Approaching unheralded Stranger

[dragon]

Green Aonith began to slow in her flight as the first signs of habitation started to appear in her vision. She could see the Drum Heights, and a few other features that stuck up above the tropical forest features. Her travel had been a long one, and she was tiring. Dorava sat silent astride her, not yet able to see the structures peeking over the lush treetops.

But she did feel the slowing in pace. What is it, Aonith? she asked in silence, after a moment, when the dragon started to merely coast through the air.

We are near the Weyr we set out to find. I don’t want to scare them into thinking we are attacking. Aonith stretched her tired wings out far, letting herself hang from them at the moment, merely riding on her previous momentum that continued to carry her inexorably closer to the Weyr ahead.

Dorava’s skin went cold, then. This was it. This was the moment. The moment she had deliberately not thought about. Now was the moment of reckoning. Would they find a weyr willing to accept them, or would they be driven out of the skies. Or worse yet, back to Benden?

It had taken them a full week to fly straight from Benden to Selenitas, and Dorava had no intention of taking her dragon or herself back into that hellhole. Dorava hoped that they would let her stay … surely this weyr had to be better than Benden … anything would be better than Benden!

But she was well aware of the previous hostilities between the two weyrs, and she fully expected to be thought a spy or worse. They probably would subject her to some pretty rigorous scrutiny, if not locking her up outright. But … she reminded herself again … that was better than Benden.

Take it slow and easy, love. Let’s not alarm them. Maybe we ought to circle a bit, and let them see us clearly? Dorava asked, her hands wrapping around the straps that held her on her dragon. The nervousness she was feeling was showing in the skin of her hands, as her knuckles turned white. Under her heavy flight jacket, she was sweating despite the chill of the late afternoon high-altitude air that was washing over it. And she had gooseflesh, too…

We are not close enough yet, mine. If we start that now, they will think we are up to something underhanded. Aonith took a few more wing beats, giving more energy to her flight. She poured enough of her remaining energy into the effort to gain some altitude … the last thing she needed to do was start circling down low to the treetops.

Dorava sucked in a breath, making herself breathe. She was scared. There was no doubt about it. But they had come this far … she wasn’t going to turn tail and run now. Between, love. Don’t exert yourself so.

Aonith obligingly made a short hop between, reappearing several hundred feet higher in the sky, a little closer to the weyr. There, she uttered a loud announcing bugle to get someone’s attention, as she started slow circles. She worked her wings just enough to hold a steady altitude, neither descending or ascending in the sky. Again, she announced her presence loudly, before waiting once more. She would stay there and wait until someone acknowledged that they had seen her non-aggressive approach.

Dorava’s stomach pitched to her feet and back again, when her life-mate started announcing their arrival. There was no backing out now, whatever happened. They were committed. She could only hope for the best…

[reqqy]

He hadn't wanted to go Between. Kalerary, the small child, was bundled up as best he could manage on such short notice, but she still must have felt the bite of those suspended moments. Pragmatism demanded that they make the jump, however, as there was the very real likelihood that Fort Weyr might decide to pursue them. Most wouldn't know the coordinates, and he knew better than to lead an intercept wing straight to Selenitas. No, it wouldn't be hard for Fort to find the coordinates, if they weren't already common knowledge amongst the leadership, but he didn't need to be helping with that any.

His arms encircled the girl protectively. The brownrider couldn't allow anything to happen to her, especially after he'd rescued her from the bloodbath taking place at Fort. He knew that his straps were snug, and didn't bother to try to cling to them. His bonded was one of the better fliers amidst all the weyrs, the man was convinced, and certainly wouldn't let any harm come to either of his passengers, if only because that would displease his rider.

They emerged from Between low over Selenitas, the brown checking himself in with the watchdragon. A noticeably long pause. There would be people come to investigate, sure enough, as neither of them had been seen at the Weyr for eight months or so now - he thought that was how long it had been - and there was sure to be some suspicion involved. He was keenly aware of the changes that had occurred in his bonded's home weyr.

The brown, of average size but piled with enough muscle to challenge a bronze, whirled tightly over the landing platform, the afternoon's light glinting off his dark hide, the one that seemed to run with molten chocolate. He was a glorious beast, even with the scars that had come to line his hide over his scant two turns of life. Yes, this was a brown any northern weyr would kill to have in their ranks. Too bad he was Selenitas born and bred.

Mine. He looked up at his dragon's prodding, instinctively cradling the six-turn-old closer to his chest in a clearly protective gesture. A greenpair circled above, sounding a call. Who are they? Aonith and Hers. There was something in the brown's tone that made him take heed. Do we know them? No. But they hail from Benden. Ah. Now he understood the unease. We'll be fine. Just set us down.

The solid brown came to a landing with surprising gentleness, his wings folding into his sides. "We're here, Kalerary," the man said, only then loosening his grip on the young girl. "Selenitas. It will be safe for you here." He dismounted, cradling the girl, who was not so very large despite her age, in the crook of the arm that had seen a feline's fangs and claws. The man didn't move far from his brown, though, and he didn't set Kalerary down right away. Who knew how much - was known here. Prudent to be ready to leave if need be.

"Has anyone told you they're coming yet, Jess?" Not yet, HinMine. Not yet. Z'hin and Jessereth had returned to Selenitas, seemingly back from the grave, and with a young girl in tow.

[glamourie]

Oh, she was so cold. Kalerary squirmed, her eyes clenched closed. She was clinging to Z'hin for dear life; the brownrider, not his beast. While she had no fear of dragons (something that may have been surprising for a child whose entire life had been spent at Fort), he was a lot closer, and a lot more... snuggly. Well, not hard to be more snuggly than a dragon. She was terrified. Some part of her was still left at Fort, cornered by foreigners she didn't know, surrounded by blood. The biggest part of her childhood was there, trapped, probably forever. What would those horrible men have done to her if she hadn't been rescued? She wasn't sure but she was bettin' it would hurt, and she didn't want to hurt. She was scared, and she was trying her very best not to cry. Her mama Leradi had told her not to cry. That crying just made things worse. She didn't cry, but she did cling to Z'hin, and it would be quite difficult for him to convince her to let go. She was still shaking.

