Anatomy Lessons

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrling Beach

With a gentler slope to the water from the main beach and the way it is cut in like a cove, this is the most sheltered spot for bathing. The sand is the same white hue, there are just as many — or perhaps more — scattered shells. From here, one has a beautiful view across the lake, a scene more often tranquil than not.

It's winter in Xanadu, which means the snow that was here is not gone and the rain that had been falling is not gone too. However, it's left the weyrling beach packed down and fairly easy to navigate. It's late afternoon when the sun has passed it's zenith, but there is plenty of light still left. Keziah has called the weyrling that aren't currently busy placating their dragon or mucking out their couch out to the beach. Along the way she's snagged a few interested weyrfold as well. Alosynth is sitting nearby, watching for the weyrlings to come on down. <re>

Kevkah is not an interested weyrfolk. No, he's more like the one who got caught up in the crowd that goes along, half asleep as he is. Apparently, it's the end result of stopping late to grab something to eat /and/ chat with a few people. Indeed, the apprentice still has half a cold sandwich in hand, despite the fact that he's sunk into a place to sit, leaning heavily on /another/ person's leg. Let /them/ be interested. He's totally here for a nap. Though a little kick to his side has the boy at least jerking upright again, eyes flying wide..for just a moment. They're quick to droop again however, tiredly taking a bite of the remaining sandwich.

P'rel and Malphath arrive, taking their time as they head out of the barracks and down towards where Alosynth and Keziah are waiting. They line up with the others, coming to a stop. The blond bronzerider is at attention, while his lifemate comes to sit beside him, proud and tall.

With the call to the beach, Briana got cleaned up from dolling out meat for Sahazyth and bundled up against the cold weather. Sahazyth is still munching on her last bit of meat as she moves alongside her lifemate out to the beach. Her tail leaving a trail in the snow as she lets it drag along behind her. The teen and her dragon have settled into the patterns of weyrling life. There are some changes in Briana that might be noticed as well, a bit more confidence to her bearing. The worries of before washed away with impression and her lifemates assurances. As they arrive at the beach, Briana and Sahazyth move into the growing line of wearlings. The teen moving under the protection of a wing against the cold wind.

Late, but fashionably so, with a less than amused bronze dragon in tow is Qe'pol. Okay, even fashionably is reaching. The lad is decked out in an overly fluffy jacket, hiding his face as best he can in the lapels of the covering. "Brrrr!" Is all the weyrling states, moving slowly. "Hate this weather, hate it." Grumble, grumble. "Give me some warmed up alcoholic cider an' a lady or two in a nice warm bed over whatever we're doin' out here." Unhappy is the bronzerider's middle name. Nisuanekhdjieth seems to be of much the same opinion, the dragon's lack of fat making the cold that much more unbearable. Even with his belly overfilled with food, the biting wind has a way of making the beast even more surly than normal. Moving over towards his BFFs, Pol attempts to cling to Py. "Warm me, you manly man you." Arms are thrown over the other bronzerider and the taller of the two weyrlings shivers. "Seriously, dude. I'm freezin' my balls off over here. I think they've retreated back. Y'know. /BACK/!" Whine, whine. Nisuanekhdjieth, not a cuddly, loving dragon at all, has the self-preservation instincts to lean up against his rider, gleaning heat off of the lad.

Keziah waits for the majority to settle in. Those who are late, are late. "Welcome to 'Dragon Anatomy' We'll start out with the most basic. The outside as you are all familiar with is the hide. As you've noticed you've had to oil it and oil it and oil it. Now, which of you can tell me why." She stops mid-sentence and eyes "Qe'pol." Even Alosynth eyes are on the weyrling. "Qe'pol!!! You remove yourself from P'rel now or you will be cleaning the midden heap with a spoon. You will /not/ of alchohol and you will not have a warm body to rub against. If you try me, you will find that I can be a very upset instructor. Now. If you're done interrupting and wasting our time, I'll make sure you have balls left to be sucked up into that scrawny body of yours." She snorts "Now, who can tell me why we need to keep the oil hided?" She stops blinks and then takes a breath "I mean the hide oiled."

The watchers remain! Even if Kevkah isn't doing a whole lot of watching. There's a vaguely disturbed look given to his sandwich though, fingers poking at it…and brushing something from the edge. He even gives it a bit of a sniff before finally taking another bite, shovelling all that remains into his gaping wide maw. Cheeks bulge as he continues to chew, wearily watching as dragons and persons line up, shiver, and drape. He himself doesn't seem too terribly bothered by the chill, though freed hands get tucked into his pockets readily enough.

It's not long after Pol arrives that I'srie can be seen heading down the beach with his lifemate, Tscyleth walking practically at his shoulder, the young blue occasionally brushing flank to arm with the boy, canting his head to observe this or that thing as they pass, but his steps are careful, none of the clumsiness of youth in this midnight-hued blue. Iess is once again in dark colors, trimmed with silvery greys, hands shoved deep into jacket pockets. He straightens a little as he moves to fall into line beside P'rel, gaze narrowing quite abruptly at Qe'pol. One hand merely reaches for the back of Pol's jacket, grabbing at the collar. YANK. "Back off man, seriously," there might be a slight eye-tic just there. Absent salute is given to Keziah at the woman's going off at Pol, eyebrow arching for that, though Iess doesn't offer any reply to the woman's question.

P'rel was just minding his own business, being quiet and preparing for the lesson. Then Qe'pol had to come up to him and begins to cling to him. The smaller bronzerider stiffens immediately, and Malphath as well. Almost at the exact same time, the pair begin to growl, though the dragon half actually bares his teeth somewhat. "Get the sharded off me, Pol!" he snarls and sharply pushes the older boy off him, which is quickly followed by head to toe shudder of the unpleasant variety. "Ugh, now I'm going to have to bathe and scrub myself raw." Another shudder, and he takes a wide step off to one side, the side further from Nisu and Qe'pol. "What the shells is wrong with you." Full body willies aside, Py gives the other bronzer a once over head to toe with one of his infamous grrrfaces. Feathers thoroughly ruffled, both P'rel and Malphath both seem to have been set into a foul mood, the human of the bonded set wrapping his arms around himself and twitching now and then.

