The Sound of a Fight [Rei]

[Sheari]

The closest the southern continent got to a Northern winter was cold temperatures and cold rain; and frost. The small shower that just passed Burimyu had left enough dampness to make the ground soft but not overly much. The cold air left behind had R'men bundled up in a worn jacket, his breath coming in small plumes. It would warm up by mid-day but for now he would trek through the woodland surrounding the weyr.

The peace was enough to make him calm as he walked without aim. For a moment he forgot the stress of this new life. The concerns of when and where they could travel. Sure the greens could move with less worry, but something large and shiney like Weith would be harder to hide. R'men had never understood the "sore thumb" analogy, but it was the best way to describe it. How long before this life became habit? Would habits learned here transfer to life back at Sel? So much for a calm, peaceful thoughts brought on by the morning.

Unexpectedly the bronze rider noticed that he had reached the small clearing the most o the more fighter-like riders used to keep their battle skills sharp. Afterall, if they were to take back the weyr, they'd have to fight for it, right? The rain had soffened the top soil into undisturbed mud. With that thought it mind, R'men grabbed a nearby stick roughly the length of his arm. He began swinging it around in a fit, chopping down into the earth and then swinging quickly up. Swing back, swoop forward; he began attacking a tree, beating the stick against it in all the places he could think of that would be vital locations. He used his own height for a model. He truck twice along the "belly" of the forest sentinel, before putting all of his strength behind a strike to it's "neck", breaking the stick near the middle while the end flew off.

You need a new stick,[/i] commented weith as he lounged nearby. "Its not just a stick, it was my sword. Well, then it seems you need a new /sword/.[/i] "Indeed," responded the man before he began his hunt near the muddy dirt patch.

[Rei]

Cr’oph had been up since early morning. It was less a desire to stay awake then the fact that he couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t slept much for weeks actually. Not since Jiggles had been killed by one of those flying monsters everyone was falling in love with. Even his own brother had one of the disgusting creatures now. Mavenath was worried about his rider. Enough that the normal sarcastic exchanges and insults had toned down to pretty much nothing. Even now the large bronze was as close to Cr’oph as possible, wound about a couple trees, calm whirling eyes watching as Weith and his rider made their way ever closer. The large male made no move to greet them yet. He had not been spotted from his crammed position amongst the foliage so he choose to quietly watch instead of blow his cover right away. He did however lightly brush against this rider’s mind with the knowledge.

The red head didn’t move from where he was leaning against his dragon immediately. Instead he watched R’men curiously with tired eyes. Eyes that where strangely absent of the kohl that normally ringed them. Cr’oph just didn’t feel like putting forth the extra effort to try currently. Just what in Faranth’s name was the other bronzer doing? Was that a stick? Silently he watched as his fellow bronzerider proceed to beat the tree with a significant amount of force. For one the guy’s stance was all off. For two his swings where way to wild to be effective. Perhaps you should help him? It was a very subtle mental prod but the amount of worry behind it was what made Cr’oph start towards R’men. Mave acting worried was just…weird.

The bronzer didn’t normally spar here with the others. He preferred to mock battle only with M’kai. He did however come on the occasion to watch some of the others, so the terrain was at the very least familiar. As Cr’oph got closer to the other rider he cleared his throat. “Hey. What did the tree ever do to you R’men? If you’re pretending it was an enemy you gave him far too many chances to run you through.” For a moment he watched the other rout around near the ground with a frown. “What are you doing now?”

With a rumble of draconic laughter Mavenath emerged from the trees and approached Weith with a soft croon of greeting. Good morning Weith. I trust the day's beginning finds you well? You will have to tell yours to excuse mine. He has been off since the Jiggles met his most unfortunate end. It is a poor excuse to forget a greeting but I assure you mine is not trying to insult yours. How do you know that? Shush Crymine and pay attention to your half of the conversation. Turning back to the older bronze he dipped his head. Do you mind company? Oh Mavenath could just have parked himself next to Weith but he was very careful not to offend. You never knew when someone could come in handy after all. Much better to be socially proper. After all he had never had a problem with the other bronze.

