[Hatching] Wounds Healing

[giftwrapped]

...welp. That was the shortest-lived stint as a commentator in the history of running commentary. Serdek, who didn't have an answer as to which egg hatched the brown dragonet anyway, didn't have a chance to answer Senar before the brown was coming their way. Faranth why was it coming their way? For a moment, Serdek fought hard to resist the urge to run. It wasn't that she was afraid of hatchlings - no, that wasn't it by any means. But brown dragon and moving toward me elicited a fear response in Serdek that she had to work to control.

She quelled the panic by staring at the little brown as it moved forward, reminding herself that this was a Hatching, its eyes were not orange, and she was all right. Nonetheless she moved slightly out of the way without noticing she was doing it, clasping her hands tightly behind her back as the creature approached - ah! The boy she had been talking to. And she watched as Senar accepted the dragon, a slight smile playing across her lips at the spectacle. No, there was nothing 'magical' about watching it happen to someone else, but it was still nice to see someone made suddenly so happy.

The next eggs, however, were different. Serdek missed the purple's Impression because she was so focused on the ominous hissing coming from the newly-cracked egg. Oh Faranth, if she hadn't had a reason to be scared the last time around, she certainly had reason to be once that one broke shell. And it did, eventually, and Serdek found herself holding her breath as she watched it. Faranth, she wasn't afraid like she was for her attacks, but she was uneasy. It was like staring down a bull. She would do it if she had to but she didn't like the idea that there was the possibility of attack. So intensely focused was she on that dragon that she all but missed the pink who hatched, though the trill did briefly draw her attention.

What was the little creature going to do? Would there be blood? There hadn't been any yet, and Serdek was beginning to wonder if that meant that something terrible was just waiting to happen.

[giftwrapped]

The hissing had caught Kas's attention again, and now that Lostris was gone, Kas was getting bored of standing and staring at the jungle. There was nobody to quip back and forth with now, what was he to do? Well, apparently, the answer was 'look anxiously over my shoulder and make sure that whatever's making that terrible noise isn't coming to eat me while my back is turned' because Kas glanced briefly back at the yellow (and noticed that the brown was making his way off the Sands with a young man Kas didn't recognize at all. Well, Impressions were good!

And that left the newly-hatched yellow, the angry one. And Kas couldn't help but glance over his shoulder again, hoping that she wasn't coming for him. Thus far, she wasn't, but then - oh! What was that? Pur- no, no that looked pink. And dragons couldn't mix colours. Kas stared for a moment, eventually determining that the size of the creature made it different from those new weird purple hatchlings. So it would be a pink, then. And it had reprimanded the yellow? Well, good on him, then! Ballsy little thing.

...It was coming toward the guards. Kas frowned, turning slightly so he didn't have to keep craning his neck to keep an eye on the thing. Its eyes were blue and green, which meant good, right? But it was still coming toward him and Kas was getting a little bit tired of constant distraction. He was trying so hard to keep his eye on the jungle like a good guard. And then he kept glancing at the Sands, and that was making his headache worse, and. Pffffffff. Today was a very long day already. Kas was getting a little tired of it. "Pffft Lostris Impressed already, you're too late," he mumbled half-jokingly in the thing's direction.

"Seriously, I just want to go back to sleep."

[puppetmaster]

Dragonets aren't stupid, Kaskirk.

Well, at least this pink wasn't.

Upon hearing Kaskirk and his bitching, the hatchling stopped on the sands, his gaze less then impressed. Dragon's Breath had no rainbows in his eyes, no clear cut determination for those around him as to why he wanted to stand guard with Kaskirk. Or period. Fine, then! The dragonet sniffed, small head cocked up in an arrogant flick of 'whatever!' before it moved away and to another who may possibly need to be protected. Kaskirk, you are a butt, and Dragon's Breath is disappoint.