Briana leans up against the warmer hide of her lifemate as she watches the other weyrlings and the dragons gather. Sahazyth for her part lifts her head and gives a low warble of a draconic greeting to her gathering clutchsibs. Briana at least looks amused at the arrival of Qe'pol, though she tries to hide it behind a thick glove brought over her mouth. As the question is asked she looks back towards the instructor and raises her hand after a nudge from her lifemate. "Because they are growing so fast right now. Sorta like the firelizards, they get dry patches that could crack if not oiled up proper." Sahazyth looks over to the gathering group of Weyrfolk that have come to watch and tries to stand a little taller. Already she is nearly the size of a full size green. Her head extends a little towards Kevkah, looking over the lad curiously.

"Yeeeah, yeah. No alcohol, blahblahblah, I get it," Qe'pol grumps, eyes rolling to the cloudy sky and waving a hand at the assistant weyrlingmaster. Being respectable isn't in the cards today. "Tell me something I dun know already." Sigh. He removes himself from P'rel's person, but not without many overdramatic sighs and over the top full body shivers. "Weyrlinghood /blows/." He mutters more, right before being jerked AWAY from his heat source. "Noooooo! Sooo waaaaarm!" There would be tears, if someone as manly as Qe'pol could cry. He can't. Nope. "Off the new threads, guy. His jacket is re-puffed up, the edges of the top being brought up to cover a portion of his face once more. "Can I cling to you then, Iess? Seriously. It's cold." The bronzerider does take a few steps back towards Pyriel, giving a cheeky grin at his clutchsibling, even with his words. Then Iessrien's arm is grabbed and yoinked over, having each other male weyrling flanking him on his sides. It's a Pol sandwich going on, aaahhh yeeeeah. Now, NOW, he can pay attention to the lessons, assuming neither of his bro's move. "Uh… cause if not, our dragons bitch like little babies an' drive me shardin' insane?"

Keziah is silent, her face expressionless. At least there's no cheek-twitch like V'dim gets? "Yes, the hide cracks. Which is not only painful but it opens the dragon up for infection and if not taken care of can also be very dangerous, if not lethal when going between. The hide should be smooth and soft to the touch with a glossy look. If it's grey and chaulky then this is a sign of an unhealthy dragon." she notes. Alosynth rumbles deeply to Nisuanekhdjieth « Yours is a disgrace » Keziah looks over at Alosynth and gives a little headshake. "One of the good things about dragons is their bones. They're very strong and not prone to breaking. However, as the rider bones and dislocations can be quite likely."

Sadly for Pol, I'srie is totally moving to wedge himself between the two bronzers, slightly elbowing the other former holder if he has to. "Eff no," is muttered at his bud's request to cling to him instead, though not without a sharp sidelong /look/ at Qe'pol. It's not a glare, at least, but pondwater-blue eyes remain narrowed for a second. And then Iess is turning to pay attention to the lesson while Tscyleth settles a little behind him, the blue's jaw coming to rest for a moment on the boy's shoulder, faceted eyes whirling brightly, nearly matching the moonlight-touched hue upon his wings. "You have a dragon, man," eyes are rolled skyward, "He's probably warmer than us." Nope, Iess hadn't actually glanced over at scrawny, grumpy Nisu, but his mouth might twitch up at one corner, barely contained smirk threatening.

Kevkah finally does rub at his eyes a little. Maybe he's starting to wake up just a bit more. "Shoulda gotten klah.." There's an abrupt /tug/ to the pants on the leg he'd been leaning on, casting a look up at his fellow apprentice. There's a pleading look, eyes gone wide. "Hey, we should have klah. Did you know that? It's cold, isn't it? I mean..look at those guys, crawling all over each other for a little bit. You'll get some, won't you? Because then /you'd/ have some too." The other boy just looks..irritated, more than anything, but does eventually dart off. Triumphantly, Kev sits a bit straighter. Oh yes, he's definitely becoming a bit more aware. At least enough to make a face at the dragon staring at him.

P'rel seems to relax, tension melting from his shoulders once I'srie has put himself between himself and Qe'pol. Malphath, as well, considering the bronze sits himself back down this time beside Tscyleth behind his rider and stops looking like he was about to render the flesh from the other bronzerider's bones. This allows the former harper to give Keziah and the lesson more or less his full attention. As the woman speaks, the blond turns and looks to the darkly etched hide of the dragon behind him, as if checking for flaw or something to be concerned about. Malphath appears well fed, oiled and cared for. This appraisal met with apparent satisfaction, P'rel returns his attention to the assistant weyrlingmaster but offers no input from his side on anything said thus far.

Sahazyth watches the lad curiously and as the face is pulled at her, she withdraws her own head a little and gives a little tilt. There is a wuffle of warm air blown in his direction, that still holds the iron blood smell of her recent meal. Briana glances over to Kevkah and offers a half smile before looking back to her fellow weyrlings and the antics of trying to get warm. As Keziah speaks more on the effects of not oiling their dragons Briana looks up to Sahazyth, eyes unfocusing for a moment. The gold lowers her head to her lifemate, her own eyes whirling with contentment. «I have no itches at the moment little one, fear not.» Briana reaches up a hand to touch the gold's maw before turning her attention back to the lesson.

