Cold shoulder [ Sym~ ]

[rii]

Saboth remained perched on the outer edge, tail hanging over the ledge while he casually glanced back in the direction of his bonded before returning to view the bronze and green, the latter he directed a friendly, soft rumble as greeting. As Ciceroth revealed his plan, Saboths eyes whirled thoughtfully, blues and greens rolling over each other like waves of a wind hazed sea. The suggestion to give Ahth's more chores amused him. Not quite as effective (in his mind, or his bonded) but certainly less violent. It would keep that other from His, but what of the little ones? Well, His would agree to punishing the source, not the pawns.

F'lix regarded Ka'rys silently, but with rapt attention. Honesty. Blunt and brutal honesty. A smile (a real honest to goodness smile) crossed his lips and the bluerider sat up a bit straighter instead of slumping against the wall. Being called a Selenitas rider came as a surprise, and F'lix almost felt that foreign bubbling happiness rise up in his chest. It was a first. People always referred to him as Benden--not adding him as a member of the Weyr. So whether he liked it or not, Ka'rys had just earned F'lix respect (if he remembered this when he got well). No games. No manipulating. F'lix appreciated just being told the plain, simple truth--already knowing truth was an ugly thing, but he preferred it to the best looking sugar-coated lie.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" He lightly jested, took Ka'rys hand and stood to his feet. And, sadly, instantly wobbled and had to clutch onto the bronzerider's shoulder to keep from tumbling head first down the stairs. No clinging to the other, F'lix now saw Ka'rys as someone to be respected and not to use as a warm pillow. Although that idea still appealed to the cold bluerider. He slightly pouted while looking over his shoulder; he wished he had grabbed some of his furs for the trip. His free hand palmed the wall as he tried to edge down the stairs, each one a bit shaky as he had little strength to expend. Grimacing he glanced side-long at his guide, "Sorry, hard to walk." Then, as if his mind had drifted off, his eyes slightly hazed over. "Careful of your paper. They like paper, and ink. Got it all over the room. Nasty vermin they are.. "

Back at the infirmary, Saboth amusement doubled, the whirling in his eyes crashing and merging into a pleasant display of blue-greens. Softly he spoke to the other two, his own voice a deep rumbling as the sounds he made. I should have told you, the best way to get Mine to cooperate is to tell him the truth. He hates liars, of all types. He appreciates Yours being blunt.

[Requiem]

Phremath crooned happily at her favorite bronze. It must have truly been an odd sight...as the small, flawless green (but for the tiny wings) was one of the smallest at Selenitas, if not throughout all Pern, and Ciceroth was on the complete other end of the spectrum...bigger even than some golds. He made her feel safe and she liked large dragons for that reason. Plus they had such beautiful wings! He always spread his for her. Of course, he wasn't quite as cuddly as her Dohulth, whom she missed terribly since relocating to the infirmary with KaliHers. Even though she could have stayed on at the weyr, Hers wasn't always available and sometimes it was good to have a dragon to help with things right here at the infirmary.

It is good that they are all well. Mine is a little tired, but she is well, and so is Dohulth's, Phremath added, in the interest of politeness. The green adjusted so that his head fell more comfortably upon her, eyes whirling in peaceful tones. His words caught her interest, they did. Ahth's? Wasn't he a...yes, a weyrling, according to Ciceroth. Silly bonebag, getting into trouble. And when everything was so not good around here, too. I shall ask her. Do you think Ahth or His would listen if I spoke to them? I'm sure it's just a misunderstating or something. Phremath always thought the best of people and dragons, even now. (It probably helped that her memory wasn't very long.)

The rumbling greeting caught Phremath off-guard. Oh! She hadn't noticed the lovely blue over by the edge - though how she hadn't she couldn't fathom. This must be...and here Ciceroth was explaining some more. Yes, he must be Saboth. Poor thing, to have his rider ill. She was glad Hers couldn't get ill! (Kalierre had told her, when she asked why all the other healers seemed to be getting sick when the Dragonhealer was still healthy, that she was far too ornery to get sick.)

