Could 'ave Been Worse [Open]

The group finally left, the smell of roasted wild Wherry finally too much for their growing stomach as it wafted from the kitchens with promises of better entertainment.  What was left at the corner of that hut might have first appeared to be a pile of rags that the Weyrbrat’s often use to create their ragballs for various games.  That is, until the pile coughed and a soft moan escaped past a painful, bloody lip.

Forcing himself to sit up, Bordtai leaned his back against the stone of the hut and let his head fall backwards against its firm presence as well as he sat there, eyes closed and praying wistfully that his head would stop making the solid ground beneath him stop spinning.  It was still solid wasn’t it?  They hadn’t moved him onto some boat in the middle of the lake while he was cowering like a fool, had they?  Moving a hand from his lap to the ground next to him, he confirmed that it was in fact solid and not the wood of a boat or raft.

Oh, thank you Faranth.  he thought to himself as he opened his eyes and brought his hand back up to gingerly feel his lower lip gingerly.  It was split open and he could feel it already beginning to swell.  A quick wipe with the back of his hand told him his nose was still bleeding too and he pulled a sleeve over his fist to hold it against his nose for a moment as he looked silently over the roof of the next hut at the evening sky.

Could ‘ave been worse.  Nothing feels broken.  Blood’d nose ain’t so bad.  Again Bordtai spoke to himself silently.  He was too well aware of the looks and names whispered when he spoke to himself out loud and speaking to other people?  Well… that was generally over rated anyways.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Amorandii came charging up to her father, throwing herself at him and clinging to the man's waist as she stared up at him with wide eyes. The greenrider brushed a hand back through her knotted blonde hair as he ignored her insistent attempts to capture his attention; he was speaking to her mother. Nodding at last as the bluerider returned to her hut, B'jin tossed the bag of odds and ends that Amorandii demanded migrate from mother's to father's and back again alongside her visits over his shoulder and finally turned his attention upon the impatient little girl.

"What, Andi?" He picked her up with a grunt, only half playing, when the girl demanded to be carried and settled her on his hip. "You are getting far to big to be carried, love." He told her, poking the six year old in the nose with one finger and then shaking his head with a smile as she objected and proceeded to tell him all about her day - which had been a lot less stressful and dramatic than the adult version. B'jin nodded and smiled at all the right times, walking quietly back toward his own hut. He would dump Andi's shit, and the pair would pick up her brother before making their way to dinner. Larrikith was somewhere doing whatever she did when she was off on her own. Probably making out with Ayyonth -- or the dragon equivalent.

While neither of them spotted Bordtai, Amorandii did see the hoard of creche bullies running away laughing, and the child suddenly wriggling in B'jin's arms so that the greenrider let her slide to the ground. B'jin's features twisted into a confused frown before scowling as his daughter took off running, her dress flying around her legs. B'jin groaned, and took off after her, stopping to pick up a lost shoe along the way. "Andi! Andi come back!" He lost sight of her as she went around a corner and groaned again, wishing Larrikith hadn't been preoccupied so that they could have flown.

"Andi?" B'jin came around the edge of the building to see his daughter squatting beside a slumped pile of rags with hair, and his eyebrows drew together. Moving quietly, B'jin crept closer to the pair, stopping when he could hear his daughter's young voice quizzing the boy.

"-- your name?" He assumed she'd told the other brat her own name, and slipped closer, hoping he didn't look intimidating and not realising that it was very difficult for him to ever look scary. The man's brown eyes were gentle as he knelt down behind Amorandii, resting one hand lightly on his daughter's shoulder he studied the messed up face of the boy before him. His guts twisted when he realised the kid was the same age as his own young son. "Hey, kiddo."

"This is my daddy." Amorandii said confidently to Bordtai. "He's really good at making hurts go away. And when he can't, my brother's a Healer! He can fix anything."

Bordtai had watched the girl round the corner, then approach him with a bubbly attitude and introduced herself.  While she was doing so, he had looked around – just to be sure she was actually talking to him and not a stray little feline – before turning his attention back to her.  His attention didn’t stay there long, however, as his hazel eyes lifted to the man who followed her around the corner to put his hand on the girls shoulder and look him over.

