'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

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


It's a dreary winter's day, though the morning's rains have abated this afternoon, and shafts of weak winter sunlight even peek through from time to time - only to decide that Fort isn't to their taste right now, and move on to warm another part of Pern. Kimmila is there, standing on the other side of the training field, away from the obstacle course. Varmiroth is with her, straps on, the small blue's muzzle hovering over Kimmila's head and his eyes spinning with flecks of yellow that betray his concern and worry. Until Kimmila shoves his muzzle away, and then he just looks insulted, flopping into the snow with a snort.

Are the bowls half full of water or half empty by now? D'ani hasn't come to a decision on that yet, but abating rains are a very welcome thing, even if it is still overcast. Footsteps heavy with the load of straps he's got coiled over one shoulder, he's slogging though the slush and mud, he walks beside Dremkoth, exercising both mental and physical restraint on the adventuresome bronzeling. Of course his hand-grasp on that neckridge would do little to keep him from scampering off to inspect something if he really took a notion to. "This is a step in having those adventures you want," he says firmly in response to something his lifemate has said. He reaches the spot where Kimmila stands a little ahead of the others and, having noted the bits of yellow in Varmiroth's eyes, asks as he salutes, "Are you well, Kimmila?" Which is something he's beginning to wonder more often these days. Dremkoth utters a cheerful warble in greeting to the blue.

For her part, Kouzevelth seems decidedly displeased at the cessation of rain, and so anyone within mental range will periodically get hit right in the brain with the occasional downpour. Inri, though, seems to be enjoying it; she's content to spend time outside now that there's no actual water falling from the sky. "No," she's telling her lifemate as they head over, Kouzevelth now easily larger than a horse and completely throwing Inri's sense of balance as she turns to look at her when she walks (they grow way, way too fast, these dragons), "we /are/ learning things, they're just not the things you want to learn right now, you have to wait." There's an audible snort as the gold steps up alongside Dremkoth to watch Varmiroth curiously. Is that comfortable?

Abigail has dealt with a rather muddy brown dragon most of the day, Niumdreoth has managed to find ever mud puddle in the training area, along with find them he has danced, rolled, splashed and sloshed in them sending water and mud flying at anyone nearby. In the end Abbey was finally able to get him under control, and cleaned the mud off along with giving him a good oiling, which of course means he found /another/ mud puddle as soon as he was squeaky clean and shiny. "I can't believe ye. Ye was /clean/" Though now off they go, heading after the other werylings, she has the straps in hand that she has been working on, and feeling rather good about them. Niumdreoth follows at her side, and soon spots another muddy puddle, his eyes swirl and he croons out, there is a slight wiggle across his form that slides all the way down to the end of his tail. "Don't ye dare." Abbey says with a firm tone along with a half glower at her dragon, Niumdreoth snorts out, head lowering while he follows along. Soon enough they are with the others, in line to see what all shall be done today.

Kimmila lifts her gaze to peer at D'ani and Dremkoth as they approach, and her mouth opens, lips twisting into a characteristic smirk. But for whatever reason she changes her mind and looks at him for a moment, before she nods. "I am, thank you," she replies, softly spoken. Behind her Varmiroth rumbles, but a quick look from her has him silenced. The blue's mindscape flickers with solar flares across the night, briefly casting light on the landscape below - this time, parched earth and jagged stone. As the weyrlings approach though, he pulls his emotions back in check, flicking a paint-soaked brush over the sky to make patterns of brightly colored, pulsing stars. « Today is an exciting day. » Kimmila nods, returning salutes with just a wave of her right hand, before it's shoved back into the pocket of her jacket. "No tricks or games or anything today," she says, and she sounds apologetic about it too. "Just checking your straps and then you all can mount up for the first time." There's a faint smirk on her lips, but she forces it back. Now is not the time for dirty jokes.

