Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Feb 5, 2013 18:05:50 GMT -5
*Dated to 3 days prior to the gather*
Grimly, F’reki surveyed the massive, shallow bowl Girieth had carved out near the lake, the soil inside reduced to a dense, gloopy sludge, perfect for this lesson. He himself had his pants rolled up to his knees, mud staining them and everything below – out in the mud itself, there stained but colorful ribbons, anchored to the bottom of the mud pit by stones, popped out all over.
In one hand, F’reki loosely held a handful of blindfolds. “Call them, Giri.”
The blue, hovering over his rider, tapped the old Weyrlingmaster on the head lightly with his chin before calling out to their class, Lifelovers! Come to your Weyrlingmaster. It is time for a very important lesson. Wear clothing that you…would not mind having to retire. Permanently.
F’reki really didn’t have long to wait for the most part, eyeballing his class stoically as they wandered in beside their dragonets singly and in groups, walking over to each one to inspect their clothing and hand them a blindfold as they arrived. When his last headcount had everyone in attendance, he cleared his throat for their attention, ignoring the amused weyrfolk beginning to assemble – obviously others remembered the last time F’reki was playing with mud.
“Weyrlings! Today we are having a lesson which had better stick with you! This is a lesson about listening – something which some of you have proved to have a problem with. Admittedly, this time it is about listening to your dragon, but the point still stands.”
He waved one hand at the mud pit, “Out there, there are five ribbons for each of you, each of them matching your dragon in color. To be doubly sure, I have written your dragon’s name on each ribbon. Your task will be to put on your blindfolds and venture into the mud while your dragon waits here around the pit. Your dragon will direct you to the ribbons. You will hold each ribbon up, allow your dragon to examine it, at which point, if it belong to you, you tuck it in your belt. If it does not belong to you, you have two choices: Drop it for one of your fellows to find, or wear it openly so you can either give it to the proper person, or allow them to see it and try to take it back.”
Only now did F’reki start grinning. “Blindfolds on, children, and get in the mud. You have twenty minutes; anyone with less than five ribbons gets to help fill in the mud pit.”
Once blindfolds started going on, F’reki hotfooted it over and caught Iroh gently by the elbow, leaning down to speak to her quietly, “If you and Valeath start having trouble, let me know. I have an alternate exercise in place if it becomes necessary, but I have faith that you’ll do fine.”
OOC: Feel free to plan together over handoffs, tripping, and fights - also feel free to leave open ended things happening! Your human half of your pair is blindfolded, after all!
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Ruin
Wingrider
ruinct[M:-786]
We build the worlds we wouldn't mind living in
Posts: 1,137
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Post by Ruin on Feb 5, 2013 20:23:11 GMT -5
I’m so big, you can ride me soon!
”I think not, darling,” Iroh replied offhandedly as she went through her wardrobe. The carved monstrosity had been delivered, much to her dismay, not long after Impression, and it was full of most—if not all—of her clothing that she had owned at Benden. There were probably new pieces inside from her sisters and mother, but she hadn’t spent much time perusing the colourful choices of fabric. Until now that is. With the Midsummer Gather looming, Irohvyne knew she would need to arrive dressed properly—and not by Dragonrider standards. Certainly her father would make the trip to ensure the Weyr wasn’t starving his overweight daughter in an attempt to make her ready for fighting Threadfall. They weren’t, and he would be surprised to discover that fact, but it was possible he would assume she looked thinner just to give him a reason to fuss over her. Perhaps, this time, her mother would be there as well.
We will fly one day, Iroh, I’m so excited, and we’re going to go to the stars, okay? I saw them, remember, before I found you. And after, and every night since then, and the silver stuff. The growing dragon was hopping around the room, alternating between chasing her tail and chasing Sine, her sunrise-hued hide illuminated in the glowlight from the fresh coat of oil that had only just been applied to her; which was why she wasn’t lounging on the couch. Not that she ever spent much time lounging. The deaf firelizard was a willing participant in her playtime, although in the beginning Iroh had needed to step in and chide the both of them for making a ruckus that disturbed some of the other Weyrlings; it wasn’t exactly their fault. Valeath had caught the flitter unexpected, and he had screamed, but now they managed to play together without much fuss.
Valeath was slender, lanky even, and Irohvyne didn’t think she would ever lose that aspect of herself. Then again, the other resident Yellow was quite…voluptuous, not unlike herself. Inwardly, she waited for the day when someone might remark that Jazz and Iroh had been miss-matched to their dragons: It would probably be Q’sis who said it, too. The dragon paused, forelegs flat on the ground, pulling her expanding chest to the cool worn stone floor of her lair, her pointed rump arched high as the developing thickness of her tail lashed at the air with uncontainable excitement. She was, for all intents and purposes, getting ready to pounce; but her pounce was vastly different from that of the housefelines ladies favoured. All in one movement, the dragon lurched up onto her long hind legs, stretching up to her full standing height as she reached after the evasive firelizard.
Iroh watched her for a moment longer, watched the slender wings—still short in her youth—stretching out to maintain the tilt of her body to the sides even as her tail kept her forequarters from pitching her face-first into the floor, and then she called the Yellow back to the present moment. ”Don’t fall over, darling, I’ve only just finished oiling you, at least let it soak in before you shed another layer,” and when she turned back to the bulging flow of finery she finished with an offhanded ”overnight.” The hatchling never seemed to stop growing. She wasn’t even a hatchling anymore, technically. It was midsummer, it’d been a month and two sevendays since the hatching, but her growth was exponential and amazing to a woman who was more qualified to judge the growth of her nephews. I won’t! I love you, Iroh, I would never ruin your work! You keep my skin feeling so…not itchy! Oh, oh, look, look who it is! Hello, hello, hello, Shalith, I am Valeath. Can you hear me today?
Swinging away from the wardrobe, Iroh offered her friend a bright smile, which faltered briefly when she was informed about what she had missed. Briefly she looked back to Valeath, but the dragon was already off in her excitement, mentally at least. Oooh a lesson, how did you know? I wish I had known. I do now, but, ooh how did you find out, you are so smart! She had already wiggled her way over to the smaller Blue, beside herself with expressing all of her happiness and excitement, and oh! She loved Shalith so much, even if he never seemed quite certain about her and even if he couldn’t answer her, and couldn’t speak to her, she just knew that he was wonderful, because he was Sian’s, and Sian was wonderful, and she knew that for sure, because Sian had been inside Iroh when she had found her, and everything that was inside Iroh, well she knew about it. So it was all just so wonderful.
