Healing Wings and Snarky Bronzes {Dragon; OPEN}

[Avu]

“What were you thinking?” snarled T’rid, glaring at his bronze, who fanned his wing apologetically and winced as the air rushed by the scrape on his wingtip. The Bronzerider tightened his lips as Corinth rumbled in apology. I didn’t mean to… he mumbled defensively. But Reysalth is pretty and… The bronze exhaled. He had neatly scraped his wing on the treetops while Chasing Reysalth, and now just now T’rid had found out. So he’d dragged the bronze to the river and made him wash his wing carefully, and now was preparing to cleanse the wound.

Numbweed in hand, the Bronzerider hissed through his teeth. “Do you want to be grounded as a liability to the wing, you stupid lump? Let me see your wing.” Corinth huffed indignantly, lashing his tail around and causing a tidal wave of water to splash at T’rid’s feet. He snarled at his dragon, in a thoroughly bad mood, and forcefully tugged at the bronze’s wing. With an apologetic squawk, Corinth let himself be dragged down.

T’rid splattered a handful of numbweed on the bronze’s wing. It was a minor scrape, but no doubt painful when air rushed around it. “Stupid…proud…bronze…with…no damned intelligence…” he grumbled irritably, finishing and glaring at Corinth, who rumbled in apology again.

I said I was sorry, and it was a Flight. As if you could control yourself, Corinth protested. The man’s lip curled in disgust. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been in that stupid flightroom anyway!” he half-yelled at the bronze. “Can’t you learn your limits and stop trying to suicide?” Corinth’s response was to snort at him and then swing his tail around, splattering T’rid’s bare chest with water; his trousers were promptly drenched and he hissed again, eyes glittering.

“If we get grounded from flying because of your stupid wing…” he threatened. We won’t. It’s nearly healed anyway, Corinth consoled. It just hurts a little and not much anyways. “Liar.” T’rid sighed, pulling himself onto the riverbank and using his discarded tunic to wipe his face off, eyes narrowing as the bronze rolled over in the water, sighing with pleasure as he drenched his wing, the numbweed salve probably washed off.

“Can’t you be careful?”
No.

Stupid snarky bronze.

[dragon]

Aonith had been headed to the river for a nice soak for her sore sides, strolling between tree trunks to get there. Behind her, Dorava trailed along after, enjoying the walk and the trees ... they were nice! Dorava never realized just how much she liked trees, until she'd come here. They were magnificent.

Aonith paused when she spotted the bronze in the river, and seriously considered turning around right then and going back the way she'd come. But ... her sides!

Though she had to admit she felt alot better after having been seen to by the healer, she was still sore from having all those lesions lanced. Keeping her head suitably low to the ground, Aonith snaked toward the river with quick, short steps. Maybe the bronze would ignore her? She didn't have a terribly good record when it came to bronzes, granted most were in Benden, but old habits died hard.

Dorava's attention was drawn back to the present when her green's attitude did a backflip. She watched from the treeline as Aonith 'snuck' to the water. And then she looked over at where the bronze and his rider were.

Ah.

[Avu]

T’rid was still scowling at Corinth, blatantly refusing to let the bronze hear his thoughts, when the bronze’s head snaked around and he blinked calmly, the annoyance at being ignored exiting his voice. She comes. Who comes, Reysalth? I doubt she’ll apologize anyway, T’rid snarled. NOT Reysalth, Corinth snapped, irked. A green dragon. I don’t know her.

That was interesting. Corinth had been at Selenitas for four Turns, the whole length of his life, and unless a green and her Rider had just transferred, it was odd that Corinth didn’t recognize them. Who’s the Rider? he asked automatically, hazel eyes flicking over his shoulder to see the approaching green. The bronze exhaled patiently. If I don’t know the dragon, how am I supposed to know the Rider? the bronze countered testily.

Ah, right.

