Let there be music! || Anyone Welcome!

[justify]Curled up demurely outside the Craft Hall, Larrikith's eyes were slowly breaching the barrier of shut, two of the three lids closed while the third lazily made to complete the assemble. Under the thin slips of skin and membranes, the glow of her eyes could be seen, whirling so slow the almost weren't moving, the colour bright, yet calming and adding the aurora of sleepiness. With her tail flicked lightly over her nose, she would have looked the perfect picture of comfortable, except that her wings, slightly on the large side, were extended and sprawled to either side of her frame. How she was comfortable and nine tenths asleep with her wings at such odds with the usual tucked-in sleeping posture of the majority of dragons, could be debated, but her relaxed body and deep breaths obviously indicated that she was.
Sitting on the section of his dragon's tail where it made itself visible once more from under her green wing, perched B'jin, an easy smile on his lips and a drum perched between his knees. Having finished with the children in his morning class, B'jin was enjoying a moment of peaceful companionship with his dragon. Despite their bond, and the time they unquestionably spent together, B'jin and Larrikith didn't spend an overly large amount of that time simply relaxing. Instead, they were usually busy or rushing about; bathing, oiling, feeding, flying, hunting, gathering, chores, educating... the list was never ending. So, having been able to dismiss his class early (to their delight) B'jin had left the classroom to find his beloved green bonded snoring in the sun outside.
I don't snore. The sleepy contradiction lacked any apparent heat, and smiling, B'jin glanced towards his dragon's face, noting that her eyes were now fully closed, and he patted the tail he sat upon in a condescending manner.
"If you say so, dear."
I do.
Laughing softly to himself, the greenrider turned his attention once more to the drum between his knees, and tapped his fingertips lightly across it, listening with pleasure to the cascade of sounds that were produced. Beside him, Larrikith's wing twitched slightly, and captured the man's attention.
"Please don't tell me you have the itches again?"
A gusty snort was expelled from the olive green, and the eye closest to her human opened enough to show the whirling orb within. The colours were a little more exotic this time, indicating her amusement. Her voice was wry. Very well then, I won't. I will require oiling soon, however.
B'jin sighed dramatically. "Whatever was I thinking to want to Impress you?" He paused for a moment, and a mocking look of shock made itself apparent on his face, eyes widening dramatically as he turned with a dramatic gasp towards Larrikith's amused eye. "Oh! That's right! I didn't!"
The dragon snorted this time, the old whine not ruffling her feathers in the least; Next time you will think twice before attending a Hatching. Her words were given with the distinct impression of a smirk, and the dragon was rewarded with a dark, dry look from her bonded. She snorted, the warm air ruffling the grasses in front to her nose, and she shifted her tail tip, curling it back towards B'jin instead of over her muzzle.
"Sweetheart, I wasn't even interested in a Firelizard." The voice, heavy with love, was additionally weighed down with wonder. "I will never understand what made you chose me."
Acceptance doesn't require understanding, Larrikith replied, her smile apparent in her voice, if not on her maw. Her emotions peaked to smug when B'jin just shook his head.
"And your inability to give consistent answers is of no help."
Your questions are consistent enough for the both of us. Why make life boring by knowing the answer before you ask the question?
This time, B'jin laughed, for her response was perhaps the only answer Larrikith did give consistently, and he took great pleasure in having her repeat it for him.
"I know, love." Standing up, B'jin placed his drum carefully by Larrikith's clawed foot, smiling at her as she shifted her head slightly to better watch him before he climbed up her side to reach his guitar. Taking it down from her neck spine, the Harper trained rider returned to his seat upon her tail, and settled against her side. Accommodating the man, Larrikith withdrew her left wing tucked it against her spine.
"Thank you, my dear." There was a slight pause as B'jin ran his fingers across the strings, a smile touching his lip as the notes filled the air. Larrikith hummed her approval and pleasure as her lids once more closed. Basking in the warmth of her presence and love, B'jin began playing, the notes improvised and the tune resulting in a soft lullaby.[/justify]

((Hmm, I figure it's time to stop being a hermit.

