Smart Enough to Be Scared

Xanadu Weyr - Training Grounds
A wide, grassy expanse, nestled into the gentle bowl shape where something's taken a bite out of the mountain. It's high above the level of the beach, and there's a good eastern view of the lake and a long path leading down to that sandy shore. Granite cliffs surround it on the other sides.

While much of the grounds are left in their natural state, one area has been trampled and trodden by enough feet that the grass struggles to grow. A running track circles a set of equipment - straw dummies with wooden frames, obstacles of various sizes and shapes, and targets for flaming, archery, and whatever else.

There's a dragon-sized opening to the south that leads to the cavernous weyrling barracks, and a smaller tunnel to the northeast - large enough for dragons newly emerged from the sands, but quickly outgrown by hatchlings who are then forced to take the long way around - at least, until they learn to spread their wings and fly. Between them in both position and size, a jagged crack in the stone leads to a dim cave with the sound of water.

Some dragons struggled with the third month of weyrlinghood as actual (mild) structure and physically active requirements were introduced in the form of daily stretches and walks, and finally toward the end of the month runs. There is one dragon for whom the third month has been immeasurably easier than the two that game before - you know, those months that focused on SQUISHY BORING EFFEMINATE NONSENSE having to do with the bond between weyrling and dragon. One guess. Okayokayokay, it was an easy one. But Glorioth is delighted by this third month, considering that he has been literally running everywhere since he shelled, basically. The boring parts are done for today, stretches and wing flares (don't forget that he also travels with those big ol' things mantled at the perfect heroic angle, too). He's suffered less in the way of soreness and strains, although there are some uses of his wings that even he hadn't yet tackled when they were introduced this month. All this physical activity with siblings has resulted in giving F'yr time to actually read, and reading is what he's doing now, settled on one of the hay bales of the obstacle course, not far from V'ro, while he helps "manage" the dragons engaged in more active pursuits. They've all been at this a while by this point, though, so there's no real surprise when F'yr finally puts a page of notes between two pages of the book on rider etiquette and sets it to the side to do some gentle stretches of his own (now that the restrictions on FINALLY HEALED ribs have been lifted).

Koth may not have Glorioth's well-earned reputation for GO GO GO, but she does share her lifemate's difficulty in staying still for too long. And so the increased, directed activity has been suiting her reasonably well. Especially once she can just run and not do all the dumb, pointless exercises she's forced to do against her better judgement. And obviously as a three month old dragon, her judgement is pretty amazing. And V'ro is more than happy to let her do her thing now that the activity is a little more freeform in how she does it. He sits there, book in his lap, trying to absorb information, but at this point he's mostly just staring at a page and reading the same paragraph over and over again before he gets distracted. This time his distraction is F'yr stretching.

For what it's worth, fair Koth, your judgment will almost never fail to be worse then Glorioth's. And in his inestimable wisdom, there's nothing wrong with a little stretching even if he embellishes his with bug-death and other leap-and-fight FOE-SLAUGHTERING MANEUVERS he really should be too clumsy to pull off but just isn't. And OOPS, WAS THAT KOTH'S TAIL? HE'S NOT EVEN SORRY. That's really just an excuse for Glorioth to pounce Koth properly and wrestle. Even if he's much bigger at this point. And this is exactly why there needs to be human lifemates right here. "Glori, cut it out!" F'yr calls, impotently, for not at all the first time in the last twenty minutes, let alone the last hour. (Those head blow counts are racking up fast these days.) "You're suppose to be running. I see a foe!" It's always that last that works, so it's a wonder that F'yr doesn't just lead with it, but then he doesn't adore the necessity of frequently misleading his lifemate. But if Koth hasn't already thrown Glorioth off, it will get him aimed in another direction, wings unfurled and RUNNING ALWAYS WITH THE RUNNING AND THE SHOUTING, « ONWAAAAaaaaaAAAAaaaaRD! » in whatever direction F'yr thought at him. F'yr sighs as he watches his lifemate and then, book plucked up, he goes to sit beside V'ro on V'ro's hay bale but he doesn't open his book. He stares down at his ever-increasingly worn boots; he does spend an awful lot of time running and leaping and doing things with that lifemate of his these days (mostly with the most childishly gleeful smile on his face; what a dope).

