What's in a Name

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 really doesn't matter what time it is. Kayinth is hungry. Kayinth is /always/ hungry. Well, that or sleeping. He waits paitently, his long tail curled around him where he lounges, his great wings serving as an excellent cloak, even if they do trail across the floor as well. Rin..Airin..is busy at the table chopping up meat into pieces just the right size for her lifemate.

All times are mealtime, when you're a baby dragon! This particular time is also one where a brindle shadow in the form of Garouth drifts his way into the barracks, his steps careful in case anyone's sleeping on the floor as he brings in a drift of cold air - physical and mental - and surveys the weyrlings. D'lei walks beside him, under the shadow of the wings, and he's got a smile as he too surveys the barracks - then hehs as he sees Airin, stepping out from that shadow to make his way over to the one whose dragon is currenly hungry instead of sleeping.

Airin shivers a bit with the draft of cold wind but..with Kay's own touch of frost she hasn't noticed another arrival. Chop chop chop. However, someone does! Kayinth turns his gaze on his sire and reaches out his own wintery greeting. For the moment he is patient for his meal. It seems Rin has learned fast about his..lack of tameness..when it comes to being hangry. We do not want a hangry Kay! And as such, at the first tinge of hunger, she gets to work.

Garouth answers Kayinth's greeting with a scattering of autumn leaves, tossed on the wind to become crisped by frost. « Hello, young one. » He lowers his muzzle to the brown's level, which is to say, he puts his jaw to the floor because that's the best he can do. D'lei, meanwhile, crosses over to that table, with a lifted hand to Airin - and then a lower of it to help push the next piece of choppable meat closer. Because let's not delay the important part, here.

Airin is, thankfully less startled than she would have been, thanks to a timely mental nudge by Kay. She looks up with a thankful smile to D'lei and choppity chops. "How are you today?" How she is is obvious. Little Miss Serious has had a smile just about constantly. Kayinth bumps his nose against his sire's, as his tail decides that there are better things to do than to curl around and keep the rest of him warm. It unwraps and slides over towards Garouth, following the thoughts of its owner. His bright, wintery day thoughts accompany his melodious warm 'voice' « Greetings. » And he echos, somewhat, his lifemate's question to Garouth's, just put in his own way. « I hope you are well? »

That's good, D'lei doesn't like startling the people with the knives! It seldom ends well. He grins to Airin. "I'm good. How about you - has the sleep deprivation set in yet?" It's like he remembers having a baby dragon! Who is now a rather large dragon who was the sire of these babies. Garouth rumbles softly, a vibration in that ground-touching throat. « I am pleased, and curious. » Which is his own way of answering. « How are you? »

Kayinth begins to answer, right about the time that long tail lightly pokes at his sire's head. « Steve! Stop that. » The tail twitches, not entirely obedient. « I am hungry. » He looks over to his lifemate who quickly sets down the knife and grabs the bowl she's filled. It'll do…for a start anyway. She makes her way over to the bottomless pit and begins to feed him. "Well…if I could only sleep when he does, I'd do just fine." But of course it doesn't work out like that.

Nessalyn's reaction to impression has apparently been to lapse into near-silence, simply hovering near Tineangrath. Perhaps if she simply waits long enough, the world will stop spinning in this crazy direction and she can get off. She's yawning as she trails after the young gold, who seems to have boundless enthusiasm and energy considering the fact that she didn't let Ness sleep through the night. There's so much to see! And do! And- oh, that thing Airin is doing looks interesting, maybe she's a little hungry. Nessalyn dutifully makes her way up to the table, claiming her own space to chop up some meat while Tineangrath curls that too-long tail around her rider's legs reassuringly. "I'm fine," is uttered quietly, "go say hello." The gold lingers for a moment longer before moving toward her brother and sire, nearly stepping on her overlarge wings several times. « Hello! » Her voice carries the melody of a song that doesn't quite have words yet - just give her time.

Garouth tilts his head, observing that tail with a leaf-rustle of amusement. He opens his maw, giving chase to it playfully. « You must learn to bring all your body into order. » It's observation, not rebuke; Garouth is amused and indulgent of hatchling foibles. D'lei hehs to Airin, with a nod to her. "Or if he'd sleep when you did." Other ways it just doesn't seem to work! And - oh, look, it's Nessalyn. D'lei's body stills a bit as his gaze shifts that way, with a slight press of lips - but he's silent as his gaze shifts down to Tineangrath, then back up to Nessalyn, before he shifts to grant more of that table-room to weyrlings. Garouth's eyes focus on the little gold as she approaches, head still tilted sideways from chasing Kayinth's Steve. « Hello. » His song is wilder, wind and distant wolves. « How are you? » It's still a good question!

Kayinth's cat self just can't resist..or perhaps its Steve that can't. The playful chase sends the tail into a enticing wiggle. « I keep repremanding him, but he doesn't listen. » He looks over to gently reach out his nose to his larger sister. « Greetings. » And then…there is food! He is careful to not get his lifemate's fingers, but there is certainly a snap to getting those first few bites. His talons dig against the floor, even if he didn't have to hunt this prey himself.

Nessalyn gives a vague sort of nod which is likely meant to be a greeting, acknowledging both D'lei in Airin in one motion. And then it's back to chopping, each piece cut down to bite-sized morsels and gathered in a pile off to her right. Tineangrath eyes Steve for a moment one leg reaaaaching out as though she might bop it, but then distraction comes in the form of Garouth. « I'm wonderful, thank you! Everything is so exciting! » She's pure joy, thrilled by everything around her. If she were human, she'd absolutely be the hugging type. « How are you? And you. » This last is for Kayinth, a tilt of her head turning toward the brown.

With all those enticing wriggles, how can Garouth not give chase? He pursues Steve with playful grrs and mouthings, ever so careful with the tiny hatchling but still ready to play - at least, up until there's food to distract Kayinth and Steve's dragged along for the ride! As it were. D'lei's quiet, for the moment, his gaze shifting between weyrlings and then out to watch their dragons with his expression thoughtful. Garouth chuckles to Tineangrath in a rustle of leaves, and nods - or at least, wobbles his head down against the ground. « It is. » Even if he's not nearly so bouncy-seeming about it. Another leaf-rustle, from wind and scampering feet. « I am a part of everything. » GASP. « And so are you. » Is that an incoming muzzle-nudge for a golden baby? IT IS.

Kayinth is indeed distracted by food. But at least it doesn't keep him from talking. Aren't dragon's lucky? His melodious voice warm on the sunny wintery day that are his thoughts, this time faint hints of color like spring flowers peeking out of the snow accompany his words, because..food. « I agree. It is good to be here. » Because..Rin..and food..and Rin..and naps..and Rin..and warmth..and Rin…and did we say food? Steve twitches a bit restlessly, but food seems to calm him as well.

Tineangrath's night sky shimmers with tiny beacons of light, the glow echoed in the still waters beneath, like thousands of tiny flames. That light only grows brighter in the warmth of Garouth's wisdom. « You are a very interesting part of everything! » Although, to be fair, it seems she thinks everything is a very important part of everything. So maybe don't get too excited. « I didn't realize how much everything there would be. » Warmth and good wishes spiral toward her brother in agreemtn. It is good to be here. "Tin." That's the quiet sound of Nessalyn finally speaking up, her cutting finished. "Come here and eat." Tineangrath pauses only long enough to return that muzzle-nudge, before she trots off toward food.

« There is more of everything yet to see. » Garouth treats Tineangrath and Kayinth both to a sweeping dragon's-eye tour of fields and forests and lakes, fragments of vision and memory stitched together into a whirlwind of things to fill dreams and make it so much harder for their riders to convince them to sit still and be patient. But! There's food, and that's important too (and also tastier than he is), so while he's definitely pleased by that nudge in return, he remains where he is and doesn't distract the babies from their eating. Garouths can be patient, they can! And… so can D'leis, his gaze shifting to Nessalyn again as she speaks and then… down to the table, where he reaches to start collecting some of the too-tough bits cut off the hatchling meats and setting them in the scraps-bin. Because, hey, it's something to do with his hands.

Airin is still amazed at the new link and oneness-from-two going on, and how he shares what the dragons are talking about. She gets to the bottom of the bowl quickly and it seems, for just this moment, Kay is content. So she goes over to join D'lei in cleaning up the mess she'd made. "Thank you." Kayinth, for his part, gets up from his lounge to start the long walk around his sire. Made even more so by tiny short-legged steps. He does his best to keep his wings lifted so as not to trip on them, and has moderate success there. Because he is focusing on the walking thing, and the legs thing, and the fact that there is an awful lot of Garouth to walk around, that leaves his tail to do what it wants. Which is to weave this way, then that, making the walking thing even harder, so the little brown stumbles between wings and tail, like a drunk man. The tail seems, in particular, to like Garouth. He trips even more as images of fields and forests are shared, « I want to see that. » But..not the lake. The lake holds no interest for him.

Nessalyn rolls her eyes skyward because THANK YOU GAROUTH. The last thing Tineangrath needs is more information about what's out there. Now she's never going to sleep. In fact, the mere knowledge that all of this exists is enough to distract the gold from eating. Okay, so maybe she takes a bite and barely chews in her eagerness to find out more, but it's only one morsel instead of the pile Ness has created for her. « When can we go there? Can you take us there? » She projects the awkward image of a dragon attempting to ride atop another dragon. Of course, she makes it look far simpler than it would be in reality. « We could do that instead of- » Nessalyn dangles a bit of meat in front of the gold's face, and suddenly she remembers FOOD EXISTS again.

"You're welcome," D'lei says to Airin, with a tilt of his head and a sideways grin. "You'll be working hard enough, I'm sure." Baby dragons don't let anyone be lazy! Garouth turns his head, watching as Kayinth makes his way along - and Steve makes his own way in curlicues around it. Most dragons have a partner they have to learn to work with, but… apparently, Kayinth has two. One in his head, and one on his butt! « You will. » Garouth assures the brown, with a sway of his head to focus on the gold as well. « First you must learn to walk strongly, and climb rocks, and keep going even when it has been hours since your last meal. » ENTIRE HOURS between eating, is that even possible? « I can show the way, but your legs must be the ones to carry you. »

Kayinth recovers from yet another stumble and stops as he considers Garouth's words. « Climb? » His legs are fine, perfectly fine. But..climb.. « Hours? Between meals? » Oh no, that won't do. Won't do at all. Is he a cat or a hobbit? He wants to see those things now but.. Oh yes, he was stalking something. He continues on his way because there is something on the other end of Garouth that intersts him. And it behaves much better than Steve. He doesn't really have to crouch to sneak up on that other tail, because..well..short legs! Rin is just amused by the entire thing. She doesn't worry about Kay's stumbles and trips, because she knows he's ok. And he's Kayinth. She looks to D'lei, "How long before he's doing more than sleeping and eating?" And eating.. and eating… Never mind that he seems to be working on pouncing right now. Kay also says to Tin « I like the idea of the ride. »

Tineangrath looks in askance to Nessalyn, gaging whether or not she can do all these things Garouth requires. « I think I can climb rocks. » Walking isn't so much her forte, but she will persevere somehow. She plucks a memory from Nessalyn's mind, offering up the idea of some strange thing on wheels. It's a… « Wagon! We can ride in a wagon. Can we not do that before our legs are ready? » Food does not seem to be the priority, chiefly because there is so much to distract her from the rumbling in her tummy. Ness manages to get her another bite, and then another, before Kayinth's mention of a ride diverts the gold again. « Maybe someone will give us a ride anyway? » Even if they must use their feet to get to these particular things.

Garouth nods to Kayinth, quite serious about his terrible and unfeasible-seeming requirements. To Tineangrath, there's a glimpse of squirrels scampering up trees and rustling the leaves, and another nod. « You can, but I do not know if you can do it yet. » But she will! He has confidence in her - in both of them, really. His tail may be better-behaved than Steve, but it still - as Kayinth sneaks around into position - twitches, just a little. A flicker of motion, right there at the tip! So tempting. « Where would you get a wagon? » he asks Tineangrath - which isn't exactly a no, now is it? « And who would pull it for you? » Such pragmatic questions… or at least, the dragon version of them. Airin has her own pragmatism, and D'lei… hehs. "The first couple days are the worst for that. They're basically trying to catch up after burning through all the reserves to get out of the egg. After that… it starts to taper off." Which doesn't mean they won't still be doing an awful lot of sleeping and eating, they'll just be spending more time playing and exploring and getting into trouble in between! A glance to Tineangrath, and a wry smile. "Or at least, they'll eat faster, even if it's the same amount." Gobble that food to get back to playtime!

Airin finishes cleaning up the mess, and sets it up ready for whoever might be next. Which may very well be her again. "That makes a lot of sense." Speaking of play, she looks over as Kay looks like a very large kitten. The little ones who still haven't got their balance. Even to the..yes..there it is.. the butt wiggle. Oddly enough, when his tush wiggles, the tail seems so confused it stops! Then..pounce! And tumble tail over head as the pounce doesn't quite have the result he was hoping for. He ends up on his back, stubby legs curled in the air, gaint wings stretched out on either side and his tail. Now it decides to get back to its own thing, and swishes lazily back and forth. Airin takes just a half step, but, well, he's ok, he is sure to let her know. And..he has this. No problem.

