Welcome to Motherhood [Tags T'rid]

[boober]

The day was cool and slightly overcast; it was windy, the sort of day that made the ocean look more gray than blue. The sky had a weird light to it, almost a glow. It would probably rain later but for now it was fine. The weather aside, it was nice to be out on the beach. Dramuth was a large hulking form nearby, his slowly whirling eyes cast toward the water watchfully. The brown was utterly silent and at a time when he would normally be taking a swim, the dragon simply crouched on the beach. He was watching something, and it wasn’t hard to see what.

The small form that was crouched almost by the water’s edge was diligently digging in the sand with small, pudgy hands. A few loose black curls escaped from under the knit cap that the little boy was wearing down over his ears to protect them from the wind. He was wearing long sleeves and long pants and good sturdy little boots but the jacket he’d worn had been taken off upon landing. Calerin was intent on the sand, it seemed, digging for something. Or maybe he just liked how it felt in his hands; who knew? But the toddler was glad to be out of the crèche and outside in the wind and spray. He stood up and brushed his hands against his shirt before toddling over and crouching to pick something up from the beach. It was just a rock, but to him it was fascinating. Standing again as he studied the object, he soon turned to face Dramuth’s general direction.

The brown crooned lightly toward the child and flicked his tail outward. By some trick of light the movement revealed the dragon’s rider, sitting on Dramuth’s foreleg. Aryna had her legs crossed, arms folded and resting against her lap as she leaned forward slightly. She watched Calerin intently, half expecting the sea to rise and swallow the little boy. It was only because of Dramuth that she sat still and calm… at least on the outside. It was scary how much the child still terrified her… so many harmful possibilities were always going through Aryna’s mind. She had thought of the little cap herself; no one had to point out that children easily came down with ear infections. The brown rider had already fretted about it on her own, and only Dramuth’s calming influence had kept her from all but smothering the boy in clothes, all because it was just a tad on the cool side today.

The ocean will not swallow him up, came Dramuth’s chiding words at Aryna’s thoughts. You are being very silly. He didn’t expect a reply, however, which was good since he didn’t receive one. Calerin was running toward them, his curls bouncing and fluttering as he went. When he stopped in front of Aryna, the little boy extended his arm and looked at her expectantly. Blinking, she sat up and opened her hand so that he could drop the rock into her palm. He continued to look at her, clearly expecting something. Not sure of what he wanted Aryna cleared her throat.

“You… want me to keep it for you?” Calerin nodded. Even though it had been a few days since Aryna had taken him from the crèche, the boy hadn’t spoken once. He’d smiled at her a few times since but he hadn’t even so much as laughed, even when Clover made a scene upon discovering she’d no longer be the baby in the weyr. “All right.” She picked up the tiny little riding jacket and stuck the pebble in the pocket. He would probably forget all about it by the time they went home, but oh well. Once he saw his prize safely tucked away, Calerin turned and dashed back off down the beach. There was a whole world for him to explore, and he wasn’t going to waste any time. He clearly trusted Aryna and Dramuth to keep him safe but just to be sure, he never strayed too far from them. Then again maybe that was because Aryna had a tendency to get somewhat panicky if she couldn’t see him. Ah, motherhood….

[Avu]

“It looks like rain.”
Oh, I didn’t know it was Obvious Day in Hold Stupid…
Ouch. “Nnnn.”
Intelligent, Corinth observed, the bronze dragon twirling idly in the sky above T’rid as the bronzerider tilted his head upwards to squint suspiciously at him. He was used to their bantering, but there was a decidedly devious edge to Corinth’s tone – the bronze was probably planning on throwing him as far as he could into the ocean in the next few minutes. His record? – one and a half dragonlengths: Thirty feet. He’d been on a cliff (albeit a small cliff) at the time when Corinth had plucked him neatly by the nape of his neck and whipped him into the ocean accompanied by oh-so-lovely screeching that mixed fury and surprise into one sound that positively ripped through the octaves: Knowing the bronze, he’d be out to beat that record. And, Corinth knowing him, the bronze would know that he’d be bound to resist in some manner, be it trying to latch onto the dragon’s muzzle or just fleeing from Corinth to begin with.