The bronze might be bigger, but the green is smarter. Or if not smarter, though she totally is, she has a lot more to prove for herself. Koth doesn't back down from wrestling Glorioth, which probably does not help matters at all, and once he's off of her, she snaps her cute little— er, terribly ferocious jaws at him and chases along in his foe-finding wake. V'ro seems reasonably unconcerned with the dragons, especially now that they're just running again, and he side-eyes the other weyrling when he sits down closer. "Thanks," is all he says, and then he's looking back down at the pages in the book in his lap.

"His fault, my responsibility." F'yr shrugs off the gratitude. "I'm just glad she seems to like to tussle with him. He's tried it with a couple of the others and they just…" He shakes his head. "It ends badly." Usually not in ichorshed, but there have been some moments - moments that don't slow Glorioth down at all. Pain is encouragement after all, right? Blue eyes track the active dragons as they go and go, and then he shifts his focus back to the young man next to him, looking over his shoulder at the book in front of him. "I'm glad I'm getting a little more sleep now," he says idly as he plucks one straw out of the hay bale and toys with it between his fingers in idle, fidgety fashion. This is probably the bronzerider trying to strike up a casual conversation between himself and the greenrider. "I don't think I'd be able to remember even half of the stuff in these books if I wasn't." He glances toward the dragons again and then back to V'ro,"Are you getting more?" Sleep, he probably means.

"She's a fighter. I know it's hard to tell by comparison sometimes." And it's hard to tell if V'ro is teasing or just stating a fact or what. He looks up from the book he's not reading to watch the green chasing the bronze, marbled wings half unfurled to keep her balance. "That's probably why they wait to make us learn all this busy work until now. And it's just going to get worse," muses the green weyrling, then, "Yeah, she's been sleeping longer." If not better. They're both pretty restless sleepers.

F'yr's getting more sleep, but possibly not enough to parse subtle humor if it is humor at all, so it's probably little surprise that he responds soberly, "No. She's very brave and cunning." His lifemate may be completely uninterested in any valor besides his own, but the human half of the pairing is both interested in the other weyrlings and their dragons and paying attention, when he can afford to. He seems to see Koth, at any rate, as much as he now sees V'ro. "Would you like to study together as things get harder? I mean… I'm sure we'll all be working together from time to time, but I'm sure there will be things you grasp that I don't and I thought you might be able to help me. If you have the time and are willing." His eyes fluttered away from V'ro at some point, but they do come back to his face at the end.

V'ro's probably annoyed that F'yr's response makes him smile, so he only lets it linger for a moment, and then he's closing the book and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Sure, I guess. If you think there's something I'll actually be able to help with." He sounds skeptical, but he's not above an excuse for spending time with the blond, even if he can seem fickle on whether he actually wants to at any given moment. "And I'm sure something will come up that you can help me with."

F'yr purses his lips slightly, apparently considering. "Well, once upon a time I was the expert at mucking out stalls and the like, but…" He spreads his arms, book still in one hand. NOW THEY'RE ALL EXPERTS. He flicks a glance toward V'ro, possibly gauging to see if now is a good time to make jokes. His lips do tug just a little at the edges like he wants to smile, but isn't sure this isn't time for SeriousFace talk. "I'm sure there's lots of things you'll understand better than I do. Particularly with diplomacy and things. And I'd — well. I know my want to go back to Quasar probably won't be popular with Glori, but if it happens, I'd like to be able to pull my weight in a role as a rider instead of just an assistant. Or as both," as it happens. There aren't any rules that say riders can't be assistants, are there? Given Glori, he may be nursing wild fantasies indeed. "I feel like you've probably seen and known a lot more kinds of people than I ever have. I —" HE SHOULD STOP THERE, BUT HE DOESN'T. He blushes, instead, and manages, quietly, "I don't usually see what's really happening right in front of me. It's not good."

