Because....What? (Avu)

[reqqy]

"I promised."

Jessereth huffed, unimpressed. You will bed her once, then never see her again. Why not just get it over with and skip this? "Human women are not like dragons, Jess. They don't just go into heat. You have to warm them up." Get a couple of furs, then. Z'hin laughed. "Not literally, Jess." Why you humans can't just be straightforward is beyond me. It's as simple as, 'I want you. You want me. Let's Fly.' "And sometimes that's all that goes into it. But some women like to be...courted. Makes it feel like they're not just giving out handouts."

The brown wended against the current, matching Z'hin's sedate pace along the riverbank. Twilight painted the land in pleasant shadow, which was one of the reasons the dragon wasn't particularly keen on this idea. He'd much rather be back on his ledge, preparing for sleep. HinMine kept their schedules quite full and Jessereth was always tired by the end of the day. But it had been nearly a sevenday since the man's latest 'conquest,' so Jess was willing to be...flexible. So long as he got a chance to complain. Loudly.

How much further? "They grow in still pools. No more than another half mile." Mine, this is bothersome. It will be dark by the time we get back. "Yes, well, it took me longer to oil you than I expected. Mostly because you refused to be cooperative." You oiled me three days ago. I wanted to go flying. "Most dragons don't complain..." Most dragons did not choose you. I did. To my undying regret. Z'hin smirked at his bonded. "Which is why you're so willing to share my attention with other living things." A dragon must make do with what he has, Jessereth responded sagely. The least you could do is be grateful. The man's face softened. "You know I'm grateful, right? I can't imagine what it would have been like without you."

The brownpair fell into relative silence, listening to the evening sounds. It was a rare luxury, particularly for Z'hin, who had spent many a night under the open sky in his youth. Jessereth respected his rider's silence and found that he, too, enjoyed the peace and the cool - even if he really, really would much rather be sleeping. "Here it is," the brownrider whispered into the hush, striding toward the clear water standing separate from the river. Each rain it was replenished. And there, just below the surface, the aquatic blooms that flowered every evening and withered away by sunrise. Even in the winter, so long as there was no ice. Z'hin had spoken of that to his latest interest, and she'd immediately begged one of him.

The brownrider stroked one of the petals lightly, remembering how much his sister loved these particular blooms. Then he plucked three, careful to leave much of the stalk behind such that the flowers would continue to grow. He carefully wrapped them in a moistened piece of cloth and tucked them into his riding jacket. We can go back now, then?

[Avu]

“What the Shards do you mean, Stupid ran off?” T’rid glared disbelievingly at Corinth, who raised one wing in a halfhearted embarrassment. “Why would that stupid little thing run away? Mir didn’t run!” T’rid emphasized that by jabbing one finger at the blue fire lizard, who cheeped anxiously in alarm as he edged warily away from the finger. “I thought Stupid was…eh…too smart to get lost.” Corinth shrugged. He did not ‘get lost.’ I don’t think. He was trying to get the attention of a green dragon…she ignored him, obviously…and he went off to sulk. He gave me a very clear image of where he was, and he also said that he was hungry and wanted you to come get him. “Why didn’t he just contact me?” T’rid demanded, reaching for the brown Salamandyr. A wave of hunger met his probe, which he withdrew promptly. You don’t /listen/ to him. Are you going to find him or not? “I guess I have to, don’t I?”

He sighed. “Fly me there, Corinth?” If I must. “You must,” T’rid growled, swinging onto the bronze dragon’s back after stuffing a pouch of dried meat into one pocket. Corinth huffed in low amusement. “Are you sure that you’ve got the coordinates right?” he added suspiciously. Positive. We’ve been there before. It’s a ways along the river. At least Stupid has enough sense to follow the river, eh? “Yeah, why don’t we just give him a medal?” T’rid responded sarcastically. Corinth rumbled as he transferred the image to T’rid, who considered it and then nodded. “I know that place.” I did say you did. “Go between, then,” T’rid directed, and the bronze obediently transferred between.

As soon as they reappeared and winged in to land, a dark brown bolt scuttled out from under the large leaf of a fern of some sort, chattering in excitement and radiating waves of hunger to them. Hungryhungryhungry Stupidfood myStupid foodfoodfood! Cleversmart bring foodfoodfood Stupid yum eat chew. Bigstupid it say? Good Bigstupid. “And you wonder why I don’t usually listen to him?” T’rid grumbled as he vaulted down from Corinth and let the ‘mandyr crawl up his leg. Foodfoodfood. “If I feed you, you can’t talk again for the rest of the night,” T’rid warned. Foodfoodfood. “Have it your way.” T’rid stuffed the dried meat at Stupid, who all but choked in his urgency to eat it.

“All right, lets get out of here,” T’rid muttered, turning to mount Corinth again, but Stupid promptly bit his finger, eliciting a low swear. “Shardit, what the—?” Nonono. Bigstupid fly nonono. Nonono. Nonono, he said emphatically. Perhaps he wants you to walk back, Corinth suggested. “Fine,” T’rid hissed, pinching at Stupid’s jaws to try to make him release his finger. “I’m walking, I’m walking, shardit. Let go.” Stupid squeaked through his teeth and dropped T’rid’s finger, diving into his pocket. I’ll fly overhead, if you have no objections? “No, have fun.” Corinth ignored the note of sarcasm inflicted in the three innocent words, launching himself into the air and drifting at a leisurely pace back towards the Weyr.

