Aeldhiyth's Got Back

Monaco Bay Weyr - Exercise Yard
Sheltered from the direct heat of the day and the storms of the season by the rocky walls of the weyr, this exercise yard holds a thick layer of lush grass. The yard offers room enough for the entire class of weyrlings to stretch, romp, and practice behind a tall wooden palisade meant to keep the pre-flight dragons from wandering off too far. To the west, just against the palisade, a small coral of ovines and caprines has been erected for convenience. A freshwater pump is installed to the north, against the wall of the caverns, to provide just enough water flow to clean a weyrling dragon after a meal. When the palisade gate is open, there is a clear, stone-lined path leading towards the paradise river and the designated weyrling beach.


"I told you that eating as fast as you have been wouldn't be healthy," an irate Xh'vyr can be heard speaking loudly at a pitiful-looking Aeldhiyth, his unhaughty grandeur brought to an all-time-low. He looks… bloated. He looks very bloated. A dragonhealer stands here, tall and thin and patient, prodding here and there, his brow crinkled. "No intestinal twisting," the older rider reports. "Looks like a fairly standard case of thicktail." Xh'vyr? Xh'vyr groans. He just can't ever get away from this shit.

Fuerioth arrives, pale as the earliest hint of dawn. Her wings are tucked neatly at her sides and her neck arches with grace as she moves towards the exercise yard. Her near-silver tail sways as she walks, nearly melodic. And then there's….Reya. Who is the exact opposite. She's just kind of trudging along in a pair of shorts and a tank top. There's a rock in front of her that she shows particular interest in kicking about. "I'm sure they're fiiiiiine. Take that!" The stone is kicked once more. The gold's arrival is heralded with a mind-full of darkness and cool waters, a pleasant greeting to whoever may be present!

« I told you, I told you, I told you that my brother was sick » the tinkling voice holds discordant notes. « We told him to stop. » and these last words hold a clarion call of pride and lower notes of sorrow for her brother's pain. Cinni walks along side of her, hand on the front haunch of the little green. Ysleth, shining brilliant as a wet leaf in the sunlight, prances into the pen her eyes whirling with concern. Her Rider's face reflects the same concern and silently ask the dragon healer his prognosis.

It's Leketh that's the most difficult to miss, one pale paw placed before the other as he somehow manages to trod gracefully into the exercise yard despite his size, lowering his head down towards the ground to whuffle at just about everyone. That's right. Just about. The dragonhealer gets whuffled. Aeldhiyth gets whuffled. Xh'vyr gets whuffled. Reya gets whuffled. It's only after the whuffling, as delightfully scented as that is, that the bronze rumbles a greeting with one massive whirrling blue facet turned towards the three. J'en steps out from behind him around then, golden eyes taking in the scene before dark lashes lower and his gaze slides towards his lifemate. He wears a deep red tank top, knee length black swim trunks, and bamboo sandals. As his hair has grown far out of its style, it's annoying length has been tied back and out of his face, in a stumpy runner at the back of his head. J'en jerks his chin off towards the side, and Leketh moves off to give everyone breathing room again, even while inspecting Fuerioth quite closely as he does. Another rumble, a greeting just for her. Why, hello.

Xh'vyr doesn't respond at the whuffle, though Aeldhiyth bristles in a possessive manner — despite his sickness — as Leketh intrudes. The gold-glazed bronzelet rearranges himself to curl more possessively around Xh'vyr to the dismay of the dragonhealer, who's going back to get the oil necessary to do this awful job. "Yes, yes, I'm yours," Xh'vyr absently pats a steel-blue joint before squinting over at Cinni and then Reya. And then J'en. He's still distracted by his lifemate's distress, looking foreign enough by his bare-bristle scrub of hair rather than the standard full head of luxurious curls he typically sports.

« Very good observation, Ysleth. » Fuerioth's head drops, her light muzzle moving to touch against the small green's. A wave of approval washes over the small dragon, the gold's waves remaining a refreshingly cool temperature. « You've issues with self control, it seems. » This sent to the small bronze before Fuerioth is moving to settle some feet away. Her large eyes swirl with blue and green at Leketh's arrival, and it's only after he's greeted her that she sends a short warble back to him. "Oh shit, /seriously/. Well like actual shit….Oh man Xh'vyr this is gonna be so fun to watch….from the far end of the field." Reya. Rude. "Nothing too terrible though, right?" Because she does actually have some concern for the hatchlings rather than amusement at other's misfortunes.

