B'rd Watching

Xanadu Weyr - Forest's Edge

While the forest is thick for a long while, in time it begins to thin, as the ground becomes rockier to the south western stretches of the Weyr's land. The trees are further apart, and the rocks become larger, before rocky outcroppings seem to be more prevalent than the trees around them. As the hills begin to gain in height, the shruberry upon them become more stunted.

The small cave that was opening up by an Earthquake has been widened, the initially small opening turned into one large enough for whers and humans alike, and the carefully placed support beams can be seen in the opening. Outside, it seems that more construction is due to begin, given the building materials currently being stockpiled.

A series of 'dens' sit into the rocky outcroppings, showing signs of the whers who make their home within them.

Suspension lasted a good sevenday with a return to the wing that was rather meek and subtle. For most of the day, B'rdian had given sweep duties and drill duties to everyone else on the wing and as for the brownrider? The brownrider was stuck clearing pathways and fallen timber from wind that gusted hard enough to knock a few of the older trees down. It was the grunt work of the wing and while it would normally go to the wood crafters, B'rdian volunteered assistance from the wing since one or two of the trees had fallen in habitable locations. Zhaoth was in the midst of the few working on the job, helping act like a 'crane' for one of the larger pieces leaning up against one of the buildings in this area, while Ers'lan is securing the straps and ropes. Now, the Wingleader has been keeping an eye on the brownrider since he returned from suspension and he's just arriving to do his 'daily' check up.

Having gone searching for Keziah, it is a determined Thea who has convinced (or is it finally dragged the poor woman?) out here. Before coming, however, she's shared her plan, part of which is to dress in the dull brownish-grey camouflage of the Xanadu Hunter's garb when out in the field. Face daubed with their paint, too and dark hair wrapped under a tight cover, she wouldn't be recognizable as the Weyrwoman if your life depended on it. It's been about an hour of careful circuitous hiking to come up on the Forest's edge area without being seen or heard and now they are just crawling carefully through the tangled underbrush coming up a slight rise where they can see. Seryth and Alosynth are up above crouched - out of sight (though their hides are dulled with grey mud) amongst the rocky crags above and peeping down on the scene below. Witnesses. No one, it seems knows what she's doing right now, not even the Weyrleader, although he certainly must suspect that 'catch B'rdian in the act' is something Thea intended on being in the thick of. And no, she hasn't asked D'had whether he thinks this is a good idea or not.

Keziah certainly doesn't think this is a good idea. After all, who knows what B'rdian might do if they're caught. Go off the deep end? Go all smarmy and charismatic and convince the Weyrwoman that absolutely nothing is going on? Either way Kezi isn't exactly too happy to be out here. But, it's perhaps better to have someone with the Weyrwoman than to let the lady go off on her own? There's renegades and felines and all sorts of evil creatures that would just love to sink their claws into their Senior. No, duty dictates that she try to prevent a mishap since it's better than having to rescue her. At least crawling through the underbrush isn't that much of a hardship. Having been through this area so often and it's not even swamp so that's a double bonus. She peers down as well, swallowing a little as B'rdian enters in on the scene, her frown appearing.

Ers'lan swings his head up several times during the ladies 'crawling' for a peek as if he heard them, as if he heard some noise that alerted him to their presence. But each time, his head would lower back down as he returned to his business at hand. Sinching up the last line, he is careful to climb up on the load and hold onto the straps that are connected to Zhaoth's head, essentially staying on for the swing of the trunk when the brown lowers his head. Helping to guide his lifemate where to put the tree, he doesn't initially catch on to the studious gaze from the ever astute wingleader. Just as Ers'lan is hopping down from the load to unhitch it from Zhaoth, B'rdian's voice, made lower in his moment of superiority, barks at Lan: "This should've been done hours ago! What have you been doing out here? Having a picnic?" The -one- woodcrafter sent out to help the brownrider looks up startled and hunkers back to his task seeing that it isn't -his- superior, sawing the logs into more managable size for later use. Ers'lan pivots so quick he nearly loses his balance as he goes to salute and report as 'stiffly' as he can. B'rdian rolls his eyes, putting his hands behind his back, inspecting the job. Zhaoth makes an odd sound, not a growl nor a croon of greeting. Hard to explain but Ers'lan's back straightens a little further. The Wingleader takes his leisurely time and strolls right up toward Ers'lan, getting in the younger's personal space. "You call that a salute? What are you, a weyrling or a rider?" Then he's getting right close to the brownrider's labors, yanking and pulling at the straps and ropes - looking for something!

