Keep Your Secrets

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
A long and roughly oblong cavern. About a third of the space is open, used for classes or chores as required. The rest of the space is filled with couches of varying sizes, all with plenty of space between them. Some couches are obviously intended for the very young weyrlings while the largest ones at the back are for the older weyrlings.
There are supplies for the care of dragons tucked back against the walls. A barrel of oil sits with scrub brushes and soft clothes, and a thick hardwood table is used to prepare meat in bite-sized pieces for the young dragons. There's also a few supplies for the weyrling humans, like bedding for cots or extra pillows for those sleeping on their lifemate's couch.

It's nearly midnight and the barracks is silent - save for the ever present sounds of rustling bodies, snoring of various levels, but most within are asleep or pretending to be. [[player:M'tan]]]'s been laying on his cot for the last two hours, hands behind his head as he silently wills those around him to silence and sleep. Sirhyth's eyes are as awake as his rider's, his restless energy shifting to the tip of his tail that twitches and taps in anticipation. Certain that those who could tattle on him are asleep, M'tan finally tosses his covers off and rises to shove his feet into his boots. He's fully dressed, in dark clothes to blend into the shadows, and begins to usher Sirhyth off of his couch and out the barracks.

Almost everybody is asleep. Risali stirs at the subtleness rustle of sound, eyes coming open from where she lay in fitful rest on her side, arms curled under her head and grey eyes finding M'tan with groggy awareness in the dark. Give her a moment, maybe two, and she's lifting her head just enough to sweep her focus around the barracks before getting to her feet. She steps into her own boots, pulls her sheets around her shoulders to hide her (modest) state of undress, and then stumbles after the bronzer with a whisper of, "M'tan?"

M'tan's not going to stop at Risali's whisper, so she'll have to follow him and Sirhyth out the barracks door. He's been caught and has to offer some sort of explanation so he waits to see if she follows. Sirhyth has a mind to reach out to see if the loud young gold is awake. His mind is a blanket of stars and a cool misted fog. If she is stirring, he'll encourage her to sleep. M'tan leans against the building door and waits for Risali. She'll come out. When she does, he reaches and grabs her elbow and tugs her with him up the path so they can speak in hushed whispers that hopefully don't wake any others. "You should go back to sleep," he tells her in a low voice, releasing her elbow. "It's cold."

Indeed, follow she does, underdressed for the cold that meets her when she steps out of the barracks and gooseflesh rises immediately over her flesh. It's compacted by the sudden curl of fingers around her elbow that have her jumping and slamming an instinctual fist into his bicep before… she catches it in her fingers and stumbles with sleep-laden gracelessness after him. When M'tan releases her, Risali releases him, tugging her blankets closer over her shoulders in a make-shift shawl. Nevermind the late and the cold, Risali is breathing out, "Are you okay? Where are you going?" as she continues to follow after him. Sirhyth is not so lucky, for the gold surely did stir when her rider woke, and despite the quiet of shadows tempting her back to sleep, Leirith's energy is much too high for that; in fact, the mini-queen's behind her rider and lead by her sight - though perhaps she is becoming more… aware as she gets older, for it's not until they're away from all those who sleep that the pulsating bass in her mind beats at Sirhyth's with unencumbered amusement. « I will never say no to an adventure, brother. I have the most badass minion around, and we have to keep her on her toes. Nothing like pitch black and the potential for death to motivate. »

There's always a laugh on M'tan's lips when he's faced with Risali's outbursts, her fist to his bicep is no exception. He watches her in the cold and smirks - he's got a jacket on. "I'm fine. Sirhyth likes to see the night sky," that isn't a lie as Sirhyth's attention indeed is pointed skyward at the million blinking stars above them. "So we… wander for a while." That catches at an untruth, he's trying to hide his anxious hitch of shoulder and flicking out of fingers. "So, go back to bed and get warm. We'll be back in a little while." Usually he and Sirhyth sneak back into the barracks before the sun comes up. Sirhyth can't help the sigh that echos out from his mind and tries to mute Leirith's insistent exuberence. « You are ready for an adventure? Then take her on a walk. She looks cold and tired. We do our own things. » He's that older brother, the one who doesn't want their younger sibling to tag along. There's flashes of blue threading through his usual dark shadows. « Can you take her with you now? »

