Stealing a bite...

[Lan]

It was a misty, early morning that C'lin awoke to, snuggling between the forearms of Reyith with a furry blanket curled around him. His eyelids rose slowly, drowsy eyes taking in the grey-blue tones of pre-morning daylight. At first he tried to turn over and bury his face into Reyith's musty smell in an attempt to return to sweet sleep. But it was no use. The black dragon was still fast asleep, and here C'lin was aroused against his will. Stupid internal clocks. He would never understand them. Yet they had their uses, especially if one had something to be up for. Perhaps he would find that something, he reasoned as he cautiously slipped from his warm space in the cradle Reyith had provided. He left the blanket there to simulate his warmth and slipped on a tunic to cover his bare torso. With one last look at the beloved little beast, he slipped silently from his weyr and wandered groggily to the kitchens.

It was close to time for breakfast to be served, but C'lin was not of the mood to eat with a large crowd this morning. Plus, he thought as his stomach rumbled pleadingly, he would rather have his breakfast now so he could take Reyith out hunting. He really didn't need to anymore, but he did love watching the black dragon hunt. One could say he almost got a perverse thrill in watching the magnificent creature, his life partner, tearing another living thing apart. He knew it wasn't necessarily a good thing, but it was a joy that C'lin hadn't been able to shake.

The kitchens were bubbling over with the preparations for the morning meal and C'lin stealthily weaved through the many chaotic happenings going on. With a boyish grin at one of the cooks, he swiped a couple of spicerolls that had been set out to cool. 'You get back here with that, C'lin!' The woman cried indignantly as C'lin then attempted to pour himself a small bowl of soup. 'What do you think you're doing, sneaking in here like that?!'

'But... but... I'm starving!' C'lin replied, sticking out his bottom lip and fluctuating his tone like a twice-beaten weyrling.

'I won't stand for that, now... you hear! Now leave those here.' The woman pointed to a counter with just enough space to occupy the goods he had stolen. Sullenly, his head held down over-dramatically in shame, C'lin replaced the cup of soup and the spiceroll. Then, almost too quickly for innocence, he scurried out of the kitchen on his tall, yet quick legs.

He found himself sitting at a table out of the way in the dining hall, devouring the one spiceroll he had managed to smuggle out of the kitchen. His eyes squinted with pleasure and he licked his fingers clean of the remnants of the delicious taste when he was done. About that time people had apparently started to awake for their meal, for more footsteps could be heard approaching. Reyith had apparently been awake for a while, for waves of guilt were now invading his mind. He hadn't liked his stunt that he pulled in the kitchen.

Yeah, yeah... C'lin sighed inwardly, But I WAS hungry. Besides, they have so much food... they don't mind. Reyith relayed nothing for a long while, then showed C'lin a mental picture of some grazing herdbeasts. He would go hunting without C'lin today. Fine. Enjoy yourself. He mentally snapped at the dragon, hurt at not being able to accompany his friend as was his favorite pasttime. Suddenly a warm emotion filled his mind, like a loving embrace in a mental fashion. It soothed C'lin's frustration.

I love you. And with that, Reyith took off toward his destination, although his mind was still gently linked with his rider's. C'lin had been so focused on the exchange, he hadn't noticed the slowly approaching footsteps.

[Kila]

O'sho had risen before Pern's sun, when the stars were still nestled comfortably in the dark sky and the majority of the weyrfolk were still nestled comfortably in their beds. This silence, penetrated only by the soft sounds of a Wher or the flapping of the watchdragon, was its own kind of beautiful music to him. He gradually came into consciousness around the same time every morning and rolled himself out of bed. He took his mornings in silence, not speaking to Daidoroth even though he could feel that the great Bronze was awake nearby. He stretched, and then he sat in perfect stillness to clear his mind of any fuzzy thoughts and welcome the day with a fresh perspective.

Today was no exception to his usual routine. O'sho finished his period of mindful quiet and then exited his cluttered and seemingly disorganized Weyr. Daidoroth rose as well, spreading his wings and gliding off his ledge to meet the morning. While dragon surveyed things from the sky, rider took a long walk around the Weyr. He eventually wound up in the kitchen, where the drudges, most likely the only other cognizant people around, had already begun to prepare everyone's first meal.

