Who F'inn, K'zre, Aignes, Kaetryn
What New Weyrlings post hatching.
When Spring.
Where Fort Weyr, Weyrling Barracks


Fort Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
The rounded ceiling of this set of barracks is high enough to accomodate growing dragons. Lining the walls lengthwise are sets of stone couches and cots for their riders. At one end of the room are cabinets holding supplies for bathing and oiling young dragons, as well as the weyrling manuals. Against the opposite wall is a table with scraps of leather and leather-working tools. Tacked up on the wall is a diagram of riding straps.

For the first dragon to find her lifemate, one might expect that Czarduinath to be the first dragon to be finished gorging herself. And they would be wrong. It won't take a lot of meat to fill the smallest green up, but it will take a lot of time to find just the right pieces and by this point, Aignes looks more than a little frazzled as she keeps having to dig through to find just the right sized meat chunk only to be met with… « Now Aignes, that one will never do. It's much too big. Can't have meat chunks getting stuck in my teeth. »

F'inn has it easy, Nymionth is very matter of fact when it comes to eating. It is in the midst of feeding the little bronze another chunk of bloody meat that he glances toward the frazzled Aignes looking more then a little concerned. "Do you need a knife, Aignes? I could cut it up for you?" In the wake of the words, he looks back at Nym and smiles wryly. "I know, you're right, that's why I asked." For his part, Nymionth pauses in his own eating, his head swinging around to regard Czarduinath somberly. «You need to go gently with your lifemate, Czarduinath.»

Was it really only a few hours (minutes?) ago that Kez was just… Kez? And now he is K'zre, and there's a green bounding at his heels. And stumbling over her feet, and creeling in alternate tones of joy and dismay because ow, « Walking is harrrrrrrd! Carry me! » Thankfully, distraction comes in the form of « FOOD! » Even if Yasminath's nose is still firmly pressed into K'zre's side and disinclined to dislodge anytime soon. At least he's walking. And even talking. Sort of. "Where…?" Oh hey Aignes. Hey F'inn.

« Like, chill. Food is food is wonderful food. » That advice, delivered in a lazy tenor, could only be coming from Szorvilkyth. The lanky brown hatchling is tucked into his own tub of meat, maw open as he eagerly accepts chunk after chunk of thick, red, bloody deliciousness with no signs of slowing, much less stopping. In a bit of a haze, Kaetryn's movements have become almost mechanical in nature - reach in, grab, deposit. Reach in, grab, deposit. « Just take it easy and enjoy the service. Man, this is the life, » he sighs, eliciting a sour glance from his lifemate before she reluctantly chuckles.

« My lifemate needs to get this right. It's for her own good, after all. » And more importantly, Czarduinath's own good and so those bright sequins flash just a bit brighter towards nearly painful levels as she huffs her impatience at both her brothers. « Oh, you'll eat anything, Szorvilkyth. You should have some standards. » But even so, the green does begin to accept slightly larger chunks of meat, even if that means she has to do something as unslightly as chewing. As for Aignes, she blinks as the topic of a knife is brought up. "I… yes." In the post-Impression haze, she may have forgotten that sharp cutting objects even existed, but she'll gladly take one if F'inn's offering. "You can share my bucket. I think she's slowing down now." There have been a lot more rejected pieces lately than accepted meat chunks anyways.

F'inn grins as K'zre and Yasminath come in, a warm laugh spilling past his lips at the sight of the little green stumbling at his heels. "There," he notes with a nod toward the barrels of meat arranged near the couches. "You might have to break up some of the chunks for her." Slanting a glance over at Kaetryn, his smile broadens, pale brows rising and falling in a slow twitch. "You were right," he states with an easy wink. Cause really? She was right, so. At Czarduinath's response, Nymionth's tail give a slow lash across the floor, his tones quietly firm. «Your lifemate needs time and patience to learn to do it right, being overly critical only creates stress.» When Czarduinath sees it his way, Nymionth chuffs his satisfaction, crooning a welcome to Yasminath. Meanwhile, Finn has stepped away to snag a knife and hands it to Aignes, hilt first, with an easy smile.

