If it's not good news, I don't want to hear it...[B'jin]

Ronarth yawned lazily and shifted himself about in his little wallow. He was enjoying the hot summer sun.  Much like a large canine, the dragon rolled onto his back with legs in the air, belly pointed upwards and chest rumbling softly. He loved the sensation of the sun caressing his glossy hide. It could only be more perfect if there was a slight breeze to keep the air moving!

Larrikith is asking about you! he said in a sing-song voice. He angled his head towards the hut, where he knew his bonded was hard at work...as always.

Excellent D'ren replied. He panted once and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow before narrowing his eyes back at the paperwork in front of him. He didn't like it any more than Tsuen did, but he was quite willing to tolerate it. Furthermore, he was good at it. His brain thrived on order, and he preferred preempting problems.

If only he knew what a problem was coming his way.

Ronarth may or may not have suspected. Larrikith, D'ren is expecting news about a new candidate! Is it good news? Is it? he asked eagerly. He didn't move from his awkward position, but he did begin to flicker his tail back and forth eagerly. He liked the young humans. They were so full of energy, and often so interested in him!

Don't bother her, pet D'ren said softly. He wasn't entirely sure what Ronarth was doing. He sensed that Ronarth was bespeaking Larrikith, though, and that was enough to assume he was being pester-some. The rider smiled a bit and slid the paperwork away, having added his signature to the last piece.

He stood and stretched. "All finished!" he said with a burst of self-satisfaction. It felt so good to be productive!

At this rate, nothing could ruin today!

B'jin was less than enthusiastic as he exited the Isle hut and made his way out to join Larrikith as the dragon ambled back up from the shore line; she'd gone back into the water when B'jin was taking Talian to his room. Salt water dripping down her well rounded form, the little dragon approached her rider with much more enthusiasm.

D'ren is waiting, she said cheerfully, extending her wings and giving them a flutter to dispel water droplets. B'jin frowned slightly and his shoulders slumped for a moment. Carefully, he twirled the tube of parchment in his hands, B'jin paused sadly for a moment, terrified to continue - but more afraid not to. Sighing, he swung up onto Larrikith's back, grimacing in disgust at the wet leathers.

"Wonderful. Now I'll get scolded for not taking care of my gear too!" B'jin grumbled, very out of character, and sighing, swung down again. "Here, let's take those off. I'm not going to have you in wet gear when we get over to D'ren's hut." With Larrikith's assistance, B'jin quickly tugged all the wet leather off the dragon, and lugged it inside the entrance way. Dumping it, he promised himself he'd come and get it later, once it was dry (assuming the young men and women on the Isle didn't destroy it) and give it a thorough oil. Or he'd end up making new ones, but hunting without leathers was difficult and dangerous - but not quite as much as doing so with cracked leather.

Can we go yet? Larrikith snapped, irritated by the constant delaying. Great Faranth you're worse than a Weyrlingmaster delaying between!

That startled a laugh out of B'jin, and he shook himself as he swung once more aboard his dragon, aware of a few Isle-bound watching with varying degrees of interest.

"Okay, love, let's go."

Finally! Spreading her wings, Larrikith pushed off strongly and shot up into the air, her green wings pressing down strongly to catch her weight above the ground, and in a beautiful display of gravity defiance, they climbed into the air. Turning carefully on a wingtip, Larrikith shot off in the direction of Katila Weyr.

That depends on one's definition of 'good', Ronarth, Larrikith deadpanned as she carefully adjusted her body to land lightly in a gap between D'ren's personal hut and those that surrounded it. Fluttering her wings, she settled them on her back and sat down like a feline, looking very irritable. Despite her continual blaming of B'jin, Larrikith was well aware of the fact that if she had dug enough in the young man's mind, she would have discovered both his rank, and his apparent lack of a stable mind.

B'jin slid down off his dragon, and cautiously approached the doorway. He paused, almost dramatically, though his expression looked like he was about to be sick, and tapped almost too lightly to count as a knock on it. After a split second, he knocked a little louder and carefully opened the door, peering in timidly before slipping through the small crack and closing it behind him. Stepping forward cautiously, B'jin approached D'ren, still looking slightly terrified.

