wing, Sam adjusted to the new additions quickly. Maybe if there was something fun about wing drills she would enjoy them more, but it just wasn't an option with Fajra as a wingleader.

At least today's drill had been in the morning, which left the rest of the day free. She had grabbed lunch already, and Naireth had eaten her weekly meal. Now, the young woman lounged on the shoreline while her dragon occupied herself somewhere out on the lake. Samael was more than content to spend the entire day doing nothing. Whatever little bit of motivation she had had earlier had been sucked dry by drills. The summer sun was warming the shallow edges of the weyrlake; she let the water lap up at her toes, watching the steady wax and wane of miniature tides. Her hands worked deftly at a twine bracelet. She was about halfway through, and had carved a round wooden bead to put on it once she was finished. She flexed her cramping hands and looked up.

Far off in the lake, she saw a tan dragon swimming, but it was not her Naireth. Rather, it was one of the new twins - the one bonded to the man. Q'sis and Unath - everyone knew their names. Samael's interest was instantly piqued; she had meant to properly meet the pair ever since she had seen them Impress at the hatching. Tans were a curious thing in the first place, dumb but large, and being the first tanrider, she felt some motherly joy every time a new one was born. There were four of them now, but it would have been five, she noted sadly. Oh well - Loto and Mabiath were probably having a great time, wherever they were now.

She rolled her pants and pulled her tunic over her head so she was just wearing a sleeveless shirt, meaning to join them in swimming, but Naireth beat her to it. The tan dragon rose out of the water in front Unath like some great daft sea monster. Largely blank eyes stared at the little speckled creature and her boy. Naireth wasn't exactly sure what to make of it. Head held high, she continued to ponder the small tan and small man, while a black firelizard popped out of between and perched on one of her headknobs. Balto creeled, stretching his little black wings. He loved being so up here! Existing so up! Up on Naireth! Oh, and down there, he saw some pinkish-brownish things. He loved those. They were having fun down there, and he found himself torn between being so down there and so up here. He chirped at them from his Naireth-perch, though, and settled for a long-distance conversation.

Samael was grinning as she waded and then swam through the water, her belongings left in a ragged pile on the beach. As she drew near her dragon, Naireth craned her neck around and snuffled at Samael's shoulder. A green tongue flicked out to lick the arrow wound scar there, visible due to the lack of sleeves. The tan always seemed to remember that day; it stuck in her protective mind as a reason to keeps Hers safe. Sam smirked and shoved Naireth's head away. Hey, Naireth. Hello, SamaelMine.

Then, Sam turned her smile to Q'sis and Unath, arm draped up around Naireth to keep herself afloat. Balto chirped again. "Hey," Samael chuckled.

Samael tried to remember if any of her brief romantic partners had ever had beards. Q'sis certainly did, but she wasn't sure if she was sold on it. She figured most of her teenage boyfriends had been too young to grow a full expanse of facial hair - they had been stuck in the gawky, three-beard-hairs phase, complete with raging hormones that Samael couldn't deny. She felt strange, though, comparing Q'sis to boys she couldn't even recall the names of. Still, she wasn't sure if she liked the beard. Mostly it was odd to see a bearded man with a subqueen dragon.

The mention of her name got a nod of acknowledgement. "Oh, Demeth? Yeah. She's still a baby, too. Faranth." Suddenly, she felt old with her graduated, two-and-a-half Turn old dragon. She almost felt like some sort of babysitter, watching over the younger tans as they grew up. Sure, there were many other weyrlings as well, but she couldn't help but focus on her Naireth's kin. Even watched Unath now made her glow a little. Q'sis helped the daft little thing tuck in her wings, and Samael recalled all the times she had to tell Naireth to do similar. Lift your wing, Naireth dear, I need to oil under there, too. Put all your legs down or you'll tip over. Luckily, the great beast followed instructions in a heartbeat, but she never had the smarts to do simply things that would be common sense to anyone else.

