words that cut like knives

[Zephyr]

I’m sure your siblings don’t hate you, R’hiaMine. Sekaith crooned to his rider. The big blue was sitting on R’hia’s bed, and the boy himself was sitting on the floor, fingers combing through his hair. Having someone connected to your every thought at all times was difficult for the normally very private guy. He worked so hard to hide his true emotions, that having someone know him inside and out. “I don’t think they hate me, Sekaith.” R’hia sighed, flopping back onto the bed. Sekaith half crawled over, draping himself over the boy and tightening his forepaws in an improvised hug. He nuzzled his snout into R’hia’s neck and just flopped there. You are though. And it’s making you sad. I don’t want you sad.

The boy heaved a sigh and ran his fingers along the young blue’s hide, scratching behind his headknobs for a second. “It doesn’t matter, Sekaith.” It does if it makes you sad. “I’m fine.” You should go talk to them. I wouldn’t mind seeing Noirath or Mattoth…I haven’t hugged them yet. “No.” It was getting really awkward to laying the way he was, so he gently pushed the pudgy blue away from him. “They don’t want to see me. I screwed up at the hatching, and nearly got Nori killed. It should have been me.” And why would they want anything to do with him? He'd impressed last. They'd all had time to grown used to the idea of a united family front that included bondeds...without him. It was just as well that none of them had come to see him, and he made sure to to let himself be seen during lessons. He was damaged goods. It was difficult to readjust to doing things with three fingers. He could have had it worse, but he wish he had.

Sekaith pouted on R’hia’s chest, not showing any inclination to get up from where he was laying. R’hia pushed him harder and went to sit up, speaking again before the dragonet could say anything. “Are you hungry? Let’s go get food.” He didn’t want to talk about his family drama with anyone, not even his dragon, and the unease he felt with the subject was clear. Appealing to a growing baby’s stomach was the best way to get it to forget about what they were talking about.

His stomach was the perfect lure and Sekaith slid off the bed, bouncing around with wide blue eyes. Yes please! The dragonet bounded around R’hia as he got dressed and left to make his way to the dining hall. Sekaith was bouncing happily, stopping often to inspect a flower, or a rock, or a bug…and a firelizard once. Can you get me some vegetables, Mine? It’s not nice to eat meat, you know. “Dragons don’t eat vegetables, Sekaith.” The blue didn’t miss a beat. Why not? It’s so much nicer!

R’hia rolled his eyes and snorted as the pair of them slipped into the busy dining hall. “Vegetables were alive once too. It’s not nice no matter how you cut it.” The dragonet’s eyes flooded with yellow and he made a sound of horror. Now I can’t eat anything! “You’ll be fine.” R’hia mused as he paused to skim the room once before making his way towards the food, Sekaith doggedly at his heels.

[Chimera]

((fff this is long and drabble-y and dummbbb i am sorry))

Even if he didn't always realize it, L'nor sometimes overlooked R'hia's feelings while worrying over Norilana.

That wasn't good. Not that the oldest of the family could really help it - he was rather blunt and bad at things like that. He knew it. But he wished he knew how to help Ran...L'nor was honestly somewhat...unsure, for once in his life, of how to approach the boy. He didn't want him to feel left out, and even with baby dragons to take care of he'd still help this family be united again. Not that it was in the first place, maybe, but this was a second chance at life, because come on, what was the chance some idiot would start this whole fiasco moving and remind Dalibor that the Western Ring Islands Holdless existed, and that some could be Searched?

Fat chance, that was what L'nor called it.

"Y'want t'go eat? Y'can go see th' Dinin' Hall an' insides a' th' Weyr 'fore yer too big. Truth be told, yer still gonna be bumpin' into things at yer present size, but ye'll regret it if y'don't."

Why not? You seem to think I'm very against it. Let's go whenever you're ready, then, L'norOwn. He stretched out his awkward hatchling neck, lifted an awkward hatchling paw, and gave L'nor an awkward hatchling high-five. The weyrling returned the sentiment with his own hand, a rare chuckle escaping his throat.

"Y' are too silly sometimes, Matt. Now, I think it's time t'go. Else th' food'll be gone. Sekaith'll eat it."

That's not nice to say.

"Oh, don' lecture me."

As R'hia made his way into the dining hall, so did his brownriding brother. L'nor watched him head for the food section, then he and Mattoth made their moves.

"An' how're y'feelin' today? Top of th' mornin' to ye, Ran."

Sekaith. How are you? Mattoth wanted to open his large wings, get used to them, but he was like a herdbeast in a glass shop already - there was simply no room. It made him a bit disappointed, but no use in being sad after all - he could practice opening his wings outside! That was optimism. Mattoth admired Sekaith for his wealth of that.

This was terrible. The tall weyrling knew the problem, that he just...couldn't relate to his younger brother. But he was determined to set things right with him, and actually have a decent conversation with him. He hadn't, not since their Holdless days. Because then they'd arrived here, whisked here in the middle of a political tornado they knew nothing about, and soon after they'd all stared at the rainbow-whirling eyes of their new mindmates - even if the mindmates had all been surprising.

It all was behind him, and L'nor's growling stomach pulled him away from those thoughts. Mattoth, too, wordlessly hinted through their bond he'd like to try the food - it was a new experience. It was more than the raw meat and fish he usually ate.

"You're a growing boy!" Lanasu had often said to her eldest son, and later to her other sons. Embarrassing. Sadly, it was right. Even if L'nor wasn't really growing anymore, he needed food. He started piling up a few small slices of meat, and that omelet looked tempting.

He turned from his plate of food to R'hia, and then to the weyrling's hands, and where a few fingers were missing. Ironically, he and Joshu had been the least injured...It should've been the other way. L'nor regretted he didn't do more, he could've, but he was not himself that day.

...It could've been worse. Could've been better, could've been worse. That thought was an alien one, but one the grumpy weyrling was getting familiar with.

Mattoth's eyes were a tint more yellow, to match Sekaith's alarmed eyes when the blue was told about vegetables being alive once.

What is wrong?

But the brown did not know the reason for his brother's alarm.