Flying and Falling

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.

C'iel for some early days must look lucky. Ceruadharth is mild mannered, curious, but without having the tendency to start trouble or fights. And the Blue has developed a Natural fondness for the raised cushioning on the couch, because, let's face it, he needs heights. What time is it — just beyond the reach of Twilight, or something so far from both bed and morning that it may as well be Between? — C'iel awakens with an ache and a start to the sound. Like a gale striking the wall of a forest, the thrash of needles and leaves and then the very distinct WHUD of a wide-sailed baby dragon tumbling, and then scrabbling on the ground with a low, and apparently self-directed little snarl and gnash. C'iel… will be up as soon as he recovers from that sudden shock.

Sleep is still occupying Meion, but her lifemate is awake enough to see his brother's tumble. Euclath is curled against her back, head lifted slightly to survey the room as he conducts analysis of just how much he can see in the faint twilight of well-dimmed lamps. He's in immediate contact with the larger (but still far from large) blue hatchling. « What happened? » There's an edge of fear to the question, and it's easy to see how he is still the creature from that egg, scared of shadows until he knows why they exist. Meion stirs, as dreams turn to night-forest, with an all-too-fragile shield of loose-woven hopes circling the clearing where she's resting. She "wakes" into Euclath's mindscape, without opening her eyes or recalling her body yet.

Perhaps greater than the pain of falling is knowing that his brother witnessed this particularly humiliating venture. Ceru does not lash out but also does not share evidence of the throb in a forequarter. «Nothing.» Violet wisps of light flicker and fade to cyan-gleamed white with an enforced calmness. The dragonlet leans weight upon his opposite side and pushes himself up. «I am alright.» C'iel, recovering, slides his bare feet onto the floor and makes his way over to the Blue to offer support. "… mostly. I'll want to take a look at that foot." Though if anything was truly wrong, it's doubtful that Ceruadharth COULD hide it from C'iel. There is an irritated flutter still echoing to Euclath and Meion that they may pick up upon. «You've flown before?» It's not actually CLEAR who that question is directed at.

Euclath's concern eases quickly. « I hadn't thought anyone else was awake. » And Meion, sleeping and there in dragon-mind, listens curiously to the conversation with the haze of dream-logic around her. « I haven't managed it yet, either. Were you trying to? » And there's Meion's mind-voice half-coming through from dreams to Euclath and Ceruadharth. // I flew with Leirith and Garouth… // She's not sure if that counts, exactly, or what the question means, or why it's relevant - but she's also spilling thoughts in her sleep as she drifts too close to Euclath's mind.

«It looked easy when he did it.» But of course it would, a Bronze of so many years. Now that the pair are up, they do not immediately return and Ceru yields that forearm to C'iel to inspect more closely, sharing a mutual wince. «… trying, yes. It is strange that you got to feel it first.» For Meion, for C'iel. More bemused than jealous, if the glimmer of pink and the faint caw-ish tickle of laughter has anything to say. Cee, more practically, rests his forehead against Ceruadharth's shoulder and sighs. "When is it…?" If it's close to morning, he'll push through.

Dragonbody uncurls from Meion's back, as Euclath pours himself to the ground, one foot at a time, and weaves his way around in the quarter-light to where Ceru is. Slender muzzle comes poking in where C'iel is checking for injury. « What are you doing? » A pause to consider that question, and: « It's now. » True, if not useful. Without the press of dragon against her back, Meion is starting to stir as well, trying to reconcile the forests of her dragon-dream with the dim shapes of couches and sleeping hatchlings.

Ceruadharth tilts his head a bit watching his brother's steady approach and smiles. Someone is getting used to those legs, aren't they. "Gently," C'iel indicates, raising a palm to but not quite touching that snoot yet. "Feeling. If… you hit something, or something hits you hard, it can break things." Parts of you. Strong, fascinating, sinewy and armored dragony parts that nonetheless can go the way of their wonderful chew-toys. A creature's own weight might easily be the cause of that injury, too. "Nothing broken," he assures. "But will be sore a day or two… then will feel as good as always." Ceru allows his Euclath's inspection, though not without a good brotherly snooting and snuffling first. Manners. «That was.. hardly worth it.»