It's genuine concern in the depths of those brown eyes of his that Kimmila will see, mingled with the acceptance that she may not wish to say one way or the other in public. Dremkoth passes on the desolate landscape to his lifemate without understanding what evokes it in the mind of the blue while D'ani gives their instructor a keen look. His mouth twists briefly in a worried grimace, forced into a smile that includes both Inri and Abigail as they join them. Dremkoth has latched onto that nightsky, excited before he's heard the plan. Phosphorescent greens shot with red ripples across Varmiroth's night sky as he lifts his head to peer at the blue and bubble a hopeful, « We go outside this cup of rock to see the world outside? » D'ani, it seems, is ready for this inspection, easing the harness looped over his shoulder onto both hands and held in front of him so Kimmila can see them.

"I've only fixed mine a thousand times," Inri laments, soft and under her breath; it's loud enough to be heard by anyone near her, though. She wouldn't want to be completely inaudible: then, what is the point of even speaking? While knitting is her thing, though, apparently sewing and tannery aren't — her straps are servicable, sure, but they've obviously been a serious work in progress. Kouzevelth is silent, but fascinated at first and then contributory by adding a soft, distant crash of something that is either thunder or waves off in the corner of the skies.

Niumdreoth seems thrilled at the images he is getting from Varmiroth, he offers in his own images of a wintery forest with fresh blanket of snow across it, a slight warble escapes him. « Do we get to go explore more, new areas? » Abigail offers a smile and salute to Kimmila, along with a warm smile to both D'ani and Inri. She lets a hand softly rest against Nium's head, rubbing a moment. At the talk of the straps getting checked she nods too this. "Sounds like a great thing to me." She keeps hold of the straps she has been working on, which don't look that bad; it could possible do better, and is expecting to be told that. "It's alright, I've sure all of us did it about that many times as well." Abbey offers with a soft tone to Inri to try and make her feel better on the whole strap idea it seems.

Kimmila takes a slow breath, pushing hair away from her face and seeming to be considering something. But in the end she just smiles. "I'd like you to put them on your lifemates please," she says, reaching back to rub a hand over Varmiroth's muzzle. It eases the blue, and he exhales long and slow, yellow vanishing from his eyes. "So we can watch, and then I'll check." « No, » Varmiroth replies to the questions with a long sigh. « We do not. Not for a while. A long while. We are stuck here. Except straight flights, but mine doesn't always feel like that… » And another sigh. And he might have misunderstood the question. Kimmila can't help but chuckle softly at the talk of redoing straps. "Varmiroth here has an artist's eye and an artist's frustration when work is not up to his standards. I guarantee I made his straps more times than all of you put together. Even now, at any moment he could take a sudden dislike to his straps, and I'll have to do them over again. Though I do have the time, now…" she muses with a small frown. Cryptic much?

"That's what makes you learn how to do them right," comforts D'ani in an aside to Inri, nodding in agreement with Abigail. Many tries indeed! He continues wryly, "You should have seen my first attempts to do oxen harness back at Beastcraft. The instructor gave them to the canines as a chew-toy." His experience in working leather for beastcraft may have helped ensure his selection of leather is of good quality and the condition of the finish and stitching is fine, but the design and reading of schematics is another thing. Whether they are a proper fit remains to be seen. He nods and gets to following orders, draping those straps over Dremkoth's back to keep them from dragging in the mud. The bronze sighs his audible disappointment over not exploring, once again passing the entire commentary of Varmiroth's over to his lifemate. The rattle-clink of buckles and clips pauses as D'ani turns a blink over his shoulder, eyes flickering over Kimmila's form in what might pass as a lightning-fast inspection of a prize runner and nothing near the sort of suggestive appraisal many men would attempt of a lovely woman such as she. Oh no! He'd rather not get punched, thankyouverymuch. But he does come to some sort of conclusion, which might explain the slow grin that curves his mouth and the lazy, half-lidded eyes that hide the merriment dancing in them. "Congratulations?" he guesses, then ducks around the little bronze - both as a shield and to hide the smirk he's wearing.

