Lazy Afternoon (Open)

[dragon]

C'oar hoisted Raylin out of the river easily, setting her on her feet on the bank. She didn't look so well, in his estimation. Between being wet, muddy, pretty much nude ... and that shakingly pale look ... Not well at all. Though he figured more of it was from shock and alarm and fear than the actual river itself. He gave her a small nod, and quickly moved to retreive her clothing from where she had left it.

It was still damp, too, but it was at least mostly clean. And certainly not drenched. "Here." He said, giving them to her. "They're a tad damp." He warned, even though he figured she would know that already.

Shards. She looked like she needed a real bath, now, with that slick of wet mud on her. She looked more like she had been mudwrestling in the nude than swimming.

Frosstyth warbled, and bounced twice, ever the playful dragonet. He would outgrow it swiftly, but for now ... he was just a youngling, and he knew it. Besides ... what fun! Mud everywhere, people falling and going splat, items getting shredded and flung back and forth ... utter chaos! Utter exuberance and fun! I can play, yes! Play! Frosstyth snaked around T'rid, and tripped him up again, hoping to see him go splat again - though he was aiming for the other direction, so that the Weyrleader would have a matching front and back of mud coating.

Oh boy!

And then he went bounding over to where W'ri was, to see if he could help over there, too. More mud! More mud! Turning his back on the blue rider and canting his wings upwards in back, Frosstyth started digging in the river excitedly. This, naturally, resulted in lots of flung mud and splashed muddy water ... all being funneled straight through the brown weyrling's wings and firehosing all over W'ri.

C'oar looked away from Raylin, to see what his dragon was doing, and heaved a big sigh. "Frosst! Get your muddy rump over here, and out of that river!" He issued, sternly. Shards. As if he hadn't already had enough problems with the full riders! Frosst had to go soak them all!

Reluctantly, Frosst stopped digging, but he bounded through the river excitedly anyway as he made his way over to the bank that C'oar was standing on, soaking Ebolath with two different splashes in his way past. Fun! Fun! He chorused, before slipping and sliding as he tried to climb the bank.

C'oar just frown at the dragon darkly.

[Avu]

He'd just finished swearing very enthusiastically, and suddenly, he remembered exactly whose company he was in the precense of. Raylin. Who was...a complete and total prude when it came to being so much as moderately unclothed. T'rid didn't quite flush - he simply couldn't get that embarrassed - but he did look relatively sheepish as he glanced around to look for Raylin. As soon as his gaze flicked over W'ri, though, that train of thought was effectively stopped dead as he stared at the bluerider, clearly thinking that the older man was out of his senses. What was he...doing? Playing tug-of-war with his shirt, the opponent being a dragon that had to be at least a hundred times stronger than he, around a Weyrling who was clearly shy about being seen nude, and -

T'rid opened his mouth to interrupt the - ahem - struggle, only to choke on his words, instinctively throwing up his arms to shield his face from the incoming wave of water and mud, ducking slightly and closing his eyes, managing to keep from yelping as river gunk drowned him again. At least he'd managed to keep his face relatively unmuddy, the bronzerider consoled himself as he blinked, running both hands through wet, mud-slicked hair to keep it from dripping into his eyes as Corinth slithered backwards, eyes shades of alarm, as the tidal wave of mud and water reared threatening towards him. The bronze swung one wing in front of himself, the membrane acting as a far better shield than T'rid's arm had; liquid splattered against the gleaming bronze appendage and dripped down as Corinth snorted softly, shaking his wing and showering T'ridhis with muddy droplets.

The Weyrleader blinked, twitching slightly as a well-aimed droplet clung to his eyelashes, rubbing it off impatiently. When he dropped his hand again, he was being butted by a green head. Taken by surprise, T'rid staggered, barely avoiding Angth's flailing as he hissed as Ebolath addressed him. Swim with them? Well, he'd have to now, once the water settled down somewhat. He most certainly was not going to let the Headwoman give him a tongue-lashing because he'd dripped mud on her precious floors. The investigation of a shriek had not gone as planned - nor was the life of a measly Candidate or two worth being dragged through the mud and nearly decapitated by a flailing blue dragon and - well, nothing about this situation was a particularly nice one, to put it neatly. Speaking of shrieks, Corinth interrupted, looking annoyingly dry as he shook his wing one last time after crooning at Ebolath, clearly amused by the green's antics, Ebolath says it was Frosstyth.