[Sheari]

"Oh, this tree?" R'men smiled sheepishly at the man. "It uh...looked at me wrong," he responded before returning to his search. Too short, too short. He grabbed a stick and swung it before discarding it to the side. Too long. Was it really so hard to find one that felt right? Considering his search, yeah, it probably was. "My other one broke," he declared, absently gesturing to the pieces on the ground. How ridiculous it seemed, that he would quest for such an item to be prefect. Finally he spied one that loked almost identical to the first. It was even missing bark in a spot for his hand! Grasping it firmly he turned and swung experimentally. Perfect! "As for anything else, I'm just having fun. It feels good to loosen up, even if what you're doing is all wrong," because he'd never seen any of the others sword fight.

R'men had always observed the other "refugees" use short blades like dirks and daggers, even knives. The Selenitas fighters seemed for like rogues than warriors. Afterall, when was the last time he'd seen any of them walk around with a sword strapped to their side? The word "never" came to mind but he was certain there was at least one. "Care to join me?" he asked casually, expression and demeanor carefree.

Good morning Mavenath, it does indeed.[/i] The elder bronze responded politely. It is fine, pity though that the creature has been lost. A Salamandyr was he, right? I've been told those have quite the connection.[/i] Weith made himself a mental note to not urge one of them upon His, as well as passing along Mavenath's message. No, I don't mind company at all.[/i] Weith nodded to a spot near him. No, he didn't mind the other dragons approaching him. The bronze turned his eyes back to R'men and Cr'oph momentarily. I do not mean to pry, but may I ask how Jiggles met his demise?[/i] He asked carefully.

[Rei]

Cr’oph raised one eyebrow as R’men continued to crawl around on the ground. Looked at him wrong….okaaaaaaay. He is just joking. Loosen up and try to be helpful will you? Blinking at his dragon the red head then shot the large shiny beast a glare. Yeah I knew that. Returning his gaze to the other bronzer, who was still on his knees routing through the mud, Cr’oph gave a light shrug and cast his eyes about as well. Yeah it was an amusing picture two bronzerider’s searching the muddy training grounds for sticks. “Well damn it all for giving you a glare. Trees are bad for that. Standing there all mocking like. Make’s you want to chop them down just to be like. What now huh? That’s right you lose. Yeah I can understand the sentiment.” The man’s voice was just light enough to not be considered too terribly mocking. Really he was trying hard to make a joke but whether R’men understood it or not the red head wasn’t sure.

Mavenath had to resist the urge to hide his head beneath a wing. Really? Ah well at least he was trying to be social. That was improvement right? Maybe? It would have to count as that the bronze supposed. Turning his attention back to Weith he gave a soft rumble the sound resonating in his chest. Yes unfortunately they do have quite the connection. I think mine would have been lost had be not worked on distancing himself somewhat from the creature. It has left him feeling very hollow. But he is doing better than he was. Yes at least now the bronze could prod him out of bed. And at least he was talking to people beside his egg twin again. Settling himself beside the older bronze Mavenath gave a soft croon. It was quite tragic really. He was pulled apart before us by one of those predatory avians that seem to survive in mass quantities here. Terrible thing really. Cr’oph tried to kill it but it fled back to Ioth’s rider. Apparently it belongs to her. It was… quite terrible for mine to deal with I am afraid. Not to mention that Ioth’s had been less than apologetic about it.

Tail flicking the bronze turned his attention back to the riders. I hope at the very least mine does not offend yours with word choice. He doesn’t always think before he opens his mouth and I’m afraid lately he has been worse about it. With a brief nudge at the other male’s shoulder he flicked his head back towards the riders. So it seems mine might be willing to play with yours. I believe bets are in order? Mavenath’s tone was amused and playful. Who’s rider will prove to be more of a failure my brother? Yours or mine? The dragon was betting on Cr’oph but eh he could be surprised. Maybe…Possibly.

When R’men finally found his ‘weapon’ and brandished it Cr’oph tilted his head. Inwardly the bronzer’s mind turned over the odd meeting before he gave the equivalent of a mental shrug. What the hell. Why not? Eyes roving over the ground he located a promising stick and brandished it at his fellow bronzer. The barest twitch of a smile flicked the corner of one lip upwards. It vaguely reminded him of a long time ago sparing with his brother as kids. “Join you? Well since the tree seems to be currently unable to match wits with you I’ll glad take it’s place.”

Adjusting his grip on the branch he dropped into a crouch and then gestured to R’men with one hand. The message was pretty clear actually. Bring it on. At the very least it was better than standing around staring at mud right?

