I'm on a Runner (M'ta)

[Ember]

Jazz was actually somewhat nervous as she tacked up her runner. Well, it wasn't actually hers. No, unfortunately it was a loaned runner. She was a bit of a feisty mare too. She really preferred geldings to mares or stallions. They were generally better behaved. The other runner she'd borrowed was a gelding and gentle as could be but she was going to let her brother use that one. That was the reason she was slightly nervous. Excitement thankfully covered up most of it. This would be her first runenr ride with her brother since he'd been taken to Bitra.

Dhav? The blue responded to her unspoken question pleasantly. I asked Behruth to have you two meet. BrotherYours should be fleet. Jazz rolled her eyes. She knew the blue would feel the emotion behind the action even if he couldn't see it. He grumbled mentally a bit before subsiding. He didn't much like that His had never learned to love his brilliant rhyming. He thought he was quite good at it and it fit him so perfectly, didn't it? He'd make her see eventually.

Also, what was with Dhavalth's title for M'ta? She hadn't heard that before. Perhaps he just did it to make the rhyme sound better. Or maybe he just came up with it on a whim. Wouldn't be unexpected for him. She shrugged off her thoughts as she placed the saddle on the runner M'ta would be using and got it to breathe out. You see, runners were tricksy beasts. They didn't much like the saddle so they often held their breath so that it was more loose. For the rider a loose saddle was most definitely not a good thing.

She'd save M'ta the trouble of getting a runner ready to ride...that time. If Jazz had her way she'd have her brother relearning the world of runners. She patted the bay gelding before looking up and noticing M'ta. She smiled and waved at him. The smile was mostly friendly but there was a definite mischievious glint in her eyes. This was going to be fun. She wondered how awkward around runners her brother really was.

[Requiem]

The last time he'd set foot near the stables, he'd been mucking them out as a weyrling - and literally swinging off the rafter beams, as it were. Four turns ago now. He imagined he'd look rather silly, attempting to do so now. At seventeen, the only indication that he wasn't a child was a perpetual shadow of hair darkening his jaw. Nearly half a foot of height and a good fifty pounds had been put on since then. Still, it was tempting to duck inside, just to see...

Tempting, but not acted on when he caught sight of Jazz waving to him as he stepped inside. The scents of a stable weren't bad (after working in the infirmary for a couple turns, nothing smelled bad anymore) but they were still different than what he was used to, and the man stifled a sneeze. Sneak's head was up and he was searching the stables curiously from his customary position wrapped around M'ta's left arm. No doubt he thought to find salamandyrs here. It wasn't a bad guess, either; enough dark little hideaways and opportunities for mischief. PMS was a fairly good salamandyr, but he could be just as mischievous as the majority of his breed; M'ta was well-aware of the sort of antics the creatures got up to.

The brownrider strode forward, but he notably stopped before entering the stall, leaning on the gate and flashing a smile at his sister. It was accompanied by one brow lifting, however, having caught the seasoning to that expression she'd shot him and clearly wondering what it was his younger sibling was up to. He'd dressed in worn clothes, warmly, but had forsaken the riding leathers others might have worn in favor of wools. Mostly because he never wore them and ruining the leathers would be an inconvenience. Despite how much R'wign tended to rake in, M'ta was decidedly tight-fisted. And never asked for his weyrmate to buy him anything. Male pride, perhaps. The older of the brownriders was rather set on establishing their relationship in something resembling traditional gender roles (laughable for dragonriders as it was) which was actually a big part of why he liked M'ta to keep his hair so long, the younger man suspected, but M'ta refused to be put into such a box quietly. It was actually fairly amusing; most would say, upon meeting either of them, that M'ta was anything but feminine in personality. He let R'wign play his games, though.