A pity that asking him what he was planning would only make it worse…

“So…”
Incoming, replied Corinth, and the next minute, T’rid dangled limply from the bronze’s mouth, fingers sliding in between his neck and the front of his shirt to keep it from choking him; Corinth had snagged him neatly by the nape of his shirt and carried him in an effortless glide forward. He didn’t throw His; he didn’t drop him – until Dramuth and His, as well as the toddler, came into view. Crooning through the fabric, Corinth circled overhead for a moment before he swept downwards to about ten feet above the ground – and dropped T’rid. With a decidedly undignified screech, the bronzerider flailed in midair – and then hit the ground flat on his back, groaning in protest. Not exactly the best way to meet someone new, but it wasn’t as if T’rid had really had much of a choice.

He had come out here for a walk – when it hadn’t looked so gloomy outside. Corinth, apparently, had other plans. Unfortunately, the reason T’rid knew so little of Corinth’s ‘other plans’ was the fact that he almost never approved of them, as they typically consisted of his being embarrassed, in K’lir’s company, dropped ten feet, or pitched thirty feet into the ocean – the list went on. Whatever it was about opposites attract? – whoever said it forgot to mention that, attracted or not, opposites also clashed. A lot. Occasionally these clashes included pain, wanting to be swallowed by the ground, etc.

“Corinth…” T’rid groaned, pushing himself upright and crossing his legs as he tilted his head up to look at Aryna and Dramuth – and then at Calerin, the glance decidedly impersonal. He didn’t know brown or Rider past reputation (only female brownrider, and all of that), and he didn’t know of Calerin at all. Aryna and Dramuth were closer to him (physically) than Calerin was, too; Corinth had neatly dropped him about five feet from the brown and her Rider. Blinking sheepishly, T’rid stared at Aryna and Dramuth for a moment before he shrugged. “Uh – sorry to…fall from the sky, my dragon thinks it’s funny…?” Had he just apologized for being dropped by his dragon? Really? Yes, yes he had – and how ridiculous it had sounded, too. Crinkling his nose, the bronzerider glanced skywards again – and then Corinth, who had been gliding overhead, watching with definite shades of amusement in his eyes, swept in to land neatly behind him.

Pushing at T’rid with his muzzle, the bronze dragon crooned a greeting to Dramuth. I’m very sorry that I have to drop Mine on you, but he’s going to sire a hatchling and I think he’s scared of them – is your hatchling scary, can you ask Yours to make Mine not-scared…? It’s ridiculous, but he won’t listen to me…so I have to settle for dropping him in the ocean and on the beach, unfortunately.

[boober]

At first the only movement from dragon and rider was Dramuth’s eyes whirling slowly with a hint of amusement, and Aryna’s long dark hair blowing in the breeze. She’d had it tied back but pulled the leather string out once they’d landed, and now the strands moved freely around her face and shoulders. Her eyes were briefly obscured but when they came back into view, she blinked at the bronze rider who had been dropped practically at her feet. “Well. Thanks for dropping in, I could use some adult company.” The words came accompanied by a slow drawl and a rather dry tone. The brown rider was clearly unimpressed with T’rid’s arrival. Somewhat amused, perhaps, but unimpressed even so. Her dragon shared the same sentiments really, although he warbled a cheery greeting to the bronze as Corinth landed behind His.

We don’t mind; I believe Aryna has worded it perfectly, came the brown’s reply to Corinth. Our hatchling is not scary; in fact he is very well-behaved. Dramuth extended a wing in the direction of the aforementioned toddler, who was standing about half a dragonlength away staring at the bronze and his rider as if… well, as if they had dropped out of the sky. He’d never seen a dragon toss his rider about so. This apparently required investigation as Calerin toddled over toward the bronze. Apparently he did not have any kind of fear regarding dragons. He certainly didn’t have any reservations about marching up to Corinth and tilting his head far back to look up at the bronze. He then looked over at Aryna before pointing at the dragon. He was bigger than Dramuth; could they take him home?