Then, the man before her brought up the scar on her shoulder, and instinctively her hand moved to rub it. "Yeah. Guess it has been..." It didn't exactly feel like the assassinations had been a Turn ago. She remembered it too clearly for it to have been that long. "Oh well." Naireth, rather than trying to pay attention to her rider's conversation, kept her eyes on Unath as the smaller tan paddled around her. She had nothing better to do. Watching the weyrling was as good a pastime as any. However, Naireth didn't seem particularly amused; as usual, she simply looked blank. Watching for the sake of watching. Balto, meanwhile, decided that all of the action was happening down at the height of the two-leggeds, and fluttered down to perch on Naireth's shoulder instead. There! Now he existent all down-here-like with the Samael and the blackish-faced one! He seemed content.

Now that Balto had taken up her usual spot on Naireth, Samael didn't have the awkward urge to sit up there instead. It would have been strange to be looking down upon Q'sis; that was never good for conversations. He had moved closer to her anyways, and moving backward would be rude. She could see him more clearly now - muscular and scarred. Attractive. When he grinned at her, she couldn't help but grin back.

"Aw, thanks," she said, rubbing Naireth's "fine-colored" hide. "I'm sure Naireth likes Unath, too." The dragon's dumbstruck expression, however, betrayed her indifferent confusion. To her, Unath was small, similarly colored to herself, and speckled. That was the extent of her thoughts on Unath, and they weren't even opinions. They were just simple observations. Samael shrugged. "Or maybe not. I'm sure if she thought a little harder, though, she would. Unath's adorable."

She gave Naireth's side an affectionate pat as she looked at Q'sis. "How are you holding up with all the publicity?" Probably half of Pern knew about the brand new 'male sub-queen rider,' and a good portion of that called 'Fort Weyr' was definitely frowning on it. She had gotten her fair share of fame, Naireth being the first tan ever to exist. The world had already been warmed up to mutation colors, though, so her case wasn't at all as controversial. At least Fort really only breathed down the Weyrwoman's neck, rather than the abnormalities themselves. It was better that way, because at least Fajra could deal with it.

His questioning echo was something she hadn't expected. She hadn't meant to offend with a compliment, but apparently, somehow she had. It came without repercussions, but she could still tell that Q'sis was less than enamored with the term. She honestly couldn't think of a better way to put it. Unath was a bumbling baby tan, cute as they came. It wasn't like she was a fierce warrior or a handsome male. She wasn't even like Naireth had been - a dragonet so fiercely focused on the few concepts she understood that she was like a well-trained guard, the sort that stood still and emotionless for hours. Naireth had never been willingly fun or cute. Still, Samael adored her to bits, and loved to tease her to the point of confusion.

But it was alright. Q'sis could describe his dragon as he liked and she could use the word 'adorable' as freely as she wanted. Naireth, head still held high above all the other half-submerged humans, was less content with the situation. She wasn't sure what to make of the weyrling clambering up her back end. It made no sense. Why would a dragon climb another dragon? She could understand Balto climbing her; she could never remember what sort of animal Samael said he was, but he was small enough that she barely felt him, so it was okay if he sat on her. It had even slipped her mind that he was on her shoulder right now. She was watching Unath, anyways.

Balto, on the other hand, seemed quite excited to see the spotted tanling creeping towards him. His eyes whirled bright greens of anticipation, and he chirped encouragment to Unath. She was brown! He liked brown things. Brown was good, especially pinkish-brown, or blackish-brown... or plain black, like him! The spotty brownish thing definitely wasn't black, but it was still brown, so he loved it. And it was coming to see him! He chirruped again. He couldn't wait! Then, she plopped into the water, and Balto was both intrigued and bewildered by the sound of the water. Wait, was it better to be down there, then? He did like it up here...

Samael couldn't hide her smile as she noted the draconic antics. Most of her attention remained on Q'sis, though, and she was glad to hear that he had nothing against the traces of negative energy directed at his strange Impression. From what she was learning about him in these few moments, though, it made sense. It didn't seem like much could get to him. He almost seemed distant... He was his own person, that was for sure. The comment about Dalibor had her nodding once in agreement. "True, true." Dalibor had a good atmosphere about it, especially for all the crazy things that happened.

