Tattoos and Touching

Summer - Month 7 of Turn 2717
Igen Weyr - Lake Shore
It is sometimes hard to tell where the bowl ends and the lake shore begins. Fine grains of gold, tan and orange hued sand layer much as the bowl walls in the distance beyond. The sand only gives way to thin patches of grass where the tall fence of the feeding grounds intersects the lake to the south and the smooth curve of the bowl wall rises on the opposite shore. At that intersection one can make out a small building and colorful fabrics where the Weyr's residents go to relax. The shallow lake waters shimmer invitingly, day and night, lapping at the fine grain sands. Engineered pipes are hidden beneath the bowl landscape and feed the lake as well as the grasses of the feeding grounds to keep the water levels from dropping past a certain point which is marked by a waist high obelisk.


Shetaia says, "That sounds like a plan, Triven. My cot is the one with the potted tree. Just don't put anything near the tree, it seems to occasionally eat things. Mostly small gnats and vtols that get too close." she shifts in her spot on the blanket and hmms at Nassir "It's possible that I could heal but I prefer to put most of my attention to the task at hand. I've still my duties in the infirmary and Zeraeth might allow me to measure and track her eggs as well. I would not like to divide my time anymore I don't think."

Triven nods and grins at Shetaia "Ok sounds good." About the tattoo that is, over to Nassir he says "Depends on the person, the neck actually heals the quickest because if how elastic the skin is." Wait! "What do you mean it eats things? S'las gave you a plant that eats meat?" Not that he puts it past the man who told that harper apprentice the weyrharper died by flying piano.

Nassir couldn't look more confused as he glances at Taia. "Huh? I mean, it'll be bandaged on your neck? How…" Letting the matter drop, he rolls his shoulders in an easy shrug, half rolling onto his side to snag more grapes out of the bowl. It's the reaction to the meat eating tree, however, that has him spilling back onto his back and laughing. "It's horrifying, right? We're going to wake up one day missing fingers and toes."

It's summer. In Igen. And R'sner will never, ever understand why anyone would want to hang out on the beach, baking in the sun, under such conditions. And yet, here he is. Or rather, here /Toith/ is, angling herself for an empty patch of sand and soon executing a rather flawless landing. But she is far enough away that whatever sand she kicks up with her backwinging, it's unlikely to cause much of a disturbance. Waddle-walking in that awkward gait that grounded dragons display, she heads unerringly for the gathering of candidates to stick her nosy-nose right into their business. Hey. Hi. How are you? How you don't mind a dragon snout in your conversation. Snort. And Res? Apparently abandoned somewhere along the way. Never fear, he shall be along shortly.

Shetaia could be afraid of needles, you never know! Or she's just that kind of a focused person. "The Sapling won't eat fingers or toes, not unless you leave them in there for it to gnaw on. That one candidate, what's his face keeps getting within reach and he's got all his bits still." Taia totally has her boring floppy hat for the sun though, there is always baking, it's Igen after all. Then there is a Toith and she glances from nose to the rest of the dragon "Well, greetings."

Triven blinks for a moment as there is a new set of shade here, wait no that is a dragon. He looks at the other two humans and grins "We seem to have attracted company." Yes captain obvious it is a dragon.. He tilts his head so he can check out the rest of the green dragon, he raises an eyebrow at Nassir silently questioning him.

It's hard not to spot Toith overhead and Nassir immediately pushes up on his elbows with a broad smile. "Oi, Toith! I've missed you." When her head is suddenly amongst them, he rolls up onto his knees and immediately scritches at her eye ridges with an adoring smile. "This is Toith," he asides to his companions. "Toith, this is Taia, you remember her? And that is Triven." In the wake of the introductions, his chin is tilting up, dark eyes scanning the surrounding sand for any sight of R'sner.

