Another restless night (Req

[dragon]

Hate! Hatehatehatehatehate!! Love protested loudly, scrambling away from Dorava as fast as she could go. But when one was only a few inches big, and the folds in a rumbled bed-fur were more than that much high ... it wasn't easy.

Dorava flicked a corner of the fur up and over, and clapped a bowl down on where she hoped Love would be. "Don't be such a twerp! It's not like I'm asking you to do something like share." She countered aloud, tipping up the bowl to peek underneath.

That was all Love needed though, and she came shooting out the other end of the folded fur while Dorava was distracted with the bowl. No smell like flower! Flower bad! Who want smell like plant genital?! she squalled as the bowl slammed down horribly close to her tail again. Tucking her tail up over her back, she scurried faster. Leaping and flapping her tiny wings, she crested a four-inch fold and flopped on the other side.

Where Dorava managed to catch her in a cupped hand. "You make it sound so gross when you describe it that way." She protested, wrapping her fist around the mandyr and picking her up. Pulling a different bowl over - this one filled with shelled nuts and chocolate bits - she popped a few pieces into her mouth as she stared at the little glaring face that she found poking out between a few of her fingers.

Is gross. Love reinforced.

"Well, to make you happy, it's not flowers. It's only floral oil. It should make your itchies go away. Medicinal properties, see?" Dorava answered as she leaned over and reached for the rag in question.

Hate! Hatehatehatehate!! Worse! Plant genital JUICES!!! Love wriggled, but was caught too firmly to get away.

To her luck and Dorava's shocked surprise, the door to the hall opened as of its own accord. In a flash the 'mandyr was dropped - and Love vanished into the darkest recesses under the dresser. Just as fast the bowl of nuts and soft chocolate candies were upended and flung across the room at the figure coming in through the door at head level. Anything for a distraction while she bought time to gather up something more formidable as a weapon.

Nobody ever came into her weyr, much less unannounced and in the wee hours of the night!

[Requiem]

It was late when the brownrider left his weyr, padding along with only a slight limp despite the fact that he was using a cane. He'd indulged in a good wash and a few moments beside the small beds of his children, simply watching them sleep, after his infirmary shift. In fact, he'd taken a quick catnap there as well, falling asleep sitting up against Behruth's flank. (What with his working through the latter part of the evening, the kids' beds had been moved to right beside the brown's couch so that the dragon could watch over them while they slept.)

The man took after Ka'rys in more ways than simply being small, paranoid and good with blades, though. He rarely slept for long periods of time at once. Six straight candlemarks was unusual. So it was that he woke up a couple hours after coming off shift feeling altogether not terribly sleepy. Devotion let out a little yawn from his post curled up on the top of Terilyn's bedpost. Playtime? he questioned His. M'ta just smiled slightly and stretched, noting that Sneak, too, was stirring. He seemed to have a radar for any 'mandyr activity.

Stroking his hand along Ruth's flank, he got up and kissed the foreheads of both children; Behruth would take care of them. The brownrider had many friends. E'rro. T'san. Merridan. Er'ani. Jazzy. Even Rulianna and Erilena. But most of those people slept at night like sane riders did. Erilena was nocturnal, granted, but she also had a husband who didn't like M'ta much, so...that really just left a relatively new friend, who should be on her break between infirmary shifts.

Faranth knew M'ta had little enough opporunity to spend time with any of his many friends. Merridan he'd stolen to help him with weyrlings and he still occasionally dropped in on Erilena. E'rro he saw in the infirmary. Jazheera and Ruliana sometimes at lunch. Work was always dominating his schedule, though. Dorava he saw on shift and very rarely she helped him with scribe work since his handwriting was near illegible. (He spent most of his time with E'rro, though, seeing as how the men were close buddies and he rarely got other opportunities.)

So it was that it was to Dorava's door that he made his way, cane touching the ground softly. He almost didn't use it, so little weight did he put on the cane. His leg was healing quite well. Dark hair tousled from sleep, dark eyes half-lidded from that half-warm lazy feeling that comes from a good rest, a Sneak coiled about his bare bicep and a Devon perched on his shoulder and batting at the gold loop in his ear, M'ta paused outside her door. The sleeveless shirt and cotton pants made it clear he hadn't bothered to change from his sleeping clothes. He cocked his head slightly to one side, then decided he didn't want to disturb her neighbors by knocking. M'ta reached out a hand and tried the door.

