Who F'inn, K'zre
What Weyrlings conversing.
When Summer-Autumn - Month 8 of Turn 2718
Where Training Complex, Fort Weyr

finn_default.png kez_default.png

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.

If K'zre thought that having Yasminath in the air would mean an end to the stumbling shenanigans… he was sorely mistaken. Oh, she doesn't trip. Because there's really nothing in the air to trip over. But just because there's no /ground/ beneath her, doesn't mean she can't find other fun and creative ways to give her weyrling small heart attacks through the day. Or big heart attacks. Because now instead of tripping over her own feet and smashing her poor little nose into the ground, she's having near-collisions with wingmates. Or the wall. Or the ground. Or basically ANYTHING that doesn't get out of her way fast enough. It's not that she's terrible at flying. Quite the opposite! Yasminath was /born/ to fly, and she can do it rather gracefully when she puts her mind to it. It's that… she gets distracted so darn easily! And the second she takes her eyes off of where she's going, it's game over. Up, straight flight, land. She's got that one down pat. But the moment they started introducing turns?! Forget it. So is it any surprise that the weyrlingmasters have been less than enthusiastic about letting her fly with others around? Probably not. Evenings. And mornings. The times when other weyrlings are either still snoozing, or about to BE snoozing, has become prime-time for Yasminath and K'zre to be in the field and practicing that flying business.

So here they are: K'zre sprawled on a blanket, elbows to the ground and head reclined back so that he can watch Yasminath twist and turn and have the time of her life in the air without having to worry about other dragons getting in the way (let's be real, she's the one that gets in the way of them…). And she really is quite good at it, twisting and turning and almost dancing through the sky, the setting sun providing a rather pretty backdrop for her aerial acrobatics.

F'inn's appearance is announced with a mug of klah being held directly before K'zre's nose. "Figured you needed this," he laughs as he wiggles it enticingly. The moment it is taken, F'inn steps around and drops into a sprawl on the blanket next to K'zre, his weight settling on one elbow. "She's doing amazing!" The compliment is uttered as he turns his gaze up to Yasminath, pale blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Course, at the same time, Nymionth is bursting into the air— try to keep him on the ground when she's flying, I dare you. « You have gotten very good at twirling in the air, Yasminath! » Course, given the fact that he's loathe to let her fly without him, he's gotten pretty good at evasion, himself. Probably the /only/ reason the weyrlingmaster does not have fits when Nymionth takes to the sky. Course, F'inn's used to it and just smirks before slanting a glance back at Kez. "Have you even eaten today?"

K'zre almost groans for that Klah, and is snatching it away just as quickly (and carefully) as he possibly can. A shift of his weight, and he's sipping carefully at that hot beverage while tossing looks between Yasminath, Nymionth and F'inn. "She's… yeah." The appearance of the bronze is cause for glee in the young green, who twists around with the clear intention of darting down to 'meet' him, only to twirl right back up again. « It is so much fun! And so much easier, » she declares, « When there is no one getting in my way. » There's no accusation for her fellow weyrlings, and on some level Yasminath is aware that the problem rests with her. But it's just so HARD to pay attention when it's so fun to fly! « I can go higher, and higher… I can almost touch the clouds. » Only Kez won't let her go much further above the rim of the weyrbowl. And /definitely/ not over it. Line of sight, at all times! "Um…" and while Kez does frown and furrow his eyebrows in a manner most thoughtful, he's looking pretty doubtful. "Maybe?" Nope. "I ate breakfast." And now it's past dinner. Winning, Healer-style. "I'm not hungry. This," he continues, lifting the mug in his hand, "Is plenty."

F'inn exhales a snort. "That is not plenty. No more then an hour of sleep was plenty for /me/. We'll go get some food later." When they can get them out of the sky. Maybe. Hopefully. For his part, Nymionth bugles triumphantly, those massive wings beating the air to carry him high enough to be well out of the Yasminath's aerial acrobatics. « You must get used to sharing the sky, princess. You can still have fun while paying attention to your surroundings. » It's /hard/, he knows. Particularly when one is excitable as Yasminath tends to be. « It is important to be able to function in a wing. » That, however, is all the nagging he intends to do, his molten bronze form twisting through the air as he makes a broad circle above her. "How long has she been at it," F'inn asks curiously. "It's like she doesn't get tired, at all." HYPER DRAGON!

