Mine? (Garawan is Searched)

Xanadu Weyr - Beach
The unerring range of subdued white rises and falls in a multitude of sandy dunes, creating an endless amount of tiny valleys constantly demolished and rebuilt by the frequent arrival or departure of a dragon. Smoothing out as it slopes gently to the edge of the deep blue water, the sand darkens and a shell here and there stands out for children to collect. The beach itself is set along a low cliff - the height lessoning as one heads eastwards, blocking a portion of the beach from direct access.
The wide wide stretch of water opens up to the east, the far distant shore way beyond the horizon and the beach curves ever so slowly round to east and west, distant arms of land embracing the wind-ruffled Caspian Lake. East leads up to the mouth of the Rubicon River, where the protecting cliff is merely an arms length higher then the sand, and beyond that, a winding road leading out of Xanadu's territory. Westwards, the beach narrows as the cliff swings out, leaving a path wide enough for dragons in single file before cutting in to the sheltered cove designated the Weyrling Beach. However, cut in the cliff face to the north are a variety of rough, wide staircases, providing access to the clearing and to the meadow.

A break in the morning's rain finds If'an at the lake with Izzuth, dragon chest deep in the chilly water while the rider hangs from his neck, washing the great brown's spotted jaw, "Hold still, ya thief… I ain't wantin' t' take another swim, yet." The words are muttered, but the blond man's voice carries quite well over the water.

A slender black-haired man walks along the beach, a gold firelizard cradled in his the crook of one arm and a bronze on his shoulder. He'd have passed by entirely, without noticing, if not for two things. Firstly, hearing the voice of the man in the water. This makes him look up from softly petting the firelizard in his arms and looking for the source. Secondly, the bronze firelizard on his shoulder perks up and gives a trilling sound of greeting to the rider/dragon pair. Garawan looks in that direction, pausing in his walking to turn and look. He raises his free hand, the one not occupied by gold firelizard butt, and waves in the rider's direction.

If'an doesn't seem to notice the man walking on the beach. It's only when Izzuth rumbles a response to the little bronze that the rider looks in the direction of the beach. The bulky blond man hauls himself back uprite, straddling the brown's neck, and offers a wave of his own. He leans over to give the dragon a rough pat, signaling for him to dip his head and rinse. When he does, the rider slips off into the cold water with a gasp, "Shardin' cold!" It's not long after that the dragon follows, bath apparently done, as the pair head for a bucket of oil and a rag sitting just out of reach of the water. Once they're out of the water, the brown settled comfortably on the sand and a dry towel draped around the rider's shoudlers, an actual greeting is offered, "Nice day f'r a walk." Even if it is cold, particularly for the still dripping rider.

Garawan is not envious of the chilly, wet rider. Especially not now! However, he doesn't say anything about this… that would be rude. What he /does/ say is, "It is indeed. Particularly when it is not raining." He smiles. "Do please let me know if you need anything. I am a trader, you see." Yes, he's totally trying to make a sale here! Not /pushing/ one, but leaving the option open. He comes to stand a respectful distance away from the brown and his rider, watching with a tilted head.

Still wet from his bath, Izzuth rumbles as quietly as a dragon his size can, stretching his neck out to carefully look over the trader when he offers his services if If'an needs anything, earning a poke in the ribs with the oil coated paddle, "Oi! Ya don't need nothin' else, ya thief! Ya a'ready got so much stuff Aisouhkoth barely fits in yur lair with ya." The rider looks over at the dark haired man, "I'll be lettin' ya know if'n I c'n think a' anythin'."

Garawan chuckles quietly at the response from the rider to his dragon. But he wisely does not comment. Not until the rider speaks to him. Then he offers a respectful bow to the pair. "Of course. If you require anything, the caravan is here in Xanadu. More often than not, I can be found near it." A pause. "Ah, how rude of me." He somehow manages to execute a graceful bow while still holding that sleepy firelizard. "My name is Garawan. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintence, sirs." Yes, he does mean them both.

"Well met, Garawan." The rider waves the oily paddle absently, "I'm If'an and this greedy guy is Izzuth." He falls silent, using a soft cloth to carefully massage oil into a slightly dry spot on the brown's hide, frowning slightly and muttering about the dragon's spots making it hard to tell when he's dirty and when he's clean. The huge brown croons and, without fully standing, shuffles towards the younger man, his eyes whirling curiously, "Oi!" The blond man protests the movement, almost getting pushed over, "Hold still ya big thief!"

Garawan does not move when the brown shuffles closer to him. In a slightly amused tone, he notes, "Are you all right, sir?" He's talking to If'an here. Then to Izzuth, "Do be careful, good sir. Your rider almost went over." He'll move to assist if it seems like it's needed. In response, the bronze firelizard on his shoulder squawks at the gold. Oi! Get up, goldiebutt! With little more than prodding from the bronze, the little gold climbs up Garawan's shirt and clings to his shoulder, much like a winged ferret! This leaves Garawan's hands free to assist if necessary.