Toith is pretty good at being a sunblock, it's true. She doesn't even have to try, she's so awesome at it. A chuffle-snort for Shetaia. But really, it's that prone tailor-turned-candidate that is going to get a snout in his stomach if he's not fast enough to avoid it. She doesn't croon (because Toith does not croon!) but there's a suspiciously pleased sound rumbling up in the back of her throat for the dishing out of eyeridge scritches. Much approved. Greetings will have to be one-sided until R'sner makes his way over to act as translator, but it would be safe to assume that there is acknowledgement for the trio. At least the human half isn't terribly far behind, though he might be looking a fair bit sour by the time he catches up to his dragon. Sand. Not his favorite. Sun? Also not his favorite. And he might just be a touch jealous of Shetaia and her floppy hat by the time he's close enough to see her in it. From the bowl, to the beach, and finally to the group comprised of candidates and green dragon.

Shetaia may not be the most demonstrative person in the world but Nassir's reaction to the green draws a smile from her. "Ah, I thought that might be Toith. I still haven't had a chance to get back to Half Moon. My research will just have to follow Igen's clutch more closely I'm afraid." and while Nassir is distracted she might just take the chance to snitch one of the grapes. She does have the occasional bit of mischief in her after all. "Triven, I did wonder how your drawing of dragons and their anatomy are? I can sketch a bit when needed but for some of the diagrams I'd like they need more detail."

Triven grins saying "They are pretty good, I used to help my Lady with her drawings of them for her own studies. Is there something specific you would like?" Take no mind great dragon that this pale skinned man with the tattoos is also taking mental notes of Toith's measurements and coloring too. He looks past the green once and grins saying to Nassir in a little brother teasing tone as he can "OHHHHHHH Someones Beau is here…" he even sticks out his tongue at the tailor.

Nassir exhales an 'oof' sound at Toith-snout in his stomach. It's followed with an adoring laugh, however, and the dutiful scritching of big green eye ridges. "It is," he assures Taia with an exceedlingly pleased expression. The grapes? Oh, he's too distracted with loving on Toith to notice, but they are communal property as far as he is concerned. It's the sight of R'sner heading for them that has Nassir rolling to his feet, his smile warming as he extricates himself from dragon-lovin to head him off at the pass. "Yes," he laughs to Triven. "He is." And Nassir could not possibly be happier about that fact. That he's broken into a trot before closing the distance? Only serves to make the arms around the waist tackling hug all the more impactful. "You finished early," he notes in tones that are exceedingly pleased. Winding himself around the Half Moon Weyrlingmaster, he squirms until he's neatly tucked under R'sner's arm, one arm sweeping out to the group on the blanket. "This is R'sner," he provides to his companions. "Rider of Green Toith, and Weyrlingmaster for Half Moon. R'sner, you remember Taia, the dragonhealer? And this is Triven, he's the tattoo artist that did Lani's tattoo." And yes, Nassir is doing his damnedest to nudge-bump-guide R'sner to the blanket.

R'sner survives that rather aggressive display of affection (probably because he braced for impact and has grown wise to Nassir's exuberance), and is accommodating enough to having a candidate attached to his side for the duration of his walk. "No," he corrects, resignation and apology both in that one word. "On a break of… sorts. But I have to go back later." So, just an interlude. "And I brought food," as promised, "But I left it behind in the caverns." Because like heck was he going to trek out here with a basket of things over his arm - he's already looking a bit wilted just walking /himself/ to his dragon. Who gets a glare, for ditching him. Toith? Unconcerned and titling her head to angle one great, whirling eye at Triven. Peer-peer. I see you, says that look. "I remember," murmured as introductions come, blue eyes tightening briefly at Shetaia as they take her in. It's not an entirely friendly look, but it's not outright rude, either. But it doesn't linger long on the dragonhealer-candidate when forthcoming information on how Triven is connected to a certain greenrider in Xanadu comes to light. And then? Well. Then that gaze of his is pointedly on the young tattoo artist in a manner that is just shy of being inappropriate. Squint. Peer. Scowl. Does not approve. "Hm." At least he is successfully bump-nudged toward the blanket?