Euclath nudges his face against his brother's, projecting confident understanding. The fringe benefit of being the smallest sibling, with wings that take no growing-into: he's prowling about the room like he was hatched knowing how to walk! (Disregard any evidence that N'kon may have obtained while on the hatching sands. Who are you going to trust?) « Did you learn anything from almost-flying? » An experiment has been carried out, and it Would Not Do for results to go disregarded.

Ceruadharth in turn looks like he popped out of that egg with fully adult wings to go with his hatchling body, which is MARVELOUSLY fashionable in a coattail kind of way and utterly miserable for getting about in anything other than a slow drag. A trait that is now butting up against a certain impatience. «Yes.» Soft, confident in reply. «Falling is fun until you hit the floor.» To which C'iel waves both palms and frowns. "Falling is NOT fun. Flying is fun and… bother. Falling IS fun." He can't deny it himself. "You just — you can't — not onto something hard. Or sharp." Or a whole LITANY of things that would end the fun in an instant. Still, he's lost in a bit of thought that drifts between sleep and dream-scape, a bit of fog over gnoll. "… hm."

Euclath files facts away from C'iel and Ceruadharth with equal weight. « So, it's better to fall onto something that isn't hard or sharp. » That's the logical conclusion. Meion sits up slowly, blinking awake and squinting. "Who's falling, now?" She has half-awake voice, but she's quickly remembering that the cavern is real, the forest is Euclath, and the exam she showed up naked for is that dream she's been having since she was a first-turn apprentice. Important things to get sorted!

"I would try a pillow, at a gentle speed, preferably right before a long… nap…" C'iel's vision falls for a moment into a bower where those wisps linger, and then snaps back to the cavern again at the touch of scales on his forehead. "Ceru took a bit of a tumble." «A bit of a ~flight.~» "Yes, a most elegant one." Followed by more of a snout-bump than a nip. "Can't stop dreaming about flying…" He murmurs. Ceru lifts his head and peers at his brother and half-here Meion. «What are you dreaming about?»

Meion blinks herself awake. "Was dreaming about… the forest?" That was the more recent part - and the part that's less awkward to explain, certainly. It all fades a little, fuzzy around the edges. "Mmf. Why are we awake?" She looks to the window, where the sky is clear and starry, and any light out there is certainly not an indicator of day. « I was done sleeping », Euclath answers. And that's enough reason, of course. At least for her - and really, who else was Euclath going to explain it for?

C'iel smiles a bit at that, idly brushing Ceru's shoulder. "Because one of us is getting excited about flying." Ceru glances back with one masked eyelid raised. «Wouldn't you?» Which of course he can't deny. He nods, and considers Meion's dreams which are perfectly normal and not at all awkward to him. "A forest. That's… familiar. I used to be afraid of them." Used to. Ahh, the stars catch their eyes for a long moment of quiet wonder. "… why don't we get something to drink then." «Or to eat.» "… ah, yes. Not the worst idea…" Especially if it will convince them to take another nap before morning comes.

Airin and Kayinth have been doing the eating, the sleeping, the oiling, the growing, the repeating thing. He still insists on sleeping in her lap, cat like. How much longer can that go on? They are in the just-finished-sleeping part of the cycle. It doesn't matter that its dark out, because it is time for brown stomachs to be fed. Again. If it is one thing Kay does well, its eat. He's had no trouble putting on weight since his hatching. Not one problem at all. Rin yawns and trudges over to the table to start chopping up some meat, while the brown slowly stretches and takes his time getting off his couch. To avoid the stumbling and tripping that seems to still be his norm. Just seems those wings and tail are always in the way, or in case of his heavy tail, a literal pain in the tushy.

C'iel will give Meion a moment's peace to finish rousing, or to pass out properly while he goes not long after Airin to the tables. "Good whatever time it is…" He offers in a soft whisper, and takes to his own prep. It's going to be a bit SLOW with that phantom pain lingering in his dominant hand. Ceruadharth bobs his head to Airin to welcome him to waking, again, and watches with quietude before giving a soft *puff* of breath over that dragon tail… encouragingly?