Valeath wiggled her little claws at Shalith while Iroh did her best to follow Sian’s advice, which she guessed was the advice of the Weyrlingmaster, and pick out something that she could ruin. She really, really, didn’t want to wear trousers. If she did, they’d only highlight all of the disgusting parts of herself that she didn’t want to see, much less allow other people to see, but…what if she fell, and her skirts flew up. In the end, before she was ready, she had changed into a pair of leather trousers, but wore a light set of leather work skirts over them: Surely this would protect her decency, and prevent anyone from seeing anything they shouldn’t. Leather could be washed clean easily too, and she had plenty of leather work boots donated by her brothers, probably, that had arrived with the clothes so…and she sighed…this would have to be it.
Sian led the way out to the common room, and Valeath followed, chattering the whole way to Shalith do you think we’ll do well, oh I know you’ll do well, and I know Iroh will do well, I bet I will do well too, and oh, oh, hello, HELLO. Iroh tried to offer Kai a brave smile, but it probably failed, because when it came to making a spectacle out of herself in front of an entire class of her peers, confidence was not her strongest suit—even if she was going to put on a brave face and do her best. When they arrived at the…mud hole…F’reki had mysteriously created, Iroh’s worries only multiplied. However this was going to go, it was going to probably end horribly—for her, and for Valeath. She tried to avoid the Weyrlingmaster’s eyes when he handed her the blindfold, pretending the mud pit was the most interesting thing she had ever seen—lest he tell her to remove her skirts—but it was all for naught, because apparently he had words for her.
When F’reki began to speak, she was both pleased, and at the same time embarrassed. Iroh knew it wasn’t meant to single her out, and he really hadn’t, he approached her in a way that spoke of a few helpful words, perhaps about her dress—not her dragon. Yet, did it even matter? Surely the entire class knew about Valeath. All of the Healers did at this point, why not the Herdercrafters as well? Anyone who could sound off with advice for the seemingly stunted dragonet had been approached, questioned, and strung-out in ‘marks-long sessions of interrogation. Probably even Q’sis himself, then again, he didn’t seem disgusted in her as he could be for various worthless things, so perhaps in some small victory the man was not aware of Valeath’s difficulties. Smiling bravely at her Weyrlingmaster, Irohvyne nodded: She thought they would do quite well, Valeath never seemed to stop talking, and it wasn’t as if the growing dragon was required to show her anything. Or feel her. Turning to the Yellow, Iroh offered her a bright smile.
”Okay, darling,” she began, pressing close to her dragon’s shoulder to leech comfort from the burning heat that seemed to radiate from the young creature. ”I am going to go in there, blindfolded. You see the fluttering colourful ribbons? We want the ones that look like you,” her lips pursed momentarily, and then she reached up to pull the slender head of her dragon into her arms. ”Only I may go in, and I’m going to be unable to see, so you have to tell me, inside, where they are. Can you lead me to them, darling?” Valeath considered her human, the colour in her eyes pooling along the edges of the facets that made up the glowing orb, and then she snorted through her delicate nares. Yes. I understand. You are going to get all of the yellow ribbons, and I am going to help. We can do this easily, I talk to you all the time!
When the dragon began laughing, a honking wheeze that came out through her nasal cavity, Iroh couldn’t help but laugh as well before fastening the blindfold around her head. Well. They’d just have to try wouldn’t they? So when F’reki made the call, Iroh wasted no time. Valeath accompanied her to the edge of the mud, and Iroh used the slender—yet powerful—neck of her dragon to help lower her steps into the sucking muck, ensuring she had her footing before letting go. ”Okay,” she breathed, more for herself than her dragon, and she set off towards the ribbon that had appeared nearest to her when she looked out at the mud. You’re doing so well, yes, you are almost there, ooh ooh, someone….someone…SOMEONE IS NEAR YOU, GO FASTER I—ROH, YOU’RE ALMOST THERE, REACH FOR IT, IT’S RIGHT…NO….UHH UHHH THE OTHER, THE OTHER, THE WINGSIDE, IROH THE, NO THE OTHER, YES YES YES
By this point the Yellow was up on her hind legs, hopping up and down in place onto the base of her tail while honking happily much like her mother’s sister was prone to do. She was so proud of her Iroh—and, for her part, Iroh had known that whoever was close to her could not be Sian or Kai, because Valeath knew those two, so she wasted no time plowing through the muck until her hands were on the slippery ribbons. She didn’t even need to hold it up to Valeath, the exuberant mindvoice and honking let her know the minute her fingers were on the right one, and she plucked it out of the muck and continued on. Forward, yes, yes, ooh go more, more, towards the sun Iroh, can you feel it so warm, yes that’s right. Oh you’re so smart, Iroh. That way, yes. Only a few more steps, a few more.
Iroh was doing her best to keep her skirts up above the muck, which honestly wasn’t as much of a trouble as pulling her leg out every time she took a step forward: Luckily she’d lashed her boots on fairly tight, or maybe her legs were simply too thick, whatever the reason was—she wasn’t losing her boots, that was for sure. She could hear others around her, she was even bumped into a few times, but Valeath made sure she knew when anyone was close—Valeath saw everything. Her mind was like a little trap, and even if she didn’t understand—she saw. There, below you, ooh don’t get distracted now, Iroh, yes yes NO, NO THAT ONE IS IS IS…that one is the bloody shiny shiner’s, don’t take it, they need to win too, Iroh. Noo, darling, that one is for…Sixwith, yes I remember her! Yes, that is ours OH YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN, WE’VE DONE IT AGAIN I—ROH Valeath was beside herself with happiness, and unfortunately a little too close to the edge of the pit from all of her dancing, as she rose up onto her hind legs for another victorious bout of bugling, she pitched forward and tumbled unceremoniously into the muck herself, splatters of putrid brown flashing along her brightly-hued flanks.
Oh, oh I fell in Iroh, I’ll come help now, but, wait, no, that isn’t how it works, is it? The Yellow waded out, pulling her four muddied paws and tail out of the muck one by one as she clambered back onto the rim of the pit, snorting out balls of mud from her delicate nares where it had lodged itself inside of her. It’s so gross, don’t eat any of it Iroh, oh, did you see all of these people? Unfortunately for her human, Valeath hadn’t noticed the gathering Weyrfolk until she had been turned around, and with all of the new people she almost instantaneously forgot the previous directive, due to her excitement. I’m sorry I’m so messy, will you…hello! Hello, I’m Valeath! The growing dragon was hobbling closer to the Weyrfolk, forepaws extended, and Iroh, in the center of the pit, was on her own.
