Fort Weyr - Training Complex
The remnants of a historic collapse are apparent here, as the slope face of the bowl has a predominant downward curvature. It's likely long ago, that a cavern larger than any Fort currently has was where the training complex currently is. A probable cave in triggered a fissure on the bowl wall which lead to a great chunk of it dislodging, thus creating the rounded slope.

Yet, many centuries later, all that remains to give evidence is the pocket made into the bowl wall. It seems that the inhabitants of Fort Weyr have made best of the created space. Rock on the ground proper has long since cleared, but pebbles and loose shale are constantly underfoot. Still, the sprig of some green leafed vegetation isn't too out of the ordinary in these parts, as long as it doesn't get trampled by the comings and goings.

It's clear that this area has been designated for the training of young minds, whether human or dragon. Surrounded by rock on all side, it's like a personal weyr bowl for the youngsters to minimize distraction and danger. The candidate barracks have been built across from the Weyrling barracks, so that one group can educate the next. Finally, placed in the center of the two entrances of the opposing barracks, near the rock face, is a statue with a memorial plaque.


After nearly a month of work, So'l and Sharuth have almost gotten their visualization skills down to an art form. They've spent the morning hours demonstrating them for one of the Assistant Weyrling Masters, So'l having been blindfolded while Sharuth guided him around a series of obstacles laid out. Having shown just how they've come as of late, the pair have been given some time off this afternoon to just enjoy the day. So in the still weak sunshine of spring beginnings, the brawny young weyrling and his bronze - now over five meters long! - relax on the grounds. Sharuth is curled up in a molten lump of metallic sheen while So'l leans back against him, staring up at the sky.

"I think he was impressed, Sharuth," So'l says, referring to the Assistant Weyrling Master. "We - well, me - really struggled behind the other weyrlings on that particular exercise. Not anymore though, eh?" he grins.

It had been an exhausting month too. Physically and mentally. But every ache and pain, every exhausted moment, served only as further incentive. It only drove him harder, caused him to redouble his efforts. He had no idea that an exercise, one with such a seemingly simple concept, would prove so difficult for them. But Sharuth was a dragon determined not to show his concerns, not to show his weariness. He had been confident and sure for the new rider at his side, and when the task was done, had made no secret of his exuberance. His muzzle still curled upward pleasantly with the memory of that moment, and he shifted his large bulk on the ground with a touch of embarrassment as he recalled the roar of triumph he had let loose at the trials conclusion. Well. Almost a roar. A whelp of thing, it had come out a hollow and shallow thing, paling in comparison to the larger Bronze and Browns he idolized. Though that chaffed, satisfaction radiated from him still. «No,» His thoughts touched So’l's with a still lingering hint of that radiance, «Not anymore.» Ever concerned, ever protective, one of his large wings unfurls, stretching out not to block the sun, but at least provide So’l with some comforting shade.

Even though spring is a ways off, winter is still here to some degree. Snow rests here and there, though a good amount of it has melted away showing some that warmer weather is right around the corner. Niumdreoth soars downwards upon large stretched out wings until he lands off to the side far away from anyone, or anything for that matter. His wings flutter and shake before tucking in close to his sides while his tail slowly sways and flicks. A low rumble of greeting offered to the ones that are out and about, though his swirling gaze is settled upon Sharuth. « Afternoon Sharuth! » Is called out in a friendly tone, mindscene taking on a wintery night, fresh snow falling across the tall pines.

Abigail isn't actually with the brown, at least at first, the wingsecond is walking on towards the training grounds with a large silvery furred canine following at her side. She has her hands tucked away into her thick coat, which still does little to hide her pregnancy, especially now. Her pale gaze drifts over the area before she soon catches sight of her dragon, So'l and Sharuth. "Should have figured he would wander here." She murmurs to herself with an amused tone.

As the wing is raised as shade, So'l grins even wider and settles into Sharuth's embrace. "That is nice, but if your wing tires, be sure to lower it, alright?" he asks, reaching up to pat the bronze's hide affectionately. While they've also been working on stretching and wing flaps and flares - to strengthen the wings for the coming flights in the next few months - those wings are still fragile things in need of attention and care. "And we both have much to be proud of," So'l says, changing the subject and leaning back even more. "We-" He's interrupted as the majestic sight that is Niumdreoth comes in for a landing, the brown near enough to turn and see Sharuth. Waving at Nium, the weyrling looks for Abigail upon his neck but sees no such rider. When she approaches with her hound, however, he's grinning up and stands. "Abigail! It's so good to see you," he nods, suddenly wishing there was a comfortable place for her to sit. "Escaped your do-gooders, have you?"