Given there's a Search and Rescue Rider with her, it's D'had who's likely to go all smarmy that Keziah's accompanied the Weyrwoman (after he beats Thea for coming up with this hare-brained scheme in the first place) because in his mind she’ll be sure to prevent some calamity from happening. As for being discovered, Thea's dragging a small, dead wherry by the neck as she crawls. Perhaps the wingleader will believe they're hunters? Placing one gloved hand down slowly in the mud so as not to break any twigs, pulling on that wherry, Thea inches forward and peeks over the rise. She freezes when Ers'lan looks their way, only resumes breathing when he's back to task. Pale eyes take in the scene, and while unpleasantly drill-sargent-like, B'rdian's words ringing out in the still, cold air merely cause her to glance at Keziah with dark brows ticked up. There's concern, however, in her gaze to the greenrider, that things could get worse.

Swatting absently at bugs that have been attracted by the dead wherry Keziah purses her lips as she listens to B'rdian. Before where there would have been just an eyeroll, after all, she's said similar things. She glances over at Thea and bites her lip a little. As much as she doesn't want to see Ers'lan abused anymore than she might. There is concern that this little 'hunting' expedition may turn out to be no more than a snipe hunt. After all, B'rdian can't be kicking the brownrider down too often or else she would have seen it by now. Wouldn't she have. Keziah returns Thea's glance, though there's a wariness in her eyes at what might happen if nothing does happen. She looks back down towards the far below as she stays low. She shakes her head a little, really this was a bad idea.

The brownrider watches with a cold silence, ensuring that as B'rdian -pushes- him aside to inspect the entire load over, that he doesn't say a thing or make the wrong gesture. B'rdian even has the gull to tug hard on the straps connected to Zhaoth, causing the dragon to whuff some air at him for the pinch it causes. This has Ers'lan respond, "Please dun narh do that, Zhaoth dun narh like it." B'rdian looks up at the dragon then pivots a glance over his shoulder back at Ers'lan, brow shooting up incredulously, a cool 'I got you' tone of voice purrs, "Is that so…" he leaves the load alone and walks back to the rider, starting to circle Ers'lan some, "If he can't tolerate a little pressure, maybe he's not cut out for this wing either. Sounds like you two are quite the pair…" He sneers at Ers'lan as the younger stays immobile, resolute not to break 'formation' as the other circles around him, looking him up and down, abruptly stopping with a point to the brownrider's chest, "If you can't tolerate his discomfort, what are you going to do when there's a situation that calls for him to get hurt to save another?" Ers'lan can be seen struggling with not lashing out, his jaw works ferociously to keep from talking back. B'rdian leaves the brownrider's side then and marches over toward the woodcrafter. "Tell your craft Master that we'll finish this task. You will still have the compensation allotted to you, as promised by the Weyr, but I do need my riders to be physically fit and this is a perfect opportunity for it." The woodcrafter balks, looks over at Ers'lan who is standing back toward them, stiff necked and back - proverbial steam coming out of his ears. With a bit more convincing, the woodcrafter packs his materials and heads on back down the path, looking over his shoulder nervously a few times as if -he- would be entrapped in failing to meet his duty. It could be that B'rdian just makes everyone nervous. Right?

Thea catches that bug-swatting Keziah's doing out of the corner of her eyes and gives the greenrider's hand a significant stare, widening her eyes just a bit to make sure she gets the meaning: quick movements are likely to draw attention. Then a bug lands on her lower lip and begins crawling nonchalantly about. Lovely! The Weyrwoman ignores it, but her eyes tick juuuuust a little as she returns her attention to the clearing. Her eyes narrow at the whuff from Zhaoth and in spite of herself begins to growl in her throat, a sound that doesn’t make it past her lips and thus likely to be unheard save by Kezi there beside her. Her eyes roll when B'rdian dismisses the woodcrafter.