Beneath him, T’rid walked at a quick pace, following the river back to the Weyr. I hate Stupid. Corinth decided (perhaps rightly) not to answer that. About a quarter of the way back, Corinth broke the silence. Jessereth and His are ahead. T’rid half-turned his face upwards to watch Corinth. What’re they doing? The bronze tilted his head. Jessereth’s is wrapping something in…um. Something. Near the river. Would you like to talk to them? They /are/ in my way, T’rid replied unenthusiastically. Corinth didn’t reply, flying ahead and landing a short distance away from Jessereth and His, flicking his tail and rumbling a low greeting. He didn’t know Jessereth, had barely even seen him before, and he hadn’t had any particular desire to. But, eh.

T’rid, meanwhile, occupied himself by trying to find some way of letting Z’hin know he was coming—thus lowering the chance of being knifed right away. Stupid provided a very good way of doing this. A slight smirk flicked across his mouth as he flicked his pocket when he judged himself to be within range. A loud shrill shriek rewarded him, along with a jabber of mental chatter. STUPID! STUPID MY, EAT EATHISS! STUPID! That ought to take care of that problem, since Stupid had, in his lovely way, addressed everyone nearby. T’rid grinned, much cheered by Stupid’s indignation, and approached the Brownpair. His eyes flickered downwards to the pool of water next to the river, taking in the blossoms. “Unless those are poisonous or have some mysterious medical traits, I really can’t see why you want to pick flowers at this time of night.”

[reqqy]

At the first glimmer of bronze hide, tension slipped into Jessereth's frame, but it bled back out the moment he could be certain that the newcomer was neither Rath nor Ciceroth. Z'hin glanced up from what he was doing long enough to smile knowingly at his brown, receiving nothing more than an irritated huff for his troubles. Jessereth had an uncanny ability of making enemies of bronzes. Well, northern bronzes, anyway. Though it was unlikely they'd admit it, this had also been true during their time in the north. Z'hin was typically irreverent, and Jessereth was never easy to get along with and obviously could care less what authority a dragon was granted through the accident of his hatching. Fortunately for the pair, they were often dismissed as unimportant and left to their own devices. Often, but not always.

Jessereth reluctantly acknowledged the greeting by exiting the river and folding his wings against his sides after a good hard shake. Did he return it, though? Hardly. If the bronze was - ironically - Ciceroth or Bearinth, or possibly Kirayuth, he would have for the simple reason that they ranked him. Technically, so did Corinth, but Jessereth wasn't part of Blizzard wing so, as usual, he conveniently ignored that rather insignificant detail. But he was actually in a somewhat sociable mood. Or maybe he was just tired. At any rate, he broke the silence he normally would have maintained and spoke. What are you doing here? Ever so polite, this Jessereth.

If Corinth was here, that likely meant...Z'hin jumped at the screeching in his head. Had T'rid been any closer, he might have found a quite comically surprised expression on the brownrider's face. Hrorek immediately popped in from Between, then summarily hopped the short distance to the bronzerider and back, feeding the images to his minepet. Z'hin blinked. A salamandyr? That was what was making all that racket? Hrorek settled on his shoulder and nibbled at an ear. "Hold on a second." It took a moment to fish out the meat, handing some over to his blue, who laid into it ravenously as he watched the approach of the other two-legged and its annoying lizardy thing.

Don't tell me he does that all the time, Jessereth grumped, huffing quietly. Meanwhile, Z'hin finished wrapping the blooms, not bothering to keep tabs on the kid. After months in a fighting wing in the north, he just couldn't bring himself to see a southern teenaged bronzerider as an actual threat. And no, it hardly mattered that T'rid had been a dragonrider longer. Sheltered was sheltered. No getting around that.

"I'm just sentimental that way," the brownrider commented, not at all put off by the condescending tone of the other rider. He finally looked the boy in the eyes. T'rid was a bit taller, but Z'hin was certainly the bigger of the two. That was common enough when it came to how he compared to the average bronzerider. "One, it's not night. This is called evening. If you look very, very closely, you'll see that Rukbat has not quite set just yet." He straightened his jacket. "Two, I'm out here at this time because these particular flowers only bloom at night. They wither just before dawn. And three, you don't want a woman mad at you because you refused to get what she asked. Aside from the very obvious truth that this means you won't be laying her any time soon, women are bothersome when crossed."

Was he being condescending in return? Certainly. Z'hin typically reacted in this manner unless there was some practical reason not to. He was about as fond of being talked down to as the next person. "I trust you have a far more important reason for being out here at this time?"

[Avu]

Lack of greeting? Well, that wasn’t very polite now, was it? Corinth didn’t particularly care, so he let that sit at that. If Jessereth didn’t feel…ready…to greet him, he certainly wasn’t going to force him to. I would, T’rid offered silently, as Jessereth came out of the river after shaking…which slightly amused Corinth, as shaking in the river really didn’t accomplish as much as shaking after exiting the river. Or maybe he was just picky…Mm. That was probably more likely. The bronze tucked his tail absently around his haunches, bringing the edge to dust along the ground as he contemplated the river’s cool depths. Perhaps he should go in…but then he would be wet, and flying would be no fun. He’d just stay out here…for now…

The first set of lids had just slid, translucently, over his eyes when Jessereth chose to speak. Corinth opened his eyes again as manners demanded and sighed, considering. T’rid’s little pet went off to flirt with a green dragon and was ignored. And ran away. He shrugged dismissively. Salamandyrs were known for being weird; it didn’t particularly matter to him that Stupid was just a little weirder than most. It was just a phase, of course—he hadn’t actually Chased a green dragon yet (possibly because he wasn’t mature), so he’d let the brown be completely weird without interference. He’d get over it, Corinth was sure. The point is, he refused to come back to the Weyr unless Ridmine brought him food…and so, of course we came out to get some.

