Who Syn, Thys
What Morizanth is bored. Rhenesath makes a suggestion. Syn and Thys bond.
When Autumn, Turn 2711
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.

There's an autumnal crispness in the air, cold enough that winter gear is becoming a necessity, at least once Rukbat has sunk beyond the horizon. To stave off the cold as they watch weyrlings in the late afternoon as they go about their remaning tasks in the floodlit training grounds, Thys and Rhenesath have chosen a spot that's sheltered from the stiff breeze that is blowing its way around the closed-off area, with Thys wearing a heavy scarf atop her riding jacket, and leaning in against her lifemate's foreleg for some extra warmth. Rhenesath, still favouring one foreleg as she stands there, watches the weyrlings with eagerly-whirling eyes and plenty of clucking encouragement, though she doesn't get involved. Thys… well, she just watches, arms crossed over her chest, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Morizanth; not a fan of the cold. Morizanth; not a fan of useless work. Morizanth; not a fan of being watched. Morizanth… well, you get the picture. She's a piece of work, and sadly, we're not talking art. The green has found a space in the training yard that contains the most sunlight possible, regardless of whether that space happens to be in the way of everyone else trying to walk or stretch with their lifemates, mind a sour wash of dark, muddy waters as she argues loudly with her blonde-haired weyrling. "At least try to look like you care." « I will do no such thing. I do not care one whit whether or not this is our task for the day; I know how to walk. 'Tis useless to practice it again. » Syn's hands go up, too tired to hold a now-familiar argument, and away she stalks, blue eyes catching on Thys and her gold observing their practice, trajectory modified to approach them. "Please tell me it gets easier not to shake the stuffings out of them." And a good day to you, Thys!

Rhenesath is listening, but Thys seems not to pick up on Morizanth's conversation - only on Syn's frustration, especially when the weyrling marches her way. Morizanth's muddy waters are met with forge-bright heat and a comforting feather embrace, as the gold attempts to soothe her. « You're not only walking. You're exercising muscle, building strength. » She speaks fast, her words accompanied by a flick-book of images that flash by rapidly to explain her words. Thys smiles at Syn, pulling out of her lean to stand tall and dropping her arms from cross-chest to slip her hands into her pockets. "Some do, some don't. Rhenesath never really gave me any problems, to be honest." She shrugs apologetically, then smiles again as her eyes drift to the little green. "She doesn't like to walk?"

Morizanth's initial response is utterly felinic, head tilting just so, just enough that it gives away that she's heard what Rhenesath has said, but otherwise she focuses elsewhere, distant, aloof, annoyed… but also young, and incapable of holding sass in for long, even for the well-meaning gold. She tries to show some deference, but with Mori, that means a flashed splattering of water at the gold's heat and feathers, like a flick of fingers wet with water, rather than the bucket of mud and muck she might have weilded were Rhenesath anyone else. « There are other ways of accomplishing this task, ways that are much more interesting, much more likely to get me one step closer to the sky. I would even take walking somewhere else, but no. Round and round the bowl we go, and where we stop, everyone knows because it never changes. » Huff. Syn, meanwhile, rolls her eyes for Thys having gotten off lucky on the lifemate front, but it's not a terribly heated gesture - just continuing frustration as she moves the opposite, hands coming up to cross over her chest with a noise of irritated assent. "Walking. Feeding. Listening to authority. If she thinks it's stupid, or they're stupid, she won't do it. I keep trying to be the good person and bring her around, you know, but…" Emphatic. Gesture. At. Morizanth. "Might start taking a leaf out of Ibby's book and tackling her into submission."

« Ways which you'll learn when you're grown, and when you can cross the bowl. » With heat undiminished by the flick of water, Rhenesath shares an image of the lake - and of swimming within its refreshing waters, diving beneath its surface to explore below. « Do you prefer this way? » The big gold clucks soothingly, shifting her weight ever so slightly - because even the tiniest twinge on her left foreleg makes a flash of red run through her eyes, and causes Thys to turn to her, wincing in pain herself. While stroking her lifemate's hide in a comforting gesture, she answers Syn. "Sounds like she's quite the handful! Hopefully she'll come around… hopefully without the need to tackle her! Is that really what Ibrei- - I'rly is doing? Tackling Kralkth?" She seems shocked to hear it.

