The Wall, Part II

Western 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 manuvers required for the rescue and protection work that Western 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.

It's early evening and the sun is still high enough that the training field is at least lit enough for a bit of a class. Lissi is out there with Damasth and the pair are faced off and look to be playing a little, the green nosing at her lifemate while the rider dodges. The wall looms as do the pile of sandbags that are stacked up about twenty yards away this time, yeah, she's heartless!

Velokraeth is the first to arrive out on the training fields, though Th'ero is trailing close behind him, muttering something about the bronze's timing for meals. The young bronze slows his waddling gait to tilt his head curiously towards where Damasth and Lissi seem to be playing. That earns a bit of a snort from him, though he seems curious enough to not look away. Th'ero on the other hand, is staring at the sandbags and the wall. Sadly, he thinks the distance means something entirely different. "So, what are we doing tonight?" he asks, maybe sounding hopeful as he directs the question to Lissi. "Something different?" Yep, he's hopeful, but still trying to mask it as he glances towards the Weyrlingmaster, trying to hold a neutral enough expression.

Unfortunately, S'rorn can't maintain a neutral expression if his life depended on it. Not when he's urgently trying to discourage his lifemate from wanting to do his version of fun with the bags. When there's images of airborne objects, it can't be good. "You touch them without the Weyrlingmaster's instruction, you're going to pick them up and put them back exactly as they are now." HISS. Nyzieroth huffs, nudging his chump lifemate and lazily staggers over beside his fellow clutchmate where he lets his body settle down on the ground with a solid thump.

Lissi grins some at Th'ero and then S'rorn is joining and she pats Damasth on the nose and heads over toward the weyrlings and their mates. The green follows the WLM and the pair pause near the bags, "Well, not really different but with some different rules.." She nods to the bags, "Same patterns as bafore.. same requirements of followin' it.. but this time, ya gotta get a bag loaded on tha dragonette, mount up, ride ta the end, dismount, place it, ride back." She smiles, yes, smiles. Evil. "And, this time ya'll be timed.."

"Still getting into everything?" Th'ero muses to S'rorn, no doubt overhearing some of the other weyrling's conversation, or enough to assume. But then Th'ero is staring at Lissi with an incredulous look, Velokraeth is swinging his oversized head back to focus his mismatched eyes on Nyzieroth as he thumps down beside him. There's a low rumble from the bronze, friendly enough, though mildly inquisitive. What's got him all huffy? "Timed?" Th'ero echoes back, frowning. There's a quick glance given back to the barracks, though he does seem interested in the fact they'll be mounted. "So… do we need our straps?" he asks.

S'rorn keeps a mild and emotionless expression, doing his best to keep his thoughts to himself so the brown is kept in the dark for a moment. The bags, the task, what it's going to take to complete it. His lifemate has done his own thing for the most part of weyrlinghood. Perhaps he's looking at their teamwork at the wrong angle. A crooked smile forms on his face for a moment and he clears his throat, turning to Nyzieroth. "Looks like I'm on my own with this one. Nyzieroth is still a baby. He can't handle it." Saywhut? The brown jerks his head up, swinging it to his weyrling and rumbles. "I don't want him to break a talon, would be a pity. Looks like the glory is all mine." Nyzieroth rises, lumbering over to S'rorn quickly, nudging him. Who you callin a loser, chump?! Its on! S'rorn laughs and crosses his arms, waiting for instructions.

Lissi grins, "Aye, ya'll need straps.. and aye, timed.. jes ta see where ya get ta by the time we run this tha last time.." she says, watching and listening as the weyrlings deal with their dragons and cajole them into getting their work done. "This will help them get used feeling you and moving with you on some muscle.. and well..there might be some sorta prize fer postin tha best time between now and graduation.." she says then gestures toward a board for such posts.