[Sheari]

R'men chose to ignore the statement, or at least the tone. It was clear to him that Cr'oph was trying to loosen up. "Chop them down! Hah!" the bronzer cried as he swung his stick at the tree, stopping just short so it wouldn't break like the other.

With an awkward leap, R'men lunged at the man, stick brandished. What he was going to do with it didn't seem to form entirely in his mind and the result was an equally awkward sweep down and to the side before he jumped away. Terrible? Yes. Would he already bee dead if this was real? More than likely. Did he care? No. This was for fun, and he saw that the other man obviously needed something to amuse him, to wake him up. The mud was slick but his boots weren't covered enough on the bottom to make footing and balance an issue...yet. The idea of it though, didn't really cross his mind, either.

It is good then, that he is doing better.[/i] Weith shifted himself slightly to be more comfortable. I feel sort of bad now, however. It is good between me and Mine, but I get curious about the pets that others have. The fire lizards are like tiny versions of us and I like them.[/i] Selected. He would insist on His going to the next fire lizard hatching. Salamandyrs were loud and annoying, and the avians ate them both. Ioth called out when a clutch of them hatched and I insisted that Mine go. Nothing came of it but I didn't know they did that.[/i] Afterall, the one sold at Gathers didn't.

The change of topic wasn't unwanted and was even more comfortable. Not to worry, he isn't easily offended.[/i] Because, afterall, R'men's easy-going demeanor was hardly dampened...unless Weith was having a bad day. Bets are indeed in order! I don't know much about Yours, but Mine has quite the fail about him. A herdbeast then? I am confident in R'men losing.[/i] Because, afterall, wasn't that what mindmates were for? Undying confidence and support?

[Rei]

Cr’oph actually managed a weak chuckle as R’men feinted again at the tree. What was with this kid? Enthusiastic at least, even if he was a little weird. He took the other bronzer’s lunge in stride taking a step back and swinging his own stick upwards to knock the blow aside before he surges forward striking at R’men’s midsection with decent force. The tall red head knew the kid really didn’t have a clue what he was doing and he strangely found that he didn’t care to humiliate him. Which was just as surprising for Cr’oph to admit as it was for Mavenath to learn. The other bronzer was a fellow exile right? That meant that he needed to learn this kind of stuff. Humiliation never helped. Okay with some people it did but again this wasn’t about humiliation.

Thus the young man made it painfully obvious what his reaction would be leaving plenty of room and time for the kid to counter or parry his attack. If they where going to do this might as well use it as a lesson of sorts. With a grin the bronzer spoke. “For one that was way too low, for two the side sweep didn’t have enough power behind it. You should press like this.” With that Cr’oph danced forward making quick and light jabs at R’men with the intent to capture his attention before doing for a solid strike to his opponents side. Let’s see what he did with that.

Mavenath rumbled softly to his companion. You need not feel bad Weith my brother. How would you get information if you did not request it? The bronze lifted his shoulders in a visible shrug of wings. They are predators. They need to eat just like you or I do. Perhaps they may be taught not to hunt such things. However wild is wild my dear brother. To them a tame mandyr or firelizard is merely easy prey like herdbeasts in a pen. Did Mavenath blame the avian that ate the Jiggles? Not really, he just disliked the aftereffects on his. Nothing could be done about it now however so it was best not to press for revenge. However badly he had wanted to at the time. The desire had since died.

Ah here then a better topic. The large bronze gave a rumbling laugh his maw parting in a draconic grin. Then we shall bet against our own riders. What perfect examples of love and dedication we are. Eyes whirling in happy and amused shades he turned his attention back to the two sparing riders. A herdbeast it is. May lady luck treat you well my brother. It was all in good fun after all and Mavenath didn’t have much of a completive streak so win or lose he didn’t mind. Besides he had just recently eaten, although he could certainly eat again having eaten lightly, he didn’t mind hunting for Weith at all if it came down to it. Hmm the footling looks precarious. Would be terrible if one tripped no? His tone however made it clear that he was hoping one of them did. Muddy bronzers. How amusing.

[Sheari]

A chuckle! Success! It was short lived, however, due to the man's quick response. R'men's swing was deflected, but he expected that, and soon his abdomen felt the force of the other bronzerider's stick. The muscles there contracted reflexively to protect the organs beneath as well as to protect themselves. His arm swung at the opening, though, parrying the attack to make the muscular reaction in his midsection just a reflex. It felt good to get even a little bit of progress in. Small steps, you always began with small steps.