F'inn gets a scowl. Because K'zre knows he's right but does not want to admit it. "Fine." As if eating food is the worst thing, ever. He's probably just being petulant, given the weyrlingmasters might threaten to ground Yas if she can't figure out how to 'share the skies' as Nymionth puts it. « I knoooooow, » sighs Yasminath, twisting her head around to peer at Nymionth. « It's just so hard! They come out of nowhere, and so fast! » So does the wall, even though it's never moved a day in her life. « And flying in wings is boring, » she adds. She's peeked at those diagrams over K'zre's shoulder. There's no fun stuff happening. But she'll do it. And eventually she'll figure out how to maintain her trajectory even when she's looking at other things. Right now? If her nose is not pointed in the direction she's going, it's a fair bet she'll go off course. « I will just fly higher than everyone else! Then I won't have to worry about it. » Problem solved. Just forget about landing. "An hour or so," muses
Kez, squinting against the glare of the sun as he follows Yasminath's path through the sky. "I'll let her go another hour, before I make her land." A sigh, and he slants an almost smirk toward F'inn. "She gets tired. She just… when she flies… it's all she can think about. As soon as her feet are back on the ground, she'll fall asleep."

« The weyrlingmasters will not let you fly if you do not do it correctly, » Nymionth points out in gentle tones. « It is important, Yasminath. And if you make a real effort to do it correctly, /all/ the time? I will make sure and fly with you as often as you like. Otherwise, think about how lonely it will be with no one around? » "Well," F'inn laughs as he curls one arm beneath his head. "Following her around and urging her to do it the right way is good practice for Nymionth." As if he could keep the bronze from doing /that/. Hardly. "Promise," is added belatedly regarding food. "I know /you/, sir. You will convienently 'forget' to eat." And that just won't do. Really, he should have just hauled food out with him. "Have you done her first hunt yet," he asks curiously.

« I am doing it correctly, » argues Yasminath. Though her arguments are less argumentative and more… counter perspective. « I am flying. See? » and she demonstrates by spiraling upward, big swooping circles that take her further and further aloft. « How else would I do it? » She's in the air. Her wings are flapping… that's flying, right?? « It is not lonely, Nymionth! You are here. And even if you are on the ground, » though she would hate that, admittedly, « there are still the birds! And the firelizards. And the clouds, and the moons and the sun and the stars! » But even if Yas doesn't see his point, K'zre definitely does. "She'll get better," he asides to F'inn, almost beseeching. "Really, she will. She just… gets distracted. She doesn't understand…" A grimace, and he takes a long sip of that Klah before speaking further. "I promise. I will eat. Tonight," he adds. "Once she is down, and oiled, and sleeping. Then I will go get a proper meal." If there's even any proper food left. Otherwise, he'll hunt down whatever the cooks happen to have lying about and that will suffice. As for Yasminath's own hunting… A wince, and he admits, "No. I know she… she's not going to like it." Killing things? It was a struggle to get Yasminath to accept eating that the meat he ate her was once she realized it used to be /alive/. "You? Er, well… Nymionth I mean…"

"I know she will," F'inn assures as he sweeps his gaze back up to the dragons. "It's not about /better/. She flys perfectly. It's about focusing when she needs to. But she'll get it," he assures. Overhead, Nymionth croons as he watches her, backwinging in the air to keep her within easy view. « There is more to being a dragon then just being able to fly, Yasminath. You have a duty to the weyr and whatever wing you are in, you must learn to focus when it is necessary. » Course, it's gently said given that the last thing Nymionth wants is to steal her joy. "Hrm?" Glancing back at K'zre, F'inn tilts his head for a moment, his brows furrowing before he laughs. "Oh! Yes, we went this morning. He handled it well," he admits. "I don't think he enjoyed it, but he knows it is necessary." Course, he cannot imagine Yasminath's reaction and winces mildly. "Yeah… she's not going to like that, at all."

« But… » Gentle or no, she's still going to sorta wilt under that correction. For a moment, her twirling evens out and her flight becomes much less exuberant. « K'zre says I am perfect… » is her next argument, though it is weak and somewhat questioning now. « I am not trying to be bad, » she counters, angling herself in to a lazy descent. « But it is hard, and I can't… » She can't do the thing she's supposed to do, the way she's supposed to do it. With a mental sigh and a rush of wind that heralds the end of her flight, she puts feet to ground once again in a loping landing. At least she does not trip this time. With a wince, Kez twists to put the mug down beside him so that he can shove himself to his feet to meet her halfway, a murmured, "She's a little sensitive…" Just a bit. « I am done, » she decides, shoving her head into his stomach. Attention to Yasminath, it takes Kez a moment or two before he can form a response for F'inn. In the end, there's just a shake of his head because, with Yas right here, he'd rather not discuss the subject of killing things. "I guess we're done." Flying, at least.