Shetaia pops another stolen/community property grape into her mouth before leaning back onto her corner for the blanket. Her hat is adjusted to keep the sun out of her eyes as she hmms in Triven's direction. "Mostly close up of wing anatomy, and again perhaps other things. Depends on what the focus is at the time. If there's a particular thing I'd like put into a text it would be great to have you render it in proper fashion." Then there's the reintroduction of R'sner and she rises to offer a nod of respect for the Weyrlingmaster. "Nice to see you again." if she was a better people person she might worry about the not entirely friendly look but, either she doesn't notice or she's forging on in the face of hopefully more friendly and still not rude later.

Triven isn't even phased by the 'I don't like what you do' look from the green rider, instead he just grins and nods to R'sner "Afternoon." He slightly turns towards the dragonhealer saying "Sure, just let me know what you need help with. I still have to draw the eggs for S'las' blue dragon." Because that isn't going to be an easy task at all. Though he is talking to people he still is studying the green dragon down to the smallest detail.

Nassir could not possibly look happier and he doesn't bother trying to hide it. "An interlude?" Cue the momentary pout, before he's nodding about the basket of food. "Thank goodness," he sighs. "I spilled an entire pot of stew and was banned from the kitchen for the day." It wasn't his fault! It's the grunting, though that truly broadens his smile, dark eyes shining with delight. "He's very talented," Nassir points out. "And Lani /loves/ her tattoo." Which translates into 'be nice'. "I practiced swimming earlier," he provides as he tugs R'sner down on the blanket and settles down to sit impossibly close to his side. Personal space? No such thing with Nassir. "Well, floating," he admits. "I didn't go beyond waist deep," he adds cause he /knows/ R'sner. Without missing a beat, the tailor twists around, tugging a thermos of cool water from under his shirt and pressing it into R'sner's hand. "Drink, you don't want to dehydrate."

Shetaia is almost intrigued by the display of human affection. It's almost something that would be study worthy. But then she happens to notice the angle of the sun and pushes to her feet. "It was pleasant seeing you all." and perhaps one day she will add, "even you R'sner" but for now she simply nods and treks off to some duty or another.

Triven gives a wave to Shetaia as she heads out before he glances at the couple and chuckles to himself. He starts taking grapes for himself at this time as well because well Nassir has his hands full. "Well to be fair I think you did us a favor Nassir, that soup smelled rather foul." He should know he was wearing it.

Does R'sner dislike what Triven does for a living? Maybe. Or maybe it's the where of that particular piece of art that Lani loves so very much that has the weyrlingmaster looking especially displeased with the tattoo-artist. Either way, there's no change in that expression despite Nassir's insistence that Triven is talented, and that the bearer of his artwork (Lani) loves it. "Hm," for it being afternoon, which is about all the greeting likely to be gotten from him. Shetaia? Another look, a bit of a frown, and he decides, "Sure," for seeing her again, and whether or not it is nice. That she decides to bolt? Well, he's not going to stop her. Down, to the blanket and, thankfully, a bit of shade since Toith has not given up a single inch of space sense she claimed it. "Did you?" for Nassir's swimming and, while it seems inquisitive enough (I mean, it's a flat and even sort of tone, with a slight inflection at the end that maybe hints at curiosity) there's a brief study of the tailor as he wiggles in against him. This is apparently acceptable, because Res does not attempt to disengage. Even as reassurances are given and thermoses are pushed at him. A twitch of his eyebrow up, a twitch of his mouth down; altogether unreadable beyond the general 'grump' and discontent that seems to be so very prevalent. But he does as told, regardless, and drinks.