Quirking an eyebrow, Aryna stared back at the boy for a moment. “What? It’s a dragon. You have one already.” Calerin blinked and looked at Corinth again before turning to look at Dramuth. Sure, he had one, but… he wanted the bronze. Dramuth seemed to pick up on what the child was hinting at and wasn’t offended; in fact, he gave a low rumble of amusement.

I think he wants to take the bronze home with him. The brown spoke so that both Aryna and Corinth could hear, and the announcement made the corners of her mouth quirk upward. How cute.

“You can’t have the bronze. He belongs to someone else.” Calerin seemed to think about this for a moment and anyone with eyes in his head could see the wheels turning as the little boy mulled the situation over. He wanted this bronze; perhaps his rider would consider a trade? He was sure Aryna wouldn’t mind giving Dramuth up for Corinth. Then she would be a bronze rider instead. An upgrade. While the thoughts didn’t come to him in so many words, that was the basic gist of Calerin’s plot. Apparently he’d been spending too much time with R’wign. Oh, he liked Dramuth well enough. The brown spoke to him and let him climb on him. But boys would be boys, and the moment Calerin laid eyes on Corinth, he wanted a bronze of his very own. What better way than to take T’rid’s bronze?

Keeping an eye on Calerin (just to see what he did next… really), Aryna turned her focus back to T’rid. “So what brings you out on this lovely winter’s day?” Something was up; she was being unusually pleasant. Or maybe the confusion of suddenly being a parent had caught up with her. It was impossible to tell but whatever it was it seemed that T’rid was in luck. She’d have been jabbing at him about being dropped from the sky by now. Fortunately she was distracted and watched as Calerin marched purposefully up to the bronze rider and stared down at him pointedly. Aryna hid a smile because she knew that the boy would continue to stare until T’rid gave him his full attention. Whatever Calerin was, he definitely wasn’t shy and he no doubt intended to try and barter a dragon trade. Dramuth for Corinth. That was fair, wasn’t it?

[Avu]

Oh, gee. Nice joke. T’rid dropped his head backwards to express his opinion on the idea of ‘dropping in’. As for adult company – well, the bronzerider didn’t really want to stick around very long; he hadn’t been kidding when he said it had looked like rain and T’rid hated getting wet. He absolutely hated it – which amused Corinth to no end and provided the bronze with endless amusement. But Corinth aside, he’d been hoping to get back to his weyr to curl up in furs before the rain came – and rain never came down to suit him, so as far as he was concerned, the sooner he could flee for the weyr as if he had Thread threatening his rear, the better – forget dignity. “I…am honored to be your ‘adult company’,” T’rid observed dryly, and then glanced towards Calerin just as Corinth explained to him why they were there – the bronzerider appraised the toddler with a decidedly wary look in his eye before he looked back at Aryna, gaze hooded now.

So not fond of babies…

Corinth rumbled quietly at Dramuth, bowing his head till his muzzle touched the sand. Had the dragon been smaller, it would have been an almost demure position, eyes swirling quiet shades of blue and green as he slowly uncurled his body into a full-out sprawl across the sand. He looks like a very nice hatchling, the bronze commented quietly, looking back over at Calerin and then crooning pleasantly at the toddler. What’s his name, if I may ask…? he added, leaning down as the toddler came up to him; the silent examination and pointing of him was returned just as intently, Corinth’s muzzle hovering inches away from Calerin as the bronze crooned again, eyes whirling rapidly in curiosity. Human hatchlings were so soft and small – he thought they were cute; he could never figure out what had T’rid so badly scared about the idea of siring a hatchling to the point of literally throwing up. This one…this one was cute. Silent, too; T’rid had been panicking because hatchlings were, apparently, loud. This one wasn’t!

