Newborn Sun Worship

Western Weyr - Weyrling Barracks
Inside the wooden building fresh air circulates from the many open windows lining the two longest walls. Outside, you can see many tropical trees and shrubs. The walls and ceiling of the barracks are made of slats that have been pegged together tightly. Overhead are beams from which electric lights have been strung. The floor is of black volcanic stone, rubbed to a smoothness that will not hurt the tender claws of young dragons.
Along each of the two longer walls are cots set up next to rounded depressions in the stone. There are enough areas available for all of the young dragons and their new riders with room to spare. At the back of the barracks are trunks with oiling supplies and bins where fresh meat is delivered until the dragonets learn to hunt for themselves.


There is..basking to be had. Or at least one very contented brown dragonet that's sprawled himself into a depression of stone. His wings half-spread beneath his smallish frame, paws up in the air as he languishes in complete comfort. Yes, Loxiath even has his own pillow made up of human lap, wedge-shaped head resting on V'ric's legs. Every so often his jaws part, opening with a soft, plaintive noise before a glob of raw, purplish meat is deposited there for him to enjoy. Oh yes, life outside the egg is blissful indeed.

Quite like a feline, Shadhavarth is poised gracefully in her chosen stone depression, neck twisting and stretched across the lap of Iris who sits criss-cross on the floor beside her. Iris is crooning a soft lullaby to the dragonet, tracing fingers across the golden hide. Beside the weyrling pair is a bucket of meat, and like the others, every so often a chunk is transferred from bucket to dragon maw. When her verse ends, Iris looks up at the others in the barracks, grinning at the different colors, shapes and sizes that arrived in her clutchmates.

V'ric does lightly trail a hand along Loxiath's muzzle now and then. Really, the young man seems almost like he's in a trance. At least for a while. He blinks just a bit, looking over and around the barracks in a bit of a daze before finally settling for looking at Idris. "I don't even remember coming in here. How..long..?" Really, it's easy to lose track of time when your mind is trying to wrap around and grasp a steady beacon of light. He shakes his head, automatically shoveling a new piece of meat to the brown's maw. "This is so much..stranger than I expected."

Iris shrugs at V'ric and continues to gaze around the barracks. "They must've herded us in. I've been in a daze…" Shadhavarth lifts her head and rumbles, though it comes out more like a purr given her current size. "Shadhavarth says she remembers walking here lucidly. Guess I was too busy marveling at her to pay attention to what happened after impression."

V'ric shakes his head again, lips curving in a slow smile. "Everything looks…brighter than it should. I don't… I think it's from Loxiath, but it's just weird." A soft, melodious croon comes then, as Loxiath unlids his eyes and starts to roll upright again. A gentle thrum comes, wings reaching out for a stretch before they fold neatly along his back.

"That sounds about right," Iris agrees. "I've had this music in my mind ever since it happened, and this scent I can't quite place." She smiles dreamily, looking down as Shadhavarth, not to be out-done by Loxiath, twists over onto her back, wings flexed out to her sides, limbs and neck stretching as far as her little body allows.

V'ric nods slowly, smiling. "Yeah.. I think I smell..spices. Sort of.. It's there and yet not." He reaches, fingers trailing in an affectionate stroke down Loxiath's neck. The dragon simply basks in the attention..and the perfect bit of sunlight that comes streaking through the windows. Oh yes, he's found /the spot/. "I keep hearing music too. It's strange. Not in a bad way..I guess."

Shadhavarth realizes Loxiath has found /that spot/ of sunlight, and she is swiftly on her feet and stalking towards him. « Share. » she demands on her way over. Sun worship is right up her alley, you know. Iris just stares after her, not that there is very far to stare given the proximity. "Um." She's not used to being the one to telling someone to not be rude.

Loxiath tilts his head just slightly, one melodious tune drifting from his throat. His wings spread a bit to catch more of the light however, and he doesn't at all move from his spot in the sun. « The light bathes all in it's glorious caresses, if one finds the correct avenue to its source. Each portal provides a touch of blissful decadence." There are, indeed, multiple windows in the barracks. But the brown doesn't seem inclined at all to move /over/ and out of his spot, despite how sweetly his baritone voice coos at his golden sister. V'ric just shakes his head a bit, glancing at Iris with a shrug. "This is going to take some getting used to.."