It swung open easily. He stepped inside, just opening his mouth for a greeting when the figure on the other side of the room suddenly surged into action and threw something at him. M'ta threw up an arm before his face to protect his eyes as Sneak vacated his arm with a surprised squeak, flying swiftly about the room before settling high on a shelf and ruffling his wings in irritation. What was that all about?

Devon, conversely, had scurried along the length of the brownrider's arm and slashed at the approaching nuts with a threatening growl. Go 'way! He speared a bit of chocolate with his wicked looking spines, puffing up in victory. One enemy destroyed! "It's just me, Dorava," M'ta stated quickly, before she could attack him in a more substantial manner than nuts and chocolate bits. "Didn't want to wake the neighbors." There was just a note of apology behind the words. He hadn't meant to startle her.

(One would think he'd have learned by now that entering other people's weyrs unannounced usually resulted in similar reactions. But most of his other friends were already used to his queer habits.)

[dragon]

Half way to where she had stashed something more defensible than a bowl of nuts she actually got a look at who it was in her door. It drew her up short just as M'ta made his statement. Stopping short she relaxed almost as quickly as she had leaped into action. "Oh, M'ta." She said, somewhat sheepishly. "You ... ah. Startled me." Okay, maybe she should have locked the door. But given that she'd only just come through it and would have been headed back out not too many candlemarks later ... she hadn't seen the point.

Maybe she ought to rethink that.

She offered an apologetic smile as she invited him in. "Sorry for the mess." Nevermind most of that was scattered around where he'd been assaulted in the doorway. Hate!! Love added from under the drawers. "That ... uh. Was thoughtful of you. I guess. I mean ..." she was flustered, not entirely sure what to do or say. But she did push the door shut again as she bent to pick up the flung bowl. The nuts would have to be picked up too, but probably not right now.

"I - is there something you needed?" She asked, belatedly realizing that there had to be a reason why he'd just randomly turn up in the middle of the night like that. This was certainly the first time she'd ever had a guest though, at least one that hadn't been looking to start something nasty anyway.

Aonith lifted her head from her front feet and blinked sleepily at the sudden visitor. Really the only reason she was awake at all was because Dorava had been startled. Even so she was having a hard time waking up in the dark of the night. Dragons just weren't meant to be awake at this hour, really really. Blinking again the green looked around at the activity in the glowlight. Lifting her nose she blew at the little flier that was zooming around before resting her head on her front feet again with a low croon of greeting to M'ta. She would probably be out like a light here soon if something didn't happen to keep her awake.

[Requiem]

Yes, he'd rather noticed that he'd startled her. Normally he would have moved immediately to help her clean the mess he'd contributed to off the floor, but it was more than just a little inconvenient (not to mention uncomfortable) on a broken leg not fully healed. "Don't apologize for that," M'ta responded, laughter behind his voice if not actually laughing. "If you'd startled me I wouldn't be apologizing for my reaction. Nuts and chocolate is creative?"

He entered and made himself comfortable on the couch, watching the flustered woman with her bowl and discarded snack foods for a few moments. Her question caught him a little off-guard. (It really shouldn't have, considering most people didn't get visits around midnight unless something was wrong. This was M'ta, though. He didn't even notice how strange his visit might seem.) "No particular reason? I just woke up from my nap. I know you and Erilena are awake right now, and I don't visit Erilena unless Feyrianth tells Behruth that her husband's out. We don't get along." The response was given matter-of-factly, as if it were the most logical conclusion ever to come visit Dorava at this time simply because he was awake. Well, it was. To him.

By now, Devon had come to realize that His was not being threatened as he first thought, and now a new mission presented itself. He'd heard another salamandyr. (This also hadn't escaped Sneak, who had immediately changed positions to one where he might catch a better view of her under the dresser.) The blue - a piece of chocolate still attached to one of his spines - dropped to the ground and approached the other with a friendly croon, though his approach was slow and could even be described as a touch tentative. Who is?

M'ta made himself at home on Dorava's couch, swinging his legs up onto the couch and crossing his legs, lacing his hands behind his head. He wiggled his bare toes with a content expression on his face. Clearly still in that nice just-awoken state. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I? Didn't figure you had enough time to get too busy between your shifts, but if you want to take a nap or something just tell me; you won't hurt my feelings."

