[G] [C] 734.01.01 | Transitions [M'din]

After all the excitement of Hatching, Peorray expected that Wydrith was ready for some quiet time. The dragonet crowded against her legs as they walked the path toward the weyrling barracks, peering about alertly. Perhaps over-alertly, but definitely more settled than she'd been before. Peorray was relieved to see it.

Or maybe that was just relieved to see her dragon at all. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of seeing the pale gold move. Oh, she felt the dragon in her thoughts too, of course, but Peorray had always preferred the evidence of her more physical senses. Seeing the delicate (and wasn't that an irony?) dragon prance along, feeling her soft hide- those were just as reassuring to the new weyrling as the Impression bond itself.

Wydrith wasn't sure about this new place, but given that Peorray seemed so eager to go there, she was willing to give it a chance. She'd been assured that there would be fewer people there, which was a plus. But the other hatchlings would be there too, and the gold couldn't decide how she felt about that. She liked the idea of having company around, but some of them could be rather rough, from what she'd seen. And that she definitely didn't like.

But the place seemed to mean more to her rider than a place to stay. Only weyrlings stayed there and Peorray was proud to be one, proud to be her rider. Wydrith couldn't help giving a pleased croon at the reminder. Otherwise, woman and dragon walked along in companionable silence, wrapped up in their thoughts and each other.

Sorry this took so long to get up. They fought me until I let Wydrith take over halfway. She's going to be a little terror, I can tell already :)

edited: Fixed the lalbelling in the title. Please use this format, thank you.

Bustling away from the crowded Sands and Gather Square, M'din called out to Armath, Do you see them? His brown eyes scanned the sea of people but, even as the Hatching wound down, the Assistant Weyrlingmaster couldn't find Peorray and her newly bonded dragonet.

Yes! By the Weyrling Barracks! Armath enthusiastically replied. The typically laid-back brown was both anxious and thrilled to meet the young gold, and dropped from his place in the skies to crawl beside M'din. What if I scare her? What if... she doesn't like me? he rumbled unhappily.

M'din stopped short, papers full of hastily scrawled notes fluttering out of his hands. He couldn't recall a time in his recent memory that Armath had ever worried about the opinion of another dragon, much less reeling in his personality to be more likable. Recollecting his thoughts and papers, M'din murmured, "It's okay buddy. You're a good guy, and I'm sure she'll see that too." The small brown mumbled disbelievingly, but continued his crawl toward the Barracks without further comment.

When they finally spotted Peorray with a shining white Hatchling at her side, Armath audibly gulped. M'din, meanwhile, had no such reservations. He rushed forward, abandoning his papers and quills in the dusty path to replace them with Peorray in his arms. Kissing her once on the lips and forehead, he wheezed, "Happy birthday; I'm so proud of you!" and squeezed her tighter. "Congratulations!"

Armath pancaked himself to the ground, snout a few paces away from the baby gold, and hummed, Hello, my name is Armath. I saw you hatch. You- you did a great job. Even as he smiled at Peorray, M'din could feel the roiling waves of apprehension emanating from his bonded; the brown was torturing himself with questions about the blonde dragonet, fearful of insulting or frightening her beyond alleviation. Am I talking down to her? Am I too overbearing? Am I too loud? Does she want to be alone?

With a final kiss to Peorray's cheek, M'din released her from his bear-hug and dropped to his knees to face the tiny gold. He reached out a large hand for her inspection, and softly said, "And happy birthday to you, too. It's so nice to meet you."

Wydrith is so freaking adorable. /dies

Peorray returned M'din's embrace without hesitation, thrilled to see the man. And Armath, of course. She couldn't wait to introduce them to Wydrith! The mention of her birthday threw her for a few moments, until she realized her weyrmate was right. In all the excitement of last night and this morning, she'd completely forgotten. She grinned a little wider at the thought that she and her dragon shared the same birthday.

Wydrith flinched a bit at the mention of her Hatching, a memory which seesawed for her between horror at all the watchers and elation at finding Peorray at last. Still, the brown seemed nice enough, had even complimented her. She wanted to be friendly, to dart forward and lick his cheek as Xyreith had done to her, but the gold hesitated. Was it allowed?

"Yes." Peorray told her dragon firmly. M'din could be counted on to be fairly tolerant in general, and if Armath could handle her son, he could take just about anything. His current behavior was was a bit odd, actually. She'd been expecting him to saunter onto the scene with that ever-present attitude and sense of humor she adored. Was there something wrong?

When M'din dropped to greet Wydrith, she crossed over to give the brown's shoulder an affectionate caress as she half-turned to keep the others in sight. "You guys probably remember more about the Hatching than we do, but we're glad you were there."

Between her rider's gesture and the clear affection in Peorray's mind for the pair, Wydrith felt safe in stepping forward to nuzzle M'din's hand -and then, more shyly and briefly, Armath's muzzle- in greeting. Peorray needed her to accept these two and so she could bring herself to be brave and trust them also, until she learned enough about them to like them for themselves.

Thank you. She told man and dragon, relieved to find such nice people after the earlier scare with the big gold. The little gold lay down beside M'din in a mirror of Armath's pose, tentatively nosing his hand as she projected a worldless sensation implying that a scratch behind her headknobs would feel good. I'm Wydrith. Peorray thinks you are fun and know a lot of games. Would you play them with me too? She looked hopefully from the brown to M'din and back.

Armath visibly exhaled, the closest approximation to a draconic sigh that his lungs could manage, as Peorray placed a hand on his side. Her touch snapped his attention back from the mental battle he was currently waging against his insecurities, debating whether or not he'd already irreparably offended little Wydrith with his feeble attempt at a greeting. The goldrider's familiar touch comforted him enough to offer a steady reply, tail idly flicking behind him, We wouldn't have missed it for all of Katila.

As Wydrith returned M'din's affection with a light nuzzle against his hand, the brownrider nodded at his bonded with a smile, wide and dazed. Truly, the little Hatchling must be the sweetest creature on Pern. "Soren is going to love you, Wydrith," he murmured, gently scratching her head knobs with a thick thumb. The moment the gold's snout brushed against Armath's, the brown completely devolved into a joyful blob of awe, eyes whirling bright blues and greens as a hum rumbled from his chest.

Guh- games, yes! I love games. And riddles too.

Calm down, buddy, M'din privately said. She already likes you, and you're turning all mushy and weird. Wydrith is a gold but she's just a baby still, so relax and take it easy.

Armath gave a strained mental grunt before agreeing, Easy, yeah. Really easy. I'm totally easy.

"Well we think Peorray and you are fun too," M'din grinned, half from the darling dragon at his feet and half at the bumbling brown beside him. He rose to face his weyrmate- how foreign that term seemed after all these turns without one, but how delightfully appropriate for his budding relationship with the gorgeous brunette- and said, "I think Armath is just excited to meet Wydrith." He added in hushed whisper, lips brushing Peorray's ear, "I'll tell you later."

It would be an honor to play at riddles with you, Wydrith, Armath answered solemnly. He opened one of his chocolate wings, casting a cool shadow over the group, and wordlessly offered his companions a respite from the glaring sun. The summer heat never bothered him personally, but Wydrith's delicate, pale hide needed all the shade it could find to protect it from cracking. I have one for you: give me food and I will live; give me water and I will die. What am I?