That said, Serdek happened to be the one the pink harassed next. She would appreciate the assistance on being on the lookout, wouldn't she? A damsel in distress, one afraid of it's clutch-mates! How terribly sad. Dragon's Breath stood in front of Serdek, looking her up and down, taking in the white robes, the red stripe at the hems. His head cocked, and the dragonet crooned.

Again, no rainbows. Serdek was not His. But until he felt that overwhelming, pressing need to find his (or at least until his angry, hissing clutch-mate found Hers and decided to stop being pissy and thus, dangerous), he would stay with her. The pink wrapped around her legs like a cat before coiling around Serdek's feet, his eyes swirling contentment, protective and solemn.

Never fear, fair maiden.

Dragon's Breath gotch'your feets.

[giftwrapped]

...oh.

For a moment, Serdek held her breath as the dragon approached her. And then...

Nothing. No bugle of recognition, no rainbow swirl of faceted eyes, just the dragonet, nudging against her, coiling around her, settling at her feet in silent watchfulness. Serdek stared, expression pure confusion. "...hello, little one," she said softly, reaching down to scratch those deep pink eyeridges. She wasn't sure why the dragon had come to her if he wasn't her intended, but she would take what she was given. "Why aren't you with Yours, hmm?" she went on in that same mild voice. It wasn't that she resented the dragonet's company like the guard he had tried to visit.

No, that wasn't it at all. Faranth, it was soothing to have the little dragon's company. Serdek continued her gentle attention to his eyeridges, letting the rhythmic motion soothe the worst of her anxiety. But nonetheless, she was worried for the sake of the dragonet. She wasn't sure how long they could stay unImpressed, but she didn't like the idea of trying to find out. And as much as she appreciated the pink's attention, she was worried that he'd get distracted and between and it would be all her fault.

But...as long as the yellow was still on the Sands, it seemed the pink would stick around. And Serdek found it pretty hard to contend with that. Straightening up, she clasped her hands once again behind her back and waited.

[lithle]

Welcome, Gaeth. You must be hungry, please have your rider bring you here. Faeth called out to the little purple. The tiny creatures were so very charming, she was delighted to have two in her class. Come to your left now, Obeth. You must join your clutchmates. The feeding area was becoming almost crowded, what with so many young dragons, Kitath shielding them, and Faeth watching over the entire operation.

And finally, because Faeth had such lovely plans for the future, she addressed the other adult green. You do so well with the little ones, Kitath. Please, tell your rider that mine would like a meeting, at his earliest convenience.

L'vey, mostly unaware of Faeth's micro-managing, managed a rare smile for Lanakirene, "I thank Faranth for the day they sent you, Master Dragonhealer," he told the woman. He nodded to her as she left, returning his attention back to his new charges.

"He'll be tired for awhile yet, R'en." Overhearing the young man's new chosen name, he was more than willing to use it. "Young dragons need lots of sleep."

Weaving his way through, he approached Lostris and Habilith, "Grayrider, I see Semith was right to ask you to the sands. May I ask a name?"

[nozomi]

Few things about this Hatching found M'onk joyous. Natai was pleased with the new little colors, cooed over how darling they all were, none of the Hatchlings went between, that a guard or two had been picked...

But those new colors.

So many.

Purple, more pinks, more grays - well, the gray he didn't mind over much, nor the white. There were records of whites, and it went to a responsible young man. That was fine. But while Natai looked delighted next to him, and M'onk smiled, his brain clicked and moved at a lightening speed. L'vey took this things in stride, and little wonder; one had to figure out how to cope if they were to face these each day. Mihkath, silent for once, sent his rider a quick, unspoken question. M'onk waved him off.

With this newest Impression, M'onk clapped politely from the Stands. His eyes followed the pink, hoping against hope he'd take the guard - but no. He went to a stoic young woman who did not seem to have Impressed. She looked back to the Sands after doting on the young creature, eyes trained. M'onk's jaw twitched. Natai did not notice.

