Dragon Only Flight - Clutch 53

Northeastern Bowl
The northeastern arc of the Weyr Bowl seems somewhat isolated from the rest of the weyr - with necessity, for this is the training grounds for young riders and dragons, the Weyrlings. The main entrance to the weyrling barracks is just north of here, and the ground there is well-trampled and firm, as if many feet, both human and dragon, have wandered over it dozens of times a day. Further up in the northwest corner of the bowl is the waterfall, tumbling out of the Weyr face several dragonlengths above, misting the area in a rainbow glow. On the south side of the bowl lie the ashpits and firestone supplies for the entire Weyr.

S'eron loves his clipboard. There is nary a day in which the AWLM is seen without it during weyrling activities. He's got a nice stick of charcoal on string so he can use it in the air without pelting groundwalkers with little bits of burnt tree. Strangely enough, S'eron's been out of commission for the last week. On his return, he's strangely /groomed/ for once. His hair is cut a little shorter and his face clean shaven. His clothes look clean and his neck is covered with HICKEYS. Oh, crap. He pretends they are not there and that he is not walking sore as he calls out to a weyrling or two for a lesson. "T'zyn? You here?"

"Maaaybe yes — I don't know — are you planning on torturing me again?" T'zyn eyes S'eron suspiciously as he scurries up to the AWLM at the sound of his name. "Hey. What's wrong with your neck? And why'd you change your hair?" The boy squints up at S'eron, curious.

"Nothing." S'eron mutters unappreciatively to the comments. He stares down at his clipboard until T'zyn is close enough to instruct. He lifts his gaze and raises an eyebrow. "Len says that two moons have passed. Is yours ready?"

T'ab looks rather gloomy still, at least he has for the past few days although he has been present for all the training. Tyroth on the other hand is joyfully bumping the man's back with his hide before happily striding toward the greenrider. "Hey sir." T'ab waves his hand a bit to note that he is present but otherwise just stands, the hand trailing up to the bronze's hide touching him softly.

"Nothing? You sure? That doesn't look like nothing." T'zyn pokes a finger in the direction of S'eron's neck. "Has someone been /eating you/?" Behind him, Nymerith comes bouncing happily along from the direction of the barracks. She looks bright and excited — that is hardly a surprise. « Readyreadyready! » Her sugary-sweet voice is all eager enthusiasm as she addresses Lenculoth.

« Good. Follow me. » Lenculoth is the picture of health and elegance as she starts walking closer to S'eron and stretching her wings before displaying them professionally to her lifemate, her mindvoice tinted with feminine notes and a sweet, romantic hum. S'eron is merely disgruntled. "He wasn't doing it right, whatever his intention was."

T'ab snorts a bit toward S'eron, his eyes seemingly scanning the man but then he just focuses on Tyroth. "You'll be next… or something, I promise you'll get a chance." He pats the bronze's side, who instead croons lovingly before nuzzling the man in return, « Hopefully this'll cheer you up my kind brother, to watch us spread our wings. »

T'zyn hesitates, baffled. "Wait, someone /did/ try to eat you?" His eyes widen. He flicks an utterly confused glance at T'ab, connecting the other weyrling's statement with S'eron's rather than with Lenculoth's. " — Tyroth's going to eat him, /too/?" His brow furrows, expression bewildered. Nymerith does not share any of her lifemate's confusion. She hops along after Lenculoth, spreading her wings in mimic of the much larger green.

"Yes, Tyroth will be next," Ron responds to T'ab's assumption as he heads over to Nymerith's side, reaching out and touching her wings as he inspects them, looking for strain or swelling. "And no. No one tried to eat me. I think the rider merely thought it would be arrousing, but he was sucking far too hard." He grumbles as he moves back to check Nym's feet quickly, making notes on his clipboard. Lenculoth remains in position, demonstrating good behavior.

Tyroth gives a delighted croon and waddles on his knobby legs as he watches the green do their stuff. "See, told you that you'd be up, no worries bro." T'ab's solemn expression turns to a slight smirk and even a little chuckle to the greenrider's comments, although he seems to be attempting to maintain his moody look. Grumpy.

"Suck— /oh/." T'zyn blushes, nose wrinkling. He looks over at Lenculoth, and then back to S'eron. "Is that why she's so good-mood-y today?" He frowns at the other two men. "— Why are /you/ both so /bad/moody?" His eyes widen again and he peers suspiciously at T'ab, now, looking between the bronzeling and S'eron's hickies. "— it wasn't /you/, was it?" He sounds perhaps faintly horrified. Nymerith is mostly just antsy, not as still and good-behavior-ish as Lenculoth, though she takes care at least not to fidget and risk hurting S'eron while he inspects her feet. Well, at least not to fidget /much/.