Balto chirped as Unath fell again. Could brown things not climb? Not fly? He just flew up here, and it made perfect sense to him. Everyone seemed to be swimming, though, and he began to feel a little left out. Multiple pairs of eyes were watching Unath as she wiggled her way back to her man, Balto out of disappointment, Naireth out of blankness. The little weyrling took a moment to snap her head around to stare at Sam, and the woman grinned. There was far too much of Naireth in those wide eyes. "Hello," she said, chuckling, and watched as the tan went on her way again.

It is strange, SamaelMine, Naireth said, finally.

Her name is Unath, Samael provided. She's a tan, like you.

Remember that you are Naireth's, SamaelMine. There was a clear, protective edge to the dragon's voice. The fact that Unath had a rider already passed over her head, but even if she hadn't, she did not like the idea of Samael's affection passing to a poor excuse for her miniature self.

Of course I am, Samael replied affectionately, patting the tan's foreleg. She caught a sharp laugh halfway out her mouth as Q'sis was suddenly drenched in a combination of water and dragon's spit, and soon swam after the pair. Naireth stayed put, but Balto creeled and took wing, for he wanted to be included in the fun as well. When his owner slowed and supported herself with slow, sweeping movements of her arms and legs, he fluttered down and cemented himself to her neck and cheek.

Samael peeled him off. "Tell me about it. I'd probably still just be sitting around if I hadn't Impressed Naireth." Far behind her, the tan spread her wings slightly and lowered her lithe neck, floating aimlessly on the waves. Swimming was not so much a recreational activity as it was to pass the time where she had nothing else to do. "I didn't have any sort of back-up plan if candidacy didn't work out." She hadn't been sure what he had meant by being at 'this point twice,' but it was too tantalizing a lure to ignore. "So you've Impressed before?" she guessed, setting Balto down on the water like a toy boat.

At first, she had almost been telling herself it was just a firelizard he had Impressed. Anything else was obviously nonexistent at this time, which meant it had died. Samael wasn't sure she wanted to hear a story like that. Prying for someone's secrets was never really on her list of things to do, but the tale came regardless. She listened intently, eyes wide with sympathy. Then, however, her expression softened. She admired him. Not only did he have the bravery to admit it outright, but he had come to terms with his wher's death to the point where he need not dwell on it. It made her feel a little better about suddenly knowing this personal part of Q'sis' life.

She wasn't meant for him, though, was what he said. This earned a faint quirk of the woman's brow out of confusion. She wondered why - had he stolen the egg? Impressed from the stands? The explanation came soon enough, and Samael nodded solemnly. That made sense. She offered a quiet "Mmm," of understanding, but beyond that, said nothing. What did one say to that? Well, there were a great many comments she could have uttered, but she was worried she would offend him. It was a touchy subject.

As Q'sis lapsed into a conversation with his dragonet, Samael politely waited. These one-sided conversations were just a part of weyrlife; they were no longer awkward or unexpected. She smiled down at Balto, who seemed to enjoy floating along on the surface of the water. He was silent with content, unaware of the ill connection his presence had in Q'sis' mind, but when Unath ducked under the water, he chirped and wriggled away. The brown thing had left, so he figured that it would be best to go back to the bigger brownish thing. Lazy waves made his journey to Naireth slow, picking him up and dumping him back down again, but he didn't seem to mind.

He joined Naireth eventually, perching on the great lazing tan. Catching sight of his black form in her peripheral vision, she was largely nonplussed.

Dragonless and firelizardless, Samael mirrored Q'sis' smirk, though hers was more tentative. "Ah, well, I think your story was done," she said. "But hey. At least you have Unath now." She looked down at her arms, sweeping back and forth just below the water's surface. Back, forth, back, forth, keeping herself afloat. She chuckled a little at her own expense. "If only I had something personal to dish out, so I could hold up my end of the conversation. There's not much to tell."

"Uneventful, yes," she chuckled. "Dutiful... well, I tried, at least." Her tone implied her previous lack of direction. Sure, she had wanted to be useful, she had just never been sure how. Candidacy had fallen into her lap without any warning and she had leapt at it like a starved wher to food. What else would she have done? Made amateur floss bracelets for a living? Sat for a living? Oh well. At least Q'sis wasn't looking down on her for her pointless teenhood. In fact, he seemed to be praising it, which confused her.

