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Post by dragon on Oct 15, 2009 22:30:22 GMT -5
"Maybe, I dunno. My flitter doesn't do anything at all. Other than eat and sleep." Dorava commented, scooping Valiant up again and dropping him back down the front of her shirt. He landed with a wriggly plop, happy to be safe again ... and back where he belonged. With a bemused chirp, he curled up and stared up at Dorava's chin, wondering what in the world he'd done to deserve that kind of scare.
"Actually, impressing won't help you much on the understanding score. That just simply takes time." Dorava added. "And sometimes ... you never do really understand everything. I think only those raised in Weyrs understand everything. I've been doing this for a long time, now, and I still miss some of the finer details." She shrugged, as Aonith appeared over the edge of the ledge and gently backwinged to a landing on the edge. Arching her neck, the green was careful to not crowd Rulven right off the edge.
So this is we. She commented, simply, tilting her head. Mandyr slid off and landed on the stone with a meaty splat. It somehow failed to wake her though, and Dorava couldn't help but think that the flitter looked dead like that. Heaving a sigh, she bent to scoop up the vaguely twitching creature. She must really be having some really strange dreams right about then ... maybe flying into a ham as big as a cliff? Who knew?
"Aonith can take us to the hall." Dorava answered. "It's a sight faster than walking all those halls." she paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I've heard of a few riders that were afraid of heights. Most don't last too long... flying with your eyes shut is a good way to fly into things." Or get wiped out by an attacking dragonpair, one. But she didn't say that.
"I can ask Aonith to find out who the other smiths are?" Dorava offered, before clambering up onto Aonith's neck.
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Post by rii on Oct 16, 2009 14:31:08 GMT -5
Really, salamandyrs were a bit odd. Didn't they know that was a bit of an inappropriate place to be perching and chirping from. The smith did acknowledge the fact that people let animals into their personal space without question–but the lizards were a bit smarter than the average critter. It just seemed odd, maybe because when Rulven tried to glance at the creature he felt like he was being rude. He did not want to get slapped. So he opted to ignore the salamandyr all together.
Whatever the smith had thought to say to Dorava's comments was lost as soon as the green appeared. Without being asked Rulven backed away to allow the green room to land near her rider without risking knocking the tall smith aside in the process. And oh–Rulven eyes widened slightly at the sight of the flopping fire lizard. "Is she dead.. ?"
Interested in the fire lizard, Rulven stepped over and gave a worried glance over the ... sleeping creature. How strange, what kind of thing slept through.. flying on top of a dragon's head then splatting against the rock. A glance up at Dorava's face told him that this was something normal, or regular for the little green. "I take it I'm the only one actually worried over her." He mused teasingly.
Out of more nervousness than anything practical, Rulven wiped his palms against the side of his pants in a brushing motion. He gazed up at the green, braving a smile for her. "If it's.. not an inconvenience.. " The words more for the dragon than rider. After a second more of hesitation–it didn't seem Dorava was giving him much a choice since she had already climbed up onto the green's back. Unless she planned to just leave and be gone from his company. Who really knew, people were odd like that at times.
Probably in all his hesitation he could have been halfway to the dining hall. Rulven stepped forward, with a bit of direction found his appropriate place on the green's back. It felt too personal to ride on another person's dragon. Feeding their flits was one thing, but–but– "This is actually my first time on a dragon. So.." he jokingly said toward both Aonith and Dorava. "Go easy on me."
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Post by dragon on Oct 16, 2009 17:28:06 GMT -5
"No, she's not dead ... she just sleeps like a dead thing. I think she's missing 95% of her brain or something. That's all she does ... eat and sleep." Dorava assured him, as she laid the limp flitter out across her lap. "Green flitters are generally useless, though, don't be alarmed. Even when they do retain consciousness, they don't have a memory. They forget stuff just as fast as they learn it." For a moment, Dorava paused to wonder why both of her pets were so subdued seeming, in comparison to all their contemporaries.
"You've never ridden a dragon before?" Dorava asked, genuinely surprised. "How did you get here? Surely you didn't walk all that distance??" She asked. "Hang on ... and don't worry. Aonith is a superb flier." She assured the youth. "We'll be there in a jiffy." She tried to direct him in the best way to hang on. Especially with no harness on. "It's kinda like riding a runner. Only, a ridge to hang onto, instead of a mane." A runner that goes really fast, really high in the sky...