Suddenly very conscious of himself and the fact that, despite all odds, they probably were talking to him, he focused his eyes on the ground and blades of grass between his feet as he listened to the girl talk about hurts and healers.

His shoulder’s shrugged, their thin frame barely moving the cloth that hung so loosely from them as she finished her confident statements.  He didn’t look back up at either of them as he continued to hold his sleeve to his nose.  “S’all right.  Ain’t so bad.  Just a blood’d nose is all.”  He muttered to the blades of grass between his feet.  The effect of his nose covered, however, had his voice probably sounding funny and muffled to the young girls ears as Bordtai did his best to reassure her that he didn’t need any attention. 

B'jin watched the little boy with a soft, sad expression. Amorandii was still babbling about how between them, he and Talian could fix everything. The little girl didn't interact much with Talian (since B'jin seemed to be a magnet for both children, and those who disliked them) but B'jin liked to tell stories and Talian was a fun subject. The boy would probably die of horror if he realised that B'jin spent half the nights he had his kids over weaving exuberant stories about the young Healer's victories over ailments and disastrous messes. His children liked blood and gore, but they also liked to know they were safe. Talian was a perfect story subject: B'jin could include a disgusting amount of blood and gore, before Talian swooped in miraculously to save the day. The greenrider rather enjoyed story time!

"Hush, Andi," B'jin said gently, quietening the girl when he noticed the boy was speaking - or attempting to, at any rate. B'jin couldn't make out his words, but considering the child's posture and lack of eye contact, he could guess without too much issue what the boy was saying. Or attempting to say, at any rate. "Here," B'jin said gently, digging through Amorandii's travel pack to drag out a shirt. It wasn't particularly old and Amorandii frowned, but the child didn't object as B'jin gently encouraged Bordtai to use the shirt to plug his nose rather than his own sleeve. The Harper didn't deal well with blood, and his features had a distinctly green tinge to them but his hand was steady and his expression gentle, even if his nose was scrunched up unconsciously with disgust. Where people like Talian got their iron stomachs from, he didn't know.

"Let me have a look," the words were gentle, and they were more request than order but there wasn't a question there as B'jin's fingers gently tilted Bordtai's chin up, examining the child's face carefully. What he could see of it, at any rate, though it didn't make the greenrider happy. "Where's your parents, kiddo? Do you live around here." Amorandii's mouth opened to answer, but B'jin shot her a warning look, shutting her up so the little girl pouted even as she leaned against his side and peered curiously at Bordtai. She knew the answer to that question, but she also knew her father liked the questioned to give their own answers. A warm, princess-y smile was given to Bordtai, encouraging the older brat to answer.

With his eyes so carefully locked on the blades of grass at his feet, Bordtai didn’t see the sad expressions on their faces, but he could gear the gentle sadness on the man’s voice.  It really was amazing, when one stopped listening to words and started listening to tone what they might be able to pick up.  Who needed words when they had tone?  Tone said so much more.  Ah, but was that pity in the girl-father’s voice?  There was no point in wasting pity on him, just like there was no point in getting blood on anyone else’s clothes. 

So when the shirt was offered, Bordtai lowered his hand to take the shirt, but was careful to set it down next to his thigh rather than actually use it as the man lifted his chin.  The larger brats had managed to make a proper mess of Bordtai’s lower face before the boy had managed to get his arms up and curl into a ball.  The trickle of blood running down his upper lip from his nose had slowed now and would more than likely stop in a few minutes.  Both nose and lower lip were coloring and would probably stay that way for a day or two before fading.  The lower lip where it had busted open, while not pretty, was at least a patch of dry blood and no longer bleeding as well.

No, if Bordtai could help it, he’d not bloody anyone else’s clothes.  With his chin turned upwards, however, it was hard not to look the man in the face, so he gave up for a moment and found himself slightly surprised.  The man was a grown adult and yet he looked as if his stomach was ready to empty of its contents as the man looked at him.