He tilted his head curiously at Jessereth, about to ask after what the brown was doing, but that was about the time Stupid started screeching. Corinth’s eyes flashed momentary shades of surprise before dwindling to amusement again. Oh, Stupid was just being silly now—T’rid couldn’t have done that much. A reaction as…intense…as that was not unusual for Stupid. Corinth had mostly gotten used to it, aside from the occasional surprise. I’m afraid so, the bronze agreed at Jesserth’s rather grumpy comment, although his ‘voice’ didn’t hold irritation at Stupid so much as amused tolerance. He kind of liked having Stupid around—it made life fun, not as…static…as life without him had been. T’rid had been trying to train Stupid not to yell at everyone, but, as here displayed, he had been completely unsuccessful, which came in handy in some situations.

T’rid, meanwhile, watched silently as the Brownrider finished wrapping his pretty little flowers, one eyebrow raised, his mouth twisted in a crooked grin of amusement. They were just flowers, for Shards’ sake…eh. Maybe they really were poisonous…that would be interesting, no? Or, if not poisonous, perhaps they made dragons or humans confused and giggly or something…it was much more interesting pretending that the blooms were suspicious rather than just pretty decorations, no?

…and there went his daydreams. Sentimental? T’rid couldn’t help rolling his eyes, the grin becoming more of a smirk. “Oh, that’s just wonderful,” he murmured under his breath. If Z’hin couldn’t hear him, that was all right; he didn’t particularly care. Stupid quivered in his pocket, mumbling, Big notMy’s sandy…? Sandy…sand…umm, to the small group. T’rid ignored the brown—he was already far too accustomed to hearing the brown mumbling randomly—and focused on Z’hin. He’d really rather not try to decipher Stupid’s meaningless comments right now….and he was being lectured on the times of day. “It’s still late enough that only a complete dimglow would come this far from the Weyr,” he commented dryly. He was fully aware that he included himself in that—and he meant to. He was already irritated at himself for yielding to Stupid’s beckoning and even stepping foot outside of the Weyr to look for the Salamandyr.

Z’hin’s “two” made his smirk grow slightly wider. So he was fetching pois—no. Not poisoned. Just pretty—flowers for a woman? “Are you sure she won’t just grab the flowers and run?” he asked wryly. Please, please don’t get yourself killed, Corinth said warningly. Or I’ll…um. Well, just don’t.

Reason...important? T'rid glanced down at his pocket, raising an eyebrow at Stupid, who had his head poked out, staring from Jessereth and Corinth to Z'hin to His. "Well, I don't know, would you count coming to rescue an irritating little thing that could yell at you mentally important or not?" Personally, if he'd had anything better to do, he wouldn't have come. Stupid could manage just fine, and he'd certainly end up back at the Weyr eventually- not to mention that a few Stupid-free moments would be savored.

[reqqy]

A green dragon. The brown’s tone was clearly incredulous. That seemed rather impossible, now didn’t it? If he were a green, he would be rejecting the silly little ‘mandyr, too. He didn’t seem perturbed at Corinth’s reaction to him. In general, Jessereth was just fine so long as he wasn’t bothered. Of course, it was fairly easy to bother him, but that was neither here nor there.

The irritation immediately picked back up when Corinth’s response held a trace of amusement in regard to the pest. HinMine’s little blue menace is much better behaved. And absolutely silent, the brown commented stuffily. He wasn’t particularly fond of Hrorek, either, but at least the firelizard generally kept out of his way. Of course, Hrorek insisted on taking up HinMine’s time, but since Z’hin wasn’t at all bothered by it (and had informed Jessereth in no uncertain terms that he would be most displeased should the brown attempt to sit on Hrorek) there was little the dragon could do about his annoyance.

Z’hin wasn’t fairing much better with T’rid. The older of the two addressed T’rid’s muttered sarcasm with a single raised eyebrow, the suggestion of a smirk – though the expression itself could hardly be described as anything other than wholly neutral – lending his demeanor a certain arrogance. He actually snorted outright at the bronzerider’s comment about deadglows, simply allowing the bronzerider to continue to dig himself into a hole. “I could see why you’d think women typically run away from men, seeing as how that’s likely all the experience you have with them. I’ve never had that particular problem, though.” Which was true enough. The brownrider had a steady flow of bedpartners. There were always women looking for something quick and novel – or just a little relief.

“I can’t argue with you on the deadglow issue. It is more than just a little stupid to be wandering this far from the weyr, in the jungle, during this time. Although I’d say it’s decidedly more foolish for someone who didn’t spend over seventeen turns of his life living in these jungles than someone like myself.” What was there to be afraid of, after all, for a man like Z’hin? He’d seen it all before. Even took on a pride of felines with nothing more than a thick stick, and while that was the reason for the half-crippled state of his left arm, the truth remained that he’d still clearly survived what should have been an impossible situation. In the end, there was really nothing about these jungles that the man feared.

No, these were tame compared to the northern warfare in which he’d taken part.

Z'hin laughed at T'rid's question. "That depends on how aggravating the yelling was - and how long it took for the jungle to kill him, I imagine."

[Avu]

…Jessereth didn’t believe him. That was the first thought that flickered across Corinth’s mind, although the bronze didn’t really blame the brown. A Salamandyr flirting with a green dragon—a highly amusing image unless you were Bonded to that particular ‘mandyr and could feel the absolute devotion all but radiating off of him. That’s right, he agreed, a bit dubiously himself—although it wasn’t the story he doubted so much as Stupid’s motives. What could a Salamandyr possibly hope to gain by flirting with a dragon? It made absolutely no sense. He was going to settle for it just being a quirk…which the brown would hopefully grow out of.

