Who F'inn, K'zre, Nymionth, Yasminath
What Nymionth has a prize for Yasminath! It's a necklace… of sorts.
When Summer - Month 6 of Turn 2718
Where Training Complex, Fort Weyr

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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 centre of the two entrances of the opposing barracks, near the rock face, is a statue with a memorial plaque.

"I am aware, Nymionth," F'inn laughs as the pair make their way back across the bowl toward the barracks. Whatever they discussing, it is apparently important enough that Nymionth swings his head around, giving F'inn a level look before whuffling at his hair. In the wake of the gesture, the massive bronze noses at the package F'inn is carrying, snuffing in satisfaction before picking up his pace toward the barracks. « Yasminath! I have a prize for you! » The announcement is made as he veers off from F'inn, offering a chuff of greeting to K'zre before lowering his snout to gently nose bump Yasiminath.

« A prize? » the words are lazily spoken, somewhat slurred as if she's waking from a nap. And perhaps she is. Curled around K'zre, still-small form soaking up the warmth of the sun, she lifts her head to regard the approaching bronze. But she's quick to come to alertness, the whirling eyes spinning faster as he nears. "Hello Nymionth," comes in greeting from the human half, and while Kez doesn't smile, there is a softening expression for the young bronze. "F'inn," he offers a bit louder, gaze shifting from dragon to weyrling at his approach. « What is it?? » wonders Yasminath, fairly vibrating with delight and excitement even before she's been told what it is that she's getting.

« A prize, » Nymionth confirms in mellow tones. « Because I know that you will try the hardest to make sure that you do your exercises every day. » "Hey," F'inn returns to K'zre, a lopsided smile tracing over his lips as he tosses him the package tucked under his arm. "It's for Yasminath, from Nym." In the wake of the words, he dips his head a nod to Yasminath, his smile warming as he watches the excitement building in the young green. For his part, Nymionth manages to look both extremely confident and more then a little nervous all at the same time. Still, he puts a bold face on it, settling down next Yasminath as the parcel is handed over.

« I have been doing them! » The words are not defensive so much as gleeful declaration, because Yasminath knows she's been doing well, and she knows that Nymionth will be proud of her. Just as K'zre is proud of her. « Every day. Three times! » The slant of brown eyes to green dragon comes in the wake of those words, an eyebrow lifted though Kez says nothing. Because yes. Yasminath has been doing her excises. It just comes with a LOT of protest and whining, which the poor weyrling must endure. While Yas remains lounging, despite the eager anticipation that has little paws kneading and her little tail twitching, Kez hauls himself to his feet and dusts himself off before accepting that packet. "Oh?" and a glance is spared once more for the growing bronze, expression briefly skeptical. « Open it, open it! » encourages Yas, the green twisting around to nudge-nudge-nudge at Kez until he's complying. As Nymionth settles, she wiggles herself happily up against his side, though her head and her attention is definitely on that present there. And once it's opened? "Huh…" from Kez, and then a mental squeal of delight from Yasminath, even if a moment later she's asking « What is it?? » because she can't quite figure it out. She just sees fabric, and blue, and gold, and those are some of her favorite things (because almost everything is her favorite thing, right now).

A broad piece of bright blue fabric, with two lengths of snow white ribbon as trim, has been crafted into a sailor style collar wide enough to fit around a young dragon's neck. At the ends, the fastenings have been arranged in such a way that it can be easily expanded to fit as one grows. The collar is broader in the back, narrowing to a curved 'V' in the front. Beneath the lower point of the 'V' a large bright red bow has neatly added, a large circle crafted from shimmering gold fabric and adorned with an embroidered cresent moon, acts as center piece for the bow. In the front, upper portion of the collar, a length of wide red ribbon has been added to resemble a choker, the shimmering gold fabric putting in another appearance in the form another crescent moon.

« It's a necklace, » Nymionth informs as he drapes a wing over Yasminath's back. « With moons on it. » "It's a…" Trailing off, F'inn glances at Nym, his lips pursing as he bites back collar and goes with, "Necklace with moons on it. Here," he offers as he steps closer and unfolds the fabric to show K'zre how it would go on. "He insisted that it be made so that it can be expanded as she grows." In the wake of F'inn's words, Nymionth croons contently, looking more then a little proud of himself. « A moon princess should have a moon necklace, » he informs in matter of fact tones. "I'm not saying that, Nym," F'inn notes in stubborn tones.