"He's adorable." Natai whispered, her eyes bright. She had not been allowed to Stand, not until Semith laid a Gold egg. But it didn't mean she wouldn't near squirm beside him. "Oh, Grandfather, look. Have they Impressed?"

"I don't believe so." He glanced to the yellow, the hissing thing. "No. She isn't moving to the tables with the pink. He may just be there."

"Will he between?"

"I don't know, dear."

[puppetmaster]

Eggs were popping left and right now. While the Wounded Guardian Hatchling continued to hiss, her head whipping around in an attempt to watch everyone at once, the Pernese Totem Egg was rocking.

The Wounded Guardian Hatchling unaware of the imminent arrival of a new sibling stalked toward the candidates, hissing, her eyes an unpleasant mixture of yellow and red. She seemed disinclined to attack, however, only growling open threat at any and all.

It might have all gone down without bloodshed if an unfortunate young man hadn't sneezed.

The yellow shrieked, turning on the candidate, leaping at him and knocking him over.

At the same time, the Pernese Totem Egg burst open, spilling a small brown onto the sands. The Ancestory Hatchling galloped ran, half stumbling to where his sister was beginning to make a bloody mess of the unfortunate sneezer. He tackled the much larger yellow, knocking her off the victim. Then, with difficulty, he managed to lay on top of the yellow, pinning the struggling Wounded Guardian Hatchling in place.

There was a long moment when a fight seemed unavoidable. But the Ancestory Hatchling was crooning, a sweet, soft sound. The yellow for her part, shook a bit, but seemed to relax. Finally, the brown allowed her up, walking at her side, between her and the candidates, as she looked for hers.

The two made slow progress, the brown occasionally crooning over the yellows hiss, until they reached where the Dragon's Breath Hatchling had settled. All three dragons looked at Serdek.

Serdek. Let us go. This area is not secure. And he can not protect you so well as your Greboth can.

Name: Greboth

Art Type: African Tribal Mask

Hex code: FFFFBB

Appearance:

Greboth goes beyond lean into downright long. She has a narrow face with an almost pointed snout, a thin body and a whiplike tail. Her legs are short, giving her a moderate resemblance to a tunnelsnake with wings. There's a certain amount of menace to her appearance, a sense that despite her species she might somehow manage to be venomous.

For all her dangerous looks, there's something cuddly about her color. Her hide is a pale, buttery yellow, and it looks extremely soft and inviting. Her eyeridges and headknobs are marked with a much darker yellow, a warm amber that also flares along her shoulders and up her wings.

Personality:

There are dangers out there in the darkness. There are whispers rising out of dream and coming to hunt the just. Greboth knows. She's heard them. And yes, it's true, she's an extremely paranoid dragon. But that doesn't make her wrong, does it? At her hatching she found half her clutchmates missing, while the spectators minds hummed with fear. Even at the touching, she tasted grief. It's no surprise that she's very, very afraid. Not that she'd ever admit it. No, Greboth would call herself cautious, alert, and above all else, protective.

And she is protective. To start, the world she protects may be a small one, consisting of herself and her rider. She's not a big picture dragon, she's more interested in her own than in the greater good of the weyr. But she's got a soft spot for the fragile and the weak which, over time, will expand those who take shelter beneath her wings. This isn't to say she's maternal. Greboth is much more likely to bark orders like an irritable general then comfort and coddle. She's drawn to the weak, but she's driven to make them strong. So, grab a pointy thing, learn to use it, and watch your back!

If she drives her 'people' hard, she drives herself harder. Greboth's need to be prepare for the worst means that, given the freedom, she'll spend more time training than is actually healthy. If her rider doesn't learn to stand up to her and get her to rest, she will work herself sick. Despite this, she's not a great dragon for lessons. A doer, she's bored by anything that doesn't directly relate to combat readiness, which, really, is almost the entirety of weyrlinghood, since no ones training dragons to fight (yet).