The next comment brought another wave of slight amusement. Ridmine has a blue fire lizard, too. He doesn’t do much—but he’s much calmer and more tolerant than Stupid is. He just didn’t come. A shrug. I don’t particularly like him—at least Stupid amuses me. Did dragons get headaches? T’rid had complained many a time that Stupid had given him headaches, but Corinth had yet to feel one because of the creature’s haphazard mumbling and prying. He had been startled a few times—such as when the brown tried to crawl into his mouth, and tried to follow him between—but he was perfectly all right with Stupid. A bit irritating, perhaps, but still acceptable.

Z’hin amused T’rid. The Bronzerider watched him silently, his hazel eyes hooded as Stupid crawled out of his pocket for a better vantage point of whoever had stopped T’rid’s progress back to the Weyr and very cozy furs to sleep in. Why Stupid? No? Big notMy mean, Stupid bitekill? he demanded of the entire group, in his favorite way of broadcasting—and the more violent the response, the better. The brown’s eyes flicked smugly to Z’hin. He had just threatened to kill him! Surely this response would be hilarious. Or so the brown thought, as he flicked his tail around T’rid’s neck, leaning forward in anticipation, while T’rid reached up to absently pet the brown. No killing. Bitekill! proclaimed Stupid importantly. T’rid growled in his throat, and the brown scuttled back to his pocket, reproving T’rid with a sharp chatter. No killing? Oh, how boring.

The faintest flash of irritation flickered across the Bronzerider’s face. Normal for women to run away from men? Just because he wasn’t a lusty idiot who took great care to have at least one bedpartner a sevenday didn’t mean women ran away from him. Actually, he didn’t even go seeking bedpartners at all—the only times he slept around was when he was forced into it—i.e. when Corinth won (or lost) a Flight. “Unlike some, I don’t particularly care if my bed’s shared or not,” he answered innocently. He couldn’t really say whether or not it was unusual for women to run from him—the few he cared to talk to or even acknowledge hadn’t, anyway.

He shrugged—rather vaguely—at the idea of spending seventeen Turns living in the jungle. Although the thought that flicked across his mind would never be voiced aloud (“Why on Pern would any /sane/ person spend that long in here, especially when the Weyr’s only a short walk?”), he did speak. “And do I want to know why such an amazingly, obviously intelligent person would spend so long out here?” It was kind of the same question…just not quite as…blatantly obnoxious. Well, since he’d managed to inflict a fair amount of sarcasm, it wasn’t exactly polite either—but at least…?

Another shrug. “Annoying enough, considering every other word was ‘stupid,’ and probably yelled to the entire Weyr as much as he could manage.” T’rid had to grin at that, though—who knew how many deadglows he’d interrupted? A much more cheerful thought, that. “He was hungry,” he added, grimacing. “Like he always is.”

[reqqy]

Corinth preferred amusement to peace and quiet, then? strange bronze. Most were not so...entertainment-oriented. He didn't always find bronzes to be practical, but they were rarely less than serious. If you find perpetual irritation to be amusing, all I can say is better you than me, the brown responded drolly. It looked like this delay may last for awhile yet, such that Jessereth ascended further up the bank and plopped down practically at HinMine's feet. He then proceeded to stare at His pointedly. Must they remain in this tiresome company any longer. Z'hin merely smirked at the brown. Lovely. Why did Jessereth's displeasure always amuse him? Because you're always displeased and right now you're acting like a brat, of course, Z'hin returned calmly. Jess huffed.

Although the brownrider couldn't say he was particularly impressed with the young man thus far, the conversation itself was a welcome change of pace. "Kill me, good sir?" Z'hin stated, with just the right amount of shocked outrage to get him punched by a certain weyrleader for being so blatantly mocking. "I cannot imagine what would birth such a desire in you, but do not think I shall die quietly. Oh no!" Of course, then T'rid had to go and spoil his fun. Z'hin responded with a mental shrug. "Don't lose yeart yet," the brownrider added to Stupid in a stage whisper. "We shall have our duel when fussy over here isn't looking. You'll see!"

Z'hin affected a brotherly expression, allowing his large, work-hardened hand to fall on the younger man's shoulder. Did T'rid think his statement was some sort of insult? Z'hin would quite happily admit that he preferred company - female company - to spending his nights alone. What virtue can be found in celibacy, anyway? The only less savory prospect to the young brownrider was the thought of being yoked to one domineering woman. "Still insecure, I see," Z'hin commented, his tone positively reeking of false sympathy. "Don't worry. Confidence will come with practice. Or perhaps you're simply not fond of women?" His point made, he let his arm fall, eyes betraying the laughter his tone and expression would not.

The amusement spread to his lips in what could only be called an ironic smile at the boy's sarcastic query. "You think I would presume to know what you do or do not want?" he returned laughingly. Z'hin waxed serious for a moment. "I was born in the jungles, or it would be obvious, but my family was Shunned." He shrugged mildly. "You can only make do with what life doles out, no? Any more brilliant questions?"

Z'hin merely shrugged at T'rid's explanation. Salamandyrs were known for being obnoxious, and as the bronzerider had been at Selenitas longer than he, the kid really had no right to complain. If he didn't want to be bonded to an annoying pest, he shouldn't have been at the hatching in the first place. Besides, they seemed to make life quite interesting. If you get one of those, I'm sitting on you until you're crushed so flat the weyrbrats could play marbles on you without any trouble. Grumpy.

[Avu]

Perpetual irritation? Stupid? Well, perhaps. Corinth considered dubiously, absently glancing sideways at the brown Salamandyr. He did shut up some times…like when it was blatantly obvious he was being ignored. Then he’d go off to sulk about that for a while, and the silence was oddly disorienting after his indignant shrieks stopped echoing through the Weyr. He shrugged wordlessly, a rather vague Well, that’s all right then, being the only reply to Jessereth’s comment. Mir irritated the bronze a good deal more than Stupid did, after all—his lack of response was completely bewildering. The blue flitter acted as if nothing short of meat could tempt a reaction out of him. It frustrated Corinth—a playful flitter or ‘mandyr was much preferred over such a lifeless one. The bronze watched silently, tail still tucked around his haunches, as Jessereth wandered up to His and plopped there. Corinth didn’t pursue him, although his blue-green eyes had the slightest shade of amusement in them.

