state the obvious [s'rei]

[Avu]

“I love you but you’re a freak.” The words were punctuated by a gentle poke with one hand. “Really. I mean, what unholy joy do you take out of doing this?” Another soft poke, deliberately designed not to hurt; the other hand gestured towards the shirt that lay across the floor, shredded and clinging to the form it had once held by mere threads. “Other peoples’ things, okay. I don’t mind if you destroy those. I don’t. I’ve lied for you and I’ve told them they’re imagining things and I’ve even blamed random firelizards because you set it up for me to and it made sense that way but really?” Both hands settled beneath his chin, elbows pressing against his knees. Golden brown eyes studied the Salamandyr, narrowing slightly. “And I know you’ll say it was the firelizard next door or something but I’m not stupid, Sylph, I’m not. So please explain why you thought it was necessary to rip my shirt to shreds.” A tilt of his head, eyebrows rising slightly in an invitation for Sylph to begin her explanation.

She squirmed. Vivid pink shades darted across her gaze before she tilted her head up at her Bonded and whined. Fault mine is not, the Salamandyr protested; both wings flared to emphasize her words. Isn’t didn’t. Promise didn’t. Love you, /wouldn’t/. A nod before Sylph bounced backwards, frilling in alarm, to avoid the hand that fell with an audible smack against the floor where she’d once been, carelessly.

“I think you’re lying.”
So speaks master of the obvious.
“I think you’re a nuisance, Ahth.”
Master obvious.
“That doesn’t mean you’re not lying too, Sylph.”

The stern look that R’ahre offered the Salamandyr had her quailing again before a spark of playfulness dared to enter her gaze; Hers could never ever stay mad at her for long and she knew that. So she just had to…onto her feet she sprang and, quicker than lightning, she darted for the ripped shirt. Her teeth caught the material and she fairly flew across the floor. Out of the weyr door, opened just a crack, the Salamandyr writhed and shot down the hallway. For a moment the scene she left behind was comical; R’ahre froze. Irritation painted itself vividly across his face, eyes narrowed and focused on the spot the Salamandyr had disappeared, and Ahth, on the ‘ledge, turned his head to peer in with a loud croon of amusement.

And then R’ahre cursed loudly and took off after the Salamandyr. It was less for the shirt than it was for the fact that she thought she could manipulate his emotions so that she could avoid punishment. Which, truth be told, she could but he refused to let it happen that time. Down the hall he followed her, spinning around a corner. The white fabric darted just out of sight and his breath hissed out in another curse before he rounded a corner just in time to see Sylph shoot through (of all people, too) the Weyrleader’s legs. Apparently she’d forgotten about how easily tangled the shirt could be, shredded as it was – and apparently she’d underestimated how much space she’d needed dragging such an object. Small and ridiculously fast, the green usually was. Not so when she was weighed down by a shirt – probably the only reason R’ahre had even gotten within distance of seeing her.

“I think you might have found my Salamandyr, sir.” The deadpan comment was accompanied by a slight tilt of his head, R’ahre’s gaze flicking down to Sylph, who squeaked in alarm and flopped helplessly, the irritation in his gaze promising the Salamandyr punishments she’d remember.
How /amusing/.

[Requiem]

The man was casually arranged, as usual for him. No knots. No ostentatious clothing that just screamed marks. Those who needed to know him as the Weyrleader or as one of Selenitas's wingleaders did; his confidence wasn't so shallow that he had to be acknowledged by everyone. At any rate, most knew him on sight, anyway. He was, after all, a tall man - taller than any he'd met here - and definitely one more noticeably older than most other dragonriders wandering the halls between the weyrs. In fact, it was necessary for him to stoop just a little to avoid the ceiling.

Fortunately, that made it quite easy to spot shirt-toting salamandyrs racing across the floor.

Had he adjusted his step slightly so as to land on one of the more intact portions of the shirt? Of course not. Worm shifted in her favorite position - if you didn't count hanging all over Ophelie - against his inner thigh, digging her nails in as her perpetual blather shifted to a long line of barely comprehensible inquiries. "Shush." At least she didn't project constantly like most of her kind. The shushing, as one might expect, did no good, though they did earn him a nip.