His dark eyes picked out the green’s figure as she moved in an oddly furtive way to the river. Corinth bugled a warm greeting. Greetings, green dragon! I’m afraid I don’t recognize you or Yours…could we please have your name? Bronze head tilted slightly, studying the green with curiosity. Why was she moving like that? Maybe she was from an enemy Weyr and thought he’d attack her or something silly.

Greens were for Chasing, not hurting…

You would know, T’rid muttered darkly to the bronze, although he managed to turn his sulky expression into a moderately more acceptable one as he picked out the Green’s rider, still standing along the line of trees. He studied her briefly; she looked older than he, although that was hardly anything worth mentioning as most full Riders were. He raised his hand in greeting; if Corinth was determined to speak to the green, he might as well amuse himself as well.

“Looks like Corinth’s decided to make friends, so you might as well come out,” he called dryly, irritated beyond reasoning by the bronze. He was just so Sharding…GAH. T’rid wanted to seize the bronze around the neck and throttle him; unfortunately such an action would be shunned by Selenitas. He refrained and closed his eyes against both the urge to hurt someone and the sun, the perfect image of drowsing in the warmth.

[dragon]

Aonith froze mid-step. If there ever was a more guilty looking dragon face, it was hard to find. Her head turned slowly - must not make any sudden movements - to regard the bronze slightly upriver of her. And then it registered in her mind what exactly it was he'd said!

Oh!

Aonith straightened, just a little, and cautiously eased into the water as she replied. I am Aonith. Mine is Dorava. She replied, cautiously answering only what was specifically asked. Ahhhhh, but the water felt so good on her hide! She settled down into it, and actually heaved a slow draconic sigh. She dropped her head down into the water, as well, so only her eyes and earknobs stuck up out of the water, watching Corinth.

Dorava changed her mind about leaning on the trunk next to her, when she was addressed. Though she wasn't really trying to hide ... it hadn't even occured to her that that was what it looked like she was doing ... she went ahead and walked down onto the beach closer to where T'rid was standing.

"Hello." She greeted, pleasantly. He looked a little ... well ... irked was the closest word she could think of.

[Avu]

Ooh, she looks scared, Corinth said, his whirling green-blue eyes focused on the green’s guilty face. Am I frightening? T’rid ignored the bronze’s amused query, instead focusing on the green. She really did look frightened, or at the very least as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. T’rid would be fine with that, except they’d done nothing to her—what was the good in irritating or scaring someone if they were already like that? He frowned.

That’s a lovely name, the bronze offered Aonith. My name is Corinth, of T’rid. He inclined his muzzle towards the young man, who scowled irately at the bronze, but not without a gleam of good humor, before returning his intent hazel gaze upon the green, watching as she slid into the water ever-so-carefully.

As soon as she was situated, he returned his gaze to the Greenrider. A woman, strongly built. A smirk touched T’rid’s mouth. He couldn’t help it. All of the women he’d met around Selenitas were, on average, slight and pretty. Including Reysalth’s. Another prick of irritation poked at T’rid. That woman’s green was the reason why Corinth hurt right now. The reason, if they were grounded from flying, why they would be stuck out of flying Thread.

He was not feeling very kindly towards Reysalth or her Rider at time being.

T’rid inclined his head slightly, eyebrows raising as he glanced over her before echoing her. “Hello.” As if he’d ever wanted to talk to anybody. At all. If not for Corinth, he would be perfectly content to just sit in the sun and do nothing all day, but apparently that was not going to happen with such a snarky, stupid bronze loitering around you all day.

Corinth, by now, was pressing curiously, Aonith, I haven’t seen you around the Weyr before…are you new? Why were her answers so short and clipped? Did she not like bronzes? Ooh, but all greens liked bronzes, didn’t they? Always.

T’rid’s lips tightened slightly in annoyance. “Like Corinth was saying to Aonith, I haven’t run into you before,” he said, his voice half a growl. “New?”