"Frosstyth?" The name was blurted out, and T'rid stared at the brown dragon with something very close to surprised irritation. "Scorch it..." He hissed through his teeth, but the mention of Ebolath had reminded him of Raylin, and T'rid turned, searching for the girl as he absently blinked away a drop of muddy water that had slipped dangerously close to his left eye. She was...dead pale, he noted with surprise. The water wasn't cold...actually, it was quite warm, and that was even before the swarm of activity. Well, the bronzerider amended, dead pale where she wasn't covered in mud. He frowned slightly, warily, wondering if between himself and W'ri being bare-chested, they'd accidentally...traumatized her, or something...? It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him completely nude before...whatever. Maybe it was just - ? Ebolath says that she did not like the way Angth's was looking at her, Corinth commented quietly.

Aha. Maybe that was it, then...T'rid watched Ebolath warily, pushing his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to keep it out of his eyes and to dry it. Silly? Like a human made of mud, was he? Biting back a scathing comment, T'rid peered at his own reflection in the distorted water and had to - reluctantly - agree the green's comment. Slipping briefly under the water, he popped back up and, blinking the water away, decided that, yes, he'd been relatively successful in the attempt to clean off the mud. Disgusting stuff. And - there was time for a single muffled curse before someone tripped him up. Arms thrown out for balance, the young man hopped a few steps before he managed to regain balance, throwing Frosstyth a decidedly grumpy look. Corinth uttered a soft croon of amusement as he glanced at T"rid's shirt, still dangling from his wingtip. It was completely soaked, and didn't make for very good ammunition. Oh, Mine is /very/ silly sometimes, though I wouldn't advise telling him so, the bronze agreed amiably. He is capable of making sense, though... The words came out carefully, almost doubtfully.

T'rid watched grimly as Frosstyth attacked W'ri with mud and water, swiftly backtracking to the edge of the river and grabbing onto Corinth's offered tailtip to pull himself out, and immediately jerked his dirk out of the sheath, rubbing the blade dry on the grass. "I swear if this rusts I'll skin you with it," he snapped at the bronze dragon, who merely blinked and rumbled his amusement at the threat. "You're all right?" the Weyrleader added, quirking his brow at Raylin. She really did look like she was about to keel over and faint...

[antinanco]

((Failpost, sorry. Dx))

W’ri rubbed at his eyes, trying to get the dripping mud out of them long enough so he could crawl away in embarrassment without running into a tree—or worse, a naked prude greenrider. He succeeded in clearing his vision, but his escape was blocked by the sight of a little, familiar brown. “What-?” was all he managed to get out, a look of confusion glancing across his face before it was again filled with mud.

“Pft! Pbbbft! Faphhhhft!” the bluerider cried, stumbling backwards under the spray. Thankfully Angth was able to understand what he had been trying to say. He righted himself and waddled over to shield his rider with a draping wing just in time for the brown was called back to his mindmate. For the fourth time wiping his face clean, W’ri spluttered sarcastically, “Fphanks, Angpfh.”

I did what I could, mine! the blue creeled piteously, causing his rider to regret his words. "C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he grumbled in a low mutter, then turned to the others with a louder voice, “Sorry for the trouble, Weyrleader, Weyrlings.” He saluted the first, nodded to the later, then made himself busy trying to find the remnants of his shirt. As hard as Angth had tried not to rip it, the poor cloth was still beyond wearable. Sighing, W’ri still dug around in the mud for the other half, not wanting to lose the sentimental value of the shirt.

