Live Fire Exercise {Blizzardbaiters + all flits)

[Chek]

Standing once more at the edge of a vast, makeshift mud pit, F’reki nodded to himself and then waved to the line of riders and assorted Weyrfolk spectating from a nearby fence. The ground around certain individuals and groups of individuals were clustered with dozens of firelizards, all chittering and shuffling around. It was a veritable sea of colorful little bodies, and F’reki was not entirely sure that all of them had owners or chaperones – there were a few that he guessed were probably wilds, but they seemed to be playing along with the game thus far.

F’reki surveyed this set-up and felt appropriately cruel. “Girieth,” she said to his blue, hunched up nearby and eyeballing the firelizard mass, “Call out our little ones, you know the drill.”

The blue straightened up and bugled in the direction of the Weyrling’s Barracks, Come, my Weyrlings, it is time for a lesson. You will ruin your clothing for sure, wear only what you are willing to loose. If you need clothing, there is child in the common area that has a pile of discard clothing and sandals for you to choose from. Basilidisi was, in fact, sitting beside a pile of bizarrely dyed clothing* and sandals, bouncing as she crouched on her heels right inside the Weyrling Barrack doors.

Slowly, the Blizzardbaiters assembled – sans a certain little green wher due to the daylight lesson time – and F’reki spread his arms widely, smiling, to welcome them, “Children! Prepare yourselves!”

Then he laughed, wildly and with a touch of maniacal anticipation. Cutting off abruptly, he started the explanation, “There are little dolls in the mud. Your dragons? Are going to collect them. YOU are going to defend them with those,” he pointed to little bundles of color lined up along the edge of the mud pit, “from them,” and now the finger turned towards the seething mass of flitter, who, it seemed on cue (Girieth had excellent dramatic timing and knew how to boss flitters around), all simultaneously turned to look at the Weyrlings.

“You all get four bags of colored powder – firestone, as it were – and the firelizards are going to be trying to attack your dragons with “Thread”. Your powder represents flame. Tag a flit, it’s out. You are allowed fifteen non-fatal Threadscores on your dragons as long as each is immediately dipped into the mud before you are out. Get tagged in the throat, neck or belly and you’re out. Out Weyrlings get to stand on the side of the pit and throw Thread at the rest of the class. Oh! And scores on the human don’t count this time – you can defend your dragon the dramatic way if you wish. Run out of dust, you’re out. The number of dolls you bring out will determine your initial training wing structure, and the person who brings in the most doesn’t have to help fill in the mud pit.”

He waved them to choose a bundle and wait at the edge of the pit before he turned to the people controlling the flitters, “I’ve already given you all the rundown; Girieth will reinforce any orders to keep them in line if you need him to, for those of you without dragons of your own. If one of your firelizards is tagged out, go speak to the blonde with the washtub,” he pointed to Valha, who waved, “for clean up.”

Once everyone nodded or otherwise signaled assent, he turned back to the Weyrlings as the flock of firelizards lifted into the air, many, many of them dripping paint, “Weyrlings! On three! One! Two! Three! Go! DRAGONS AND WEYRLINGS, INTO THE MUD.”




OOC: THERE WILL BE THREE ROUNDS OF POSTING. I will post and trigger the next one when I feel everyone who is going to post has. There is no posting order, feel free to interact as you will each round. I am hereby suspending the 200 word post limit FOR THIS POST ONLY. 100 words is your minimum for this lesson thread. THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULDN'T POST MORE IF YOU HAVE THE WORDS, though.

Weyrlings are not obligated to participate, but I will actually be following through with my participation prize drawing at the end of your Weyrlinghood this time, so…it’s worth it!

RULES FOR WEYRLINGS:
Okay, each Weyrling gets four little baggies of colored chalk dust. They have to use it wisely to fend off the flitters that will be trying to put paint on each young dragon. Flitters represent Thread, chalk dust is flame. Protect your dragon from “Thread” by “flaming” them with the chalk dust. Riders can also take as many scores as needed to protect their dragon in this exercise because F’reki thinks paint covered Weyrlings are hilarious.

Dragons are looking in the mud for little fabric dolls. Their riders can only touch the doll once their dragon brings it up out of the mud. Collect as many as they can.

Each dragon can have 15 “minor” scores, as long as they promptly dip the scores in the mud. A fatal score, to the back of the neck, the belly, or the throat means that dragonpair is out. Be realistic when deciding which hits make it and which don’t; no one is getting out of this lesson unpainted.