The hand goes still as Kezi ducks her head a little. Oops. She looks quite chagrined. But then Kezi really isn't feeling herself either. And then her attention goes back to below at the very low growl. She reaches out a hand to Thea. Easy. She gives her a little shake at B'rdian's words. Faulty reasoning. First rule is keep yourself safe. Course then there's the rule about not doing something stupid and injuring your dragon when it's not needed is definately stupid. She's taken the weyrlings to task for idiocies like that. She glances over at Thea. Now it's not just Ers'lan that's getting the beating, but the dragon as well. Where is the mans head? Maybe he has a brain tumour?

B'rdian waits for the woodcraft to be out of ear shot before saying, "You made me lose a very valuable member of our wing…" Ers'lan jerks and looks toward the accusation coming from B'rdian's mouth as the Wingleader non-chalantly strides back over, "Laera was worth more to Galaxy than your piece of shit hide…" Zhaoth makes an odd noise again, a reason behind it unknown to anyone but the brownrider. Ers'lan frowns at the slight made by the Wingleader, but takes it without retaliation. "I tried to convince her -you- would be better off quiting the Wing and joining another, than her leaving behind all the Turns of dedication and experience. I -would- have understood if it had been because you got her knocked up, but we all know that won't happen." Ers'lan flinches, curling his fingers into fists as he turns on B'rdian. The wingleader lifts his brows in surprise, carrying on, "I don't know -why- you insist on continuing with Galaxy. Sure your fitness warrents a fair measure, but it isn't all about brawn out here."
B'rdian does peer over his shoulder as if he heard something or saw something, Zhaoth does too, cranning his head. Ers'lan finally balks, "I reckon I be jus as capable as everyone else." B'rdian looks about ready to eat the brownrider at those words, stepping forward and grabbing Ers'lan by the collar, muttering words that even those in the bushes wouldn't be able to hear, before shoving the brownrider back against the 'load' still more or less connected to Zhaoth. The brown hisses and B'rdian points a finger at Ers'lan, "Control your dragon. Lack of control is worth another sevenday or so of suspension."
Ers'lan is still off balance and leaning against the tree trunk where he was pushed at this moment, putting a hand up to stall his dragon from any further hissing. B'rdian doesn't seem pleased even so, "-I- decide who is capable and when they are capable. Remember who writes the reports to the Weyrleader. All it'll take me is a quick letter of recommendation to remove you from the wing and that's it, you're done… off to the transport wing." Then B'rdian looks around, "What are you doing standing there wasting time? Get moving with this rubbish. It should be finished before dinner. If it's not, I'll expect you to report for southern range sweeps (longest sweep route) at dusk." Ers'lan's face drops, as if coming to realize how the rest of his day would be spent - since it was only an hour until dinner was served.

“Likely in his pants", would be Thea's answer to Keziah about B'rdian's brains, not that she'd actually say it aloud, even if it were safe to do so. Feeling the touch to her shoulder, she chokes off that barely-audible growl, flicks Keziah a silent 'thanks' sort of look and then returns her gaze to the pair below. The mention of Laera's transfer to Asteroid Wing has her making a little 'what?' expression, her smooth brow furrowing in perplexity as the words continue. That the man could have denied the transfer has her eliciting a soft snort at his hypocrisy. In spite of herself, Thea leans towards Keziah's ear and breathes, "He has the authority to remove anyone he wishes at any time for any reason. Something is off here." But then she's back to watching… and listening with a wince at the grueling work ahead of the brownpair after hauling logs. Lips press into a flat line.

Zhaoth senses that Seryth breathes soft, snow-fresh pine-scented words laced with the ice-hard of command, « Mine says you are to 'hurt' yourself while finishing this task. She will not allow you to go on those sweeps tonight. » The word hurt is emphasized in such a way that it's clear he's to fake it. « Pretend to strain your wing or if you can’t find a log to 'bruise' it on, use the man's head, it seems hard enough. » The gold remains immobile and out of sight, but it is clear from the picture of that clearing she shares with the brown that she is nearby and from a much higher perspective.

