I Told Myself I Wouldn't Miss You (Ur'h)

[Ember]

T'san was...borderline depressed. It wasn't because Selenitas was taken over. Really, the atmosphere was actually kind of familiar to him. He wasn't really sure what Benden was like but he could compare it to Fort. Old Fort, anyways. R'anatar had changed the weyr for the worse. No, he wasn't as cheerful as usual because...everyone had left him. Without a word. Meira, E'rro, S'rei, even Elysia. They had all disappeared during the invasion without so much as telling him that they were going. On an intellectual level he understood why they did it but it didn't really lesten the hurt and the...loneliness.

He would much rather be weyrless with them than stuck in Selenitas alone. Heck, even A'emi was gone. While he hadn't been all that close to the greenrider he was still someone familiar. At least K'thay was still around, and F'lix. He could pester them both for his own amusement, he supposed. The brownrider wasn't sure he wanted anything more than a superficial relationship with anyone at that point. If people were just going to keep leaving him behind, what was the point? He just wanted his friends and his lover back.

You're so depressing, Dsoleth commented over his herdbeast, eyeing His lying on the grass gracelessly. "You're no better, you flying pig. Jingth this, Jingth that. She's gone," the man responded. It sounded more like an argument with himself. In some ways, Dsoleth was the same as him. He was pining for his mate just as much as T'san was. His words weren't as much for himself as they were for the brown. For a Wingleader you're very stupid. If you miss her that much than just remember her. Go visit her hatchling or something.

While their words were cold to each other they were actually cheering each other up. Such was their relationship. Nevroti also added his support by nuzzling T'san's cheek. The big scary brown was right. "Just remember her? Hmm." Would doing that bring her back, bring any of them back? As Dsoleth finished his herdbeast off he stood and wandered over to His, careful to shield his thoughts. He pounced at His when he was close enough and carefully pinned him. "Hey - wha!? Dsoleth! Don't you -" T'san was forced to close his mouth or risk getting herdbeast blood in it.

The large brown rubbed his bloody muzzle all over his rider's face and shirt covered chest gleefully. That would teach him for being depressing! Remember and remember and remember, forever. You do that already anyways. If they don't come back then one day we'll go find them. By the way, why are you covered in blood? Dsoleth asked innocently, backing away to watch His' reaction. T'san burst out laughing. That's Dsoleth for you. His brown had the right idea. At least they weren't dead!

[Requiem]

Look, Mine. The little Selenitas dragons are more vicious than we thought, Ykkith commented, twisting through the air above the pen in a disorienting move that made it even more difficult for His to see exactly what was going on. A brown pouncing on a prone body, his muzzle going for head and torso, was really all that Ur'h could make out. The older brownrider mentally sighed. He understood on some level why they were meeting such animosity at every turn, but they'd really been so easy on the southerners. He wasn't so sure why they'd bothered, now.

Then we should probably do something before the man loses his head, Ur'h commented reluctantly. He'd really been just enjoying their little flight. Socializing was so taxing. My thoughts exactly. Ykkith swept his wings downward, shooting up with the powerful stroke, then angled into a steep dive that was gradually shifted to a more shallow approach. He hit Dsoleth solidly from the side, claws curled inward and wings backwinging to reduce the impact to something decidedly more playful than actually dangerous. While eating Yours is a decidedly romantic way to escape us evil monsters, lovely brown, I think I shall have to stop you, he cooed to the other dragon, amusement shimmering behind the words.

Considering the dive had ended with the two browns rolling somewhat awkwardly, terminating with a far too smug Ykkith pinned beneath Dsoleth, it was wise to be sure the other brown knew he was playing. The older brown punctuated the words with a lick under Dsoleth's jaw, then made a show of squirming. Come, you have to make it more convincing. Mine was certain you were trying to eat some poor Wastelander, Ykkith added laughingly. Clearly the dragon had no fear of any genuine animosity from Selenitas dragons, at least not in the form that would end with him terribly hurt. That and he did have access to the other male's throat and underbelly if it came to that. (Ykkith highly doubted it would.)

Ur'h, who had thrown himself clear of the browns right before they collided as soon as it became apparent that he was likely to be squashed otherwise, crouched several yards from T'san, rubbing ruefully at a turned ankle. His approach was slow. Lots of blood on the ma- Shardit, not again. He shot a decidely unamused look at the entangled browns, his frown only deepening when Ykkith let His feel all that amusement he'd been keeping below the surface. So not funny. Ur'h ground his teeth, then looked back down at T'san. "You're not getting eaten," he stated, his expression decidedly bland. Trust the older man to state the obvious.

Rather than offer to help the younger man up, Ur'h simply plopped down on the ground and began unlacing his boot, shooting glares at Ykkith. The male was now crooning loudly, clearly pleased with himself. "If I have to go see tempramental healers over this, you'll be sorry. They give us enough glares as it is." Will I? the dragon returned mildly.

[Ember]

Dsoleth wasn't so preoccupied as to miss the other brown's wingbeats. He turned his head curiously to look and when he understood Ykkith's intentions he was prepared to roll with the motion to some degree. When he came out on top he looked down at the Wasteland brown inquisitively, eyes whirling a mix of confusion, worry, and slight anger. To say he disliked the actions of the Wastelanders would be accurate, however, he didn't actually dislike any of the individuals as of yet. While they had chased out his mate, she hadn't been killed and His hadn't been harmed.

The lick and amusement he sensed from his fellow brown did much to reassure Dsoleth that Ykkith was neither a threat nor harmed. While more reserved with others than His, Dsoleth was not above playing with them. Alas, I don't think he'd be very tastey, monster, sir. It was considerabley more tentative than Ykkith's amusement, but it was there all the same. Testing the waters, as they say. The baiting was met with more amusement.

