Sexy Lady Needed ((open))

[Ruby]

Todmund had not intended to go to the Gather. He did not like gathers, he did not like noise, and he certainly did not like that many people in one place. Too bad when Carenath had found out that his did not plan to attend such a gathering of potential beauty, he had taken every single one of Todmund's styluses and dropped them in the river. The Weyr store rooms had plenty of styluses, but Todmund liked a specific type that you could only really get on order from the Harper Hall. Some ancient master made them in limited quantities, and they were the only styli that Todmund would work with. And where was the best place to get them, now? Harpers at the gather.

The legless Bronze was very proud of himself, and had demanded a full oiling before they had left this morning. A male Bluerider had given them a ride, which made Todmund incredibly uncomfortable, although certainly less than a female rider would have. Now he had stuffed the fire lizard into his pocket, trapping the creature in it with his hand. Carenath was struggling to get out, but Todmund had seen what he did when allowed to fly free: find a pretty woman and pretend his wing was broken, then lead her back to Todmund without any warning. Todmund had, of course, been unable to form complete sentences and had scurried off into the crowd, no doubt leaving the woman confused and probably offended.

As they approached the area where Harpers were relaxing, preparing for the music later that night, Todmund stopped and pulled Carenath out of his pocket. "You must behave yourself if I am going to let you go," he said, waiting for the Bronze to nod before releasing him. Carenath popped between almost immediately, and Todmund turned towards the Harpers. Little did he know that Carenath had reappeared just behind his back, inching along the ground with one wing cocked at a strange angle, looking for a likely female. Very few of these worms were good enough for His.

[neeuqtar]

I wish we had saved anything from High Reaches, Tiramnet sighed at her dragon. Nikeath snorted, lounging in the waves and hot sand of a nearby beach. Wild shipfish rolled in the waves near her, chattering in high-pitched noises. The dragon ignored them (mostly), letting the ocean surf splash against her hide while hers suffered in the heat. Heat for a dragon was joy, from the heat of the sun to the humid air that stirred heavily in her flier's lungs. Fire-lizards did not seem to take to the extreme heat as much, being fishers... but then, her Tralove's Tiny had come with her, to relax in the waves instead of stifling in the Southern heat.

It is as it it, Nikeath replied after a moment, watching as the miniscule green fire-lizard Hers had Impressed swam delightedly in the surf, hopping along the wet sand like a weasel before getting swept up in another wave. You can of course save marks on oil and simply use mine for the little one, Tramine,[/color] she said practically. Hers was altogether too worried -- hot, even in a rare (and borrowed) frock that fluttered in the wind and barely touched her legs or covered her shoulders. Tira's harried thoughts ran through the dragon's mind as the woman tried to figure out what to spend her few marks on.

A new longbow, battle arrowheads, contraceptive, a Threadfall calendar, some -food-, and oh, -arrows-...

You have some arrows left. Calm down and watch where you're going--

"Oh!" Tiramnet gasped, barely averting kicking a... fire-lizard? Perhaps a salamandyr, it was hardly as big as a blue fire-lizard... but it didn't have the right shape. The bronze creature had no legs and appeared to have a broken wing, dragging it around as it slithered. She crouched down, tucking a strand of hair which had sprung free from its knot behind her ear. Squinting at the beast -- yup, no legs -- she reached into her belt-pouch for a scrap of shredded wherry jerky.

"Shush, little beastie," she murmured at the bronze. "I've mended a few broken wings in my time." Tiramnet slowly extended her hand to the creature, holding out a piece of dried meat. If he was Impressed -- and he had to be, to be at a Gather and alive in all his legless, broke-winged glory -- then he shouldn't be fearful of her. In pain, yes; people-hating, no. Hopefully. Fire-lizard bites, while not dangerous, tended to be painful...

[Ruby]

Yesssss, she would do nicely. Carenath had spotted the dress first, liking the way it hung off the woman's shoulders, and the way she'd done her hair. Pretty, too, although it was hard to judge with her all the way up there and him all the way down here. She was older than His, and taller, but wasn't it a status symbol among Humans to have an older, taller mate? Certainly any Queen he tried to catch would be bigger than he was, and the bigger the better. More room for eggs. He inched towards the Greenrider, using a half-hopping motion to get closer, dropping his wing on the ground and creeeeeeeling for all he was worth.

