Watch the Temper! ( Vantayne is searched)

Monaco Bay Weyr-Cove Beach

The darkling black of the sand merges with the crystal blue of the water, creating a brilliant and playful blend of color that fluctuates by sunlight and moonlight. The cove spreads from the mouth of the river towards the ocean, mixing saltwater with fresh for an invigorating rush that is teeming with life.


It's a couple hours after his excursion into the Galleries, Vantayne suddenly finding himself yearning for open skies and less oppressive heat on his face. So it is that the holder's found wandering along the beach, his pants rolled up below knees, his boots tied by their laces over one shoulder, and his broad-brimmed sunhat cocked down to preserve his vision some under the sun's intense rays. At this point, he's enjoying whatever the scenery has to offer in silence, a simple smile touching his mouth as toes dig into sand.

Silence? Oh poor poor Vantayne, that's certainly not going to last for long…Feyran's here! The trader girl apparently has some time off because she's just wandering around the beach barefooted. Her outfit is much the same as usually, leggings, a dress, and that extra frumpy looking jacket. She whistles some terrible tune that's completely off key as she walks and occasionally pauses to kick up some water. There's nothing to catch her attention until…there! "Oy! You from the hold…Vanna!" There's a grin as well as a wave to poor Vantayne, whose name she's remembered wrong. If it's any comfort, Fey usually needs to meet someone more than a few times to remember their name right.

He might not recognize her voice, but that face… Vantayne almost audibly winces when Feyran's whistle, then her person appear, his quiet despoiled in total in one instant. To that inaccurate name call is barked back, "It's VanTAYNE…" the holder then instantly regretting that irritated blurt, as it likely encourages her to join him.

"Right, Vantayne…I'll remember that next time!" No, no she won't. But at least it's close? Feyran grins, most certainly encouraged to go over and join him. She slips both hands into her pockets and heads right on over with a grin. Sure she's noticed the wince, but that doesn't seem to deter her in the least. "So what happened the other day? Did you manage to find a rig that worked for ya or…did you end up going somewhere else for your bow carrying needs?"

Like shells, she will…and that's the look in his hazel eyes as they lock with Feyran's own gaze. Mumbled in smooth baritone, "Had ta' go to a booth. They're making me one…" Since he's obviously still in possession of the old one strapped over his shoulder, though the bow itself and his arrows, quiver are missing. With the aire of the much-put-upon the holder simply continues to walk slowly along the beach, though he's no longer enjoying it quite as much.

Sindrieth had been on the sands during the whole clutching, and now - now, he figures he deserves a break. The bronze glints in and circles around a couple times, his brightly coloured wings easily visible before he lands in the water to enjoy some of the slightly cooler temperature. He's got some precious time while the golds figure out how to divide their territory before he should return, so perhaps even the bronze needs a break from females.

"Ah…good, well hopefully it gets done soon. The one you've got right now looks pretty worn out." Feyran glances sideways at Vantayne while walking along beside him and eventually lets her gaze fall on his current rigging. There's a slight tsk for it before she continues on. Luckily for him, distraction comes in the form of Sindrieth's wings and Feyran actually falls silent for a moment when she catches sight of those colors. "Oh! He's here!" Wings wings wings wings! Feyran pauses in her step, craning this way and that to see if the bronze might pop out of the water again and show those fancy wings.

He's not had a chance to see any of the Weyr's dragons /quite/ so up close, and so when the bronze swirls in overhead, then lands in the waters not far out beyond them, Vantayne gawks some, his eyes wide as they fixate on the gigantic (to him, anyway) dragon. Impressive. Feyran's nattering goes partially in one ear, and out the other, but the young man finally takes some heed of her next call, his eyes flicking over to check out her reaction before returning to the bronze. "What; the dragon? Or his rider? D'you know them?"

Sindrieth ducks under the water for a moment, before resurfacing and trudging closer to the shoreline. His wings are curled up, no seeing the brilliant display that's under them. He's a large bronze, one of the largest in the weyr and almost the same size as Ceresth, whom he was coddling on the sands while she laid /their/ eggs. R'en isn't too far behind, though he stopped to get something to drink before coming out to the shore with a bucket of oil to deal with the drying effect the sands had on the bronze. However.. Well, Feyran is here and he pauses in his steps as though considering if he should tell the bronze to meet him at their weyr instead. "Shards, you're.. everywhere.." He mutters.