What Ysleth experiences, Cinni feels, too. Their minds are transparent to one another, too much so at times. The cool wash of Fuerioth's voice is welcome after Ysleth's boundlessly energetic worrying. Cinni nods formally to the Riders as they walk into the pen and wishes each dragon a good morning as they pass. "Object lessons hurt. Is this like an impacted bowel, sir?" Cinni has approached the dragon healer and asks the question in the understated tones of two healers consulting next to a patient in distress. Behind her, Ysleth warbles high notes of wordless concern for her brother.

That there dragonhealer, he had the medical things well in hand, while J'en trains his attention onto Xh'vyr. Oh, they'd have a chat later about proper control and such after Aeldhiyth was feeing better and fast asleep. No need to upset him more than he already was, given the response to Leketh's inspection. For now, he'd have a bit of a chat with the tall and willowy fellow in soft and unhurried tones before he leaves the man to administer what he needs to. After Fuerioth's warble, Leketh picks a spot to curl up, somewhere close by so he can watch with rapt interest but not so much that he is in the way. Reya is seriously eyed though for her initial jubilance, one of Jae's brows lifting slightly, but for now he goes back to visually inspecting Aeldhiyth with the breathiest of sighs. "Give 'em some room," he states low and cool, holding a hand up towards the gathering crowd, gesturing with it that everyone should back up a bit. J'en follows suit, looking to Ysleth and then Cinni, "Soothe 'er, otherwise Aeldhiyth might get more upset."

« I must be bigger, » Aeldhiyth responds with all sobriety to Fuerioth — but the battlecries aren't that far off, and the wicked scent of the west isn't just from the oil that the dragonhealer's uncorking. Xh'vyr scowls at Reya without actually acknowledging anything, and wordlessly lifts out a hand for the nearby Ysleth, as much for comforting himself from her distress as for herself. That doesn't distress Aeldhiyth, though he stands his ground firmly in the presence of his dam. « I will know to not eat quite so much, » he says in a basso afterthought, more than a little queasy. The whole gross process going down is not going to end well for the ground behind his tail.

« As long as you learn from your mistakes, small setbacks are of no issue. Though this smell….» Fuerioth certainly doesn't seem to care for it because the chill of her mind seems to grow ever sharper. In fact, she moves even /farther/ away and it seems that Reya isn't far behind. "Yeah, not in the mod to smell that….good luck." There's just a tiny hint of sympathy in those last words as she moves to tuck herself behind one of Fuerioth's paws. The gold's attention doesn't shift despite her distance however, swirling eyes resting on the dragon healer, Xh'vyr, and Aeldhiyth in turn.

The Weyrling Master's voice is law; Cinni is prompt to obey, though fascinated by the shifts of nuance that reverberate through the dragons and then through her own lifemate. She steps back to stand besides Ysleth's head and rub her brow. "Quiet love. Quiet, dear heart. This thin man is here to help him feel better as you will help if you are calm. Calm," she whispers. "Remember how cool and peaceful Fuerioth's voice was?" «This will help?» "I promise you," comes her prompt reply. Rubbing her lifemates brow the worried concert of jangled high notes smoothes into the softness of a spring breeze. Cinni watches the goings on with a professional eye.

To be perfectly honest, nothing would have pleased J'en more than to clear the whole place out and let the dragonhealer do his task in peace, but with Reya and Fuerioth there he was probably having trouble reconciling that. Some lines were so gray that they blended into the background, indiscernible. Something is muttered under his breath about 'not needin' no audience' and undoubtedly there is plenty of inappropriate language mixed in there given the strain around the edges of all his neutrality. Minute tension leaks out of his shoulders as Fuerioth and Reya move away, herding Ysleth and Cinni out of the way as well and back to where the adult dragons are lingering. Leketh was all about what the dragonhealer was up to, head stretched out as far as his neck would allow, but still giving Aeldhiyth and Xh'vyr space. "Ya ever 'eard of a private moment ya big lizard?" he growls low at his lifemate, pushing at his snout and backing him up a few paces. Mostly, to keep it out of Aeldhiyth's business end. Cause, ew.

Hand over her nose, Cinni leans in to watch but steps back quickly when the results are spectacular. "Well, splashing is part of the process I suppose." She keeps a cautioning hand on Ysleth's neck who mimicking her young Rider's example watches in fascination with her eyes awhirl. «He's big» chimes the green in crystal clear bell tones. Cinni claps a hand over her face which reddens though the barest hint of a smile quivers on her lips.