And she almost stepped on him! Was he not cute enough, not shiny enough? Normally, Carenath would have been in a huff all day, but today, finding a Queen for His was more important. Especially after that shocking display with the first one. Didn't His know that Queens had to be wooed, presented with gifts, etc.? Apparently not. If this went poorly, Carenath would just have to force a shiny into Todmund's hand first. Queens loved shinies, in Carenath's limited experiance (or possibly Carenath loved shinies, and assumed anyone intelligent should like them too).

Raising an almighty whine, Carenath beat his 'good wing', only managing to move himself around to face his mark better. Oooo, she had wherry jerky. Good queen. And she was pretty down here, too. Because she was pretty, Carenath allowed the term 'beastie' to slip- he was no beast!- and grabbed a bit of the jerky before slithering up onto her wrist and curling there, resting the 'broken' wing along her forearm. Whenever he was not chewing, he whined again, turning huge, liquid eyes on the Queen. He'd done his part, now it was Todmund's turn.

Todmund had heard the first creel and had stopped short, his expression falling. Yes, Carenath was gone, but now that Todmund thought about it he could sense the little Bronze only a few paces behind. Oh no, it was happening again. Hopefully this time she would be less pretty, or something. Not that it would help. So he turned and ran back to where the Greenrider was, trying really, really hard not to look at her. "Apologies, milady," he said, reaching out for the lizard without lifting his eyes (unaware that it looked like he was focused on bosom). His tone and phrasing were archaic, enough to be noticebly odd, while his voice maintained the nasal quailty it always had. "He is dissembling, playing at some... child's game. Apologies again. If you will just hand him here..."

[neeuqtar]

The strange little creature seemed amenable both to the jerky and to being picked up, slithering onto her wrist and holding himself there very securely. Closer, it seemed he must be some sort of fire-lizard, albeit a very small and legless one. He certainly wasn't as she remembered the salamandyrs, nor was he some sort of tunnelsnake. Too intelligent and with wings boned exactly like a fire-lizard's. Gently, she ran her fingers down his broken-seeming wing, only to discover that it wasn't broken at all! Blinking in surprise -- perhaps he'd wrenched it? -- when a boy ran up to her.

The lad was a few inches shorter than her taller-than average height, and sounded both whiny and high-bred. From what she could see of his face, he seemed a normal-looking child; pale, like he spent most of his time indoors or in the dark. Perhaps he was some sort of wherhandler Candidate... his knots looked like they were assigned to the Weyr. Well, she hadn't been around much, and she spent most of her time building endurance with Nikeath and working outdoors. She was no lady, but he seemed no lord, either, staring at her chest as if he'd never seen a female creature. Or as if he was terrified to look up into her eyes.

"His wing certainly isn't broken, young sir," she replied, raising a brow. "But he does do a very convincing wing-drag. Is he a fire-lizard? I've never seen a bronze quite this small or... hmm... apodal." If the young man managed to drop his eyes even further, he'd see the second-level journeyman Beastcrafter knots attached to her sash, the colors (if he knew the Beastcraft specialties) marking her as one who focused on the draconid species. Giving the strange bronze a final bit of jerky, she held her arm out to the boy -- if he wanted his creature back, he'd have to peel him off her arm. Or the creature would have to slither over. A little cruel, perhaps, but Tira was irritated that the young person had left his creature in harm's way.

Nikeath, of course, was eavesdropping -- with enough interest that Tiny took note. With a moment's thought, the miniature green hopped up the dragon's leg, jumping off into between dripping with seawater to appear over Tiramnet. She chirped, eyes flaring orange at all the people, and knowing Hers would be irritated should the (now cold) wet fire-lizard land on her borrowed dress. Instead, she landed on Todmund, diving into his shirt. Her minething was talking to him, so he couldn't be all bad, right? She'd just dry off and then go over to Hers so she wouldn't have to touch another person-thing...

[Ruby]

Todmund was quickly reaching the point of dithering. His cheeks and the back of his neck flared a bright red, the rest of his visible skin washing out to pale, pale white. His wasn't quite trembling yet, but he was still staring at her chest. He finally realized it and shifted his gaze wildly, looking anywhere but at her. As she was talking, Todmund realized he had never actually looked at her, but if the last of Carenath's selections was anything to go by, this was a pretty calm reaction for the Candidate. And that dress. Only pretty women would feel confident in that dress. And she was taller than him. Oooo, Todmund could feel a case of the shakes coming on. It felt like he couldn't breathe.