Am I so pathetic that the sight of me now makes adults sick? he wondered briefy, his face wincing as he quickly turned his eyes away again.  He wanted to bat that hand that held his chin away; if the man didn’t want to look at him, then he shouldn’t look at him!  It was easy enough concept.  Even so, Bordtai never lifted his hand to do so.  Fighting adults would be even less futile than fighting the larger brats.

“I’m a Weyrbrat.  No parents.  I sleep in a Creche hut.”  He answered each question, realizing that the man was probably not going to leave him alone if he dodged them.  His muttering that he was alright had only ended up putting the boy under closer scrutiny, which was exactly what he had not wanted.

Not at all. B'jin is just pathetically weak stomached and you are bleeding everywhere. Larrikith's voice was far too smug as she spoke to the young brat, almost sing-song as she picked on her rider with good humour. B'jin's expression altered into a chagrin grimace and he let a small smile flicker over his lips for the boy as he realised something must have upset him, though he was privy only to Larrikith's comment, not whatever she'd dug off the top of the boy's mind.

"Ahh," he said lightly, a small nod being given as that information locked itself away and the Harper continued his very mild examination. Unlike Talian, B'jin's healing abilities were rather limited, but he'd seen his share of messed up faces (namely, his own) and while the child looked a fright, he was fairly sure nothing was broken. It would be better if he could get Talian to look him over, but B'jin was prepared to wheedle up to that eventually, rather than simply hike the kid off now.

Removing his hand gently from Bordtai's chin, B'jin carefully balanced himself, lowering the hand in question to perch on the grass, and a curious look filling his features. "And what was your name?" He'd noticed that question being dodged when Amorandii asked, but he wasn't entirely sure the child had heard his daughter; she tended to go on tangents.

"I'm B'jin, of green Larrikith. As I'm sure she made haste to tell you, this is my daughter Amorandii."

"Andi."

"That too."

Bordtai winced again, though not as deeply, when the green spoke up from some unknown location.  The boy was no stranger to dragons speaking as they often asked him an odd question, he just wished he didn't think so loudly sometimes.  Apparently his habit of talking in his head just made it easier for them to snoop.  It seemed to be a favorite past time for greens too, which never helped matters.

"If you don't like blood you should jus' send me to wash up.  That's what the women do."  He mumbled as he watched the green rider grimace and steady himself, his assesment of Bordtai's face apparently over.  Looking from the young girl with such an 'eager-to-help' look and an almost similar look on the man's face, Bordtai decided that's where she got it as he pulled his knees up to his chest and looked away again while mumbling an answer.

"Bordtai."  He offered before pausing and looking back at the greenrider, his face suddenly full of worry.  "I ain't in no trouble am I?  I swear I didn't bleed on nobody's hut."  He said, looking behind himself quickly just to make sure.  That'd have been his luck, be caught bleeding on a riders hut...  thankfully the wall was blood free.

"Do I look like a woman?" B'jin asked lightly, amused. "And don't worry about the hut, my dear. Any blood you may have painted on it will wash away with the Autumn rains." B'jin smiled warmly at the worrying child, wrapping an arm lazily around Amorandii and settling himself down to sit on the grass, facing the boy.

"No, Bordtai, you're not in any trouble." A hand reached out to gently grip the boy's knee in a reassuring manner, smile smaller than his regular bright expression, but no less warm or genuine. The touch only lasted a moment before B'jin was retracting his hand back into his own lap and looking curiously at Bordtai.

"I don't recall seeing you in my classes," B'jin said lightly, though he did look somewhat puzzled. "Do you skip out on me?" light and teasing, the rider's brown eyes sparkled playfully. He knew for sure he'd remember the cute little orphan in his classes, and he tended to teach the pre-teen weyrbrats of his age their letters and Harper tunes. Perhaps he was exceptionally talented and was mixed in with the older students?

It didn't occur to the man that the child might have difficulty in such areas and that he might be tutored with the younger brats in that area. Because B'jin shied away from mathematical portions of education (he could handle numbers about as well as Talian could handle a sheet of music...) B'jin was oblivious to the child's level of knowledge.