Phremath crooned at the voice of the blue. He sounded nice! And not at all worried. Odd, but brave. Yes. Brave. Oh, Mine always tells the truth. Most of the time bonebags don't like to hear it, though. Actually, Kalierre hadn't always been so forthcoming, but the south had changed her, and as far as Phremath was concerned...yes, Kali always did. She might not say everything, but she definitely didn't pull punches when she did bring it up. Phremath glanced back toward the dragon entrance to the infirmary and the figure standing there, braced against the arch leading inside. KaliMine says that Ahth's help is welcome...and that if there are any more troublemakers, feel free to send them to her. She's always got unsa - unsay - unsayvorily chores, the green commented to both males.

As Kalierre began to cross over in the direction of the dragons, a hand up to keep the wind from blinding her too terribly as it tugged portions of her hair loose from her braid, Phremath's attention turned fully to the blue. You are Saboth, then? Don't worry about Yours...KaliMine will take good care of him.

[glamourie]

Very good news, that. Ciceroth meant those words; he didn’t particularly like the idea of the WeyrDragonhealer becoming ill. While it was true that RysHis did not like Phremath’s, it was equally true that he believed her necessary to the Weyr to keep everyone safe and well, especially with Checkoth’s so sick. Dohulth and His were not really registered on Ciceroth’s mental radar (he tended to ignore dragons not on his Wing) but he was glad to know that they were all well. He nuzzled Phremath before adding, I do not know Ahth or His, but considering that I often see Baoth with Ahth, I would guess not. Baoth’s is not very reasonable. He didn’t know Baoth at all, but he remembered Hers, from when he was Calistoth’s, and if she was anything like Calistoth, her chosen companions could be estimated to be impossible. It seemed like a leap of logic, didn’t it? Either way, I think it would do Ahth’s some good to spend time here in the infirmary. I believe he has too much time on his hands if he is spending it bothering Saboth’s. That was logic that he just knew Ka’rys would approve of; his rider didn’t like people being bored… and using that boredom to annoy others.

The rest of Phremath’s words made Ciceroth rumble and his eyes whirled pleasant shades. Unsavory chores sounded like a good way to put Ahth’s in line; if nothing else, he couldn’t annoy people if he was busy. The bronze twitched his tail and turned to look at Saboth as he spoke before rumbling, Oh good. Rysmine has a gift for alienating people as you will quickly come to realize. Phremath, if you wouldn’t mind, can you please alert Yours to the fact that Mine is coming and is more grumpy than usual? I don’t particularly look forward to the idea of them bickering. Kalierre and Ka’rys not getting along wasn’t anything new, but… for once, he thought it would be a good idea if they could try to be peaceful. Hoping for miracles, was he? Perhaps.

Ka’rys blinked at F’lix’s smile, more than a little unnerved; most people did not respond well to his bluntness. Typically being so open resulted in bitterness from those around him… especially since he’d just confessed to not liking F’lix on a personal level. But that wasn’t really meant as a reflection of F’lix’s personality. He was from Benden which meant they’d never be friends – Ka’rys couldn’t befriend anyone who spent time at Benden, because who knew how many people important to him they’d killed? – but he was a Selenitas rider, and Ka’rys was Junior Weyrleader. He didn’t have to care about someone for them to be his. He didn’t have to like someone for him to be willing to fight for them. Point in question: Aliscia of Green Tanith. He did not like her at all… but he’d die for her. But he was pretty sure if he told her “I don’t like you!” that she wouldn’t be smiling about it. So bizarre.

At least he took his hand. Ka’rys quickly grasped the other man’s upper arms, in response to his own shoulders being grabbed, but he didn’t indicate anything about his thoughts on the wobbling; being sick was weakness, yes, but it was understandable weakness, and he didn’t judge others based on that… usually. His hand on the arm closest to him remained and he moved down the stairs backwards, putting himself between F’lix and the bottom. “We’re going to go down to the middle level and cross on the rope bridge over to the infirmary,” he explained, as Ciceroth piped up in his mind with an explanation – apparently this one liked being verbally browbeaten. So odd.

Wait, who…? “Who likes paper?” His head tilted to the side as he led the way, keeping one hand on F’lix to keep him steady. “Who got it all over the room? Who are ‘they’?”