[/font]

[Rei]

Ebolath dunked herself in the muddy water after T’rid and also succeeded in washing off most of the mud. She purred at Corinth. Yes I will not tell yours that he is silly. After all I think all mines are a bit silly. She turned her head toward hers and gave a comforting croon in her direction. Mine would very much like to get dressed Corinth. Would you mind shielding her so she could? I would but I am still too small to do so without displaying her partially. The green clambered up the bank and nudged T’rid in the back of the legs. You look much cleaner now.

Raylin was still trembling but some color was beginning to filter back into her skin. She nodded at C’oar as she took the clothes from him. “Thanks.” She mumbled as she clutched them against herself. Now what? She very well couldn’t get dressed here in front of everyone. She heard her dragon croon and she sent her a quick reassurance in return. I am ok Ebolath, just a bit embarrassed.

T’rid’s question caught the weyrling by surprise and she blinked at him before managing a nod. “Yes I think I am alright.” Ebolath gave T’rid an affectionate head rub before trotting over to her bonded and pressing herself gently against the woman’s body to help support her. It is ok mine. Everything is fixed now. The confidence in the dragon’s tone helped bolster Raylin, and she reached down to give the hatchling a head rub. Purring contentedly Ebolath fixed her eyes on W’ri and Angth. Angth is yours quite alright? What is he looking for?

[dragon]

Frosstyth wriggled all over, plainly too excited to contain himself ... and acting a lot like a blue or a green, rather than a brown. But brown he was ... even more so now that he was coated in the mud he'd been splashing around in. There was a lot of it, and it was dripping off of him all over. Probably the only reason the young dragon could see at all through that much mud, was the wet soil had already slumped off of the goggles he was still wearing.

C'oar just took a look at that, and sighed, shaking his head. "You twit." He scolded. At that, Frosstyth lost all his wriggle, and sat down, looking very sad and ashamed, head hanging from a limp neck, snout pointed at the ground between his toes. C'oar didn't bother to get into what all the brown had done wrong just then in the river. He'd admonish the dragonet later ... when T'rid was not around to heap injustices on.

He nodded, merely, to Raylin, when she thanked him. "Any time." He assured her, before backing off. She seemed to be steadier on her feet now, especially with Ebolath near. Though why the little green kept going back and forth to T'rid was beyond C'oar's comprehension.

[Avu]

Oh dear, W'ri was soaking wet and muddy again. T'rid bit back a sardonic laugh that somebody else would be faced with a worse layer of mud than he'd previously been covered in, knowing it was definitely unfair and rude to do so. It wasn't W'ri's fault, after all - it was Frosstyth's. Actually, he normally would have laughed anyway, but the last thing he wanted to do was encourage Frosstyth and make him think that flinging mud every which way was acceptable. No, he liked his head firmly attached to his shoulders, and it wouldn't be so if the Headwoman found out that he'd managed to let a brown weyrlingdragon throw mud all over the halls or whatever other place she'd decided must stay spotless lest...lest somebody be mortally offended by a tiny, worthless little piece of dust. (Oh, he would so be slapped if she found out he'd ever thought that...)

T'rid blinked as Corinth abruptly left his side, moving towards Raylin. Not all Mines are entirely silly, the bronze corrected gently. There are a few people that aren't. Juliya of Eriannath isn't. It wasn't often that Corinth used any person's name, but Juliya was an HAD and she was good, and the bronze liked her - so she was honored with the useage of her name. Well, it made perfect sense to Corinth...Not always, in any case, the bronze corrected himself after a pause. He didn't quite remember exactly what the Greenrider had done, but he remembered it had been silly, and His had been extremely annoyed because of it. But I think most people are...at least, in the opinion of their dragons. Instead of mentally answering the green's suggestion, though, the bronze merely unfurled one wing, cupping it gently around the greenweyrling and curling it around to hide her fully, cutting her off from C'oar as well as the Riders.

