Incoming (Bre, Fide)

[Reky]

From the sky came a great trumpeting roar, a fanfare fit for the king it came from. The sky was blue, today, though the clouds in it were becoming heavy and damp with spring rain. The breeze was a welcoming cool, all the way from the ocean, and the Weyr was bathed in sunlight. It bustled with noontime activity, dragons stretching their wings in the air, riders heading for lunch, washerwomen bringing clothes out to dry. R'len smiled down at the scene, as his dragon spiraled in for landing.

They were of High Reaches Weyr. At least, they were until recently, when they made the transfer to Dalibor official. This Weyr had been in need of a suitable wingleader, with Thread fast approaching. Three Turns wasn't much in the long run - it was less than a twelfth of R'len's age. With his experience in leading, and in Weyrlife and dragons in general, he'd been asked and, eager to try out a new pair of shoes in a new place, accepted. On Kaezeth's riding straps were packed bundles of R'len's belongings -- they were finally making the move.

Iron Kaezeth, the hulk of a beast, came to a thudding touchdown in the Weyr Bowl. He swiveled his head around to look at his rider as he dismounted, pulling off riding gloves and helmet. He rumbled a great rumble, and R'len smiled again.

"Like it, Kaez?" R'len asked, patting the iron's nose. "Looks pretty good, huh?"

It does, the dragon replied. Then, he tucked his wings up to his body, but still retained a respectable posture. His eyes flicked around the Weyr and all its liveliness, and he let out a hoot in happiness. Yes, he did like this place already. It wasn't nearly as cold as High Reaches. He appreciated that.

"Dalibor," R'len said, putting his hands on his hips. He stared out at his new home. "Pretty good indeed." Kaezeth rumbled again, nuzzling his lifemate's back.

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