[rii]

Saboth stretched his neck low, muzzle extending toward Phremath. He was not close enough to touch her, and given he did not move from his perch on the edge, that was not his intention. His wings extended very slightly and dipped, if anything, it was a small, polite bow. Yes, I am Saboth, and you are Phremath. Thank you, and Yours, for the help. I trust mine will be safe here. His eyes whirled pleasantly with the blues and greens, and he added in a more amused tone. Tell Yours she can be as truthful as she wants with Mybonebag. And, rumbling with soft laughter, Saboth directed the friendly sound toward the approaching Kalierre.

Yes Ciceroth. I hope yours is not disappointed that mine did not get annoyed in return. Most people tell such truths to try and aggravate Mine. Saboth straightened back up in his seat, tail flicking back and forth over the edge while he turned his attention toward his bonded.

"The little green darters," F'lix said in a drifting tone, his fingers dancing over the wall as if a running a lizard. (Luckily Saboth provided the image, from his perspective, to Ciceroth--of the two green salamandyrs tearing up his bonded's weyr.) "They got into my room while I was gone, probably didn't expect me to come back. I caught one, but then the flits came in.. it must be annoying, so many pests around, running wild. I think people are too lazy to discipline them. They just spoil and encourage them. I hate these pests.." Yet killing one pest would equal (if not close to) killing their dragon. How annoying was that? Who in their right mind would allow themselves to be bonded to something that put itself in such danger of being so easily killed? Didn't those little salamandyrs realize the risk they put their riders in? Nasty little things! Stupid, worthless creatures! "They are a burden of responsibility, not companions." And no one in their right mind would find a half-wit salamandyr good company.

Finally to the bottom of the stairs, the progress went a bit faster--at least until they made it to the rope bridge. F'lix hand fisted into Ka'rys shirt, instead of grabbing his arm, the cloth was not a person. In a way it further distanced himself from the bronzrider. A noticeable difference in the way F'lix acted now compared to how he had twined shamelessly around Ka'rys in the beginning. He shot the other a very incredulous glare. "I can't fly without wings." He pointed out at all the open air. "I don't think you can either, or.. " He squinted, looking down at Ka'rys arms as if he was hiding a set of fleshy, pink wings. "I don't think.. think that.. "

What was he thinking? F'lix vision blurred, the bluerider swayed on the spot. He gaze slipped away, seeking some sort of anchoring point to steady himself. They fell on the sight of open air just beyond the side of the bridge. Flying? No, they were.. falling. F'lix head felt so light, and his vision darkened so that he only saw the river bank far below. The water would catch him, yes. Blue, pretty blue, like his lovely blue. F'lix eyes fell close and his body went limp..

Saboth wings shuffled nervously while a low rumble echoed deep in his chest. The first signs of distress whirling into his eyes. He could see his bonded. He was not falling, but everything had gone so dark in his rider's mind. Saboth felt as if His was falling. Very strange, he didn't like that feeling. If his rider fell, Saboth would catch him. He would. But he wasn't falling.

Please don't let Mine fall. He spoke quietly, laying his head down on the ledge, remaining so very calm.

[Requiem]

Phremath nudged Ciceroth, peeking from beneath his wing at Saboth rather shyly. You told him about me, didn't you, Cissy? she questioned the bronze quietly, forgetting to shield the blue from the question. She was enchanted by the very polite new blue. Maybe he would like to play with her later? Ciceroth was good for cuddles, yes, but he was too big to play pouncing games with. He'd squish her.

It wasn't that she hadn't heard Ciceroth. She even relayed the messages to Hers...but Phremath was quite easily distracted, that was for certain. It had always been so. Right at this very moment the green was watching Saboth's flicking tail, her outer lids falling to half-cover her eyes as she considered the distance. The problem was, there was a very large bronze mound in her way, and she couldn't really fly out in this situation, could she. Bother. Ciceroth's tail, however, was well within reach.

The small green gathered herself up, pouncing...only to twitch at his voice in her head, the little creature tripping over herself and ending with her chin on top of the base of his tail, her wings fluttering in her surprise. She crooned apologetically at the bronze, hoping she hadn't caught his snout with her tail or anything. Ummm. Mine says...that will be fine.

