lost the moth? [Weyrling Chores/Open]

[Avu]

I feel big, Oquith fretted.

Isn't that a good thing? Tr'esn asked, mildly amused as he dipped the quill in ink and applied it carefully to the hide. He'd never learned how to write properly, nor how to read, but it didn't take a genius to copy down the shapes. The problem was, he didn't know what he was writing and it was horribly hard to focus. This, coupled with the fact that Moth was curled up in his shirt, asleep, made him want to just drop everything and sleep, too. It didn't help his concentration in the slightest, either, that Moth twitched and squirmed ocassionally, her scruffy fur rubbing along his stomach and tickling incessantly; nor did it particularly help that her nose was pressed directly into his hip and he could feel her breathing against him. He was trying not to make it too obvious that he'd smuggled a kitten in, but it was rather hard: Moth had grown an awful lot in the two months he'd had her, and the bulge was probably quite noticeable.

Fortunately, nobody had seen the greenweyrling edging into the room, one hand concealing the kitten as well as he could, and he was hiding the lump under the desk. It didn't keep Tr'esn from being paranoid -- he was, excessively so -- but he couldn't have left her in the room. Oquith had gone out sunning (since she couldn't fit in the Records Room without knocking something over anymore and it was too hard to keep track of her wings and tail and all four legs all at once), and she couldn't be left in the room. Not only might Aberath eat her out of spite (the kitten's eternal playfulness probably grated on the bronzeweyrling's nerves more than Tr'esn would have liked; and he was rather scared of his roommate), but if Sel'n decided to pop in and caught him hoarding a kitten in the Weyrling Barracks, he'd be mortified -- especially if it got Ki'ner into trouble, too.

But it wouldn't be so bad.

Nope. Not if Moth stayed asleep...It is. Kind of. The reply from Oquith was still not entirely happy -- presumably because she couldn't fit into the Records Room anymore -- but Tr'esn didn't reply because of the small ball of fur in his shirt. Moth had stirred and woken, yawning, her teeth gently rubbing against Tr'esn's stomach. The greenweyrling froze halfway through writing something, blanching as he tried to soothe the kitten into falling asleep again -- her playfulness was not to be dealt with. Not now! But it was too late, and with a slight squirm, she pulled free from his shirt, blinking emerald green eyes at him sleepily before she purred affectionately. Tr'esn carefully put down the quill, reaching for Moth, but the kitten leapt from his lap and scurried past the bookshelf.

Mine?
MOTH!
Mine?!

Not bothering to reply to the clearly bewildered Oquith, Tr'esn nearly flipped his quill clean out of his hand as he pushed his chair back hastily, as quietly as he could, and darted after the kitten, poking his head around the side of the bookshelf with a whispered plead: "Moth?" No reply. Tr'esn wriggled slightly in anxiety, and then started down the bookshelf. "Mo-oth..." Oh, Mine, you lost the Moth?! Whereupon said kitten pounced out of the bookshelf, catching Tr'esn unawares and making the greenweyrling stagger backwards, hitting his hip against a table as the kitten mrowled happily, claws latching into his shirt as Tr'esn caught himself, wrapping his arms around the kitten and glancing around nervously as Moth gave a wriggle to drop back into the safe warmth of his shirt.

Nope. Found her.

[Requiem]

Leaving Behruth to curl up on some warm rocks by the river after their swim, M'ta shook himself out like an errant canine and made a quick change into the dry clothing still on the bank. The overlong wet tunic maintained his modesty well enough for the brief amount of time it took him, and the boy laid out his clothing near the brown to dry. Many at Selenitas didn't mind nudity, but M'ta wasn't one of those. Behruth lifted his head to snuff at His in blatant amusement. Humans are funny about threads. Aren't they just a pain? It's nice and warm out here. He yawned widely, displaying a full set of rather nasty-looking teeth.

"Humans don't have your hide," M'ta returned patiently, sitting down on the dragon's foreleg so he could pull on his boots. Though going around barefoot was fine with him, it really wasn't very comfortable in flight, and the pair flew as much as they could for the practice. Especially on the landings. Behruth had quite a bit of trouble with landings. "Where I come from, it gets quite cold. Almost as cold as Between, sometimes. And humans that didn't wear 'threads' as you put it would die of cold." Very weak, Behruth stated indistinctly. "Yes. That's why we have you." His hand came up to run along the length of Behruth's jaw before M'ta stood again, casting a dark glance in the direction of the archives. His absolute least favorite chore. He'd rather be cleaning out the latrines those chamber pots were emptied into.

"I've got to inhale dust and twist my fingers up into knots now," he commented, a trace of humor entering into the words that likely wouldn't have been there just a couple months ago. "You'll be fine by yourself?" Don't be silly, M'taMine. Dragons are never alone. Especially not in the middle of the Weyr. Go tie up your fingers, or whatever it is you do. The young man pulled a face at his bonded before trotting for the archives. He slowed at the door and slipped inside, skirting the edges of the main room so as not to catch any of the archivists' attention. They always had the scrolls that needed to be recopied laid out, anyway.