Sorry it took me so long to get going. I have been getting a lot of timeout errors lately, but it's been much smoother today :D

Also, I distrust myself with coding, so I borrowed the hex code for Ronarth's speech from your rules post. Huzzah!))


Ronarth was, naturally, preoccupied only with Nirinath. The excellent (by his standards) weather was a mild distraction, but not nearly enough to keep the rumored, all-important flight out of his mind.


She’s so beautiful! he sighed joyously as he coasted through the humid air. D’ren just grunted.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he suggested. It wasn’t that D’ren had no interest in this tasty little rumor; on the contrary, he was every bit as anxious. As hesitate as initially felt about his position, he found himself hoping beyond all else that he got to keep it.

What good was a single term? What difference could actually be made in such a short time? Nothing, that’s what. Katila didn’t need shifting, uncertain leadership. They needed stability. These were trying times, and if the weyr was going to survive and build it’s strength to face the challenges ahead, it needed to be guided by a firm hand…not subject to the changing policy of a half-dozen untested weyrleaders, all in short succession.


I told you, Ronarth said pleasantly, You have nothing to worry about. I am the one who has to do the work…and I will win the bronze continued with simple, almost childlike confidence. There wasn’t even a tinge of arrogance in that tone, just smooth and casual matter-of-factness, as if he were commenting on the color of his own hide.


D’ren smiled. Of course you will, Ronarth he thought pleasantly. The dragon was right about one thing, though; it was out of the rider’s hands.


Ronarth landed near the craft hall. He fanned his wings for a moment before craning his neck downwards, allowing his rider to climb to the ground. “Thank you,” D’ren said, giving the dragon a firm slap on the neck. “I needed to get away for a bit, and this place is usually nice and quiet.”


Ronarth’s nostrils flared in a pseudo-sigh. I would like to go flying later, when it’s cooler he said. D’ren just nodded and  wiped some of the sweat from his brow. What miserable weather. “Of course, my friend. For now, why don’t you go rest in the sun for a while?”

Ronarth rumbled in approval and took off, leaving his rider to his attempted isolation. D’ren loved people, but not right now! He’d been working all morning. A little break in the heat of the day would ensure his robustness later in the afternoon.

By the way Ronarth called back as he  flew towards his favorite sunning spot, Larrikith is there close by. Her rider is making sounds that I think you might like he said. Ronarth didn’t understand music, but he liked it. He knew his rider liked it, too.

D’ren shook his head and suppressed an amused chuckle. Ronarth knew the greenrider was about and said nothing until now, even though he knew D’ren was looking to be alone?

Well, maybe Ronarth was smarter than he seemed. Now that D’ren thought about it, perhaps it would be nice to have someone to talk to. D’ren shrugged and slowly strolled around the building, observing it with some level of admiration. He loved most of the young weyr’s structures, though he figured he was bound to be biased. It was nice to get a good look at the craft hall, which he rarely visited, without too many people bustling around. No one was clamoring for attention or approval. He could just…enjoy it.

He heard the music before he rounded the corner. It was, as Ronarth supposed, quite soothing. D’ren closed his eyes momentarily and  decided the man responsible must be quite the musician, for even a few moments of immersion made him almost sleepy. Or, perhaps, he was just tired.

“Hello there,” he called out as the green and her rider came into view. D’ren was sure he’d seen the pair around before, but he couldn’t recall names right off. “It’s a nice afternoon for some music, is it not?”

[justify]We have company, Larrikith intoned sleepily and without bothering to open her eyes whilst allowing her sleepy, deep voice to slowly traverse across the edge of B'jin's mind, like fingertips across a silken sheet. B'jin, startled by the sudden intrusion of his dragon's concious, faltered across the strings of his guitar, and the sound was grating after the gentle melody he had been playing. B'jin flinched, grimacing, and shot a dirty look at Larrikith.