RULES FOR FLITTERS:
Anyone can play a flitter, there are playful wilds involved for those without flitters that have a good temperament. Weyrling players can play flitters as well. Each flitter has access to a little pot of paint and lengths of tangled string. They dip the string, fly up no more than 7 feet from the mud surface, and attempt to tag dragonets by dropping their paint strings. They are encouraged to try to fling the string from weird angles and direction. If a flitter gets chalk dusted, it is out and reports to Valha’s station with their owner (or just to Valha in the case of the few friendly wilds) for cleanup.

Girieth will not allow them to deviate from this set of behaviors.

It’s super cute. Also magically no flitter will be blinded or harmed by this lesson, it is magical dust. Or flitters are using their second eyelid, whatever.

Notes:
* All the clothing Dizzy is handing out is ridiculous and tie-dyed in greens, blues and reddish orange. Wear it with pride and hilarity.

[Azhdarchid]

Clad in only the finest magenta tie-dye shirt and sky blue rags passing as shorts, Ghols surveyed the pit while Arcuth worried at her back.

Are you sure you should be wearing that? There is dust on it. It does not flow. It has no state of being and it does not elevate- oh, do not step so close to it! Arcuth hopped a literal one foot forward, unwilling to commit both feet to the rim of the mud pit that Ghols was trying to peer into. Oh no! Her suspended paw wavered toward her beloved, but she was not entirely willing to touch the dusty shirt.

Whatcha worryin' so much about me for? You're the one going in there! Ghols snorted, folding her arms behind her crop of short black hair, wagging her elbows as she waltzed away from the pit to retrieve her chalk packs. Arcuth receded to her former position and went very still.

Excuse me?

Ghols flapped the back of her hand at her dragon as she rummaged through the pouch pile for the biggest armament, which she affixed to the string belt on her waist. She opened one of the pouches and dipped her hands in, then patted a few rainbow streaks into her hair.

"Yeah!" she yelled with a grin, putting her hands on her hips and twisting back and forth at the waist. She performed a few stretching exercises to loosen up her throwing arm, then glanced at Arcuth. Their nascent bond had gone oddly still. The dragonet remained frigid, and Ghols walked over to poke her in the arm. Arcuth had shot right out of cat-size in the sevendays following the hatchling, and now possessed a bearing more like a small horse.

Weren't you listening? Ghols scolded her. You have to hop in there and get all the dolls so that everybody knows we're the best. Arcuth's dainty sloop of a head pivoted stiffly toward her, facets nearly white. And the flits are going to chuck paint at you but I will protect you. It doesn't even matter though because we get like fourteen freebies.

No.

No what? Ghols noticed the other Weyrlings getting into position and bit the corner of her lip, then moved around to Arcuth's front and took hold of her slender pink forelegs. The small girl began walking backward, and though she could carry the arms out, the talons on Arcuth's back feet snapped into the stone and the rest of her remained rooted.

"Go!" F'reki yelled behind them.

No. NononononononononoNO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Arcuth arched up onto her hindlegs with a shriek, tearing her arms out of Ghols' grasp. She fell onto her back and began thrashing around, kicking everywhere that was not her rider, flapping her wings against the rock and slamming her tail about. ABSOLUTELY NOT I WILL NOT BE SUBJECTED TO SUCH HORRID CONDITIONS AND I... This went on, accompanied by melodic screams from the baby dragon while Ghols stood next to her and, after a moment, started folding her arms across her stomach and holding her elbows, looking off in another direction.

It took a minute for Arcuth to exhaust herself. Ghols looked back, then snatched the pink's tail and began dragging her over to the pit. Arcuth was too caught up in the theater of windlessness to notice until her tailtips had almost touched the mud. AHH! What are you doing?! She tried to stand up, tried to get away, but Ghols had her right on the edge and the dolphineer refused to be thrown off her feet. Arcuth quickly unbalanced and plunged forward- landing on her human partner.

The pink lifted her head. Mud oozed off. A few flits bombed her face with lines of paint, but she blinked it off. She looked around, and almost became aghast at the pit itself before suddenly recalling Ghols. Looking down under her own keel, she saw nothing and drew back with a soft squeal. A couple hands immediately stuck out of the mud, thumbs-up.

Ghols lifted her head out of the dark goo and got up to investigate Arcuth. The pink's back was covered in paint from head to tail, and the mud had worked up all over her belly and legs like the worst kind of countershading. There didn't seem to be any physical issues.

"Fardles," Ghols sniffed, prodding at some of the paint.

