Nowhere, and Back Again (backscene!)

Xanadu Weyr - Meadow
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of weyrs, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves. The meadow continues with gentle rolls and dips, grass tall and short waving in the slightest of breezes, and eventually those hills grow higher and steeper, ending in a large ridge that provides a fine view of that meadow and the rest of the Weyr, gazing out over the multicolored roofs of the houses and the cliff that holds the caverns.
Runner stables with the paddock beyond are to the south beyond the meadow weyrs, and a smithy and a woodcraft shop are settled closer in towards the path to the clearing. Trees border the northern side of the meadow, and more of those low, rolling hills can be seen to the northwest. A road passes through the meadow, coming from the east and used by traders and crafters alike. Wagons laden with felled trees from the forests or ore from the mountains are hauled by burden beast up the road through the meadow, over the bridge spanning the river to be processed in the appropriate workshops.


Fire up the RP time machine! This is a back-scene by a RL month or so, to when the weyrling dragons took their first trip between!


Summer has nearly flown, and young dragons have done far more than that! The weyrlings have been stretching their wings for a couple months now, even visiting some of the nearby holds that can be reached by an hour or two of direct flight. Which is, in and of itself, already a great leap of freedom for creatures once confined to the barracks and training yard - and before that, to the inside of eggshells! - but there's still a further yet to travel. (Isn't there always?) D'lei is out in the meadow with Garouth, having a talk with one of the Comet wingseconds while he checks the bronze's straps, and the bronze's thoughts come to weyrling blues with the tumble of red-gold leaves early-fallen from their trees. « I see a journey ahead of me. Come, if you wish. »

From down by the lakeshore, a muddy-pawed Euclath comes bounding, answering the call of Adventure by abandoning the self-imposed Quest he was on. He will need to discover the secrets of why some things float and others sink another day! The adventures of Garouth are always of the exciting sort, and they merit his attention immediately. Still, no Meion appears in his wake, the smaller blue strapless and riderless as he comes up alongside Garouth with his tangled skein of curiosity. « Where are we going? »

A shadow passes. A shadow makes SEVERAL passes with a more Spring-like feel than the summer nearly ending, all manner of ethereal fluff brought through by breeze. Though they have not ranged far, yet, Ceruadharth (or is it C'iel?) uses every flimsiest excuse to get airbore. Such things leave evenings a little weary and worn for both, but no less cheerful for it. They come to with a *thump-thump-thump* landing and a quick eye shows that at least they're getting… better at straps and the blue's rider hasn't gone mad with daredevil tendencies. The meadow is a good place for a swoop, and a couple gentle drafts to coax the landing before settling beside. Both eager, both willing, both wondering, «What are we doing?» In paired query with Euclath. Euclath often takes the best questions, but that is alright. He can ask the follow-ups.

D'lei glances up as blue-without-rider and blue-with-rider arrive in quick succession, with a wave - a glance to Garouth - a grin - and then a return to his current conversation. « Where the sea tucks in to the shore, between jungle and rock. » It's a picture more than words, of an ocean and island unfamiliar not just in their specifics but unlike the entire climate glimpsed from Xanadu's skies. « The destination, so that D'lei may meet with one there. » In his mind, squirrels run to the same tree and chatter. « The journey, that you learn the way. » There's a sense of flowing water, streams that both make their own journeys and act as landmarks to guide travelers. « You will want your Meion, to help remember the way. » A moment, and then a rumble of amusement. « And so she is not disappointed to miss it. »

Meion comes up from the weyr-buildings, with a bag that holds a tangle of straps slung over her shoulder, and a large cup of klah in hand. "Did I forget to note some sort of class today?" Euclath is reassuring her before any of the humans can manage, bubbling over with excitement before the question is fully spoken. « Garouth called us. We're going to go traveling! » The way Euclath puts it, Meion is quite sure that the call was optional as made by Garouth, and anything but as passed from Euclath to her.

