Of Mud and Boops

Xanadu Weyr - Meadow
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of weyrs, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves. The meadow continues with gentle rolls and dips, grass tall and short waving in the slightest of breezes, and eventually those hills grow higher and steeper, ending in a large ridge that provides a fine view of that meadow and the rest of the Weyr, gazing out over the multicolored roofs of the houses and the cliff that holds the caverns.
Runner stables with the paddock beyond are to the south beyond the meadow weyrs, and a smithy and a woodcraft shop are settled closer in towards the path to the clearing. Trees border the northern side of the meadow, and more of those low, rolling hills can be seen to the northwest. A road passes through the meadow, coming from the east and used by traders and crafters alike. Wagons laden with felled trees from the forests or ore from the mountains are hauled by burden beast up the road through the meadow, over the bridge spanning the river to be processed in the appropriate workshops.

Not only is it spring, the days are actually getting warm here at Xanadu! Rukbat is bright overhead, the avians are chirping from their perches on roofs and trees, and… certain parts of the lower meadow are once more turning into a morass. It's one of the ways you can tell that spring has truly sprung! That combination of snowmelt and rain, when the ground has finally thawed enough to absorb it as dragon claws dig in to aquarate and mix. Parts of that bog-aspiring meadow are already brown with mud, while in others the grass is deceptively green over soggy ground capable of eating boots. Garouth is above it all - quite literally, that is; he's up on one of the rockier ridges, those places where the water runs off as opposed to where it runs to. He's basking in the light and heat with his head tucked down in a loose curl of neck around where D'lei sits and his wings slightly spread to make a better solar panel for that warmth. His rider's got a mug in hand and a somewhat distant expression on his face, thinking and looking and thinking about probably-not-what's-in-front-of-him. Which is mostly mud.

Euclath is taking advantage of supervised outing-time to get extensive first-hand experience with the properties of mud. Also first-tail, first-muzzle, and somehow even first-wing. Meion is going to have extra scrubbing to do tonight, to be certain. Still, she's smiling as she finds a spot to sit near that rocky outcrop. She could hardly ignore all the reflected joy Euclath is taking in everything to do with the ordinary-to-her marshy field.

Ceruadharth looks upwarsd with envy and admiration at his sire and his height, almost so much so that he forgets to soak in the sights of the Meadow for the first time. For the first time through his own eyes, at least, a slow meander as he looks at little plants and landmarks with a bit of 'ah, thats' what that is!' and leans in to rub his snout firmly against a trunk. Not that he has cheeky scentglands, but it is the thought that counts. C'iel bounces on his heels a bit and laughs. "Well. This is nothing if not an excuse for a nice long bath, no?"

Such bask. Very warm. …okay, so, there are definitely warmer places, but it's been winter, and Garouth is appreciative of this one… not least because it's his. His lids open slightly as his draggy-sense tells him Ceruadharth is watching, a low rumble-croon and flower-petals on a tumble of wind to make a greeting to the blue before they scatter past to become a part of that landscape. See, there's one of the flowers, right next to that rock! And there's a shredded petal in the mud, too - one that used to be a flower, but now has been trampled and torn and will likely soon be buried beneath another footstep… or just a drip of the mud that sometimes clings like water but also globs up into lumps. D'lei tilts his head to motion a moment before it actually registers, dragging himself back to paying attention to immediate surroundings - and dragons, and people, with a flick of eyes around to each before they settle on the weyrlings. "It's your dragon-washing journeyman's test," he replies to C'iel, and grins. "Don't fail, or we get them to roll around on your bed."

Meion laughs, looking up at D'lei. "I hope you don't mind the company. Risali mentioned you and Garouth were out here, and that it might be a good time to actually go out this far with Euclath and Ceruadharth." Not spoken: Because Garouth and D'lei can be trusted to prevent any actual harm that might otherwise befall inquisitive, inexperienced young dragons. She's getting better at even not-quite thinking things like that, to avoid the pain of a sulky, insulted-feeling lifemate in her mind. Euclath seems a little less insistent on only talking to Meion today - while he doesn't say anything to D'lei or C'iel, he shares the fond forest-warm of greetings with Garouth and Ceru, underlaid with his usual curious tangle of wonderings. Why does the ground get soft like this? Can the stones get like this, too?

