Tidal Weyrlings (Lesson Ten)

[weaving]

Weyrlingmaster I’fael wishes for you to meet him in the classroom. Please bring with you your fighting straps and flying leathers. The straps are to be left outside with your dragons. Today is important. Do not be late. Morendoth waited out in the training field, straps already near him, meant as an example for the weyrlings who would be arriving. He had been sprawled out lazily, though had pulled himself into a more dignified position with his announcement. It’d do the weyrlings no good to see him lying around like a tub of lard.

I’fael was seated, though stood as his students filed in. When it looked like no more were coming, he collected the stack of papers that had been sitting on the desk. He didn’t bother to wait for any late-comers, speaking as soon as everyone that was present looked settled in.

“Good morning everyone. Weyrlingmaster Sel’n has caught a rather bad cold and is unable to attend lessons this morning. However, he did have a surprise for you. He said you’d all be very excited about it. A test!” I’fael grinned brightly even as some of the students groaned. He held up the papers for them all to see before going about and passing them out.

“You’ll have an hour to complete these, which shouldn’t be difficult if you were paying attention during lessons. It’s on terrain recognition, a skill that is needed in order to safely go /between/. For those who do poorly, you’ll be having a special meeting with either me or Sel’n to make sure you understand these concepts. Ready? Begin.” With that, he took his seat at his desk and picked up a book, though he glanced up at his students from time to time to make sure that no cheating was happening.

Roll Call Tidal
Ki’ner of Bronze Aberath
M’ta of Brown Behruth
R’wign of Brown Checkoth
F’neth of Blue Kloth
Raila of Blue Imprith
K’iel of Blue Qualuth
V’neti of Blue Glenth (APC)
Vashti of Green Wymeth
Tr’esn of Green Oquith
Kalina of Green Uminth

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[Avu]

We are being called, Mine. It is Morendoth's, Oquith offered quietly, nodding her head for emphasis and sending Moth, who had been clinging to her muzzle playfully, tumbling down the side of Tr'esn's bed and neatly ending up trapped in a discarded shirt. The white feline's tail stuck straight up from the fabric like a flagpole, and she sneezed indignantly from her prison, flailing slightly. He says that it is important, today is, the green dragon went on, unfazed by Moth's...problems. They came regularly, after all; she saw no reason to get worked up over them. You're to meet him in the classrooms, and bring your fighting straps and flying leathers, and...hmm. Yes, leave them outside. With me. Maybe we're going /between/ today?

The green received no response for her troubles, and with a sigh, Oquith peered towards Hers. Mine. Lessons! she insisted, and finally, the greenweyrling, who had been lying flat on his stomach on the weyrledge, staring down at the dragons and 'ledges below, trying to get used to the view (he wasn't. He was just getting dizzy), finally groaned and rolled over. "Okay. Okay. I'm going. I'm going." Pushing himself to his feet and squinting down at the nauseating drop, he sighed and slid back into his weyr again, glancing briefly over himself to make sure he was presentable before he grabbed Oquith's straps. Automatically pushing Moth back to keep the kitten from following him, he made his way back onto the weyrledge and touched Oquith's flank lightly to make her pay attention as he slid on her riding straps and then mounted, securing himself to the green's neck before he gave her the go-ahead --

-- and deeply regretted it as Oquith sidled off the edge of the weyrledge and then flared her wings open. The world lurched unsteadily for a moment before the green stopped dropping and gained altitude, and Tr'esn was able to uncurl his fingers from the straps, his eyes squeezed tightly shut against the sight of the many 'ledges between himself and the bottom. Oquith was entirely too calm about dropping one wing in order to propel herself back around towards the training field for Weyrlings. Perhaps we're going /between/ today? she asked after a moment, once she'd succeeded in turning and was floating peacefully in a straight-line flight towards the training field. I heard you the first time. I don't know. I don't think so...there are other important things too, you know. Maybe. Maybe not. I think it'd be easier to go /between/ to turn around than it is to actually physically turn, she added wistfully as she began to descend towards Morendoth.

The older brown received a shy croon as the green backwinged to land, her feet splayed to secure a landing as she managed a graceful landing, her tail used as an anchor as it snaked down. Finally, bouncing twice and then crooning again, Oquith lowered her head, letting Tr'esn slide off of her. Turning her head to nudge him affectionately as he loosened the straps so that they wouldn't bother Oquith, the weyrlingrider rubbed the dragon's nose once more and then, hesitating slightly as he glanced at Morendoth, he slid into the classroom, nervously sliding into a seat and squirming slightly as he waited for the beginning of lessons. As I'fael started speaking, he couldn't help rolling his eyes slightly in a mixture of dismay and a bit of relief. He liked Sel'n well enough, but the disrespect the man received from both brownweyrlings was...more than a little uncomfortable.