C'iel shakes his head a little and waves down at Meion, pulling his goggles up for a moment. "This feels more like an impromptu life lesson. Which we should get used to, I suppose.." He laughs and leans down on the dragon's neck, while Ceru tilts his head and peers over. «Curious. And curiosities to be settled. This one is wondering how soon we will be needing to teach ourselves…»

« Are you not already? » Garouth asks Ceruadharth with a breeze that captures a leaf that turns - as it tumbles through the air - to a dragon in flight, a fleeing beast, a ship sailing the water. « If you do not teach yourselves, you will only learn what others wish you to know. » D'lei exchanges a few more words with the wingsecond, then looks up again and grins as he gives the weyrlings (times two, now!) another wave. "Figured since you two are doing so well with flying, I'd invite you along on my trip to Half Moon." His tone is casual. It's nothing big, just… a trip to another continent, halfway across the world from here! A quick jaunt… at least, for dragonriders.

Meion is already applying straps to by the time she replies. "Definitely. Definitely coming along. I've never been." « That's a long way from here. » Euclath's image of the distance is one thread, tugged from its cloth and unraveled to halfway across the sheet of fabric, and for a moment he's nervous to make the flight. « We're going to go between, aren't we? » That thread bunches up the fabric instead, as he thinks about just what that will mean.

"There has just been a lot of…" C'iel trails off into contemplation, before nodding. «It is hard not to learn, if you're paying attention,» Ceruadharth follows, and rolls a larger shoulder back. Settles wings once or twice. There is a bit of unease to the other blue and rider pair, despite curiosity and excitement. "Well. We're passing through, more than going," C'iel admits. "In theory it is wonderful, world-opening, in experience… well, it's a bitter medicine of sorts, isn't it." Halfway across the world isn't as far as OFFworld at least.

« It is indeed wise to pay attention. » Otherwise, you might not learn all those things! Garouth's tone is an approving one, though. D'lei grins as he steps back to check his dragon's straps. "In this case, the good part's the destination, not the journey. Or, well, having more options of destination, as it were." He shrugs, and there's a slight rumble from Garouth. « We will go between. » The image he shares is… nothing, but it's a very certain nothing-ness; cold that doesn't know what heat is, dark without light with which to distinguish it. « We leap from here - » a rabbit, jumping with powerful legs in a direction that is neither up nor down nore sideways but somehow orthogonal to all of those « - to there. »

The prospect of there gets long consideration from Euclath, and it's enough to get Meion to reach out a hand, resting it reassuringly on his side between fastening straps. "D'lei and Garouth wouldn't take us if they weren't sure you're ready. C'mon - there's a bunch to learn out there and this is the next step in getting out to learn all of it. If you can't do this, we certainly can't go visit the Yokohama!" Something about that motivation carries substantial weight with the small blue, his head lifting noticably, thoughts springing taut as he sees where this step falls on his journey. « We'll have to learn this, then! » To Ceruadharth, seeking reassurance: « We'll stay together? »

Ceruadharth is imminently distracted by bunnies. There might be some lurking in his own mindforest, but they're rare to his attention. Rabbit, rabbit… C'iel rubs at the back of his neck. "I need to make a point of bringing my notebook. Next time!" A lament, a sigh, and then an excited salute. Ceruadharth finds a pair of fluff bunnies for Euclath's assurance. «Here, there, and back again,» he assures his sibling, and moves closer to get the point across.

Garouth observes hopping bunnies, attentive but unconcerned. There's agreement, of course, but it's the passive sort that is a smiling face and a solid presence. "Next time, the notebook - the time after that, the computer?" D'lei asks C'iel, then grins to Meion as the more-probable one to actually do that. Though… "You're not going to be doing it alone for a while yet." Which is probably also reassuring, in its way. "And we'll do a smaller hop first, just to make sure you've got it down." He hehs. "Not that it makes a difference, exactly? The distance, that is. But… it feels different, and so it is. Kinda." Because humans, with their concepts of space and time as being solid, linear things with consistent layouts… and dragons, with their minds intermingled.

Euclath sits with reassurances and concerns both flitting through his mind as Meion prepares him for flight. She goes over everything twice, getting ready for flight as she answers D'lei. "You'd need one of the portables, and those are still uncommon enough that not just anyone has one." Of course, that's a far cry from saying it's ridiculous to take a computer on dragonback. "Although, if you did that, maybe you could take some measurements when you're between…" And there's Meion, Having Ideas. Maybe even useful ones, if the logistical side of them can be worked out - but probably not. "Where are we doing the hop to, anyhow?"