[dragon]

Good afternoon, Corinth. Aonith greeted, loosening up slightly as Corinth appeared to be a nicer bronze than she was used to dealing with. Much nicer! She picked her head up out of the water, and the river dribbled back off her head and neck as she looked around a little bit. I like your river. Compliments always went over well, right?

Dorava, on the other hand, was back on her guard again. T'rid was smirking and growling at her. What was his problem, anyway? "Excuse me." she said, calmly. She had no idea what he was irked at, but she was pretty sure it wasn't her... and she didn't want to be the brunt of it, either. Dorava had had plenty of that earlier on. She squared her shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest, a slight frown tugging at one side of her mouth.

She was trying to not make the fellow's mood worse. But at his question, she tried her very best to be civil in the face of ... irkness. "Yes, I'm new. I arrived a few days ago." Dorava said. "I am Dorava, of Aonith." she uncrossed her arms, and gestured freely at the green, who was taking a slightly more interested look to her regarding Corinth.

New! Yes ... we just flew in. The ocean is a big place... lots of water, there. Aonith bubbled. She was in her heart a light hearted dragon, but it often got shoved back by events around her. But Corinth seemed a very nice dragon. So she dared to show her true self a little bit.

[Avu]

Corinth crooned softly at Aonith. She was nice. My River? Oh, it’s the Weyr’s river, not mine. Lots of dragons come and bath here. He swiveled his head towards T’rid, his eyes amused by his rider’s bad temperedness. Do you like Aonith’s? I think Aonith’s nice. Lovely, complained T’rid, eyes hardening as he threw a venomous glance at his dragon. Rest assured I will NOT let you Chase another green.

The bronze huffed. Now that’s not fair. What’s not FAIR is if I get grounded during Thread because you ‘forgot’ that you weren’t as agile as a damned blue! T’rid snarled at the bronze, his face cold. Well, humph. Corinth turned his attention back to Aonith.

“Excused,” T’rid muttered to Dorava, hardly caring that it wasn’t the politest of things to say. New. Oh, she was new. Well, he was making a dandy impression, wasn’t he? He caught sight of the frown and felt an irrational surge of anger, mostly at Corinth again, who was ignoring him blatantly. See what that stupid bronze got him dragged into? He’d never wanted it…“Great.”

Mine’s never taken me to the ocean. It sounds lovely, Corinth was saying wistfully, fanning one wing in the direction of said ocean. He winced as air tinged his scrape. Ouch.

[dragon]

Aonith tilted her head slightly to one side. He didn't claim the river as his. Interesting! It made her more hopeful to the situation in moving to the new weyr. Of course, his pleasant demeanor helped alot, too.

Since she wasn't about to manage to shove his ire off in another direction, Dorava decided that she should at least know why T'rid was being so irritable. Hopefully, there really was a reason why, and he wasn't just one of those types that just liked to be mad all the time... "Might I ask what the issue is?" She asked, trying to be very politely inquisitive.

Aonith wriggled in the water, sending up large ripples into the water. The ocean is very pretty. Smells nice, too. It also has lots of big fish to eat. However ... it's not such a nice thing to try and fly straight over. I don't want to do it again. I am glad that trip is done. But, now ... I won't have to. I could between back and forth, now. She bobbed her nose for a moment. The water in the ocean is warmer than the river. Maybe you ought to try swimming in it one day?[/color] she suggested mildly.

[Avu]

Corinth gave a questioning croon to her head-tilting; there had to be a reason for it, but Aonith hadn’t mentioned it. He copied her, tilting his own head the opposite way, eyes whirling idly with shades of blue and green as he sighed, dipping his wing into the water, relieved as the water eased the slight stinging pain. It wouldn’t keep him from flying, would it? He could fly just fine. He’d hunted this morning on his wing…Thread would be just fine.

