Some help here? [R'nya]

Xyreith was just getting back from his morning hunt, the bronze dragon curling up in a nice space outside the dining hall and cleaning himself meticulously while R’nya finished up his own breakfast, the bronzerider picking up an apple and buffering it on his shirt as he walked quietly out of the hall, nodding to someone that called out a greeting but not bothering to stop and chat. He really wasn’t into the mindless babble a lot of his fellows seemed keen to engage in, and he really wasn’t interested in listening to people bitch about S’kef taking power and how bronzes were better and blah blah blah.

Bronzes are better. a pause. Sir The sound of Xyreith’s voice was muffled with irritation at his lifemate’s thoughts; the dragon was entirely convinced that a bronze (most specifically, himself) should have been the one in the cosy position of Weyrleader’s dragon, while his human took the worshipping attentions of those that were below him, as they should all be located. R’nya ignored his dragon’s bad mood and mouthy comment, biting into his apple as he left the Hall, bowing slightly to one of the Candidate girls he was usually surrounded by. Unlike the rest of the male population, R’nya wasn’t a sexual creature, and his time spent with the young women was entirely innocent; he was a friend they didn’t need to worry about trying to get into their pants.

Even though most would like you there, Xyreith inserted, his tone somewhere between bitter and amused. The bronze dragon enjoyed Flying, and he especially enjoyed it when his bonded took time to Fly pretty ladies. That he so very rarely did so only increased the bronze dragon’s desire to Fly anything, which mostly resulted in him occasionally winning a female ridden green. He was accepting enough of his human’s odd quirks to not fly the ones who claimed a human of the same sex as his rider. Xyreith supposed he could understand the disdain. After all, bronzes didn’t fly blue!

R’nya shook his head slightly in response to Xyreith’s snippy comment, before halting suddenly and peering with a blink up at the green dragon that had just landing right in front of him. The bronzerider’s face was stoic as he waited, his mild distaste with being bespoken by another dragon not showing on his face as he raised an eyebrow at the green beast, while Xyreith walked over placidly, but with an air about him that was far more a predator eyeing off his next meal. The bronze didn’t bother to speak, but he so rarely bespoke anyone but R’nya that that was no surprise.

“Help her how, Shanith?” R’nya’s voice was mild and not particularly giving away of how he was feeling about the excitable dragon’s appearance as he waited for her rider to appear from somewhere. She usually wasn’t too far behind the beast when she went on her expeditions. She’s coming, Sir, his dragon warned him mildly moments before R’ana came into view, and the bronzerider turned just slightly, so he could address her rather than the dragon as she came to a stop before them.

“She has not done anything,” R’nya assured her quietly, (yet) ignoring his dragon’s input as he nodded in greeting before continuing, “Shanith has simply requested our assistance. She has yet to explain with what.” An eyebrow arched upward, as if asking the woman if she had any idea what your silly creature was talking about, for he most certainly did not!