All Kinds of Tramatizing and Awkward

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.

"Alright, Weyrlings!" N'shen strides into the barracks, boot-heels clicking on the ground as he gestures for the young riders to join him. "Come and take a seat and listen to Uncle N'shen do his best to embarass each and every one of you." Petty repayment for his first go at this particular lecture. Of course, that was because Natali happened to be one of the Weyrlings in that audience. V'dim is nowhere to be seen - then again, do you really want some crotchety old man staring at you while learning the ways of boy and girl dragons?

Malphath yawns and stretches a bit on his couch, whirling crimson eyes fixing on N'shen as he speaks. P'rel too, looks up, from where he sits on his cot almost at the same time. He had been reading you see. Some book on political tactics or the like. Dry, very boring. In fact the bronzerider looked half asleep because of it. Brows twitch downwards at what the man says, but with some hesitation he closes the book, sets it aside and rises to his feet. Malphath steps down as well, now about as large as he was going to get. Which was actually, pretty darn large. For a bronze. The pair head over to gather with the others, mindful of tails and such along the way before settling in off to one side.

I'srie is probably glad for the lack of V'dim for this particular lesson, the bluerider having been absent most of the day, off on his own while his dragon slept. Now that Tscyleth is awake, the boy sits beside his lifemate, slender fingers tracing the sleek line of the blue's jaw, brushing lightly over midnight hide that has been meticulously cleaned and oiled. There are no spoken words between the two, though pondwater eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, whatever silent conversation taking up the entirety of the weyrling's attention. He at first misses the clicking of boots, though N'shen's words have Iess' head jerking up, gaze flicking to the rider, brow arching for the man's words. He nevertheless leaves Tscyleth's side and moves to join the others, the blue rising and slinking after him, a deep shadow of a dragon trailing behind an equally dark-clad young man. There's a brief glance toward P'rel as the bluerider settles, Tscy also sinking down to curl tail around deadly claws, the boy's back to the beast. They are otherwise silent, I'srie's arms coming up to drape over his knees as he sits.

As the Weyrlings gather, N'shen takes a seat on the floor, legs crossed and arms resting casually along his thighs. The young man seems amused, and he gestures for the dragons to stay back while indicating for the Weyrlings to form a semi-circle before him. "As you have noticed, your dragons are pretty much full-grown. This means, of course, that the greens," and he pegs one of the green weyrlings with a glance, "will rise soon, and the bronzes, browns and blues," and here his eyes flicker over P'rel and I'srie, "will chase. Before this can happen, we need to make sure you guys are aware of what it means to be part of a mating flight. And I don't just mean the conclusion," he adds wryly.

P'rel sits with his legs folded before him, his elbows resting on his thighs and his hands hanging in the free space the position had created. Golden eyes do wander to I'srie however, in time, watching as the bluerider joins the rest of the weyrlings gathered, though not for long. Soon he's back to giving N'shen his full attention. Malphath rumbles at the gesture to hang back, not seeming particularly pleased at the prospect, but certain does do as he's told. It doesn't stop him though from paying attention as he sits back on his haunches, his long neck curved elegantly as his gaze rests upon the assistant weyrlingmaster. At mention of greens, the bronze snorts, and his rider twitches. He glances over his shoulder at his lifemate, mouth opening as he turns back to the instructor, but closes a second later.

I'srie shifts to scoots forward to join the circle of weyrlings, sitting with his knees drawn up almost to his chest, arms encircling them idly. Tscyleth is hanging back like a great deepocean shadow behind him, the light which touches him swallowed up by the darkness of his hide. Iess does cast a glance over his shoulder, pondwater-bluie eyes trailing over his lifemate's form, abyss and moonlight mixed together, still and silent, before the boy turns his attention to N'shen again, slight nod given the assistant weyrlingmaster. His gaze, as the various colors are mentioned, flicks to the riders of such, lingering a second on P'rel and moving on, those wry words having the bluerider's brows furrowing slowly.

"So, first off, is there anyone here who is familiar with what a mating flight is and what happens during one?" N'shen's grin is bright, positively beaming as his green eyes flicker from weyrling to weyrling, looking for any sign of an answer. He's enjoying this, that's for certain.