Even as she felt the brown dragon land, Kalerary did not release her death grip on the brownrider's riding gear. Even though his arm felt strange, she had no problem burying her head against his shoulder and clinging still. Where he went, she went. She was terrified. Mama Leradi hadn't survived one of the recent fights, her green Pyreath going between immediately. She'd been dumped in the Creche with other Weyrbrats, and she had no one. If she went back she'd be all alone, and she was scared to be alone. Being alone had her cornered by those men. She'd seen what men did to girls. She didn't want to be one of them; she wanted to be safe. He said Selenitas; he said safe. Selenitas wasn't Benden but she didn't know what it was and she was afraid to look up, afraid to see.

The loud sound from the other dragon made her jump, but she didn't cry out. Kalerary was too afraid to make a sound - afraid of drawing too much attention to herself...

Elsewhere, K'lir was finishing mending the straps on Calistoth's riding gear as the green announced her presence. He looked up, not recognizing the sound, and then turned to regard his lifemate with an expression of curiosity. It probably would've been more sincere if not for the salamandyr hanging like a deformed earring from his right earlobe, but one worked with what they could.

Who was that, Calistoth-love?
Some new, mangled green. Benden or Fort I'd wager. I'm far prettier. She brought a handsome brown with her, though.

Thoughtfully, K'lir clicked his tongue and then climbed onto Calistoth to get a better look. What he saw made his jaw drop and he silently asked her to approach, and also to inform some of the healers that they would be needed. The green was injured and that made for a certain amount of interest, but that was only some of what had him so shocked. He knew that brown nearly as well as he knew the dazzling green he so loved; Jessereth was more than a little familiar. As they landed, Calistoth too recognized him, and she folded her wings neatly before coyly flicking her tail at Jessereth. Her response was for both him and the green she completely over-looked, though.

Healers have been alerted to the arrival of injured dragons; they come now.

"Z'hin?" Calistoth's introduction was all K'lir felt was needed for the other greenrider, but he had never been exceptionally fond of them. Part of that likely stemmed from Calistoth, but she was confident; if the choice was between the mangled green and her decided beauty, she just knew who would come on top. She didn't need to flaunt. K'lir turned to glance curiously at the injured pair, before looking back at the brownpair he recognized so well. "You went off and had a kid and didn't tell anyone? ... Does Kali know?"

[dragon]

Aonith fell silent after her third call, watching the brown streak in from between in silence. They seemed to be on some urgent errand, almost not noticing her at all, it seemed. How strange! She sent some soothing thoughts to her rider, who was still being a little scared at the idea of willingly subjecting herself to another weyr in the blind hope of it being better than Benden.

And then there was another green maneuvering around down below, moving from one place to another. They, they most definitely saw her, she was sure of it. Yet again they were ignored. This was a very strange thing to experience for Aonith ... every other time she had appeared over another weyr, the reactions had been immediate.

Aonith puffed up slightly with a little pride. Apparently, her attempt at making a white flag in the sky was working ... they hadn't attacked yet. That was always a good sign. Maybe they were deciding what to do with her, still ... she was quite certain that a dragon doing what she was doing was absolutely not an everyday occurance.

Healers have been alerted to the arrival of injured dragons; they come now.

Aonith listened to that, and then relayed it to Dorava. That sounds like a friendly invite to me, if anything. And she promptly angled downward to start a slow, spiraling descent that would take her a little time to complete.

Just be careful, love. It might be a trap. Dorava warned, always wary. Aonith was always more trusting than Dorava was ... but then, Dorava was the one with the longer memory, too.

They have seen I am recently injured. They have fine sight. Aonith stated, simply.

Dorava forced herself to release the straps she was gripping so tightly ... they were starting to cut into her hands, among other things. She pulled in a double lungfull of air, forcing herself to breathe, to calm down, and to start thinking again, rather than reacting in a kneejerk fashion. This wasn't Benden. This wasn't Benden, she reminded herself. Because this wasn't Benden, it was better than Benden. That's all it took to be better ... it wasn't Benden. Breathing again, she started gaining her wits again. Alright, let's do this. She thought, simply, steeling herself for what ever might come.

Arching her wings gracefully, Aonith smoothly sailed down to a clear area for landing: she had no idea where exactly would be proper to land, and there didn't seem to be very many open areas for that. In fact, most of the area appeared to be river. Angling sideways slightly, she shifted over to the left in the air in a very unusual aerial maneuver, before settling to the ground on the small stretch of beach on the edge of the river. As soon as Aonith was down, Dorava un-snapped her straps, and slid down off her shoulder to land on her feet with a slight bounce.

Now ... to find out exactly what the rest of thier life was going to start out like.


Aonith looked at her for a moment, before turning her head to look over at the landing that held both the brown and the green. Greetings. She said to them, simply.

[reqqy]

Almost subconsciously responding to Kalerary's fear, Z'hin allowed himself to wrap his right arm around her as well, carefully rearranging the furs so as to protect her from prying eyes. No, he didn't know how they'd be received, but this was Selenitas, after all. He doubted there would be any sort of physical reception, even were it an unfavorable one. Hrorek popped from Between, settling along the thickly-built man's shoulder. A series of images cascaded through Z'hin's mind, and he sent a wave of gratitude back to the blue firelizard. His silent spy. So, K'lir. That was someone he at least knew vaguely, though mostly through Rawign. Calistoth had gotten huge, relatively speaking, since he'd left, though.

The man's hand ran through her hair lightly, trying to soothe her. Poor child. Seeing death and gore like this one had was hard on anyone, but for a child so young? He wouldn't be surprised if she had nightscares every night for tendays. "It's all right," he murmured softly. "You're safe here with me. I won't let anything happen to you." Remind me again about why we brought that little human hatchling along? We couldn't just leave her there, even if the men were gone. Why not? We already discussed this the last time you decided to get pissy. Besides, she wasn't about to let go of me. Don't worry, Jess. She's not going to replace you. The brown settled into his usual jealous silence, glaring at Kalerary with one eye.

That was when Calistoth arrived, Jessereth reluctantly moving over to give her some more room. No others would likely be able to occupy the platform, but there was still plenty of space around the island where the Main Hall stood. He spared little attention for the green, aside from a rumble in greeting. Jessereth wasn't known for being talkative - or warm. That in itself was kind of funny, considering his hide made him almost seem edible. Appearances, appearances. He also took note that the Benden green settled on the bank of the river some distance away. It was odd, but he couldn't complain; one less dragon who might feel he absolutely had to speak to them.