Dramuth’s comment made Corinth croon in amusement, and the bronze actually reached out to nudge Calerin. Very, very gentle was Corinth, running the tip of his muzzle down Calerin’s arm before he drew back again, commenting to His, Dramuth thinks that he wants to keep me. Can we take him home, Mine? It could be like practice… Said the one who wanted to keep K’lir. Said the one who had just dropped him ten feet out of the air (and expected him to bounce). Because, yes, that was what you did when you wanted something from someone, clearly!

“We’re n – what?” T’rid asked, distracted by Aryna’s question; the bronzerider half-turned, still sitting, to glance at the brownrider quizzically for a moment before he shrugged, leaning back and propping himself up on the sand by his palms. “I originally came out for a walk, but Corinth had other plans…and…um, well, he doesn’t usually feel the need to inform me when he gets these bright ideas…” Kind of annoying, but that was Corinth. “Er – what’s he doing…?” the bronzerider added, looking at Calerin almost nervously before he bit his lip and then added, “Um…hello…” He tilted his head to one side: T’rid didn’t know how to talk to babies and he refused to put on some high-pitched giggly voice for any baby’s sake, even one as ‘nice’ (quote Corinth) one as Calerin. “Do you – did you want Corinth? You can borrow him, if you want…I need him back, though. And he’ll probably let you do whatever you want – he’s mean to me, but he’s really nice to everyone else…” He nodded absently, glancing at Corinth, who had reached his muzzle out to Calerin again, crooning gently to the toddler.

So not scary; what was His so scared of?~

[boober]

Calerin stared at T’rid.

He didn’t want to /borrow/ Corinth. He wanted to take him home. And if the bronze was mean to T’rid, then why not give him to someone else? Calerin was sure that Dramuth would be nice to T’rid; the brown was pleasant to everyone, unless they gave him a very specific reason not to be. The child looked over at Aryna, who was clearly amused as she sat watching the scene unfold. “That’s as good as it’s going to get, boy. You better go play with your bronze while you have the chance.” Looking somewhat disappointed that he wouldn’t be taking a bronze home with him that afternoon, Calerin nonetheless turned to face the bronze in question. He was determined to barter him away from T’rid at some point, but for now he supposed borrowing would suffice. Being the reasonable toddler he was, Calerin didn’t throw a tantrum at not getting his way; he simply began to plot other ways to get what he wanted.

Dramuth looked on, his own amusement whirling in his eyes as the little boy promptly started looking Corinth up and down. He then wandered over to the bronze’s tail and immediately began to climb, using the dragon’s ‘ridges as hand- and footholds. Fearless child. It didn’t seem to occur to him that Corinth might actually /mind/ being climbed upon. Dramuth rumbled at the boy as he scooted forward on the bronze’s back. Calerin. His name is Calerin. He is quite an amusing child. Amusing indeed. After a few moments it almost looked as if the toddler intended to fly off with Corinth. If T’rid didn’t want to bargain reasonably, then maybe he would just take the bronze and leave him the brown. He would still be able to get home that way at least. Scoot, scoot, scoot. The wings were harder to navigate this way, but Calerin was careful as he crawled up Corinth’s back like a little bug before finally flopping down in the customary rider’s spot on the dragon’s shoulders.

Aryna didn’t look concerned in the least; if Calerin fell off, the sand was soft. As long as he didn’t land on his head, he would probably be fine. She’d found out the last few days that the child was quite strong and resilient. Like most toddlers, he’d done his fair share of trips, falls, and faceplants. He even had a few cuts and bruises now as a result of his adventures, but nothing serious and nothing worth fretting over. Of course, the first few times he’d fallen, Aryna had expected him to break into a million little tiny pieces but she’d only gotten strange looks for her concern as the boy had simply gotten back on his feet and went on his merry way. It was really quite nerve-wracking, until she realized that if she didn’t stop worrying so much about it, she was going to have gray hair by the time she was in her third decade. That simply would not do. Now, she just watched Calerin and tsked at the child’s antics.