Izzuth huffs, blowing hot dragon breath over the trader and his firelizards, while If'an mutters and stomps through the sand in the direction of his lifemate's head, "I don' care what ya think 'bout him, ya big thief! Ya-" He falls silent and blinks a couple of times before slowly frowning and looking at the younger man more carefully, "Ya sure?" He rubs his hand over the dragon's partially oiled hide, really looking at the traider, now while using one hand to pull one corner of the towel from around his shoulders up to rub at his wet hair.

"Goodness!" Garawan chuckles as he and his firelizards are dragon-breath'd! The gold draws herself up where she's clinging to the trader's shirt, emitting a quiet chirr at Izzuth. Of /course/ her perch is bestest perch in the world! But the brown is too big to share her perch. Izzuth could /be/ a perch, though, couldn't he? Garawan, meanwhile, looks to If'an as the blond man suddenly falls silent. He looks between the rider and dragon a few times, confused. "…Is everything all right?" he inquires of the rider, as he's never known a dragon to speak to someone that isn't his or her rider.

Izzuth rumbles again, turning to look at If'an with one whirling eye. "Huh…" The rider shrugs and steps past the dragon's head, looking as dignified as possible wearing just a pair of shorts and a towel with his hair dripping down his face, "Izzuth says ya should stay here at Xanadu an' stand f'r th' clutch on th' sands."

There's something about 'hey, you should stand for a clutch' that has a dignifying effect on the person saying it, whether they're wearing a full formal suit or clad only in shorts and a towel. Thus Garawan doesn't laugh at the picture If'an makes. He does respond, though. "Oh, er… really?" He seems more confused himself. He'd stood at Eastern and hadn't Impressed. But then, a variety of candidates is needed, just in case. Garawan may not understand why, but he knows it's necessary. Looking to Izzuth, "…Are you certain?"

The big brown huffs and draws himself up, looking rather dignified, himself, and bobs his head once, mimicing a nod. Yes, he's sure! He doesn't make mistakes like that. Not like some other dragons… "Oh get o'er yurself…" If'an rolls his eyes and mutters softly to Izzuth and nods, "Yar… He's sure." The big man half leans on the brown, "Long's ya think ya c'n follow th' rules, anyway." He pauses for a moment, but not long enough for a response, "Gotta be r'spectful, don't get drunk, don't get nobody pregnant, don't leave th' Weyr without a rider, an' no fightin'."

Garawan chuckles slightly at Izzuth's drawing himself up. And a dragon-nod, too! "Merely wishing to confirm your wishes, my good sir," he notes to the brown. This whole thing is kind of amusing, especially If'an's chiding of his lifemate to stop being so vain. If'an speaks to him, and the trader listens. He draws breath to speak, but the rules come after that. He listens anyway, and he nods. "I stood at Eastern once," he notes. "Are the rules generally the same between Weyrs?" he inquires.

If'an nods and shrugs a shoulder, "I only stood once, m'self, here at Xanadu." Izzuth found him his first time on the sands. The dragon gets an affectionate pat, the rider's fingers digging into the hide in a quick, rough scratch that the brown apparently loves, "I don't know nothin' 'bout other Weyrs rules." He shrugs again, "I'd 'magine there ain't much difference, though." He pushes off of the brown and takes a couple of steps closer to the traider, only to stop and glare up at his lifemate, again, "No, he don't gotta help oil ya! I a'ready told ya: Just 'cause ya find 'em don't mean they's yurs." The brown grumbles and flops dangerously close to his rider, but the blond man doesn't even flinch, apparently used to the trick.

"Ah, I see," Garawan replies. Though he pauses again at the statement from If'an to the brown, chuckling quietly. "Well, I have no qualms about helping out," the trader offers mildly. Not just because of the obvious. But, "It would be practice, should I actually Impress." His tone states he doesn't find it likely, but nonetheless, he does seem to be willing to prepare for the unlikely.

If'an chuckles and shakes his head, "This big beast is greedy…" And thinks that anyone he Searches belongs to him, apparently… He gives the dragon another affectionate pat and shakes his head, "I c'n finish him up once I show ya whar t' go." Obviously, the rider has no intention of spoiling his dragon and letting him lay claim to every new candidate he finds!

Garawan seems perfectly fine with the refusal, and nods. "All right," he agrees. "Shall we?" He moves out of the way, so that If'an can go towards the Weyr if he wishes. "However, I can wait if you would prefer to finish up first," he offers mildly. He's very accomodating about it all. And pretty calm, too.

If'an chuckles and shakes his head, looking up at the dragon for a moment, "Nah… Might's well get ya settled, first. Izzuth'll stay'n make sure nothin' hap'ns t' th' oil, 'r nothin'." He gives the big brown another affectionate pat and starts heading in the direction of the meadow, "C'mon, Garawan. Le's get ya th' right knot."

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