Kouzevelth rumbles appreciation; of what might not be entirely clear to everyone, but to Inri it's apparent that what she approves of is Varmiroth's discerning taste — this sentiment, wordless, is passed along to the blue as well. He's a sensible type, clearly. "Or commiserations and apologies, depending on how you feel about it," she chimes in along with D'ani, having had similar suspicions. "Or, y'know, sorry about whatever's not taking up your time that /isn't/ that. I don't want to pry." Today. Right now. Or, really, she doesn't want to pry to someone who /could/ be considered an authority figure even if she doesn't always act like one and wants to be called by her name; Inri pretty much always wants to pry to some extent. "And Kouzevelth tries to chew 'em herself, sometimes. The rejected ones. I should give them to Dura, that's a good idea."

Abigail ponders a moment while her gaze settles on Kimmila, something is well off so to speak with the other woman, she's studied plenty of people for different reasons over the past turns, guard training may have something to do with it. She clears her throat, a slight nod seen along with a smile. "Alright." Abbey is not one to go prying; she doesn't like it when people try it on her after all. If she doesn't want to talk about it and people poke and prod she tends to get rather grumpy to say the least. Niumdreoth was ever so nice to pass on what Varmiroth comments and Abbey can't help but send a curious glance back towards Kimmila. While D'ani and Inri go about offering up comments she on the other hand does not and works on getting the straps she has made on Niumdreoth. The brown wiggles about, not wanting to hold still, straps and buckles clank against one another from his movement. "I've made harnesses for mine search canines before, though this is a bit more structure wise, more pieces to work with." « They itch. » Niumdreoth offers his thoughts on the straps which Abbey doesn't have on fully yet, as she is working on getting clumps of mud off that are still clinging to his skin. "No it is the mud you went rolling in."

Kimmila was about to walk forward towards D'ani to check his straps, but she stops at his words. And blinks at him. "Congratulations?" Though the tell-tale downward eye flick towards her stomach should be enough giveaway, and then she sighs. The ruse is up? "Not sure if that's the right term, but…thanks," she says with a slightly strained smile, which is offered to Inri as well. Varmiroth croons. « She hates having a… » pause, while he gets the right word from his lifemate, « parasite in her. » How lovely. « And I do not like that we are stuck here! » Huff.

Well, when there's a tattletail of a dragon letting slip pertinent information, no prying is necessary. It's just a matter of connecting the dots, so-to-speak. Though the picture D'ani is getting might be off, so his facetious guess might just be askew. But no, Kimmila's confirming it in a manner he's never quite encountered before. What to say to that? He's been around for his mother's pregnancies and he wouldn't wish it on any woman, even though, yeahno, he wasn't in the cot for those births. But what wouldn't he give to be a v’tol on her wall to see the stiff and self-contained Th'ero deal with a squalling newborn! Still he's wise enough not to try to convince her to rethink what to call the developing life inside her. He ducks to renew his harnessing of Dremkoth, bending to draw the girth strap under and fasten the three buckles of that snugly. He's deviated from the schematics a bit, affixing a chest strap to the collar plate that runs along the bronze's belly to fork and encircle the base of his tail and rejoin, two straps clip to that and run in a V to the small saddle pad is. Maybe it's overkill? He has no idea. But that saddle isn’t going anywhere!

« It does not sound pleasant, » Kouzevelth agrees with Varmiroth, and manages to be vague as to which she means; is it being stuck at the Weyr, which she has previously never had a problem with, or the idea of carrying around an embryo or twelve? Hopefully it's not the second, because otherwise Inri is in for some trouble in the future convincing her she's actually required to. The former barmaid also looks a little bit guilty; it's not usually the best to guess before someone says, after all. "Wow. Efficient enough, D'ani?" she teases.

