The Waiting Game [Z'ia]

It was sharding late, that much was for sure, but Z'ia hadn't slept yet. Rather, the bouncy little beast had been visiting a 'moth, though Aveleth hadn't chased that day. The dragonless creature was fun, though, and enjoyed being roughed up as much as Z'ia enjoyed throwing the poor bastard around. It was an enjoyable arrangement, though granted Z'ia didn't take advantage of the situation nearly regularly enough. Perhaps he would look into changing that, though it was unlikely. The mess he made of the other man was usually attributed to his flight mothing habits; if he visited him too often, pieces of the puzzle would be put together. Z'ia was more clever than that, and took pains to keep his nose clean to the public eye.

It was one of the first thinks D'hys had emphasised when he took the freshly graduated weyrling in hand. Z'ia didn't always appreciate the things D'hys took to teaching him, or the manner in which he did so. But, the lessons were worth it, else Z'ia wouldn't still be fluttering around the older bluerider's ankles - literally. Tall bastard!

Z'ia grinned cheerfully as he bounced through the crisp night air, curls dancing around his head and step full of spring. Aveleth had mumbled a gentle word to him, a message from his dear Rilaleeyth, that J'ver's mate wished to speak to him. Z'ia was a little intimidated by that - the last thing he needed was S'kef breathing down his neck and making his life painful - but ever the best actor and lire (a talent that came naturally, no thanks to D'hys there!) Z'ia came to a halt before the Dining Hall door and tilted his head. Curls bounced, and he used one hand to push them out of his face. They were of a length where he could likely pull some of them back with a leather tie, but who had time for that?

They would simply fall free, Aveleth pointed out quietly, his voice a sleepy murmur from where he was curled up outside Z'ia's hut. A short moment later, another sleepy murmur filtered into Z'ia's mind, followed swiftly by a cheerful squeak. Plague has awaken, Amusement lingered under the sleepiness, before Z'ia felt the young blue withdraw, uninterested in the goings on between the two humans and (apparently) the fluro firelizard that landed happily on Z'ia's shoulder.

"Hey, sugar." Z'ia rubbed the little green's eyeridge even as he finally pushed the door open, and slipped inside. As he had expected, the hall was nearly entirely empty. Someone (probably a kitchen worker) was wandering around sleepily, but it looked like the poor bitch was collecting up the plates from lazy rider folk. Z'ia eyed her mutely before skipping past.

While the little bluerider was looking for S'kef, he would have skipped right by him, hidden in the shadows as he was, but for Plague's quiet chirp and a flickering image of the brownrider, wineglass in hand. Z'ia's bouncing steps came to a standstill and he tilted his head, peering at S'kef quietly for a moment. A hand rising to quiet the flitter, Z'ia slipped closer with a lot less bounce, and gave a half bow, though green eyes were serious and calculating as his chin tilted up. "Evening, Sir." His voice was a soft murmur. Plague wriggled and wrapped her tail tightly around Z'ia's neck.