« I LOVE IT! » And she does. She really does. It's flowing out of her like light from a glowbasket, and even Kez is wincing a bit at the brightness of her voice, the brilliant white that briefly steals his vision. But there's a smile playing at his mouth, affection in his gaze as he turns to pass his hand tenderly over her eyeridge as he murmurs a low, "gently," to remind her that control is a thing she needs to practice. "A necklace?" he wonders, attention coming back to the item in his hands as F'inn steps closer to help unfold it. Kez isn't so sure that 'necklace' is the right term, but when he opens his mouth to say so there's another (quieter) squeal of delight from Yasminath that decisively shuts him up. He's not going to steal her joy. « It's so beautiful! Thank you, Nymionth! » And she's positively glowing with glee, wiggling against him as she nudges K'zre with her nose. « Can I wear it? » she asks, the words almost pleading before she's abruptly regarding Nymionth with a puzzled, « Princess? » Thankfully, Kez is well versed in literature, even fairy tales, and she's able to pluck the meaning from his brain. « ooh… » If dragons could blush, Yasminath would probably be doing so rather furiously, though it's clear she likes the idea of being a princess. Kez? Kez has no idea what to make of this situation, and is passing a look between F'inn, Nymionth, and Yasminath in turn, a confused frown slowly growing. "Hm."

F'inn scrubs a hand over the back of his neck, his lopsided smile growing as he lightly clears his throat. "Yeah. Well." What can you do, really? Nym has a mind of his own and F'inn's not about to tell him he can't have his princess. His own feelings on it all? He's just not really sure, at all, on that score. "The tailor that made it said she could add hooks later, so it can be worn over straps as a decoration." That seems like a way safer statement to go with. "He /did/ promise her a prize," F'inn murmurs in tones that are only just slightly defensive. « You are welcome, Yasminath. » Nymionth's response is coupled with a basso croon, his tail swishing around to tuck around her smaller form.

Kez? Not ready to dive into the potential meaning of all this. Nope. Not going there. Yas is less than two months old, and he's just going to blissfully pretend she'll always be a baby and that giving gifts is just a THING Nym does. "Interesting." That for the hooks. For the idea that it could be worn with straps. Nevermind that Kez hasn't really begun to think about straps at all (even if he probably should be). "He did," agrees K'zre, who is doing his darnedest to figure out how he's going to get this thing on Yasminath since she's wiggling around like a fish out of water now. "I was hoping it would be something small and… I don't know." He's not sure what he was expecting. Maybe nothing at all. But definitely not a sailor collar fitted for a dragon. But Yasminath is tickled pink over it, utterly delighted and alternating between twinkling-delight and a shy, bashfulness. But she's happen, so Kez is happy. Or at least he's not upset. "Can you help me get it on her?" Because this is definitely going to be a two-person job. "She's insisting."

"Of course," F'inn quickly latches onto the request, relaxing almost immediately with something to do beside standing there looking awkward. "Here," he states as he takes one end of the collar and moves to Yasminath's left. "The red ribbon in the center is supposed to mimic a choker, so we need to make sure- Yes, Nymionth, we will be gentle, thank you," he sighs. In the wake of the sigh, he shoots his lifemate a /look/. Nym, however, is completely unflustered by that look and merely continues to watch the proceedings closely. « Be still for just a moment, princess, » He assures Yasminath in rose scented tones. « Just long enough for them to put it on you properly. » Nymionth is not the least bit bashful. He is, in fact, no feeling ultimately confident and completely relaxed with the proceedings.