Ceruadharth hunches down a little bit. «This sort of thing… I think it helps to have company, yes.» There is a shift in the Dandelion breeze, brief and shimmering that turns towards a thought of destinations new. "Would they even function Between?" He wonders of Meion. "Goodness knows I don't. Maybe they can handle it…" That'd be something. C'iel gets a little lost in sciencey thoughts, bits and bobs while the Blue looks to Garouth (and D'lei) with renewed curiosity.

D'lei grins a bit wider as he nods to Meion, though… that is a distraction that he will not actually be chasing down today! Nor will she, presumably. As for that hop (the one before the skip and jump)… "Not far at all. Just from one side of the Weyr to the other, pretty much." Hardly exciting at all! …except for that bit about going through nowhere-in-particular in order to do it. "It's the easiest jump you can make, but that doesn't have anything to do with the distance - it's the fact that you know this place. You've been here… well, your entire lives, for at least half of you." That'd be the dragon half! "If you can image anywhere, it's going to be here." And, clearly, he believes they can image an anywhere, or he wouldn't have invited them! D'lei puts his hand on Garouth's straps, ready to get on, then pauses. "Any other questions before takeoff?"

Questions? Meion is absolutely overflowing with them, but. "Nope. I'm ready to try it." She's been Between before. She's been on dragonback dozens of times before she even became a rider herself. There's nothing to worry about, and as soon as her stomach can remember that, she can stop the churning feeling that something terrifying will happen. Instead, she throws herself into making sure that this is a textbook-perfect launch - at least, from her side, as far as checklists and straps are concerned.

"Three-quarters," C'iel admits with a murmur. Admits? "I mean, born and raised! Been here long enough ~I~ could probably Between, if I tried hard enough. So this'll be a piece of cake for you two!" Ceruadharth mirrors that overflowing confidence come to stem the clenching cold. «We will have plenty after,» The Blue muses.

D'lei hehs, and nods to Meion, then C'iel. "By your powers combined!" A grin, and he swings onto his bronze's back. It's only a few moments to strap himself in and pull on helmet and gloves, and then Garouth flicks his wings, crouches back… and leaps up to the sky, taking himself to a moderate altitude where he spreads sails to drift… and await, here where Xanadu spreads out like a model-table map brought to color and life.

Meion gives straps a final thrice-over until she's running out of ways to procrastinate. Euclath leaps airborne, circling upward to trail the grand bronze and wait for instructions. "Here we go," she says, quiet enough that only Euclath can hear - but then again, only Euclath really needs to, doesn't he?

Ceruadharth menaces some low-lying plants with mini gales as he takes off, joining sibling and sire in preparation. He might not hear the whisper, but both stay decidedly close. We go together, indeed! By foot, by air, and now by.. teleportation.

Shadows shift out, to curl around the two blues as they join Garouth - and encompass, with a swirl of outline, the view below. « Take this place, this image. Hold it in your minds, and in the minds of those who ride you. Picture it, until you know it, both of you, and recognize it in the other. » Here's the other purpose for those exercises in focus that were taught way back when baby dragons and riders needed to develop their bonds… as well as lessons on observational skills that followed. « Take what time you need, but when you are ready… follow me. » The bronze eases forward, an economical motion that carries him out across the water where the waiting thermals let him glide and wait. D'lei brushes fingers against one of the bronze's ridges, with a half-smile that's… well, conveniently enough, nobody but Garouth's going to see the concern of what if these seemingly-ready weyrlings… aren't, actually. They should be. They seem to be. …they'd better be.

Meion stares down at the view below. The funny thing about memory is that it works both ways - like this, she can remember this same view from a green's back, as she arrived at Xanadu in what seems like a different lifetime. But that memory isn't the place to jump to - it wouldn't work - or worse, court paradox - so she looks down, fixing on all the details of geography and structure that make Xanadu unique. From up here, she can appreciate how well the weyr works as landmark, buildings in their distinctive places. And when she's got it held tight in her mind, she sees it through Euclath's - a patchwork of paths where the people and animals and dragons each travel on their daily business, each place with its color and its location and its purpose, all fit together into the great big fabric of space and time and meaning. Once she sees that, holds onto it with Euclath - she doesn't need to tell him to fly out to meet Garouth. He just does, because he knows they're ready, too.