What sounded like a scuffle - and was that a feline? - came from the other side of the shelves. M'ta naturally quickened his pace, an openly concerned expression on his dark-skinned features before he took in the strange scene before him. "Tr'esn? Is that kitten yours?" he questioned, voice muted against the possibility that others might be within hearing range - and somehow had missed the racket.

Walking forward, then, the brownweyrling found it surprising that this classmate of his was now so much...well, shorter than him. M'ta had always had a little height on him, but now his growth spurt had him actually looking down a bit, and he felt...well, big. As he hadn't felt since leaving Bitra. The southerners all seemed like giants, so it was strange when anyone was actually smaller than M'ta. "You okay?" the boy added belatedly, stopping a few paces from Tr'esn. "Sounded like a mini-brawl going on over here."

[Avu]

Gah, person!

Tr'esn jumped, one hand automatically reaching to push Moth entirely into his shirt to avoid being seen, but of course it was too late: He'd been too busy rubbing his hip, fully expecting a bruise to appear in due course, to notice M'ta's approach. The greenweyrling eyes widened slightly as he jumped, swiveling sharply to face M'ta as Moth, reaching one paw out of his shirt to extend her paw hopefully towards the brownweyrling, mrowled, pleased by what she perceived to be attention. Catching the paw in question and tucking it gently back into his shirt again, Tr'esn blinked, biting his lip. The options he had were to admit that he was keeping a kitten against Weyrling Barrack rules and hope that M'ta wouldn't report him directly to Sel'n, or deny that Moth was his.

Unfortunately, he probably couldn't get away with lying. It was obvious in the tenderness with which he cradled the kitten with one arm that he was familiar with her, and his mind had been efficiently wiped blank by trying to copy records. "Uh." The greenweyrling swallowed, dropping his gaze and flushing slightly as Moth wriggled again, purring loudly and blinking hopefully at M'ta. Attention, yes? She wanted attention! Maybe he'd even play with her? "Um, yeah...yeah, she's mine." The last was admitted in an odd mixture of defiance and resignation, somehow meshed into one. "I mean -- I know we're not supposed to have felines, and all, but...well, I mean, yeah...Oquith found her, and, um...well, yeah," he finished lamely, shrugging helplessly.

"I'm fine," he added. "I mean, I'm not seriously hurt..." The greenweyrling wrinkled his nose in slight annoyance at himself. Moth served as more than adequate distraction, though. The white feline didn't approve of being overlooked, and, with a wriggle and a slight tug, she pulled herself out of Tr'esn's shirt and dropped onto the ground, scruffy fur standing out every which way as she meowed insistently, seating herself firmly on top of M'ta's foot and licking his ankle with her sandpaper tongue. Making a face, Tr'esn squatted, reaching out to reclaim the kitten, but Moth slid out of his grasp and wound herself shamelessly around the brownweyrling's feet, peering up at him solemnly with emerald green eyes. She only wanted a little bit of attention and maybe, if he was very nice, maybe they could play a little?

Her gaze flitted to Tr'esn after a second and she pounced, landing the greenweyrling on his rear in a motion entirely lacking in dignity as he huffed at her, drawing his legs in to eye the feline disapprovingly, but Moth was already gone again, sliding back to M'ta and rearing to place her forepaws against his leg, crooning in a way that was distinctly reminiscient of a dragon in her demands for attention, clearly oblivious to the way Tr'esn's face twisted in affectionate dismay. "I've spoiled her," he sighed, rubbing his cheek and then dropping his hand in a sigh of clear exasperation at the kitten's antics.

[Requiem]

M'ta's eyebrow rose mildly as Tr'esn stumbled over what sounded...sort of like an explanation. He found it mildly amusing, actually, that the greenweyrling seemed to think he'd care that Tr'esn was keeping a kitten in the barracks against the rules. The brownweyrling was anything but a stickler for the rules. He followed those that suited him and, as for the rest...well, he simply didn't bother. Things like curfew and not going into the woods alone (though he actually agreed with that, if only Behruth would stop dashing off after every pretty shiny that caught his eye!) were almost religiously ignored by M'ta.

"That's good, anyway," the older boy commented, amusement bringing a glitter to his dark eyes. "Can't have everyone believing the brave Tr'esn could be bested by a kitten, now can we?" He was just about to find a desk and a quill when the kitten decided that his foot seemed like the best place to take a seat. M'ta stared down at her curiously, then shook his head with a mild twist to his lips. "To be honest, I'm surprised Behruth hasn't dragged back half a dozen strays by this point." He didn't directly address the issue of reporting Tr'esn because the greenweyrling hadn't done so, but that statement should make it clear enough that he had no intention to rat the other boy out. The kitten certainly wasn't hurting anyone.

Well, aside from Tr'esn.