"I do…R'en and Sindrieth, though his dragon's more fun than he is. R'en's kind of a stick in the mud sometimes…aren't ya?" Feyran manages to time her words so that she finishes just as the bronzer arrives. There's a grin thrown in his direction followed by a cheeky wink before she's turning her attention back to Vantayne. "You should get a look at the underside of his wings, they're kind of amazing…" She /might/ have wiggled around on the sands to catch a glimpse once, so it shouldn't be surprising that Feyran is dropping onto the sands again and just kind of staring at the folded wings. Maybe if she waits long enough….

Ahh…/there's/ aforementioned rider, and he's apparently having the same reaction to Feyran that Vantayne has. The holder's eyes flick back and forth between the other two humans and the bronze out there on the water, but finally Tayne's regard slides reluctantly back to the entering R'en - awarding him a knowing little smirk and a bob of head in greeting - while Fey's reaction to the bronzer calls up a small loft of brows. "What?" the holder artlessly inquires of the underside of the dragon's wings, the young man's gaze drawn back toward Sindrieth, once again.

Sindrieth does appear to enjoy the attention, much to R'en's disdain. The bronze shifts, though he doesn't move his wings from his sides, and gives Feyran a rumble. The bronzerider gives up, and walks closer to where the dragon is and sets the bucket of oil down on the edge of the sands before the water laps up towards it, so he can take off his sandals and roll up his pants. "I'm not a stick in the mud, I'm just more mature than you." He decides of Feyran, and reaches up to touch the bronzes muzzle which has been lowered so he can get a scratch at the end of it. Definitely, the bronze is pretty close to the group of three.

"It's true, if you get a glimpse at the other side of his wings…" Feyran grins and shoots Vantayne a thumbs up, "They're awesome!" That seems to be her oh so wonderful assessment. Which basically means that Vantayne isn't getting much more of an explanation than that. "C'mon…let's go bug them." There's a wicked grin and she motions Vantayne to the water. Though whether he joins in or not, Fey's going to wade in after R'en. "Oh really? That's quite a remark to make Mr. Mature. I've only seen you have fun…twice I think." There's a grin before she's waving over to Sindrieth in reply to the rumble. "Not in the mood to show your handsome wings today?"

Bug them? He too is apparently too mature for that, and when Feyran does indeed step towards the rider to do so, Vantayne merely trails slowly behind her, trying to get glimpses of the bronze's wings, if possible, while his ears remain glued to the others' exchange. When Fey inquires directly of the dragon, the holder looks rather aghast at her, quickly noting, "You /don't/ ask things of another's dragon." A quick and yet formal, "Sorry, bronzerider," is noted over to R'en.
Sindreith does move his wings slightly, and while the bronze is actually pretty dark and dully colored over his exterior, there is a glimmer of brightness that reflects under his body from when his wings slide open even slightly. The reflection of Rukbat in the water brings the light under them, and shows that they are much brighter in their bronzen colour than his body. R'en doesn't seem impressed at all in the fact that Feyran decides to come bother them, the bronzerider just sighs a little and reaches for his bucket to apply some of the oil on the bronze's hide. "It's alright… what's your name?" He ask of Vantayne, and acts almost as though Feyran doesn't exist. Did she say something? Hard to tell if he heard her. However, the bronze did, and gives her more of a glimpse under his wings.

"Uhhh…why not? It's not like I'm telling him to mind speak me or anything." When Feyran says mind speak, she brings a couple of fingers up and waggles them next to her forehead. "He didn't eat me last time, I don't think he'll eat me this time either. Knock me into the water maybe…." There's a glance backwards to the bronze, /just/ in case. And there it is! Feyran doesn't squeal, but instead she gives a whoop of delight and slides into the water until she's floating on her back. /This/ is the only proper way to get a glimpse at those wings. "They're still so beautiful…" There might even be an appreciative sigh! R'en? He can go be a stick in the mud with Vantayne!

"It's just…impolite…" Vantayne notes quietly back to Feyran, though he obviously doesn't seem to expect her to heed him, since she's not bothering to heed the bronzerider. Word of the bronze knocking her into the drink does earn the young woman a slight smirk, her whoop of joy making Tayne glance out to where her own gaze alights. Ohh…very nice wings indeed, even if not shown off in all their glory. The holder smiles quite openly at 'mister handsome' hexaped out there in the ocean, then whipping his head around to be able to answer R'en back quickly enough, "Vantayne." Pause, peer. "Apparently you've already met Feyran." His dry tone implies a lot, as does the holder's bland look and laughing eyes. "Your lifemate's wings are quite impressive."