Memories of Xanadu are vivid for Ceru's rider, old from ground, new from air. Perhaps, unlike hunting, there isn't a complex amount of nuance and learning that needs to be done. Hold one place. Hold another. Fold, and place yourself on the other. C'iel holds his breath without realizing, and perhaps Ceru does too in those moments leading up to it. This home, this warren of men and women and dragons, and family where they should, by all virtue, be able to *Pop* about like bunnies. It's Theirs. One hopes they are ready, because the move with Euclath and Meion do.

Here they are, joining the bronze in the skies over the water, and Garouth expands his mind to theirs, shares a sense that's not sight or sound or touch but is the kinesthetic model of a set of organs and muscles that humans just don't have. « Hold that in your mind… and go. » He's a half-step ahead, demonstrating the conceptualization and the way it becomes everything and that shifts him through nothing - and then he's gone, two, silence and cold, three, absence and - presence, again, back over that central perspective as if he'd never left because he's just returned, waiting with a stillness of body and a vigilance of mind that's taut, waiting, hoping (believing) that these two will join him again just a half-step behind.

Meion is about to ask whether it's possible, whether they're ready, whether - when Euclath cuts off all doubt by going, flexing an ability in a direction that Garouth just showed him. There's the half-familiar cold of between around them both, a moment longer than Meion thinks it should last. Euclath's mind presses to hers, demanding and insistent. « FOCUS. » He's holding that image of their destination, but it's more than he can do alone, and the sharp poke of Euclath's voice pushes her to bring it back into clarity. She has a job to do here too, and she adds her details to his, working to bring the image of the weyr back into clarity.

Bwip. Bwip. Ceruadharth feels the shape of Garouth, all that here and there and being that they share. Senses that can be felt, muscles that can squeeze that their riders have not. All the warmth of confidence and kindled mines are still set frigid as they take the third hop in between, being the last in. Ceru knows it from cold, C'iel knows it from the hops he's taken before… yet there's a new chill to it, doing it on your own for the first time. Alone, but… not quite alone. There is as much comfort as worry in feeling the other Blue there, so thickly gauzed behind everything that… isn't. «Not on them. On there.» Ceruadharth directs, and their sole focus shifts on realizing that Other-place.

Here. There. There, that it becomes here. Make it, believe it, manifest it. The trip is trivial, for Garouth; but he knows what he's doing, has done it enough times before that the trip itself blurs into the same familiarity as the place. Here. There. Here. D'lei has enough time for a check of his straps, a fidget as he waits, as Garouth's shadows wait for an emergence from darkness into light, and warmth, and… being. Blue sky is here, for two dragons blue!

As the time between extends, Meion can feel panic rising. Whether it's hers or Euclath's is neither knowable nor relevant, and she struggles to hold that image in her mind through the rising fear. "We need to go back." She's not sure if she actually uses her mouth to say it to Euclath, here, but it's not as if she needs to. « I'm not sure… do we have the image? Can we make it there? » That fear is keeping Euclath in place, unwilling to make the leap forward back to the known, trapped here in this freezing black no-place.

If only he could reach you. Ceruadharth's will hesitates, if just on a sixth sense that something is wrong. He pushes out US as far as he can into the void and it is just… void. Bundled as C'iel is, too, the cold eats and nips and he clutches tighter. "Lead us home, please." A moment. Ceru must protect his rider above all else. A second… those blue skies and sea and green below. And third… like the feeling of your ears popping, on a whole-body-scale, before the larger blue FINALLY materializes, a bit high. They look around quickly, sweeping for the others.

Dragons have been lost between, before. Dragons will be lost between, again. But then, between isn't exactly a place where times like before and again have meaning, is it? It's nowhere, nowhen, nothing; it simply is(n't), and so… Garouth waits, his shadows reached back but without presence against the utter darkness of between. D'lei waits, sitting on his back, even less capable of reaching to a place where he - as a human - cannot go unaided. There's nothing in between, except… that's not quite true, is it? Other dragons have passed this way, their life-threads stretching through without interruption despite being hidden - tucked out of sight, like the underside of fabric in a well-stitched pattern. Perhaps it's the profusion of possibilities that makes between a trap, so many directions to go and threads to follow that it's important - crucial - to keep one, just one, fixed in mind and held in thoughts so that dragon and rider may emerge once, there, instead of scattering to their atoms everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Here, here - Ceruadharth is here, and D'lei jerks his head up, a half-moment's relief and then a bite of his lip as his head turns to see… nothing, still; nothing from Euclath, even as his brother's arrival provides a something to contrast it. Garouth cannot reach to between, yet he will not do nothing; so he does something. He borrows Leirith's light, the sunbright joy and throbbing beat that bursts through silence. He draws on Ceruadharth's sky-clad caring, so close and yet so different from his brother blue. Garouth plaits their minds together with his shadows, dark over light over blue over and over, and he casts out a line to where he cannot see, cannot feel, cannot know and yet where he reaches with a hope made of feathers and candyfloss and lupine howl…