Sharuth is far too pleased with himself to dwell in the darkness of a cold winter's night. The landscape that is returned takes on a subtle shift, drawing light from where it can in the presence of flickering fireflies, casting a warm glow against the grass and trees. In fact, against all rhyme or reason, wherever they seem to settle and whatever surface their tiny light touches, the snow and ice upon it melts just a little bit. «Afternoon!» The enthusiasm with which his response comes is slightly at war with the warm lethargy in which he and So’l have found themselves. But the bronze does shift a little, perhaps disrupting his rider's attempts at becoming even more comfortable, in order to present a more striking figure for the recently arrived brown. Eager to impress perhaps? Or just not wanting to seem lazy. «We have been given a day of rest,» he endeavors to explain in a hurry before attempting to change the subject. «Did you enjoy your flight?» Sharuth's muzzle lifts then, long neck craning and head tilting toward Niumdreoth's angle of descent. Barely hatched and already there is a longing within him, a nearly palpable thing, to feel the wind under his wings, to climb and reach toward the sun.

"Hello So'l, Sharuth. For the moment at least." Abigail offers with an amused tone, a slight shake of her head seen at the thought as she casts a glance over her shoulder. "Knowing my luck there be manning a search soon enough." This said with a joking tone while she looks back to So'l a soft smile seen. "How have ye two been doing So'l?" Which really she most likely already knows the answer to such a thing. As for being comfortable, she doesn't find many such places to help her actually feel comfortable as of late. The large canine pauses once her owner does and soon settles back upon its haunches, tail flicking and curling at her side.

Niumdreoth's mind is a constant winter night, a forest stretching wide and the edges never found, but still he often lets other 'play' and add to the night if they so wish it. While the snow and ice melt slightly the winter still remains. « Good! Rest days are good to have. » As for impressing, well that was one when this brown met the bronze some time back. « Very much so.. You and your will be able to enjoy it soon enough though. » The large brown turns moving towards the younger dragon's side, head lowering with a swirl of his eyes caught. « Tell me.. What have you learned? » He is curiously eager to see where the weyrlings are it would seem in their lessons.

Smirking at Sharuth's attempts to be a bit more impressive, the weyrling thinks, 'He already likes you, Sharuth. Not to worry.' He sends along feelings of encouragement as well, hoping his bronze will continue to develop a strong friendship with Niumdreoth. To Abigail, So'l smirks and says, "I'm surprised they haven't sent a firelizard after you, at the very least," he laughs, trying to make light of her situation - an overprotective wing wanting to keep their Wingsecond from hurting herself. "We've been really good, thank you. Niumdreoth gave Shar some excellent advice when last we saw you," he explains, "and we sort of make a breakthrough with visualization!" So'l is grinning at this, a hand reaching out to lovingly pat Sharuth's side again. "We're much better at it now."

Sharuth's own thoughts are much an echo of his rider's at first as he adds with a feeling of emphasis, «We are now able to visualize very well. We're able to see what the other wants us to, and made it through the maze without difficulty.» Such is the source of his pride. The source of those peristant fireflies that continue to hover in the winter night. Would that it could, a sun might try to press itself at the horizon, to hint at a coming dawn. But the young dragon's will is not so strong as the brown's, and it is not his mindscape to shape. Still, the sensation of it is there, as is the emotion behind it. «We've also worked on other things.» Things that apparently make the bronze slightly uncomfortable to speak of perhaps? Some of them, well… they're kind of private things. «BathingOilingFeedingWalking,» all come out in a hurry meant to pass them by inconsequentially, though one particular part of the physiological process that they've had to come to terms with is omitted. Not very glorious at all is that bodily function, but Sharuth moves on, and for the sake of the brown he stretches his wings, flexing them to full span for a moment and holding them there til they tremble. «We've also been working on strengthening these.» The strain can be felt even mentally, but so can the determination that keeps them there until they at last fall back with a huff of breath from his muzzle.