Z'hin didn't respond to K'lir's questioning right away, though normally he would have. His eyes were locked on the greenrider's curious choice of earring. "So that's how you plan to use Show-off?" The brownrider attempted to keep himself from laughing, mostly because he didn't want to confuse Kalerary. "It's...creative. I'll give you that much." He shifted the girl in his arms a little, adjusting her weight to something more comfortable for him. "Yes, K'lir. I went off, got into a battle, decided to hang around and have a kid. She just happened to spring from the womb a good six turns of age, because I'm magic like that."

Still stroking her hair lightly, he spoke to the girl in quiet tones. "Kalerary, honey. See? There's nothing to be afraid of. This is K'lir. He's loud, but don't let that fool you. Somewhere beneath all the bluster is a heart of gold. I just know it." Z'hin winked playfully at the greenrider, while Jessereth huffed in disgust. Then he jumped, letting out a startled yip as a green popped out of Between right in front of his nose, hovering there in a wild flurry of wingbeats. Phremath?! When had she learned to fly?!

Hiii Jessereth!! You're back! Where did you go? I missed you so much! Of course, Phremath didn't bother to keep her delighted squeal private, the high-pitched cry carrying to all within range.

Umm. Z'hin tried not to snicker at Jessereth's loss for words. The brown was not at all impressed. In a moment, Phremath had settled beneath the platform, Kalierre climbing hand-over-hand to reach the platform where the dragons huddled. She glanced around, frowning slightly. The woman looked - rumpled. As if she'd been disturbed from sleep, even though it was the height of the day. She brushed a blonde strand from her eyes and attempted a smile for K'lir and Z'hin. "This is unexpected. But...I thought there was supposed to be an injured dragon here?" The brownrider nodded toward the opposite bank. Ah! Well, she didn't feel like rowing over to them just now. The dragonhealer instead directed her attention to the missing brownpair. "Rumor was that you both were dead."

"No such luck," Z'hin returned wryly, his arms tightening around Kalerary when Kalierre seemed to notice the girl. A warning light flashed in his eyes, but the dragonHealer didn't heed it. She lifted a questioning brow in the brownrider's direction. "She's not hurt, just frightened. This is Kalerary, Kali. Kalerary? This woman is the nice woman who makes people feel better when they're hurt."

As all this was going on, Phremath was staring curiously at the wounded green on the bank. Why was she so far away? The young green, her small, stunted wings still for once, cocked her head to one side. You can join us over here, if you like. There's plenty of room, and KaliMine can help you. Unless you can't fly over? the green concluded kindly.

[dragon]

Aonith and Dorava watched all the goings-on over on the Main Hall's landing in polite silence - Aonith especially so since she had received no return comment at all to her greeting. Oh well - no response at all was better than a hostile one.

When Phremath spoke to Aonith, Aonith altered her gaze from the older dragons to the younger. You can join us over here, if you like. There's plenty of room, and KaliMine can help you. Unless you can't fly over? the little dragon had said.

Aonith considered that statement for a moment, before passing it on to her rider. After a slight nod from Dorava, she responded to the young green: Thank you. I think I will join you shortly. Aonith then looked to her rider.

Dorava clambered back up her dragon's shoulder, and settled down astride the green's neck. "Alright. Let's go." she said, not bothering to tie down. After such a long straight-flight, she knew Aonith was not inclinded to fly again just yet.

However, the green dragon did have a fascination for water ... and there was some of it between the two beaches. Once her rider was settled, Aonith stepped forward into the water, and walked toward the Main Hall tree untill she ran out of ground under her feet. Then she began to swim, snaking her way across the water until she was able to walk back out of the river near where Phremath was standing.

Aonith paused long enough for hers to slide off again, and then she touched noses gently with the much younger green in greeting, eyes swirling in slow, peaceful colors. Standing next to where Aonith was, Dorava waited patiently ... she was not about to do anything that might in any way be construed into being perceived as hostile.

[glamourie]

The worst possible thing Z'hin could have done was indicate Showoff. The bronze salamandyr did not give his person a chance to respond, instead flaring his frill in a blatant show of preening. He released his death-grip on K'lir's ear lobe and properly threw himself from Calistoth straight to Z'hin, using his weak little wings to glide. He didn't have much size, but it got him from one dragon to the other, and he zoomed up and over the male's side, coming to rest right on his shoulder. Approvingly, Showoff latched straight onto Z'hin's earlobe, going completely limp as soon as he did so, but that did not cause him to be silent in any manner of the word. He immediately blurted out, Hellohello, Winged Dunghead, hellohello. For Showoff, it was a near-friendly greeting. No one had ever said he was polite. 'Dunghead' was his universal word for.. pretty much any one or thing. Some people might have taken it for an insult, and sometimes, it was intended as one. But the rider of the big brown piece of dung was talking about him and therefore, Showoff was very, very happy with him.

"As you can see, I don't exactly get a choice," K'lir stated calmly as he indicated the bronze salamandyr hanging from Z'hin's ear. "He just does whatever he wants -- and you know, if anyone could come back with a six-turn-old, it's y--"

Whatever K'lir was going to say was cut off at the child's name, and her face as she turned around to look at the greenrider and his beast. She smiled shyly, not at K'lir, but at Calistoth, who quite pointedly ignored the child. Her gaze then flicked over across the river, at the injured green, and she lifted one hand to open and close her fist in a vague wave. Then she turned to look back up at Z'hin, but it was clear from how she clung to him that she was not eager to get down and deal with anything - or anyone - else. While the person on the green dragon closest didn't seem like he was going to get her (she even noticed that he looked quite surprised by her; what, did she have something on her face?), she didn't want to take the risk. The brownrider was safe. She tightened her hand on his riding jacket. His reassurance didn't help, because his brown snorted. She ducked her head...

... and then let out a deafening shriek. Another green that she didn't recognize. Terror flashed over Kalerary's eyes and she leaned her head down, just as Showoff released Z'hin and dropped onto her head. Quietly, as though she was frightened of being heard, she spoke: "Don't let them get me." Even the talking and - again - reassurance of her safety failed to comfort Kalerary. She settled for closing her eyes. Big girls didn't cry, even when they were surrounded by lots, and lots of strangers. At least this one was a girl, too.