« And when will that be? Another month? Two? I could cross the bowl today if I so chose, if I thought it would get me anywhere, but tenacity and ingenuity are rarely rewarded here. » Though she has the likes of Kamysth and Foryth and Kralkth to base that opinion off of, so… Still, the dark bog of her mind stills for the images Rhenesath shares of the lake, and what lies beneath its surface, lured into silence - actual silence - as a result of interest. There's a brief flickering of lights, tiny pinpricks of interest… but no. She is strong. She is angry. She will not be swayed. Her mind goes dark again with a soft scoff. « Too wet. I prefer things exactly as I am now. At rest, in the sun, though I miss the warmth it usually holds. I hope this ill weather does not persist. » Whoops. Some~body hasn't explained seasons yet! If Mori notices Rhenesath's pain, she doesn't show it - she's entirely too rude - but Syn makes a sympathetic face up at the gold. "Still hurtin', huh? We heard about the crash, I was surprised to see you join us today, to be honest. Want me to make my daddy come out and see to her? He's been a Dragonhealer longer than he's had a dragon, I'm sure he'd be willing to." Because the weyr's Dragonhealers aren't good enough? As for Morizanth… "She's something, alright. I somehow doubt it. We're too much alike, she and I. This must be punishment for every bad thing I've ever done," Syg sighs dramatically, though a small smirk plays about her mouth as she nods confirmation. "She has to. Kralkth's a damn brute. It seems to amuse him, though - he praises her when she tries." Eyes cut to Thys. "This is a very strange clutch of dragons." In case she wasn't aware.

Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you can hear Leia from across the weyr screaming, "TH'ERO TOUCHED MEEEEEEEE!"

Rhenesath projects the mental equivlent of laughter. It comes out audibly as a wuffling cluck, but in her mind it sounds like Thys. « You can complain and stay here, or you can come with me and mine to swim in the lake. The choice is yours, Morizanth, but you will be the first to venture there. » "She's still hurting," Thys says quietly in response to Syn, nodding at the weyrling with a pained expression of her own. "We're out to stretch her limbs, since it's not good to just be cooped up in the infirmary. Plus, she adores weyrlings. Especially when there are eggs brewing in her belly." Not that it's showing yet, but… well, Thys is hopeful, despite what rumours and bets may be going around the lower caverns. "We do have excellent Dragonhealers here, but… I would appreciate a second opinion, if your father has free time? I'll compensate him for his visit, of course, and I can arrange time for you with him if you would like? Perhaps he can help you through your early teething issues - I've always found it surprising how Dragonhealers can sometimes know even more about your lifemate than you do, yourself."

There might be a bristle for that laughter, a haughty tensing of green limbs, claws digging into the ground… But Morizanth thinks on that. She thinks a lot, young mind much more open than it will be later in life, pros and cons of being nice and getting something versus being rude and losing out weighed in faerie lights that flicker on, illuminating the inner mechanics of her thought process. Finally, there comes a gusty sigh, the noise blowing out the little lights like candles on a cake, but she rises with slow stretches, as though this were suddenly what she was going to do all along. « Very well. I shall accompany you. » Syn has been listening in - it shows in her sudden smirk, blue eyes too bright with mirth considering they're discussing an injured gold, chin dipping in a series of nods. "It's unfortunate she's still in pain, but it's good she's mobile enough to get out. I know I'm happy to see her, even if that might not be the popular opinion." She gives an indicating headtilt towards her lifemate, though the mention of her father having time turns her smile a little plastic, maintained by sheer force of will. "He doesn't, probably, but he'll make time because your dragon is important, and I will ask him to. He can stitch up torn wings of big dumb dragons that try to fly with drunken riders on their backs some other day. He works at Ista," she explains, all mirth. "Still, that would be nice, to get to talk to him about it a bit. If nothing else, maybe his dragon and Morizanth can have a smarm-off; if she wins or loses, she'll still be more tolerable than she is to day." Which, speaking of… "But Rhenesath is amazing. She's really interested in visiting the lake." It's progress, she'll take it! There's a moment's distraction, brows furrowing as the weyrling peers towards the bowl proper, seeking the source of a voice on the wind or perhaps just a tingling of her Spidey-senses… but, finding nothing, she shrugs and turns back to Thys with a sweeping gesture. "Lead the way?"

Perhaps it's just as well Rhenesath is especially slow-moving due to her ongoing recovery, because otherwise little Morizanth wouldn't be able to keep up! Thys keeps pace with Syn, and there is undoubtedly conversation about Dragonhealers, amazing lifemates, and Faranth knows what else between the two as they walk and watch their dragons swim.

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