Ceru crouches and wiggles at the approach of flower-petals, which despite being a metaphorical greeting he still has the urge to pounce. The fallen petal might be nudged carefully out of the way with a claw before more tromping is had, though. Actual splashes of mud underneath dragon weight. "I can't remember the last time I slept in my own bed…" C'iel observes, without dwelling on it too much. "How far are we allowed to go?" C'iel says it, but it feels more like an Eager Dragon Question than a reserved healer one. The blue shakes out a wave of ticklish dandelion puffs of his own greetings, before watching his brother. The ground has his curiosity, but the trees on the border draw him moreso. If C'iel's memory is right, they may have been here even longer than… well… all of them!

D'lei hehs to Meion, and nods. "You're better company than my thoughts," he replies to her, with the sort of grin that's a quantum superposition of earnest and wry. Garouth keeps his eyes to their more-opened state, dappled green-gold as he watches Euclath investigate that spring mud with his everything… and Ceruadharth investigate the everything of spring. The sense of spring rain, warmed droplets falling from sky to earth, is a combination of greeting and question-reply, the metaphor of emotion blending with memories of the puddles and mud that form after a rainstorm… though that's hardly an explanation for why this great expanse of such mud, at least not on its own. "By the time you do, it'll likely be a new one," D'lei observes to C'iel. "Since you'll want room for him nearby…" And very few caverns-rooms come with space for a dragon! The question about how far they can go makes him smile, looking to Ceruadharth - then Euclath - before he looks back to C'iel again. "If you're in sight of the Weyr, you're probably okay. No breadcrumb trails."

Breadcrumb trails? The idea intrigues Euclath, and there's a moment's distraction for Meion as she has to silently explain stories that any human child would know - but, of course, she hadn't thought to tell them to Euclath. It's another reminder that, despite the sense of "words" in her head, human children born the same day as the dragons are still far from talking - and the dragons have no more experience with the world than them, though they have the benefit of their lifemates' memories. She grins up to D'lei. "Seems like we're getting close to ready for some of the more involved lessons, then?" The idea is starting to have some appeal; if she's going to feel like an apprentice again, she's looking forward to the part where she can start training to be a journeyman.

The idea likewise intrigues Ceruadharth, who is now considering all of the muddy meadow to roam. The urge to remain with family is stronger than the urge to roam for now. "I'm really intrigued to see what the fullfledged Dragonhealers have to do… learning by experiencing is almost as good as learning by doing." He hums cheerfully, apparently not having given up that particular line of interest despite many sudden shifts. «Hopefully not every season is this wet and dirty.» Ceru glances at C'iel. «Or else we're going to be less fliers and more… sliders.»

Teinon comes trudging his way up the path. Speaking of muddy… Yep. That's Teinon. You can't really expect much else from a person who works in fields this time of year. At least the vast majority of the mud is contained to the bottom of his pant legs and his boots, but he still has splatters pretty much all over. He does not seem terribly concerned by that. he spots C'iel hanging out with the dragon and presumably other riders and his steps slow. He starts to continue on toward the weyr, but… Nope. He changes tack and heads that direction. Herder on a mission, here.

D'lei grins, nodding to the two humans in turn as the three of them talk near a sun-soaking Garouth and watch the young blues roam and explore. "You're going to have a head start on some of it," he says to C'iel. "By which I mean that you probably already know everything you're going to get in the lessons on dragon physiology." His gaze shifts to Meion. "It's mostly practical, things like muscle groups and first aid… but I'm sure you can get the theory as well." It's like he's met her, ever! "It's all toward getting them able to hunt… which doesn't actually give you back the time you might hope, at least at first, but it's still a pretty big step." Teinon's unremarked by him, though Garouth does shift his gaze to the herder in passing. « Every season has its own nature. » A swirl of mental air, chilled to warm to cold again in an affectionate ruffle. « You will discover them. »