While she can be curt and demanding, Greboth never crosses the line into actual meanness. She despises cruelty in others seeing it as a tool of the 'other side'. She'll do her best to get along with her siblings, and while she's not a peacemaker, she may be the one who tells the fighters to stop being silly and focus on more important things. And, while she may be a wall between her rider and the world, her rider will be the support beams holding that wall up. Her fears are very real and through most her weyrlinghood (and possibly well past it), she'll wake nightly with nightmares.

Why Me?

Greboth simultaneously needs to protect and be protected. Serdek, like Greboth, holds a lot of fear. And like Greboth, the woman is prepared to fight the demons that haunt her. Greboth and Serdek stand to offer each other a safety that the world at large denies them. While neither is social, Greboth does strive to gather a small collection of the fragile about her, an ambition that might offer Serdek a few new acquaintances, if not friends. One thing's for sure. While there's breath in Greboth's body, no one will hurt Serdek again.

One other thing of note which may have influenced Greboth's choice. She doesn't Fly. Indeed, she'll never Fly, even if Serdek reaches the point where she wants such an experience. Greboth's female, true enough, but some instinct or mechanism is missing or simply suppressed beyond retrieval.

---

The Ancestory Hatchling left his sister behind, continuing a bit further along the line before head-butting a man who's white robe was also trimmed with red.

Sorry to keep you waiting, Fekarn! My sister, well, she needed company. Now, I am here. And I will always be here. Let's get food. I am hungry, and you need to get off these hot sands.

Name: Gyaath

Art Type: Native Northwestern tribal art.

Hex Code: 661100

Appearance:

Small. Greboth is a little guy for a brown, all too long limbs and scrawny body. He'll grow into himself eventually, but he'll always be small. About the size of a large blue. He's a quick creature, on the ground and in the air, with a rather unique talent for swimming. Given the choice, he'll likely spend as much time in the water as in the air.

Greboth's hide is made up of great blocks of color. Some of him is a pale tan, while other spots are a dark, reddish-brown. The colors don't fade together or blend, but stand out against each other, creating a striking sort of contrast. His face is mostly dark, with one eye spashed tan, giving him an almost comical look.

Personality:

Semith may not be able to tell you the name of her dam, but Gyaath will know. Lineage is important to him and if it takes him pestering his rider for hours, he will be able to trace both his dam's and his sire's lines back as far as records allow. It's not just about bloodlines, though. It's about family and what goes into being a family. Just as his past is important to him, Gyaath has an unusually strong attachment to his clutchmates, even those he's lost to the Outlaws. He feels that loss keenly and desperately wishes the clutch to be united into one group again. Divided, they are weakened.

As important as his siblings are to Gyaath, he has a difficult time expressing it in a way that's understood. He's a serious dragon, devoted to the good of the Weyr as a whole. He tends to take a paternal tone when addressing other dragons, even his elders. He's not impolite. He's simply an old man before his time. And he's always got a 'suggestion' to offer, some gentle yet firm correction on how to behave more properly or fly more swiftly. For his part, he takes criticism extremely well and works hard to be as good a dragon as he expects of others.

Generosity is one of Gyaath's defining qualities. If he kills a herdbeast and another dragon happens by, he will offer up half. If another dragon admires his riding straps, he will happily surrender them to the admirer. Even his poor riders time is not their own. If Gyaath's being oiled, he'll offer his rider's services to anyone nearby that needs an oiling. Yet, Gyaath expects others to be as generous as he is, and other dragons should be prepared to be scolded for rudeness if they're not as open with their time and their things as he is.

The whole of the Weyr is Gyaath's family but his rider is its heart. He isn't possessive, unlike some dragons (those dragons can expect a talking to) but he is very involved in their life. He has something to say about their friends, let alone their lovers. He has opinions about what they're having for breakfast (it better be healthy). He has something to say about their sleeping habits (early to bed and early to rise!). They're depressed? Gyaath will fix it, never fear. Depression isn't productive. Yep, Gyaath's rider needn't worry about anything because they've got their very own babysitter hovering over their every move.