Stupid was delighted by Z’hin. After the first few days, T’rid had taken to ignoring the ‘mandyr whenever he made one of his more…dramatic…pronouncements. Such a literate, and yet satisfying, reaction was rare (most of the time it was gasping, occasionally screaming). He adored it. The brown hissed, displaying his oddly-shaped frill at Z’hin. Stupidass block, he said explanatorily, borrowing one of T’rid’s descriptions of people he didn’t particularly like. It was a simple word, not too many letters or syllables, and very easy to pronounce. Good. As Z’hin went on, he puffed out his chest, his frill still quivering. Stupid /maul/, he threatened happily, and probably would have gone on had T’rid not reached into his pocket and pulled him out, tossing him lightly onto the ground between himself and Z’hin, with a smile that, had he been any more feminine, could have been described as sweet. “If you wish to fight, don’t let me stop you, but please, Brownrider, take care to kill him so I don’t have to deal with him.”

He stiffened automatically under the other man’s hand, although he didn’t shrink away. Instead, T’rid forced himself to relax. What was it about having someone put their hand on his shoulder that irritated him so much? It seemed a gesture reserved for the younger, the inexperienced. And so what if it was true? He completely outranked Z’hin. S’rei, who had made the same motion (although much more sincerely) during Wing Drills, outranked him, but still. Even so, he had to chuckle at the first comment. Insecure? “Oh, yes, that’s me, so insecure,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He shrugged, stepping sideways at the same time in an attempt to make Z’hin let go of his shoulder, at the next—much more pointed—query, at about the same time that Z’hin chose to drop his arm anyway. Well, eh. Not fond of women? Meaning what, he was fond of men? He managed to keep the irritation from showing on his face, smiling with mock cheer. “I hope all Brownriders don’t think that just because a man doesn’t share his furs nightly means that he’s not fond of women—it would be terribly boring, don’t you think?”

Z’hin received a wordless shrug at the question, T’rid merely raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to answer a question; he already had. It was Z’hin’s turn. Born in jungles, family Shunned—that wasn’t very nice now, was it? T’rid mulled over it for a second, and then dismissed it. It didn’t really matter, although it did—although he was loath to admit it—raise his respect for—well, not Z’hin so much as his family. What had they done to get Shunned? At the sarcastic query, however, he merely smiled again. “I’ll be sure and let you know when I do,” he replied, still in cheerful tones. Stupid cocked his head first one way, and then the other. Shunnnnnn? Unnn? Shununun, shun, whyshun? he demanded of Z’hin, displaying to get the man’s attention.

The shrug was…not particularly enlightening. He sighed, nudging Stupid with his shoe. The little thing caused him far more trouble than he’d anticipated. Corinth would definitely pay when the brown landed him with a male sharing his furs due to a ‘mandyr Run.

[reqqy]

“Terribly boring to never have a warm body in your furs? I imagine so, though I wouldn’t know,” the brownrider returned cheerfully with a mild shrug. “Everyone has a night or two that they just want to themselves. It’s only when a man is consistently alone that people begin to wonder.” Had he thought this would be boring? Oh, he was enjoying himself quite a bit, he was, for Z’hin had always loved to tease. Admittedly, his sense of humor had changed quite a lot in the past turn or so, but he was just as quick-tongued as ever. T’rid was ever so good at leaving himself open, too. It didn’t at all help that the bronzerider’s intended barbs had no effect. Z’hin was rather proud of his conquests, after all! In the end, he was getting some, so it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought about it.

Admittedly, though, the brownrider was far more interested in Stupid than the kid. This salamandyr would prove to be quite amusing, he was sure of it. In fact, he crouched near the brown, casting a mischievous glance up at T’rid before he stated, quietly. “That stupidyours wants this stupidass block to kill you dead. Not very nice of him,” Z’hin told the ‘mandyr, in a voice that had been lowered in what could only be described as a conspiratorial manner. “I think it would be quite amusing if we teamed up against him. What do you say? Or we could just have our duel and he’d get what he wanted. But where’s the fun in that?”

Mine, can’t we just leave? Talk to Corinth, Jess. But he’s boring. The brownrider wrinkled his nose at his mindmate. Talk about whiny. His attention shifted back to Stupid as the salamandyr displayed brilliantly, asking after the Shunning. Z’hin frowned mildly. “Because my father was a stupidass block, no doubt,” the man replied, speaking to Stupid directly again. “He never would tell me why. A bad, bad man.” Z’hin glanced up at T’rid, settling his jacket more firmly about his shoulders. He had no problems satisfying Stupid’s curiosity, but he wasn’t about to go into great detail with the bronzerider around.

Not that there was a lot of detail to go into. Frankly? There was little that even Z’hin knew about his family, except that it was his Father who had been Shunned, and apparently after his eldest brother was born, because he was marked, too. He still didn’t know what the different symbols stood for, and was in no hurry to discover it. Some things were best left a mystery.

[Avu]

You’re not angry, are you? Corinth’s tones sounded dubious as Z’hin spoke; T’rid was careful to keep his tones just as cheerful as Z’hin’s and his face likewise, but the bronze could feel some irritation coming from His. Angry might be a bit strong, he admitted. Annoyed, maybe. The bronze shrugged, his eyes on Stupid even as T’rid shrugged, casually running one hand through his already-tangled hair. Which accomplished absolutely nothing, be it to mess up or straighten his hair. “Wonder why they aren’t obsessed with sex? Yes, that would be a change from the normal,” he answered with mock solemnity, and wrinkled his nose slightly. Just because he wasn’t completely all-out for sleeping with a different woman every sevenday—Corinth forced him into that quite enough to suit him without him adding onto it, thank you—ugh. I thought we were just passing by, Corinth commented dryly. Sillystupid /maul/, Stupid added privately, solemnity ringing through his tones. T’rid ignored both of them, something fast becoming a habit.