Loxiath tilts his head just slightly, one melodious tune drifting from his throat. His wings spread a bit to catch more of the light however, and he doesn't at all move from his spot in the sun. « The light bathes all in it's glorious caresses, if one finds the correct avenue to its source. Each portal provides a touch of blissful decadence." There are, indeed, multiple windows in the barracks. But the brown doesn't seem inclined at all to move /over/ and out of his spot, despite how sweetly his baritone voice coos at his golden sister. V'ric just shakes his head a bit, glancing at Iris with a shrug. "This is going to take some getting used to.."

There is simply..surprise from the young brown, a bit unbalanced by the sudden shoving. Claws grab at the ground, wings giving a brief flail into the air before he's able to establish proper balance again. Loxiath is a shimmering light of thought though, surprisingly not offended by the behavior. « What manners, she has! Such the lady, such the idol.» He gets up at least, turning and curling up a bit further back in the light.

Ila'den is, like the others, seeing to the needs of his new lifemate. The bronze looks to be thoroughly enjoying his meat, and considerably disinterested in the doings of his clutch-sibs. Sunlight? He could do without it. He could do without everybody, really. "Getting used to, Velrich?… V'ric, even." he chimes in suddenly, from amid a pregnant silence. "That's the understatement of the century…" The gold is looked after however, as Ila'den offers, "She's gorgeous," to Iris.

The 'lady' in question may be pleased as punch, but she maintains an air of dignity as she stretches herself out to enjoy more of the sun as Loxiath makes way for her. She croons sweetly at her clutchbrother, though, a purring, musical sound. « So valiant of you to share your sunshine. » Iris shakes her head apologetically at V'ric while she continues to stare at the gold. As Ila'den joins the conversation, she looks over, grinning. "Isn't she just exquisite? Yours is rather a looker, himself."

Th'ero is off in his own little corner, or section of the barracks as it were, lost in thought and completely distracted. In fact, Velokraeth has to snap him back to attention by shoving him as roughly as he can with a blunt muzzle, followed by a sharp snort. The bronze's overly large head then cants to the side, jaw dropping down in another draconic-like grin. Laying as the bronze is, his flawed form is still plain to see though that doesn't seem to be either his or Th'ero's concern. Giving his lifemate a bemused look and a murmured apology, Th'ero reaches for another piece of meat from the bowl at his side and promptly goes back to feeding an ever-patient Velokraeth. It's while the bronze is chewing that Th'ero remembers he's not alone and glances up to spot the others nearby. His mouth opens to form some sort of greeting, but no sound comes and the weyrling ends up just looking perplexed and probably feeling quite awkward.

"Not quite, though I suppose I don't have much choice." V'ric is now…V'ric for good. He shakes his head a bit though, amusement just barely tinged on his expression before he finally gets up off the floor. He goes to sit on the cot that's now his, one specifically chosen by Loxiath once they arrived. And indeed, the young brown gets up to follow, climbing halfway onto the bed as well. Hey, he's still small enough to do that! For now, at least. And yes, there's plenty of sunlight here as well. This place was /chosen/! His small temple unto himself. V'ric does look around though, staring a bit at the other newly made weyrlings before his gaze lands on Kilarden. "Guess we're sticking around here after all."

If Teimyrth has heard the compliments paid him, he doesn't even show an inkling of acknowledgement. He finishes his piece of meat, staring at his lifemate expectantly for another. Ila'den, however, is decidedly distracted by the going-ons around him. He's not the /only/ one adjusting to having a constant, nagging presence in his mind, and he's keen to see how the others are adjusting as well. "Thank you, Idr—/Iris/. From both of us." Pause. "/Really/." It's then that he spots Th'ero, huddled away with his own bronze and looking at just as much of a loss as Ila feels he's in. "Congratulations," he says suddenly, as if to break the ice. "I think I may have forgotten to tell you that back on the sands, distracted as I was by all the dragons running around." He's just about to respond to V'ric when he's dropping his head into his hands, catching hair betwixt fingers to tug before he lets out a shuddering breath and stares at his lifemate. « I want more, Ila. Why are you making me ask? » "I don't know if I like that voice of yours or not yet," he tells the dragon, clearly reeling. He's even shaking when he grabs another piece of meat to deliver to his needy 'mate. That's when grey eyes seek out the renegade turned 'rider with him, shaking his head. "I guess we are, aren't we? I'd be a liar if I said that I'd seen it coming." « You are mine, Ila. » More visible pain, but none that he responds to vocally.