"D'ren? We may have an issue." He was, however, proud that his voice came out clear and strong as he stood near trembling before the Weyrleader. This would not be fun.

Initially, D'ren was pleased and even a tiny bit excited to hear from B'jin. They would been more potential candidates soon, and B'jin had such an excellent record! He was certain the greenrider wouldn't fail him this time, either. Therefore, in cheerful anticipation of B'jin's arrival, he started to clear off his desk and straighten up. He was normally a pretty neat guy, but when work piled up he sometimes fell behind. Company was a good excuse to get some cleaning done.

Then, Larrikith approached. Ronarth let out a husky bellow in greeting, but his enthusiam was cut short. Something seemed...off. They're here Ronrath informed his lifemate, finally rolling back onto his belly and tossing his head and neck like a dog shaking off water, though in this case it was dust.

I...would ask Ronarth said to the green, his eyes flushing yellow with concern. But..I suppose I'll just wait on an explanation. Well this didn't sound good. Larrikith told it like it was, and it things went well she'd have said so. Her avoidance of the question confused Ronarth, but even this dim-witted dragon knew something was amiss. The bronze creeled. D'ren, I'm worried. Larrikith doesn't seem very happy

D'ren's face fell. He could sense Ronarth's discomfort even before the dragon spoke, his words confirmed it. Something was wrong, and that wasn't what D'ren to hear. He crossed his arms and tried to mask his own worried expression as B'jin knocked. Oh boy...Here we go he mumbled to himself. He stopped cleaning and instead turned towards the door, waiting.

Such a timid knock.

"...Come on it," D'ren said after too long a delay. He pulled a chair out from his desk and then seated himself at a second one nearby. "Have a seat..." he said cautiously. "You said we may have a problem?" Ronarth, has Larrikith said anything to you?

Not yet

D'ren frowned. He didn't normally go for the throat like this, but the greenrider practically looked ill. Something pretty serious must have happened. He stayed calm though, his eyes focused neatly on B'jin. The weyrleader smiled, trying his best to look non-threatening. He was calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was already deeply concerned. A million things could have gone wrong! "Go ahead and tell me, then. Let's get it over with." Perfect timing, really. He'd almost managed to find some free time, and that just wouldn't do.

Listen in, Larrikith advised, twitching uncomfortably and looking irritable - more with herself than with the bronze dragon laying near by, or even the rider within the building. She grumbled, under her breath, and her eyes whirled swiftly and in agitation. Twitchy, and very unhappy, Larrikith did her best to settle her emotions, and those of B'jin, so they could get this over with.

B'jin had crept in with a tiny bit more confidence at D'ren's invite - he didn't sound mad, yet - and carefully inched his way into the chair offered. Seating himself, B'jin tangled his hands together, fingers entwined, and glanced up at D'ren with a very worried expression through the length of his lashes. The smile on D'ren's face did nothing to reassure the greenrider and he flinched visibly as the man spoke.

Taking a deep breath, B'jin steeled himself and sat taller, meeting D'ren's gaze in an almost uncharacteristically bold manner. B'jin was usually more timid and eccentric than the expression of grave fear twitching across his face.

"Larrikith miss-judged, and I asked the wrong questions." He began, allocating equal blame across the pair of them. After all, a Search pair was exactly that - a dragon and her rider and neither was any more or less to blame, no matter how much they threw insults at each other. They were, and always would be, in it together. Another deep breath was taken, and breathed out softly. "The young man is an honorary Master of the Healer Craft."

B'jin shook his head, and his hands unlaced long enough to both be shoved back through his hair, which was standing on end in a manner that suggested it was not the first time the action had been taken in recent times. Dropping his hands back into his lap, the man fought the urge to pace the room.

"I - He doesn't look the part, and he wasn't wearing his knots - he keeps them in his pocket. We heard him introduced himself as a Journeyman Healer and nothing more, up North. I mean..." B'jin slumped in his chair, wondering if he should bother to explain himself. How could he, without it sounding like he was making up excuses?