What are those? The image of squirrels has Tineangrath shifting her body, rustling wings as though preparing to just CHARGE TOWARD THE PROMISES OF OUTSIDE. Nessalyn reaches out with her less meaty hand to rest a palm against the gold's hide, stilling her for the moment. Later. They'll try outside later, when they've both slept and eaten and are marginally more functional. Speaking of eating… there's more food to be had, and Ness does manage to direct Tin toward it with minimal mental persuasion. « We could build one! » Does it matter that she knows nothing of building anything, let alone wagons? Of course not. Surely they can learn. « Or we can borrow one. And my Nessalyn will pull it! » The weyrling in question squints at that, eyeing the gold with a, "I can't do that." But, « Of course you can. I know you can! » Absolute faith over here.

Garouth's tail is too fierce! …for now, at least. It sways, up and then down to wiggle against Kayinth's paws and play like… well, rather like a feather-toy for a kitten, bobbing up and down teasingly. Meanwhile - because the bronze has multi-tasking skills, even if he doesn't have a separately-motivated tail - the leaves rustle as the squirrels hide behind them, then still. Maybe Garouth's provided enough distraction and terrible ideas for now. Maybe that'll even mean he stops, but… nah. « If you can build a wagon, I will consider it. » Unlikely as it may be! D'lei ducks his chin a moment, as if to hide a crooked smile… then thinks better of it, lifting his head to actually look at Nessalyn. "She's like her mother." His voice is quiet, with a sort of distance that imposes neutrality on it.

Kayinth stays on his back, pawing at that tempting tail. Prey! If he gets old of it with his stubs, beware of rabbit kicking with the hind ones! He notes « Airin can make it. » He's been all through her head. He knows. Rin starts, "Well..yes but. I think it will have to wait. There is much to see here first, right?" Apparently Kay's rider knows better than to have them all about on a wagon adventure.

Tineangrath all but bounces in place, actually hopping once with excitement as Kayinth reveals his chosen's talents. « Airin can make it! » Oh hello Airin, you marvelously gifted creature. Tineangrath already thought you were capable of great things, but now you're capable of more. « We will build our wagon, and find someone to help us pull it, » she promises Garouth, entirely unaware that she'll likely have forgotten all about this plan before the week is out. "I guess," Nessalyn answers after a moment, glancing in D'lei's direction with a faint frown. "Much quieter, though." And less prone to setting things on fire, at least so far.

Garouth is tough, and so is his tail. He can take it! Which isn't to say he doesn't try to evade those paws and claws - he's not gonna make it easy for Kayinth - but at the same time, he's not exactly looking at what he's doing, and so odds are the little stub-pawed brown is gonna catch hold of him sooner or later, and maul that wriggling tail but good. SO FIERCE. « That, » Garouth says of the plan to make Airin do it, « is delegation. It has its own challenges, and surmounting them is a different kind of skill. » Like, say, how Airin has the sense to not immediately start building a wagon instead of feeding her dragonling. And how those very dragonlings will forget all about their plan. « Your attempt will be valiant. » There's praise in his tone, earnest and pleased - though he's not saying anything about success. That doesn't matter! They're gonna try real hard, he's sure, and he'll be proud of them for it. D'lei quirks the corner of his mouth further at Nessalyn's response, with a slight nod. "Better eyes, too. Leirith had to wear eyepatches." Yes, plural.

Airin smiles at Tin, but leaves it there. Hopefully there will be forgetting. She leans against the meat cutting table, all ears for stories. Stories are good. Meanwhile there is success at the other end of Garouth as Kay gets his forelegs around the narrow end of his sire's tail. And then there is much kick with the back legs and light chomping with teeth. Prey! Getitgetitgetitgetit! « There are beasts. They can pull. » So much useful information in Rin's head to be had. It isn't as if they have been told they couldn't do it.

It's not entirely delegating, as, « We'll help, too! » Because Tineangrath would never make someone else do the work for her, it's just that Kayinth's chosen has the knowledge they need. « We'll all work together. As a team! » One can almost see Nessalyn twitching with the thought. But she doesn't outright say no. Instead, she reaches for the next piece of meat, hoping to deter Tinean with the promise of deliciousness. Tineangrath seems pleased with the mere existence of this plan (not to mention Garouth's praise!), because there's something to be said for coming up with an idea that plays to everyone's strength. « Beasts? » She's mid-chew, but pauses to tilt her head in Kayinth's direction. "She did?" Nessalyn asks of D'lei, her tone still slightly wary as though she expects to fall into a trap at any moment. "Her eyes are fine, but she does seem to have a bit of trouble with her-" « TUNNELSNAKES. » The techcrafter blinks. "No, not your tunnelsnakes."

Such ferocity Kayinth has! He has captured this wild brindle-bronzed tail, that struggles and flails against the rampage of tooth and claw. « Some beasts do pull, » Garouth acknowledges, because it's true. « Other beasts, you eat. » He shows this by starting with those neatly cut pieces of meat, then reassembling them like butchery in reverse until there's an entire herdbeast there. « If you confuse them for each other, people get very upset. » So uh. Don't eat things without asking? Something like that, anyhow. D'lei nods to Nessalyn, still just… reserved… in his own manner. "She had an infection of some sort." He doesn't know the details, really. Ask the dragonhealers if it matters, which it probably doesn't. That interruption from Tineangrath makes him snrk, a moment of startled laughter and a duck of head that fails to remove his grin. "Yeah… still quieter." Leirith has A LOT OF LOUD, OKAY???

Airin looks puzzled and asks of Ness, "Tunnelsnakes?" Kay, the mighty hunter, is listening very closely to talk of different kinds of beasts. He pauses in his attack on the tail-monster to inquire, « To hunt? May we hunt? » Now would be good. He would like that. He looks at D'lei from his upside down positon, the top of his head against the floor, so that the others are hanging off the world like bats.

"She's trying to finish my-" « SANDWICHES! » Nessalyn is seconds away from an actual facepalm. "No, my-" « Forks? Toenails? KAYINTHS? » "My sentences, Tin." The gold cocks her head, staring up at her chosen like this is the most ridiculous thing to be said in the past few moments. « I don't think that makes much sense. I don't want to eat your sentences. » Helplessly, Nessalyn simply reaches for another piece of meat and offers it to the gold. SHE HAS NO ANSWERS, YOU GUYS. But at least Tineangrath is significantly quieter than her mother, even at her loudest.

D'lei makes a valiant effort to not laugh. He kind of succeeds at it, in the way where he doesn't actually laugh but it's also very obvious that he's trying very hard to avoid it, and then he distracts himself (or at least, busies his hands) with a bit more helpful cleaning. Garouth rumbles slightly as Kayinth suggests a hunt, paying no heed to Tineangrath's over-enthusiastic and under-helpful suggestions to her rider. « How will you know what to hunt? » he asks the little brown. « If beasts are for hunting, and beasts are for traveling, which is which? You might hunt and eat until you have no beasts left to pull your wagon. »

Kayinth thoughtfuly, gently, gnaws on the brindle tail as he considers that. « Show me which are which, and then I will know. » Daddy? Your son wants to go hunt something. Good luck. Rin does a very rare thing, for her, at the exchante between Tin and Ness…she giggles. And not just a little bit. She starts giggling a whole lot. Poor Ness!

Nessalyn narrows her eyes in Airin's direction. "This isn't funny." Okay, it's a little funny. Even her lips are showing the faint twitch of a smile, despite her best efforts to remain annoyed by Tineangrath's 'assistance'. « What's funny? » Tinean doesn't seem to take any offense at the laughter, merely curious about why people find her amazing bond with her rider and their ability to know instictively what the other is going to say so humorous. « What were you saying about my tunnelsnakes? Are we going hunting with Kayinth and Garouth? »

« You must learn other ways, for I will not always be here, » Garouth replies to Kayinth's answer… though it's certainly not a denial that he can be a good source of information! As for humor, well… "Not this, apparently." Is D'lei helping? If so, who? Great question! Garouth's head lifts, and he looks to Tineangrath as well. « If you are to hunt, I must see that you are ready. It is too dangerous, if you are not. » The winds shift, a hawk's wings mid-dive before it levels out - for now. « Will you help each other practice? »

Kayinth turns his upside down gaze to his lifemate for the giggling, pleased with her joy. But Rin catches Ness' look, if not the lip twitch and gets herself under control with a slight blush. "Sorry, Nessalyn." Kay gives that bronze tail a satisfied lick, and then releases his prey. Now to figure how to get himself the right way around. « Where are you going? For being ready to hunt..does it require the walking like the visiting the trees? » The walking…his nemesis it seems. Well, not /the/ nemesis. That he has yet to discover. He wiggles a bit against the floor in his attempt to right himself, and in that discovers. « This feeling. This..it…» He plucks the word from Rin's mind as she identifies the feeling from him « Itch. I Itch. »

It has taken far longer than it should to deplete that pile of meat, but Nessalyn finally manages to offer up the last of it to the gold, and Tineangrath seems satisfied. « Of course we will. » Complete certainty on her part, even if Tinean is eager to get past the 'practice' part and onto the real thing. « Can we go outside? Or swimming? » She has an unsettling amount of energy for a creature who hasn't yet slept through an entire night. Maybe she'll just keep going until she crashes out in the middle of the floor. « I want to try chocolate. What is itching? » Share, Kayinth! And maybe she'll realize she's itchy, too.

« I go many places. » At least Garouth doesn't give details this time. « For hunting, you must not only walk but run. » Which is basically double bonus walking with speed. The bronze adult nods to Tinean's agreement. « Before you chase prey, you can chase each other. As Kayinth caught my tail… so too you can catch your clutchmates. » A little mutual mauling never hurt anyone! …okay, that's a lie, but. « Do not truly bite. » Someone please tell Zyddagath that about a thousand times? Thanks. D'lei, meanwhile, has caught on to a different part of that conversation, and he's looking around for… aha, yep. "There's oil and cloths," he says to Airin as he gestures over to those supplies. Not that she doesn't probably know all about them already, but hey. He tries! Though not chocolate. « It is cold outside. If you are told to come in, you must listen. » But can she? Well, for that he just looks to Nessalyn, the re-direction of attention obvious to dragonlings over mindlike. Rider's Choice?

Kayinth tucks one wing, rolls that way and gets his stubby little legs under him, before folding up the other wing. Then its step, trip, STEVE, step step, wing trip, stumble, step back to his lifemate. By the time he gets close, Rin's got the oil and cloth ready to go. She doesn't need to ask him where it itches, as its rather obvious in the sympathetic itches on her own body. She gets to work, which at the moment isn't that hard. She's small. He's small. And as he grows, a bonus for his short legs, for her, is her reaching areas on him. He is more than willing to share with Tin what the 'itch' is. « It is that feeling. » While the itch is seen to he turns his multifacited gaze on his sire, « Run? »

« Run? » Tineangrath searches that term out relatively quickly, wings fluttering as she tries to arrange them into some form that would allow for such a thing. There's no luck, though. They're just too big, and that tail isn't helping matters either. « I would never bite. » That would hurt, and Tineangrath's lights dim a little at the very thought. But don't worry! She'll be keeping a close eye on Zyddagath, because she knows he can do better. (Well, once she realizes that he's inclined to certain behaviors.) « I'll listen. » It's spoken earnestly, because if nothing else she'll try to listen. It's just that there's so much to see, and sometimes it's hard to remember that you're meant to listen when there are discoveries to be made. As Kayinth shares, there's a little shiver which passes over the gold, because yes, that's what that is and why didn't she realize she itched in the first place. « Can we also do what Kayith is doing? And then we will go outside. »

Garouth is …. maybe not quite so convinced as the hatchlings that they're ready for hunting and exploring now, though he is quite confident that they'll get there. He may still have a dragon's limited concept of time, but he's at least developed it somewhat. Future-Kayinth and Future-Tineangrath? THEY GONNA BE BADASS. (Leirith, you aren't even here. Shoosh.) For now, he just watches as the little brown stumbles his way over to be oiled, with a nod to the little gold. « Run is like walk, but faster. » Zoom zoom zoooom! Garouth takes Tineangrath's assurance readily, because of course. He's just being overly cautious like he is with his insistences that they need to walk for themselves instead of just riding him! And of course she'll listen (when she remembers), and all this is Just Fine and Garouth will be proud of those earnest attempts. « Oil is very good for itches. » The truths of dragon life, and Garouth will watch that oiling… and send D'lei off to clean his hands, then find some things, while he does. Minions are useful.

Kayinth's wings droop in contentment, and even his tail behaves itself, as the itches are seen to. Oil…oil is good. This rubbing is good. « I like this. Tineangrath, you should try this. It is a very good thing. » Everyone should try it. Even as he enjoys the attentions of Airin, he mulls over the running thing. No worries. After all, he is Kayinth. Kayinth will run. Maybe not today, but that's ok.

« My wings don't want to run, but I will try to encourage them. » Someday they'll behave! Meanwhile, Nessalyn mutters, "Tunnelsnakes," in a low voice as she makes her way over to that oil, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that Tineangrath is following. Unlike when the techcrafter avoids making promises because she doesn't intend to keep them, Tinean is more than happy to dole out her promises because SHE WILL KEEP THEM. It might be months from now that she roots up that memory of a wagon being made, but it will happen. Because she promised. She only steps on her own wing once while making her way over, forcing Nessalyn to inspect the appendage, relieved to find no damage. Her hands are still dirty, so she wipes them on her pants (mm, meatpants!) before reaching for that oil to begin seeing to Tineangrath's hide. « You were right, » she agrees, not that she ever doubted Kayinth, « this is very good! »

« You will learn to work together. » Garouth is confident, he is! « You and your wings, and you and your tail… and you and you! » Maybe even Tineagrath's tail and Kayinth's wings, though he's not entirely sure how it is that would work. No matter, they'll figure it out. D'lei's kept busy rummaging around to find… braided tug-ropes in bright colors. They're kind of like oversized canine-toys, honestly.