R'en appears somewhat pleased that Feyran has decided that Sindrieth's wings are much more interesting than talking to him - or bothering him, but he can't help but say, "He might step on you." He gives a smirk that seems as though there's a morbid intent behind it, like he wouldn't mind if the bronze 'accidentally' misstepped. However, the bronze hasn't moved other than to fan out his wings a little more so that Feyran can be impressed - and distracted. What a grand lifemate R'en has. "Nice to meet you. I'm R'en, I guess you know that now." He says, as the bronze shifts to give the trader a sniff unless he backs away. "Sindrieth appreciates the compliment. He thinks you smell good." What does that mean? No explanation is given, could mean for dinner.. though probably not.

"Hey, just because I'm not paying attention to you two doesn't mean I can't hear that tone of voice, I'm right here!" But despite Feyran's words of warning, she doesn't seem bothered by what it sounds like they think of her. In fact, her tone of voice is more amused than anything. "He wouldn't step on me!" Probably. One can hope…he didn't last time! Feyran continues to float about on her back, apparently willing to take her chances. She'll applaud a couple of times when the light hits Sindrieth's wings just right, but….the trader girl really does seem to have been tamed by a pair of pretty wings. Lucky R'en and Vantayne, they should appreciate the distraction while it lasts!

He might? Though it's not /him/ that might be stepped on, currently, Vantayne surreptitiously sidles out of Sindrieth's direct line of sight, leaving Feyran on her own, if she's to be squished. But there's flashy wings again, and their glory draws Tayne's wide glance like flame does a moth, the holder's features subsumed by a sudden mix of warring emotions all at once at the sight. Feyran's words snap him out of it, and the young man seems about to say something to her…and then thinks better of re-attracting her attention, remains silent. Blink. "He heard me? I mean… listened to me?" Surprise, and a little shock are noted in Tayne's hazel eyes, which dart back and forth between rider and dragon, until fixing once more upon Sindrienth, who gets a small, very polite bow. "What does she smell like, to him?" is quietly inquired of R'en.

Sindreith moves his tail in the water, causing some waves and making it more difficult for Feyran to float where she wants to. Was it intentional? Perhaps, it's hard to say with the bronze and how much he knows that the girl irritates R'en. The bronze gives the young man a look over with his swirling eyes, and if there is a way that Sindrieth shows appreciation it's with a huff and a nudge of the young man with his nose. Not a heavy nudge, but definitely enough to cause Vantayne to have to step back a couple steps. "He can hear you They're actually very intelligent." R'en says, moving down along the bronze's body and farther into the water. "I'm pretty sure he says she smells like food scraps." He says with a smirk, and the bronze makes a sound that is obvious that he doesn't agree with his rider's assessment.

Nooooo, she's floating away! Feyran bobs away a few feet with the new waves, though her jacket's a bit heavy and makes sure she doesn't get too far. Soon, there's some splashing (oops, did it get on R'en and Vantayne?) as she tries to propel herself back to where she can get a glimpse at Sindrieth's wings again. "Best sharding food scraps on all of Pern! The Weyr food is good, but we've got some cooks in the caravan that could give yours a run for their marks!" Despite a statement that was probably meant to irk the trader girl, she just seems even more amused. In fact…she might even sound a little pleased. Those two actually sound like two sticks in the mud that get along!

He's caught between humor and awe, and so Vantayne settles for some cautious hints of sly smirks at Feyran's 'plight' from the bronze's tail-stirrings, though he knocks that off right-quick when Sindrieth seems to stare directly at him. If he was less stalwart, Tayne might fret and back off, but something makes him hold still, though his gaze drops away from the dragon…the holder concerned that Sindrieth might take a stare as a challenge. Most animals do. "How smart?" Tayne inquires over his shoulder in slightly breathy baritone to R'en…and thus finds himself nearly-totally surprised by that sudden dragon nose in his torso, and the nudge that accompanies it. He doesn't merely step back a couple of paces, but falls back to his ass on the sand, the holder automatically rolling up and away in some reflex action, his form moving into a tight ball, just in case there's teeth to follow. Words of food scraps and caravan cooks are very secondary, right now, as the young man continues to huddle into himself, looking quite silly, perhaps.

