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Post by dragon on May 21, 2011 18:32:39 GMT -5
At first glance, you'd think a dragon had randomly gorged itself and then decided to sleep it off in the massive pen-pasture-whatever that kept all the livestock in and happy. But it wasn't entirely true. Not quite. Riavorth had gorged herself... thus the distended belly reaching for the sky. And she was almost asleep there on the ground, head resting on her front feet.
But it wasn't random at all. For she was protecting something very precious to her. Namely; hers. Inside of the semi-circle that was Riavorth was Orena, parked in the grass singing happily to herself. She loved company, but didn't need company to be happy. She also loved to sing, but also didn't need words to do so. So she sang a wordless song, trying out her voice in all the directions she could make it go. All while weaving a bunch of strands of grass and stems together into an intricate ring about crown-big.
It was fall, sure. But there were some flowers that bloomed into fall. And she had gathered some to blend together. But that wasn't all she was up to either. Part of why she was where she was, and why Riavorth was where she was, was because of what was laying next to Orena.
She had managed to catch one of the late foals, and it was sleeping on the ground against her thigh, head in her lap. It hadn't exactly been easy, but she'd had a loooot of energy to burn off. And a lot of time to kill too. But ... even that said and done, the mother wasn't exactly happy with the situation either.
Babies, furry babies. Flowers, pretty flowers. Song and sing! Orena was happy. Well ... almost. Some part of her still wished that her sister was still around. It was so bothersome to have to braid her own hair after all. And have no one to talk to ... and no one to get into things with ... it was just so loooneeeelllyyyy~
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Jun 4, 2011 14:19:55 GMT -5
I love you. A bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap. A barrel and a heap and I'm talking in my sleep about yooouu. That makes no sense. About you. Cause I love you, a bushel and a peck. You bet yer purty neck I do. I don't imagine it's altogether pretty. Doodooloodledodo, a doodleloodleoodledoo.
Will you stop this already? The man who could never be accused of having a sense of humor was pushing paperwork. Part of the job. Especially with H'nes in charge. H'nes was almost as old-fashioned as Ur'h himself, which meant everything by the book, including regular written reports and bother. Why his dragon thought it was a good time to sing nonsense in his head was beyond him.
Ykkith circled above the feeding grounds curiously upon seeing the young green coiled there like she was having a tea party with the herdbeasts. Ignoring Ur'h, he continued his song, extending it to include the dragon and rider below. I love you. A bushel and a peck. A bushel and a peck and you make my heart a wreck. I do no such thing. You make my heart a wreck and you make my life a mess. How? Make my life a mess, oh yes a mess of happiness about yooouu. Are you even capable of making sense? Cause I love you, a bushel and a peck, you bet your purty neck I dooo. My. Neck. Is. Not. Pretty.
So conceited, Mine. Who said I was singing to you? Obviously I was serenading this lovely young green attempting to be a herdbeast. She really isn't doing a good job of blending in, you know, Ykkith added cheerfully, still including Orena and Riavorth in his broadcast. No herdbeast could ever hold a candle. That is the phrase, is it not? Herdbeast do not have hands to hold anything and why should she be attempting to be a herdbeast? I don't know. Shall we ask her? Why are you attempting to be a herdbeast my beautiful jewel? Is she a dragon, a herdbeast or a jewel? Must we limit ourselves to only one designation. She can be a dragon and a jewel at the same time.
As Ykkith landed with a gallant sleep of his wings and a flirtatious arc of his neck, Ur'h pushed aside the papers in frustration. (Scribing was women's work, too, shardit.) That is not possible. Why don't you come to see for yourself? Mine will be along shortly to see the glorious jewel dragon, Ykkith announced to the pair cheerfully. Please do not be too terribly disappointed if he's not much to look at. I promise, he is quite fun to confuse. Will you shut up? Of course I will not shut up, Ur'hMine. Who could be silent around such beauty? It would be a crime.
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Post by dragon on Jun 16, 2011 1:08:43 GMT -5
Riavorth lifted her head to look upward at the sound of a dragon's voice speaking to her. the sound of the words also stopped Orena and silenced her, her own gaze turning upward as she sought out the circling dragon that was doing the serenading. Finally, Orena laughed aloud. "Isn't that cute?!" She decided. "Doesn't make a lot of sense, but then twitterpated folk don't usually, do they?" Orena commented, mostly just to Riavorth.
Riavorth exhaled sharply, not quite hard enough to be a snort. I think that one's too old to know what twitterpated is anymore. She commented privately. Why? Because I felt like it I guess. Riavorth answered him, just to be contrary. No, she wasn't exactly the most agreeable dragon - or the wittiest of the lot either. Completely contrary to Orena, who loved to be agreeable and was sharper than she let on to be.