The brown ‘mandyr was very, very pleased by having so much attention. He liked this stupid one. MyStupid save, Stupid informed Z’hin conspiratorially, apparently cheerfully oblivious to the fact he made little sense. Big, big, big scaries up ‘bove, Bigstupid tell scare, find yum. Food? he added questioningly, skittering from the ground to Z’hin’s shoe and then deftly climbing up the man’s leg to his shoulder, digging in his claws stubbornly just in case this stupid took it to mind to knock him off. His did that all too often. He was taking no chances with this one. Stupid poked his head at the Brownrider’s ear cheerfully. ‘Tack Stupidmine, stupid maul Stupidmine, maul Stupidnotmy? Whatever plan he might have had, good or otherwise, was slightly ruined by the fact that he still was addressing everybody—Jessereth, Corinth, T’rid, and Z’hin. T’rid watched the brown Salamandyr silently, although he raised one eyebrow, a clearly dispassionate look on his face. “He seems to like you. You can keep him, if you want,” he offered sweetly.

The Bronzerider did listen despite himself as Z’hin addressed Stupid’s question—the brown stuck out his frill importantly, the edges of the oddly-shaped apparatus quivering in the air—and couldn’t quite repress an amused snort. He didn’t honestly think Stupid understood half the words he said, did he? The only words the ‘mandyr probably did understand were “stupidass block,” and “bad, bad man.” If that. Stupid shot him a glare as if hearing his thoughts—although no doubt the look of amusement on his face and the snort were quite enough to interpret a rough sketch of his thoughts anyway—and hissed. Stupidmine bad, bad, he said indignantly. Bad, bad man, stupidass. He seemed to be agreeing with Z’hin, but with Stupid, it was hard to tell. He trilled slightly, flexing his claws absently in the man’s shirt where he had tangled them. Yes? the Salamandyr added questioningly, as if he was inviting Z’hin into the conversation more. See? He was a polite Stupid.

[reqqy]

The brownrider was finally growing tired of his needling - perhaps because T'rid was so ill-equipped to deal with it. Poor thing was obviously grinding his teeth, at least mentally, and while that amused Z'hin he generally didn't much relish circular conversations, which was what this was turning into. It would have kept his interest longer if T'rid was visibly upset. As it was, he didn't care to continue the pestering merely to get a rise out of the bronzerider. Thus he relented. "Come now, kid. You know I'm just giving you crap. Serves you right for coming up and mocking me right at the start, eh? I try to make it a point to give better than I get." He winked at T'rid. "Besides, it is rather unusual for a male your age not to be chasing skirts half the day. You can't deny that. But if you can use your time more productively, all the more power to you."

He shrugged amiably, nodding to Jessereth. Now? Might as well start walking back. I've got plans tonight. Before he could stand and walk back, however, Stupid began talking again. The brownrider smiled at the creature and shook his head lightly. Though he'd managed to mostly understand the lizardy thing up to now, he couldn't make head nor tail of the words this time around. "Right you are. Food is always good," he replied, with a mental shrug. Z'hin dug around in his pockets as Stupid scurried up him. If the claws bothered him, there was no visual indication of it, but then, Z'hin was used to being battered around a bit for his tongue, so a few pinpricks were unlikely to phase him much.

The brownrider straightened and laughed at the 'mandyr's suggestion. "Not a bad plan at all. I don't mind doubleteaming, but, you see, you just told your stupid what you were going to do. Now he's expecting it. We have to plan a sneak attack when he's not around to hear. Got some food for you, though. How 'bout we do that for now?" He offered the food to the salamandyr, just a half of a meatroll left over from dinner, really. Z'hin had no problems talking to the creature, even if Stupid was unlikely to understand everything. He did throw a smirk at T'rid, though. "Oh, he's more than welcome to stick around, bronzerider, but you can't reverse an Impression; Stupid's yours for good."

The brownrider snorted as well, nodding to T'rid to walk with him. Jessereth had already slid back into the river, casting furtive glances at the two. Z'hin shot him a hard glare. "Yes. I quite agree. He was trying to get rid of you just now, and that's very, very bad."

[Avu]

You're not very good at socializing, Corinth commented critically. Go. Away. T'rid absently glanced at the bronze, who had taken to lounging silently in the clearing, eyes clearly amused, although Z'hin's...well, it wasn't an apology, but neither was it insulting. That was good...although he did resent being called "kid". Was he honestly that young in comparison? He doubted it, but since a slightly more peaceful comment had been offered, he bit back on declaring that to the world at large. "I protest at the idea of mocking," he answered wryly, "But point taken." The Bronzerider did wrinkle his nose at the idea of 'chasing skirts,' as Z'hin so nicely put it. "Corinth does enough of that for both of us." That was a bit of an exaggeration, but the bronze did enjoy Greenflights far too much - which obviously ended in him bedding some new Flightmoth every so often. "I can't honestly say productively, but..."

Stupid was squinting at Z'hin's pocket. He liked pockets. They were small, cozy places, just a small enough space for him to squirm into - and big enough for him to maneuver around so that he could pop out whenever with ease, and bite T'rid whenever he tried to pull him out when Stupid insisted on staying in. Yes, he liked pockets very much indeed - and Z'hin had drawn attention to his pocket by rooting around within it. Stupid pocketpouch, much? he asked curiously, lashing his tail as far as it would go around Z'hin's neck and leaning out precariously to look at the pocket. Pockets always produced good things, be it something shiny, something that could be eaten, or even just a place to sit.