The weyrlingrider couldn't help sighing, though, as tests came around. Resigned, he glanced over it...and then paled visibly as he cringed, twisting the charcoal between his fingers. Words. Gah. Sel'n knew, but obviously I'fael didn't. "Um..." he said softly, and then, biting his lip, he thrust his hand into the air. "Um...sir? I can't...read."

[Requiem]

M'ta and Behruth, being habitually up with the dawn, were already midway through their preparations when Behruth paused to look in the direction of the training field. "They're wasting no time today," the brownrider commented drolly, his pace unchanged as he made sure each of the straps was snug. These were relatively new, made by his own hand the night before he'd found R'wign dancing in the infirmary in a purple skirt. M'ta had half a mind to show up to weyrling lessons in a similar skirt, but figured he hardly needed to antagonize Sel'n more than he already had. If only because Ruth got anxious when he did. The young dragon actually thought Sel'n might fail them. Ridiculous, but M'ta understood the value of humoring him.

It is not Kaaolath and His today, Behruth responded, lifting a leg to make it easier for M'taHis. "No?" No. Morendoth. M'ta frowned slightly. Oh. Right. That other one who mostly dealt with the younger weyrlings. "The old guy." Ruth peered at him anxiously. Your kind doesn't usually like to be called old, Mine. Please don't make this one mad, too. The young man sniffed dismissively. "Well, he is old. Not old old, but definitely old." Realizing he'd lost the young brown in that explanation, he sighed. "Don't worry about it. I'll try to be good. Okay? We're finished here. Let me up." M'ta slapped the brown's leg lightly as he spoke.

They left before Oquith and Tr'esn, but Behruth was...well...distracted by the lights on the clouds, convinced there were shinies hiding up there. It took M'ta the better part of several minutes to convince his mindmate that there was absolutely nothing in those clouds that Ruth could add to his collection. Somewhat subdued after that, the pair circled down not far away from Oquith. Behruth was a fairly decent flyer - mostly because it wasn't hard to get him in the air when he wanted to go hunting for more shinies - so long as there wasn't much in the way of wind. His landings, however, still needed a good deal of improvement.

"Ruth! Ease up!" To the brown's credit, he truly did try, but they still ended up skidding a good ten feet, the halt so abrupt it would have thrown the small M'ta clear had he not been clinging to the riding straps. The brownweyrling embraced what he could reach of the brown's neck and assured him that Ruth was getting far better at this in response to the dragon's anxiety before sliding off and getting the straps off Behruth. The dragon greeted Morendoth with a quiet croon, but he didn't show his usual exuberance. Those clouds had disappointed him more than M'ta would have thought. Leaning in, the boy whispered, "We'll find something pretty to add to your collection after lessons. No worries."

With that, the brownweyrling bounded for the entrance to the classroom, slowing up only as he crossed the threshold. Glancing quickly around, he immediately took a seat toward the rear. Maybe then he wouldn't get called on. M'ta...well, people didn't tend to take well to him, even when he was trying to be nice. Which he usually wasn't.

Tests. Lovely. Couldn't they do a field test? Terrain recognition actually looking at it from the air? M'ta didn't bother to hide the rather judgmental frown that had touched his lips. It was stupid to assume that someone who knew terrain by a description in words or by - worse! - those strange two dimensional representations of what was really there called maps would be able to function well actually looking at the real thing. Conversely, M'ta couldn't read a map to save his life. They were just scribbles! And it was such an effort to try to picture what the words meant when he'd only taught himself to read about two turns ago. He didn't bother to say anything, though. The worst that could happen was a one-on-one session, and he at least didn't have Tr'esn's problem; he could read, if somewhat slowly.

[glamourie]

"Lies and calumny, Weyrlingmaster Sel'n wasn't in the infirmary when I checked only a candlemark ago." Enter R'wign, victim of the disease known as knowitallitis. Morning lessons often enraged R'wign and it showed in the very sarcastic drawl of his tone. While his work ethic and respect for his superiors could be questioned, he was usually a very quick learner. However, shoving him into classes in the morning usually made the brown weyrling very mad -- because it meant he got almost no sleep, due to his infirmary shift. While he didn't expect anything to be catered around him, no one should have expected the healer to be a happy go lucky cheer bucket. "If he's sick, he ought to be there, otherwise it's shirking his responsibilities and I'm not above tattling." Tattling? To who? ... He didn't know yet, but he'd up and decided he was going to be as difficult as humanly possible in class. Why? Because R'wign was tired and he'd much rather have been in a bath lounging comfortably. It wasn't like the majority of the class showed up for lessons anyway. Maybe R'wign was just bitter. It was only three of them. Exactly what was the point of organizing actual classes for three people? Private tutoring would've been better.

Grouchy, the brown weyrlingrider slouched in his seat, spreading his long legs out in front of him as though to make a point. His arms folded over his chest. Even for R'wign, it was obvious he was disgruntled. While in lessons the healer was usually anything but professional (he had a very outlandish approach to dealing with people that may or may not have been why he had as many friends as he did), he wasn't normally... facetious. Slacker in answering, yes, and definitely didn't go out of his way (anyone who knew R'wign could tell that; he was frightening when he put his mind to something), but he wasn't blatantly disrespectful. Most of the time. Unfortunately, I'fael was getting the beginning of a very bad temper on the healer's part.