“I dunno, looks like you might have to give up your bronze after all; the kid’s pretty determined.” And what could she possibly offer him to take his mind off of stealing T’rid’s dragon? What was better than a bronze to a little boy? Nothing that she could think of.

T’rid was in trouble.

[Avu]

And T’rid stared back.

He didn’t know what else to do, quite honestly. The bronzerider went out of his way to avoid babies and toddlers in general. The Weyrbrats that ran around were largely ignored, unless one of them was directly in his way, which case the attention they received was a brief glance and being sidestepped – and more often than not, he’d only gotten the same treatment. Definitely not any intense interaction there, and that was the way he preferred it. Oh, he’d be an absolutely stunning father, he would. On the upside, it was likely to be Raylin who was constantly fussing over the baby, so he wouldn’t have to dote on the baby when it arrived – they had time yet, but funny how his stomach swooped sickeningly at the thought. How much longer…? Six months. Six months wasn’t exactly a short time, but – it seemed short. Far too short. So he stared at Calerin, waiting for the little boy to do something. Cry, shriek – something noisy and something that fit the stereotypical whiny, wailing baby. Which he didn’t. This only served to confuse the bronzerider, and T’rid squinted warily, brushing his hand absently down the front of his shirt to dust the excess sand off of himself.

Is he trying to ride you? The bronzerider’s eyes widened in alarm and amusement as the toddler climbed up Corinth’s tail, and T’rid sat up straighter, draping his arms into his lap and staring blankly after Calerin. He half-expected the boy to fall flat or something – or for Corinth to twitch and for him to sprawl – something disastrous that would result in his being beat over the head for allowing it to happen by Aryna. Yes, that was the stereotype that he was stuck on: Overprotective mothers blaming all the wrong people. He didn’t think Raylin would be like that – biased, who, T’rid? Of course not! – but there had to be mothers that were like that (or foster-mothers, in this case), or else it would never have become a stereotype. It made sense to him, anyway, and T’rid actually scooted a little closer, in a mixture of nervousness (just in case the kid fell and he had to – to catch him, or something) and vague amused interest.

What does it look like he’s doing? Corinth inquired politely of T’rid, the obvious amusement in his tone almost emerging in a low rumble. He refrained, however; the bronze was focused on holding absolutely still as Calerin climbed past his wings – though Corinth did spread both wings wide, parallel to the ground, to get them out of the toddler’s way. As soon as Calerin had settled, the bronze dragon turned his head around to nuzzle the little boy, crooning pleasantly at him – and Corinth licked him; a decidedly affectionate touch. The bronze’s tongue was dry, little more than a touch that was barely there. He licked people he didn’t like, too – but those licks were deliberately slobbery just to make a point. Only then did he answer Dramuth, his jewel-faceted gaze, blue and green in serene amusement, flicking towards the brown dragon. Very amusing indeed… And then, to Calerin himself: I’m afraid I’m not wearing straps, little one…perhaps once I am wearing them I can take you flying and we can leave Mine behind, yes?

“Excuse you!” T’rid interjected indignantly, and received only a flip of Corinth’s tail – a decidedly dismissive gesture. Crinkling his nose, the bronzerider glanced at Aryna at the brownrider’s words, and then crinkled his nose again. “Can’t you convince him to get his own bronze…? Or could he go steal Ciceroth or Salenth instead? They’re bigger…Corinth’s absolutely tiny, surely he doesn’t want Corinth…” Even though, apparently, he did. Brilliant. “I’ll take him to steal one of the larger bronzes, I don’t mind…I’d rather prefer to keep Corinth, though. I must be masochistic, but there it is…” He’d never admit it, either, but he was at his happiest when he was arguing with Corinth – that did sound masochistic, didn’t it…?