07.May.13, 10:55 AM
T'rielle was more than happy to take 'interesting' as an answer. There were certainly parents about the Weyr who were more than vocal about their dislike for dragons interacting with their children (completely ignoring the fact that the kids were generally the instigators). And unfortunately for the rider, it wasn't the dragon that parents came screaming to when they finally found where their kid had run off to. On the other hand, Caxith wasn't the sort to chase them off unless she was in a dour mood, even if she wasn't particularly playful. That, for the most part, she left to T'rielle, if only because she knew that he likely wouldn't do anything about it unless she complained.
He wasn't stupid, though he sometimes neglected to comprehend why, exactly, the Northerners were so adverse to their lot here. But then, he couldn't quite comprehend why anyone would have had problems with getting the chance to Impress a dragon. Growing up in a Weyr did that to people, clouded their perception, he supposed. It wasn't an issue that T'rielle tended to linger on for more than a couple minutes, and this time was no different. He gave a grin that wasn't dulled in the least by Isscer's hesitance when the other man answered his query.
"Oh, so I should in part be thanking you for breakfast this morning!" He said brightly. It wasn't a normal thought for him, by a long shot. "Oh, I doubt that! I remember there was this one boy, before the exile, who stood for eight Turns before he finally Impressed. Your dragon hasn't been clutched yet, that's all." He paused a moment, then backpedaled. "Not, of course, to say they didn't care about your Craft skills, though." He finished lamely.Nicely saved. His dragon purred, now solidly entrenched on her back in the mud, water lapping over a single outstretched wing.
He wasn't stupid, though he sometimes neglected to comprehend why, exactly, the Northerners were so adverse to their lot here. But then, he couldn't quite comprehend why anyone would have had problems with getting the chance to Impress a dragon. Growing up in a Weyr did that to people, clouded their perception, he supposed. It wasn't an issue that T'rielle tended to linger on for more than a couple minutes, and this time was no different. He gave a grin that wasn't dulled in the least by Isscer's hesitance when the other man answered his query.
"Oh, so I should in part be thanking you for breakfast this morning!" He said brightly. It wasn't a normal thought for him, by a long shot. "Oh, I doubt that! I remember there was this one boy, before the exile, who stood for eight Turns before he finally Impressed. Your dragon hasn't been clutched yet, that's all." He paused a moment, then backpedaled. "Not, of course, to say they didn't care about your Craft skills, though." He finished lamely.