Aonith shifted her feet carefully on the stone, careful to not dislodge either of the people on her back as she turned around. And then she simply slid off the ledge and into the air, wings spreading wide. Like that, she glided over the canopy for a while, toward the tree where the Main hall was situated. Folding her wings, she dipped down beneath the canopy, and landed below on the landing, settling down to stretch out on her belly.
We're here! She announced, jovially, to both humans. Bring me something. she requested.
"Why, so you can have the loudest gut in the Weyr? I don't think so." Dorava answered. Her tone was not scolding, but it was not quite laughing either. It was harder to climb out of the deep pit than that, though the efforts of her dragon to help were not missed.
Who am I looking up? Aonith asked, curiously. I need more than just ... 'somebody' ... She turned her gaze on Rulven with interest. Lose a friend of yours?
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Post by rii on Oct 19, 2009 7:57:40 GMT -5
Nothing wrong with that, Rulven thought with a crooked grin. He did little more than eat and sleep himself, once in a while put to manual labor. He really should start working at whatever forge they had at the Weyr. Rulven had not even taken a gander at it yet, a bit put off doing such work ever since his arrival. Candidacy kept him busy enough. Beside, working alone never appealed to him, but if what Dorava said was true about there being another smith–from Hyphen even!–well, Rulven would definitely have to visit.
Rulven lightly set his hands on either side of Dorava as the green took off, his mind on others things (such as the ground below) that he didn't immediately respond to the greenrider's words. It still amazed him how effortlessly dragons could glide through the air. They were so big yet graceful. The childlike wonder would wane over time, but Rulven had little interaction with the large beasts. They made him nervous. Not often did Rulven find himself dwarfed by something else, and being the sentient creatures they were, it was more of someone else.
Sliding off the side, Rulven bowed slightly to Aonith with one hand raised in the air. "Thank you. It was a very smooth flight." The questioning in his head made the smith stop moving, casting a somewhat nervous glance at Dorava before returning his hazel eyes to the green dragon. "I.. don't know.. who the other smith is. It's alright, you don't have to ask. I'm sure I'll bump into him sometime in the future."
Bowing again to the green, Rulven shuffled himself toward the dining hall–Dorava at his side instead of the smith leading the way. He made sure to match her pace instead of letting his long stride march the poor woman toward the–oooh, he could smell it. His stomach gave out an appreciative growl of longing. One of these days his metabolism was bound to slow down. "So, Dorava, tell me about yourself. How long have you been at Selenitas?" Because there was a bit of an accent on her words, though Rulven wouldn't call her on it. Albeit, Rulven's prejudice against the north was held against northern men.
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Post by dragon on Oct 21, 2009 16:22:46 GMT -5
Aonith rumbled in laughter as she settled to the ground, walking her front feet forward as she sank her belly to the ground. But she didn't bother them anymore as the two headed toward the hall. She turned her head to watch them, and then mused on who it was they were looking for, never minding that Dorava had left Mandyr sprawled out across her shoulders. The flitter either wouldn't fall off, or she would. Either way, Aonith doubted it would matter much to the flitter. Mandyr could sleep through anything but food. Which ... speaking of ... Aonith was surprised that the flitter wasn't awake yet, considering their current proximity to the main hall.
"I've been here a little over two years." Dorava answered, simply, before looking over at Rulven. She smiled a little bit, then, before shrugging. "I'm glad I came. I like it here. Aonith doesn't hardly remember anywhere else, now. Greens don't remember a whole lot, you know." Dorava poked her hands into her pockets, grateful that Val wasn't in either one. He often liked to hang out in her pockets, and whichever pocket he inhabited, she couldn't use at the time. "Dragon riding is different from anything else out there. If you impress, your life will never be the same again."
She pushed the door open when she reached it, and went into the hall with a deep breath. "Smells good." She commented, before grinning a bit at Rulven. "You sound hungry." She observed. "Anything you like best, or are you just a fan of food in general?"