Ghols! Language! Arcuth murmured, arching her neck. A few clods of mud dripped off when she moved. Ghols turned around and waved at the Weyrlingmaster.

"We can go again right?" Arcuth sneezed, and both of them were wearing matched patchworks of mud and paint after that.

[Zephyr]

I don’t want to go in there, Re’on! What if I fall and break my leg? A dragon with a broken leg is useless! The blue stood on the edge of the mud pit, not too close as to be teetering, but close enough that he can peer inside without being worried about falling in. Re’on was standing near his tail, wearing one of the terribly tie dyed outfits because why the hell not? Re’on was pretty sure he was sharding hot in anything he wore, so what did it matter what he was wearing. Best not to ruin his own clothes, even though he could wear rags and still make the girls and guys swoon over him.

“You aren’t going to hurt yourself, Cirruth. Just go in slowly. It’ll be fine.” Re’on wasn’t in anymore hurry to jump into the hole than his dragon was, and the bags of colored water that were hanging around his waist and coloring his fingers pink and blue and green weighed him down and didn’t exactly make him eager to jump in. The oldest weyrling wasn’t pleased by this lesson, and as he looked around, he was a little ruffled to see that this was more a spectator sport for the weyrlingmaster’s amusement than it was an actual lesson.

Not like it was really something he was going to get out of though. So the best thing to do was to force Cirruth into the mud and stay out of it himself by any possible means. The blue twisted his neck around to eye his rider, taking his attention off of the mud pit for a split second to eye the boy carefully. You aren’t going to be able to protect me effectively standing up here. If I have to get in there, you should too.

“Cirruth, Cirruth, Cirruth. How can I protect you from inside the pit? Better for me not to get mud on my face, obscuring my vision so I can take those little firelizards down before they can tag you.” He knew part of the blue’s reluctance was an issue with firelizards after what happened with Hera, but he wasn’t exactly traumatized, and the best way for him to get over it was to face it head on. In order to make this happen, Re’on stepped back and over, and started trying to lean against Cirruth to push him into the pit.

The hatchling wasn’t terribly big, but he had enough power in his rear and flank to withstand his boy pressing against him. I just don’t see why getting attacked by firelizards is supposed to teach us anythin… The sentence fell off when a flash of pink drew his attention and Arcuth was tumbling into the pit. Cirruth let out a bugle and took a step closer to the edge of the pit. Arcuth, sister, are you alright? How is your tail? Are all your legs still in working orderAHHG!

[/i] Good thing he had taken his attention off of not falling in, because Re'on was able to push just right and slide the hatchling’s bulk forward.

Cirruth chirruped as he fell, tumbling head over claws into the gooey mud. At least he landed near his pink sister and he popped up out of the mud – probably splattering the pink with more mud in the process – and nudged his sister with a muddy snout. Are you okay Arcuth? I saw you fall and I was worried you’d been hurt!

In the meantime, Re’on was teetering on the edge of the pit. He looked like he was about to fall in, but he managed to keep himself from falling head over heels into the mud. “C’mon, Cirruth, get some dolls!”

Whew. Now that was close.

---

WHAT? This was going to be so much fun. Zo had popped up in K’ius’ room looking for Titania since the red had been spending more time there, chattering about something fun with the new weyrling things and paint and string and mud. It sounded like the best, most perfect prank ever. Sure, Zo had been asking Titania, but the green firelizard probably would have tagged along anyway…but as her red ‘leader’ didn’t seem too interested in it, she decided that she could go with him by herself.

Better yet, Mab had poked her head up from the pile of pets and cheeped her interest in joining.

So the three firelizards popped right over and joined the throng. Puck was beside herself with excitement, rubbing up along Zo and Mab and cheeping happily at the people and dragons, her wings fluttering in her excitement. This is going to be so much fun!

As soon as the biggest human person said go, the green jumped into the air and zoomed in to grab a bit of string, a flash of hot pink and a flash of blue at her side letting her know that her friends were in on it too. She grabbed a bit of string in her talons, dipped it in bright red paint and dropped it onto the back of a flailing, obviously distressed pink hatchling, cackling away with glee.
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[Cathaline]

Be prepared for your clothes to be ruined? Kyrene ran her fingers through her golden-red curls. This must be an infamous mud wrestling lesson. Unlike the rest of her life, she had no real shortage of clothing at the Weyr, and she selected a bland beige tunic and breeches that ended just below her knees; she belted the tunic tightly and bound her hair back, and left her dark ring behind. No way was she going to lose that.