Why Me?

Gyaath required someone who could stand up to him. Anyone with a passive personality would be quickly dominated by such an outspoken brown. In Fekarn, he found a man who was capable of holding his own, but one who also needed guidance. It's in Gyaath's nature to try and help, and Fekarn still needs help fighting dust addiction and the impulse to steal. Gyaath is strong enough to keep those urges under control should Fekarn need him to help, and stubborn enough to sit on his face should the situation demand it.

[Spiffy]

"I think Kitath is very happy. She's looking after the babies, and she always likes looking after things. Usually me," Shea added sardonically, but with a smile anyway.

"It's a shame that she's not metallic. I think she'd love to one day have a clutch of her own," he mused, more to himself than T'di really, though the bluerider could easily have heard it.

Then another egg hatched, spilling a yellow who immediately set up a violent hissing. Sh'lon stiffened with worry, sensing Kitath's own worry and glancing over to her as she mantled her wings, shielding the new Weyrlings.

Kitath turned her head to Faeth when the older green spoke. I will do that, she said in response, her eyes taking on a more amused blue tone, overshadowing the yellow of worry, but after he has calmed down a bit, I think. I would give you a day to settle the little ones in with their new riders, I think, so noon tomorrow, if that is convenient for you? We leave off duty then.

Kitath. More than capable of organising her rider's life for him.

She was distracted then (and so was Shea) by a shriek from the sands, head whipping around to see the yellow launching herself on an unfortunate spectator. She made no sound, but shuffled her wings a little bit to better shield the babies, eyes whirling a faster yellow. The pair were even more shocked by the appearance then of a brown, which tackled his sister off of the young man and proceeded to sit on his chest. Kitath bugled in alarm then, anticipating a fight, not daring to leave her 'post' but... there was no fight. The yellow settled. Thank Faranth, thought Shea, as the brown led her peacefully to the candidates, waiting until she found her rider (ironically the one the pink was curled around) before settling in front of his own. Two Impressions, and so close to each other! He wondered who the pink would go to now.

[firebird]

Obeth turned to Faeth when she began speaking with him. This was the Weyrlingmaster's dragon. This was someone to listen to. Senar, take my wing again. We are being called. he said to his new weyrling as he stretched out the offered limb. Louder, he answered the green with We come, ma'am!

Senar wasn't entirely sure what was going on, just that Obeth was leading him somewhere again. They were being called? By whom? Was he in trouble for something? Oh, no, it was because he wasn't prompt enough in feeding the hatchling, wasn't it? He was going to be held up as an example as to what not to do, and then he would be, um... How exactly were weyrlings disciplined? Put on garbage duty? Made to stand up for hours on end holding buckets of water?

Calm down, lad! Obeth chided as he led Senar over to where his clutchmates were gathered. Once there, he sat down, folded his wings neatly against his back (Senar yelped as he was forced to let go, having not been able to interpret the dragon's thoughts in time), and turned his attention to watching the rest of his siblings hatch. They would not discipline anyone for such a minor thing!

Hunger? Ghostly pain from his rider? Just minor discomforts to be tolerated.

[tuathade]

I’m helping, Merceth informed Siata directly. In case the outlaws come back. I haven’t seen any yet.

C’ross snorted, but declined to comment on his dragon’s vigilance. There was a ghost of a smile on his face, though, at Siata’s question. “He’s… better. We’re both doing better.” He offered no further details, but the way he said better – he wasn’t just saying it for Siata’s benefit. It was true. Months of patience were beginning to have an effect. They weren’t back to the way they were before the Incident (and C’ross had accepted that was a thing that would never happen) but the new ‘normal’ was an acceptable situation. I’saac was more responsive, starting to take an interest in life again. “You and Siatask helped.”