Where was Risali? Somewhere close enough to tell Weyrlings where to possibly find (and assault) her weyrmate (and his lifemate), but caught up in something immersive enough to not be on their heels once the pouncing commenced. She's here now. The weyrwoman is slow to approach in in complement of Leirith (who is the exact opposite of slow - at least mentally). The queen's mind sweeps indiscriminately through those close: Teinon, Meion, C'iel, D'lei, Garouth, and Ceruhadarth, and Euclath. She's that wubwubwub of excitement, that thrum of bass and drums and giddy joy that are sometimes overwhelming at best and certainly spare no sunbright exuberance now as that too-big body invades, and permeates, and finds the queen settling to watch from a distance instead of up close. Those whirling blue eyes fix, that massive head lowers to rest on the ground, but there are no words to accompany draconic thought. Just a rush of feeling, warm, and inviting, and content. Risali, however, keeps on coming, smiling as grey eyes seek out amber, as a wordless tease is passed from Risa to D'lei through mischief in expression and the application of teeth on her bottom lip before her attention shifts to C'iel and Meion. "I see you found him." D'lei, she means. But for once, Risa doesn't beeline for her weyrmate. No, Risa skirts around D'lei at the LAST, RUDE, POSSIBLE SECOND to crouch by Garouth. One hand goes out to hide, and she's applying liberal scritches to the bronze as Ceru and Euclath are momentarily the primary subjects of her focus. "You did good," she tells Garouth. "Very good." Pat. Patpat. Scritchscritchscritch. Is Leirith trying to boop Teinon? She is. FLEE!

Meion grins as the forest-and-tangle of explaining things to Euclath picks up that underbeat, signaling Leirith's approach well before any physical sign. She nods up to D'lei as he explains what-comes-next, and grins over to C'iel. "Think I can get a head-start on studying some of that with you?" In her copious free time, of course - but when has a little thing like the number of hours in the day stopped her from indulging her curiosity? It's no wonder she and Euclath are a pair; the two of them together run no risk of getting bored as long as they can explore something. Euclath is currently the one doing the exploring, jumping forward and seeing how far he skids on the muddy ground, then trying again with his claws aimed to dig in. Important practice of the principles that underpin landing! At least, that's how Meion would justify it if anyone were actually to question it.

C'iel bows his head a bit at D'lei's remark and smiles. "Perhaps it will be review, but I will be just as interested in how one teaches a… wonderful class of weyrlings." Thoughts of future give way to thoughts of past, and somewhere in the middle he's just living in the moment as he's filled with that excited rhythm. Sure, he was already doing a little bouncing, what harm is any more? Ceruadharth sends out MORE of that forest-born fluff to greet his mother, and… Teinon? Yes, definitely, he knows this one at least from C'iel's eyes, and is absolutely being friendly by sending another bout of those white whispy feelings his way, and not at all trying to give Leirith a slight advantage on her quest for boops. Rider grins conspiratorily, and nods to Meion. "Absolutely. Ceru loves learning about himself too, though we'll try not to get hung up on the wings…"

Teinon sweeps an only slightly nervous glance around the others gathered, but doesn't let himself get distracted from the task at hand. He starts digging through one of his pockets, ignoring the fact that he's currently mud-splattered, and pulls out a smallish paper-wrapped packet. Just as he's doing that, he catches a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, and turns to find Leirith. Boop…? He smiles. Waves. Points toward Ceruadharth and then holds up a single finger. One moment please! He trots away to C'iel, presents him with the packet and a one-handed salute, then trots back to present himself to Leirith. COMMENCE BOOPING, M'LADY.

Shadows attentuate into dapples as mental sunlight glows through them, like the shadows cast by the tattered trailing edge of Garouth's wings in Rukbat's actual shine. D'lei grins as Meion seeks further instruction - though he doesn't try to stop her - then nods to C'iel. "With distinct learning styles, to be sure." That grin's rather crooked now, but still. Better to smile at it than not. "But yes, I'm sure he will. The wings… and the legs for takeoff and landing… and the tail and neck to help steer." Flying is a whole-body endeavour! Teinon gets a glance as he approaches closer, though D'lei is hardly going to stand in the way of boops (or whatever else is going on). He looks to Risali instead, as she comes closer, with a grin for her and one extended arm that is RUDELY SPURNED as she decides to go favor his dragon instead of him. "Hmf," D'lei declares, grin still in place, and turns his attention back to the weyrlings. Garouth stretches out his chin, a rumble that would, if he were a large cat, pass for a purr. It's echoed by the sense of tangled fluffs in root-burrow warmth, dragon thoughts far subtler than Leirith's but no less pleased.