"He is withdrawn, and alone - he takes no pride in his masters ranking. Larrikith singled him out for ease, in the end - there was another she was more interested in, but the young lady posed too much of a risk." B'jin gave D'ren a flat look at the end of that statement, to emphasis the irony of avoiding a risk, only to end up stealing a bigger one. "She'd just been assigned to the Hold, and would be too readily missed. I'll go back and get her, eventually. She'll go for a brown, if not gold, should Nirinath so bless us. Very serious, well maintained young lady with a lot of potential... But Talian was easy, and acceptable, and we'd already been gone for the better part of two sevendays."

B'jin stopped, and shook his head. "I..." B'jin sighed and slumped. "Sorry."

Okay Ronarth said solemnly, almost whispering.  He curled into a tight ball and laid his wedge-shaped head on the ground, huffing nervously as the drama inside prepared to unfold. He could sense the tension in his rider, flowing in the man's blood and constricting his veins. Ronarth hated it when D'ren got like this. The dragon, with little true understanding of human issues, would have rather D'ren be outright angry or upset than just..tense. Waiting.

D'ren consoled Ronarth and watched in silence as B'jin arranged himself in his seat. Something was wrong about the greenrider's body language. He was so nervous and twitchy, with none of his usual energetic glow. B'jin even looked older somehow, when normally he carried such a nice, refreshing youthful streak. D'ren frowned and waited with a touch of impatience as B'jin started to explain himself.

Misjudged? Asked the wrong questions? I wonder where he's going with this the bronzerider thought regretfully. Well, his good mood was slipping away, that was certain. He would wait to hear the entire explanation, his face gradually growing redder and redder. His expression changed, but it didn't change; his eyes only gradually narrowed, almost invisibly, and his lips became thinner and his jaw set tighter. Droplets of sweat formed under his shirt collar and on his brow, and his hands gripped his forearms tighter as he sat in his slouched, arms-crossed position.

Near the end of the little speech, he slumped completely and just stared for a few long seconds. His jaw gradually slacked. Then, with a jarring jolt of his heart and a sudden surge of disbelieved frenzy, he sprang to his feet.

"WHAT?!" he boomed. It was the first time he'd ever outright screamed at B'jin, and one of the only times he'd ever outright screamed at anyone as Weyrleader. Outside, Ronarth twitched, his entire body roiling like an angry serpent for a few quick seconds.  Oh, no! Please don't get angry... the bronze pleaded. He could practically feel D'ren's blood pressure skyrocketing.

D'ren stood, staring at B'jin in disbelief for a few of the most awkwardly silent seconds in the history of mankind. After an uncomfortably long time, he groaned and started pacing. "How..." he said, his voice returning to normal volume for a only a moment before sinking dangerously low, "...could you screw something up so completely and totally?! You're my best search rider!" he said, staggered, practically disbelieving.

He stopped mid-pace and waved a hand at B'jin. "How do you go from that to something like this? You...have to be kidding me!" he said. He couldn't even begin to go on about how many things were wrong about this. It was a miracle he hadn't had a heart attack, but judging by the pace of his wildly fluttering heart, he still might!

"B'jin...you seriously mean to tell me that to avoid a healer with great potential who was 'going to be missed', you picked up someone who has no potential and will definitly be missed? An honorary master? That...never happens! And he doesn't even have potential to Impress a dragon?"

Larrikith roared, rearing to stand up and flinging her wings wide, her expression was curdling as she snarled in the direction of the hut, where she could see the two men through one of the small windows. Eyes whirling so fast they were nothing but a blur of horribly angry red in her otherwise petite face of green, the dragon's extended wings and snarling expression made her appear much larger than her actual size, very much like an angry feline.

How dare you! Larrikith did not shriek, ever in all her twenty-odd years of life. This, however, came remarkably close as venom dripped from the three words that were openly directed at the Weyrleader himself. She seethed for a moment, as if she couldn't control herself enough to even form coherent thoughts while inside, B'jin had at first flung himself away from D'ren, looking wildly terrified as the other man screamed at him before curling up in shame in his seat, face burning a horrible shade of red as he tried to make himself invisible. His emotions were in turmoil; D'ren had just acknowledged him as the best! But, only because he had so terribly, terribly screwed up. B'jin's brown eyes were swimming, but he had enough pride and self loathing to not let the water fall.