Valeath was beside herself with happiness. All of these lovely people! They were so many sizes, and colours, and types of dress. Some were for dragons, and some were not, and oh she could tell—well no she couldn’t, but they just SEEMED special. So why not? The smallest ones seemed the best, and she was small too, so it was perfect, and for one long moment her little forepaws were playing with the children who came forward to love on her—before being pulled back by the older Weyrfolk who knew that interrupting a lesson was not the very best idea, especially when it was stranding a Weyrling in the middle of a mud pit. Perhaps, if word travelled fast, especially because it was Valeath. In the middle of the bog, Irohvyne was slowly panicking. Not because she was afraid, because really she could simply strip her blindfold off and wash her hands of this mess, but out of embarrassment. This would draw more attention to her, and her dragon. The fat girl and the broken hatchling.
The emotion was welling up inside of her as she stood there listening to the comings and goings of other Weyrlings, her fingers in the slimy chill of the mud as she pretended that she was still working. She was certain, however, that everyone near her could hear the beat of her heart, and the change in her breathing: Everyone had probably stopped to look at her too, to laugh at the waylaid landfish wallowing in the bog. On shore, or rather out of the mud, Valeath was happily playing with the remaining Weyrfolk when her eyes began to slow their happy swirl. The slender curve of her wedge-shaped head wavered to the side, as if she was listening to some distant, almost imaginary noise; that singular occurrence. Something not even tangible, and that she certainly didn’t understand, refocused her concentration. Or, pulled it back to the center—her human. Oh! Oh, I am so sorry I—roh
The Yellow scrabbled away from the Weyrfolk, careful that she did not trample any of them in her haste, and scurried back to the edge of the pit, her voice a haunting wail as her talons slipped over the edge of the murky bog and her hing legs bore her weight to a standstill. I am here, you are so close darling, you could have done this on your own, but we are going to finish it together! Over, right by your hand you are so close, yes! That is ours. Again, my Iroh, again. Under her dragon’s directive, the woman worked around the muck for the remainder of their ribbons; on the shore, Valeath’s hide was shivering under the effect of the cooling mud, but in many ways it worked like oil would, her hide leeching the moisture from it as It dried into a flaky layer. But it itched! And felt so weird. There! Yes, ooh we’re almost done, darling! When F’reki called time, Iroh was still out in the bog, but when she pulled off her blindfold and looked down, five soiled ribbons hung from her waist.
They had done it, against all odds. Smiling brilliantly, the woman lurched out of the muck at as speedy a pace as could be managed, and threw her arms around the strong neck of her dragon. Valeath warbled happily, lifting up onto her hind legs and pulling her rider out of the bog and into her forearms for a victory cuddle session; neither giving any thought to their Classmates, or the Weyrfolk. Not this time. Her Valeath had saved her from the embarrassment, somehow she had remembered her rider and returned, and, more than that, they had finished the exercise—just barely, but it was done—and they had done so even with the hang-ups and mistakes. I love you, Iroh, we need a swim in the lake, okay, because…eww Iroh laughed softly, and buried her face in the powerful curve of the dragon’s neck as it sloped into her developing chest, ”I love you too, darling.”
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kireon
Candidatemaster
kirct[M:-191]
Posts: 739
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Post by kireon on Feb 5, 2013 22:07:59 GMT -5
((OOC: If you want your candidate to be the victim of Niddath's thieving ways, go ahead and include it in your post! ...and Toonooth's post will come after other people post a bit. >>; this got stupidly long because of FEELS.))
-and that's how we'll do it!"[/color] Jaws gaping open to reveal neat rows of small, though incredibly sharp fangs, Niddath bounced nimbly from one corner of their room in the Weyrling barracks to the other. His eyes whirred a multitude of excited greens and happy blues in his bonded's direction. What'd you think, Willow? It's the perfect plan, right? We'll go in there, you can leave the note explaining you were the one who left the flowers for Sian in the infirmary that one time, and you'll be able to sleep without worrying whether or not they found out![/i]
He and Willow were having yet another discussion, some oddly circular debate about whether or not the young woman should talk to Sian and explain the delivery of flowers had been her contribution and message to 'get well soon' from her injuries. The problem Willow had with the idea was the sheer embarrassment that came from being one of the people 'fooled' by Sian's masquerade as a young man, one she'd only reluctantly admitted to Niddath after much badgering and coaxing that he'd never, ever tell another soul... and because she had a bit of a crush on the three of them- K'oa, Sian and Iroh- and all for different reasons.
K'oa, despite being grumpy and short with his words, from what she'd seen, was, in Willow's opinion, the very definition of the strong and silent type- and the kind of person who was undyingly loyal to their friends. In short; K'oa was the kind of person she had personally imagined as being exactly one-third of the perfect dragonrider in her mind. He was considerably tall too, another trait she found appealing, and she thought his eyes were pretty too.
Then, there was Sian. Of course, Sian was the second of the three parts representing attributes of the "perfect" dragonrider she'd conjured in her imagination. H-She was kind and noble, always jumping in whenever an injustice was done or discourtesy to others- especially women- was given. Brave too, and strong and just... Willow's face flamed at the very thought and she buried her face in the volumous skirts covering her knees. Sian was just really cool.
The last, and certainly not least of the three people who made up the 'perfect' rider, was Irohvyne. If there was ever an example, ever an individual who epitomized the very pinnacle of a graceful, confident woman with the strength and emotional fortitude to bear the worst news, the worst storm every in life and come out of it looking rather unscathed and unruffled by it all- it was Irohvyne. She bent, at times when the winds blew the hardest to try and destroy her, but she never, ever broke and nothing seemed to shake her; not Q'sis'... scary display with the dragon and the candidates he physically pushed around on the Sands, not the violence the bronze had unleashed on Sian and H'tep, and certainly not Sian's injuries and revelation of her big secret.
In short, if there was anyone Willow had ever met who was destined to be the Leader and Example to follow as a woman- it was Iroh, and that made her incredibly cool as well, and somehow even harder to approach than Sian and K'oa as a result.
And now, she was a weyrling with the three coolest people she'd ever seen in her life, and she didn't even know how to say so much as a simple 'hello' to them without tripping all over herself.
A knobby, pokey head pushed itself up beneath her elbow and side, a blue-cyan tongue slurping up the side of her cheek as the glimpse of whirring eyes illuminated the dark space she'd created. Willow! Are you okay? I, uhh, don't wanna interrupt or anything, but Girieth is calling us. We've gotta go to our lesson now.[/i] His eyes shimmered, changing in hue to one of concern that reflected in the touch against her mind.
