On Straps - Clutch 41

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.
It is a winter midmorning. The sun seems blindingly bright in the southeastern sky. Its warmth soon dispels the previous night's chill.
Green Mauinath, blue Aeokaith, brown Khonsath, gold Ryazusith, bronze Nverath, and green Safuriketh are here.
Lzi and Asli are here.

Izlasth sashays proudly, holding her head contemptuously above the rest, out of the barracks.

U'ric walks out of the barracks.

Asli has disconnected.

After a morning of carrying around those two damn firestone sacks that Sapha assigned her, Lzi is out with Izlasth, doing a little oiling outside of the barracks. Funny that she's not left crying and laying around, as she has done for the past few days of her punishment. Maybe she's starting to build up those muscular arms? Maybe. She'll be buff soon enough, but right now, her main concern is her green and massaging every spot with oil.

The housekeeper arrives to cart Asli off to bed.

Nverath's hide is freshly glistening and all, and D'baji's hair still wet from the recent bathing experience at the waterfall. Deb's trudging down the path, accompanied by a galumphing Nverath, that leads into the bowl. Because, of course, what better activity after having bathed than to go and check up on the Weyrlings? The big bronze emits a low rumble of greeting to Izlasth, and any other random Weyrling dragon who happens to be in the bowl at the time. And D'baji, noting Lzi, offers his half-assed finger-wavling salute, and hits a jog. "Hey you! Essay goin' well?"

R'yn walks with a steady stride out of the barracks.

Azmaioth saunters with the pride of a great cat, tail swaying languidly behind him as he strides out of the barracks.

Izlasth, despite her oiling, opens up her wings, quite possibly to show herself off to Nverath, rumbling a greeting herself. Lucky for D'baji, Lzi, like her dragon, is in a fairly friendly mood, greeting him with a wide smile and a head nod. "Heeeey. Good, good. I think I have it almost finished. I only need to add a few more things before I hand it into Sapha for approval. Right now, I'm taking time away from it to give Izlasth here a well-deserved oiling. She's been helping me out with it a bit." Lzi gives her green a proud little pat before getting back to the oiling, tossing a few glances back towards the bronzerider and dragon. "You two look awfully clean."

U'ric emerges from the barracks bearing a decent sized pot of oil? than why does the weathered label on the jar bear just enough writing for one to make out the words 'Ladies Facial Cream'? Simple answer, because U'ric has a special type of oil made for Khonsath, whom happens to be waiting patiently. A soft growl-rumble of a greeting for bronze Nverath, as he and his rider enter the bowl; U'ric nods, and would wave but can't, "Hey D'baji." and makes his way towards his brown.

D'baji gives an approving nod to Izlasth, adding a more vocal, "Good, glad it's comin' along… Can't wait to read it," to the pair. Glancing back to his dragon, who is taking his time settling into a rather noble-looking sit, Deb all but beams. "He's shiny an' glowy as a proddy gold, eh?" Yes, there's definite pride in that comment. "We needed some alone time. Why not go swimmin' with it. Even though I've been told that grungy's far better'n clean…" A wrinkle of his nose is the parting thought on that, as he's distracted by U'ric. "Heya." Another wave-salute, even as Nverath dips his head carefully to the brown. "Khonsath's gettin' bigger all the time. He'll tart overtaking the full grown greens soon enough."

"Who says I'll let you read it?" Lzi can't help but jab, her face, though, smiling and all. Stopping Izlasth's oiling for the time being, Lzi awards the bronze a longer, more approving look. "Clean is /definitely/ better." But as D'baji leaves to talk with U'ric, the girl goes back to her oiling, much to her green's approval.

U'ric stands a little taller for the comment, "Aye, he's getting there, sure." Khonsath regards his rider and D'baji with a knowledgable calm, he was in no rush, he was growing as he should, right on schedule. A chuckle and drawled addition to the debate of cleanliness, "Perhaps, but that dep'nds upon how you define clean." as U'ric settles the jar and begins working on the right wing that Khonsath is holding out for his rider.

There is a faint scraping sound as talons track along the ground from the barracks out into the bowl. Azmaioth sways his head from side to side, looking unusually pleased with himself this day. Behind the dragon, R'yn totes along a bucket and a brush along with some other tools that are tied to a line over his shoulder. "That was not funny." The young man protests, glaring at the dragon's rear end. The bronze swivels his head around and blinks innocently, but then looks for a particularly sunny spot. R'yn simply rolls his eyes, shrugging the line up further on his shoulder.

"Mmm, not according to Siren it's not," D'baji tosses over his shoulder at Lzi. "She's all about the grungy. You should take it up with her…" As he reaches Khonsath and U'ric, he passes another appraising glance over the brown. "Y'keep him in good condition, eh?" A sidelong glance is sent to the facial cream jar. "An' you'll have to be sure to his straps don't rub…" A glance is sent to the brown's shoulders. "Y'been practisin' those?" 'Ver's rumbled greeting to Azmaioth has Deb sending another salute-thing R'ynwards. So may salutes, so little time.