Lips pressed firmly together in a conscious effort against letting comments fly, Kez just nods at the information that comes. There is, however, a slanted side-eye at the bronze. "Of course we'll be gentle," he huffs, frowning as he reaches out to put a decisively possessive hand on Yasminath's hide. She is /his/ dragon. Yas? Oblivious. But there's a chirruping sound that somehow manages to be high pitched despite coming from such a large creature. « Okay. » and a moment later, she's gone exceedingly still. Like a small green boulder. Brown eyes narrow, but rather than comment further, Kez just works at getting the 'necklace' firmly around her neck before she's wiggling once again. Even after it's fastened he lingers at her shoulder, hand smoothing over bright green hide as he murmurs a low, "Is it comfortable?" « It is! It's… different, » she confesses, experimenting with a little movement of shoulders, wing and neck. « But it doesn't hurt. » A little tickly, but she'll get used to it. "Have you started your straps?" he asks suddenly in a not at all subtle attempt to change the subject.

"He meant me," F'inn assures K'zre. He does, however, shoot another /look/ at Nymionth, smiling at Yasminath before stepping back. "Hrm?" Confused at the abrupt change of subject, it takes him a moment to redirect his attention, his hands stuffing into his pants as he draws back out of arms reach. "Yeah," he admits. "Nymionth insisted we get a jump on it so we can help anyone who might be having problems with it." Which F'inn thinks is ridiculous given they have Aignes amongst them. "Course, with how big he's gotten, the few days jump will about keep us even with the rest of you. But," he adds. "We have them cut and sized and treated." A process Nymionth oversaw every step of the way. "And should start putting them together tomorrow." « You look as pretty as the moons, » Nymionth assures Yasminath in those rose-scented tones. He is, however, aware of K'zre's upset and withdraws his wing from around her back with a gracious inclination of that massive head. "He wants me to assure you he meant no offense," F'inn notes.

Yasminath preens in delight once the collar necklace is secured. It might be a little ticklish against her skin, but she's not about to give it up. « I love it! » she repeats, beaming with delight. « Thank you, Nymionth. » The words come with an affectionate nudge of her nose before she's twisting her head around to stuff her head in against K'zre's chest, a deep croon vibrating through her throat. She doesn't know /why/ her human is feeling particularly jealous, but she's going to do her best to sooth it. Gentle fingers whispering over her headknobs, Kez just offers a curt nod of his head in response to the last, though his gaze is stubbornly avoiding both F'inn and Nymionth for the moment. Focused on Yasminath, on the faint pattern of silver currently hidden but that he knows is there. Straps are definitely a safer subject, though there's a frown that comes when he admits, "I haven't started mine. I've played around with the leather," he adds quickly. "Using the awl and cutting different pieces, but not anything for Yasminath's own straps." And while he ought to be more serious about it, there's just no rush in him. "I'll do them eventually." Someday. "He is huge," he agrees, eyeing the bronze.

F'inn might have been inclined toward clowning around prior to impression, but he's always been a particularly empathic person. That being the case, he makes a point to put a bit more distance between himself and the green pair. And, while it takes a bit of convincing, Nymionth eventually concedes ground and moves over to settle down next to F'inn. He's confused though and it shows in the slightly orangish hue to his eyes. Concerned, F'inn immediately reaches up and, after drawing that massive head down to himself, lightly scritches Nymioth's eyeridges. "Of course you will," he allows as he slants a glance at K'zre. "We have all week to work on them, there is no rush." At the last, he nods mildly before smoothing his hand over Nymionth's snout. "He is. And getting bigger every day." Which is kind of daunting, but kind of cool at the same time.

Yasminath is confused, but her distress is tempered by the soothing fingers at her eyeridges and the knowledge that K'zre is not upset with her. She offers a friendly wuffle as Nymionth backs off, and while she might lament the loss of him, miss cuddling up with his giant bronze form, she's happy to curl up around Kez and snuggle in against him. The weyrling settles himself on the ground, tucking in against her side while Yas stuffs her head into his chest and then on his lap, still small enough that the weight of it isn't crushing. Those straps? He'll do them eventually. They might not be the best in the world. They might not even pass the first time (much to pre-Impression Kezresan's HORROR), but they'll get done. "So is she," he observes, caught between lament that she's growing up and wonder for it. It is what babies do, after all. "She's excited to fly." Because what dragon isn't? "I'm not sure I'm ready."