Malphath rumbles as this question is posed, and again, P'rel twitches. He shakes his head at the bronze, lips pressed together to form a thin line. Another rumble, almost insistent in it's tone before the bronzerider raises his hand, even as he frowns. "It's like with any animal. The female dragons go into heat. This gets the males attention. When the female is ready, she'll blood, and fly. The males chase her. This floods the riders of the dragons with arousal." he says, voice getting softer and softer even as a flush rises to his cheeks. His eyes fixed on the floor before him. "Whatever male catches the female, mates with her. Usually this means the riders…mate…as…well." Cue awkward shifting and embarrassed roll of eyes towards the ceiling, then a cough. Several of the other weyrlings are staring at the blond at this point, and as if he could feel their gazes, he haunches into himself a bit. "What? My dad's a brownrider. I asked about it when I was younger. You don't forget that shit." Grumble, and the bronzerider's frown deepens as he falls silent.

There's no answer from I'srie, at least not immediately, lashes lowering with his own thoughts, and the slightest of headshakes after some seconds. Nope, the holdbred bluerider has no familiarity with such thinks, and judging from the ..long, blank look he gives P'rel when the bronzerider 'explains' things, Iess would probably rather have not known. He'll just join the others in staring.

"Correct," N'shen murmurs, eyes flickering over P'rel. "A green or gold typically goes into heat, or, in the more common vernacular, goes proddy some time before the actual flight. The timeframe for this depends on the dragon - some start to show signs as soon as a week before she rises, while others may never show any indication at all. Often, the female's personality - and that of her rider - shows a marked difference between proddy and not, though this is not always the case." His expression darkens for a moment, eyes flickering out the door - but he offers no explanation. "Once she is ready to rise, she will make her way to the feeding grounds, where her rider will be expected to keep her from eating her kills." He pauses, zeroing in on the present female riders. "A female dragon whose stomach is filled with meat can not fly fast or far, and runs the risk of not being high enough when she is caught. Dragons mate on the wing, falling while doing the deed, and if they aren't high enough up, they may hit the ground before they can regain control. Blood, on the other hand, fuels her body and gives her the extra energy she needs for a fast, high flight. Males often blood too," he adds, shifting his gaze to I'srie. "They don't have to, and sometimes they prefer not to - especially in the case of green flights, where there isn't time between their arrival at the pens and her rising, but in gold flights," and now he focuses on a brownrider, "the male needs all the help he can get to keep up with the often much larger and much faster queen. Questions?"

That brownrider, is Ers'lan. His attention slips up from the floor where his eyes were drawn at when he gets some indication that he's being focused upon, namely due to his dragon in the back giving a physical snuffle of a sound. Spotting N'shen's eyes on him, he straightens out his back and keeps his eyes forward, pursing his lips at the mention of a brown being able to catch or chase a queen. His hand does lift in the air after a time, meaning to ask a question if he's spotted. There's an outward flinch at something unseen, dawn blue eyes narrowing back over his shoulder toward Zhaoth, returning to the front in hopes of getting a question answered.

P'rel shakes his head after N'shen finishes explaining, not actually having any questions. Malphath is silent as well, which is likely a good indication that the bronzerider wasn't just trying to not participate. Since he had finished speaking, the boy's gaze had dropped to the floor somewhere between himself and where N'shen was sitting before the class.

I'srie continues to stare blankly, gaze flicking to N'shen when the bronzerider explains more, the bluerider's mouth opening, and then quite simply closing again. While his expression does not much change, there is a sort of rising horror behind pondwater-blue eyes, and the boy swallows back any commentary with his gaze also dropping to the floor, brow furrowed slightly. Eyes scanning the class, N'shen takes note of Ers'lan's hand and nods to the brownrider. "Ers'lan?" he asks, coaxing the young man to offer his question.

Ers'lan flashes his eyes about the barracks, marking the faces of his clutch mates as much as their dragons situated about the room. When he is the only one amongst them that has a hand up, he hesitates holding it up, only keeping it there with the familiar whuffle encourging it higher. Once N'shen gets to him, his throat clears a bit, "Reckon the question be more of a concern…" he trails off, gathering his thoughts, "Iffin ya be so consumed by a flight, er, should we be worried bout making them seperate? Ya mention the female rider be tasked ta make her lifemate blood… as riders ta male dragons, should we be havin it in our heads ta force our 'mates off the female dragon durin it… or do they figure that out on their own?" There is tweak of his lips there, contemplating, "N' how high be it a safe 'catch' altitude?"

