Drip, drip, drip. (tag: anyone!)

[glamourie]

"You make for an excellent shelter," Ka'rys said, his voice barely audible, but it didn't need to be. The bronzerider was leaning back against Ciceroth, his arms folded across his stomach, and when he spoke aloud to his dragon it was often to hear his own voice; Ciceroth certainly didn't need to hear it to know what His was saying, nor understand the meaning. It was drizzling down rain, not unusual for the season in the south, though Ka'rys had taken quite awhile to get used to Selenitas's weather. Perhaps it would have been more sensible to go indoors but as the rain was only light drizzling, hardly counting as anything more, Ka'rys instead had climbed out of the river, dressed, and sat right against his dragon. The bronze, in response, spread one wing out widely to block the rain from falling on his still dripping rider - it was a pointless gesture but a sign of utmost affection nevertheless. "Although it might have been better to shield me before I got wet."

You are the one who jumped into the river. Was I meant to catch you by the ankle before you hit the water? the bronze inquired, rumbling his amusement. You are lucky I did not hide your clothing. It is unlikely that anyone else will come wandering down this far in the rain, and your excuse of modesty is lost.

Ka'rys half-snorted, half-laughed as he reclined back against Ciceroth. A droplet of water from his hair fell against his nose and he lifted one hand to wipe it away. Hiding his clothing from him seemed to be a favourite pastime of the bronze's and he had long since gotten over being offended by it, except when people were around to watch him run around completely naked in search of them. They had a working arrangement; Ciceroth only embarrassed him when he truly deserved it, and Ciceroth was a very fair judge of that. In return for Ciceroth not embarrassing him all the time, Ka'rys did not fabricate entirely humiliating stories about Ciceroth -- such as claims of him tripping over his wings when no one was looking (someone had actually believed that one, though it wasn't true -- it was when Ciceroth was a hatchling, though) or stories of how Ciceroth once flew into a tree by accident. Things of that nature which were often made up on the spot and meant to prick the bronze's pride. It did, too. Working agreement.

That particular afternoon, though, there were no fabrications. Just drizzling down rain from a mostly-gray sky, though there was no thunder to add an element of danger. No lightning danced across the horizon, a fact which almost made Ka'rys sad: he enjoyed watching the rain and lightning, though he supposed if there was a true storm he would have had to go inside. No, it was simply a gentle shower, surprisingly enough, and the sound of the rain hitting the river was therapeutic in its own way. Ka'rys had gone out for a swim just after breakfast, as most of his responsibilities were set for the evening. He'd intended to only stay outside for a short while but the rain made it easier. Since Ka'rys's skin burnt when he was exposed to sunlight for too long, he usually didn't spend much time outside during the day, but cloud coverage made it more appealing; no danger of sunburn there! After he'd gotten out of the river, he dressed in his loose black leggings and his pale gray tunic, the sleeves of which fell well past his hands; once, he'd had a weyrbrat tie them in a knot in a joke. Ka'rys needed help getting them undone. He'd been careful about that since, too.

"Isn't it a pretty day?" he inquired, looking up at the bronze, who crooned back at him. Pretty indeed.

[boober]

The sound of feet pounding against the wet earth could be heard over the sound of the rain against the lush vegetation as Aryna tore through the jungle. She was soaked, indicating she’d been at this for some time. Rain, shine, sleet, it didn’t matter what the weather was doing; the brown rider never missed her run. She knew how many people despised running, but she loved it. And it was no leisurely jog, either. The young woman ran as if the fiercest of foes was hot on her trail, a flat all-out run that most people only achieved in footraces… and even then only the best paced the pace that she was putting up. She’d been running like this since she’d Impressed Dramuth, and the jungles of Selenitas only added agility to the challenge of endurance. So she was wet. Clearly it didn’t deter her in the least, her feet pounding a rapid tattoo against the damp earth that was interrupted only when she leaped clear of some obstacle in her path. It was as if she were trying to fly, her feet clearing whatever was in front of her with at least six inches to spare.