Can a life-line reach between? Is the link between minds capable of bridging between a place and no-place? Who can say? What can be said is that leaves blow some distance on the ground and birds make their way across an arc of sky in the long moment before Euclath pops into being, exactly where he was when he and Meion set to memorizing the place. Meion is clinging to his back, and his mind-voice shouts relief more completely than any words could convey. He feels Garouth and Ceruadharth without needing to look, and wheels in the sky toward them.

'Together,' they promised, but there really isn't much of a together Between, is there? Not more than this. But bittersweet broken promises are something to wallow over later, when that sudden victory comes to be. The clouds of his thoughts and skylines a horizon that… maybe carried with Garouth, or maybe just satisfying the need for effort. Success, the victory of living, and doing, and relief and elation as Ceruadharth and C'iel singlemindedly go to meet them and welcome them back into being. Thankfully not with full body tackles. That'll wait until ground.

Hopes? Prayers? Determination? Will? It's all there, though the relative efficacies in bringing Euclath back are uncertain. Even so, this isn't a place where experimentation is to be encouraged - even one failure is far more than statistically significant. He could be gone - was gone, but he could have stayed that way - but then he is. He isn't gone, he is here, and D'lei sags with relief against a Garouth whose mind does similarly. The tautened strain of shadows made to tools loosens, frays into a twilight fog that spreads across the forest to make a sea of mist and shadow that all but covers trees and blankets the world in a silence whose completeness is far less than that which was (is) between.

Euclath can sense all the concern, the strained waiting for them to come back, even if he was only gone a few extra-long seconds more than he needed to be. But he was lost, and alone, and in a dangerous place. « I was… uncertain for a moment. I'm sorry I worried you! » And he's slowly circling in the sky, waiting to see if this means he'll be sent back to remedial dragoning school, or told he is Not To Travel Between, or worse, while Meion appreciates the relative warmth of the cold air at this altitude.

Can Ceru project what a C'iel hug feels like? Well, maybe the base emotion to Meion. Then it is all circle, circle, flitter and uncontrollable elation. «For now, let us put aside all worries and thoughts except to say… we did it!» That requires lauding, yes. Ceruadharth glances between Blue and Bronze and even checks to 'feel' if his Rider is secure thereyep, check before finally stabilizing. «Is it ever… harder? Easier?» Please say easier.

Only a few seconds, only twice as long as he should have been. Same difference! D'lei takes in a deep breath, drawing Garouth's mist into his lungs, and exhales it to a wind that blows that fog away, decoheres it into water-droplets that glisten silver on the trees when starlight shines amid the shadows. « What have you learned? » he asks Euclath, not with challenge or scolding but only… the question, because he needs to know. What did the blue discover, amid that uncertainty? Did he learn the way - does he know it now? Will it, in short, be easier for him from now, or will uncertainty, fear, the fumbling in the dark build up a terror that will make it harder, make Euclath a dragon who does Not Travel Between. Or (worse), will be lost again, for longer - even longer - forever. So. Garouth needs to know, because his worries and thoughts are not put aside merely by success-once, success-this-time. He needs to know if - it being done - it can be done again.

The Question - paternal, teacherlike, patient, and still endlessly terrifying. What did he learn? « That being afraid I couldn't do it made it impossible. » A pause, as he gathers thoughts, and then an added - « And that I can. That we can. »

Ceruadharth and C'iel hang in quiet contemplation for this. «… there are more things that can make you hesitate…» He admits. «But you only need to push through that long enough to make it to the other side…» Which means, yes, chronic worriers, you too can Between! Maybe even make it a healthy meditative exercise? Well, that might be a bit much. The pair does not need to belabor the point through any more grand gestures. They worried, and are glad to have you back.