Dsoleth shifted to put more of his weight into properly pinning Ykkith before he opened his mouth to snarl only... Rawr? Still holding back, and the 'snarl' was more of a simple opening of the mouth, face lacking any anger. This one was quite interesting. While he didn't hate the Wastelanders individually, he did have a stereotype of them in mind. He expected all of them to be far more reserved and serious. Perhaps some of his opinion was based on the memories of His from their time at Fort.

T'san was startled as Dsoleth was suddenly thrown off of him. That certainly had been unexpected. He didn't remember anyone ever interrupting their odd play in such a forceful way before.He sat upright to look at the man who had landed just a bit from him. Ah, Ur'h. He didn't know the man personally - didn't even really have the desire to, either. Bad Wastelander - but he did at least know who he was. At the man's words he chuckled slightly. "Of course not," he replied with clear amusement. He made no effort to hide his Fort accent, though he had never had any problems adapting to new places - he'd already mostly adopted the Southern accent anyways.

The glares sent Ykkith's way were not lost on T'san and he chuckled more. "The brown beast go rogue on ya? Silly things, dragons. I probably shouldn't be surprised that even you people have dragons that don't just always listen." He was prodding the man a bit, yes, but the Wingleader was always like that with others. Finding their buttons, teasing them. It was all good fun for the man. Wasn't he cute enough to get away with it most of the time?

[Requiem]

Humans usually aren't, Ykkith agreed, as if he'd ever eaten one - that he remembered. Too greasy. And in the case of Mine, tough. Old humans just are hard to chew. He tilted his head to one side, tail flicking, clear amusement running through his eyes at the rather lackluster attempt at being intimidating. Your acting skills are not so good, Dsoleth. No matter, though, it seems we've already been discovered. Though he didn't seem to care that he was still pinned to the ground. Ykkith yawned widely. So you tell me, then, are the beasts here worth hunting? The brown eyed the animals who had arrayed themselves as far from the dragons as possible.

Ur'h's gaze was drawn off Ykkith and back toward T'san, the uppity, clipped accent that the Fortians all shared not lost on him. Not that it was surprising. He already knew about this pair. Also knew Dsoleth had caught the pretty Jingth who managed to escape during the takeover. Ur'h's people, hm? He scratched his head lightly. "He's never had any problem listening, as far as I can tell," the older brownrider commented, not really following what the other was trying to say.

"Since we're here, though, I'd thought about coming to see you. Seeing as how my wing is good for playing rider spitball and little else - bluerider hardly more than a weyrling and a pacifist green, don't ask about the game - I was wondering if you're having any better luck? Or at least better materials to work with." Ur'h regarded him solemnly. Got right down to business, now didn't he? The older brownrider wasn't rude really, but this was, after all, a Fortian and Ur'h was much like any other Bendenite of his age. At least he had no problems working with him. Business was business, and when survival was the business, enemies became friends.

[Ember]

Dsoleth didn't know if Ykkith was kidding but he decided to roll with it anyways. And young ones are too small. The comment about his acting coaxed an amused rumble from him as he glanced at the humans. Yes, quite caught. The beasts are good. Certainly better than eating any people, he commented with dry amusement. Speaking of which...I was in the middle of a meal. Care to try out our southern delicacies? Until he got an answer he was perfectly happy to continue lying on Ykkith.

Huh. That went completely over his head. T'san was quite amused by that fact and a slow grin started to form. Interesting. It would make it all the more challenging - and amusing - to push the man's buttons then. "Well, perhaps he does listen, though he certainly has a sense of humour. One of the points of difference, I suppose?" Between the man and his dragon, he meant. Poke, poke. T'san really wasn't antagonistic, just playful. Although being misinterpreted was fun too.

It was on to serious things though. Wing stuff. Blah. "My little wing is cute, but I think it's even worse off than yours. Let's see...got one of your buddies, a barely out of weyrlinghood girly man, a drunk, and another relatively young greenrider. I wonder if they'd be any good at spitball..." T'san said consideringly, before adding cheekily, "Trade ya some?" He didn't dislike any of his wing though. With the exception of Z'ves they were all Selenitas folks. Easier for him to deal with.

[Requiem]

You can tell the difference between an old one and a young one in size? They all seem quite tiny to me. The male stretched beneath Dsoleth, then glanced at the beasties again. I think you just offered to share a meal with me. Is it common for browns to court each other in the south? I did happen to notice a pair of browns that I would have sworn were quite literally attached at the haunch sharing one of the ledges near the infirmary. While I appreciate the sentiment, I think I rather prefer my little green neighbor as a cuddle mate. She’s ever so sweet. Peppeth?

Fort riders spoke an alien tongue, Ur’h decided. Fortunately, the man switched to talking about the business of wings readily enough, and here seemed not to be speaking in quite so many riddles. “You know who my friends are?” Who had been spreading that little bit of information? Ur’h got along with pretty much all of the Wastelanders - it was something of a necessity when you were stuck in arid land with a bunch of short tempers and immature hotheads - but that didn’t mean he’d choose to spend his time with most of them if he didn’t have to. I do believe, Mine, that he is merely referring to all of our wings as your ‘buddies.’

Brushing that rather insignificant detail aside, the older man squinted slightly at T’san. “Trade. Is that something they do in the south? Seems like it would be rather confusing.” And, speaking of confusing… “What, exactly, are you comparing my dragon to?” He tapped his fingers on his thigh. “I think we have something of a small problem, then. Spitball is really not a highly effective talent for a wing to have.” Yes, Ur’h said this in utter seriousness. “Is there anything at all you think that your wing might reasonably do? Mine seems like its only use may well be acting as a decoy. They’re definitely all good at fleeing.”