Niumdreoth is one to latch onto words, and parasite is the new one it seems. « Parasite in her? » The brown is peering at Kimmila, his head tilting and he warbles out looking confused. Though while he does this Abigail is able to finish getting the straps on. Buckles are fastened down, a few straps tightened and then pushed and pulls a in a few directions to make them lay smoother across the browns skin. "Don't question that right now Niumdreoth. » Or well anytime, though not at the moment for sure, as Abbey gets the feeling it is not a good subject. Once she is happy with how the straps look she brushes her hands off and smiles to her dragon. "Told ye it wouldn't be that bad." Nium turns his attention to the leather straps on him, he wiggles about, his wings stretching out a few times before he seems content. « Still itch. » Though he is still covered in mud so perhaps that explains the itches.

Kimmila resumes her forward walk, intending to refocus on the task at hand and not her pregnancy. Though Varmiroth watches her closely as she moves, the adoring blue always attentive to his lifemate. And despite his distaste of being stuck in the weyr, there is a bit of him that's….dawwww, baby! "Interesting design," Kimm muses as she approaches Dremkoth. And with the bronze's permission, she'll begin to check the straps over carefully. Expert fingers run along seams, give buckles a tug, and even peek into the pouches. "Huh!" she remarks, "these are bigger on the inside than they look…That's convenient." With a crooked grin, she circles the small bronze and in the end, gives D'ani a nod. "Nice job, I can tell you've worked with leather before in the Beastcraft. Go ahead and mount up," she says, smiling, before she turns to walk towards Abigail. "Ready?" « Yes, » Varmiroth answers, even though Abigail told Niumdreoth not to ask. « She's got a baby in her tummy. »

Meetings adjourned and no patrols to report on means a certain Weyrleader has some time to spare. And what better way than to drop by, yet again, to make note on the progress of the Weyrlings. Perhaps too, Th'ero is intending to check in on M'icha to be certain all the rains and damp weather are not hindering the Weyrlingmaster too much. So he is both surprised and yet not to find Kimmila busily inspecting the straps of a few of the Weyrlings, nor to find them all outdoors now that the skies have cleared. Velokraeth comes by not long after the bronzerider strides in, though the pale bronze politely removes himself to a nearby ledge to observe from above and also rest and off of his stunted limbs. He also knows nothing of the conversation or the news just shared, completely oblivious for now as he approaches, "Afternoon," he calls out in a polite tone.

D'ani is standing at attention beside Dremkoth's right shoulder, in the shadow of the bronze's partially-furled wings while the half-grown dragon snuffles at the straps, deciding whether he likes the feel of them or not. He's dimly aware this is in preparation for flying but that's a long ways off and right now he's shrugging and shifting restlessly. Mount up, Kimmila says and so D’ani uses the few footloops in the leather ladder-like mounting straps he's made and swings aboard, leaning to roll it up and snap a thong of leather to keep it out of the way. It feels much like riding an ox at this point as the bronzelet isn't much larger than one. As he settles into the saddle pad, Dremkoth sidesteps, lashing his tail. This, of course causes that tailstrap to pull a bit and it's enough to make the young bronze snort and dance forward while peering underneath his belly. « This feels… ugh! Weird! » pinwheels of perplexed clouds that blot out moonlight. "Easy! Easy! Whoaaaa…! " D'ani is soothing in vain as his lifemate gambols across the field, likely trying to wriggle out of the thing. Somehow, telling him he'd be wearing the straps did little to prepare the dragon for actual sensation, go figure!

As Kimmila moves on to Niumdreoth next, Kouzevelth fusses where she's standing again, pawing at the snow and leaving thin lines in it. She's not really one for waiting, though thankfully Velokraeth's timing is such that any irritation the gold might've expressed becomes a non-issue — she is disrtracted by her sire's arrival and lifts her head up higher to bugle at him. "Ow I /needed/ that ear," Inri gripes, and bats at Kouzevelth's snout; hard enough to be uncomfortable but not hard enough to hurt, rather like with a runnerbeast. Not that it'd be easy to smack a gold dragon and get much of a reaction, but she's little yet. "Weyrleader. Hi."