---

[sup]You don't have to go with that, but B'jin does teach children Bordtai's age and he would remember an orphan. The man is a sugar pie for kids in need.[/sup]

Hearing the man ask if he looked like a woman made Bordtai blush in embarrassment.  What kind of question was that?  Ah, but then again the boy had mentioned what the women-folk do.  Truth be told, it wasn’t often he ran into riders not busy let alone male riders.  There was that strange greenrider who had her green painted every day by the weyrbrats, but Bordtai would hardly ever call that ‘normal’.

Reassured that he wasn’t at trouble did put the boy at ease, though the blush in his already colored face didn’t fade as the father-rider next asked about Harper lessons.  That’s where I recognized him from!  he thought to himself, again loudly enough for the dragon to pick up, but how easy was it to forget he was broadcasting when dragon’s didn’t talk to him on a regular basis like they do their riders?

The question wasn’t dodged, though the response was a mumble all over again as he looked at the grass between his feet in embarrassment.  “No sir, I’d never skip class or shirk chores.  They ain’t so bad as folks say.”  Glancing at the six turn Andi who he regularly saw in his own class, he quickly looked back down at the grass.  “I sit in the back corner, Sir.”  A long pause before he added to keep any confusion out of the way, “In the back corner of Andi’s class.  ‘No good at letters sir, so they keep me wit’ the younger children.”

This time there was no looking up as a hand went down to pick lightly at the grass he was so carefully staring at.  The man was being nice so Bordtai didn’t want to skirt no questions no more, but some were more embarrassing to answer than others.  Like his letters.  He didn’t really want to admit that even remembering the symbols to write his own name were difficult.  Especially when they never seemed to sit still when he was writing them.

Why couldn’t the man ask him a question about numbers?  Sure, Bordtai couldn’t write down no numbers either, but he could solve problems in his head quickly.  Numbers were so much easier because they made sense.  They didn’t move around on you and they were useful.  Not like anyone cared about his name enough to need to write it anyways.

B'jin chuckled softly at the boy's flush, though the sound wasn't designed to be mocking, just a subtle amusement. Had he known of Bordtai's thoughts regarding Par'a, the man likely would have laughed quite happily, and assured the youngster that she was definitely not normal. But, Par'a was amazing in her own way and B'jin owed the kooky greenrider more than he felt he'd ever be able to repay.

But that wasn't a topic for a hurt child, and B'jin - who was usually remarkably oblivious to everything - managed to pick up on the child's lack of reassurance and unhappiness. While it could appear to be a remarkable feat on B'jin's part, the greenrider had been improving on reading such signals from his own children, including Talian, whom this small boy reminded him a great deal. So much timidity and lack of assurance! B'jin desperately wanted to give him a hug and tell him everything would be fine... But he didn't want to frighten the poor child.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," there wasn't so much as a touch of sarcasm on B'jin's words as he replied to Bordtai, the sudden resembelance to Talian shining through strongly as he decided the child had no sense of humour (or simply took adults far too seriously) and hadn't seen the funny in the words the greenrider had spoken moments before. You and stray children, Larrikith crooned against B'jin's mind, amused and endeared as she appeared above the huts, gliding in lazy circles before landing a couple of lengths away and curling up to clean herself. She made no move to join the little gathering, but she continued to watch through her bonded's eyes as she had done since the man found the child (or Amorandii found him, at any rate. But Larrikith had never been too hooked on specifics.)

B'jin was picturing his classroom, and the ways in which the students tended to sit in it while the silence between them dragged out, the greenrider's face slowly contorting into a puzzled frown. He simply couldn't place where Bordtai was indicating he sat. As if to answer his question before he spoke it - B'jin's mouth even opening to release the words - the weyrbrat spoke up once more and B'jin's eyebrows arched upwards, gaze flickering to Amorandii to catch a slight nod from the little girl in confirmation.