« Food is food is wonderful! Fooooooood! » agrees Yasminath in sheer joy. « I want some food. Can we get some food? » She knows she'll get food, but there's still a wistful tone to that tinkling voice. "Thank you," comes for F'inn's assistance in the matter, and then a grateful look to Aignes for her offer. While he might just look a little punch-drunk, K'zre does manage to make his way over to collapse in a heap near the weaver-turned-weyrling. "Cut it?" blink-blink. "I'll just pick out tiny pieces…" His hands are kinda shaking so… maybe no sharp objects. And Yasminath? She does not have a problem chewing. Or won't, once she figures out what chewing is. « Hi Czarduinath! » Sniff-sniff. « Why is it red? »

Snorting, Szorvilkyth pauses in his eating to cast a tolerant glance at his perfectionist sister. « Like, it all goes in the same place, y'know? As long as it smells good, you should eat it. » And, obviously, this meat smells good. Unlike the green, he still shows no signs of slowing down, and Kaetryn shoves away one empty tub to grab a second, glancing at it uncertainly. "Are - are you sure you're not full?" At F'inn's comment, she swivels her head to stare at him blankly, clearly not in any mental place to make the connection between his comment and her earlier prediction. Still - "Uhm. That's a good thing, right?" Szorvy certainly thinks so - at least where another sister is concerned, as he pauses in his eating to peer at Yasminath. « Food! » he agrees cheerfully, taking another chunk from his someday-rider.

Literally right as Aignes is accepting that knife from F'inn, Czarduinath is letting out a pleasant little croon to her sister. « Yasminath, you must be famished. Come have this. You need it more than me. It's red because it's meat. » And with a nudge of her snout, the bucket will be mostly moved in the other green's direction. Good thing she was practically right there or else meat would be spilling everwhere. Cue more blinking from Aignes as she's now holding an un-needed knife, and trying to pass back to F'inn. "I think she's done." Which is echoed by a tiny squeak of a yawn that escapes from Czarduinath's maw. « Oh my. » With food taken care off, this dragonet's off to find the perfect nap spot. Which definitely isn't those lonely couches. She'll just help herself to Nymionth's side, curling up next to bronze. « I think you make the perfect pillow. »

"A very good thing," Finn agrees. Particularly since her being right ended with him walking off with Nymionth. The thought has Nymionth tucking his head into Finn's belly, one hand moving to scritch at the bronze's headknobs. Accepting the knife back, Finn chuckles quietly, even as Nymionth raises one wing to tuck over Czarduinath's back in a gesture that makes it clear that he is fine with being a pillow. «Good, nap Czarduinath, I'll watch over you.» Cause that is what Nymionth does. Glancing toward K'zre and Yasminath, Finn tilts his head, the knife tucked into the sheath on his belt. "If you need it, let me know? How you holding up?"

dismay Yasminath. But thankfully K'zre is quick about putting a piece of that meat into her open mouth, which successfully distracts her from this all-important question because « It's good! » One piece, and another is soon to follow. « Good night Czarduinath! » Nom-nom-nom. "Thank you, Aignes." Even though K'zre already said it, he'll say it again. "I'm…" spinning. Out of control. Disoriented. "… Hungry. But I think that's her," he confesses, his voice going unbearably tender as the former healer's gaze lands on Yasminath. "How much do they eat?" The question comes as another chunk disappears into that open mouth, brown-eyes going first F'inn and then to Kaetryn.

"Oh, don't ask me," Kaet replies, dismayed, as Szorvilkyth has managed to make it through half of his second bucket and is showing no sign of slowing down. "I'm not sure he has an off-switch." Pass, pass, inhale - that seems to be the rhythm of this night. Then, abruptly, she offers a chunk to her lifemate and nearly drops it as she goes to release it into a maw that isn't there. Turning, she stares at the brown, who, mid-chew, has gone from awake to asleep, his last chunk of meat still half-masticated between his jaws. Hesitantly, she puts back the piece she had just removed and reaches out, shaking the brown. "Szorvy? Szorvy? Hey - wake up and finish that before you sleep!" But - no. He's zonked.

Czarduinath exudes perfect contentment now that she's full and snuggled up. Even as she's drifting off to sleep, flickers of the wondrous shows of bedazzled firelizard chorus on yellow brick roads will reach out to her siblings. With her lifemate no longer eating, Aignes turns to find the closest sink and wash that blood right out of her hands. "I'm exhausted. I think I could sleep for a whole sevenday. That was her second bucket and she didn't even make it halfway through? And didn't eat about half of the first either…" Aignes shrugs. His mileage may vary.

"Depends," Finn admits. "Nymionth didn't eat that much. Czarduinath ate a good bit, Szorvilkyth has ate at least his body weight and is still going. Which," he adds with a pointed look at Kaetryn. "Is probably not the best thing for him." Finn preaching moderation? It's shocking. "I know, Nymionth," he notes with a lopsided smile. "He says we don't want anyone getting sick or bound up." Fortunately, Szoevilkyth has stopped on his own, a fact which has both Finn and Nymionth sighing in relief. "She's fine," Finn assures. Course, Nymionth is feeding him the answers. "Get some rest? We'll wake you the moment she stirs." For his part, Nymionth is staying very still, keeping his wing snugged around Czarduinath as she snoozes.