"I figured as much," R'men responded, jumping back a bit to dodge the jabs. He tried to follow them and he felt he did pretty well, until he felt wood against his side. Just like earlier, his muscles contracted and he dodged, however he still felt the end of the "weapon" against his flesh. It followed its path and the bronzer swung down on the wrist holding it. He moved to the side as he made the attack, in case Cr'oph swung back the same way. It certainly made sense to him to swing back at the potentially fleeing oponent.

A good explanation. Indeed! May the generations after us look up to us as role models![/i] Perhaps they could write the metaphorical book on Tips and Tricks on How to Support One's Rider. Tip One: bet against him when he duels your brother's bonded! One herdbeast is the minimum bet. It would be a pity for one to fall.[/i]

Tip Two: make it so that they duel in a mud patch and conspire to possibly trip one.

A deep rumble rolled from Weith's chest in a draconic laugh. It was pathetic how poor of a fighter His was, but with dragons it seemed inborne how to fight. He had his teeth and claws; and in extreme cases, potentialy his flame. Poor humans had such soft, pliable claws...if they could be called that, and such useless teeth. They had to be taught to fight and he was glad that His was learning from someone who wasn't actively trying to kill him and was willing to teach him a bit.

[Rei]

Cr’oph actually gave his opponent a light smile. Well, well. R’men was seeming to pick up on it a bit. That was good. Encouraging really. It was nice when you offered advice and they actually took it. The other bronzer kept his attacks light, purposely lessening the force when he knew one would hit. He didn’t want to hurt his opponent after all. Didn’t matter if the hits stung a little. Pain was a good teacher. But the red head didn’t want to bruise the other. That just wasn’t what he wanted. Yes the improvements where small but they where still there. Surprisingly Cr’oph was finding himself being drawn out of his depression little by little. With each swing of his ‘practice sword’. The simple exercise was actually surprisingly fun. Even if R’men was obviously outmatched. It didn’t matter. The other young man was obviously having fun too.

The tall bronzer was actually a little impressed at the way R’men managed to avoid most of his blows. Not bad. Not bad at all. He even got a return on in there even if it was easily deflected. “Nice job. You need to protect your midsection better though. If you have no other choice use less vital areas to absorb the attack instead.” He spouted off advice as it came to mind. Boots sliding through the mud as he further advanced on his opened. “Good. Yes like that. Exactly.” With another series of blows Cr’oph suddenly danced backwards. “Now you come at me.”

Mavenath was amused at Weith’s enthusiasm and extremely glad for R’men at the moment. It was helping his a great deal. This silly contest of waving sticks. With a rumbling laugh his tail smacked the ground. Indeed. All future generations should be in awe of our complete mastery. The words where offered in complete jest. The large bronze’s eyes whiling in bright amusement. Yes such a pity. It's such lovely mud. The male was extremely happy with the current way things where working out. Bright whirling eyes watched the two battling riders. Well look at that. Yours is doing much better now. It seemed as if his wasn’t such a total fail after all. Who would have guessed that his could teach? He still wanted to see one of them trip though….

[Sheari]

It was complicated, this dancing game. R'men had seen other people do it; more skilled people than he, do it, and it always looked so easy. How wrong he'd been! Cr'oph's weapon seemed to hit him more times than not, however he was dodging more, the longer they swatted at each other. The positive reinforcement helped him along, helped him learn.

When the other bronze rider was on the defensive R'men went at him, trying to mimic some of his swings. He concentrated on moving his stick quickly, and to places that looked unprotected. It was a challenge, being outmatched, but it was a fun one. The mud now coated his boots in a devious slime, but he improved his stance, placing his feet a little wider. R'men swung low before cutting back in an upward arc near Cr'oph's face. So caught up in trying to hit the other man that he failed to realize his bit of carelessness. He stepped forward to get closer but his boot slipped. In an action to balance himself, R'men moved his other foot behind him, bending backward awkwardly, exposing himself. With a grunt he swung himself forward, bringing the stick down in an easily parried strike.

That was close. Oh, so perilously close.[/i] Weith commented, childish excitement in his voice. A tiny lace of disappointment wound through. It seems you spoke too soon! Mine is clueless when it comes to fighting.[/i] A tang of regret was there. It was almost shameful for a dragon to have such a defenseless rider. Perhaps he could try lashing out at his to see how well he was. Weith lowered his head to see on a level close to the sparing humans. It amused him how they fought. If I sigh hard enough...[/i] he directed toward Mavenath, leaving the sentence open. Perhaps they could assist the circumstances...