The feline was getting more aggressive now. M'ta was tempted to reach down and smooth her fur back into place, but his attention was equally divided between her and the boy trying to reclaim her. He was tempted to laugh...especially when the kitten's weight threw Tr'esn off-balance and landed him on his rear. The sullen little glare directed at her was just too much and he couldn't resist a chuckle. "I'll say," he replied with a small smile.

Crouching down, M'ta lowered his hand, allowing her time to get used to the scent of it before he began to stroke the little creature. "So, what's your name little nuisance?" he asked the creature in soft tones, flicking a glance at Tr'esn's huddled form a short distance away. "You're going to have to learn to control your own strength. Look at him. He can hardly stand, little brute." Nothing whatsoever in his tone of voice indicated anything but gentle amusement.

[Avu]

M'ta's teasing made Tr'esn wrinkle his nose slightly, amusement curling his lips upward shyly, though the implication of his words -- everybody knowing about Moth?! -- made his eyes widen slightly, nervously. Yes, he was paranoid, but he didn't like the thought of being in trouble -- especially not by Sel'n. The Weyrlingmaster didn't scare him, but he didn't think that he'd ever be fully comfortable around the man either, and there was simply no way he could defend Moth if it came down to that. The kitten was harmless, really, but rules were rules and Tr'esn was distinctly aware he was breaking them. Well -- it was only a month more; then they'd move into separate weyrs and then they could keep felines. The greenweyrling couldn't wait.

-- oh. Tr'esn couldn't repress the relieved exhalation, and then bit his lower lip, somewhat amused at himself. He oughtn't to be so nervous -- how many people knew about Moth, now? K'iel and Vashti -- obviously; Oquith told Qualuth and Wymeth everything and she was probably delighted by Moth; Ki'ner -- unavoidable, since the bronzeweyrling shared the Barracks with him; C'oar -- which had been an accident; he hadn't meant to let Moth into the hallway and he was fretting over that most of all; and now M'ta. He didn't know the brownweyrling well, but he'd all but said that he wouldn't report him. Who's that? Oquith asked curiously, catching the drift of his thoughts. Oh. Behruth's? the green added, peeking out of Tr'esn's eyes. Mm-hmm. Oh. That's nice, came the response, but Oquith was clearly more interested in sunning than in socializing.

Crossing his legs -- he clearly wouldn't be allowed to get up anytime soon -- Tr'esn propped one elbow against his knee, resting his chin thoughtfully against his curled fist. He wrinkled his nose slightly at M'ta's chuckle and comment. Yes...he had spoiled her. To be fair, it hadn't been all him; Moth had been almost irritatingly playful when Oquith had found her, but...it had probably gotten much worse lately. Shouldn't she be maturing soon?! At least, he thought dryly, he'd gotten over his possessiveness of the small white ball of energy: He distinctly remembered wanting to growl at C'oar when the boy had presumed to advise him on how to take care of Moth -- and when he'd tried to pet the kitten, even though Moth had had absolutely nothing against the boy and had even invited his attention.

"Attention-seeker," he accused the kitten affectionately, as she gave a quick, careless sniff to M'ta's hand upon the boy bending down towards her, and then butted her head happily against his hand, arching her back under his touch and winding back and forth over his legs. A purr had started in her throat, vibrating loudly as she rubbed happily against M'ta, emerald eyes locked on the brownweyrling's face as he spoke. Tr'esn answered automatically at the question of her name, leaning forward to tug the white feline's tail gently. "Her name's Moth" -- and he promptly grimaced again at M'ta's statements to the kitten. "Little brute indeed." The 'little brute' in question had stopped rubbing, depositing herself firmly on top of M'ta's foot again -- this was definitely were she belonged! -- in case he had any thoughts of leaving her, and the motor in her throat had started up louder than ever. As the brownweyrling's voice momentarily stopped, Moth meowed sweetly, clearly asking more attention.

As if she didn't get enough already.

[topaz]

Mallowth had already been fed that morning, and bathed the day before, so C'vin was free to do his chores. Like he actually wanted to. Archive Duty sounded dreadfully dull. At least in the kitchens or by the river there was always something interesting going on, but stuck up in a dusty old room for hours a day did not at all appeal to the usually active weyrling. Feeling only the faint presence of his dragon's mind in his, C'vin could tell that the blue had finally decided to sleep. The boy was rather disappointed though. It would have been nice to be able to talk to Mal during his work, to keep him entertained. The dragon did need his sleep though, growing rapidly and showing little sign of stopping at this point.

On his way down the designated hallway to the Records Room, C'vin could hear some commotion in the distance. Strange. One wouldn't associate loud noise with piles of old scrolls and ink. Nearing the doorway, C'vin heard a familiar voice. Tr'esn. He smiled slightly. Maybe this chore wouldn't be so mind numbing after all. However the other voice that reached his ears, the blueweyrling did not recognize. And, was that...meowing?