"You /suck/!" Qe'pol hisses out as he's wedged away from being the meat of the Pol sandwich, instead designated to the sad, lonely life as the bread. "I'd rather cling to another guy an' look a bit, y'know, fruity, than cling to my dragon, dude." So even though the weyrling is unable to throw his arms around Iessrien and steal his heat, he still stays fairly close, hunching in on himself. Nisuanekhdjieth, with rear on the ground, does much the same as his blue brother, head hovering over Qe'pol's shoulder, but not actually touching. The bronze dragonet turns his towards the green dragon, head tilting in such away. As be speaks, blackened silk seduces through the mind of those he bespeaks, dark scents tantalizing the senses as his words shimmer into being. « Yes, yes he is. » is all the bronze has to say for the moment, choosing instead to focus on the green's rider and the words she says. "You crackin' anywhere, Nisu?" « It's Nisuanekhdjieth, you dolt, Nisuanekhdjieth! » "Whatever. He's fine."

Keziah nods a little as things start to settle down a bit well that is except for Qeep. "Now another factor to watch for with the hide is when it does crack and is painful, or something tears it. What will you do then?" she asks as Alosynth shifts to one side and Keziah picks up a bucket with a large ladle in it. "I want you each to take a dollop and spread it on your dragon." For those who are clueless on what she's bringing around, it becomes quite obvious as she gets near them. Numbweed. "Make sure you don't leave it on your own skin too long, use the ladle. Let them experiance how it is, but reassure them as well that the feeling will come back."

Kevkah does wait right where he's been the whole time. And then, service! The other apprentice returns with two mugs, one promptly handed down to him. "/Thank/ you. You're very much the best, and I've always said that." Settling a bit more comfortably, he starts in on his wonderfully warm drink. There's even still steam! A happy little grin settles over his face though as the liquid lands in his belly, looking more alert by the minute.

Iess actually does smirk at Pol for a second, lashes lowering as he sends his fellow weyrling another sidelong look, but otherwise he manages to appear thoroughly comfortable being the oh so yummy blueie center of a bronzer sammich. Admittedly, he's drifting slightly closer to P'rel than Qe'pol, giving the other former holder a sort of dubious look, "Chill, man, your balls aren't freezing off /yet/." And if they are, Iessrien does NOT want to know about it. Like Py, as the lecture continues, I'srie glances back at his own lifemate, pondwater blues flicking appraisingly over the smooth, dark hide. Tscyleth is in fine condition for a weyrling dragon, meticulously clean and well-cared for.

P'rel can't help but shiver as a chilly gust whips past him, tightening his arms around himself as he expels a breath that forms as a white wisp that hangs in the air before him a few seconds and then dissipates. Golden eyes fix on the bucket that Keziah pulls out, then switch to the ladle before returning to the woman herself. Malphath peers over himself, but slides up closer to P'rel and lowers his head over the boy's shoulder, perhaps in an attempt to try and keep the very thin bronzerider a touch warmer. At least Py's teeth stop clattering together after a few minutes. Eyes dart to the corners closest to I'srie, but there is no sign that the youngest of the boys has issue with the BreakWater holder gravitating in his direction. At least, not yet. He's distracted from this prospect as Keziah arrives with the bucket and the ladle is plucked up after a salute and crisp. "Ma'am." Even if there was a twitch at one brow subtly of course, soon after. He takes the ladel, and selects Malphath's chest as the location of the application. "Okay man, this isn't going to hurt…but yeah, it's going to feel weird. Don't worry though, the numbness will go away. All right?" he asks, putting ladle to flesh and rubbing it in a circular motion. « I assume the extra explanation is meant for those, who do not pay attention, Master. It's not necessary to repeat what was already said aloud, not to myself. » Py snorts, but turns back to Keziah and puts the ladle back in the bucket.

Briana steps forward toward the bucket, waiting her turn to take the ladle to Sahazyth. The gold watches her lifemate curiously, craning her neck to watch the spot on her side that Briana places the dolop ever so carefully. She spreads it over the spot with the back of the ladle, though one gloved hand is placed upon Sahazyth's side. "It will feel a little weird…" She says even as Sahazyth extends her head to examine her spot, "Don't touch it with…" too late and the golden dragon's curiousity has gotten the best of her and she now has numbweed on the end of her nose. There is a blink of surprise as she quickly raises her head up , "Oh Saha.." Briana murmurs as she passes on the Ladle to Qe'pol so she can deal with her dragon's numb nose, trying to wipe off the goo with the edge of her sleeve. The golden dragon is wuffling and snorting her nose.

Qe'pol starts to hop from foot to foot a little. Just enough that it appears to be a more shuffling motion. "Tell /them/ tha'," He points towards his pants, an irritated look on his face. "I feel like I'm getting younger by the second, an' not in a good way." More shuffling back and forth as his eyes wait for the numbweed to make its way over to him. Eyebrows both arch up, into his hairline, staring at the bucket. "Ooookay dokie." The ladle is grabbed, a good amount is poured onto the nearest part of Nisuanekhdjieth, his left, front foreleg, and then the bucket and ladle is passed on. "Deal with the numbin' like a man, don't puss out on me, got it?" If dragons could roll their eyes, truly the bronze would be doing so. Instead, a disgusted look passes Nisuanekhdjieth's face. As… well as a look can pass a dragon's face, at least. Muzzle opens slightly, forked tongue waggling with unhappiness, a slight hissing noise leaving him. « Truly you are a dunce, get this slop off of me. » "Hey dude, I only did what the lady said to do. You got an issue, take it up wit' her." Keziah does get a LOOK from the bronze beast. Not an altogether friendly one. With a graceful swipe of his paw, the majority of the numbweed, in no way spread out but just plopped on down in a heap, gets thrown to the ground. « Unless deemed necessary, do not ever allow that substance to touch me again. »

Alosynth turns her whirling gaze to Nisuanekhdjieth and stares right back at him. She is silent as well. There's been no major disregard to manners, but she's waiting. "Numbweed is not just for the cuts and cracks that the hide might get. A part of the anatomy I really want you all to concentrate on are the muscles. While bone is hard to break. Wong strains are a fact of life. A number of weyrling dragons can be down at anyone point of time because they are their rider pushed them too hard. This is why you all will be doing excercises that are going to be dull and boring. Numbweed can help ease the pain of torn muscles and ligaments." She turns to look at Qe'pol "Be sure your dragon understands that participation is not optional." she says simply and then turns away from the /boy/.