Niumdreoth turns his gaze over to Varmiroth at the answer from the blue instead of his lifemate. « Really?? She does not like the idea, reason why she calls it a parasite? » One just has to love the curious questionable mind of the young. "Niumdreoth." Abigail grumbles out to try and get his attention back on the subject at hand. She looks over the straps, tugging one a bit more to the right which to her looks more in place. The straps are rather standard looking, nothing fancy here, but workable, the stitches are good, buckles in about the right spots. Hearing Kimmila, Abigail looks up and nods with a smile. "Yes'em." Is offered rather hoping Kimmila isn't being told what Niumdreoth is questioning at the moment. Abigail looks over towards D'ani and Demkoth as they take off so to speak and she blinks, a slight grin seen. The movement of the bronze does catch Nium's attention and he warbles. « Can we go as well?? » Abbey doesn't offer him a verbal answer in the moment; instead a salute is seen to Th'ero. "Hello." Niumdreoth stands quietly, his tail wiggling about as he wants for Kimmila to look him over.

Varmiroth springs to his feet and croons after Dremkoth, loping along after the baby bronze. « Stop moving, » he says, the order gently given, « or D'ani might fall off. Easy. » Kimmila watches in surprise at Dremkoth's reaction, having stepped out of the way just before the show started. Bucking bronzes? Green gaze flicks to Th'ero, and she winces a little bit. There's that guilty look again. Is anything ever easy between them? Approaching Niumdreoth, Kimmila begins to check his straps with a small smile as Varmiroth relays his question to her. "When I say you can," she murmurs. "You can walk with him around the bowl," she says, giving Abigail a look. Walk. Just around the bowl. Not cavorting about like a wild stallion. CoughDremkothCough.

Like for nearly every lesson, it takes Eirwyn a bit of coaxing to get Xucieth to decide it is worth their time. Finally the pair do emmerge from the barracks, the straps in place with Eirwyn walking alongside and working on one of the buckles as the green casually moves into place. «We can start now.» She declares and glances around at her siblings who are already far more ready then she is and gives a little huff of disdain. Eirwyn shakes her head as she continues to check the straps and buckles. For her part it is a basic set, the strapping resemble runner saddles with a bit of passable decorative tool marks…well it looks like someone wanted to recreate fancy runner saddle work, but has little artistic skill in the area. Xucieth is of course fidgeting during the whole process. As the bronze starts galloping around, Xucieth actually settles her fidgetting as if she never did it, «Silly bronze, it is just straps.» Eirwyn looks up at the green with a sigh of exasperation and just shakes her head and turns to the Riders to await the inspection.

Velokraeth turns and lowers his great, oversized head down in response to Kouzevelth's bugle of greeting. And while he can't physically chuckle, the pale bronze expresses it enough in other ways, from posture to a gentle mental impression — a fleeting brush really — across all minds, though stronger to the young gold as she is the cause. « Good afternoon to you as well, » he drawls in a mellow and rich voice. Th'ero slows to a stop, the Weyrleader choosing a spot not far off from the side but close enough to observe casually. Inri's greeting is met with a sidelong look and a vague smile. "Afternoon, Inri." And when she bats at the young gold, he quirks a brow. "Kouzevelth is doing well? Are you not suiting up for the exercise as well?" he asks. Abigail and Niumdreoth are glanced to next, a brisk nod given to both as his same polite but reserved greeting is voiced, though it ends in a slight smile again for the brown's obvious restlessness. The Dremkoth is off, with D'ani along for the ride whether the Weyrling wants to be or not. Th'ero begins to move, but Varmiroth is faster (and probably more effective) and the Weyrleader can only watch, grimacing. Velokraeth? Is laughing is boxy rear-end off and this time the bronze is making low chuffing noises to follow the mental sweep. Kimmila's greeting of a guilty look has Th'ero puzzled for a moment and then his head seems to tilt a little to the side and his gaze drops for the barest of seconds before honing in again on her pointedly. Oh. Isn't his timing just perfect? Clearing his throat slightly, he says nothing and by then Eirwyn and Xucieth have stepped in closer and he turns instead to give both a brisk greeting as well. "Afternoon."