Finally arriving at the room, C'vin turned left through the doorway and peered around cautiously. There was Tr'esn and apparently another weyrling with....yes. A white little kitten on his foot. "Is that a kitten?" The boy asked stupidly. He had seen very few felines in his entire eighteen years at the Weyr, and they always scurried away before he could take a second look. This one, however, seemed quite comfortable around humans. Blatantly so actually, as he watched the white ball of fluff peer adoringly and pleadingly up at the nameless weyrling in front of him. "Does it, belong to one of you?" He asked further, looking first up at Tr'esn, with a slight smirk at his lips. He could vaguely remember a rule about no felines in the barracks, but...the thing was rather cute. Wether it belonged to someone or not, it looked far too small and helpless to fend for it's own in the wild just yet. Surely Sel'n, nor anyone else for that matter, would force it out into the unforgiving Southern forests?

[Requiem]

"Moth, huh?" M'ta found himself still staring down at the kitten in mild bemusement. What was the thing's obsession with his foot? She was cute, yes, no denying that. Cute enough that Behruth would likely want to keep her the moment he saw her, so of course M'ta could hardly blame Tr'esn for the kitten if Oquith took a shining to her. But he wasn't exactly the sort of person who liked to spend an inordinate amount of time fondling a feline. For now it was okay. He just hoped she found something more interesting pretty swiftly.

"Well, Moth, I hope you don't get too used to this. Your little springboard over there won't be able to lavish his affections on you all the ti-" M'ta's words cut off mid-sentence, as did the motion of his hand over the cat's spine. Indeed, his free hand drifted toward the small of his back where one of the three hidden knives always lay nestled. The brownweyrling wasn't exactly someone you'd call social. Even with Behruth's influence, his interactions were mostly with those in his own weyrling class, the few friends he'd already made outside it through his turns of candidacy, and the invisible people of the weyr - the drudges. Thus he didn't recognize this other on sight.

Unfortunate, really. Because the first thing he did notice was both that this was a strange male and that he was almost obscenely tall. M'ta didn't do strange males well. Especially large males. But Behruth's presence was close in the back of his mind, weighing in on him. Watching. Waiting. He knew he couldn't distress the brown. Ever since the dreams...well, ever since M'ta let slip to Behruth that not everything in his dreams were just made up, the brown had been adamant about not drawing blade on anyone. The young dragon found it very, very frightening, the memories. Particularly that one night. And the fact that M'ta hadn't just killed in Bitra didn't make it any better.

When the older boy drew closer, though, he could see that this one was a weyrling. That didn't exactly make him relax, but M'ta straightened and let both hands fall to his sides. The kitten was all but forgotten. "She's T'resn's," he stated quietly, his eyes focused intently on the newcomer. "You're who again?" No, he didn't introduce himself. He had a bad habit of forgetting to observe those sorts of social niceties. The blueweyrling may not have noticed how stiff and closed off M'ta had become, but Tr'esn must have picked up on it, if only because the boy had been acting so differently a moment ago.

[Avu]

Oh, he was talking again! Moth loved human company (actually, she just loved company, never mind the kind), and the sound of funny human-noises was welcome. Never in her life had the kitten been yelled at, and therefore she automatically associated sound with good. With attention and with love and with fun. It didn't matter that she understood not a single word of what M'ta was saying: It was only important that he was still caressing her, soothing her itches. It felt sooo good...the white kitten rubbed her head against his hands, trying to wind herself entirely around him. She wanted to keep him! (Tr'esn was good about petting her when she wanted it, too, but you could never have too many people petting you, oh no.) Emerald eyes were narrowed in her purr, the sound vibrating out of her as she peered upwards at M'ta, ears flicking back and forth to catch the sounds that he was making.

A voice, a new voice, and abruptly her new playmate stopped talking to her and petting her. Ears pricking in surprise, Moth swiveled her head around to peer around M'ta's legs to stare at the new person. The white kitten huffed in quiet protest at the lack of attention as her playmate straightened, trying to rub against his hands -- except that they were soon out of her reach. She slid off of his feet and started towards the blueweyrling, but instantly Tr'esn (who had been waiting for this) leaned forward, grabbing Moth around the middle and pulling her up to his chest, arms curling possessively around the kitten, who squirmed once and then lapsed into delighted purrs as he began to stroke her, scrambling awkwardly to his feet and smiling in faint embarrassment at C'vin as the boy spoke.

Too many people. Too many people knew...Tr'esn decided to start counting the days till they moved out of the barracks. "Yes," he answered to the first question, one eyebrow arching slightly in amusement. "Moth." Nibbling on his shirt collar, the kitten peered around at C'vin, teeth still busy chewing on the fabric in an attempt to get more attention from Tr'esn. The boy absently tugged his shirt away from Moth, managing a weak shrug at C'vin. The rules were so limiting, and Tr'esn was already mentally preparing a defense if Sel'n did happen to find out about Moth and attacked about it. She was no longer the tiny kitten she had been when Oquith had found her, but she was ill-prepared to fend for herself -- in all honesty, she'd probably want to play with prey and not even eat it -- or, worse yet, try and play with the wild felines who had absolutely no problems with killing. (She was utterly adorable, too, but Tr'esn doubted the brownrider wanted to hear that.) He sighed slightly as Moth's purr intensified and then the kitten squirmed to get into the warm comfort of his shirt.