Garouth waits, listens. The terror is real, and beyond him; he only acknowledges it. So. « You can. » Euclath said it first, and so it is true; Garouth could not make it so, any more then he made that terror - but, it being so, he can acknowledge it. He's silent for a moment, as if he might end it there… but shadows shift, and his voice softens. « You image your own destiny as surely as you do your destination. Do not forget your strength, lest it desert you. » Shadows curl, an echo of wings in their motion and a shiver of storm-front chill. « If you cannot… » Through uncertainty, through hesitation, through worry and fear… « Remember each other. Know that you are believed in, and remember that strength until you find your own. » Shadow-wings extend in conceptual space to curl around each of the blues, Euclath and Ceruadharth both held - and held together.

The idea of a hug wraps around Euclath and Ceruadharth, and it's perhaps more effective than the logistics of the actuality would permit. Euclath nods all seriously. « If I don't trust myself, I'll trust you trusting me. » There's only a moment's fleeting sense that he's about to ask forgiveness rather than permission, a moment's silent synchrony between dragon and rider - and then he's gone again, disappeared between without asking.

Ceruadharth listens, and though it is spoken for Euclath first, he feels the meaning of the words all the same. Basking in the comfort of the wing-hold for a moment that they blink and then Euclath *blinks.* For a moment there is worry, and then mischief, and then guilt. «… it will be good for their confidence, I think.» Though he is noticably not voiping again himself.

It's important to learn from the mistakes and lessons of others, because nobody could hope to survive learning entirely from their own mistakes. Even if they managed to make it out of all of those dangerous situations, they'd die of old age before they got through them all! Garouth acknowledges, and then … he waits again, with a tension beneath the stillness of his mind that has been there since the first parent and first child. He believes in Euclath; believes in him with the heat of starry cores and dark of cosmic dust… yet he also knows uncertainty, knows that the best possible future is not always the one that comes to pass… and yet he must believe in it, just as he must acknowledge his present and remember his past. (Insofar as dragons do, of course, but Garouth-D'lei-Garouth knows what he knows, and does what he does, and right now… he waits.) « They know the way. » Because Garouth believes, even if it is not his belief that will make Euclath and Meion manifest.

The 'pop' as Euclath and Meion return is both prompt and distant, as they snap into being back over the water, in the place where they departed from on that first terrifying journey into the unknown. Euclath spreads wings and soars back in triumph, having surmounted the terror of doing the impossible. Later, he can consider that it's an impossible that dragons do hundreds of times a day, all over Pern, and even the little fire lizards manage. Today, he has gone into the abyss and returned with only the power of his will, and his confidence could take no better bolster than that.

No rush to practice any more at the moment, unless indicated otherwise. Ceruadharth rumbles a note of pleasure at the ~much~ smoother trip when the pair re-emerge, and he does a little glide. «Easier,» He says, self-assuredly. There are times when foolish confidence might lead one astray, and others… it might be a salve to prevent the worst. «Do you think we are ready for another place?» He wonders. Not because he's worried about delaying them from their dealings, no..

« Welcome back. » It is a demonstration of Garouth self-control that there is only a moment's delay before that greeting to Euclath, only a hint of disturbed soil and weathered bone beneath the starlight to reveal his concern beneath the rustle of leaves that stir with a wind that casts dewdrops up to sparkle in the sky. He is pleased, because that is his will, and Euclath has made it be. It's easier! Because he thinks it so, and so does Ceruadharth. Time to pop across the globe! « I believe in you, » he answers Ceruadharth. « You know if you are tired, or if you are ready for another. » Which is a confidence-bolster, in part, but even more it's a statement of fact; unlike wings whose tiredness can be seen by a skilled glance, to test the fatigue of minds takes an inspection more intrusive than Garouth would do without cause. (Besides: if any dragons is likely to err on the side of caution… it's probably Ceruadharth.)

Euclath flies close, with Meion sitting triumphant on his back as they re-approach the pair. « We're coming too. » It's a statement of fact, but there's a slight uncertainty about it - like if they ask whether they're coming, they might be denied, and they're going to force D'lei and Garouth to be more active in denying them this chance, should they really want to do that.

