Post by neeuqtar on Nov 4, 2009 19:23:38 GMT -5
The afternoon was when the majority of people were active. Lessons for the weyrlings were done, the heat of the day was over, and it was the perfect temperature to bathe dragons or to soak up the early autumn sunlight. Well, most people. For wherhandlers and riders of photophobes, it was far too bright to be wandering about in the daylight. Uu’n, for example, was working on a new set of fighting straps for him and Adith, sheltered from the bite of the sun inside of his weyr. The “furway” was pulled back to allow light, but it was indirect. Adith lounged outside, his goggles covered with a shield of furs through which no light would penetrate. The dragon glowed with health, and by the slow rise and fall of his chest it was easy to see that he was close to sleep, if not there already.
In lieu of a dragon to design on, Uu’n had fashioned a mock-dragon on which to fit straps. Made of curved wooden slats over which was stretched hide, the mock-dragon was a passable facsimile of a dragon’s chest, forelimbs, wing stubs, and back, and approximately the same size as Adith. Overtop of these low-quality hides, Uu’n had drawn in chalk the normal outlines of fighting straps. The current set he was working on followed to this pattern… mostly. The added aspect here was weaponry.
After a lot of thought, Uu’n had decided to go with spears. Lots of spears. And a spear-thrower. But spears had to be stored somewhere where they could be out of the way, not stab him or his dragon, and be easily accessible in the heat of a battle. An airborne battle. Daggers simply did not function when the enemy was dragonlengths away, particularly when they would only swoop in close enough to rip off your dragon’s wings before teleporting away. He shivered at the thought, and for a moment Uu’n could feel tendrils of cold so numbing is sucked life away curling around his ankles and drifting up his legs, like he was sinking into the stone he stood on. He shook himself, mentally berating himself for such weakness. Still, he swung up onto the mock-dragon, where the saddle rested on a piece of hide-covered wood, and lay down along the incline of the “neck.”
Uu’n closed his eyes, imagining that he was flying, and automatically sank into the crouch dragonriders rode in. Without opening his eyes, the man reached back, hand questing for the haft of a spear. He had to fumble around, and sighed. Not good enough. He propped his hands under his chin and opened his eyes to see a golden salamandyr a hair’s-width away from his nose. Uu’n squeaked and shoved himself upright, falling off of the mock dragon to land on the furs piled there for that very reason.
“Shardit Dael! Do you always have to do that?!” She pranced, her tail curled up over her back in a question mark, frill wide.
Silly ugly mineface falls off fake’dith like a pretty! she said sneeringly, clearly making fun of him. He harrumphed, turning over and shoving himself up off the floor.
“Thanks a lot,” he said, wry. “I need to move the spear-holders forward two hands or so. Tilted, you think?” Dael looked at him like he was crazy for asking, and he grinned. “You’re cute,” he informed her, fishing out a meatball powdered in flour from a bag on his belt. They were slightly squished, but he tossed one up. She leapt off her perch and snagged it in her hind feet midair, before gliding over to the fur curtains shrouding the entrance to eat it there. And Uu’n got back to work, pinning the many narrow strips of leather in a different position to try again.
Adith only appeared to be sleeping. Well aware that Uu’n was good at telling when he was up to “mischief,” Adith carefully breathed as slowly as he could, filling up his lungs with care and exhaling gently. It was enough to make a sunning dragon tired, and he didn’t even twitch as he laid there, plotting. His Uu’n-love was busy enough with the gold worm (who had already been recruited to keep her putative owner busy) and the new strap pattern to not try and chat with the obviously sleeping Adith, nor to think oddly of the dragon’s silence.
This business with K’lir-Baoth’s had gone on long enough. Adith was tired of seeing His mope about and then completely fail to say anything to the object of his affections. The dragon had already gotten used to sharing His with the worm, and through her with K’lir. And anyway, K’lir belonged to the Showoff-worm, who belonged to the gold worm, who belonged to Uu’n, who of course was Adith’s. So technically K’lir was Adith’s, though the blue dragon didn’t think he would attempt to bring that up with the clever, ‘snake-like Baoth who had claimed the man when… when what? He didn’t remember, but that had never troubled him. Baoth had come after the Dael-worm had claimed K’lir’s worm, he was sure of that much. So she was an interloper. Technically.
Well, he would still deal with her. That was the way things were done, and even though he wasn’t really part of the Weyr (how could he be, if he wasn’t allowed to be with the Wings? Nevermind that he couldn’t fly with them in the daytime, let alone fight with them), he would still be polite to her. He hated when dragons got angry with him, because it just made him angry and then His angry, and he hated for his Uu’n-love to be angry.
Baoth? Would you ask yours to come to mine and Uu’n’s weyr? With your permission, I will explain to him as he comes. Subtly, he turned his mind to Uu’n, letting just how warm he was seep through their bond, how much he wished he could get cooler.
In the cave, Uu’n fanned himself with a spread of leather.
“Faranth, you’d think it would be cooler in a cave,” he grumbled, glaring through the furway at the sunny skies. Sunlight fell across his lightly-tanned skin, and he made a face. “I guess I’m just not used to the sunlight.” Rolling his shoulders, he stepped over to the rack where Adith’s other straps hung, and stripped off his shirt, chucking it onto the bars before heading back over to his work. He vaulted up onto the mock-dragon, settling himself carefully into the pin-studded straps.