YES YOU ARE VERY CUTE, GAROUTH. Accept Risali's INTENSE SCRITCHES AND LOVE. She's throwing both hands and her back into it, and then giving him another solid pat on his lower jaw before she rises, before she grabs D'lei's arm 'round the bicep and tucks herself right in and under it. There's a tilt of her head, a smile for the Weyrleader as her arm comes to settle low around his hips, and then she's looking from C'iel to Meion. She is a little behind on the conversation, so you will excuse that slightly sick-raspy question of, "What are you studying?" And yes, those grey eyes go to Teinon and her queen, perhaps to ensure that the boops do not come in excess, perhaps to tilt her head and ask a silent question of the herder before her attention returns to the other three she RUDELY INTRUDED UPON THE CONVERSATION OF. Leirith, on the other hand, BOOPS TEINON. « YOU SHOULD BE WITH THE PEOPLE. » SHE BOOPS HIM REAL GOOD. There's a boom of laughter, but little more; her attention turns to the blues - to Garouth, who gets a brush of feathers and ruffled dresses. « WHAT DO YOU SEE? » She asks both Euclath and Ceru. SO MANY QUESTIONS FROM THIS PAIR TODAY.

"Dragonhealing, I think," Meion replies to Risali, with a grin to C'iel. "Or whatever C'iel tells me is dragonhealing - I don't know the first thing about it yet." Which gets a generalized disbelief from Euclath, all tugging threads at Meion's mind until she amends her statement to "Well, maybe the first thing. But if it's not about oiling hide, then I'm out of my depth." More factual, and Euclath is satisfied. He answers Leirith's question with a bright tangle of ideas that might be word-phrased as « Mud and water and grass and the big trees and Oh! Meion knows that person! And everything! » He's not terribly discriminating yet - not when there's so much new to go through all at once!

C'iel first and foremost accepts the gift from Teino with a still-surprised look and clutches it tight in palm. He might not know a lot of sign, but 'thank you!' is one that he can do easily enough. 'really.' «Is that what I think it is? A bag of colors?» Ceru leans over as he peeks in. Beautiful marbles in a leather pocket. «… don't pick one just yet.» Besides, they BOTH have questions to answer in plenty and how! Cee goes first with a little gesture. "There's a LOT to it. I mean, it's more than just putting dragons back together. In fact, the less of that you do, the better." He leans up and gives Ceru's jawline a rub, and gets a rumble. «Mud and water and colors and… a very nice friend,» the Blue echoes, and then turns his head up to listen. If it's getting Springy, are there any Springsounds to have…?

In the midst of all the symphony of dragon thoughts, Teinon just grins crookedly. The first boop makes him stumble a little, and the second pushes him back several steps before he catches himself, laughing in silent, rhythmic sighs. He signs something impishly at Leirith, knowing she won't be able to understand it, and then winks at her. Having received his boops, he glances toward the humans present, maybe even a touch reluctantly. Risali's silent question went unnoticed, probably because he's too nervous of her to look directly /at/ her, but C'iel gets a grin and a little shrug before his attention lands finally on Meion. He watches her for a moment or two, and then shifts his gaze to her dragon, watching the young one thoughtfully as he explores the meadow.

D'lei grins, nodding to the weyrlings - then glancing to Risali as she tucks herself into place, giving a squeeze of his arm as his attention returns to the conversation at hand figuratively rather than literally. "There'll be more stretch programs and exercises to try and keep from spraining things, I'm sure." Dragon not-healing in the form of not-injuring! It's a remarkably effective method, it is. He tilts his head back to Risali with more explains. "We've been talking about what happens next for them." A gesture to indicate those weyrlings, which turns into a focus of his attention first on dragons, then back on riders. « There was dirt and snow here, and now there is water and mud, » Garouth muses as the younger dragons report their findings. « Where did the water come from? Where did the mud? » What's the nature of reality and this thing where it alters over time, anyhow?