Orena laughed again. "Oh, don't be like that." She stroked the head of the foal that was next to her, tempted to jump to her feet. But if she did that, it would startle and run away. Its mother was no where to be seen anymore, frightened off by not only one, but now two dragons. She fondled its ears thoughtfully, adoring the shape and feel of them. It earned her a broken squeaky neigh, but it didn't get up.
Riavorth's semi sour mood at being intruded upon while she was resting was starting to cave under the flattery the old dragon was laying upon her. She lifted her head a little higher, arching her neck. He'd compared her to a jewel! She was glorious! It was enough to make her want to preen. How astute of you to notice. she answered, not at all immune to the show he was putting on, admiring his gallant landing. Style like that took some age to perfect.
That and he'd invented such a long, nice song. Professing to already love her! Was she really looking all that grand so much, laying here stuffed like a toad? Riavorth flicked her tail to the side. Why would yours not be much to look at? Is he practicing looking like a herdbeast too? she questioned, as Orena decided to climb to her feet after all, draping a flower ring over the foal's ear to dangle down the side of his head.
"Now you stay here." She said in a stage whisper, patting him one last time on his poll before dancing nimbly out past Riavorth to get a good look at their visitor. "My my my!" She said, reaching up to finger the wreath haphazardly braided into her own hair. It wouldn't come off at all, being integrated. "Aren't you a handsome looking fellow!"
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Jul 1, 2011 0:36:03 GMT -5
It is hardly astute when a blind wherry should notice as much, Ykkith responded in the same vein as he meant to continue, ignoring the sharpness of her earlier retort. Females often pretended to be harder to speak to and/or flatter than they actually were. He suspected that it had something to do with a desire to appear to be less easy to charm.
Ykkith didn't bother hiding his amused rumble or the quickened whirl of the calm colors in his eyes. No, no. Mine does not care to play games like that. He is much too serious. The adjective was stated as if it were a negative thing. Could this dragon be almost as literal as His was? How delightful! The brown so did love those dragons who made it easy for him to play with them, yes he did.
Mine simply is not very attractive to humans as I understand it. He doesn't even do us the courtesy of being ugly enough to be interesting. Just old and wrinkly. I think someone left him in the water too long, Ykkith concluded at the equivalent of a dragon stage whisper to Riavorth and Orena both. His comments at the expense of His now discharged, he could refocus his attention on the girl who had emerged with flowers in her hair.
Ykkith shifted in place a little, resettling his wings in what was clearly meant to be a visual expression of modesty. Oh, no, my dear two-legged. It is you who are ravishing. You must be a special creature indeed, to be growing a garden out of your head. How do you make your scalp so fertile? Ykkith dipped his head enough to nudge at Orena, before adding to Riavorth, If I had known creatures like Yours were possible, I would have waited to be Hatched a good twenty turns for my shot at one.
By that time Ur'h had arrived on scene and was staring at Orena like she was a creature from beyond the Red Star. The lean man in his late forties looked every bit his age (and then some). Then his eyes traced over Riavorth and he turned to Ykkith. "She is not a jewel, just as I said. Why must you persist on telling lies?" It is a metaphor, Mine. It means she is as beautiful as a jewel. "That's a simile." Metaphors stand for similes. Ur'h rubbed at his temple, then shrugged.
The wingleader returned his attention to Orena. "Isn't it...uncomfortable...to grow flowers out of your head?" (For a supposedly logical man, Ur'h certainly did accept these impossibilities all too readily.)
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Post by dragon on Jul 1, 2011 21:42:01 GMT -5
Riavorth blinked, not entirely sure how to take his comment. A blind wherry seeing something. How, exactly, was that supposed to work? Of course she fully understood what he meant by it, but his analogy was a tad ... unusual. I suppose. she conceded, deciding to just agree with the silly old coot. But she eyed him anyway, since hers was standing so very near him. In just perfect chomping range - hers really was too trusting!! It really worried her sometimes.
Oh, is that all? Ugly people have their place in the world too, I suppose. They help to point out the lovely people more obviously. Riavorth answered, tactfully failing to mention that she rather thought hers was one of said lovely people. I guess him being left in the water too long is what you get for letting someone else play with yours without also giving them the user manual for proper cleaning and care. Riavorth suggested, amused.
"Have you tried blowing on him to dry him out again?" Orena asked, after giggling, also using a stage whisper, hands cupped around her mouth for full effect as she leaned toward the dragon's snout. But then she dropped her hands and patted on the bridge of his snout, scratching a bit here and there. "How?" She giggled, and shook her head. "It's a secret." She warned, with a grin and a wink. "Only special kinds of people can do it, after all!"