Stooping, he caught the edge of the shirt and lifted, eyeing the dangling salamandyr curiously. How long would she cling to the garment before releasing it, he wondered? Salamandyrs had a tendency of being quite stubborn when the mood struck them. "Last time I saw this one, Worm was chewing my shoulder raw, going on and on about how Rys was being attacked." Even after Ka'rys's amnesia, S'rei was so used to calling him by his shortened name that he didn't even notice. It was far too familiar to be used so flippantly, especially in front of a weyrling. The Weyrleader's gaze shifted curiously to the boy. If Sylph was his...he suppressed an amused smile.

It was rather a bitter amusement, as it was; he had yet to tell Ka'rys what it meant, that Worm spent most of her time snuggling up to his firelizard. That wasn't exactly something S'rei was looking forward to. Not that speaking to Ka'rys was proving to be easy at all, anyway. And he'd thought the older version was difficult to manage.

"The 'sir' isn't necessary," he added, amiably enough, as he extended shirt and salamandyr toward R'ahre. "S'rei works. If you must be formal, I suppose you can use a title, but sir just makes me feel old." Which he was...though that was quite beside the point. He cocked his head to one side. "You just moved into the main weyrs, didn't you? Everything suitable?"

[Avu]

The determination with which Sylph carried on tugging at the shirt was curious, to say the least. She was usually hideously intelligent and tugging on something that was clearly trapped beneath S’rei’s foot was hardly the smart thing to do but tug she did. The Salamandyr’s entire weight was thrown against the shirt and she actively hissed in her annoyance; didn’t the stupid know he had to move? Sylph didn’t recognize S’rei as being the owner of Ophelie’s mate – a hard thing to do when she’d only gotten a good look at his feet thus far, but regardless fortunate. The Salamandyr made no secret of her hatred of Ophelie, after all. And – swoop went the ground from under her feet. Sylph squealed in a show of indignation, claws digging into the fabric instinctively as she hung by teeth and forepaws for a moment before she curled hind claws snatching at the hem before she managed to pull herself up, throwing a venomous glare at S’rei. As it was, she responded to his words before R’ahre got a chance to; she recognized the names, she did.

Stupid. Safe Merce’s fatty always. When she was around, that was. Guard Salamandyr ahoy?

R’ahre’s lips twitched into a slight, smirking smile; he ignored Sylph completely, repressing the urge to lean forward and squash his Salamandyr. Safe always, sure. As if she didn’t know what had happened to their Junior Weyrleader. Still, his voice gave no sign of his irritation. “I heard about that. She was upset with her sister for a while after that, which is a first.” A pause before he added, voice still pleasant instead of apologetic or sympathetic in any way, “Sorry about your shoulder, though. And about…Worm’s…anxiety attack.” Worm. Worm. If and how the man thought the name ‘Worm’ was a good one completely evaded R’ahre but he didn’t want to actually care enough to ask either. Sylph concerned him. Skink and Merce did too to some degree but neither of their names was as quite as demeaning as…Worm.

The offering of his shirt made R’ahre lean forward to grab it, a little more sharply than was strictly manners, but at least he didn’t actually snatch Sylph off and just leave S’rei holding onto the shirt. Which was tempting. Not like he could do much with the shirt in the state it was anyway. The Salamandyr gave a soft squeak of irritation before she scrambled awkwardly up the clutch onto her Bonded’s hand. Her hopeful trill was answered by R’ahre shaking hand and shirt so vigorously that Sylph was thrown flat against his forearm, chirping reproachfully at him. There was no response to S’rei’s comment on names, save for a flick of R’ahre’s gaze upwards to the man and then back down to the Salamandyr clinging to his arm, who spoke, still clinging tightly (she refused to be thrown onto the floor)!

Siiiiiir rank /is/, is not?
“No, it’s not, Sylph.” His other hand rose, cupping over the Salamandyr, and R’ahre swept her completely off of his arm. Onto the floor she flopped, the weyrlingrider paying her no mind at all as he smiled, still pleasant, at the Weyrleader. “Weyr’s fine. Sylph likes having a room all of her very own to destroy…” A sarcastic note entered the last statement, accompanied by a twitch of the torn shirt, which was flipped over his forearm.