"Faranth no!" S'eron rounds Nymerith's wing as he heads back to the rider, brow furrowing. "I don't schtup weyrlings. bad for the dragon's mental health." Cranky Ron moves out of the way while Lenculoth relaxes her wings and starts walking to the far side of the bowl, watching to see if Nymerith follows. "No offense, T'ab."

T'ab waves his hand to S'eron, "No offense taken there sir, and Tak, I don't just think about sex all the time." He looks almost grumpier at the suggestion of such a thing. His eyes do turn onto the bronze, "See how she's stretching her wings, careful and let Mister S'eron look at you carefully. You'll be fine, no worries bro." The bronze doesn't seem worried at all, instead he continually shifts from foot to foot anxiously, his wings partially unfolding and folding as he watches the greens go off.

T'zyn looks dissatisfied with these responses. "Then why is everyone so cranky?" Nymerith does follow Lenculoth, bouncing after the larger green happily. Her wings stay partially spread to balance out her hopping movement.

« Now, young one, we are going to jump into the air. This jump will be special because you will use your wings to keep you there. Watch me first, then do it. » Lenculoth waits for acknowledgment before she does anything. S'eron just mellows a little, looking over at T'zyn moodily. "I'm just not a big fan of the flight sex. People get so hyper about it, it's not always fun. Then, Len's influence on me is gone so quickly there's just… well, awkward nakedness all over the place."

The comment of 'Awkward nakedness' does get a perk up from T'ab, it is only a momentary interest before he goes back to his moody furrowed eyebrows and scrunched nose. He pokes his lifemate, who just rumbles what sounds more like a drunken groan. "Watch what they are doing Tyr. You can do it right, unless you aren't feeling up to it." <>

Nymerith's wings spread wide, stretching and flapping once before she looks to Lenculoth. « I'm ready! » She sounds rather too confident about this. Back with the others, T'zyn shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, frowning. "That — doesn't sound fun at all. Can't you — I don't know, hide?"

If Lenculoth is skeptical of the young one's ability, she does not say anything. She just begins to demonstrate, squatting low and deep before jumping high into the air. Her wings billow out and cup the air, pushing it down as she gains altitude. S'eron on the other hand runs his hand through his hair as he considers T'zyn's question. "Well, um, you'll see. You have to remember to hide when you're in your right mind and I kind of… well, Len gets proddy early and for a long time - and… well, I'm not really in my right mind for a while before the flight."

T'ab taps his foot lightly as the pair wait, although it stops at the mention of the flights and the conversation. "You can always hide with me Tak, I'm not gonna touch you." Then his grumpy face just turns into a smirk, "No, I'm sorry, didn't mean that." Yep, a moment of a smile. The bronze's swirling eyes on the demonstration, his drunken head lifting to keep up with his sights on the green.

"You're not?" T'zyn looks relieved for a moment, before his expression abruptly shifts to looking offended on behalf of his lifemate. He looks from T'ab to Tyroth and back. "— Why not? Nym is gorgeous." Over across the bowl, Nymerith watches Lenculoth dutifully, though she is just a bit too fidgety to really be paying attention. She leaps into the air shortly after Len, perhaps a bit /too/ readily for a first attempt at flying as her wings catch the air easily, pushing her upwards as well.

Lenculoth swings a little wider, but mostly goes straight up, her keen eyes watching the smaller green's progress through the air. « If you tire, please let me know. Otherwise, when you get as high as you can go, we will just keep that height. » S'eron turns to watch as well, curious and concerned. "Nymerith is gorgeous."

T'ab gives a wink to T'zyn with a little chuckle, "Aye, Nym is gorgeous… I just meant, ah nevermind." His expression a little lighter, but he seems to be turning his focus to the flying of the dragon. "Note Tyr how they shape their bodies, helps them fly better." His hand draws in the body to trace the flying green's bodies. « Bro, I totally got this. » He bounces a little but the hand of the small man steadies his anxious body.

Nymerith rises quickly, wings beating the air somewhat harder than is really necessary. « Tire? Me, tire? No way, this is awesome! » T'zyn smiles at his green's enthusiasm. "Awesome, yeah, but don't strain yourself!" he calls across the bowl. "— And, yeah, she's beautiful!" He grins, before looking abruptly worried about this. "I bet tons of the males will want her." Now /he/ sounds grumpy.

Lenculoth picks an altitude and hovers there, demonstrating the appropriate amount of thrust to remain somewhat stationary in the air. « Now we are going to glide. I need you to look to a place where there are no people or things to run into and concentrate on it. » S'eron glances back at the grumpy T'zyn. "Bah. What did you mean, T'ab? You'd some how have supernatural control and not feel the desire to do… things."