"Yeah, that green over there looks like she's beat up. Kalerary, eh," K'lir commented, leaning around Z'hin (with no regard for the little girl's blatant fear; he'd never been good with children) to try and get a better look at her face. "Kalerary, that salamandyr on your head is Showoff. If he gets to be a pest I'll remove him." He ignored that Z'hin stated he had a heart of gold. Pfft. Like he'd know. The greenrider looked up as the injured pair flew over and gave a curt nod as Calistoth recoiled, the annoyance evident in the fresh-out-of-weyrlinghood green's eyes. He flinched, but fortunately, Calistoth backed off and put herself closer to Jessereth than the older female. Phremath was probably the lone green she could stand.

Turning to Kalierre, K'lir tilted his head. "Do you need any help specifically?" It was, from K'lir, quite an offer. He didn't know a thing about healing but he was sure Kali had no problem bossing him around. She'd never hesitated before.

Kalerary, on the other hand, lifted one hand to her head and grabbed Showoff right out of her hair by his back. The salamandyr, so surprised at the little girl's audacity, went limp and she lifted her head, then turned to hold the salamandyr out for K'lir to take. Though she was only six, the long dark brown curls and facial structure was unmistakably reminiscent of the current Weyrleader at Selenitas, Ka'rys. Only the pale gray eyes spoke of another lineage. She scowled. "Your pet's annoying, mister greenrider, sir, but your dragon is very pretty." She then glanced over at Phremath .. and visibly recoiled, clinging to Z'hin with terror. K'lir took Showoff, who displayed threateningly at Kalerary, as if insulted, though he didn't say anything. "Why's she look funny? She looks funny. She's not mean is she?"

[reqqy]

The brownrider blinked, notably surprised at suddenly having a salamandyr coming straight for him, but Z’hin didn’t bother to move. Showoff wasn’t nearly as territorial as some of his brethren. Besides, if he showed any nervousness, Kalerary would likely freak out. A small, wry smile took his lips as Showoff apparently decided that being K’lir’s earring simply wasn’t enough. It wasn’t really painful, though he wasn’t at all used to dead weight dangling from one side of his head. It felt very strange. “Hi there, Showoff. Taking care of your dunghead over here?” Yes, he was quite amused by the salamandyr’s method of speaking, and always had been. Z’hin vaguely remembered the flit uprising instigated by Hrorek and K’lir’s near mental breakdown between Calistoth and Showoff. Seemed like he’d learned to manage it since then. Unlike his tongue, which was just as vitriolic as ever.

Jumping at Kalerary’s shriek, he didn’t know how to comfort her. Neither Z’hin nor Jessereth could ever see the sweet little Phremath as a threat, and he was still trying to get his mind around the fact that the green had obviously terrified this girl. When she didn’t respond to his reassurances he settled for simply holding her and hoping she’d calm down eventually. What else could he do, really?

Nodding in response to K’lir’s question, Z’hin had to struggle not to edge away from the greenrider. He didn’t like people near him much unless he instigated the closeness. It probably wouldn’t be all that suspicious if he shied away, considering what the others undoubtedly suspected about his long absence, but the brownrider was unwilling to risk it. He knew he’d never been all that strange about space in situations like these in the past. Nope, that was definitely a more recent development. Watch your back and all that. Still, he had to comment, if only because it should keep the young man from getting too close again in the immediate future. “Come now, K’lir. Give me some room. I don’t swing that way.” He offset the comment by a small smile.

Kalierre was currently ignoring the injured dragon in favor of the strange scene in front of her, and did not particularly appreciate K’lir reminding her that she had business to attend to. “Trying to say I should probably go take care of that green, weyrling? I know, I know. But she’ll keep. From the looks of it, that wound is an old one.” She was rather intrigued by the tot Z’hin had brought with him. In fact, she’d really like to know the story behind this Kalerary, but figured she could wait a little bit. Yes. She could be patient.

The man watched Kalerary, bemused, until she again evinced distress at the mere sight of Phremath. He frowned mildly. “She was hatched with small wings like that,” the brownrider explained patiently. “Phremath just is happy to see my Jess. They’re clutchmates. Brother and sister. She’s not mean at all, just easily excited.” Phremath, who hated it when people were scared of her, also spoke to Kalerary. I’m sorry, hatchling. I didn’t mean to scare you. She peered at the girl-child anxiously, hoping that the young one would accept that and not be afraid anymore.

Kalierre had edged forward in Z’hin’s distraction, peering intently at what she could see of his arm from beneath the coat. After all, she’d been the one to stitch him all back together – multiple times. She had a vested interest. “Fort did that? I didn’t know they were getting into body enhancements, too.” The brownrider’s gaze suddenly looked guarded, but she chalked it up to that not being something he wanted to think about, his time at Fort. From what little S’rei had learned from Faolan, then told her, the dragonhealer was aware of what likely had happened to this man and his Jessereth, though she still didn’t know how they’d managed to break away and return.

Fortunately, Phremath chose that time to invade the thoughts of Hers, such that Z’hin didn’t have to deal with any more awkward questions. Are you coming, KaliMine? Jessereth’s will be there after you’re done. True enough. Hold on. I’m on my way. “If you still want to help out?” Kalierre quickly moved to join her Phremath and the newcomer, quietly amused at how they were already touching snouts. Her little disfigured green had always been quick to form bonds, though she acted much younger than she was. Both she and Jessereth were older than Calistoth and, yes, from the same clutch.

“All right. Tell me what happened,” the dragonhealer stated, looking from green to rider. “But if you want to talk to me directly,” she added to the dragon, as some had been known to try in the past, “I can’t hear you, so you’ll have to go through Phremath.”

Invite the greenrider to join us, Jess. But… No buts. It will put you at ease. And I can’t imagine it will be easy for her to watch if Phremath’s has to do anything invasive. Still not liking the idea, Jessereth obeyed the wishes of His and addressed the wounded green. Mine says Yours can join him up here if she feels uncomfortable watching the dragonhealer at work. He then hoped they’d decline. Didn’t much like company, or speaking to anyone, or – anything much like that.

[dragon]

Dorava looked over at Kalierre as she approached, and listened as she spoke. When she finished speaking, Dorava answered: "Aonith was brutalized by a brown in a fight." she waved one hand to indicate the damage. "It is old enough that we were able to fly straight, all the way here ... but it does still need extensive healing time. I don't know if you can do anything for her, but if you can... feel free." she smiled pleasantly - or as pleasantly as she could managed considering the flutterbugs in her stomach. "Thank you for your kind offer."

