Wrestling And Responsibilities

Spring - Month 4 of Turn 2717
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Weyrling Training Field
Near the tall black eastern wall of the crater is a cleared field. The earth there has been churned many times over by the landings and take offs of young dragons and only a few patches of grass cling to life in this active area. Wooden props and markers used to assist the weyrlings as they learn the precise maneuvers required for the rescue and protection work that the weyr is famous for, litter the training field. Close to the rimwall, in the east where the sun is usually shaded is a large wooden slat barracks for the weyrlings to live in. Tropical trees and shrubs have been allowed to grow here, perfuming the air with a floral scent.


Those who know what to look for may see that telltale flash high above on the ledges that ring the Weyrling training grounds, the pale golden queen who stalks the area practicing movement and motion with the utmost attention. Pale flash of hide the only thing to give away her position. The downside of course of being so very large and still growing, is that she's now about as large as many of the blues and greens tasked with teaching. So naturally the tail twitch and pounce that is aimed for Toith is in the spirit of good fun and masked to the best of the young gold's ability.

Toith is not old per se. But she is old enough to sense an impending attack. Especially given that it has become something of a habit. One that Toith thoroughly encourages when R'sner is not around to chide her for it. And so while she doesn't move beyond the rustle of wings and the roll of dragonic shoulders, she is ready for the collision when it comes, allowing the pounce and the weight of the already-bigger-than-her Chauth to send her tumbling to the side, a loud trumpet of surprise (that isn't terribly surprised) converted quickly enough to a bugle of challenge, a very bring it on declaration that gets echoed in the flash and zing of her mind. « Ha! S'on now, lady! » And up she goes, launching herself at Chauth with the clear intention of giving just as good as she gets. Holding back? Pft. Nope. Well. Maybe a little, if just because the (comparatively) little queen is still growing, still maturing, still, potentially, prone to injuries that older dragons might not be. But Toith certainly isn't going to be pulling any punches.

Suddenly she is simply there the bright and wild dance of white hot flame, the chime of throaty rich laughter in answer to the challenge. Chauth preferring to use muscle and bulk rather than words. Of course the little gold is a quick study, using some of the green's lessons from the last encounter of this kind. Thrilled with the invitation to play and wrassle. Tanit looks up from the book she has been reading in the hammock still strung up in the yard, what off handedly looks like a book of different strap designs and leather techniques.

Tumbling (wrestling!) is well and truly Toith's favorite thing to do. Wrestling in mud or something equally gross would be even better but, absent of that… this will do. Chortling in amusement, the green is more about encouraging her counter-part than trash-talking her. And it makes not a whit of difference whether Chauth answers in words, deeds, or not at all, there will still be a chorus encouraging comments such as « Tha's th' way! » and « Throw your shoulder innit! » and « Fas'r! Ya gotta be quick! » to egg her on. Any time a hit should land on Toith? A playful snarl and the immediate spring in return. And any time a hit lands on Chauth? A crow of triumph before she's offering tips on how to avoid it in the future. And the green is LOUD. Both in mind and voice, bugling victories or roaring with defeats, hitting the ground with an audible thump and boom and whump of force that soon has R'sner exiting the little office building and peering toward the pair with a critical eye. It is a look that quickly moves away from wrestling beasties to seek out Tanit; to at least ensure that she is here and she is okay with this sort of behavior. And then resignation from the weyrlingmaster, who decides to just watch the show rather than make a fuss about it.

Chauth isn't much for trash talking in a friendly bout, rather absorbing the green's words of wisdom with eagerness. The Exchange of blows passing evenly, the verbal exchange quieter than the exchange of blows. It's R'sner's exodus of the office that earns an arch of her brow and a half smile that slowly spreads. "I Gave up discouraging this sort of thing weeks ago. Toith teaches her things she wants to know, in exchange she doesn't pounce the more fragile of her siblings. Unless you object it seems like a fair enough exchange to avoid more broken furnishings don't you think Sir?" Sea green eyes flick to the wrassling pair. "Was Toith always as active?"

And so the tumbling continues, though Toith does well to keep them away from objects prone to destruction; like wooden buildings, people, siblings… R'sner. Who just sighs the sigh of someone who has long accepted the shenanigans of his dragon, despite not necessarily liking them. "No, I do not object," he declares, snagging a chair with the hook of an ankle and dragging it across the porch to drop into with another sigh. "Toith is restrained enough not to cause injury, and I doubt Chauth could mortally wound my green," and there's a dry sort of curl to the corner of his mouth. "It is exercise, if nothing else." The curl of his lips only grows; a smile that is fondly nostalgic as well as somewhat sarcastically amused as he declares, "Always. And we learned some… hard lessons before self-restraint was exercised." By her? By him? Both, perhaps. "A few broken cots is less important than the broken bones she could have inflicted," he notes for Chauth. Which is to say that he understands, even if he was (and is) duty-bound to dish out some discipline for the destruction of property.

"She has no desire to do such a thing - I'm not sure I could Imagine Chauth ever having such a desire. Though I know she probably could be capable of it under the right circumstances." Tanit ponders watching the dragons with a smile. "It keeps them out of more severe trouble if nothing else?" Tanit sighs watching her, "She's going to keep getting so much bigger - I would not wish her to be anything other than what she is and yet - my aching muscles do wish her hide was green rather than gold. There's so much more to clean. So many more things she can actually break." It almost sounds petulant. "So many things I never really had to think about before to be honest." She makes space for R'sner to sit if he so wishes, bare feet trailing over the dusty ground. "Thread is gone, yet dragons still rise, the weyrs may not be as full as they were in ancient times but they exist - persist even. I've never had to think about their purpose before, not in this context."