He will Impress! Larrikith snarled, shuddering visibly as she withheld her desire to clamp D'ren to the floor with a clawed foot. She completely ignored her weyrleader dragon, and while she pulled her wings back somewhat, she still gave the impression of being more than ready to slaughter anyone that looked at her wrong. Around them, she could feel the eyes of the curious peering out, but not willing to be seen. Screaming humans and dragons was not something to investigate.

"Just... not any time soon," B'jiin peeped, still curled up miserably in his seat, eyes locked on D'ren's pacing feet and shoulders rather than risking looking the dragonrider in the face. His own was still burning in shame, and while he felt less likely to burst into tears, he wasn't going to risk a wrong look setting him off. He had some pride left, somewhere, maybe...

"He was on-route," B'jin put in lamely, voice barely audible, "his family won't miss him. His hall will, but not for a while..." It was useless, but he needed D'ren to understand why they had settled on the young man, even if the young woman would have been a much better choice.

"I'm sor-"

Shut up B'jin! Larrikith put in, audibly and angrily, cutting off her rider and her voice booming through the minds of any open enough to hear anything remotely draconic. We did nothing wrong! Her regal, furious glare dared D'ren to contradict her, dared him.

B'jin choked on a breath, and looked up, eyes wild, white as a sheet. Oh, Faranth, Larrikith, SHUT UP!

Before he could say anything else, D'ren's mind was assaulted by the voice of a shrieking woman...or wait, a green dragon! Realizing that Larrikith was bespeaking him, in fact sensing her outrage flowing through the very air, D'ren cut his eyes towards the door. "B'jin! Shut that sharding green up!" he hissed, his voice again sinking low. Outside, Ronarth gave a low growl to Larrikith, his usually gentle temperament overtaken by sudden passion.

You stop! the bronze demanded darkly, not bothering to add any commentary beyond a single raspy command. No one thought such nasty things about his bonded! The bronze uncoiled and flared his wings, risking up and brushing uncomfortably close to Larrikith. His eyes boiled red and his tail twitched with dangerous aggression, but D'ren already had a hold of him.

Don't you dare do anything foolish either, Ronarth! She's smaller than you, and you're better than that he thought angrily, closing his eyes and projecting his force of will onto the bronze. Like D'ren, Ronarth too had potential for explosive anger under the right situations. It was a flaw they shared together, and a flaw they each helped the other contain in their own way.

Ronarth hissed, his snout lingering close to Larrikith for only a few more moments before he backed away. He kept his eyes on her and continued to rumble unpleasantly, but he was under control. Bringing him under control seemed to have brought D'ren under better control as well. He grunted again, pressing his hand against his forehead in sudden fatigue. The spirited bronze was not always easy to control.

He sat back down. "...So you say he will  Impress? I suppose this isn't a total waste, then," he said, still far from happy. "...I am so disappointed in you. You should have gone for the other one, or at least checked this one out better. How did you miss his depression if it's really this serious?" he asked, keeping his tone level and considerably gentler, but still intense and serious. He exhaled nervously. "This is bad. How old is he? People in our age range don't make masters, he must be some sort of special case or something...trust me B'jin, those get noticed."

But, there was no way to fix it.

A thoughtful expression crept across his face. "...At least he'll be useful as a healer, though. It takes a smart kid to gain special advancement like that. I'd prefer as many of them as possible Impress as well, of course..."

He scooted his chair closer and leaned in towards the greenrider. "So tell me, what exactly is wrong with him?" he asked. Ideas were rolling through his head.

Larrikith shut up with a gargled squeak at Ronarth's command, the natural instincts of a lower-ranking dragon falling into place, despite her desire to rebel. B'jin, distraught though he was, offered enough back up to the bronze to assist with controlling the irate green. She usually would have simply ignored either of them; it was impossible for her to ignore them both. Snarling, irate, and wanting very much to fly away, Larrikith was further bound by her bonded, who had just burst into tears.