Keziah just glances at Thea blandly. Ya think? She warned her after all. She leans back to whisper softly "More satisfaction to break him?" She looks back down and takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She frowns though, she had not heard that Laera was actually leaving. She clinches ehr own fists as B'rdian grabs Lan and then she slips backwards a bit. She can't watch anymore. She looks back up at Thea. Wondering if the Weyrwoman has seen enough or not. She sighs a little at the feeling of ennui that fills her. Maybe she should just call out her Wingleader. Settle it with knives or something?

Zhaoth abruptly drops the load, in a sudden motion that even catches Ers'lan off guard since he spills backwards over the tree trunk and ends up sprawled out on top of it. Zhaoth makes this bleeting sound and lifts up his talon, maw opening as he makes these clicking sounds that could be considered to sound like a dolphin. Ers'lan snaps a look over his his dragon favoring a foot and quickly unsorts himself from the logs to see to the pain in the brown's paw. B'rdian, watches. A cold glare. Ers'lan scowls as he inspects the foot, "Reckon we best get this checked out…! It could be he has a splinter or twisted a talon!" B'rdian cants his head down, brows superciliously rising, "I think not. These logs will be dealt with first, -harper- …" he hisses as Ers'lan as if he knew the brown pair were faking it, "Then you'll fly sweeps. Disobey and you know the consequences…." Of course B'rdian could toss out anyone from his wing at any moment, but it came at a cost to his reputation. He hasn't had to fire anyone - they all resigned.
"Maybe in the meantime I'll see if I can convince Laera back to Galaxy." There was a purr in his voice that would taunt any man whose spouse was becoming a target of the situation, especially in the way that implied that B'rdian would be trying to woe her. "Kasuth and Kereth need some time together, it's been a while since Kereth properly caught a green, don't you think?" The goading continues and Ers'lan is falling for it, sending a vicious look over his shoulder. B'rdian smiles victoriously, knowing he's finally pin pricked the former sailor's thick skin. "If I knock her up, we can just say it's yours. Wouldn't you like that? Put an end to all those rumors…" Ers'lan pats Zhaoth's paw, coaxing his brown to lie down and get the weight off of it. He thusly turns to meet the threats, "I will finish this and the sweeps. But iffin ya lay one hand on her I be coming ta break it off." B'rdian smirks at that, hearing what he wanted to hear before turning his back in means of heading down the path, sufficiently pleased that he heckled the brownrider by the look of his expression.

It's not without sympathy that Thea watches Keziah slide backwards enough so she doesn't have to see. With a tilt of her head, she indicates the clearing, a silent reminder that she's been brought here as witness. She leans back and breathes something in the woman's ear, then takes a fresh grip on that wherry's neck with one hand, unsheathes the hunter's knife that she'd borrowed, drawing up herself to a crouch.
"Get ready to be one of your swamp-people in a moment, Keziah. You know the accent well enough? Follow my lead, and don't look the Wingleader directly in the eyes."
Giving the staring woman a grim smirk and nodding to the greenrider's own knife as she nudges a flattish stone over with her boot toe, she murmurs, "Be sharpening your blade on that as we walk out." And with that she rises, carelessly pushing through the underbrush, the brittle branches crackling as she says in her best mountain accent from back home "-an' this for cook to add to the dinner will be right tasty-" Striding on right through the middle of the clearing and passing on by dragon and Rider, bobbling a bow. One eyelash flickers in a barely-there flutter and she moves on, calling to B'rdian, "Oy, Sir. Can ya help me with this bird? Tis heavy-" Well if she can side-track him away from the infirmary, so much the better.

Wait? What? Kezi's eyes go wide and she's staring at Thea as if she's lost her mind. She shakes her head. She's crazy. That's what. The Weyrwoman is crazy. It's not just B'rdian. It's Thea too. She swallows though and takes a deep breath. Yeah, don't look, her eyes for sure would give her away. She starts to mutter under her breath a little and then stops short of actually saying anything.