Kayinth is in agreement of wings not wanting to run. Or legs. And he thinks Steve may have it in for him in general. « I want to work together. That sounds good. » As does playing, and as does sleeping. Speaking of the latter…Rin gets all the itchy spots, and more, properly oiled, and as she puts away the things she notices..pillows..blankets… yes! She did not sleep well, not when someone insisted she sleep on the couch. So she snags those things and makes up a bed for herself on the couch. And no sooner does she lay down to try it out, than Kay trips up onto the couch and promptly curls up on his lifemate, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Hey..wait..I still have things to do." Too late. Just like that Kayinth is asleep. Seriously? Rin looks towards the others what a 'now what?' expression.

Tineangrath does like the idea of working together, especially if that togetherness includes her Nessalyn. Who… just looks faintly sick, truthfully. What is she supposed to do with this innocent, boundless joy? And that's not even touching on the sparkly sheen to that hide. "You've got to stay still," she murmurs to the gold, as Tineangrath shifts mid-oiling to stare at Kayinth and Airin. Should she sleep, too? No, she likes this oiling thing. And outside. « I think working together is a wonderful idea. Whether it's with my wings or with Kayinth. » She's not picky. « What happened to Garouth's? » They've already lost Airin to Kayinth's slumber. People are dropping like flies! And Tineangrath is absolutely not staying still.

D'lei may have been making plans for both baby dragons, but… ha! Kayinth has other ideas. D'lei pauses on his way back - those toys slung back over one shoulder - as he sees how the brown has tucked himself right over his rider on that couchly pillow-pile, and gives her a combination wry grin and what-can-you-do shrug. "Try and get some sleep?" he suggests to her, because… well, it's that or lie awake. Either way, she may well lose feeling in her legs before Kayinth's on the move again! At least D'lei has successfully returned, not defeated by the supply bins (this time, there's always next time). « He was working with me, » Garouth explains. « Human hands are much smaller and more nimble, though they are not as strong as claws. »

Tineangrath pauses to twist around so that she can better inspect Nessalyn's hands. The techcrafter just holds them up in surrender, because evidently she's not actually going to be able to do this job properly. At least the worst of the itchy spots have been covered, she can really work on buffing that hide to a beautiful shine later. Maybe the middle of the night, when there's NO ONE ELSE around to distract the gold. « They do look like they could be useful. They've done well with oil and food! » Still, hands are curious things, and she bumps her nose against Nessalyn's for good measure. « We ripped some things with our claws last night, but we cleaned it all up. » This last is tacked on quickly, lest Garouth believe they made a mess and left it to be someone else's problem. They would never! (Nessalyn would.)

That's the power of… HANDS! Why, D'lei can even use one of his to rub at Garouth's shoulder as he pauses beside the bronze. They're so handy like that! « Other hands made the oil, and cared for the food. There are many people who are already working together with you. » Because filling a dragon's belly is absolutely working with her, right? Garouth listens to Tineangrath's admission about last night, and nods. « You and your claws must also work together. » So much collaboration. So much. « They know this, » by which he means the weyrling staff, as a mental picture of those humans and dragons makes clear « and so there are things meant to help your claws. » That's D'lei's cue, or at least, the part where Garouth notes it to him, and the rider steps forward with one of those dragon-sized braided rope toys to offer it for Tineangrath's inspection.

« When will we meet these people? » Tineangrath needs to thank them in person. Or perhaps she can send them a tastefully appointed floral arrangement and a kind note, once she realizes what those are. Luckily, the gold loves collaboration almost as much as her rider dislikes it. « Help them? » Nessalyn has stepped back, resorting to watching quietly as her dragon sniffs gingerly at this thing meant to help her claws. « It's very pretty. » She doesn't quite get it yet, but she can at least appreciate the aesthetics. Sniff, sniff. Can she take it? A curious look goes from Garouth to D'lei.
Or thank them in dragon, whatever makes more sense.

« When you can walk and climb… » There Garouth goes again, with his ridiculous insistence that these dragons need to learn how to move around under their own power. « …or when they come here. » Because, hey. There certainly are people who'll come by to do things like deliver that food, or take away those shreds of whatever. D'lei grins as Tineangrath inspects the braid in his hands, with a nod to her - he's not even looking at Nessalyn, she's successfully taken herself out of the view for the moment - and a slight upward lift of it as if in offer. "It's made so it'll come apart into threads, then tied back up again. So even if you break it, your - Nessalyn -" not just a generic rider, nope, "-can put it back together again." Yay more effort cleaning up after dragons? « You can have it, » Garouth assures.

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, GAROUTH? Surely all little dragons can survive on wagon and larger dragon rides alone. They don't need to learn how to walk properly! « Can you ask them to come here? Or maybe I can ask them. » Tineangrath doesn't quite have a grasp on that mental projection thing yet, but there's an innate sense that she can reach much further than this room. She just needs to work out the finer mechanics of the whole thing. At least she choose someone who's an engineer, and very good at fine mechanics! (It's absolutely not the same thing, but shh. Tineangrath believes it will help somehow.) As soon as she's given permission, she reaches out to take that toy with a grateful, « Thank you. » And then she trots right back over to Nessalyn to show her. Look what I've got! "It's very… colorful," the techcrafter agrees with a faint frown, because she's not entirely sure the thing will avoid absolute destruction. "You're sure it can be fixed when she…" She makes a slashing sign across her neck, since Tineangrath is undoubtedly going to kill the thing.

Garouth is so unreasonable. He's figuratively the worst! « I think they are probably busy with other things, and might not want to be interrupted. » Which is to say, he absolutely could, but he won't. At least he (and D'lei) have made arrangements to get Tineangrath a colorful, so they're not all bad. D'lei hehs at Nessalyn's question, with a shrug of one shoulder. "Repaired with all its initial pieces, maybe not." Probably not. (Almost certainly not.) "Repaired with the addition of more apprentice-weaver thread… yes." It's kind of a ship of Theseus thing here - is it the same toy if, over the course of a dozen playtimes and repairs, none of the initial rope remains? Great philosophical question, glad we had this talk, moving on now.

Ceruadharth regrettably misses most of his sister's education this day. No need to rush, no. Either he sleeps like a cat or is simply enforcing C'iel to actually take care of himself. The pair seem to rouse as one, a slow unfurl of wings, eyelids, and limbs stretching akimbo. «Good morning,» Ceru greets, properly to dragon and rider alike with the slink down from their roost. Never mind what actual time of day it happens to be. «Are we breaking more things today?» He has a tone of mild to bubbling enthusiasm.

« Oh. » Disappointment simultaneously mingles with understanding, because as much as Tineangrath might want to thank these wonderful people, she certainly has no desire to disturb someone from their work. And obviously D'lei and Garouth aren't bad at all! At least depending on which half of the gold pair you ask. "I see." Nessalyn is somewhat relieved by this news, philosophical questions aside. "I think she'd be upset if I couldn't fix it." But now that she knows it can be 'fixed', there's a faint nod to the gold that encourages her to begin tearing away at the toy. So yes. Let the chewing and clawing begin! « Maybe Garouth's has more pretty things, Ceruadharth? »

Euclath's head pops up from where he had been using Meion's side as a pillow, still stretched out along the exhausted computercrafter's back. Zero to wide-awake in no time at all, which is not a skill his lifemate shares. She turns a little, stirs in her sleep, and pulls an extra bit of blanket to the spot vacated by dragon-head. «Why am I hungry again?» It's not a directed query - more an inner monologue that's shared with the other dragons in the room - and Meion, were she to be awake enough to acknowledge it. The blue hatchling stretches out, slowly rising from his curl, then jumping down to the ground with only a slightly flawed landing. «Are you hungry again, too?» That one, addressed to Ceruadharth and Tineangrath. Is this a common thing, or just him?

It is very possible that neither Zyddagath nor Ki'lian have moved through the rest of the night. Or through the morning to follow. Lost in each other, lost in vast minds and difficult thoughts. Figuring each other out. Testing each other. A veritable captain's war on tarnished decks. Maybe BOTH DIED at some point, since one never really came out… cooked right. He was cooked a little too thoroughly. With hellfire and Dark curses and Faranth knows what else. No, no, they're both still alive… Mostly, to whatever extent they started out as. In fact, both human and dragonet eyes are watching the goings-on with unearthly stillness. The mindtouch of the young bronze drifts like a chilly, animate fog, reaching, brushing, invading. He doesn't know boundaries, so the invasion may be as much intentional as accidental. Eventually Ki'lian shifts, probably spurred on by hunger that is both his own and his dragon's- unknowing which is more dramatic, considering how unreasonably indistinct that Bond-line is. Or, maybe it's the dragonet's hide, because the man of the sea reaches up to scratch at shoulder, then his neck, then stops in realization that he is not itchy. The utter stiffness earned by how exactly he fell asleep is enjoyed fully now when he straightens his back, groaning to himself. A chuff-creel 'laugh' is short and haunting, Zyddagath melting off that cot in the grace of a risen-wreckage ship slipping off into the tides finally risen to appropriate depths. He leaves the slow-human to do slow-human things and figure out what exactly it is that D'lei has handed over, and if it should also be his.

At this point in baby-dragons, the whole idea of time is kind of fuzzy, never mind such details as times of day. D'lei nods to Nessalyn, with a "Yeah," that's more for Tineangath's emotions - or so the glance of his gaze in that direction would imply - than any of the rest of it. From there, his gaze is drawn to Ceruadharth and C'iel, coming down. « Some things are meant for breaking, » is Garouth's reply to Ceruadharth, carried on a cool breeze between minds. Which, yes, D'lei is on that, because the weyrling staff have stocked this place with plenty of those oversized braided-rope toys that are so suitable for chewing and clawing and tugging from each other. Here's one of them for Ceruadharth, too! All the rainbow threads. "There's more over there," D'lei notes to the blue weyrling with an indicative gesture. "And things to fix them, too." Because, yes. These things are going to be destroyed. That's one of the points. Garouth's gaze shifts to the next baby - Euclath, spirit of inquiry! - and greets him with another swirl of breezes. « Time passed. » It's an important concept, really. Even if it's a difficult one. « You used up the food. » It's like living does that! Or, well… whatever it is that Zyddagath does.

Cue an unearthly gurgle from the Big Blue. You did not hear that. Ceru appears not to have either, his eyes slitted with SUCH FOCUSED CONTENANCE. The itch, the hunger, he would (try) to bear if it did not give C'iel the most squirrlest of expressions. «It would appear I am.» He replies softly to Euclath. Then to Tineangrath, «You're right! He does!» But one does not take without a, «Thank you,» which bears a certain resemblance in cadence to his lifemate. And then the blue can get his teeth improperly to discover with another squint, «This is not food. But it IS fun.» He flicks the other end about to watch the colors move, almost tickling C'iel with them. Oh, they can wait just a little longer before tending other nattering things because there is just SO much to take in. C'iel smiles over at Meion and wiggles fingers. "At least only the smaller of you has to worry about a pick-me-up to get going, hm?"
Did someone say something about being HUNGREY? Talanoath is on the job and is carrying a large and very dead wherry in his jaws like it is some awesome prize. « Who wants dark meat and who wants white meat?! » Comes the voice of the rather loud brown at the moment, a slight mist of fog followed by a faint crackle as he reaches out via mind towards the hatchlings. playerNailii is just following after shaking her head slightly with a curious glance sent to the ones that are awake at the moment. Yep, great first impression, because you know there is plenty of food at the barracks BUT Tala wanted to bring a feather dirty gift!

That's why they call him Talahelpfulth!

« I ate. » Because she has been up! And learning! And ripping apart the chew toy D'lei gave her! Tineangrath lifts her head, pausing in her chewing to look at Euclath with a polite, « I'm glad. Although you could have this one, if you wanted. » The pre-chewed one! Now with extra dragon slobber. Nessalyn frowns down at Tineangrath, evidently not approving on that giving spirit. "That's yours, Tin, don't give it away." There's an inquisitive tilt of the gold's head, because why not? But that's a conversation to be had in private, and Ness merely gives a brief shake of her head, which seems to be enough to lead the gold back into tearing away at her toy. And then suddenly… zzzzz. Eyes droop, her head falls forward, and Tineangrath is out like a light. Right there in the middle of everything. "Tin…?" The techcrafter swears under her breath, and then does the only thing she can do: settles herself down against the gold's side, and just tries to find a comfortable position for herself. Next time, they'll aim for the couch.

Meion makes a bleary sort of sound, as her very curious dragon drags her toward awake. She blinks up at the question from C'iel, takes a moment to process it. Then another. "Mmh," she replies. But Euclath is all serious about things, and the morning-dawn-feeling of his freshly-awake mind is pressing at her own foggy one. He needs her help to figure things out! «Does time always pass when you sleep? If I had eaten more, would I be the same amount of hungry? Why does time pass, anyway?» He's not good at reining in the strands of inquiry that splay outward from every new thing he learns. «Why did Tineangranth just fall asleep?» So many questions, and so few answers for them!

Zyddagath encroaches on the handing-out-of-toys, where his sharply sculpted head is angled up at the various colors and threads and things. « What is the point of these if they are just put back together again? Does that not…» Pauses punctuate his question in odd places as he digs through his rider's mind for vocabulary, «defeat the purpose of its destruction?» The young bronze is right next to Ceru as he flicks the toy around, and blackened, burnt maw snaps. Gnarled fang meant to render the free end to his mercy, and yank it towards himself- either to claim it or out of vengeance, it's anyone's guess. His too-large wings have to flail to keep himself up-right, and abyssal facets whirl with just a little extra of his typically aggitated hues. Ki'lian is up now, standing just beside Zyd as he tries to start things, but the man has more an amused, dark smirk on his face, scewing the roguish shadows there of a scruff that really needs a trim at this point. Like, real bad. « What is dark and white of the meat? Do you hide one from the light? » That doesn't seem to make any sense. That is extra work and would take more time to actually eat it.