T'ab's eyes transfer from watching the greens in the sky toward looking athe greenrider and his question. "Aye, I understand that it'll be difficult to control… the desire? But it is possible right? Especially when you care about the other person, like a brother, I mean you can stop yourself can't you?" Not that T'ab's been terribly good at at controlling himself already. "Right?" Now he looks worried, less focused on planning for the flight.

"Cuz self-control has totally been your strong point," T'zyn says teasingly. Look, a smile! Making fun of T'ab is a surefire cure for grumpiness. It is a short-lived smile, though. He looks faintly worried as well. In the air, Nymerith shares none of her lifemate's apprehension, too exhilirated by flying. She hovers beside Lenculoth, none too steady at first as she tries to mimic the older green's movements to stay stationary. Eventually she gets it, though, and focuses on finding a good empty spot to concentrate on. « Okay! I'm ready! »

"I know a girl who slept with her own father" well, not biological, but whatever, "during a flight and thought about going back for seconds. The safest way to hide is to be somewhere where you /can't/ get to anyone else because the urge is that strong." S'eron is so sweet. Lenculoth borrows Nymerith's guide spot and aims herself a little to the side. « Stretch out your wings like this and stiffen your body and be ready to land. » And away Len goes!

T'ab looks over toward Tak with almost a grumpy look, but he seems incapable of being too grumpy at the younger man. "If you'd rather, I'll jump you the moment that we're allowed to. If that makes you feel any better?" The twitch from a smirk to a frown occurs to S'eron's comments, but he still seems more chipper than he started. Then as the full-grown green dragon, Tyroth seems to anxiously shift his feet more, only calmed by the soft strokes of T'ab's hand.

T'zyn has no response to S'eron's or T'ab's words. His eyes widen, his face paling as much as is possible with his dark skin. He looks abjectly horrified — enough so that his feelings throw Nymerith off as she attempts her glide. It starts out easy and graceful enough, but her head twists abruptly to focus on her lifemate at the sudden shift in emotions, and her path changes — heading straight in towards where the others all stand, now, rather than in towards safely empty space. Ooops. Hopefully they are good at ducking, because there is a startled and anxious dragonet headed straight towards them with no sign of braking.

« Up! Up! » Lenculoth calls out, ever aware. S'eron gets a little more guidance than Nymerith, throwing himself at T'zyn, but leaving T'ab and Tyroth to fend for themselves.

At least Tyroth was paying attention, for his rumbles loudly and pushes T'ab aside with a hard shove to make sure that they are clear of the green's direction. T'ab gives a loud grunt and tips over lightly, although he looks up at his lifemate first, "What was that for bro?" Then noting the crash course of the green he looks faintly worried.

T'zyn oofs as S'eron tackles him, but is thankful for the AWLM's safe — Nymerith's wings flap hurriedly to try and puller herself up, but she is zooming in just through where T'zyn was standing only moments before. She rises a little higher before turning around to find and empty spot and land, flopping awkwardly and ungracefully to the ground. She looks rather sheepish.

Lenculoth lands a moment later and turns her head not on the weyrling but on her own lifemate. Whatever conversation takes place is not broadcast - except, perhaps the final summary. "Okay, Tyroth it's your turn. T'ab, you and I are going to have to pay a bit more attention to the flying instead of the talking."

T'ab is a little stunned but nods his head as the green pair talk, "Okay Tyroth, lets learn from this and fall with a bit more style. Hows that sound?" He pats his lifemate, the bronze croons lightly, « No problem bro, focus, I'll even not talk to Lenculoth about how pretty her hide is in this light. » The man chuckles then steps back, letting Tyroth strut in the direction of the full-grown green, his wings widening out as he stretches in preparation for the activity.

T'zyn hangs his head, looking apologetic. "M'sorry," he mumbles, abashed. He flicks a guilty glance to the AWLM before hurrying over to Nymerith. She rests her head against his chest, letting him rub at one of her headknobs as they converse, silently as well.

Lenculoth flutters her wings appreciatively for once, but still says nothing. She stretches them out once more, displaying the useful position to hold them so S'eron can inspect. "Yeah. Sorry. I can work the day after, but it's kind of - my mind isn't the best."

T'ab flicks his fingers toward S'eron, not terribly worried about his own lifemate. Tyroth instead is paying attention to the green and in order to make sure he looks his best, he pauses, moves his stance and then unfurls his wings as gracefully as possible. Look at these muscles, this chest, oh la la. The bronze maintains his pose while his lifemate just gives a chuckle appreciatively, "He's getting large." And without noting that he is going to get much bigger.