There's a long and deep sigh as Thea seems to be determined to go down there. "Thought we were just watching." Keziah murmurs back, but she gets up a bit too and snags up the stone. This is crazy. They shouldn't be doing this. Get the guards, get the Weyrleader. Heck Send V'dim after him. Shudder. As Thea heads out she quickly follows as she sharpens her blade on the stone "Gor, them bones done chipped me blade." she adds in with her own back of the swamp accent. Walking by Ers'lan, not so bad, but ignoring the hurt brown? That grates on her sensibilities. She glances at her knife a moment, the light glinting off of it. "Be shavin' it down to netters." As Thea hails B'rdian "Toldcha I did we shoulda been takin the packer.

Ers'lan regards the 'hunters' with a surprising lift of his brow, even getting on guard as he notes the 'blade' being sharpened. Going on high alert, since the area is never safe from renegades no matter the time or day or Turn, he watches the pair with a slight move of his hand to his belt. B'rdian just acts as if he doesn't see them or hear them, back to them as soon as possible. He continues striding away regardless of the plea to 'help' with the bird. Ers'lan mutters something to himself as he flags toward the hunters with a wary squint, "Whar be the problem thar with it?" B'rdian glance back over his shoulder once, less interested in the hunters than the brownrider and more careless at the same time. He continues to walk with his back to them into a clearing where Kasuth awaits. Soon as Kasuth takes off and her shadow disappears from above, Zhaoth sits up with a churr in his throat, a momentary instant that has Ers'lan muttering, "Whar do ya mean ya were -told- ta be hurt?" A fishy glance given to the hunters once again, conflicted between his lifemate and their 'suspicious' appearance.

That bird is heavy too, now that she's actually trying to walk at a normal pace. And for some odd reason Zhaoth's injury doesn't seem to bother Thea, for she doesn't spare the dragon a second glance. He's hurt? She saw nothing while thrashing through the underbrush, isn't he just lying there to take a break? At least her unconcerned expression says something to the like. Thea's veiling her eyes with her dark lashes as B'rdian looks back, the icy green in them recognizable enough even with all that facepaint and the fact that he's not expecting to see the Weyrwoman way out here, for right now they're glittering with anger. As B'rdian continues on his way, she breathes a sigh of relief, stops following the Wingleader and turns to twinkle a look at Ers'lan. In answer to his question, "Not a thing, actually," she says in her normal voice. "It should make a nice dinner. Which you," she pauses to point at Zhaoth with that knife she's still holding, "may eat in the dragonhealer's annex as soon as they make you comfortable. Come on you two."

There's a stare at Thea as she catches Ers'lans words. Meddling Gold riders. Keziah is relieved that B'rdian kept on walking. She's silent though. There's a glance at Ers'lan momentarily, but then her attention is back onto Thea. Seems the greenrider isn't as well at ease as Thea is. She still keeps watch out. She's a suspicious one too. Near as bad as the folk at Mire Hold, maybe worse? As the Weyrwoman calls them on, she falls in line and follows.

Ers'lan observes the lack of a reaction from his wingleader - the man could be leaving him out there to ward off bandits for all that Ers'lan knew. Zhaoth didn't seem to be sensing any threat, so the former-sailor was keeping his cool, if his wits about him. As Thea reveals herself, long after B'rdian has left, Ers'lan tilts his head at them, a confused look on his face. "Thea?" he asks cautiously as if not wanting to make the wrong assumption, swiveling his gaze to Keziah next, trying to figure out who is under all that paint. Thea's voice draws his attention back toward her, "Dinner?" There was a grumble in his stomach that he had been avoiding concentrating on, likely a reason he isn't seen too often in the caverns feasting, because he likely doesn't take enough time for himself. "Ma'am… Weyrwoman… reckon I be finishin me work before I be going… Zhaoth… Zhao… he… he isn't…" he scrubs the back of his neck as his brows pucker, sighing, "Whar ya doin out here?" As if he had the authority to ask, but he does anyway. A flicker of blue eyes toward Keziah again, "Kez…iah?" head bows slightly as if trying to peer through all that paint to see her eyes as well. "Whar is goin on? Why ya be huntin when thar be food in the caverns fer ya?"