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Post by rii on Oct 22, 2009 20:17:49 GMT -5
That was the second time she mentioned that little fact about greens, Rulven smiled nervously–was she trying to tell him something? The smith knew he could be rather dense at times, spacey at others. Two turns, that wasn't long at all. Rulven had the problem in thinking everyone had been born and raised at Selenitas. It rarely crossed his mind that transfers came in.. or rather, defects came south.
"Oh–I walked here, to answer your question." Before he had his head a bit preoccupied while flying on Aonith's back. "Came with one of the tithes. I wasn't a search candidate, so.. no dragon ride for me. If I do impress" And Rulven had his doubts. "I guess I'll have to get use to flying. Though I still like having my feet on the ground.. The Weyr being on these trees actually still makes me nervous despite I've had plenty of time to get use to it.. It strikes me as something that would be wholly unstable. But I guess if multiple dragons landing on the platforms doesn't break it, we're safe."
Too airy, above water–not a place for a smith. Perhaps he would never get use to it.
Inhaling deeply, Rulven grinned. Food something he knew, and knew well. "An avid fan." He patted his flat stomach. "I may not look it, but I'm always eating. The staff knows me by name and well.. know to chase me out as soon as possible. I fear I suffer from.. I don't know, but the firelizards around here seem to adore me. Anyway! Pick a table, I'll gather up some food–do you have something in mind?"
Pausing long enough for her to speak, Rulven quickly whisked off, gathering up a tray and loading it with various items available for the day. A little of everything, because if Dorava didn't like it, he would eat it. With a wide smile Rulven swept back to Dorava and set the tray between them. "Eat, eat. You look half-starved." And if the smith was good for anything, it was feeding hungry critters.
"So, tell me what it's like to be a dragonrider.. I don't think I am going to know first hand."
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Post by dragon on Oct 22, 2009 23:15:59 GMT -5
Dorava smiled briefly, at the sheer energy the youth had. Granted, she was still recovering, but he still made her feel old. "Ah ... something with meat in it." She shrugged, before finding herself a seat and sliding into it. He seemed awful eager to do something, so she let him. Normally she would have insisted on fetching her own meal ... but hey. Sometimes it was nice to have someone care. Okay. Maybe more than sometimes. That and she wasn't feeling terribly exuberant herself at the moment. Put all that must-defend-the-girl chivalrousness to use, eh?
She spent a moment looking at the veritable heap of food that Rulven brought back, eyebrows slowly ooching up her face. "You must be literally starving to death." She commented. "And no, I'm not starving. I had plenty to eat." Even if it was all liquid. She grinned a bit and picked out a meatroll to pull apart with her fingers.
"You walked here." she stated, simply, around a bite. "That's a long ways to walk." Dorava commented. "Though, I have to admit ... I haven't done a whole terrible lot of walking since I impressed wings. You gotta hand it to the dragons ... they know how to travel." She grinned a bit, before shrugging again. "Even if you didn't get searched ... there's a good chance you'll impress anyway. You're here, and that's nine tenths of the battle right there. Lots of dragons hatch out, and lots of dragons impress. I wouldn't worry about the flying thing, really. Once you get addicted, it's hard to quit." Dorava grinned at him again, before popping another bite in her mouth.
She nodded in agreement, though, to his comments on the structure. "I know what you mean. It took me a very long time to get used to it, myself. Strikes me as awfully flammable. Not to mention ... this whole place is wooden. From the tree holding it up to the timbers in the floor." She tapped her foot a bit for emphasis. "Feels like a thread trap, is what it is. I'm not terribly worried about how strong it is, though ... not much a tree as thick as a dragon can't hold up, after all. Not until it randomly dies, at any rate. Once it dies, you won't catch me in here." She grimaced a bit.
"Actually?" She laughed. "You do look like you eat a lot. But you look like you burn it as fast as you swallow it, too, rather than just packing on the pounds. You stay active, don't you? I mean ... like really active. What do you do, on a normal day?" Dorava asked, before jerking back and dropping her meatroll when a flash of green appeared in front of her and promptly occupied her section of the table. "Mandyr!" She scolded, before shoving the flitter aside. "Sharding menace is what you are." Dorava grumped, trying to pry her stolen roll out of the slavering flitter's paws.