It was obvious from the setup of the lesson that it was supposed to be funny, at least to onlookers. It would be easy for some to get lost in the noise, in the bright colours and the entertaining injuries, but Kyrene pushed it all away. This was work, this was combat, and that was something she understood well, possibly the best of any of the weyrlings. The real problem here would be Calvuth, who took one look at the setup and turned up his nose.

He is trying to make fools of us, Kyrene![/i]

Of course he is. He's F'reki. He's been trying to make fools of us since the day we Impressed.[/i] She gave him a soothing mental pat, trying to calm his metaphorically-ruffled feathers.Do you want to be wingsecond or not? We are built for this challenge. You're small, so it will be harder for them to hit you.[/i]

This is beneath me. This is a game for children![/i]

In his eyes, we are children. We're learning valuable lessons here. Find those dolls, Cal. I'll protect you.[/i]

As soon as F'reki gave the word, they were off, their minds completely fused: Kyrene gave Calvuth the hunter's instincts she had learned from a lifetime of holdlessness, and he gave back his mad, spiraling awareness of the pinpoint minds of the flits circling them. A dark-hided brown (Lion, lent to the proceedings by Delilah) came at them, and as soon as Kyrene felt her foot slip, she clamped her fingers down on the bag so as not to waste the dust; she was not going to be able to hit him this time. She did manage to take a lash of bright green Thread-paint right across the face, and she grunted as she pushed herself back up. Lion winged away to try to score someone else, and Calvuth, not pristine but at least not painted, scrabbled in the mud to find a doll.

[Digitalis]

Phaenna watched the newest class of weyrlings from a safe (not to mention clean) distance with the rest of the spectators. She was trying not to be envious of them, but it was hard. The lesson looked like fun, even if some of the weyrlings were less than pleased, and anyway, there was quite a lot she would have put up with for the sake of a dragon. Ah well, she thought with a sigh. It wasn't like they could all be dragonriders, or the Weyr would be overrun.

The least she could do was offer her new friend Valen for the event. The black fire lizard was still tiny compared to most of the older 'lizards, but he was strong enough and smart enough to help out. He hummed thoughtfully to himself as he watched the dragons; no doubt he was already planning great feats of strategy and daring to 'score' as many weyrlings as possible.

As soon as the signal was given, Valen chirped excitedly and grabbed five or six pieces of string in his mouth at once and dipped them in the paint. As young as he was, even the weight of the paint dripping from the strings dragged him down a little, and his wings flapped furiously as he tried to get to the weyrlings. Things got chaotic quickly, between flailing dragonets and tons of flitters, and Valen decided to get rid of his strings quickly. He did an awkward twirl in the air and tossed his strings all around him. Hovering just above the mud, he gave a croon of disappointment. Aiming hadn't been high on his list of strategy, so most of them had ended up buried in the mud.

[Nia]

The message from Grieth did not make Emiya or her dragon very happy. "Man, I only have one good set 'f work clothes...." she muttered, digging through her clothing chest for something that she didn't mind trashing. Her dirty overalls that she Smithed in were kind of sentimental, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to ruin them. Eventually Emiya settled on a plain pair of slacks and a slightly ripped shirt, pulling them on. Noctulith had a bit of a similar opinion of the lesson, though his was for different reasons.

The pair left Emiya's room. This is idiotic, Noctulith began complaining as they arrived and F'reki explained what they were going to be doing. There's no brainpower involved. It's all just running around and crashing into each other. There's no thought to be put into it at all,

[/i] he continued, eyeing the mud unhappily. Physical activity was not his strong point, he was much better suited to sitting back and planning things rather than actually getting into the action. Emiya sighed and put a hand on his head. We'll be fine! You jus' dive for stuff, I'll protect ya. It's not even that difficult, Emiya replied, though Noctulith didn't seem very satisfied by her answer.

F'reki started the mark and both Emiya and Noctulith hesitated. The pair eyed poor Arcuth and Ghols off to the side, and also Kyrene and Calvuth, before looking back at the mud. "Well, c'mon then," she urged Noctulith, who was still eyeing the mud warily. Eventually Emiya sighed and pushed Noctulith into the mud, with the Black being so little and light that it was easy to shove him in. Unlike Arcuth he didn't spaz out and simply flopped lifelessly into the mud. C'mon, get up! Emiya urged, flinging some dust at Brown Oroz, who had come over trying to take advantage of Noctulith's lifeless flop into the mud.