Abigail chuckles softly at the thought. "I wouldn't put it past them actually." At the thought of a firelizard following her she glances around to see if there may be one hovering. She may be on the tired side but perhaps she can still escape such things. At the rest she smiles, a nod seen. "I'm glad to hear that. Niumdreoth was hoping the advice he gave would come in hand so to speak. Niumdreoth wanted to come visit him" There is a slight pause as if perhaps she wants to say something else though she holds it back for now. A curious glance is sent towards the bronze once more. "His gotten big." Though all young dragons do tend to grow rather quickly so this shouldn't be a real surprise.

Niumdreoth allows the sun to creep up somewhat, he did allow it before when he was in a conversation with Sharuth. So while the sun creeps ever upwards into the night sky to allow 'dawn' to sweep in the night lightens, stars twinkle until there just a fight glow dot upon the horizon, still present and never truly leaving. « Good! » This is sent to the talk on the maze, glad to hear that both young dragon and rider did well. As for the rest, well it is only part of things for weyrlings and he won't comment on any of it. A soft croon escapes the brown as he lowers to a crouch, tail slowly swaying and then curl at his sides while he opens his wings to slowly stretch them upwards and then back down a few times as if showing off a way for the young bronze to practice. Scars are caught across the right wing at the slow stretching movements. « Remember, slow, nothing to quick. If you feel tired or your wings hurt then stop and rest or there could be damage done that would cause you to not be able to join in lessons if you was to harm yourself. »

"Yes he has," So'l nods in agreement, his eyes sweeping over the bronze. "F'rari thinks Sharuth is going to be one of the biggest bronzes he's ever seen. I'm not sure about," the weyrling shrugs, "and to be honest, being big isn't that important anyway." But Sharuth can feel - somewhere deep inside So'l's heart, in a place where only the bronze is welcome - that this is not entirely true. There is a flash of pride in the notion that Sharuth will be very, very big and strong and the rider-to-be doesn't voice it to Abigail, the bronze can no doubt feel it anyway. "So Niumdreoth wanted to visit Sharuth? That's great!" So'l beams, very happy the two dragons are developing such a friendship. "You're a good friend, Abigail," he smiles widely, "and I'm hoping we'll all spend a lot of time together once we're free to travel. Especially to those special foresty spots you mentioned?" He senses that she may have wanted to say more but doesn't press; that's not his way. He does wonder, though…

Sage wisdom wars with youthful impatience, but the words of Niumdreoth carry with them the weight of respect and admiration felt within the bronze. So they find purchase, and sink home. Sharuth bows his head briefly in both acceptance and gratitude for the tutelage and, after a few more moments of rest, attempts to mimic the very same exercise. He meets with only mild success, given that he'd just been straining them. But despite the snorts of air from his nostrils and the buffs of exertion from his muzzle that accompany the strain and swirl the earth in front of them, he seems satisfied. «I will be careful,» he assures at last, somewhat sheepish in his response given that he at least had to attempt it right then and there. He's grateful for the admittance of the sun as well, though, if given control, keeps it only at the far horizon of the brown's own private world, letting the moon and stars still linger as the black of night fades to a rich blue and hints at a dawn to come. For that is the essence of Sharuth's being right now. One of expectation. The glory isn't here yet. It's there, out in the distance, yet to be reached, still to be striven for. Thoughts of such wonders though are abruptly interrupted though, and his attention shifts, focusing squarely on the scars that mar the other dragon's form. «How did you get those?» The question comes suddenly, swiftly, and maybe even a little improperly. But there is true concern within his thoughts.

Niumdreoth has plenty of wisdom to offer, in a sense at least. He often attempts to help others in any manner that he can. At the bow from the younger bronze he seems amused and offers a slight bow back of his head. « Very good. I know you shall be careful. » If not, well he shall not go there. Niumdreoth does not mind allowing the bronze to have some control of the shared link they have now with the scene. The rich blues of dawn are hit with soft waves of colors, pinks and green slowly rolling through. The question makes the brown pause, a tilt of his head seen and he rumbles out faintly not seeming to have problem with the question. « A bronze hit me during a flight The flight for your clutch actually. » In a sense these two are somewhat linked in that sense. That flight nearly ended the large brown, though luck was on his side with help from another brown.

Abigail chuckles and nods. "Well I can see why he would think such a thing. Time will tell, aye?" This questioned with an amused tone before she nods. "Aye that he did I do try me best, it was a nice chance to get out as well and visiting friends is never a bad thing." She nods to the talk of traveling. "Of course. I hope so as well when ye lot are allowed. By then, should be easier for me to do such things anyway." This said with an amused tone. As for what else she wanted to say, well she isn't about to bring it up unless there is poking from someone on the subject. The conversation between the dragons is caught, and Abbey sends a glance towards Niumdreoth, a slight frown seen as she doesn't really enjoy the night bring brought up. Though it would explain why she is in the position she is in now as well.