C'vin's second question was answered by M'ta, and the greenweyrling flicked a startled glance at his companion, biting his lip uncertainly. M'ta certainly hadn't been so -- cold a minute ago. Oquith caught the vague flutter of distress, and the green's question came quickly: What happened? C'vin happened, Tr'esn answered thoughtlessly, still trying to figure out what had incited such a response from M'ta. How does Mallowth's.../happen/? Oquith asked after a pause, as bewildered as Tr'esn. He, uh, came? The greenweyrling was promptly distracted, though, as Moth, deciding that his attention was not enough, squirmed out of his shirt again and then dropped to the floor, landing with a highly undignified thump and then skirting M'ta to sit directly in front of C'vin, peering up at him, emerald eyes gleaming hopefully as she mrowled, her rough sandpaper tongue emerging to lick his ankle.

[topaz]

"You're who again?"

C'vin was slightly taken aback by the brownweyrling's curt tone. He certainly had never met him before, so his strangely phrased question came off as a bit condescending, or simply rude..C'vin couldn't decide, but didn't care anyway. He exhaled shallowly and eyed the boy for a moment before responding. "I'm C'vin, of Mallowth." Turning his attention quickly away from the weyrling, C'vin looked to Tr'esn with a friendly smile. "Moth, huh? She looks like a handful." He chuckled softly, watching the little kitten squirming in the greenweyrling's arms.

Suddenly the white feline plopped right out of Tr'esn's hold and onto the floor, rounding the brownweyrling and taking a seat in front of C'vin. C'vin grinned as he crouched down, eyeing the little beast. "She's rather cute though, aye? Even if she is a wily little escape artist." The blueweyrling hovered his hand near the cat's head for a moment, to make sure it wouldn't try and nip at him. The little thing seemed to crave affection though, as C'vin watched her big green eyes, and he finally began softly scratching her head. "Quite the fluffball aren't you?" He whispered quietly to the kitten in front of him. Obviously, she couldn't understand him, but he spoke in a tone that could only mean good things were being said.

A thought quickly crossed the weyrling's mind as he pet the feline, and he slowly reached back with his free hand for the door. Groping for it blindly, while keeping his eyes on the kitten, he finally found the edge of it nearby and swung it closed. It slowed slightly as it reached the frame, and closed with a soft thud and a click. "We wouldn't want you running about the entire Weyr now, would we?" He chuckled, both hands now generously scratching the kitten's neck, shoulders, and sides.

[Requiem]

He noticed the kitten's departure, but only vaguely. It wasn't the most important thing to him right now. C'vin? The brownweyrling noted the older boy's antagonism subconsciously, his mind turning over the name. Blueweyrling...Mallowth. Yes, Mallowth. Without even realizing it, he'd drifted slightly, subtly placing himself between C'vin and Tr'esn. M'taMine. Is there something actually wrong, or are you just getting...strange again? It's distracting. Blinking, he straightened, a little surprised to find that he'd bent into his knees as if preparing to spring forward. Then he almost laughed at himself. How could two or three turns undo ten of conditioning, after all?

He needed to calm down. Much as he didn't feel excited, his senses were heightened at the moment, which meant higher adrenaline. M'ta backed away, too feral at this stage to chance risking exposing his back, determining that he'd come here to push a quill around and he should probably get to that and get out before - The door closed and his reaction was instantaneous. M'ta's eyes flared wide then narrowed, arms sweeping up in the fraction of a second, two of the concealed blades - a dirk and a dagger - gripped lightly in his hands. His body was in a crouch, muscles tensing then relaxing...something that usually only happened right before he attacked.

Mine! His bare toes flexed against the floor. You promised, M'taMine. You promised. No pointed shinies. He shook his head to get the distressed dragon's voice out of it, blades lowering slightly. You promised no pointed shinies unless someone attacked you first. M'taMine. Please. Something finally broke through, and the darkness gathering at the edge of his vision, the sense of purpose that was simple bloody survival, dissipated. His chest heaved and he stepped back, thrusting the blades back into their sheathes with undisguised violence. His face had gone pale which, with his naturally dark skin, turned him pasty. C'vin was...petting...the feline. M'ta wet his lips, more horrified even than Behruth at how close he'd come to attacking and likely killing a boy for no reason. For closing a door.