"No I didn't," Kalierre interjected, passing near her lovely who was gifted with a look of patient suffering. A joke, of course, and Phremath huffed at her for it. "My exact words were 'What's new?' I think I'd have a coronary if he managed to rub two semi-civil words up next to one another. Then again, that's probably his best bet, considering I'm sure he wouldn't be terribly butthurt if I suddenly dropped dead," Kalierre concluded drolly. Nevermind that it had been her concern behind Phremath's question. She simply didn't want to have to deal with utter pandemonium in the weyr on top of a plague, thank you much. And, though she hated to admit it, there were a lot of people she could think of that would be worse than Ka'rys as far as leading the Weyr was concerned. Lesser of two evils, yaddayadda.

Are you sure you want her to be completely honest with Yours? This is KaliMine in a fairly good mood, Phremath questioned Saboth privately, ignoring the suspicious glance from Hers. The dragonhealer frowned, though, upon seeing the sudden shift in the blue. Limping over in his direction, she stared out toward the bridge, a hand falling on his nearest eyeridge. "Hm. He's with Ciceroth's, Saboth. There's nothing you need to worry about," the woman told the dragon, significantly kinder than she was to most humans. Lust peeked out of her shirt, hissing protest, but scampering down to make his way toward the bridge just the same.

Stupid l'rineeater. She shouldn't send him away. Every time she did something bad happened. Stupid l'rineeater.

[glamourie]

Green darters – what? Oh. Wait. Salamandyrs. Ka’rys twisted his face into an unpleasant expression; there were very few salamandyrs that he could stand. Literally, the amount of them he didn’t wish would get drowned in a chamber pot numbered to four: Merce, Lust, Vanity, and Worm. In that order. He only tolerated Worm because of Ophelie’s strong fondness for the green salamandyr, so much did she love her that it bled over, and half the time he found Worm incredibly annoying too. It was a strange sensation, liking a creature that put him into an awkward position as often as she did… But, meh. Live and learn. Aside from those four, every other salamandyr he knew (Shadow included!), he wanted to throw into a cabinet with a lock. They tended to be so annoying. He wasn’t particularly intimidated by the little menaces though, simply because they were so obnoxious. Most of them weren’t foolish enough to come into his weyr. Reggie liked to try and eat salamandyrs and he wasn’t very selective about which ones he attacked.

His wandering thoughts came to a staggering halt as F’lix gripped his sleeve and he turned to look at the other man as he… babbled about flying? Confused, Ka’rys cocked his head to the side, and then immediately grabbed F’lix’s upper arms, pulling the bluerider against him. The result was Ka’rys stumbling back two or three steps as he balanced himself out, and his face twisted. Carefully, Ka’rys looked F’lix over and then… sighed. Unconscious. Which meant he was stuck dealing with the ‘body’ of the other rider, because he was almost certainly not going to wake up to walk over the rope bridge. The bronzerider leaned back against the stone wall and rubbed his temples absently, trying to ignore the agitation swelling through him. While lack of babbling was appealing, F’lix was on the heavy side – for Ka’rys, anyway. Just because he was strong for his size didn’t mean that lifting someone of equal size to him was something that he enjoyed much.

Why would Mine be upset about that? Ciceroth asked of Saboth in confusion, before adding, He won’t let Yours fall… but Rysmine doesn’t expect to annoy people; he just doesn’t care whether he does or not. I think the apathy is why others find him so agitating to be around, because he doesn’t much mind whether he’s liked, disliked, or simply not cared about. It makes no difference to him. Indeed, Ka’rys was the type of person who was happiest when he was otherwise left alone. His goal wasn’t to offend Yours, I don’t believe… I think Rysmine just doesn’t see a virtue in pretending to like someone when he doesn’t. Really, Ka’rys just didn’t like trying to play nicely with Bendenites. They were so offensive by nature. Pretending to like them wasn’t fun. And just because Saboth’s wasn’t on his “to push over the water fall” list didn’t mean Ka’rys wanted to be friends. He didn’t have very many of those.