His following suggestions confused her even more. "Tell me about the Western Continent" or "tell me about your childhood" would have been natural enough, if a little bold, but the specificity that Q'sis provided with his ideas were something she wasn't expecting. What, did he think she needed such specific guidelines for what to talk about? She wasn't Naireth or Unath - she could think for herself. Briefly, she was offended by it and found herself finding his beard significantly less attractive, but then memories started spawning from his prompts. She quirked an awkward smile inwardly, shrugged off any feelings of indignation, and decided to roll with it.

"Hmmm." Her eyes drifted upward to the crisp blue sky as she thought. Dredging up memories of Crescent Hold was harder than she thought; she hadn't been there very long. "Crescent Hold is... well, I don't know. It was alright, while it lasted. I got Searched pretty soon after moving there. Mostly I remember it smelling... new. You know how old holds are - they smell like earth and mold from having been there so long. Crescent didn't. It smelled like the sea and mountains, and my room smelled like old people. I shared it with my grandparents." She laughed. "They're nice, though. I've always liked grandma and gramps.

"Anyways, mostly I just see Crescent from dragonback now. Routine sweeps over the holds in wings and all. It looks nice, I guess, but it's sort of like I'm not really there. It just looks like a painting from so high up." Another long moment was taken for her to think. A strand of her dragonrider-short hair had dried enough to come free of the slicked-back mass of the rest and tilted into her face. She ducked under the water briefly to smooth it all back.

"I knew Southern Boll better, obviously," she continued. "Born there, raised there, um... Hmm. I liked the forest there. See, just down the foothills, there was this wood... Most of the trees were spindly. Awful for climbing. Sometimes, though, you'd find one that was great for it... Big and strong. The boys and I almost built a fort up in one once, but we realized we didn't really know how to build anything. A lot of us were weavers' kids, after all. We knew how fold bolts and mend our own stupid pants." She couldn't help but laugh. She had gone through so many pairs of trousers as a kid, ripping them on bushes or simply wearing out the knees.

"Shells, I should visit... I've just been so busy, getting ready for the Pass." Samael frowned slightly. "I haven't seen my little sis in ages." Suddenly, she felt like a bad sister. She had always been around before she moved to Crescent, and now she was a rider and visiting home kept slipping her mind. Being busy would always be foreign to her - even after two whole Turns of having Naireth at her side.

Sensing the negative feelings Hers put off, though not being able to decipher what specific feelings they were, Naireth offered a soothing rumble from across the lake.

Samael bristled. First he had seen fit to question her intelligence, if indirectly and possibly unintentionally, and now he was insulting Southern Boll's headwoman. He was a trader, though, so she forgave him for being so ignorant about holds. She had known Boll's headwoman - she was a great woman, as wide and imposing as a dragon but the best at her job. Everyone always knew what to do and how to do it because the headwoman paid attention to every single staff member. The musty smell as Boll was, indeed, a result of its age. Q'sis could turn into stone and sit around for ten intervals and ten passes and see how he smelled.

She let his comment pass, though, being the bigger man about the issue. She wasn't insulting anyone. She wasn't even insulting Q'sis. Even if her inner boyish tendencies wanted to challenge him, she kept calm. She was the full-fledged rider here - he was just some weyrling with a beard. It was a mighty fine beard, she would admit, but the man it was attached to was slowly getting on her nerves. His chauvinism reared is unattractive head again as he expressed his surprise at her having had male companions.

"Because they were my friends," she said simply. "When I was young, that is. Later on, I saw them as potential husbands." Q'sis would probably approve of that, not that it was entirely true. She saw them as means of a good time - marriage had not yet crossed her mind when she was a teenager. Now, as a dragonrider, it seemed absurd. "Yeah, I think she wanted to go into the weavercraft. The weaver hall was at Boll, so it was convenient for her to stay. She didn't feel up to leaving mom and dad, either." As she spoke, Q'sis had lapsed into another private conversation with his dragon. There was a certain way people looked when their focus was inside their head, rather than in front of them.

When he spoke again, Samael blinked. Oh, so now he was underestimating her? Putting her to low standards? As he swam away, she wrinkled her nose. What a pig, she tossed at Naireth, who raised her head to peer at the woman. She sensed Samael's distress. I will protect you, SamaelMine, she said.

