An Autumn Agenda [OPEN]

C'vir lapsed easily into silence, content to leave Z'ia to his own devices as they both set to oiling their dragons. The brownrider enjoyed the chore almost as much as Besulth did; he'd had plenty of practice, and his familiarity with the task allowed him to empty his mind as he worked, a respite from thought he rarely received elsewhere. It wasn't uncommon for him to forget time entirely as he worked over the brown's almond shaded hide, losing himself in the rhythm of the task -- until the dragon started talking. Some days Besulth was better than others at enjoying his oilings silently: this afternoon was not destined to be one of them. He crooned lowly, pleased with his rider's thorough work. I can't imagine why you wouldn't want to do this every day. The rider shook his head, applying a generous amount of oil to a dry patch he'd discovered on the brown's chest. If you weren't so damn big, maybe I would. The dragon, in inspired response, drew himself up to full height, putting the area of his hide on which C'vir had been working well out of reach and leaving the man to stare up at him, hands on his hips. "And you wonder why I don't oil you more often," he chided aloud. He swatted the dragon's foreleg gently for good measure, waiting until the brown completely lowered himself before he resumed his work. "You have to be difficult, don't you?"  The query was voiced softly and with no lack of tenderness. You'd have no fun if I was well-behaved.

C'vir swivelled, drawn back to Z'ia by the sound of his question. "There's no telling with Krypth," he answered with a snort, reflecting on the gold's mating habits. Krypth's fertility wasn't necessarily a cause for complaint -- she was certainly doing her part to populate Katila -- but there were very few who weren't amused by the frequency of her reproduction. She rose more often than Okalinath and Nirinath combined, not that anyone expected much from the senior queen. "She's certainly... prolific, in her own way. I'm convinced she spends more time on the Sands than off."

The bluerider's second question gave rise to a noncommittal shrug, followed promptly by a deceptively offhand reply. "Whenever Besulth decides to make a go of it. So far he hasn't seemed interested, which is surprising, given how much he enjoys chasing greens." He paused to glare in the brown's direction, never one to miss an opportunity to make his displeasure with greenflight participation known. "He'd have a chance with Krypth, what with her apparent preference for browns." Besulth rumbled indignantly, unwilling to be sold short by his rider's breezy reply. I'd have more than a chance with any of them, thank you. On this point, C'vir was willing to concede, trusting the brown's estimations of his own abilities. And all in due time! At the moment, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself if I caught a gold. It's you I'm waiting on, really. The brown, maddeningly, was right -- his rider, for all his ambitions, wasn't prepared for the sudden and demanding changes that winning a gold flight could potentially bring.

"I'm starting to think he has better judgment than I do, waiting. Catching a queen can be troublesome -- look at where it got D'ren." There were undoubtedly far more complicated reasons for the attempt on the former Weyrleader's life than the fact that his dragon had repeatedly caught Nirinath, but it ultimately boiled down to the man's position of power, a position partially based on Ronarth's successes. A bit of a heavy topic for such a pleasant afternoon, the brown remarked, his tone cautionary despite its lightness. C'vir sent the dragon the mental equivalent of a nod, equally eager to switch to less trying topics of conversation. He didn't care to publicly speculate about the poisoning, nor did he feel the need to bring the new Weyrleader, about whom he had yet to fully form an opinion, into the discussion. He quickly volunteered a different line of discussion: "Enough of politics. Instead, perhaps you can tell me the secret to having a dragon that doesn't torment you constantly. Aveleth seems quite the sweetheart."