"Who is it?" B'jin asked lowly, shifting his seat on the green dragon, and getting comfortable once more. Altering the way he held his guitar he once more began playing, this time paying just a slight bit more attention to the world around him, so as to avoid striking the wrong note once more. His fingers played lightly over the strings, and the soft music filled the air once more, the relatively empty hall filling with the sound. It wasn't often that the Craft Hall was quiet, and even less often that the building was near empty. B'jin could still hear the occasional voice, and some of the laughter of the Weyrbrats, but most had fled to the Dining Hall for the midday meal, and t escape the sweltering heat. As the thought processed, B'jin tilted his head, not letting his fingers falter, and wiped his forehead on his shoulder.

The Weyrleader, Larrikith murmured. B'jin stopped playing, his hand clapping down over the strings and his fingers tightening as he turned slowly to look at the green dragon he was bonded to. The creature in question was still, by all appearances, very much asleep. Her breathing was deep and regular and her eyes were closed. Having just heard her voice in his head, however, B'jin was quite aware that she was awake. He could feel her conciousness playing alongside his own.

"Larrikith!" The word was whine, demand, outrage and despair, all wrapped up into one. Larrikith simply sighed, apparently in her sleep. The tip of her tail twitched slightly even as her wing muscles relaxed and allowed the large appendages to expand slightly and thus let the slight breeze wash over them, and bring mild relief. "Larriiii." B'jin groaned, music forgotten as he looked around, waiting for the appearance of his Weyrleader. Oh, of all the people to join them!

Relax. He enjoys your music. Larrikith peered up at B'jin now, one eye opening slightly and whirling so slowly the motion was almost not there. B'jin frowned down at his partner, but allowed his fingers to flicker over the strings of his guitar once more, and the notes danced up into the low breeze, and towards the cloudless sky.

"How do you  know that?" B'jin demanded, even as he scowled at the dragon.  Larrikith simply closed her eyes as she finally saw the Weyrleader come around the corner Everyone likes your music was the reassuring murmur. A moment later, her breath was expelled in a gust of laughter as B'jin jumped visibly at the sound of the Bronzerider's voice, and toppled sideways off her tail to land on the ground with an oohf! and the thump of flesh on ground. Larrikith opened her eyes and lifted her head, peering down at her rider with amusement. After a moment of staring, she lowered her head once more and closed her eyes, ignoring the two men.

B'jin, his face flushing a brilliant shade of red, scrambled to find his feet and stand, still holding his guitar protectively against his chest. Brown eyes huge in his face, and smile curiously absent, B'jin finally found his feet and thumped a fist to his heart, dropping a bow to the Weyrleader and looking anywhere but at the man as he stood tall once more. The greenrider's face was still a wonderful shade of red, and his eyes were darting in all directions. Larrikith's even, solid breathing was disrupted at intervals by expulsions of breath that were quite obviously intended to be laughter. It was a manner she had picked up off B'jin early in their bond, and something that was relatively unique to the dragon herself.

"I, um, yes, yes it is!" Slowly over coming his embarrassment, B'jin kicked Larrikith lightly in the tail with his heel, and fiddled with the strings of his guitar, finally looking the Weyrleader in the eye and his face lighting up with a smile. "There are very few times," B'jin said, smiling and his voice calm and secure, "that are not good for music."
You're pathetic, love.

---

Code:

[span style="background-color:#111905;"][color=#93aa73]Larrikith Speech[/color][/span]

Yay!
reply done! I delayed a little, as I saw Catnip stalking the thread. Anyone else is still welcome to join! =D
[/justify]

((Woo, code is fixed. The yellow may be a bit too bright, but I tried several darker shades and most of them were hard to see. May tamper with it some more next time.))

D’ren smiled weakly, equally flattered and disappointed by the greenrider’s display of nervousness and respect. “That won’t be necessary,” he said in a muted tone, lifting one hand and delicately waving the formality away. He tactfully avoided mentioning B’jin’s little tumble; had he been the one to fall, D’ren certainly would have hated to have someone else call attention to it!