Off to the side, Joni accepted poor Oroz as he flickered back between to her, letting the little Brown curl up in her arms out of shame. Poor guy. One, Ohm and Ora were still off in the mud however, covered generously in paint as the three girls attempted to hit dragons with their paint. A bit of a way away from Joni stood Avalle, who had let Yulari participate in the lesson mostly out of her own amusement. Avalle was quite a big fan of F'reki and his mud-related lessons, so she generally made it a point to come out and watch his lessons whenever she could. Yulari was enjoying herself immensely, so that was another plus. The Yellow needed a stress-reliever, as did her bonded.

Back with Emiya and Noctulith, the Black had managed to get to his feet without tripping over his somewhat gangly limbs, and he'd been crawling through the mud looking for dolls while Emiya lunged in front of him to protect him from firelizards. She was gradually getting more energetic about the lesson now that the initial shock of the mud had worn off. Look out! she exclaimed while jumping over Noctulith with a handful of powder. Ohm chirped unhappily and avoided the powder, flying off to try again on another dragon.

Yulari lunged at Emiya's head instead of Noctulith, probably as a distraction, causing the girl to screech and trip over her dragon and land backwards in the mud. Quick to respond, Emiya quickly threw handfuls of powder at the Yellow flitter, who responded by landing in the girl's hair to cover it in paint. "Hey, get off! You're supposed to be attackin' the dragons, aren't ya?!" she yelled at the flitter, who seemed to realize what she was doing and flew far away from Emi and Noctulith to attack someone else. Emiya flopped back in the mud. Come on, get up,[/i] Noctulith said, mocking his rider's voice from earlier, leaning over her. "Oh, stuff it," she muttered, sitting up and immediately throwing a puff of powder at a firelizard coming their way.[/blockquote][/size]

[Gray]

Word had got through the grapevine. This was their time. No, it was his time. His time to shine! He would devise the most cunning of plans, and he would get the others to bend to his will! Not a hide would be left unmarred! He was there! He was ready! He was- wait, he was falling! Nevermore clawed at the air, for a moment forgetting how to fly. Eyes whirling yellow, Masque chirped to his purple brother. Oh! He had not seen him there. He hadn't meant to! The black's body quickly reacted though and his wings caught the air before he actually hit the muddy ground. Hoarsely grumbling at his minion, the smoky black went back to their small perch to await the Weyrlings, and the signal to start.

“Oh, our cloths can be ruined? That's...” He trailed off, running a few fingers though his hair. It wasn't like he was back home, with only a few patched and weathered pieces of apparel to choose from. But he still didn't like it. It was a waste.
Come on A'til! It's just a little bit of clothing. I'm sure you've got something you can throw away! A'til winced a bit. He was still getting used to Asperath's booming voice.
“Asperath, a little softer? Please?” they were working on that. The viridian had a habit of being just a bit too loud, making A'til feel like his head was going to crumble. Asperath looked away, slightly sheepish.
Sorry, but you know we can't let Lenticuth get there first! For a moment, A'til swore the young sub-king was actually wagging his tail.

He knew if he had kept his clothes he wore when he arrived, he could wear those. But he didn't. So he would have to use either those given to him by them, or ruin some of his newer acquisitions. The decision was a difficult one.
How about this one? The dragon had taken his bonded's pause to root through the trunk himself, and came up with a lightly faded, dark grey shirt stuck around one headknob. A'til stared for a moment, caught somewhere between surprise and laughter. Then snatching it from the viridian's horn, he pulled the shirt over his head.
“Good enough, I guess. It looks like it's had better days, and I guess we could put something over it.” Asperath's eyes whirled as he circled around A'til.
Come on then! Finish and hurry! And so, A'til did just that with out any fuss.

When they arrived at the mudpit, A'til gave Basilidisi a fleeting smile as he picked up a brightly dyed shirt larger than the one he wore. While others eyed the mud with dismay, Asperath saw it as a challenge. A'til listened while sweeping his eyes over the pit. Mud was nothing, and Asperath seemed to share his ideas. Walking over to scoop up his pouches of chalk dust, he kept an eye on the viridian.
Are you ready? He almost regretted it as soon as he asked it.
I was hatched ready! Come on, we're going to get the most. Or at least more than Lenticuth. A'til almost rolled his eyes, but instead, he focused on fastening his extra pouches to his belt.

When F'reki told them to go, Asperath barreled into the mud, only to stumble as he tried to whip around to look at Arcuth. Slipping onto his side, he let out a surprised bugle and scrambled to get up.
Arcuth! Cirruth! Noctiluth!
No, they're fine. Dig. A'til narrowed his eyes and dodged a green streak. Asperath looked back to his siblings but turned to the mud. His was right, he had to dig. Rooting around in the mud, he tried to make himself as small a target as possible, which turned out to be quite difficult.