And then Siata started making ridiculous amounts of noise and flailing ridiculously. Apparently Siata liked the female guard who had just Impressed. Or at least this was the logical conclusion from all of the FUCK YEAHing and grabbing at him and waving. Someone else not too far away in the Stands was also shouting for the woman. A popular guard, then. C’ross grumbled on principle, mostly at all the grabbing and the noise – “Do you have to yell in my ear?” – but he didn’t actually make any attempt to make Siata stop. It was a Hatching after all, and she was just happy for her friend.

More weyrlings was good for Warden’s. It meant a break for the current guards, once they’d graduated and could join wings. He found himself observing the new riders with a squadleader’s critical eye for a moment, gauging who’d be an asset to the prison weyr and who’d need more work, until he remembered – oh right. He wouldn’t be tapping any of them to join his wing, now or ever. Shards.

[maggie]

Kaydian was trying hard not to be terrified. This was past his usual discomfort that forced him to tidy things. He was pinned on the spot as the excitement of the hatching turned to anxiety and terror. For comfort, he looked towards Semith. The hatching would be good for the gold, and he liked her, so he tried to comfort himself with that thought.

The hatchings were intense. He hadn't expected it to be so. The only other hatching he had seen had been Logs and flitts were a far cry from their draconic cousins, he realised. He could hear his brown's encouraging, soothing hum from the stands. He looked over him and saw the little brown give his best flittappoint face at every hatching that passed his person by. He could tell, though, that Log was pleased. He wasn't sure how the flitt would feel about sharing.

The violent yellow sent Kaydian straight back into terror and he shrunk back a bit, hiding at the very back of where the candidates were standing. He had no wish to be torn to shreds. He instinctively started looking for patterns in the eggshells, trying to resist the urge to skitter away to a corner of the sands to tidy it, or to hide behind the stands with Log. Maybe the dragons had been wrong, he wasn't a good candidate. He was just going to stand here and be eaten and... He gulped, trying to calm himself and looking to Semith again, almost as if asking for guidance.

[Inkwell]

So Afilith would be tired for some time yet? R'en was okay with that. It meant he'd soon have a sleepy, chubby dragonet on his hands, and that was going to be all kinds of amazing. He just hoped that Afilith didn't fall asleep here at the sands, because carrying him all the way up the weyrling barracks -- oh, shards, he was going to have to move all of his belongings and everything too, wasn't he, that'd be fun -- would be... an adventure, to say the least.

He was distracted in his continued feeding of his new life partner by the arrival of a particular new candidate -- the boy who he'd been narrating to! Oh, good. He'd managed to Impress, and to what looked like a very classy brown.

"Hey, congratulations!" he shot in the boy's direction. "I told you could do it, didn't I? Your brown is gorgeous, by the way. What's his name?"

Gorgeous is like handsome, yes?

Yes, dear. Eat a little slower. If you gorge now you'll feel even more tired later. The pet name just slipped in before he could stop it, but, well... Afilith was dear to him. He was the other half that R'en had even known he'd been missing. That sort of bond deserved that sort of term of endearment.

[giftwrapped]

She couldn't keep her eyes off the yellow. Even the pink's presence, comforting as it was, couldn't prevent Serdek from staring anxiously after the creature. She was...she wasn't attacking anything, thank Faranth, but she was moving along the Candidates like some sort of predatory creature. In a way, she reminded Serdek of a tunnelsnake, or maybe a wild feline. The growling was disconcerting, but at least she hadn't shown any particularly violent tendencies other than the yellow-and-red eyes just ye-

The boy sneezed.

The yellow attacked. And a newly-hatched brown came after the creature, leaping at her and knocking her out of the way. Serdek tensed more, staring as she waited for a fight to break out. There was going to be blood spilled, though she wasn't sure if it would be humans' red stuff or the dragons' ichor. ...But then, the yellow stopped and the brown climbed off her, nudging her and forming a barrier between her and the Candidates as she resumed her prowling. Tense and anxious, Serdek held her breath as the pair approached her. And...stopped. In front of her.