“I’m not here to give you trouble. In fact, I didn’t expect to see anyone else about at all this afternoon,” he commented as casually as possible, though he found it increasingly hard to do so around wingriders these days. He didn’t want to change, but he found it difficult not to change when people treated him so differently.


He flashed B’jin a smile. “I agree with you,” he said, nodding slowly to the stringed instrument before casually approaching the wall and leaning against it. “You play quite well. I had a desire to play when I was younger, but my fingers are a bit too thick.”


And you lack rhythm! Ronarth reminded him helpfully. The bronze wasn’t even sure what that meant, he just knew that the sentiment was lurking about shamefully in his rider’s subconscious.


Well I’m not going to say that D’ren replied diplomatically. Surely it took a very patient mind to be bonded to Ronarth, he thought.

D’ren turned his attention to B’jin’s lounging green. She was lovely and in good health, and the mirthful way she breathed almost seemed to echo laughter. D’ren didn’t assume that’s what it was intended to be, but it certainly reminded him of it…and it was certainly charming. “She looks conent,” he commented. “I hope I haven’t intruded.”

Echlerov had been working in the back of the craft hall, siphoning out his most recent batch of wine. This particular batch was made from the local blackmarshberries, a fruit that he had known that would make a decent wine.  It had just reached the point where it was done fermenting, and now it only had to age. It could be drank now, but he knew that it would be much better after it had aged a few months. Most wine was. There was little more he could do now, so he finished cleaning the area up, and then made his way out. 

There were two men outside, both riders, familiar to him, but not ones that he really knew well. They just weren't the people that he tended to hang around, what with his duties keeping him mostly in the kitchens when he wasn't working on his wines. He had probably spoken to them before, the weyr was small enough that you really did know everyone at least in passing, besides the newest stolen northerners, and even they didn't stay unfamiliar for long.

He listened to them as he approached, and since they didn't seem like they were talking about anything important, he didn't feel bad about joining them. He enjoyed spending time around riders, and their dragons, even if they were mostly all older than him, and he grinned as he came up to him. "Good afternoon," he said in greeting, hoping that he wasn't interrupting anything. Just because they hadn't been talking about anything important as he approached, didn't mean that they hadn't been earlier.

They were more than welcome to tell him to leave, that was their choice, and, if they did, he would leave. No big deal. He had been the one who was interrupting their conversation.   

[justify]When D'ren let the greenriders clumsy actions slide by, B'jin relaxed more, his shoulders falling to a natural slump of general laziness at holding a correct posture, and his smile became more sincere and less flustered.

"I was lucky," B'jin smiled, taking up the topic that was offered by the Weyrleader, and latching onto it with a delight that came from discussing one's education. It didn't hurt that B'jin loved music, especially his own, and there was very little he enjoyed talking about more than his playing abilities. "The children finished their required lessons early, so I sent them away." He grinned happily, obviously as delighted to have the early afternoon to himself as the children had undoubtedly been.

With the Weyrleader having waved away formality, and obviously being there to relax, B'jin once more settled himself down on Larrikith's green tail, and adjusted his guitar to rest securely across his lap. B'jin laughed aloud at D'ren's comment about Larrikith's contentment and when he stopped, his face was alive with mirth.

"She flew a few days ago," he smirked, as if that said everything the Weyrleader would need to know, and possibly more. "Not at al-" Another comes. Larrikith interrupted rather abruptly, and B'jin started, dropping his sentence half way through the word and blinked. Shaking his head and shooting a dirty look at the dragon for interrupting him mid-sentence, B'jin had just opened his mouth to ask where this other person was, when the young man joined their group.

"Hi!" the green rider chirped, possibly a little too loud and excitable to be completely  acceptable, but warm enough by the soft glow in his eyes and the easy smile on his face.

Who is it? - Didn't search him. - Oh.

"Larrikith says hi!" B'jin added, his smile twisting slightly into a smirk as Larrikith's green head rose, and she gave her bonded a look that was obviously a disgusted glare or irritation, snorted darkly, and flicked her tail with enough power to send the man flying off and several feet away. Satisfied, she wiggled her shoulders, and curled up once more.

