22.Feb.12, 10:49 AM
"It is, isn't it?" B'jin asked, his laughter in his voice as he watched Talian go through all kinds of emotions, at high speed. He wasn't sure that was particularly healthy, but he wasn't about to comment upon it as the young man began babbling about Erisi and the man allowed his amusement to bleed away quietly as he watched, listening, and his eyebrows drew down in a slight frown, even as he leaned casually against the arched frame leading into the kitchen.
"I'shan of Ilveriath," B'jin supplied, snorting. "Our children are about the same age." He left out that the man had very little to do with said offspring, or that B'jin himself had ended up tangled with the man barely a Turn before, during one of Larrikith's flights. Talian was still a little timid about such subjects for B'jin to feel completely comfortable delving into his flight-sparked exploits - besides, Erisi obviously didn't need another reason to feel him a bad influence, and having his dragon choose I'shan's was obviously not going to cut it.
"I'm fine," B'jin said, his tone mild, though a hint or irritation was mixed within, showing just the tip of thorns. His brown eyes showed no such thing, however, as they watched Talian pace. He didn't draw attention to the fact that the young healer had just said he was trustworthy, or that he had compared him (again?!) to his father. "That's what is important," B'jiin inserted, when Talian paused after stating what Erisi's friendship meant. The remainder of his little rant was also left, uncommented upon, although both of B'jin's eyebrows shot up on his forhead before he schooled the expression. The greenrider wasn't entirely sure he was meant to have heard that, but it was definitely something he would need to dig into later.
Half the reason they stole the younger Journiers was because they weren't meant to have families. That, of course, B'jin thought mildly, didn't mean much when you were one of those that had had kids at that age, anyway. If you were meant for a dragon, you were going to end up with one, regardless. Are we going North? Larrikith asked, curiously, as she landed lightly outside the house. She was glad the little healer had cheered her bonded up so much. Maybe, B'jin thought, breaking off to laugh as Talian snatched his arm from him to examine it. Just to see. We'll talk to D'ren. What will you tell the Little Healer?
"No idea," B'jin shrugged, his amused brown eyes watching Talian fondly as he fell into what B'jin was definitely going to label 'Healer Mode'. "Healers had me on all kinds of stuff when I was a kid." He winked. "It's only when Larri gets torn up that it's really an issue. It's incredibly inconvenient to have to blackmail the weyrbrats into numbing her. I have a pretty high pain tolerance."
Using his free hand, B'jin caught Talian's chin gently and tilted his face to better look at the young man, features contorting into a worried expression as he took in the signs of depression on the Healer's face. B'jin didn't need to be trained in that craft to recognise an illness he was fighting - apparently considerably better than Talian!
"Talk to me," not wanting Talian to take the words as an order, B'jin unconsciously half-whispered them, voice a low, rich purr that was thickly woven with concern. The same emotion burned in his eyes as the green rider picked up the sure signs of weightloss and bad sleeping habits. His lips pursed unhappily as guilt flushed his face.
Whatever it takes to make him happy. B'jin finally replied to Larrikith, his mind thick with sadness.
"I'shan of Ilveriath," B'jin supplied, snorting. "Our children are about the same age." He left out that the man had very little to do with said offspring, or that B'jin himself had ended up tangled with the man barely a Turn before, during one of Larrikith's flights. Talian was still a little timid about such subjects for B'jin to feel completely comfortable delving into his flight-sparked exploits - besides, Erisi obviously didn't need another reason to feel him a bad influence, and having his dragon choose I'shan's was obviously not going to cut it.
"I'm fine," B'jin said, his tone mild, though a hint or irritation was mixed within, showing just the tip of thorns. His brown eyes showed no such thing, however, as they watched Talian pace. He didn't draw attention to the fact that the young healer had just said he was trustworthy, or that he had compared him (again?!) to his father. "That's what is important," B'jiin inserted, when Talian paused after stating what Erisi's friendship meant. The remainder of his little rant was also left, uncommented upon, although both of B'jin's eyebrows shot up on his forhead before he schooled the expression. The greenrider wasn't entirely sure he was meant to have heard that, but it was definitely something he would need to dig into later.
Half the reason they stole the younger Journiers was because they weren't meant to have families. That, of course, B'jin thought mildly, didn't mean much when you were one of those that had had kids at that age, anyway. If you were meant for a dragon, you were going to end up with one, regardless. Are we going North? Larrikith asked, curiously, as she landed lightly outside the house. She was glad the little healer had cheered her bonded up so much. Maybe, B'jin thought, breaking off to laugh as Talian snatched his arm from him to examine it. Just to see. We'll talk to D'ren. What will you tell the Little Healer?
"No idea," B'jin shrugged, his amused brown eyes watching Talian fondly as he fell into what B'jin was definitely going to label 'Healer Mode'. "Healers had me on all kinds of stuff when I was a kid." He winked. "It's only when Larri gets torn up that it's really an issue. It's incredibly inconvenient to have to blackmail the weyrbrats into numbing her. I have a pretty high pain tolerance."
Using his free hand, B'jin caught Talian's chin gently and tilted his face to better look at the young man, features contorting into a worried expression as he took in the signs of depression on the Healer's face. B'jin didn't need to be trained in that craft to recognise an illness he was fighting - apparently considerably better than Talian!
"Talk to me," not wanting Talian to take the words as an order, B'jin unconsciously half-whispered them, voice a low, rich purr that was thickly woven with concern. The same emotion burned in his eyes as the green rider picked up the sure signs of weightloss and bad sleeping habits. His lips pursed unhappily as guilt flushed his face.
Whatever it takes to make him happy. B'jin finally replied to Larrikith, his mind thick with sadness.