Meion raises a hand to Teinon by way of greeting - though it's just a wave, and nothing more complex. Any thoughts she'd had of trying to learn that gestured language she's seen him using foundered on the shoals of taking care of a dragon is a lot of work actually, so she's stuck in the passing-notes mode if there's no interpreter around. Euclath's attention has already bounded on, as he digs at the mud with one forepaw, lifting it curiously. There's a slow-dawning connection made, as Euclath suddenly makes experiential sense of facts he had rummaged through in mental conversation with Meion. « Snow is water! » he announces triumphantly - and so much for trying to practice Garouth-like subtle-voice; in his enthusiasm he's less strands of thought in the forest, and more a giant riot of colors hanging from every branch while he works out his ideas. « And mud is dirt-water! »

C'iel had a choice smattering before he was searched, and Ceruadharth was very insistent on the matter. The more ways to communicate, the better. The blue takes his brother's response, rather than plying C'iel for answers. «There was water here, and there was still water here…» A claw swipes a bit of mud up, and flicks it in C'iel's direction with a low chuckle. This one flies wide. «Snow was funner. But this isn't as cold.» What happens next, though…. there are a lot of nexts. More nexts than seasons, perhaps. C'iel sticks a foot in the soft earth to make a print. "So much to think about, just focusing on that next step… I still get dizzy anyway."

As fascinated as Teinon is by the dragons, he can't help himself. Someone is talking about what's next for the weyrlings, and his ears stretch in that direction. He takes a couple of side steps, still ostensibly watching the dragons learning about the different forms of water, but now located where he can also sort of… rudely eavesdrop on D'lei's conversation with the weyrlings.

Water! Mud! Warmer breezes, from Garouth, the echo of heat that transforms snow into water and lets it produce that mud. « There was fluffy-water, and now there is flowing-snow. » There's amusement in his tone, the pleasing ridiculousness of how two concepts can be variations of the other and recontextualized through their usage. D'lei hehs, with a nod to C'iel. "You'll get there. If it seems too far… just look back, and think how far Ceruadharth has come since he came out of the shell." He smiles. "If you've already done all that, what's a bit more to build on top of it?" Besides 'a whirlwind of oft-overwhelming possibility', but really, that's just All Of Existence, dragon or no!

"You can join us, you know," Risali says, because of course her attention is on Teinon, and of course she noticed him scooting closer and closer and not meeting her gaze. She might also be cheating through Leirith, but that only half counts as cheating. Still, Risali's attention falls back to D'lei, Meion, and C'iel, even if Leirith's attention remains with the younger dragons. « AND WHAT DOES THE SNOW BECOME WHEN IT MELTS? » There's something about the way she asks it, something giddy and joyful and brimming with enthuse that's not quite an actual question for learning — not like Garouth teaches. This is Leirith, after all. "Let me know what you learn," Risali tells Meion around a smile. "I never really had an interest in dragonhealing until I had Leirith, but…" But what? A shrug of those shoulders tucked under D'lei's arm and she dismisses her own thoughts. But D'lei earns a smile, a soft affirmation of, "Ahhh," and then Risa blinks to C'iel. "It's worth it." Which is not really conducive to the conversation but listen. SHE'S BAD AT PEOPLE. SHE'S BAD AT CONVERSATION. FIGHT HER.

Euclath's thoughts are a tumble of ideas. Water coming from the sky as rain and snow and other things that Meion's memory claims exist, like hail and sleet. The big sea so close to the weyr, and the river that runs into it, and all this water in constant, tumbling motion, never still. He's un-still as well, mock-pouncing at mud-slick spots as he learns his leap on the terrain, slipping and missing and trying again as he kicks up mud all around him. Meion manages to tune the amused dragon-mind down to a constant presence, but not quite so strong that she can't keep talking with the other people. "I feel like I'm discovering everything all over again." And as she considers that, there's the realization that at some point she's going to touch a computer again, and this time she'll have Euclath there in her mind as she does. "Was it like this for you?" The question is mostly to Risali, but D'lei is included in the target zone - though she suspects this overwhelming giddy enthusiasm that Euclath has is a trait he shares with his gold-parent.