[dragon]

Dorava didn't know what to do. This just... wasn't anything she'd dealt with before, and certainly hadn't expected. "Creative?" She asked, glancing at the bowl. With a foot she scraped the worst of the nuts aside. She didn't give it too much effort. It was the wrong time of night to go on a compulsive cleaning spree. But getting them out from under foot was a good idea, especially since M'ta wasn't too sound on his feet yet. They could wait there by the wall until she got around to picking them up again. The chocolate was done for, too covered in the inevitable grit of any given floor to be even remotely pleasant anymore. But the nuts she probably would dust off and eat anyway. Eventually. "Well ... it's what I had at the time?" She confessed as she moved to take a seat herself. Settling onto her furs she tucked her ankles up under her thighs in a crosslegged position as she watched M'ta. Goodness, he looked so comfy. Like he did this rather regularly.

"Oh." Dorava answered when he supplied why he'd turned up in her weyr. That seemed to make more sense to her. He was here cause everyone else was busy or otherwise occupied. Oddly enough she seemed to be a better hostess when invading someone else's space than in her own. Ironic as that was. But even in understanding that she was the last default choice in visitation, she was still shocked that she'd got a visit at all. She was still scrambling to catch up - thus all normal civilities were still crawling back in the window.

Love. You funny. Love answered, creeping forward from where she'd been balled in the very back corner. Sniffing the strange new mandyr first on the snout, she worked her nose all the way to where that bit of chocolate was, which also got a sniff. Wrinkling her snout up, she showed a bit of tooth for the expression. Why nasty sticky adornment? she inquired. As long as she stayed under here, she was pretty sure that that other one out there couldn't get her. So for the moment she ignored him and his staring eyes.

"Um ... well ... no, not really. I was only trying to oil Love. Nothing overly important." Dorava shrugged, though she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head at his suggestion of a nap. There was no way she'd be sleeping while anyone was in her weyr. It was too unusual a phenomenon to be slept through. "I'm just ... surprised is all." She finally admitted, for lack of anything else to do or say.

It really was sad when a body was so adjusted to bad things happening that it was rote to deal with them. That she knew just what to do, whatever it was. Whether it was run or fight or fix or ... whatever needed done at the time. But when something non-hostile happened, she lost all her marbles. How backward was that? It was not a good omen for the times, that was for sure.

Some semblance of sanity returned to her, and she realized it. "Uh ... I don't have any klah, but I've got juice?" She offered belatedly. Annnd ... all her muchies were currently on the floor and unofferable...

[Requiem]

The brownrider merely watched Dorava from his reclined position, a small, amused smile dominating his face. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that the greenrider didn't often pick up on his teasing. (Fortunately she didn't seem to get all upset about it, either. That could have been a problem.) He also couldn't help but wonder if that position she'd taken up on her furs was a comfortable one, or half-defensive. Not that he blamed her. They were likely only acquaintances even if he would call them friends; M'ta knew he tended to attach to people quicker than most, once he got past his wariness. This was especially true of women. No, she probably felt she didn't know him. Oh well. That would change with time. He wasn't apologizing for his visit.

Oh. That was an odd response. "Actually, Erilena and I fight as often as we get along, too. So it wasn't much of a contest," he added, not sure if she was insulted or not. (He couldn't imagine why, but that single 'oh' had certainly sounded queer.) "She also has whip-wielding mother-in-laws to come beat me up if I upset her while she's pregnant." This was accompanied by a wry twist of his lips. If Elysia had gotten her way, he'd have a broken nose to add to his catalogue of broken bones.

I Devon, the blue returned, though he certainly wasn't upset at all. The croon had yet to stop as she sniffed over him. The solid blue puffed up his chest a bit at her question. Protect Mine from sticky. See? Kill dead. He shook his spines slightly to demonstrate the finality of the chocolate bit's demise. Then he paused and made as if to bat at the offending piece of sugary goodness. Also...it stuck.

"Well, good then. Because this couch is comfortable, and I didn't really want to get up to leave you to your nap," he responded cheerfully, deliberately ignoring the myriad signs that his sudden appearance was probably less than welcome. He refused to acknowledge it if she didn't come out and tell him to get lost directly. (That said he'd already given her an easy out, which she hadn't taken, so M'ta was going to be optimistic tonight and take that as willingness to have him here. Despite her awkwardness.)

"Juice is nice. Don't bother yourself if you don't want any juice for yourself, though; I've got water." He gestured to the flask strapped to his thigh. He always had water. "So...I gather that Love doesn't like being oiled? That's rare. Most draconics adore the stuff. What is it that she doesn't like about it?" Maybe Dorava would stop looking so fidgety and out of place if he could help her figure out this oiling problem with her 'mandyr. Not that it was a huge problem, actually, since salamandyrs didn't actually need to be oiled as adults. Technically.