Now you see why the Weyrsecond growls at Thea and tries to keep her from doing things like this. She tends to get caught up in it and forget peripheral things like…Renegades. She's totally focused on something else right now. "The same," she answers lightly enough to the brownrider's query of who she is. Though her expression is somber enough underlying her cheerful tone, "We were looking for tunnelsnakes, actually. But no, you won't be finishing this. You and Zhaoth are relieved of duty tonight." She says it pleasantly, but firmly. "And I'll want the dragonhealers looking at that harness pinch and you-" This time though there's a conspiratorial glint to her eyes, her tone is far from joking, "-will go over every inch of his hide for harness gall while the healers give that overworked dragon a thorough massage. Fly the Southern Range sweeps indeed!" That last bit is snorted.

Keziah twitches a little as Ers'lan finally recognizes her. Well, she wanted something done about things. Though this isn't quite what she had in mind. Poor D'had. HEr eyes are still darting around a little, just waiting. She draws in a breath and then lets it out in a huff and then there's a snort. Tunnelsnakes indeed. As she listens to Thea her eyes glance back over to Zhaoth and then she mutters under her breath "I'll castrate him if he's harmed a dragon. I'll slit is yellow livered belly. I.." She suddenly cuts off mid-word and she bites her lower lip.

Ers'lan comes across as being mystified by all this, the anger that was seething through him erased and replaced by this utter perplextion. He considers both the women with a grunt, "Tunnelsnakes… Ya… could've be gettin the -real- hunters ta be doing that…" A quiet advice from the brownrider as B'rdian's orders are overridden. He frowns at that. "Ma'am… the Wingleader needs this finished. He promised the woodcraft-" trying to /defend/ his wingleader or prevent himself from getting in more shit with the man? "-I… I will make sure they go over every muscle…" he finally accepts the fact that his orders have been rerouted. There is a grimace on his face though for it, not at all thankful for the redirection of duty. Zhaoth is absolutely thrilled - again, more confusion from Lan. Even more when Keziah starts going on about castration and slitting bellies… Ers'lan backs up with a wide eyed stare and grunts, "I.. I be getting him ta the healers now…No need fer that…" Of course, he took it as Keziah talking in respects to HIM, not B'rdian.

Thea is still waiting for the brownpair to get moving and prepared to wait until he does, it seems. Her boot toe is taptapping on the path. From above in those rocks, Seryth snakes her way out of the crags but remains up there, a mud-gray specter clinging to those tumbled boulders but there's no mistaking the trumpet she sends to Zhaoth: Go to the dragon infirmary! It may carry a bit of her rider's reckless abandon and humor but also the authority to ground the dragon and the heavy weight of it will press to be felt by his lifemate. For tonight only. "You," The Weyrwoman says with a steel-edged tone, "will not allow anyone to endanger your dragon with overwork again. These logs are not critical. Search and Rescue is! And -that- is your primary responsibility. I will speak to the woodcrafter about a human crew finishing this tomorrow." Her voice hardens, "And B'rdian is no longer your Wingleader." Her hand reaches to give Keziah's shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she finishes, "Keziah, you're the temporary Wingleader of Search and Rescue until the Weyr Council gets a chance to call B'rdian to explain what I've seen today."

Alosynth shows herself as well when Seryth does, her hide darkened and blending well with the stone. Keziah listens to Thea and she's about to argue with Thea when it sounds like the Weyrwoman is indeed removing Ers'lan from the wing and her mouth comes open "Wait, that's not" and then the words die as the rest sink in. "Huh?" She barely squeaks and stands there, the wind blown out of her sails and she closes her mouth with an almost audible snap. It's true, the Weyrwoman /has/ gone mad. Then her eyes widen as she glances down to where B'rdian disappeared. Oh shells. "He's gonna blow a gut." she says as the air just wooshes out of her. THis is definantly not what she had in mind. Then there's another blink and then she's looking at Ers'lan, oh shards, hows the brownrider going to take the news? There's a wince and cringe. Shards, he might think he's in worse hands.