Thrusting the wave of self-loathing aside, his gaze fell angrily on C'vin. It was the only way he knew how to deal with the upset worming through his gut. Why'd the idiot have to go and close the door? Blocking the exit? But even M'ta had to admit that he was probably one of maybe a handful in the south who would react so violently to his only means of escape being cut off in so innocent a manner. A pop heralded Jabari's arrival, the brown settling on his shoulder, tail wrapped around one bicep as the flitter rubbed his head along his minepet's neck, crooning and chirping questioningly. You sent him, didn't you? He was afraid and came here, so I sent him to you. It isn't so bad with me or Jabber, and since I can't come... M'ta worried his lip between his teeth lightly. Thanks, Ruth.

The brownweyrling turned and withdrew to a desk seated in such a way that no one could sneak up on him, though this was due less to M'ta's paranoia and more to protect anyone from startling him in his present mood. He picked up a quill and began writing furiously. The sudden need to get back to Behruth pressed in.

[Avu]

Tr'esn couldn't quite tell if C'vin was aware that M'ta had suddenly become very, very, inexplicably (to him) cold. The greenweyrling rocked slightly on his feet, nervously glancing from C'vin to M'ta and then, numbly, at Moth, uncertain as to where he ought to be looking. Twisting his fingers together behind his back, Tr'esn wet his lips, pale gray eyes flickering up to C'vin as he gave the answer to the brownweyrling's curtly-voice questioned. No comment about his...abrupt lack of warmth. Perhaps for the better, but it made Tr'esn wonder if the blueweyrling simply wasn't aware that M'ta had been much nicer company a few seconds ago. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, faced with a situation like this, and he rocked uncertainly, wishing he had Moth to distract himself with.

As it was, the kitten was clearly delighted by C'vin as the boy leaned down, immediately butting at his hand with her head, her tongue rasping out to lick his thumb happily. As he began to caress her head, Moth began to purr immediately, her eyes closed trustingly as she leaned into the blueweyrling's hand, quite literally collapsing against him and rubbing her head against his fingers. The pleasant sensation of man's hand -- she would never get enough of it. No...no, never. She wanted him to keep rubbing her; it felt so good. The kitten presently moved, shifting from directly in front of C'vin to plop onto the blueweyrling's foot, leaning her body against his leg in a clear rejection of his leaving. He must...he must stay! She demanded it, she did....

The greenweyrling still focused uncomfortably on Moth, still rubbing uncertainly, absently, at his palm with the thumb of the other hand, blinking nervously. He glanced at M'ta, and then back at C'vin, as the blueweyrling reached back, closing the door to the Archives. The soft click made him start slightly -- not because he was wary of the door being closed, but because the sound was simply -- surprising. Moth made no sign of hearing it, too busy being spoiled by C'vin, and then Tr'esn glanced over at M'ta to check his reaction again. Instantly, he froze eyes widening to almost comical proportions as he took an instinctive step backwards, heart skipping a beat. The light of the Archives gleamed off of two blades, held by the brownweyrling in a definitely threatening way. Not, the greenweyrling realized a second later, threatening towards him -- but towards C'vin.

C'vin.

What was it about him that made M'ta so -- so abruptly hostile? The boy was so friendly. He'd always been friendly, to Tr'esn, at least, and Ke'rin, too, hadn't been treated badly. Tr'esn had frozen, uncertain, sweat prickling nervously at his palms as he stared at M'ta, wanting to say something and not knowing what he ought to say. He could tell that his alarm was picked up by Oquith, and he instinctively tried to shrink back into the green dragon's mind, but found her uncertain, too, bewildered. What's he doing? What's Mallowth's doing? Mine? Mine?! He didn't know how to respond to such an obvious threat of violence, and Tr'esn's mental response was stammering, too. He's -- I -- I -- C'vin's -- Qui, I don't know, I don't know!

But it was over as quickly as it had happened. M'ta sheathed both knives, and, as a brown firelizard arrived, the weyrlingrider stepped away and -- left. With the same cold abruptness that he'd adopted since C'vin had arrived, leaving Tr'esn staring after him, and then stepping towards C'vin absently to grab Moth off his foot, cradling the kitten, who was still squirmy and oblivious, against his chest. Burying his chin against the scruffy fur, he inhaled, trying to steady himself. "I..." He didn't know what to say, shardit. "...I just don't know," he stammered, leaning against one of the shelves of records. Moth, perhaps feeling the flutter of his heartbeat, was quiet, ceasing her motions to butt her head affectionately at the underside of Tr'esn's chin, blinking green eyes in M'ta's direction, wide and curious.

Why had he left? Didn't he want to play?

[topaz]

Happily stroking the sweet kitten, C'vin didn't notice the brownweyrling's slight change of position, but even if he did, it would not have meant anything to the boy. However as he reached back and closed the door, the other weyrling deftly pulled out two knives and got into a defensive position. The sound of the metal being unsheathed made C'vin's head shoot up in confusion, his brown eyes blinking up at M'ta.

C'vin quickly realized that he did not have a weapon on him. He did own a belt knife, but he felt relatively safe in Senelitas Weyr, as he was very familiar with it, having lived here his entire life. He never would have thought he'd need a weapon to protect him during chores; archive duty, of all things!

