Oh goodness gracious [Noyth Clutching!]

[fidelli]

It was pretty ridiculous.

Call me ridiculous again.
Oh, you are.
I will rip you to pieces.
I'm your RIDER.
That does not matter. Call me it again and see how fast I eat you.
Then you would have to between and that egg you haven't let see daylight yet will be motherless.
I will not between - you will still be with me. Just quiet. In my belly.
I could still talk to you.
I would ignore you.
Then how come you aren't now?
Because you called me ridiculous.
I did not!
You thought it.
I only thought it because you are.
...
Noyth?
In my belly.

It was ridiculous, because Noyth was sitting on the sands. Now, Noyth was the smallest adult dragon on the Western Continent, and quite possibly on most of Pern. She didn't mind - what she was lacking in size she quite made up with mental capacity and wingspan. But, she had Flown recently, and had managed to Clutch a single egg. A'mor had thought she was joking when she had told him, sitting in the infirmary glowering moodily at his wrapped hand, where he had accidentally cut it. You were stupid to catch it on the pottery. "Oh, shut up." The Gray had only shifted on her couch, than rose. I am going to the Sands. That had caught A'mor's attention. "What?" The Sands. "Why? You aren't Clutching." The Gray had only fixed him with a single, whirling eye and snorted, than took off.

The Grayrider had followed, confused at first, and then shocked when she had very carefully produced one single egg, which the jealous mother had then very carefully buried in the Sand's dead center, and mantled her wings over. She looked absolutely silly - she was tiny, sitting in the middle of the huge sands looking not amused at anything that moved. The firelizards that A'mor had were nowhere to be found - Bubbly had a scar on her belly where Noyth had slashed for getting too close to her last egg. Fellis appeared now, the sapphire blue flitter who thought he was a dragon landing on A'mor's shoulder and trilling importantly. He had been scouting for danger for the Mother!

A'mor - ignoring his flit as easily as he ignored everything else - only went back to cleaning his nails. It's hot in here.
The Gray only snorted.
Noyth, do I have to sit here?
She ignored him, using her nose to push a little of the sand better around the egg.
Can I at least SEE the egg?
This request made her pause. ...Only you. Fellis disappeared immediately, sent off to scout by Noyth again. A'mor, brushing his blond hair away, was quick to move to her side but no closer - she may have actually ate him, the jealous mother was. One wing lifted hesitantly, and A'mor saw it for the first time. The egg was a decent size, a kelly green egg with yellow and orange mixed in. He barely caught it before her wing snapped back down and she told him primly, You saw it.

He shook his head, and brought out the jar of oil, unsnapping the lid carefully and beginning to oil her head. "I am not going to touch it, Noyth." She let him preen her, and even nuzzled him slightly, but would not shift her wings again. I know... Mostly. Just leave me be. He did - Noyth was odd like that. Although, I would not mind if Ripariath were to visit. I would let him see. A'mor just shrugged. "And Kyril?" If she must. He smiled then, but kept on oiling.

--------

A few hours later, A'mor trudged back into the sands, "Noyth?" The Gray had not moved, except to shift herself around it laying down, one wing extended over the egg. Yes, A'mormine? He had been in the Infirmary - the only place she allowed him. "I have bad news." The Gray sifted through his mind before he spoke - the man had checked Orange Vhreth when the Orangerider had brought her in because she had Flown... SHE WILL NOT SHARE MY SANDS. Oh, Faranth.