Ceruadharth would indeed often err on caution. This particular caution is one that relies less on their own stamina, and more on his kin's state. And that state is… enthusiastic. C'iel closes his eyes and laughs, making a mental note—one that gets a slight, mute nod from Ceruadharth. Meion is sensible. She will know when to embrace that enthusiasm and when to push back. «It looks like we're going,» Ceru muses. Sure, his WINGS are a little sore, but those other parts aren't worn out yet!

« Then I will show you the way. » Winds blow, stirring the leaves until branches move and shift, the world changing into a different place. The ocean, a brighter and more tropical blue, with storms and calm in turn. The jungle, a profusion of life in varied forms. The dark volcanic rocks, the flattened oval of an extinct caldera and the shore beyond it where docks reach out. Half Moon Weyr, in a world as living as the one beneath their wings yet caught in a series of moments, overlaid upon each other in seasons of monsoon and dry spell, morning and night. The aspects that define it are those always-present; the rest, the possibility-space of Half Moon Weyr and its Bay, the things that could be when they arrive where it is. Garouth shares the image, from mind to draconic mind; the where, this time, instead of the how.

The moment that Euclath has that image, he shares it with Meion. There's hardly a heartbeat before both rider and dragon disappear, and together just a momentary focus in the cold of between before they reappear in foreign skies. Euclath sweeps a wide circle, watching the sky for the others to make sure he really did find the right place.

Both C'iel and Ceruadharth invest this place in intense curiosity, which may help, at least in the former's case hold it with crystal clarity. For now, a wonder and an imagining of self will be the first thread of being. Don't dwell long on the philosophy, not yet. There is still a patient pause before they flick and hopefully, ideally join up with Euclath.

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Sky over the Weyr
The view just above the rim of this massive basin is breathtaking as the islands take shape far below you, reaching up out of a gleaming sea of blue. Away in the west, the vast expanse of ocean continues past the horizon, to spill over its edge into eternity. A plateau on the east side of the rim makes for an advantageous lookout point, a watchdragon and rider pass the time there while on sentry duty by a large aerial antena. Gusts of unstable winds falter against the undersides of wingsails that pass you by. Half Moon Bay's bowl seems, from here, nothing more than a mere child's toy. Tiny weyrfolk, playing out the dramas of their daily and nightly lives, are no more than miniature featureless dolls come to life from the vivid imagination of a woolgathering youth.

Gone, gone - gone, Garouth too vanishing into nothing and then arriving to something that is different, not just by a dozen wingbeats of flight through familiar air but where the air holds a new feeling, a different shape. It's more hot, wetter, the smells are different, and… « We are here! » It's part for the blues, part the message he gives to the watchdragon down on the bowl's edge, sent along with a sense of who he is, who comes with him. He does not belong here, but he does not come like a thief in the night: he is a guest, and he knows it, so they should know it too. And since they're hardly going to challenge him, he follows it with a dip of his wings, angling down toward the bowl to find a suitable landing-spot… though not in any great rush, because there's a whole new Weyr to see from here.

Euclath circles down, bobbing wings and sending his own deferent-but-friendly « Hello! » to the watch-dragon as well, following Garouth down in a slow spiral. He makes his descent gradually, as both he and Meion keep trying to take in all the different sights that exist to be seen.

Ceruadharth announces himself, an unseen bown of his head. «Greetings, and good day…» There were formalities to this! Suddenly showing up in someone's home, even if you WERE invited. And propriety, and announcements… both he and his brother were—well, they're family. So that is fine, right? Yes. The pair hesitate a while in the big blue before quickly descending to make up the distance.

There - a spot, clear enough to land, and Garouth takes it. His wings fold as talons touch, moving swiftly aside to leave space for the blues to do the same as D'lei removes his gear and stows it, then swings down to tug off straps before looking back to Meion and C'iel. "I'll be a while. An hour or so… probably." A grin. Just how long are they going to be stranded here? "Take a look around, meet some people, have yourselves some fun." Okay, maybe not the most terrible of strandings. « I will be here. » Because of course he will, though Garouth's water-splashes and jungle-roams may or may not be anywhere near the blues actually are. "…oh." D'lei pauses, looking back to Meion and Euclath. "Careful on the jumping around without asking first." He doesn't sound mad, even before the grin. "I'd rather not have to replace a weyrlingmaster when they have a heart attack." And then, boring meetings! (For D'lei.) And fun in the sun! (For everyone else.)


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