The brown 'mandyr cocked his head, considering Z'hin's words solemnly. He stupid, notknow, the 'mandyr pronounced at last, staring at T'rid, who would have flicked something at him had he not been perched on someone else. For example, flicking seeds at Stupid always elicited a lovely response. Sneak, yehfun, 'tack him, maul? He bounced happily on Z'hin's shoulder as the hand that had been delving into the pocket (O Lovely Pocket!) reached up to him and it bore a meatroll on it. Meatrolls were good. He snagged it and started gnawing happily. Oh, he adored this human. He treated Stupid like he might a Bigstupid - which nobody else recognized him as good as - and he gave food. What more could one want? T'rid was watching silently, a smile twitching the corner of one lip, his mind already wondering if it would be possible to convince Stupid to leave him alone and go chat at Z'hin for a while each day instead of bothering him. Oh, the possibilities...he shrugged at Z'hin. "If he sticks to you like glue, I really don't think it matters who he's Impressed to, seeing as he won't be around to bug me."

He fell into step along with Z'hin automatically, glancing at Corinth. You can fly, if you want. The bronze dragon nodded, apparently not deigning to speak for time being, and launched himself into the air, flaring his wings to catch a thermal and drifting languidly back towards the Weyr. He had no desire to fly at impossible speeds, and it wasn't like T'ridhis walked quickly enough to leave him behind anyways. Veryveryvery bad stupid, Stupid agreed gravely, still riding happily on Z'hin's shoulder. T'rid glanced sideways at the Brownrider. "You don't honestly like Salamandyrs, do you?" he asked, raising one brow in surprise. He certainly acted like he did, which was surprising. Was it possible to like something as obnoxious and...weird as Stupid?

[reqqy]

Z'hin merely smiled at T'rid, and if the smile was a bit quirky, that was simply the nature of all his smiles. It probably took away from the experience a bit, he would have to admit, if a man's first time was still as a boy. This bronzerider was younger than Z'hin - the brownrider was quite sure of it, or, at least, T'rid appeared and acted younger. Far younger, really, or he wouldn't be calling him 'kid.' And Corinth was from Aslath's clutch, which would put him at...five turns now? Four turns ago, Z'hin was sixteen, so T'rid had to be younger than that. Then again, he could be completely off the mark. The young man may not have been a virgin at the time at all, but, as far as he was aware, most men didn't start getting seriously distracted by the whole issue of sexuality until about seventeen. The latter part of sixteen, maybe. Dragonlust wasn't anything like the real deal. In fact, it just made him all the more desperate for a lay after the culmination.

"You should probably try something outside of Flightlust every once in awhile," Z'hin commented lightly, no longer teasing. "If you haven't, I mean. It's really quite a bit different when you're fully aware and in control of yourself." Relatively speaking, of course. He didn't actually care that much about the kid's sex life, but he did think it something of a shame to go through life thinking Flightlust was the pinnacle of an intimate experience. Quite a shame.

It was a bit odd to have such a responsive creature on his shoulder. Hrorek was responsive as well, but Z'hin was fairly certain the blue was mute, as he'd never heard the flitter so much as croon. The firelizard also showed himself quite rarely, truth be told, although the brownrider was fairly certain any food missing off his plate whenever he went to the dining hall was likely the result of his intelligent little companion. Stupid was far more vocal, at the very least, and apparently interested in his pocket. Kind of made sense, since he'd been in T'rid's. Must like pockets.

"Oh, I don't know. You'd have to be especially stupid not to know when you've just been told, I think." Z'hin touched his swollen, eye delicately. Still nicely bruised, it was quite clear he'd been punched there not so long ago. "I'd rather not get punched in the face more than once a sevenday, you know," he concluded dryly. The brownrider could only laugh at the bouncing creature. Food could win anything over, it seemed. "Oh, we'll come up with something especially fun and cruel. Maul him up right good, that we will." He winked at T'rid as he spoke.

Then smirked. "Oh, sure. He won't bug you at all if he's around me...until he decides to chase something. Then I can just watch and think of how buggered you are right at that moment. You know, I'm liking this idea more and more. Jessereth said he was flirting with green dragons? I wonder if I can...encourage that." Oh, evil, evil grin.

Striding along purposefully, Z'hin kept on casting glances at Jessereth. The brown was up to something. He was sure of it. "Did you hear that, Stupid? Your bad stupid thinks I shouldn't like you." The brownrider tossed T'rid a grin. "Salamandyrs make life interesting, though I'm quite content to simply play with other people's and hand them back when I'm done."

[Avu]

T'rid wasn't really sure if he liked it that his youth was recognized - or hated it. He'd much rather be perceived as a mere boy than as an old man in terms of age; but then people tended not to treat him as if he was intelligent when he let them think of him as a boy. It wasn't as if he wasn't intelligent, either - hadn't he proven his cleverness many times over? (Or actually, he'd proved it only to himself, since nobody but he and perhaps the victim of his pranks knew it was him. That was the bad thing about pranks, unfortunately - if you were caught, you weren't smart; if you weren't caught, you were, but nobody knew who you were.) No; when someone thought that you were constantly immature (and honestly, what fun was it acting stiff and solemn all the time?) you were treated like a five-Turn-old Weyrbrat. Don't try to think, you might hurt yourself - just let the adults settle it all. If you weren't so immature, you could be treated better. Oh, blah.