T’rid scowled at the bronze, sensing the direction of his thoughts. You had better be fine. If I get booted as Wingsecond because YOU forgot you weren’t a blue, I swear… His hazel eyes, dark and cold, swiveled to fix themselves on Dorava. “Actually, you can’t,” he snapped. “But seeing as you have, I might as well tell you.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I happen,” he said coldly, his voice emotionless save for anger, “to be a Wingsecond. Which Corinth knows very well I value the position of. But if he decides to chase another green and forget his wingspan and possibly result in our grounding for the duration of Threadfall…” T’rid broke off, his face devoid of emotion as he stared at the bronze. Corinth rumbled apologetically. I said I was sorry, he protested.

The Bronzerider glared at his dragon. ‘Sorry’ that you decided to Chase Reysalth. I can read your mind, Cor. You can’t lie to me. Corinth rumbled in low amusement, this time—if T’rid was using his nickname, that meant his temper was easing up, if just a little tiny bit. T’rid glanced back at Dorava. “I know you’ll probably lecture me about how I should be sympathizing Corinth for being hurt. Go on. I could use a laugh anyway.” Which was exactly what he would do—laugh. He liked Thread: The low terrifying excitement. It was why Holders held Dragonriders in awe, and he wanted badly to fly as Wingsecond—not left behind as a liability because of Corinth.

Corinth’s gaze darted to Aonith, and he sank deeply into the water, burying his maw in the cool liquid and blowing a few bubbles at Aonith playfully. Mm. A salty smell, he said thoughtfully, I remember smelling it when we were nearby, once. Between is always quicker, I agree… The bronze head tilted thoughtfully. Perhaps I can get T’ridmine to take me when he is not so angry. He flapped his wing carefully and was pleased to note the stinging was almost gone—mostly thanks to the numbweed, but who knew? It was a long, shallow scrape, the kind gotten when a Weyrbrat fell onto the ground and burned themselves, on his wingtip. It would heal within a sevenday, but it still didn’t ease T’rid’s fretting, and when the Bronzerider fretted, his temper was always close behind to surface. The cold doesn’t bother me, he added. Between is colder and it’s all right.

[dragon]

Aonith noticed how Corinth kept his wingtip in the water, and wondered at it slightly ... there didn't appear to be anything wrong with it ...? So she inquired about it: Your wing?

Dorava wondered at what it was that T'rid thought she couldn't do. Can't what? But she kept her mouth shut about it ... she was used to being told what she could and couldn't do. She hardly expected different. "Your bronze was chasing a green, and buggered up his wing in the process?" Dorava guessed, from what he'd said ... he hadn't actually said what was the issue, but she gathered that might be the case, from the comments made.

She only shook her head slightly, a small wry smile pulling at her mouth. "I am not going to lecture you about anything regarding your dragon and his health. Even if you weren't a bronze rider." Dorava said. "I get enough of that about my Aonith, and I'm not about to dish it out myself." she flicked a small hand-motion toward the wallowing green, who was apparently really enjoying the cool water of the river.

Her interest caught by the bubbles leaving Corinth's face in the water, Aonith's head snaked higher, watching, a glint showing in her eyes as they whirled a little faster. Bubbles! Though, like other greens, she had a limited memory, Aonith knew she liked bubbles. As a weyrling she had made many of them, loving to blow them in the water. She dipped her own snout into the water, and a dual stream of bubbles erupted from her nostrils, happily roiling to the surface to pop.

When yours is not so angry? Why is yours angry? Does he like to be angry? Push him in the water, too. Water washes away all hurts. Aonith giggled in her mind, imagining what a splash the bronzerider would make in the river. Mention flitters ... the beaches of the ocean are usualy covered in flitter nests ... humanpets usually can't resist them! Aonith suggested.