She'd noticed that in the short time they'd been together already- Niddath often reached out, brushed her mind and was almost constantly seeking... something. Maybe it was the really short time he'd been out on the sands, and that he'd been all by himself and alone without her, but he was really good about making sure she knew he was always there for her, whenever she'd ever possibly need him.
He was always really happy whenever she'd shyly, but earnestly let him know she was there for him as well. She could understand in a way she didn't want to explain to anyone else, why he was always so relieved when she said it too. That was their little secret.
As a result, she vowed quietly to try even harder, to make him worry less about her, and thus not worry so much himself. She would be a good rider, one worthy of being one of Girieth's chosen who'd Impressed.
"I'm, um, I'm okay... really," she reassured him, easing her arm over his shoulder to give Niddath a quick cuddle despite the pokey knobs and bumps that formed along his head and neck. "just, um... not ready yet, not to tell... them that I said get well soon, and stuff."
Niddath bobbed his head, at a loss for what to say and listened further. ...huh, he says wear things you don't mind being... retired? What's that word mean? I know what forever means, so what's the other one mean, Willow?[/i]
Retire... forever? Dread settled into a cold, hard knot into the pit of her stomach as she headed for her clothing, to look and pick through what might be okay to lose. "Um, it means... well, usually means you're not going to work anymore. You're resting, basically." Which means the clothes are going to be ruined beyond repair. She thought distractedly, fretting over the choices.
Niddath tried to be helpful, nosing through what he could until he chewed thoughtfully on a pair of trousers he's seen at the bottom. Finding their durability relatively lacking, he pulled them out and held them in his jaws. These![/i] He was headknob deep in the next drawer, rummaging about happily without much of a care- and came up lacking.
He sat back heavily on his haunches, chewing nothing in particular in thought. He perked up less than a minute later, springing to all fours as he glanced up at his fretting bonded. Stay here, I know what we need![/i]
"But-"
He chortled to himself, flinging his words back at her even as the tiny fork of his tail disappeared around the doorframe. Trust me, Willow, I won't let you down![/i] He bounded through the cooridors, head peering into each room one by one- and found one where the occupants hadn't returned... or had just departed. Which it was, he didn't know, and he didn't care. What he did know, however, was the person had left their drawer open and its contents displayed for all to see.
One of these would be good enough for his Willow, he just had to figure out which it was... snout rifling through, chewing thoughtfully on one corner, and then another, it was a bit of a process before the blue struck upon the perfect shirt to go with the pants... and it'd been thrown into the darkest corner of this particular room.
Yes, this would do nicely! They felt the same when he chewed on them, the fabric against the gums and tongue was just right. Willow would certainly be pleased with this- and it was in a dark color too, just like she liked!
I'm back, you missed me right?[/i] He sang triumphantly, strutting with pride into their room with the shirt in his jaws. Look, I found this, someone just threw it away. It's the perfect shirt for the pants.[/i]
Dressed in slightly mismatched clothing, the bottoms a few shades lighter than the top, Willow and Niddath made their way to the lesson... and the former of them froze at the sight of the mud pit. The latter was enthused, bugling a greeting to Girieth and F'reki.
So this was the Girieth she spoke so fondly of! Rearing back on to his hindquarters, significantly easier considering their large size in comparison to the front of him, he stretched his neck up and craned his head to and fro to get as much of the larger dragon in his sight as possible. I'm going to be as good a dragon as you when I get bigger![/i] He declared, directing the comment at Giri. Willow thinks you're amazing, so I have to work hard to be just like you- and then she'll think I'm amazing too.[/i]
Not quite a rival, but not quite an ally either. Niddath thought he could almost relate to Willow's feelings when it came to Sian, K'oa and Irohvyne, now that he'd been faced with Willow's first dragon encounter, and the one who'd brought her to him.
He just hoped he'd be good enough, and that she wouldn't think she'd made a mistake by being his bonded. He didn't want to disappoint her, didn't want her to think she'd been chosen by the least of the dragons in the clutch.
...she... she'd never think that of him, right?
Listening was something Niddath was good at, mostly. He certainly listened to her, often urging her to talk and would wake her up if she was particularly restless to see why she wasn't sleeping well. The young woman eyed the pit nervously, glancing down at herself. Was she overdressed? Sure, there were some new holes in the knee, and the shoulder... and the end of the shirt that hit her just above the knee, but were they really nice clothes? Too nice for this?
She looked at the blindfold in her hands, folding one small finger after the other atop of the fabric and swallowed hard. Willow tried to school her features into determined, to a focused one. She and Niddath could do it! They would find their ribbon in the mud, and they'd be a great team as a result. She trusted him, and he trusted her- that was what they needed... right?
I won't let you down,[/i] Niddath's voice broke into the little pep talk she was giving herself, startling her. He cocked his head at her, back on all fours again as he scrambled to get into a good position to guide her. you can trust me, we're gonna do just fine.[/i]
Dragon and girl stared at one another for a moment, and finally, after a time, Willow gave him a tiny nod, and an equally tiny smile as she tied the blindfold into place. Please, um, guide me well. I put myself into your care.
Blindfolded, Willow took a deep breath and eased herself into the mud. Listening to Niddath, and ignoring the noise around her, was significantly more difficult than she'd initially thought it would be. No few times did she accidentally bump into someone, often interrupting whatever her baby blue had been saying in order to apologize profusely to whoever she'd knocked into.
Not there, not the- no, wait, go a little more that way- no, no, the othe- up a little and, yeah! Right there! You've got it! You got the ribbon![/i] He threw his head back and trumpeted. He didn't care if they weren't first, or last; they'd done it and they'd done it together and that was the most important thing of all.
Her shy smile almost ear to ear, face flushed with pride, Willow wobbled away from the center, slogging through the thick mud towards an edge of some sort... and bumped shoulders with someone else hard enough to send herself off kilter. Arms pinwheeling wildly to try and keep herself from falling, there was a short cry of alarm as she failed, heel sliding a little too far forward to dump her into the slop back first.
There was a squwak from Niddath, the blue's eyes flashing orange and yellow as he tensed, preparing to launch himself into the slurry to swim, or struggle, his way out to help her... and watched the shadow of Girieth loom over, plucking his bonded neatly out of the pit. He slumped back on to his hindquarters, neck and head following every movement as the much larger dragon gently dipped Willow into the lake to try and wash her off.