Turning back to Bordtai, B'jin's expression was thoughtful. "I see," he murmured, tone as mild as his expression, his left hand sweeping back through his blonde hair and flicking it off his face. An inability to deal with letters didn't mean the child was stupid, though that was often an assumption made by people (and even himself, back when he'd been much younger). As far as he was presently concerned, it simply meant whomever had been teaching Bordtai had been doing it in the wrong manner. "What about the rest of your education, Bordtai?" He asked gently, frowning. Surely they weren't holding the child back in other areas if he was failing in one.

When the rider-father asked about his other education, Bordtai visibly perked up just slightly at the opportunity to explain that he wasn’t completely a dimglow, just a little bit of one.  Lifting his head up from staring at the grass, he looked at the rider with the slightest swell of pride in his chest – not nearly as much as another Weyrbrat would have expressed at lesser feats, but then again Bordtai didn’t have nearly the practice at actually being proud about something.

“Oh I can do numbers, sir.”  He said quickly, before that slight swell of pride completely disappeared and his thin chest dropped visibly.  “Well, not on parchment.  Those symbols are… difficult… too, but I can solve the problems in my head if I hear them out loud.  I can solve the older class’s problems, but since I can’t write them… They have me keep practicing in Andi’s class in the corner so I don’t hold nobody else back.”

And just like that any pride he had was gone, flicker of hope a thing of the past as he plucked at the grass between his feet once more.  For a moment, he glanced at the little girl again as he considered.  “Andi’s good at all of it though.  I bet having a harper-father helps.  You make her smarter.  All the children with rider-father’s are smarter than I am.”

Of course that was it.  Having a family had to make you smarter, it was the easiest way to explain it. 

B'jin's attitude subtly at the just as subtle change in Bordtai, his warm smile brightening a little as he watched the child latch onto something that appealed to him, the greenrider less pleased with it being numbers, but pleased none the less - after all, he didn't have a lick of ability when it came to healing, but he'd bring that up, if only to watch Talian shine as he spoke of the subject. He could do that with this little tyke, too, who obviously didn't get enough praise for his achievements.

The greenrider picked some grass himself, flicking it playfully at Bordtai as the young brat became obsessed with the strands of green. The compliment to Amorandii caused the little girl to glow, wriggling happily against her father's side and smiling brilliantly at the older brat. "Thank you!" she said, still beaming as she threw her arms around Bordtai impulsively and gave him a quick hug, giggling happily as she peeled away and settled into B'jin's lap. Her father placed a light kiss on the little girl's temple, pleased with her response, before raising an eyebrow at Bordtai.

"I make sure she does all her homework," B'jin said, mockingly serious, forgetting for the moment his previous conclusion that Bordtai didn't cope well with humour from adults. "Or she gets no sweets." Amorandii giggled at B'jin's severity; as if her father could ever deny her the things she wanted! "Everyone is smart," B'jin continued, this time deadly serious as he gently lifted Bordtai's chin so the child was looking at him. The rider's brown eyes were calm and reassuring. "We just display it in different ways."

While he had been slightly trying to turn the subject onto Andi, the last thing he expected was for the young girl (not really that much smaller than the scrawny Bordtai) to suddenly throw her arms around him in a quick hug.  Her happy giggle mixed with the sharp intake of breath that cut through his teeth as he winced, but held still for her to finish her hug and move away.  A hand replaced where one of her arms had wrapped over his left shoulder and he ever so gingerly touched the area hidden beneath the tunic too large for him.

Batting away the grass thrown at him, Bordtai pulled himself into a bit tighter of a ball as the rider-father kissed his daughter and spoke of her ‘good-habits’ doing homework.  He wanted to spit back that he’d do the homework if he could.  It wasn’t a matter of him skirting the homework as much as the simple fact that no matter how much time he spent on it he never got any further.

This time, as B’jin lifted the boy’s chin, the boy’s eyes were a little darker and he kept a hand protectively over his shoulder as he listened, almost begrudgingly to the man.  “S’not what everyone else says.”  He muttered, the term Dimglow coming distinctly to mind.  Even so, what little progress B’jin had momentarily made asking about what Bordtai was good at was shattered in the light of unexpected physical pain.  Of course, he wasn’t going to tell THAT to the man or the girl.

