Good Intentions, Bad Results

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Corrals
Enclosed by a wooden fence on one side and the steep walls of the weyr on the other is a couple acres of grass that holds the Weyr's herdbeasts and wherry flock. While this dragon feeding area is smaller than most of the Weyrs on Pern, there is still enough room for a large dragon to swoop down and grab his dinner with relative ease.

It's been nearly ten months since the eggs rocked and weyrlings were born on the hot sands of the hatching grounds at Half Moon Bay, and since then not a single one of them has seen hide nor hair of Archipelago Wingleader J'en. Well, not since he slipped into the barracks immediately after all dragonets had Impressed and whispered something to Assistant Weyrlingmaster R'hyn. Today though, with Rukbat high in the sky and the midday meal still digesting in his stomach, the grumpy young bronzerider can be found with his arms folded one over the other along the top most rail of the corrals. A long blank look is focused forward on Leketh, who was a ways off and simply devouring some poor herdbeast he'd recently killed, making up for the time he'd lost while there was a storm battering the weyr. With it passed, there was clean up and people taking stock of the damage, but with calm clear skies to light the way. The hurricane took all the mugginess with it, allowing Jae to strip off his flight jacket and lay it over the fence beside him, leaving him in only a dull gray tank top, riding pants and his boots.

With a break in training and a hungry dragon to boot, Catwin has ventured out with Fascath to allow the growing blue a chance to hunt as well as to stretch his wings a little. A wherry is watched and then dispatched with only a minimum of fuss. By the time Cat catches up she notices J'en leaning on the fence. She pauses a moment as she just watches him silently for a moment and then she steps forward as Fascath enjoys his meal, feathers floating around him. "Good afternoon, J'en." she says simply as she steps up to the fence. Gone are the skirts of old and now she's in a pair of serviceable pants that have been hemmed short and fitted to her boots and the waist gathered with a belt. There is also no more tunic and instead she's wearing a plain off white long sleeved shirt with the cuffs buttoned close about her wrists. "Some storm, wasn't it?"

An unfamiliar blue is not that rare of a sight, golden eyes sliding his way but not really seeing him right away, however it was the youth of him that brings J'en to blink and focus. Immediately he stands, every muscle visibly tense, turning and looking not so much at Catwin as around her and the surrounding area. When he sees or maybe doesn't see what he is looking for, he relaxes again, in part. A soft breath exhaled before the blueling finally seems to earn his attention; a brief visual sweep of the woman is made, but his gaze doesn't linger on her longer than that. There is no returned niceties, receiving a snort which can probably be attributed to his disagreement on the goodness of the afternoon, before he slumps back onto the fence and returns to watching Leketh gorge himself. "I guess." comes his grumbled and fleeting reply, the fingers of his left hand drifting briefly over the embossed teeth marks on the back of his neck.

Catwin watches the way he looks and searches and the look of relief has her frowning a moment, still it's not her place to really say anything. Though as she watches his hand on his neck she lets out a sigh. Maybe it's not her place, but can she really stay silent? "He misses you." she murmurs quietly. Barely a whisper, certainly not enough to carry far. She watches Fascath as he eats, she may not have said anything for all the attention that she is paying J'en. As for niceties? He answered. Nicety enough in her book.

Already tense shoulders, become more so at Catwin's soft murmur, likely only caught because he was starkly aware of her now and likely focusing on every sound coming from her direction. A narrowed and warning sort of glance is tossed the weyrling's direction before he's back to looking forward, a glare now heatedly sent across the feeding grounds, "Who'd that be?" A growl annunciates every syllable, but he wasn't snapping at her or being particularly very loud about it. In the scheme of things, it was altogether on the quiet side, as if he were trying to prevent anyone else who may happen by from overhearing their conversation. Leketh was already finishing up, moving his own attention off to the herd milling about in the background, ignoring the firelizards that pop up the second he turns away from what is left of his meal to descend upon the leavings ravenously. Fascath gets a low rumbled greeting though as he's noted at last, but lets the young one otherwise ea in peace.

At the question Catwin just shoots J'en a look as if to say Seriously? She lets out a breath. She seems to deliberate on her answer for a but and when she does say something, she doesn't answer directly. In fact she seems to just goes on about something that might seem almost unrelated "Barracks life is interesting, hard to stay sleep sometimes when you sleep lightly as is. What with others moving around." she notes. "Nightmares or just not sleeping I would suppose." Fasath looks up from a bone he's licking the innards out of and there's a rumbled response in return, a slight overlay of misty moors, heather dotting the background.

