06.Jun.18, 10:09 AM
OOC: since this takes place right after the hatching Hux still can't controle his volume so she can hear all he says
S'oll had retreated to the far edge of where the other weyrlings had gathered, trying to keep his brown away from everyone else. Both because of what his dragon had done, what he said but also because he couldn't get the image of the two girls and the little green running towards them out of his head. She lost everything because of him and his dragon, the weyr had lost two candidates and a dragonet because of his lifemate. I did the right thing, the weyr need strength and Honor. Women are not strong and they do not belong on the backs of dragons, they are weak and their dragons even more so the brown looked up at him, his eyes no longer bloody red but an odd shade of yellow. "But you killed them, you didn't even know them" the brown snorted eye swirling yellow, he was itchy and despite his hunger having been settled he was not in a mood for his riders shocked state of mind. Not to mention that a woman had impressed and the young brown was not impressed with his sister. And hadn't his rider stopped him he'd have displayed it weary openly, not that he hadn't spoken cruel and cold words but still only words.
S'oll was quiet and pale as a ghost as he sat there, knee in the sand a wet cloth in his hands. Hands which were stained crimson from washing Huxlieth, stained with the blood of his fellow candidates. He had imaging many things could happen from impressing, but never had he imaging or wanted to imagine having to wash the blood of others off his dragon. Huxlieth hower did not seem to mind, the brown even seemed somewhat relaxed as his hide was cleaned from blood, sand and egg goo. And with his rider washing his hide, he was also the one ho saw the women approach. She comes from the sand, she wore clothes like S'oll and the real candidates. Huxlieth's lips peel back as he snarls at her S'oll's head swiping to the side to face her as his hand land on Huxlieth's back. He wasn't holding on the dragonet but he felt more secure that the brown wouldn't just charge and attack her if he had physical contact.
She congratulated him, her smile making him relax a little but only a little. He had been scared he had frightened every one he had managed to build a friendship with away, and especially her whom he considered a good friend. A friend he did not wanna lose. Huxlieth on the other hand, had no problem if she'd get lost. His eyes swirling red as he openly snarled at her. "Thank you Mylorah, you will too" she make a better one than him, her bonded wouldn't be a monster like Huxlieth. The weak is right, we will be strong, You and I are great and shall become greater than most. Prove that strength is need over the weakness the brown would say eye on his bonded who still kept his hand firmly pressed against the Browns back.
But Huxlieth had not failed to see her eyes drift to him, and he hadn't forgotten she was dressed in robs she did not belong in. Not to mention he did not like the fact that S'oll seemed happy to see her, happier than to see him. And S'oll belonged to Huxlieth, not this falls weak woman who thought she could be a candidate. Women do not impress, they do not belong on the sands of strong riders. His voice cold and sharp as he looked at her teeth still flashed at her as a deep rumbling snarl left his throat. S'oll would grow paler as his bonded spoke the anger, disgust and dislike from his bonded rushing over his own mind. "No" he finally managed to speak eye on the brown who looked at him, "Mylorah, will make a great golde rider, she belongs here more than you know" the brown would hiss in protest tail trashing behind him hitting the bucket and spilling water over the sand. S'oll would have pulled away had it been any other situation the anger from his bonded making his own blood boil. But would the brown attack if he did not keep him in place? Would he attack Mylorah?