Raising his hand in greeting, O'sho entered the kitchen, showing his readiness to help. He hated to be idle at such a time, and enjoyed the concentration and rhythm that cooking required. The woman in charge of the kitchens was growing accostumed to this unexpected morning helper, and jovially pointed him in the direction of something he could do. Giving the assigned task his attention, he worked methodically until sleepy riders began to filter into the kitchen looking for breakfast. Everything almost completed, he slipped out and sat at a table to wait for the food to be served.

The little thing is hungry Daidoroth informed him. His voice boomed like wide drums through O'sho's head, breaking his morning silence. By now there was light in the pale sky and he did not mind. Sure enough O'sho looked down and Oblivion had crawled onto the table and was hunched down close upon it beside O'sho's right arm. The little Blacks wing was crooked and he held it out to one side. Pieces of his wingsail were tattered and an ugly scar marred his muzzle. Even his posture and he way he conducted himself made him look intimidating for his very small size.

"Good morning," O'sho greeted him, looking down with mirth at the wretched creature. Oblivion lifted his head slightly so that his eyes met O'sho's. The rider felt very sharp sensations of hunger, irritation, and anger simultaneously. "So you're hungry. Well so is everyone else in here, you'll just have to wait a little longer," he said chidingly, as if speaking to a child. Oblivion gave him a withering glare, oozing cold waves of hatred, before he turned his attention further down the table to where a boy sat, licking his fingers. The flit was in motion without a second thought, digging his claws into the table and half dragging, half crawling down the middle of the table toward the lad. O'sho sighed, concerned for the other riders livelihood. Pushing back the bench and standing, O'sho strode over in just enough time, picking Oblivion up just as he was about to launch himself onto his victim with a throaty hiss to secure C'lin's attention.

O'sho plucked him from the table just as he unleashed his hiss. "You'd best pay closer attention to what's going on around you," he said cheerfully, tucking the enraged firelizard under his arm.

[Lan]

C'lin had just regained consciousness of the world around him when he saw a sudden flash of black hide blur in front of his vision. He froze, eyes wide and startled at some frightening thing that his mind had yet to process. In that instant he felt the comforting presence of Reyith's mind heighten as the dragon checked in on what had distressed his rider. He blinked dumbly, checked his breathing that had halted in that split second, then wondered up at the man who had snatched up the writhing black mass that was hissing dangerously. It was a firelizard, badly injured by the looks of its wing, and clearly hungry and irritated. At first he didn't know what to say, looking up at the older man with some gratitude for being saved from injuries of firelizard claws, no matter how minor they may have been.

'Umm... thanks,' He began slowly at first, still somewhat stunned, then picked up his usual charm and momentum, 'I'll try to remember that next time a firelizard tries to eat my face off.'

Reyith's gentle mind pressed against his yet again and flurries of worry and inquiry tingled through his body. The black dragon had already captured his meal, but had held off in eating it until he discovered whether his rider was okay. In an odd way, this comforted C'lin, dispersing the last bits of animosity he had for the great, gentle beast. After sharing a mental image of the Candidate Master and the little black firelizard he smothered his friend in emotions of love, gratitude, and endearment. As Reyith again retreated from his mind, C'lin could almost feel the hum of contentment as the dragon ripped finally into the flesh of its chosen meal.

Again C'lin surveyed the man and the dragon-in-miniature that stood before him. Although he knew the rider to be the Candidate Master at Dalibor Weyr, he couldn't boast of having any meaningful or entertaining conversations with the man. Since he had impressed and finished his training at another weyr, he had seen no use and had no opportunity to form a relationship with a man of such station here. But perhaps, C'lin judged from his amiable manner and cheery disposition, it wouldn't be too terrible to share a breakfast table with him, even if he had originally had no intention of sharing pleasantries with anyone. Might as well be social... He thought with a mental sigh.

Realizing that it had been the recently devoured food that had attracted the tiny hungry beast, C'lin at first attempted to rid his fingers of their last traces of food by rubbing them instinctively on his trousers. Then, thinking twice about it, he checked his person to find some decently-sized crumbs and pieces of his spiceroll in the pocket that he had used to smuggle the food out of the kitchen. It wouldn't do to throw away the evidence now, as the little bugger had already pointed him out. Besides, it wasn't as if everyone didn't sneak an early bite from the kitchens every once in a while, if they had the stealth to. With this line of thinking justifying the means with which he had achieved his end, he brought the handful of crumbs out into the open.