His own Rider blinked mud out of his eyes, shaking his head to remove as much water as he could from his hair - stubborn stuff, this muddy goo - and then nearly toppled again as Ebolath nudged him in the back of the knees, saved only by flinging his arms out and staggering a few steps before he caught his balance and huffed indignantly at the green in much the same way a dragon might. Oh, so he looked cleaner now, did he? "Thanks, Ebolath," he commented, a slight edge creeping into his voice. "No offense intended, but d'you think you could help me, you know, stay that way and not make me faceplant?" He really didn't need grass woven like some Masterweaver's masterpiece into his hair, or plastered onto his face.

At least he was slightly prepared when she rubbed her head against him again at his question, though that didn't mean he necessarily liked it. T'rid repressed the desire to hiss his disapproval. Just because Ebolath was small now didn't mean she would remain so for any length of time; these first few months, the hatchlings were growing at ridiculous rates. His Corinth was still exponentially larger than any of them, but he was tempted to point out the drastic effects of what would happen if the bronze dragon decided to use him as a head-scratching post. Not only would he be knocked entirely off his feet, he'd probably be sent careening off the weyrledge eventually if the bronze did it too often. Would you like to try? I'm sure the Weyrlings would like to see a visual, Corinth suggested teasingly.

"You would not knock me off a third level weyrledge," T'rid snapped, irked by the dragon's laid-back comment. "Er...I mean, good?" he finished lamely to Raylin, one brow quirking. He couldn't see the girl, hidden as she was behind Corinth's wing, but he doubted she was quite the normal color yet. Probably still as pale as a slab of marble, he noted dryly, glancing at Corinth, who remained impassive. Angth's frightened her. She'll be fine, the bronze stated confidently. It was just a slight shock, perhaps a rush of terror, nothing...nothing permanently damaging. And he hadn't even been nude when he'd first come, so all was good. Yes...all was good. T'rid dropped his attention from the Greenweyrling, glancing down at his own mud-streaked pants and rubbing at a mud-ingrained patch just below his ribcage. He winced slightly, curling his lip in disgust.

So...muddy...

Thwap. Abruptly, a wet fabric covered his head, and T'rid's hands shot instinctively upwards, pulling it away and blinking at the brown tunic. It's yours. Put it on; you can hardly get it any wetter - or vice versa. Snorting, T'rid obediently pulled the wet cloth over his head, plucking with a slight cringe at the clinging material. It was...absolutely cold, and filthy, and...and what was W'ri looking for? His shirt? "You can hardly wear two ripped halves of a shirt and pull it off as normal," the bronzerider observed mildly. "Wouldn't it be better to just leave it and buy a new one? Nobody - er, I mean, not many people - care about public nudity anyway." Sensitive, wasn't he?

[antinanco]

W’ri looked up alertly as he heard T’rid speaking to him, not unlike a canine that had been offered a treat.

What was he suppose to say? That his ex-shirt had been one of his favorites and he cherished the emotional bonds he had with it enough to salvage it from the mud, clean it, then bring it to a Weaver and see if there was still even a slim possibility of fixing it?

Yeah, that’d go over well.

“Ah, right,” he mumbled, abruptly standing upright, “A’ll just… go do that. Yeah, but a new shirt. Right now.” Rubbing the back of his neck, or rather the mud that was on the back of his neck, he fumbled a half-bow, half-salute and made his way up river to clean off in a more private spot.

Angth remained a moment longer, giving one last perched swoop to Corinth and apologizing again, Sorry again for mine. He is clueless sometimes, but he really is a good human. I hope you don’t hold it against him!

[/b]

Hurridly W’ri scurried away from the scene, followed by a shambling Angth. He would not stop until he was around the river bend and out of sight. Hopefully, this encounter hadn’t tarnished him in the eyes of the Weyrleader forever.

((Sorry for holding this up for so long. Dx I apologize too.))
[/center][/font]

[Rei]

Raylin blinked in slight confusion as Corinth’s wing membrane suddenly blocked her view. She looked up at the large bronze gratefully. “Thank you Corinth.” She replied as she began to quickly dress. After she finished the girl gave the bronze hide next to her a gentle pat. “I am finished now Corinth.” Her voice had lost it’s shaky edge and her color did in fact look better, although it was hard to tell with the amount of mud still clinging to her. Ebolath crooned happily as Corinth’s wing surrounded her bonded. Thank you Corinth. She purred before turning to T’rid. Cocking her head slightly as she listen to him speak.

