Proud Parent (OPEN!)

[lithle]

Semith was spying. Oh, yes! She was sneaky and sly, and she'd settled by the river, where she could clearly watch the comings and goings at the new Weyrling Barracks. It'd been a sevenday since the hatching, and she was eager to spend time with her new children, even if her rider seemed to get stressed at the mere mention of the new Weyrlings.

Which was why Leshta wasn't with her. This was Semith's own special mission and she hadn't invited Leshta or Mordanth, or anyone. Being surrounded by people and dragons was too obvious, and she'd been told not to bother the little ones.

Which she wouldn't! She had no intention of being a bother. She was going to be a watcher. That was all. She just wanted to get a good look at the babies she and Mordanth had created and make sure they were doing well.

And maybe talk to them. Well, she'd have to talk to them! One couldn't simply spot ones own child and not even say hi. They'd be sad if she did that.

So, she was watching. And waiting. And potentially talking should the opportunity arise. They had lessons of course, but they couldn't always be in lessons. And the sun hadn't yet set, which meant they wouldn't be in for curfew. It was the perfect time, late afternoon, headed toward a lazy evening. Now, she just needed one to pass by.

Then she'd pounce! That was, she'd politely, in a non-bothersome way, ask them if they wanted to talk. She would NOT pounce. She would be the opposite of pouncing and bothersome.

Gleaming in the early evening light, Semith stretched out beside the river, to wait. She wasn't very good at it though, her tail lashed like an impatient feline, and she looked, very much, like someone planning to pounce.

Though, of course, she wasn't.

[Zen]

Cabarath was borne of grace. From the moment he was born, even with the egg glop and the awkwardness of birth, he seemed to stalk with a certain feline grace toward T’ron. Sure, he was a hatchling still and awkwardness hung in his limbs, but everyone was hard-pressed to name another hatchling with as much grace as he had hatched with. This was not to say that he was all gracefulness and litheness. He still stumbled, and he was unable to keep his wings in check most of the time. The same was true now, only a sevenday later. The only difference was that, just outside the Weyrling barracks, his mother waited.

The small gray was immensely smaller than a green dragon hatchling should have been. Semith was immensely larger than Cabarath, but that would not stop the small gray from beginning his lifelong need to advance T’ron to the top of Warden’s standings. If Cabarath could help it, he would soon pull T’ron to the very top. Perhaps he wouldn’t be as equal to the Warden as he wanted, but Cabarath would never give up.

T’ron had settled into his cot with Bitmap in the crook of his arm. He was used to Cabarath wandering around the Weyrling’s barracks before settling down. It was almost time for the gray to settle down for the night, so T’ron only cast a few glances toward his gray just to make sure Cabarath was still here. I will not leave you. Cabarath seemed offended, his velvety voice sounding hurt in T’ron’s mind. It was a nightly occurrence that had quickly become routine, so Cabarath’s hurt was only simulated, not real.

The boy, who would soon become thrust into leadership positions he otherwise would not have been thrust into, replied with, “I meant no harm in the matter.’ He declared silently, and Cabarath wandered.

Then he spotted Semith sitting outside. She seemed to be stalking the Weyrlings, and his eyes gleamed blue-green in anticipation. He stalked silently out of the barracks, leaving T’ron behind to settle a newfound game of Rory’s, and respectfully approached his mother, the Queen. He stopped a short distance from her and drew from T’ron’s memory the knowledge that Semith rather liked shining objects and gifts. The small gray son bowed his head respectfully and spoke to Semith with his velvety soft voice, Good evening, Semith. You look very shiny in the afternoon light; have you come to speak to your children?

[lithle]

Oddly colored though he was, Cabarath was a dragon that any mother would be proud of. He was elegant, beautiful, and even polite. Certainly such a child was beyond approach. Semith crooned gently, shifting to peer at the much smaller dragon. She'd barely had to wait at all before one of her babies had come to play. That just proved what a good job she'd done raising them!

Well, guarding the eggs, anyway.

