Your Love... [Z'ia]

Wing Practice had been called to an early finish when one of the female greenriders in their group had gone into labour. Generally speaking, Z'ia was aware that such things would certainly not warrant a closure of a wing practice, and certainly would be more inclined to have the wing work even harder in order to cover the unexpected loss - it might not be something as traumatic as someone going between, but it was unexpected none-the-less. Unfortunately, the pair were on the younger side of things and the draogn had freaked out. Aveleth had murmured something about the woman having lost babies throughout her pregnancies before, and Z'ia had supposed that accounted for why a flock of greenriders had suddenly turned into all knowing mid-wives and run around like headless wherries until T'rel had had enough and dismissed them all.

Not that Z'ia minded! A free afternoon was always welcome, and while wing practice was hardly a terrible way to spend his time, Aveleth was not as naturally inclined to the games that were played as some of the other dragons. It wasn't that the blue couldn't do the required manouvers, but rather that his timid nature and self consiousness increased his probability of messing something up, and embarressing himself. Being even more consious of how people and dragons alike were more inclined to watch him as a result, only increased the timid dragon's unease, and made him even more likely to screw up. This usually resulted in Z'ia becoming exasperated and short tempered - almost entierly aimed at his wingmates - and he'd been spoken to on more than one occassion for snapping at T'rel and C'vir both.

The pair had left the main wing quietly, with Z'ia stalking off in a huff after having another argument with one of his fellow blueriders, pointedly cold shouldering D'hys as he left the group, he was pleased when the older bluerider didn't follow after him. Aveleth, naturally worried he was hte cause of all the bad things in the universe, slunk along behind Z'ia after shooting a sad, apologetic look at D'hys and Zeianth. Neither spoke for quite a lenght of time, with Z'ia stalking through the fields and Aveleth quietly slinking along behind, sad eyes now locked on the ground at his rider's heels.

Someone is ahead, Aveleth's voice was a very soft whisper against the edge of Z'ia's mind, and the young man stopped suddenly, eyes scanning ahead where Aveleth's knowledge unintentionally directed him, while he quietly allowed his dragon to nudge his nose up against him and he petted his blue muzzle gently. Who is it? He wasn't in the mood to put up with some people, and the ones that immediately came to mind (fucking goldriders) made his shoulders twitch in irritation. He did not need more of his brain bleeding out through his ears in clumps of disolved mush from listening to them babble about bullshit crap he simply didn't care about but had put himself in such a position as to be so happy to hear it. What had his life become?!

Aveleth broke into his thoughts gently, brushing away the negativity about such lovely girls as Rhaedalyn and Ameris and their very pretty little gold dragons, even if they would never be quite as lovely as Rilaleeyth... A child of the weyr. Withdrawing his nose gently from Z'ia's light hands, Aveleth eased around him (quietly ignoring the man's eyeroll and sigh) and walked with timid excitement to where the girl was eating her lunch on the grass, his eyes swirling a gentle blue-green as he stopped some few feet away. He didn't speak, which almost took Z'ia by surprise after listening to the young blue dragon babble to Rhaedalyn so much recently.

Sighing to himself when he was still hidden behind his dragon, Z'ia planted a cheerful smile on his lips and made sure to put the bounce back into his step as he came back into sight, grinning in a friendly manner at the youngster. He had no fucking idea who she was, and wouldn't have given a hoot either, if it weren't for his dragon lowering himself to be laying down before the girl, with his nose extended towards her and a hopeful look quite clearly painted on his face. Z'ia's expression altered dramatically to one of clear dramatics. "... Are there cinnamon buns around?" He asked lightly, tone laughing. Aveleth had a terrible soft spot for cinnamon buns, though he was usually quite fussy about whom he would accept them from; the girl would probably not be able to actively get Aveleth to take a bun from her, but he would be happy to eat it if Z'ia gave it to him. Aveleth's hopeful look never wavered from Casa.