Above her, her fine brown friend glided leisurely through the skies, seeming to mind the rain about as much as His. He dipped and swirled, looping through the air just above the canopy. Even at his slowest, Dramuth usually flew faster than His could run, so he’d taken to putting intricate little time-wasters into his flight so that he could keep a decent pace with her. The truth was, the brown was there as protection; all manner of beasts lurked in the jungles, and he wasn’t about to leave his rider to fend for herself. Of course, he only told her that he enjoyed ‘running’ with her. Dramuth knew Aryna well enough to know that she’d be offended at his thought of being protection for her. She was very confident in her abilities to take care of herself and deal with anything that might come her way.

But still. Better safe than sorry, right?

Mine, Ciceroth and His are just ahead. Besides, the brown could see much farther than Aryna could, down in the dense growth of the jungle. Even though she didn’t reply, he knew she heard and acknowledged his words. But now they were getting toward the more occupied areas by the river, indicating that the run was nearly complete. Aryna liked to push herself to the limits of her capabilities in all things, not just endurance. It was the main reason why the brown rider was in such excellent physical condition. She leaped to clear a fallen log before plunging down the steep bank of the river, sliding down the muddy slope to splash right into the water and disappearing beneath the surface. Dramuth landed with precision in the clearing and swiveled his head to regard Ciceroth and his rider with colorful eyes. Greetings Ciceroth, and to Yours. Mine is just finishing her run.

As if she could hear her brown refer to her, Aryna suddenly emerged from the water like a phantom rising from the mist, rivulets running off her hair and clothes. She shook herself like a canine as she waded onto the bank, flashing a grin not at Ka’rys, but at his bronze. “Hi Ciceroth! How goes? Good afternoon, bronze rider.” Her tone toward Ka’rys was decidedly less enthusiastic and more polite. But it wasn’t that she disliked him or anything like that… she just liked his bronze. A lot. Aryna was still fond of all dragons, even though she had her own now. Dramuth shifted, crouching down so that he could be more comfortable. His eyes whirled with hints of amusement at his rider; he knew all of her quirks by now of course, and the fact that she seemed to enjoy the company of other dragons didn’t bother the brown in the least. She was His, and would always be His, and she treated him as such. He was secure in the knowledge that no dragon meant as much to her as he, just as no human meant as much to him as she did.

So there was no reason to go getting jealous of everyone, now was there?

[glamourie]

Dramuth and his come. It was a 'warning' in a way, though the explanation from Ciceroth was offered only moments before Dramuth came to land near them. The bronze crooned a greeting but did not move from his spot, so affectionately curled against his rider. His tail curled around to actually rest in Ka'rys's lap, though his rider did not appear to notice. There was no actual verbal response offered to Dramuth but the crooning would have been enough; it was a friendly acknowledgment. Ciceroth was a quiet dragon by nature, even if he did have a mischievous streak as wide as he was long. He didn't say anything to others unless he absolutely had to, and simple greetings were not something he was terribly fond of. He never ignored anyone, though. One might notice that Ciceroth responded even to the smallest firelizard, though it may not have been the words others wanted. Actions and sounds spoke louder anyway.

Aryna's arrival earned a second croon, and Ka'rys, whose eyes were closed as he reclined against his bronze, tipped an imaginary hat to her. Since she didn't seem to care about his existence, he did not bother with small talk. Ciceroth on the other hand swiveled his head around to snort at Aryna in an undeniable show of affection; he liked people, and she was one of the few he'd tolerate around him, though he never spoke to her. Ciceroth pointedly refused to speak to anyone except his rider. It was a streak of stubbornness that others might find unappealing, though Ka'rys had always been flattered; Ciceroth alone made him feel special, no one else mattered enough to be taken seriously. It probably said volumes of his personality that he put other people's opinions as so worthless, but then, Ka'rys was a bronzerider from Fort Weyr -- would anyone who knew that truly be surprised?