Trick One: A breath can go either way...

[Rei]

Cr’oph danced back, using his own stick to parry and deflect some of R’men’s blows. The other managed to get past his defenses a few times but it was easy enough to avoid the thrusts. The bronzer had been doing this close to his entire life after all. Sparring was something he’d grown up doing. Something that was actually fun. He normally only did it mostly with M’kai though. Trouble with that is the brothers had grown so good at reading each other that it was almost a bit ineffective. Sure they perfected strokes and such things and it looked flawless to passerby maybe. But well no one was perfect. To help the other man along Cr’oph let him complete a few glancing blows. Simply to encourage him then he really started parrying and dodging the air filling with the sound of wood striking against wood as he came at R’men again.

The footing was growing more treacherous with each strike and step. The awkward sweep near his face had him dancing back as R’men slipped and then strove to regain his footing. Surging forward Cr’oph struck for the other bronzer’s exposed torso just as the man brought the stick down to block. Parrying it the tall red head pressed forward again seeking to press his advantage and end the match.

Mavenath watched this all with careful interest. Most of the bronze’s concentration going to the feet of the sparing pair. He could tell from the way Cr’oph was moving getting more serious that the bronzer wanted to end the fight. Hopefully on a good note. Well that wasn’t very fair. Neither of the pair had ate dirt yet. The large bronze was amused by his companion’s tone. Weith seemed a touch unsatisfied as well. Well they would have to fix this then. Indeed. Perhaps a small amount of wind? Just a tad bit of displacement to sway balance? As the male spoke he opened one wing giving it a very slow flap to demonstrate eyes whirling in amused shades. The wind from their wings should be suitable enough to knock the riders to their butts in a tangle of human and flailing stick. It was worth a try? On the count of three brother? One, Two, Three. Giving his wing one of two large flaps, in the direction of the rider pair, he tilted his head to survey the damage results.

(Feel free to complete R’men and Cr’oph crashing together in a tangled mess xD)

[Sheari]

Mavenath's suggestion was met with optimism. Indeed! On the bronze's count, Weith opened his wings and stirred the air. The buffets were gentle for the large dragon, after all the idea was to tip them over, not blow them away! The power used was not enough to lift Weith, but he raised his upper body to allow himself more room. Lifting and folding his wings, Weith settled back down, looking with whirling eyes at the havoc he and Mavenath and wrought.

With a quick parry R'men took a step to the side. The barely noticed at first, the bronzes at his back, the reason why the wind suddenly picked up. Concentrating on the spar he had with Cr'oph he didn't realize the plotting going on. A gust caught him and he stumbled a bit, falling forward. In an attempt to save himself from the mud beneath his feet he ducked and tried to stop himself with the stick. The tip drove into the ground a few inches before the stress proved to be too much and it broke. The jagged tip bounced on the ground as R'men failed to stop his fall. Crashing forward he tumbled onto the Cr'oph, muddy boots coming out from beneath him as his clothes took their turn in the slick substance.

I believe we are successful and that our work here is done, Mavenath,[/i] came Weith's cheerful comment. His eyes whirled a quick, cheery blue. He was pleased to see His fall. He watched in amusement as one man crashed into the other, quickly becoming a heap of tangled arms and legs, mud effectively covering their clothes. Earlier, the patch had been a semi-dry section of earth, but with the efforts of the men and the settling morning mist it had turned into a concoction of very sticky mud. Mission accomplished! I almost wonder how angry with us they will be...[/i] Weith half-thought. He wouldn't mind it if R'men was cross with him, this was too amusing for that to really matter.

[Rei]

Normally Cr’oph would have been all over whatever chaos Mavenath had sought to stir up. But the sparing and teaching besides had the bronzer more than thoroughly distracted. Which had been the goal anyway right? To forget. To loosen up. The buffet of wing caught him off guard and he had just started to try and set his feet in the slick mud when R’men bowled into him. With a few loud curses he found himself pinned in a tangle of arms and legs. Well damn. Blinking at his muddy opponent though mud drenched hair Cr’oph silently fumed for a few moments. Propping himself up on elbows and getting a better look at his filthy clothes and fellow bronze though the anger kind of fizzled out. Instead he started to laugh clapping R’men on the shoulder in a rare display of humor. “Damn dragons.”