B'jin wasn't sobbing, he wouldn't allow himself to fall apart that much (that was for at home, hidden from even Larrikith's prying eyes, if not her mind) but the tears were flooding down his face in a constant river of mildly salty water, and his breath shuddered as he peered up at D'ren with distress. B'jin didn't do disappointment - he always, always did right. He may not be ackonwledged for it, or praised for it, but the man could count on one hand the amount of times he had sorely disappointed someone, and that all of those times were Nemall, in the privacy of their own hut... Dear Faranth, what would D'ren say if he knew B'jin had tried to be a part of the party to return home? Or that he had fully supported (and wanted to participate!) in the torching of Tsuen's hut?! The man's face lost even more colour, and he chocked on a breath.

"I'm s-s-sorry," B'jin chocked, the tears coming faster as he shrunk back in his chair, shoulders up around his ears and head tucked close to his chest, as if that would hide the shame-faced expression and the fact that he was crying like a weyrbrat found out of bounds.

"Y-y-yes," B'jin stammered, his hitching breath causing the word to break up. He sniffed lightly, and carefully wiped his face on his forearm; it didn't do much good, as the flooding of tears continued. "H-he," B'jin paused, and took in a deep breath, eyes closed as he held it for a moment before releasing it slowly through his nose. Opening his eyes, the greenrider continued. "He broke upon arrival. He probably wouldn't have had any major issues for another handful of Turns." His lips pursed, and his eyes dropped to the table, thoughtful and worried. B'jin didn't like the stealing manner in which Candidates were brought to the Isle, and had forfeited more than a few likely candidates in leu of coming home empty handed rather than disrupt them from their lives. If D'ren knew half of what he got up to... B'jin shuddered visibly and gave a dainty sniff.

"Twenty-three," B'jin spoke softly, answering the Weyrleader's questions without looking at him, fearful D'ren would see all the hidden secretes in his eyes if he did. Wiping his face once more on his sleeve, and glad to note the tapering off of his tears (the shame! To cry before the Weyrleader!) B'jin continued, "I know."

D'ren's thoughtful expression caused B'jin's eyes to narrow distrustfully, and he withdrew into himself almost visibly, walls shooting up as he prepared for some kind of trick, as if D'ren usually went around pulling carpets out from under his feet. He frowned at D'ren's question, and tilted his head slightly, pondering.

Severe depression, Larrikith replied, her voice low and grouchy still, but that wasn't unusual for the green in question. He will require watching. He won't run, she explained, pausing for a moment as she thought carefully about what she was going to say. Normally, Larrikith simply spoke, but the young man they had brought to the Isle required careful consideration. He may try to suicide... Then she dismissed the matter, snorting and lifting her head in dismissal and flicked her wings. Silly child would have wound up dead anyway.

Ronarth watched in satisfaction as Larrikith backed down. His growling gradually faded and his eyes shifted from red to a more muted shade of orange, though his emotions were still running high. The traditionally calm bronze coiled tightly in his wallow, like an angry feline that sat indignantly on the bed after clawing someone. He didn't even say anything to D'ren, who was still stewing over the whole situation.

D'ren's expression softened slightly when B'jin started crying. This was terrible. D'ren rather liked the greenrider, and when it was all said and done, this was just one mistake. It was a terrible, terrible mistake...but B'jin was still an excellent searchrider and a loyal subordinate. D'ren hated to get on his case like this, but that was the burden of leadership. If he just let it go, he'd quickly become too soft...Soft like he wished he could be.

"B'jin, stop crying," he said softly, his voice finally returning to it's normal relaxed state, though weariness weighed heavily within it. "Listen. This is a blunder, and I'm going to have to hold you responsible for it," he said, narrowing his eyes somewhat, but doing a decent job at remaining calm. "But you're still a good searchrider, and one of the most dependable people I have right now. I can't have you breaking down on me, all right?" He was almost tired after that last outburst. He remained quiet for a moment as Larrikith explained the situation.

"I see. Well, the best way to deal with depression is exposure, I'd imagine," he mused. "Well...for the time being, you're grounded from search," he said. "And..." he reached out with one finger and jabbed B'jin in the nose. "...You better fix him. Do you understand me?  I want that kid skipping and spouting poetry."