[dragon]

Dorava's mouth twisted into a wry smile of amusement. "Whip wielding mother in laws? That could be an interesting thing to encounter for sure." She agreed. "Not the good kind of interesting either." She paused for a moment thoughtfully, and then decided to go ahead and ask. "How far along is Erilena?" The greenrider looked like she ought to have popped a month ago, after all. Dorava was willing to bet hard marks that the woman couldn't ride anymore, not with being that gravid. Just thinking about it hurt.

Devon. Funny name. Love answered, relaxing some what in the presence of the blue. His soft noises helped sooth her nerves a lot, too. Nasty sticky. Stuck. Help? she offered. Not kill. Never live. Bad, hate. Sticky. Make mess. Smelly. Made from plant babies. Love pointed out with some distinct distaste.

He was awful cheerful to have just awakened from a nap. He must have had a very good dream. But it was a nice atmosphere in any event. Especially to come down out of an adrenaline high to. Dorava smiled at his humor as her lines slowly relaxed again. "I am glad you like my couch then." She answered with a small laugh. "I do too, sometimes. Sometimes it's sharding hard to get back up out of though." Probably something he should know before he tried it, lest he wrench his leg when he tried. Not that that looked to be any time soon.

Unfolding up off her furs and back onto her feet, Dorava moved to where she had the juice. She had plenty, it was finding a second cup that was more difficult. After all, she didn't ever get guests and she was the only one in her Weyr that used a cup. By the grace of some unknown forgetfulness, she did find a second cup - that was interestingly enough also clean. How that came to be she wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure if it was clean-clean or madyr-clean. So, she made sure to keep that one for herself, and filled the one she knew to be actually clean for M'ta. Bringing both cups of juice back, she handed one to M'ta before returning to her seat on her furs, tucking her ankles under her thighs all over again. "It's grape." She supplied. "I cut it with a little redfruit because it was a tad tart." She warned, before taking a sip of the blend herself. She had, after all, been eating nuts before being startled. Both of which could give a body dry mouth.

"Love? No, she doesn't mind being oiled. It's the floral oil I was trying to use that she was protesting to." She clarified with a shrug. "She's got this thing about how it's plant genital juices. I have to admit that when it's put that way, it does sound rather gross. But she's got some flaky itchy bits, and I thought it would help soothe that. I don't know what she got into to cause that reaction though. It's the third time this week. I suspect it has something to do with something that is growing in the small spaces here that didn't grow in old Selenitas." She mused. "But she's a slick little critter, that's for sure. I suppose most mandrs are, but I guess I got used to Val being crippled..." and never wanting to get away from her either. She still missed Val. But she shook off the sinking feeling that came with that thought, determined not to fall into that hole. Covering up the sad, lonely reflective expression with a hasty smile, she took another sip of her juice before setting it aside where it wouldn't dump over into her furs. "I wish she'd tell me what she's getting into. It'd love to know what it is she's apparently allergic to."

[Requiem]

"You don't know the half of it," M'ta agreed. Elysia playing protector for Erilena when M'ta and the pregnant greenrider got along about as well as water and oil (though they were still pretty good friends in the end, oddly enough) gave the woman he'd caught flatfooted and imprisoned back at the old weyr far too many legitimate opportunities to get back at him. The brownrider's reasons didn't really matter; Elysia refused to be placated. He'd just recently come to the realization that he'd probably ruined the relationship with his former wingmate forever. Which was ironic. She'd held Riaren against him to try to force him to screw over (not that she saw it that way) the rest of his wing - old friends and family - at this Weyr. Imprisoning her himself had kept her out of the wastelanders' hands while he dealt with the problem. Really, if anyone should be holding a grudge, it was him. Oh well. If she wanted to dramatize her very cushy imprisonment and ignore that he'd protected her, that was fine. He wasn't going to argue.

She really wasn't good enough company, or a good enough friend, to fight for.

"Erilena? She's got...another couple months. Technically. But since they're twins and this is her first pregnancy she'll probably deliver in a month and change. That's the hope, anyway. Earlier than that would be bad for the babies." He smiled, then. "But she's doing very well and Asharra doesn't seem at all concerned. She was just put on bedrest." Which Erilena did not like at all, though M'ta knew for a fact - yes, he was something of a spy when he chose to be, something made easy by Feyrianth and Behruth being frequent cuddle buddies - that Dmitri spent a lot of time with her, not working as much.

Like help! Please, thanks? Devon extended his rather wickedly sharp tines to her so that she could get that sticky nasty bit off of him. He didn't argue with her about the nature of the chocolate, though it was still going to be alive, at least in his mind, because it was not nearly so impressive to protect His from inanimate objects. Love no like plants? the blue questioned curiously.