"I hope you're not expecting me to ride like our brothers, Jazzy." Eyeing the mare she was finishing with, he wrinkled up his nose. "Awfully big, aren't they?" Not so big as me, and you ride me just fine. I still don't understand why you and your clutchsister prefer to ride those things on land when you could fly so much faster with us, Behruth commented from their ledge. "I think that one's planning on eating me," he added, ignoring his brown but for the twitch of unvoiced laughter tugging at his lips. Jealous of a runner? "She's got that look in her eyes." What look that was, he wasn't sure, but M'ta was in good humor today. Perhaps because he'd convinced his weyrmate that wing drills, extensive evacuation plans and implementations, and six hours at the infirmary was too much. Four hours, now, but in the last few days those extra two had done wonders. He hadn't realized how stressed he'd been.

[Ember]

The questioning eyebrow lift made Jazz chuckle slightly but she didn't address it as she checked the saddle once more. All set. The two runners were in good shape...it was kind of a shame that M'ta wouldn't be up to a long ride. Well, maybe after she brought him back to the stables she could go back out for a longer, harder ride. She'd see how much time she had left after her brother had his fill of runner riding. She was curious to see what - if any - experience riding when he was young would come back to the brownrider.

Jazz grinned at her brother's question as she patted the mare's neck. "Course not, M'ta," she replied, a teasing note entering her voice. How could she possibly expect him to do that? Would she be teasing him the whole time? Maybe. Runner riding was practically in their blood. That her brother had forgotten how to ride was very amusing to her. She sobered minutely as she remembered the reason why he'd forgotten but that was in the past. He'd relearn in time.

As for them being big.... "They're smaller than Behruth and you handle him just fine," she answered, unknowingly echoing the brown's thoughts. Jazheera led the mare out of the stall, putting herself between M'ta and the runner. "She's a strong-headed one," she admitted laughingly. "Probably senses you can't handle her. Don't worry, you'll be riding that one." She motioned towards the docile male all ready to go. He hadn't moved from his spot whereas as soon as she let go of the mare she took a couple steps away and began to nibble at some stray hay on the ground.

"Do you know how to get up? Or do you want something to stand on to help?" She asked, partly serious and partly poking fun at him. If she could get up on her own then she had no doubt he could. It might take a bit of practice though...no one ever said it was easy for a 'first time.' She moved towards the gelding and motioned M'ta over. Come, come. She was eager to be off!

[Requiem]

Backing off the gate as Jazheera passed with her man-eating runner, his smile turned a touch rueful. Were Behruth and Jazheera speaking the same language now, that they answered him near verbatim and practically at the same time? A queer phenomenon, to be sure, but he wouldn't be too weirded out by it unless it persisted, he determined, the thought greeted with amusement from his dearest 'Ruth, traitor that the male was.

Following his sister's hand motion, M'ta found the second beast more to his liking immediately, as he didn't seem near so restless or wild. It wasn't that the browrider didn't admire spirit, no, but he'd sooner keep his seat than have a feisty beast throw and trample him, thank you much. He didn't think a crushed M'ta would be of a terrible lot of use to much of anyone. Clicking his tongue lightly at the gelding, he approached from the side and within easy range of his sight so as not to startle him, laying a hand on the male's neck and speaking softly to the creature. The gelding huffed lightly, shifting his weight about from one leg to another, but otherwise held firm. M'ta smiled slightly.

"Mm?" He glanced back toward Jazheera, then smiled crookedly. "A box? Next you'll be asking if I want a ladder and a rope to pull me up by." Not that he didn't appreciate her concern, truly, but there was hardly any purpose in babying him. The man would either mount the horse all right, or he'd fall flat on his arse, but his arse could handle a little squashing and bruising, he was certain, and it would keep him from developing an attachment to a crutch that he'd have to break later. Trying to remember how it was done - no small feat given he couldn't seem to recall runners at all - he instead did as he often did with his knives and just went by feel. It must have made for an awkward sight, though, as 'going by feel' meant a bunch of half-finished motions as the 'wrongness' feeling caused him to move on to the next.