Ers'lan looks panicked when the Weyrwoman's steel-edged tone zones in on him, his eyes wide and mouth quivaring some, trying to find some reason to defend himself or his decisions. Instead, he just seems to take it, unable or unwilling, perhaps smart enough not to say anything. When he hears the decision about B'rdian no longer being Wingleader, the brownrider slumps and lowers his face, shame there in his expression - guilt as well. He does weakly get out, "Reckon B'rdian did nar do nuthin ta us. He jus be giving us work. Zhaoth be narh in danger…" he frowns at the decision, regarding Keziah as she's made Wingleader on the spot. There's some conflicting emotions that run through the younger man then, from suspicion and mistrust, disapproval, and then disgrace for his own actions and humility as he is unable to look at her in the eyes. Without a further word he starts unhitching Zhaoth from the logs, eyes downcast the entire time. "Somehow this is all going to come back on me…" he murmurs to himself, likely not loud enough for the women to pick up but there is a dishearted thump of his hand to Zhaoth's neck once all the straps have been removed. Zhaoth gets moving as soon as he's freed, the weight of the command taken as a loud and clear, following without hesitation the command. The brown looks pleased, no hurt foot as he damn near prances down the path. Ers'lan stalls for a second, about to ask something, then with a shake of his head he's saluting. There is a heavy sigh from him as begins walking behind his dragon - B'rdian really got him ground down, Lan's acting like this is all -his- fault.

"At this point, I really don't care if the man goes apopleptic," Thea says shortly in response to Keziah, then relents to amend, "Save for the fact his dragon should not suffer for his rider's folly." She gives the greenrider a wide smile, "You'll do fine, Kez. You, however." This to Ers'lan, her voice like a whipcrack," Are not fit to be a rider if you'll allow your pride to put your dragon's health at risk because someone pushes you beyond perfection. The man certainly did plenty to the -both- of you! And if you can't recognize it, WingSecond of Galaxy, then I'll be snagging that fancy knot back and have the mindhealers taking some time with you. Men!" And she turns on her heel sputtering and muttering her way back to the Weyr. Seryth, however, launches to glide along behind to see they get to the dragon infirmary. Thea, no doubt after washing her facepaint off, which will be tear-streaked by the time she finds the Weyrleader, will be checking in on them later. And perhaps speaking more quietly and encouragingly to him. Right now? She's got a B'rdian to pluck.

Ers'lan stops as he has Thea brow-beating him, something he has come to expect in his daily life by the expression on his face. When she tells him that he's not fit to be a rider, that does him in. With his back to both of them, his hand is drawn up toward his face, shielding his eyes, which are tightly lidded if anyone could see them. The part about wingsecond escapes him, dropping his hand away from his face where angry moisture sits in them but do not fall. His cheeks are scrunched up as are his eyes, brows lowered as lips pucker, completely at a loss for his own failure. He's so stuck on 'he's not fit to be a rider' … that the fancy knot remark eludes him. He continues to stand there, as if debating his next move. Even Zhaoth stops and curls his neck back to regard his rider, a concerned creel issued.

There's another shocked look on Keziah's face. Lan her WingSecond? Her mouth opens again and then it shuts and then there's a look at Lan and there's an eyeroll "Sharding fool." she mutters and stalks up to him and Zhaoth. She eyes the brown "You, get yer tail to the infirmary." Now she regards Lan. Gelding is going to be too good for B'rdian. "Suck it up sailor, we've got to get yer dragon into port I guess you will. And you need a drink I think." Heck, Kezi might even join in. "B'rdian's a fool, don't you be one too. Don't make me drop ya on your rear." She hmmphs a little "Yer a better man than that. Else Laera wouldn't have naught ta do with ya." She snorts and mutters under her breath. Men indeed. It's a good thing she didn't have a son in place of a daughter most likely.

Zhaoth is already starting to plod off again as Ers'lan turns his face toward Keziah, sucking it up indeed. That's what he does! His face is a brick wall, rock solid and showing little emotion. "I be going…" he insists, with a hand lifted to stop her from nettling at him further. "Drink sounds bout the thin…" He sighs and shakes his head, "B'rdian be doin whar cap'n's do…" Yes, he will not admit to them what B'rdian said, there's a feeling he'll be loyal even if the guy was ruthless. Rubbing his temple, he starts slogging behind his dragon, casting a quick glance over at Keziah then away from again. Awkward.

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