After receiving Jessereth's message, Aonith in turn relayed it to Dorava. After a moment's thought, Dorava decided to accept the offer. Not because of being disturbed by healers working, but because she needed to find out what thier future held. She imagined that Aonith would be safe enough with the healer, especially since she was already making friends with the healer's green.

"I am going to go up to the landing." Dorava told Kalierre, before smiling in a slightly more relaxed fashion, heading for the passage up. She made her way up to the landing, and then walked over to where the two riders were standing. She paid the young girl only a small look, noting that she seemed terrified of everything around her. And then she looked to the two men, and offered a curt nod of a bow in greeting.

"I am Dorava, formerly of Benden, rider of Green Aonith. I know this is more than a little unusual... but we are looking for a new place to call home." She said, straight out, hoping that it was the best way to go about this. She had never transfered to a different weyr before, and in the North, transfers just simply didn't happen. They were too busy killing each other.

The antics of the salamandyr snatched her attention for a moment, before she brought her eyes back to the two men. Such strange oddities could be explored later on, when there were no pressing matters at hand to be dealt with.

[glamourie]

"Huh?" K'lir blinked in confusion at Z'hin before realizing how close he'd gotten when he was trying to look at the little girl. As if realizing his mistake, he stepped away. No, Z'hin wasn't his type at all. There was a line there for him. Aside from the fact that he generally preferred blueriders (which he attributed to Calistoth seeming to privately prefer them as well; oh, she flirted with bronzes often enough, but she was too proud of her speed and agility to let anything short of a blue catch her, he suspected), Z'hin was .. almost an associate, through a mutual acquaintance; namely, Rawign. If he'd felt any attraction to Z'hin, it would've been killed at that realization. No, no. Not his type at all. Besides, K'lir was strangely preferential to women, despite being a greenrider. He strongly suspected it was because they had more tolerance for his moodiness than most men did. He scoffed, and shook his head slowly, slinging brown-red strands around his face. "Um, all respect meant, Z'hin, you're not my type. I was trying to look at the girl..." He trailed off and then glanced at Kalerary again, his stomach turning over.

The resemblance really was uncanny. It was too much that any normal person would know who that child's sire - or older brother - was. Either way, she looked enough like Ka'rys that they were direct blood in some way. He wondered if it was prudent to point out, but since she'd just insulted Showoff, who snarled and slipped up under his shirt to settle right between his shoulder blades (doubtlessly where the bronze salamandyr would stay until he could convince someone to pry the little nuisance off), he decided not to say anything. Behind him, Calistoth preened prettily, clearly pleased that her beauty had been noted. It never occurred to her that the little girl may never have seen an adult green not covered in scars, and thus that the compliment was far from as high as she seemed to think it was. But she preened, happy to be complimented, and K'lir simply neglected to mention to the green anything that might damage her ego. She was easier to deal with in a good mood.

The fact that Kalierre seemed accusing actually surprised him and he blinked at her, baffled. "No, I was trying to help," he muttered, then folded his arms, looking every bit the part of a child who's favorite toy had been taken from him. Frankly, he honestly had been offering to help, but went to show how often anyone wanted it. He scoffed, stepping away from the pair, much to Calistoth's irritation. She flared her wings and looked at him for a moment before finally settling down.

What if I don't want to leave?
Clearly, my help isn't wanted.
You're sulking!

The mental reprimand made K'lir turn and give Calistoth a very dirty look. It was almost fortunate that his timing coincided with Kalerary turning to look from Phremath to Jessereth again before she held one hand out toward the green. She'd spoken to her. That fact made the little girl brighten considerably. Throughout all of her turns at Fort, not a single dragon had ever spoken to her. Not her mother's and not her father's. She'd accepted it was considered rude by many dragons, but maybe in the south the dragons were nicer and more likely to talk to her. She'd like that. She was scared enough as it was, but the dragon with the strange wings didn't seem to be that bad.

"You popped out of no where like ZOOM," she explained with a wide splaying of one hand (the other of which remained clinging to Z'hin as though in a death grip). "I was just surprised." She blinked twice, then looked back up at Z'hin before asking curiously, "She's Phremath, handsome brown is Jessereth, what about them?" She indicated the two other greens, and tilted her head to the side just slightly. She liked greens. Her mother was a greenrider; she trusted greens more than she did most other dragons.

"She's Calistoth," K'lir offered, no small amount of sulking evident in his voice. Apparently being reprimanded had not sat well with him. Calistoth turned to look at Kalerary again, but otherwise did not respond. K'lir chose that moment to step away and toddle after Kalierre, doubtlessly intending to do whatever he could to help. He hadn't been trying to remind her of any work she had to do. Muttering quietly to himself, he wandered up and fidgeted. A healer he was not. Lacking in knowledge and demeanor among other things, but K'lir was usually good about taking orders, even if he did sulk. Calistoth on the other hand expected everything to go her way and for that reason, she chose not to follow him.

Instead, the green looked down at the child, before stating for all the dragons nearby to hear, It looks like Ciceroth's. Well, she did.

[reqqy]

Z'hin smirked at K'lir's confusion. Well. At least one male greenrider who wasn't going to be giving him any trouble. The brownrider seemed to accrue admirers like most people did knick knacks, and no, gender didn't typically play into it much. He wasn't even sure why he tended to be popular, but it had started here, at Selenitas...mostly within his weyrling class. Which suggested it required his being around someone a little while. In the north, other riders of his wing seemed to latch on to him, that and the other prisoners. Of course, he kind of understood the latter. He'd been foolish, had thought he could actually help some of the people reeling from the loss of their mindmates. Very, very foolish of him. It did serve to put him as a sort of focal point of the prisoners, however. Figures. People tended to admire stupidity if it looked even remotely like courage.

"Good. That makes two of us. Now..." He shifted Kalerary beneath his chin, feeling like she wasn't heavy so much as his arms didn't like being immobilized in the same position for a good length of time. Particularly his left arm, which had a tendency to work jerkily after being held still and in tension. The brownrider spared the small - man? boy? very little attention, aside from a curious glance now and then, wondering why the greenrider had grown so sullen out of the blue. In the end, though, Kalerary was more interesting. There was just something about children and their innocence. They bounced back so quickly.