Airin offers a sleepy murmur of something like a 'hello' to C'iel while Kay offers a more wakeful greeting to his lifemate. His tail, on the other hand, with its mind of its own curls about Ceruadharth. « If Steve bothers you, let me know. »

V'ayn and Varequoth are notably /not/ in the barracks despite the ungodly hour, but it seems that the two are finally returning. « Now how do y'all expect to get strong, when yer just laying about all day? » The deep, smooth drawl of the bronze's voice carries across the barracks, his baritone almost silken in nature. "You were sleeping earlier," is quickly pointed out by his life mate, though accidental punishment for the statement is quick to follow. As they walk through the barracks there's an awkwardness about Varequoth's gait, his turned-out knees causing fore and backless to move in unison. As he moves there's an inevitable swaying of his long tail, which happens to hit V'ayn /right/ on the things.

Meion blinks herself awake from another slight doze as Euclath comes up and nudges against her knees deliberately. The forest in his mind is full of prowling, stalking, hunting - and Meion knows enough to know what he wants. "I'll chop something up for you." He paces himself to stay alongside her as she heads to join Airin at the cutting table. « Can we try hunting soon? » That's just what Meion needs. Even if Euclath seems to have his own mobility pretty much down, she's pretty sure he's not up for anything quite like that. "After you've had more practice with targets that aren't trying to dodge." Eyes slowly color-shift, verging on petulant. That's not the answer he wanted.

Ceruadharth feels that he has invited this curl from Steve, and Steve gets snuffled. «Steve seems a reasonable guest so far. Compared to…» Glance. Others. Steve might be SOCIAL but he's hardly a rabble rouser. Chop, chop, goes C'iel a couple times before he has to flex his fingers and give a pause. No, he's just going to have to push through it. And a little humor helps as both he and Ceru snicker at the same time, a beat after the hunting request. «… I do not waddle. I glide.» Ceru flicks his wings. "… well. Everything is hiding and sleeping right now. Not much good to hunt…" For some definition of 'soon,' this might give room for something else to distract his thoughts! «What were ~you~ practicing out there?» Ceru wonders to Varequoth. Out! What a novel concept to explore.

Airin doesn't even want to get started about Steve. Kay agrees, « He can cause…mischief. » Steve is indeed behaving himself, just snuggling around Cerudharth all innocently. Rin choppity chop chops, filling the rather large bowl she had snagged. Kay sweeps his sunny winter day thoughts towards his brother, « I wish I did not waddle. How do you glide? I want to hunt. But apparently we have to walk and run and climb and things to hunt. » Unless some other nice older dragon brings in another wherry to pounce. He liked that… a lot.

V'ayn lets out quite the series of expletives, which has Varequoth chuckling, his deep mind voice audible to all of those in the barracks. « Whether it's waddlin' or glidin', getting around s'all that matters. Which is exactly what we've been doin'…explorin'.» As the bronze makes his way towards their space his swaying tail manages to hit something else /yet again/. This time it's a jar of oil that's somehow ended up on the floor near Nessalyn's space. « Don't worry, the boy will clean it up. » And V'ayn certainly will, he's already letting out a sigh and searching for some rags.

Euclath stares up at Meion's progress making food for him - and gets a fresh cut piece to chew on for his troubles. His mental focus is on his freshly-returned sibling, though. «What did you find?» This may be an opportunity to learn a bit more by careful listening - presuming that the bronze is talkative enough to share.

As seems to be becoming habit, it's Tineangrath who makes her appearance first, fresh from her latest nap and already on her way to the exit. LET'S GO, THERE ARE THINGS TO SEE AND DO. Nessalyn is far less awake, rubbing at her eyes and yawning as she emerges from their area. She's mid-stretch when Tineangrath hits that spilled oil and goes slip-sliding, smacking into something solid before she flips over onto her back. It's a credit to the techcrafter's exhaustion that she merely blinks for a moment, staring at the scene before sleepy brain catches up and she moves to check on her dragon. « What happened? The ground didn't work right. » She knows that's where feet go, now, but that means you're supposed to be able to walk on it!

