So It Goes
Who I'rly, Thys
What Weyrlings are so cute. <3
When Autumn-Winter, Turn 2711
Where Training Complex, Fort Weyr

thysicon1.png ibbycon1.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.


It's not exactly early morning, but what it is, is sharding sleeting. Low clouds dim the whole Weyr, but not even sleet can stop the Weyrling requirements for exercise. Today, it looks like two of them are — racing? Kralkth has a handicap of one hind leg not touching the ground, but he's neck and neck with I'rly, who doesn't exactly fight fair. The human of the weyrling pair dives sideways, an attempt to throw the brown off by forcing him to come to a stop, but he just jumps right over her. « Hah! Try harder! » The dragon's laughter broadcasts further than his voice, grating metal and ominous hissing shadows. I'rly slows, beaten, puffing only a little in the dismal sleet. "Yeah, whatever." She laughs, waving a gloved hand and continuing the cool-down.

Sleet. Gross. Thankful for an umbrella to hide beneath and a bit winter coat to keep her warm, Thys can just be seen towards the entryway into the weyrlings' area, watching the goings-on. Rhenesath joins her shortly after, limping less now - at long last - and with her dragon by her side the junior weyrwoman makes her way over to where the brown pair are catching their breath. "That was quite an impressive jump, Kralkth," she complements the dragon, who Rhenesath greets with a warm puff of breath and a lowering of her muzzle to bump gently against his neck. "And quite an impressive run, too, I'rly. Do you still go by Ibby? Or is it only I'rly now?"

Ibby's eyes widen almost comically at Thys's approach, with Rhenesath in tow. "Kralkth." She mutters, sharp, and the brown wheels around to join her, neck arched impressively. « Hrmph. » The younger dragon grunts, but it's pleased — probably, given the relatively subtle dust and desolation. "He means thank you —" « No. I don't. » "Really. You're looking well!" That is directed to the gold, a little sympathetic. Kralkth eyes the larger dragon warily, but for once doesn't give in to the temptation to do something horridly rude. "Ibby! Although, I guess I'rly, if you want." She makes a face, amused and a little chagrined, scuffing sleet off her face with the back of her hand. "How have you been, ma'am?"

Rhenesath chuffs in amusement at the smaller dragon, craning her neck down and stretching out her wings - one more than the other, as the strain in one still causes a flash of red-whirling pain when she stretches it too far. Thys reaches for her dragon's foreleg, pressing her hand against it comfortingly. "We've been recovering," she replies to the weyrling, looking from her lifemate to her. "Rhenesath's getting much better, though it's been slower than we would have liked." Thys doesn't look entirely satisfied with the results she relays, as she shrugs her shoulders and forces a smile. "And yourself? How does being a weyrling compare to looking after Silver?"

« Got yourself in a pickle, didn't ya? Aw, you'll make it. » Kralkth's got I'rly's memories backing his up — and whatever her feelings on Kle's catch (fear, mostly, for both dragons), Kralkth is all amusement. He isn't even repentant when Ibby whirls, poking him hard in a sensitive spot between his neck and chest. "It's not funny, dumbass." She grumbles, and turns back around, expression apologetic. "I imagine it would be. Does Fort have decent dragonhealers?" The weyrling squints, suspicious. "I know a few good ones, if you need. I'm glad to see Rhenesath up and walking, though. Probably good for both of you." Ibby huffs, then glances back at her dragon again, face scrunching up. How does it compare. "Shells. It's, uh. It's something. He's the stubbornest person, dragon, thing I've ever known." Counting herself! And her cousins! Shells.

For her part? Rhenesath has hardly any memory of the incident. Her mind is very much baby-filled; little weyrlings, eggs, the heat of the Sands… that's where her mind is. When a flood of images fill her mind, flick-book fast, they're clearly put there by Thys. « So it goes, » she replies, the equivalent of a mental shrug offered along with the scent of a forge - fire and melted metal. "We have wonderful dragonhealers, who have been doing a spectacular job. It's just that she's pretty huge, and carrying weight on three legs is… difficult." Rhenesath is a pretty stocky dragon, after all. There's nothing slender about her in any way. Like Thys, really… who has grown plumper since the Hatching. And I'rly's 'up and walking' comment makes her blush a little, as she crosses an arm conciously over her tummy. Moving on rapidly! "I understand that a few of you have had problems with headstrong lifemates? I'm sure the weyrlingstaff is helping you along with that… I have to admit, Rhenesath was exceptionally easy, save for the odd clumsy moment. She's just… well. The love of my life doesn't even come close, as I'm sure you understand."