B'jin, picking himself up from where he'd fallen near D'ren, had a smug smirk on his face, and seemed completely at ease with the fact that his dragon had just sent him flying in denial.

"So, maybe not, but she has buttons, and I enjoy pressing them."

---

o_O; B'jin is an idiot XD[/justify]

And...he's down again D'ren reported with some amusement. He rather liked greenriders; they were delightfully spirited. Had Ronarth thrown D'ren down on the ground in front of people like that, the rider would be explaining himself and trying to save his pride...not because he cared, but because he was Weyrleader, for Faranth's sake! There was a certain image he was expected to maintain and a certain level of conduct he was expected to uphold.

He missed laughing about silly things.

Have you considered that you worry too much? Ronarth asked. Those two seem friendly. I doubt they would judge you so harshly the dragon reasoned. In his mind, he wondered why anyone would. The cruelty of humans towards their own puzzled him at times.

D'ren smiled faintly and brushed his concerns aside. Ronarth was right; he needed to stop worrying. This was breaktime for a reason, now wasn't it? He sighed with amusement and slowly angled his head towards the newcomer. "Good afternoon," he said in reply before turning his attention back towards B'jin.

"I suppose she does have her buttons now, doesn't she?" he commented. "It seems like the flight would have evened her out a bit," he mused. Yeah, that was a little bit more information than he expected to receive, but the candid nature of B'jin's comment, graphic though it was, just reminded him of his general sentiment towards greens.

Yep, green dragons and their riders had an endearing spirit about them, all right.

He paused for a few deliberate moments and nodded towards B'jin. "I'm sorry son, your name has slipped my mind," he said.

You could have just asked me Ronarth reminded him. The bronze liked to feel useful, and retrieving names was something useful he could do without the risk of a terrible social blunder. I know D'ren replied smoothly. I'm just trying to make conversation

At the same time, he glanced towards Echlerov and nodded minutely, inviting the other boy to introduce himself as well.

Thick, dark clouds are rapidly rolling in across the sky, despite the previously sunny weather. While there's no rumble of thunder to herald a thunderstorm, the clouds are definitely laden with heavy rain. The wind driving it will bring the rain over you within ten minutes.

The area was starting to darken, and the boy knew that it was likely a storm. It was nothing that any of them were unused to, and, as such, he ignored it. He wouldn't melt in a little bit of rain, and should they really need to, the Craft Hall was right there for them to duck into.

He bit back a laugh as the green sent her rider sprawling. He wasn't sure if the older male was the type to get upset at people laughing at him or not, and it was safer just not to. He could always laugh about later if he really felt the need to.

"Does she do that often?" It slipped out before he had a chance to sensor his thoughts, and he grinned wryly. Oh well. Hopefully the rider wouldn't be offended.

"I'm Echerlov, by the way." He knew the other rider by reputation only, seeing as he was the Weyrleader, but this was the first time that he had really ever interacted with him. "Journeyman Vinter." It went without saying that he was a candidate, there weren't enough of them in the required age range for him not to be, and since there wasn't currently a clutch, it wasn't essential anyways. When there was a clutch he would be proud to call himself a candidate, but until then... this would do.

[justify]B'jin turned his sunny expression upon the young man, and nodded once, enthusiastically, but not quite over the top. Running his hands over himself in sharp, slapping manners he cleaned off the dirt and grasses that had stuck to him after his unofficial flying lesson, courtesy of Larrikith.

"Larrikith is surprisingly predictable, for such an unpredictable dragon," was his reply, eyes bright with amusement though he offered nothing beyond the cryptic words. Whether he was answering D'ren or Echlerov could be debated, but B'jin felt his answer was officially classifiable to be answerable to both questions. Larrikith, in her unpredictable nature, rarely did something twice. But, by being so unpredictable, B'jin had learned over time the ways he could predict her behaviour, her responses or her comebacks. It wasn't always right, but he was rarely wrong.