With Loxiath moving completely out of /the spot/, Shadhavarth stretches out even more, if that were possible. She might just melt into the floor. Not before demanding more food. Iris obediantly collects another piece of meat from her bucket and delivers it to a golden muzzle which, after taking and swallowing, promptly lays back flat on the floor. Iris wanders back to her cot, gaze flicking between the miniature queen and the other weyrlings. She smiles warmly at V'ric and Ila'den. "You know, you might find it quite the perfect place to be… and you'll have your own weyr someday, so Kiltara could always have a room of her own, with you." Her gaze moves away from V'ric and Ila'den, passing over R'oy with a twist of her lips and settling on Th'ero. "You feeling all right over there?"

It isn't Th'ero who reacts first to the belated congratulations, it's Velokraeth. The bronze, having swallowed his last piece of food, turns his head to regard the other weyrling with his odd eyes and no doubt Teimyrth is given a searching look as well. Interest wanes quickly though for baser instincts and soon the bronze is "politely" bringing Th'ero back to task. Shaking his head a little, he obliges and then grimaces as he wipes his fingers clean on a cloth. "Thanks…" Th'ero begins in response, only to fumble on Ila'den's name. To embarrassed to acknowledge that failure, he recovers by continuing. "…It was pretty chaotic. I'm sure I missed congratulating you as well." To Idris, he only smiles faintly and gives a slight nod of his head. "Feeling overwhelmed to be honest. But I'll manage." There's a curious tilt of his head as he no doubt glances over to where the young gold has stretched out. "Belated congratulations to you too."

V'ric stares just a bit at Ila'den's obvious pain, brows furrowing. Is that concern? It's very possible that it is, and Loxiath's head swivels slowly to look as well. A gentle melody of croons is given toward the man who is his own rider's friend, soft and comforting. «The poor boy. Look at his face, so scrunched and spoiled with torment. Such a pity.» He moves off then, moving to curl into his stone depression tiredly. Food? It is done with for the time being. V'ric does look over at Iris for a moment then, nodding. "I haven't said I don't like it here.. It's just a bit of a..surprise." He stands then, heading across the barracks. Why? There are /things/ over there that he needs to look at! Like meat. And..things.

Ila'den dips his head down to Iris' words, a physical sign of the agreement he voices in regards to Kiltara. "Yeah. Only now I have more than one somebody to look after." He says it with an edge, but the smile he gives Teimyrth after would do well to take away the sting and suggest the jab is playful—and affectionate. How could one not be completely enamored with their own lifemate, especially after that first initial moment of contact; that first initial moment of bonding? Ila suspects he may be left feeling completely empty without Tei beside him. Was there even an Ila'den /before/ there was a Teimyrth? He's having a hard time remembering. Velokraeth's 'polite' gaze is regarded and returned by Teimyrth, though even the slight pass of attention is quickly gone as he's returning to his feeding. When Loxiath's intervening however, there's a very soft, low rumbling /growl/ coming from Tei. You have invaded his space! /HIS/ space! Ila is quick to pass soothing fingers over the muzzle of his dragon, easing the bronze back into silence as he throws a helpless look from Iris, and then to Th'ero. "Why doesn't yours do anything like that?" /Might/ have something to do with civility. /Maybe/.

While Iris smiles winningly at Th'ero's congratulations, Shadhavarth is disturbed from her sun worship, sensing the tension rising between her clutchsiblings. Unwilling to completely disrupt her leisurely sprawl, she raises her neck, stretching it so she can eyeball the boys warily. Though as long as they leave her be in this particular spot, she will not bother herself further. Pity the spot is kind of in the middle of the floor, and that the sunlight is, as it always does, slowly moving. Iris delivers another piece of food, distracting the gold, who lays her head back down after swallowing. « No more. I am done. » Iris just goes back to her cot, wiping her hands off on a towel she lays over the bucket's edge. She'll want more in another few minutes, there's not been a real end to her hunger yet. Iris chuckles a little at Ila'den. "Like what-growling?"