Finally, one hand wrapped loosely in the reins and both resting lightly on the saddlehorn, he lifted his right foot toward the stirrup, then stopped. Nope. Placing it back down, the left found it, and he surged upward, right leg swinging up and over...and nearly overbalanced to the other side, had he not quickly clung to the horn of the saddle, leaning forward over the runner's neck. The gelding whickered, prancing forward a few paces at the odd shifting of weight, but then M'ta straightened. Well. Not the worst for a first mount. He flashed a small smile at Jazheera, then frowned downward. "Okay, I know even you must think me short, but really?" The stirrups were two high by a good couple inches, and he slipped his feet out of them.

[Ember]

Jazz watched M'ta approach the gelding with a smile on her face. So far so good. Though not a secretive person she did wipe the smile from her face to avoid weirding him out. It was a bit embarrassing to be so attached to her long lost brother and she was a little worried that he was only indulging her rather than thinking of her as family. She could live with not knowing which it was for now. Eventually she'd make sure it was the latter. Rather than burden either of them with worries she jsut wanted to ride with him.

When he turned towards her she grinned before obviously pretending to be thoughtful. "Well you know...that might not be such a bad idea..." she responded jokingly. When he proceeded to try and get on the runner without any help at all - verbal directions or otherwise - she tried very, very hard not to laugh. Really she did. Despite her attempts not to, a strangled sounding chuckle escaped her throat as he almost mounted backwards. Had he swung his left leg up and managed not to kick the poor runner in the face he really would have been sitting backwards. Too funny.

At his eventual almost-not-success she smiled at him before snickering. "Sorry, must have just been going through the motions. More my length than yours," she said, stepping towards the gelding. She patted his neck briefly before setting about adjusting the stirrups for M'ta. "Could be worse. They could have been too long and then you might not have been able to get up at all. How's that?" She asked as she finished lengthening the second one.

When she fixed them to M'ta's liking she turned to her own mare and expertly mounted up. She twisted on the saddle to look at her brother properly and smiled. "You'll find directing a runner to do what you want it to is fairly easy. Pull back on both reigns to make them stop or slow down. Pull back on the side you want to go towards to make them turn that way. Tap them with your heels to make them go faster. Basically, what would make you move in a certain way is what would make them move." If someone was tugging her head to the left she'd move left too in an attempt to get them to stop.

[Requiem]

Amusing, was it? Well, if she wanted amusing...M'ta made a show of stretching. "Well, actually...now I can't really reach. Still can't. Now that's just too short." After a couple minutes of that, he couldn't hold back the grin any longer, his chuckle by no means hidden as hers had been. It ended in a cough that sounded suspiciously like the word 'gullible,' the brownrider muffling it behind a hand. His dark eyes danced with mischief, and he ruffled his little sister's hair, leaning over to do so. "So dutiful, Jazzy. Helping me out with the stirrups."

Jazheera had barely finished her explanation when M'ta squeezed his knees and tapped his heels against the gelding's flanks, urging him forward at a slow trot. It wasn't the most comfortable of sensations, muscles flexing in his legs to lift him from the saddle a little as he became accustomed to the rhythm. Experimental tugs, turning the runner this way and that until he'd found a pressure that would work and didn't seem like he was going to slash the beast's mouth to bits, he flashed a grin at Jazz and trotted his horse in a tight circle. Instead of coming to a standstill, though, the brownrider suddenly kicked the gelding firmly, and the beast shot forward. M'ta's eyes widened, the man instinctively leaning forward and plastering himself to the runner's neck. Which in turn caused the runner to streak faster. After the initial surprise, the rider let out a whoop and snapped his heels against the gelding's flanks again, and then they were airborne, M'ta gripping his mount tightly with thighs and knees and sliding forward dangerously on the landing. But he wrapped a hand around the saddlehorn as well as the reins, and managed only to knock the breath out of his lungs.

The young dragonrider gave the runner his head for several more paces as he regained his breath, then forced himself to sit up straighter, pulling back on the reins and tugging to the left to direct the runner into a circling trot that ended with both runner and rider panting lightly, the gelding at a standstill, tail flicking. "I agree, boy," he murmured, still a touch breathless. "Fences are for pussies. Hey, Jazz, what's his name?" M'ta's face was flushed slightly with excitement.