"I'm so ready for that," F'inn admits as he settles down to rest his back against Nym's foreleg. Unfortunately, Nym's head is bigger then F'inn and no longer lap snugglable. Instead, Nym rests his head on the ground next to his lifemate, crooning reassuringly at him, then with pleasure as F'inn's attention turns to eyeridges. "At least Yasminath is still cuddle sized," he points out. "Nym misses that." He knows it, even if the bronze won't admit it. "I cannot even imagine the size of the weyr I'm going to need for just the pair of us." It's a daunting thought, but one that inspires a wry smile. "Anyways, it is what it is. So, you are doing alright? Everything good?" The upward glance he slants toward K'zre is fleeting at best, tempered with the awkwardness he hasn't been able to shake.

"A very large one," adds K'zre, oh so helpfully. He's not even being sarcastic about it. "Although, you should have no trouble finding a suitable size, given the decreased dragon population." A whisper of a frown comes as his eyes drift fleetingly up the weyrbowl wall, flitting over shadowed ledges before he's dropping his eyes very decisively back to Yasminath. "During Thread times, I imagine the greenriders would have to settle for smaller spaces," he muses. "I don't think I'd mind, though. A smaller space is easier to keep clean." As for how he's doing? That might just be a difficult question to answer, though Kez's immediate response is, "I'm fine." And he's not lying. Not really. But there's a bit of a frown and a little bit of a shift, and a softer sound from Yasminath as she nudges at him. "Everything is good. Yasminath is perfect…" and there's really nothing else that matters to him, right now. A beat. Two. And it's dawning on Kez that he ought to reciprocate that question with a polite, "Are you?" in response.

F'inn frowns at the mention of decreased numbers, his head giving a rapid shake to banish unpleasant thoughts. K'zre's words, however, bring his attention back, his head tilting as he regards the other weyrling for a long moment in silence. "Fine is rarely actually fine," he points out. "But.." he'll let that go with a faint shrug of his shoulders. Glancing at Nym, his lips twitch in a faint smile, blue eyes crinkling at the corners in response to something only he can hear. "Mm. Hrm?" Glancing back over at K'zre, one brow twitches mildly before offers. "'M fine," back. Whether it's true, or not? It seems like the only reasonable answer to give. In the wake of the words, he pushes to his feet, only the very top of his head visible as he moves around Nymionth's side to gently work at an itchy spot.

"Why would I not be fine?" counters Kez, somewhat confused and perhaps a little defensive. "I really am," he argues, gaze lifted to peer at F'inn while his fingers keep right on scritch-scritching despite Yasminath having fallen into a light doze. "I really do feel… fine." There's no other word for it. It's perplexing. He can't explain it, and the attempt to do so has him looking briefly like his previously grumpy self, a scowl drawn across his face as he huffs in annoyance. It's that return 'fine' that has him frowning all the more, confused and disbelieving as he puzzles through things he just cannot understand. "You just said 'fine is rarely fine'" he repeats. "Does that mean you're not really fine?" He's just going to remain right where he is, both because he's perfectly content to be sitting on the ground with Yasminath, and because she's kinda holding him hostage with her big head in his lap.

"Fine is good," F'inn states as he continues to work on the itchy spots Nym seems to be finding in abundance now. After a lengthy silence, he steps around the bronze, one hand resting lightly on his hide. "It was an attempt to engage in conversation. It's fine." Although even a glimpse at his face is enough to suggest that he's a little annoyed. More so because he knows there is no real reason or sense in being annoyed. "I need to grab oil," he states flatly before vanishing into the barracks. Nymionth swings his head around as F'inn vanishes, huffing before resettling on the ground. When he returns, he does have a bucket of oil and a paddle and immediately steps back around Nym to work on the spots he cannot comfortably reach. "I'm going to need a ladder or a pole to get these soon," he grumbles.

K'zre is confused. This fact is made abundantly clear, not just because he looks confused, but because he says very pointedly, "I'm confused." His fingers have stopped scratching Yasminath, but as she's currently dozing away and oblivious, there is no complaint from the green for her weyrling's distraction. In the wake of that confession however, Kez falls silent, watching F'inn (or Nymionth, until F'inn comes back into view) with a bit of a frown and a whole lot of awkwardness. "A conversation?" Apparently, this clears nothing up. And while Kez isn't exactly the most socially attuned individual, he can at least pick up on the fact that something is amiss. He's still staring at him in that potentially awkward way of his as F'inn vanishes to get oil. As though studying a specimen in a petri dish. As if he can discover by squinting alone, what the issue might be. But when he returns, Kez just point-blank states, "If I said the wrong thing, I'm sorry." One. Two. Three. "Did I say something wrong?"