"I'm not sure other people would consider me diplomatic." Manipulative, sure, but that's not the same thing, right? "I'll help you in whatever ways I can, F'yr." And V'ro means it, whether or not he thinks it's necessary. "What don't you see happening right in front of you?" he wonders, maybe even just wondering if F'yr knows. Or if that's the problem! "I've known plenty of people." He'll leave it at that. "I haven't even really thought about what wing I'd want to join."

No one tell V'ro that that's really what F'yr means. He might get a sad face about it. "I'll take whatever you can teach me." The blond's reply is just as earnest. Maybe they're having a moment with the way blue eyes lock with green. The rest is more complicated so it may be no wonder that his gaze slips away. It's down to the book this time and then over to their dragons, starting to rruuuuuun back this way. THE EVIL-DOER MUST BE COMING THIS WAY! Or something. Maybe, just maybe, F'yr is silently feeding Glorioth distracting suggestions. "I don't see danger. I don't see people's intentions for what they are. I don't make judgments quickly enough for it to impact my actions, most times. Wouldn't know a criminal from a friend. Wouldn't know which criminals are useful and which are dangerous." He frowns slightly, looking at nothing. "Glorioth never listens to me anyway," like… ever, "but I'd at least like to be able to see a situation for what it is in case it is of some kind of real danger to him." Given that one day he will be a full-grown bronze (EVEN IF ONE OF THE SMALLEST ON PERN), it's unlikely to be a tremendous concern, but even when Glori is full-grown, his lifemate will probably worry about him. He glances toward V'ro, maybe checking to see where his own feet are? DID THEY FIND HIS MOUTH YET? He has been opening it a lot. If it doesn't seem too bad, he'll even offer, "I always sort of assumed you'd be in Comet. A lot of travel, a lot of freedom to do things and excuses to be everywhere, see everything. Sort of like trading, I guess. But maybe that's not the kind of thing you want anymore?"

Gasp! V'ro would certainly be surprised if F'yr of all people called him manipulative out loud. Green eyes are drawn to green hide, watching Koth running after Glorioth as they head back this way, fondness for both his lifemate and how much energy she's expending. "To be fair," starts V'ro with a glance over at the blond, "That's part of why I like you. When we first met, I thought you were— I didn't realize how, just, genuine you are." Simple. He means simple. "It was a nice change. When I realized it was real, anyway." As for Comet, "Maybe, yeah. Could be nice to pick up a craft, though, too." He shrugs. No decisions have been made. And thinking too far into the future isn't exactly one of his strongest skills.

"I don't think I'd end up being less myself," SIMPLE STEF'YR he means, "for being able to say, see the intention of the man about to stab me before I feel the knife. Not that I expect you to teach me that. I'm hoping Ila will, when we're allowed to do self-defense again. But other kinds of intentions I guess. I still don't… I don't understand flirting," his cheeks touch in a blush again, "and a lot of jokes go over my head." But not every joke, and there's where things get misleading. "You…" He looks to the greenrider now from where his eyes had quite naturally strayed to his lifemate. "You're sharp." He admires that, V'ro. Hear it in his voice? It's there. He tilts his head to look at the other young man. "Were you smart enough to be afraid of some of the things in that house prank Risa and R'hyn set up?"

There's a brief wince at the mention of stabbing. Or maybe just the knife. And even if it's not super obvious in his expression, it's enough in his head that even Koth slows to look over at them before she realizes Glorioth is getting TOO FAR ahead and she takes off again. But the greenrider moves on quickly. "I'm not sure anyone understands flirting," V'ro will allow. Which is kind of a joke. Easily overshadowed by F'yr saying a nice thing about him. It makes him smile in a way he doesn't very often. It's sweet. "What do you mean smart enough? I was scared shitless most of the way through that sharding nightmare even though I knew they wouldn't purposefully hurt us."