M'ta accepted the juice with a thank you and sipped at it, finding nothing at all wrong with the blend. Of course, Dorava couldn't possibly know that he'd spent the first fifteen turns of his life or so - definitely the first thirteen - all but starving to death on the streets of a corrupt hold. He was not at all picky about food or drink. (Though he still had his preferences. He liked his food to have taste, spice, some sort of kick, and in general he didn't like sweets as much as other things.) Nodding to indicate he was listening, his eyes drifted briefly toward the interacting salamandyrs.

Val. Though M'ta didn't know about Val becaused he'd never known Dorava that well, he knew about loss and could easily see it written on her face and stamped on her voice. He pretended not to notice. "Yes, salamandyrs are a handful. Even the sweet ones. Both of mine have been sweet." Though PMS had Betweened with his mate when R'wign took Checkoth and Vex with him. One of the contributing factors to M'ta's struggle to keep 'Ruth from going, a struggle that had come at a heavy price. "Even sweet they tend to be willful and get into everything." He wrinkled his nose.

Digging around in a pocket, he removed a vial and tossed it to her. "Regular oil. Maybe she'll be more receptive to that. Strange that she keeps breaking out...maybe E'rro could help figure it out. I only just started studying draconids when 'Ruth got approved for Weyrlingmaster." Odd that he phrased it that way, but M'ta knew that the choice had been more based on the dragon than the man.

[dragon]

Dorava's eyebrows went up. Twins? Wow ... Erilena would bear some watching then. It also explained why she looked like she was going to pop while she still had a few months to go. "Bed rest? Why bed rest?" She asked. That seemed like a silly idea. Even three days in bed would rob a body of a lot of its strength. But several months?? That seemed like a recipe for disaster to her. Birth wasn't an easy thing ... to do it twice in a single go ... while weakened? But while Dorava had extensive knowledge in birth (granted from beastherding), she wasn't about to argue a senior Healer's prerogative. She hadn't had that much hand in human births... and she did understand there was some difference, if not much.

Disgusted by the nature of the chocolate bit, Love sat up on her back legs and grappled the thing with both front feet. Tugging backward, she hissed with the effort. The slurpy slightly melted thing did start to come off the spine it was skewered on, but since Love was so small ... not easily. Icky nasty sticky smelly yucky! she cussed it. Taking a break she flopped on the floor again, panting. Good blow, getting on like so. she commented. Love not hate plants. Indifferent. Hate smushy babies. she clarified. Bad, hate, if tree smush baby mandyrs to put on its leaves. Love pointed out. Never mind that trees could do no such thing, and as such had never. But in her little mind the concept was the same.

"Willful is an apt description." Dorava agreed, leaning forward to look toward where the two mandyrs were. "What are they doing, holding a pow wow?" She joked. It was quite unusual that Love was being so quiet down there. Normally she was either professing her love for something, or screaming hatred at it. This neutral-sounding silence was most bizarre.

She jerked upright again and reflexively caught the vial that was tossed to her with her free hand. Though it was an awkward cross-body reach to catch it with that hand, the nearer hand had already been full of her cup. Opening her hand she looked at the item curiously before looking up at M'ta as he spoke. "Thanks." She answered with a smile. Dorava wasn't going to comment that she already had plenty of regular oil. Or that she'd already tried it and that it hadn't worked. The thought was a nice one ... and she wasn't about to ruin that. It was a kind of thought she didn't often get and wouldn't spoil it as such. Though ... why was M'ta wandering around in the middle of the night with a vial of oil in his pocket? Surely he didn't drink the stuff. For one, it didn't taste good at all (what rider hadn't accidentally gotten some in their mouth?) ... and as far as she was aware wasn't much use in relieving constipation.

"I haven't bothered E'rro ... he's a busy man. I figured I could figure it out myself. I've been studying that branch of Healing for long enough I thought I could handle it anyway. The problematic part is the patient I think. She's not the best patient I've ever had." Dorava commented, eying where her mandyr was hiding again. Shrugging, she looked up at M'ta again. "Did 'Ruth tell you he was applying for the job?" She asked, apparently unphased by his turn of phrase.