He kept in a crouched position, protectively hovering over Moth, as if the brownweyrling wished to harm the defenseless kitten. However unlikely that seemed, C'vin stopped petting the feline, and simply held it between his hands. C'vin could see the feral look in the boy's eyes and suddenly felt a presence in his mind. Mine! What is happening?! C'vin initial shock had been enough to rouse Mallowth out of a peaceful sleep, and the little blue's mindvoice was riddled with anxiety and worry. Nothing Mal . . . nothing yet. You were scared! I could feel it! What is wrong? C'vin ignored his dragon's cries and kept his focus on his possible attacker.

Suddenly there was a change in the brownweyrling's demeanor. He shook his head, as if just coming out from a trance, and finally sheathed his blades. A pop, and a brown flitter settled on M'ta's shoulder. Then without a word, the boy moved over to a writing desk and began scribbling away fiercely at a piece of parchment. Closing his partially agape mouth, C'vin relaxed and straightened, picking up Moth as he stood. He absently stroked the feline as he kept his eyes on M'ta, heartbeat slowing and his breathing deepening to normal levels. Taking a glance at Tr'esn, C'vin saw the greenweyrling coming for Moth, and he relinquished the warm little body reluctantly.

"I...I just don't know"

C'vin didn't know either. I mean . . . what in Faranth was that?! Mine . . . you are calm now? What happened? Another weyrling. He was going to attack me . . . for some reason. A renewed flush of panic washed over C'vin's mind. Who was it? Did you get away from them? Please Mal. I am alright. There's no reason to freak out. I am coming! C'vin sighed, and almost smiled, but his present company held it back. Don't be silly Mallowth. You cannot come into the archives room, you'll knock all kinds of things over, and the harpers will have your head . . . well, more like my head. I assure you, I'm just fine. Besides, Tr'esn is here too. I'm sure he wouldn't have let me die. C'vin wasn't completely sure of that fact, but it was comforting nonetheless to say it. Oquith's? Mallowth said the name in a curious, and decidedly happier, tone. Yes. Oquith's is good. He would not hurt you. I like him. This seemed to finally placate the beast, as C'vin could feel the blue's frantic feelings receding.

C'vin glanced over to M'ta, still scribbling away, and then to Tr'esn. He shrugged.

Awkward.

[Requiem]

M'ta cast a glance up at the two other weyrlings, just to be sure they hadn't done anything...strange. After so many months of reining in his deeply engrained paranoia, it popped right out again in the middle of the archives, when the blueweyrling was petting a kitten. Clearly he wasn't at all over anything yet. Not good. Not good. The other weyrlings may not overreact, but what if it had been a full dragonrider or, worse, one of the ranking riders? And why not? If he could get all upset over a boy...and what was to say next time he'd stop? They might seem like silly concerns, but he'd - he'd -

Closing his eyes, he tried to banish the images. The twisted, contorted bodies. The blood. The feel of flesh giving way and the rage surging through him. No one knew of the gambling house here, not of the second floor and the kids...Even in Bitra, there were few who knew that one night a battered and broken boy had walked out of the gambling house, covered in the blood of the men who ran that second floor. Just walked out. No one had tried to stop him. M'ta bit his lip, focusing on the words on the page. To think that he might be capable of something like that again terrified him. It couldn't be true. And yet...and yet what had nearly happened here?

Behruth's mind enwrapped his, dreadfully frightened as well, but trusting. So trusting. Certain that the same darkness wasn't there now. You were just scared, M'taMine. Scared that something will happen and you won't be able to stop it. Not the same. He blinked back tears, finding a new fear...the fear that he might let Ruth down. Never, the dragon whispered.

Fortunately, the tears never did escape. He heard Tr'esn's words and couldn't hold back a bitter laugh. "No, of course not," he growled low, not caring if they could hear or not. His voice rose, but he didn't look at them. "Just go back to your playing."

Behruth stirred uneasily in his spot by the river. Oquith...I am sorry. Mine does not mean to scare Yours. He just gets afraid sometimes, the brown told his clutchmate quietly. He had an impulse to go find her and try to make her feel better, even though he had no true way of knowing that she was upset. Behruth just knew that he would be if he was in her position. It is safe. It was always safe for Yours.

[Avu]

The silence was unnerving, and Tr'esn didn't know how to fill it. He was still...utterly confused. Had he at least recognized what it was that had gotten such a...vivid reaction from his fellow weyrlingrider, he could have at least used that as comfort. But he didn't know -- not really. The door closing had been the -- the signal, he supposed, but what about C'vin had made him so nervous to begin with completely evaded Tr'esn. He liked the blueweyrling, and he didn't understand how he was perceived as at all threatening. C'vin was friendly; he was good company, and Oquith liked him well enough, which only put him higher in Tr'esn's regard. It was rare that Oquith openly disliked anybody, but when she actually liked someone, it was nearly impossible for Tr'esn not to like them as well -- her affection was contagious.