Unlike Ciceroth, Ka'rys wasn't fond of Aryna. Her accent and manner of speaking, even some of her attitude, sounded of Benden - and Ka'rys hated Benden. Part of that was the fact that he was a Fort Weyrbrat grown, and it was bred into him the way some people bred dogs to get certain looks. His whole life he was taught Benden was the enemy and coming to Selenitas hadn't changed that; if anything the impression was made worse. While Aryna had been at Selenitas about as long as he had, there was no denying that he still considered her Benden. Oh, he was nice enough to her, polite and pleasant, but in his eyes she was a Benden rider, and therefore the enemy. He would never treat her unpleasantly because it wasn't in Ka'rys's nature, but the fact that she was from Benden kept her at arm's length at all times. Not that he was friendly to anyone; at heart, Ka'rys was a surprisingly distant individual. Few knew him well, and even fewer would talk of it. The one who knew him best was lying behind him affectionately nudging Aryna over toward the river again, as if he could knock her in with just a nudge.

"Ciceroth says greetings to you, Aryna of Dramuth, and asks how your day has been. Greetings from me as well," he said, voice soft, though he finally opened his eyes. His head turned so that he could meet Aryna's gaze, unflinching. He was very good about always meeting people's eyes when he spoke to them, and he'd garnered more than one accusation of staring. The way Ka'rys spoke made it clear he was speaking for Ciceroth rather than himself, which in turn was a good distancing technique: let the dragon do all the talking. Left to his own devices, Ka'rys used everything he could to keep from talking about himself - flirting was not out of the ordinary either. "He asks if you are fond of swimming in the rain and whether or not you enjoy singing in it as well. A question I myself find interesting: do you sing in the rain too?" He clucked his tongue before humming a light, musical beat, as if to prompt singing. In a past life, perhaps Ka'rys was a harper.

I vote you sing something romantic to her. There was a light edge of amusement in Ciceroth's 'voice' that made Ka'rys smile, though the expression was secretive. It did not in any way relate to Aryna. Romance just wasn't his thing. Ka'rys had never been romantically attached to anyone, and thus had no experience. He also was not gifted with words - so he let the matter drop, for the moment. Later he would plot something to sing at Aryna, and claim it from Ciceroth. It would give him something to amuse himself with.

[boober]

Aryna laughed, light and carefree and somehow adding to the whimsical feel of the glade in the slow drizzly rain. On the outside, she was a young woman, barely out of girlhood, who was lighthearted and free from care and had the spunk to do as she wanted when she wanted and how she wanted it. And in a way, it was true; she didn’t bluff or act, at least not often. With Aryna, what you saw was pretty much what you got. If she was standing before you in drenched clothes and laughing merrily, then odds were that she was in a fine mood. But if she was standing there with a scowl and a dagger, best run. Here at Selenitas, though, it was a rare thing indeed for anyone to see her dark side, the side that knew how to kill a man swiftly, efficiently, and silently with a single stroke, and moreover was not afraid to actually follow up on the task. Her paranoid, suspicious side, developed from being a girl growing up in a place where females were viewed as less than nothing, and fending off the rather unpleasant (to put it mildly) things that happened as a result. The side that wouldn’t think twice of breaking a weyrling’s neck if it kept her safe from harm.

For all that she loathed the Weyr she’d grown up in, Aryna couldn’t deny that Benden had played a very major role in making her who she was. She enjoyed the security of knowing she could take someone out if she needed to, instead of just be a victim like many women in the north. Fortunately, living at Selenitas for the last few Turns had laid that need to rest, at least for now; dark thoughts and memories always flitted behind her eerie gray eyes, but for the most part everyone saw her as the active, rambunctious young female that was standing and laughing as Ciceroth attempted, by all appearances, to push her back into the river. She wrapped her arms around his muzzle loosely, implying that if he so dared to try, he’d find her clinging to him like a leech. Not that it would hurt her to be dumped in the water. Shells, she was as drenched as she could possibly get already. But Aryna was nothing if not cheerfully contrary; if someone wanted or expected her to do something, she’d do the opposite just to fool with their brains. It was a favored pastime of hers.