Leketh is fascinated, his pale blue facets whirring like mad as he easily sees around the man trying to shove his head away. If anything of this sort had ever happened to him or one of his own clutchmates, he clearly doesn't remember it, and he looks as if he's about ready to bowl J'en over in order to get legit all up in what the dragonhealer is doing to Aeldhiyth and the…results. "Oh no ya dun't," he warns, tapping Leketh on the nose and that at least keeps the bronze from sticking it into said results. Cause I'll be honest. It was close there for a second. "Ya know what scat is, why're ya…?" he mutters and then crinkles his nose as the smell hits him like a ton of bricks, probably having forgotten himself that particular odor. A slightly, albeit brief, expression of offense passes over Jae's features before he nearly chokes on Ysleth's commentary, forcing him to school his expression fast and back into the neutral zone.

It's just good for all involved that Aeldhiyth doesn't overhear that commentary on his size — though he's destined to match Leketh at the apex of his growth, he's not there yet, and the only really oversized thing about him is his ego. Xh'vyr obligingly goes to get a flat shovel and a barrow, though some of the consistency of what he'll be shoveling doesn't seem very conducive to SHOVELING. Does Pern have high-powered pressure washers? Aeldhiyth, for his benefit, is resting his chin on the ground, eyes shuttered mostly closed, breathing shallowly. His flanks still ripple time to time, like he's having phobic flashbacks. This sucks guys :(

There is a little controversy going on between Cinni and Ysleth. The two, normally in so much harmony with one another have hit some turbulence. Cinni is attempting to reason with the green who has decided that she must stay with her clutch brother who clearly needs her help. Why just look at the way his flanks heave! "He needs quiet," Cinni hisses though not in fury, but in a reasonable and calm voice. This is met by what could only be called a tempest in a teacup as Ysleth storms. Their first fight might be a source of laughter later, but right now, Cinni would like to disappear into the Between were it possible. Grasping the green gently by her head knobs Cinni puts her forehead to her dappled snout and gives the equivalent of a mental shout which surprises them both. Released Ysleth sits on her haunches speechless for a moment.

It's a very good thing that Xh'vyr's first impulse is to fetch a shovel, for that could be approval that flickers across Jae's face, or he might be about to vomit. Difficult to say. Whatever the case, Leketh seems to have discovered sense, in that he has abandoned his interest in what is coming out of Aeldhiyth. Instead? He's starting to nose a bit at Cinni and Yselth, physically, nose at them. It's gentle though, with warm gusts of questionably scented air washing over both, while J'en steps away to retrieve none other than hose with a power washer on the end. Yep, it's a thing now, cause no one is here to stop me or tell me how uncannon it is. He's not going to hose down Aeldhiyth though, no, he waits patiently off to the side of the pooper scooper, his oozing (potentially regretful) lifemate, and the dragonhealer to move before turning it on and washing away the evidence. Still, no words directly for the bronzeling yet, as he might have assessed himself and come to the conclusion that if he opened his mouth something aventagious might escape just now. So, wash now, and chew out later. It doesn't keep the faintest of frowns from pulling down the corner of Jae's mouth or erase that furrow none, no it does not.

The solids are dealt with in rapid order, Xh'vyr applying himself with diligence. The dragonhealer bends with his scope to listen to the intestinal noises left behind from the purge, and vets the bronze to be fine, just in the need of hydration and rest. Xhae flicks his attention toward the approaching J'en and a look of relief flashes obviously over his face before he starts toting off the barrow and their scent-grisly contents toward the middens. Aeldhiyth re-arranges his brindled-brass wings after a moment, looking entirely exhausted by the endeavour in which he has just forcefully participated.

A little timely intervention on the part Leketh allows both Cinni and Ysleth to recover. The young woman stands with her head buried in Ysleth's breast and the two of them explain themselves to each other while poop is shoveled. The warm whuffle of Leketh's breath adds another note to the symphony of aromas that fill the area. Ysleth layers acidic notes on that which gentle into something green, tart and bracing (think vetivere) as they the two of them relax back into their habitual calm love. There is still a trace of shock in Cinni's furrowed brow but they both breath easier and turn their attention back to their clutch brother. "How are you, Xh'vyr?" the young woman tenders.