"Two buckets." That number seems to stick in K'zre's head at least. And so it is with this in mind that he keeps offering acceptably-sized chunks to Yasminath. Acceptable by his standards. The green? Not terribly concerned and happy to eat whatever her weyrling has to offer. « mmm. I love food! » she declares, wings rustling against her back. "One and a half buckets, then," murmurs Kez. Cause yeah. No one wants to deal with angry baby-dragon tummies. A pause, and he hesitates in the next chunk before reaching out with his other hand to scratch-scratch at a bit of hide at Yasminath's back. "Here?" And even as he's scratching those itches, there's a twitching of his own skin, a roll of shoulders, a fidgeting in place. "Ugh, itchy."

"It barely made a bulge," Kaetryn points out, a bit wonderingly, as she indicates the distinct lack of food belly on the brown versus his siblings - most of whom are likely quite rounded at the moment. As her attempts to rouse the brown from his dreams of - oddly - fruits and cookies fail, she instead pries apart his jaws, taking out the half-eaten chunk and leaving it in the scrap pile. Striding back over to Szorvy, she looms above him with her hands on her hips, considering her options before she hoists him in her arms, grunting slightly with the weight of him before staggering towards their shared couch. "Don't worry," she calls over her shoulder, "I think he'll be okay. Ooof." Depositing him on the stone, she fusses with the bedding until she's certain he'll be comfortable - then collapses bonelessly at his side, all but asleep on her own feet. "Whoo. What. A. Night."

Even with the assertions that Czarduinath is fine, as soon as Aignes' hands are fully clean, she's back to the green's side. But there's nothing to do since the feeding has stopped and so she just sits next her lifemate, with a hand on her side to feel the slow, sleepy rise and fall of her breathing. "No more than one and a half buckets. They're so little." The girls are at least. Szorvilkyth and Nymionth can probably get away with eating a lot more given the size differences. "Night and morning. I think it's morning now?"

«Food is good for you in moderation,» Nymionth notes to Yasminath in warm tones. «If you eat to much, though, your tummy will hurt.» And there is no doubt he'd rather not have that happen. Turning, Finn grins as he watches Kaet, his brows twitching slowly. "You'll still need to keep an eye on it, Kaet." He will worry, despite that being completely and utterly out of his nature. He can't help it. "It has definately been a night," he agrees as he perches on the edge of Nymionth's couch. Nym immediately deposits his head in Finn's lap, crooning at the eyeridge scritches. He does, however, lean over and tug a blanket out of his trunk, passing it to Aignes without a second thought. "Morning now."

« Food is good! » repeats Yasminath, sheer delight in her voice. « In moderation. » But as she's not really interested in whatever 'moderation' means right now, she'll just keep eating. But K'zre gets it. Even if they're currently working (slowly) through their first bucket. It's interspersed with itchy-hide scratching. "Morning?" Really, Kez has lost all sense of time. It's utterly meaningless at this point. Yesterday might as well have been two turns ago. "Agreed," is echoed on the heels of F'inn's own agreement with Kaet's assessment. "I don't know if I'll be able to sleep…" He can't imagine such a thing at the moment.

"There's oil for those itchy spots as well," Aignes yawns even as she's accepting that blanket from F'inn. "Does someone bring our stuff over from the candidate barracks? Or do we get it in the morning?" Either way, the answer isn't too terribly important and she knows exactly how she's going to sleep. Still in her candidate's robe, under a borrowed blanket with Czarduinath's forearm as a pillow.

"I couldn't sleep if I tried," Finn admits as he runs his hand down the length of Nymionth's neck. Truth be told, he'll probably be gazing adoringly at Nym for a while to come. Drawing his hand back up the length of Nym's neck, he traces the headknobs before exhaling a wistful sigh. "Yes, I think you a perfect," he murmurs in warm tones. Falling silent for a few long moments, his lips twitch in a smile at Nymionth's mellow croon, the expression in his eyes impossibly warm. "She's perfect," he notes with a nod toward Yasminath. "Just pretty as a picture."

"I think we can go and get what we need tomorrow," F'inn assures Aignes in low tones.

"Yes," agrees K'zre, his voice a low murmur, "Exactly." Staring at Yasminath is definitely going to preoccupy him for a while yet. Even now, while he might fleetingly look up and around him, his attention is definitely for the little green happily accepting whatever hunk of meat he deems fit to offer her. "She's…" a shake of his head, and he clears his throat against another unwelcome swell of emotion. "I never knew it could be like this," he whispers, adoration evident in quantities that would embarrass him if he could see himself. A blink at Aignes for her mention of oil, a then between bites Kez is getting up to find what he needs. The sigh of relief comes from dragon and weyrling both as that first swipe of oil soothes itchy hide. "Do you need any?" he wonders belatedly, offering the jar to F'inn.