Although she grinned at Ciceroth, the brown rider turned her attention to Ka’rys. Her pale gray eyes scrutinized him even as her mouth quirked in a playful smile at his bronze as she straightened, letting her arms fall to her sides. “I’m doing well; and yourself?” Her voice had taken on that nicely polite tone, as before. She really didn’t dislike Ka’rys… but she didn’t trust him. She knew absolutely nothing about him, and that didn’t sit well with her at all. Weyrfolk were usually open, trusting people with one another, although with these times it was understandable for people to be a little more closed off. Even so, Selenitas knew Aryna, and she knew most everyone else there as well. But Ka’rys was a walking enigma, and she was no closer to knowing him today than she had been the day of her arrival. Not exactly grounds for immediate trust. Still, she was very ‘do unto others’; she couldn’t deny that he was pleasant enough, and he gave her no reason to challenge or question him, aside from just being mysterious. Even for Aryna, that just wasn’t enough. He was not unpleasant to her so she would not be unpleasant to him.

Ciceroth’s next question (asked courtesy of his rider) made Aryna’s grin widen again. “If the whim takes me.” She’d do anything in the rain; she didn’t mind getting wet and there wasn’t really anything she did that could be impeded by the rain. So why worry about it? “I do whatever I like in the rain; there’s nothing wrong with being wet.” This she seemed to say to Ciceroth, smiling at the bronze as she spoke. Well, it was only fair; it had been his question, after all. Dramuth watched in silence on the other side of the clearing, water beading and rolling off his gleaming hide. The brown was content; His was happy, though he could feel the undercurrent of her mistrust toward Ciceroth's. But that was all right; she was having fun, and no one meant anyone else any harm this day, and that was really all that mattered.

[glamourie]

"I'm wet," Ka'rys replied with a cheeky grin. Unlike Aryna, he was not sopping, but there was no denying that he was indeed... well, wet. His hair, which fell to the top of his upper lip when dry, was quite neatly slicked all around his face, little droplets of water dripping from each strand periodically. There were dozens of water splatters on his tunic, though for the most part he was physically dry. Oh, Ka'rys wasn't a fool; he knew she hadn't meant the question that way but there was no way he was going to talk about his true feelings as they were none of her business. Besides, he was feeling particularly playful. Just because he didn't like Aryna very much and certainly didn't trust her further than he could throw her (though there was no denying that while she wasn't a small woman, and he wasn't a large man, he probably could pick her up and throw her a short distance; he was rather strong, despite his build) didn't mean that he minded spending time with her. In truth Ka'rys did not mind spending time with anyone -- it was very hard to get under his skin, and even harder to stay there. Ka'rys just didn't care enough.

Rather gracefully, Ka'rys rose to his feet, one hand propping against Ciceroth's side to help himself up. The additional contact made the bronze's eyes whirl with affection. A casual viewer would note the undeniable closeness between dragon and rider, perhaps more intensely than most would expect from Ka'rys who kept himself distant from everyone else. Ciceroth was extremely affectionate, always touching and nudging his, and even when they were not together physically, the two were constantly speaking. During the worst of their disagreements, Ka'rys had never been able to completely ignore Ciceroth and thus the bronze was the only living creature that got true emotional reactions from his rider. More over he was the only one who knew Ka'rys well enough to be able to predict his reactions to things. Ka'rys, who prided himself on being unpredictable, had never liked how well Ciceroth knew him -- but he couldn't deny it at all. Ka'rys shot Aryna a playful smile, the only warning he offered, before Ciceroth promptly leaned over and nudged her right back into the river with his snout. The movement was fast enough that she would not have a chance to grapple onto him. He had practice - Ka'rys was fond of clinging when he didn't want to get wet, after all.

Ka'rys smirked to himself as he walked over to the very edge of the river bank. He knew the risk that position was taking; if Aryna was anything like what he expected, she would try to pull him into the river with her, and he didn't mind the idea that much. He was a strong swimmer, and he was already wet. Stepping out from underneath Ciceroth's wing made it worse. By the time he went inside he'd be sopping, and he had plenty of dry clothes to wear. It wasn't cool enough outside to worry about being chilled, either. He waited long enough for Aryna to surface and then crouched down, hands dangling between his knees. There was a distinct look of amusement on his face, and it was genuine: there was no point in hiding that he found his dragon's antics funny. Better Aryna than him, in his opinion. After all, she was the one who actively chose to spend time around Ciceroth; he certainly never forced her to come around him and the bronze, and she had to have been observant enough to notice that he possessed a strangely playful streak, particularly for a dragon reared in the north in a time of war.