Fattymine anger, Sylph commented as the Salamandyr leapt onto S’rei’s foot for safety; she knew the minute that he left Hers would rage at her and she wasn’t looking forward to it. Nope, nope, she’d just keep this one, even if he was Worm’s and Worm’s was Ophelie’s. She could surely retrain him to answer to her. PrettyWormthing’s better stick ‘round. Her tail lashed across his foot, demanding; she would not allow him to go. Better, pretty. Insult and threats: Guaranteed to work. Right.

[Requiem]

S'rei snorted mildly, shaking his head. "If it wasn't that, it would be something else," he responded amiably. Worm was an excitable creature, when it came to certain things. Like golds. And the frill that always sent her into paroxysms of fury, when she forgot to keep it nice and folded. (Something about the color. It was one of the few times, as far as the salamandyr was concerned, that he honestly couldn't think.)

He tried not to concentrate too much on Sylph, though he found the salamandyr amusing. He was likely one of the few people at the Weyr who honestly preferred salamandyrs over firelizards. Salamandyrs tended to be downright obnoxious, yes, but they were at least intelligent and interactive to a certain degree. Too much of a gap between humans and firelizards, which rendered them as mere pests in S'rei's mind. Likely, though, he was simply biased because of Worm.

Destroy? Well, yes, Sylph was a destructve little thing, wasn't she? Worm, at least, was fairly well-behaved. Most of the time. And constant chatter could be tuned out with practice. "Not to worry. I'm sure at least some of her time will be devoted to other people's rooms," he responded mildly. "Isn't that right, Sylph? Come to bring chaos to the rest of the Weyr and not just your bonded, eh?" If he took offense at how quickly R'ahre snatched back the shirt, he certainly made no indication of it.

He continued to watch the green in mild bemusement. "I'm sure you did nothing whatsoever to cause him to be angry with you," came the dry comment. "You're free to hitch a ride as long as you want, Sylph...so long as Worm allows it. I've got things I have to do, though, so staying around here until Yours calms down isn't going to happen."

The aforementioned salamandyr had scurried down his leg, poking her head out beneath the ring of his pantleg and regarding Sylph curiously. prettyprettygreengreengreenwhygreengreenwhystandfootfootstandwhy?

[Avu]

Hmm. R’ahre tilted his head, the faintest suggestion of a smirk flashing across his face briefly. It was probably bad that the idea of the Weyrleader being chewed on amused him but it did. Mostly it was a ‘ha-ha, you get chewed on and I don’t’ kind of amusement; Sylph hadn’t ever chewed on him though she had taken a few nips when she was exceptionally upset. Although her destructive tendencies kind of made up for chewing, he supposed. At least it wasn’t his shoulder getting abused by little devil’s teeth. The smile faded at the mere thought of her destruction, though; he was being distracted and he knew the little rat was partially responsible for it. A low disparaging snort as S’rei went on, the bluerider winding the shirt around his arm more tightly. Threads stretched, tore audibly, but he ignored them – the shirt couldn’t be salvaged considering the damage, so what did it matter?

“I’d suggest you lock your office and weyr door after that if doors had a chance of stopping her,” he commented dryly, eyeing the Salamandyr again. Sylph was curling her tail resolutely around S’rei’s ankle at the moment, staring defiantly up at him. “If you set any traps I’d rather not have them be deadly, too. I kind of like wanting to live. Just a personal preference.” A pleasant tilt of his head before he looked down at Sylph again; he half-wished he could let the nasty look he wanted to express pass over his face but he didn’t want to because of the fact that the man on whose foot Sylph was presently curled happened to be the Weyrleader. Regardless, there was no doubting the little nuisance felt his irritation, if her soft squeak and lack of protest was anything to judge by; normally Sylph would be innocently arguing that she’d never destroy a room. Of course not. It was all those irritating firelizards’ fault.