Mischief. Ceruadharth grins at that, and gives Steve a proper nuzzle before jerking up at the sound of an oil jar being knocked over. «… mm. You tuck your wings so that no one can see your feet. And then you move very slowly.» Ask an honest question, get an honest answer. Even if beneath lies the betrayal of a terrible secret. "I'll… clean that up…" C'iel half-heartedly, or half-awakely volunteers, but he can only do one chore at a time!. If Euclath gets some, then Ceru does as well. A tossed chunk bounces off a snout that snaps, then picks it up from the floor with gratitude. He REALLY wants to hear what Varequoth found, but also wants to make sure his sister is okay! Which means he's in a hurry, which means… bumbly waddles and a big snoot. «Falling.» A pause. «Was it fun?»

Airin looks over at the language, and then the toppling, and the slipping and sliding. "Are you all ok?" Kay also wants to know if they are ok, though is question comes without words, but a wintery forest instead, but a question all the same. He also considers the answer. He has no trouble with his wings covering his feet..but the opposite. They cover them so well he trips on them all too often.

Varequoth watches as Tineangrath finds herself on the floor and within moments, tail /still/ swaying around unhelpfully the bronze makes his way over. « Need a paw up, little lady? » Draconic teeth flash as the bronze dips his head, voice all honey and chocolate because he's /already/ trying to be a charmer despite his young age. V'ayn, for his part, has found some drags and is quickly throwing them onto the floor. And kneeling on THE FLOOR. He hates every second of it, but there he is scrubbing. "She didn't hurt herself, did she Ness?" Eyebrows raise in the tech crafter's direction, though he isn't sure if she even hear him in all that sleepiness!

Euclath doesn't rush over to aid Tinean when he catches the mental jolt of her slip. He crouches, leaps to an unoccupied chair, and from it to the top of the cutting table, where he can survey the room and get a better idea of what's happening. From his new, heightened vantage, he's got a sense of the goings-on in the bustling predawn cavern - but he's no more sure of how best he might help. Meion's attention gets tugged in the same direction - but this time, there's enough of a gentle shift that she sets down the knife she was using before she rises to look. "Do you need something else to help clean that up?"

The oil makes it a bit more difficult for Tineangrath to regain her feet than usual, because everything is slippery and as soon as Nessalyn's hands come into contact with her dragon, she's all slippery too. « I'm fine, thank you. And that is very kind, but I think this is an occasion where human hands are of more use. » While the former is shared with all of her siblings, the latter is directed more toward Varequoth, although she has not yet perfected the art of turning her thoughts in only one direction. « It wasn't not fun, » she offers after a moment, once the combined efforts of Nessalyn and Tineangrath get the gold to her feet again. "Head over there, I'll clean you up," the techcrafter murmurs, gesturing toward the area with all those oiling rags. She just gets an extra shine today! "She's fine," is repeated for V'ayn's benefit, a hint of agitation behind that sleepiness. She just woke up and now she has to work. Curse you, V'ayn.

Ceru makes way as best a bumbly Blue can for Varequoth's SO CHARMING advance. «Oh, good. I took a bit of a tumble earlier.» He rolls a shoulder, leaving out the fact that he found the first part QUITE fun. To be fair, he initiated his own fall. «She's not that.. little though, is she.» C'iel pauses a stroke from finishing Breakfast, or Ceru's breakfast, peering back. The cavern is suddenly so very lively again, despite the hour. "Maybe we should… make sure a few things stay out of tail range." And now he's distracted making a quick inventory of what all might be in the DANGER ZONE. Spoilers. With this lot, it's everything.

Airin is glad she's done with the meat because there is now a baby dragon on the cutting table and that probably isn't a good combination. Knives and baby dragons that is. She turns to go to Kay and is surprised, shocked, and amazed to see Syl down Woah… She settles down on the edge of their couch with Kay following to lay down by, and somewhat on, her. Steve seems reluctant to leave his new friend, until Kay gives him a silent talking to. Then its time for breakfast.

