To the river (Tags Symling)

[raii]

She didn't want to go do chores. Karou decided no one could lecture her on her laziness if she wasn’t at the Weyr, so she went for a walk. Chores, she thought scornfully. I shouldn't be reduced to this. I'm no thirteen year old candidate! How had that thirteen year old weyrbrat managed to Impress, yet she hadn't? It was what, his first Hatching, and maybe her fourth? She snorted quietly to herself. What's the point of being searched if you just became the undesirable of somewhere else?

Searching seemed to be a completely unnecessary process. People who weren’t searched could Impress in stands. Weyrbrats seemed to always Impress, some even young, like that girl who had looked to be maybe ten or eleven, maybe twelve, and that thirteen year old bronzeweyrling. Yet, people who had been searched and hoped for a new start might not get it. Same situation, different place. Dragons just didn’t like her. Maybe it was her bitterness?

No, there were bitter riders. Besides, her bitterness wasn’t even her fault! Or, maybe, after all, it was her fault. Why had she taken her sister on walks through the woods in the first place? They both knew it could be dangerous. It had never been before. Why hadn’t they emerged unscathed like all those other times? Karou gently touched the pinkish-white scar over her collar bone, sending a jolt of anger and guilt.

She emerged from the path, her feet subconsciously bringing her to water. It made sense. It was hot. Hot and almost impossibly bright. She squinted her eyes from the sun. She turned away from the light, towards the river. Grumbling about the heat and the sun and all the things that seemed to make this day completely detestable, she pulled off her heavy black boots and stockings. She rolled up her pant legs up to her knees.

Karou waded into the water, only until the water was just past her calves. The water was cool, a welcome relief on such a hot day. She could feel her shoulders heat up as the sun shone down on them, but knew she wouldn’t burn. Regardless of her strangely pale skin, she seemed immune to any tan or burn sun related. She gazed past the river, watching the light dance across the water, before beginning to hum softly.

The hum turned into a song. The song was wordless, as most of Karou’s spontaneous compositions. Her voice weaved through incredibly high notes, leaving a haunting melody hanging in the air. It began soft, barely audible, and slowly built until it filled the air around her. Then, she abruptly stopped for a moment, before starting up again, soft and slow, before ending with a final note, higher than she had hit in the whole song.

[glamourie]

There is a person here. You should come tell her to stop invading near my spot.

Despite his light color, it was very easy to overlook the dragon near the river’s edge. He was, after all, woven in the large rock clusters. For being one of the largest bronzes on Pern and the largest at Selenitas (solely by the virtue of having wider wings, but that was irrelevant), Ciceroth was a creature who very easily fit in with his surroundings. He was good at being perfectly still. It helped that the scarring on his back hid the vivid, almost gold glint to his hide. (Ciceroth looked like a sunset woven into hide; he was definitely a good looking dragon, even if he got mistaken for a gold on a semi-regular basis – a result of being larger than Jingth.) Only those looking for him would spy him there at the river side, and that was the point of curling in those rocks. They were his rocks, he’d decided. But then, if someone asked Ciceroth, he’d probably say Selenitas a whole was his. He did have an over-inflated sense of self-worth on some levels.

His eyes whirled curious shades as he peeked out from the rock cluster to see the movement in the river. Most people didn’t come out that far. It was primarily a dragon-only spot. This one wasn’t one he recognized – though that wasn’t that odd; Ciceroth did not make a habit of memorizing the two-leggeds. They were odd. Her humming intrigued him though and he lifted his head, watching her from behind silently. Her lack of awareness to his presence amused him and only when her humming seemed to die down did he decide to draw attention to himself – well-aware of Ka’rys’s approach. The bronze’s rider was coming from the Weyr central (he hadn’t slept a wink since the hatchling’s Impression – quite odd, as far as Ciceroth was concerned) and therefore had a way to walk. Maybe he’d keep the person entertained until he arrived – she looked suspiciously out of place. Candidate? Why wasn’t she inside doing chores or lessons or something? Hmm.

Waving his tail, Ciceroth abruptly struck the water with it, sending a wave directly at her back. He uncurled himself and settled, perching on top of the rocks, claws nestled in the rock so that his long, serpentine form was easily identifiable. He waved his tail back around his body and flared his wings, ready to beat them again as a mischievous gleam flashed through his eyes. Shame she didn’t swim unclothed like most humanlings did – some of his devious weyrling tendencies lingered. One of them was the fondness for stealing clothes and forcing people to chase him around in nothing but their skin. Ka’rys still got angry with him for it (he did so adore tormenting His) – and this girl who went out all on her lonesome looked like she would be an apt target for such treatment. Yes, she did. He rolled his claws into the rock before crooning playfully and flapping his wings – sending another group of waves at her.

If she was going to invade his sanctuary, the least she could do was keep him entertained. So sayeth Ciceroth. And he was sure that Hepaticath would agree, if he needed reinforcement. Harumph.

[raii]

Almost out of no where, a wave hit her back. She whirled around. Why were there waves in the river? She noted the source in an instant. It was a pale bronze curled up by the rocks. "What the..." He waved his tail, and spread his wings. Flapping his wings, he sent another series of waves towards her. She braced herself.

She was all wet now. What indignity! Her black hide pants were dripping, possibly ruined, and her blouse clung to her body uncomfortable. She inspected her clothing for a moment, annoyence growing. "Shells! What are you trying to do?" She glared at the bronze dragon, her gaze devoid of respect, or even kindness.