However, as the man’s attention was dropped to her, Sylph curled more tightly around his ankle, physically bracing herself for any sudden ankle-shaking that might be offered. His sarcasm was ignored in favor of his allowing her to stay with him; the Salamandyr gave a low approving purr and a very pleasant (for her, anyway), Good pretty slave now is. A quick glance was shot at R’ahre and at the scathing look he shot at her, the green started to speak and was interrupted by a second green poking her head out of the man’s pant leg. Sylph squeaked, startled, before she stared at Worm. She didn’t like Worm by default because she hated Ophelie and Worm was Ophelie’s mate but…she supposed this once she could make an exception. Can. Why not? she responded, tilting her head upwards in a gesture that would have been haughty had Worm not already been above her anyway. Prettymater so silly.

“Actually,” R’ahre commented, blinking at Worm (where had she been? Did he even want to know?) before his gaze flickered up to S’rei again. “She can’t. If it’s all the same to you I’d like to squash her while I’m still angry.” He’d just forgive her later, after all. “Although I doubt she’ll listen if I ask her to come. Or if you ask her to go.” Both arms crossed his lower torso, focusing on the Salamandyr again; Sylph frilled at him in a silent display of defiance before she curled more tightly around S’rei. She was going nowhere regardless of how hard the man shook his foot. Ahth, make Sylph get off. Like, now. Please. The last word was added with an effort; he knew his blue was fond of the green and found her…escapades…to be very amusing.

How did you ever convince her to do anything when I wasn’t here?
She liked me more then.
Perhaps I’ve outgrown you too.

[Requiem]

"Set traps?" he echoed, a flicker of confusion passing behind his eyes. If Sylph's confiscation of his ankle bothered him, he made no indication of it. (The run-in with Showoff that had resulted in the little menace that was Worm had taught him a few things about salamandyrs - namely, that it was best to choose your battles.) S'rei couldn't imagine anyone who was bonded to a mandyr of their own setting lethal traps for other salamandyrs. Annoying as the creatures could be, their bonds were too strong to justify that sort of behavior.

The Weyrleader elected not to respond to the green's assertion. (It also was generally fruitless to argue with a salamandyr.) Worm's curiosity nearly had him rolling his eyes, though. Oh, she adored Ophelie and there was no chance of that ever changing. Frankly, he worried that if anything truly did happen to Ka'rys and Ophelie, he'd be losing Worm as well, and that thought was quite distressing. He'd grown accustomed to her, over the turns. Nevertheless, her adoration for Ophelie didn't keep Worm from loving the company of any green.

Apparently, this included Sylph.

Worm dropped to his foot from inside his pant leg, winding around until she was nose-to-nose with her unexpected visitor. Cancan, she agreed, pleasantly enough. Notsillynotsylphysylphynotnot. She nuzzled the other green fearlessly. Greens were the best, after all, even if this one was a little confused and had mated to the other. Ofleeofleehersmuchhurtmuch. Nomembernothingmemberbadbad. Just in case she didn't know. Worm hadn't seen her as of yet, after all.

"Which is why I told her she could stay," S'rei offered helpfully. "Since I can't make her go. That just leaves you as the bad guy." His smile was a teasing one...and also decidedly self-satisfied. Not that getting on Sylph's good side was likely to keep his papers and whatnot safe, but at least she might be more willing to listen to him - maybe? - should he catch her in the act. (He'd also taken to locking anything especially important up after the incident with the salamandyrs and Ka'rys. Live and learn.)

[Avu]

“Well,” and both eyebrows rose, “I was under the impression that most people liked records intact as opposed to, oh…shredded into tiny pieces and strung across the room…so yes, traps. I’d set them myself if Sylph couldn’t read my mind.” The light nature of his voice made it quite easy to pass off the comment as being a joke, but it wasn’t; R’ahre would. Not that Sylph and Skink bothered him much; S’rei’s previous comment had been absolutely correct. The pair seemed to prefer torturing others. Sylph, in particular, liked it when there was a firelizard around that she could pin blame on. But still, enough of his things were destroyed when he carelessly left them out or forgot to put them up that it upset him. His gaze had dropped to the Salamandyrs again; R’ahre squinted at them, aware Sylph was flaunting the fact that he couldn’t grab her and lock her somewhere she couldn’t get out. She was safe there and the brat knew it. So annoying.