"What's it like to be a dragon rider?" Dorava asked. "Well... it's busy, for one. When you're not fighting thread, or - worse - fighting off other dragonriders, you tend to stay busy taking care of your dragon. Some dragons will bathe themselves, but they all need bathed. And after that, they need oiled. Or their hide cracks when they go between. And I assure you, that's not pretty." She paused for thought, and then inhaled a bit. "It is a profession that gets your adrenaline going, that is for sure. However, there is another side to it, that makes it all worth it." She leaned on the table, looking dead at him. "The dragon. Never again can you feel lonely. Never again wonder where you are supposed to be, what you are suppose to do. It's a bond like no other, a love like no other." She sat back again. "And I can't imagine losing my dragon." Dorava paused, and then sighed with a shrug. "I'd prolly be one of those poor saps that commits suicide if she did die before me." she admitted, quietly.
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Post by rii on Oct 23, 2009 19:20:43 GMT -5
The look was a familiar one. People often didn't believe he could possible eat the equivalent of what currently filled the tray. He couldn't. But, he was sharing with Dorava and.. whatever draconic being wandered his way. Rulven countered her skeptical raise of brows with a carefree smile. He doubted she had much to eat, considering she had been bed-ridden with the plague-fever. The smith had spent plenty of time around the sick to know they weren't conscious enough most of the time to truly eat. A good lot of them look much like the walking dead when they got well enough to hold a conversation. "Look half-starved. So thin."
A simple nod given as Rulven seized the bread roll closest to him about to bite when he paused to comment to Dorava. "I like taking walks, so it wasn't too bad.. and I was in good company. If there weren't all these disappearances going on, I'd probably walk to the beach in my free time. Having a dragon would make it easier.." But then he'd start to feel too sloven. Rulven detested that sick, lazy feeling. The youth liked to be put to work. "Especially the betweening, I hear it's.. cold?"
Rulven had never actually talked to a dragonrider about the whole.. impressing and flying ordeal that came with the role–so he did have a few curious questions; albeit utterly naive since he was holdbred. The candidacy lessons only covered so much. Part of Rulven believed he didn't get all the information because the candidatemaster liked to hand out papers to read and.. the smith couldn't read.
Thread, another thing Rulven didn't know much about. "Isn't the south.. safe from thread fall.. ? And we are at the Weyr. I'd think we'd be mostly safe from that. Though, if there was an attack and they just set fire to the place.. " Not a good topic, but hard to avoid since they live in the time of war. "At the holds.. we're not all that effected by the war. The south more so ignorant to it.. I've heard more about the north and the war since coming here than I ever did back home. Worst we got were a few drunken northern sailors that came up the river to trade."
It made the smith smile to hear Dorava laugh. She needed more of that, in his opinion, but only wished he was a bit more of a jokster to help with the mood. "The usual assigned candidate chores," Rulven began to answer, not even blinking as the firelizard appeared–so use to their erratic appearances whenever he sat down to eat. Out of habit more than actual thought, Rulven retrieved another meatroll from the tray, broke it in half and held it out for green Mandyr. "I gather wood, a lot, basically go around playing the part of a pack beast to whoever needs a strong back."
He was partially tempted to ask if she had seen action in the war, but wisely decided to try and steer the topic to the more.. cheerier subjects. "Must be nice to have that unconditional love with you all the time." A soft smile crossed features as he placed a bit of meat and cheese into his bread roll. "I hear salamandyrs bond similarly to dragons?" Flits to a lesser degree, but Rulven couldn't help thinking maybe by reminding her of her two bonded mates.. of that complete devotion and affection.. would help to improve her mood. At least, he hoped until she brought up the matter of suicide. Reaching over, Rulven gently touched against her wrist. A non-verbal attempt to comfort her from such dark thoughts. He couldn't possibly imagine what it felt like to be bonded, nor the loss felt if that bond was severed.. but she still had Valiant and Mandyr.. and the people around her. She wasn't alone.