Which only earned a long-suffering snort and a draconic eye-roll from Riavorth. Mine and my other mine do that all the time. Or did. She answered, not exactly sure how to classify the difference between the two twin girls. Isori was her 'other mine'. 'Tis what you get for being impatient! She offered in jest. Get old sooner, miss out on the good stuff at the bottom of the pond, all that.
Orena straightened suddenly at the sound of a human voice, and whirled around to look at U'rh. "Oh, hello!" She greeted, before she quite registered the expression on his face. Which earned him a bright grin. "Oh, but you have no idea the various and sundry styles a jewel can come in!" She offered with a wink.
"Uncomfortable? Why would such a natural thing as blooming be uncomfortable? Was puberty painful for you or something? Wait, don't answer that." Orena hastily cautioned. "Why, no! It's quite easy actually." She grinned again, more than willing to play along with this silly idea that both dragon and rider had about garden hairdos. It really was funny! "If you want, I can show you how, even." She offered.
Oh, here we go. Riavorth groaned and flopped a forefoot over her eyes. Say no. Please say no.
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Jul 5, 2011 18:22:14 GMT -5
Perhaps. Though it may be best not to mention to the ugly ones that they exist solely to make the pretty ones look even prettier. Wouldn't want to hurt their feelings, the older brown commented dryly. As to her other statement...though he could tell she was attempting to make a joke, he had no clue what a user manual might be. It might help if he knew the meaning of the word 'manual'. Or could think of who would want to use His.
The brown was quickly coming to the conclusion that even if Riavorth was a rather odd creature, he very much liked Hers. She had something of a sense of humor which might make her an excellent partner in crime. Ykkith was always searching for such partners. It was only so fun, messing with people and dragons, when there was no one else around to enjoy it.
I see. So it is not so unusual as all that, then. And that is a saying of the humans that I do not quite understand. I have swum in a good number of ponds and I do not recall anything particularly good at the bottom of them unless you like moss and silt. They say that it is easier to grow things in silt, though...is that your secret? Sprinkling silt on their heads? It amused him to keep the joke up, particularly since the green seemed to believe that he actually thought flowers could grow out of the head of humans.
Then again, why not? Ur'hHis clearly believed as much.
"Sundry," Ur'h was repeating just at this moment, a little blankly. How else would a jewel dry? Why did it need to be mentioned if there were no other ways for one to dry? Such queer people, who used unnecessary adjectives...The man had just opened his mouth to respond to her question when he shut it again at her directive, looking very much like he was being overwhelmed by her sudden flood of verbiage. Which was not very far from the truth.
Eyeing her skeptically, the man shook his head after a moment. "No thank you. I don't really want to grow flowers out of my head. They'd be squished every time I put on a helmet to go riding." If only he were joking. If only. I don't think it would hurt anything if you were to demonstrate your unique skill on Mine, Ykkith interjected. I trust that it does not require a special kind of scalp? Mine is not terribly special, you see.
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Post by dragon on Jul 12, 2011 15:08:45 GMT -5
Riavorth snorted. Who cared what the ugly ones thought or felt? But in retrospect ... since the brown's rider was one of the ugly ones ... of course he would want to protect the feelings of the ugly ones. So she tactfully neglected to comment aloud on her thoughts in the matter. But she snorted again at the concept of moss and silt being at the bottom of ponds. I've never seen moss at the bottom of a pond. I wonder what ponds you've been swimming in! No, I don't sprinkle them with silt ... I have green thumbs. She rolled her front feet over until the thumb-equivalent digit was sticking straight up on both of them. Of course, they were naturally green ... she was green all over!
"Put a helmet on ... oh my goodness. You mean you actually use that thing?" Orena asked, feigning shock. Naturally, she used hers too ... it was hard to not, when the wind made some of the worst snarls in her hair she'd ever encountered in her whole life! She twisted her fingers in her own hair for a moment, feigning thoughtfulness before looking at Ykkith and grinning crookedly. "You think so, huh? Don't worry, it doesn't take a special scalp. Yours can have flowers too, no worries." And then she broke into a stage whisper, cupping her hand on the wrong side of her mouth as she spoke to the brown. "You might have to hold him down for me, though. I suspect he doesn't want to try anything half so fun as growing flowers!"
Riavorth held her position for a moment as she listened to the exchanges. And then she groaned a dragon-groan and dropped her snout into her upturned forefeet, grumbling into the soil there about all the woes she was beleaguered by. Hers was going to have a man's own dragon sit on him so she could braid flowers into his hair ... which he didn't want. What was the world coming to? Somehow, Riavorth did not think that forcing happy hairdos on unhappy people was a good idea. Especially not when they were ... those people.
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