« Bad? I did not say you are bad, Yasminth, » Nymionth points out. He would /never/ say that. Swooping down to fly closer to her, he croons gently. « And you are perfect. And graceful and beautiful. Your excitment is as infectious as can be. But we /must/ learn to focus, as well. I would never see your joy taken from you, » He assures while looping around her in a lazy circle. When she lands, Nymionth follows, more then a little concerned over her sudden mood. "So I see," F'inn agrees. "It's fine. She'll get used to it." As Yasminath joins them, with Nymionth not far behind, F'inn inclines his head to the green. "You looked amazing, Yasminath." In the wake of the words, he steps over to Nymionth, gently reaching up to smooth a hand over the bronze's shoulder in a soothing gesture. "It's okay, Nymionth," he assures in quiet tones.

« You didn't. But if I am not doing it right, then I must be doing it wrong. » Dragon logic. And perhaps a bit of K'zre logic, too. Even if he would never suggest it to her intentionally. And Yasminath might not be the only one who is a bit sensitive to the challenges she faces. Though Kez won't speak about it, his jaw is tight and his shoulders tense, and he's paying a rather lot of attention to Yasminath's eyeridges and the subtle silver crescent just beginning to catch the light. « Thank you. » "She says thank you." Another moment spent idly soothing tender feelings, and Kez steps back and sinks down to the blanket once again. "She hears it a lot," he states finally, picking up his discarded mug but not lifting it to his mouth. "From the weyrlingmasters. To be more careful. To pay attention. To focus. She's /trying/."

"Of course she is," F'inn assures as he glances back at K'zre. "She'll get it." Nymionth, however, is distraught, that much is clear from the whirling of his eyes and the slightly yellowish hue. After a moment, though, his eyes go brilliant blue, his head swinging around toward Yasminath. « Follow the leader! » He'd plucked the game right out of F'inn's mind and his excitement is nearly overflowing as he steps closer to Yasminath. « It's a game! And you are excellent at games. In the game you follow the leader, matching what you are doing to what they are doing. In this case, the leader would be the wingleader. And if you /win/, you get to be the wingleader! » Which, really? Brilliant and F'inn cannot help but grin at the notion. "Good idea, Nymionth," he agrees. Looking back at K'zre, he snorts. "M'icha is a grouchy old man."

Yasminath considers this game, rolling the idea round in her head. But who is she kidding? It's a game. Of COURSE she's going to do it! Especially since K'zre is confirming that it is a legitimate game, too. One he knows and might have played. « They won't really let me be wingleader, » she decides, her tone almost a giggle for the thought. « But I will play it. There is only you, though, » she notes. « Can it be played with only two? » Because of course, she'd want to play it now. Kez, though, puts a small stop to that. "Tomorrow," he murmurs. Wing strains are definitely still a threat, and he's going to keep it a minimal one. Yasminath accepts the terms (she has no choice, really), and settles for bounding over and tucking herself against Nymionth's side and promptly yawning. "He is," agrees K'zre, head tilted to regard his dragon before his gaze slides toward F'inn. "But he is also the Weyrlingmaster and has been doing this for a long, long time." Translation: he knows what he's talking about. Not that it's stopped Kez from sneaking a few midnight practice sessions in, under the radar. "/I/ am not worried. I just wish they'd stop… hounding her about it."

« Tomorrow, » Nymionth agrees. « Tomorrow we will play for as long as you like. You can follow me. I can follow you. We will both have practice leading a wing. » A wing of two, but that's fine with Nymionth. The moment Yasminath is back at his side, he drapes a wing over her and lowers his head to croon at her adoringly. With the yawning, Nym is very careful to settle down on the ground, providing a big bronze bedroom set for the tiny green. Watching the pair, F'inn's smile softens, his chin dipping in a nod as he glances back at K'zre. "Well, I think we can mitigate their grumping with follow the leader. We'll just have to make sure she gets lots and lots of free fly time, as well." Cause there is no way he would steal her joy, either. "Come on," he adds with a jerk of his head toward the living cavern. "They're gonna nap, we can bath and oil them later. Right now, YOU need to eat."