R'en looks pretty disappointed that water splashed on him - but, he is up to his knees in the water already, so it hardly matters. He just shoots a glare at Feyran who is trying to get a better view of Sindrieth's wings. "Very smart. Though they don't remember things for too long." He admits, and the bronze decidedly folds them and gives Vantayne a huff of disappointment at the ball of a human he's become. Is that disappointment in the bronze's features - it's difficult to say, though rather than continue to harass Vantayne, he decidedly backs off. R'en falls silent for a while, just slathering on the oil and rubbing it into the hide before finally he shakes his head at Vantayne. "He's not going to eat you. Have you ever heard of a dragon eating someone before?" He's not sure he has, best to ask, right?

Feyran pauses in her floating about to sit up and kneel in the sands. Does she look amused at poor Vantayne's predicament? Why yes, yes she does. In fact, the trader girl might actually be laughing just a little bit. She's not /trying/ to be mean. Fey does feel bad for the poor guy, but it's just a little amusing the way he moves into a ball and Sindrieth seems so put out by the whole thing. "You know, if he was gonna eat anyone I don't think it'd be you. You're not that annoying." Does that mean he's a little annoying or is Fey comparing him to someone else…like herself? Who knows. Either way, the trader girl is content to sit in the shallows and be entertained by the going ons!

Give Tayne a few moments, and when he figures out that he'll not get stomped on nor bitten, he'll uncurl - red-faced, to be sure - and then stand slowly, trying to gather his aplomb about him while dusting himself off from invading sand. Hazel eyes are hooded, his handsome features now settled into a mask of utter neutrality, but the young man does makage to make another slight, if stiffer bow to R'en before his tight baritone clips, "I remembered." Just after he freaked out. "My apologies, Sindrieth. I meant no affront to you or R'en." What small smattering of propriety and control he has left about him is rapidly funneled away by Feyran's small laughter, and her humiliating words. The look in his eyes alone might make the trader choke, though all his mouth forms are the chilly words, "I need to tend to my gear. Good day…" before he's striding along the beach back towards the Weyr-proper, sand flying under bare soles. He's just barely controlling himself. Better that he leaves before things might be said.

Gerazal heads down to the beach and he moves out of the way past Vantayne and he gives a polite nod to him, "Hello." He spots R'en and Feyran out in the water and he gives them a friendly wave, "Hello there, how are you all doing?" He asks as he takes a look to what's going on and he slips out of his footgear to dig his toes into the sand.

Gerazal gets only a faint nod as Vantayne storms by him, sand flung up upon the air in his wake. Is someone ticked off?

It's a moment before R'en registers that Vantayne is actually scurrying away, and Sindrieth seems perturbed by the fact that the trader youth is stalking off. The bucket in R'en's hand unceremoniously ends up in the water, leaving a trail of oil heading right towards where Feyran is laying around under Sindrieth's wings. The bronze knows he shouldn't move, that perhaps he'd cause some trouble for the girl that's always so lovely to him and fascinated with his wings, so the bronzerider is left to do the running down of the young man. "Wait. /Stop/ Vantayne." He clips, more of a command than he is often prone to giving - even when Feyran is really peeving him off. Yep, trudging through the sand with his legs covered in sand sticking to them, he doesn't even give Gerazal much more acknowledgement than a nod as he passes.
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Monaco Bay Weyr - West Clearing

This clearing finds itself nestled into a hook of the pale sanded beach, between the wide mouth of the Paradise River to the east, Monaco Bay to the north, and the ancient rubble of the extinct vulcano. Warm sand can be found in this sheltered cove where the winds find it difficult to whip through, providing hot sand for basking dragons in nearly any weather, as well as shelter under a lip of stone, worn away by centuries of crashing waves, that juts from the main body of the Weyr. The land has been terraced up from both river and ocean, and a seawall put in place to protect the clearing from storm tides and heavy rains.

At this point, there's nothing before Vantayne other than steaming anger, sand, and oceanic vistas, the young holder not really hearing or actually /seeing/ much of anything as he struggles with his temper. So many others - in anger - are like thunderstorms: venting their fury, and then returning to normal. Tayne, however, is a volcano: slowly building, simmering, boiling, and then exploding with a fury that lasts longer, takes time to die off.