He wet his lips and then bit at the lower one, completely at a loss as he curled his arms possessively around Moth, face pressed into the kitten's fur. The earthy scent of her, the way she squirmed affectionately against him, reassured him, calmed the erratic, wild beating of his heart. Large gray eyes closed as he inhaled through his mouth, his stomach slowly unclenching. Calm, Mine, Oquith soothed, her own nervousness obvious in her clumsy attempt to soothe his nerves as the weyrlingrider inhaled again, squeezing his eyes shut further as he leaned against the shelves, one arm holding Moth up against his chest as he propped the other along one of the shelves, leaning solemnly against it and resting his chin along his fist.

M'ta's comment made the greenweyrling start, and a slight flush entered his cheeks as he dropped his eyes, miserable. The last comment intensified the flush, and he drew back uncertainly. His playing? The way he said it made Tr'esn sound so much younger than he...of course, he was. C'vin was probably older than Tr'esn was, but...but he wasn't that young, and to be treated as such stung. He was no errant Weyrbrat...but he wasn't going to say anything about it, either. No. M'ta's sudden violent outburst scared him too badly. For perhaps that reason -- he was scared -- he didn't want to try to go back to trying to copy records. His hands were steady enough now, but he wouldn't be surprised if they started shaking when he tried to concentrate and actually do something as precise as writing.

Absently, he slid into a seated position, crossing his legs and avoiding looking at either C'vin or M'ta as he looked down at Moth, focused wholly on spoiling the kitten, who was, for once, sensing the gravity of the situation, quiet, rubbing slightly against his hand as Tr'esn leaned fully against the bookshelf, his free arm coming around to rub Moth shakily, running his fingers through her fur as he kept his gaze uncertainly at a point at the ground. Instinctively, automatically, he tilted his head forward to let his hair fall in front of his eyes and face, hiding his emotions from view as he swallowed nervously. "I...guess we ought to...to do chores, then," he finally said, cringing at the inadequacy of the statement. But he just didn't know what to say, what to do. What he really wanted to do was leave...

Oquith gave a visible twitch as Behruth addressed her, and the small green dragon's tail twitched in surprise as her head came around, peering around to make sure Behruth hadn't seen her start. As he wasn't nearby, she huffed quietly, reaching for the brown's mind carefully. She wasn't, however, sure of what to say. Yours...was scared? I'm sorry, she faltered uncertainly. I -- Mine -- is scared, yes, but he's getting better now. I -- I don't suppose you can tell me why Yours was frightened? Mine is /very/ confused, the green explained shyly, aware she was asking for secrets as she curled up against the ground, flicking a nervous glance in the direction of the Archives.

[topaz]

((Sorry this is so fail/late. Don't eat me. <3))

Playing? Who was playing? C'vin frowned at the brownweyrling's bitter comment. Who did he think he was? They were all weyrlings and all around the same age, C'vin guessed. There was something off about this boy, but the blueweyrling didn't really care to know at that point. It was a very difficult thing to get on C'vin's bad side, the naturally cheerful boy that he was. However M'ta was certainly heading in that direction. Not even an apology!

C'vin turned back to Tr'esn as the greenweyrling spoke, and nodded. "Yeah. I suppose we should." Taking a seat, decidedly opposite of M'ta and closer to Tr'esn, C'vin gingerly picked up an inkwell and quill and found some old, faded parchment to copy over. He did not work quickly, stopping every sentence or so just to look around. He felt a little uneasy now, even though the immediate danger was over. The tension in the musty room was palpable, and C'vin fidgeted in his seat.

Mine. I think I will go find Oquith, I cannot fall back asleep with your mind fluttering all about. You are sure you are safe? C'vin smiled slightly. Yes Mal. I'm just fine. It's just . . . weird. And try not to bother Oquith if you do find her. I'm sure she's not all too happy about what happened either. A reluctant yes was all that came from the blue, who was obviously not happy himself about needing to be warned. He was only going to see her and talk. She was very nice. She would not be mad at him.

It took a few minutes for Mallowth to wind his way through the corridors, down the stairs and to the dock platform. Blue whirling eyes searched along the shore for his destination. There was much green around the river as it was, so finding a green dragon - probably sunning herself, as Mallowth assumed - would be slightly more difficult. Ah ha! The sun shining off the green's healthy hide was like a beacon to the still smaller blue, and he quickly jumped in the river and swam her way.

Hello Oquith! He greeted her with a croon as he emerged from the water about a dragonslength downstream. He swatted the excess water from his wings before he reached her, and carefully placed himself far enough away so that he would not get her wet. Stretching his wings out to dry, Mallowth turned a jewel faceted orb in her direction, twirling with pleasure, as well as some slight yellow shades of anxiety remaining from C'vin's near-death experience; or so his dragon thought of it. How are you? Mine tells me Yours is with him and the other one. Yours is alright, yes? The blue asked, clearly concerned.