I'srie just eyes the bucket going around, but he makes no move whatsoever to take the ladle, gaze narrowing on it a second and then watching as both Pol and P'rel numb their dragons with dollops and plops. The bluerider's nose wrinkles ever so slightly, hands shoved deeper in his pockets even as Tscyleth cants his head and merely observes first Malphath and then Nisu. I'srie, though, just presses lips together into a line and remains where he is. He totally isn't going to follow Pol's pointing, but he does mutter, "Shit, can't wait for the between lesson. Man, you think it's cold /now/.." He totally remembers the trip to the Yokohama. Tscyleth hovers close over I'srie's shoulder, both blue and bone giving a soft snort at their bronzen clutchsib.

«I can't feel my muzzle.» Sahazyth declares and lowers her head to try to rub her muzzle off in the snow. "It's ok…it will just last a little while, It will be fine and looks no different." Briana assures the gold, gloved hands running along the side of her neck. Well at least it has distracted her from the numb spot on her side. Finally the gold rises her head and blows the snow from her muzzle, some of which land upon the nearby crowd. She gives a little shake of her head and finally raises it high as if the problem had never occured and looks to her clutchsibs. «A most curious feeling, don't you think?» Briana just laughs a little as the gold recovers herself and looks over to the young men of the class, "How did yours go?"

Oh, there is much klah-sipping. And sitting. And generally..not doing a lot. But eventually Kevkah does peer at the position of the sun, and then climbs up to his feet. "I need to get going. I'll be dark soon enough. I'll take that with me!" He snags the other boy's mug as well and promptly takes off down the beach once more.

Keziah looks over at I'srie "Do you have a problem with participating?" she asks as she comes over to him. "You can't wait for the Between lesson huh? Well, better start learning to participate now." she notes "It is something they need to learn. Have a problem with it. Take it up with V'dim." She sets the bucket at I'sries feet. "Now one more important part of basic anatomy to know is your dragons tail. Now, some of you have had a problem with your dragon eating too much and getting a thick tail. Something that is definately to be avoided." she remarks "Now purging the tail is rather unpleasant business so it's best to avoid it. Aloe can be used to alleviate it, but it does take a fair amount."

Malphath rumbles unhappily as his chest goes numb, P'rel is suddenly tearing one of the scarfs off his neck and using it to try and wipe the residue of the numbweed off. "I don't think this is going to work, bud. You're just going to have to wait until it wears off." he says with a measure of irritation. He sends his eyes off to lock onto Keziah and a frown pulls down the corners of the bronzerider's mouth. "Is there a particular reason as to why we are doing this ma'am? Neither I or Malphath can understand why applying a medication unnecessarily would be part of an anatomy class." He looks to I'srie and Qe'pol, gaze darting off between the two other boys. "I thought I read anatomy on the board in the barracks, is that what you both read?" He almost sounds a bit panicked at this point, though it might have something to do with the magenta and hot pink flecks now whirling around in the bronze dragon's usually crimson eyes.

"You're assumin' I'm even gonna go between. Ever. Cuz I ain't. Flyin' straight, that's wha' Nisu an' I are gonna do. Jus' fly niiiice an' straight." To emphasize his point, Qe'pol does this continuous motion with his hand, where he brings all fingers together and juts his hand out in front of him, making his hand fly through the air. Over and over again. "I don't really like that between thing too much. Wigs me out, right?" The teenager shudders. "All dark an' crap. And they say to like… do that… song thing. Black, blacker, blackest… blah… blah something. Dragon wings. Something." Hands wave in front of his face. "See? I can't even remember how it goes. S'much for all those private harper lessons as a kid." A wry grin is on his face now, eyes filled with mirth (and COLD). "Dude, dude, guys, guys." Now? Now Qe'pol is cackling. "They poo out of their /tails/! Their /tails/ guys! Just SPLLLBBBBBTTTTT." There is an accompanying noise with this, sounds much like a fart-noise as Pol makes it by pursing his lips together and more or less spitting on the two other boys. "Hahahaha! Awesome." Times like this make Nisuanekhdjieth only wish to disappear or destroy his rider and go at it alone.

Sahazyth looks over to I'srie and Tscyleth, «It does not hurt little blue. It is much the opposite of hurt.» She reasures the blue dragon before looking back to the weyrlingmaster and the green giving the lesson. Briana glances to the blue weyrling at his refusal to participate for a moment before looking back to Keziah and gives a nod. Her face writ with concentration as she moves down to her gold's tail as things are explained. She tugs her gloves off her hands and tucks them into her waistband as she feels down the warm hide, checking for any variations as described. "Does it happen a lot when they get older Ma'am?"

Keziah turns and pounces on P'rel. Well not literally. "A very good question. One it's a good time to have the weyrling dragons experiance it before they are in pain and panic together. Briana, please ask Sahazyth to calm Malphath." Again, more training. Two. It's a test. Yes, you all need to listen and learn. But you also need to learn to think for yourselves eventually." She smiles "Never be afraid to question orders if you feel they are in error. Please speak up. Above all else, your dragons safety is your responsibility. Now. Back to the lesson. Again, it is important to pay attention to the structure of the wings. Study the muscle charts. The wings are the most important part of your dragon in some respects. A grounded dragon is hard on everyone. Take a look at your dragon and note how the muscles aren't as fully developed as ALosynth's here. But the structure is the same." She glances over at Briana "Wing sprains do lesson with experiance depending on what you're doing. Transport dragons can get them and same as Search and rescue dragons. ALso those training for the games can be at risk as well." A pause and a look at Qe'pol "You will learn to between or risk your dragon to not knowing how and being lost if something happens."