"Sorry, Nes…" Though despite his words there might be just a /hint/ of amusement in the baker's voice, only present now that he isn't on the floor trying to clean up anything else. Oil spill taken care of, he straightens up and glances down at Varequoth, "You didn't do that on purpose just to try and charm her, did you?" A deep rumble of amusement fills the barracks as Varequoth's scarlet wings unfurl, but there's no reply as he moves on towards his cot. There's an awkwardness to his gait that he certainly hasn't grown into quite yet. « It's a phrase, Ceruadharth. Ask /yours/ about them. » His voice is once again that sweet chocolatey drawl, but his tone perhaps just a /touch/ condescending.

The critical moment past, Euclath has that cutting-table vantage point - taking up most of the table as he does. He considers for a moment, wings tucked tight to his side, barely moving his tail. There's a momentary sense of air rushing - enough for Meion to jump up out of her seat and put herself in front of him, intercepting his impending attempt at a leap. The jump forward turns into a headbutt to her chest instead - and then he pours himself down off the table, forepaws and hind in quick succession, as if he'd always intended a smooth leap down instead of a leap into the air. "If you're all jumping off of things, I'll ask the other riders to help set up practice. But not in the middle of the night." Please. Please.

"It's fine." That's Nessalyn's new phrase, true or not. Just keep powering through each day and don't think about it too much. A muscle in her jaw jumps, but that's the only indication that she's more frustrated by the entire situation than she's willing to let on. "I don't think he'll have much luck charming her." Indeed, Tineangrath seems entirely oblivious to the fact that anyone attempted anything, chiming in with her own, « I'm sure he didn't do anything on purpose. I could have injured myself, and Varequoth wouldn't put any of us in harm's way. » SHE BELIEVES IN YOU. As for the matter of her size, the lantern-lights of her mind flicker, dancing with humor as she agrees, « I think I'm very big for someone so small. »

"The way I'm imagining it, it will be a lot more room to jump, roam, maybe even play a bit.." C'iel says. And, give the dragonlings a way to really get a good bounce without the risk of… impact. Ceru, satisfied that All Is Well, tilts his head at Varequoth. The ~idea~ is fair and well, but he has noticed the 'tone' at which some of his siblings often take with him. «I shall. Perhaps ask yours about relative size…» Airy, warm, but with just a touch of friendly retort. C'iel feels that < ? > and gets a darkened tint in his cheeks before gathering up what he's prepared into a bowl. "I'll… explain it over breakfast…" Eyes flick to V'ayn, and he sighs. Of COURSE it would be his lifemate, wouldn't it. «You are!» Ceru assures Tinean, with a nod. «And I can't fathom why any of us would.»

"I don't think it matters whether charming will work…or if it's a dragon or human. He just seems to enjoy it." V'ayn replies, chuckling quietly under his breath. As the two make their way to their area, Varequoth settles in leisurely. The baker's hands are almost instantly reaching for some oil to lather on the bronze's muscled hide, and as he does so the rest of the comments around the pair seem to go unheard. Instead, a smile graces his lips and he looks completely lost in the moment. It's kind of weird given that this is /him/. But for now the two are lost in their own little world!

Airin can't even. She's been up who knows how often already, and as she's feeding Kay she's nodding off. Thankfully he finishes the bowl quickly. She shifts back onto the couch with its pillows and blankets and her brown dragon-cat follows and once again uses her for his bed. She's so tired, for the first time she's asleep before he is.

Meion slowly returns to her seat to finish chopping up a meal for Euclath, as he wraps a circle around her chair, resting there on the floor. «Why can't we just grow faster?» It's an exasperated wish, but also a serious question. This whole linear time thing is still getting Euclath down. But Tinean said something interesting. «You're very big!» he agrees. Just a little less than twice his size. «I want to be as big as Leirith! Or at least Garouth.» And that's a desire that's going to be disappointed as soon as he meets his first blue or green adult - with only golds, bronzes and browns to compare himself to, he's got a skewed sense of his destiny.