There were a lot of reasons R'wign was upset. However, only one was on his mind as he stared defiantly at the weyrlingmaster, hoping to offend him enough to get kicked out of the lesson. The primary source of the healer's anguish had a name: Checkoth. No, the dragon hadn't done anything wrong... but after Hazard and Collision so-kindly decided to chase another weyrling's salamandyr, R'wign had the unfortunate situation of being reminded of how much he missed Marra, and not necessarily in the emotional sense. He spent enough time with the harper that he didn't miss being around her. No, he missed... other things. Things he had to keep pushing out of his mind, usually, to avoid confusing Checkoth. Which meant more self-control than he normally had. Sharding flits.

Checkoth was quite pointedly ignoring R'wignHis.

Oh, it wasn't that the brown wasn't used to R'wignHis being grouchy. Ever since the little brown and blue cousins chased the weird green things, he'd been that way - but not with Checkoth, no, R'wignHis was always good to him and that was what mattered most. No, Checkoth was distracted for a completely, utterly different reason. His eyes were on a particularly small bug that most dragons would overlook. While R'wignHis was being taught, Checkoth was hunting. He hunched over, his backside elevated slightly as he crouched his front close to the ground. His two tails wiggled rhythmatically as he wiggled, trying to get into position. The unsuspecting vtol bug crawling in front of him didn't even stand a chance. With one quick movement, the brown pounced forward, throwing the whole of his bulk onto that one little bug, with his claws digging into the terrain beneath them. The result was a sickening smack of dragon weight against the ground, dirt kicked up around the brown weyrling, who lifted his paw and opened it to reveal to him his prize. He'd caught the little nuisance!

Only for a moment, however. The second his claws unfurled, the vtol bug flew out and zoomed as fast as it could away from the very large (in comparison) dragon. Startled, Checkoth snapped at the air next to the bug and missed. It kept flying. He climbed to his feet and scrambled after it, determined to catch his pet. It would be his!

Oblivious to his brown's silliness, R'wign growled at the mention of a test. He eyed I'fael contemptuously, daring the other brownrider to ask it of him; he was not a test-taking sort. Ironically, R'wign was very good at tests; he was excellent at reading and memorization (which explained his love of herbs, as he memorized the facts about them). He just hated having things sprung on him and -- and he was determined to be in a bad mood. Still, he didn't speak. That was because Tr'esn was speaking instead, and R'wign was busy plotting how not to fail the test (he hadn't been paying attention in previous lessons) because the idea of 'special lessons' was anything but ideal. He didn't even like the ones he had.

[weaving]

R’wign’s reply caused I’fael to raise an eyebrow. That must be one of the students that Sel’n had warned him about, the other being the small, dark one sitting in the back and frowning. They didn’t seem too troublesome though, though R’wign seemed to have a smartass attitude about him. He’d give them the benefit of the doubt for now. Unless they got too dsirupting there was no need to punish them for something they might do. It would only give them more of a reason to wreak havoc upon the lessons. So instead he smiled at the healer’s remark and even let a small chuckle escape.

“Perhaps you should have a word with him after lessons then? It’d do us no good to have one of the weyrlingmasters neglecting his health.” Sel’n had better be focusing on getting better. I’fael didn’t like the idea of teaching more than one group of weyrlings at a time. As well-behaved as the junior weyrlings were, there were a lot of them, and they sapped his energy quite effectively. He wasn’t exactly young anymore. He had a feeling that taking on this class would only add to his collection of grey hairs. What with their poor attendance and the trouble-making brownriders, I’fael wasn’t sure he could handle it. Yup. Sel’n had better be making a recovery. In fact, perhaps he should call on the man later this afternoon.

“Now, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m not the one who created the test, after all.” He didn’t bother to add that if this had been his class, he would have arranged for something similar. Still, the less heat he took from the weyrlings, the better things would go. Tr’esn’s words made him pause for a moment however. Couldn’t read? If Sel’n had mentioned that, he must have forgotten, though the greenweyrling’s words didn’t jostle any memories, so he figured that that small fact must have gone overlooked.

“Don’t worry Tr’esn. Come over to the corner with me so that we don’t disrupt the other test takers. I’ll read the questions out loud and write down your responses. Alright?” I’fael dragged one of the desks off to the side, grabbing a chair for himself in the process. After beckoning the weyrling over, he picked up the test and began to read, writing down the weyrling’s responses as he went. There, problem solved.