Sweet golden egg of Faranth, that was a lot of dragons.

Serdek. Let us go. This area is not secure. And he can not protect you so well as your Greboth can.

"Greboth!"

Serdek gave a cry of surprise that was nearly a scream, lunging forward and forgetting the pink coiled around her legs, tripping but managing to stumble just shy of the creature and avoid giving him anything more painful than perhaps a foot to the ribs, collapsing on the ground and curling in a tight, protective ball around the yellow, who was simultaneously trying to coil around her and rumbling in something that might have been a purr - so harsh and loud it vibrated through Serdek's entire body. She felt it like she was purring herself, thrumming through her with the warmth of Impression, the sudden feeling of not being alone - never being alone.

Never alone, no. We are together. Greboth agreed with a fierceness that rivaled her new rider's intensity. She leaned her head up, nuzzling gently against Serdek's head, the rumble turning slowly to a soft croon. She could feel Greboth going through her mind and memories, could feel the new presence in her head seeking to learn everything she could about her. Greboth was here now. I am here for you and I will protect you from them. That is what dragons do. There was a rumble in Greboth's voice, then, a fierceness in her mind that Serdek realized must be related to what she had found in her rider's head. But there was the echo of fear there, too. Greboth had found Serdek's past and she was afraid of it.

Serdek squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willing away tears that threatened to burst. She would not cry. She would not show that kind of weakness. Not to the little dragon held so tightly in her arms that for a moment, Serdek couldn't figure out how to disentangle herself. "No, love, there's nothing to fear," she whispered. She didn't even notice the brown moving to find His, so wrapped up was she in the strange new feeling of a mind attached to her own.

Serdek, do not lie to me.

"Right here, right now, Greboth. There is nothing to be afraid of. Maybe out there, maybe someday. But not now. Now, we're safe."

We won't always be. We'll be ready.

"Yes." Lips pressed lightly against the yellow's neck, Serdek took a deep, shuddering breath before shifting to look at the Sands. She glanced back to the pink. "Thank you," she mouthed to the little creature, but she didn't move, didn't reach out to touch him. Her arms were full of Greboth and that was fine with her. And for a moment, fear abated, Greboth settled, allowing the fierce hunger she had kept at bay to gnaw slightly at her. Serdek grunted, glancing over at the tables where the Weyrlingmaster stood.

"We shouldn't keep them waiting," she said gruffly, and Greboth rumbled reluctant agreement. Serdek shifted, trying to figure out the best way to stand up from her position on the ground, arms full of yellow. Eventually, she managed it, shifting her grip on the heavy (surprisingly so; yellows were big!) dragonet and moving with a sharp purpose to join the other Weyrlings. She had done it. With Greboth, she had done it.

[nozomi]

Oh sweet golden baby dragon, Serdek was gonna get mauled. She had a pink wrapped around her legs (keeping her in place?) And the pissed off yellow and brown coming towards her. Afteer a muttered "Yes I do need to scream in your ear" at C'ross, she squeezed at the poor mans arm. Her guard friend had Impressed without any problems but, Serdek? Fffff. She was the fuckin' dragon whisperer.

"Aw, shards, don't maul her. Don't mau- what?" Serdek screamed, launched herself forward, and clung to the very NOT mauling yellow as if she were the only thing in the world. Maybe she was. Once Impressed, they generally were. Siata did what any friend would, what she'd done for Lostris: a whoop, and a bellow.

"SERDEK! Yes!" And the hat came off, waved around as if in celebration (it was) and then she smacked C'ross in the chest with it. Siata didn't lose that wide, stupid, teeth flashing smile. "She Impressed too! Ha! Yes!"

She fist-pumped the empty air, and cheered.

Being loud was a good thing... even if no one else appreciated it.