He needed to get bigger. A lot bigger. Bigger than Girieth. That way he could reach in and save her like he did. Miserably, the blue slumped down, resting his chin on the ground forlornly as Giri took care of Willow. Maybe he wasn't as good a partner as he thought, what kind of dragon couldn't even save his from trouble? Not a good one, that was for sure... and that meant he wasn't a good dragon.
Clinging to Girith's claw... finger, paw... whatever she could grasp, Willow spluttered in protest at the dip in the lake, though her grip didn't loosen in the least when she came back up. Wet, and somewhat significantly less muddy, the gray eyed girl blinked water out of her eyes and gave a shy smile to the blue. "T-thank you, you saved me again." Her voice was timid, filled with gratitude even as the blue set her down eventually. She gave a pet to the gigantic, light blue 'finger' and smiled up at him before scampering soggily back to Niddath.
She'd have to find out a treat for him, a thank you present for later.
"Look, I still have the ribbons, I didn't lose them." She showed him the equally soggy ribbons. Torn between his woes- Girieth had totally showed him up, how could she ever love him when that other blue was just so much better?!- and his love for the timid, though proud girl he'd bonded to, Niddath forced himself up for her sake and nuzzled the ribbons, chomping down on one end to 'walk' her to F'reki for the next step in their assignment.
We've got the ribbons![/i] he announced proudly. He supposed he was still some good. After all, Willow had needed his help, not Girieth's to get the ribbons in the first place.[/size]
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RavenSong
Jr. Weyrleader
songct[M:-364]
Posts: 710
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Post by RavenSong on Feb 6, 2013 4:33:25 GMT -5
N'yn was playing with Eidukth at the edge of the Lake, idly watching F'reki and Girieth set up the lesson. He wasn't aware of what the mudpit was for, thinking instead that his Weyrlingmaster had gone 'round the twist or that Girieth was for some reason demanding a mudbath like his dragonet was currently engaged in.
"Okay, Eidukth, wash off. You're all muddy and gross now," N'yn said, making a shooing motion at the cyan.
Okay! Eidukth agreed readily, slipping into the shallows to rinse herself. Rapidly growing, she was too big for N'yn to even consider picking up. He helped her wash the mud off her bright hide.
N'yn! Eidukth suddenly said, excitement in her voice. Girieth says it's time for a very important lesson. He says to wear clothing you wouldn't mind having to retire permanently. Retire... isn't that what you said yesterday about a boot?
"Yeah. It's the boot I'm wearing right now to stand in mud while I wash you," he said. He looked himself over, shrugging a bit. His clothing was frowsy enough to suffice for the lesson. His quarters were in a similar state, all unkempt and messy like a typical teenager's room, and unbeknownst to him Niddath was rummaging around in his room. He led Eidukth over to the mud pit, wondering what was going on. He looked around as F'reki passed out blindfolds, blinking as he saw Willow. And his worst shirt.
"That's my shirt!" he exclaimed unwittingly. Almost instantly, he felt Eidukth bristle.
Thieves?! she demanded. Thieves stole your shirt?! We have to get it back, N'yn! The small knight-errant started for Willow, only to have N'yn physically restrain her.
"No! No, Eidukth, she can keep it."
But stealing's wrong!
"Yeah, stealing's wrong, but if I decide later to make the thing the thief stole a present to the thief because they clearly needed it somehow, then it's okay. I mean, really, why else would she be wearing my shirt? Besides, I don't like that shirt. It's not a very good shirt anymore. It's all stretched out and worn. So relax, okay? She can have my shirt."
Eidukth pondered N'yn's words for a moment, then settled back onto her haunches.
Okay, she said. That sounds fair. I'm glad you know so much, N'yn. I was about to take the shirt off her and give it back to you. She levelled a glare on Niddath, though. Please tell Yours that stealing is bad, okay? It's really bad, actually, and it's a sign of desperation and weak morals. I'm sure Yours has good morals otherwise, but stealing is very wicked. She'll get in trouble eventually if she keeps stealing, so be a good dragon and make sure she stops that.
N'yn, overhearing his dragon, simply facepalmed. Ohhhh he hoped Niddath didn't repeat that to Willow. Just in case, he gave Willow an apologetic grin. F'reki's instructions made him pause. Could Eidukth do this? Surely she could. He put his blindfold on.
"Okay, Eidukth, I need you to direct me to ribbons that are the same color as you," he said. Eidukth looked down at her foreclaws, then twisted her head around to look at her wings and back end.
Which color of me? she asked, genuinely curious because of her distinct coloring. N'yn removed his blindfold for a second, looking over the mud.
"The front part of you," he said, seeing a vibrant shade that would match her nicely, that wasn't quite so blue as Ocilovoth. He put his blindfold back on, confident at that point. Eidukth looked at her foreclaws, then out at the mud as N'yn waded in.
Um... go to your left! No, wait, that's the wrong way. The other way, Eidukth said. There! Maybe two steps in front of you. Okay... just a little bit more. RIGHT THERE! Yeah! That's the right one! Unfortunately, Eidukth had directed N'yn to a ribbon that was actually Ocilovoth's, and the boy tucked it into his belt. Eidukth directed him to another she thought was her color, and that one turned out to be right.
Wait... hold up the first one you got for me? Eidukth directed. N'yn held up the bright blue ribbon obediently. Okay, now hold up the one you just got next to it? I think they're different. N'yn held them next to one another. Eidukth let out a distressed honk, hopping from foreclaw to foreclaw. NO! I got it wrong! she cried, loud enough for Girieth to hear. Which one is me, N'yn?! I can't tell!
It's cheating for me to look, Eidukth, and cheating's bad, N'yn said mentally. But I'll describe you to yourself... your front end, like I said the ribbons match is a really bright cyan. Not blue! Look at your brother Ocilovoth. If the ribbon looks like him, it's not yours. It's the -other- bright blue-looking color. The darker one, you're darker than Ocilovoth. N'yn's tone reassured Eidukth. He was wise, after all. He knew Things.
Okay, Eidukth said, calming down. Her eyes still whirled with worry as she looked around, catching sight of her aforementioned brother. The one in your right hand is the wrong one. The one in your left is me... I think. Ohhhhhhh!
Relax, Eidukth, N'yn said again. Take your time, we don't have to rush! He dropped Ocilovoth's ribbon and moved on, tucking Eidukth's into his belt. Just look for the ones that match the one on my belt, okay? You can do this, Eidukth! I know you can. You're smart, and you try hard. Besides, this is to teach listening! I don't think we have to get all the ribbons right! And if we run out of time, that's okay. I don't mind filling in the pit!