While it is impossible to see F'inn's face with Nymionth's bulk in the way, the sigh that spills past his lips makes it clear that he's at least listening to K'zre. For a long moment there is no response before he finally states. "No. No, you did not say anything wrong, K'zre. It's my fault," he admits as he pushes the paddle into the bucket then stretches up to work at Nymionth's back. "I'm not used to people not enjoying my company." It is not arrogance, but rather simply a statement of his experience. Course, it does not help that Nymionth is so attached to Yasminath. "If anything I owe you an apology for trying to force myself into your business. So, I apologize for that." As he speaks, Nymionth cranes his neck around, using his snout to bump F'inn in a pointedly chiding manner. "I am not being rude," he sighs at his lifemate.

"I don't…" Understand. Cause he doesn't. These are those finer nuances of human interactions and relationships that K'zre feels utterly incapable of understanding. Of interpreting correctly. And so he lapses into silence, choosing to listen and study rather than immediately speak whatever it is that might be going through his head. Even the avoidance of his gaze, if that is what it is, is not interpreted as such, the weyrling taking things at face value. He will confirm that, "You're not being rude." Because at least, he does not interpret it as such. After what might be a somewhat lengthy silence, while Kez frowns and perhaps rehearses the conversation in his head, he finally says, "I thought we were friends," with the sort of tone that suggests he's no longer certain of this. "Are we?" A moment or two later and he admits, "I know I'm not any good at it." Being friends. "But I'm trying." And to prove the point, there's a shift in his posture, a straightening of his back and a rolling of his shoulders before he states rather firmly, "What did you want to know?"

F'inn has never, in the entirety of his life, met anyone like K'zre. He's frustrating to talk to, hard to get to know, and oddly charming all at the same time. It is enough that he takes a moment to rest his brow against Nymionth's side. "Yes, we are still friends." Rather then opt for phrases like 'of course', he's come to the conclusion that the direct route is just the best course of action. In the wake of the realization, he shoves the paddle back into the bucket, stepping around Nym to work on the side facing Yasminath and K'zre. "I don't really know what I wanted to know," he admits with a lopsided smile. "I forget, sometimes, that you are very direct in saying what you think. For a lot of people," he notes as he glances at K'zre. "Saying 'I'm fine' indicates something might be wrong, or there is something they are uncertain of. It really was my mistake in forgetting that when you say you are fine, you are actually fine. And," he notes with a chuckles. "That was a lot of fine in a short amount of time."

"I've never understood that," admits K'zre, "Why someone would say they are fine, but they aren't." And there's a small amount of irritation for such people. Or, rather, for the resulting confusion and frustration that comes when Kez does not say the appropriate thing in return, and suddenly they're mad, and he's confused, and it's just a giant mess that has the healer-turned-weyrling wishing he'd become a hermit. A sigh, and he tips his head back against Yasminath's shoulder, eyes closed briefly as he lets the thought wash away. "It was," he agrees, for that whole lotta fine. "But I really am fine. I've never been more… fine in my life." And that might just be the truest statement Kez has ever uttered. "Yasminath is everything. With her I feel… like it's alright to be who I am." She's also dead to the world asleep, and it's making K'zre somewhat groggy in return. "You should train Ferb to help you oil Nymionth," he suggests, eyeing the bronze beast. "I've seen firelizards help wash dragons. Oiling can't be much different."

"That," F'inn agrees. "Is a great idea." Course, he's not entirely sure Ferb would be willing to engage in that much physical activity. Shoving the paddle back into the oil bucket, he rolls his shoulders and smooths a hand over Nymionth's side. "I'm going to head to the living cavern to grab some food," He states. "I'll bring something back for you. If you fall asleep, it'll be in a basket near your cot." That being said, he gives Nymionth another gentle stroke of his hand before heading out to grab food. Sleep might not be something he gets alot of, but his appetite is still huge. Not for sugar, mind you, but still huge.

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