D'lei grins, with a nod of, "You're welcome," that's said to Ceruadharth before his gaze shifts to C'iel. "I'm sure you've read textbooks about this," he says, with a vague gesture to the surroundings (and baby dragons). "But you can feel free to blame sleep deprivation even so." Not that C'iel needs his permission for that, of course, but he's gonna get it anyhow. Which… might even be underscored by how Tineangrath chooses this time to run out of energy and become a golden speedbump, thus stranding Nessalyn with her on what is, if not the worst bed, also very definitely not among the best. « The purpose is not destruction, » Garouth replies to Zyddagath, his mind shadows and cool wind. « It teaches the use of claws and teeth, how objects move and what may be done. » A gust of mental wind rustles dried leaves in humour. « Also, it is fun. » Which is probably what the bronze thinks Zyddagath is trying to have with Ceruadharth, in a collaborative tug-of-war kind of way. Either way, he doesn't comment on it… though that may also have something to do with the questions coming from Euclath. So many questions! « Time always passes. » It's a more definitive thing than the question he took it from, a visual of a brook… and multi-hued dragonboats made of fallen leaves floating down along it, caught in that current. He's got no answers for the rest, save - « You can ask her when she wakes. » After that time passes! Maybe it always passes because someone, somewhere is always asleep… or not. D'lei looks over as Talanoath arrives, with a grin as he sees the brown - and then looks behind for that rider. « Talanoath, » Garouth greets with a rumble. « We have just been talking about how to use claws and teeth. » Such fierce claws, those tree-branch shadows. « You have good timing. »

C'iel can't help but laugh a little—don't worry, Meion, he's not making fun of you. It's just.. charming. "I can't think of anywhere that time does not pass…" He ponders this, but the universe is big and scary and strange sometimes. "Mm. It is easy to think you have enough sleep, when you don't," C'iel agrees, a little bashful. Attention whip ONE to Zyddagath as the bronze advances on Ceru and takes the other end, marvelously close to C'iel's face. There is a brief moment where both ends are held tight in dragon tooth, and while Zyddagath may be stronger the toy is by far the weakest of the three and threads strain, snap, colors stretch into a long bow. Play! Yes, it is play, and those wide wings unfurl a little, causing as much unbalance as balance. Then, just as suddenly, the Blue lets go. «You can have that one,» Ceru declares. Yes, try TAKING it when he's just GIVING it to you. "Ah, are you sure..?" Ceru nods a couple times. Besides! There are certainly more. And better uses to teeth for now. C'iel PEEKS out from beside the dragon and waves excitedly to Nailii. How long has it been since they last spoke? "Good to see you!" And so kind. Bringing food. «Talanoath?» This name isn't so familiar to Ceru as are his immediate siblings. So close to food, but… so many questions between here and there.

« I suppose you could hide it from one another, but that would be a bit silly. Much easier to just eat one or the other, or both depending on ones mood I do suppose. » Talanoath lowers his head dropping the wherry, which has a for certain broken neck, also FEATHERS so many! They will be found in the barracks for weeks after this meeting for sure. Talanoath rumbles out lightly while tilting his head to send a glance towards Garouth. « I am always on time, but I just knew I was needed a this moment so here I be! » That fog of his mind lightens slightly, a few stars twinkle in darkness. His name brings his attention towards the hatchlings once more. « Yes! I am Talanoath, and mine is Nailii, she is a dragonhealer so she can fix your bumps and breaks and the like. » Nailii smiles and waves back to C'iel hello there, congrads everyone and welcome to the world of being a rider. It might be strange now but it won't stay that way forever, promise." Well that might depend on the dragon too, no one look at Talanoath he is totally-totalllllllly normal!

Euclath bounds to his big color-twin's side, trying to get involved in that rope-tug game with their deathly bronze sibling, when Ceru lets go and changes the rules. It's a revelatory moment for Euclath, as resisted force suddenly becomes unopposed. He'll remember that. Wings held close-tucked, he crouches, while scattery little threads of his curiosity blow around the forest-floor of Garouth's explanation. «Always?» Cielo's comment about not knowing a place without time seems more reasoned to him - why discount the possibility of the unknown on someone's say-so? Even if that someone is his parent. Meion, meanwhile, sits up on her cot, stretching out her back and looking to Talanoath and his gift with a hunger that is certainly not all hers. She manages a smile to Nailii, rising to feet. "C'mon, Euclath. You can ask more questions while you eat."

Ki'lian runs a hand through his disheveled hair, "That one isn't worth it." Drawls tired, heavily accented voice that all but slurs everything together as Zyddagath is abruptly alone with the brightly-colored overly stretched rope toy. His only salvation of not tumbling is that he was semi-prepared with those tattered sails unfurled to the decks, and tail lashed behind gaunt frame. There's absolutely no indication that he minds how close he'd been to C'iel's face when he went for that free-end, but nor does the young bronze seem.. pleased by his plundered bounty. Silver'd talons curl around the opposite end that Ceru had released, his maw opened and his head shaken to try to release the threads from his teeth, tongue licking awkwardly at his jaws as if to rid himself of the taste or texture or both. Chill winds of a dead night churn o'er dark waters accented by a singular sickly moon, ominous, foreboding, something waiting upon the horizon hidden by that writhing fog, « How.. kind. » Can he already be sarcastic? He must have stolen it, just like everything else from the depths of his rider's thoughts gone unshared. Despite that reaction, he picks it up again, and starts to take it back across the room. Then. Stops. And- what are those? Deathly ghostship bronze is too-still again as he watches feathers. Feathers everywhere, « To eat.. Or to ruin. » Because those are the two lessons here. Something about that clarification seems.. less… to the older dragons, and more a decision he's trying to make of what he wants of them.

Garouth acknowledges the hole in his theory with a grave nod, a glimpse of a still lake unconnected to that stream. « Everywhere I know of. » he clarifies to Ceruadherth and Euclath. « If you find one where it does not, I will be very interested. » Does he consider it unlikely? Very much so, but that doesn't mean he'll deny contrary evidence - just that he's going to make assumptions until he sees it! D'lei waves to Nailii as he spots her, with a grin - but he's not going to distract her from these important duty things, nope. Zyddagath's musing may not be meant for him, but Garouth answers nonetheless. « If you do not eat, you will die. » Though that doesn't exactly clarify what the intended purpose of this particular meat-containing object should be.

Ceruadharth AND Ciel pause a while to linger on this whole 'unlikely' thing. It is a tiny thing, like a seedling under heavy snow. Places where the rules of things don't apply? "Well, that would be… strange and beautiful." Terrifying, but all the same. The toy-gift given, Ceru smiles like he means it. Sarcasm such unfamiliar waters to him yet. The Blue advances on the meal-to-be and then pauses, peering at Garouth, and then the others. «Right now? Or always?» It's not so much that he needs clarification, but that he is suddenly fraught with worry. Will there be enough for all of them? Oh, he can't bear the thought so they all will have to have their share first. C'iel puts a hand on that (still a bit scratchy) hide. "There will be enough for everyone. We'll make sure of it." For some definition of We. He smiles still at Nailii. "I don't know, a little strange has been.. fun, most of the time."

« Plenty for everyone right now, no one will go hungry. » Talanoath offers with a soft croon escaping him while he shits to settle his bulk down, tail slowly swaying before finally curling to his side. « NOW!! Who wants to help with opening the meal? » Sure he could do it but this can be turned into a lesson if he teaches them how to do it. He will also most likely teach them anyway but the right way, but IS there a right way to rip open a carcass? Nailii just eyes Talanoath a few moments before a shake of here head is seen and she catches that wave from D'lei and sends him a grin and a wave back before her gaze turns back to the others. "I'll make sure to remind you of that when you're feeling isn't much fun anymore C'iel." She is clearly joking, but being a dragonrider is not a easy task!

Just a step behind Ceru, Euclath follows - and then, when the bigger blue hesitates, his smallest sibling keeps going, with a turn back of head. He doesn't bother with words, projecting that raw « ? » to Ceruadharth and C'iel, with a sense of grand feasting and camaraderie that he must have borrowed from Meion's apprentice days. He's bounding forward toward that wherry-offering even as he glances back - and it's remarkable how quickly he's taken to all six of his limbs, the little blue already confident in his quick little movements around the weyrling cavern. He's practically throwing his eagerness to help ready the meal across the room - but he stops short of actually running up to the wherry, as he perceives Zyddagath's attention on it, and what will happen? wins out over what can I try? as the question of the moment. In a laughing-but-serious aside to the dragonhealer who bringeth food, Meion asks "Is there anything for us? I mean, I'm almost hungry enough for raw wherry, but…" That almost is an important word.

Zyddagath drags that rope thing the rest of the few (awkward) paces to the couch he's yet to sleep in. Not the first thing in his cache, apparently, because some of that blanket from the previous night is in there- And is that a shoe? Whatever. Nobody's claimed it yet. When your world is only as big as a room, all things are new, impressive, and worth hording. That is, until he learns what other things divest true power, and what exactly is really worth his time. Angular, haunted figurehead turns up to Garouth crookedly, watching with a single half-lidded eye that slowly, slowly, creepily, unlids again. "No." Ki'lian answers the next question before it comes, which somehow stimies the rise of the wretched deep. Amusement shudders the dense fog of Zyddagath's mind, where it thickens, becoming heavier and more suffocating against everyone it touches. Indistinct figments shift and move from within over the blackness of deep, dead ocean- or maybe that was nothing at all? The hatchling bronze moves around his lifepartner, brushing past him with a contact that seems like approval. Where Ki'lian's hands had been busy adjusting the chain 'round his neck from wherever he'd stashed it prior, his hand reflexively falls between the ridges of the bronze's neck- a dry spot, no less. Useful. « Those. » The feathers « What are those for? Mine says pillows and bedding, but that does not explain why they are on something that is dead. » Dead things sleep, but dead things do not need comfy bedding. He might be the exception to that rule.

« You must eat at intervals, when your body is hungry. » Garouth may not be a dragonhealer, but he is a dragon, and he can clarify this for Ceruadharth. « If you do not, your muscles will get weak and it will be hard for you to think. If that happens for long enough, you die. » Bleak thoughts, perhaps, but Garouth's mental touch is gentle - if factual - with a soft rustle of leaves and grass offered like a reassuring touch. « Hunger is how a body says it wants food. » Garouth is approving of Talanoath's intended lesson, giving the brown a sense of eyes glinting out from between the trees to watch this demonstration of how to unwrap this tasty wherry snack along with the weyrlings. As for Zyddagath… well, if he was hoping to disturb Garouth, he'll be disappointed. The bronze sire meets his gaze in passing, remaining aware of him but not lingering there, and the mists in his mental forest remain unmingled with those of foul oceans save for at tidal borders. « That is how humans use them. » Pillows! Beddings! « But that - » the dead wherry, that is « - is no human. » Just in case we were going to delve into Diogenes here and pluck it into a featherless biped!

Ceruadharth 'replies' to Euclath with a gentle « - » like a shove in the direction of food, and sustenance, and probably deliciousness. But that passive you-first attitude takes a turn a little bit at the feathers. Familiar, some-how. And Ki'lian's mention of comfort to humans, and Garouth's, bid him lean down, *clamp* with jaws and take not meat, not yet, but a rangle of the less-than-pretty feathers, *spffing* a few out before pressing the last one in C'iel's palms. «You will need a lot more of these.» Voice for a moment like a flutter of those feathers, or a cool and firm *hop hop* of something much smaller on snoots before flitting on again. "Mm, what I wouldn't give for a proper skillet…" He agrees to Meion, and then nods to C'iel with a soft smile. "You'll… I mean, I'm sure you will."

« The feathers for when it was still alive, you know breathing and moving, and chittering. The feathers keep them warm, like fur or scales. » Talanoath mind is still filled with the fog and stars, soft little waves of calmness felt like a ripple effect between the others. A forepaw is lifted, large talon flicks out and it wiggle a bit or affect. « First! One must cut into the skin and feathers to get to the meat and inards and the like. Which some can be rather yummy I have to add. » Oh this could give people nightmares if one was well not careful. Nailii leans down to pluck a few feathers and actually blows them towards Zyddagath with a light giggle escaping her. Seems Tala shared with her comments and the like. "You could always start collecting feathers now for a pillow or mattress. Would take a while but still, be a interesting hobby I do suppose." As for C'lei she smiles. "It will be fine; I'll try not remind you that often." As for food for the rest she will point towards a table near the back. "For the next few days we're be be bring stuff so you won't have to go/that/ far from the hatchlings, but don't get to use to the comfort. Still there will be something around like klah and tea for certain." Given the time of year it is nice to have something warm to drink.

Meion looks relieved when she sees the table, and properly comprehends its contents. Klah! Even if it's not her klah, it's warm, and it's awakening, and it's the stuff she is almost certainly addicted to. The prospect of a proper cup! And, oh yeah, some food to go with it, she guesses. Her mental relief is enough to briefly pause Euclath in his intent study of the wherry. She's probably just given him a very bad idea, and she doesn't even know it yet. But then dragon is inspecting the feathered carcass, swiping with a foreclaw and clipping a small flurry of feathers off in a barely-adequate version of plucking. Something predatory is awake in the back of his mind, connecting hunger and meat and prey in a wordless web of concepts that he stalks through.