Golden eyes scan across the floor, not ever quite lifting from it as Ers'lan asks his question, brows furrow a touch, and lips are pursed once again. Malphath extends the length of his neck, snuffling at the back of the bronzerider, a soft low rumble emitting. Half turning where he sits, he finally does look up but only at his lifemate. Whatever is exchanged, is silent at least audibly, a few soft growls and shaking of head going on. At last the bronze snorts and thrusts his nose up in the air, receiving a soft sigh and a pinch of fingers at the bridge of the former harper's nose. There still remains no actual verbal commentary however, but whatever had been going on between the bonded pair had apparently been resolved. For now. A moment later, Py turns back towards the class and leans back on the palms of his hands, coolly regarding his own knee. Completely with scowl and obvious discomfort.

Iess cotinues to sit silently and listen, not looking at anyone. Shoulders hunch vaguelt, arms draped absently over his knees as he watches the floor, though he is paying attention, as his brow furrows now and again, his own cheeks colored very slightly. Behind him, Tscyleth is still curled, quiet and unmoving, though alert and paying attention as well- possibly more attention than his lifemate.

"Your dragon has instincts, and one of those instincts is to wait," N'shen explains gently to Ers'lan. "Dragons mate on the wing - it isn't part of their programming to even attempt to mate on the ground. If your dragon does attempt it, you can be assured that the green will take exception, and it won't be she who ends up torn up over it." Dark green eyes stare into Ers'lan's as the boy regards the weyrling solemnly. "Of course - it is always expected that you maintain some measure of control over your dragon," he adds, the ironic twist of his smile indicating he has, indeed, read Ers'lan's essay, "if only by urging him to stay calm and not rush too fast." He waves a hand. "As for safe height - well, the instinct of the female is to fly as fast and far as possible to escape pursuit - so provided she hasn't stuffed herself, she'll find it on her own. A general rule of thumb is around one hundred and fifty lengths or so - but it varies."

Ers'lan simply continues to regard N'shen, since he asked the question, there is a need to focus on the answer provided. Whatever the classmates are doing, his attention fixates only on them from the corner of his eye, with little comment drawn for mannerisms between lifemates and riders. Zhaoth for his part looks intrigued, if only for a moment, ending up nibbling on his front claws as if to dislodge dirt that had somehow gotten underneath of them, leathery wings rustling against his back as he fans them astride. Ers'lan cringes a little at the twist of N'shen's smile, eyes flicking away when the brown weyrling rider is unable to keep the humiliation off his face. Zhaoth is the one that keeps nudging him, as always, forward - literally this time as the brown bumps his nose against the top of Lan's shoulder. Finally, with a breath, Lan gives a lift of his chin to meet N'shen's stare, "Be that all make sense, aye. Jus seems iffin the mating by wing takes mere seconds, iffin they free fall down. Be that how long we expect ta be minglin on the ground?" A wry crinkle of his eyes shows at his last question.

P'rel is probably listening, though his eyes aren't moving from the fixed point they have settled upon. It must be super interesting with all the attention he gives it. Malphath's back to watching at least, having lowered his large frame to the ground, his head hovering a few feet above his lifemate's blond head. The youngest of the boys, by all of three months, is quiet. His expression remains hard, cheeks flushed, and jaw so clenched that the muscle twitching is actually visible upon close examination.

Dark eyes travel over P'rel, take in the signs of discomfort - but N'shen chooses not to add to it by calling attention to the young bronzerider, though he makes a gesture in his direction, one meant to be soothing. "What happens on the ground," the bronzerider replies wryly, "is up to the stamina of the participants. To be fair, it generally doesn't take as long as it might with a partner of your choosing. Which brings me to the next point - while it is true that the mating of the dragons affects the rider, it is not necessary for the riders of the dragons to be the ones involved with each other. During the first several flights, it is less likely that the rider will be in control enough to decide, but once a rider becomes accustomed to the overwhelming emotions, it is possible for one or both riders to choose different mates. Indeed, there are many riders who choose a partner to lock themselves in their weyrs with, so that they can control who they are sharing a bed with. While not necessarily considered polite," and N'shen coughs into his hand with an ironic smile, "it is acceptable. There is always an excess of willing partners for whichever rider ends up without."

Ers'lan guffaws a little at the mention of the rider's stamina, muttering in jest, "Reckon thar be no issue with that…" giving a bit of a wink to any of the fellow classmates who scowl at his pride. Hunching over his knees, his hands clasp in between, a brow lifting at the comment of being able to pick one's own partner, nodding appreciatively for that tid bit, commenting, "Reckon I be always thinkin it narh be up ta the riders for all the mingling. So we be having a choice. Tis good to know this. Why be some of the riders round here be making it sound like ya dun narh have a choice, iffin ya do?"