"Are you a good swimmer, brownrider?" he inquired, his voice light. The title was actually meant to be respectful. Since she was only a wingrider he called her by color and station rather than rank; were she a wingsecond or wingleader, the proper title would have been attributed. The formality was typically a distancing technique, though in the case of Aryna, it was also recognition that they were not friends and therefore it would be presumptuous of him to talk to her as though they were. Glancing at the river, he clucked his tongue. Part of it was secluded for swimming, and it was a fairly decent length. Not ideal for his goal - running was better - but she was probably faster on her feet than he was. Ka'rys was quick in the way that a tunnelsnake was quick - not a feline, despite how agile he may have appeared. In the water though he was surprisingly fast. He liked to swim. "Would you be up for a race? We are wet anyway."

[boober]

Aryna made a sound that seemed somewhat rude, but the look that went with it was only amused. She could tell that Ka’rys was wet just fine without him telling her. The fact that he’d avoided saying anything more than the obvious wasn’t lost on her. If she’d been in the mood to care, the brown rider might have been annoyed, but in the rain, soaked to the skin, and in (relatively) good company, she didn’t really care. There would be other days when she’d probably be less laid-back about stuff like that. For now, she was watching Ka’rys as he got to his feet, her gaze following his movements. But she quickly found out that it was Ciceroth she should have been watching. All she had time for was a slight raise of her eyebrows at the bronze rider’s smile before she was suddenly sent toppling over the bank and into the river with a splash.

Dramuth rumbled his amusement, eyes whirling with it. He’d seen Ciceroth’s intention and could have warned His, but opted instead for the satisfaction of seeing her topple into the river. The brown knew that he’d be forgiven later. He was perhaps the only one she didn’t hold grudges against. And as she came up from the water, it was a good thing, as she flung her hair back from her face, slinging water everywhere as she lifted her face to look at Ka’rys. She then glanced at Ciceroth and grinned good-naturedly, rivulets running down her face. “You got me.” She’d have to watch that bronze a little more closely. But for now, her attention went back to his rider, raising one dark eyebrow. It was tempting to yank him into the water with her, but it was obvious he was going to speak, and she wanted to hear whatever he had to say.

“A good swimmer?” She smiled, but it wasn’t exactly nice. It was kind of insulting that he had to ask, and as a result, she didn’t deign to give it an actual reply. She did, however, look quite interested as he issued his challenge. Oh boy, competition. It was something that Aryna loved. She was absolutely nothing if she was not one of the most competitive women on Pern. She loved to go up against anyone in anything, and if she lost, she practiced or trained until she was positive she wouldn’t be beaten again. So it was with enthusiasm that she accepted any and all challenges; they were a way of showing what her strengths and weaknesses were and where she needed work. So it was really very practical, thank you very much.

“What do I get if I win?”

She’d as good as accepted it, but that didn’t mean she was going to leap up with a ‘yeah!’ and get started; she wanted details!

[glamourie]

Ciceroth rumbled to Aryna, his amusement evident from the vibrant swirls of color rapidly whirling about his eyes. If dragons could laugh, he probably would have been chuckling. Even as Ka'rys moved away, he continued to rumble, apparently finding the fact that Aryna had managed to be dunked so efficiently to be amusing. Some people may have found his sense of humor inappropriate; ill-mannered, even. But most people who dealt with Ciceroth seemed to find it funny that such a large bronze was, at heart, such a little boy. Most bronzes were arrogant (and while he was, on some level, too, he hid it better than others did) and would not tolerate 'joking' and 'playing' in such a childish manner. Ciceroth liked jokes and goofing off. He found it a good way to chase away the stress of every day life. No one could deny that the existence he and Ka'rys led was... not exactly the most casual. Everyone had their own way of dealing with the demands and pressure. Picking a people in a harmless manner was his. Better that than brooding and letting himself be lost in melancholy, as his rider would say, though in truth Ciceroth didn't care enough to have such reactions. Ka'rys wasn't the only one who detached very well.