Cabarath! Her high, piping mindvoice was as bright and shining as her hide. Did you come to see me? I'm not bothering you, am I? I'm not supposed to bother you!

She sat up as if to create some distance between her and the little gray. See, she wasn't bothering him. She wasn't even close to him!

Semith, Pet, what are you up to? Leshta asked from the dining hall, picking up on the emotional shifts in her dragons mood.

There's a baby talking to me. Can I talk to him, if he talks to me? He started it! Semith's mindvoice was lightly colored with anxiety now, though her eyes continued to whirl in content colors.

Oh, Pet. Just don't tire him.

Semith lowered her huge golden head, peering closely at Cabarath. You aren't tired, are you? she asked, hope adding brass notes to her joyous tones.

It was at this close range that Semith realized the young dragon was unaccompanied. Of course, so was she, but she was being clever and sneaky. Somehow, it was a bit distressing to imagine her children wandering about alone and unprotected. What if they were eaten by wild felines? The jungle was full of such things. She allowed the thought to simmer for the moment, not wanting to express such negative thoughts.

[S'yal]

Snowth had also wandered from F'ox's side, though for reasons other then a mere desire to explore. F'ox had fallen asleep, and Snowth was not tired at all. It was unusual for her to leave the albinos side, but restless energy had infected her limbs. Surely F'ox would not mind Snowth off on a walk, he was always encouraging her to spend time on her own when being in a crowd began to tax on her solitary nature. She enjoyed time with him greatly, but he was aware of the fact he was not good company when he was falling asleep on his feet. Snowth did not feel guilty for leaving his side- she was not going far. Merely to the rivers edge. Besides, the guard who had been very exuberant and happy was watching her carefully. She had faith in him, he would not allow harm to come to her.

A glimmering hide caught her attention as she wandered, the solitary green moving closer to her golden mother... and her brother. Maybe she would have approached the gold if it was just Semith, but the presence of her brother made her carefully skirt aroun the pair until she was an acceptable distance from them. Snowth wished to talk to her mother, of course, but she was not a social creature. She preferred private, one on one conversations. She would also hate to intrude on the time between Semith and Cabarath. She slumped so she was laying, twisting her neck so she could gently nudge the bandages that covered her wounded shoulder. She did not want to bother the pair... but if one of them called her over she would most certainly not be adverse to joining their conversation.

In fact, she wanted to. But interrupting them would be beyond horrible. The polite green would never interrupt someone elses conversation... unless they were talking about F'ox.

[Zen]

Cabarath was not used to anything much other than his fellow clutch mates and T’ron. He certainly wasn’t accustomed to any very cheery thought processes, and his mother’s mind accelerated through his own mind was at first too much for him to comprehend. When he played it back slower, he found himself shaking his head. It was a learned maneuver both from T’ron’s every day acts and from his memories. He bowed again to the Queen his mother. He might not be as large as her, and he certainly would never be as large as her when he was grown, but he would certainly make sure that he was the best… perhaps the best below her, as no male could ever gain as much respect as a Gold.

Mine is tired, but not me. I am awake and would like to talk, Queen Semith. Cabarath said. His voice, ever the velvet texture upon the other’s mind, whispered honestly into Semith’s mind. His head bobbed. That simple bobbing motion caused him to see something out of the corner of his eye.

A quick check, his head moving to turn toward his clutchsister. If dragons could smile, if dragons could act the immediate gentleman, Cabarath was the spitting image of that such dragon. He did not so much mind the distance between his mother’s height and his (which was sure to have been unconscious) as he minded the distance between his own body and his sister’s. He had not taken over his mother—no one could take over a Queen—and he saw Snowth as a timid creature to be taken apart softly by a person who’d help her and who she could trust in. Snowth needed someone strong for her weakness—Cabarath was a good judge of character. So he did what Cabarath would come to call ‘Cabarath did best,’ he found himself as a mesh; he could transform into whatever the situation needed.

