First Night for Weyrlings

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.

On the large couch claimed by E'on's bronze Turlath, the dragon has adjusted during the night to protectively loop tightly around E'on, long tail curving around the young male protectively, the tip curled around one of his human's legs. E'on, though, is awake, and while the stuffed-full bronze is still sleeping off the stress of his hatching, E'on is very very slowly extracating himself, easing to sit up, and gently start to unwrap the secure tail, trying to stretch the kinks out of his limbs from an awkward sleeping position.

Some have had easier nights than others, either adjusting swiftly or just too shell-shocked to really react to their new lot in life. Ashkeia is not one of these; dazed, disoriented and thoroughly discombobulated from the moment Khaumith wrapped her in his wings, her night hasn't exactly been restful, though sheer exhaustion on both their parts eventually allowed her to sleep. Emerging from beneath the enveloping drape of a pale brown wingsail with a groan, she looks rather a mess. Rubbing her hands over her face, she peers around blearily. "Nnng. So it wasn't just a crazy dream."

E'on is still busy trying to get the tail off his leg, when he uncurls it the baby dragon tightens back up again. Slightly frustrating, but at least he's not wrapped in limbs otherwise. E'on finally sits on the edge of the couch and removes his sandal, and sneaks his foot up and out of the loop, putting the shoe back on afterwards. E'on doesn't look messy, just a bit… crumpled, sleeping in your clothes type of look. "I'm still not really sure," E'on observes in a low, quiet tone to Ashkeia when she speaks, a rueful laugh under the comment.

Movement is what draws Ashkeia's attention to E'on's efforts at extricating himself, though even once focused she still looks sort of blank. "I would think, in a dream, I wouldn't feel this awful," she notes wryly. Yawning, she stretches her arms up above her head, back arching before she relaxes again into a slump. "Rel— What is it, now? R'on? I can't remember; sorry."

E'on stands finally and stretches his own back out with a grunt as something makes a snapping noise. Oof. "Ah, better," the male observes, with a deep released breath, eyes moving more solidly to Ashkeia, and the light pine brown dragonet beyond her. "I'll have to get used to it, too. He's decided on 'E'on'," he says, with a loose gesture of left hand back towards the sleeping bronze, with a perhaps bizarrely affectionate tone; bizarre just since it wouldn't have been used in Ashkeia's company before, not that it doesn't suit him, but perhaps something that the mix of exhaustion and strangeness of the dragon's connection has brought out to the surface.

Ashkeia winces a little at the sound of that snap, her brows furrowing together. "E'on," she repeats, nodding. "I'll try not to mess it up." The tone does make her tilt her head slightly, the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I wonder why some of them choose, and others don't…." she muses, with a quick, hard to read look sent over her own shoulder. Her expression caught somewhere between trepidation and affection, and wrapped in uncertainty. "His colouring is certainly impressive," she continues after a moment, with a gesture of her hand to indicate that she's talking about Turlath. "Did you think— I mean, at any point, did you ever really think you'd wind up here?"

"If you do, I might not even notice," E'on observes honestly, to the mention of messing up his name. If the dragonlet calls him that constantly inside his head, though, no doubt he'll adapt fairly quickly to the 'nickname.' "I don't know," he adds, thoughtfully. When she comments about the color, though, at first he grins briefly, until he realizes she means /Turlath/, and then turns his head to look, as if he hadn't really noticed or paid attention to -that-. "His mind is, too," E'on says, but not in a fashion of bragging, more observational. "He's…. intense, but not…" He can't phrase it, and gives up. It's easier to think over her question, resting onto the edge of the couch again, stretching his legs out in front. "I think it was easier to think that some of you guys would have dragons, but myself, no, I didn't really imagine it that way," he answers. "Maybe just since it… changes everything. Doesn't it?"

Ashkeia chuckles softly, shaking her head. "That — and everything else, really — is certainly going to take some getting used to." Slowly, she finally starts to edge away from the still-slumbering Khaumith, cringing slightly as the brown chooses that coincidental moment to snort and shift a wing. All's well in dragon dreamland though, and she breathes a sigh as she finishes straightening up and steps out of the couch. "Oh yeah," she agrees of change. "I wasn't even— I never thought this would actually happen to me. I was ready to go back to my normal life, start my journeyman project, and just think of this as… well, a bit of ill-thought silliness," she confesses. After a small hesitation, she asks, "Can you still, uh… feel him, I guess? Even sleeping?"

"I don't know if I was -ready- to go back… or even if that's how things would go, or if I'd end up standing on another hatchery somewhere else… I guess I was 'ready' to go wherever I ended up, but this, well, I guess we know for SURE now, which is… nice," E'on considers, lifting a hand to rub back into the side of his hair. It's loose and sloppy; the back is still braided, but the front has come all out and forward. He takes the time to pull the braid out and rake fingers into the now-wavy red mess. "I feel.. something. But not thoughts. Just that he… exists," E'on answers, after only briefly thinking about it. "…I expect we might not have long, though. I'm trying to decide if I could make a quick bath before he wakes up, because I feel like I've got sand in my ears," E'on says with a quick flash of enigmatic smile.

"That makes my head hurt," Ashkeia notes in a weakly joking manner. Adding more seriously, with her hand lifting to press fingertips lightly to her temple, "Worse than it already does. One candidacy would have been enough for me I think, if he hadn't—" She's really struggling with completing a whole sentence. "I wouldn't have done it again. Not that it's an issue." She glances down ruefully, fingers pushing further back to scratch vigorously at her scalp. With a sypathetic grimace, "Tell me about it. I'm a little afraid to risk it, myself. After last night." Khaumith was, in a word, possessive. Though Ash losing her dinner in an empty meat bucket probably had a little to do with that, as well. "But he feels… heavy? Does that make sense? Like he might be out for a while longer." Pause. "Him. Shells."

"I have a feeling that this might be… quite a bit like other little young creatures… that when you DO have time to eat or wash, you'd… better take it, because you don't know when they'll be up all night," E'on says, falling back on his time within the beastcraft. Who knew the knowledge would help here. "He's …heavy? Yes. It makes sense. I have my own heavy sleeper here, too," E'on says, with a relief in…. that she's with him, on how this other presence feels. "You'll be fine. Men aren't an entirely scary," E'on teases her gently, but makes a decision, and stands, moving towards her, clearly intending to keep moving. "C'mon, let's clean up quick," he suggests, offering a wide hand to the similarly tall girl, a perk of spark in his gaze for a brief adventure. "Better than sitting here wishing we had, when they sleep for hours with their full stomachs," E'on shrugs, though some of it may simply be that he knows the young bronze will be just fine, even if he wakes and has to wait a few minutes for E'on's return: a strange pride, towards the young dragon.

Ashkeia nods quickly. "Yeah, you're probably right. Augh." Another thrilling prospect that hasn't entirely sunk in yet, though it can be rather difficult to think of a creature almost half again as long as she is tall as a /baby./ Glancing up she flashes E'on a quick smile, appreciative for both the understanding and the tease. "It'd probably be just as strange even if he was a she. Their minds… aren't really like ours, are they? Regardless of gender. —Good plan." She turns as he nears, reaching out to meet his hand with her own and fall into step. "If we're really lucky, maybe we can even snag breakfast of our own on the way past."

The two quickly race off to get baths in, and perhaps a bite to eat, before returning to the dragon babies.

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