R'en attempts to catch up to Vantayne, and reaches for a shoulder even though he probably shouldn't. Might end up with him getting a swing to the face, which he's never really prepared for. Really, he should learn to be, but so far even his crooked nose betrays the fact that he's not very fast in a fight. "Hold up." He insists, though he's starting to sound more frustrated than anything at having to run after someone.

It's a close one… Vantayne pivots around speedily, his arm cocked back, fist tightened, lifted and primed. But that punch never lands, something drilled into him inside his skull staying what would've been something rather brutal. Instead, the holder violently shrugs off that grasp upon his shoulder, and just stands there, breathing heavily, his fists now clenched at his sides, hazel eyes darkened to brown. Even so, his face is still set into harsh lines of self-control, betraying only a little of his ire.

It is no smiling face that Vantayne will pivot towards, cold neutrality that is set on R'en's features as his hand returns to his side after being shaken off. Pale blue eyes give the young man a look over, as though skeptical that the man in front of him is really the one. "Overreact, much?" He asks, though it's rhetorical since he doesn't wait for an answer to his question before suggesting, "She's a brat, and you need thicker skin." There's a pause then, to see how Vantayne will react to his calling him out, before he adds one next thing. "Sindrieth had a question for you before you stormed off, but now I'm not so sure."

He seems about to launch a barrage of invective at R'en when the bronzerider speaks of the holder needing thicker skin, but he's bourne much worse than this before, and so Vantayne simply clenches his fists tighter, stares at the ground between them, and remains silent, a vein throbbing in his temple quite noticably. It's only after some seconds have elapsed between the bronzerider's last words that the holder finally has established enough self-control again to inquire stiffly, emotionlessly, "I did not mean to insult him. What was it?"

R'en still appears skeptical, as he watches Vantayne's throbbing vein and his demeanour. There's a moment where he looks as though he's simply going to turn away, and walk back the way he came rather than deal with the trader. "Sindreith wanted to ask you to stand for the eggs that were just laid. The eggs /he/ sired." He says with a flat tone that betrays the fact that he isn't entirely sure that this sort of scene was warranted for the actions that happened on the beach. "He may think you're worthy, but I'm not entirely sold. The knot is yours if you want it, but don't think that we won't be watching you." He says with a tone that betrays his seriousness. There's no knot offered, not yet.

That… was so very /not/ what Vantayne was expecting to be told. And his utter surprise shows in confused brown eyes that slowly lift from sand up to R'en…and just stare in complete shock and confusion. There's left-over anger there at their periphery, yes, but it's no longer so all-consuming, so in his face. Again, it takes time for Tayne's overloaded brain to process all of this, while he also struggles with simmering leftovers of anger, but after some long spans of seconds, the low-voiced man finds his eyes dropping once again to sands as he replies, "I…don't know if I am, either." Sigh. "I do /not/ want to insult Sindreith…nor you." Again. "I…" Swallow, shiver. "If you'll…have me, I promise I'll give you both no reason to doubt me again." And suddenly, like a new-hatched flirelizard being circled by wild wherries, his hazel eyes lift again, touched with undertones of entrapment. "I need to… to get permission. From my holder."

R'en checks his pockets to see if he has a knot to give him, though it appears that it's a little wet from how he came sloshing out of the water after Vantayne. He holds it up, waiting for the young man to take it, but not without a warning, "That temper, you must watch it. Sindrieth will have no outbursts near the eggs, lest you want to entice a dragon to really eat you." He threatens, though it's hard to tell if it's serious threat or not. "Bring no dishonour to Sindrieth's choice, and I will be pleased. But, like I said, Sindreith and I will be watching you. This is his first clutch, and you are the first I've asked to stand - ever." So, this is all a matter of honour to him, it seems, and even then he still is skeptical. "Ask for your permission, and we will see someone to settle you into the barracks."

The more he listens to R'en speak, the more his volcanic temper subsides, that pulsing vein in his head disappeared back beneath skin. The holder slowly bobs his head at what he hears, his aspect formal, very serious, indeed as if he's taking some sort of deep oath. To the very last, Tayne finally murmurs, "It will take me two days to ride back there, if I start today…with no interruptions from inclement weather."

R'en gives a faint nod to the response, "Alright. Do take care on your way there and back." He offers, though it's not long before he simply looks to walk back and rejoin the bronze that he left with a bucked of oil around his legs and probably Feyran soaked in it.-

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