[Requiem]

M'ta blinked, half-sitting up further against the arm of the couch at Dorava's question. It was actually a fairly good one. Asharra was a Master Healer and her specialty was natal care (gynecology or whatever the official big word was) so he hadn't thought to question that decision of hers. Now that he thought about it for a moment, though..."You know, I really don't know? It seems like they're treating her like porcelain, doesn't it?" Even Elysia's attempt at breaking his nose (which had only succeeded in causing it to bleed again, because his reflexes were fast as ever, even caught by surprise) seemed a bit over the top in this context. Don't upset or let the pregnant woman do anything. "I hadn't thought about it, but had it been me, I always ignore it when they put me on bed rest. They'll have it so she can't even get out of bed, at this rate."

Hopefully she wasn't following it to the letter. Knowing Erilena...she probably wasn't.

Devon nudged Love with a grateful croon when she plopped on her back for a rest. (He'd been holding quite still up to that point so he didn't poke nasty holes in her by accident with his spines. He didn't even do anything to keep them sharp. They just always were, and wickedly so.) Smushy babies? What babies smush? Devotion questioned of Love, not really following her train of logic. (It might help if he saw plants as having babies, granted. Or if plants squished 'mandyr babies.)

The brownrider smiled at her question. "They're getting the chocolate off Devon and discussing...something about babies and smushing. Devon's not sure what she's trying to say." His bond with Devotion was almost as strong as the one with Behruth. Which meant it was more like a normal type bond between a rider and a dragon, rather than the one he and 'Ruth shared which required them to shield from each other just to function half the time.

"Well, no doubt you can. I don't suppose it's pressing...of course, you do work with E'rro, and at a low traffic time. I know he wouldn't mind if you ever wanted his input." M'ta should know, too; E'rro was perhaps his best friend. That actually was saying quite a bit, too, considering the weyrlingmaster had several really good friends. T'san and Er'ani, for starters. Even if Er'ani's constant immaturity could often be a source of aggravation for M'ta, the boy was always there when he needed him.

Interesting question. "Not exactly. Friends got it for us, actually...'Ruth was beyond depressed between how bad his wings were and losing Checkoth, and I was...worried. Benden gets rid of extra mouths and 'Ruth couldn't fly a wing. He's actually recovered a lot more than anyone thought, even if he still can't fly a wing. Back then it looked like it would turn out a lot worse. Some friends pushed the leadership to give us the job. It actually...surprised me a bit. Best thing that could have happened for 'Ruth, though." He smiled slightly. "Er'ani, E'rro's brother...I owe a lot to that kid. I'm trying to repay it by keeping him from killing himself," M'ta concluded dryly. The kid was flat-out stupid. Not in terms of actual intelligence, but he did stupid things constantly. That was one boy who still needed a babysitter.

[dragon]

Dorava only nodded in agreement to M'ta's assessment. "That seems to be the default reaction to women who are breeding." She agreed. "But were I her ... I'd have to be tied down to keep me in bed. Which ... would not be conducive to the whole idea would it." She mused, and then shrugged. She really didn't know Erilena, much less what her personality toward things like this were. Further more, she had personally only ever been pregnant once in her life ... and that once hadn't gotten very far along at all before she'd lost it to an illness. The plague more like. It was one more loss in a long list of losses that were getting harder and harder to distinguish between. What it was like to be gravid, she had no idea.

Love wriggled and cheeped, flopping over upright again. Smush. Smushed babies. Here, see? All brown and mucky, guts on outsides. She pointed out, prodding his chocolate bit. It really was all gooey and brown after all. Grabbing a hold of it again she pulled some more, claws sinking into the melting confection. Finally it came off the spine and Love flopped over backwards from the effort, the chocolate splatting into her chest in the process. Love rolled over and shoved it off of her, though only part of it went. YUUUUUCKKKK HATE HATE HATE!!! she flailed a bit, then stopped completely still quivering all over with her legs splayed out to all sides and her tail held straight out behind her like a stiff stick.

HATE.[/b][/color] She declared with vehemence.

Dorava's brows crept upwards a bit. "They're discussing babies? That's a decidedly odd thing for them to be discussing." Especially if they were discussing smushing babies .... but that wasn't something she wanted to contemplate too hard. Mostly because 'mandyrs were mischievous enough to cook up all kinds of rather distressing ideas. It was a lot nicer to think of them just talking about plain babies. Which ... really wasn't too far fetched now that she thought about it. Since M'ta and she were both discussing a pregnant woman.

The idea that someone wouldn't mind her bothering them about something was not a thought that had ever occurred to Dorava. It was something to be rolled around in her mind much like an oyster did a pearl. It was foreign, it didn't fit. She was far more used to everyone being annoyed with her for any reason under the sun. As a result she didn't bother people unless she absolutely had to. Thus trying to take care of it, solve it herself. She wasn't quite so sure that M'ta's assessment of that was as solid as he made it sound. Chances were good E'rro would be annoyed at the interruption-to-life that was Dorava. At least, in her estimation. That E'rro and M'ta were best buddies was a tidbit that she didn't know, and as such didn't weigh that in on her considerations. Instead she just thoughtfully fiddled with the vial she'd been tossed.