"Take care, Taia," Nassir calls as she heads out. Flashing a grin over to Triven, he exhales a quiet laugh, his brows rising and falling in a playful twitch. "Considering they dumped it on you? I can just imagine." Nestled under R'sner's arm, Nassir gives an easy nod at the grunt of inquiry. "I did. It's getting easier," he admits. "To float. But I'm not going deeper then my waist without you there." As the water is drank, his smile softens, one hand reaching up to brush his fingers over the line of R'sner's jaw. Without missing a beat, he glances at Triven and mouths 'see?' before exhaling a delighted laugh. "Mm.. How is Between going? Is the office finished being rebuilt? Tanit's Chauth," he provides to Triven. "Crashed into the Weyrlingmaster's office and it had to be rebuilt."

Triven blinks and chuckles "Well, that sounds expensive." Because obviously the dragon is fine or there would be more ruckus and less joking. Triven leans back on his own towel, see R'sner he is staying on his own side. "But then last time I was at half moon they exploded a sea monster and I was deaf for almost a sevenday."

"I thought it was you who…" spilled the pot, though R'sner (wisely, perhaps) decides not to continue that thought. Instead, he simply tips up that thermos and takes another, longer, drink of it. There's a subtle tightening of his jaw, accompanied by an equally subtle tightening of his gaze, at the mention of floating. But, whether he approves or disapproves, what he finally says on the matter is, "I am glad it is getting easier." It's perhaps a bit forced, but he's trying. The draw of fingers along his jaw at least gets a softening of his expression. "It is… going." And that is all he has to say about Between. But of Chauth? His expression says it all, really. Though it should be noted that he is doing a remarkable job of keeping various sounds of disapproval and frustration to himself. "They… painted it," he offers at last, clearing his throat. Exploding sea monsters? That gets a long, /long/ look before says, "That was before my time. I did hear about it…" because how could he not have?

Nassir blinks a few times. "Exploded a sea monster? There are sea monsters?" Glancing back at R'sner, he huffs. "This is a great reason for not going in the water." After which, he glances at the nearbye lake, clearly wondering what might be lurking in there. At the mention of the pot, he laughs and blushes. "I did, the first time. But once it was cleaned up, they spilled it all over Triven." Really, it was a mess, a complete mess. He does, however, tilt his head at the subtle tightening of R'sner's gaze, his teeth worrying at his lip for a long moment. "I'll wait til you're here before doing it again," he assures. Shifting on the blanket, he smooths one hand over the small of R'sner's back, the other snaking out to grab some grapes. "What color did they paint it?" He /hates/ that he's missing this stuff so very much.

Triven chuckles and nods "It was a right mess, but sadly now that I am dry and somewhat clean I need to head back in." He gets up and gives a bow to R'sner saying "good to meet you in person." He grins at Nassir "See you tonight, we can work on those shorts if you are still game." He does turn and give a bow to the green dragon saying "And a pleasure meeting you as well Toith, you are ever much as awe inspiring as Nassir said." He then has his towel and is off at a jog back towards the barracks to get changed for what ever else they have planed for him.

"No," is R'sner's quick response to Nassir's reassurances. "If you want to practice, practice…" and however he feels about it will be dealt with. "And yes. There are some creatures in the sea that might fit the term 'monster', though the creature that washed ashore in Half Moon only did so as a result of a hurricane," which, apparently, means there is little to be worried about if R'sner's tone of voice and dismissive hand-flick is anything to go by. "Doubt there's anything at all in that lake. Maybe a fish." Just the one, though. It is Triven's exit that has him shifting once again, a bit of a squint in his direction before he relents and offers a polite enough, "well met, Triven," that will have to serve as his farewell. Toith can be friendly for the both of them, and offers a pleased sort of rumbly-wuffle sound. Awe-inspiring is much better praise than 'lovely' or 'pretty'. She approves. As for those barracks? "Beige… about every shade of beige…" but beige. "Including the floor."

