11.Jun.13, 11:35 AM
A loud thud on the front door sent M'din flying from his bed in a dazed frenzy. Wake up! Wing Practice! Armath shouted, blaring his thoughts to his rider as his tail pounded the door to accent his words. A scuffling outside told the drowsy brownrider that his dragon was crawling over to his bedroom window, which was confirmed when a large blue eyeball poked into view. Get up and get dressed, M'din. We need to get to the Weyrbowl; Berruth called us for Wing Practice.
W-wing Practice? M'din slurred. Yes, all right. Clothes first. He rose, bustling, as he gathered his wardrobe from scattered untidy piles on the floor, under his dragon's one-eyed scrutiny the whole while.No, not the daisy shirt. Get your flying gear, the brown commanded. Though Armath was a playful beast at heart, he took Wing Practice very seriously and forced M'din to look and perform his best. He continued supervising as his rider dressed, pleased to see him wearing more appropriate attire the second time around.
Hastily patting down his tangled hair, M'din toddled outside to grab his riding leathers. Luckily for him, he'd inspected them the day prior and found no issues with his gear. For being absent-minded, M'din took much better care of Armath and his riding equipment than he did himself.
"Okay! Let's do this," he told his dragon as he climbed into his saddle. "Hope I didn't forget anything," he added softly, mentally cataloging the items he needed for the day.
Armath sighed,Go put your boots on, buddy.
As if seeing his wiggling toes for the first time, M'din sheepishly muttered, "Ah, shoes. Yes, let me get those." Reappearing from inside a moment later, he mounted Armath again with a pat. "Thank you."
The brown blinked between in place of a response, anxious to arrive in the Square in a timely manner. Beneath his nervousness and fear of tardiness, Armath was absolutely thrilled about Wing Practice. He earnestly hoped they flew aerial drills today, desperate to show his skills and months of hard work. Armath was petite compared to his peers, but he flew expertly wanted everyone to know it.
They popped into the Gather Square beside Berruth, who seemed ridiculously enthused about the coming practice as he pranced in wide circles. M'din smiled and bounced a bit in his saddle with the excited bronze before turning to his rider. The stern-faced Wingleader looked cold, rigid, and demanding, and M'din gulped loudly as the joy melted off his face. The juxtaposition of the happy bronze and his strict rider made him inexplicably uncomfortable: he no longer had a grasp on what to expect in the next few hours.
Suddenly self-conscious, M'din mentally whispered, I wish I'd known we were going to have a practice. I'm a mess and I was supposed to oil you today! He saw ashy patches on Armath's knees, but heaved a sigh of relief that no cracks were visible on his hide. The timing of this is terrible. It went unspoken between them that the surprise practice was intentionally problematic. They'd been around long enough to recognize a Wingleader's veiled test.
Armath, unfazed by his rider's concern, calmly replied,We'll have to outperform everyone then. We may be a bit unprepared this morning, but they can't claim we aren't adaptable. The brown projected to Berruth and T'rel, Armath and M'din, reporting in. M'din gave a small wave, wishing he could face challenges with as much gusto as his bonded.
W-wing Practice? M'din slurred. Yes, all right. Clothes first. He rose, bustling, as he gathered his wardrobe from scattered untidy piles on the floor, under his dragon's one-eyed scrutiny the whole while.
Hastily patting down his tangled hair, M'din toddled outside to grab his riding leathers. Luckily for him, he'd inspected them the day prior and found no issues with his gear. For being absent-minded, M'din took much better care of Armath and his riding equipment than he did himself.
"Okay! Let's do this," he told his dragon as he climbed into his saddle. "Hope I didn't forget anything," he added softly, mentally cataloging the items he needed for the day.
Armath sighed,
As if seeing his wiggling toes for the first time, M'din sheepishly muttered, "Ah, shoes. Yes, let me get those." Reappearing from inside a moment later, he mounted Armath again with a pat. "Thank you."
The brown blinked between in place of a response, anxious to arrive in the Square in a timely manner. Beneath his nervousness and fear of tardiness, Armath was absolutely thrilled about Wing Practice. He earnestly hoped they flew aerial drills today, desperate to show his skills and months of hard work. Armath was petite compared to his peers, but he flew expertly wanted everyone to know it.
They popped into the Gather Square beside Berruth, who seemed ridiculously enthused about the coming practice as he pranced in wide circles. M'din smiled and bounced a bit in his saddle with the excited bronze before turning to his rider. The stern-faced Wingleader looked cold, rigid, and demanding, and M'din gulped loudly as the joy melted off his face. The juxtaposition of the happy bronze and his strict rider made him inexplicably uncomfortable: he no longer had a grasp on what to expect in the next few hours.
Suddenly self-conscious, M'din mentally whispered, I wish I'd known we were going to have a practice. I'm a mess and I was supposed to oil you today! He saw ashy patches on Armath's knees, but heaved a sigh of relief that no cracks were visible on his hide. The timing of this is terrible. It went unspoken between them that the surprise practice was intentionally problematic. They'd been around long enough to recognize a Wingleader's veiled test.
Armath, unfazed by his rider's concern, calmly replied,