The hour flew by quickly enough, at least for I’fael. “Time,” he called, standing and collecting the tests back from everyone. “I trust that went well for everyone. I have a few announcements to make before we continue on. First, your dragons are nearing the age to Rise and Chase. Feel free to enjoy being,” ahem, “intimate. We’ll cover mating flights in our next lesson, so if you have any questions, feel free to ask them then. Second, EMERGENCY WING DRILLS. Get to your dragons and get prepared for drills. Anyone who is slower than me gets to practice one-on-one. With the Weyrleader.” Because everyone loved hanging out with T’rid.

With that, I’fael began making his way out of the classroom, pausing to collect his jacket and shrug it on before continuing. He wasn’t running, but he wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace either. Unless his students were completely incompetent or really wanted to spend time with T’rid, it wouldn’t be difficult for them to beat him.

[Avu]

Tr'esn decided that henceforth, due to the quality of fail that lingered around the Weyrlings (fail: adjective: defined as a quality of; used to explain the possiblity of being held back for another year of Weyrling training), he was just going to ignore R'wign and M'ta if they decided to get snippy with the Weyrlingmaster. It was...safer. Yes, far safer. And besides, he...kind of liked I'fael. Perhaps not...excessively. He would have preferred someone he was more familiar with, naturally, but...he did like I'fael at least a bit. The greenweyrling could recall the man being quite kind to him in previous lessons, and it was getting more and more...annoying, this be-cruel-to-the-Weyrlingmaster thing, that the two brownweyrlings seemed to have taken up. Tr'esn squirmed slightly in his seat as I'fael answered R'wign without much problem, but the man wasn't stupid. He knew that he was being baited, didn't he? --

-- what? His name? "Oh," he said blankly for a moment, and then blinked. "Oh -- I mean, yes, okay..." Rising from his seat, and dropping the charcoal length he'd been twisting in his fingers so hard that it left black lines on his fingers, Tr'esn reported obediently to I'fael and sank into the seat opposite him, flushed and embarrassed. He hated not being able to read, he did. So much easier it would be, if only...he...could...read. But he couldn't. He'd never had the time to learn nor anybody to teach him, nor yet much to teach himself off of. As the Weyrlingmaster read off the first question, he instinctively reached mentally for Oquith, more for the support than for answers, as the green, soothing though she was, simply did not remember things as well as he did. The green's quick wave of encouragement soothed the knot in his stomach as he exhaled nervously, and focused on answering the questions.

It was simple enough, he realized after a while, and soon the hour was up. He'd just barely finished, and he was quite sure he'd gotten a few wrong, but overall? He was fine. Tr'esn uttered a shaky, silent exhale to himself as I'fael took up the tests again. His next statement made the blood come strongly to Tr'esn's cheeks again, and he ducked his head slightly. Oquith, Rising soon? Ugh. Ugh! I will not Rise if you don't want to Fly, Oquith informed him imperturbably, clearly not understanding quite yet that it wasn't something she could control. (She instinctively linked 'Choose' as in 'Choose a male' to being able to decide whether or not she Rose.) Tr'esn blinked rapidly, but he couldn't help grinning slightly at Oquith. Thanks, Qui, he stammered. I -- ah, I appreciate it... And he did not say that you /had/ to be intimate, Oquith encouraged. Do not be frightened.

Wait, what?! Weyrleader?

Tr'esn twitched visibly before he jumped to his feet, blinking rapidly as he tried to remember what he was supposed to do. Wing Drills. Wing Drills? And then it clicked, and he bit his lip, hesitated awkwardly, and then went. Ignore brownweyrlings. Ignoreignoreignore. It was easier to not feel like an idiot when he did that...gabbing jacket and helmet, he wiggled into the jacket on the way towards the sacks of firestone. It was so...horribly...heavy...ew. He wrinkled his nose in despair as his bare toes curled awkwardly (no, he wasn't wearing shoes. He rarely did), and started lugging the sack towards Oquith, who pranced in place next to her discarded riding straps, eyes whirling eagerly as, panting slightly, Tr'esn dropped the sack next to Oquith and grabbed the riding straps, lifting them up and tossing them lightly over the green's neck. The buckles were snapped in loosely, and then, with his heart thumping and his fingers erring in his nervousness, Tr'esn went back to tighten them again, checking the tightness quickly before he picked up the firestone (which was more or less as big as his torso was) and heaved it against Oquith, the green stolidly standing for the process as he attached it to her straps.

"I think...am I...done?"
Up!

Oquith's excited reminder made Tr'esn twitch again, and the greenweyrling took a step back before he remembered his helmet and grabbed it up from the ground, tugging it over his curls -- so restrictive, it felt -- and doing up the jacket -- it stifled, it did; he squirmed -- and tugged on his gloves before he pulled himself up onto Oquith, fumbling with the straps through gloved fingers before he managed to attach the straps to his jacket and then slumped visibly in relief. He hadn't done...so bad, had he?