Nassir smiles faintly as he watches Triven head out, one hand raising in an easy wave. In the wake of the gesture, he twists around, rolling up onto his knees and slips in until he is straddling R'sner's lap. "Did I do something wrong?" The question is asked as he drapes his arms around the Weyrlingmaster's shoulders, the concern in his face clear. "I don't like it when you say do what you want, Res. If you don't want me to do something, tell me? Please?" He's honestly concerned, but that doesn't stop him from noting in teasing tones. "I love you and I kind of love it when you give orders."

Immediately, R'sner's hands find Nassir's hips as he moves to straddle him. It is a resistant sort of move, meant to block rather than assist. But it is brief, and he allows the completion of that movement if just because they are on a beach, in broad daylight (or, well, under the shade of Toith's wing) and because Nassir is looking at him with concern and question. It is a look that has him sighing just a bit, and those arms of his wrapping around to draw the tailor closer. "You did not do anything wrong," he insists, voice dropped low despite that the only one to hear them is Toith. "Which is precisely why I told you to practice, if you wish to practice. Does it make me comfortable, the thought of you…" out in the water, alone? With others? But it's a slight shake of his head that finishes that sentence. At least that last comment has his eyebrows twitching up in faint amusement. "You may regret that," he warns.

"No chance," Nassir murmurs in response to the last. "I'll regret nothing of the sort." Snuggling in comfortably against R'sner's chest, he dips his head, full lips brushing a tender kiss over the hollow of the Weyrlingmaster's throat. "And I'll wait until you can be here with me to go back in the water," he promises. It is in the wake of the promise that he draws his head back, admitting quietly. "It was kinda tense and uncomfortable, alone. It made me miss you, alot." Sighing at the words, he smooths his hands over R'sner's shoulders, blunt nails lightly scratching at the nape of his neck.

"Don't swim alone." If Nassir wanted an order, well there it is. Almost unbidden, and entirely prompted by the confirmation that he had gone /alone/ into the lake to practice. "Never alone," repeats R'sner. "There should be someone there with you, until you are comfortable…" and preferably, that someone will be him. The kiss at least softens his expression, if not the rest of him. Shoulders stiff and posture somewhat rigid, he nonetheless tightens his arms around the tailor for a moment or two. But his gaze drops to meet his as Nassir draws his head away. The admittance has him offering a bit of a frown, a furrowing of eyebrows and downward turn of his mouth that is more apologetic and concerned rather than disapproving. At least until the whisper of nails to neck has him offering another of those unwelcome sounds in the back of his throat. A quick "Don't," is delivered with a hint of warning.

"I won't do it again," Nassir promises in quiet tones. At the last, however, his brows furrow, confusion tracing through his eyes. "What? We're allowed to touch you know?" Still, his fingers uncurl, his palms moving to rest lightly on R'sner's shoulders. Course, he did not miss the sound in the back of R'sner's throat and he immediately realizes that he's not the least bit immune to that. "Right, right.. Okay." Clearing his throat, he takes a few deep breaths, a quiet laugh spilling past his lips as he drops his head to rest his brow on Res' shoulder. That, however, doesn't help at all, since he immediately finds himself inhaling the Weyrlingmaster's scent. "Mm… Well, I knew this was going to be hard," he notes in wry tones. "I didn't realize how literal that was going to be." Oddly enough, there is a smile on his face as he tilts his head back up, one hand raising to gently cup R'sner's cheek. "I love that you affect me like this."

"We can," agrees R'sner, for touching, "But there are limits. And they are not just for /your/ sake," he continues, voice gone briefly wry. "This is no easier for me," is somewhat resigned and a bit on the grumpy-side, a disgruntled look ghosting briefly across his expression. "It's /how/ you are touching," he elaborates, perhaps unnecessarily. "This…" and there's a brief squeeze of his arms as though to demonstrate what he means, "Is toeing the line." Ah, those invisible lines that he's drawn and yet, has not made known. Seriousness aside, there's a dry little grin for Nassir and his hardships. It softens into clear affection at the touch to his cheek. Cobalt-blues briefly search the face of the tailor in his lap before Res leans forward to kiss him gently, soft and sweet and entirely too chaste.

