11.Mar.14, 11:34 AM
The responsibility of being a dragonrider, of tending to one’s lifemate, had always been something that came before all else; it would always be the number one responsibility of any man or woman that found themselves with a dragon. R’nya was not surprised when Peorray declined to accompany him. He knew why she did so, and he knew that, in the end, it was the most wise course of action. Responsibility to the dragon, rather than the child, was a way of life for dragonriders. Why else would they so readily give up claims to parenthood?
He nodded just once, a firm motion of acceptance without judgement, and waited patiently for Peorray to say her final goodbyes. His expression gentle, R’nya took a step backwards when Peorray retreated to Wydrith, before turning smartly on his heel and approaching Xyreith. The child was handed over to Xyreith, for a moment, as R’nya climbed aboard, with the great bronze passing Soren back once he was carefully in place and belted in. R’nya cradled the child’s body as his dragon crouched, bounding skyward with great sweeps of his wings a moment later.
They vanished between; a few breaths later, and the pair reappeared, perfectly on par with where they had vanished from, and Xyreith slowly lowered himself to the ground. R’nya’s arms were empty, but he could feel the weight of what he’d done resting over his shoulders. It wasn’t right, that one so young and with so much promise had been lost. But nor was it right htat so many of the Weyrlings had lost their lives, and R’nya hadn’t needed to be told by Xyreith that many of the older riders had been working overtime, dropping half-alive boys into the black void where they could find the bond they once claimed.
R’nya dismounted when Xyreith landed, making his way quietly to where woman and dragon were waiting. He did not bother to say anything; instead, he placed a light hand on Peorray’s arm, just above her elbow, and a light kiss to her temple. There was nothing he could do, or say, that would make the world better for the woman – but if she needed a friend, he would always be there. Retracting his hand gently (he had no desire to crowd Peorray), R’nya studied her face for a moment. “You should get some rest,” he knew she wouldn’t, but it would not be proper of him not to make the suggestion.
Behind him, Xyreith gave a low snort, before reaching over to give Wydrith’s shoulder a gentle nudge, rumbling a soft reassurance. The little gold was one of the most ridiculously flighty creatures he’d ever met (and Xyreith was not above making snide – and very private – comments about her nature to R’nya) but the bronze wasn’t completely cruel and he would certainly never piss R’nya off intentionally. Being a prick to Wydrith, that would piss R’nya off; so he played nice, as he always had, and kept his opinions to himself.
He nodded just once, a firm motion of acceptance without judgement, and waited patiently for Peorray to say her final goodbyes. His expression gentle, R’nya took a step backwards when Peorray retreated to Wydrith, before turning smartly on his heel and approaching Xyreith. The child was handed over to Xyreith, for a moment, as R’nya climbed aboard, with the great bronze passing Soren back once he was carefully in place and belted in. R’nya cradled the child’s body as his dragon crouched, bounding skyward with great sweeps of his wings a moment later.
They vanished between; a few breaths later, and the pair reappeared, perfectly on par with where they had vanished from, and Xyreith slowly lowered himself to the ground. R’nya’s arms were empty, but he could feel the weight of what he’d done resting over his shoulders. It wasn’t right, that one so young and with so much promise had been lost. But nor was it right htat so many of the Weyrlings had lost their lives, and R’nya hadn’t needed to be told by Xyreith that many of the older riders had been working overtime, dropping half-alive boys into the black void where they could find the bond they once claimed.
R’nya dismounted when Xyreith landed, making his way quietly to where woman and dragon were waiting. He did not bother to say anything; instead, he placed a light hand on Peorray’s arm, just above her elbow, and a light kiss to her temple. There was nothing he could do, or say, that would make the world better for the woman – but if she needed a friend, he would always be there. Retracting his hand gently (he had no desire to crowd Peorray), R’nya studied her face for a moment. “You should get some rest,” he knew she wouldn’t, but it would not be proper of him not to make the suggestion.
Behind him, Xyreith gave a low snort, before reaching over to give Wydrith’s shoulder a gentle nudge, rumbling a soft reassurance. The little gold was one of the most ridiculously flighty creatures he’d ever met (and Xyreith was not above making snide – and very private – comments about her nature to R’nya) but the bronze wasn’t completely cruel and he would certainly never piss R’nya off intentionally. Being a prick to Wydrith, that would piss R’nya off; so he played nice, as he always had, and kept his opinions to himself.