The bronzerider's unhappiness with the topic at least softens to a degree when by pure chance he happens to glance up at N'shen to catch the other's soothing gesture. Still, the frown was stubbornly in place upon the young man's face, just perhaps not so fiercely. This does change though as the Weyrlingmaster goes on, a measure of surprise developing upon P'rel's fine features when the dark-skinned man starts talking about partners and choice. Apparently this is something the usually well informed boy had not expected, unable to help as his eyes dart over to I'srie, if only for a second. Off they go however quite quickly, a great deal of tension released from his shoulders. Malphath makes his presence known again by rumbling softly, whuffling at the back of the blond's head. Chin lifts and the boy gazes upwards at the dragon now looking down, crimson eyes whirling and golden eyes distant. Another silent exchange.

I'srie is looking no less uncomfortable than P'rel, though his own pondwater-blue eyes flick up toward the assistant weyrlingmaster when the man speaks of choice. Lips press briefly into a line, and there is, admittedly, something of a an unconscious look towards P'rel. For just a second. Then he, too, is quickly looking away, focusing on N'shen once more, though his gaze is admittedly unfocused. Tscyleth has, thus far, been completely still and silent, attentive to the lesson, but mere shadow in the background. The blue cants his head, for just a moment, toward his lifemate, but there is little other sign the two are communicating.

"Most riders prefer to take what comes," N'shen replies easily. "And it's usually best to do so. The sex that comes from mating flights is… rough," he adds, with a downward jerk of his lips. "There's no subtlety, no pleasure. It is, at the end of it, base rutting. With no emotion involved other than lust, most riders prefer not to involve their mates. But some," and here he shrugs his shoulders, "do. And sometimes the rider of the female is one you cannot stand, or the rider of the female knows there will be a male's rider they do not wish to risk in their bed. I only lay that before you to know that there is an option." Shaking his head, he moves on.

"For those of you who ride female dragons, one of the greenriders, or perhaps Thea, will explain exactly what you must do to control your dragon. Male riders, you have less to worry about - a male does not experience the same kind of mating frenzy as a female, and thus is far less likely to try to eat rather than blood." He sighs, then directs his gaze over the class. "Are there any of you here who have not experienced intercourse with another?"

Ers'lan settles back a bit, mouth tightening now as jaws clench, questions having come to an end. The explanation given by N'shen seems to justify anything further that Lan would add to the conversation, rolling his hands together in his lap. The final question has Lan smirk, lifting a brow to see if anyone actually throws up their hand to admit to it. A murmur from Lan might be heard over the others in the class, "Best get to practicing befer ya lifemates force it upon ya…" Maybe this whispered to a familiar bluerider with a wink or a rival brownrider who scowls back at him for the comment, slighting the other brownrider's manlihood. What ever the case, Lan tries to keep his lips from tweaking up in an amused smirk all the same.

P'rel had at some point returned to the conversation the class was discussing, Malphath having laid down behind him, even if his long neck was snaked across the floor to allow his head to rest somewhat nearby his lifemate. At least his expression had mellowed to a degree by now, only mildly frowning, his brows furrowed about half way. Unhappiness to be certain remains, however. Gaze darts off as N'shen talks out the roughness of mating flight sex, and the emotionless detachment. He says nothing however, choosing instead his continued silence. However, the question soon follows towards the end, causes the boy's eyes to widen a touch and he flushes darkly. Now the awkwardness had come back in full force, as well as the depth of uncomfortableness. Tension floods back, causing his shoulders to hunch, and he's glaring at his own knee again.

I'srie's gaze re-focuses on N'shen. There is a furrow of his brows, and a quiet, "Rough?" mumbled under his breath, with a flick of a glance towards some of the girls in the weyrling class, before he frowns slightly and returns his attention to the assisstant weyrlingmaster. A considering look is given, though possibly more for the bronzerider's words than the bronzerider himself. Pondwater-blue eyes once again drift toward P'rel, but as N'shen asks that last question, there is a blink, Iess turning to arch a dubious brow at the man, just staring for a few seconds before a look round the class is given, and the weyrling has to point out, "..Shit, man. Room full of people, even if there are any, who'd admit to being a virgin in front of everyone?" There's far less tension in Iess than, possibly, some of the others, though the bluerider still isn't looking any more comfortable with the topic of flights. Sex though, that topic at least doesn't have him looking like he'd rather hide behind his lifemate.