It's really only about two dozen writhing paces that Dremkoth takes before Varmiroth's command causes talons to dig into the soft mud and send him into a skid that turns the young bronze sideways and then into a curve that leaves him faced back the way he came. Okay that extra belly strap helped (?) and the saddle didn't budge. But D'ani has been rattled to and fro despite his firm seat, ending up on the young bronze's neckridges at the very end there. Guess what he's forgotten to construct in his straps and saddlepad? Yep, that's right, handgrips! His next set will have them though! Dremkoth curves his neck around to poke D'ani's chest with his muzzle and thereby re-situate his butt on that saddlepad, then he tilts his clutchsister a look and whuffs darkly, « I am not silly. They… ickle… tich… something. » His shoulder skin twitches and he noses at the strap there, jaws parting. His front teeth are an inch away when- "Don't. You. DARE." comes from D'ani. The bronze's intent goes from nip and pluck to sheepish in a flash. "Just. Walk." Disgruntled, the weyrling's cheeks are flushed as they slog back though the mud to where he's close enough to greet the Weyrleader with a hail of, "Afternoon Weyrleader." He foregoes adding anything like 'pops' or 'dad' like he'd really like to, but the smirky-grin says it all. He'll find a creative, respectful way to congratulate him later.

"I think that — Kimmila," Okay, so Inri still isn't very good at the whole 'not calling authority figures by titles' thing and still gets awkward about it; she does manage to call Dtirae by first name, but only because she'd been taught to do so before she was even a candidate, "Wanted to see me actually get them /on/ her, especially since she's kinda a challenge to do that with. Before letting me go up." At least she'd even remembered to bring her straps. Kouzevelth is watching Dremkoth go, and then watching Dremkoth stop, and lashing her tail back and forth a little. It's exciting!

Abigail offers a soft smile to Kimmila once the answer is given. "See? Told ye so." Is offered with a soft murmur to the brown. As the all clear is given and the comment to /walk/ is pointed out a soft ah escapes her. "Yes, walk. No problem. Thank you." This is said to Kimmila before she turns her attention to Niumdreoth. "We can /walk/ no running around?" Maybe if it is voiced it will carry more weight for the rather eager young dragon. While Niumdreoth is eager to get to it (he can't be shown up by Dremkoth after all), he does offer a greeting back to Velokraeth, a friendly warble that ends in a faint bugle of a call. His mind images are a wintery forest once more, with soft floating colors of green and blue within the dark start light sky. With the ok given for the walk around Abigail goes about using the straps and getting into place upon Niumdreoth, the brown even lowers his head, though his back end is wiggling about still antsy. Once straps are in place there off! "Remember walk, or we're have to stop." The warning is enough to keep Niumdreoth walking at least. Though she does catch sight of Eirwyn, she gives her friend a slight finger wave, glad she was able to make it out for the lesson.

Kimmila turns her head and smiles a small smile of greeting for Eirwyn and Xucieth, glancing at the green's straps before her attention returns to Nium. And once his straps are cleared, she gives Abigail a smile and nod. "Go ahead on up." And she turns to Inri next, approaching her and the young gold. "Go ahead and put them on her." Glancing at Th'ero once more, her cheeks color slightly - is that a /blush/?! - and then she's ducked behind Kouzevelth. When D'ani and Dremkoth return, the bluerider gives them both a wide, warm smile. "Gotta work the kinks out." And Varmiroth pads back along with the young bronze, wuffling happily and amused both. « Itch, » he supplies helpfully. « You get used to it. Those are needed for traveling. » Woe. He can't travel.
The greeting from the Weyrleader has Eirwyn looking up quickly and blushing brightly. "Sorry we are late.." She says as she sets of a salute to the Weyrleader. As she waits for the inspection, the weyrling turns back to inspecting to straps of her green. While she has mostly stopped fidgeting as a show of 'maturity' to her other siblings, Xucieth's tail flicks back and forth and it is not too long before her attention goes to Abigail's brown. «Are you going to follow the bronze, it seems such an interesting way to get the straps settled.» Really is she going to stir? Of course she is and that poor brown and Harmony's blue seem to often be her favorite target.