Okay. To your left! Yeah, right there. In front of you now... just a little further, there's a ribbon. Yeah! You got it! Ooh, no, drop that one. It's green. Ummm... to your right now... no, other way, I'm sorry. THERE! Hold that one up? YAY! It's me! Okay....
It took N'yn and Eidukth awhile, with several more blunders, before N'yn had all five ribbons. Still exhibiting patience with his Cyan, N'yn had her direct him back to where she was. He placed a hand on her neck and grinned.
"Okay, walk to Weyrlingmaster F'reki, please!" he said. Eidukth, relieved that the exercise was over, did just that.
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Gray
Wingrider
grayct[M:-350]
Posts: 870
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Post by Gray on Feb 6, 2013 5:25:56 GMT -5
There was mud. Mud everywhere!
Quintin let out a distressed 'Luu' as she spotted it, now dreading where her Kida was guiding her. Mud! Mud was the bane of her existence! It felt nice and cool and she liked wading in it before a swim but when mixed with her Kidanyr it was trouble. Still, she could also see big brigh things, but not as big as the biggest bright things. These ones were babies. If the pillie could sigh she would. She would not stop Kidanyr from observing this, and if Kida did get muddy, Quintin would just have to inform someone.
Kidanyr herself was oblivious to Quintin's turmoil. Word quickly got through the grapevine, and Kidanyr had quickly abandoned her sanctuary. An errant scrap of cloth was still tied around her eyes, not too unlike the blindfolds, except hers had eyeholes. They were her makeshift Riding Goggles for play, she had made them herself and was rather proud of them. Adjusting the stripe of pale green cloth again, Kidanyr barged to the edge of the pit.
They were all so pretty! So many colors and kinds! “Look Iastoth, they're like you!” She yammered to no one. Iastoth was, quite obviously, there. Though no one could see the dragon but Kida. She was that special. The girl waited for a few moments and nodded before turning to look at the weyrlings in the mud. “Oh they're so lucky! I never get to play in this much mud!” She pouted a bit, but after a few moments she sighed. “I know, my momma and Quintin wouldn't like if I got dirty, huh?”
Hearing her name, the Pillie scuttled closer, biting on the edge of the six-turn old's shirt, to make sure she didn't go toppling into the pit.
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Boo
Jr. Weyrwoman
booct[M:-425]
Shirath: THOSE aren't spirit fingers... THESE ARE SPIRIT FINGERS!!!
Posts: 1,917
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Post by Boo on Feb 6, 2013 19:20:09 GMT -5
A lot of there time was now spent sitting in silence. Sometimes she went a long while without even seeing Bessienth who rather enjoyed wandering off to find new things. Requezzia was content. The chores were not so difficult and caring for Bessienth was easy enough. Bathing was fine for they could do it together and in that time the cyan would happily swim off in the water and do something else. Oiling was also a fairly simple task now that she had the hang of it of course.
That morning Hers had been looking at some clothing that had been sent to her. Bessienth did not understand such a thing but she supposed it wasn't one of her main concerns. No, she did not need to pay attention to such a thing. Thus the cyan had curled herself up quite contentedly on the floor and sat there watching others wander past their door. Well contentedness was as far as she could conceivably go... She was not particularly happy and hated the parade that Ezzia put on when she was preparing for a lesson. Speaking of lessons.
You. Lesson.
In the mirror, Ezzia looked back at the cyan with a sneer. What had happened to My Queen and My Lady? Placing the mirror in her trunk once more, she checked herself over totally, smoothing out her dress. It was a rather elegant frock and she assumed they would be talking today, of course. It was rather beautiful and a new addition to her wardrobe. A gift from her mother. As a result, Ezzia had recently culled her extensive wardrobe and given the outfits she no longer wanted to one of the Weyrfolk in a show of extraordinary generosity, she thought. A surge of humour flowed faintly through the bond. What is so funny. Nothing. We will be late.
Bessienth got to her feet and walked out of the room, prancing her way down the corridor. Ezzia followed slowly, checking over her hair carefully. They walked out to the Weyrbowl. Look at all the peasant folk in their ugly hideous clothes. Ezzia held her head high and swanned her way over to stand before F'reki, Bessienth seated primly by her side. As he gestured to the mud her mouth opened, holding the blindfold at an arm's length.
"You expect me to go out there?" She objected.
F'reki approached her and mentioned in no uncertain terms that if she refused he would have Girieth drop her in there. He also inferred that her dress was not appropriate for the situation. For a while Requezzia glared at him and then, without breaking eye contact, proceeded to take off her dress. She tossed the dress to Bessienth, allowing it to rest on the cyan's back and then in her undergarments, strolled out into the mud, tying the blindfold around her face as she did so.
Muttering all the way, she walked Bessienth giving her directions through feeling rather than voicing them. Yes. No. Affirmative and negative emotions to say if she was going the right way. After slipping and sliding, she grabbed a ribbon. No. Well she was going to take it anyway. That one is dark blue... It is Shalith's I don't care. The snappiness to her tone caused Bessienth to recoil and fall quiet again as she directed Hers to their ribbon but Ezzia was ignoring her and snatched up Charth's and Toonooth's adding them to her growing collection not knowing, of course, that they were said dragon's only knowing they were not Bessienth's. She didn't even try to find her own one now, determined to sabotage this little exercise as best she could.
[/blockquote]
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Reky
Alphahandler
rekyct[M:-999]
SO PRO
Posts: 1,554
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Post by Reky on Feb 8, 2013 0:58:32 GMT -5
By now, Iopiath was taller than H'tep. When she stood and raised her head, she could look clear over top of him, and he could tuck his face into the soft flesh of her neck. Often, after a long and strenuous day, this would be the ritual. He would gently press his finger to the strong, slow pulse of her arteries, and she would rest her delicate chin on the top of his head. These small, physical ceremonies were all the comfort H'tep ever needed in the world. Iopiath was everything he had ever needed. Perhaps, she did not fill the gap of what he wanted - but she was what he needed, and so even when weyrlinghood got frustrating or mundane, he was able to muscle through it.