Her biggest problem was not in dealing with the irritation. That was easy. It was figuring out what was causing it that was stumping her.

Dorava smiled slightly, almost wistfully. "It's always nice to have friends." She answered. "I am glad he recovered better than anyone thought he would." There had been plenty of dragons who couldn't fly in the wings, before... but then that had been in Selenitas, too. Not under Wasteland. She had to admit that Selenitas was far softer than any of the Northern ilk ... it was part of what made Selenitas what it was. What made it attractive. It wasn't nearly so ... militaristic. Where the weak were killed just on principle. "Killing himself?" Dorava asked, a tad bit alarmed. "Is he suicidal?" Faranth have mercy, but it was already too easy to get one's self killed without going about looking for it!

[Requiem]

Breeding. Talk about a way to take all the romance out of it. Not that it was romantic for the majority of weyrbred women - and M'ta certainly never had had a woman to romanticize this whole childbearing thing with, though he'd been attracted to a couple of them (despite what people might think considering his werymate and husband had been male) - but still. For Erilena at least it was something special. Breeding. Like an animal. Hm.

What babies? Devon repeated, still quite confused. That brown stuff wasn't babies! It didn't smell like them, anyway. It smelled like a plant. He decided that it wasn't really that important, though, for him to understand what it was she was trying to tell him; if she could explain it, okay. If not, okay, too. The important part was she was getting it off.

Oh my! That was actually...rather funny. The blue 'mandyr was good about not actually laughing, though the amusement was probably clear in the swirling colors of his eyes as Love threw her fit at the chocolate that had splattered on her. Once she'd taken on her stiff stance and stopped yelling at it, Devon nudged her over gently with his nose. Over roll. Devon help. As soon as he had access to the goo on her chest, he started licking at it. It was rather blechy, really, but he could put up with it. Only fair that he help her when she'd helped him.

It was the way she said it that struck him. M'ta frowned slightly at Dorava. Did she think she had no friends? Sadder still, did she have no friends? But before that rather irksome thought could be addressed, she'd moved on to the topic of Er'ani and what seemed to be suicide. "No, no," M'ta answered quickly, a trace of amusement tainting the words. "He's just young and stupid. All us guys are at one point or another. His phase seems to be lasting longer than most," the man concluded dryly. The brownrider's own 'young and stupid' phase had been from about 8 to 11. Some people were forced to grow up a lot quicker than others. Now he was in the 'stubborn and stupid' phase of young men. Not naive but a little too quick to throw himself in harm's way. Or maybe that was just M'ta. He did tend to be rather more protective and aggressive in that protectiveness than the average person.

Catching up the throw pillow on the couch behind him, he tossed it at Dorava (not so hard as to actually knock her head about if it hit her, of course). "Stop looking so sad when you mention friends. You're likely to hurt my feelings." His smile softened the words, though that didn't make them necessarily untrue. M'ta could be a lot more sensitive than most people expected. (And which some people knew all too well.) "What am I, chopped liver?"

[dragon]

Love was in too much of a twitchfit to really put any cognizance to coming up with an answer for Devon's questions. Instead she just stood there all stiff until he nudged her and requested she roll over. Quite willing to have any help she could get in getting the nasty stuff off of her, Love waddled away from what was left of the gooey blob and rolled over onto her back, tail curling up into a tight knot of disgust. Hate gooey squichy babies mess. Love help, Devon good, love. she told him, quite grateful for whatever assistance was forthcoming. Though getting licked was making her atrociously ticklish and she couldn't help but wriggle.

"Oh." Dorava laughed. Young and stupid was understandable ... and was a far cry better affliction than being suicidal. "I guess he would need all the help he can get, then, wouldn't he?" She agreed. Though now she was hoping that the young fella wouldn't do anything too stupid... something that his friends couldn't haul him back out of anyway. Sometimes stupid ideas were learning experiences...