"I was inexperienced," N'shen replies quietly. "I was barely thirteen when Taozyuth chose me, barely fourteen when he was old enough to chase. I was fortunate that two days before he caught Zuhth, I'd finally gotten up the courage to tumble a willing girl out of the caverns - but even having known sex, it was quite frightening when I was with Neyuni - and not just because she was nearly twice my age," he adds, with a quirk of his lips. "When your dragons are involved, there's no control, no finesse. The first time Taozyuth flew a green with a male rider, I almost hurt him. I'd never been with another male before, and I couldn't find the control to learn before I took. Fortunately, he had much more experience, and was able to help me through it. Even if you don't tell me," he adds, letting his eyes skip over all the weyrlings, "admit to yourself. Find a willing partner and practice. And ladies," he adds, giving the girls a harsh look, "believe me when I say that saving your first time for your first flight will be a mistake. A man, he just has to worry about going early. You have to worry about being /hurt/. Your dragons will be mature very soon. Because of this, we will be releasing the restrictions on sex soon. Think long and hard about this - it won't be long before the matter could be taken out of your control." Abruptly, his eyes flash to Ers'lan. "And you," he adds, coldly, "will apologize. There is nothing embarassing about being inexperienced. Wanting your first time to be special is an admirable quality - if not one that some riders can afford."

Ers'lan drops his head with an audible vexed sigh, the moment that N'shen calls him out for his choice words. There's a little shake of his head as if chiding himself before his chin lifts, taking a breath as serious word is sounded to the class, "Aye. I be sorry fer my words, keep forgettin I narh be with me old 'crew…" A sheepish glance down has him rubbing the back of his head, rolling it from side to side before the said hand slaps the topside of a knee. He does fold his arms across his chest however, pursing his lips to the side, "Reckon N'shen be right. Ya narh want ta be forced inta yer first experience. Best ta enjoy it…" he trails off now, thinking that sufficient to make amends to the weyrlingmaster. His lips, well, they seal tight after that. Zhaoth seems to have finished gnawing on a talon, looking up curiously now and then, yet distracted by Mab's braided hair, snuffing the back of her head. The giggle has Lan peering back over his shoulder, gesturing to Zhaoth to leave her alone. Zhaoth jolts back his head as if completely innocent, maw hefted up and all.

P'rel was stuck for a while in his reaction to the question that N'shen had asked, Malphath having tucked his muzzle up against the bronzerider's body. Perhaps a comforting gesture. It's seems that the boy was ignoring him, unmoving in his spot for a time, until a single hand drifts over to rest lightly against his inky snout. The color on his face does eventually fade to a light pink, even if the glare and frown remains just as much as the tension. He doesn't budge otherwise, not even a glance spared to the brownrider being chided or the apology that follows. It might even be that the former harper was lost in his own thoughts, so he might not of even noticed the exchange.

Iess' eyes widen for the personal story N'shen tells, brows arching nearly all the way to his hairline. He opens his mouth, as if he might ask something, and then seems to think better of it, just shaking his head a little. Though the mention of how old the woman was definitely has the bluerider looking sort of horrified. I'srie licks his lips, staring at the floor for some time, even as the assisstant weyrlingmaster goes on, waiting until there's a lull in the various conversations to ask ,while not looking up, "..What do mean.. by.. you almost hurt him?" He is so not looking at anyone. At all. Though the color which had previously been in his cheeks has disappeared, the boy having paled slightly toward the end there.

Nodding approval to Ers'lan, N'shen's features relax some, and at I'srie's question, the young bronzerider tosses the bluerider a sympathetic look, and shifts a bit uncomfortably himself. "Ah - well. You know how two men have sex together, yes?" He sure hopes so, because there's no way he's explaining that. "Well, when the top male is, uhm… nicely endowed… some preparation is necessary." Let's face it. N'shen is six-foot-five and, though slender, fairly well-formed. Most likely in every way. "You don't really have time for nicities during a mating flight - but there are things that can be done to ease the actual coupling, if you can keep your head long enough to do them." Yes, oil has many uses. "It's not something you have to worry about for yourself," he adds reassuringly to the bluerider - though there is a quick glance given to P'rel. "Just try to maintain as much control as you can, and you will have done the best you can. And remember, outside of a flight, there is plenty of time to be ready."