With a concious effort, Todmund began mentally reciting the Harper Hall's line of Masterharpers and got himself under control while Carenath trilled and rubbed his head against the back of Tira's hand, looking up at her with his big, shiny eyes again. He liked her. Only seconds had passed (although it seemed like an eternity to Todmund), and Tira was still speaking. Sucking in a breath, Todmund fixed his eyes up over Tira's shoulder, gathering his wits for an answer.

Expecting pretty girls to only say things like 'Let's go buy clothes!' or 'Awww, so cute!' (clearly his experiance with women was vast), Todmund was shocked when intelligent things came out of Tira's mouth. He had noticed the knots, but hadn't thought about what they meant until now. She was a Journeyman, just like him. He had his Candidate's knots on today, but he'd worn a top of Harper blue, marking him as one of the Hall, but off-duty, making it clear that he would NOT be singing, thank you very much.

"Oh, certainly," Todmund said, surprised to find his mouth working. To give himself something to look at, he started removing Carenath from the woman's arm, trying to gently release the Bronze. Carenath wasn't convinced he wanted to go, yet. "He is simply faking. A quirk of personality, nothing I can do about it as far as I know. I've told him off, but he refuses to listen, and I can't force him to stay in my pocket at all times." Apparently, he had been so startled by Tiramnet's intelligence that he started to answer her before he realized he was talking. Now that he WAS talking, though, he figured he might as well not stop. "He was birthed by a Salamandyr, but his sire was a Firelizard. Several in his clutch were deformed in some way, but he seems to have no real trouble with his differance."

Todmund was about to launch into a list of empirical data he'd collected on Salamandyr/Firelizard pairings, but he was interrupted. Suddenly, something was in his shirt. Eyes widening, Todmund finally looked at Tira, hoping for some form of assistance. His mouth made an 'o' shape as the little creature squirmed, and he shivered all over, unable to form coherent sentences. So. Cold.

[neeuqtar]

The little bronze seemed disinclined to leave her hand, despite the boy's efforts to unwrap his naughty creature from her arm. His affectionate actions made her smile just a little bit, before she tucked away the expression. She didn't want to look like a soft-hearted woman -- not that many women these days could afford to be, particularly not dragonriders. Not with the constant spectre of war hanging over their heads, threatening at any moment to wrench away the few minutes of peace and delight which could be cherished... even those times spent in a dress and stretching marks to buy objects of war.

"They do tend to be disobedient when it serves their purpo-- Tiny!" Tiramnet cut herself off as she saw her sopping wet creature dive into the boy's shirt. The green flit slowly poked her nose out of Todmund's collar, looking as pitiful as a green firelizard could possibly manage. "Out! Now." The woman thrust out her arm, elbow bent as if she was going to link arms, her forearm parallel to the boy's chest. Looking crestfallen, the green flit slunk out of her hiding place to smush herself flat on Tira's arm, tail still in Todmund's shirt as she creeled piteously and looked up with wide eyes whirling blue and yellow.

Tira rolled her eyes, but held her arm up to her shoulder, shivering a little as the damp and cold firelizard curled around her neck, like some sort of living necklace. "You were supposed to stay with Nikeath," she muttered at the fire-lizard, who purred back, knowing she was back in Tira's graces. The greenrider had difficultly staying mad at Tiny.

"Forgive me," she said apologetically to Todmund. "She is usually quite well-behaved... I suppose she knew better than to do that to me." Tira sighed, shaking her head. "But please -- go on. You say he is out of a salamandyr by a fire-lizard? I confess I do not know as much of salamandyrs as I should," she said, gesturing vaguely to her knots with the arm that didn't hold the bronze fire-lizard. "Do such pairings happen at all commonly? I was under the impression that though salamandyrs are derived from fire-lizards, they were not at all fond of their cousins."

[Ruby]

Without closing his mouth all the way, Todmund plucked the tail out of his shirt, shivering again as it brushed against his chest. "No... it is.. fine, just fine. She is lovely," he said, still somewhat vacant. Todmund didn't handle surprises well. Shaking himself like a canine, he flattened the front of his shirt back down, squeezing vaguely at the wet patches as if he could actually remove the slight dampness Tiny had left there.

Once his shirt was taken care of, he had to grab at Carenath, who was trying to flutter over to Tiny, interested. The bronze chirped at her instead. She was no gold, but she was pretty, and small like he was. Would she like to be friends? Wrapping Carenath's tail firmly around his hand to he could hold on to it, Todmund kept his eyes on his bronze, but addressed Tiramnet again (he was more comfortable in her presence already, but certainly not comfortable enough to meet her eyes. "At least she's usually well-behaved. Carenath's goal seems to be about half the time."