B'jin sniffled unhappily, the sound particularly dainty all things considered, and wiped his face once more on his sleeve, looking pathetic as he tried to do as D'ren asked, feeling very much like a child as he huddled in his chair. B'jin was a parent, and he took a great deal of pride in his children; while his contact with his son, Bendilam, was limited because of his Impression to Larrikith, the young man had done his best to be there for them both. In contrast, the two youngsters he had sired at Katila were children he spent much more time with, when he wasn't up North, he was taking them for rides, teaching them to bathe Larrikith, and playing their childish little games. He understood the requirements of praise and scolding, and didn't blame D'ren for his need to, frankly, make an example of him. After all, if D'ren were willing to come crashing down on B'jin, the other's would likely be more careful in their own Search and Snatches.

"I know," it was a whisper, resigned but understanding. He wouldn't ask for or expect special treatment. He wasn't that kind of guy, and he'd never done it before - he would hardly start now. He nodded slightly, once, as D'ren continued his quiet, almost calm, little speech. B'jin's puzzled gaze rose as D'ren changed subject just slightly, and he watched his Weyrleader's expression with some slight apprehension, eyebrows drawing down as he waited to...

"Oh," the crushed expression on B'jin's face was tempted by the shoulders that slumped. He'd expected as much, but it still hurt. He loved searching, and enjoyed the socalisation it offered with those up North. To be restricted... B'jin's sad expression altered suddenly as D'ren's finger struck his nose, and the brown, tear-sparkled eyes crossed to look at it, and his nostrils flared in surprise. Lifting his gaze, B'jin's eyes uncrossed comically and he stared at D'ren with a horrified expression.

"Wh-what?" His jaw worked as he attempted to process the information B'jin had just been given, and tried to ignore the finger still present upon his nose. "... I-" B'jin pouted, sulking, as his expression began to round out to one more familiar. "How?"

The bronzerider shrugged. "I have no idea. That's your problem," he said with a firm shake of his head. "Talk to him. If that doesn't work, I don't know. Be creative if you have to. Get him drunk, find him a girlfriend, I really don't care." He paused, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. If this kid was a master, honorary or not, he was probably pretty useful. The last thing D'ren needed was someone like that showing up, not Impressing a dragon, then committing suicide.

After a moment of hesitant silence, he reached over to clap B'jin on the shoulder. "We'll figure it out. I know you enjoy the search - Once this is worked out, I'm sure we'll get you back out there," he said. Part of him just couldn't stand to be mean. This was the closest as apologizing as he could come. He couldn't exactly apologize for doing his job, or for punishing such a grave error. The situation was just..unfortunate. At least now it wasn't likely to happen again.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably and crossed his arms again. "I'll see about sending someone back for that other girl," he said, trying to think if there were any other loose ends to tie up in this whole mess. "Are you sure that kid doesn't have a family? I'm sure any parents would be proud to have a twenty-sharding-three turn old master healer running around," he said. He was just worrying now, though. In the back of his mind, he still trusted most of B'jin's assessments...but D'ren was a worrier, and this was a situation worth worrying over.

"Either way, it's done now. I initially thought we should try to plant some evidenced that he was murdered or got lost or something, but in the end it's probably best to just leave it. If he's as withdrawn as you say, well...sometimes people like that just wander off, or worse. I'm sure people's imaginations will fill in the blanks, and it will involve jealous classmates and spiteful family members, not extinct dragons," he said with a nod, though he still looked like he wanted to be sick. "Hopefully we can get him to adapt. Plenty of the others have their baggage as well, after all. And I'm sure he'll be a nice addition, skill wise."

What a day. He stretched a bit, then started to walk out. "...I'm going to get a drink. You're dismissed, B'jin. Come talk to me again in a sevenday and let me know how things are going."

B'jin's pout was firmly in place by the time D'ren finished speaking his first sentence. Punishment was one thing, and handleable, but when the Weyrleader had no idea how a task was meant to be completed, B'jin knew he was doomed. He bemoaned silently to Larrikith, who had nothing to offer the man in return. She was just a dragon - what did she know about fixing sick minds? The child was a healer! Surely he'd have the answer. B'jin grimaced, washing away his pout, and gave D'ren an irritable look.

"Thanks." B'jin's statement was sincere - he was incapable of giving sarcastic remarks, or even understanding them. The remark was in response to his eventual Search clearance once more, though he wasn't going to hold out too much hope that it would happen soon... He'd probably be fifty before D'ren gave him clearance, and that was if he were lucky. Sighing, B'jin stood up carefully, and passed his Weyrleader the roll of parchment that had Talian's limited details upon it.