Ceruadharth to his namesake gets distracted at SKY WATER. He spreads his wings to show off some of the imprinting, without much realizing it. There is this sense that water is great and playful and sometimes a bit too cold when it nips, bites, splashes unwelcomedly. And speaking of, after taking a misplaced mud splash to the snout, his eyes narrow at Euclath and there is a wrigglewrigglewriggle… before he bounds after the other Blue, eager to tumble and return the favor to his sibling with full fervor. C'iel meanwhile is smiling at Meion all reserved and proud. "Very worth it. Very… looking forward to everything. I keep thinking about how lucky I am." And not just for the dragon! Look around, really. "There was a point where I really, realy wanted to be a Harper instead," he confides in return to Risali's admission. People change!

D'lei hehs at Meion, with a smile that's full of memories more than amusement. "In a way," he says, a glance back to Garouth. "He…" How to explain a difference of perspective that makes the same things different? It's a hard question to answer, and one Garouth's perspective has no better words to explain than D'lei does. It simply is, part of the understanding that comes from bronze even as the enthuse does from gold, and… there's no particular time to dig into it, at least not right now, because Garouth has a message for his rider that raises other questions, ones that… make D'lei raise eyebrows to the bronze before looking back to Risali. "That archivist -" she knows the one "- is claiming the computer insulted him." What does that mean? D'lei doesn't know, but he sounds dubious. "I… think I'd better go see what's going on before he puts a fist through it." That's followed by a glance to Meion, as the computercrafter (on weyrling hiatus) in the field. "You want to come? Garouth and Leirith can keep an eye on Euclath." Because seriously, if the young blue's going to be okay away from his rider's side at all, now's a pretty good bet… and he seems like he probably will be, and so the two technical people can go find out just why the non-technical person is…. Having Issues. This …. will probably be terrible and make them sigh. A lot. Off they go!

Teinon turns a little bit red at Risali's invitation, ducking his head. He looks toward her, then back toward the dragons, contemplating. Probably trying to figure out whether this is one of those polite don't-but-say-we-did invitations. But in the end, curiosity wins out and he sidles a little closer, half his attention on the dragons, but the other half on the conversation between younger and older riders. As D'lei suddenly departs with Meion in tow, he watches them go with such a keen look of sympathy as to suggest that while he probably hasn't had /much/ excuse to dabble with computers, he must have at some point and found the experience painful.

"Some things," Risali answers honestly, a fond look for the gold in question. "She was actually a little more reserved - if you can believe it - when she was young. She questioned everything. But she was always very excited. That inability to bring her down, that fearlessness, that undaunted persistence has always been." And always will be. That's what makes Leirith Leirith, after so much newborn curiosity has finally seen fit to subside. She listens for D'lei's answer too, a quiet smile brimming with affection for bronze and rider both before her nose scrunches and a huff of laughter escapes her. "What kind of harper? The studiously bookish kind, or the bang on instruments and sing really loud kind?" Or the dancing kind. Or the - okay, so there are a whole lot of types of harpers, but it's still pretty clear what she means: Law, books, and archives, or music and dance? Teinon's approach has Risa's eyes back on the man, that smile still intact but only long enough for her attention to turn back to her weyrmate when D'lei relays just what it is that's about to pull him - and, by proxy, Meion - away. She does know the archivist, and that's why she's going up on her tippy-toes to press a kiss to D'lei's cheek as she breathes, "Let's hope it's true." Because he deserves it. And to Meion: a scrunch of nose, a deviant smile, and, "I wouldn't be at all opposed to a few more insults being programmed in." You know. Just to make sure HE KNOWS. Those eyes track as they leave, HATING TO WATCH THEM GO, BUT LOVING TO WATCH THEM LEAVE (IF U KNO WUT I MEAN). A beat, two, three, four, and her eyes are back on Teinon and C'iel. Did Risa just HOOK HER ARM THROUGH C'IEL'S AND LEAN AGAINST HIM? Yes, yes she did. FIGHT HER. "Well." Ahem. "Hi." Smile. You guys, she is genuinely bad at people okay. "How are you both?"