T'zyn stays at Nymerith's side, stroking the green's head while reassuring her that he is okay. He turns to watch Tyroth get ready to fly, some of his worry easing into amusement as he watches the bronze posing. "He's gonna be huge." There, someone mentioned it!

S'eron makes quick work of inspecting the larger dragonet's wings and limbs, stepping back to make his notes before clearing out of the way. Lenculoth leads the way to the far part of the bowl and issues the same instructions to Tyroth, squatting at ready as she waits on his response.

T'ab nods with a bright smile as his lifemate has apparently passed the inspection and then he stands near to S'eron, thinking maybe the closeness will encourage the focus. Tyroth on the other hand just gracefully struts, if not a little slower than usual, in the direction of the demonstrating green. « I'm ready when you are babe. » He prepares his wings, slightly unfolded ready to hop, skip, and jump into the air.

Nymerith looks maybe a little abashed as she watches Tyroth's graceful strutting. She leans her head more against T'zyn's chest, soaking up the affection as she nurses her wounded pride. "Shh," T'zyn reassures her quietly. "It was my fault. I distracted you. It'll be better next time. You were beautiful until then." Somewhat satisfied with this, she returns to watching Tyroth.

« I prefer my name to affectionate terms. » Lenculoth replies then launches herself upward, climbing to the appropriate height with the same warnings issued to the bronze. S'eron raises an eyebrow as he looks over at T'ab. He says nothing.

"Foooocuuuss Tyr. Focus. I know she's pretty, but you need to learn to fly well before they'll care." T'ab shakes his head giving a light smirk to S'eron before his gaze falls back on his lifemate. Tyroth gives a croon, acknowledging his lifemate's advice, and then takes off the ground as if he has done this before, his wings moving not quite as fast as Nymerith's but each flap is strong his body swimming through the air to even his height to the green's and then he gives a little trumpet of success, adjusting his body to prepare to glide.

« Pretty. » This is the only comment Nymerith makes on Tyroth's takeoff and flight, but the tone of her voice is appreciative.

Lenculoth gives Tyroth the last bits of instruction before demonstrating a good gliding formation, landing and turning to watch with a little more speed than she did with Nymerith. "It wasn't really your fault either, Taz. There's just a risk factor with the first time in the air."

T'ab nods a bit as he leans this way and that, swaying with the motion that Tyroth follows as he begins his glide forward through the air, focusing on a specific area that is aimed for his landing spot, pretty lady free sadly enough. The bronze seems to be much more at ease of gliding, catching an upwind slightly and gliding up and descending again. There is a slight drunken sway to his movement, but that seems awfully natural with the rest of his movements.

"But it wasn—" T'zyn starts to say, before shutting his mouth abruptly. "Wasn't right of me to get so distracted," he says instead quickly. "I mean, I should've been focusing on her better."

"True." S'eron doesn't argue anymore. He's watching Tyroth's glide, only letting out a relieved breath when he lands. "Oh, good." Ron turns back to the weyrlings. "No more flying today. Try it again tomorrow, but be slow and methodically, building up your time in the air carefully. Straining wings can lead to crashing into things, more injuries and unfortunate groundings. If you do have any stress in your lifemate's wings, let me know. I can work them out." He grabs his clipboard and makes the final notes.

T'ab claps his hands together and goes running over to Tyroth as the bronze touches the ground with a slight firm landing, but his knobby knees seem to handle the pressure as he steps forward, giving a look over toward Lenculoth, « So was the view as good from over there as it was over here. » Then there might be a draconic wink to the green before he swaggers to meet his lifemate who gives a big hug to his neck, « Come'on bro don't be embarrassin' me in front of the ladies. »

« That was lovely » Nymerith allows graciously to Tyroth, all traces of injured pride gone from her tone. There's even a bit of her usual bubbly excitement back as she adds, « So when do we get to go again? » T'zyn laughs and rubs her head. "Soon. Tomorrow. It'll be great. — Thanks, Ron. And you, Lenculoth." Nymerith adds her own thanks, to Len, at least, her head bowing to the older green.

« View? View of what? » Honestly confused, Lenculoth walks away, heading back toward the groundweyrs with a little bit of a skip in her fluid steps. S'eron shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "She only has eyes for one dragon at a time - and that only lasts about a sevenday after flight. I have to put up with the rider thinking we're in love for that long and then when she rejects him, I have to deal with the rider and the dragon then." Thank yous? Ron doesn't hear thank yous. He's distracted. Len is more gracious, bestowing mental nods before disappearing into the next bowl.

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