"Noyth, love! There is plenty of room for the both of you." The Gray was furious, tail lashing, although she did not move otherwise. I WILL NOT MOVE. THAT ORANGE CAN CLUTCH SOMEWHERE ELSE - NO! A'mor buried his head in his hands and sighed. Next time, he was going to be a fisherman. "Noyth, you realize Risk is in one of the dens over there? She's sharing your Sands." The Gray only sniffed primly in his mind. She is nocturnal, and she is not on the Sands. She is in a den, and I am on the Sands. THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

[kyrillion]

Ripariath was enjoying a meal in the sunshine on the morning in question; he had seen His off to the kitchens to grab herself some breakfast not long ago, and had then decided that he, too, was rather hungry. He was no more than halfway through a herdbeast, however, when he felt a mute, but very firm, mental nudge disturb his thoughts. Lifting his head from the carcass, pale blue eyes churning inquisitively, it took him a moment to discern where it was coming from. The who was not a problem; he easily recognized Noyth's voice, and her habits, by now, and he was rather pleased to have received a summons, for whatever reason. What did take a bit longer to puzzle out was her location, and when he came to realize that she was on the Sands, his mild curiosity became astonishment. Food entirely forgotten, he rose promptly into the air, wings buoying his lithe form easily across the bowl.

MineOwn, Noyth calls![/color]
Kyrillion, munching on some sweetrolls in the dinning hall and pouring over a several-page-long letter from her grandfather, was quite unconcerned by this.
You are so whipped.
She is on the Sands, KyrillionMine.[/color] He elaborated affably, his mindvoice betraying a touch of excitement, and that got her attention.
She hasn't clutched..? Her own tone was heavy with disbelief, and for a moment she was sure Ripariath was pulling her leg. What were the odds of that? Grays didn't clutch often, did they?
I am not sure. I will see for myself.[/color] He assured her, knowing better than to bother Noyth with a verbal inquiry. He was quite fond of the gray, and wanted to stay in her good graces as long as possible.

He sensed Kyril's attention return to the letter as he winged his way into the cavern, the warmth and darkness a welcome respite from the winter weather. And there she was; so small, curled up in the center of the Sands like that! Folding his wings, he dropped down near her, careful to give her plenty of space, for it did indeed look as though she were guarding something. Enjoying the heat of the Sands beneath his cornflower-blue feet - something he'd not felt since, perhaps, the day of his Hatching - he padded softly towards the gray, eyes trained diligently on her in an effort to perceive her mood, and what she wanted from him. He respected her; he knew she valued her space, and liked to make her own decisions. Still, his eyes were bright in the dimness of the cavern, dancing with curiosity as he greeted her.

Good morning, Noyth.[/color] It was a simple hello, lacking any endearments or sugary words, but his tone was warm and affectionate; rather atypical, for him. He usually reserved such fondness for His, and His alone. Sparing a glance for A'mor, who as a friend of His was held in high regard, he rumbled a polite greeting to the man, before turning back to peer intently at the place where the gray was obviously sheltering something beneath her wing. Is that what I believe it is? May I see?[/color] He requested courteously, determined to confirm his suspicious before he reported back to Kyrillion.

He wasn't entirely sure that Noyth would let him see what it was she was hiding, and was quite pleasantly surprised when she offered him a glimpse. He scrutinized the image quietly, sharing it promptly with Kyrillion, who could still scarcely believe it. After a moment, with delighted greens bleeding into his eyes, he spoke again.
It is strong and healthy.[/color] Though he hardly had the experience to know that for certain, he sounded quite confident, and his voice was proud. Proud of Noyth - though he wouldn't dare say so to her, at the risk of sounding patronizing. Surely she could tell how pleased he was, anyway? Thank you, for allowing me to see. Would you like me to stay here, with you? I will do anything you need.[/color] He assured her sincerely. And then, to his rider. Did you see, MineOwn? Will you come see for yourself?[/color]
I saw, love. And I'll head over there as soon as I can, even if Noyth won't let me past the enterance. She assured him affectionately, But I have some things I have to get done, first. She felt his mute acknowledgment, and quickly finished up her breakfast so that she could join her blue.