No, no, it's alright, Samael said, and he dragon calmed down again. She didn't need her daft tan bumbling into this. She could show Q'sis all by herself. In fact, she took his words as a challenge, more than anything. If he thought a person who had been a rider for two Turns didn't know how to swim, he was wrong. She had been doing the whole "oh, I have to check my dumb dragon, she swam out to the middle" routine way longer than he had. What had he done before then? Walked around and rode some ponies? She snorted. She could very well swim to the middle of the lake - that was simple.

She swam after him with ease, and once they had reached Unath, she popped over onto her back and floated placidly. "I can swim, you know," she said, offering him a smile.

He hadn't been listening to her. That almost bothered her. She had wanted a better reaction to her smug comment. She had wanted him to either explain why he had doubted her abilities, or that it wasn't what he had meant by it, or something, but instead her simply stated a simple observation. The smile that came with it, though, was unexpected and calmed her down some. Q'sis confused her. For all of his awful comments, he was a nice guy. It fit oddly in her head.

"I did," she said, smiling back, and then nodded as he announced his brief departure. Samael remained on the surface of the water, waiting for the man to come back up, with or without his little tan. Q'sis was still mildly irritating - but she realized that she would think the same of anyone with viewpoints that conflicted with hers. Even if it was a woman who preached feminism and denounced males, she would have a hard time accepting their comments as they came. Q'sis was a trader, anyways. Maybe trader caravans were just strange places to be, far too traditional to be able to coincide with the progressive attitude of weyrs. If she had been raised as a trader, she would be one of Q'sis' fabled, demure, wimpy little women, too.

Still, even if she had reached an understanding, she wanted to push his buttons. Maybe even prove him wrong in his patriarchal assumptions. At least he was still a nice guy - he just had a few unfair, insulting views. It wasn't anything she couldn't deal with. She was a big girl.

Sam floated lazily, conserving her energy. He was both attractive - with that beard and those smiles - and irritating, which was a strange and intriguing mix. It was almost like a game to see if he could act largely normal, or if he would pull out another comment that rubbed her the wrong way. He didn't mean to insult her, she figured, which meant that she had no reasons to punch his lights out. He meant well, he just meant it in a poor way. Samael smirked and waited for her company to return.

"I know how that is," Samael said. Naireth had a mind only for rigid things - rules, traditions and vows. Everything else got lost somewhere in her head. As much as Samael would have liked to speak softly to her dragon and value her opinion, she knew that she needed a strong hand with Naireth. Otherwise, the dragon would not respond. 'Do you want to go to the lake now?' was a question rarely asked. It was always, 'We are going to the lake,' firm and decisive, and Naireth never argued. Out of the corner of her eye, Sam could see the giant tan dragon floating aimlessly.

With both dragons off on their own, the two riders were left to balance themselves on the water. Samael would sink a few fingerwidths each time she exhaled, only to rise back up when her lungs were filled again. The world sounded strange with ears half submerged, and Q'sis' voice sounded dream-like and strange through the water. Still, she heard him, and was reminded of her teen self's noncommittal ways.

"Weaving and I never really hit it off," she said. "I knew a bit, sure, but I just took general housework lessons... Jack of all trades, master of none sort of deal. I spent a lot of time with children, though. If I hadn't been Searched, I probably would have settled on being a crecheworker." Her smile, like Q'sis', was directed skyward by default. She had liked having the weaverhall around. He was right - Weavers tended to be kind. There were the few odd ones out who hated everything except the loom, but mostly, they had been nice people. It was a craft of patience and care. "All this weaving talk is making me homesick," she chuckled. She really would have to check with Fajra and see if she could take some time off wing drills to visit family.

The right things? Samael mulled that over. She didn't know what was 'right' about housework or babysitting. It was just... regular. It wasn't particularly noble. It didn't rake in the marks. She hadn't even been particularly good at the former, and the latter was the only one she had any passion for. She supposed, though, that Q'sis' comment had been looser than that. She valued what she liked and didn't run after certain crafts just because they paid better. It was probably just that she had hobbies befitting of her gender. Oh, if only he knew about the broken noses she'd caused when she was young...