Lzi snorts a reply to D'baji, but it mostly relays her opinion of the girl. They never got along, really. Not at all. As another one of her brothers enters, Izlasth once more opens up her wings in a showing fashion, Lzi shaking her head and chuckling lowly as she uses the opportunity to get underneath her wings. R'yn gets a quick glance and a smile, busy at work with the green who is all about attention today.

Siren swaggers in from the Central Bowl.

"Aye, I keep 'em happy, don I?" the brown recieves a joyful thump from U'ric, to which Khonsath rumbles affectionately. A short remark about the straps, "Aye, getting better, managed to find some leftover dyed material he liked, so that's how we did this pair." so what strap-making is a group process? yes. A lazy wave is thrown up in greeting to R'yn, "Howdy, R'yn? How are you and Azmaioth this fine day?"

Siren has disconnected.

R'yn has connected.

Azmaioth, still in high spirits, returns the rumble to the bigger bronze, swaying his head from side to side as if to some inner music. Of course, when Izlasth fans her wings, the young bronze's attentions shift that direction, and his head bows graciously to the lady and her rider. The bronze even gives a rumbled greeting to Khonsath, which is a strange rarity. Usually he isn't so apt to greet the other bronzes or the larger browns. Competition they are. R'yn, setting the bucket and string of brushes and other tack down, rises again to raise a hand in greeting to the others. "Just fine, thanks. Azmaioth saved an insect from getting squished by one of the other weyrings, so he's quite pleased with himself at the moment." And almost as if in response, the bronze gives a dragon-chuckle and then flops his butt down unceremoniously.

D'baji, being the rather mature assistant weyrlingmaster that he is, turns around to stick his tongue out at Lzi's snort. Consider that the bronzer's version of defending his woman, or something. "Oh yeah?" Deb questions of U'ric, "So he's got colour preferences? Nverath was… kinda like that. He didn't have colour prefs, but he insisted on a certain feel…" In other words, the group process of strap-manufacturing is no strange idea to Deb. "Shards," is then sent R'ynwards. "That's eerily familiar. He's not the same way with saplings, is he? 'Ver and I tried to walk through the forest once near the end of 'linghood… Took us /forever/."

The housekeeper arrives to cart Siren off to bed.

"What? You are crazy." Lzi says in an exchange with Izlasth, her hands being placed on her hips. "Fine. Alright, alright. Fine. If you'll excuse us, gentlemen, Izlasth says that it is too cold out here for her delicate hide, and we'll finish our oiling inside the barracks. Good day." Lzi even does a slight bow before following her green inside the barracks.

Asli walks out of the barracks.

Khonsath returns Azmaioth's greeting, turning to physically nudge U'ric over to the rider's left, and than the brown is watching Lzi and Izlasth depart, surely wishing the green a good day. U'ric contents with a wave and "Have a g'day Lzi. Izlasth." to the departing pair, and than looks inbetween R'yn and D'baji, his only remark, "That's interesting," and more for R'yn, "Glad to hear he's pleased with himself." U'ric feels rather left out, and actually looks slightly relieved that Khonsath hasn't displayed this particular type of quirk, thus far.

"Thankfully not." R'yn replies, scooping up the long-handled brush. "He just believes in protecting the little guy. It's going to be terribly amusing when he starts hunting." The dragon looks at his rider quizzically, not quite understanding why hunting will be funny. « I would never hunt the weak or small. They are not a challenge to me, anyways. » Hrumph. "Sure sure, big guy. When your belly ends up touching your spine again, you'll be singing a different tune." The dragon snorts a reply to this, turning himself around and curling his body in such a way that it's impossible for the oiling to take place. "Azmaioth…" R'yn shakes his head. "Listen, I'm sorry, can we just get this done, please?" The bronze lifts his head, and gives the draconic equivalent of a shrug before stretching himself out. "Thank you." Dragons. Yeesh. In this momentary argument with the dragon, R'yn totally misses Lzi's departure, and when he looks again for the woman and her dragon, they are gone. Scratching his head with a confused look, R'yn shrugs.

"Nverath's more just a respect for all things living, then. Well… excluding Thread, but that's his… y'know, crusade." A sniff, and D'baji, in a nostalgic kind of mood, wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, and notes, "Hunting was fun with him, though. He didn't want to for the longest time. And to this day he's thanked every single 'beast he's eaten…" A furrowed brow ensues as Deb turns back to U'ric. "Anyway, uh… Yeah. Good luck with your straps and your dye and that." And back to R'yn, "And same to you, and we'll leave you two to the oiling. Got sweeps to fly, y'know. 'Rider's work's never through." And he'll leave on that note, Nverath rising from to follow, with a low bow of his head and parting croon to Khonsath and Azmaioth.

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