20.Apr.12, 01:47 PM
Early Afternoon, 26th of Early Winter 231 AL
There was something to be said for enjoying time off with your dragon. The pudgy little green was curled up on the roof of B'jin's hut, her tail twitching absently against her rider's calves as he relaxed against Larrikith's stomach, a bound pad of parchment sprawled against his upraised knees and a charcoal stick in one hand. The sheet he was staring down at was curiously blank as the man debated on what to draw now, the previous having been finished and tucked behind the bulk of the pad in preparation for the next. Raising the tip to tap against his chin with the same absent tattoo as Larrikith's tail against his legs, both B'jin and his little green dragon were startled by the husky voice of Grith resounding in their minds, almost out of no where - and particularly so for B'jin who was unused to the sound of strange voices in his mine.
Grith rises, Larrikith stated, unnecessarily - a fact which B'jin pointed out dryly. The dragon's voice was mellow, and her eyes reflected her lazy mood as she swung her head in the direction that Par'a's hut was located. The other green flew so often Larrikith was surprised she didn't waste away, though she also provided interesting and linking with B'jin, she could recall the one time their flights had meshed and the two tiny greens had risen as one. Larrikith brought those memories to the forefront of her rider's mind and thrilled in them. That had been a flight! The challenge of a chase, linked with the battle for the best male, and the competition between the two girls - friendly in a way a dual gold flight would never be - as the two little greens vied for the best male within the Weyr.
"That was a good flight," B'jin said cheerfully, enjoying the recollection as much as his dragon. The flight had occurred in 229, shortly after the Weyrlings had graduated. B'jin didn't really recall which blue had won that flight, and didn't really feel it an important detail. That flight itself had been fun, and thrilling in a way that was not usually a part of his promiscuous little dragon's routine. Larrikith chuckled softly, Perhaps we will fly together again, she murmured cheerfully, and B'jin laughed as well. His amusement fell away as Larrikith's round and soft body stiffened from nose to tail tip and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the very uncomfortable sensation of horrified hurt, and the man's eyebrows shot up, twisting to look at Larrikith with concern as her eyes swirled unhappy tones of yellows and greys, the swirling pattern making the eyes look sick.
"Larri? Love, what's wrong?"
Ayyonth gives chase, she whispered, and B'jin's eyebrows climbed higher still under his hair line, before brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Putting aside his bound pad of parchment and the charcoal stick carefully, being sure the latter wouldn't roll away, B'jin climbed to his knees and crept along the roof to be closer to Larrikith's head, fingers gentle as he stroked her neck and jaw line. Her gaze refused to leave the scene of Grith's flight, with her tailing trail of blues, browns and a few of the rarer, small bronzes. B'jin gazed at them, the distance making it a little difficult to pick out the delicate hide of his lover's blue. Once he did, his focus shifted back to Larrikith.
"Should he not?" B'jin asked gently, speaking more as if to one of his children than the dragon he had been bonded to for just shy of thirty turns. Her eyes were glued to the form of the blue as he chased after the small, fickle green Larrikith had befriended shortly after the formation of Katila. B'jin didn't understand the strange friendship the two greens shared, any more than he understood the easy going friendship he shared with the older rider. They were a fun pair, and enjoyable to spend time with. But, the rider was concerned about his dragon's response to the blue taking chase. If she was worried about his response to Par'a and R'nd getting tangled, B'jin couldn't think of anything more amusing. But, by the way her eyes were locked on the younger dragon, B'jin had a feeling he was learning something a little later than he probably should have. Or perhaps they both were, he amended, as Larrikith's eyes swirled faster with distress.
He's mine, Larrikith whined pitifully, completely negating a statement that should have come out with the sound of resounding ownership. B'jin's fingers continued their soft stroking along her neck and across her cheek. Larrikith had never expressed any desire to weyrmate before, and B'jin wasn't entirely sure how well R'nd would take the news that his dragon was becoming possessive of the man's blue. Keeping his train of thought carefully shielded from the unhappy dragon (though eh wasn't entirely sure she was paying attention to anything but Ayyonth) B'jin spoke gently. "Does he know that?"
Larrikith's gaze finally shifted from the flight of the dragons to turn on B'jin, and he struggled under the weight of her emotions for a moment. The little dragon wasn't shielding herself from him at all, and the rider was unused to the heavy flood of emotions that were usually guarded far more heavily on both ends of the bond. Their bond was deep and strong, but their shared desire for privacy was strong enough to outweigh it. While neither had qualms about sharing, neither did they often let go so thoroughly as Larrikith suddenly had. B'jin used one hand to brush hair out of his face, before returning it to the soft, mossy hide.