The new weyrling could feel how the brown struggled against the mental grip between them. But despite feeling helpless and just wanting to pull the brown under his arm and run away from everyone he couldn't, he needed to stay. Running wouldn't help, and he wasn't gonna run from his problems. But there were something ells behind the browns anger, he could teel that the young dragon was trying to make sense of the woman wanting to impress gold. It took him a second to unraveled what impressing gold meant to riders from his bonded's mind. It took a moment for him to stop snarling and look at Mylorah with suspicion. Lips still pulled back in a hiss, She should not stand if there is no gold for her to impress. the brown would rumble, as he kept on snarling towards the girl And he is My S'oll, not Siroll
S'oll had retreated to the far edge of where the other weyrlings had gathered, trying to keep his brown away from everyone else. Both because of what his dragon had done, what he said but also because he couldn't get the image of the two girls and the little green running towards them out of his head. She lost everything because of him and his dragon, the weyr had lost two candidates and a dragonet because of his lifemate. I did the right thing, the weyr need strength and Honor. Women are not strong and they do not belong on the backs of dragons, they are weak and their dragons even more so the brown looked up at him, his eyes no longer bloody red but an odd shade of yellow. "But you killed them, you didn't even know them" the brown snorted eye swirling yellow, he was itchy and despite his hunger having been settled he was not in a mood for his riders shocked state of mind. Not to mention that a woman had impressed and the young brown was not impressed with his sister. And hadn't his rider stopped him he'd have displayed it weary openly, not that he hadn't spoken cruel and cold words but still only words.
S'oll was quiet and pale as a ghost as he sat there, knee in the sand a wet cloth in his hands. Hands which were stained crimson from washing Huxlieth, stained with the blood of his fellow candidates. He had imaging many things could happen from impressing, but never had he imaging or wanted to imagine having to wash the blood of others off his dragon. Huxlieth hower did not seem to mind, the brown even seemed somewhat relaxed as his hide was cleaned from blood, sand and egg goo. And with his rider washing his hide, he was also the one ho saw the women approach. She comes from the sand, she wore clothes like S'oll and the real candidates. Huxlieth's lips peel back as he snarls at her S'oll's head swiping to the side to face her as his hand land on Huxlieth's back. He wasn't holding on the dragonet but he felt more secure that the brown wouldn't just charge and attack her if he had physical contact.
She congratulated him, her smile making him relax a little but only a little. He had been scared he had frightened every one he had managed to build a friendship with away, and especially her whom he considered a good friend. A friend he did not wanna lose. Huxlieth on the other hand, had no problem if she'd get lost. His eyes swirling red as he openly snarled at her. "Thank you Mylorah, you will too" she make a better one than him, her bonded wouldn't be a monster like Huxlieth. The weak is right, we will be strong, You and I are great and shall become greater than most. Prove that strength is need over the weakness the brown would say eye on his bonded who still kept his hand firmly pressed against the Browns back.
But Huxlieth had not failed to see her eyes drift to him, and he hadn't forgotten she was dressed in robs she did not belong in. Not to mention he did not like the fact that S'oll seemed happy to see her, happier than to see him. And S'oll belonged to Huxlieth, not this falls weak woman who thought she could be a candidate. Women do not impress, they do not belong on the sands of strong riders. His voice cold and sharp as he looked at her teeth still flashed at her as a deep rumbling snarl left his throat. S'oll would grow paler as his bonded spoke the anger, disgust and dislike from his bonded rushing over his own mind. "No" he finally managed to speak eye on the brown who looked at him, "Mylorah, will make a great golde rider, she belongs here more than you know" the brown would hiss in protest tail trashing behind him hitting the bucket and spilling water over the sand. S'oll would have pulled away had it been any other situation the anger from his bonded making his own blood boil. But would the brown attack if he did not keep him in place? Would he attack Mylorah?
The new weyrling could feel how the brown struggled against the mental grip between them. But despite feeling helpless and just wanting to pull the brown under his arm and run away from everyone he couldn't, he needed to stay. Running wouldn't help, and he wasn't gonna run from his problems. But there were something ells behind the browns anger, he could teel that the young dragon was trying to make sense of the woman wanting to impress gold. It took him a second to unraveled what impressing gold meant to riders from his bonded's mind. It took a moment for him to stop snarling and look at Mylorah with suspicion. Lips still pulled back in a hiss, She should not stand if there is no gold for her to impress. the brown would rumble, as he kept on snarling towards the girl And he is My S'oll, not Siroll