A'til rolled bits of dust between his fingers, prepared to fling more as needed. Maw filled with painty string, Masque dived down, eager to strike his new 'brother' with the mess. Man Asperath would be so mad, but it would be so fun! Only to get a bunch of chalk across his hide. Squawking, he turned to A'til and ende3d up dropping his glob onto the blond's hair. Nevermore, for the most part, was trying to direct others instead of actually paint up the Weyrlings himself. Flitting around to varying groups, he practically spammed them with ideas. Rains of painted thread. Getting the dragonets tangled together. A paint soaked F'reki. Then he could get himself some of that dust! It was colorful. He liked that.


Dainty had almost not partaken, but R'ev suggested that she could pretend she was painting Sugeth, and she had been sold. To her, all these dragonets were green and striped. Eyes whirling orange, she snatched up some string and dipped it into the paint. That one! That one complained just like Sugeth! Dive-bombing Arcuth, she prepared to let loose her 'deadly' cargo.

Not far from her, Quince honked, paint already splattering her, and a thick, sodden string draped over her head. She flew wobbly over the pit, another string in her mouth. Unlike the orange, she didn't care who she hit, as much as how many she hit, so doing a quick corkscrew, she flung her strings into the waiting pit.

Jonah had also decided to join. For news purposes of course! HE barely slowed down to grab his globby piece of string, and was now doing quick circles to pick up speed. Faceted eyes whirling blue, he looked at allll the targets beneath him. Unfortunately, there was no spiderwher because it was day. But there were plenty of blacks! Blacks like him! Blacks like Spiderwher! In fact. He would get one. Yes. Yes he would. Focusing on Calvuth, he went to imitate Dainty and dive-bomb, when Nevermore's mental spam hit him like a truck. Darn it these weren't the pictures he wanted! It made him falter, and for a moment, he just stopped flying. Letting out a creel, he caught himself, but dropped his string and was still not able to slow his momentum. So he became a little black streak that landed with a loud 'Plop' in mud, spraying it around him as he rolled and skidded to a half.

[Ondine]

It definitely different having a dragonet bonded to you than being a candidate. For one, they had to take care of the lovely creatures at all hours of the day. For another, it was just...different to have someone to talk to at all times, who wanted to speak to you and was...a shard of you that had never been there, in its proper place. That was the only way that Maren could describe how Altostrath felt. So when the orders from their sadistic weyrlingmaster came into their head, she knew instantly what her cyan's reaction would be, and it came within a heartbeat.

There was a huge surge of joy, and then the cyan squealed, Oh, oh, Marenmine! It's a lesson! And we're going to get dirty! I think. Um, are we going to be outside? I really really hope that we're outside. It's a pity that it's bright outside, our little sister can't join us! Come on lazybones, we've got to go or we'll miss all the fun! Maren was, however, in the process of putting on some old clothing that she was otherwise going to have to toss. She smiled and spoke back to her growing dragonet, who was currently racing around the room at full tilt. “Just have to put on the right clothing and we'll be out the door, Mine.”

That seemed to be enough to momentarily pacify her bundle of optimism for long enough to get them out the door, passing by a girl with plenty of clothing in various eye-popping colors for everyone. Altostrath coo'd as she passed by, but was more attracted to the specter of daylight ahead. As she got the first few rays of sun on her hide she gave a little bark of delight and romped around in the sun as Maren walked peacefully forward, and indulgent smile on her face. Oh, oh! We get to be outside! Maren, this is the best news EVER. Come on, surely F'reki is going to give us a wonderful lesson!

The weyrling was unsure about that, especially given the spectators and the giant pit of mud. Sure enough, the lesson itself was going to get her clothing absolutely ruined by paint and mud. Some of the more serious dragons would undoubtedly be seriously put off by this, but her cyan was beside herself with joy. The only trouble was...Oh Maren! My Maren! We get to play in the mud and do keepaway with the flits! But I don't want to find the dolls, it sounds kinda boring. Like work. I don't want to do work on such a gorgeous day like today, we could play! The human just smiled and took a moment to respond, Think of it like a treasure hunt. Can you find more dolls than anyone else?