"Once you've gotten yourself handled," D'lei notes to Meion as she manages sweet caffeine and also calories, "You might want to cut some meat for him as well." Which is the other table that's kept well-stocked, meat in a cool-box and the knives to cut it into bite-sized chunks. "He's probably not going to manage more than a couple bites of actual food out of that wherry." Because adventure and science and figuring things out can have a rather destructive effect, even when it's not on purpose… and besides, more meat in bite-sized pieces never, ever goes awry when there are baby dragons to be fed. If Euclath doesn't eat it, someone else will! Garouth watches as Ceruadharth goes back with those feathers, then lowers his head to gently nudge the larger-than-Euclath-but-still-small blue. « There is enough food for you. » His tone is patient, his mental image one of berry-bushes… and the deer nibbling them. « Go see what Talanoath has brought for you. »

C'iel is almost as bad as Ceru. But not TO Ceru. He takes the feather and carefully tucks it against his ear before the Blue is nudged by his sire. «Where did it come from?» He wonders, and then ducks his head. More listening, less questions for now, he nods and joins his siblings. Though it looks like Euclath has a head start, Ceruadharth steps beside and takes a deeper gouge with a claw before his snout follows. There is feel, there is scent, and though it is already dead there is so much more here than fully chopped and prepared meat. The dragonhealer slips past what is bound to become a very colorful scene to the table at the back. Tea. Tea is very nice, too, and will help the rest of the offerings go down well. "Oh, I'm sure we'll find some way to repay the kindness in time," he offers to Nailii.

Nailii smiles and shakes her head slightly as she hears C'iel. "Nothing to be repaid, part of the process in learning. Someone taught us so we do the same for the next generation of course." Talanoath looks on amused as the pair work at the wherry. « This is so much better then cut up meat that is here, but you can't eat too much of either as that could cause issues. » We won't talk about /them/ issues or it will HAPPEN. « Now, you can pluck, pull, rip or what have you the feather off which will make it easier to get at the meat. OR just cut right n and get right to work so to speak. » To prove the point the brown goes about pulling feathers off across the wherries belly and haunch area and the feathers are sent flying with a few deep breaths so they will be floating around the barracks. Your welcome! « Now we can go forth and cut right into meal like this. » His talon is raised and he presses it into the wherries haunch and rips downwards, then does the same across the animals belly to exposes muscle and the like to the little hatchlings.

Euclath is almost too fascinated to start eating! In its original form, there's so much variation - is this how the cut-up meat he's had started out? Things are complicated inside the wherry! But he has other curiosities, too - will it taste different? What will the texture be like? He slides in, body low to the ground, slender muzzle poking up at that opening made by Talanoath-who-brings-interesting-food! (And that sobriquet is a bright little tangle of ideas, applied like a rank-knot to the great night ocean of Talanoath by proud little Euclath, weaver-of-ideas.) And then there's food, and interesting, and Meion visibly shudders, eyes widening a little as she experiences the carnality of eating something so raw, direct, immediate. Something wholly beyond the meat she's carefully cubing more of.

Airin has been trapped under Kayinth for awhile now, as he had eaten then slept on her like a large feline. Sometime during that she managed to get some sleep as well, but as comfortable as a pile of pillows and blankets me be on a couch, bits of her start saying they aren't happy. She rouses and the first thing she sees is the head of the most amazing creature still resting on her shoulder. But that amazing creature..is still asleep. She moves a bit, trying to get body parts to stop being upset with her, without disturbing the little brown. One must never disturb the sleeping cat, right?

Garouth tucks his tail about himself as he watches the little blues Meet Their Meat. « There are others who help us. They raise the animals and make sure there is enough. » he answers Ceruadharth's curiosity about the source, with a flicker of images of the animal-pens and the herders and beastcrafters who work there… though there's a larger sense behind them, all of Xanadu (and Pern) that - in complicated ways - contribute. « When you are strong and confident on your feet, you may go see for yourself… but first we must see that you will be safe on the journey. » Which, yes, going across the clearing counts as, at least for dragons this new out of the shell. The adult bronze lifts his muzzle to lazily snap at a floating feather, gnawing on it for a few moments like it's some kind of strange toothpick. « Every animal is similar, but there are differences. » Which is to say, Euclath should definitely conduct this kind of inspection more than once! Sorry, Meion. D'lei drifts a little, closer to Nailii and C'iel, and hehs. "That's what a Weyr does," he says, and smiles. "We all contribute to each other, and keep the place running for all of us." Or at least, that's the optimistic theory of it. The practice gets… complicated, sometimes.

Fervent hunger is enough to clutch Ceruadharth away from contemplation and curiosity. For the first few mouthfuls, at least, and then some. He is not just experiencing this melt-in-your-mouth sensation for the first time, but also wondering as to his kin's experiences. Tail gives the littlest of flicks, and he wonders to the sleeping dragons before remembering Garouth's words. There is enough food, yes. C'iel can't help but turn his head and watch with a half-smile on, which turns to a full smile as he does something savage and unspeakable to a biscuit (or whatever close qualifies.) At least he was holding that and not something else. "That was always the hope, yes." He nods to Meion, and D'lei, and Nailii. "So, for now, our responsibility is to grow and grow good, yes?" Which means a lot of things. Good answers, and good meat, too.

Nailii chuckles softly and nods as she hears C'iel. "Well to some degree, you all are to learn as you grow and when you have graduated then you will be able to give back to the Weyr and thus to everyone that has helped you during this time of learning." She looks on as the hatchlings go about exploring the wherry, and Talanoath seems very amused over this process. « It is funny to take the innards and hide them around the barracks. » The brown lightly points to the belly of the wherry and a rope looking bit that is sticking out slightly and looks well, gross honestly. « Small bites, chews well don't just gulp it down. Don't want to gulp down any food that your lifemates give you either. » See there is a good reason behind this lesson, other than sending feathers fly and perhaps hiding something nasty to be found later.

Funny. That's a funny word to Euclath, and he goes rummaging through Meion's stores of experience to try to make sense of it. She gets a glazed look, knife clattering from her hand to the table as he drags her on a midnight run through the forest of her ideas, looking for the one that makes sense of what Talanoath said. It's brief, but intense enough to scatter stray leaves and tangles of conceptual yarn through the heads of other dragons and weyrlings - and then the strings all pull taut, back to themselves as Euclath understands - and there's Meion's shocked face, looking down at the knife that's sitting on the table-edge, not quite close enough to fall on feet, but. "That could have hurt me!" Euclath reacts as the sentence is leaving her mouth, pulling head back from the carcass suddenly and almost tumbling over himself in a rush across the room to his lifemate, all apology and reflected fear.

Airin doesn't have much luck freeing herself so she nudges the sleepyhead. "Come on, can you just scoot a little..?" Kay's response, « Mmmphhh.. » "Pretty please?" Faceted eyes open to peer at her sleepily, « But sleep is so nice. » But then his belly rumbles, and his nose twitches as /something/ catches at it teasingly. He lifts his head and looks 'round behind him to try to identify just what that fabulous smell is. Whatever it is, he wants it. He gets up off a very grateful Rin and with just a bit of stumbling over tails and wings and such he leaves the couch, on the prowl to that feathery thing that's all open and bloody and smells soooooooooo good.

"Honestly, at this point? You don't need to worry about anything besides keeping those babies - and yourselves - happy and healthy." D'lei grins to C'iel. "But yes," he says, with a nod to Nailii and a shift of his arm behind her to move fingers in a lazy brush along her back. "You'll learn all sorts of things about being dragons and riders, and then you'll get to decide how it is that you want to contribute." A wry grin. "Subject to approval, of course." Because while this is Xanadu, and few ideas are too crazy to be considered… some ideas are definitely still too crazy to actually be approved. The clatter of a knife grabs D'lei's attention sharply, a shift to the balls of his feet that's as much instinct at this point as the turn to look at the source… which is Meion, with a look that he recognizes but… one step toward, and the moment's already gone, the lightning-flash of knowledge achieved and the singed earth where it hit. D'lei continues with that second step, but Garouth is faster because he doesn't have to move a muscle - just his mind in a touch to all the young dragons, a blanket of shadows that dampens the sharpest edges of fear and upset with a solid reassurance that it will be okay and there is no need to panic… because, to a dragon who's carried out many rescues of injured riders and dragons, panic means that things get worse.

C'iel nods, satisfied with this answer. He'll have to spend much time sharing these ideas with Ceru later. "I'm sure they're looking forward to learning just how to learn all about the Weyr, too." There's a little hope in his heart that the Blue will love his home as much as he did. But how could he not? Meion's exclaimation gets both to look up, the former be'crumbed and the latter's lips stained crimson. «Could have?» The incident is nigh repeated until Ceruadharth finds himself cloaked in comforting shade. Wings shroud over his shoulders and only twitch a *little* because, yes, everything is okay and that's all that really matters isn't it? C'iel just… leans in and carefully guides that precariously placed knife back to a safe hold on the table. He reaches towards Meion, but then hesitates with the oncoming approach of her lifemate. "… happy and healthy," he finally murmurs, and a half-laugh cracks. Yes, easy as can be, won't it.

Nailii lifts her gaze to D'lei offering him a warm smile and leans back against that arm of his that rests across her back, and she nods to what is said agreeing. "Approval is needed for many things. Safety and all that stuff after all." She says with an amused tone and slight shake of her hand. Talanoath is busy pushing the wherry this way and that to make it easier for the hatchlings. As for the movement of hatchling and new weyrling his gaze lifts to watch curiously, but as Garouth is handing the moment he will not interfere unless needed of course. Nailii looks to C'iel and Meion to make sure all is still OK given that Euclath is still on the move towards his rider. "It'll be alright, little things like this will happen while everyone is getting use to everything. The links we share between our dragons are very strong, and they can feed off of us over the smallest things rather quickly." Giving what has just happened good to have a bit of an explanation to go along with it. "This will get easier to work with between one another with time and practice of course." Her words are soft only attempting to help with the matter at hand.

Meion's accelerated heartrate is only momentary, and she's aware of Euclath's rush toward her. Then there's Garouth in her mind and Euclath's along with everyone else's, and that calm settles like fog over the worst of the fear. She slides out of her chair - deliberately, dropping to her knees to hug Euclath as he rushes up to press his muzzle to her chest and surround her with a thousand apologies, tangled together like a blanket. She looks up, seeing C'iel react - and she lifts one hand from Euclath's back to reach up to him, taking the hand he started to put out and squeezing it. A nod to him, to D'lei, to Nailii. "Everything's fine." A breath. "Just a scare, but we know what happened." Her clothes look like she's the most junior apprentice practicing butchery now, but she doesn't care. That absolute certainty that it was an accident, that Euclath would never try to harm her - that's the most important thing for her right now.

Airin extracts herself from the pillows and such on the couch with a stretch, and in mid making sure all her limbs will work properly is the whole scary knife thing but..all is well. Kayinth is well. In fact, he is so caught up in the hunt that he only noted the excitement a bit. Already short, he crouches lower, his tail lashing and then still…as butt wiggles. His gaze is on the wherry left behind. This time his pounce is much better than when he went after his sire's tail. With a little growl he gets his claws into the tempting moving target. Prey! He sinks his little teeth into the bit that was so kindly opened to rip off a piece. It seems that while walking isn't his thing..this part he might very well be better at.

Just taking care of predatory creatures with semi-controlled telepathic abilities, that's all! Garouth keeps that mental blanket steady, a calming influence that keeps fear from becoming panic, keeps anger from becoming rage. There will be no dragonlings terrified into between today… which doesn't mean that there can't be some very upset young dragons during this discovery of consequences and the potential effects of actions. It's just that this can (and will) be a learning experience, and Garouth's going to make sure everyone is still around in order to learn from it. D'lei stops in his approach as he sees Meion slide down to hug Euclath, sees the blue press against his rider. He nods, acknowledging and confirming that, yes, everything is fine… and he takes a step back, relaxes the tension that appeared in his shoulders as S&R D'lei responded to an incident. He lets out a breath, slowly, resuming his more casual stance. Everything is, in fact, fine… well, except that wherry, because Kayinth is excellent as mauling it.

Ceru does not run, fortunately, for that would never end well. He decides he has had enough werry for now and is instead focused intently on this moment. From the shroud of his sire's comfort, where panic turns to fear, and then soothed. Guilt to apology to forgiveness if it even need be had. The relief and acceptance C'iel feels poking little sunbeams into the cloak of shadow, 'til a little gentle pastel. C'iel returns the squeeze and smiles just a little bit more. "And you worry about me." And another does, because Ceruadharth is there with a wing and a blunt headpress that leaves the dragonhealer's body framed between horns. «No one needs to worry.» Not while the others are there to make everything Fine, a talent he is determining to learn. Sooner than walking, even! Both chance a side-ways glance at Kayinth and chuckle. At least one of them is enthusiastic. … AND awake.

Nailii looks a bit amused as Kayinth goes about attacking the wherry, good form! "Good job." She offers with an amused tone to the brown as her gaze settles on the rest to make sure all is still well. As for D'lei she will mov over to where he is and lean close to let her hand rest upon his arm giving it a squeeze, and offers him a smile to show all is fine. Her attention is pulled back to the others though. "Remember after eating they will want to sleep, good time to get a oiling in when they can't wiggle and escape so you can get to all the spots that might be hard to reach when they area awake." This said after a few moments in an attempt to move thoughts onto other things. As for Meion and Euclath she lifts a finger offering them both a smile. "I'm going to go get you some clean clothing." Because no one needs to look like they are in a butcher shop at the moment. With that said she'll turn to go fetch some form Meion. Talanoath warbles out with amusement while Kayinth attacks the rather dead wherry but it is still amusing to watch. « Good form! Grip with your talons, makes it easier to old onto them why they are trying to get away. » Sorry kiddies they won't always come dead!