"Oh no," agrees R'sner quickly. "And I did not mean to imply that she would, simply that… accidentally speaking…" but he waves a hand in the direction of the pair, "Toith's got enough experience behind her to land on her feet." Metaphorically speaking. Like a cat. An actual huff of laughter comes for the hide to clean, and the things to break (or the potential things that could be broken, as it were), until he's offering a rueful shake of his head. "Don't underestimate the determination of a little green," and he juts his chin at Toith as he sinks into the offered spot. "Broke more things than I care to remember; spent most of my first turn or two out of weyrlinghood working to replace them." But he does show a bit of sympathy to her hide-cleaning plight. Thread is gone. "It is." And dragons still rise. "They do," he agrees, slanting a sideways glance toward the weyrling. "And you do now?" Have to think about the purpose of the weyrs. "What have you concluded?" he wonders, eyes moving back to the tumbling pair.

"Accidentally speaking." Tanit nods in agreement with a soft chuckle. "I'm glad of her, really. I hope you will convey my thanks. I think if she didn't have some larger playmates she might have accidentally squished Zych by now." The former dolphineer notes sullenly. Laughter bursts and she nods, "I didn't mean to imply that greens were not a force unto themselves. Only that have a little bit less hide to clean." Mischief in her smile, but the last question draws some sobriety back into the moment. "I don't know what to think. From the lessons - I know historically search and rescue has been the foundation for Half Moon, and it seems to have been enough - but who knows what the future might bring on."

"That they do," and for a moment, Res looks altogether relieved that Toith is the size that she is. "Though I will hope, for your sake, that Chauth does not favor filth as much as Toith does." Seriously. The green spends ninety-nine percent of her life covered in something gross, and then fighting tooth and nail against the bath that R'sner inflicts upon her. But the question of worth, of what place the Weyr and dragonkind might hold in the future of Pern, has him quietly considering Tanit with a look that might be annoying. It's definitely got that edge of 'instructor teaching lessons'. But he listens well before tilting his head to the side and offering a vague "Mm," as commentary. "Search and rescue, yes. Transportation as well; and I doubt there will come a time when holders and crafters alike don't prize the ability of a dragon to transport themselves across the globe in the blink of an eye," or the passing of three heart-beats, as the case may be. "Does it concern you?" The unknown future. "Or is it merely a curiosity?"

"She does not enjoy remaining filthy, but she does not mind dirt." Or blood, or well - lots of things." Tanit gives a nod for transportation, "There's that too, though at that point, you've got how many other weyrs competing for the transportation rights. Most stick to the traditional coverage area but - " She shrugs, "Isn't it supposed to now? Concern me I mean." Sea-green eyes shift to where Chauth has gotten herself pinned. « Nice one, I'll have to remember that. » Tanit sighs, "I can't run from responsibility for forever."

"Mm…" and this time the sound is more speculative rather than acknowledgement, the weyrlingmaster considering the dragons with brief interest before he offers, "It is. And no, you can't," he agrees, though the tone of his voice strongly suggests the 'but' that is about to come, "But you do not have to assume those responsibilities immediately. That is what weyrlinghood is all about," he offers. "She is a queen, and you will be a weyrwoman, and perhaps more than most dragonriders, your position will require you to consider the future of the Weyr and dragonkind… But," he continues, "Right now you are a weyrling. "This is the time to concern yourself with her," and there's a flick of his fingers toward Chauth and Toith, clearly meant to indicate the former, "and you, and how you fit together. To learn how to be a dragonrider, first. Before you take on the rest of that weight." A shrug of his shoulders. "They are not problems that will vanish anytime soon. Might as well enjoy this freedom while you can." Freedom. As if being a weyrling were somehow /easy/. Snort. Laugh. Toith is all smug pride, both for her ability to pin Chauth, and for Chauth's eagerness to learn from it. « Yup-yup! » she agrees with what might be laughter, if dragons were capable of such a thing.

Tanit nods, "It's not that I want to take on that responsibility right away, but… inorder to learn how to be a rider, I need to understand what that means." She laughs, "But you are right, though, I don't think wrapping my head around her will be any easier a task." The dolphineer is drawing to her feet and the gold is making chuffing noises, dissapointed. « I am supposed to go get another bath. » Sigh. "Thank you though. For the talk."

Baths are the worst, though Toith will not say as much (if just because R'sner has sternly warned her against doing so towards young, impressionable minds. Huff. Kill-joy). But there is an empathetic chuff from the green who rights herself slowly, stretching out wings and limbs in a slow progression. « Later, killer, » she decides, with a tone of voice that might suggest a grin. For R'sner's part, there's an accepting tilt of his head to the side; acknowledging the duality of responsibility and learning it. "You are welcome, Tanit," offered as she stands, the weyrlingmaster soon up on his feet with the clear intention of getting back to whatever work he left in the office. There is, however, a long and lingering look at Toith that is subtly soft and affectionate. And then he's gone and closing the door behind him.


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