The bronzerider is unable to catch the look that is tossed at him incredulously, which is for the best really, considering how tightly wound he seemed to be. There was effort there, visibly, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and pointedly does not shift his eyes off the backside of his lifemate. Though he seemed to be with him as the bronze stalks a wherry this time, inhaling sharply as talons slice at first into the earth and then the creature itself with a gargled and strangled cry. Then silence and J'en exhales, taking a moment to steady his breathing before rolling his shoulders backwards. "Whadda ya tryin' to say?" Yer being all elusive is startin' to piss meh off, Catwin." he tells the empty air before him, set on watching Leketh devour his latest victim. Of course he knew her name, they'd met long before she was a candidate, and had more than a few drunken conversations about nothing and everything. Though those days were likely a haze for the both of them.

Fascath is content with is wherry and gleaning most everything off the bones, though he doesn't seem to mind some of the firelizards at are scavenging amongst the feathers. There's a brief glance to the dying and dead wherry and then hers eyes are back on J'en "Fine, you want it straight? I'll give it to you straight." A pause "Well as straight as I can give it to you. I don't how much is worry, or if it's just because he cares so darn much. He's having nightmares, about things he's learned. He's angry about it and shards, he's just plain missing you. Would it kill you to visit?" She purses her lips together and then takes a breath. "I'll risk staying a weyrling forever for saying this or even getting hit. either man up or just put him out of his misery if you don't want anything more to do with him." She shakes her head.

It might have been a companionable silence that had fallen over them as they watched their lifemates feast, except for the fact that J'en was slowly but surely coiling his arms tighter over themselves where they rested on the railing he was leaned against. As she cuts the silence with words building up to something worthy of his attention, golden eyes slide her direction unhurriedly, the very personification of neutrality. Lashes lowering only at mention of nightmares, not a single facial muscle betraying what thoughts he might have as Catwin spills the proverbial beans on things that the bronzerider may or may not already be privy to. No immediate response, just that leveled and even look, as if he was expecting more to come that never does. Drawing in air deeply which may occur relatively unnoticed save for the way his rib cage expands, "Is that all?" he sighs, sounding either bored or disinterested. Back to the open field, back to the rendering of flesh from bone, his gaze goes. Seeming, unaffected by all that implication that just been dumped on his shrugged shoulders. "The only reason 'e knows the shit 'e does is 'cause I wanted 'im to leave meh the fuck alone. I told 'im not to have feelin's for meh, I warned im what would happen if 'e did." The bronzerider's tenor was like smooth ice, cold and decidedly even. There was no longing or worry for the one who had yet to be named, no turbulent and passionate emotion. Just, nothing. "I ain't got no plans to see 'im, now or ever. Ya can tell 'im that if ya like." Where there was once tension, a soft of calm had settled over J'en, making him appear more relaxed as if some sort of decision had been reached just then. "If ya do, make sure to mention 'e ain't gunna like what'll 'appen if 'e shows up in front of meh again."

Catwin stares at J'en "Why you yellow bellied coward." she says incredulously. She's not yelling it or anything. Just sort of saying it softly. "Forgive me for saying you should man up. Obviously, that's not possible." Eyeing J'en she looks him over a little "Maybe it's for the best. I should have known better anyways." She comes smartly to attention and salutes "Forgive my intrusion. I will not bother you anymore. I really shouldn't believe people. There's no good. Just crappy people who treat you like crap. Use you for their own means and just backhand you out of the wagon when they got what they want and leave you to be terrorized by their others." She turns around and just stiffly stalks off, shaking, her hands clinched tight to her sides. Fascath bugles and then he's tearing off across that ground, scaring the flocks and leaping the fence. Cat stops, lays her head on him "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Just. Leave. It." she gets out and then continues with the blue following anxiously.

Softly spoken or no, J'en appears to be completely impervious to both Catwin's stare and the insult that follows, gaze distant and fixated on Leketh even as he lifts his gore smeared head and is suddenly just as focused on him all of a sudden. He does nothing to stop him from abandoning the wherry he'd mostly finished with, because the bronze is up on his paws and soon making his way towards the silent figure of his lifemate. Unmoving, the bronzerider doesn't react to anything else that the weyrling unleashes upon him, merely watching Leketh's tongue lapping away that which clings to his muzzle as he gets closer. Neither the enraged Catwin or upset Fascath keep the bronze from pushing his large wedged head gently up against J'en, who only lowers his forehead down against that warm pale tinted hide once he's certain she was leaving for sure and not just going to wheel around to further berate him. Only when the blue pair have cleared the area and he and Leketh are alone again, does he allow himself to cry.

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