Clothing? Meion looks down, and… oh. She calls out belated thanks to Nailii's retreating back, then just sighs, sitting down on the floor with her back to her chair. She's smiling, at least. She's been smiling a lot, lately, and that's one of the important things. "Everything's okay now, Euclath." She addresses him out loud, still unsure how to consciously bring up that mind-voice. "Just… warn me before you grab my attention like that, so I can put down anything sharp." Or fragile, heavy, in need of babysitting - really, there are a whole list of things one should not operate while under the influence of inquisitive dragon. Since there's no lasting harm done, it was just a moment for learning. She considers on Nailii's advice, but realizes she's somewhat pinned in place. "Could someone toss me an oilcloth?" Euclath starts to lift his neck to let her up, but she disapproves effectively enough that he stops again, head on her lap.

Airin curls her fingers all unknowingly as Kayinth takes the good advice to get a good hold of his prey. "Little bites, Kay." She still needs to learn, like Meion, that she doesn't have to talk to him out loud. He heeds the advice and rips off another small bite. The problem with this process, that though the meat with all the blood and other such fabulous things is delicious, its getting his brown hide all messy. He hasn't noticed yet…but he will… Rin steps off the couch to watch him feed, surprsingly not bothered by this like she honestly thought she would be. "That'll be fun to clean up.." Not just him, but the floor too.

D'lei dips his chin slightly and smiles back to Nailii, reaching his other hand to put his fingers against hers. It is, in fact, okay, and he (and everyone else) is fine. The weight of Garouth's shadows lessens as emotions find their own equilibrium, until it's back to just the sense of his mental presence to go with his physical bulk. As Nailii expresses her suggestions for what to do next, he nods along to offer his support for that… and maybe also re-center his thoughts by focusing on those pieces of dragon care. "I'll get it," he answers Meion, because that way he can be helpful and help convince his brain that, yes, he's properly dealt with this crisis. So he does, with a heh for Airin's comment as he passes - there's a reason why the floors here are made of stone - before he gets clean towel and oiling cloth alike and brings them back to Meion, one in each hand. "There's a bathing pool for them in the cavern next to this… when you've got the energy for it, that is." His look is a sympathetic one, because - while he hasn't been exactly here - he's definitely been here.

Meion accepts the cloth gratefully. For a moment, there's a perking-up from Euclath at the prospect of something else just next door - but then Meion starts oiling the back of his neck, and suddenly there is nothing more important than that in the world. Apparently itching is a state that is not permanent! And he really needs to learn more about this rubbing thing in general. His ill-contained mindspace wanders, little tangles and braids and ever-spreading fabric of ideas spilling out like an overturned sewing box - and is he chirping? He is. Like the smallest and daintiest of songbirds.

Airin is a little worried as Kay eats, not wanting him to bite off more than he can chew. She moves closer to keep an eye on that, but he seems to continue to be very sensible in his eating. If perhaps a bit..well.. let's just say not tame..in his eating. A bath though, sounds wonderful…to her. But wait… "There's another bath nearby with the hot springs closed? Is it safe?" Kay picks up from her that this 'pool' thing means clean. He misses what a pool is just yet but.. « Clean? » Clean is apparently to be desired.

Garouth offers bits of forest-floor leaf-litter and fallen branches to that tangle of ideas strewing itself out from Euclath, images and concepts that seem - to his glance - to integrate with that fabric of ideas and might find places to be knitted into it. D'lei pauses at the question from Airin, as if he just… hadn't exactly thought about that. "Uhm." Which, okay, it's probably not really used that much except when there are baby dragons. So…. "I'll check on that," he concludes, because apparently he doesn't have an immediate answer. "We can certainly get them some sponge-baths, if nothing else."

Meion nods up to D'lei at the mention of the closures, which is enough to get another wave of « ? » from mostly-awake Euclath, curious despite his hatchling spa experience. "How much longer do you think they'll be closed? It seems like everything's probably done, right?" Whatever everything is. Euclath's eye slowly gradient-shifts at the question, as something about it seems terribly interesting to him. The leaf-litter and tendrils of thought all start to stir into a web of ideas - and then Meion is redoubling her efforts with oil and smooth cloth along the back of his neck, and he settles back into a comfortable doze. Whatever his question is, it will keep.
Airin looks around for the needed items, which thankfully aren't hard to locate. Kay, having eaten his fill for now lets go of what's left of the wherry for any other baby dragon that might fancy a taste. He lays down in a feline pose and starts to lick his claws. Rin finds bucket, sponge and..the tap. "Is this water ok?" Kay listens, if that is the word, to the leaf-litter and tendrils. He hasn't really properly spoken to his brother yet so… « Hello. I like the oiling. Isn't it nice? » His melodious voice carries with it wintery cool, and yet warmth of sun and beneath it all a deep sound that isn't a sound.

"Yeah, I think so," D'lei says in reply to Meion, and smiles. "Just don't want to say anything for sure without checking in on things." That would be reckless! Or else require an instant knowledge of what's going on everywhere in Xanadu, which he definitely doesn't have. "But we've got the core issue, so… just loose ends." Another smile, a quick one, and then he turns to… mmm, half-mangled wherry corpse. Appetizing! And also, a bloody Kayinth, and a Airin gesturing to a tap that… "Oh, yeah!" This, at least, he can say with confidence. "That's a different system. It's fine."

The contentment that Euclath shares with Kayinth is wordless - the warm blanket that settles over both; the patchwork quilt being sewn in situ, each touch from his lifemate another panel / color / pattern in an evergrowing complexity of experience. Meion gives a nod of acknowledgement to D'lei, looking quite content with the news. She leans back and closes her eyes, oiling blue-and-teal hide with the surety that comes from feeling where her hands need to be, learning to be two-minds-in-two-bodies with her nearly-sleeping companion.

Airin is glad of that because Kayinth is only going to get so far with the cat-like grooming he has going on. She fills the bucket and takes it, sponge and sand to where he lounges. "Time to get clean!" Kayinth likes the sound of that « Clean is good. » But then he gets sight of the bucket of…water. « What is that? » Rin tilts her head as she answers him, setting the bucket down next to him. "It's water. We're going to use it to get you cleaned up." Kay snuffles at the bucket, gets his muzzle a little close and yanks his head out, snorting water. « That's wet! » Yes, of course it is, silly dragon.

Apparently, Kayinth's opinions of oil and water are… well, like oil and water! D'lei tilts his head, watching Kayinth and Airin as the brown is dubious about this water thing… even if, after rending that half-eviscerated wherry that's still lying on the floor, he really could use some clean. « Water helps wash away the blood, » Garouth offers helpfully, along with a mental picture of a blood-smeared cliff and a waterfall that pours over it and washes the blood away in a pinkish wave to leave it clean. « If it grows dry, it is hard to remove. » …yeah, he probably is speaking from experience here.

C'iel had apparently busied himself cleaning up a bit of floor and table and someone has GOT to stop him from trying to volunteering responsibility for everything. Fortunately, Ceru's hide can wait NO LONGER and it is with a gentle nip to the collar and an insistent drag (that stumbling is only because he's forcing the Weyrling along, that is the only reason!) to a comfortable place with water and oil and hey he might actually have just a teeny bit of practice at some of this from the Annex. Maybe. "Well, enough oil and you just might be the prettiest," C'iel muses. Ceru smiles, despite the fact that they know much better. «… well. Close enough.»

WHO IS THAT WRASSLING OPEN THE DOOR? WHAT TIME OF DAY IS IT EVEN? It's Risali, and here she comes, shouldering her way in, arms wrapped protectively over a bundle of something wiggling in her jacket that she decidedly Does Not Meet D'lei's eyes over (is this even a good idea?) as she comes in with company: LEIRITH. « BUT IF YOU SMEAR IT AROUND, YOU LOOK PRETTY BADASS, » the queen booms, moving around Risali because her lifemate's much sedate pace is UNACCEPTABLE. THERE ARE BABIES TO SEE. PLOP. Whirling blue eyes jump around from one baby, to the next - and there are no real words this time. Still, her excitement is tangible, bringing on a flood of spun-sugar smells and funnelcakes.

Only a few things could coax Euclath to stir from that pleasant doze of hide-oiling and the mental blanketfort that's he's happily building around it. The familiar bright-festive joy that he knew before hatching? On that very short list. Eyes eager-spin, bright and brighter, as blankets of lassitude explode out into streamers of eager-happy that scatter in the air. In another time, no dragon would ever have considered an explosion of threads like that to be joy - but here we are, moving forward into a bright new Pern. «Leirith!» His head pops up from Meion's lap, better to turn and look. But he doesn't actually rise, or move the part of his back that's being oiled. A dragon has limits.

Kayinth shakes his wedge shaped head slowly from side to side and puts himself in reverse, away from the evil bucket of water. Short stubby legs scrabble against the floor, wings catch at it, and then that tail! That tail stops his backward fleeing. « Steve! You've got to move too! It's wet! » Rin looks in in complete bafflement. "Kay…its just water. It feels really nice and it'll get you clean." She hears both Risali and Leirith enter, but she sort of has her hands full.

Garouth greets Leirith with a breeze that swirls around those funnelcakes and fair-foods, his pose at this point a relaxed one that's in keeping with the current relative quiet of babies napping or being oiled. Or bathed, at least in theory, but Kayinth's not seeming so sure about that one now that water is getting involved. D'lei grins, casting his gaze over to… hmmm. Has Risali become the host for some form of alien? Are chestbursters a thing now on Pern? It seems unlikely, but… what does he know? Not what's going on here, that's for sure. But he does extend a hand toward Risali in a greeting invitation that she could come over and join him… IF SHE DARES.

An oiled-up blood-lipsticked Ceru peeks over the edge of some cushions along with C'iel who meet the sweet festival smells and there is what can only be described as a citrus-burst of joy. From which first, it is hard to tell now. The Blue ALMOST gets up to greet but will have to settle for a flurry of almost wingy presence-hugs while C'iel tries desperately to keep him from shaking slick droplets about. "So good to see you!" He greets them both. One second, one second…

« MY EUCLATH! » Mental blankets got caught in a boom of sound, made to twist where minds meld and meet, dancing in a twist of fabric that she manipulates in her own giddy, eager, bombastic joy. There is no need for the blue to give up his comfort, not when his dam is a big enough dragon to plop her head right down by that body with a wuffle and a gentle press of nose that evacuates before she can really hinder Meion's work. « YOU CHOSE WELL. » A tilt of her head, attention momentarily directed at Meion (though her words are for Mei's lifemate). It's that breeze that unleashes the feathers fallen from masks, a twist of them in affection as Leirith attempts to internally deafen D'lei with, « SHE SAYS YOU CANNOT STOP HER. » And Risali's lips pull, a smile that speaks to amusement and mischief, punctuated by the defiant uptilt of her chin as she does come to join him, careful not to drop her Chestburster and possibly MURDER ALL THE WEYRLINGS as she slips her hand into his and squeezes. "Congratulations," gets whispered to Meion, as if she can counter her lifemate's bombastic voice. "And you, C'iel. They're all so…" Amazing. And there's a hesitation, a whinewhinewhine — that accusing look she gives Dash is a challenge — that comes from in her shirt as Risali's attention goes to Airin and Kay. "Do… do you need help?" Leirith is greeting those wings with a buffet of her own sound, maybe inching a little closer until Risali shoots her a look. SOON, CERU. SOON.

Somehow the compliment from Leirith has Meion's cheeks going pink. Was she still a little scared that Leirith didn't like her after the incident with Ibsy the "pet"? Or is Euclath's earnest enthusiasm just making it hard for her to maintain her usual slightly-distant composure in the face of things like enormous compliments? The world may never know. But she's saved from needing to say anything as Leirith and Risali move on quickly enough, and there's still more hide to be oiled as she gets most of the way down Euclath's back. There's so much to be done - and glancing around her, she realizes that she has the smallest of the hatchlings, and that this is the smallest he'll ever be. She's not going to gripe.

Airin looks hopefully to Risali as the offer is made. "He doesn't like the water!" Whoever heard of such a thing. "Its ok, Kay. Its not going to hurt you." But Kay is too busy at the moment, chiding his tail. The tail that is always moving in the way, and in this case, is stubbornly /not/ moving out of the way. « Steve, we must get away from the wet stuff. You're being unreasonable. » Says the little brown being unreasonable.

There are even some literal feathers puffed aside by Leirith's breath, because someone (not Garouth (this time)) brought a dead wherry for the baby dragons to play with, and while C'iel did not-his-job and cleaned much of it up… there's a few feathers left, here and there. D'lei tilts his head up to the gold herself, and grins. "That so?" he asks, with the sort of arch of eyebrows that says tell him more - or don't, because here's Risali to (not) tell him herself! He curls his fingers back to hers with a squeeze, eyeing her torso and its… unusually rotund and lumpy size… before he looks back up to her. Just one brow arched, now. "Risali," he says - without letting go of her hand, and with his voice mild in a way undercut with amusement that's just waaaiting for something (to be smacked, probably). "Before you go helping Kayinth -" Or Steve, or even Airin. "- maybe you should let those sweater puppies breathe."

There are simply not enough feathers in the world, so Ceruaudhart thinks. He leans out and snips one from the air, accidentally breaking the vein, then frowning and more delicately trying to usher ~another~ to pin to C'iel. The first was cute; the second is… charming. This is quickly going to become ridiculous. "They aaare…" C'iel fawns back at Risali, giving his Blue a bit more preening pride. «We did it right, didn't we?» Don't worry Meion, they'll learn how to bury you in compliments until you turn all sorts of funny colors. «What is wrong with being wet?» He wonders, just a bit like morning dew.

