can't go to and fro like this [orena/t'san]

[Avu]

“I really don’t think Dsoleth needs to be here to keep you company while you eat, Jingth.”
But I /want/ him here.

It was getting easier to argue with Jingth, Meira thought detachedly, crossing her arms with a huff and narrowing her eyes at the gold, who stared back expectantly, tail swishing. At first she’d let the gold do whatever, but it was getting easier, more natural. She lifted her chin slightly—no matter how much she and Jingth argued, which wasn’t really much, considering how much some rider pairs went on and on at each other, Jingth always loved her, never left her mind for even a second—“You can’t really expect him to be available to dote on you constantly! I’m sure he has things to do—I mean, we’ll be going to see them later anyway—”

But, Jingth interrupted, petulantly, I /want/ him here. And he won’t object. Why would he? He /always/ comes when I ask. It doesn’t bother him. I’m sure His would come if /you/ asked too, but you worry too much. Her wings flared, the gold twisting away so suddenly that she kicked up a cloud of dirt, Meira spinning to avoid inhaling it. Why does it /matter/ anyway, Jingth continued, If it’s disturbing him Dsoleth can /tell/ me so and then I won’t /make/ him come. But I bet he’ll want to.

“Jingth,” Meira said exasperatedly, once the dust cleared, as the dragon twisted into a dive, slashing her foreclaws at a herdbeast that jerked sideways with a loud keening bugle, “Don’t—stop playing with your food, how old are you—are you even listening to me!”

Not anymore. But look. One of my children is approaching, and any sign of childish fretfulness vanished from the gold’s tone, replaced now by a fascinated delight. Riavorth. Jingth dipped one wing forwards, her weight spinning to pin down one of the herdbeasts, and she delicately leaned forward to snap the creature’s spine, settling behind her meal with her gaze past Meira, who spun, distracted.

“Why is it your offspring always come to the Feeding Grounds?” she asked, leaning against the fence as the spot of green came into sight. “Umaheth, now Riavorth…?” A half-formed question drifted across her mind, “Yes. Okay? Fine. But only because Riavorth’s here and I know T’san wanted to meet the Weyrlings too. And not if they’re busy. Okay?”

Of course, Jingth replied, reasonably. Dsoleth. Would you and Yours like to join us at the Feeding Grounds? Mine is fussy at disturbing Yours, but Riavorth is approaching and I expect that’s an exception; didn’t Yours want to meet the Weyrlings? You should come. See, see? Totally not an order.

[dragon]

Riavorth bounded along the trail ahead of Orena by about a dragon length. They weren't really headed for the feeding pens as it appeared, they were just out walking. All over the place really, exploring tended to take a body all over the place! Orena was idly braiding a lock of hair as she walked, a small smile playing upon her face as she watched her weyrling dragon bebop here and there checking things out like an over-sized puppy.

Sniffing along the bush line at the edge of the foot path, Riavorth found a trail left from some small creature that had gone past there, and tore off into the bushes to follow it, crashing through everything and making a terrific cacophony in the process. Orena winced and squinted one eye, but let the green do as she would. She highly doubted Riavorth was going to find anything anyway. Twisting off the end of the long, thin braid she had just completed, she ran her fingers through her hair and selected another lock to randomly braid. Running her fingers through it to make sure the curls all lined up and there were no snags, she separated it into the different clumps as she waited for Riavorth to come back.

Eventually, the green did, bouncily loping back to the trail and down it once more, leading the way. When they rounded a bend in the trail and the feeding pens were in sight, Riavorth slammed to a halt, head going all the way up on her young neck. Mine! What is this? It's got lots of things in it! And ... and ... and! the young dragon leaped forward into a shambling, bounding run all the way to the fence where she stopped again and clambered up the railing with her top half, leaning over the fence. Hi! What's your name?! she called, to Jingth. If she had ever known that the Gold was her clutchmother, she had long ago forgotten it. Indeed, she acted as if she'd never seen the Queen before.

Orena sighed, and rolled her eyes through a smile. Dropping her half-completed braid, she followed the green to the fence and leaned on the green's upright torso as if she were a tree. A very warm, wiggly tree. "That, love, is where big dragons get their groceries from. At least, so I'm told."

Oh! Is that what that sleeping one is doing? Getting groceries? Riavorth asked.

"Sleeping one?" Orena asked blankly, before she gathered that Riavorth must be talking about the dead animal. "I ... not exactly ... "

Orena about fell over into the dirt when Riavorth wiggled down the fence line closer to where Meira was. Hi! Can I try? she asked, of the goldrider.

Staggering back to her balance, Orena huffed. "Sorry! Don't mind her! I think she got into the sweets this morning ... um ... er ... sorry ... ma'am?"

[Ember]

T'san sighed as wing drills finally came to an end for the day. Good grief. So much work...but at least they were improving. The brownpair was normally pretty relaxed but they had both found things worth protecting and were willing to cast aside some of their laziness for results. The brownrider was understandabley quite surprised to hear that the brown wanted to join Jingth rather than take a short nap. "Dsoleth," the man half-whined, "as much as I like Meira there are other things we have to do, you know. Like sleep. Aren't you tired?"

But, T'sanmine - funny how he dropped the 'idiot' when he wanted something... - Jingth says Riavorth is there. "Who?" The annoyed growl told T'san that he'd asked the wrong question. The brown waited impatiently while the brownrider worked it out. If Dsoleth was so angry about it... "Ah, one of your babies, right? Well..." You told Jingth's that you wanted to meet the Weyrlings, didn't you? T'san was silent for a while before he sighed in defeat. "Fine, yes. But I need a bath, I smell."

The large brown snorted and picked his up in his claws. If I have to wait for you to have a bath we'll be late. You can have a bath on the way, Dsoleth told His cheerfully. "Dsoleth...? What do you mean by - oh no! No, no, no! You are not -" Hold your breath! T'san barely had enough time to take in a huge gulp of air, close his eyes, and pray to whatever higher power there might be that his own dumb dragon didn't drown him in Selenitas river. The brown swooped low enough to drag His through the water before pulling up and heading to the feeding grounds.

What arrived was a soaking wet T'san and an incredibly smug Dsoleth. The brown didn't even bother to put the man down gently. When he was low enough to be sure His wouldn't be seriously injured he let go of him. Fair skies, he greeted the gold and his green daughter pleasantly. It was as if he hadn't just dropped a rather wet-rat-like T'san not far away. They're already getting quite big, aren't they? Dsoleth commented proudly for Jingth's hearing alone.

T'san landed on the ground with a quiet "oof!" when his silly dragon dropped him. He had promptly fallen face first and had the wind knocked out of him. "Damn...stupid...dragon," he managed between gasping for his breath. He stood up, trying his best to pretend he wasn't feeling like a literal fish out of water. He wandered clsoer to Meira and Orena, slowly regaining his ability to breathe properly. "Hi," he said wryly. Well...at the very least he probably didn't smell so bad after the dunk in the river?