He was effectively distracted that Ciceroth missed Phremath’s question. It wasn’t until she moved after his twitching tail that he looked down at her and rumbled, curling the end through the air animatedly. He was about to reply to her when Kalierre appeared and his head swiveled around; the bronze offered the dragonhealer a pleasant croon in greeting. Just because Ka’rys didn’t much like her didn’t mean that he felt the same. He didn’t speak, but that was more because of his confusion. His was confused, and thus, so was he. Ciceroth squirmed uncomfortably, eyes whirling an unusual shade of orange, and he turned to look at the rope bridge. Were the two of their riders okay…? Saboth’s wasn’t small enough for His to carry around with any ease. His tail flicked, careful not to hit Phremath, and the bronze cocked his head to the side.

But Ka’rys was not all that worried. After a moment of bracing himself, he carefully pulled F’lix up and actually took to dragging him backwards across the rope bridge. It was probably not the most elegant way to transport someone, but it wouldn’t hurt him and it was the easiest way for him to get the bluerider to the infirmary. He’d gone back and forth to the infirmary enough that he wasn’t terribly fussed by going over the bridge, either – he knew it by heart after all…

[rii]

The touch to his grayed eye ridge made Saboth slightly lift his head and thoughtfully regard Kalirre with one swirling, oddly vibrant blue eye; almost as if he was trying to remember if he knew her. A deep rumbling drifted from his chest, gratitude toward her gesture. Such a strong one, Premath's, to deal with so much death and pain of others. Saboth gently nudged the side of his head against the dragonhealer–careful to not jar her injured hip. A silent acknowledgment of her work before he rested his head back against the floor.

Yes Premath, yours does enough as it is, no need to censor herself around Mine. Although, His long tail curled around the length of his body, the tip trailing lazily in front of his snout, she won't need to say anything at all, Mine seems to have.. passed out. And Saboth too felt a tiredness pulling at his own mind, a darkness from his rider's mind that tried to sunk him down as well. His inner eyelids began to slide down over his eyes. People do odd things, Ciceroth, I don't really know why, but usually they have bad intentions. Especially toward his. But it is good to know that about yours, when my rider gets well I will remind him of this. I am sure Mine will leave Yours alone.

A peculiar thing to say, but Saboth would rather trust people who didn't care enough to hate or like His. It was those that had the intent of harming His, physical or emotionally, that he did not like. Even people who liked His were generally distrusted. Because people had the terrible habit of lying. His did not like liars, and neither did Saboth. His eyes spiraled with blue-greens as he gazed at the rider and other two dragons, trying to stay focused on them and not fade away with his rider. The cold feeling of that descending darkness did not sit well in his chest..

Mine feels hot.. and cold.. I don't like it..

[Requiem]

The bronze mandyr made it across the bridge relatively swiftly, while the leaderman was still adjusting the man in his grip. Lust climbed onto the man that he didn't mind...there was something about him to be remembered, something that made him okay even if he didn't cater to Lust, but the salamandyr was bleary on the details. Anyway, it was not the time to be ornery; the sooner these got across the bridge okay, the sooner his lovepet would stop being stubborn and let him stay where he belonged - with her.

Unusually silent, he moved to claim Ka'rys's other shoulder, tail coiling around as much of the bronzerider's neck as he could manage. Kalierre remained standing next to the blue, saying nothing more than she already had, though Phremath continued to relay the messages. Stubborn man was going to attempt the bridge backwards alone, was he? Her eyes narrowed, and Phre's head came up, the green crooning briefly in acknowledgment. She liked speaking to that brown, she did. Mine had me ask Ruth's to come help Yours, the green told Ciceroth, so that Ciceroth's wouldn't be startled.

He shouldn't have been anyway, though. M'ta didn't bother to quiet his movements. The brownrider knew better than to sneak around near the junior weyrleader again. He hadn't much liked having to cater to a broken foot. Coming up onto his toes near the bronzerider's back, he caught one of the rope railings and used it to swing his body forward and around, landing lightly. Waiting for the bridge to stop it's light swinging, M'ta met Ka'rys's eyes with a shrug. Wasn't his idea. Gathering up F'lix's legs, he straightened and glanced back at the infirmary and the weyrledge where all the dragons still were.