"No, then," he murmured, almost frustrated. "He can't read your mind, dear. If you want him, you need to tell him." B'jin wasn't quite sure what to make of giving relationship advice to his dragon, especially when he had so little to draw on himself, and what he did was of questionable content. But what he said made sense, at least to himself, and he brushed his fingers lightly over Larrikith's eye ridges.
I wanted him to catch me, she whispered, her voice almost meek and B'jin's eyebrow arched, suddenly wondering how long his dragon had been hiding her affection for the blue. Why she had been hiding it. He sighed softly. "And that brown snatched you," he muttered, feeling a spike of furious angry in Larrikith which he soothed, touch dancing over her eye ridges, and the curving, feminine panes of her delicate face. Suddenly she stood, almost sending B'jin flying in the thoughtless motion. She didn't apologise, and B'jin didn't really expect her to.
I do not wish to know! She said sharply, wings unfurling as she threw herself off the roof of his hut and landed on the ground; her wings tucking back to her side the little dragon forced her way into her room and B'jin felt her walls slam up with force, blocking not only himself but the Weyr at large. Sighing again, B'jin ran a hand over his face as his gaze turned towards the green and her pursuers, watching as a couple made grabs at the little green. While he was curious to see who would win (and he really did find the idea of Ayyonth winning amusing), B'jin realised that he was going to have his work cut out for him - starting with getting off the roof Larrikith had left him stranded on.
"Oh Larri," B'jin sighed, again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he picked up his notebook and charcoal stick. Approaching the edge of the hut, B'jin tossed the parchment onto the ground, flinching when some of the pages crumpled. The charcoal stick was tucked away in a pocket and the man slipped over the edge of the building, lowering himself by clinging to the side before dropping several feet to the ground, landing in a crouch. Picking up the sketchbook and smoothing the pages, B'jin slipped into his hut, leaving the book on the table top and joining Larrikith as she sulked, offering quiet companionship and an ear, when she was ready to discuss whatever it was going through her mind.
There was something to be said for enjoying time off with your dragon. The pudgy little green was curled up on the roof of B'jin's hut, her tail twitching absently against her rider's calves as he relaxed against Larrikith's stomach, a bound pad of parchment sprawled against his upraised knees and a charcoal stick in one hand. The sheet he was staring down at was curiously blank as the man debated on what to draw now, the previous having been finished and tucked behind the bulk of the pad in preparation for the next. Raising the tip to tap against his chin with the same absent tattoo as Larrikith's tail against his legs, both B'jin and his little green dragon were startled by the husky voice of Grith resounding in their minds, almost out of no where - and particularly so for B'jin who was unused to the sound of strange voices in his mine.
Grith rises, Larrikith stated, unnecessarily - a fact which B'jin pointed out dryly. The dragon's voice was mellow, and her eyes reflected her lazy mood as she swung her head in the direction that Par'a's hut was located. The other green flew so often Larrikith was surprised she didn't waste away, though she also provided interesting and linking with B'jin, she could recall the one time their flights had meshed and the two tiny greens had risen as one. Larrikith brought those memories to the forefront of her rider's mind and thrilled in them. That had been a flight! The challenge of a chase, linked with the battle for the best male, and the competition between the two girls - friendly in a way a dual gold flight would never be - as the two little greens vied for the best male within the Weyr.
"That was a good flight," B'jin said cheerfully, enjoying the recollection as much as his dragon. The flight had occurred in 229, shortly after the Weyrlings had graduated. B'jin didn't really recall which blue had won that flight, and didn't really feel it an important detail. That flight itself had been fun, and thrilling in a way that was not usually a part of his promiscuous little dragon's routine. Larrikith chuckled softly, Perhaps we will fly together again, she murmured cheerfully, and B'jin laughed as well. His amusement fell away as Larrikith's round and soft body stiffened from nose to tail tip and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the very uncomfortable sensation of horrified hurt, and the man's eyebrows shot up, twisting to look at Larrikith with concern as her eyes swirled unhappy tones of yellows and greys, the swirling pattern making the eyes look sick.
"Larri? Love, what's wrong?"