Snowth, his voice softened to a warm hum, Come, Snowth, you are welcome here. It is alright to talk. He lifted up a wing and beckoned with it. He was warm and inviting and his eyes swirled with the blue and green of happiness.

[lithle]

Semith was only too pleased that Cabarath did, in fact, want to talk to her. And he wasn't even tired. She settled back into a relaxed pose, resting her head on her fore-legs. Her long slender tail was lashing with enthusiasm, like a feline's on the hunt. It circled around, coming to rest behind the gray, providing a protective barrier from all the real felines roaming about, threatening her children.

I am glad you'd like to speak! And then, a bit carefully, because she didn't want to sound critical. And where is your rider, Cabarath? Is he caring well for you? You look well seen to.

She noticed his shifting attention following it to the green lurking nearby. Snowth. Bandaged Snowth. Semith still remembered the incident that had lead to her wound. She did have to touch her rider's mind to rekindle the memory, but soon enough it was there. Unlike some who had witnessed the hatching, Semith bore no so anger toward Invidith for her savagery during the event. She loved all her children, though as they grew she would stop seeing them as hers. For the moment, she regretted what had happened to Snowth without hating the source of her pain. If Invidith had come to join them, she too, would have been welcomed.

Yes, Sweetling! Please, come closer. I would see you. Do you hurt, still? The very tips of her tails twitched, in a gesture that invited the green to come within the circle she'd created around Cabarath.

Now two of her littlings were out wandering without their riders. Did all weyrlings do this? She couldn't recall herself at that age. But she'd been very sick, she knew that. Leshta told her oft enough that she should be careful even now, because they could hardly trust her health. It was silliness, of course, but Semith was willing to indulge her riders worrying and hovering for the most part.

[S'yal]

She was being invited into their little circle then? Wonderful. Snowth stood quickly, attempting to move with the grace of her adult counterparts as she limped forward. Of course, with the uncomfortable tug of her healing wound grace was something lost to the young dragon. She settled at what she judged was a polite distance from the pair, close enough to be sociable without invading their personal space. It was important to be polite, to be a proper lady. She could not appear to be too distant, she would hurt their feelings, but being too familiar with her family might make them uncomfortable. Man, this refined stuff was hard!

Greetings Cabarath, Semith. For all her obsession with being polite, her voice was infused with warmth as she greeted her mother and sibling. Are your riders sleeping as well? F'oxmine is still weak, he sleeps often. The fact a young dragon, who spent most of her time napping, was saying this obviously meant that F'ox slept a great deal. I trust your riders are in good health and happy? She said this in a convicted way, as if there was no way Semith or Cabbage would allow their riders to go about unhealthy and unhappy.

Semith's question earned hesitation, before a slight dip of her head was given. F'oxmine says i'll probably limp for a while. He wants to ask the dragonhealer more about it. The words were shy, as if she could not understand why Semith was interested in her injury. She was obviously thankful for it, judging by the green tinging her soft yellow eyes. She was nervous- she wasn't a social dragon. Of course, the fact this was a small group helped set her at ease greatly. But my limp should go away. She added as an after thought, turning her head to observe the bandaged injury thoughtfully.

Snowth hesitated, eyes locking on her mothers crippling defect. How selfish of Snowth, to say she was in pain when her mother could not fly. Her eyes began to whirl faster, before a questioning thought from F'ox put her at ease. She relaxed visibly, a sheepish look coming over her face. F'oxmine says i'm being silly. She admitted, sounding slightly chagrined. Suddenly the embarrassed, shy persona returned full force as she gazed shyly up at her mother. Lessons are very exciting, Semith. Aren't they, Caba... She struggled to remember his full name, before giving up. Cab? F'oxmine says that L'vey is going to teach me to be the best green I can be, and that we should be nice to him. But don't tell L'vey. She took on the solemn tone of a child that had been supposed to keep a secret. F'oxmine doesn't want L'vey to know that F'oxmine likes him. Does your rider like him, Cab? ... and oh my, i've been rambling. She fell quiet, mulling over how HARD it was to be social. She'd been attempting to be friendly, but she suddenly felt as if she'd chattered away endlessly.

