Digging deeper (tag: T'ron)

[twisting]

The late afternoon sun made it's lazy way towards the horizon, as the weyrling's enjoyed an equally lazy siesta. Free time wasn't something the weyrlings found themselves with an over abundance of, but this afternoon was an exception to the rule. Kuriel leaned against one of the posts holding up the roof of their open air structure. She faced the slowly setting sun, but her eyes weren't on the beauty in front of her. they turned inward, rolling over the events of today. Kuriel hadn't been surprised by the limitations placed on the prisoner weyrlings, what was surprising was the limitations placed on all the new colors. None of them were being taught how to between. That little tidbit had both Kuriel and Djith's minds spinning.

Pushing away from the post Kuriel left the beauty of the fading day behind and strolled through the barracks. She wanted to find out the motivation behind these new rules, what better place to start than those most affected by them. Kuriel hadn't really had a chance to interact with the non-prisoner weyrlings very much. Oh she'd seen them in classes and lessons, but that was hardly the ideal time for relationship building, and she usually collapsed in exaustion at the end of the day. Kuri counted curtains until she reached the one she wanted. Scratching on the rough fabric she called out lightly. "T'ron? Are you busy?"

[Zen]

Cabarath looked up from his small couch as someone scratched on the curtain hiding him and his rider from the outside world. His eyes swirled a light blue color and he looked at T’ron. The man lay on his cot, his furs gathered around him into a makeshift table even though there were other, better tables to be had around the small room he called his own, one of which could very easily be Cabarath himself. Mine, one of my clutchsibling’s riders is here, and she is asking for you. The gray’s velvety voice crooned into the man’s head.

T’ron looked up, semi-startled. “Oh?” He asked, eyeing the gray in worry, “Did she say why?”

Cabarath shook his striped gray head, his eyes still whirling gently, She seemed genuinely concerned. Do you believe it has something to do with betweening?

T’ron scowled at the small dragon, anger showing plainly at his face, but he nodded as he composed his features, “It’s alright, you can let her in.” He sighed easily as he made preparations for company. Really, it was only shutting the Record and smoothing out the furs he’d bunched up.

My Lady Kuriel, Cabarath’s mind voice cut, velvety smooth, into Kuriel’s mind. T’ron is pleased that you have come; please come in. There was no hint of anger, nor was there the hint of warning etched into his tone. He was happy that T’ron no longer pored over the Record as if his heart depended on it. The gray was slightly saddened that he didn’t know what was on it, either; T’ron had blocked the Record’s content from his mind. It was the only thing in Cabarath’s short life that T’ron had ever hidden from him.

[twisting]

Kuriel pulled back the curtain and stepped into the privacy of T'ron's "room". She was a bit surprised to see the gray on his low slung couch. DJith no longer fit indoors, even in the semi-indoors that made up their barracks. "Thank you for seeing me, I hope thought you might need to talk." Kuriel smiled, looking for all the world like nothing more than a concerned classmate. "It' really rough, what the Warden said about you two not learning how to between. Me, I can understand." She gestured to the yellow jumpsuit. "But you haven't done anything wrong. Did he tell you why?"

From the comfort of her covered shelter just outside the barracks Djith reached out to her clutchmate. Cabarath, darling, I heard the awful news. She crooned sweetly. Whatever could they be thinking Sympathy fluttered from the yellow, just a trickle, she didn't want to smother the proud weyrling.

[Zen]

It's true, While the other colors had long since ceased to fit in their rooms, Cabarath and the other grays, though perhaps not Willoth, were still capable of squishing into their old couches. Cabarath hung out a little, but there was no slouching in his body and he certainly was fit. Cabarath was already looking kindly at Kuriel when she pushed her way into the room. Cabarath looked from T'ron to Kuriel, trying to figure out if there was a connection there that he hadn't seen before, but T'ron's face lit only in slight surprise at the sight of the prisoner-weyrling. Kuriel's body and face never ceased to amaze him. The pale scar on her cheek and the haunted look of her face had always caught T'ron off-guard before, and seeing it twisted into a kindly smile caught him even more so. But he smoothed his face out into a smile similar to the one Cabarath tried to make happen as he patted to the furs next to him; it would not do to allow a lady to stand.

"Welcome, Kuriel," He said genially to the girl but his head was soon sent into a fit of shaking as he answered her questioning silently. "Tell the truth, I think there's only one answer to that question," he muttered, his clear blue eyes icy and shadowed, "and it's because Cabarath is a gray."

Cabarath snorted, but his attention was drawn to Djith; the yellow spoke to him with sweetness and sympathy lacing her tones. He pondered the question slowly before giving a physical shrug and seating himself on the couch. He wasn't even as large as a green, but still at his size, the movement wouldn't go amiss. I have not the slightest, Lady Djith. His voice smoothed itself into Djith's mind.

Just as he said, Mine has not yet asked the Warden why he cannot., T'ron declared, "I admit, I haven't asked the Warden why I am not able to learn anything. I guess I'm a little afraid to ask; we've been equal ever since the hatching, why would Cabarath and I, and perhaps Willoth and Gwyl, be chosen as different now?"

[twisting]

Kuriel took a seat on the furs next to T'ron, chewing her lip as she pondered their dilemma. "Something must have happened recently, something that changed how the Warden sees the new colors." She tossed out casually, "It can't be anything you've done. Faranth knows if anyone walks the straight and narrow path it's you two." A grin softened her words. Kuriel leaned back along the bed, kicking her feet casually. "It can't be anything the rest of us have done, because we would all know about it. No one can keep secrets in this place. So we need to figure out what happened to make the warden put you, on the same level as a prisoner." She sat up, giving him a firm look, the smile fading. "Because that's what he's doing here. You may not be wearing yellow, but in his eyes we're the same now."

Djith let a tinge of worry sneak into her mind voice. Mine fears for all of us. You and yours are innocent, and yet he punishes you. What will he do to those who aren't so innocent." The yellow put on a brave face. I'm sure ours can figure out what is going on. She paused before making a suggestion to the other weyrling. Perhaps some of the others may have an idea.

[Zen]

T'ron was uneasy about the predicament the Warden had set him (and consequently Gwyn as well) in. He had never complained that only three non-prisoners had Impressed. He had never complained thatthe prisoner-weyrlings unsettled him, for somethimes they did. He had never complained that he and Cabarath had been scorned just because of Cabarath's color. Why should he have? Cabarath was just as strong as any other dragon in mentality, but his physical prowess was not something to be wanted. And now, because of some unexplained happenstance, the gray weyrlings had been thrust down to the level of the prisoner-weyrligs. The Weyr had declared that all weyrlings were equal, but every weyrling knew that wasn't right. The prisoner-weyrings had to wear yellow and were always watched. And now, with the issue of betweening, T'ron thought the Warden had gone too far.

But he shrugged his shoulders as an answer to Kuriel. "I guess we were always meant to be equal. I bet that they were never goin to teach the new colors to between in the first place." There was no bitterness in his voice. There was only the facts. "Gwyn and Willoth should be here, too, I believe. She and her gray are in the same boat as us... Er, me. Cabarath?"

Already on it. Willoth? Mine requests yours alin his room to discuss the current predicament.. The gray bespoke Willoth before standing and stepping out of the boy's room to make more room. He stepped happily toward the yellow where she lay so that they might talk easier. I have called Willoth and His, Djith. It seemed the easiest, for His is a Harper and might have heard something.