He smiled at her, allowing K'lir to answer for Calistoth. "She's the youngest," he added then, with a wink. "The other is -" Aonith. Thanks. No problem. "-Aonith. From Benden." He knew that just saying anything about Benden to Kalerary might distress her, but as he didn't particularly expect the greenrider to be sensitive to the girl's feelings, better to tell her now. Besides which, he preferred to be straightforward with children. Kids didn't need to be coddled and told half-truths - it only confused them later in life. "She and her rider don't want to fight anymore. That's why they came to Selenitas. That's why everyone who transfers to Selenitas comes, in the end." Not precisely true, but at least this generalization was close enough that he wasn't worried about it confusing her.

The equivalent of a draconic giggle was directed the human hatchling's way. Yes, I do that. I'm sorry. It's how I fly. Lots of popping up out of nowhere. If you like, I'm sure Mine would let you come flying with us. We could pop out of nowhere and surprise people just for fun! The green surrepitiously insinuated herself closer to Aonith, prepared to help Hers as needed. Even now, KaliMine was nodding to the greenrider, that distracted intense focus of hers coming into play. "Go ahead, greenrider. I'll have words with you later," the woman responded almost cheerily - almost - but she definitely meant it. These wounds weren't properly treated, and they were flying halfway across Pern on them? Sure, she could understand wanting to get away from Benden, but at least wait for your dragon to heal first, before aggravating the wounds.

The dragonhealer flashed a smile at K'lir as he appeared, already gently pulling at one of Aonith's wings to extend it while Phremath stayed close to the older green and crooned comfortingly. "Finished sulking? I'm sorry that I snapped at you, K'lir, but I must admit that the attitude amused me, so I didn't apologize right away. You're almost cute when pouting." The woman winked at him. "This is a mess, too." Glancing up at Aonith, she stated rather drolly. "I would have said you could never fly on these for any good distance, and yet you managed it across a continent. You're brave, green Aonith, but I hope it won't permanently effect you. These wings need to be repaired, and the wounds need to be drained." They were filled with fluid, the scars along Aonith's hide, and the potential for infection was so high it nearly made Kalierre sick. "Be a dear and bring my satchel, will you? It's attached to Phremath." The question directed at K'lir, of course.

Z'hin cast a rather lopsided grin at Dorava as she approached. Well, of course she was looking for a new home. She wouldn't be here otherwise, would she? "Z'hin of Jessereth," he replied with a slight nod. "Selenitas is relatively peaceful, Dorava of Aonith, but your people have made it so we can't promise safety." Dry, dry comment. Z'hin was one of the fourteen that Benden had just gone and decided was inconvenient to have around, instigating the weyrling massacre of Fath's last clutch. Half of their number had been winnowed by Benden. The brownrider himself nearly had his throat cut, which was actually where the scar on his cheek was from. "I think -" Phremath is contacting Salenth and Ciceroth right now. "- yes, we'll have someone approve your transfer here shortly. It's not nearly so unusual as you might believe. Probably half our ranks are made up of transfers from one or the other of the northern weyrs. Our Weyrleader was a Fort transfer, and out former Weyrleader a Benden one." Hopefully that would put her a little at ease. Really, he just wanted to see if there was any recognition there, but...so far, no.

For the first time since arriving at the Weyr, Jessereth's head swiveled to regard Calistoth, and he spoke to her, his deep tones guarded, but sounding more like he just didn't much like to speak than he didn't care for Calistoth. Which, in the end, was rather true. Jessereth didn't care enough one way or the other about the green to have formed an opinion of her. Ciceroth's? he inquired curiously. That's...interesting. She did latch onto us while HinMine was at Fort.

Phremath, too, was intrigued, but she could really only do one thing at any given time - maybe two things at once occasionally, but that was stretching it. Ciceroth, the green began tentatively, nervous speaking to such a highly-ranked bronze - Salenth didn't bother her because of the relationship between Hers and His - but more comfortable with him than with a gold other than Aslath, and Aslath wasn't here right now. We're with a Benden greenpair wanting to transfer here. Aonith is hurt. Salenth's says their names aren't familiar to him. So they weren't a driving force at Benden, though that was predictable. Even Phremath knew that greens weren't very important in the eyes of the northern weyrs.

[dragon]

Aonith watched with attention as Kalierre moved and poked and tugged on her. When her wing was pulled on rather pointedly, Aonith settled down to the ground, tucking her feet under her body as she stretched out on the sands of the bar. She stretched out the wing that was desired, slowly enough to not pose a threat to the humans around her, yet still quick enough that it indicated that she felt no stiffness in the ragged wing.

Aonith knew well that some of the treatments were liable to hurt a little, but she also knew that most of it was necessary. She took comfort in the feelings coming from hers, as well as the sounds coming from the young green before her. Stretching her neck out, she draped her head over Phremath's shoulders, where she wouldn't be able to see what the healer was doing...

Dorava sent more comforting thoughts to hers, and hoped that Kalierre was a good healer and would do Aonith alot of good. Even so, she payed attention to what the riders around her said. Many of Selenitas riders were transfers? She wouldn't have thought that... but at least Selenitas was willing to take in transfers! It took a not insubstantial weight off her shoulders, easing her worry.

But after hearing a few remarks about Benden, Dorava restrained herself from making any choice comments about her former home. She reached to her shoulders, and yanked the knots off them. She gave them a rather distasteful look, before tossing them to the boards at her feet. "Formerly of Benden. Even if I find no haven here, I will not be returning to that waste-hole." she said quietly, but with enough conviction that said she meant it with every bone in her body. "We will have nothing to do with such as them. Not anymore, not now that we are free." she looked the riders square in the eyes, then. "And should they come again, know that Aonith and I will not shy from sending them back to the pit from which they sprang."

After just a moment for thought, a moment in which she mastered herself back to better thoughts and subsequently a better mood yet again, she asked: "May I inquire after the names of the Leaders, thus I might address them appropriately?" She nodded to them in thanks. "I look forward to being integrated into this weyr."