Bordtai didn’t lie often, but there were a few things he’d lie about to keep other things from happening.  One of them happened to be teetering lightly on the edge of actually happening and the boy was suddenly very ready for the two before him to forget he existed once more.

B'jin's eyebrows both arched above his eyes in wry amusement and he gave Bordtai a curious and coy look. Now he looked like everyone, rather than just a woman? Smiling cheekily, B'jin leaned forward to peer into Bordtai's eyes, squinting comically and resisting the urge to poke the young boy in the nose (it didn't look too happy and he didn't want to make it bleed again). "Can you see me?" he teased, wiggling his fingers in front of the child's pretty eyes. "I was a woman a moment ago! Now I'm everyone!" He drew back dramatically and turned a comical expression upon Amorandii, who giggled.

Wide, sparkling brown eyes were turned back upon Bordtai. The man wasn't unknowing to the way the child was protecting his shoulder and was pretty sure the boy had some nasty bruises developing under his shirt, but he didn't want to just lift the child up and march him off to see Talian. While the greenrider could be stubborn and forceful when it came to getting skittish children to do what he wanted, he knew it was generally better to get them to at least come along on their own steam, even if they weren't particularly enthusiastic. He'd get the child off to Talian shortly.

Shall I forewarn Talian of an impending visit? Larrikith asked mildly, looking up from where she was curled with curiously swirling eyes. In a moment, perhaps. But he's not going to the creche until Talian's looked at him. Of course not. Lifting herself up, Larrikith curled her tail around herself and watched primly, waiting until she was sure before invading Talian's mind. She wasn't going to make contact with Talian until she was positive it was what was required at the time. She knew the young Healer didn't like her and especially didn't like it when she poked around in his brain, so she refrained as much as she could... or at least, refrained from letting him know she was there.

He hurts, she murmured to B'jin, jewelled eyes glowing thoughtfully. Emotionally. B'jin didn't reply, but Larrikith was privy to the emotional whirlwind as the man thought over how to handle the child before him.

"Where are you off to, Bordtai? Would you like an honour guard? Larrikith finds bullies to be rather yummy."

Watching the man’s face dance with expressions, Bordtai took on a look that was a mixture of confusion, annoyance and pure astonishment as the man put on a dramatic show at being offended at being called a woman then being called everyone.  The boy seriously wanted to ask the man if he wasn’t crazy.  Faranth, and people called him the dimglow!

“No!”  the boy snapped as pain, weariness and confusion finally won over and he answered about the honor guard.  “I’m fine.  Nobody bully’n me.  Nobody but you.”  Standing up, he brushed off his breeches, wincing again before glancing at the little girl who had been laughing a moment before.  She deserves his jokes.  Not me.  Why doesn’t he leave me alone and give her the attention she deserves?  he thought bitterly.

“I’m sorry, Andi.”

With the simple apology he turned his back to both of them and made his way past the hut – heading toward the edge of the Weyr rather than any common destination that would have lay in the center of the Weyr.  He was going for a walk.  A walk away from the crazy rider-father.

B'jin startled at the sudden snap, flinching back instinctively and blinking wide eyes before he collected himself and frowned slightly at Bordtai, tilting his head and watching quietly as the boy stood up. Once, he would have been shocked by a child accusing him of being a bully, but he could recall Talian having a similar opinion a turn ago. Well, he wasn't bullying the child! He was trying to help him! When was the last time an adult actually sat down and asked the boy how his day had been? Asked him how his class was going, or what he had done between chores and classes? The child needed someone, and he obviously didn't have that someone.

B'jin would be that someone, and like with Talian, he would put in the work required to prove he was worthy of being that someone. Lifting Amorandii up gently B'jin set the child aside and shooed her when Larrikith called her over. The child obeyed, shooting a worried look at Bordtai as she sprinted across the grass, her skirts rustling as she went.