« AHAHAHAHAHA HA HAHAHAAH! » Yep. There he goes, Koth. He's got longer legs and is shameless about using them. Anyone tired yet? NOT GLORI. Never Glori. F'yr's eyes linger on V'ro's face, but he doesn't comment, not right now about knives or stabbing. "A couple of people have tried to explain it to me. Apparently I do it, even." But he's unaware. SURPRISE! "I wasn't scared. It didn't even occur to me that I maybe should have been until Evi started vomiting." His nose wrinkles because that was not a good moment for him and time hasn't made the memory of it any more pleasant. "And even then, my fear was for her, not for myself. I'm not sure why it hit her the way it did, but she just … she shut down. Until she didn't." He stares at the ground, worry lines etching his face. "Anyway," Evi's problems aren't here nor there in this discussion. "It wasn't until I went back with Percy, after already having been through with Evi, that I felt scared about anything, and it was scared in the way I was scared I'd drown that time they put my mattress in the cow pond while I was still asleep. I knew they wouldn't let me die," DID HE? "Not really, but it was the kind of fear that's because I ended up in a situation where maybe they couldn't stop it if it started to happen." And he's gotten way off track and seems to realize it. "The point is that you were smart enough to be scared for yourself because of the what ifs and I didn't even see the possibility of danger until someone else reacted to it."

"A lot of people do it without realizing it. It's just a thing people do. And some people mistake being nice to someone as flirting. And you're nice to pretty much everyone." So, maybe even F'yr can put two and two together there. "Toward the end, I was less scared and just wanting to get out, I guess." In 'fuck it' mode. "I don't know. I don't think trusting that people won't hurt you is a bad thing. You do learn pretty quickly when you trust the wrong person." Don't ask how V'ro knows. Then again, F'yr is still talking to him, so maybe the blond is just a lost cause. "Anyway. I'll help." However he can.

Maybe, V'ro. Maybe. F'yr's lips part then press together like he's thinking better of something he might have said, might have asked. His eyes flick toward distracted baby dragons but when he looks back to the greenrider, it does seem that he's thought better of whatever it was. He listens, of course. He always does, when his mind isn't wandering. "Maybe. Maybe I don't." Though that doesn't seem to have to do with V'ro. There's a slight frown on F'yr's face briefly, and this time it's the bronze's turn to whip his head around. What's this, F'yr? A FOE? Blue eyes rise to meet swiftly whirling ones that definitely have a different tinge to them. But it doesn't last. He goes back to the game, the run, with only one more glance at F'yr. "Maybe we can make it a game. We can find somewhere to sit where people are and I can guess from their body language and whatever we can hear of the tone of their voice what's going on, and you can correct me." He flashes a smile at V'ro. People watching, with a twist.

"So long as I'm not the only person you do that with." Wow, V'ro, make up your mind. "I'm pretty good at picking out easy targets, but that doesn't mean I'm great at reading everyone. Getting other peoples' takes would be good. Shards, maybe I should do that, too." For different reasons than what F'yr wants, almost certainly. "That does sound like a lot of fun, though. I can't wait to bring you to a Gather." Even if F'yr would probably get all weird if he wanted to really get into the Gather by stealing stuff off of people.

F'yr's lips purse slightly, although perhaps he doesn't equate one thing with another. He does say, "Maybe Ru'ien would be good. He knows riders and crafters." That's a cross-section of the population that isn't covered by either of their personal knowledge bases that he knows of. He might be considering the other weyrlings, or even just friends because he adds, "N'on, too, maybe. Maybe." Something about that makes his brows knit with concern, enough that Glorioth pauses again to look back at his lifemate and it makes F'yr's, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to my first gather," a little more muted of a response than he probably intends. "Have to learn to between first, I guess, though." Because that's not intimidating at all. He looks over toward Glorioth and his cheek shifts like he's chewing the inside of it in further worry. "Are you worried about doing well as a rider?" He is, obviously. Does he need to say so aloud when it's very plainly on his face when he looks at V'ro?

If V'ro's nose wrinkles just slightly at the mention of Ru'ien, it's probably completely unconscious. It's not like he doesn't like Ru'ien or anything, after all. He's just not sold on this whole sharing thing, and Ru'ien is basically him but better in almost every way that matters. Green eyes shift away to track Koth again. Watching his lifemate surely helps ease his insecurities. "Not really, I guess. I haven't thought that far ahead very much. And I know Koth is going to be an amazing dragon, so I guess I've always just figured she'd make it easy to be a good rider." He shrugs at his logic. Don't look too closely at it and everything's just fine.