"Doesn't do anything like what?" Th'ero asks, giving Ila'den a puzzled look. He's no doubt witnessed some of the interaction of the younger dragons, though he's pointedly ignoring a certain young lad. Apparently Velokraeth is finished with eating for now, because the next chunk of meat offered is only eyed by the bronze before being rebuffed and rejected. Hunger can now be replaced by curiosity and so the young bronze begins the awkward task of getting his stunted limbs to work well enough for him to turn in his stone bed so that he can face his clutch siblings. He doesn't get up to join them, however. There will be no stretching out or wandering. Th'ero moves to sit on the edge of his cot and find someplace to dispose of the bowl he had been using. In the end, he seems to weary to care and simply shoves the bowl aside for now.

"Growling, for one. I don't see either of you clutching your heads in pain, either." Which would lead Ila'den to believe that neither of /them/ are experiencing the intense pain that scrapes and claws at his mind, leaving his entire body tingling—though admittedly less and less. While Shadhavarth and Volkaerth have finished for now and both seem taken with being curious, Teimyrth continues to show a distinct disinterest for either of his clutch-sibs, preferring to rip through his current piece of meat instead. What? He's a growing dragon! Growing dragons need to eat! "Every time Teimyrth speaks to me, it's like he's digging out my eyes and crushing my head. Neither of you are experiencing anything like that?"

"No… I only hear music. Flutes. I smell the woods. It's beautiful…" Iris trails off, closing her eyes as she listens to the voice of Shadhavarth, who obliges her. A few moments later, brown eyes reopen and with a dreamy expression, Iris smiles at Ila'den. "Not painful at all. Strange, to be sure." Shadhavarth, listening intently from her sunspot, ponders heartlessly at her clutchsibling. « Perhaps you chose wrongly if you injure him with your voice. It took you long enough to pick someone, after all. »

Th'ero's lips curve into something that's part smirk, part grimace. "I'm sure Velokraeth could growl if he wanted to." he points out, though he does give Ila'den a bit of a sympathetic look. "No. But I am reminded of wine." In fact, Th'ero almost looks wistful for a moment there, as if he's wishing he could have an entire skin of fine wine with him right now. Whatever his thoughts are, the young bronze approves, as there's a low rumble from him and his clutch siblings are ignored now in favour of his own rider. Th'ero leans over and gently rubs his fingers along the malformed head knobs, distracted for a moment at some inner monologue passed silently between him and his other half. He then side-glances to Iris, smiling lightly. "Sounds…pleasant." But then his attention slides back to Ila'den. "Maybe it'll settle?" he tries to offer as reassurance.

« Perhaps it is you who chose wrongly, » Teimyrth obliges, though with his touch comes the harshness of winder, but the wondrous smell of pine and snow, the engaging smell of smoke that promises warmth in all of that haze, « if you think that a choice in lifemates can be mistaken. » Tact? Respect? What is that? He goes right back to his food, however, as if unperturbed by the interruption on his feast. Just a conversation, it would seem! No disrespect intended! Ila'den is looking apologetically at Iris though, shrugging his shoulders as if to silently say that he doesn't know how, exactly, to control the bronze. "It's less and less painful every time," he offers Th'ero, after listening to his own experiences with the mind-touches. "I smell pine, and cold, and fire too. It's nice, and soothing, but the initial touch is always… So painful. Less and less, I think, but still painful."

Shadhavarth snorts at Teimyrth though maintains her poise and her stretched pose on the sunlit bit of floor. « /I/ would not chose wrongly. I had my choice of the girls. You, however, were slow to hatch and slow to impress and had fewer options. » And though she may be unmoving physically, her melodious voice becomes tinged with the scent of a desert wasteland, disdain dripping through her words. Iris returns Ila'den's gaze, wincing as she listens to Shadhavarth's side of the conversation. "That's enough, please. I know /I'm/ glad Ila'den is with us." The dragonet sniffs daintily and closes whirling eyes, rolling sideways to move with the sunlight.