[Avu]

Corinth lifted his wingtip from the water and examined it carefully with one idly swirling green-blue eye. I scraped it on a tree when I flew too low, he explained wistfully. He had acquired several other cuts, bruises, and scrapes when traipsing through the forest on the green’s tail, which was not a good idea, for even being small for a bronze, Corinth was big enough to hurt himself. Luckily, said minor cuts mostly were on his body and already healed, and didn’t bother his flying anyway. He shrugged. It was a Greenflight, and she was very pretty, he said apologetically. Most bronzes weren’t expected to go dancing after greens; they were supposed to chase queens. Well, how was he supposed to do that when such a pretty green was Rising?

You won’t anymore, T’rid promised him sourly. “Not only his wing,” he retorted to Dorava, usually warm hazel eyes hard and cold. “His entire body. He decided to follow the green into the damned trees as if he was a stupid blue instead of a gigantic bronze lump!” He waved one hand at said bronze, his finger tracing a small scrape on the bronze’s neck. At least Corinth had had enough sense to keep his head out of the way of the branches, although a few lacerations decorated his neck, half-healed and hidden among the bronze skin.

At least she hadn’t lectured him, though. T’rid allowed the sour look to lift—just a little bit—and glanced at Aonith, examining the green briefly. She looked a bit—okay, not just a bit—beat up, but if she was a transfer-rider from a different Weyr, it was probably either Benden or Fort. Fort might not beat up greens, but Benden certainly did, what with the war and their sour old Weyrleader. He shrugged. “As if I can help how my dragon acts in Flightlust,” he muttered irritably, scowling at the bronze. You’ve had a fair few adventures in human Flightlust, countered Corinth, nettled. Shut. Up. The bronze all but smirked. Yes, O Masterful One.

Returning his gaze to Aonith, he watched her. She seemed amused by his bubbles. Well, bubbles were fun to make…? He crooned questioningly, but his croon was only half-finished before the green lowered her own head and blew her own bubbles. Yay for bubbles…? Corinth purred in amusement. You see, T’ridmine? Aonith is nice, and perhaps you should be nicer to Hers as well. A certain little bronze needs to keep his mind and mouth shut before it’s shut permanently for him, came the swift, sardonic retort. …

Corinth shrugged, carefully flexing his wing again as he tried to answer the barrage of questions. He’s not normally angry, really…umm, he’s angry because I hurt myself when I was Chasing Reysalth, and since we’re Wingseconds for Threadfall, he doesn’t want to risk loosing the position because we’re grounded. He knows that it’ll heal but he’s just worried about me and our position and when he worries he gets mad. The bronze blew a puff of damp air out of his nose. He doesn’t like to be angry. He likes to be irritating and sarcastic, only he’s much better at that when he’s not angry. He’d probably get angrier if I did poke him in, the bronze admitted sheepishly, recalling the young man’s reaction to entering the lake without his permission. Said reaction included a few choice profanities all strung up together.

The bronze made a sad noise in his throat. T’ridmine doesn’t like fire lizards or Salamandyrs, he said unhappily. I want a fire lizard, only T’ridmine doesn’t want one…I made him promise to try and Impress, though, the bronze added on a slightly happier note, sounding satisfied. I even tried to get him down to the beach to look for a clutch, only he got irritated at me for wanting a fire lizard… He paused, considering. He said that dragons don’t like fire lizards…do you?

[dragon]

So don't fly so low! Aonith chided gently. Surely a bronze ought to know better than that. And then he mentioned a Flight ... ah ... well ... she'd witnessed many of those, even participated in a few. Oh ... I doubt banging yourself up made you look any more endearing...

Dorava tilted her head slightly, considering the marks on the Bronze's hide. It could have been worse, him getting that close to trees at those speeds. But she neglected to say so. "Hormones are a hard thing to control. How long has it been since he's actually Flown? That might be what's reducing him to Chasing Greens, now." She mused. "Not that that'll get him there any faster."

Dorava watched as T'rid looked Aonith over, and couldn't help cringing inside. Now she was sure she was going to be on the receiving end of yet another lecture. "It happened in battle ... a bigger dragon got a hold of her." She offered, by way of a short explanation.