I'srie raises his head to stare at Keziah, chin lifting slightly as he meets the woman's gaze. "I'm not putting that shit on Tscyleth without good reason," he tells her flatly, lashes lowering a little, "I don't intend to get his hide numb unless he needs it. You don't put medicine on someone just to teach them how it feels." Or at least, /he/ doesn't. Tscyleth concurs, apparently, as there is a slight hiss from the young blue, not encouraged /at all/ by Malphath and P'rel over there, canting his head towards them only briefly before his gaze snaps to the gold. There's a scathing look sent her way, Tscyleth merely giving a snort at the weyrling's tone and informing her darkly, « Refer to me as Tscyleth, or not at all. » Turning back to the AWLM, the blue eyes the woman in an almost critical manner. Iess, on the other hand has turned to just.. STARE at Qe'pol. "/Shit/, man, you've lost it.." though his lips twitch slightly, the boy looking like he doesn't know whether to laugh or grimace.

Zhaoth stalks ahead of Ers'lan, a typical sight, nearly prancing with some inner confidence on the way to go. Ers'lan doesn't seem to be aware of the destination until they are upon the beach, eyeing the others that were rounded up for a lesson. Zhaoth is the eager one, pushing forward and passed the other dragons until he sits right beside Sahazyth. Ers'lan has no choice but to follow, flashing sympathic glances towards those that Zhaoth might've thwapped with a wing or tail in his progress over to get front row beside the gold.

Briana looks up to Keziah with a blink as the directive is given. There is a pause as she gathers her wits about her, not expecting such a command before she looks up to her lifemate. Her eyes unfocus for a time, one hand supporting herself as it rests still upon the golden tail. Sahazyth sways her head back to look at her lifemate before lifting herself to her full height and looking over to P'rel and Malphath. «Calm Malphath. It will be over soon and you will feel yourself again. You must calm yourself so that your lifemate remains calm. We must feel this so when we DO need it it does not make us afraid Tscyleth.» The last directed toward the blue. Briana's eyes are still unfocused, her features knit with concentration. As the brown joins them, Sahazyth tilts her head to Zhaoth and gives a warble of greeting. Only then does Briana look up from her link with the gold, finally taking a breath.

There is a certain amount of respect swirling in those blue-green tinged with red eyes of Nisuanekhdjieth's, as he looks over towards the bluerider. « Why could you not be as intelligent as he? » It's a question that the dragon transmits to all other dragons, which of course only causes Qe'pol's face to burn with red embaressment. "Uh… well… I was listenin'…" Pause. "Whatever, dragon, I dun gotta listen to you. I'll do wha' I want, when I want, to between with you!" Arms cross and Pol looks everywhere but at his dragon, whose head is still hovering over his shoulder. Ignoring his dragon's complete existence, as well as the declaration that he'd need to go between (LA LA LA NOT LISTENING, LA LA LA!) the bronzerider grins at Iess. "C'mooon, dude. That's /hilarious/! They. Poo. Out. Their. /Tails/." All of Pern needs to find this humorous. Back towards Keziah, then a quick glance at Nisuanekhdjieth. "Dude. weyrlingmaster-chic? Nisu has like no muscle at all. Just all these bones, all… jutting out… an'…" Stare. "Faranth, guys, my dragon's damned ugly." The bronze dragon SNORTS in distain.

Compared to a few classes ago, Ers'lan is looking fantastic. He is well groomed, with beard and scruff trimmed, face washed, stain free clothes on, boots shined. He looks like a soldier ready for some elite battle, representing the best. Zhaoth too, while he still is rangy and boney, looks well. Oiled, cleaned, happy. There's even a cant in his head as the brownling issues a fine greeting to the goldlet. « Would we be caught up? It was due to my itching hide that we were kept back. Mine did well to ease my growth. » The brownling furls his wings, the pinions of which upon folding back up cross at the ends. He is a proud little fellow, holding his head high, curring ever so lightly. Ers'lan gives a soft smirk, one eye squinting up, casually regarding the one bronze pair only to disregard them with a casual roll of his shoulders. He places himself beside Briana, murmuring quietly, "Hey Bri. Mind filling us in?"

Malphath's eyes continue to display signs of alarm, and P'rel is doing his best to calm him. Both palms are pressed to the darkly etched dragon's hide, even if that means some transference of the numbweed to his own skin in the process. Sahazyth's mind touching his gets a recoil affect, a fumbling darkness of heat as if one was blind and stumbling around in the middle of a sun baked desert sent back to her in response. Whatever else is said to or around the former harper, is either missed or ignored, golden eyes fixed and locked with an expression of absolute concentration upon his visage. Resembling closely a spooked runner, Malphath takes several unsteady steps backwards, almost sending his rider face first into the wintery ground. Luckily the boy regains his balance quickly, making soft calming shhhing sounds. Wings rustle and half extend out from Malphath's well built frame, breath coming in quick whuffs from his nostrils. Eventually, and this does take some time, the bronze settles some with one a fraction more shifting of his limbs. This leaves the mass of his head before P'rel, the blond soothingly stroking the beast's muzzle is gentle affectionate strokes.

Keziah watches Ers'lan and his come down to the beach "So nice of you to join us." she says simply and then turns her attention to P'rel as she watches him get his dragon under control "Well done P'rel." A glance at Qe'pol. "Stop. Hush. Zip it." she remarks "And listen." she gets into the weyrlings face and arches a brow "Is there a point to this tirade or are you just mouthing off to hear yourself?" She headshakes a little "Honestly, it's easy enough to build muscle. You have to do right by your dragon. If oyu don't and your dragon dies, you'll be lucky to die yourself." she notes softly "So shape up, or death will ship you out." she notes. A look towards Brie "It'll take practice. But you're on the right track." Now to I'srie "You know your dragon best I'srie" she smiles at him, pleased at least with the reason, if not with the tone.