*****

It ended up being a few hours before she found herself heading across the bowl and towards the Sands, hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. She'd never once imagined that Ripariath would ever sire a clutch; even a clutch of just one egg. Blues simply weren't clutchsires, and the situation still seemed almost... well, ridiculous. Highly improbable, certainly. Still, she could sense Ripariath's happiness, though there was also an undercurrent of trepidation in the thoughts and feelings she was picking up from him. He wasn't quite sure of himself in such an unfamiliar situation, but he was of course determined to be of what use he could. This was Ripariath, after all; he wouldn't be himself if he were anything short of stubbornly devoted.

When she arrived at the sands at long last, she was greeted with a scene far more chaotic than the one she'd imagined. Noyth was clearly not pleased about something, and her dear blue, still resolutely by her side, was looking rather worried himself. Her eyes landed on A'mor, who seemed to be in the process of trying to calm his dragon down, and she approached quickly. Moving to stand near him - though a bit farther away from Noyth, to avoid stressing the gray out about anything else - she tried to catch his eye.
"A'mor." She offered by way of greeting, in tandem with a smile. "I could hardly believe the news, when Ripariath told me..."
However, before she could ask what all the fuss was about, Ripariath offered a tacit explanation.

Noyth does not wish to share her Sands.[/color]
"Share? With whom?" She'd always hated being out-of-the-loop, and so she addressed the question to the room at large, her attention still mostly on A'mor. And, shard it all, she still couldn't look at him without blushing ever-so-slightly. She could only hope that, in the relative darkness of the cavern, he wouldn't notice. What an odd predicament her blue had gotten her into! But really, reflecting upon it now, how could she really have expected anything less? She could have laughed out loud, if she thought for a moment that it wouldn't offend the doting clutchmother.[/size]

[fidelli]

Noyth was pleased with herself. She had Clutched before - just once. A Pink, a happy tiny Pink who was a ball of sunshine. Noyth just hoped that this one was just as healthy as her other daughter.

It also made her happy that Ripariath was winging in, and she spared her mate a glance. He made her happy, the cornflower Blue, and A'mor sighed happily. That was good, at least - she was relaxed slightly.

Good morning, Noyth. She loved that about him - it was just warm, not flowery or silly, and showed that he cared. A'mor nodded back to the Blue, but was working on silence. Noyth was distracted, and that didn't happen often. Is that what I believe it is? May I see? The Gray snorted, but was amused at his request and lifted a wing, allowing him a glance. She trusted him, the father of this egg, and showed it to him - but soon the little creature was tucked away again, under one huge wing. It is strong and healthy. The Gray had a happy shiver of delight as he told her that - he approved. She did care what he thought, the father of her egg and the only male dragon she really liked. She knew he was happy - she could sense it, and it made her happy.

Thank you, for allowing me to see. Would you like me to stay here, with you? I will do anything you need. It was here that the Gray finally spoke. You may see it whenever you like, if you need be. But I would like you to stay, if you could. I must sleep, and it would be nice to have someone help me guard. She reached out, stretching her nose out to nudge the Blue. You may even get closer - I will not bite you. It was here that A'mor left, leaving Noyth with Rip and the silent dragon happy.

Well, by the time that Kyril had wandered her way in, the Gray was furious, tail whipping up a small sand storm and quiet snarls echoing throughout the nearly empty sands. Risk did not bother her - the Queen was in her cave, protecting her own children. One was day, the other night. That did not matter. It was here that mattered, the here and now. That Orange would not be allowed on her Sands, no way. Faranth take her before that would EVER happen.

That FOOL Orange thinks she can Clutch on MY sands - and A'mor sighed. She was off again. Her tail lashing, the Gray's eyes bled again red and she was growling lightly. A'mor had given up, sitting watching her with an irriated look on his face - 'A'mor.' Looking up, the Grayrider found Kyril, and found himself smiling. It was nice what that did to him - he hadn't been able to he happy about a person in a long time, and the Rider reached out to tug her closer. "She's not going to eat you or anything." She was talking though - 'I could hardly believe the news, when Ripariath told me...' He nodded at that. "Yeah, it's cool. She usually doesn't Clutch, when she rises at all." And then she was being filled in by Rip, and speaking. 'Share? With whom?'