Aonith lifted her head and shook it slightly, to berid it of water that clung to her nostrils before she sucked in a new lungful of air. Boy ... it had been a very very long time since she'd been relaxed enough to make bubbles! Much less with another dragon around ... and never with a Bronze! It felt good ... the experience was almost as healing to her soul as the water was to her hide.

His loss, then. Aonith said, though she thought she might have liked to see the so-serious man floundering about in the water a little bit. But then again ... the results might not have been so nice toward Hers. And she didn't want any harm to come to Hers. So sad. He needs to lighten up again... what makes yours happy?

Flitters! Flitters! I like flitters. They're nicer, more fun, than most dragons. Or so I've seen. I like flitters. Sadly, mine was never allowed a flitter ... even before me. What is a Salamandyr? Is that one of those funny looking tiny creatures I've seen about? Aonith asked. Maybe when I heal some, Mine and I can go get some flitter eggs ... and then she can have one! And we can sneak one under yours' pillow? She suggested with a mischievous glint to her swirling eyes, well knowing that an egg wouldn't hatch under a pillow... not warm enough, and not enough air. But the idea was still a fun one.

[Avu]

I didn’t mean to… protested Corinth, blinking one large eye indignantly. Was that what she thought? That he liked to make T’rid mad? That he enjoyed being on the receiving end of the Bronzerider’s temper when it flared out of control? He exhaled. Well, if it makes the green happy… he mumbled defensively, but his green-blue eyes were completely relaxed. He settled carefully in the water. Besides, he added comfortably, It’s minor. By the time Thread falls, it’ll be completely gone.

Biting back his original response, which ran something along the lines of, “I couldn’t care less why he’s Chasing greens,” T’rid glared at the bronze. Corinth blinked innocently back at him. “Corinth’s always Chased greens that he decides are pretty,” he declared, snorting contemptuously. Well, they are, Corinth mumbled defensively. Right…that’s just what I think when I see a proddy green. ‘Pretty.’ What about a Greenrider? They’re pretty. The Bronzerider winced. For your information, some Greenriders happen to be MALE.[/b] Yes…? And…? Deciding to just ignore Corinth, T’rid took a breath and returned his gaze to Dorava. “He’s going to stop,” he said quietly, his voice determined. “He’ll stop if I have to tie him to the Weyr until the Flight’s over.”

Unfortunately for Corinth, he would, too.

A battle…so, then, Benden for sure? Well, no, T’rid countered fairly. It could have been that Benden attacked Fort…or, for that matter, High Reaches. They had been oddly secluded of late. Hah, how kind of them. Steal a bunch of Candidates, and then just disappear off the face of Pern. He raised one eyebrow, a gesture he had never grown out of. “Ah,” he said noncommittally. Dragon lives were lost so often it was hardly a big thing anymore, although T’rid had to wince inwardly at the thought. You’re lucky you weren’t killed or crippled, he grumbled at Corinth, who didn’t respond. “So, you were in a battle. Dragon against dragon.” His eyes were shuttered. “By a bigger dragon, you mean…a bronze?” His stomach sank.

Perhaps it would explain the green’s…original reluctance…to approach Corinth, but the thought was still crippling. Stupid Benden Bronzers…he sighed, shaking his head wearily as he glanced at Aonith again musingly. A queen, a brown, or a blue could have been technically ‘bigger’ than Aonith…a queen she doubted would dirty her claws on Aonith, though…okay, so he was back to stupid Benden riders. Because, then again, a queen might have just if it was out of spite, and another larger green could’ve been ruthless, too…

The trouble with Benden was you never knew.

Corinth rumbled in soft amusement at her bubbles. It was nice to see someone so happy in comparison to his Rider’s irritability. T’rid being mad was no fun. I doubt he’d consider it a ‘loss,’ he countered in wry amusement. He’s not usually like this, he added with a sigh, But he’s just fretting and being silly. He’ll come around… The question made him stop and think. Umm, what did make T’rid happy? Food, getting out of chores, making someone else look stupid, irritating people, fighting, wing drills, marks, Gather, and…and Hatchings, the bronze ranted. He paused, considering. He only does those things when he’s not mad though.