So'l, too, is following the conversation between Sharuth and Niumdreoth - well, that which the bronze chooses to relay, anyway - and looks a bit sad as mention of the brown's injuries takes place. He remembers how worried Kimmila, Th'ero, and Abigail were and the thought now has him worried about his /own/ dragon getting mortally injured someday. It's a dark place he'd rather avoid so as conversation continues with Abigail, he says, "Absolutely." So'l nods then, knowing that walking around pregnant - much less riding and adventuring in the wilds - must be a somewhat difficult task at the moment. When Abigail again fails to say whatever it was she wanted to say, the weyrling debates whether he should encourage her or not. He doesn't like to push people but sometimes, emotions and nerves get in the way of speaking what's on the mind and so…taking a page from Sharuth's book, he'll nudge once the quiet stretches on. "What is it, Abigail?" So'l asks, tentatively but with warmth and a tone that's encouraging.

He's heard of The Flight already, and for a moment he is lost in the imagining of it. Of so many taking to the skies, of the creation of HIS clutch! There is a sense of awe around the young bronze right now… a wonder that's poised right on the edge of something. Something a bit darker. Confusion lurks on the edge of that precipice, and concern threatens to pull him over it. His own wings have been forgotten, and for the moment hang exhausted at his side, limply draped to the ground. «He hit you?» The words come at last, and they come with a sense of incredulousness. The sun in the world they share flares up suddenly, righteous and ready to leap to the defense of this brown who has sought him out, who has helped him, guided him. That another would do something so… careless… or so… violent to one he has come to care for? For a moment, for a very brief moment, Sharuth's eyes swirl, and anger colors them. «Why?» he demands with all the abrupt directness of youth, and adds a moment later, «Who?»

Abigail isn't known for sharing what is on her mind that much, she tends to keep to herself about her troubles, problems, or thoughts on certain things. As the conversation continues between the pair there is a pause while she eyes Niumdreoth to try and get the subject changed, which it /needs/ to be changed. If not for Sharuth then for herself, she still has nightmares dealing with that day and doesn't need the memories to haunt her at the moment. Her pale gaze flicks back to So'l as the question pulls her back to the present. "What Is what?" She questions curious. The brownrider isn't sure if he means the conversation at hand between the dragon or what she failed to mention.

Niumdreoth is quiet, collecting his thoughts as it were. The night sky darkens slightly within his mind, the colors fading a bit with a faint snow starting to fall. « It was an accident. You will learn about flights in due time. » A soft rumble escapes the brown, his head lowering and he leans out to nose at the bronze. « Anger does not suit you, such things are best not thought of. Understand? When you are older we can speak on it more. » Such thoughts should not be brought up to a young dragon. « So, tell me Have they showed what 'sheep' are? » Amusement is seen while his eyes swirl light colors, a rich warble heard as well. Sheep are fun to him, amusing things, quick things, but still fun things.

The weyrling had been about to suggest a similar change of topic - Sharuth's feelings burning bright in his mind - when Abigail apparently beats him to the punch. She's right; young dragons are very easily influenced by matters they're not ready for and So'l already predicts there will be many, /many/ questions during the evening oiling of Sharuth's beautiful bronze hide. As the topic turns to sheep - which amuses So'l to no end - the brawny young man fixes Abigail with a gaze that makes his meaning plain. And if not, his words will even further clarify. "I got the feeling…a few moments ago," he explains, "that there was something else you wanted to say?" His smile is still warm, his tone still encouraging.

Sharuth is not so easily led astray though. The thick darkness of the changing mindscape envelopes him and captures his attention in a way that cannot be distracted by idle conversation. His sun is just a thin sliver at the horizon, and far too weak a thing to halt the coming snow. Even the fireflies struggle against it, some fizzling out beneath the thick fall of white flakes. He rests there, watching them struggle for life, watching them try to fend off the cold. From one to the other he looks, searching for a question that he finds at last. «Do dragons often hurt other dragons?» At least Niumdreoth has managed to quell the anger. In fact, the touch of their minds is met now with a slight feeling of shame for the reproach. Not that he can shake it completely, but at least now it is mostly replaced by curiosity. Because, truthfully, it is a concept he had never considered before. Dragons attacking other dragons. Dragons fighting other dragons. Play is one thing. This? This is something else, something the young bronze finds all too disturbing.