And there is always a scowl on Risali's face when she's dealing with M'tan; it comes now, on the heels of his laughter, in a sharp side-glance that passes wordlessly between them (except for another ((gentle)) punch to his tricep this time) and is devoured by the night around them. It doesn't keep Risali's eyes from watching M'tan's shoulder hitch, nor is she any less privy to the conversation between Leirith and Sirhyth, because this is Leirith, who projects everything. So Risali takes the necessary steps to keep up, burrowing closer under her blanket and trying not to trip in un-laced boots as M'tan gives her directions once more and once more, she doesn't heed them. "Liar," she breathes out, pulling her blanket slightly over her nose and mouth as Leirith observes her brother's exasperation at her over-the-top existence with more of that amusement. « No, » she tells him, and there's laughter, a hint of a feathered mask that bleeds into distorted colors as that drum in her mind picks up with her excitement. « Are you saying that we are not welcome? That she does not look fierce? »

M'tan's hands lift to his face, using two fingers on each to scrub at his eyes in weariness. "You're so annoying," he tells her in a hushed tone once he's dropped his hands to fold in front of him. "Do you see me snooping about you and your business?" He glances around them in the rich darkness of the hour, huffing out a breath as he watches her wrap herself up in her blanket. "You're cold, aren't you? Bug me tomorrow about what you want to know. I'm not going to tell you. You're making us late." He grunts out a disgruntled, frustrated, noise. He knows she'll not leave him alone after admitting that. Sirhyth is calm in the face of that onslaught of Leirith's amusement. He's gathered all his shadows around his mind, using them to buffer against her louder tendencies. There's flashes of blues and purples interlacing in that dark swirl. « You may not join everything you know » he tells her, not nearly as annoyed as his rider, « She looks silly wrapped in a blanket and cold. Neither of you are suited to the night » he doesn't mean that as an insult, buffered by his lace of humor and love for his sister, « let us have it and go back to sleep. »

Annoying? "Ex-fucking-cuse you," Risali hisses into the minimal distance separating her from the bronzer - and while normally she would have left him to his secrets and melted back into the shadows, well… there is just something different about tonight. M'tan's question about snooping earns him another furious look, and then Risali is reaching out a hand to grab his arm and digging in her fingers to make him stop, for just a moment, as she withdraws the contact and scowls. "Fuck you, M'tan. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Clearly you are." And the tiny woman hitches her blanket up higher over her shoulders again, aware she looks ridiculous with dark, loosely curling hair wild and jutting out at angles despite its length. "You can keep your sharding secrets, just… don't get caught." A pause, as one hand comes down on the snout of her still-blind dragon and Risali's shoulders lose their tension, "And be safe. Come on, Leirith." But she doesn't argue, she doesn't delay him any more; Risali redirects Leirith back the way they came, though it doesn't stop Leirith from sending the colors her brother projects to her pulsating in the bass of her mind, jumping to a rhythm that sends them expanding in jagged outreaches of color. She loves him too; it's no secret. « Says you, » a pause, and then. « No more trying to put me to sleep, Sirhyth. It's an abuse of your power. » But she's lead away by her lifemate, leaving bronze and bronzerider alike to their mystery.

M'tan's laughing at Risali's hissing, though his mirth is silenced by the obvious hurt he's caused. He's a dick, yes, but he doesn't actively try and hurt Risali's feelings. Not too deeply. Still, he watches her go without comment. He'll make apologies to her in the morning. For now, he guides Sirhyth down a path that has them melting into the dark shadows. Sirhyth has a laugh, a husky sound echoing in a chill night sky, « You like it when I help you sleep. But I won't do it unless you ask. » He leaves her with a parting surge of warmth that could be likened to a hug and then he leaves her behind.

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