WOW, V'RO, MAKE UP YOUR MIND. This was your idea. If F'yr notices anything, he doesn't say anything about it. And if he could read minds or narrative, F'yr would have a wealth of things to say about the differences between the two curly-haired greenriders. BUT HE CAN'T, SO HERE WE ARE. "Koth already is an amazing dragon," is a good start from the man who can't read minds as his eyes turn to the dragons. "I feel like I'm going to fuck it up. Or he is. Or we both are together. So I guess that we'd be together in it would be something." There's a little sigh for that and although he looks, briefly, lovestruck in that sappy way some riders have of looking at their dragons with far too much indulgence and adoration, he clearly isn't blind to some of the drawbacks of their particular personalities and partnership. "Reading will help," he says with a sigh, looking down at the book. "I thought I missed reading, and I do. But it's always different when it's stuff you have to read."

Look, the last time he said what he was thinking about with all that stuff, they basically argued. Who wants to do that again! V'ro smiles at someone else saying Koth is amazing, though. That will always win points with him, probably. "You aren't going to to fuck it up. The worst that could happen is you die in a betweening accident. And if that happens, you won't care because you're dead." V'ro should definitely never be on the weyrlingmaster team. "Anything short of that is wildly succeeding, as far as I'm concerned." As for reading? "Have you tried reading any adventures to him?"

Blue eyes rise from the book to look at V'ro. Are they about to argue again ANYWAY? The grin says nope. "Such optimism," F'yr returns dryly before a low chuckle begins, a little more than a breath, but not as big as a real laugh. "I really meant more the whole rider thing. Which betweening is a part of. But I'm pretty sure I can fuck it up as a rider in much worse ways that I'd have to live through and deal with. I mean, you've seen how good I am at that kind of thing." If they can't laugh about it, they're probably hopeless. The look of amusement that he shoots V'ro says he can laugh about it, if V'ro can. "Not yet. I made up new words to a lullaby one night, now I have to do it every night he remembers that I'm capable. I need access to a large supply of adventures if I'm going to start that because it would be just the sort of thing he would remember," out of everything he could remember.

"What would you fuck up as a rider?" V'ro is genuinely curious. What does F'yr know that V'ro should have anxiety about, too! "If you aren't fucking things up, you probably aren't doing anything interesting, anyway. I'd rather fuck things up than not do things." Exhibit: them, for instance? "I guess that would get a little complicated. But maybe you'd read so many that you could just start writing your own. Or reread old ones that he doesn't remember as well. I haven't really tried reading to Koth, but I feel her paying attention when I'm reading sometimes."

F'yr considers, "Knowing who to show what kind of respect to? People aren't very traditional here, but that's probably not true most places. It wasn't what we were taught at home." And sure, C'con has them Weyrlingmaster and Sir him, but this Weyr is also led by 'call me Risa.' And F'yr, of all people, probably has particular problems having worked in the office where many shenanigans ensued. "I might mess up talking with other places, too, or official representatives. I mean, the most official thing I ever did was be an assistant, and that was mostly trying to find missing papers." Or making papers go missing. Whichever. "And getting klah or whatever people needed." Obviously it was a glamorous job. "I think I'd like to do something important someday." And then he freezes. This, V'ro, is the moment where it sinks in that since his lifemate is a bronze the possibility exists, however slim, that he could possibly end up a Weyrleader in the distant future. Color drains from F'yr's face and the game of chase is over because Glorioth is barreling back their way. He has some distance to cover though, so use your time well, V'ro. It's about to be interrupted by a hero coming to the aid of his F'YRFUL FRIEND.

"I'm sure we'll learn how to deal with all of that before they set us free. The fact that you want to do right by all that is already more than some of us can— F'yr? Are you okay?" Because V'ro has noticed the change in his fellow weyrling, on top of Koth complaining that Glorioth is running the wrong way. "You're gonna be okay, man, we've got lots of time to figure all this shit out." He's super helpful. But at least he is trying, right?