Blink. Sylph’s head tilted to one side suspiciously as she stared at Worm. The other Salamandyr would always be regarded as a prettymater and Sylph could not comprehend why she was being so friendly. Pretties weren’t and therefore their mates shouldn’t be either. (And yes, she was still pretending Charming did not exist and had never Caught her favorite sister. It had never happened.) Well. Regardless, at least she could stay. The nuzzle made Sylph’s tiny wings flare out in surprise and she almost protested, but the mention of Merce’s effectively distracted the green. She knew bad things had happened to him, she had; Hers had mentioned it a few times before and she spent much of her time around Merce when she wasn’t with Skink or Hers. Heard, I did, she agreed. MerceLove poof in mind. Sad. She’d been forgotten, too, apparently, and that upset Sylph more than the idea of Ophelie being forgotten did. Ophelie wasn’t worth remembering. She was.

S’rei’s comment made her look up and she peeped defiantly before she stretched herself up, twisting to put herself between his leg and his pants. She wasn’t cruel enough to use his leg as a climbing post but she suspected Hers would not be above picking her off of S’rei’s foot. Out of his pants, however…he wouldn’t. The Salamandyr’s claws caught at the fabric of S’rei’s pants, her ungainly climb ending just below the bronzerider’s knee, and she reversed herself to look down at Worm. PrettyYours good slavething, yes? she commented conversationally. It wasn’t quite pleasant but it was safe and that was all Sylph was worried about at the moment. Safety was good.

R’ahre glared. Not at S’rei, but at the little lump located in the man’s pants. Bad guy. Fun. “I love being the ‘bad guy’ and all,” he commented dryly, crinkling his nose slightly, “But yeah…I think you’re on your own this time.” A wide, mock smile flashed across his face, R’ahre tilting his head pleasantly at the Weyrleader; he was not going up anyone’s pants, even to squish Sylph. Tempting. “If it makes you feel better she doesn’t bite.” Not too much, anyway, but that was such a small detail and surely it didn’t merit mentioning.

You could ask politely. Ahth offered, helpfully. Or bribery.
Or you could ask and she could listen…
Or I couldn’t and you could fume. Life is just so full of decisions.

[Requiem]

"It's simpler to just lock up the important things where they can't be gotten at. Which is really what people should be doing anyway," S'rei pointed out mildly. Most northerners probably did, though they didn't tend to be as paranoid in the south. Ka'rys, he was fairly certain, did, but you couldn't exactly anticipate falling asleep in the middle of your work. Unfortunately. No, S'rei wasn't interested in keeping pets in his offices or weyr longer than absolutely necessary. Salamandyrs in particular were pretty good about finding exceedingly unpleasant ways to protest confinement - or anything else they didn't much like. Clever little beasts.

Sadsadsad, Worm echoed soberly. The green, for all her constant chatter, didn't typically say more than necessary to any other than Hers. He was now being regaled by a barely comprehensible running commentary on how lovely and nice the Sylph was, and how much a shame it was that she'd chosen one of the insignificant blues. Intermingle in that affections for Ophelie, lamentations about Ophelie's 'broked' human, and little hissy comments about his smacking at Ophelie - Worm had a surprisingly long memory - it could be quite confusing if you tried to follow too closely.

Worm didn't have nearly as much concern to spare for her bonded as Sylph, climbing straight up his leg and finding her favored spot on his inner thigh once again. His muscles didn't even so much as twitch at her ascent, making it clear just how normal this was. She'd been doing this since she was Hatched, after all. Unlike most salamandyrs, she didn't use pretty as an insult. (Worm actually didn't insult anyone or anything that much.) Nononotprettymuchpretty. Plainquitenothinkthinkyou? Goodgoodmuchgoodslavelaurielaurieminelaurie, she conceded. Whymadyoursmadbadyou?

"Wouldn't matter much to me if she did," S'rei responded simply. "I'm rather used to it by now." He watched R'ahre for another moment, before shaking his head with a soft snort. There was certainly no dearth of confidence - or cheekiness - in this blueweyrling's weyrling class. He elected not to indulge the boy by commenting on it, though.