Larrikith gave an irritated snort, at so being discribed, and flicked her tail but didn't get up. She seemed comfortable as she listened to the three men chatter about silly human things.

D'ren's addressing him as 'son' caused B'jin to stare at the Weyrleader blankly for a moment, unsure if it were he that were actully being addressed (His attention is upon you) or if he were simply looking at B'jin and speaking to Echlerov. His blank look changed to one of confusion when he realised D'ren was, indeed, speaking to him, and blinked. Being a decade older than the Weyrleader, he found the use of the term a little confusing, (What's confusing? You act like a Hatchling, and you will be treated as.) B'jin ignored Larrikith, which amused the green enough to open her eyes and look at the group with a sleepy laziness.

Hearing Echlerov speak, however, B'jin turned his attention upon the young man and grinned his welcome. It was nice to see the young vintner getting out and about and being friendly (B'jin had been the object of rage in some cases! Not fun!) "B'jin, of Larrikith." The so named rider grinned. "Sr. Journeyman Harper."

Suddenly, his smile vanished, and he stared around wildly. Where had his guitar gone?!

---

Code:

[span style="background-color:#111905;"][color=#93aa73]Larrikith Speech[/color][/span]

[/justify]

"B'jin, that's right. I apologize for that, I'm not particularly good with names. And Echlerov? A candidate as well, no doubt?" Most of them technically were, but he hated to make assumptions.

Larrikith's assessment was correct. D'ren was a paternalistic sort of man. Anyone who acted younger may as well be younger. There wasn't anything wrong with it, it was just part of his intricate classification system.

D'ren angled his head upwards and examined the sky. "Would you look at that?" he mused. The sudden coolness brought on by the clouds was welcomed, but he had no desire to stand in the rain. How's that looking from your end?"

It's getting darker and darker Ronarth said as he turned his gleaming eyes upward. Do I need to come and get you?

No, thank you D'ren said, watching as B'jin started looking around for his missing instrument.

"Perhaps we should move this conversation inside? It looks like the weather is taking a turn for the worst."

But what about his guitar? Ronarth asked with a touch of oddly-placed urgency. D'ren pursed his lips and started looking around. "Ah, your instrument, of course," he said. He didn't bother to explain himself. B'jin was a rider, surely he understood dragon-born non-sequiters. And Echlerov? Well, he'd been around long enough to be used to it by now, surely!

He grinned back at B'jin, sensing the truth in the harper's words. They were connected, the rider, and the dragon, and it made sense that she would be predictable to him.

"That's right," he responded to D'ren. "Kidnapped especially to be a part of the last clutch." He chuckled, and then let himself glance back up at the sky. It seemed to be getting worse from when he had looked at it a moment ago, and he nodded in agreement. "Inside is probably a good idea."

When the bronze rider mentioned the harper's instrument, Echlerov was briefly confused. Didn't the harper just have it? Huh. Apparently it must have flown off when the green had flicked B'jin away.

He began to look around, glancing in the direction that the male had been tossed. He didn't see the guitar on his first look and he moved in that direction. It couldn't have gone far, and if all three of them looked for it, they should be able to spot it before the storm hit.

[justify]B'jin was becoming somewhat frantic; where was his guitar?! It was a particularly precious instrument to the man, as it was one his past Weyrmate Nemall had given him during the plague. The fellow harper had spent more than a little time crafting it while they were in exile. While the two men hadn't been together for the past three turns, it was something that the greenrider was extremely sentimental about, and the thought of losing it was rapidly driving him slightly hysterical. In his hysteria, he forgot all about his current companions as he searched wildly, occasionally casting frantic eyes to the sky as he dashed to and fro around the area he had been tossed by Larrikith, gaze flickering at intervals towards the ever darkening sky. As he went, he muttered under his breath, a combination of choice curse words and frantic babbling about the guitar and how could he have been so stupid as to lose track of it?