Possibly the only reason that Glorioth has learned to occasionally communicate silently with his rider is for moments where F'yr's effeminate sensibilities might prove to be an embarrassment for the dragon's dragon. Too wide blue eyes are locked on the approaching bronze and it's clear F'yr is trying to steady his breathing. Only … Glorioth has that look. Dragons can't have many looks, but this is his encouragement face. "Watch my book," is F'yr's quick request before he's leaving it and the precious, time-consuming notes tucked within there beside V'ro while he, himself, leaps up and takes off at a run. Given that Glorioth's encouragement can be quite painful, really, F'yr ought to be running away from his dragon, but no. No, the big idiot is charging the bronze in return. There's no way this can end poorly.

Watch the book? V'ro looks down at the book, but as soon as F'yr is taking off to meet his dragon all clash of the titans style, the green weyrling is suddenly on his feet as though he would be able to do literally anything to keep the bronze pair from doing something stupid. Koth's reaction is less helpful, she's still barreling after Glorioth, bugling like she's announcing someone's impending but awesome doom or something. She won't, at least, get too close to the boys as they get closer to each other. "What the fuck!" is V'ro's yelling after all of them from his safe position by the hay and books.

Listen, V'ro. Sometimes the only answer is violence. For a time, this was all one-sided ENCOURAGEMENT from Glorioth to F'yr, but now that F'yr's ribs are healed, he's launching himself at the much, much, much larger bronze's lowered head and — well, boys be boys. There goes a good wrastle. It's obviously something the bronze tempers himself to do, lest he have to wait for his rider to heal again, although there have been smaller mishaps before. It's brief for all that it seems to be a genuinely intense contest that ends with F'yr on the ground a bronze nose pressed into his belly. « AHAHAHAHAHA HAHA! » and there's no more explanation than that as Glorioth goes charging off again. For a time, F'yr doesn't move more than it takes to breathe and stare at the sky. If he were really hurt there probably would be some greater distress on the bronze's part, but then, this is Glorioth, so… maybe not.

Koth cheers them both on. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT! She doesn't cheer for one over the other, but obviously Glorioth has every advantage over F'yr, and she's not biased or anything. V'ro just watches in horror, even though he knows (at least really hopes) that the bronze isn't going to squish his rider again now that he's MUCH BIGGER. When Glorioth charges off again, Koth glances from F'yr to V'ro, and then she's chasing after her clutchmate again, singing his praises (if that's how he wants to take it) in an off key trilling bugle. V'ro hesitates, then he's wandering out closer to where F'yr is laying until he's standing over the bronzerider and looking down at him. "You good?"

What else could Koth possibly be singing about? Glorioth will join her in congratulating himself on a bravely fought battle. It doesn't matter that F'yr was smaller. Glorioth is not sizeist. In fact, KOTH, YOU'RE SMALLER. And that's all it takes to initiate a more evenly matched wrestle between the dragons. F'yr looks up at V'ro and maybe there's something wrong because his look is a little vacant, but no, that's just his face right now. He sighs, rolling to the side before he pushes himself up and starts dusting himself off. "Fine. He goes easier on me if he doesn't have to chase me down," says the voice of experience. "He likes a good fight." His eyes go to the dragons before he moves to get to his feet and keep dealing with his new coating of dirt. "I made the mistake of feeling insecure." AREN'T YOU GLAD YOUR DRAGON DOESN'T ATTACK YOU WHEN YOU'RE FEELING INSECURE, V'RO?

While Koth might have seen the unfair advantage Glorioth had over F'yr, even if she didn't object to it, she doesn't seem at all to realize he might also have an advantage over her. Size means nothing! V'ro is much more aware of the size difference, but seems to trust the baby dragons to NOT actually hurt each other. Or to at least learn from their mistakes if they do. That might say something about him. Since he doesn't have to help F'yr up or anything, and in fact doesn't even offer before the other weyrling is on his feet again, V'ro only watches the blond, stepping back as the dusting happens. "You're amazing, though, you know that, right?"