"I'll get the rest of the information out of him while I'm at it, shall I?" His voice was tired, and it was less a question than it was a comment. He frowned, though, as D'ren expressed interest in getting the girl. "I'll get a sketch of her, for a rider. But..." He paused, looking unsure for a moment before ploughing on, "wouldn't it be risky, to grab her now? I mean," he stammered to continue, before D'ren got the wrong idea about where he was going with his objection - "we should definitely have her, but um, Talian... Won't they freak if another goes missing?" B'jin wasn't objecting to someone else picking her up, but he was worried about calling even more attention to them. It was better, that B'jin not be involved in the girl's spiriting - the risk of someone recognising him from just before Talian vanished. The searchrider went out of his way to avoid areas he had Searched within the past six to twelve months. Recognition was not a good thing.

"He won't be missed. His family are bastards." B'jin didn't need the boy to say anything, and while he was sure the boy and his family loved each other in their own way, the man was pretty sure he wasn't treasured as a child, so much as a means to an end. Or, rather, there was not the love shared between the boy and his father as B'jin could relate doting upon his own sons and daughter. Children were meant to be children, not forced into mastership.

B'jin's lips pursed, but he held any comments to himself. He knew he and D'ren were on a similar page about stealing those that lived in the North, and ranting, raving or making comments about such things weren't going to do anyone any good. They did it because they had to, and it was agreed to be the best way to survive. Year round spiriting meant there were more than enough candidates currently around Katila proper for whenever Nirinath decided she felt like flying again... It was simply an unfortunate fact that nine-tenths of those stolen ranged from unhappy to very unhappy about their new life. B'jin wasn't exactly happy himself when he discovered he was stuck in the South.

Oh, quit whining. It's much nicer here.

"Yes, sir," B'jin said, saluting officially before striding out of the Weyrleader's hut. As he stepped out the door, B'jin turned to throw a grin at D'ren. It was weak, and didn't hold any of the greenrider's usual charm, but it was a much more famililar expression than any of those he'd been wearing since his interview with Talian. Slipping over to Larrikith, he flung himself atop her neck and the green dragon flung herself into the air.

Lets get your leathers, but we'll leave the kid alone for now. B'jin's day had been plenty stressful, and he had no desire to freak out the healer after barely ... however long it had been. He'd start bugging him later. Those on the Isle were all due a social trip, anyway, and Larrikith needed a bath.

Wonderful, Larrikith said sarcastically, and just about watching as the tone went right over B'jin's head.

---

Probably room for you to reply once more, but we're mostly done methinks.
Also; B'jin needs to be cleared to Search by early/mid Summer 231, so he can Search Allendris xD

D'ren quickly waved one hand dismissively. "No, don't worry. I didn't say anything about going back for her now. But you won't be going back for her either way. If you've already been seen in that area right before this kid went missing, I'd rather not risk you getting connected with another disappearance." It wasn't likely, but it was the exact sort of thing he would worry about. He didn;t want to run any unnecessary risks, not after a blunder like that. "We'll give her until autumn at least. But we'll see."

It was a shame about the kid's father, though. Or his family in general, as B'jin had it appear. The father sounded like the worst though, going off of just a little bit of information. "Well, as awful as it sounds to say...maybe that will play into our advantage. Maybe he could come to view this as a favor...No parents to be bastards, no pressure to perform...and who knows, maybe he'll find someone to fill that void.  I don't know though...I'm just theorizing." Maybe it was a hint, maybe he was just talking off the top of his head. It was probably a bit of both.

He nodded a farewell to B'jin. "Have a good day," he said before departing. He slid onto Ronarth's back without bothering with straps. Ronarth was a large dragon, but dragons as a whole were still small enough to manage short flights unstrapped. B'jin is very upset Ronarth whined as he took off, not bothering to look at Larrikith. He was a little bit embarrassed after his earlier outburst. Don't worry, I don't plan on grounding him long...it's more out of principle. A warning, if you will D'ren explained. Either way, let's just forget about it for now...Getting stressed out won't solve anything