He shrugged noncommitally at Z'hin's suggestion. Maybe he was a mental screwup or something, but quite honestly he had little interest in women. They were just there. Maybe they could be good people to talk to, yes, and maybe he might go as far as not to be completely rude to them - but the bronzer wasn't the type of man to go around chasing them all the time. "I haven't," he admitted, a wry grin starting at the corner of his mouth. "I'll keep that in mind, though. I...thanks, I guess?" That would be the first time anybody decided to give him advice on his sex life. Neither he nor anybody else really cared about it that much...except perhaps Corinth, who didn't advise so much as tease.

Stupid was still very content on Z'hin's shoulder - or at least, as content as he could be on a shoulder. But the lack of response to his query about the man's pocket perked his curiosity. Did that mean something funny was in his pocket? Maybe something dangerous or something yummy like the food! The brown 'mandyr squeaked at Z'hin and skittered down his side, diving into his pocket with a little wriggle and a kick to propel himself all the way in, where he stuck his head back out with a purr, nipping Z'hin wherever he could - he couldn't be sure where his teeth connected. Human parts seemed to melt into one another, unlike dragons'; that wasn't his fault, was it? Whathere? he asked.

The brown Salamandyr cocked his head to one side. HisStupid was smart? The confusion that flashed through his mind was sensed by T'rid, who made a face at the Salamandyr. "I am not stupid, thanks," he informed the 'mandyr coldly. StupidMine smart? Nono. Stupid, quitestupid, Stupid answered thoughtfully after a moment. He pecked at Z'hin. Maulyes. Goodmaul, he agreed smugly. T'rid, meanwhile, raised both eyebrows at Z'hin, a slight grin flashing across his face. "Do I get to ask why you got punched the first time this sevenday, or is that private?" Amusing, amusing...

Oh, Faranth - he hadn't thought of that. T'rid grimaced. If Stupid ran after a green Salamandyr, he would be strangled. Especially if it resulted in anything with a male. Female, he might be all right with - that would be more like the normal effects of Flightlust, at any rate (not many males lingered around the Flightrooms waiting to be used as Flightmoths, after all). He did gag at the idea of Stupid chasing a green dragon, though. "If you encourage him to Chase dragons, I'll just glue him to you. You get your 'mandyr entertainment - and you get to be possibly dragged along the next time that Stupid Chases. Fair enough?" he asked, with mock cheerful tones again.

Stupid considered solemnly. His didn't like salamandyrs? - that wasn't true! His loved him. He just..didn't show it as much as some people did. But Stupid prefered it that way (or at least, that was what he told himself). He'd much rather be allowed to drown himself rather than be restrained, at least until T'ridhis could come to his rescue. The curses could always be stored away for later use, after all! Yes. His adored him. Kind of. Stupidmine jealous, he proclaimed with quiet delight at such comprehension. Yes, that was it; he was so clever for figuring it out, he was. Yes. Very good! "Jealous. Yeah, that's me." T'rid wrinkled his nose, sticking out his tongue at the exultant 'mandyr. "Hmm, yeah...personally, I'd rather stay a good five dragonlengths away from any of them, but apparently Corinth had other ideas." He was not going to forgive the bronze for tricking him when he was sleepy. That was underhanded and it wasn't like he didn't have Mir already.

[reqqy]

Figured. Z'hin had been fairly certain that was the case, though there was nothing quite like confirmation. Bronzeriders were always heterosexual - or, if bisexual, usually northern and usually just using sex as a means of dominance and control. Which meant it wasn't really sexual preference at all. So if a young bronzerider wasn't interested in women? He probably thought that Flightlust was what sex was. Z'hin could understand why that could be off-putting; he wasn't too fond of Flights himself. What was the point of a tryst if you couldn't really remember anything? He simply nodded to T'rid, figuring he'd probably thrown the kid off enough already without formulating an eloquent acceptance of the bronzerider's thanks.

He blinked at the sudden dive into his pocket, twitching slightly. Teeth. In his chest. Z'hin growled softly, seriously flirting with the idea of squishing the little creature. At least it wasn't his nipple. Then that would actually be a test of his self-control. "Not much, Stupid. If you don't stop biting, though, I won't show you what's in my other pocket." The brownrider proceeded to ignore the pricking teeth and smiled wryly at his companion. "Well...long story short? The Weyrleader and I have something of a personality conflict. He doesn't much appreciate sarcasm. And I'm pretty sure that there are some - other things - mixed up in that, but he's the one who gave me the black eye." Z'hin didn't mention Kale...who really had nothing to do with the shiner. Nor did he comment on his suspicions about Ka'rys's loyalties. It seemed to him that the man seemed overly sensistive about any information on Fort that was less than savory.

Like the fact that they were doing body augmentation, as evidenced by the cable system Z'hin wore for his half-crippled arm when fighting Thread - or fighting in the wars. Hard to miss the Weyrleader's skepticism in regard to that piece of information.

The brownrider couldn't help but laugh at T'rid's expression. This kid really didn't know how to just stand back and accept the inevitable, did he? How amusing. Salamandyrs chased - and ran - and, from what he could see, they were on a level with dragon Flights, or very close to it. He'd love to see the bronzerider try to worm his way out of these situations. Very much so. It would at least prove quite entertaining. "You honestly believe that a salamandyr could drag me around? Strange kid you are. I'd just let him run off with whatever piece of clothing he happened to be glued to. Can always replace a shirt." Z'hin wasn't laughing anymore, but his eyes made his amusement clear enough.

"Jealous of who?" he asked the 'mandyr with a soft chuckle. Were they all this communicative? Z'hin stuffed his hands deep into his trouser pockets, walking along the edge of the trees as if he didn't need the fading light at all to find his way, river or no river. The man definitely seemed in his element, out here. "Won't have to worry about that with Jessereth. The brute's more jealous than a weyrmate - or a young child. Crazy dragons, no?" The brown huffed from the nearby water, not deigning to reply to that.