The little green nodded and flared her wings. He had thanked her! You are welcome. She responded happily to his thanks. His next comment however caused her to snort in distress. Oh no, I would not want you to faceplant. That would not be good. I would never want to hurt you. I would be so upset, as would mine. Her eyes took on a worried yellow green color and she dropped her head slightly. I have not hurt you have I? The green gave a worried croon at T’rid. I would never knock anyone off a weyrledge. They would be very hurt. I would not be happy.

Ebolath turned her attention to the river as the blue pair started to leave. Oh, Goodbye Angth! I hope you have a better day! The small green sat and swung her head around to regard her brown clutch brother. Noting his sad demeanor, she bounded over to him to nuzzle his shoulder affectionately. Clutchbrothermine? Why are you sad? You did nothing wrong. Her tone was puzzled and she turned to C’oar.

[dragon]

Frosstyth warbled softly, leaning over and nuzzling his little clutch sister with his snout. Mine says I have done bad ... he called me a 'twit'. I don't know what a twit is ... but I don't think it's good. He told her, sadly. Was it wrong to play, too? He asked, before lifting a foreleg and scraping at the goggles on his face. They were encrusted with enough mud that he really couldn't see very well again. And wearing the band under his chin for as long as he had was starting to make a sore spot. So now he tried to scrape the whole contraption off his face.

C'oar looked back at Ebolath, and lifted a brow for a moment, wondering what she wanted. And then he saw the effort Frosstyth was after, and stepped over to remove the goggles from his dragon's face before he utterly destroied them. They could be used again, maybe. Depending on how much growing the brown did between today and the next time he got a chance to work on his projects.

He had fashioned the goggles for Frosstyth so that the brown could watch him hammering on the metal, and not get anything in his eyes ... he was as careful with his dragon as he was with his own body. He wouldn't work metal without wearing them, so he wouldn't let Frosstyth watch him work metal without wearing them.

[Avu]

The bronze dragon regarded Raylin briefly as she patted his hide, assuring him she'd finished, before he furled his wings again, shifting away from the greenweyrling to settle more comfortably on the bank, though judging by the state of things, the bronzepair wouldn't be lingering very long. Things were getting organized; they had identified the shriek. Their mission had been accomplished, and T'rid probably would get bored with their company in due time. Rarely did the bronzerider stick around anybody for very long unless they amused him or he had no escape, and Corinth didn't expect this time around to be any different. The bronze crooned in response to Ebolath's thanks, flicking his tail dismissively. It's nothing. Soon you'll be large enough to do it yourself, and till then I'm happy to. With a mild shrug, the dragon resettled his wings neatly along his haunches, gleaming slightly with the water that Angth had displaced in his ever-so-graceful landing.

T'rid watched Ebolath bounce away again, repressing the urge to roll his eyes. Did she have to be so -- so happy?! She was so perpetually bouncy that T'rid felt extremely slow next to her -- and Corinth was all but a never-moving boulder in comparison to Ebolath. I am not. Of course the bronze would take offense at that. He was still much more agile, and quicker, than the larger bronzes, but still -- he was that much slower than Ebolath. At least she didn't want him to faceplant -- she was also that much sweeter than his Corinth was. Wasn't Corinth supposed to be the one stoutly championing him, making sure nobody took advantage of him or hurt him -- ? But no. He was the one tripping him up, teasing him and generally amusing himself at T'rid's benefit. Haha. Funny.

"No, you didn't hurt me," he assured her absently, rolling his eyes at Corinth, who huffed back. "And no, I don't think that you'd knock anyone off a weyrledge -- I think Corinth might me, though." If it wasn't a sure guarantee that you'd die, I would. The bronze twitched his tail lightly, blinking one jewel-faceted eye at T'ridhis in amusement. As it is...well, even the most dazzled hatchling has some sense of self-preservation, you know. I'm touched. As you ought to be. And did you hear? -- if you were hurt, Ebolath'd be upset, and so would Hers. How sweet... I hope you don't think -- He was growing steadily more irritated.