[Requiem]

M'ta simply settled further back in his seat and listened to R'wign's rant. Which...was definitely what it was. His roommate wasn't exactly the most congenial student on a good day. This foul temper was excessive, though, and M'ta's frown was now more for R'wign than the test that he still thought would be of more use as kindling. He considered nudging the other brownweyrling with a foot and asking after what was eating him, but decided against it. With his luck, R'wign wouldn't notice, would trip over the foot, and...yeah. Better just to leave that for another time.

Absently twirling the charcoal between his fingers, M'ta mentally ran through all the things he would much rather be doing than sitting in a stuffy classroom trying to create mental pictures - or, worse, trying to read a shard-blasted map - from words. One of those things very definitely included target practice. He was fairly certain that he could pin I'fael to the wall by his clothes...and, even if he couldn't, M'ta would definitely be willing to try. A dark smile flirted across his face at the thought. Be good. The boy sniffed and finally actually looked at the test.

Behruth, meanwhile, curled up a short distance away from the other dragons and pawed at the ground dejectedly. He couldn't find the shinies hidden in the clouds. Without them, how could he ever claim that he had the best collection? Gradually, he became aware that Checkoth was...acting funny again. The smaller of the two browns watched his brother's antics curiously, the interest growing and gradually replacing his keen disappointment. What is it you are doing, Checkbrother? He'd gotten up now, and was slinking over toward Checkoth in imitation of his clutchmate's gait. Upon spying that bug he suddenly understood. You want the shiny? Let me help. They are tricksy.

Tricksy enough, in fact, that Behruth was still at it when time was finally called on the tests.

M'ta had stopped writing long ago. In fact, he'd written hardly a word. I'fael was right; it wasn't his fault that Sel'n was an idiot. Nor was the brownweyrling one to waste words. He simply had written on the test something to the effect that this exercise was stupid and he refused to participate. Sel'n could make of that what he would. And, if asked, M'ta would gladly explain to him just why he'd decided to leave the test blank. Probably in more detail than the weyrlingmaster preferred. Not that he was likely to be asked.

The brownweyrling visibly froze at I'fael's words, though. Was that...really this soon? The surprise held him for a few extra moments but, since he was already in the back of the room, he still managed to slip out before the old man, shrugging into his jacket as he went. M'ta snagged up the bag of firestone already prepped for Behruth with three fingers and flung it back over a shoulder casually, the weight a familiar one. Of course, that's as far as he managed to get. He came upon Behruth hopping about like the ground was on fire or something, M'ta pausing to stare at the beast in bemusement. Dare I ask? It's getting away again!

The brown stumbled over his own feet and nearly faceplanted in his eagerness. A headache eased into life behind M'ta's left eye, the boy reaching up to massage it for a moment. I need you to stand still, Ruth. We're flying here soon. Just give me a second more... Easing along the ground, he gathered up his muscles for another pounce.

[glamourie]

R’wign did not like tests. He also did not like authority figures. It wasn’t so much personal (on a personal level he had no reason to dislike Weyrlingmaster I’fael, after all), but R’wign had never liked figures in positions of power. They reminded him of his father, and thinking of the man at all made him downright unpleasant to be around. Still, I’fael’s response was satisfactory to him and he raised an eyebrow before replying very seriously, “I will. If it’s serious enough that he’s skipping out on lessons, he should be in the infirmary. It never ceases to amaze me the audacity dragon riders have for neglecting their health. You’d think they believed themselves invincible, but I can tell you quite honestly that the smallest of bugs can accelerate into some of the worst infections if left without proper care… and the average rider doesn’t know the first thing about proper care, no matter what they may think. You can warn him, if you like, that I intend to come as soon as this lesson is over. It’s entirely up to you.”

The healer scowled. However, as soon as the test started, he went perfectly silent and bowed his head to gaze at the questions. His expression was displeased, but he was considerate enough not to make a peep. R’wign was remarkably good at tests, though, and while he would probably not get perfect scores, he was a fairly logical entity. So it was that he wrote down his answers and, when he was finished, proceeded to scribble a note at the bottom of the test for Weyrlingmasters -- whichever one happened to be grading it, really:

A written examination is hardly an accurate judgment for one’s competence; many individuals are capable of writing out answers that they would otherwise not remember in the air. Practical exams are far more efficient and a better judge of one’s skill at flying. Some students are even incapable of reading and a written test is an unfair assessment for them. In the north, women are rarely allowed to learn to read if it isn’t part of a craft and many of the candidates are from the north. Please be more considerate in the future. - R

It was really tempting to tear off strips of the test and write notes to M’ta. The only reason he didn’t was because right after he finished, I’fael called time. R’wign let his scowl return to his face and leaned back, watching the other brown rider with a disturbing intensity. Had he just - what - wait, he’d just glossed over -- Any focus that R’wign had was abruptly taken by those words. He stood up almost as a zombie and made his way outside, then noticed Tr’esn following instructions he hadn’t heard. Blinking twice, the brown rider immediately ran over to Checkoth --

-- but Checkoth pounced away again. In fact, the brown almost seemed to be running from R’wignHis, though it was not at all on purpose. Shiny shiny shiny! So helpful, Behruth was. Together they would undoubtedly collect the shiny and keep it and then the shinies Behruth was looking for would come out and they’d have the absolute best ones of all - or rather, his clutch brother would. He already had a special shiny called LittleShiny, or Ellie, or little cousin or whatever he happened to remember her as, but Behruth didn’t have one. He was determined that the flying shiny was key to getting Behruth one and, without stopping to consider that R’wignHis was behind him, he pounced again.