Dael gaped at him, displaying ivory fangs.
“Do not bite me,” he informed her, “Or you will be eating bugs for the next month.” She hissed at that idea, and Uu’n’s lips quirked into a smile. Well, maybe.
In lieu of a dragon to design on, Uu’n had fashioned a mock-dragon on which to fit straps. Made of curved wooden slats over which was stretched hide, the mock-dragon was a passable facsimile of a dragon’s chest, forelimbs, wing stubs, and back, and approximately the same size as Adith. Overtop of these low-quality hides, Uu’n had drawn in chalk the normal outlines of fighting straps. The current set he was working on followed to this pattern… mostly. The added aspect here was weaponry.
After a lot of thought, Uu’n had decided to go with spears. Lots of spears. And a spear-thrower. But spears had to be stored somewhere where they could be out of the way, not stab him or his dragon, and be easily accessible in the heat of a battle. An airborne battle. Daggers simply did not function when the enemy was dragonlengths away, particularly when they would only swoop in close enough to rip off your dragon’s wings before teleporting away. He shivered at the thought, and for a moment Uu’n could feel tendrils of cold so numbing is sucked life away curling around his ankles and drifting up his legs, like he was sinking into the stone he stood on. He shook himself, mentally berating himself for such weakness. Still, he swung up onto the mock-dragon, where the saddle rested on a piece of hide-covered wood, and lay down along the incline of the “neck.”
Uu’n closed his eyes, imagining that he was flying, and automatically sank into the crouch dragonriders rode in. Without opening his eyes, the man reached back, hand questing for the haft of a spear. He had to fumble around, and sighed. Not good enough. He propped his hands under his chin and opened his eyes to see a golden salamandyr a hair’s-width away from his nose. Uu’n squeaked and shoved himself upright, falling off of the mock dragon to land on the furs piled there for that very reason.
“Shardit Dael! Do you always have to do that?!” She pranced, her tail curled up over her back in a question mark, frill wide.
Silly ugly mineface falls off fake’dith like a pretty! she said sneeringly, clearly making fun of him. He harrumphed, turning over and shoving himself up off the floor.
“Thanks a lot,” he said, wry. “I need to move the spear-holders forward two hands or so. Tilted, you think?” Dael looked at him like he was crazy for asking, and he grinned. “You’re cute,” he informed her, fishing out a meatball powdered in flour from a bag on his belt. They were slightly squished, but he tossed one up. She leapt off her perch and snagged it in her hind feet midair, before gliding over to the fur curtains shrouding the entrance to eat it there. And Uu’n got back to work, pinning the many narrow strips of leather in a different position to try again.
Adith only appeared to be sleeping. Well aware that Uu’n was good at telling when he was up to “mischief,” Adith carefully breathed as slowly as he could, filling up his lungs with care and exhaling gently. It was enough to make a sunning dragon tired, and he didn’t even twitch as he laid there, plotting. His Uu’n-love was busy enough with the gold worm (who had already been recruited to keep her putative owner busy) and the new strap pattern to not try and chat with the obviously sleeping Adith, nor to think oddly of the dragon’s silence.
This business with K’lir-Baoth’s had gone on long enough. Adith was tired of seeing His mope about and then completely fail to say anything to the object of his affections. The dragon had already gotten used to sharing His with the worm, and through her with K’lir. And anyway, K’lir belonged to the Showoff-worm, who belonged to the gold worm, who belonged to Uu’n, who of course was Adith’s. So technically K’lir was Adith’s, though the blue dragon didn’t think he would attempt to bring that up with the clever, ‘snake-like Baoth who had claimed the man when… when what? He didn’t remember, but that had never troubled him. Baoth had come after the Dael-worm had claimed K’lir’s worm, he was sure of that much. So she was an interloper. Technically.
Well, he would still deal with her. That was the way things were done, and even though he wasn’t really part of the Weyr (how could he be, if he wasn’t allowed to be with the Wings? Nevermind that he couldn’t fly with them in the daytime, let alone fight with them), he would still be polite to her. He hated when dragons got angry with him, because it just made him angry and then His angry, and he hated for his Uu’n-love to be angry.
Baoth? Would you ask yours to come to mine and Uu’n’s weyr? With your permission, I will explain to him as he comes. Subtly, he turned his mind to Uu’n, letting just how warm he was seep through their bond, how much he wished he could get cooler.
In the cave, Uu’n fanned himself with a spread of leather.
“Faranth, you’d think it would be cooler in a cave,” he grumbled, glaring through the furway at the sunny skies. Sunlight fell across his lightly-tanned skin, and he made a face. “I guess I’m just not used to the sunlight.” Rolling his shoulders, he stepped over to the rack where Adith’s other straps hung, and stripped off his shirt, chucking it onto the bars before heading back over to his work. He vaulted up onto the mock-dragon, settling himself carefully into the pin-studded straps.
Dael gaped at him, displaying ivory fangs.
“Do not bite me,” he informed her, “Or you will be eating bugs for the next month.” She hissed at that idea, and Uu’n’s lips quirked into a smile. Well, maybe.