[Avu]

Now if only locks and doors could stop Salamandyrs. Well, to be fair, he supposed they did stop the majority, but Sylph and her sister were hideously intelligent (or so R’ahre thought, but he was biased and he knew it on some level, but that didn’t stop him from thinking it), and small enough to squeeze beneath doors. Locks, he wasn’t sure whether or not the pair could maneuver at the time but he was sure they’d eventually find some way to get past them; Sylph, for one, fell on the line that split ‘stubbornness’ and ‘determination’, to put it nicely, and Ahth only encouraged her. Bratty blue. The smile that was the only response was only halfway-pleasant, accompanied by a dismissive shrug. Hey, he’d given the warning; not his fault if S’rei came back to a weyr or office that had been destroyed. Sylph rarely listened to him. Now would be a great example.

She was…using her Bonded as a climbing post. Sylph’s head tilted, the Salamandyr oblivious for the moment to R’ahre’s agitation. How curious; would he mind if she…? A quick spinning turn, one that made Sylph almost fall to S’rei’s ankle again before she managed to grab on (maybe she’d hurt him, maybe she hadn’t; too dark to see if her claws had left marks – Sylph didn’t know which would please her more) and climb up after Worm. Her long tail slithered around in an attempt to curl around S’rei’s leg to anchor herself, as far around his thigh as it would go, before she tilted her head; her frill fluttered curiously at Worm. Didn’t she know that ‘pretty’ was by no means a compliment…? Her eyes were flushed with momentary confusion before she crooned audibly; Sylph’s tongue flicked out like a tunnelsnake’s in her smug amusement. She didn’t know. Very well then.

No no, she responded sweetly, accompanying the words with a light nudge of her nose to Worm’s shoulder. Very pretty, is slavethingyours. So pretty. A light conspiratorial purr. Prettier than mine much. Fortunately; she’d never live it up if Hers was ‘prettier’ than Worm’s, though of course he wouldn’t be. If he was she wouldn’t have Chosen him. She had more taste than that. The question made her pause for a moment. Bored, I was. Made hidething pretty. RusaMine – yes, Sylph still called him by his pre-Impression name. Perhaps it was to be expected, given that his name had been her first word – pretty don’t want. Silly RusaMine. The low silky purr in her ‘voice’ made it clear that Sylph was excessively pleased with herself despite her impending punishment. So silly, is RusaMine. Was making /pretty/.

Another shrug. His gaze would have never left the lump that was Sylph had it not been so close to a more private region. A pointed cough; a quirk of his eyebrow. Was he going to…get his Salamandyr back? R’ahre just wanted to get Sylph; then he’d let the Weyrleader go do whatever it was he’d been doing before, but he was hardly going to let his Salamandyr get carried away. “Awkward though it is to ask, would you mind getting her…out?” he inquired, one hand gesturing idly towards his own leg. “I would but there is an obvious…problem…and also, I’m not exactly in the mood to yell at your leg.”

Surprise, surprise? He rarely was in the mood to yell at people’s…legs, after all.

[Requiem]

The Weyrleader's lips pressed together mildly as he felt another set of tickly claws start up after the first. Thank you Worm for giving her the idea. Cue a stream of half-remorse, half-protest at the thought, but she wasn't particularly upset considering Hers felt more amused than annoyed. (This truly was something of a decision he chose to make. A salamandyr crawling up and hanging off your inner thigh was, by definition, annoying. Sylph didn't seem the kind to cease an action simply because it annoyed you, however. Quite the opposite. So amusement was better.)

Thinkyoureallyreally? Worm crooned happily at the touch and what she thought was a compliment, though it was one that confused her a bit. Pretty wasn't the right word, was it? She couldn't think of the one that was, but the green woman that Hers liked called him it sometimes. Listening to Sylph's explanation, she found herself astonished at this Rusa, and couldn't resist commenting on it to Hers, who didn't much acknowledge it. That was okay, though; she had a green to talk to. Sillysillyrusayes, Worm responded. Sylphylovelysylphymakemakeprettymuchpretty. Shouldthanksylphythanknono?