'This what you were looking for, little guy?' C'lin asked of the little black firelizard in a pleasant voice. He checked a glance at the matured rider to be sure the offer was appropriate as he half-reached out his hand that had the remnants of his breakfast in it. He didn't know what the little thing would do, but if it had come half-way across the dining hall to steal a bite of his food, he didn't want it to leave empty handed... or, rather, empty bellied.

[Kila]

O'sho studied the young riders initial shock and then progression of emotions. It was highly amusing to see them so painted across his face. "You're welcome," he replied to C'lin's thanks. He gave the BlackRider a grin as he recovered his composure and promised to protect his face. "That seems... like it would be a good idea," he said, chuckling lightly.

Oblivion was far from happy at being handled the way he was, and writhed and clawed and hissed, trying to wriggle his way free. After a while of little success, though, he let himself hang, making scratchy, unpleasant sounds in the back of his throat. He focused his seething glare on C'lis, who was more his level, and thrust strong waves of discomfort and dislike toward O'sho.

From outside O'sho could feel Daidoroth heave a draconic sigh. The Bronze did not particularly care for their smallest Weyrmate that crept around and always clung to His. Whenever it was around he could feel it's nasty emotion in O'sho's peripheral. Maintaining his stoic tolerance of Oblivion, Daidoroth said nothing, but O'sho didn't need words to interpret his Own's feelings. He sent Daidoroth a loving caress of patience to remind him that it was nothing to fret about.

C'lin's guiltily trying to rub away his sticky fingers amused O'sho, but only aggravated Oblivion more. The flitter watched sharply as he hesitated and then reached his hand into his pocket, pulling out a scant handful of crumbs. As much as the bitter little thing ran off of hatred, his primal instinct of hunger has more sway on his mind. Snapping his neck out as far as he could reach it and resuming his clawing at O'sho's arm, he struggled to get to C'lin's hand, snapping his teeth greedily. Finding himself still held back by his captor he let out an evil yowl, finally managing to break free (or perhaps finally released) and throwing himself into the air and disappearing between, apparently not finding the handful of crumbs worth his effort after all.

As soon as Oblivion disappeared, so did a plethora of hateful and unpleasant feeling that had been spinning around the two men. The sounds of morning slowly became audible again and the quiet after the storm settled in. "He's not very friendly," O'sho said matter-of-factly, looking down at C'lin rather apologetically. Then, dismissing the event completely, he asked, "May I join you for breakfast? I think it will officially be available soon." He said the last bit with a twinkle in his eye, subtly poking fun at the boy and not at all upset with his sticky-fingered actions earlier.

[Lan]

C'lin, while at first intimidated by the little bugger, felt rather sorry for thing as it struggled to break free and, eventually, flitted off between. It was a black firelizard, and being a blackrider he almost felt somewhat of a bond with the poor flit. What was his name? C'lin hadn't caught it... nor had the man managed to give it, he noticed at a second thought. Perhaps it was a touchy subject? Or was in not polite to give the name of a creature in one's possession that just tried to maul another living being?

He chuckled at the rider's allusion to his stolen breakfast. Truthfully, while he had enjoyed the spiceroll greatly, he was still rather hungry. And he had already made up his mind that it wouldn't be such a bad thing to share more of his time with this man. Still, he made a show of thinking it over, biting his tongue against his cheek in a pondering manner. With a hum of thought, he grinned cheekily and nodded in agreement. 'I suppose I wouldn't mind being social a bit. Besides, I couldn't complain of who I ate with as long as there was something to eat. Haven't eaten anything all day, you know.'

With the last sentence he gave the Candidate Master a playful wink, adding in his own jibe to the joke the other man had started. He scooted over a bit and gestured for his new acquaintance to join him, all smiles and gentility for someone higher than his rank. Still, there was something in his manner that, while he accepted the other man as being above him, put himself on equal par with the other man. It was not in anyway disrespectful, but rather an easiness that was meant to encourage a congenially manner in the other person as well.

'I'm C'lin, Reyith's own.' He introduced himself pleasantly, reaching out his hand in goodwill. 'And I don't believe I've had the pleasure of making your formal acquaintance.'

O'sho, of Daidoroth. Reyith offered absently from the sidelines, still aware of C'lin's conversation. C'lin thanked him kindly, sending him gentle waves of love and appreciation. While good with names of people he had held conversations with, he was terrible at remembering the names of people he hadn't met. It was in this that Reyith was able offer help and encouragement, at times, when C'lin was unsure of a person's identity, yet certain that he should know them.