"I understand," Nassir whispers in the wake of that too chaste kiss. And while he doesn't particularly want to move? He does slip out of R'sner's lap, twisting around to stretch out on the blanket with his head in the Weyrlingmaster's lap. "I get that it's supposed to be about fairness," he grumps as he stretches out one arm to wrap around Res' waist. "Cause of the whole pregnancy thing." Doesn't mean he has to like it, though. Exhaling a gusty sigh, he wrinkles his nose, his palm pressing to the flat of R'sner's back. "S'las says we'll be touching the eggs, soon," he admits in an attempt to take his mind off the fact that he really wants to be in R'sner's lap. "That'll be fun. It's a little scary though. I'd have thought touching them would be dangerous."

"It's…" But whatever R'sner might have thought to add in regards to no-sex rules, it doesn't come. The word fades away, as his hold relents and his arms slide away from Nassir as he moves off his lap and down to the blanket. And while he doesn't protest that move (or the rule), he's clearly not thrilled with it either. Hands relocated, one to the blanket behind him while the other sets about drawing his fingers through the length of Nassir's hair. "Just be gentle," is R'sner's advice. "The eggs should be hard enough that touching them will not hurt them. Have they… spoken about what that might be like?"

Nassir shakes his head faintly, his free hand raising to give a slow wave. "A little bit? S'las says that you can feel things from the eggs, but I'm not really clear on what that means." Falling silent a moment, his gaze goes distant, his expression musing before he looks back up at R'sner's face. "I want to thank you," he whispers in hushed tones. "For coming here like this to spend time with me. I know.. I know you have a lot going on and responsibilities to attend to, and it means alot. I feel bad for Triven, his lady is one of the Weyrlings from Lani's class and she has contacted him at all since he sent her word he was here. I'd be heartbroken."

"Thoughts and feelings," murmurs R'sner, of the eggs. "Like falling into someone else's dream." But idle descriptions of things that are somewhat indescribable fade away in the wake of whispered gratitude. That has him frowning, the caress of his hand halted as he drops his chin to meet Nassir's gaze full on. The confusion is evident, at least until the explanation comes in full and understanding dawns in its place. "I couldn't do that," is the equally quiet reply. "I couldn't… I can't…" but whatever he means to say, it is either difficult to form into words, or else he's reluctant to do so. "I love you," is what he says at last. "I may not… I might have obligations that keep me from coming for a time, or cause me to leave abruptly, but I could never abandon you." Simple enough, but there is a bit of weight to those words.

"I know," Nassir assures quietly. "I just wanted you to know that I love you for that. It means a lot to me." And he feels bad for Triven. Exhaling a breath, he cranes his neck, pressing his face into R'sner's belly for a moment before resettling in his lap. "Is it weird," he whispers. "That this is getting a little scary the closer we get? I mean, it's exciting, but…" He doesn't know how to explain it. "It feels like I spend most of my time trying to find ways not to think about it. What.. what was your experience, when you touched the eggs?"

A light clearing of R'sner's throat, and a quick glance for the lake, before he's watching Nassir curl into him and doing his best to return the embrace. Awkwardly, considering their positions, but the attempt is made nonetheless. And he might just be a touch more disgruntled about those aforementioned rules, both obligatory and self-imposed. "No," he decides, allowing displeasure to fade and his attention to come to the subject at hand. "I would expect it is natural. Don't you remember how antsy the candidates at Half Moon Bay were, just before the Hatching?" Perhaps, or perhaps not. As for his own? A deeper breath, a subtle shiver at some unspoken memory, and a bit of a pause. A glance for Toith, and his gaze lingers there for a spell before he decides, "I don't remember all of them. But I remember hers." And… perhaps it was not a very enjoyable experience. "It was…" a frown. "I don't want to frighten you, Nassir. But not all eggs are pleasant to touch."