It was only when he mentioned 'home' that she realized she had wholly meant Southern Boll and not Dalibor. As much as she loved Naireth and as much as she was loyal to the Weyr, on most occasions her residence here felt more like an extended vacation or boarding school, rather than a home. Naireth kept her busy. Wing drills kept her busy. There were few besides Belphegor that Samael was truly attached to. Southern Boll held all her family, all her childhood friends, and therefore held her definition of 'home.' She didn't exactly feel bad for not feeling as loving of Dalibor, but it was a curious fact that held her interest. In reply to Q'sis, she offered a soft and content 'hmm.'

Her eyes remained on the few wispy clouds in the blue sky. She caught a peripheral glimpse of Naireth again and reached out with her mind. The dragon reached back, extending her blank thoughts. You can sun on the beach if you'd like, Samael said, noticing how indifferent the tan was towards swimming. Naireth showed no sign of decisive movement and sent a simply reply back to her rider. When you wish to leave the lake, I will follow. At first, Samael almost felt bad about that. Her dragon was waiting on her and her conversation. Then, she felt the genuine indifference in Naireth's mind. The tan couldn't care less how long Sam took.

Q'sis spoke again after a while and though he did not use Naireth's name at first, Samael knew that he was talking about her before he clarified. "Stupid?" she said, forcing out the term that she was so reluctant to use. "I know what it's like. You don't want to call them that, even if it's true... It's such a bad word. Maybe they don't think for themselves all that well - oh, and yes, I do. I tell her all the time. Naireth responds to commands, not questions. But she's always ready to follow anything... rules, orders, tradition. She would never speak out against a Queen. Never disobey our wingleader. Never disobey me, even." She trailed off, uncertain of how to speak of her dragon. It always made her sound like some obedient canine.

"She loves me, though." Samael took a deep breath, lifting herself up higher on the water's surface. "When I Impressed, she saved me. Gold Couineth had me on the menu, I guess, and suddenly... there she was. In between me and Cou. Tans are... well, you have to have one to know them, you know? Naireth is the most hard-working, devoted dragon I know." There was a decisive smile on her sunlit face. "She's not stupid. Not really."

Naireth had little worry to spare for Unath's antics. She knew that her size outmatched that of the tiny creature, though she was still uncertain what to think of the hatchling. Naireth knew that she herself was a tan, but Unath was far grayer and dappled. How could she be a tan as well? They were too different. And she was too small. She was probably related to Balto, Naireth supposed, and let her tug all she wanted. She did not, however, humor Unath by pretending to be pulled by the little tan. She simply stayed put. As long as Unath was not tugging on Samael, Naireth didn't care.

The rider, unfettered by any playful dragonets, listened to her male counterpart. It seemed to be a trend in tans that they obeyed commands, or at least trusted their riders enough to always listen to them. It seemed true for Naireth and Unath, and Mabiath had not been terribly devious, but she could not speak for Demeth or Mith. It was a good trait to have, though. Even just the idea of a rebellious dragon tired her - she doubted she could deal with the stress. Naireth came largely stress-free. Sometimes she limited Samael in her lazy ways; if anyone had told Naireth to be somewhere or do something, all hope for a nap was lost.

Oddly enough, she rarely thought about being in a higher wing. Q'sis' brought it up, however, and the idea of being so high off the ground with such a huge dragon was strange. "We're in the Queen's wing," she said, relief in her voice. "Lowest one. They like to keep the clutchers safe. I'm definitely fine with that." A light chuckle came from her. She was definitely appreciative of the added safety. Even if she was a dragonrider, she very much valued her own skin, perhaps even more than saving the crops and holders below.

"Wrong? How?" That worried her. She had only seen Mith hatch and nothing really beyond that. The twin had been shy, but she hadn't seemed ill or disabled. "I just... I haven't met Valha and Mith yet. I mean to, but I'm often busy and weyrlings almost always are, too." She could understand why Valha might have been irritated by Q'sis. He didn't always say the most accepting things, and Samael knew that if someone tried to tell her how to raise Naireth, she would have been upset. Still, Q'sis might have had good reason for concern.

