Post by purnip on Feb 3, 2010 23:49:10 GMT -5
Greetings were the manners of yesterdays long past. Dead like the science of learning to sow seed, what was the use? They should know of his transfer by now. B'wie was blissfully unaware of Dalibor's problems with renegades and if he had known, he still would have not changed his tune. The Whiterider's coat flapped behind him, sounding sweetly like chaotic disruption. No one was watching and Thread was not falling. He would wear what he pleased. Sjanseth had little trouble flying whist his rider wore the thing and he rather liked the sound himself. It accentuated the feeling of forward motion, speed, power, sounds that matched the sound of heartbeats, and puffs of breath. No, he did not mind it in the least. He flew lower, trying to warm himself and his rider up after having just emerged from between. That place always exhilarated his rider so much. The White didn't approve of his rider's obsession with that cold empty hole. Between was nothing to take lightly. Riders with their heads in the clouds get lost there never to be seen. It is a place of death, yet B'wie saw it as a place of wonder. He believed it to be more than just a path from here to there. Whenever he spoke of his uncanny theories a sparkle came to his eyes. Sjanseth was willing to tolerate theories as long as B'wie did nothing to get himself hurt. That one obsession was the most dangerous.
"I see it! Sjanseth, slip in as painlessly as possible! I want to start exploring as soon as our feet touch the ground!" B'wie clung tighter to his White, trying hard to put all the sorrow behind him just for today. He should be thrilled. This was his first time in a turn since he left Telgar and this would be his first time ever visiting Dalibor. There would be more records there, no doubt, as well as a suitable space to conduct experimentations and preform field tests. He already had a his mind set on an experiment he wanted to conduct post-haste. This island bound Weyr had Hatching Sands of its own. After studying the Sands at Telgar and at Ista, he found himself concluding that more landmass contained the heat on the Sands. Heat was emitted from the ground, for the Sands were always deeper or closer to mountains and cliffsides were there was more terrain--etched into the surface of Pern as caves. But hot sands on an island? Would not the water cool the earth down and prevent heat from rising? How far did the Sands have to be from the surface before they would start heating up or cooling down? Questions formulated in his mind as Sjanseth began to spiral down slowly with the grace of a creature his size. He was an average flier at best. Muscles in his lean arms and legs suggested that he did more walking than the average dragon.
Upon nearing the Weyr, the White was sensitive to a vibe in the air of great dischord. Sjanseth stiffened as he began to descend more harshly. B'wie failed to notice the change right away, completely oblivious to the current situation or to his dragon's sudden discomfort. He was still scheming as to how he would dig through the Sands without being disturbed as he was the last few times he was caught at Telgar.
The dragon didn't take offense. He knew his rider wasn't sensitive to these sorts of things. He was going to have to tell him, once the message became clear. Sjanseth reached out and called for an answer, after introducing himself of course. Once he received it, he was not longer as stiff. This was a serious incident indeed, but it had nothing to do with them. They weren't kidnappers after all. He did decide it was important enough to inform B'wie about it.
The Weyrwoman's child was stolen from here last night. Expect disruptions; you are likely to receive a multitude of them at the rate this situation is peaking.
Such dreary news, yet Sjanseth's diction and stable voice was sanding down those edges of odious warnings into friendly reminders. He should only expect to be approached and questioned once or twice. No harm in that. Perhaps he could slip to the Sands first--he was quite excited to understand the geothermal phenomenon himself, in his own special way. "Pah! Disruptions. I'll shove them aside! We've investigations to run, after all! Before dark, preferably." He smirked, his words quick and sharp like his thoughts ever circulating. "I've planned to record the the direction of wind flow in this area. I do hope I brought that flag I made that Summer, you know, the one I put together with Y'dikar's undergarments." The memory caused him to smirk.
Sjanseth remembered. He didn't think it was that funny, but apparently it was a sort of joke a human can play on another in good fun. Why was that Bluerider so angry then? The dragon didn't dwell on it much. They were already nearing the Bowl's ground. Sjanseth extended his limbs to land softly. B'wie nearly scrambled off him before he had a chance to kneel down. You are rather anxious, are you?
Once B'wie got his balance, he gave a quick glance about before beginning to run for the entrance to the Weyr. "Come on, Seth! We haven't got long!"
The White would have sighed, but he had better catch up to his rider anyways. Fortunately he was fighter small, if not slightly smaller. He would have always been left behind had he been a Bronze, Brown, or even a Blue. He fit well enough into halls as long as they weren't packed.
They weren't in the slightest. Because all the Weyrlings and Candidates were under lock down until the crisis was averted, the halls weren't as busy as they might have been. B'wie was still darting down the halls, but he came to a complete halt when he realized that he was unaware as to where the Hatching Sands were located. He put a finger to his mouth, biting it for a moment as he mused. His sense of direction was never all that great. "Seth?" He turned, hearing his White's quickened steps approach. He managed to catch up. Normally he could run faster, but Sjanseth was being cautious. "Glad you could make it. You wouldn't happen to know where the Hatching Sands would be, would you?"
The While paused and gave it a thought. Would you like me to ask one of the firelizards?
B'wie gave a quick and satisfied nod. "Brilliant suggestion!"