Shifting his gaze to over Tira's shoulder, he moved Carenath to his upper arm where he curled like a strange armlet. "Yes, the pairings are uncommon as far as I know. In Carenath's case, his dam believed that she had mated with another salamandyr, a green, using a bronze firelizard belonging to the same person as a surrogate. A highly complicated situation, especially since the Gold salamandyr rejected all of the eggs that hatched Firelizards. Usually, the pairings are extremely rare."

With an extremely shifty look, Todmund pulled a paper out of his satchel. "I am... attempting to do a study of the salamandyr genesis, although clutch records are hard to come by. This is my preliminary plan for my research, along with my thesis. If you would like to take a look, I would be happy to have a Beastcrafter's perspective. I know a lot about history and geneaologies, but nothing about the peculiarities of the animal kingdom." He offered Tira the paper, expecting an outright rejection. Certainly she was too pretty to be interested in something so specific.

[neeuqtar]

Tiny was not oblivious to Carenath's interest. She perked her head up as Todmund wrapped the legless fire-lizard around his arm. The green trilled lightly, her voice lilting and sweet. Why, he was a little bronze! He was almost as small as she was! Delightful. It was enough to lift a little bit of her shyness, particularly in such a loud and busy place as the Gather was. And silly-Hers didn't even have a scarf for her to hide in. What did Tira expect, after all?

"Her training was an exercise of my craft," Tiramnet demurred. Though a green, Tiny was trained to carry messages, drop bits of trash between, as well as in all the niceties one would train any pet in -- sit, stay, come... even though she was not always completely obedient. "That does sound complicated. I know something similar happens sometimes with dragon Flights. It's called 'stand-ins', where the rider who's female is Rising will choose a different human mate than the one paired with her dragon's mate." She knew all about that -- it had happened to her a few times, though never on purpose.

Tira noticeably brightened when Todmund pulled out his sheet of paper -- not that she hadn't been engaged before, but her ability to practice her craft lately had been constrained to hunting for Nikeath and defending from wild whers and particularly vicious wherries in the mountains. No more! Now she was back in a Weyr (one which wouldn't drug her to bind her to them), with at least one person of similar interests. Maybe she'd even try to get herself one of there salamandyrs... even if they were rather troublesome. Firsthand experience was always the best.

"Your thesis?" Tiramnet asked, reaching out and taking the paper without showing her rising glee. She never liked to appear overly excited about anything, even things she was deeply interested. "You must be going for second-level journeyman then, no? I didn't have to work on a thesis until I tried for second-level -- I did mine on complex wing fracture injuries," she added absently as she skimmed through the paper. "I can tell you a lot about fire-lizard mating habits -- some of it firsthand," she murmured. "Have you thought about interviewing people who have salamandyrs who pair with fire-lizards?" Tira asked, looking up from the paper.

[Ruby]

Todmund was reaching the end of his ability to handle this conversation. Tira was waaay too pretty to be spending so much time with someone as odd as he was (yes, Todmund was fully aware that he was odd), and she certainly had more important things to do than talk to some Journeyman. Not to mention that Todmund was fully convinced that some sort of dramatic screw-up was only moments away; the kind of thing that would scare her away forever. For now, though, he let his mouth keep rambling on, and try to extricate himself before anything went too badly awry.

So far so good, however. Instead of scoffing at his work, she seemed interested. Interested? Really? No one was interested in harpers that couldn't sing, at least at the Harper Hall. Maybe he should have been a Beastcrafter. "I suppose it could be similar for Salamandyrs. There have been documented cases of homosexuality among the creatures, but as Carenath's dam was a Gold, my suspicion is that it was in her nature to produce offspring no matter her personal choice."

As if to confirm Todmund's suspicions, Carenath chirped, although he was far more interested in Tiny than Todmund. Yes yes, she would do - claimed. That made three Greens in his entourage (Tiny, Reina, and Shrew, unless he was missing someone), not bad as far as Carenath was concerned. The more the better, of course, but he'd only been alive so long. Todmund worked a finger up inside Carenath's tightening coils, trying to keep the Bronze from cutting off circulation to his arm.