[Spiffy]

Kitath was hungry. Now usually that would mean that she'd fetch Sh'lon from wherever he was and get him to carve up a herdbeast for her. But that had changed only a month ago by L'vey's word that the weyrlings were now old enough to be catching their own dinners, an idea that rankled with Kitath. She didn't want to kill herdbeasts. She liked herdbeasts, as much as her rider. They were furry and stupid, how could she not like them?

But Sh'lon had made a point of refusing to make her meals for her recently, though she had succeeded a few times in sneaking a bucked of chunked meat out of him, but it appeared as if her rider was finally putting his foot down. At any other time Kitath would have applauded this - but not now.

The green took flight from the weyrling barracks, about to head off to collect her rider to take him to the feeding pens with her, when she was distracted by something down by the river. Ooh, what do we have here? she thought to herself. Something big, and gold, and dragon shaped. Odd, what was Semith doing here? She circled closer for a second, spotting the two young dragons with her. Ah, babies! Kitath was overcome with curiosity, not normally this distractable, but she was avoiding the issue of feeding and so she would join the little group down below. Sh'lon could wait. She'd made it to the hatching, but hadn't really seen the little ones since, and wanted to know more about them They were unusual and interesting after all!

Landing with a slight thud and a wobble (she'd only been flying for a month or two) she tucked her wings into her sides matter-of-factly as she approached the small group on foot.

Greetings Semith she said primly, but warmly, to the queen. Kitath, secretly, liked Semith. For all her being Senior Queen and all, Semith was childlike, which made her immediately attractive to the young green. She looked upon Semith much as a mother would, despite being half the size and a fraction of the age of the crippled gold, and extended this motherliness to anything small, including the two younger weyrlings present.

Now who do we have here? she said, settling on the side of the weyrlings not enclosed by Semith's tail and snaking her head forward inquisitively, but still keeping a respectful distance from everyone. My name is Kitath, and I have been looking forward to meeting you little ones finally. May I know your names? she asked, then noticed the bandage on the little green's shoulder, remembering the fight from the hatching. Evil little green who did it, Kitath was not looking forward to meeting that one. How is your injury, my dear? Healing well? she asked kindly, unaware that the little one had already answered that question once.

[lithle]

Now that Kitath had arrived, Semith was surrounded by not only her children, but her friends. Her eyes whirling slowly with contentment, the gold gave a happy croon, warm and resonant. She wished it could always be this way. Usually, there were no young dragons about, and everyone was too busy flying patrols to spend time with her. She got lonely.

She would just have to Run again! And have more eggs! If she always made more babies, then there'd always be babies that had time to spend with her. Of course, Kitath wasn't her baby, but she was still a baby. Or at least, she was young.

Kitath! Welcome! Did you come to see my babies. This is Cabarath and Snowth. Cabarath is gray and Mine says there's nothing wrong with that. Not that Semith had worried on that front, but she liked to share all of her rider's bits of wisdom when given a chance.

My rider isn't sleeping, little Snowth, but she is but she has work! Sometimes, she has much to do and can not play with me! It is good your rider rests. He is small. Of course, everyone was small to Semith. You must take care of him and see he gets strong! And you must listen to Faeth. That way you can grow to be clever and fly like Kitath!

When Semith was in her thoughtful moods, she rather wished she'd had a teacher like Faeth, who was always nice to her and patient. Her mother, under whom she'd trained, had been impatient and short tempered, with little enough interest in her deformed daughter. Semith had done her best of course, she'd wanted the positive attention. But she was forgetful and lacked the force to assert herself as a gold should. She'd been a disappointment on many fronts. It was something she might have long ago forgotten, but the memory of it tended to simmer close to the front of Leshta's mind, and she was therefore reminded regularly of how unpleasant the situation had been.

We will take good care of you. She said, looking at her children. I am proud.

Because after all, that's what she'd always wanted to hear.