Inri shoots Kimmila another salute — this time, it's not the kind that goes with a greeting rather than the sort that's an acknowledgement. Putting straps that are not the best made ever — effective, but not attractive — on a dragon that's made of ungainly limbs, huge wings, and an overly-long neck really is a challenge, and there's some climbing and scrabbling and gentle repeated relocation of Kouzevelth's head (which takes most of Inri's body pressed against the side of her neck to accomplish) before she can get them set. Finally, though, she's pulling everything taut and giving the dragon a once-over. "She's doing pretty good otherwise, though, calming down a lot," Inri finishes answering Th'ero's question and then looks back at Kimmila, waiting for approval. Kouzevelth sits back on her haunches and holds her head up, going back into one of her statuesque poses in order to provide the best possible model.

"A challenge? How?" Th'ero's attention has drifted back to Inri for her response, lingering long enough for him to give the young gold a cursory glance and look over. But just the implication that there may be something more to it has the Weyrleader's focus… at least until it's pulled away again as Niumdreoth now moves off to take his first steps with Abigail mounted up on the straps and Velokraeth's returned greeting sounding almost like an encouraging rumble to the pair. Th'ero does look relieved though when Dremkoth finally comes to a stop, if not less-than gracefully. His grimace may be a touch sympathetic too for D'ani, especially when the weyrling has to warn off his bronze from making short work of the straps. "Afternoon, D'ani." he says when greeted, though there's a slightly suspicious narrowing of his eyes. He knows that he knows? Either way, any congratulations will be met by much… awkward, most likely. Not entirely missing Kimmila's blush as she ducks around Kouzevelth, Th'ero's gaze just happens to dart back to Eirwyn. Cough. "Well, you are here now. And it would seem just in time." he drawls, as the green weyrling is cleared to go.

Just as soon as Eirwyn relaxes that Xucieth is going to behave, mostly, and her attention is elsewhere the green decides she has had enough of this today. She turns and ambles back into the barracks. «Let me know when the boys are ready.» Comes an almost disdainful mindvoice from the green which has Eirwyn turning and chasing after the problematic dragon, "Xucieth!" She calls out as she chases after her lifemate, "Get back here!" The calls seem to fall on deaf ears and the weyrling disapears into the barracks once more!

Niumdreoth continues onwards, walkwalking as he is told to do! Then there is the idea from Xucieth which makes the brown tilt his head. « You think so? » An while the green loves too target him he seems to walk right into that trap every time. His tail lashes while he walks along, seeming to weight his options before he starts to pick up the pace some, which causes his dear rider to bounce about a bit more from the movement. Abigail didn't catch the lovely idea from Xucieth, though the quicker movement is indeed felt if nothing else. "No, wait walk, walk only!" Which at first doesn't work and the two go about in a circle in a half romping pace. This last for a few moments until Abigail is able to get him to slow down to a walk once more. "Stop." Tone is firm, and no telling just what she is telling him that is unheard. Niumdreoth wiggles on his paws as he stops and then slowly moves forward at a walking pace once more. "Gona be so sore later." Abbey grumbles out to herself.

Kimmila steps forward and with Kouzevelth's and Inri's go ahead, she checks the gold's straps. "Nice job accounting for her different proportions," she murmurs. "Okay, you're all good," she adds, stepping back and motioning for the goldling to mount up and take their first walk together. And then she's turning to Eirwyn, smiling and approaching. "Ready for me to check?" But..Eirwyn is leaving? The bluerider frowns, but decides to give her a chance to corral her lifemate before any consequences are handed out. So she turns and looks around. "Everyone good?" That's everyone, right?

