19.Feb.14, 02:01 PM
R’nya nodded slightly, opting not to make a comment on the rider’s name, and the information it brought with it, though his lips did purse just slightly for a moment. “Worry about that when you get to it, Ameris. By the time it is of importance to him – if, indeed, such a time arrives – it will not be for you.” It was clear the girl had no particular ties to the deceased bronzerider, but R’nya watched her face carefully as he spoke. If Rislan decided he needed to know who his father was, it would not occur for some time yet; the child was happy, perfectly loved, and not yet old enough to have friends with which to compare family members – or lack thereof.
By the time he asks, he will probably be more enthralled by the idea of the man being a hero than that he’s dead. R’nya cast an eyebrow raised look at his dragon, expression sceptical, but did not make any comment, vocal or otherwise. R’lan, a hero, was the last thing the bronzerider could envision and he was more inclined to imagine the man was squished in his bed. His dragon was vicious and cruel, and R’nya had little reason to believe otherwise of the man. He wondered idly if Indivara would find any positive emotions in the man’s death; it was his dragon that mauled her, was it not? Xyreith grunted in response, uncaring and unconcerned.
Xyreith’s attention shifted to Mizeath as the weyrling shifted closer, his expression unreadable as he watched her without comment. The large bronze was still trying to figure out where Mizeath fit into life in general, and he was slowly getting a feel for her buttons. Xyreith enjoyed pressing buttons – it was why he so regularly went out of his way to be childish with Aradissicath, though he would not be at all above admitting he favoured her of the golds he and R’nya kept company. However, he had yet to pick which ones he could press on Mizeath in order to get a response, but preferably without stirring up their human counter parts.
He’d figure it out, eventually, he was quite sure. In the meantime, with the disaster still lingering over everyone’s heads and the humans all so stressed while the occasional dragon still found need to vanish between forever… Well, for now Xyreith would leave Mizeath’s buttons alone. But not for much longer, the decided, feeling smug as he lowered himself to lay beside her, extending the wing closest to her just enough to give her a light nudge, before settling it back against his side. Slowly swirling eyes watched the two humans, though he was very much aware of Mizeath.
“Where is the little fellow?” R’nya had never outright stated it, of course, but he enjoyed the time he was with Peorray or Ameris and their son was present; the loss of Soren was a sore spot for R’nya, though the wound was not nearly as festering as that which Peorray was home to. Nonetheless, pale eyes were clearly eager as he turned his slightly-arched-eyebrows at Ameris and waited for an answer. He really hoped the child wasn’t with that drunken fool the girl called a father!
Xyreith’s attention shifted to Mizeath as the weyrling shifted closer, his expression unreadable as he watched her without comment. The large bronze was still trying to figure out where Mizeath fit into life in general, and he was slowly getting a feel for her buttons. Xyreith enjoyed pressing buttons – it was why he so regularly went out of his way to be childish with Aradissicath, though he would not be at all above admitting he favoured her of the golds he and R’nya kept company. However, he had yet to pick which ones he could press on Mizeath in order to get a response, but preferably without stirring up their human counter parts.
He’d figure it out, eventually, he was quite sure. In the meantime, with the disaster still lingering over everyone’s heads and the humans all so stressed while the occasional dragon still found need to vanish between forever… Well, for now Xyreith would leave Mizeath’s buttons alone. But not for much longer, the decided, feeling smug as he lowered himself to lay beside her, extending the wing closest to her just enough to give her a light nudge, before settling it back against his side. Slowly swirling eyes watched the two humans, though he was very much aware of Mizeath.
“Where is the little fellow?” R’nya had never outright stated it, of course, but he enjoyed the time he was with Peorray or Ameris and their son was present; the loss of Soren was a sore spot for R’nya, though the wound was not nearly as festering as that which Peorray was home to. Nonetheless, pale eyes were clearly eager as he turned his slightly-arched-eyebrows at Ameris and waited for an answer. He really hoped the child wasn’t with that drunken fool the girl called a father!