Sahazyth jerks slightly from the recoil from the bronze, her eyes whirling red for a moment until Briana looks up to her lifemate, "It's ok…just focus on me now…" She calls up to the gold who finally recovers from the stun to look down to her lifemate and wuffles her slightly. Briana looks up into Saha's eyes as her bare hands come to her muzzle. "One day Sahazyth…" She murmurs before looking back to Ers'Lan and Zhaoth. "We were getting them used to Numbweed. Some panicked a little at the sensation." She explains and motions to the vat and ladle nearby. "Just need to keep him reasurred as it is applied cause their hide will go numb. Sahazyth sniffed the spot I applied and her nose went numb too.." Briana says with a note of chagrin to her tone.

Qe'pol jerks his head back as Keziah is suddenly is in front of me, giving him the whatfor. All the bronzerider can do is nod his head at the woman, eyes going round. When she moves on, he tosses a glance at both Py and Iessrien, not overly caring for the distress either might be, cause, well, Pol's problems are just so much more important. "Guys, guys. Dude." His voice is down to a hush now, eyes jerking back to where Keziah is every so often, hoping the assistant weyrlingmaster doesn't see him. "She. Is. So. /Hot/." Eyebrows waggle. Nisuanekhdjieth, quite irritated though the only show of it being the increasing movement of his eyes, takes a few steps backwards, away from his rider. Here's hoping the stupid isn't contagious.

Lan's eyes dart toward Keziah at her, nodding at her greeting, "Aye. Tis good that we dun narh miss it." He falls silent as the lesson continues, cranning his head slightly to listen to Briana as she helps fill him in on what he's missed. A blink goes to the numbweed and then a scoff, "Really. Tis that all the fuss be about? Numbweed. That which can be saving a man's life?" A hand reaches out toward Zhaoth as the brown twists it around, fingers scritching some affection down along the muzzle and back underneath eyeridges. "Ya be strong, aye. Narh scared of silly things like thar…" he laughs a little at something unspoken between the two, the brown whuffling and nudging the goldlet there after, borrowing some of the numbweed. There is a surprised little whuff of air from the brownling's nose, as it goes numb from the patch he stole from Sahazyth. Lan just chuckles again, reassuring quietly, "Tis right. Works ta kill pain. Ya know that. I be using it fer me legs and arms."

There is a slow blink at Nisuanekhdjieth, I'srie's stare shifting to his friend's bronze for a few seconds, brow arching at the question. He opens his mouth, eyes flicking to Pol's face, and the bluerider promptly decides not to answer that. Tscyleth, on the other hand, offers poor put-upon Nizu a somewhat bemused, « You are the one who chose him, » shadows unsympathetic to his clutchbrother's plight, « Surely you will shape him into something better. » Gee, wonder where he might have gotten /that/ idea from. Iess only rolls his eyes at Pol and the poo revelations, unable to keep that twitch of a grin off his face however. He does at least offer Keziah a firm nod, but Malphath's panicking has I'srie turning a concerned look to P'rel, though he doesn't move from there he's standing. Tscyleth, though, snaps his head around with a long HISS at the gold who is no older than himself, the sound deepening into a near-growl, « You presume there /will/ be fear. Do not mistake reason for emotion. Nor meddle where you are not welcome. » his wings flaring briefly in alarm, even as Iess has to abruptly whirl about, hands flying to Tscy's side to try to calm his own lifemate now, a muttered, "What is /wrong/ with you?" glared briefly at Briana. As for Keziah? Iess just gives Pol another slight stare and goes back to running fingers over Tscyleth's hide, the blue backing towards Malphath with wings half open.

Alosynth turns and hisses at Tscyleth and then bugles « You will show proper respect for golds!! » Her mindvoice whips in sharp strands. « Insubordinance will /not/ be tolerated. » Keziah pulls out her whistle and blows it harshly. "Enough out of you all!" She goes silent and stares each and every one of them down. Whether or not they have done anything to deserve it. "This foolishness has gone on long enough. If you don't want rations then I suggest you all cool it. You are here to learn, not bicker amongst each other or." She turns to glare at Qe'pol "Or degrade your dragon in front of everyone. Holders have lost enough respect for dragons. Do they have to be disrespected by their riders as well? I want an essay out of you Qe'pol about the virtues of dragons." She turns to stare down I'srie "From you I want an essay on why golds are to be given the utmost respect and what happens to a Weyr when that system breaks down?" She glares at the rest of them "Class dismissed. I suggest each and everyone of you think about your actions and the consequences of it. We do not, and I mean do /not/ need to have a whole class of weyrlings end up incased in solid rock because they can't be bothered to pay attention."

Ers'lan, since he is standing next to Briana, notices the glare and the comment from Iess. Likely from the previous relationship they have built and the loyalties involved, Ers'lan pivots and steps forward a bit, his head tilted in a manner of sarcastic disbelief, "Whar?" There is an extension of his arm out to the side, hands freed from pockets, the other keeping Zhaoth back. "Thar is nothing wrong with her. Ya best back off. She be a goldrider now. Ya owe her a little bit of respect I reckon. One day she be yer weyrwoman." There is a protective growl in his voice, eyes flashing back to Briana, before they turn on Keziah, perhaps to see if the weyrlingmaster will back up his own words or some how assist in the friction between the group.