"Well, it's fading a little at least?" Th'ero offers as reassurance, not quite sure what else to give, though he does give the other weyrling a curious look. Velokraeth is oblivious to the current spat going on between his fellow bronze and gold clutch siblings, his mismatched gaze seeming entirely focused on Th'ero. There is a rustle of his wings though, the only thing not flawed on him and suddenly the weyrling is raising a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Blinking his eyes a few times, he glances over to Idris, frowning slightly. "Why wouldn't we be glad?" he asks, sounding curious and confused all at once.

« I knew when I hatched who I wanted. If I had wanted any of the others that were already taken, I would have ripped out the throat of whoever had him. » Teimyrth gnashes his teeth at his golden sibling, emphasizing his point. It's Ila'den's touch on his head that stills his mind, has him withdrawing from the fight as his lifemate shakes his head. "I agree with Iris, Teimyrth. Shadhavarth means no harm, and I'm glad they're /both/ here." He's looking slightly pale, however, as if the thought of consoling a dragon who glees in threatening to rip out throats is not quite something he imagined. The bronze rumbles, a cooing sound, and focuses on his food instead. It would seem that his Ila's words will be heeded. Th'ero has his attention then, however, grey eyes lingering on that look of confusion before he tosses his head back and allows a rich chorus of laughter. "Indeed, Iris. /Why/ is that?" Does she know something more than what he's shared thanks to the powers or dragons? He's genuinely curious!

Shadhavarth dismisses Teimyrth's threat with a flick of her tail and another leisurely roll to a new position in the middle of the floor, just that little bit closer to he and Ila'den. "Strong personalities, I guess?" Iris offers to Th'ero, shrugging at the former guard before her gaze returns to Ila'den and she flushes at his laughter. "Um. Because you're nice?" Lame answer, score one for Iris.

"A little too strong," Ila'den concedes, laughing. Teimyrth seems to have had more than enough of his fill by then, leaving what remains of the last piece of meat he was working on untouched. Ila picks it up to deposit back into their given buckets, covering it with cloth as he turns a smile onto Th'ero. "I think it is. It's nothing substantial, but I'm pretty sure that it's there." Still, the other bronzer seems to be… Well, doing something more engrossing than the topic at hand, and so he turns his grey eyes Iris. You have his… Partially-Full attention! Really! It's as full of any other object as one can be when there is a dragon poking about in your mind, rifling through your thoughts like so much distraction. "Do you think they'll ever get along?" he inquires. Teimyrth is watching his lifemate, but seems to care not for turning his gaze onto Iris or his golden sister.

Shadhavarth has moved on and is content to soak up the afternoon's sunlight. One eye is half-open, whirling slowly beneath the lid, keeping an eye on Iris, who is gazes back for several long moments, the urge to match the gold and stretch out on her cot so strong she follows it, laying back and flinging her arms up to support her head. As Ila'den speaks up, she tilts her head to face him, brown eyes meeting his. "Perhaps as they age? Shadhavarth doesn't have a high opinion of him right now… but I'm sure he chose right, whatever she says. I mean it, you're obviously dragonrider material with your, um, kindness and all."

Ila'den's smiling at Iris, a look that might just suggest he somehow /needed/ the confirmation of his own worthiness from somebody other than his own dragon. "I don't think there's much room for mistakes in these matters," he offers, softly. It's the wisdom borne of having to grow up a little too fast, probably, but there's some kind of vulnerability that's come to light in the face of having found himself bonded to a lifemate. Teimyrth seems to sense the discomfort, pushing into his rider and staring up at him, waiting. He presses his hand over that waiting muzzle, and then laughs. "I hope so. I don't think Teimyrth really thinks much of anybody aside from me right now, but I get the feeling things will change." He rises, stretching out long limbs before picking up his bucket of baby-dragon food and moving toward his own cot. He settles on it, rolling onto his back with his arms tucked beneath his head and his feet locked at the ankles. Tei will find his own bed to curl in, lowering his head as he allows the promise of sleep to sweep him far, far away from reality. "I think I'm going to call it a day, Iris. Maybe sleeping on it will help make sense of everything that's happened." He's tired, and can you blame him? There's a sparing smile for the woman, kind, affectionate, and gone as he rolls onto his side with his back to her. Tei may already be out, but it takes Ila considerably longer to drift away with his 'mate.

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