“Check, slow down would you? I have to put straps on you --”

Nononono, I have to get the shiny, straps can wait, the brown said firmly before skittering after the bug again. For a creature so large, he was quite quick. We’re going to get it!

“No, no, we’re being timed -- Checkoth -- CHECKOTH!” The brown was obviously not listening to him. Frustrated, R’wign did the only thing he could think of to stop Checkoth in his ridiculous behavior. He threw himself forward onto the second of the weyrling’s tails and latched onto it for dear life - in the process being dragged along the ground. Not that he minded. “Stooooop, let me put your straps on, this is emergency drills, don’t you care? You always make me come to these things whether I like it or not-- Cheeeeeeck--” Insert whining, but Checkoth was determined. He seemed completely oblivious to R’wign’s plight… or the fact that his second tail was being latched. It would be his!

[weaving]

If he’d been moving as quickly as he would have in the event of real emergency drills, he doubted that any of the weyrlings would have beaten him. Turns of experience had made the movements instinctive, which was hopefully what these weyrlings would learn soon enough. The fact that there were only three regularly attending irked him, but it simply meant that the others would just get moved back to the junior weyrling classes, delaying their graduation. He’d have to talk to Sel’n about that sometime this sevenday to get that worked out. As of now, the missing weyrlings were simply going unpunished, something that shouldn’t be happening. No wonder Selenitas riders were so lazy.

He finished his thoughts at about the same time he’d finished buckling the straps around Morendoth and tying the firestone bags on. Done, he turned to face his weyrlings, fully expecting to see them lined up, ready for him to inspect. What met his gaze was something else entirely. Tr’esn was there, all ready to go, though that had been expected. M’ta, however, was chasing Behruth around, who was hopping across the field like some sort of insane dragonand R’wign…well, I’fael had to stifle a laugh at the sight of the healer clinging to one of cHeckoth’s tails and getting dragged about. He let the scene continue for a moment before stopping it.

’Doth, get them in order please.

Behruth and Checkoth, attention! You’re riders have just failed an important test because of your antics. Stop this nonsense at once! The serious tone of the brown lasted for only a few moments before it burst into peels of dragon laughter that only the brownweyrlings could hear. No good in letting I’fael know that he might somehow be encouraging them.

“Tr’esn, you’ve passed,” I’fael told the greenweyrling, waiting for the two brownriders to calm down before speaking to them. “R’wign and M’ta, technically you’ve failed this part of today’s lesson and I would be arranging one-on-one time with the Weyrleader, but seeing as it was due to forces you cannot control, we’ll let this one slide. Now, strap up please, we’ve got a few more things to cover.” With that, he turned back toward Morendoth, mounting the brown.

Today we will be flying in the V formation and practicing the chain and toss drill in the air. I’fael and I will be below you to catch any bags of firestone that you might miss. Checkoth, you’ll be flying lead, with Oquith to your left and Behruth to your right. I’fael planned to use Morendoth from this point on in the lesson to communicate to the weyrlings. It was easier than shouting, and much more like what they would encounter during threadfall. Now please take off in the order I called you in, Checkoth, Oquith and then Behruth. Once you gain altitude, form your formation.

Weyrlingmaster and dragon waited for the others to take off before doing so themselves, flying beneath the three weyrlings and watching with a critical eye.

[Avu]

Tr'esn had meant to present himself as serious, ready to fly, capable of being in a wing, but...it didn't quite work out like that. As soon as he'd settled down on Oquith's back, squinting slightly through the visor of his riding helmet, the weyrlingrider glanced around, checking the progress of the other weyrlings...and nearly choked on his surprise. And then he started to laugh, almost hysterically, though he tried to muffle it by biting down on his gloved hand as his shoulders shook with his laughter. What...were they doing?! R'wign being dragged through the dirt by Checkoth, who seemed...entirely oblivious, and Behruth was pouncing around after...something that had evidently evaded him and was doing so repeatedly and with great success, for the brown showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Muffling his laughter wasn't working, so Tr'esn simply allowed himself to give in to the laughter, leaning over on Oquith's neck.