Abigail gaze flicks back towards the pair of dragons to watch and make sure that the anger that seemed to be forming is indeed put out, well to some degree. As for So'l she has been in his shoes before dealing with the questions and she is sorry that it happened. Still young dragons will ask questions, and answers are not always helpful. The question from So'l catches her attention and she sends a curious glance back to him, seeming for a moment unsure what to say on the matter. "Ah…" Is heard, something more use being heard from her brother then herself. She lifts her hand to push a few strands of red curly hair back. "I…" Pause. "I suppose Niumdreoth wasn't the only one that wanted to come for a visit to see someone." There, she sort of said what she was thinking in a manner at least. Though perhaps to just add more confusion to poor So'l in the end.

The question from Sharuth catches Niumdreoth by surprise and he is taking back for a way to answer it. The snow lessens, and then stops, the wintery night slipping closer to what dawn would look like to allow the fireflies that struggle some peace to go back to buzzing around it seems. « No. Dragons do not hurt other dragons unless it is by accident. During flights accidents happen, and this was an accident I assure you Sharuth. » His mindvoice is soft, attempting to show that the younger dragon has nothing to feel shameful over asking such questions. « Dragons do not attack dragons, and dragons do not attack people. I do promise to explain it later to you. » It is a promise he can keep thanks to his rider not able to move full past it so it is a memory that he seems able to hold onto.

So'l can sense Sharuth's inner turmoil over this topic but also knows that Niumdreoth - in the way a young weyrling simply /cannot/ reassure - is more suited to quelling this particular concern. Even so, he'll send along reassurances of his own as the brown explains that dragons do /not/ purposefully harm other dragons. 'When you learn about mating flights, Shar,' So'l thinks to his bronze, 'you'll learn that the urge to mate often overrides higher sense. That's why it's so /important/ for dragon and rider to grow close. So that we can aid each other when sense fails us,' he smiles, the commentary entirely silent except in Sharuth's mind. Then Abigail is speaking and as she pushes back that lock of hair, admitting her own motive in the visit, the weyrling's tone becomes a bit teasing. "Oh? Well, I'm sure M'icha is around somewhere. If I get hit with that cane one more time," he smirks, trailing off and retaining eye contact, "or wait? Did you mean someone else?" Smirk x2.

He is not entirely convinced. Were it so simple a thing as an accident, would the reaction have been so visceral? Would the night have grown so dark, the cold so all encompassing? Maybe it was, and it was just the near tragedy of that day that brought such emotions to the surface. Whatever the reason, Sharuth seems finally at last able to let it rest. But his mind is a blur, because for a moment, before it was declared an accident, he had considered what seemed to be the impossible and he had been floored by the revelation. That a dragon might willfully and intentionally harm another. «Has…» Another question had been poised, ready to launch, but when he turned his head to stare more directly up at the larger brown, he found a presence and countenance that deterred further curiosity. Not impolitely, and the promise of future explanations likely mollified him well and truly at last. «I…» he begins, still trying to shake himself from the dark reverie. When So’l reaches out to him, it's the reminder of the young rider's presence, the sensation of the bond that they share, even more than the words that helps him find his voice again. «Sorry.» he says to both of them. «But… that is good,» he decides at last. «Good that dragons do not harm other dragons.» He cannot express why he is so certain of this. But he knows it to be true, the rumble of his thoughts distant and contemplative. «And I am glad that you are alright now.» This is formed with far more certainty and a renewed spark of his usual radiant demeanor. «So that you could be such a good teacher and friend to me.»

Abigail can only hope that Niumdreoth is able to help reassure the young dragon over such things, because really it should have never been brought up during this stage of things. As for the comments from So'l she merely peers at him, a brow lifting and she seems amused. "He does hit rather hard doesn't he?" M'icha didn't spar anyone from a hard whack if he felt they needed it. As for the rest she pauses. "How hard did he hit ye? Also.. As much fun as I have speaking with M'icha, especially when he brings up all my mistakes I did not come to see him." Pointed look is thus sent to So'l over such the matter of whom.