Settling down, Yasminath is definitely headed for a nap. But she'll definitely be awake later. Particularly if the moons are going to be shining in any form or fashion. There is no argument that K'zre can make, either for the napping of dragons or the necessity of food. But he can scowl for a moment or two, peering into the distance in a manner that suggests he is not seeing anything but his own thoughts. And then, with a rough sound of protest, he pushes himself back to his feet with the half-drunk mug still in his hand. "Fine." Because he knows F'inn is right. Yas is already dozing off and does not require his attention. And his stomach is probably growling something fierce and he's been ignoring it for hours. A final glance for the dragons, and then he's setting off toward the living caverns under the assumption that F'inn is coming with.

F'inn wins and the smug smile on his face makes that more then clear as he strides after K'zre. "Kez one, F'inn one," he calls. "Just sayin." He was right. He KNOWS he'll never hear it uttered, but he knows that Kez knows that he knows he knows. "I hope they still have meat pies," he adds as he catches up and slants a grin at K'zre's face. "Maybe some roast wherry? That sounds amazing right now."

Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.

Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

"Kez one?" he repeats. Pausing long enough to allow F'inn to catch up, K'zre slides a questioning look his direction. No, he's not going to admit that he lost. Even if he's pretty sure it's more than once that he's lost to F'inn. "I… nevermind." He doesn't want to know (but really, he does). The mention of food has his free hand going unconsciously to his stomach before he's dropping it intentionally to his side. "With roast vegetables and a few of those buttery rolls." Yeah, he's definitely thinking about food now. "Wish I could have a strong drink, too," he murmurs. But that will have to come later.

"You were right about my sleeping. I was right about your eating. We're tied." F'inn? He KNOWS K'zre wants to know and that knowledge shines in blue eyes. Course, he's catching Kez' hand the moment it drops, lightly squeezing his fingers. "Oh me too," he notes at the mention of a drink. "I feel like it's been /forever/." Stepping into the living cavern, he releases Kez' hand, veering off toward the tables of food. "Grab a pitcher of klah and two mugs, I'll grab the food." And true to his word, he snags a tray and starts loading it down with roast wherry (a whole bird), roasted vegetables and a plate piled high with rolls and butter.

"My being correct about the necessity of sleep in the face of your poor sleeping habits for months," argues K'zre, "is not the same as your being correct that I need dinner." Not even close, in his mind, a point made clear with the pointed snort and half-roll of his eyes. "You can have half a point," he decides, sounding as though he feels that's being generous. "And yes, I will get the Klah." He can manage that, at least. It's an easy thing to accomplish, swapping out the soiled mug for a new one and scoring them a pitcher of fresh Klah before the dragonriders on evening sweeps have a chance to come in for it. He'll even snag the table, if just because there's one by the hearth that's free and he happens to be close by. Even if the heat is not necessary, the fire is pleasant and cozy. "I'm going to attend some of the dragonhealing classes. The… additional ones," he clarifies.

F'inn exhales a laugh at being given half a point, his lips twitching in a smirk. "So generous, K'zre." Clearly amused and in a fine mood, he steps over to the table and sets the food down before sliding into a seat. It's the last that has him smiling broadly, his chin dipping in a firm nod. "Good, you can explain things to me in small words." Winking, he fills a plate for each of them, sliding one in front of crazy before taking the second for himself. Realizing he's actually starving, himself, he tears a roll in half, stuffs some wherry into it and pushes it into his mouth with a groan of delight. "So hungry."

"It is," argues Kez, reaching for a plate and immediately going for the veggies. "You're contesting a Healer on matters of self-care. You," he adds, giving F'inn a pointed look, "who used to subside on cookies and cupcakes and pure sugar… telling me I need to eat dinner?" Huff. "You have half a point. Be grateful for it." He's teasing. Really. He's just not as good about being obvious that he's teasing and might come across more seriously than intended. A few bites in, and he shakes his head in answer to those small words. "You're smart," he corrects, once he's swallowed. "You'll do fine. Better, given Nymionth's natural ability." As for being hungry? He will concede to that with a brief scowl and a, "Me too," before taking another bite of vegetables.

F'inn exhales another laugh, the sound loud enough to make it clear that he's more then a little amused. K'zre is teasing and F'inn could not possibly be more delighted then he is. "Thank you," he states with a regal inclination of his head. Tucking in to the food, he's hungry enough that a few moments are spent eating before he sighs and takes a long swallow of klah. "I don't even miss sugar any more," he admits as he holds the mug between cupped hands. "I never thought that would happen." In fact, he would laughed in the face of anyone suggesting it. "Nym," he adds. "Is very excited about it all. Have you talked to Yasminath about it?"

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