[glamourie]

Kalerary looked up at Z'hin for a moment before turning to look back at the injured green. She was torn. Her mother hadn't wanted to fight - ever. She'd done it but she hadn't liked it, she said, she always explained it as "Doing what needs doing" -- her mother never ran away, so why was it okay for that greenrider to? The confusion showed as plainly on her face as any other emotion. At six turns old she had no ability to hide what she was feeling. She squinted, but then decided it was an adult thing and probably because her dragon was so very hurt. Hurt dragons made Kalerary sad. She hated seeing them suffer. It always felt like someone had done something horribly wrong to her, but no one ever asked her opinion.

She turned back to Phremath and regarded the green with serious eyes before holding one hand out as if to touch the green - but she was too far away by enough that her hand more than fell short. She dropped her hand and then nodded slowly. She'd gone between a few times and hated the feeling of it, but if it meant she got to scare some people and make them squeal she was okay with it - that could be fun and the dragon with the strange wings, Phremath she was called, she seemed nice. Like a fun playmate. Kalerary smiled, then looked up at Z'hin before saying quietly, "Can I go talk to Phremath?" She seemed willing enough to talk to her, at least, and Kalerary hoped she wouldn't be offended. Some dragons took high offense to people talking to them directly, and she didn't really understand why, but since the green dragon was happy enough to speak to her, it seemed like she wouldn't mind too much. Right...?

If she noticed Calistoth's attention on her, she didn't remotely hint at it. Calistoth snorted before turning to look at Jessereth; she did not remember him very well. Though she knew he came from Selenitas, and his name, that was where her memories of the brown ended, and it was just as well, as she probably would have taken offense at the lack of warmth offered to her otherwise. But she was too busy focusing on the little girl with an intensity usually reserved only for meals.

It does look like Ciceroth's, scarily so. It came from Fort? She thrummed softly in her throat before looking at Jessereth. Are you keeping it? I don't like hatchlings; I don't think you should keep it. I hear Aslath's likes them, give it to her.

The dragonhealer's comment earned nothing short of a baleful glare from K'lir; he was not cute, nothing about him was cute, not one little thing, from his toes to his nose, he was anything but. He decided not to argue as the last time he'd argued with Kalierre, Phremath sat on him and he remembered that. She'd been much smaller. He didn't want to imagine what it would feel like if she decided to sit on him at her current size. His gaze turned back to Aonith and he smiled as reassuringly as he could, but in truth he rather wanted to walk over to her rider and knock her flat on her backside for daring to force her dragon to fly in such condition. It was - cruelty. No matter what the excuse. He'd never have done something like that to Calistoth. Granted, Calistoth would've told him where to get off, but that was beside the point - it was wrong to mistreat a dragon that way. Surely another, more experienced rider recognized that.

Nodding to Kalierre, K'lir turned and moved toward Phremath to retrieve the satchel as instructed. Before he moved to take it, he cast a slight nod to the dragon. "Don't sit on me," he instructed quite seriously before taking the satchel and turning on his heel to move right back to Kali, arm outstretched for her to take it - or anything in it - as needed. He didn't really mind acting like some kind of stand if it helped make treating the injured dragon easier.

Phremath's words caught Ciceroth by surprise. The bronze was near the river, far enough away not to see the new arrivals, though if Phremath said they were there, they must have been. He relayed her message to Ka'rys near verbatim, and then replied softly, Rysmine suggested that Aonith be moved to the dragon-side of the infirmary where she can receive proper treatment - if she is able to move - and says that once yours is sure that she is stable and well enough, that her rider be sent to meet with him, that he might talk to her about her transferring here. But he says that it can wait until Aonith is in stable condition. Is her rider hurt, and does yours need help? It was a simple enough response, but Ciceroth sounded concerned. Benden greenpair. Hurt. That couldn't be good, and Ciceroth was tempted to fly over and check on them himself...

Dorava's question made Kalerary look up in surprise, and the six-turn-old gave her a very serious look. "Shmee of Gold Aslath is Senior Weyrwoman, Kaegan of Gold Millieth is Junior Weyrwoman, the current Weyrleader is Ka'rys of Bronze Ciceroth, and the Junior Weyrleader is R'non of Bronze Rath. Don't they teach you that at Benden?" It was expected of everyone at Fort to know that kind of information, and Kalerary was surprisingly good at memorization. She was... surprised... that she knew something a grown rider didn't. Ah, but she had other reasons for knowing who the Selenitas leaders were, not that she ever would tell anybody that. It was the secret her mother told her, and she was going to keep it, because her mother told her to. She must have had a good reason.

[reqqy]

It did, Jessereth responded shortly, not one to mince words. Despite himself, the brown rumbled at Calistoth's suggestion. That didn't sound half-bad. Too bad His wouldn't go for it. Even now, he could feel disapproval radiating off HinMine. The man's gaze flicked toward him for a brief moment. You're amused. A clear accusation. Jessereth briefly considered playing the innocent, but that never worked. He settled for ignoring His. I'd gladly give Aslath's the hatchling, so long as I didn't have to talk to Aslath, he replied honestly. HinMine pays far too much attention to her. He hasn't listened to me so far, though, so I think I'll just have to live with it.

The dragonhealer was not put off by the general silence greeting her from all directions. Everyone was complying which, for now, was the important part. Kali backpedaled a little clumsily as Aonith responded to her prodding, catching herself before she could fall on her rump. It wasn't really Aonith's fault; Kalierre had always been less than coordinated, though it didn't effect her healing ability. Thankfully. This was when Lust was finally jolted from his sleep, the salamandyr hissing at her for waking him. L'rineeater, he growled menacingly, sinking his claws into her chest. Kalierre suppressed a sigh. Lovely. Thus far, she'd kept the two bronze salamandyrs from mixing, which was...fortunate, to say the least. Lust was possessive of everything and everyone. Maybe he wouldn't notice Showoff? Although...she didn't think that was particularly likely when Lust didn't seem to understand the meaning of privately addressing anyone. The salamandyr broadcasted. All the time.

Phremath regarded K'lir curiously, her head tilting to one side. He may have remembered her, but the green had trouble remembering everything from just yesterday - unless it happened to be particularly traumatic - and she certainly couldn't recall anything that long ago. That's silly, the young green responded chirpily, adjusting herself as Aonith's head snaked over her shoulder. Phremath paused to nuzzle the other dragon in a show of acceptance. Why would I want to sit on you? You'd squish. And I don't think you'd be very comfy. Like sitting on a lump. She nudged him lightly with her snout, clearly amused by the silly bonebag. Sit on him? Where would he get such an idea?