T'rid hissed at Corinth, but he was distracted as W'ri and Angth left, the bluerider desisting in his digging through the mud. Utterly perplexed as to why anybody would want to faceplant in the water for a half a shirt that had been torn by one's dragon, T'rid watched him go. Corinth rumbled softly, catching his attention as the bronze responded, Not at all. All of Ours have their bad days and their good ones. Good day to you, Angth. The dragon flopped against the riverbank with a slight yawn, glancing at T'ridhis as he passed Angth's message to the bronzerider, earning a snort of amusement from His. A bad day indeed...

Let's go.
I was counting down the seconds 'till you said that, Corinth remarked amiably as T'rid ran his hands down his front one last time, hoping to discard some of the stubbornly clinging water droplets with another cringe. Ugh...water itself he didn't mind (as long as it wasn't pouring from the sky. He loved droughts.), but when there was mud and water...gah. That was just disgusting. Come on, Mine, Corinth stated patiently, and T'rid sighed, giving up as he vaulted onto Corinth's neck, the dragon glancing over at Frosstyth -- those odd goggles were finally gone, he noted -- and Ebolath. The latter recieved an affectionate croon. Good day to you, Frosstyth, and to you, Ebolath -- Mine wishes to leave now.

With that said, the bronze dipped his head to the two hatchlings before he sprang into the air, wings snapping open to let the wind carry him and His towards the cliff, dotted with the weyrs. The sooner His got changed, the sooner his mood would possibly survive from the extraordinarily horrible state it had been in for a while.

((And exit T'rid. <3))

[Rei]

Ebolath crooned a goodbye to Corinth. Goodbye Corinth! Goodbye T’ridCorinth’s! She said happily before nudging her clutch brother again. I do not think you are a twit. Raylin watched the bronze leave and gave a small wave before walking slightly unsteadily back to C’oar. “Thanks for the rescue. Perhaps I should go get some of this mud off me. Would you mind watching Ebolath for a bit? I am sure she would love to play with Frosstyth and I need some time to wash without having a excited hatchling displacing all my hot water. You would love to play with Frosstyth wouldn’t you darling?”

Ebolath nodded happily and all but tackled Frosstyth back down the bank and into the mud. Giving a snort to clear her nostrils she wagged her tail not unlike a canine. Come on Clutchbrother mine we can look for shinys in the mud! Raylin spared C’oar a apologetic glance. “I will be sure to fetch her as soon as I’m done.” With that she turned and entered the jungle. Vega glided out of a nearby tree and chirped at C’oar as he passed to wing after his bonded.

((Feel free to close the thread out Teddy love <333))

[dragon]

C'oar nodded slightly, to Raylin, in an affirmative answer. "Alright. Go ahead." He said, quietly, before watching her walk off to a new ... and presumably hot ... bath. And then he turned his gaze back on the two young dragons, who aparently still possessed boatloads of energy. Despite all the goings ons that had just happened. He frowned slightly, as was his wont, and crossed his thick arms over his chest.

Kids.

Frosstyth all but galloped down the bank, head and tail flinging about wildly as he paddled with all his might with all four legs to race quick little Ebolath around in the mud. When she pounced on him, he let out a very girlish shriek, and tumbled down into the river with a soft wailing sound. He landed with a terrific splash, spraying mud and muddy water in all directions.

Bouncing back to his feet, he paddled after his clutch sister, warbling happily. Play! Play! Play! There was nothing quite so fun as playing with a clutchsibling in the mud, he decided. Shinies! Shinies are hiding in the mud? He asked, curiously, pausing to poke at the mud between his toes with his muddy snout.

"Possible, but doubtful." C'oar remarked, before taking a seat. He was likely going to be here a while...

((Thread closed))