"You're a bronze, right? Full grown, yes? Why didn't anyone teach you any sharding manners!" Her eyes flashed. How dare this bronze be so rude to her? Just because he was some pretty, shiny color, didn't mean he could treat others this way! She tugged her black hair over her shoulder unhappilly, squeezing the excess water back into the river.

"I expect a solid apology for such rudeness! Rank gives you no right to treat me so rudely. Honestly, I have never seen you in my life and you...you...bombard me with disgusting water!" Karou snorted unhappilly, her green eyes flashing. Hadn't she been through enough? She was extrodinarilly unhappy because yet another hatching had passed her by.

"Rude little dragon," she muttered, glaring at him. She seethed inwardly, her anger actually quite palpable. You do not mess with Karou after she hadn't Impressed. It usually put her in a quite unhappy mood for at least days, often weeks. "Pfft," she shook her head. "Sorry," she muttered almost inauditably. "Just don't do that."

[glamourie]

Was she honestly yelling at him? Ciceroth cocked his head to the side, half-wading in the water, the stream rippling against his legs. He crouched down, wings clamped against his sides, and lowered his head until he was face-to-face with the obviously irritated girl. The amusement whirling through his eyes was undeniable to anyone who was familiar with draconids. The bronze flicked his tail amiably, watching as the girl whose name and face he didn’t know (all too common – Ciceroth didn’t remember anyone who did not make an impression and even if he remembered them, it was rare for him to give them names) appear to throw quite the spectacular tantrum. So upset. So angry. So funny. Did he look like anything else but a fully grown bronze? As one of the largest dragons at Selenitas (bigger, even, than Jingth), it was undeniable that he was an adult – although he’d been mistaken for a gold on more than one occasion due to how light and glimmery his hide was. (Ciceroth’s hide looked more like the sunset than any bronze’s ought, and the healthy glow was definitely prettier than many of his color – there was a reason Salenth jokingly referred to him as his gold.)

Disgusting water? She was the one wading around in it. Ciceroth crooned, the sound blatantly amused, and then rumbled his laughter. Leaning his head down, he nudged the tantruming girl over with his snout, quite clearly ignoring her displeasure at his behavior. There was nothing disgusting about the river water. It was clean, clear, and fun to play in. She needed to lighten up. And if she hadn’t seen him before, she wasn’t looking very carefully: Ciceroth was a hard dragon to overlook, even if his rider was completely antisocial.

This one is funny, Rysmine. She thinks I’d actually talk to her, he commented to his rider, clearly entertained. Ciceroth did not bespeak anyone but Ka’rys unless he had absolutely no other option. Not even people who could speak to all dragons were rewarded with a response from Ciceroth – he simply refused to talk to anyone but His. His logic was simple: he’d picked Ka’rys, he loved him, Ka’rys was His, why did he need to talk to anyone else? Other dragons got responses, yes, but that was different. Humans were not his. Not his. And this girl especially wasn’t, although the little fit reminded him a lot of Ka’rys. Except Ka’rys had better aim.

Casually, Ciceroth flopped over in the water, intentionally making a splash, and looked straight at the girl with glimmering bronze eyes. His was coming – although when he arrived was anybody’s guess. He was slow sometimes. This one was funny. A mental prod and –

Splish, splash. Crish, crash. Humanling not mine, squeak so fine. Why yell Shiny? Not work, you’re fine; Shiny answer only Monstermine. The commentary came from the water near Karou, and a moment later, a fancifully colored blue salamandyr darted up her leg, side, over her back to come and rest squarely on the top of her head. Merce. Ever since Ophelie’s death, the blue had been avoiding His quite adamantly; he felt like a pest. That in and of itself wouldn’t have been so bad, except his presence angered His so much. No pets, he’d say. Wanted no pets. Merce wasn’t a pet. Merce was a salamandyr. But he didn’t understand and it hurt Merce to see His so upset. So he stayed with the big obnoxious bronze thing because that was as close to His as he could get without causing harm. And because sometimes, the big ugly made funny things happen. Like right then. Who, who?

See? Ciceroth didn’t have to speak to her. Merce would do it for him.

[raii]

He peered down at her, rumbling with amusement. Before she could let out an indignant response, he nudged her over. She fell backwards into the water, now effectively soaked. “Hey!” A voice entered her mind, confusing and difficult to comprehend. A salamanyr crawled out of the water, onto her head. “I don’t care if he doesn’t talk to people! I demand an apology and I demand he stop. He can speak through you if he likes, I suppose. So long as you don’t prove to be loud and obnoxious, that is.”

Karou didn’t particularly like salamandyrs, but as long as this one didn’t give her a headache, she would tolerate him. He asked her who. What, like what was her name? She hated speaking to salamandyrs. She never knew what they were saying. “What do you mean, who who? Who am I? I’m Karou. I was minding my own business and was rewarded by a stupid dragon assaulting me with cold water.”

Rude little salamandyr, rude big dragon. Where was his rider? Why hadn’t his rider kept the unruly bronze under control? She stood up, wringing out her hair again. She glared up at the bronze. He didn’t know her, he refused to speak with her, and yet he was playing with her like some sort of toy. This did not amuse Karou. Not one bit.

“And who are you?” She directed this to both the bronze and the salamandyr, but then looked at the salamandyr. Of course only the salamandyr would answer. This thought made her bristle with anger. Arrogant beast, refusing to talk to her. He had no problem with pushing her over or sending water her way, but talk to her? Of course not! How rude!