First, A'mor knew that they had to do the what-were-they talk. He had left early after the flight only to make sure that she was alright, apologizing - but he had Infirmary duty. And he had spoken to her a few times, but not for long, and it was only now that he was getting to see her. He did enjoy holding her hand though - which he had not released - and talking to her, shifting so that he was standing right next to her. "With Orange Vherth. She's going to Clutch, pretty soon actually... And you see Noyth. She's in the middle of the Sands, and she is pretty tiny." The Gray was ignoring Her's, and didn't take insult. She was what she was. A'mor, however, wasn't going to let that bother him.

"Let Ripariath take care of her. She'll be fine, and she's not listening to me anyway." What was more important to him at the time was this - he scooted closer to Kyril, looking down at her with serious blue eyes. "How are you? Are you okay? I haven't gotten to talk to you much since the Flight - how are you feeling? Can I kiss you?" The last one was just as serious as the rest, but he smiled lightly so she wouldn't freak out. He didn't mind having her as a Weyrmate, actually, and when the male took a liking to someone, he wasn't nearly as grumpy. He turned into a softer male, someone who liked to cuddle and hold hands, and until Kyril stated otherwise he wouldn't stop.

Ripariath. The Gray was irritated and worried - it was part of what drove her to her maddening ways. She was just protective, and she did not want all of the people and dragons on her sands that this meant. It worried her, and the Blue's presence there comforted her. So, her single word invited him closer, invited him to lean against her and let her cuddle closer to him, one huge wing covering the child she had birthed. She was furious, but she would wait - when Vherth came, then she would be quite irritated. Even moreso than usual, if you could understand that.

[kyrillion]

Ripariath was delighted that Noyth had allowed him a glimpse of the egg; though she might never have said it aloud, it seemed to indicate that she trusted him. That, even more than the little egg in the center of the sands, made him all but glow with pride, and his eyes radiated blues and greens as she reached out to nudge him gently with her nose. Trust had always been important to the blue; just as with his rider, it always had been. He wanted to be trusted, to be able to trust, and so he strived to be trustworthy in everything. And this, whatever was happening here with him and Noyth, was a very important thing indeed - even if he hadn't completely figured it out just yet. He knew that her trust in him was justified - and he would do anything to prove that to her. But I would like you to stay... He listened, quiet and attentive, as she at last began to speak, and as she answered the last of his questions he snaked his head down to nuzzle her cheek briefly; a gentle, mute show of affection, without pretense or grandeur. Simple; something that seemed to suit them both.

It would be nice to have someone help me guard...
Of course.
He agreed immediately, falling easily into the role of protector, something that had always felt natural to him. It was instinctual, the desire to protect the things he cared about, and he had the determination to see it through, to act on it. He had gone so far as to kill, in defense of the Weyr, during the battle with the renegades - a black and his rider, and he still bore some scars from the encounter. And while the knowledge of what they had done could still keep Kyrillion up some nights, the blue hardly ever spared it a thought. It was justified. The safety of the Weyr had been worth it - and thus Noyth, infinitely more important to him, must be more than worth it. So, secure in that knowledge and confident in his own conviction, his voice held all the sincerity of truth as he told her again:
Anything.
Only when she gave him permission did he sidle closer, moving to curl up beside her on the warm Sands, tail encircling her and her precious ward to offer a physical barrier between them and any outside threat - as if there really was something out there that posed a threat to them. There could hardly be a safer place on the southern continent than where they were, but Kyrillion always did say that it was better to be safe than sorry.