Nisuanekhdjieth takes his place back up, dragon-chest to his rider's back. « So I did, so I did, Tscyleth. You are quite correct that I shall have to mold him but sometimes, even the loveliest creation that comes from a mound of clay… is still a mound of clay. » Though still he stands, tail twitching with irritation, ever the present shadow of Qe'pol's new life. The lad, luckily, missed the comment to the blue dragon. Instead focusing on his new task. Groaning with irritation. "Virtues? I dun even know wha' that word means." Vice though? He's well versed with the vices. Pouting, the weyrlings get to thinking. "Is bein' able to pick up chics cause you've got a bronze dragon a virtue? Cuz I reckon' it'd be one." Pol elbows Nisuanekhdjieth in a companionship-kinda way. All ha-ha, see what I did thar sorta deal. The dragon simply stands stoic. "Oh! Oh! They fly. That's… virtuous… or whatever. An'… crap outta their tails." He's seriously TRYING here, which is why this is so sad. A smirk is sent towards I'srie. "Wanna do our essays together?" Yay group study sessions!

Briana looks over to I'srie at his muttered comment, confusion plain upon her face. Her gaze flickers from him to the other weyrlings and back again. "What have I done to deserve that? I am just trying to learn here so I don't kill my dragon out of stupidity. Then she hears the comments from the WLM and her face pales a bit, but her lifemate instead raises her head a bit taller, her wings spreading out slightly. Her whirling red gaze shifts towards to the blue and his rider. «There is nothing wrong with my rider. It would please me for you to pass that on to all your lifemates.» She says as she looks between the blue and the bronzes. Briana stands there still caught up in the words of her supporters and detractors, both draconic and human, eyes going unfocused as her lifemate takes control of things.

P'rel makes no comment on how attractive Keziah might be, though he does shoot a dirty look at Qe'pol. "Time and place, dude." he says, still petting that hand down Malphath's snout. The rest of his fellow bronzerider's antics don't seem to be worth the blond's time, for he's watching as Tscyleth backs up into his lifemate just enough to graze him. "Careful, Tscyleth…" he says quietly, but the contact with the blue seems to have a tension releasing effect, Malphath's head swinging around to peer at his clutch sibling with scarlet eyes. This has Py relaxing too, letting out a breath in a whoosh. He was missing a lot of the interaction going on, and so he's blinking in surprise as I'srie rounds one out on Briana, brows twitching down low. A flicker of confusion across his countenance. That is until the man who used to be called Landers steps into the foray. Eyes narrow slightly, and it's Malphath that starts to growl ever so softly. Py once again has to put both hands on the bronze's chest, leaning into the creature bonded to him. A push at the dragon before him, and the former harper thrusts himself off him and puts himself between I'srie and Ers'lan. "Respect is earned, not given to you on the sands, and just because she happened to Impress a gold dragon doesn't mean she's due anything. She's at the same level as the rest of us." he says, chin lifting upwards in regards to the brownrider. "If, and I do mean IF that renegade spawn manages to take her place as weyrwoman, I will defend her honor with my dying breath. Until then…you need to back the fuck off."

Ers'lan regards P'rel as he too gets in the fray… and instead of actually getting in the fray, P'rel is facing down the former-sailor. There is a squint of the brownling's eye, consideration. There's a little bit of a flick of his lip, upward, into a sardonic smirk. Instead of letting ego take the best of him, there is a familiar bunt of his dragon's nose against the back of his leg, the support there as Zhaoth takes a stance behind Ers'lan, not aggressive, but there, supportive. Ers'lan runs his eyes up and down P'rel, lips pressing together, "Aye. Respect is -earned- … goes fer you too." There is a moment where he inhales, the anger seen welling in his eyes for the remark about renegades, backing up his friend one hundred and ten percent, "Py. Dun get me wrong here, but Bri has been a good friend of mine. She be with me all the way through candidacy. And I be damned iffin ya call her a renegade when she be ONE of us, ya sharding fool. She be impressed to a dragon. Ain't that enough? Get over it. And ya frelling know she will be groomed ta be more than we be. She -will- be a weyrwoman. Thar be no guarantee ya be a weyrleader… faranath help us iffin ya do." Lines are drawn in the sand. The sailor is backing up Briana.

Tscyleth is FREAKING OUT, mind radiating streaks of star-shattered darkness across the weyr as a sheer wall of roiling chaos, an outright HISS sent at Alosynth, teeth bared. If the green were /trying/ to worsen the situation, she couldn't have done a better job, really, the young blue's eyes gone blood-red. It's only the sudden realization of Malphath's presence that prevents him from lashing out at Er'lan when the brownrider menaces his rider, the growl indicating he will in fact do so if the other boy tries to get closer. There is a snapped and unimpressed, « That remains to be proven » sent to the gold, however, his own wings flaring with another growl, much like a threatened feline. But the quiet words from P'rel, whatever their intention, have the young blue moving no further, form practically shaking from the tension therein. Iess looks no less relaxed, eyes narrowing at Landers, "/I/ owe her /nothing/. If you aren't aware, Xanadu /has/ a weyrwoman. And I don't intend to remain at this place long enough to see a renegade ruin it." There's a pause, and a breath, as he utters a flatly accusing, "/Kate/," as if it were an insult. The words are spat out with absolute certainty, lips twitching up at P'rel's coming to his defense there, eyes widening at his friend even as Tscyleth suddenly crouches low. Abruptly realizing the danger of the situation, there is a /look/ sent toward his blue, though Iess himself is suddenly moving toward the bronzerider, quite simply grabbing Py and hauling him off in the direction of the barracks, without a hint of warning. Keziah and Qe'pol? They might get a slight /look/, but I'srie has no response to either of them, and considering the state he's in, not to mention his /dragon/, it's probably a good thing he doesn't.