« Smart. » Kralkth's compliment is little more than a grunt, but better than most get; dust and sunlight gone vibrant through haze. He approves of the nonchalance. I'rly shoots him a look over her shoulder; not grateful, maybe surprised. "I imagine so. Plus, she's growing." Which, if Ibby's noticed Thys's own growth, she has enough tact not to comment, save for a curious kind of raised-eyebrow look for the protective stance. Still, she'll let it drop, perhaps exhausted of her ability to argue, with Kralkth as a lifemate. "Hmm." She chuffs a laugh, but moves on, face scrunching up into a ridiculous contortion. "The staff are fine. Our dragons, well. They're a little." Defective? Off? Whercrap crazy? "Much. She seems like a great dragon." Ibby smiles up at the gold, but her eyes settle on Kralkth, thoughtful. She's quiet for a moment, then shrugs, affecting nonchalance. "He's alright, I guess." Kralkth snorts.

"Oh, she's the best. As I'm sure Kralkth is to you." Thys has seen enough weyrlings and the lifemates to recognise certain looks, and she smiles understandingly at Ibby. She gets it. Her brown eyes slide over to Kralkth, and she runs her gaze appraisingly over his form. "He's building muscle well, isn't he? Certainly his father's son… and I suppose if that rings true, then he'll likely chase Rhenesath in the future." One of her brows raise up, and she smirks as she looks back at I'rly. "If you'd allow him to, of course. I'm going to assume you'll probably prevent him from chasing Morizanth?"

The understanding smile gets a huff and what would be a hair-toss if she had more hair. Emotions! Right. "He's not as pretty as my brother's dragon." She scoffs, playful, eyes cutting back to the brown. « Pretty! » Kralkth breaks out howling winds and stinging dust, offended beyond words. I'rly snickers, pleased with herself, and makes the face again. "He's bulking up like I'm sharding doing something to help it! He eats less than Kamysth! Shells. Hah." The speculation on chases gets a narrow-eyed look for the brown, and a shrug. "Shells, he'll certainly have the size for it, I suppose. Sharding big lump. Faranth!" Maybe it hasn't actually occurred to her that her cousin's dragon is green, and unlike Foryth, will rise. A little color drains from her cheeks. "…yeah. Uh. I've got family in Xanadu. Ista. Good to go home every once in a while."

"Yes, it is good to go home every so often." Thys nods, shifting her umbrella from one hand to the other. Her expression shifts, though there's enough of an attempt to keep it neutral that her exact thoughts aren't visible. She sighs softly, then forces a little smile. "Rhenesath will welcome him, if he chases her. She's especially fond of browns." Her hand reaches out to stroke along the gold's foreleg, and she tilts her umbrella so she can look lovingly up at her dragon. "We must get going; Rhenesath needs to feed, and it's a little less graceful than usual what with her being grounded and all… that's something you'll have to look forward, soon enough." Now her smile reaches her eyes, genuine and warm. "Take care of yourselves, Ibby, Kralkth. And of each other. It's been a pleasure seeing you both."

"What is it, four times a turn? At least that." I'rly agrees, vehement. "It'll be more than I have in turns, but I've got a lot of family." With any luck, Mori will give her plenty of warning, so she can flee like a little bird with Kralkth in tow. The weyrling glances back from giving her dragon a LOOK, catches the shifting expressions. There's curiosity — but still the tact holds. "Hah. Ah, shells. I'm not sure he wouldn't eat any candidates, actually." The paleness persists, stubborn; ah, the joys of dragonriding. At least hers is brown, and she has some ability to push him around come That Time. I'rly winces for the gold's luck with hunting, lifting a hand in farewell. "Good luck with the hunt, then. Kralkth's got an eye for tactics, if you need help herding them." She offers, shaking her head; somewhere between amused and chagrined at what the future holds. JOY. "And you both, as well, ma'am. I hope Rhenesath continues to heal quickly!" The weyrling grins, matching smile for smile, before she turns back to do the post-run check on Kralkth's health.


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