J'en, a hero for our time. That's what he is. A hose carryin', full stream zappin', mutterin', jaw twichin', and scowlin' hero. He power washes away every liquidy or bits of not so liquidy remnants into oblivion and beyond, pointedly ignoring any relief that this might have bestowed upon Xh'vyr in the process. The back of his short shaved head is thrown a few golden daggers that were once his eyes, before he focuses back on the task at hand. Small rocks, grass, twigs, a candy wrapper, all are bent to his will as he swivels his wrist back and forth to direct the spray as he advances to cover more ground and ensure that nothing not secured into the ground itself remains. As soon as he turns off the nozzle though, the language being uttered that whole time comes into stark relief, and its more than capable of making even the most weathered of sailors three shades of red. Dragging the hose back over to the reel from which he had claimed it, J'en coils it back up onto its housing as Leketh admires the two females. One dragon, the other human. He was taught young to keep his thoughts to himself and it was entirely his rider's doing that he stays out out developing minds and newly forged bonds, but not from nudging lightly at Cinni for attention or trying to press his snout into Ysleth. All it takes is a single hiss from J'en though and the bronze back off, starting towards Aeldhiyth, but long stare and a finger pointed in the opposite direction has Leketh slinking off to curl into humongous pale bronze ball and heave a dragon's approximation of a sigh. So mean.

Poor Leketh-puppy. Aeldhiyth has recovered with the return of his lifemate — with freshly-washed hands, even — and the bronze rests his head in the broad cradle of Xhae's arms for the moment, eyes whirling slowly. "You'll never do that again," the once-Smith said, touching his own forehead against those blue-washed headknobs in a motion that heralds to Cinni and Ysleth's a moment before. Speaking of. "We're fine," Xhae calls back to Cinni, casting them both a grimace-smile. "Is she okay?" he questions of the green, glancing only then towards J'en. His mouth tightens at the cursing, but he doesn't seem surprised by it.

Cinni leans against Ysleth, one arm up over her head wrapped around the little dragon's shamrock green neck. She nods emphatically, "We're fine now. I am sorry about that. Our first real disagreement. I'm so glad he is better, now."

Really, all that cursing lasts all of about a second or two, just long enough for J'en to realize that with the power washer off he was really loud in comparison. Clamping his mouth shut, he looks from bronzeling to greenling and back again, before checking up on Leketh. No one else could hear him, but J'en sure could, and his whining and name calling (mostly things like 'meanie-face' and 'joy-killer') setting his teeth on edge. Breathing, it was all about breathing, breathing and hacking away at a dragon's weight in firelogs. But that was later. This was now. "I was gunna start visualization trainin' today," he says in a voice raised in nothing but volume to carry, it was no less flat, but only after the two of his three have checked in with one another. Everyone is good. Goooood. Moving. On. "But I think instead we're gunna tork on control…so there ain't no more explodin' dragon ass an' silent screams into the void…" That's right, he's looking at them both. In turn. Leketh snorts and turns his head away, earning him a long and silent stare. Oh boy.

YOU MEANIE-FACE J'EN YOU D: "Yes sir," Xh'vyr says after a moment, for J'en's commentary on control. "Can I get him cleaned up first?" Someone desperately needs to feel clean after that, evidently, and it's not JUST Xh'vyr. The bronze lifts his head finally, a subtle perking up from his previous demeanor. Xh'vyr shifts his weight toward the weyrling pools, ready for J'en's allowance of leave, but flicks a small smile towards Cinni and Ysleth during the rearrangement of weight and limbs.

One thing that J'en could say right off the bat, this lot was a whole more respectful than the last few that he'd encountered, given he was an actual knotted weyrlingmaster of the assistant variety this time around, probably helped. Too calm, too centered, J'en nods briskly once at Xh'vyr as he requests to have the time to clean up Aeldhiyth, but he was pointedly not looking at him anymore."Fine, dun't dawdle," he exhales, turning towards Ysleth and Cinni. "While we're waitin', 'ow 'bout some laps 'round the courtyard." Yeah, that wasn't a request. Leketh, dear sweet Leketh, he rumbles and whatever that meant sends the golden eyed man bristling. "Leketh, come 'ere. Come. 'ere!" Finger pointed down at the cobble stone beneath his feet. And the day had started out so…full of promise.

"Laps?" the Cinni says indiginently. "I…what? Really?"

J'en stares that stare of 'YES. REALLY' of deadpanness.

There is a bright note of amusement from behind her as Cinni pushes off of Ysleth and in utter disbelief begins to jog around the yard.


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