Teinon turns a somewhat curious look on C'iel to hear the answer as to what type of harper he would have been. Probably because he spent an awful lot of time around said harpers when he was young. Possibly more than he spent with the dragons, which is saying something! Risali's question earns her another just slightly nervous glance and he smiles and lifts a shoulder in answer. On second thought, he makes a thumbs up sign, and if there's a bit of a shadow behind his smile, so what.
C'iel listens with rapt attention as Risali conjures up images of, gasp, young Leirith. Like some sort of dark secret, he nods and tries to maintain his silence though inside he's vibrating with bright laughing fits. "… the bang on instruments and sing really loud kind. People don't mind when you're bad at dancing, but…" But the rest, let us not revisit. Away and absent his attention for a while until he feels that mom-snag on Cee-fish, and he returns the support warmly. Embarassed, but not in the sort of way he occasionally steals glances at other Weyrlings shy. HI. He will fight. With awkward affection. Ceru might be dragging him towards sociability, but this is still something else he's terribad at. "Really happy. Trying not to rush things. Feels like.. getting to grow up twice, almost." Even if dragons go through it FASTER, it's almost like a second chance to help make all those discoveries and dreams better and more enjoyable. He peers over at Tei and shakes his head with a laugh. "… we keep feeling the urge to stretch our wings though." Those mud-stained mud-flicking brother-playing wings, yes.

If there's a bit of a shadow to his smile, RISA ZEROS IN ON IT AND, despite the fact that her smile remains, there's an inward pull of her brows. That's what. A beat, two three, four, and Risali decides not to ask; it's not in the weyrwoman's nature to pry, after all, and so she drops her attention to C'iel and laughs, bumping her insubstantial body in against his despite the fact that they are JOINED AT THE ARM because this is Risali, and she does everything with just a touch of violence - even affection. "You would have made a good harper. I can see it. I have a piano, you know, if you ever want to have a go at the singing really loud thing." A beat. "Or the banging on instruments." Because why not. That smile loses its edge, turns into something quieter, softer, warmer, as she nods for the experience of new dragons and new life and newer beginnings and - "Yeah. It's kind of like having children. You blink, and suddenly they're three times your size and trying to eat you." Pause. "The dragons, I mean." Comes with a hint of humor, and then her attention blinking back to Teinon as C'iel engages him, as she attempts to BE A GOOD PERSON and make EVEN MORE CONVERSATION. "How are the herds?" Safe topic, right?

Teinon nods a little at C'iel and smiles, rather pleased with /something/. He was seeming to be perfectly content to listen to their descriptions of watching the dragons grow up, and when Risali oh-so-kindly makes her attempt to draw him into the conversation with something relevant to his day-to-day life, he looks down with an embarrassed sort of smile. He taps the tips of his fingers and thumb to his lower lip, glancing up with a glint of humor. Then it occurs to him that they won't get that joke, so he flushes red a little and digs into a different pocket for a scrap of paper. He hands over the translation with an awkward, apologetic shrug. "Tasty." No doubt, that's a reference to the dragons' opinions on the matter.

C'iel absorbs the affections with the occasional 'oof' or light little sound, and wobbles back to return with what he thinks might be touches in EQUAL FORCE but are more like being boffed with marshmallows. "Oh, no, I am very… I think if I tried singing LOUDLY, your Leirith might even be tempted to eat me." He frowns, fidgets, and glances towards where the blues are exploring. "… do they do that, really? Try to eat you?" Okay, he can maybe see Killi's dragon trying something like that. But his Ceru? Projects something like a SWOOP of shadow over Cee that is neither avian nor dragon and rumbles. «Better learn to fly fast, dearheart» Though he is probably just teasing… yes. The hiatus'd healer gives Teinon a curious look, then the note, and laughs. Goodness. He supposes that's a good outcome of the craft, anyhow.