The tension is thick in the air, even Qe'pol can feel it. The usually slow-witted lad narrowing his eyes, clenching his fists. Shoulders are squared as he remains in his place, near his best friends and their lifemates. "It dun look like any of us are /tryin'/ to earn nobodies respect." Both hands, still fisted, go up and behind the bronzerider's head. A lax position, for how strained his muscles are. "Just saying." His accent, while not thick, is torn away. The holder blood still within him coming out, and turns of lessons of proper speech and manners flowing through. "I don't care willy nilly," Yeah, he totally said 'willy nilly'. "The color of anyone's dragon matters not to me, in the grand scheme of things. Unless all that talk I've been spoon fed since arriving at the Weyr about every dragon's importance has been nothing but drivel." Face a mask of coldness, eyes ablaze in defense of his only two friends. Though it all melts away after a moment, and Pol is as he usually is. "How shardin' sweet would it be to see ya as Weyrleader, right, P'rel? …right?" Looking over, the bronze and bluerider are already heading back towards the weyrling barracks. A sharp look is sent to Briana and Ers'lan, before the weyrling himself is running after his friends, Nisuanekhdjieth following along at a more leisurely pace.

Sahazyth is standing as tall as she can, keeping her lifemate in thrall for the moment. Her act of protection perhaps for the girl who stands pale with her eyes unfocused still at her tail. Sahazyth looks down at her clutchsibs, eyes whirling red with anger. «Better or not, she is a rider and deserves as much respect as any other rider. Where a person is born does not matter to us, just that they were born for us. Remind your riders of this.» Her mindvoice is a blast of hot spices across the minds of those around her. Her wings mantle up to make herself look even larger. At least Zhaoth is spared the focus of her anger at the moment though now doubt he has felt the mental blast of it as well. Finally Briana breaks free of the hold her dragon held over her and she looks over to P'rel for a moment and there is hurt evident on her face and she looks then to Qe'pol and I'srie as she too draws herself up, forcing herself to keep her chin up. "So that is the source of it then? The accident of my birthing is being held against me? That my mother was raped by a renegade instead of married to some nice holder or rider? I am a weyrling, I impressed just like you all did. I don't demand any more respect for impressing gold, just some respect." She takes a breath and turns towards Keziah, "Weyrlingmaster might we be excused?" Briana asks before looking to Ers'lan and gives him a thankful look.

"I never said it didn't," P'rel replies coolly about respect, his voice, despite the words eerily calm. Malphath rumbles softly and steps away from Tscyleth, putting himself at his rider's side, scarlet eyes whirling as his head comes down, peering over at the bronwriding pair. There is nothing particularly threatening about his stance, he was for all intents and purposes just being supportive of his rider, as Zhaoth is for his. "As for her," he says jerking his head over towards Briana, "It's all fine well and good man that you want to stick up for your friend, that's all I'm doing. But whether or not she proves to be one of us, remains to be seen. Right now, she's the offspring of renegades, and a weyrling. She is NOT a weyrwoman now. When she earns that title, I'll be the first in line to salute. Until then…she gets treated no differently than you or I." A pause and the former harper gets a soft, humorless smile that twists up the corner of his lips. "I don't recall ever mentioning that I wanted to be weyrleader, but at least if that happens Malphath and I would of earned it." he says in a sinisterly chilly voice, as he takes a single step forward towards the brownrider. Malphath was growling now, low, and just so. Luckily, I'srie comes up behind and scoops the bronzerider up, hauling him off with a blink and protest. Though a look, darkly burnished gold eyes locked on Briana, and he struggles against his capture's arm. He can't reply cause Malphath is suddenly putting his bulk between himself and the renegade born goldrider. "Shut up Pol, there is NO SHARDING way I am going to be weyrleader. It would SO NOT BE COOL." comes the echo of his voice, along with a few grunts of struggle. "Lemme go Iess!" And then, Malphath glances past the girth of his frame, and snorts at those left behind, before insuring his backside is the last thing any of them see.

Keziah will kill V'dim. Slowly and painfully. "Everyone is now on lockdown. No one is to leave the barracks barring an emergency until further notice. Rations will be brought to you. Curtesy is something that should never ever be forgotten. And disrespect to your instructors is tolerated even less. Not only will reports be written up and submitted to V'dim, but your Senior weyrwoman will be notified as well. All goldriders become weyrwomen of the Weyr. Obviously more lessons on etiquette are required and I will want an essay from each and everyone of you about proper etiquette concerning Weyr politics. "If anyone is caught breaking lockdown, be assured that the proper consequences will be administered swiftly and harshly. Dismissed." And with that, the assistant weyrling master turns to leave even as Alosynth is bugling out the Weyr

"Run. Run away fearful of what ya cannot face…" Ers'lan speaks loud enough to those who've already turned their backs, the brownling giving a bit of a smoldering look at those who would've and maybe one day could've been his friends. There might be a chance. Yet, with the way they react, it is hard to say. The future unclear and uncertain. Zhaoth is handling the freak outs well, staying steadfast and strong, on all fours, wings flared out slightly, neck held in a curl, eyes whirling with spots of red in the mostly blue colored eyes. Zhaoth was calm. Ers'lan attempted to remain calm in the storm of disapproval from the other weyrlings. Ers'lan doesn't move at the step forward from P'rel, his facial expression hardened, his body tense, though hands loose at his sides. He shifts over toward Briana, putting a hand on her, "Iffin I can get passed it… they be just young dumb kids that dun know nothing. Dun dwell upon it. They be seeing in due time who ya are and how ya are…" The former sailor casts a glance toward the trio who stalk together, shaking his head slightly, "Pfft… Give 'em a few Turns…"

Briana nods to the Weyrlingmaster's directive, but for now does not move from where she is standing. She can not go back to the barracks just yet. She looks down at the ground for a moment before going up to her lifemate and setting her fingers upon her lifemate's side. Unfortunately in the place the numbweed was, but she does not seem to care. Sahazyth lowers her head towards Briana and settles her muzzles atop her head. «I will always love you Briana. Do not think upon their words.»

continued in Ultimatum

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