Iopiath's visions had long since became natural for him. She fed him a nearly constant stream of subtle improvements to the real world as if it were background noise. In a way, it was comparable to Valeath's incessant, loving banter. Iopiath highlighted what interested her; what made her happy; what what didn't make sense to her. She infused H'tep with her attention to detail. She cared about the world much more deeply than he ever had. Where he had ghosted his way through his life and surroundings, Iopiath seemed to do the same - but with her eyes wide open. They were elusive to the Weyr, but the Weyr was not elusive to them. Iopiath noticed many of the beautiful everyday nuances - and imagined a great many more than that.
Girieth's instructions came through the green like a sort of firm touch. She never copied his orders out in words, but rather, she sent H'tep the feeling of them. Like a hand to his shoulder, all he felt was the gentle pressure - but he still knew it was a hand. That particular day, she conveyed to him the familiar sensation of rising, dressing, and making their way out to lessons. He was resting in bed with her large head across his lap.
Iopiath shifted, and also passed along an image of him in a very specific outfit. She had selected it from his wardrobe herself and, in one of her rare strokes of criticism, made sure that the garments were ones that she personally disliked.
Why? he asked, reluctant to stretch his legs out of bed and get ready. Iopiath simply pressed the mental image of the clothes back at him, explaining it wordlessly. H'tep, though, sighing, understood.
When H'tep made it out and across the bowl to congregate in front of F'reki, he was dressed blandly and Iopiath padded placidly behind him. She was calm but quite happy, and stretched her wings out in the glinting autumn sun. As she went, she bumped minds with her siblings in the way a boat would bump with the dock - briefly, naturally, and with a satisfying, full, round feeling like the sound of water. What she sent them was cryptic - for most, it was just a little sensation - like touching noses without being near each other. To Bessienth, Xuqulzeth, and Shalith - purely out of H'tep's latent affinity for their riders - she also passed along some colours.
Listening to F'reki, H'tep felt a nascent sense of irritability. Wading and fishing through mud had not been in his agenda. It was the worst of both elemental worlds: the heaviness and thickness of earth combined with the pervasiveness of water. With any hope, the blindfold would keep it from getting in his eyes, but now he understood concretely the warning about clothes. He foresaw a great exodus to the lake after this, which he wasn't sure he wanted to attend on account of the extensive company, but knew he would have to on account of the filth.
Iopiath, on the other hand, was very self-assured. She sat tall and proud behind her poorly-postured rider. In an exercise devoted to communication, she did not doubt herself or H'tep for a moment. It would be easy, she thought. And briefly, H'tep worried that she was learning her cockiness from him, but she quickly put out his grumping like a snuffer and willed him blind into the pit. She reminded him of their time limit by making him feel anxious in his head, and he scoffed.
I know what twenty minutes means, Io, he told her. And she told him that she knew that he did, but didn't appreciate his attitude today. She showed him, under his blindfold, that the sun was shining so nicely for the season and he had no right to be so ornery. He swallowed his words out to the recesses of his mind rather resentfully, and put his focus towards finding his footing in the slippery, viscous mud, and then put his hands out in front of him. Almost immediately, he felt a watery layer of the colour blue coat his mind's eye. Adjusting his angle brought the blue up to a warm violet, and he proceeded forward.
Iopiath watched him carefully from where she sat. She saw a glimmer of her own hide reflected in the mud and led him to it by fine-tuning his instincts. Warmer... Warmer... The colour she gave him grew redder and redder as he got closer. When he strayed from the path she gave him, she tugged at his head like one would tug on a dog's leash, and he frowned but plodded onward. He had entered the pit where it was nearly devoid of anything Io-coloured, and when he finally made it to the first ribbon, he felt like he must have walked ten times the length of the pit.
He retrieved the ribbon from the murk and squeezed the slick coating of mud off between his fingers. Iopiath imagined the ribbon for him, and imagined it curling and fleshing out into a model of herself that simultaneously felt life-sized, but also fit into his hand. She was more triumphant than H'tep, and he simply tucked the ribbon into his belt. A second followed shortly after, and then Io had no choice but to colour-steer him into a high-traffic section of the mud.
He fell on the way there and righted himself very indignantly, rubbing his hip and swiping the sticky dirt away. She gave him a rather ingenious vision of the location of the third ribbon in relation to where he stood, but since she was watching from afar and not through his eyes, the angle was off. The ribbon that he grabbed next was subsequently the wrong colour. In his head, it curled and formed into the shape of cyan Bessienth. H'tep nearly groaned, but Io imposed on him a second, urgent image: Requezzia walking by him, though she was more the scent of Igen sand than a real, tangible human being. It got the point across.
H'tep reached out and slapped the cyan ribbon onto her. The mud made it stick quite effectively to the front of her, and he may have dragged it across more of her bare skin than she would have liked. He didn't care. "That's yours," he added gruffly, and then plunged his hand down again. This time he retrieved the Iopiath ribbon, and now made a trio of them on his belt.
The muddy ground had effectively removed any grace H'tep usually walked with. He successfully obtained a fourth ribbon after falling only two more times, and after he put it on his belt, he groped around his mindlink for more directions, but found none. Back on dry land, Iopiath was scrutinizing the entire scene. Mud, people, belts, hands, for any sign of the fifth spring green ribbon. The blankness between them made H'tep uneasy.
Come on, Io, let's go, he pushed.
Still, she was looking.
How much time do we have left?
Shh, she hushed. H'tep quieted. Though he heard her voice more than anyone else in all of Pern, he still heard it so infrequently that it held a very heavy potency. Its timbre was almost indescribable - the only way he would be able to come close to it would be to call it a very warm spring. With him subdued, she also passed on the feeling of heaviness in his feet: wait where you are.
Someone else had to have picked up their fifth ribbon. [/blockquote]
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Serah
Wingsecond
serct[M:-148]
Posts: 358
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Post by Serah on Feb 9, 2013 0:15:06 GMT -5
Lyna was doing what she normally did, look for people to talk to. Of course, she couldn't find anyone at the moment. They were probably still in their rooms, or out somewhere she wasn't looking with their new dragons. Charth was following Lyna nearly step for step. Only stopping to investigate an object every so often. LynaMine, where are we headed now? The Pink asked. Lyna looked at Charth and shrugged. "I was thinking we could take a break once we reach somewhere that we can both sit comfortably at." She said, looking around the area.
If Lyna was correct, they were almost back to the entry hall, which meant that they were near the courtyard/common area. It also meant that they were almost back to their weyr, which is where Lyna decided that they would go. Mine, that was a nice walk. Charth said, as she went to lay down. Lyna changed clothes into something a bit more casual than her usual, also darker.
