Motives & Hobbies (Show)

[kaya]

But, Rkya! I'm a Turn old! Let me go get my own lunch by myself! Teruth insisted, flaring her wings with mild frustration. Her size had stopped increasing at a dizzying rate, but she was still growing. It was an odd thought for them to remember what size Teruth used to be. I'll be fine! I can do it myself.

I didn't say you couldn't, Ryka replied calmly. She watched her Orange wiggle around the Weyr Bowl. Teruth was certainly growing up. She still had that nagging optimism, but it was just a part of their soul now. A juxtaposed set of opinions that could never agree, but rather, took turns influencing them. ...today happened to be Teruth's day.

Then let me go! the Orange protested, claws clacking on the rock surface. Teruth was about to give up on her illogical Rider and go get food anyhow.

Teruth, Ryka quietly laughed, I just like to go with you. If you want to go by yourself-- that's fine.

I can go?! Teruth repeated with joy. She was off at top speed, loping along the Bowl, her clacks growing quieter by the half second. Ryka smiled and watched her go, and yet she knew they were still just as close together as ever. Maybe she should let Teruth have a day more often.

So with that Ryka yawned and let herself have a good stretch. She wasn't getting any younger, she thought jokingly to herself. She still could barely believe Teruth was a Turn old. And she was a Turn older too. It was probably about time to cut her hair again too, Ryka thought. She hated if it got too long-- and tied up back well enough, she believed, to be able to keep a bit more of her hair than some of the other female Riders.

[4horseshowgirl4]

L'ven and Valleth watched the Orangepair below them with mild interest. The dragon, still small for an Orange, but very large regardless (A Weyrling-- Teruth Valleth supplied helpfully, as there was only one Weyrling Orange at the Weyr) was throwing a little fit. "I wonder what they're fighting about," L'ven mused quietly, standing up to scratch Valleth's eye ridges. The dragon's head alone had grown to the size of a runner. L'ven could no longer reach that itchy spot sitting down. "Why'd you have to get so big, hmm?" L'ven teased the Bronze. Oh, shut up. You love that I'm huge. It means I have a chance at Catching Callistath and you have a chance at being Jr. Weyrleader!

[/color] Valleth retorted knowingly, his voice softening a little when he mentioned Callistath's name, but it did not reach its usual dreamy quality. Gneith was starting to glow, and even Valleth was unwilling to dream of other females, even Callistath.

They stood there in silence for a moment, Valleth leaning into the scratches and almost shoving L'ven off of his feet in the process. Once L'ven had regained his balance, Valleth said, Mine... my wingbase itches![/color] L'ven groaned, though he did not mean it. It was about time he oiled the Bronze again, but the dragon had grown so much that it was now almost an all-day job. Luckily, they did not have wing training today. L'ven grabbed an almost comically large jar of oil out of the corner of the weyr. He put one simple neckstrap on Valleth and vaulted on, hauling himself on with the neckstrap. He balanced the oil in front of him. Valleth jumped lightly off of the ledge and spiraled leisurely down to the Weyrbowl. They landed a dragonlength away from the Orangerider ("Ryka," L'ven reminded Valleth).

"Hello," L'ven called to Ryka. slipping off of Valleth. "Don't mind if we set down here, do you? He needs an oiling and I'm afraid it's quite a long job now. Looks like you're going to have it just as bad soon, though," he added, referring to her Orange. He paused, waiting for her reply. Manners, Mine![/color] Valleth reminded L'ven, sounding rather exasperated. The Orange, though young, was a proper female, and she'd be pretty someday! Couldn't L'ven not make such a bad impression on a pretty, promising Orangepair? Oh, His was hopeless. "Oh, sorry! I'm L'ven, and that's Valleth," L'ven said, a bit abashed, but he also puffed out his chest a little bit, proud of his Wingsecond knots (he never forgot to wear them).

Mine. I itch,[/color] Valleth said imperiously. L'ven rolled his eyes at the dragon before vaulting onto the dragon's broad back again. Always start at the top-- that was something that it hadn't taken L'ven long to learn. Climbing up an oily dragon was just about impossible. L'ven spread the oil along Valleth's spine. The Bronzerider paid great attention around his neckridges, making sure the crevices were especially well-tended. Cracks there were hard to spot, but they'd be plenty painful. Valleth looked at Ryka, wanting to lie down and enjoy his 'Rider's ministrations, but he decided that he could wait a few moments to make sure she didn't want them to move first. He could at least be that much of a gentleman.[/right][/font]

[kaya]

Just as fast as Teruth had left, Ryka found she had gained some new company. Now, on a "regular" day for her, when she had gotten quite a bit less sleep, having company would have been a problem. But none of this occurred to her. She had gotten a good deal of rest and was in a distinctly good mood. Plus, BronzeRiders were fun to mess with, if they had some wit. There was just something about a lack of seriousness and a good witty conversation that made an off day relaxing, if not entertaining.

And that was apparently what Ryka was going to get. She found herself covering her teeth with her left hand as she tried not to smile. ...yes. Yes, she was going to have it just as bad with Teruth in a very short while. And she barely cared, but the truthfulness of it made her smile. "You have a point, there," she commented, finally able to control her face for the moment. It was all one big game, but Teruth's rules differed from Ryka's.

"Well met, L'ven, noble Valleth," Ryka replied, an anticipation flooding through the rest of her. In the back of her mind she realized Teruth must be close to catching lunch. The rush of the chase was something to be enjoyed-- in moderation. She chuckled lightly and half admired the ranking knots on L'ven's shoulder. So, he was one who desired his rank, while her's was something that had just decided to happen to her. A general respect was something Ryka desired, though she often found herself earning it, rather than having it freely given.

"If you have a spare cloth, I've not much better to do," Ryka mentioned with a winning expression as L'ven started working on his Bronze. "I don't mind company, so long as the company's good," she added, and then took a look around the side of the jar for something with which to spread oil. She'd done Teruth a day or two ago-- she couldn't remember, though she was sure the Orange would remind her once the itching started.

"As for late introductions, I would be Ryka, of Orange Teruth. She's out to lunch," the weyrling mentioned, observing L'ven's oiling method. He certainly looked like he knew what he was doing.