Sjanseth began to concentrate, reaching out for a flit to contact. He managed to find one and asked. A few images came to mind, and the White subsequently passed them to his rider.
"Yes...yes, that'll do! Thank him will you! And off we go!"
Once again, the Whiterider was off and his dragon close behind, mentally tagging a 'thank you' as he sped off with His. It took a few dashes down a few halls, but they finally made it to the cavern. B'wie stepped on to the Sands, his shoes protecting him from the warmth, but instead of being grateful for that, he took one shoe off and slipped his foot into the sand, quick to withdraw it. "Warmth indeed! I believe we've a mystery to solve, my dear Seth!"
"I see it! Sjanseth, slip in as painlessly as possible! I want to start exploring as soon as our feet touch the ground!" B'wie clung tighter to his White, trying hard to put all the sorrow behind him just for today. He should be thrilled. This was his first time in a turn since he left Telgar and this would be his first time ever visiting Dalibor. There would be more records there, no doubt, as well as a suitable space to conduct experimentations and preform field tests. He already had a his mind set on an experiment he wanted to conduct post-haste. This island bound Weyr had Hatching Sands of its own. After studying the Sands at Telgar and at Ista, he found himself concluding that more landmass contained the heat on the Sands. Heat was emitted from the ground, for the Sands were always deeper or closer to mountains and cliffsides were there was more terrain--etched into the surface of Pern as caves. But hot sands on an island? Would not the water cool the earth down and prevent heat from rising? How far did the Sands have to be from the surface before they would start heating up or cooling down? Questions formulated in his mind as Sjanseth began to spiral down slowly with the grace of a creature his size. He was an average flier at best. Muscles in his lean arms and legs suggested that he did more walking than the average dragon.
Upon nearing the Weyr, the White was sensitive to a vibe in the air of great dischord. Sjanseth stiffened as he began to descend more harshly. B'wie failed to notice the change right away, completely oblivious to the current situation or to his dragon's sudden discomfort. He was still scheming as to how he would dig through the Sands without being disturbed as he was the last few times he was caught at Telgar.
The dragon didn't take offense. He knew his rider wasn't sensitive to these sorts of things. He was going to have to tell him, once the message became clear. Sjanseth reached out and called for an answer, after introducing himself of course. Once he received it, he was not longer as stiff. This was a serious incident indeed, but it had nothing to do with them. They weren't kidnappers after all. He did decide it was important enough to inform B'wie about it.
The Weyrwoman's child was stolen from here last night. Expect disruptions; you are likely to receive a multitude of them at the rate this situation is peaking.
Such dreary news, yet Sjanseth's diction and stable voice was sanding down those edges of odious warnings into friendly reminders. He should only expect to be approached and questioned once or twice. No harm in that. Perhaps he could slip to the Sands first--he was quite excited to understand the geothermal phenomenon himself, in his own special way. "Pah! Disruptions. I'll shove them aside! We've investigations to run, after all! Before dark, preferably." He smirked, his words quick and sharp like his thoughts ever circulating. "I've planned to record the the direction of wind flow in this area. I do hope I brought that flag I made that Summer, you know, the one I put together with Y'dikar's undergarments." The memory caused him to smirk.
Sjanseth remembered. He didn't think it was that funny, but apparently it was a sort of joke a human can play on another in good fun. Why was that Bluerider so angry then? The dragon didn't dwell on it much. They were already nearing the Bowl's ground. Sjanseth extended his limbs to land softly. B'wie nearly scrambled off him before he had a chance to kneel down. You are rather anxious, are you?
Once B'wie got his balance, he gave a quick glance about before beginning to run for the entrance to the Weyr. "Come on, Seth! We haven't got long!"
The White would have sighed, but he had better catch up to his rider anyways. Fortunately he was fighter small, if not slightly smaller. He would have always been left behind had he been a Bronze, Brown, or even a Blue. He fit well enough into halls as long as they weren't packed.
They weren't in the slightest. Because all the Weyrlings and Candidates were under lock down until the crisis was averted, the halls weren't as busy as they might have been. B'wie was still darting down the halls, but he came to a complete halt when he realized that he was unaware as to where the Hatching Sands were located. He put a finger to his mouth, biting it for a moment as he mused. His sense of direction was never all that great. "Seth?" He turned, hearing his White's quickened steps approach. He managed to catch up. Normally he could run faster, but Sjanseth was being cautious. "Glad you could make it. You wouldn't happen to know where the Hatching Sands would be, would you?"
The While paused and gave it a thought. Would you like me to ask one of the firelizards?
B'wie gave a quick and satisfied nod. "Brilliant suggestion!"
Sjanseth began to concentrate, reaching out for a flit to contact. He managed to find one and asked. A few images came to mind, and the White subsequently passed them to his rider.
"Yes...yes, that'll do! Thank him will you! And off we go!"
Once again, the Whiterider was off and his dragon close behind, mentally tagging a 'thank you' as he sped off with His. It took a few dashes down a few halls, but they finally made it to the cavern. B'wie stepped on to the Sands, his shoes protecting him from the warmth, but instead of being grateful for that, he took one shoe off and slipped his foot into the sand, quick to withdraw it. "Warmth indeed! I believe we've a mystery to solve, my dear Seth!"
