31.Jan.12, 06:46 AM
"No."
B'jin had waited, in calm silence, as Talian responded shortly. His silence continued for several moments after the young healer's question, before B'jin was sure he wasn't going to immediately speak again, and as such, he could respond. His single word response was in answer to all the boy's statements, but especially to his question. B'jin's expression had mellowed out, and while not in the slightest bit happy, he didn't look at all angry and his eyes had returned to their soft, deep warm brown. He blinked slowly, and then leaned back on his seat. He flicked his long legs out in front of him, and obviously got quite comfortable before he bothered to speak any more.
"First," he began, voice soft and lilting with a musical quality that hadn't been there for most of their conversation. As ti returned, it made the previous absence notable. "Insult a dragon, and expect the rider to eat you alive." He wasn't exaggerating, and his expression altered to be almost amused as he raised his eyebrows. Besides Talian telling him he wouldn't do it again, (which B'jin was almost sure was said simply to appease him), the greenrider was pretty sure even if Talian did, he'd realise it wasn't just B'jin who would leap in to defend his beast. Every rider would, and very few of them would bother to explain why afterwards. The boy would understand, one day.
"Secondly, I am not your master," this time B'jin's voice was softer, and held tones of understanding. He knew what it was like, to request leave when all you wanted to do was throw a brick into their face and run for the hills. He knew what it was like to be sniped at continually, for doing things wrong - particularly during a Weyrlinghood he had never prepped for - without the man in question bothering to ask why.
"Here. Drink this," B'jin offered the young man a fresh mug of Klah, the steam swirling off it. He loved dragon-express... Though he was going to owe a lot of favours, the way he was calling in cups of Klah. His own fresh mug was swirling steam next to his mug of cold. He used his free hand to prod the cold mug away some, lest he grab it by accident.
B'jin had waited, in calm silence, as Talian responded shortly. His silence continued for several moments after the young healer's question, before B'jin was sure he wasn't going to immediately speak again, and as such, he could respond. His single word response was in answer to all the boy's statements, but especially to his question. B'jin's expression had mellowed out, and while not in the slightest bit happy, he didn't look at all angry and his eyes had returned to their soft, deep warm brown. He blinked slowly, and then leaned back on his seat. He flicked his long legs out in front of him, and obviously got quite comfortable before he bothered to speak any more.
"First," he began, voice soft and lilting with a musical quality that hadn't been there for most of their conversation. As ti returned, it made the previous absence notable. "Insult a dragon, and expect the rider to eat you alive." He wasn't exaggerating, and his expression altered to be almost amused as he raised his eyebrows. Besides Talian telling him he wouldn't do it again, (which B'jin was almost sure was said simply to appease him), the greenrider was pretty sure even if Talian did, he'd realise it wasn't just B'jin who would leap in to defend his beast. Every rider would, and very few of them would bother to explain why afterwards. The boy would understand, one day.
"Secondly, I am not your master," this time B'jin's voice was softer, and held tones of understanding. He knew what it was like, to request leave when all you wanted to do was throw a brick into their face and run for the hills. He knew what it was like to be sniped at continually, for doing things wrong - particularly during a Weyrlinghood he had never prepped for - without the man in question bothering to ask why.
"Here. Drink this," B'jin offered the young man a fresh mug of Klah, the steam swirling off it. He loved dragon-express... Though he was going to owe a lot of favours, the way he was calling in cups of Klah. His own fresh mug was swirling steam next to his mug of cold. He used his free hand to prod the cold mug away some, lest he grab it by accident.