She jerked back reflexively as the pillow came flying at her, swatting at it with one hand before catching it in the same grip after its flight had changed direction. More of a swooping grab in appearance. For a moment she just stared at M'ta before she realized what he was going on about. And then she laughed and flung it back at him, more aimed toward his middle than at his head like he'd tossed at her. "No, you're not chopped liver. I didn't realize I was." All of which was true. Though she also hadn't been aware that M'ta had considered her a friend either. Acquaintance, maybe. But she was honored to know it, and it made her smile. Because it was good to have friends. Even in only just knowing that they were there. Leaning over she set the vial of oil he'd tossed her on the nearest non-bed surface where it was less likely to get lost or smashed.

She'd use it just as soon as she could catch Love again. Which would probably be sooner if Love thought she wasn't going to get floral oil used on her. "I bet any pickpocket that ran into you would be a rather frustrated sort, wouldn't he?" Ignoring the fact that if he got caught he'd probably lose all his guts to the floor for his trouble, of course. But having all kinds of strange things in his pockets ... probably kept whatever few valuable items he did have in there rather well insulated from theft.

[Requiem]

Well, apparently her hatred of 'gooey squishy baby mess' did not extend to Devon's licking and partially consuming of said mess, which was just as well considering he could think of no other way to rid her of the new 'friend' plastered to her chest. Of course, she was making it a little difficult by moving around so much. The blue half-flopped on her to hold her in place while he finished cleaning her underbelly. Devon love Love, he responded with a pleasant croon, before finally pulling away and making a blechy noise. At least the green was clean now? Even if his tongue wasn't.

The brownrider let the pillow catch him in the stomach and simply cuddled it to his chest from there, half-resting his chin on it as amusement danced through his eyes. "Well, you were. So stop it," he returned, wrinkling his nose at her playfully. (It wasn't so strange for him to be playful when he wasn't stressed, but who was likely to know that? The man always seemed to be busy or under some sort of pressure. Almost always.)

Her next question caught M'ta completely offguard. Not only did he have no idea where it had come from, but he wasn't privy to her mental process at all so he didn't even know what she meant. What he did know was that the people privy to any details like that about his past were few and far between, and Dorava wasn't one of them. So where had she gotten that from, anyway? No, wait. She did know he'd stolen, and maybe the mental leap of 'pickpocket' was just a natural conclusion she'd jumped to. M'ta relaxed slightly. (Not that he would have gotten upset at her. It was clearly the fault of the party who had wagged their tongues about him.)

"Um...I don't really do that sort of thing anymore, you know. I mean...yeah, I still pick locks on occasion and I've been known to still steal things from people every once in a great while, but for reasons other than monetary ones." He smiled wryly. He'd stolen Erilena's necklace once. As part of that rather dangerous game he'd been dancing with Z'ves. But that was the only time in semi-recent memory.

He cocked his head lightly to one side. "So I guess it's safe to say I probably wouldn't be an easy target for a pickpocket considering my background. I've never been pickpocketed, anyway?" Then he frowned slightly, still confused by this turn to the conversation. "Why are we talking about pickpockets?"

[dragon]

Love squeaked at being landed on, flopped one last time and then lay still, ribs heaving in and out as she panted for air. But that whole business of being licked clean was so ticklish that it was very, very hard to hold still. She managed it by studiously noting every detail of Devon's shoulder. His proclamation earned a curious peep from her, though. No one had ever told her that before! But then she wasn't a terribly social mandyr either ... when she was, there were usually teeth involved. Love love love love. she answered obscurely, wriggling again before finally settling on winding herself about the bigger mandyr and chewing affectionately on his front leg.

Dorava couldn't help but smile at the way M'ta caught the pillow and then promptly set to snuggling it as if it was his favorite over-stuffed bear. Between that and his picking at her, it really was a side she had not expected to discover in anyone, much less in him. Rumors going around painted M'ta as a very scary little guy. Maybe they were true, but apparently they weren't the whole truth. Which was always a nice little discovery.

But his reaction to her off-hand nonsense pickpocket comment confused her for a moment and she just looked at him while he stumbled all over that. Finally she understood what was going on and couldn't help but laugh. Just a little, but she laughed. "I'm sorry! That's ... not what I meant or implied or ... anything." She got her chuckles under control, and breathed a careful breath to keep them from erupting again. "I'm sorry. I was more referring to the seemingly random and deep pile of things you apparently keep in your pockets ... so it would be rather difficult for anyone to swipe anything of perceived lifting value from you. I didn't mean anything by it toward your background. I'm sorry." She apologized, rather aware of how that had made him twitch so. But it was still sorta funny at the same time. Though it really shouldn't be, she just couldn't help it.

But of course a former pickpocket would be quite likely to spot a pickpocket and avoid them ... or know how to pack his pockets so it would be pointless to get picked. Or at least such was the assumption.