Nassir exhales a quiet laugh in response to R'sner's last, one hand reaching up to trace his lips. "You aren't going to scare me. I'd have been shocked to hear that you got anything gentle from Toith." And he loves her for that. "It's all part of her charm. Really? I'd rather be prepared for what might happen then be taken by surprise." Letting his arm drop, he folds it over his stomach, dark eyes still watching R'sner's face.

"It was more than…" a pause. A deeper breath that pulls him back to the present. "You ought to know that who Toith is now, is not how she felt in the egg," which is important, for what R'sner is about to say. But it is still another moment of indecision, and perhaps a bit of conversing with the green in question (who deigns to rumble an audible response that is probably agreement or consent.). "It hurt," he finally says, bluntly. "Pain. Like a knife searing through my head, through my mind. And then… it was… " but it takes a moment for him to really put thoughts into words, lips pressed into a thin line as he considers how to be coherent. "It was like looking in a mirror, but only seeing the worst things. Or… no. That's not quite right. It was like calling forth and glorifying all of the worst traits one could possess. It was… weird." Which is the most mild means of explaining that entire situation.

Nassir glances at Toith as he listens, his expression softening as he stretches out one hand to lightly brush her hide. "That does sound scary," he admits in quiet tones. "But look at the two of you, it's amazing." Letting his hand drop, his arm refolds over his stomach, dark eyes warm as he looks from Dragon to Rider. "Did everyone see that when they touched her egg," he asks curiously.

"Her mind is nothing like that, now," murmurs R'sner, watching Toith for a bit longer before he's letting his gaze drop away and settle on Nassir instead. "I don't know," he admits. "If we," the candidates, "discussed it, I don't remember. But I would imagine so. I have never heard of one candidate experiencing something entirely different than another, from the same egg." A touch of his hand to the tailor's shoulder, a gentle squeeze of his fingers, and he murmurs, "Sit up," and then an apologetic, "I have to get going," because as foretold, this is but an interlude in his day.

Nassir groans at the announcement, his arm withdrawing as he rolls up to sitting on the blanket. "Alright, I hope everything goes well with Between." Pushing his hand through his hair, he pauses a beat before leaning in to try to brush a kiss over R'sner's lips. He makes a point, however, to move slowly enough that it can be evaded. "I love you."

There is nothing about R'sner that wants to evade that kiss, and his preference is made quite clear in the quick catch at the front of Nassir's shirt to pull him in for a proper kiss. It is /quick/ at least (or, perhaps that is to be lamented), and he is soon murmuring a returned, "I love you." It is getting easier; speaking those three words. A moment, spent just watching Nassir in that focused way of his; as though he can't see anything or anyone else. Just him. And then he's pushing himself to his feet with a sigh, and Toith is pushing herself up from the sand, and there is a general moment of discomfort and disgruntlement as he considers his next action. "Don't forget the food…" that he left in the caverns for him.

Nassir exhales the sort of sound that is definitely a lament when the kiss ends. Still, he's smiling and rolling up to his feet with a quick nod. "I won't forget," he promises. Stepping closer, he momentarily smooths a hand over Toith's hide before adding. "I miss you too, Toith. And I'll see you both as soon as you can." Reluctantly, he draws back a step, toeing the empty bowl of fruit before stooping to start folding up his blanket. "Give the Weyrlings my love, please."

"I will tell them you said hi," decides R'sner, who is just going to keep the love to himself. It comes as he's pulling himself up Toith's side, settling at her neck as she rises. For her part, the green offers a wuffle in Nassir's direction, and Res offers an entirely unnecessary, "She misses you, too," in translation. A last look, and then the pair are turning to waddle-walk in that awkward, totally embarrassing grounded-dragon walk until it is safe enough for them to take off without causing a sandstorm on the beach. Up, up, and then gone /Between/ in the blink of an eye.


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