"Getting her out," he repeated flatly. It wasn't that he didn't want to return Sylph to R'ahre, but there was the matter of actually going about doing so. It would be a bit overly optimistic to think that simply attempting to grab her would result in her shooting clear out of his pants. Even more optimistic to think that he could catch hold of her. He didn't exactly intend to be groping around in his pants as it was. Of course, he could just pat at himself...and try to flush her down. Which would probably work better if his leg wasn't three dimensional. "I don't think you'd hurt my leg's feelings," he added, with a trace of amusement, but his eyes unfocused for a moment.

It didn't take much urging for Worm to pounce a green, the salamandyr clinging and whispering apologetic assurances at Sylph - with a fair number of affections mingled in - as S'rei quickly fished the pair out. He held the salamandyrs out together, to R'ahre, Worm keeping ahold of Sylph and curling her tail around one of his fingers. An important charge, yes, yes. S'rei could only be thankful that, on the whole of things, Worm was fairly obedient. Compared to many other salamandyrs, she was almost angelic. Minus the whole mating to Ka'rys's firelizard thing. And clinging to inconvenient parts of his body. And talking constantly. Where had he been going with that?

As soon as the salamandyrs changed hands, Worm released Sylph, nuzzling her before jumping back to S'rei, who quickly drew his hand back in so as not to acquire a second passenger.

[Avu]

Really really. So pretty, Sylph assured Worm, her voice still pleasant as she crooned again, tail flipping idly from side to side along S’rei’s leg. Yes, she knew that most people considered it to be a compliment. She knew it – but that didn’t deter him from considering it an insult. By now she’d forgotten where she’d gotten it from but she knew she liked the source and therefore it was more reliable than any human, even Hers. Her head tilted suddenly, glancing around the darkness before she trilled softly, curious. Stifling, it was, in here, but what fun she could have. And nobody could get her out. Not even the owner of the pants, so hah. A slight squirm before she tilted her head and added, Should, Rusa yes. Didn’t. Silly silly RusaHers~

One eyebrow quirked at S’rei’s echoing his words. Yes. Getting her out. That would be nice. He didn’t say anything though – at least, not until the more jocular statement. “We wouldn’t want that, would we,” he commented softly, arms crossing across his lower torso expectantly. R’ahre’s gaze flicked down to the lump that he suspected was Sylph, wondering idly if the green could feel his stare through the fabric of S’rei’s pants. Surely she knew he was still waiting, but from what little the brush of his mind gathered, she was rather distracted by Worm. Really, really? He thought she hated Worm. Or at least severely disliked her for Ophelie. The sudden stab of surprised anger made him blink twice; one hand rose to pass over his eyes absently before he clicked his tongue softly. Anger from Sylph he could take, as long as it never turned into actual pain.

The green was upset, though. That much was clear from her writhing and trying to slide out of Worm’s grasp, completely confused as to why she was being latched onto. She didn’t want to be touched. No no no. Her frill fluttered, anxious, as Sylph squeaked softly. Being clung to was only okay if the one responsible for clinging was someone she liked, actually liked, and she wasn’t trying not to be caught at the time. She was being weighed down…fingers. Sylph hissed instinctively, trying to recoil from them, and blinked as light penetrated her hiding spot. Too pretty, she hissed at S’rei, irritated, as she squirmed awkwardly again in his grasp. Worm was larger than she, however, not to mention that despite her upset at being fished out she didn’t want to hurt either of them, and she was duly dropped into R’ahre’s hand.

“Thank you,” the blueweyrling said quietly, closing his fingers around Sylph. The green’s little defiant hiss was muffled until she poked her head out from between his fingers and frilled at S’rei. So mean. She’d been looking for safety. She’d been so sure she’d found safety. Apparently not, though. Her teeth pricked R’ahre’s thumb, not biting but simply nibbling. FattyMine not fair, she complained. Too mean. R’ahre ignored her for the moment, nodding his head at S’rei before he spun on his heel, marching down the hallway, still ignoring Sylph’s petulant complaints and squirming until he reached his door, where his hiss was audible: “Shut up!”

And then he literally threw her into the weyr. Yes, he remembered Ka’rys doing the same to Merce. Yes, at the time he disapproved. No, he didn’t care right now. And he probably wouldn’t for quite some time.