And just like that, Altostrath's attitude totally switched around, and she puffed up slightly, I will be the best finder there ever was! Come on Maren, you gotta protect me from the flits. I mean Thread! She smiled lightly and moved to the edge of the pit, grabbing a bag, and waited for the signal to jump in. Altostrath was in like a bolt from a crossbow, happily romping in the mud (it was just another excuse to get a bath and an oiling, pristine and shining in the sun after this), while her human was a bit slower. A flitter came swooping in and Maren was too far behind to catch it, so it dumped paint across Altostrath's arm, something that was swiftly embedded back into the mud in her search for a doll.

[lee]

ooc; Re’on shamelessly sacrificed appropriated with Zep’s permission!

Lenticuth moved like a dancer.

T’yer, notably, did not.

This was rather immediately apparent as the viridian approached like living liquid, while T’yer tripped over a pants leg re-robing himself in a fantastically tie-dyed teal number with mulberry spots. He had all kinds of clothes that he didn’t mind getting dirty (one did not become a Journeyman Healer without getting rather regularly doused in general bodily fluids from time to time) but there was absolutely no way he was digs like these. Finding a tie-dyed strip of blindingly green, T’yer grinned and tied it around his forehead like a headband, flashing an even broarder grin at Basilidisi before holding up a similar sized one in purple and murmured, "Oh Leeeenticuth…"

Not a chance.

[/color]

T’yer chuckled. Okay, Mr. Cool. No warrior headband for you. Let’s go! With a charge, the tall boy went to enter the pit—and tumbled head over heels into the mud. With a resounding squelch, said head was swallowed quite entirely by mud. A muffled ‘mmmphMMMPH’ escaped, followed by bubbles that rose sullenly to pop like melting cheese where the weyrling’s head was roughly located. Seeing that his dragon was subsequently unprotected, a small swarm of fire lizards immediately chucked their strings. Lenticuth dove, but there was no way…he had a plan. With a clap pf his forelegs as he spun deftly on them, the viridian twisted into almost a handstand, tail whipping out whallop Re’on and bring him tumbling down into the mud on top of Lenticuth, a human shield for the viridian. Their combined weight sunk them further into the mud, and Lenticuth seized the opportunity to hunt around with his snout before wriggling up, light on his feet as he tried to move quickly to avoid sinking further and getting ‘scored’. He’d apologize to Cirruth later. Maybe. To ease the worrying blue's mind, he nudged the fallen Weyrling in his direction, with a cheeky, Hey Cirruth, special delivery...

T’yer had righted himself by this time, sinking on his knees in the mud but trying to keep up with his much more agile viridian—he did spare an apologetically sheepish smile at Re’on, ruined a bit by mud dripping from his curls into his face—and called out a "Hey!" As a growling Lenticuth snapped his teeth at the flitter who had dared score Altostrath. Touched, but nevertheless determined, T’yer didn’t have it in him to chide the dragon for being distracted from doll hunting. He was surprised, though, that Lenticuth hadn’t yet challenged Asperat, but he could sense the competitive spirit even if Lenticuth didn’t outright mention it.

--

F’dren sat on the sidelines, sipping his klah with considerable amusement at the spectacle. The poor pink screeching a fit, cyan’s hopping like happy jumpers. Good fun. Haprksiklahd was hard at work, strings in hand as he zoomed over the pit, scattering string down at Calvuth and sneaky-like from the side at Noctiluth with a fire lizard snicker that almost suggested the large brown was enjoying himself. He just wouldn’t let the Big Blue Flit know or he’d never hear the end of it.
[/blockquote][/size]

[Reky]

Pileuth always enjoyed lessons. She was, by nature, very active and very caring, and to spend time stretching her legs and body in the company of her siblings was incredibly satisfying. She glowed at lessons; she loved them. C'lis, on the other hand, was only enthusiastic on a very basic level - he was intelligent, he would do well, and he would graduate. He didn't particularly like the social aspect of it all but he humored Pileuth, and was at least polite to his fellow weyrlings. In any case, the cyan knew him better than he knew himself, and she took good care of him.

The day's announcement, though, worried C'lis. Wear clothes he's not attached to? His wardrobe, since leaving Western, was minimal and he had only kept the essentials. They were all expensive and tailored. He couldn't afford to part with even the basest of tunics, and he wormed into his breeches with a grimace on his face. His dragon, whose shoulders now came to his chest, curled her neck so that she could preen his harsh-cut hair with her beaklike maw. She slid the side of her face down the smooth, golden hair, feeling how soft it was, and gently nudged the bridge of C'lis' strong nose. When he was upset with her, he called her an overgrown wherry, or a chicken, always preening and brooding. He wasn't upset at her today, though, just at the prospect of the lesson.