The little green was...bewildered by her clutchbrothers' antics, and peered interestedly at them, crooning slightly. I...Mine, Tr'esnmine, what are they doing? Utterly perplexed was she, especially as to R'wign's being dragged through the dirt. That...that didn't look fun. It looked like it hurt. Didn't he...want to get up? Then, as Hers seemed incapable of stopping his laughter, Oquith flung a quick look at I'fael and Morendoth, and then squirmed anxiously. They will fail, Mine, Morendoth's is almost done! she exclaimed, sounding anxious as she squirmed again, helpless. She didn't like trying to control Behruth or Checkoth; her brothers were always thought of as her betters, and she didn't...she was too shy to interrupt them. They...kind of looked like they were having fun...?

As I'fael spoke up, she gave a nervous little prance again, and then crooned slightly, her eyes whirling in pride as Tr'esn choked back his laughter and exhaled, rubbing his abdomen slightly. Shardit, but laughing so much hurt! "Ow," he muttered slightly, nodding at I'fael. He cringed for M'ta and R'wign, but the Weyrlingmaster seemed to let them off the hook since their dragons were...hopping wildly across the ground after some unknown. He leaned against Oquith's shoulders, one arm wrapping as far as he could reach around the small green's lower neck in a clear show of affection as the green passed information to him solemnly from Morendoth, trusting him to remember it for her, for Oquith's memory was, while as good as the typical green's, still nothing to be exceptionally proud of, and it had become something of a habit between the greenpair, to simply let Tr'esn keep track of it all.

...and we're to fly to Checkoth's left, and Behruth's on his right side, and we're to take off in this order: Checkoth, me, and then Behruth; and once we gain altitude, we're to form that formation. A forward vee, the green said rapidly, and then flared her wings in excitement. Flying in formation! It would be fun, she was certain...she just had to let Checkoth take off first, and what a chore that was, for she wanted to be in the air as quickly as possible. Only Tr'esn's restricting touch on her straps kept her from launching herself instantly, waiting politely for Checkoth to launch before she gathered herself, neatly launching herself into the air after the brown. She headed straight to gain altitude. Some dragons might prefer corkscrewing upwards, but turning was such a struggle for Oquith that she preferred to fly straight.

Needless to say, that made her go some distance before she managed to get to the altitude that they were instructed to. I can't wait till we go /between/, was her comment as she dropped one wing to turn, and then flew back towards Checkoth and Behruth again. She managed to navigate herself to stay on Checkoth's left after a bit of maneuvering, and then struggled to stay in one place, hovering as well as she could. Ocassionally a wingbeat would accidentally send her forward onto Checkoth's tail (or rather, the left tail), and Oquith would backwing in alarm, flustered, which would, naturally, make her have to struggle to get back into formation. This is difficult, Tr'esnMine, very difficult, the green murmured nervously, as Tr'esn tightened his legs around Oquith's neck as she backwinged again. It's okay. You're fine. It's okay, the weyrlingrider responded, as if chanting a mantra.

[Requiem]

It's been more than a second, M'ta commented drolly, though he knew better than to interfere with Behruth when the brown was after something. That was a good way to get accidentally squished into a very, very flat pancake. The boy might have commented further (Behruth seemed to be completely ignoring him by this point) had Checkoth not crossed right in front of him at that moment. M'ta had to spring to one side to avoid getting bowled over by the lunatic attached to one of the brown's tails. Though he'd been annoyed before, now he couldn't keep back a chuckle. What on Pern was R'wign doing?

Perhaps because His had noticed it, Behruth suddenly became aware of this strange partnership, too. Checkbrother, why are you sweeping the ground with Yours? he questioned, quite puzzled. Was that a better way to catch the shiny? Then the little creature passed before his snout and he leapt...and let out what sounded suspiciously like a surprised squeak as Morendoth's voice rumbled through his head. His legs got all tangled when he hit the ground and the brown ended up rolling into a sprawled heap. He stared at Morendoth with something like panic. Ohnoohnoohno.

Scrambling upwards, the young dragon was quickly at M'ta's side, only casting one last regretful glance at the escaped shiny. He nuzzled M'taHis with enough force that the boy seemed to be dancing to avoid toppling right over. Stop it, Ruth! The brown crooned anxiously. I am so, so sorry, M'taMine. It was the shiny, and if we caught it, then the other shinies would be there to catch, too, and I'm sorry. I did not want you to fail. Now we will never get to fly, and you will be mad at me, and we will have to go live way, way far away by ourselves and it will be so so lonely and- The brown broke off at Morendoth's next words, finally allowing M'ta a break from the rough nuzzling and the verbal diarrhea.

His rider took the opportunity to throw the straps up over Behruth. "We're not going to be sent away. Hush." Glancing toward I'fael - and Tr'esn, the laughing traitor! - M'ta hurriedly worked his insane mindmate into the straps, tugging everything snug. Yes sir, Morendoth sir! Behruth returned a bit too eagerly, wanting to be especially good so they wouldn't end up allll aloooone. M'taHis said they wouldn't, but Ruth wasn't so sure.