(lol, uber suckiness -_-)

[glamourie]

Oh dear. That was the only response Ciceroth offered to Phremath, though he did turn to look at Kalierre in what was only describable as accusation; she knew, surely, how little His cared for Behruth’s, and of all the people she could pick, it would be him. Yes, Ciceroth believed it was intentional, a passive-aggressive way of baiting a response out of Ka’rys, and part of the bronze was amused, while the other part was worried. His was very tired of late, heavily spawned from having such young hatchlings (Ciceroth even found them noisy at times), and he would not be on his best with the KnifeBoy; he didn’t think it was a good idea to put them together. RysHis didn’t much like Behruth’s, even if they were on the same wing, and the only reason he was calm at drills was because he had something to focus on and was usually at his best – well rested, not hungry in any way, and calm. Bad, bad, bad. Ciceroth didn’t say anything, but the look he offered the dragonhealer was enough; he quickly turned his attention away from her to avoid giving away his discomfort and swiveled his gaze back to Saboth. Yours will be okay. Sleep will help. He believed that because Ka’rys believed it, but honestly, Ciceroth didn’t know that it would – Checkoth’s was sleeping a lot and not getting any better. When humans get sick, their body temperature goes up to fight the sickness. They’re hot inside so the outside feels cold. Phremath’s will fix him.

As the message was relayed to him, Ka’rys barely suppressed a flinch. While it was true that he could use the help, he didn’t particularly fancy dealing with Savitri’s pet brownrider again; he didn’t like him. Not that he disliked him (evidenced by M’ta being on his wing – Ka’rys didn’t put anyone on his wing if he wasn’t willing to die for them, it was one of his personal promises; he believed wings were to be like family) but Ka’rys picked up on an inherent hostility from M’ta that he responded to in kind. Not to mention that he could remember, even if Savitri chose to pretend she’d forgotten, that his weyrmate had picked M’ta over him. He wasn’t particularly bitter, or jealous in any way (he had no reason to be), but it put him on edge. He had trouble trusting someone that Savitri cared more about than she did him, and though he knew she’d deny it, Ka’rys wasn’t one to easily forget transgressions. It was Savitri that he was most annoyed with for that fact, but he found it easier to just avoid M’ta than be reminded of his irritation with his weyrmate that even over a Turn of time hadn’t managed to dilute.

Lust’s arrival suitably distracted him and he turned to offer the bronze salamandyr a slight nod of greeting. “Hi, Lust.” Two words, but easily the most polite thing Ka’rys had ever said to a salamandyr; he usually called them ‘Pests’ or something. He didn’t like their species much, after all. Lust was an exception, but it was a good thing that Merce wasn’t present; the blue likely would have been agitated at His being used as a perch for any other salamandyr, but least of all for a bronze. Merce usually didn’t like sharing. He definitely wasn’t fond of Ophelie (and the feeling was mutual). Then again, Merce was fine with Shadow, so maybe he wouldn’t have faulted Lust. Who knew.

M’ta’s arrival made Ka’rys intentionally tighten his grip on F’lix; the movement of the bridge was enough that he was worried the bluerider might slip from his grasp and tumble to the river below. Fortunately, he did no such thing; Ka’rys’s paranoia knew no bounds. His head tilted up and he nodded mutely to M’ta, no greeting offered but perhaps that was on the kind side. Ironic, it was, that he chose to bespeak the salamandyr as opposed to the other human being. He could feel Ciceroth’s bubbling amusement in the back of his mind and chose to ignore it; no time for bickering between mindmates. His arms settled and he glanced behind him before turning back to M’ta. “Careful with him; he doesn’t actually weigh very much but his clothes are easy to lose your grip on.” His weight was obvious from his size, but Ka’rys wanted to make sure that his promise to Saboth – or rather, Ciceroth’s – was fulfilled. “Ready?” He pulled F’lix up and then started moving backwards, glancing over his shoulder repeatedly to make sure that he was on the center of the bridge. He didn’t trust M’ta to keep him from tumbling down – but then, should he have?