The scene that greeted his rider, however, upon her arrival some hours later, was quite a bit more hectic. It was plain to see that Noyth was distressed, and Ripariath was upset to discover that in this case there wasn't much he could do. He knew that Noyth would eventually end up sharing the Sands with the orange. There were hardly any other options - but he refrained from saying so out loud, and even from thinking it too distinctly, because at the present it could only make matters worse. He simply stayed resolutely by the gray's side, hoping to ease her temper simply by remaining his calm self - though that's not to say he wasn't sympathetic. He could understand why she didn't want anyone else on the Sands, and to be honest he wasn't too keen about having company, either. In the meantime, he thought A'mor had the right idea; it was best to let her get the anger out, work things out for herself.

Ripariath. She sounded worried, stressed, and he found himself growling, the noise bubbling up from deep in his throat. But this wasn't something that he could fight for her, and he was happy to accept her invitation; scooting closer, pressing himself against her to offer the stability she seemed to be looking for, he moved to intertwine his tail tightly with hers. Stretching out a single wing, he wrapped it around her in much the same way she was doing for their egg. And then, quietly, for good measure: I won't let anything bad happen. And if you want to eat her,[/color] meaning the orange, of course, even if it was hardly her fault things had to play out this way, that's okay. You can take her, and I can watch the egg.[/color]

Kyril, for her part, was more than happy to let Rip deal with the crisis, because for once A'mor wasn't busy in the infirmary and she wasn't busy with anything, herself. And a blind man on a galloping runnerbeast could see that he wanted to talk; which she was afraid could only be awkward, but it had to happen at some point. He hardly seemed to be paying the raging gray much mind, himself, and so, taking the cue from him, she turned to face him fully and more or less tuned the dragons out. She was met with a bright, sincere smile, and she found the corners of her own mouth tugging up in response, though she knew her smile was probably more contained. Not any less sincere, just… well, bashful had never been a word she' d associated with herself, but the feeling wasn't acute enough to be described as embarrassed any longer. She was probably blushing, again, anyway, and she had no idea where to go from here.

Let Ripariath take care of her… Luckily, it seemed that he had an idea where to start, and as he reached out to tug her down beside him, she obliged without protest. She sat tentatively on the warm sands, but didn't go out of her way to leave any space between them; it hardly seemed necessary. She knew enough, at least, to know that they were way beyond that point. And she found she didn't mind the physical contact, either. When she had woken up, the day after the Flight, it had been to a feeling of utter mortification. But now… well, she'd had time to think about it, to convince herself to think things through rationally, and it had helped. A'mor was helping, too - a lot. Especially now; there wasn't any awkwardness at all from him, but instead a very real concern, and she found that she didn't mind at all that he was still holding her hand. Her smile was slowly growing, her expression softening and her eyes becoming less guarded.

"How are you? Are you okay? I haven't gotten to talk to you much since the Flight - how are you feeling? Can I kiss you?" Her nose wrinkled in faint amusement, and some more of that rare shyness, but she gave the questions some consideration before she answered them, tackling them one at a time.
“I've been fine. Good, even. Busy.” She tilted her head to one side, ever so slightly, as if to say 'haven't we all been?, before continuing. “I'm feeling fine. A little unsure of things, like Rip is, and neither of us is really used to that.” And then a slight pause, because this answer required a lot more consideration than the others, before: “You can kiss me.” She was sure she was blushing now, and her grin was wider than before, but this… she could get used to this. A'mor seemed happier then she'd ever seen him, certainly much more relaxed, and knowing that she was at least somewhat responsible left a warm, happy feeling inside her that she couldn't quite explain – or even name. She felt giddy, and kind of silly, in his presence – certainly unlike anything she was used to, but in a good way. He was going out of his way to make her feel comfortable, or at least that's what it seemed like, and she did feel comfortable enough to let her guard down. And now she was leaning forward slightly, waiting for that kiss he'd promised. She wanted to ask him how he'd been the past few days, wanted to ask him questions about what this was, where he wanted this to go, what they were going to do… but it could wait. Her priorities were all mixed up, but she didn't care – as far as she was concerned, it was kiss first, questions later.
[/size]