After all the bustle, the pair was still set well before they actually sprung into the air, Behruth having a little difficulty leveling off before he powered upward at an almost reckless speed. Calm down, Ruth. Checkoth's not going anywhere without us. And look...Oquith still has to...come back. Slightly puzzled as to why they'd strayed so far in that direction, M'ta mentally shrugged. But what if we fail? We won't. Just...try not to run into Checkoth or Oquith.

Settling easily into a position behind the other brown and to his right, Behruth watched Oquith with some bemusement. I don't think you have to be that close to Checkbrother, he told her, in the equivalent of a dragon-whisper.

[glamourie]

Nononono IT WOULDN'T GET AWAY!

Checkoth ignored R'wign's pleas as he jumped after the bug again. His wings flared as wide as they could go. They were unusually thin for a dragon of his size, but not badly to his detriment, and he had no problem springing himself forward with them to act as balancing tools. The brown weyrling did not appear to notice as his rider (still being hauled forcibly through the dirt) gave a startled squawk. His tails swung back and forth as much as they could with a six-foot-tall teenager hanging onto one of them and he crouched down low, wiggling his hindquarters. He leaned forward, just about ready to pounce when a voice reached him. Startled, Checkoth jumped backwards, causing R'wign to let go and the brown tumbled onto the ground next to his rider, legs sprawled out under him in a disheveled heap that no doubt looked quite comical, not to mention the epitome of graceless.

He crooned and flipped his wings curiously. R'wign groaned.

They'd failed a test? Checkoth let loose with a loud keen in response, that lasted only a moment but made his distress very clear. In that time span, R'wign climbed to his feet and dusted himself off as best he could, looking nothing short of disgruntled. The brownrider looked at his dragon before scrunching up his nose. I'm sorry R'wignmine! I'm sorry! I wanted to catch the shiny for Behruth so we could fly fast and not go BOOM, the brown announced... to everyone present, though he did not appear to notice it. Please forgive me! I didn't mean to sweep the ground with you! He'd clearly heard Behruth, though he didn't respond immediately. His distress took over. I'm sorry, I'm sorry - I -- R'wignmine. You smell like a goo again. The keening stopped as the brown cocked his head to the side and rose up to his feet awkwardly. You kinda look like one too. Why, R'wignmine? Why? You are not a goo. Stop that.

"It'd help if you listened and didn't haul me over the ground. Now you'll get dirt on you and I'll have to bathe you again," R'wign scolded, but there was no real scorn in it. Since the brown had finally decided to hold still, he moved over to check his riding gear carefully. All looked to be in order, and R'wign climbed onto his dragon's back with practiced ease. Getting on wasn't hard. Convincing Checkoth that slowing down before landing was a good idea -- that was the difficult part, and he was not looking forward to I'fael seeing that. "Now listen, we're not in trouble yet so try not to get distracted this time, would you?"

Okay!

The brown excitedly relayed the instructions that Morendoth gave him to his rider. R'wign squinted slightly and then offered his dragon a curt nod. Checkoth made a low whining noise, whether it was from understanding or dread unclear, and then launched himself up into the air. Taking off wasn't difficult and he managed to almost make it look graceful. No, his problem came with landing, which always made him want to keen in distress. He found it fun. R'wignHis -- not so much. He didn't know why his rider always worried about falling, though. He'd never let anything happen to him. He adored R'wignHis, he did, and he'd take very good care of him. Didn't he trust his Checkoth?

I'm not sure what we're supposed to do with this. We fly in formation, and -- that's it so far?

That's what he said! Checkoth replied as he leveled himself out. He had to beat his wings more than most dragons his size, due to how thin they were, and it took conscious effort to remain balanced because of his tail... but other than that, he was okay. He managed to fly ahead just fine, and his position made him completely miss Oquith's antics. If he'd seen her, he probably would have thought it all a very fun game, though... so it was just as well, really.

[ravenmane]

He was sososososososososososos late! K'iel cringed as he ran headlong to the classroom. Instead of following him, Qualuth headed for a different direction. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! He screeched, and Qualuth paused for a moment to look at his rider and chuckle. Lessons of course. What do you mean? We get to fly. Qualuth replied cheerfully and continued to bounce towards the small weyrling class.

Just as they were arriving, the entire class (which was only three weyrlings and a teacher) took off. K'iel groaned unhappily. Just great. Now, he had to get Qualuth strapped in and make sure he could still join the rest of the class. "Stand still, Qua, and ask the WeyrlingMaster's Brown if we are still allowed to participate in this part of the lesson. As His muttered about stupid Blues and suicidal ideas, Qualuth unashamedly spoke to the the WeyrlingMaster's dragon.

Morendoth, K'ielmine and I are very sorry for being late, and Mine would like to know if we are allowed to still participate in what is left of the lesson. Oh, good job at being sincere in that apology, Qua. K'iel commented rather dryly as he went over all the straps a second time. He jerked on one of the buckles harder then normal and Qualuth grunted. A little tight, K'iel. Please loosen it? The Weyrling obeyed promptly although he was still angry with the Blue for making him for this lesson.