Of course Leirith loves you, Meion - she loves everybody. Even her Risali, who is a huge disappointment. Risali's eyes do catch on Meion's cheeks, and there's another quiet, knowing smile that temporarily distracts her from weyrmates and water-shy dragons, but Airin's voice pulls her back in before she can be caught staring in that space of time that borders on too rude. "Ah." Risali looks at Leirith, as if debating the abuse of a queen's command, and LEIRITH LOOKS BACK, as if telling her lifemate THAT SHE REFUSES. It was just a thought, Risali's expression says, while Leirith gets distracted by things much cuter than Risa. « YOU DID. YOU CHOSE WELL - ALL OF YOU. LOOK AT YOUR MINIONS. » And yes, that's pride, exuberant joy that maybe branches out to Garouth, that tells him to look at them without so much as giving an inclination to that thought. Risa, on the other hand, is trapped, and then flushing as D'lei cheats and her chin goes up with flustered defiance anyway even as she pulls her hand back to adjust her jacket. "I have no idea what you're accusing me of, bronzerider," she issues, even as she produces one VERY EAGER PUPPY, whose floppy ears go up at all the dragons, head tilting, tongue lolling, and then she's attempting to lick that expression of oh no I somehow managed to forget how cute she was off of Risali's face as the goldrider tips her into the bronzeriders arm. "I am innocent." It was puppy, okay. NOT PLURAL. And then she's moving to crouch beside Airin, looking at the bucket, to Kayinth, to his tail. "Maybe if you try scooping some up in your hand, and holding it out for him…?" SHE DOESN'T KNOW. She is looking around Airin to smile at C'iel though, a bite down on her bottome lip as she nods her agreement.

And along comes Tineangrath all wings and tail and OVER SHE GOES. Her enthusiasm to get to the action is her downfall, as a foot catches on a too-long wing and the young gold ends up in a pile of limbs. « Wait, where does that- Oh, no, that's not right, that goes there and- » She may intend to be talking to herself, but she shares her limb-confusion with the world at large as she sorts herself out. Not far behind her is Nessalyn, who's there to quietly kneel at her side and sort out that no, it's feet that go on the ground and not wings, and maybe keep that tail out of the way if you can. She's fresh from a nap and about as perky as they come, while Ness looks more like she's freshly risen from the grave, hovering in the general vicinity as Tineangrath goes trotting into the fray. « What are you doing? Is everyone okay? » She's concerned already.
Airin nods to Risali, leaves the bucket just behind her and kneels in front of Kay, gently turning his head away from Steve to look at her. She has to fight with the feelings from him of not-liking-the-wet-water, with the fact that she knows its perfectly fine. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt you, you know that, right? I know the water is wet, but that is its nature, and why it is so good at cleaning things. Like you." Faceted eyes meet hers and « Yes of course I trust you, dear heart. » Oh, that wintery landscape of love from him is enough to make Rin completely forget the task she had at hand as she looks into those eyes.

Meion is oiling Euclath, and definitely that is the only thing she is doing she is particularly not being embarrassed about compliments paid or trying hard not to think about things that it would be incredibly awkward for Euclath to know because he'd probably reveal them to everyone at the worst time. Simple, really. And apparently it is working well, because Euclath is calm and willing to do all his curiousing at things from within arm's reach of his lifemate and her wonderful, wonderful oil. « Is everyone? » It's a curious question in reply to Tineangrath's - does the gold know a reason things might not be? And should he be getting involved? If she needs him to, he'll selflessly - SELFLESSLY - go off only seven-eighths oiled to help!
"Mmhmm," says D'lei to Risali's 'no idea', like he doesn't even believe her. WHERE IS THE TRUST? …no idea, maybe the puppy ate it. The lurking amusement breaks free as the actual puppy is revealed - nothing funny, Risa just likes puppies - and unceremoniously dumped into his arms. From which, of course, she attempts to keep licking Risa's face, and probably would have tumbled down head-first if D'lei didn't put his other arm around to restrain her. There's a whine… but only for a moment, because then the puppy realizes that maybe there's another human and turns back to… GASP. It's D'lei! Time to LICKY ALL THE FACE. Which she does, with enthusiasm, and D'lei grins - but without opening his mouth, because puppy tongue. « Kayinth does not like water. » Garouth is helpful, explaining to Tineangrath that current source of agitation in the room! Though he's not about to go into any other recent agitations that may have happened while she slept. Dragon-time is all about the now after all, and right now? Kayinth has opinions. Also, D'lei has a puppy, apparently. These things happen, or at least, they just did.

Ceruadharth see his sister walking with SUCH enthusiasm and there is no way that he is going to let her look like the clumsy one in the room. No, not with his oversized wings and oversized… lots, which may result in an exaggerated FALL-half-tumble the short distance from couch to floor. Oh no, what a clutz I am, it seems to say, necklength splayed out to peer closer to PUPPY. «And what is that creature?» Though memories of face-licking both recently and distant is enough to make C'iel laugh in embarrassment and Ceru to rumble in amusement. "And what's their name?" Cee follows shortly, while taking advantage of the Blue's awkward positioning to oil a few awkward angles.

« HE IS HYPNOTIZING HER. » And Leirith is laughing, tilting her head to take in Tineangrath as she comes to CHECK IN ON HER SIBBOS and - ohp! TIMBERRRRR. « THAT WAS A GOOD ATTEMPT, TINEANGRATH. » But then she is quiet, head tilting as she finds a private path down to Garouth's mind, no less giddy, no less sunbright, no less eager joy, but certainly quieter, the music gone and replaced with dancers. « She is beautiful. » Blue eyes fix on the new queen, back onto the brindled bronze. « They all are. » It's almost like a thank you, but she's gone before it can fully register, back to that constant thrum of indiscriminate sound. « IT IS BECAUSE HE IS A BADASS, » Leirith assures - probably both for Tine and Euclath (whom is getting another thorough inspection from Mom). BUT OH NO A TUMBLE. Leirith shifts-shuffles-scoots a little closer and BOOPS THAT SNOOT WITH HER OWN SNOOT. WHO MADE YOU THIS CUTE, CERU? SHE NEEDS TO HAVE A WORD. « IT IS A PUPPY. THEY ARE LOYAL TO OUR MINIONS. WE DO NOT EAT THEM. » Cheer, JOY! As for the name? Welllll… Risali is looking away from Airin to C'iel, to Meion, to Nessalyn, back to D'lei where her expression softens into something quietly adoring. Who sent you. Still, she musters up as much mischief into her voice as she says, "She does need a name, D'lei. We can't just call her puppy."

There's a quiet, "Nooo…" from Nessalyn's quarter as Euclath's question strike a chord with Tineangrath. Is everyone okay? Not just here, but everywhere? Now that the reach of that question has been extended, she looks toward the older dragons in askance. WELL? But wait… there's a puppy. Good intentions to fix EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE are set aside in favor of puppy. « I don't know, but it's adorable! » That poor puppy is about to get a curious gold nosing about in addition to Ceruadharth's inspection. « What is not to like about water? » she asks curiously, though she's quick to add, « Not that there is anything wrong with not liking something, if that is how you feel. » People (and dragons) are entitled to their opinions! And she can't see how not liking water would hurt anyone, so it's fine. "Cat is just Cat." Nessalyn offers quietly, not overly eager to involve herself in this. That's Tineangrath's job. « What is a 'Cat'? » She plucks the memory from her chosen's mind, huffing when it seems that the animal does not have a true name. « We can't just call things what they are! Everything deserves a name. »

For a terrifying moment, Meion can feel the vibration of an amplifier starting to warm up; that oscillation and constructive interference between Euclath and Tineangranth as both edge toward awareness of existential fear. But before that reaction can spiral into full-blown cascade, a dampening force is introduced, and it is puppy-shaped. Also puppy-sized, puppy-looking, and - for better or worse - puppy-smelling. Because it is a puppy. A puppy is a natural magnet for curiosity, and Euclath cranes his neck to try to get the best view he can without disrupting his Very Important Oiling. Meion is a very important person! It wouldn't do to inconvenience her by making her pause in her oiling duties!

Airin is rather hypnotized, but shakes herself free of it when Kay gets a bit distracted by…« Puppy? » Rin takes that chase to get a little water in her hand and show it to the cat-like brown. "See? It won't hurt you. And…I'm sorry you don't like it, but will you put up with it for me? To be clean?" Kayinth adores her! Of course he will put up with it for her! His tail twitches though, as Rin gets the sponge wet and starts to carefully scrub the blood off of his hide. She really does try to make it the least 'wet' she can make it. So he doesn't end up all drippy. And at least he doesn't have to get /in/ the stuff.

Garouth doesn't answer Leirith, not with words, but there's a swirl of light and darkness, spun together faster, faster, until they explode outward into a sky of shining stars that overlaps these barracks as it floats down and sinks in to those here. He's quiet, content, watching. Much as he often was on the sands, really, only now he's got to look around more in order to keep an eye on all the babies, because they got legs… and also wings, and tails. Also? Curiosity about puppies, which that little grey-furred girl is more than happy to reciprocate. HELLO, strange snoots! She's gonna lick you now, her tail thumpa-thumping against D'lei's side as she applies her tongue to the task of distra-licking-loving! And D'lei applies his arms to the task of keeping her from falling on her face. « Puppies do not know their names when they are born, » Garouth is solemn as he reveals this strange fact about canines. And what's more? « Neither do humans. » Non-draconic life is weird. D'lei manages to look over to Risali for long enough to give her a look - tipped down chin and grin - for that mischief. "How about Distraction?" he suggests… though really, that might still just be calling her what she is.

This is a GOOD LESSON to learn early: Friends are not Food. Ceru responds to the BOOP with an eye-slit and a fond nuzzle to Mom because who wouldn't nuzzle Mom. Fortunately he is mostly clean and doesn't transfer any marks. «They're small. But they're… good.» Very good at convincing Minion and Dragon alike to their charms. And they do not know their names? «How do they know if theirs is the right one? Is that the right one?» How do you find it? C'iel ponders this a while while moving, oiling, musing. "Water… water… oh, I am looking forward to a good long soak, again…" C'iel sighs. But then, this sort of treatment IS very nice—even if he's the one doling it out to Ceru, and not getting it himself. What an odd thought.

This is simply shocking news, Garouth. Tineangrath turns to look at her sire as though his words simply don't form into any kind of logical sentence. « But how do they not know? » It matters little that she wouldn't be able to explain how she did know if someone asks. « How do they not know their names. » She looks at her siblings, perhaps for confirmation about how odd this is, or perhaps simply to see if they have a different perspective. Then, suddenly, « How do you know that they don't know their names? » NO ONE HERE IS SPEAKING PUPPY.

And there's the amplifier humming to life, having incorporated the puppy into the circuit. « We should ask the puppy! » A sweep of tangleweb thoughts run tree to tree through the underbrush of Euclath's mind as he tries to figure out how one focuses on a not-dragon-not-rider type of being. Ideas tangle one to the next, as he looks at the puppy with eyes all awhirl. « WHAT'S YOUR NAME? » Oh no. He has a little bit of his mother's voice, too.

Kayinth looks to his sister, « That is an excellent question. Perhaps they do. » He endures the -wet-water- with dignity, and it helps when Rin dries him off after. There is oil for the washed places, as the rest was still nicely oiled from before. He is comfortable there on the floor, with a full tummy, and clean hide, and /his/ Airin. He only moves enough to climb into her lap and promptly falls asleep. With a soft sigh, Rin smiles and strokes his head. Looks like her next nap is going to be right here, out on the floor. So much for setting up the pillows on the couch!

Garouth has no answers for the mystery of puppy! Or the mystery of names, either. His head sways around to over D'lei's head, the better to look down and observe his children interacting with that puppy… who is super enthuse. So many NEW FRIENDS… because of course that's what they are. She's a puppy, and she knows from friendship! Such waggly tail, such many licks, such wiggling all about until she almost but doesn't quite fall down! Leirith is just beaming at this, pleased by her BEAUTIFUL BABIES - and Risali is going to at least help Airin out with a pillow or two, since she's going to be stuck out on the floor. D'lei, well… he's got his hands full, because squirming happy puppy - at least, until Euclath beams a direct message into the tangle of neurons that is puppy-brain. Those ears perk, because it sounds like sound, but - but - "Bark!" Well, that's one answer. "Bark-barka-bark!" And another one. Or maybe three more? "Whine-whine-whine…" Quick look around from puppy, a check on everyone who's there, aaaand… "BARK!"

Ceru looks to C'iel like 'did you get any of that?' But all he can really reply is, "I think he likes us." Optimistic, perhaps, but satisfying enough for the Blue at the moment. It is a little amazing that the hatchlings can sleep through the adorable racket—though maybe not THAT amazing. Ceruadharth is low at risk of falling asleep on the floor, because even as he catches himself he is firmly ingrained in this: high places are suitable ones for rest. So when the urge takes him, he goes that way with little fanfare and takes C'iel along with. «Maybe their name is (bark, bark, whine)» is a last given thought before the sun sets on that particular forest, and warm shadows hide vision and thought alike. C'iel might get a few parting fare-well gestures and promises for later chatter before he too is gone to rest. Easy come, easy go, for these two it seems…

THE PUPPY IS THE CUTEST THING ALIVE AND, "No, Tin, we're not getting a puppy." Tineangrath droops in disappointment, and something in Nessalyn's expression twitches. "Don't." Please don't look all sad and wounded, it makes her feel feelings she doesn't want to feel. « Maybe you're right, » she tells Ceruadharth, before making a growly sound that's probably meant to approximate a bark, only dragons aren't made for barking. « Is that your name? » She waits patiently for an answer she's not likely to get, when Ness speaks up, "Maybe you should call it-" « SPLEEN. » Aaaand that's the techcrafter's cue to stop speaking.