« You will understand such things at a later time I do promise this Sharuth. » The large brown offers with a soft tone, a light croon escaping him. As for the brown's mind turning so dark and cold it was a fed back from thoughts from his rider on that night, that affected him as well once he recalls little sparks of memories from it. « There is no need for you to be sorry. I do not wish to fill your mind with such worries. You are young, you are learning, you must worry on other matters. Understand? » As the radiant demeanor appears once more a soft trumpet escapes Nium. « I'm glad to be such a thing for you Sharuth. You are a good friend to me as well. »

So'l feels his bronze calming - and no doubt preparing questions to barrage him with later (which he'll gladly answer!) - and settles in for a snarky exchange with the brownrider. "Not too hard," he admits, rubbing his right elbow as if to infer a smack there. "Slow learners get the quick stick," So'l smirks, "but it's an effective means of motivation." He laughs nervously then, the momentary humor shielding them both from true motive fading. Abigail's comments that she came to see someone else - and her pointed look directly at /him/ — sets So'l smiling hesitantly. "I…see," he chuckles, "well, I'm very glad you did. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the other weyrlings' company but they're all a bit…young," he adds, hoping his meaning might be clear without further explanation.

The light of the mindscape glows, and Sharuth basks in its warmth as the praise comes from Niumdreoth. But even as his pleasure at it makes itself known, the bronze himself turns bashful, embarassed. His head tilts and turns away to conceal the joy that swirls in his eyes and the thoughts he shares are self-deprecating. «I'm a pest,» he laughs mentally, «Poking my muzzle where it shouldn't be. Always having to KNOW. Impatient,» the words are a grin now, and the night begins to fade, the fireflies flourishing once again and starting to pale to the growing light of day. For a moment, only the moon remains, a pale silhouette in the sky. «Rash, Overeager…» The descriptives trail off for a bit before he finally adds a quiet, «Thank you,» in a tone far more sincere than his playful pokes at himself. For such a young dragon to have such strong and noble friend. It humbles him. «I will try not to worry. It's just hard to not want to see the whole tapestry, rather than just the small piece they've got me stuck looking at right now.» At last he turns back to look at the brown, seeking understanding.

Abigail chuckles softly and shrugs a moment. "True." This said with a soft tone while her gaze drifts off. she's not one for this sort of talk.. In the end he asked and she gave the answer. Now she is making the pointed look too well not look at him. "Of course.. A bit how it was when I was a weyrling. D'ani was the oldest, then the rest of us I suppose." She pauses in thought glad for something else to let her mind wander to. "I know I'm older then Harmony at least." If she caught the meaning well, she isn't linger on it at least.

Niumdreoth is quiet while his mindscape continues letting the warmth take over a bit more, it seems to help calm the bronze so he is alright with the way it is going for the moment. « You are not a pest Sharuth. You are a young dragon that has questions.. I was just as a pest at your age, and overeager… » He still is overeager at times with certain things. A soft rumble escapes him, one that could be consider a laugh before another soft nosing is sent to Sharuth. « You will see the whole tapestry soon enough. Given time. Small bits and pieces here and there will merely keep you hungry until you can see it all. »

The weyrling smiles back, glad Abigail can relate but not pushing things any further. So'l is very happy to see her and he'll leave it at that. "D'ani, eh? I hadn't realized you two had been weyrlings together." Despite being a dragonrider-to-be now - and rather in the thick of things weyrwise because of it - there was a time when So'l was Solan, a young woodcrafter from Lemos Hold who knew hardly anything about weyr life and dragonriders. Though he'd come to Fort less than half a turn ago, it all seems like multiple lifetimes ago now. "What was he like? As a weyrling?" Now it's So'l's turn to barrage with questions, it seems.

Sharuth is thankful to share such tendencies with the brown. «Patience is something So'l is helping me to learn. I struggle,» he admits, his laughter rolling through the mental link as flashes of morning birdsong amidst the pines. The bronze turns to regard Abigail then, his eyes whirling with affection for the woman that's both his own /and/ his rider's. Looking her over thoroughly, his head swivels on his graceful neck to point towards Niumdreoth once more. «Will her baby come soon? She looks uncomfortable.»

So'l, Sharuth, Abigail, and Niumdreoth are gathered on the far side of the bowl, enjoying the afternoon sunshine — wan though it is — and talking as other weyrling pairs perform their exercises.