"Bordtai." B'jin's voice held just enough sternness that he was sure it would cause the child to pause, without sending him running in fear of a beating. As if he hadn't been beaten enough! Several quick steps brought B'jin up behind the child, and with carefully placed hands, he gently turned the child around to face the dragon that had trotted up behind them both.

"Get on the dragon."

Bordtai had moved and turned too quickly to see that B’jin had sent the smaller girl toward the dragon or that he had even called the dragon, though he’d probably not have actually seen the silent communication anyways.  Even so, what the boy had hoped wouldn’t happen happened as the man called out after him – with more sternness than Bordtai was expecting.  Shard it!  If it would have been a lighter call, or a friendly one, or even an upset one Bordtai could have kept walking.  But stern?  Stern meant the adult was serious.  Stern meant Bordtai was in trouble.

Stopping where he stood, Bordtai let his chest fall as his chin fell too, lowering his face to the ground with a look of both shame and frustration as the man carefully turned him around.  The scrawny boy winced, though not out of pain this time as B’jin got lucky with his hand placement, but rather out of knowledge that it was going to be pointless to argue.  The man was larger than he was.  That and Bordtai never hit back.  Why fight when you were going to lose anyways?

With the man’s next statement, one leaving just as little room for argument, Bordtai looked up to spot the green dragon.  At the prospect of a dragon ride, most children (weyrbreed or not) might instantly cheer up at the idea, but Bordtai was no fool.  He was either going to be hauled back to the crèche where he belonged, or worse – the healer’s hall.

“I can walk…”  he mumbled, clearly half-heartedly though he made no attempt to either walk or climb onto the dragon. 

B'jin watched the child's reactions with a very subtle frown, though with the way the boy was looking at the ground, he supposed his expression could have been thunderous or overjoyed, and the child would still react as he was. Pursing his lips unhappily, B'jin did scowl at the boy's mumble, glance flickering up at Larrikith as she gave the distinct impression of insult. Larrikith enjoyed being fussed over, and B'jin was often convinced the reason she was such a fine Search dragon was because she simply enjoyed the way holder folk gushed over her, and told her how pretty she was.

That was before the plague, of course. Now he decided she was a good Search dragon because she enjoyed the challenge of singling out the best, and managing to sweep them away undiscovered. B'jin detested Searching, and had only brought in seven youngsters himself, in all the Turns of Katila. Not that anyone could complain, when they remembered that he'd brought in the young bronzerider Allendris and the golden counter part, Jada. B'jin wasn't surprised - Larrikith was exceedingly picky with those she claimed, and they always Impressed well. B'jin had distinct trouble recalling if she'd ever brought in anyone that Impressed to anything lower than a brown. She claimed greens and blues were so numerous, that you could Impress just about anyone you stuck on the sands, if you weren't fussy about what colour they got. Which was why she specifically sought out 'the special ones' - those that had something (whatever it was dragons sniffed out) that called to gold, or bronze, and occasionally a brown.

I'm just better than everyone else, Larrikith murmured smugly to B'jin, lowering her head and crouching slightly as B'jin returned Bordtai's soft mumble with a straight up, "No," and picked the child up, gently placing him atop Larrikith without so much as batting an eye and then waved his dragon into the air with the two children. He would walk, Larrikith would fly overhead, just high enough to prevent any thrill seeking pre-teens from jumping off.

"You can inform Talian we're on our way now, love," B'jin told his dragon, moving at a solid pace under his dragon's stomach as she glided very lazily in the direction of the Healer Hall. B'jin didn't care what the kid currently thought of his being kidnapped and hauled off. He didn't have any parents to get in B'jin's face about minding his own business, but that also meant he didn't have any parents to stand up for the child, or to fix his hurts, or to tell him they were proud of him, or to hug him and tell him they love him or to tuck him in at night or...

We get the point, B'jin. Do you want me to get rid of The Wherry?

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[sup]:| B'jin is apparently pretty determined when it comes to kiddies. *toddles off to start a new thread* hehe

Continued here[/sup]