The man blinks at V'ro once before his cheeks are suffusing with color. Is it any wonder that F'yr clears his throat and turns his back to the other man. "Would you mind getting my back of the worst?" The dirt and dried grass and whatever else might be there. "It's nice that you think so," he manages after a moment. There's something about that phrase that quietly simply doesn't accept the previous words but in a polite way that doesn't overtly deny them, so they don't have to fight about it. Glorioth does have the size advantage and he is shameless about using it. He's not exactly trying to hurt Koth, although he's not being especially careful, either. It's not as good, going after Koth, as it would to go after something he was really allowed to MURDER, but such is the sad, sad state of his life right now. Poor Glorioth.

V'ro puffs out a breath when F'yr turns away from him, but he helps brush off the dirt and grasses with a few quick swipes of his hand. He's not even sorry if he touches the other weyrling's butt. "You don't have to believe me, you know. But I'm good at reading people, remember, so I know what I'm talking about." So there, take that. He even shoves F'yr's shoulder before brushing his hand off on his own pants and looking around the blond toward the dragons. They're fine. Everything's fine. If Glorioth does manage to get a little too rough with Koth, she's not above more talon if she thinks she needs an edge. But dragonhide is thick, right, so they should be okay.

F'yr… just doesn't answer. He doesn't tense up as V'ro helps clear the dirt and grass; the words more uncomfortable than the gestures. "Thanks," is ambiguous enough that it could be for either words or gesture, but it's pretty easy to guess which since the blond looks more troubled than relieved. He gives a glance toward the bronze and green and starts to trudge back toward his book. "I ought to distract him with something." Nevermind that Koth seems to have him in hand despite the fact that the fight is getting more rambunctious and is probably going to result in some scrapes and maybe scratches. If they can steer clear of gouges, everything should be fine?

The green weyrling frowns after F'yr, but lets it go without further comment. Instead, he trails after the blond, if only to fetch his own book. "Maybe," he murmurs about distracting the bronze, especially since he continues, "I'll take her for a walk to the beach. Maybe they'll calm down if they're separated." He adds a quiet, "Sorry," too, as he grabs his book, and then he's turning to start heading toward the beach. Koth hasn't quite disengaged from the bronze yet, but she does start squirming to free herself of his honor and glory.

Nnnno, that's not right. It's not going to work for F'yr, who will stop shy of the books and reach for V'ro's arm, his touch gentle, but it's not a there-and-gone grip, it's one that lingers. "No, I'm… sorry." Sorry? Is that what he's feeling? Confused looks more accurate. He steps closer to V'ro so he can murmur in the closer-but-not-inappropriately-intimate space between them, "I appreciate you saying what you did. But I just… It hadn't occurred to me that Glorioth being bronze could mean being an accidental flight win away from something a lot more serious than anything I'm contending with now." Obviously, that's a future F'yr problem. "It's… big." That revelation. "Hard." Hence the distraction by the bronze who doesn't approve of inner freak outs when there's a BETTER OPTION. "I don't want to talk about it, yet. But maybe I will? Maybe you'd listen, sometime?" Later. F'yr is a process alone kind of guy most times, it seems. But he might want to talk later. He might try to anyway. Blue eyes search green ones, something in his expression vulnerable.

Okay, well V'ro isn't going to point out that Glorioth probably won't accidentally win flights, but the greenrider does seem sympathetic to F'yr's feelings. The look he offers the blond in return is genuine, kind, and understanding. Is that a weird look on V'ro? "Okay. We don't have to talk about anything right now. But I'll listen if you ever decide you want to talk about it." And he could probably say more, but for right now he doesn't.

It's so nice that V'ro cares that F'yr enough to keep that heart-stopping thought to himself. If there's something weird about V'ro's look, the blond doesn't seem to notice. His hand slides down to V'ro's aiming to briefly lace his fingers through the other man's and give a little squeeze before he releases his hand. "Thank you for understanding," is really heartfelt thanks from F'yr, as sincere or more than any given by his lifemate (and they are always so sincere when they come from the bronze even if he's completely misunderstood whatever earned them). "I'll see if Glori wants a bath." He glances down at his book, worrying his lip briefly, though he doesn't end up asking V'ro to do anything with it for him. Instead he jogs toward the barracks to probably stow it somewhere relatively safe before engaging in the far more physical and dirty tasks of bathing and oiling, perhaps all the more necessary given the season and the continued explosive growth of the dragons.

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