Abigail sends a curious glance back to So'l, a slight nod seen and she smiles a moment. "Inri as well." Which is the clutch parents to little… no large Sharuth over thar. There was a time that Abbey was in the same boat as So'l, even though she lived at Fort Hold her parents was rather against the whole going to the Weyr bit, she knew some from being in the guard but not enough until she actually came to the weyr itself. "D'ani…?" There is a slight pause at the thought, a faint chuckle escapes her. "He was alright. Ye should ask him about 'saving the damsel' comment sometime. It might be amusing from his point of view. I'll fully admit that I didn't spend that much time with D'ani. He’s a good man though." Though back to the whole being happy to see her? She's glad to know that even if it is in a roundabout way. Even though Abbey is holding her own rather well Sharuth is right on her being uncomfortable, she's just very good at hiding things at times, like now.

Niumdreoth nods, at this, his gaze a swirl for a few moments. « Patience will come in time, do not worry on that. » Faint waves of pink and green flash across the night sky with the amusement from the brown. « You young one's always eager to grow up. » At the question on his rider the brown looks towards her a moment, a slight bit of worry slipping into the mind ink. « Hopefully soon. » Not that he presses on with the reason why.

Within the small cluster of weyrlings performing exercises is Anique and Typriaeth. Finished when Typriaeth wearies a bit the pair is sent off down the bowl to simply walk and relax. Eventually they near to where So'l and Abigail and their life mates are at, Anique's hand lifting in a wave towards the small group. "Hey!" she waves. "Abigail, So'l. How does the day find you?" Typriaeth warbles a tired greeting towards the bronze weyrling and older brown.

With a laugh, So'l says, "I'll have to ask him about that, then. I have to say," the weyrling starts, "it's so /nice/ to talk to someone on the outside." He makes it sound like a prison though, honestly, that's not how he feels. "Sometimes we get caught up in what we're doing here and it gets a little…isolating," he notes. Anique and Typriaeth's approach is noted and he turns then, offering the pair a wave. "Long morning, eh? We're good here. Seems like we got visualization down pretty well. Now we're just relaxing a little."

Sharuth nods to Niumdreoth, «I will do my best to be patient with growing up, too,» he offers before bugling a hello to Typriaeth.

Abigail chuckles softly and nods. "I'll be curious to see how he explains it to ye." So yes she'll be asking to see if he does indeed ask D'ani of such matters. At the rest she smiles while glancing to So'l. "It seems like that know, but it'll go by quickly. Anyway… I can always try and get a newspaper baked into a cake and bring it to ye so ye all know how it is on the 'outside'." A grin see while she says that. Hearing Anique she looks over a smile and wave seen. "Hello Anique, doing well and yerself?" A firelizard appears between and flutters down to land upon the brownrider's shoulder, which makes her sigh a touch and she sends a curious glance to the brown lizard which only warbles out. She's actually a bit glad to see it at the moment as she's tired, achy and feeling a bit off and instead of leaving on her own needed something to give her a reason. Not like she doesn't have a good one already mind you. "Seems they finally found me." A soft chuckle heard, So'l may be able to pick up that she seems more tired now then at the start of this conversation. "I should get going, it was good ta see ye So'l, Anique. Hope ye lot have good lessons." A slight wave is seen as she turns to leave, the silvery canine following at her side.

Niumdreoth rumbles a warm greeting to Typriaeth. « Hello Typriaeth.. Good lessons? » A nod is seen as he hears Sharuth and he gives the bronze a nosing before there is the talk of his rider leave. « I must go, rest well young ones. » His not going to stay far from his rider at the moment it would seem. The two are soon gone from the training grounds.

« Good lesson! » Typriaeth singsongs to the departing brown. His rider gets an easy smile and wave from Anique. "Hi and bye, Abigail! Stay safe." to So'l she looks to and grins. "That's good news then that you two have the visualization down pat!"

So'l watches Abigail go, sad she must depart but also very happy she came by to visit. As dragon and rider make their way out of the bowl, he turns back to Anique and her beautiful green. "Yes! We've been drilling it a lot since the other day. Sharuth led me through an obstacle course this morning," he says proudly, his tone full of warmth and enthusiasm. The bronze at his side - now almost 17 meters in length - nudges So'l gently and yawns. «I am tired. Can we nap before oiling?» So'l pats the dragon affectionately and says, to Anique, "I think we're going to catch a nap while we can. It was good to see you both," he says, smiling at Typriaeth as well as Anique. Together, they make their way into the barracks.