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Post by dragon on Oct 25, 2009 22:37:10 GMT -5
Dorava considered her arms for a bit, then shrugged and bit into her roll. "I guess I did lose some weight. Never fear ... I'm used to eating for two. I'll make it up quickly enough." She grinned a bit, before chewing thoughtfully. It occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't talk with her mouth full ... especially around other people. It was a bad example and showed her beasthold background stereotypically too well. She didn't normally do that. Well ... time to fix that, then. Swallowing before speaking again, she added: "I have a distinct attraction for food, too..."
"You like going to the beach?" Dorava asked. "Well, maybe I'll take you with me sometime. Aonith and I occasionally go, whenever we have time. And, well ... we have lots of time on our hands now." She shrugged. "The sun will prolly do me good, too." She looked at her arms again, and shrugged. "I lost a lot of color while sick, it seems." Dorava nibbled on her roll a bit, before looking at Rulven again. "Between? Yeah, it's cold. You don't want to go between without a jacket on, and insulated pants are sometimes a good idea, too. Between is cold enough to make a winter wind feel positively warm. Never never travel like that while wet, even if both ends are warm weather. It's a good way to catch ill." She cautioned. "I should take you between, so you know what it's like."
Dorava smiled softly at Rulven's questions. "No, actually. Weyrs need protecting just as much as anywhere else on Pern. Imagine if a cluster of thread fell onto a structure here? Or worse, into the hatching sands while they were laden with eggs? It would be awful. Wings follow the course of Threadfall ... they don't start at the Weyr and clear outward. Thread doesn't fall like that. Yes, we are in the South, and yes, the South is far more resistant to Thread. But that doesn't make it any less of a threat. About the only benefit being in the south gives us ... is the wild spaces. They are taken care of, more or less. But habitated spots? Weyrs, Holds, Seaholds ... the whole lot still need protected. Thread can still eat people, and their livestock, completely down to nothing. See?" She explained. "So even here, wings rise to Thread. But you do have a point about attacks. It's even happened before. Places set on fire. It... that was a mess." Dorava shook her head a tiny bit, remembering that particular attack. It had certainly been a mess. A painful one at that.
"The war, Rulven, is more between Weyrs and territory than the Holds. Especially here. The holds are pretty much ignored by the North. The two Northern Weyrs have to subdue Selenitas itself before they can even think of turning their attention toward the Holds. Just terrorizing the Holds for the shards of it doesn't make any sense, and they'd get nothing out of it. Especially since Selenitas is more or less mostly self sustaining. It's a territory game ... and Selenitas is far more involved in that game than any of the Holds are. That is how the southern Holds manage to get away with stuffing their heads in the sand ... and likely the only reasons why." It was sad, but true. Dorava didn't wish war to reach out and touch people, especially not those who had no hope of defending themselves.
"Don't hold yourself back to just being muscle, Rulven." Dorava cautioned. "Though you do have plenty of it to offer. You've a mind, too. Use it. Hone it. You need it, as does everyone else." She tapped her temple, giving him a serious look. "You're a thinker. Not everyone is. Anyone with two arms and legs can carry wood." She said, allowing Mandyr to ooch forward and hungrily grab the bit of roll to herself. Mandyr happily started ripping bits of it off with her jaws and pretty much swallowing the bites whole. Especially if it was a meat bite. Dorava couldn't help but laugh a bit at that. "You'll be her friend forever, now."
Dorava looked over at him, meeting his gaze, when he touched her arm. For a moment she was still and silent. But in the end she did smile a little bit in appreciation. Shifting over, she patted his hand with her other one. "I guess so. I can only imagine that it would be called the same for lack of ability to speak of the subtle nuances that make them different." Dorava said. "Mandyrs are intense ... sometimes even more intense than a dragon bond is." For one thing, they made their bondeds run all over the place like they thought they were the mandyrs themselves. Dragonriders didn't try to think they could fly, usually, when their dragons rose or chased. "In ... various ways. But at the same time, mandyrs ... they're not as smart as they think they are." This elicited a chirp of protest from her breastband, where Val was sitting. "Dragons, even greens, are smarter than 'mandyrs are." She nodded a bit, and nibbled on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "The bond is strong ... far stronger than a flitter. Flitters are the barest nibble. It's like... bonding a flitter is like tasting a snowflake. Bonding a dragon, or a mandyr ... it's like being buried alive in the avalanche." She had no idea if he'd understand that comparison, since he was Southern and likely had never seen a scrap of snow in his life. But it was the best she could think of. "Flitters are capable of going wild if their owner dies. Dragons and mandyrs both can't. Flitters can also abandon ship, if they are pressed hard enough to do so. Neither a dragon nor a mandyr will. They are with you until you die. The only thing mandyrs have in common to flitters, as per bondings, is the way in which they do it. If you've got food to feed them and are there, they will bond to you. Dragons don't do that."