Dressed plainly, he lead Pileuth out into the bowl. She stretched her long wings in the sunshine, whistling and cooing. As they approached their class, Pileuth greeted each of her siblings in turn. Hello, Arcuth, Cirruth, Calvuth! Good morning, Noctiluth, Asperath. You look well, Lenticuth, Altostrath, Mulonimath.

[/i] Then, she looked over at her rider. Don't worry so much, she offered warmly, eyeing the mud pit. Oh, my poor little man, so neat and tidy. We'll have a good bath after, get you all clean. It was all affectionate and sweet, but C'lis kept his nose in the air. He wasn't looking forward to wading in mud, and only felt more reluctant as F'reki explained the activity. Children play in the mud, he thought vehemently, always trying to prove his maturity since he had Impressed Pileuth. She made him feel like an infant.

Begrudgingly, C'lis stripped with his back to the group and put on a set of Basilidisi's garish sacrificial clothes. Better for them to get ruined, he thought, since they were so ugly in the first place. Mud would be a better color on them. Idly, he bent at the waist and stretched for his toes; threw his arms back and stretched that way, too. Then, they got the signal, and Pileuth sprang into the mud. C'lis, more cautiously, clambered up onto her shoulders with his baggies in his hands. With an enthusiastic urgency, Pileuth plodded through the mud. Oh--! she said, and lost her footing, sending C'lis back-first into the mud. I felt a doll, I think, she said, and turned about, stepping carefully. Where did it go?

Now sufficiently coated, C'lis struggled to get upright again and, finding purchase, frowned fiercely. Mud oozed down between his shoulder blades and clung to his hair and clothes. He had only just barely managed to keep his bags of "fire" powder dry. Just find it, he demanded.

I'm working on it--

Just get it. "Ah!" he said, almost tripping again, as a bright pink firelizard, Meeka, zipped over his head, dragging her painty string over his hair. She was headed for Pileuth, whose head was down, trying to be careful with her feet to find the doll. He fumbled with his powder, managing to get the bag open and shake it at the pink a second to late. She had gotten Pileuth, but C'lis had gotten her, and the lizard was out. He had meant to hold onto the bag, though, and he had dropped it in the mud instead. He wanted to say something like 'shard it to the sharding Red Star and back' but he sucked in a sharp, loud breath instead. He grabbed the bag and hoped it was still usable.

The pink, now smattered with powder, chittered unhappily at her ruined paint-and-string art project. She glided back to V'itka of black Tizenketh and roosted on his shoulder. He laughed and grinned; watching the poor weyrlings was good fun.[/size][/blockquote]

[Chek]

F’reki, for a time, was content to watch his Blizardbaiters slip and slide and make fools of themselves as they were bombarded relentlessly by the flitters above. After a few rough starts, the weyrlings seemed to gather themselves up and really make an effort in the exercise. Dragons were leaving little piles of simple dolls all over, and more and more flitters were going down to the cleaning station, marked with chalk dust.

Finally, he nodded to Girieth, who let out a sharp whistle. All flitters immediately returned to their owners (prompting no few sighs and complaints as the muddy things ruined clothing left and right) and F’reki started waving his weyrlings in.

His troops, arrayed in color and mud, soon stood before him, “Excellent! Very good, weyrlings, you’ve done well. The following weyrlings are excused from cleanup duty for assorted reasons: Ghols and Arcuth, for being utterly hilarious, you are excused. Re’on and Cirruth, for being adorable and adding to Ghols and Arcuth’s hilarity, you are free to go. Kyrene, Calvuth, for avoiding the most hits – yes, I was counting – you are excused. Emiya, Noctulith, you are also excused – congratulations on bringing in the most dolls. A’til and Asperath, for taking down the most firelizards, you also get to leave. Maren, Altostrath, for being overly enthusiastic about the mud, go get cleaned up, you’re free. T’yer, Lenticuth, because I know who have mud in every orifice after that header you took, I’m taking pity; you can go get cleaned up. Finally, C’lis, Pileuth for the most vicious takedown of an attacking firelizard, enjoy your freedom. Which means that I’m actually just basically letting you all go now, since the drudges traded cleanup for free time to watch the entertainment. Good job, you lucky, lucky weyrlings! Enjoy the envy of your predecessors.”


OOC: Okay, this one has dragged out long enough, so I’m calling it. Achievements decided by random drawing based on attendance. Thank ya’ll for making this nearly a perfect attendance lesson! Next lesson will be in a few days.