"Absolutely," F'inn laughs as he leans over Nymionth's head to accept the jar of oil. "Thanks. And I know.. Who knew love could be so.. huge…" Pouring oil into his palm, he works it into the itchy patches on Nymionth's hide with tender fingers. "Or shiny, or opinionated," is added in wry tones that are directed more toward Nym then K'zre. "But," he adds. "We /all/ made it and that is huge." Massive. The relief in his tone? Utterly undeniable.

"Yes." To all of that. Minus the shiny. Maybe. That green hide does get a bit of a gleam as K'zre smothers Yasminath in oil. One hand in a bucket of meat, the other smearing oil over itchy hide, Kez is a mess and he couldn't be happier. There might… no. There is definitely a smile on his face, pulling at the edges of his mouth and turning that normally oh, so serious face of his into something bright and almost carefree. It ears a croon from Yasminath, and for a moment there is an utterly gooey, star-struck stare-down between dragon and weyrling until Kez is blinking fast and shoving more meat at Yas. "We did," he agrees, sound not as relieved so much as… incredulous. "You got a bronze," he notes, pulled from his thoughts by Yasminath's attention on Nymionth. "That's…" There's an 'I told you so' in there somewhere, but Kez can't quite find it right now. "Amazing."

Considering the ONLY time F'inn has seen K'zre smile was surfing? The sight is more then a little satisfying. "You see that," he murmurs to Nymionth. "We definately need to see more of that." Nymionth responds with raising his head, exhaling a croon of agreement before tucking his big ol' oily noggin back in F'inn's lap. Course, F'inn can't help but laugh in response to K'zre. "I would call it shocking, but.. he's perfect. We're perfect. I just.. Huh." He doesn't know what to say about it, really. And for a moment, there is the worry that he won't be able to do Nymionth justice. Nym, however, is having none of that and raises his head to touch snout to nose with F'inn. "I know," he whispers. "Really," he promises as he smooths his hand over Nymionth's neck.

Yasminath is all glee and light and optimism and love. How could Kez not smile for that? And when F'inn calls him out on it, there's not even a glower. Because how can he glower with Yasminath crooning and nuzzling in, smearing blood and oil across that previously-pristine white robe? One bucket of meat seems to be enough for her. Kez nudges it aside so that he can get closer to Yasminath, reaching to rub gentle fingers down the length of her back to find all the itchy spots. "I never believed in fate," he admits. "But this…" Sure feels like fate. Meal finished, Yas takes a page out of Nymionth's book and shoves her head into her weyrling's lap, jewel-toned eyes whirling slowly as her lids descend. K'zre makes a comfy pillow for her head, and those oily fingers are finding all the right places to sooth. Crooooooooon. "I can't believe I almost walked away…"

"You didn't, though," F'inn assures. "Cause despite what you thought you believed? A part of you /knew/ she was out there waiting for you." He firmly and emphatically believes that. When Yasminath settles down to croon, Nymionth stretches his neck way out, lightly booping her nose with his own before returning to cuddling in F'inn's lap. Truth be told, F'inn hadn't believed it, either. But there they are and there is no denying it, now.

"No, I didn't," agrees K'zre, who is all moony-eyed over Yasminath. "And neither did you," he notes, tearing his gaze away from the sleepy green to shoot a pointed look at F'inn. That 'pointed look' has lost a lot of its weight, given that it is currently impossible for Kez to express anything other than joy right now. Glowering? Forget it. At least for the night. Day? Immediate future. Nose boops earn croons, and then a wide-mouthed yawn as Yasminath slips closer and closer toward sleep. She's trying to stay awake, but she just can't. « Sleepy… » she apologizes, in a tone gone hazy. "Bed time," agrees Kez. A squint around, and then he just scoots himself back onto the nearest pile of blankets, Yas coming along with little effort. That he will be cuddling with her? Not even a question. "I hope they bring breakfast…" Cause Kez ain't going anywhere.

"I'm sure they will," F'inn murmurs as he turns his attention back to Nymionth. Right now, the thought that he almost walked away from it all? To painful to even consider. And pain is just not something he will entertain at the moment. Instead, he smiles at K'zre and Yasminath, his chin tilting in a nod. "Sleep well." Once everyone is down and resting, he'll clean up and make sure there is food for when they wake. Responsibility? Not a trait Finn is known for, but there it is. That Nym approves, clear in the light nuzzle he bestows on his lifemate and the low, soothing croon that is ever present.

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