« Maybe you will be as big as Garouth. » Tineangrath is willing to believe that it's possible. If Euclath believes it too, why not? (Someone can explain genetics to her later.) Nessalyn glances up for a moment as both V'ayn and Airin depart - she's still not used to those names - before returning to her task of burnishing Tinean's hide to cut down on that excess oil. « We're going outside after this, » the gold reveals, although her chosen certainly doesn't look prepared for the outdoors in any way. « We're going to explore. »

There is a hushed chatter between C'iel and Ceru because despite how open he is with everyone he does NOT want anyone to witness his fumbling attempts to explain smooth-talking except perhaps the "… if someone does it /right/ it can feel nice…" Which agreed upon, does turn all those flicker-wisps and drifting dandelion bits from Ceru's escaping thoughts to a rosy shade of pink. «I hope you can be big,» Ceru says earnestly. «I just want to fly.» Growing up can wait, but THAT cannot. C'iel inclines his head a bit. "… if we're up this late, we should go look at the stars." It was meant for Ceru, but.. open invite? Natch.

Euclath is up and nudging his muzzle to C'iel's side almost before the sentence is done. «We should!» A tug at Meion, the feel of little fragments of yarn pulling her toward him. «We're going to, right?» Meion can't even manage a token sigh - she hasn't gone stargazing in a while herself, and it's bringing fragments of memories from her apprenticeship to mind - good experiences that she'll have to explain to Euclath now that she's brought them to the surface. But later. In private. When he's older, if she can help it.

Tineangrath's lanterns flare to life with renewed energy, dancing across her night sky like thousands of twinkling stars, each flame flickering with enthusiasm. « Stars! Oh, we should go see the stars! » Enchanted by the mere notion, she looks up to her chosen in askance, ever-hopeful. Nessalyn closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and forces a brittle approximation of a smile to rest upon her lips. "Let's go, then." She looks up at the other two who are still awake, adding, "Are you both going?"

C'iel smiles almost rather apologetically, in a way that one will come to interpret as 'I will make it up to you with cocoa.' «Even if we can't fly to them…» Ever. Probably. There were SHIPS but C'iel doesn't broach that now, and besides. The views will be magnificent anyway. "I mean… I brought it up, so I'd better be going." Cee laughs and bounces on his heels, helping Ceru finish his meal and then — well, they're totally not limping that way no.

Meion nods to Nessalyn as she heads for the door. "It'll be good to get outdoors a little." Euclath doesn't need to answer - he's already closest to the door, with a little half-circling gait that keeps him moving as he waits for his larger clutchmates to catch up. "Do you know the constellations, here?" She asks Nessalyn, despite the somewhat frosty pre-hatching relationship between them. They're in this thing together now, one way or another, so she's going to try not to keep so distant.

Nessalyn vanishes for a moment to get her coat, because WINTER SUCKS and if she's going to be forced out into the night air, she's going to be as warm as she possibly can be while doing it. Tineangrath doesn't move until her chosen returns, curiously staring at the clothing item which she has no doubt seen before, but still seems to find confusing. « Why don't we wear those? » That's largely meant for Nessalyn, but she throws the net of her thoughts wider just in case someone else has a better answer. "You're growing too much." So now she'll just have to answer that question again when Tineangrath is full-grown. She walks along side the gold, carefully watching the positioning of wings and feet so there are no more incidents. "No," she answers Meion after a moment, only half-focused on the conversation. "I don't know them anywhere."

C'iel is probably dumb enough to go out without a winter coat but thankfully Nessa's sanity is a little infectious and he does in fact retrieve one. "I can only imagine the amount of fabric it would take… every weaver busy for a week…" And does he want to see a cape on Ceruadharth? Maybe…. The Blue looks to C'iel at the question of Constellations, and after some searching there is an actual, if subtle twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe Meion can teach us some…" He voluntells. He's genuinely curious on her take, anyway!

Meion goes out into the winter night coatless. That sounds like effort, and remembering where one is, and she's good at just keeping herself warm anyway, right? She walks out ahead into the quiet night, the snow from the hatching already trampled all around and piled up in little drifts where it's been cleared away. Euclath strides confidently just a few feet ahead of her, looking up at the big open sky and the mounds of snow, radiating his approval as Meion answers. "I don't really know the ones around here either." A little pause. "My mom taught me a bunch, but they're all up north. It's weird that the sky can be so different." She's lying, just a little - she learned a few of the southern constellations from another apprentice at the computercraft hall - but that's not for remembering right now, any more than she can't avoid. That wasn't really so much about the stargazing anyway, and it didn't end that well.