She smiled again, and patted his hand again. "Don't look so worried. I am not going to drop dead any time soon." It was nice, though, to know that he cared. That ... that was a different feeling than anything she'd encountered before ... or at least for a very, very long time. And it was a good feeling, one she appreciated. It gave her a new spark on life, a new hope for humankind.
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Post by rii on Oct 28, 2009 15:29:06 GMT -5
Rulven's fingers made a nervous twitching, fiddling with the remainder of his roll before he popped it into his mouth–chewing slowly as to delay any form of response. If her manners were improper, the smith didn't take too much notice. They were eating after all, and he all but inhaled food, and he was glad the woman was even eating in the first place. Any lack of tact could easily be overlooked.
Chuckling, then slightly choking, Rulven swallowed and nursed a cup of water a moment before being able to reply. "The beach would be nice. I suppose you do have time to work on a tan," He mused in a half-teasing tone. Northerners, so pale, they seemed to quickly lose their color when out of the sun for too long. The notion of being taken between, however, momentarily sobered Rulven's thoughts. "Although I'm curious to experience this between, I'm afraid I don't have any leathers.. and no one really has any I can borrow."
Oh my, he was getting a lesson here at the table. Rulven didn't mind, and put on a smile to not dissuade Dorava from talking. A practiced listener, was he–nodding in the right places and occasionally throwing in noncommittal responses to encourage her to keep talking. Though when the tables turned a bit, and she somewhat complimented him, the smith oddly.. blinked at her. He accepted and was perfectly fine with being a bit of muscle meant to be put to use. People did not see him as a thinker as Dorava put it, so it was a touch odd to hear.
Snow? Avalanche? He knew what snow was–never seen it, but knew the word. But avalanche? He figured something of a rockslide, but with snow. The smith nudged a bit more meat over to the green flitter while listening to Dorava's explanation. "I've just been told to no impress a salamandyr since I'm a candidate. Er, though I have seen some weyrlings and wherlings with them.." A lofty shrug before another bit of food disappear to the ever hungry smith.
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be giving you a look if I am," The smith chuckled, sheepish expression and eyes that fled for the briefest of moments. He couldn't stop himself from being empathetic with others, especially women. Faranth forbid what would happened if he ever made one cry. "You just look so distraught. Give you a hug if I knew you better–" He attempted humor to take the edge off his serious tone. He had already had his hands slapped, metaphorically, for being a nice guy. It didn't make sense to him to treat everyone as if they were potential enemies, or just pawns to be used. Made for such a lonely existence..
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Post by dragon on Oct 29, 2009 15:07:01 GMT -5
Dorava laughed, and sat up straighter. "Don't be silly. There are plenty of sets of flight gear in the Weyr sitting around for just those reasons. There are people that need to ride that aren't riders themselves, you know. Up to and including new Candidates. We can drop by the Searchrider's place and pick up a jacket. I'm sure they'd have at least one big enough for you." Dorava nodded. "They won't mind - it's what it's for. And you are a Candidate - even if you never got your initiation ride."
Mandyr lept onto the new piece of meat and started gnawing on it happily, the side of her little flitter face pressed into the surface of the meat as she chewed a chunk off, both front feet clinging to it like she thought it was going to get up and run away without her. Though she was a little green that started out pretty round, as she stuffed more into her, she really started to take on a ball-like appearance between sets of legs.
"Not to impress a mandyr." Dorava repeated, thoughtfully. For a moment she was silent, before turning her head to stare off across the room. "Alright. I think I know where that's coming from. I wouldn't have thought of it myself, though. It can be done ... but yeah, I think it takes some control. Baby dragons, and what not." She shrugged. "I dunno. I don't call the shots around here. You can I think ... but ... yeah, prolly not a good idea. But as far as these things go? Sometimes you don't decide to have a pet. A pet decides to have you. You know?"