Ayyonth gives chase, she whispered, and B'jin's eyebrows climbed higher still under his hair line, before brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Putting aside his bound pad of parchment and the charcoal stick carefully, being sure the latter wouldn't roll away, B'jin climbed to his knees and crept along the roof to be closer to Larrikith's head, fingers gentle as he stroked her neck and jaw line. Her gaze refused to leave the scene of Grith's flight, with her tailing trail of blues, browns and a few of the rarer, small bronzes. B'jin gazed at them, the distance making it a little difficult to pick out the delicate hide of his lover's blue. Once he did, his focus shifted back to Larrikith.
"Should he not?" B'jin asked gently, speaking more as if to one of his children than the dragon he had been bonded to for just shy of thirty turns. Her eyes were glued to the form of the blue as he chased after the small, fickle green Larrikith had befriended shortly after the formation of Katila. B'jin didn't understand the strange friendship the two greens shared, any more than he understood the easy going friendship he shared with the older rider. They were a fun pair, and enjoyable to spend time with. But, the rider was concerned about his dragon's response to the blue taking chase. If she was worried about his response to Par'a and R'nd getting tangled, B'jin couldn't think of anything more amusing. But, by the way her eyes were locked on the younger dragon, B'jin had a feeling he was learning something a little later than he probably should have. Or perhaps they both were, he amended, as Larrikith's eyes swirled faster with distress.
He's mine, Larrikith whined pitifully, completely negating a statement that should have come out with the sound of resounding ownership. B'jin's fingers continued their soft stroking along her neck and across her cheek. Larrikith had never expressed any desire to weyrmate before, and B'jin wasn't entirely sure how well R'nd would take the news that his dragon was becoming possessive of the man's blue. Keeping his train of thought carefully shielded from the unhappy dragon (though eh wasn't entirely sure she was paying attention to anything but Ayyonth) B'jin spoke gently. "Does he know that?"
Larrikith's gaze finally shifted from the flight of the dragons to turn on B'jin, and he struggled under the weight of her emotions for a moment. The little dragon wasn't shielding herself from him at all, and the rider was unused to the heavy flood of emotions that were usually guarded far more heavily on both ends of the bond. Their bond was deep and strong, but their shared desire for privacy was strong enough to outweigh it. While neither had qualms about sharing, neither did they often let go so thoroughly as Larrikith suddenly had. B'jin used one hand to brush hair out of his face, before returning it to the soft, mossy hide.
"No, then," he murmured, almost frustrated. "He can't read your mind, dear. If you want him, you need to tell him." B'jin wasn't quite sure what to make of giving relationship advice to his dragon, especially when he had so little to draw on himself, and what he did was of questionable content. But what he said made sense, at least to himself, and he brushed his fingers lightly over Larrikith's eye ridges.
I wanted him to catch me, she whispered, her voice almost meek and B'jin's eyebrow arched, suddenly wondering how long his dragon had been hiding her affection for the blue. Why she had been hiding it. He sighed softly. "And that brown snatched you," he muttered, feeling a spike of furious angry in Larrikith which he soothed, touch dancing over her eye ridges, and the curving, feminine panes of her delicate face. Suddenly she stood, almost sending B'jin flying in the thoughtless motion. She didn't apologise, and B'jin didn't really expect her to.
I do not wish to know! She said sharply, wings unfurling as she threw herself off the roof of his hut and landed on the ground; her wings tucking back to her side the little dragon forced her way into her room and B'jin felt her walls slam up with force, blocking not only himself but the Weyr at large. Sighing again, B'jin ran a hand over his face as his gaze turned towards the green and her pursuers, watching as a couple made grabs at the little green. While he was curious to see who would win (and he really did find the idea of Ayyonth winning amusing), B'jin realised that he was going to have his work cut out for him - starting with getting off the roof Larrikith had left him stranded on.
"Oh Larri," B'jin sighed, again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he picked up his notebook and charcoal stick. Approaching the edge of the hut, B'jin tossed the parchment onto the ground, flinching when some of the pages crumpled. The charcoal stick was tucked away in a pocket and the man slipped over the edge of the building, lowering himself by clinging to the side before dropping several feet to the ground, landing in a crouch. Picking up the sketchbook and smoothing the pages, B'jin slipped into his hut, leaving the book on the table top and joining Larrikith as she sulked, offering quiet companionship and an ear, when she was ready to discuss whatever it was going through her mind.