Euclath stares in rapt concentration. This is a puzzle to be solved. He could be the first dragon on Pern to learn to speak Canine. Unlock new vistas of knowledge! If… he had any idea where to even begin. He looks up to Meion, Tineangrath, Leirith, hoping one of them caught some sort of a way to begin. Nothing. « Maybe humans are the only ones who don't know their names. » Slightly-resigned, all the taut strands of his thought droop a little. « But it seems that puppies can't share them with us. »

Puppy has made her point! ….whatever it was. Now she wags her tail, and… sorry, Tineangrath, she's not even looking at you for that 'question'. She's too busy licking D'lei's face again, because - when you're a puppy - there are priorities, and one of them is licking faces. Helping enthusiastic dragons figure out your name? Evidently not. It's just not on the list of Puppy Life Goals. « Is there a difference between a name that does not exist and a name we can never know? » Garouth asks, a tug against one of Euclath's thought-strands to link it from puppy-linguistics through semiotics into the nature of communication in general and also relativism. It's a deep darkness around those trees, it is! D'lei, well… he's got his arms full of puppy. It's kind of a full-puppy job.

Okayokayokay. Risali has finished helping Airin lay out pillows and she's back on her feet, moving back towards D'lei, back towards that puppy who conjures curiosity and maintains her AIR OF MYSTERY all by being so incredibly cute. "Enigma," Risali says then, eyes going from the cute trying to give D'lei mouth-to-mouth repupitation (GET IT). « SPLEEN IS A BETTER NAME. » But Risali is holding her arms back out to take over-enthuse puppy back, just in case D'lei is done harboring the wiggling mass of tail, and tongue, and tiny-excitable limbs. Still, Leirith is tilting her head, looking from Garouth to their progeny, silent a moment as she considers and then - softer: « We give ours their names; ours give theirs their names. » Sunbright, giddy cheer. « If they are born with names, it seems that they come to accept what ours call them - much like ours accept the new names we sometimes give to them. » DRAGON LOGIC.

Somewhere in all of the midst of feathers and staring at a carcass which beckoned that non-contained urge of violence and hording bits and pieces of 'treasures' away in his couch which is hardly hidden at all BUT WHO CARES for right now, Zyddagath had fallen asleep on the far other side of the barracks, probably almost to where Ki'lian was going to find food. There was only so long that satisfying one of their stomachs and not both was going to cut it. It worked for a little while, because when your world is turned upside down and you've at some point fallen over the edge of it into something both far worse, hunger is something easily forgotten unless it is that void that is hungry. Somehow, he'd eventually gotten out of that robe. Somehow, he had found something to eat which vanished in seconds in that ravenous state he's in, and then he was kneeling on the floor with an oil bucket and cloth and tending to dry spots of hide his dragon needn't really be concious to point out to him. Tending like a man rapt in little else than reverence. Or hypnotism, whatever. What doesn't matter is how wrong or, by some descriptors, terrible the overcooked dragonet may be. Doesn't matter how 'worse' whatever it is Ki'lian has found himself in mentally, because it sure as hell doesn't appear so with how he so-intensely watches the young bronze. Zyddagath stirs from the middle of the floor, having really ended up stretched out across the hallway but neither man nor dragonet cared if that was a problem to anyone. Yaaaaawn is that wiiiiide stretch of maw, snapped shut in the wicked sound of his predacious fang. Awakened again, the sense of his presence returns to prevelance within the mindpool of the room (and probably beyond that, let's be real, because ain't no filter). Those sensations that come with fear. The chill and tickle crawling up the spine. The watching the presence of an unknown thing. The everdark and abyssal tainted waters stretching out to infinity as the horizon is lost beneath the indistinction of that fog. He slept through Leirith's arrival. That was some good sleep. Clearly. Zyddagath tilts his head to examine her, is quiet for a long time in dragging thoughts from His own, then, « And what if we give a different name? » of dragons, of people, of himself- the latter is probably more accurate. A day-old schemer has begun. « What if they do not deserve to know a name? They must then accept whatever we tell them, aye? » 'They' is left incredibly vague enough to maybe mean EVERYONE. Ki'lian remains kneeling with oil cloth in hand far over there, a bit of tension in his jaw from something, his gaze moving from D'lei to Risali. But he remains quiet. He's probably never been so quiet for so long in his life, guys.

It is a disappointment that they can't all speak puppy (squirrel!), but Tineangrath shakes that off relatively quickly. Even without the ability to communicate, the puppy seems happy. « I would think that there is a very big difference for the puppy, » she suggests to Garouth, thoughtful. « But not for us. » Because they will NEVER KNOW. The little gold seems pleased that her entirely random suggestion of 'Spleen' - or rather, the suggestion she decided Nessalyn was making - is so well-received. « That was my Nessalyn's idea. » NO IT WASN'T. « She will be so happy if the puppy is named Spleen. » Nessalyn is rubbing a point above one eyebrow, looking faintly pained. « Everyone deserves to know a name. »

Euclath weighs the name "Spleen." He doesn't know what makes a good name, but Tineangrath and Leirith both seem happy with it, so that's a good sign! Meion is not going to argue. Not when she's just finished oiling the last patches of dry hide, and there's a chance she might be able to find herself a little rest. She rises slowly, crossing the room to the small couch that she claimed for Euclath and herself, and props herself up with pillows. It's only a moment before the tug of her weariness crosses the distance to the little blue, and he comes flowing along the ground to slink up from it and settle along next to her. Sleep seemed to be interesting, last time he did it - but now he's having trouble remembering what it was that was so interesting. This time, he's going to try really hard to remember! The faint buzz of his concentration fades to a blanketing stillness as sleep claims him quickly.

D'lei nods to acknowledge Risali's suggestion of a name, though he's maybe not going to actually open his own mouth while the licks are coming so fast and friendlyous. He does, however, pass that canine back over the Risali - her turn to get face-licks and handle wriggles - and grins. "Carefully Planned Idea," he suggests right back, now that he's not going to get a tongue in his mouth for his trouble. "Capli, for short." Because that's a bit of a mouthful, and not of tongue! « One name does not erase another one. » Garouth is considering, deep in shadows. « They each have their meanings, and that which is suitable may be used. » Which may be borderline tautological, but that probably depends what angle it is you're looking at it from. Shadows are like that. Garouth lifts his head, glancing to Zyddagath with amber-flecked green in his eyes and dappled shadows in his thoughts. « If you desire to be called a name, it is yours. » His tone is straightforward, as if the matter's a simple one. « Name yourself as you wish. »

WAUUUUGH. IT HAS SUCH LOVE, such love that is directed RIGHT ON RISA'S FACE and has the weyrwoman scrunching her nose, as much as she scrunches her mouth and her eyes closed. It doesn't deter that smile, though - or that huff of INDADVISABLE LAUGHTER that gets her a puppy tongue. But she's WRASSLING POOCH back into her jacket and zipping it back up. "Capli is cute, but it was more a of a…" She draws out the vowel, tipping her shoulders, looking devious when she says, "Heist." SHE'S A THIEF. Speaking of thieves, why hello there, Zydd. THAT ONE IS YOUR FAULT, GAROUTH. At least, that's what Risali's shuffle to the bronze, and boop to his nose with one finger seems to say. She pats brindled hide though, perhaps soothing away that non-verbal tease, admiring the dragon for just a moment before her attention is back on that puppy head that POPS OUT of the top of her sweater, now content to look (and okay, lick the bottoms of chins). And grey eyes find Ki'lian, his look to her returned, the pull of her lips a muted caricature of congratulations because she is privy to much through Leirith's mind. The queen stares back at her progeny, BUT SHE IS UNDAUNTED. A BOOP FOR YOU, LITTLE SKELETAL BADASS. TAKE HER MOM-LOVE. « THEN IT IS PROBABLY INANIMATE, LIKE A TABLE, IN WHICH CASE IT IS NOT BADASS AND THEREFORE DOES NOT NEED TO BE NAMED. » A tilt of her head for Tine, a boop for the gold as well. And Risa is back at Dash's side, brows raising as she tilts her head to look at him and makes with some of that silent communication thing that comes with turns of knowing a person. Also: "We are not naming her Spleen." « WE WILL CHANGE HER MIND, TINEANGRATH. »

Ki'lian stands slowly, stiffly. The soreness of his body a culmination of things, and saddly none of them of the pleasurable sort. A travesty, really. Especially now when there are all these rules and things that he hasn't the desire to even breech the subject yet with the charred and corroded ghostship dragonet. That natural pitch sheen spilt o'er the splintered, ruined, sundered edges of him shines more now under hide oil coating as he makes his way partially down the room, caught in the lighting that otherwise falls to void and black and nothingness in the the angular depths of him. The answer granted by his sire is… acceptable, and a shift in the scourged waters where something comes closer- maybe in that fog, maybe from far, far below in the abyss itself where nothing alive nor good nor pleasant could be crafted. No shipfish reside there, of course. Nothing of corporeal being, no. This is happy Zydd, you see. Or as happy as this beast gets. « That cannot be. » The formed sensation of words drawled from the Stygian waters comes for his golden sibling, « Not everyone deserves everything. Should everything not be earned? » Everything is a lot of something. But if everything is given to everyone, where is the value? Does he even understand 'value' yet? However serious he may have gotten of that, it is fully and heartily interrupted by a giant golden snoot booping his own. He pauses there abruptly and completely, as if his nose was a button and it turned whatever animate qualities of him 'off'. Ki'lian meets greys with seablues, but rather than the bold intensity so much more typical of him, there's a nod- and that is all. His wrapped hand rubs at the back of his neck as he drops the connection first, looking to a table to toss the rag onto and then retract the distance gained between him and His. « That makes it… unimportant. » The things that need-not-be-named, that is, like tables.

« But what if it does not like the name we choose? » Say someone were to choose a terrible name, like Spleen? WHAT THEN, GAROUTH? Tineangrath isn't nearly as intense as Leirith's capslock, but she does look to her sire for guidance again. "I think you are naming her Spleen." Because there are two dragons who think it's a marvelous idea, and at least one of them will keep calling that puppy Spleen until the name is forgotten. She can't really boop her mama back, baby that she is, but she still bounces with an eagerness to return the gesture. « I think she likes Spleen. » But Tineangrath is still open to other ideas, should anyone suggest something better. It's just that Spleen is what her Nessalyn wanted, and she wants everything her Nessalyn wants! Except excessive fires, hurting feelings, and theft. BUT EVERYTHING ELSE. « Of course everyone deserves everything! Why would you want anyone to have less than others? » she is beyond bewildered, and perhaps faintly distressed by the thought that someone might have less. What was that question from earlier regarding everyone being okay? EXISTENTIAL CRISIS INCOMING. And just like that, Nessalyn swoops in to guide the little gold away, to somewhere less filled with questions and more filled with food. Or naps. Literally anything else.

« If we see it is unhappy with a name we give - » which, okay, real question, because nobody here has yet managed to speak Puppy except the puppy « - we will change the name. » Not that the puppy probably actually cares, let's be honest. Spleen? JUST FINE, though the humans might disagree. BAD DOG? …okay, that one might be a problem, but that's about the line they'll have to cross for the puppy to care. Still, Garouth can assure Tineangrath that - at an indication of canine name dysphoria - alterations will be made, because they will. As for Zyddagath… well. « Have you earned the right to ask that? » There's no accusation in his question, no ire behind the words. Garouth is just… asking, since the matter of earned value has been raised. And sure, there could be some vigorous debates that - or about tables, names, spleens, and all the rest of it - but no. Garouth speaks again, this time directed to Leirith and their riders. « We are called. » Important weyr business! …at least, if you consider Zekath saying that dinner's almost ready to be important weyr-type business. At least, as D'lei puts his arm around Risali to take her (and the puppy) out - the dragons following, or maybe charging past - he makes a comment that sounds like a question about the hot springs and kitchens sterilization, and the progress thereof… with maybe some implications of potential completion in there, too. So hey, maybe there is some actual Weyr business in there! WORKING DINNER. But… yeah, one way or another, they're outta here.

« Aye. » The writhing, pregnant fog culminates, thickens, becomes entrenched with a sense of Dread and Encroachment of nightmare and numbness and End. That answer carries with it the inflection of 'of course' or 'how could there be any question of that- do you understand who I am?''. Zyddagath's attention span is more than one's typical hatchling, but it has been long since he's eaten. Hours, mind you. Between exploration and naps and observation of others' weaknesses and short-comings (is that even possible when they're this young? Obviously, it is.) much time has passed. Ki'lian exhales as D'lei and Risali leave, and the clutchparents beside. Really, how much of his reservations are physical discomfort, a continual scrambling for mental footing, or avoiding disaster when such a spotlight has been shed on him, is unclear- and likely a strong combination of all of the above. There is no hiding when there's only six weyrlings. There's no easy evasion of conversations to come, aside from wordplay which perhaps- yes- is only strengthened by the dragonet that has claimed his soul. A crooked, devilish smirk draws itself faintly on his rugged face, hefting a bucket and knife from the table to return it and its juicy, meaty contents to the treasure island of a couch, that Brethren Court that doesn't exactly bid them the sort of secrecy they desire- which is, for others, nothing but a good thing.

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