Her delight at fire lizards was really quite nice, as Corinth knew most dragons found them aggravating. They’re useful, too; they can send messages and find people and things, Corinth offered. There’s no need to go and stalk out a clutch, though. Gold Darling just clutched if Yours wants to take a look. T’ridmine already went down there to see. The bronze sounded smugly pleased with himself. I made him promise to try to Impress a green fire lizard, he explained. But I wouldn’t mind him having two, so we can do that pillow-sneaking thing, too.

The Salamandyr question made Corinth consider briefly, jeweled eyes whirling thoughtfully. They’re the funny little land lizards with frills, he agreed after a minute of contemplation. Little strange things that have mental voices, but they don’t talk right. He decided not to mention that they also had horrible tempers—or at least, C’lryn’s Bite did. The little green thing (as T’rid had so kindly put it) had nearly attacked the Bronzerider when he’d gone to see Darling’s eggs. What a silly little Salamandyr.

[dragon]

Well, of course not. No one means to injure themselves. Aonith said, matter-of-factly. That would be .... oh, I dunno - what do they call that? Insane? Crazy? Um... masacist? Aonith stumbled badly over the last word ... she wasn't overly good at the more complex ideas and words of the Humans. I hope yours gets over it soon enough. If it is that minor, it's rather petty of him to get THAT worked up over it. She mused.

Dorava smiled crookedly, at T'rid's comment about what Corinth thought was pretty, and thus worth chasing. "Any male of any species can be accused of that." she pointed out gently. "Even male meat caprines will chase after a wooly caprine if he thinks she's pretty." she almost laughed at the idea of tying a bronze down. "What would you tie him with?" she asked, with honest curiosity. "A dragon is a big thing to restrain, and they tend to get stronger when they end up in extreme situations ... like the overload of hormones that a Flight presents. I should think it would be easier to simply take him camping ... if you have enough warning of a Flight to tie him in time, you've enough time to leave the weyr. Right?"

Dorava heaved a slow sigh as she delved back into her memory, trying to remember what color the dragon had been that had slashed Aonith's hide so badly. "I really don't know what color it was specifically. I only know it was bigger than her ... It was a rather stressing event, as I am sure you are aware, and all I saw were the claws and teeth that nearly got me. I think it was me they were aiming for ... but a quick roll on Aonith's part when we collided saved my neck ... and got her rather torn up." Dorava offered. "I am hoping that part of our lives is behind us for good. We will help defend Selenitas, don't get me wrong. But to be continually meeting in battle ..." she shook her head sadly. "Dragons were not meant for such pursuits."

Are you saying that there is nothing that you yourself can do to cheer your own? Aonith asked, sadly. That is sad. One ought to be able to comfort and cheer one's own to some degree.

Flitters are nice... however they can also spy on people. We always had to be careful what we were doing, for fear that a flitter would see what we were doing and report it to someone. Those little cloud-colored ones are really bad about telling... Aonith sighed. It is a good thing they are such fun to watch, and have their uses otherwise... do flitters spy on people here, too?

Aonith listened with interest about the salamandyrs ... they were something she had never seen before. And they were a source of curiosity for her. They talk? Flitters don't talk at all. They are not shrunken flitters? Some talk can be better than none. Aonith mused, fascinated by the new type of creature. This would bear some inquisitive investigation!