Leaning closer to his sparing partner he waited till the dragons had their attention on one another and then murmured. “What do you say to a little payback?” Hefting a glob of mud he half tossed it and motioned towards the bronzes carefully untangling himself from R’men. ‘Shiny bastards could use some dirt too don’t you think?” With a wink he edged around towards the trees, mud in hand, and stalked carefully towards the large males. The mud coating on his clothes providing decent camouflage as he quietly started to block Mavenath out.

Mavenath inwardly preened at the mess they had created. Tossing his head like a proud runner might he responded cheerfully to Weith. Indeed much success my brother. They are quite the mess. Eyes whirling in matching cheerful blue he rumbled and turned his head towards the other bronze to but it companionably against the older male’s shoulder. The gesture similar to that of a human high five. Snorting he rumbled is amusement at the next words. Oh even if they are angry what could they possibly do about it? Smug bronze was smug.

“Hey Mavey! Think fast!” Cr’oph yelled as slightly startled the dragon turned his head right into the mud missile, the wet dirt splattering across his muzzle. “In your face!” Mavenath blinked and turned to eye Weith. What indeed.

[Sheari]

Ha! He smiled! R'men loved to make people laugh and have fun and this success with what appeared to be a bit of a "down" man made the cold mud soaking through his clothes worthwhile. "Feisty critters," he smiled. "Certainly could use some mud of their own," R'men feigned having to shield his eyes from the shine of the bronzes. Grabbing his own glob he got up and went to the other side of the dragons. He followed Cr'oph's lead but waited until the dragons had their attention on the other man. He saw Weith turn his head and seized the opportunity.

The glob flew and landed on the elder bronze's cheek, just below his eye. The eye "rolled" to look at R'men before he snorted. Look Mave! I have a beauty mark!"[/i] He jested, turning his head to show. When he was certain that it'd been seen, Weith lowered his head to rub the mud off on his companion. I thank you for being of convenience to me, brother,[/i] he jested as the mud rubbed off. What? According to the humans, this stuff was exfoliating...whatever that meant. R'men had said that women used it and that it was good for the skin.

In a bit of retaliation, Weith reached down and gingerly picked up R'men by his clothes. He lifted the man (who protested and kicked his legs to no avail) and dangled him there. R'men's shirt bunched u[ under his arms and his collar choked him a little but he tore out the hem to loosen it after a little struggling to reach his hand there. "Set me down, Weith!" he yelled. He might have been angry but even he found this funny. "A little help?" he called out to Cr'oph. What shall I do with him?[/i] the bronze wondered aloud. So many thoughts, so many ideas!

[Rei]

Ah and quite a dashing mark it is. Mavenath gave in friendly return to his bronze counterpart. When Weith dipped his head to rub the mud on his shoulder the large bronze rumbled in amusement. He immediately returned the favor, rubbing the mud that had splattered across his muzzle on his fellow dragon’s neck. And I thank you as well brother. He responded in equal measure, mind voice still amused. For a few moments Mavenath actually debated starting a mud fight with Weith but well, the bronze rather didn’t feel like listening to Cr’oph complain the entire time he was bathing him. He would rather listen to the man complain about having to bathe himself. It didn’t take as long.

Eyes whirling in bright blue shades Mavenath watched R’men kick and struggle as Weith lifted him. Yelling rider’s were always extremely amusing. One large eye regarded Cr’oph with curiosity. Would you like a lift as well Crymine? “Hell no.” The red head responded before shifting closer to Weith and so out of Mavenath’s range. The bronzer debated as R’men called for help. Hmm. Well it really wasn’t that hard of a fix. Moving closer he judged the distance before shouting out a bit of advice. “Slip out of the shirt and tuck and roll before you hit the ground. You should be okay if you do that. Here I’ll help.” He responded cheerfully before picking up a large glob of mud and flinging it at Weith’s head.

Mavenath rumbled in draconic laughter. It was rather amusing to watch the two small humans trying so hard. Oh I don’t know Weith. Yours looks like he could use a bath. But I’d do it quickly before he gets away. Having said that the large bronze rocked to his feet and lowering his head started in Cr’oph’s direction. I know of a large pool nearby where we can play skip the bronzer like the humans play skip the stones.

“Oh no you don’t!” Cr'oph yelled at his advancing dragon before proceeding to try and pummel his dragon with clumps of mud. “Get away from me you huge brute!”