A hug? Dorava smiled at him. "You don't want to do that ... you might get what I got." Dorava pointed out. Though she was flattered. Despite how young he was, she would have randomly dragged him over and smooched on him if it wasn't for that threat. She didn't want to kill him with a kiss, after all. The things he said just made her happy again, picking her up out of the dismal depths that she'd been dutifully marching around in for turns upon turns. The idea that there were still people out there that weren't hardnosed killers, people who cared for other people ... it was an awesome, euphoric feeling.
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Post by rii on Nov 1, 2009 23:38:29 GMT -5
Flight gear, in his size? Rulven kind of had doubts, but.. he'd take Dorava's word for it. If anything, it was still nice of her to offer to help him out. It didn't seem like something other riders would do. Not that it bothered the smith. He knew they had their own agenda's to tend to, and if he really had a dire question in need of answering he could simply talk with the candidate master.
Absently Rulven had one hand out, rubbing the pot-bellied flitter that looked on the verge of slipping back into the comatose sleep. Utterly oblivious, Rulven glanced at the woman as she spoke.. oddly, seeming to skip over bits of dialogue as if with disjointed thoughts. "What can be done?" Control over what, Rulven's brown furrowed slightly. As far as pets went, he figured if candidates, weyrlings, wherlings would just stay away from the hatchlings like they were suppose to.. It's not hard to follow rules.
Shrugging, Rulven pulled his hands back, folding both arms on the table. For a rare moment actually full. He'd give it a couple hours before he felt another hunger pange. "I think I already got whatever was going around. Nothing more than a headcold for me.. and since then I've been working in the infirmary, so really, whatever it was, it's gone and past for me. And I really don't think I am going to catch anything from a hug." Considering he had been carrying the bodies of those that had died from the plague, yes, Rulven felt very assured he was not going to fall sick any time soon. He always had a strong immune system.
Smiling at Dorava, Rulven tilted his head to the side to regard her expression a little better–maybe a hint of casual teasing as he spoke. "You're looking brighter." Making people happy was so much better than trying to tear them down. The look on Dorava's face was priceless. "That or you are really enjoying the food."
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Post by dragon on Nov 3, 2009 12:39:47 GMT -5
Mandyr rolled over onto her back, ignoring the food for a change in favor of the rubbing she was getting. With a burbly chirp, she laid there with her legs sticking up in the air in a very relaxed fashion. Dorava only laughed, and smiled at Rulven. "You want to keep her? I think she loves you." She giggled, even though it was impossible to give her flitter away. "I never spoil her that much..." Of course, it was kind of hard to spoil something that spent most of its time asleep. Dorava had originally thought it was a baby phase, but apparently not. Mandyr was just as fat and sleepy now as she had been the day she hatched. She couldn't help but think that if she'd been wild, Mandyr would have long since been something's lunch. As it was, sleeping on Aonith's head like some strange hat had kept her more or less safe from big things with teeth and hollow bellies.
"Impressing a mandyr as a Candidate. Some of them have done it, successfully. Granted, some also manage to create quite a stir in the process..." Dorava shrugged. "All things are possible, you know. Just ... not always probable." Resting an elbow on the table, she proceeded to tear apart a veggie roll ... she wasn't particularly fond of veggies, but she was aware that if she was going to get healthy ... and stay that way ... she needed to eat them. Regardless of how hideous she thought they tasted. Fruit she liked far better.
She looked at Rulven in silence for a moment, before nodding slightly. Doing all that ... he had to have an immune system that beat all. Which was good to know. The strong lived, making the population in general stronger. "I can't imagine that ... carrying people out like that." She looked at him. "You've got to have far more than a resistance... but a rock solid emotional grounding, too." It was awfully tempting to go ahead and hug him ... he sure sounded like he wanted to get hugged, the way he was talking. Finally, unable to resist, Dorava gave in and did just that. She leaned over and gave him a big hug, just cause it felt good.