[Avu]

Corinth considered. Insane, crazy, yes…umm. T’rid said ‘suicidal.’ And…let me see…‘stupid.’ The bronze exhaled slowly, stirring the water with one wing to create waves that sloshed around his body comfortingly. He’ll get over it, I’m sure. He can’t stay mad long—not at me. Although he had been known to nurse a grudge for well over a Turn, the dragon allowed sourly to himself, glancing at his Rider. Yes, Selenitas Hold would definitely not miss T’rid at all…in fact, they’d probably thrown a party or something when he left. He wouldn’t put it past T’rid to have driven them insane if he’d stayed much longer. Please, please don’t get him mad, he added anxiously. He’s…impulsive. Impulsive, i.e. Dorava might wake up one day with dung in her klah.

Call it childish, but it got the point across nicely.

“Most bronzes,” T’rid was saying, firmly, “Do not chase greens every time they start to Rise. They get along just fine with queens.” He was SOSOSOSO irritated. Actually, he was past irritated. He was apoplectic. That was a very good word to describe the anger that he felt right now. At Reysalth, at Corinth, at himself for not stopping the bronze from Chasing. Granted, he hadn’t had much time to do so, but he should’ve been able to do something. Not just sit there and say, ‘Ah, so why are you still in here as opposed to out there?’

“I won’t bother tying,” he retorted swiftly, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll just bury him under a rockslide and add a few trees for good measure. I might even get him to do it for me before a Flight starts.” Camping? Well, that was an idea, too, but T’rid didn’t want to leave the Weyr for a Flight. He actually had no problem participating in Flights. The outcomes weren’t bad for him, since he was the one doing the Chasing, but he did have a problem when Corinth started hurting himself to impress the Flightqueen. “I’d rather give him a little bruise to think about the next time he has an urge to Chase,” he answered. “Besides, Corinth was taught how to go between without a Rider—as long as we’re both thinking about the place.” He sighed. “And I would be thinking about the Flight, so he’d just dump me somewhere and head back.”

Corinth rumbled apologetically. Only if she was very pretty, he said consolingly. T’rid gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing. Remind me to be comforted when you get lost between[/b], he snarled in response, and Corinth winced. I wouldn’t, either… he protested weakly.

T’rid was no longer—quite—as angry as before. He listened with a kind of depressed acceptance. Probably it was a bronze…a brown, maybe. Blues weren’t that much bigger than greens, after all…although…it was possible. He shrugged. “So Aonith saved you,” he said in a low, flat voice. “Brave of her.” I would save you, too, Corinth offered. I know you would, Corinth. I know.[/b] The bronze crooned smugly. “Selenitas has been out of the war for as long as possible,” he murmured quietly, glancing down. “What makes you think we’d change that?” His gaze ran the length of his arm and he realized that he had balled up his tunic with such force that the material was wadded into a thick ball, the belt and knife having slipped over his wrist. Loosening his grasp, he dropped the tunic and added the knife to the pile. Any suicidal or homicidal impulses were not going to be helped if he was already carrying a blade.

I could cheer him up, Corinth replied anxiously, But not when he’s mad at me. I can only cheer him up or dissuade him from stupid ideas when he’s mad at someone else. Or if he’s angry at himself, or something…but not when he’s angry at me… He sighed, rolling his shoulders in a draconic shrug.

Corinth glanced up at the sky, picking out the clouds. White and puffy. Cloud-colored fire lizards…? White fire lizards? There were no such things…perhaps she meant blue? Blue like the sky? They shouldn’t spy on people, the bronze said firmly. Only if their owner particularly asks them to, or sometimes because they just feel like it…but they won’t get you in trouble, he added in a consoling croon. They wouldn’t either. They knew the dragons could always sit on them if need be.

They talk, the bronze agreed firmly, his mind picking out a memory and giving Aonith a mental picture of C’lryn’s green Salamandyr, Bite, lunging at the Bronzerider when he’d gone to see gold Darling’s eggs, and the shrill mental shriek. GO AWAY! Bite! BITE DUNGHEAD! He winced at the memory. T’rid was not pleased. And no wonder, the bronze admitted, amused. I think she was kind of cute, but T’ridmine said no, and later he said he’d rather die than Impress one of those. So I guess we won’t be getting one. You?