Undaunted by Aryna's lack of answer, Ka'rys stood and stretched his arms high above his head. His back cracked once - audibly - and were he not stretching the sound might have been worrisome for how loud it was. He was fond of that - cracking his back and knuckles so that the sound went pop, pop, pop! and earned uncomfortable looks. Everyone needed a hobby. Once he was thoroughly stretched out, he folded his arms behind his head and regarded the brownrider curiously.

"What would you like?"

The question was probably a dangerous one, but if the stakes weren't acceptable Ka'rys would not accept a challenge. Pride was an issue for him only on certain occasions and a bet wasn't big enough to spark it. Doubtless was it that if he turned down the challenge because of her stakes, she would tease him -- but Ka'rys didn't care what some no-name Benden brownrider thought and never would. He'd asked her about swimming to amuse himself, nothing more. While that probably spoke volumes about the level of his conceit, Ka'rys had come to terms long ago with the fact that he was not an easy person to get along with. Oh, he'd fake being annoyed, but that would be all there was -- faking. He doubted, though, that Aryna could ask anything he'd be unwilling to give. Having no conscience and relatively little morals made most stakes easy for him. Only questions he didn't want to answer were too high and he doubted Aryna would be able to deduce the questions that were 'out of bounds.' If she did, he would either lie, or change the topic. He had almost thirty turns worth of experience in distancing himself.

"And what do I get if I win?"

[boober]

Dramuth had been rather amused indeed as His was shoved into the river. Now, the brown was lying with his head resting on his claws but still watched and listened. This exchange between His and Ciceroth’s was getting interesting. He knew how competitive Aryna was, and that there was no way she’d turn down a challenge… especially not from Ka’rys. The end of his tail flicked lazily back and forth as his eyes focused on the bronze rider’s form by the bank. If he had any suggestions for his rider on what to ask for, he remained quiet.

Aryna stared at Ka’rys for a good few minutes, her ghostly pale eyes slowly dragging themselves down his body. Normally this would probably be where she suggested something… well, suggestive. But Ka’rys was one of the few people who could boast of having no affect on her whatsoever. He was handsome enough, which only made it all the more odd. Usually anyone who looked half-decent had equally half-decent chances of getting into the furs with her. But sex was out of the question now; even if Ka’rys had been willing, Aryna wasn’t. She didn’t trust the bronze rider as far as she could pick him up and throw him. How ironic.

But if she wasn’t entertaining the idea of a roll in the furs with him, what else did she want? That was just the problem; Ka’rys had very little, if anything, that she truly wanted, though it was more a matter of trust than anything. She didn’t know him and didn’t trust him to give her exactly what she wanted even if she did think of something. Complicated, sure, but the brown rider was more complicated than she liked to let on. Finally, she gave a shrug of her slim shoulders. “How about mending my straps for me?” She smiled up at Ka’rys almost sweetly. Mending straps was something she detested doing… wasn’t active enough for her. To have to sit down and stare at a piece of leather for an hour was tantamount to torture for Aryna. She didn’t trust Ka’rys, but she didn’t think he’d do anything to botch up her straps. Besides, if she won and he ended up mending them for her, she was perfectly capable of giving them a thorough check before using them. If anything was amiss, she’d see to it.

As for him… “What do you want?” The suspicion that went along with that question was well-hidden behind her cheery expression. There was in no way any kind of promise to accept whatever he suggested. As she waited for him to answer, she loosened the belt around her waist before taking it off and coiling it neatly. It was tossed toward Dramuth, who merely opened one eye to glance lazily at his rider as she proceeded to take off her shoes. If this was going to be any kind of swimming match, she didn’t need her clothes bogging her down, right? And besides, what was a little nudity between adults?