"Well... I'm not sure," she said. "Based on her size, she might, but she just... doesn't act like any of the other queens. I can't imagine her clutching, but that doesn't mean it won't happen." She supposed Naireth would be incredibly protective of her eggs as she was protective of her rider, but that assumed Naireth would know what the eggs were. Samael imagined her laying them in exactly the wrong place, unaware that it was not some unfortunate inconvenience and instead held growing dragonets.

She listened, then, to the difficulties with Mith. She wasn't sure what to think of it. She knew that tans had their downsides. As Q'sis had said, they rarely learned. At first, Samael had tried to show Naireth how to think for herself, to make decisions beyond when to protect Hers, but it never got through. Naireth had no desire to change. It was admirable to be so content with oneself despite numerous, glaring flaws, but it made life tricky. Mith sounded like she was in a bad spot. Born shy and frightened, but also with the rigid, empty mind of her colour. She had yet to meet Valha, but already she felt sorry for her. Living with such a debilitated dragon could not have been easy.

"Sometimes we had shy, jumpy children in the creches," Samael said. "They didn't want much to do with anything else. I noticed, though, that having someone to show them about, someone they could relate to, really helped. This one boy, he refused to do anything the other crecheworkers suggested. 'Go play,' they'd say, and he'd just shake his head. But then this little girl came along, about his age, and she was able to get him to play." She smiled slightly at the memory. "It takes a village to raise a child," she quoted in a stuffy voice. Then, more casually, "Sounds like Mith needs to get out more."

She tilted her head slightly to have a better glimpse of Naireth, but the dragon was largely in the same place, not having made any efforts to swim anywhere. Unath was still on her tail. "But tans... It's like they don't change," she sighed. "All Naireth did was get bigger. So I don't know if anything would help Mith. I haven't even met her or Valha, so I really shouldn't be talking."

Samael was fine with leaving. She had no lingering desire to stay in the water - she had cool off enough and her desire for recreational swimming was replaced with the desire for conversation. Interesting conversation, to be exact, and that was what this talk with Q'sis was turning out to be. On the way to figuring the man out, the topic had managed to become intriguing and intellectual, and she liked that. She disliked, however, how pruney her fingers were becoming, and was about ready to come out of the lake anyways.

She swam after Q'sis and eventually found herself on the shore, watching Naireth slowly come in while Q'sis dressed and stroked his Unath. Samael's dragon padded up out of the water, towering over the other three but plain in her movements. She settled down on the beach, water rolling off her recently-oiled hide, and folded her wings against her back. She looked sedately at her rider. True to her word, when Sam had left the water, Naireth had followed. She could best protect the woman if she did not have to swim all the way across the lake, not that she was terribly suspicious of Q'sis anymore. Her eyes briefly passed over the man, empty and uninterested, before gazing out over the weyr. Balto rested in the crook of her forearm.

Samael was increasingly content to simply listen to Q'sis. She knew of what he spoke. Anything she told Naireth to do, the dragon did. Even if she could not control the tan's body as if it were her own, it was a similar concept. The two tans were equally free to suggestion. To commands. Where Naireth reacted best to firm words, it seemed Unath reacted to feelings and thoughts. The two tans kept sounding more and more similar. Samael felt confusion from Naireth, though - the differences in hue, markings and size were too overwhelming for the dragon to even consider being akin to Unath.

Sam watched the idle interactions between the other tanpair. "I hope she'll figure it out," she said. "Not everyone knows their dragon that well right away, I guess. I figured Naireth out pretty quickly." It wasn't as though the dragon was particularly complex. "I guess I was lucky." She considered mentioning to Chelo that she would be willing to give Valha tips, if Valha wanted any. Perhaps she would react better to someone with more experience and of the same gender? Something felt wrong about telling someone how to deal with their own dragon, though. That was personal. Maybe she wouldn't talk to Chelo after all.

The beginning of phrase caught her attention. She looked questioningly at Q'sis. "Do I want to what?" Then she caught the new expression on his features and added, "Oh, well, you don't have to say it if you don't want to." She shrugged. Even if she was curious, she could live without it.