Ers'lan watches I'srie now, considering the lad's question. There is a common look of sympathy there, only it doesn't last as long as N'shen's, due to the fact that green Ostarath and his own lifemate are starting to bump noses with one another, adding in a batting of a paw for good measure. This has Lan distracted as Mab giggles again, the brownrider trying to wrinkle his nose at her to shush it, giving a nod like gesture toward N'shen. Mab clamps her hand over her mouth, while Lan fixes his eyebrows in a determined stare at Zhaoth, once again causing Zhaoth to jolt his head upward as if to ignore Ostarath. Ostarath does get the last nip in, causing Zhaoth to flare his nostrils in a loud snort. Ers'lan faces the front of a class with a frown, refocusing on the conversation long enough to listen to N'shen's mention of nicely endowed and the nicities of sex between men. Lan just drops his head with his hand coming to mop down his face, leaving his face to roll in the palm as he waits for the reaction from the rest of the class, a slight grimace on his face the entire time.

It's quite possible that P'rel was only half paying attention to what was being said, his face having taken on a particularly distracted expression. He must tune back in at some point though, because his eyes are widening again, the the size of dinner plates. Frozen in place, brows shoot up towards the line of his hair before crashing down into the deepest of furrows. The only movement after this, is the startled reaction for I'srie's question, even if it might appear as if his head wanted to lift up. If for no other reason than to stare at his fellow bronzerider. There is nothing however, until N'shen is mentioning that those sorts of things aren't anything that the bluerider had to worry about. That's when his chin lifts and he does stare at the weyrlingmaster, and so catches the glance he's given. It wasn't possible for the boy's eyes to widen further, but he does drastically change color. From slightly pink, to very nearly purple all the way up to the tips of his ears. Shock, misery and utter embarrassment flutter across his face, before he draws in a breath and turns his head away, growling softly.

There is, thankfully, a slight jerk of his head, the bearest nod for knowing about sex between men, though the former holder does color again, angular features touched by a deep pinkening hue. Especially when the bronzerider goes on about ..size. In fact, there might be a soft choking sound deep in his throat, but Iess doesn't look up, or at anyone, so he misses what the other weyrlings are doing, including Py's epic color-changing over there. Another slow nod, at the further explanation, hunched shoulders untensing very slowly.

"Hmm." N'shen eyes P'rel, though says nothing about his rapid changes of color. "So. Any questions before I release you? Oh." Frowning, the bronzerider falls silent. "I have one personal request for you guys. Children. They happen - yes, we have means of preventing them. Herbs. Between. But they happen. Please, for the love of Faranth, if you bear or sire a child and don't want it, find it a parent who does. There are many women in the lower caverns who love children and will happily raise flight children. Don't neglect your child simply because you feel a duty to raise it yourself." Shifting uncomfortably, the bronzerider stares down at his lap for a second, then abruptly raises his head. "So. Questions?"

Ers'lan takes a moment to consider the topic of children, contemplating that as if he never pondered such a thing before. Even with the additional subject, Lan does have a last comment, "We be free from restrictions… now? Be it include drinkin as well? Reckon I be hearin that riders do use drinkin ta come down from a flight they be havin lost."

P'rel has absolutely nothing to say, at all. Save for his initial dragon forced reply at the start, he has said very little, and that seems to be a continuing theme. Malphath practically has his head resting in his lifemate's lap, eyes closed for the soft soothing caress the boy was giving almost absently to one of the dragon's eyeridges. At least his color seems to be fading, increasingly so at mention of children. That brings a scowl back to the pretty boy's face, in fact it's almost a snarl. Nothing to add still beyond a passing glance towards N'shen, that blond head shakes lightly back and forth, having missed the eying he'd been getting from the other bronzerider.

I'srie does look up finally, brows arching up slightly for N'shen's words about children, the bluerider canting his head with a curious look for the assistant weyrlingmaster, but only nodding quietly without comment. As for questions, Iess hesitates, and eventually just shakes hs head a little, shifting back toward his lifemate.

"Dismissed, then. I'll let you know when you're free to start… enjoying the benefits of grown lifemates." N'shen's eyes dance with amusement as he unfolds himself and pushes himself to his feet, rubbing at the small of his back. "And if you need to talk to me, just have your dragon bespeak Taozyuth, and I will be happy to listen." His eyes flicker rapidly over the bronze and bluerider, before lingering on one of the shyer greenriders. Then, without another word, he turns and walks out.

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