Quietly perched as she was, Larrikith watched her bonded with fond amusement as he slowly became more and more fretful about where he had put the instrument. Her tail curled slowly, moving away from her body and out towards B'jin. The long, green appendage met the man half way in a frantic glance at the sky, and he went tumbling over it, falling on his face once more. Unamused this time, the rider climbed to his feet and threw a vicious look at Larrikith, who seemed unphased by it.

"Do you mind?" B'jin snapped, obviously quite worked up in his intent to find the stringed instrument. Larrikith raised her head some, and tilted it, almost frowning at her rider as her eye colour flashed in colours that indicated irritation and slight distress. They sparkled momentarily into amusement, however, before grumbling back to irritation and she snorted. B'jin had his own head tilted as he stared at the dragon and then pounced on her.

"You horrible, horrible beast!" The words contained a combination of irritation, exasperation and devoted love as he bounded backwards, once more full of energy, with the guitar in his hands. It had, by all appearances, fallen down between Larrikith's tail and her side in the process of flicking her rider away from her earlier in the gathering. B'jin, occupied with checking the instrument over, almost didn't notice as the clouds finally began to lose their grip on the rain within.

You have buttons, and I enjoy pressing them. the green intoned tartly, but B'jin ignored her as the rain was finally noticed. Squealing in a particularly girlish manner, the man wrapped his arms around his beloved instrument and dashed towards the Hall doorway, yelping back over his shoulder, as if the other two men were unaware of the fact that it was now pouring rain:

"You're getting wet!"

Skidding to a halt in the doorway, B'jin began to once more check his precious guitar over, totally forgetting about the drums that were sitting at Larrikith's feet.

---

Code:

[span style="background-color:#111905;"][color=#93aa73]Larrikith Speech[/color][/span]

[/justify]

D'ren's face fell ever so slightly at the word 'kidnapped'. He'd never been truly comfortable with that decision, but it was something that needed to be done. Everyone knew it, too. The preservation of Pern trumped the importance of individual dignity,

He smiled apologetically at Echlerov. "Well, you seem to be doing just fine in spite of that," he said softly as he started to back up towards the craft hall. Those clouds were going to burst at any moment!

Of course, he had no way of knowing his important that instrument was to B'jin, though he could certainly see that the greenrider was frantic over it. "Calm yourself," he said with a mild chuckle, I'm sure it's close by! Those things can't bounce far, I'd imagine..."

I think he's actually upset Ronarth warned. D'ren frowned, but before he could say anything, B'jin started to rant against his green.

The rain was coming down hard now. D'ren stepped carefully inside and held one arm out, motioning for B'jin to follow. "You found it, I see?" he called out, concerned but also trying not to chuckle. It was rather amusing, but he would hate to offend the greenrider...

He hadn't meant to make D'ren upset, and he frowned as well. Perhaps he shouldn't have referred to it as kidnapping, even if he was just playfully teasing. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be here. There's a few things that I miss, but for the most part it's great." 

It didn't take much longer for B'jin to find his guitar, with his dragon having hid it from his rider. He couldn't help but chuckle as B'jin scolded his dragon. They were amusing, and it was interesting to watch them interact.

He was about to follow the two riders inside when he noticed the drums at the green dragon's feet. "Do you want me to grab your drums, B'jin?" He didn't think that the rain would be good for them, but he didn't want to snag them without permission. He didn't know if the green rider was the type of person to get upset with people touching his things or not.

[justify]"Yes please!" B'jin called, the same moment Larrikith flung her wings out to cover the young human that was still standing near her. Rising to her feet, she used the large, and in her humble opinion, beautiful appendages to cover the airspace above Echlerov's head. The rain, which began in soft patters, danced over the membranes between her wing joints. As the downpour began, the tempo increased. Larrikith turned her head slightly under her own wing to bring her dark face close to that of the young man she had not Searched.

Come, she intoned bluntly, her voice in his mind both soul warming and ice in the blood; a vocal indication of her particular personality. Not waiting for the vintner to pick up the drums by her feet, the green dragon began to move slowly in the direction of the Hall doorway, keeping her right wing extended out over the hopeful candidate whilst the other was used to balance her bulk.