"Yeah ... really enjoying the food." She laughed.
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Post by rii on Nov 3, 2009 13:16:41 GMT -5
Rulven smiled, almost sadly with a touch of amusement directed at himself. His hazel eyes dropped down to the green flitter, content to make her happy–critters were always easy to placate. Much to similar to himself in a way the chose to live a simple life. A soft chuckle came at Dorva's jest. "I wouldn't mind having one of my own, but to be honest.. I feel like I have partial ownership to most of the ones around the Weyr as is." Certainly enjoyed their company more than he did salamandyrs. Those were so rude and insulting.
Speaking of mandyrs.. Rulven gave Dorava a rather blank look, still not understanding the idea behind her words. Of course candidates and the like could do it successfully–impressing to one of the little loud ones, that is. All Rulven got from his lesson had been don't do it or you might lose your candidacy, or if you are bonded to a baby dragon/wher, it would hurt them. The smith couldn't help but feel the lessons were directed a touch more toward those more familiar with the ways of the Weyr. That or, Rulven didn't pay that much attention. He had never had a former education beforehand..
"Don't imagine it," Rulven joked with a lopsided grin. Most of that work was done and over with, and the smith would not waste time reflecting on it. He really did keep things simple for his own well being. Wouldn't do for him to think about who had been those that had died–the loved ones and friends they likely had left behind. Living in the past was not acceptable.
Oh. Rulven blinked momentarily in surprise. He had been the one tempted to hug Dorava, not the other way around. A bit awkward in his seated position near her. One arm curled around her small frame (to him, nearly everyone was smaller) and returned her hug more properly. His own a friendly embrace, warm like the forge itself. He patted gently at her mid-back before lightly teasing. "Glad I could help, you know, dragging you here to eat if food makes you that happy."
The smith eased back, "Anything else I can do for you?" Aside from food and a hug, Rulven figured he had done his best to ease her inner pair–if only for a short while. Bad memories had the tendency of worming their way back to ruin a future day. So content himself, because he had made Dorava happy (or so she seemed, Rulven couldn't tell the difference), the smith couldn't help but smile warmly at the woman. "Heh, babysit your pot-bellied paper weight maybe?"
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Post by dragon on Nov 4, 2009 0:02:38 GMT -5
Dorava nodded, watching also as her flitter basically passed out from ecstasy. "You're good with them, apparently. You be careful around hatchings ... you might end up with a fair as big as R'wign's. How he keeps up with so many flitters, I dunno. Maybe they keep up with him, instead." She mused. "But eventually you'll end up with some sort of pet. It seems you can't hardly get away without one. I mean ... look at me. I've only been in the South, what? Two turns? And I have two pets of my own already. I didn't have any, when I came here." She promptly and suddenly reached down the front of her own shirt, digging out Val. The little half-blue half-white mandyr squeaked with shocked protest as he landed with a 'plop' on the tabletop.
Valiant scampered to the edge of the table and dived over the edge to land on her lap and scamper around and into her pocket. Dorava only laughed, amused. "He's shy. Rather unusual in a mandyr... but at least he's not mean. Or vicious." She looked up just in time to see his blank look, and gave him one right back. What -? He looked confused. But over what? Which only confused her. Finally she just blinked and tilted her head, curiously, watching him.
Dorava laughed again, and relaxed a bit, resting her head on his shoulder. "Naw. It's not the food so much. Though it was good to eat solid food again. You make good company." Offering a smile, she patted his back in return. "But if that's an offer, I won't refuse!" she remarked, partially teasing and partially serious. Having someone who was easy to talk to and nice to be around was not something she was going to throw away lightly ... especially not if he was offering to take meals with her again. It was nice, the good company.
She laughed again at his next comment, as well. "You can babysit all my paperweights if you want. Any time you want." She giggled, the idea of all her draconics as paperweights. Mandyr made a fine example, but Aonith failed to see what was so funny. "This pot bellied paperweight might need watching, too ... " she joked, referring to herself. She felt a little strange - or at least different. It was a hard thing to put a finger on, and made her suspect the food had been spiked with something. It really wasn't the food, though. Other than the endorphins it was dumping into her system, on top of the already unusual condition of being happy for once.
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