Too many words too fast! Phremath flailed a little, moving from one foot to the other as Ciceroth replied to her, the green's eyes rolling toward KaliMine. What is it, lovely? Ciceroth. Something about moving Aonith and...and talking to Hers, and then a lot of questions. Phremath's distress was quickly being replaced by embarrassment. Why couldn't she grasp this better? The dragonhealer frowned mildly, wishing she could still speak to dragons as she'd used to. It would have made things a whole lot simpler. Maybe you can ask Jessereth to speak to him for you? The green immediately brightened. Yes! That's what I'll do. Jess! Hey, Jessereth! His head swiveled to look at her, but he didn't say anything. Jess?

He huffed in irritation. Couldn't she see he was paying attention? What? There went the excited wriggle. Jessereth sincerely wished he could just avoid Phremath for the rest of his days. Far too happy, that creature was. Ciceroth was trying to tell me things, but...could you talk to him? About Aonith? Please? I'll make it up to you! Jessereth didn't want to know what her idea of making it up to him might be. No need. Don't...feel like you have to do anything for me. He turned his mind to Ciceroth, not ecstatic about talking to the bronze but what can you do? It was better than being whined at by Phremath. Apparently you've confused Phremath, the brown stated gruffly, without preamble. It didn't occur to him that Ciceroth may not be expecting his voice at all, since he was presumably dead. What was it you were trying to tell her?

Meanwhile, Kalierre was taking the satchel from K'lir, offering the lad a curt nod and turning away before Lust could notice Showoff. She placed it at her feet and began rifling through it, finding what she wanted in a moment. The dragonhealer knew that it would be good to get Aonith to the infirmary, but she also didn't want to wait on the built-up fluids. Dragons didn't often get sick, but it was usually terrible when they did. "Just keep that wing up for me, Aonith," she told the dragon softly, slathering the first of the long, raised scars with redwort, then numbweed. She pulled a knife, gripping a tube between her teeth, well away from the part that she intended to insert into the dragon. A small incision, then she inserted the tube, setting up three bowls on the ground. The color of the fluid draining from the old, neglected wound made her glad she'd done this now. It was crusted, turning the faint green hue of the ichor into something a pale yellow and...thick. Definitely infected. If this dragon became seriously ill she'd have to beat Dorava on pure principle.

"If you'd discard the contents of the bowls as they fill up," Kalierre asked of K'lir, distractedly, even as she carefully went about using adhesive to keep the tubing in place until the wound finished draining.

Kalerary's question was noted, but Z'hin was currently distracted by the greenrider in front of him. The older woman had apparently felt the need to make a display of it. He frowned at her. Not that he disagreed with the sentiment, but...shards, wasn't that a little overdramatic? The brownrider wasn't much for grand displays of emotion or conviction. He tended to be a firm believer in the adage that 'actions speak louder than words'. Ironically, Z'hin himself did not wear knots, but then again, he'd been something of a prisoner, even with the freedom they'd given him. At her promise, though, his lips turned up in what could only be described as a wolfish grin, and suddenly the laidback air transmuted into something distinctly dark and dangerous. "A worthy sentiment. Although we could have done without the dramatics. You start proclaiming your hate for Benden too loudly, and I'm sure the Weyrleader will assume the opposite is the truth. He's a very suspicious sort." That much, Z'hin remembered about him, if only through rumor. He'd really had little contact with the bronzerider.

Fortunately for Dorava, Kalerary answered her question first. Z'hin wouldn't have been nearly as nice about it. He was more than aware that Benden did expect their riders to know these things. What, had she had her head buried in the ground? "Shmee and Ka'rys are of a height, between 5'6" and 5'7" I'd say, and both thin. They look about the same age, too, though Ka'rys is older. You'll never see them together, if what I've heard about their relationship is true. Shmee has dark hair and blue eyes, and will probably have her infant daughter with her. Ka'rys has dark hair and dark eyes and tends to go around barefoot. Emotionless expression. You should know what R'non and Kaegan look like, considering they both defected from Benden as well. Any more questions?"

His tone made it clear that the word 'stupid' had very nearly made its way into that sentence. Before she could reply, though, he smiled down at Kalerary, as of course he hadn't forgotten her. "I don't mind. Just do what Kalierre tells you to, all right?" Z'hin set down the girl, nodding to Hrorek, who released the brownrider to take up a perch on Kalerary's shoulder.

[dragon]

Aonith dutifully held her wing up where Kalierre wanted it. Just holding it out was far easier than hanging from it in flight, as as such her wing was rock steady.

Please tell yours that my condition is none of mine's fault, and it was I who decided I could make the journey. Aonith told Phremath. It was altogether clear to Aonith the animosity that was building, and she didn't like it any. It made her fear for hers. Dorava and Aonith had decided to come here looking for something better. And Aonith didn't like the idea suddenly coming to her about what that 'better' might be. As such, she sent a subtle warning to hers.

Dorava, also aware of her interaction blunders, sent soothing thoughts back to Aonith. The green was finally getting the care she needed, and Dorava wasn't going to compromise that by letting Aonith get all worked up and defensive over something that Dorava seriously hoped to fix here shortly.

Over dramatic? "I speak my mind, I speak the truth of my heart. And I do not repeat myself. I am not liable to mention it again if I can help it." she clarified. "Thank you for telling me what I asked ... I was informed before, but things can change quickly. Faster than some might like. I was just making sure my information was up to date and correct. It would be awfully awkward to address a new Leader by the old one's name, even if simply because of misinformation."

Dorava was not ignorant to the fact that Benden had tried repeatedly to oust the Leadership at Selenitas... and since she wasn't privy to all the decisions and plannings, she had no idea when and how several turned out, or if they did at all.

"Thank you." Over all, Dorava thought that things were going relatively well ... they hadn't been slain on sight, after all. And she really believed it was none of her business whether or not someone else thought she was stupid. That was their bucket, not hers. So long as she wasn't actually stupid. But even so ... she did want to come here, make a home, and possibly make some friends maybe. And letting them think things like that wasn't the way to do it, she figured.

Dorava contemplated the knots sitting on the floor before her, and in retrospect thought that maybe dropping them had been a little over the top. But at the time, it had felt so good. Oh well. She'd retrieve them and burn them in due time.