No sooner had she done that than she heard the Weyrlingmaster call them to their first lesson. When she and Charth got out to where the lesson was being held, she was glad she had made a change of clothes. The Weyrlingmaster was standing in front of a pit full of mud that held colorful ribbons inside. He was holding blindfolds himself. Lyna began to wonder what they were for when F'reki explained their purpose. /Well, let's do our best Charth!/ She thought towards the Pink.
Lyna put her blindfold on and started walking forward. Alright Mine, go right just a bit, and then go forward. There looks like there's a pink ribbon in that direction. Charth instructed, watching Lyna slip in the mud a few times. /Mud is slippery./ She thought, as she slipped once more. She grabbed what she thought was a ribbon and held it up. There's one! Exclaimed the Pink, happy her rider finally got to the ribbon.
Charth looked through the pit once more, this time, noticing more pink ribbons. Alright Mine, two to your left, one near the middle, the other near the edge. One to your right, halfway between the middle and the edge. And one nearly directly on the opposite side of you on the edge. She informed Lyna. Lyna, meanwhile, was readjusting her blindfold as it had slipped a bit from its original position. She decided to go for the two to her left, and slipped soon after her first step. She mentally groaned.
A long bath was definitely headed her way after this lesson. Either way, Lyna kept on. The slipping occurred less often though still she slipped and fell. Eventually she reached both of the pink ribbons Charth had spoken of. The first pink ribbon was near another pink one, which she held up first. Charth told her to try the other one, and she did. That made two of five ribbons. The third was easy enough to reach without slipping. This time there was no ribbon near it, so she was on the move once again.
Lyna continued to work her way around the pit, this time heading for the one Charth had said was directly behind her, almost, before she had gone after the two that were on her left. She felt other ribbons, but they weren't pink. One was tan, the others blue and green. She put each one down after she had confirmation that they were not the pink she was looking for. Soon after Lyna got the fourth ribbon, she forgot where Charth said the last one was.
/Charth, where did you say the last one was again?/ She asked, continuing to move around the pit at a slower pace. Charth shook her head. Now it is about two large steps from you, and slightly to your left. And only slightly Mine, remember that. The Pink said, watching her rider move in the mud. Lyna finally reached what she hoped was the last of the pink ribbons. Before she could grab it, however, someone picked it up. Mine! Someone got it first! Go after her! Charth ordered, surprised and a little angry that Lyna didn't get there quicker.
Lyna moved forward, not knowing which way to go. She eventually tripped, again, and this time she thought she may have hit someone. Charth was not very impressed by this. Mine, did you get the ribbon? The Pink hoped the question would help motivate her rider. It sorta worked. /Ugh./ She struggled to get up, falling once more as she tried to get up. "I'm getting tired of this." She said aloud. That girl. Charth said.
It took a moment for Lyna to process what Charth said. That girl. What did she mean? Then it hit her. That girl took her ribbon. "Could I have my ribbon please? I just want to get out of here." She asked the girl.
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Chek
Weyrlingmaster
chekct[M:-15]
I'm so magical I vomit rainbows
Posts: 1,091
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Post by Chek on Feb 26, 2013 14:13:54 GMT -5
OOC: If you haven’t posted prior to this ending post, as far as I am concerned you got three or less ribbons.
Time, my F’reki, Girieth passed along, looking back up from where he was fussing over Willow and Niddath. F’reki, for his part, simply nodded, frowning thoughtfully at his struggling, muddy weyrlings. Several had already made their way to him, but not near as many as he’d hoped. Nothing to be done for it now, he supposed. He would, however, need to…speak to them. Some of them, he mentally amended.
The Weyrlingmaster gave a short, sharp whistle, “Blindfolds off, everyone front and center, ribbons presented!” His weyrlings assembled fairly quickly, forming a ragged, muddy line, most ribbons clenched in outstretched hands. One by one, F’reki inspected their prizes, nodding thoughtfully as he reached the end of the line. “This test was formulated for several reasons, and not just because I find it hilarious. This was a test of your listening and relay abilities, those of both you and your dragons. You were told to wear disposable clothing; many of you did. Some of you did not, and faced consequences. That was the first test. Think about what information you got through your dragonet, and think about improving your communication.”
He extended a single finger, “The next test: I told you to do something most of you probably found unpleasant to some extent, and probably thought was purely for my amusement. Every one of you obeyed without question – some grumbling, but you didn’t ask me why. You all fail this test. I’m not telling you to question orders, but if something seems dangerous or stupid, you shouldn’t be afraid or unwilling to ask your WIngleader why they are making you do it.” A second finger went up.
“Third,” now F’reki had three fingers up on his hand, “It was a test of, at the surface, following directions. And many of you did, in fact, complete the exercise! Good. BUT. I suspect many of you had your dragonet telling you where to go, didn’t you? Don’t worry, I was the same as a new weyrling. What you need to do is visualization. Visualization is important to a dragonrider for many reason, the most fundamentally important of which is that if you can’t share a perfect mental image with your dragon, or your dragon with another dragon, we will never allow you to attempt to Between. It would be a death sentence.”
“With that in mind, from now on, every night, you and your dragon are to sit in your room, and have your dragonet view the room for you. Wear a blindfold, put a sheet over your head, whatever you need. And then, without speaking have your dragon select something and then, using only what THEY can see, try and get it. And then swap and do it the other way around. Go get a slate from the Headwoman tonight and document your attempts; I’ll go over them with you and work on any problems once a week. Understand?”
He looked around at the faces of his weyrlings, and laughed, lightening the serious tone. “Final reason for the test was that it was sharding hilarious. Now. Everyone who got three or less ribbons, get filling that mud pit. Shovels are behind Girieth, if you ask him nice, he might help you a little. Everyone else, over here.”
Once everyone else was slogging off to deal with the pit, F’reki looked around himself: Iroh, Willow, N'yn, and Requezzia, along with H'tep, and Lyna though those last two only held four ribbons each. “Iroh, Willow, N’yn, congratulations. Enjoy the rest of your free day. H’tep, Lyra. You’ll put your blindfolds on again and do a lap around the lake, your dragons directing you – visually. Once that’s done, you’re free to enjoy your day as well. Requezzia, you’re going with them. It’s always an option, but we never withhold aid from a fellow rider if their reasons are just. Or, in this case, ribbons. Get moving, you lot.”
F’reki shooed his weyrlings away, frowning once they’d all turned their backs and sighing. Lots of work to do, yet. He jolted, remembering himself, and yelled after his scattered weyrlings, "Clean and hang onto your ribbons! You'll need them."
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