Under the safe haven of the Craft hall roof, B'jin was looking carefully over his guitar, making sure Larrikith had done it no harm in her desire to be amusing. Without turning his attention away from the precious instrument, B'jin answered his Weyrleader's question in quiet tones, almost as if he wasn't sure quite how to answer.

"Yes," the frown furrowing the man's brows were particularly out of place amongst the abundance of laughter lines, "she knows how much it means to me." Sighing, B'jin finally looked up and his eyes crinkled with fond memories. Brown eyes flickered for a moment, before he went back to examining the guitar.

I am going home, Larrikith poked her head into the hall, having made her way over with the journeyman. She breathed warm air on B'jin, who smiled lovingly at the dragon as she withdrew her head and made her way into the open area where she could take off. Gaining enough altitude to safely navigate the buildings of Katila, Larrikith returned to her couch by B'jin's little hut.

"I love thunderstorms."

B'jin's comment was herald by a flash of blinding light across the cloud-blackened sky.

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Edit; I totally know how to post with the correct account >_>[/justify]

Music and the sounds of people, forced Lymsleia to peek her head out of the  small  corner where she was working. The sound of the thunderstorm of her head had jarred her out awake and for a long moment, she sat listening to the rain simply fall on the roof top. It drifted and fell, in a way she'd perhaps not experience in the nothern rainfall.

She meandered out and into the  space where B'jin, Eschelov and D'ren. She took a long moment to observe the trio.  The thunder clap made her jump... right into a pile of instruments. She  toppled looking momentarily dazed as she clattered to the floor, wincing. " SHARDS!" the tone was unlady like the, heap Lymsleia was in was as well. Her eyes  closed as she clutched a small cut on her arm. "Ow..." She mutted standing slowly and beginning to put away instruments.

"Did I hear music? Or the beginnings there of?" She asked rubbing her arms which now were covered with a few small welts.

Well then, it seemed musical crisis had been averted; at least for the time being! D'ren smiled softly as he stepped back into the craft hall, shielding himself from the rain. "I don't mind them myself," he commented to B'jin, his words drowned out by the drone of thunder that followed the brilliant lightning flash.


I doubt they could hear you Roanrth said helpfully, as he often did.

No doubt. "I don't mind them myself!" D'ren repeated as he nodded apologetically to B'jin. "It helps cool things off, and the sound is quite pleasant to sleep to...though I'll admit, I wish it had waited until this evening." Now that would have been a nice way to round out the day.

Presently, his gaze shifted to a newcomer, who he'd only faintly detected in his peripheral vision. A young lady. "Good afternoon, miss," he said, turning towards her and holding one hand out in a gentlemanly manner. His browns furrowed in concern. "Have you hurt yourself?"

I think she's fine. You do coddle females so! Ronarth said approvingly. You're so very nice to them Of course, Ronarth didn't understand the subtleties and stipulations of human culture very well.

D'ren cut his eyes towards the fallen instruments. He hated to see the girl hurt, but good gracious, what clumsiness! Though he couldn't say too much himself, as Ronarth's clumsiness had once almost cost them their lives. "Hm, I suppose that'll need dealing with," he said before turning to pick them up.

Echlerov had snatched up the drum the moment B'jin had given him permission, and not a moment too soon. The storm had hit with a vengeance,  and he blinked curiously when Larrikith spoke to him. "Okay." He made his way to the building, protected by the green dragon's wing, and once he had reached it, turned to her for a moment. "Thank you."

He sat the drums down once he was away from the door, next to B'jin. "I like the rain more than the thunder." Echlerov said, making his views on the matter known. "Lightning's pretty though."

They were joined by a girl, and he smiled politely at her, and then frowned when she tripped and fell into some instruments. The bronze rider beat him to asking if she was alright, which was fine, as long as someone made sure that the girl was okay, and if it was needed, he knew where they kept the numbweed if it needed to be fetched.