There's visible excitement on Tineangrath's part when it seems that the stars might have meanings, and that Meion might be able to teach them those lessons. She's all but prancing as they make their way out into the snow, promptly leaping into a drift and rolling around happily. But that joy fades just a little when there's nothing to learn. Not that it's Meion's fault, of course! « That's okay. » And she's trying so very hard not to sound disappointed about it. "We can-" Nessalyn hesitates, because she thinks it's stupid and childish, but she wants so badly to make Tineangrath happy. "We can just make them up?"

C'iel leans back on Ceru's good shoulder and just gets LOST in the view for a while, listening and nodding and thinking. "… that one's the Dog Star." Like the Puppy! Oh, he knows a few of these, not scholarly, but — a spark of inspiration and he smiles over. "Both of our kind can learn a lot from the stars. Direction. Where we are in the universe. Some people believed you could tell the future with them. Grant wishes." But more to the point, with a little gesture. "And there are… stories that go with them. I think the stars like it when they get new stories…" Or maybe the people do. But here we are. Could C'iel get any more sappy?

Euclath pauses in his inspection of snow to look up and try to pick out which star C'iel is pointing to. «How do we know their names?» And that's got Meion grinning, and leaning against the young blue's side while she looks up. A nod to Nessalyn's idea. "All the stories started somewhere, right? We can start some, too." And staring up. "We named them. Or our ancestors did. Some of them even got named back before anyone lived on Pern. Back before anyone that we can remember." She smiles up. "But none of the constellations got named that way. Every one of them was named by people who lived here before us." And somehow that's important to the computercrafter. After all her searching through ancient records, reading files created by systems that might still exist half the universe away, the idea that there were things that we had to be here to create pleases her in some way.

Nessalyn looks faintly disgusted, because, "That was beyond sappy." It's unclear whether the sentiment applies to just C'iel, or to both of them. But Tineangrath seems utterly charmed by the entire idea, rolling out of her now-flattened snow drift to get to her feet again. She shakes herself off, those overlarge wings rustling as she rids herself of excess snow. « We could try asking them. They're right there for us to ask. » There's a silent correction from her chosen which has the gold tilting her head and reconsidering. « I think we must give them names like puppies and humans get their names. We have to choose for them. Do you think there are stars up there for us? » Nessalyn moves a bit closer to the young dragon, leaning carefully against her side. "Pick one. Nothing's stopping us from making it our star."

C'iel breaks eye contact with the heavens enough to respond to Nessa's accusation with a PROUD SMILE. Yes, he knows. And doesn't remind her of the own sweetness creeping in. "I am always fond of the ones that are… close together." Point point. "But I'll let you two pick first…" Ceru turns his head to C'iel and promises, «Someday we'll go all the way to the stars.» At least those two. Wings tremble a little bit because in glimpses through C'iel he knows just how FAR away they are. But is there anywhere they can't go? Who knows. They're not sure whether to get lost in the heavens, or their felllow Weyrlings, but a sort of deep wonder soaks in and takes the words from them for the rest of the.. nightmorning..

Meion doesn't dispute Nessalyn, either. She just stares up at the sky, leaning against Euclath's side and borrowing heat from him. "Beautiful and faraway," she says - though what it's apropos of, she doesn't clarify. She stares at stars until constellations start to form in cats-cradle yarn patterns, running star-to-star and branch-to-branch as Euclath's mind-space eases over hers, the cold and the hour making it hard to stay awake.

Nessalyn leaves the choosing of stars to Tineangrath, allowing the young gold to scan the skies until she settles upon a patch of stars which must have enough to encompass their weyrling group. "That one," Nessalyn states, pointing at the area. Tineangrath projects a constellation of lanterns which hang above the still waters of her mind, reflecting upon the surface below. « That should be ours. » All of them. The gold excludes no one, even if her rider might not be so giving. "What do you say?" There's the option for disagreement, but the cluster has already cemented itself in Tinean's mind as theirs. Whichever stars end up belonging to them, Nessalyn is content to stay there until young dragons begin to freeze and sleep calls to them all again.

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