"Oh no," was Todmund's response to her question about his status. "I was made a second-level Journeyman just before they sent me on my original posting to Igen. I was one of the youngest Journeymen ever, I believe. I suppose, technically, I am still working towards my Mastery, but as I accepted a position as Candidate, I am really just doing this for fun." It was true, too. Todmund was... kind of odd, but at least this time his oddity seemed to be working for him. "Interviews are an excellent idea, but, ah... well. People who are still alive aren't exactly my specialty." Was that... dry humor? No, Todmund was being 100% serious. "I fear it would not provide the kind of information I would need. Perhaps a written questionnaire..." Todmund turned his eyes to the sky, muttering to himself for a moment. That might work, after all.

[neeuqtar]

"Impressive," Tiramnet replied, lifting her brows as she handed the paper back. He looked young to be a first-level journeyman, let alone a second-level. Particularly based on the research he was doing. Tira had no doubt he was a bright young man; only a genius would be at a level that took most people a decade to achieve. And only someone who truly loved his work would compose a research thesis simply for fun. What did Candidates do these days? Impressive indeed, that he worked as a second-level journeyman while being a Candidate. She had barely achieved her second-level status before Impression, and she had been considered quite young to have it herself.

Tiny crooned at Carenath. She did not usually like bronzes much -- they were so bossy and BIG! -- but this one seemed nice. There was no harm in being small, and his sinuous curves were so interesting! Unlike most firelizards, Tiny had no issue with salamandyrs. She liked small mates, and usually picked tiny blues. She wasn't one to desire being engulfed by a male twice her size!

"You could always try talking to the salamandyrs," Tira said with a feral grin. "Though I hear they are quite difficult to converse with intelligently." Tiny chirped at her, an almost scolding sound. It was humans who were hard to talk to intelligently!! "But. You will have to let me read your thesis when you complete it," she added. "It is quite an interesting topic, and one I had wished for the time to research myself. I am fascinated by the salamandyr race."

[Ruby]

Todmund gaped like a fish, trying to process this new turn of events. She was interested in his thesis, wanted to read it? Only his dusty old Master Zedd at the Hall had ever acutally read Todmund's work after he'd become a Journeyman, with the exception of practical pieces like tithe records and storeroom inventories. His work was largely theoretical and often dry to the uneducated readerand while Tira seemed smart enough... well. It might not be anywhere near as exciting as she was expecting.

Carenath, of course, was thrilled- he'd found a Queen for His, and so far she had passed muster admirably, and she had a female for his entourage. All to the good. Unfortunately for the Bronze, His was about to fail miserably.

Too nervous to handle this anymore, Todmund couldn't keep himself from stuttering, trying to get sensible words out. "I- well- you- thesis- Um." Yes, that made sense. "I, uh, believe I must leave, now. I have an appointment with a master I simply must make..." he said, holding a thumb up to the intense sun as if it were close enough to the horizon to measure time by it. Being just after noon, it clearly wasn't. "I'll uh... send a copy your direction when I complete my research, perhaps you will be able to fact-check my sections on Firelizard and Salamandyr psychology. I would appreciate a Beastcrafter's insight in the footnotes, or perhaps as a quote. I'll... um. Yes. I really must go."

And with that, he spun on his heel, almost running in the opposite direction (and not really towards the Harpercraft stall). Carenath squawked in indignation, flapping his wings and straining back towards Tiramnet, trying to pull his human back in her direction. Nearly ten feet away, Todmund realized something important- he didn't know her name. Turning back, his fce bright red, he raised his voice to cover the distance seperating them, informing half the gather, "I am Todmund, by the way." He'd get her name somewhere else, he figured, and turned away again, hurrying off into the crowd.

[neeuqtar]

Tira, of course, had noticed how flustered the harper was getting, but she didn't mind. He seemed a reclusive type, and talking about his thesis before it was written was probably troubling for him. It had certainly been troubling for her, particularly when she was in a panic over research and putting together field notes with dissection studies and theory. She simply nodded at Todmund's babbling -- hopefully he would send her a copy of his thesis to read, or even edit. It sounded fascinating.

As he fled, Tiramnet suppressed a smile at the boy's shyness. She had never been shy, but it was kind of... adorable. She barely caught his name, and as he turned to blend with the crowd she cupped her hands around her mouth and called back, "Tira of Nikeath!" Hopefully he heard.

Well, that was exciting, Tiramnet said to Nikeath as she searched the stalls for the weaponcraft stall once more.

Indeed, Nikeath purred back, as waves rolled up over her hide. Tide was coming in. Perhaps you've made a friend.