[puppetmaster]

Dragon's Breath let out an 'oomph' when Serdek got that foot to his side. Her had mind enough to slide away. To his credit, the pink had mind enough to not let out a sad song as some of his clutchmates may have; he did what he did to keep the woman soothed while Greboth calmed, and it was Good.

He streteched again, surveying the crowds around him. Some stared back, while others looked away. Did they not want him? Never mind! The pink had better things to do.

Like sneak up on his rider.

Dragon's Breath crept, silent as could be, to His. His tail whipped, a pouncing felines, and his head lowered to the sand. Whichever way he wasn't looking in, the pink stalked.

Kaskirk! and he pounced, diving at his humans feet and butting him in the thigh. You haven't earned the right to be disrespectful. Your Cordyth will help with that.


Name: Cordyth
Color: Pink
Flower: Dragon's Tongue
Hex: FF11FF

Appearance: it's true that Cordyth is not the largest of his pink brothers, but nor is he the smallest. A middling sized boy, the pink is pretty much a lion in a dragons hide - a male lion, thick legged and large claws, square muzzle with a lean middle, long slim tail. He carries himself as if he were the king of the wild as well, though he would rather show then tell.[

His hide is near maroon, unmarred except for the bright splashes of color along his muzzle and chest. Even his nails are the deep pink, solidifying the "wholeness".

Personality: While not the largest specimen of his color, Cordyth has command over a presence. He does not front or attempt to boast about his accomplishments, or even about how utterly masculine he is, because Cordyth is a dragon that shows and does not tell. Does he think he is big and bad? Of course he does. This doesn't mean he expects you to just believe him. Only fools trust without being shown! If he thinks he can fly the quickest of his clutchmates, Cordyth will be damn sure to practice, practice, and practice some more because he is going to prove himself to others.

Hand in hand with that is honor. It has nothing to do with upholding the laws of every single bossman/bosswoman he and his rider may have, thank goodness. No, Coryth's honor is more along the lines of keeping promises he makes, or even vague insinuations that he may do something. It has to do with guarding any eggs he may sire, and making sure that the children are kept safe and sound until they are adults. This pink will obey the person his rider views as a leadership figure, and if they are a rider, will not hesitate to flirt regardless of color until told to stop it. Respect means love, shardit! Or at least grudging show of falsified love.

With his insistence of keeping up with his promises and responsibilities, it's lucky that Cordyth has such a high tolerance for complete and utter wherryshit. Others may spout off random news and stupid opinions, and Cordyth will simply listen. Why bother to argue? People won't learn. They will keep their opinions of idiocy, and he will have to prove them wrong, is all. Undeniable proof may just be the sanest way to shut people up. Annoying weyrlings (especially his own) may annoy without worry of being snapped at. His rider whining will get nary an eyelid twitch, save for perhaps a mild remark or scolding for not being as ready and willing to believe Cordyth as they should be.

Because Cordyth loves his rider. He wouldn't have picked them if he didn't, and didn't know they would love him back. He is a dominating presence, very affectionate to those he deems worth protecting and caring for, and his rider should expect cuddles more often then not. He is a protector, even when he knows the rider in question can more then care for themselves. Once it's discovered an atyp can harm a human... Well. Watch out humans, if you ever hurt His. Cordyth will not kill, or main, but few things can be more frightening then a large, brightly colored dragon with teeth and an intent to hurt you - with the ability to do so.

Why Me? If asked, Cordy would probably lie and say he didn't know WHY Kaskirk. There were other, smarter humans, more mature and actually wanted a dragon. They didn't ignore him or tell him to scoot! (He may be paraphrasing.) However, he knows why Kaskirk - underneath it all is a capable leader that just needs to be... helped. Kas has a big mouth and a wandering gaze, and Cordy can show him how to walk the walk along with his attempts to talk the talk. Kas is the mascuuline presence Cordy needed, someone of (somewhat hidden) strength. Despite being an atyp, Cordy knows he and Kas can rise in the ranks of others respect.