She doesn't actually say anything out loud, but Inri certainly smiles brightly enough at Kimmila's praise of her length improvisations to take care of any requirement for verbal commentary. Her mounting is — well, it's not neat, it's not elegant and it's not smooth or attractive, because Kouzevelth is no good at all at helping and the wings really do get in the way, but much like the straps it is functional. They'll definitely get better. (There's a lot of room to improve.) The walking part is definitely /more/ elegant than the mounting; Inri's balance is good and Kouzevelth actually moves slowly and cautiously in order to not unseat her lifemate.

Velokraeth is all different shades of amusement as Xucieth stalks off and Niumdreoth seems to follow Dremkoth's example, the bronze likely unaware of the green's influence in it. All he knows is that it's /worth/ coming out to observe them in their lessons. Th'ero on the other hand is having a harder time finding much amusement or laughter in any of it, which is not at all surprising. Brows lift up in surprise as Eirwyn rushes off to attempt to corral Xucieth and the Weyrleader's features twist into an unreadable expression then, but for a moment he looks… concerned. "Headstrong, that one is…" he murmurs and then he's glancing sharply to Niumdreoth as the brown begins to romp rather than walk. Not him too! The bronzerider sighs and suddenly does not envy M'icha at all or /any/ of the assistant Weyrlingmasters. "You are all going to have to be firmer with them now that the training is progressing. Injuries at this stage can be…" Devastating? "… a big drawback. You don't want to be held back weeks or months." he chides and shakes his head slightly, falling silent once more as Kimmila takes the lead in running the lesson.

Abigail is rather glad when Niumdreoth goes back to just walking, she isn't bouncing around as much. One thing she is going to want is the saddle area with a bit more padding may be needed to help with the bouncing steps. "Stay walking, don't listen to her understand?" Seems Niumdreoth passed on the news on the tempting ideas from Xucieth. Niumdreoth rumbles out and continues to walk. « It seemed like a good idea at the time, no one got hurt. » Abbey isn't about to answer that, and she does catch the comment of needed to use a firmer hand with the young dragons. "See what happens when ye don't listen?" This said softly to Nium. At least he is listening now.

Kimmila moves over to stand beside Th'ero, nodding her agreement with his words. "It's true," she agrees. "Now is the time to start exercising your control over them. While injuries are minor. Before they start flying. Betweening. It's teamwork yes, but you are the one with the better judgement," hopefully, "so you are the one that has to be in control." Her eyes unfocus briefly, and no doubt a licensed and insured member of the WLM Staff is going to seek out Eirwyn. "So control them. Make them walk." Killjoy. "Nice job, Inri," she adds. "Good, Abigail."

"Control," Inri repeats, sounding incredulous. "Over /her/." She looks down at Kouzevelth as the weyrling dragon walks, and back to all the others as they move to a stop again near where Dremkoth has settled. "That is not that easy. Like even a little. She barely listens to Aycheth sometimes." Which doesn't stop them from /looking/ very controlled, but — that's because Kouzevelth wants them to look good.

Th'ero takes a slow, deep inhale of air and exhales just as heavily when Niumdreoth seems to settle under Abigail's firm words and Inri and Kouzevelth are progressing… calmly. For now? The Weyrleader gives a nod of his head in agreement to Kimmila's additional words. Why wouldn't he agree? He's the ultimate killjoy, after all. Velokraeth's attention seems to have drifted towards the barracks as well, the bronze no longer so openly broadcasting amusement and has, for all appearances, gone silent and distracted. Inri's reply has Th'ero glancing at her sharply, a frown knitting his brows. "Yes, over her." he replies tersely, giving both weyrling and dragon a lingering look. "It will take a lot of patience and willpower and determination but you /must/ make them listen to instructions. From others, yes but most importantly /you/." he lectures again, grimacing a little. Ugh. Where's M'icha when you need him?