MARSHMALLOW VIOLENCE. Soft, and squeeshy, and… delicious? Potentially, but you can't TASTE THE VIOLENCE IN THE AIR (which is an unfortunate thing, because if it's marshmallow flavored, well…). You can see it though, Risali biting down on her bottom lip and stifling laughter as C'iel meets her force and Risali enjoys it. She is smol, you see, and the Weyrwoman. Most people tend to underestimate her or shy away from returning her affectionate violence because they are scared of some kind of retribution. So these moments, well… they mean a lot to her. "She wouldn't dare. She would just give you a beat." A smile, a scrunch of her nose. "And the more off-key, the better for her." Because have you met Leirith? She finds the humor in JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING - justified or not. And there Risali leans, eyes going from gestures she surely doesn't understand (but kind of gets the idea of), and when that note comes, Risali joins C'iel in his laughter. Hers is a huff though, more a lingering of mirth in her eyes and the corners of her mouth than actual sound. "I suppose that was a bit of a stupid question, wasn't it?" A beat, two, three, four, and… "Were you both headed somewhere?" LISTEN. SHE'S AWK. She's just gonna try and keep the conversation going because she's not very good at conversation herself. Leirith is also watching the pouncing blues, crooning her approval and probably making the inside of Garouth's skull shimmy and shake with her commentary.

By the slight brightening of Teinon's eyes, and the smile that curves his lips, he seems quite pleased when they both laugh at the joke. He takes the paper back, because it can be erased ok, and keeps it out for the very real possibility that he needs to 'say' something else. Risali's question is answered with a one-shouldered shrug, and a vague gesture toward C'iel and the gift. Apparently his mission is now complete and he has no place to be. His gaze does kind of drift toward the cavorting dragons. Which could explain why he's in no hurry to run off anywhere else.

Well C'iel just has that aura which certainly does not make him any less fidgety about the idea of being dragonsnack. Though his mental history, he can't recall any such a thing ever happening. Truly. The dragonhealer is ALSO smol and while he might not have dreamed of such a tussle before, he is quickly inheriting Ceru's playfulness and openness towards family. Which, if you connect enough dots… that's just weyrs. "Oh. Well, if it were for her, maybe… if nothing else, for a different kind of entertainment." Which there seems to be abound! It is good to be able to laugh. This is a thing that all healers observe, what it does for body and spirit. A hairtoss, and a smile towards Teinon. "You should take me to them, sometime, if you don't mind? Though maybe after Ceru and I have had some time to focus ourselves." The last thing we need is C'iel trying to gnaw on a herdbeast. "Not really. Anywhere but the same walls we see so much of…" That is their reply. Though there is a twinge. "Food and a bath sounds nice soon, though!" He knows there are many great things, family and Weyr alike, that tug at their attention, but even stealing moments like these make it all worth it. He may even be willing to relinquish his hold for now, not that it was particularly hard to wrestle out of.

THEY'RE CUTE. THE DRAGONS. SUPER CUTE. And Risali can't blame Teinon for his attention straying back to the blues because hers keeps going there as well, watching those tiny beings that will become magnificent beasts in their prime as they parade about and - another huff of laughter. "Don't encourage her, C'iel." BECAUSE REALLY, LET US REITERATE: HAVE YOU MET LEIRITH? Risali might say something else, but there's something that catches her attention, something that earns a soft noise in the weyrwoman's throat that's half exasperation, half annoyance, half something else and to Teinon and C'iel both, she's offering a hushed, "Excuse me for just a moment." And there she goes, striding towards the treeline like she's about to KICK SOME HINEY, Leirith's attention tilting that-way-wards before she refocuses on little bitty blues. Too much cute.

Teinon's eyes go a little wide at the weyrwoman's expression. He watches her storm off, suddenly looking 100 percent more timid than he did just a moment ago. He glances back to C'iel with a tiny smile, then glances down at himself. And that is when he remembers just /how/ covered in muck he is. He grimaces a little, probably a touch embarrassed, but offers C'iel a salute. He indicates the mud-stained clothes as explanation for his departure, but offers C'iel a friendly sort of clap on the shoulder before he heads off in the general direction of the baths. Which /just so happens/ to be the opposite of the direction that Risali just stormed off to. Go figure!

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