Th'ero knows better then to withhold from Velokraeth, less he earns another scathing reprimand from the bronze and perhaps one loud enough for everyone to enjoy. So for once, Th'ero isn't withdrawn or putting up his usual masks. Or if he tries, it's obvious. There's a slight quirk of his mouth in a half-smile when he watches Nyzieroth's reaction to S'rorn's taunts. There's simply a good stretch from Velokraeth and those mismatched eyes focus almost lazily on Th'ero. Well? Are they going to just sit and watch the sunset or get this grueling task over with? Th'ero sighs, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath before moving off to collect the needed straps. He's quicker to get Velokraeth setup, though the weyrling is soon faltering again, despite the bronze's impatient chuffs and a well-placed nudge. "Ow, just hold on, will you?" Th'ero almost hisses back at him, before turning his gaze to Lissi again. "So… are we all going at once like the last time? Or being timed individually?" Questions, questions! Seems some habits don't change.

While Nyzieroth puffs himself up and unfurls his wings to look bigger for Velokraeth, S'rorn is rubbing his face before glancing over to Th'ero rather sheepishly. "Well, he's still getting into everything he's not supposed to but hopefully things will be different this time." One can only hope. He gathers up the straps and the taunting continues quietly within his head, Nyzieroth puffing up and lowering his head, wings vibrating with the urge to make the bronze look like a total weakling. The weyrling quickly adjusts the straps, buckling them and then checking behind for pinches or tight spots while glancing back and forth between the brown and the Weyrlingmaster. "Show with actions, not with words. The instructions were simple, let's just do it and get it over with and we're going to do it correctly. Without cheating." Deadpan. Nyzieroth slowly raises himself when the last buckle is fastened and he turns his nose to S'rorn. "Yes, NO cheating."

Lissi is patient with the weyrlings, it's not like this is 'fun' training. It's work. And, it's probably seemingly pointless as far as a visible accomplishment. She does wrinkle her nose, "Oh sorry, I wasna clear.. there's plenty of bags fer each of ya ta work on yer own pattern.. they are a little smaller fer individuals." She smiles and then steps back, "Get started, aye," she agrees, then nods to a couple of teenagers, "They'll be doin tha timin..pick one an' go as soon as yer ready."

"Want to trade quirks? I'll take that over endless questions." Th'ero muses with a bit of a smirk towards S'rorn. Velokraeth gives an amused snort when Nyzieroth puffs himself up, but doesn't rise to the bait - or so it seems. Instead, he simply acts intimidated, though it's sarcastic in its nature and most likely bordering on insulting. Even so, the smaller bronze lowers his head and keeps his wings clamped close to his sides, though his whirling gaze is fixed on his brown clutch sibling in a look that is still defiant. Oh sure, pick on the weakling bronze, why don't you? Th'ero gives a nod towards Lissi when the go-ahead is given and promptly rechecks the straps and buckles before giving Velokraeth a good thump on the neck to snap the bronze back to reality. "Now who's distracted?" he teases mildly, before carefully mounting up. There's a moment where Th'ero seems awkward, though eventually he's chuckling. "Feels weird." He mutters, but he's grinning at least. But that grin fades back to a frown soon enough when the sandbags are spotted. Fun is over for now, now the work begins. It's not long before Velokraeth begins to waddle off, seeming confident enough to reach a stack of bags without incident. Only when the first bag is to be secured do they fumble for a moment, before figuring out some tactic that works.

"I'll take the endless questions before the constant need to destroy objects, upend clothing while people are sleeping to hang them on trees, creating a mud bath and then dragging you in it a couple times, digging holes for no reason…" Nyzieroth is too simple to notice the sarcasm, instead the brown is strutting and puffing his dominance over this lowly chump. He'll school this bronze on how it is to be a real dragon! Then Velokraeth can lick his talons when it's all over. And surrender his weyrling's underwear as a trophy! "I don't want those!" S'rorn snaps to his brown who doesn't seem to lose his own rampant train of thought while his weyrling mounts and tightens those straps so he doesn't thrown in a fit of draconic joy. "Now, the bags, remember to take it EASY NYZ!" S'rorn has a death grip on those straps while the brown is following after Velokraeth with his own clumsy lumbering steps, warbling the whole time like a baby to the bronze mockingly.

Lissi grins and nods her head as the riders mount up and start the exercise, "Good.. yes.. it's kinda weird at first for them too.. you have to learn how to balance and so do they," she says as she leans back against her green. "I'm gonna leave ya to it.. tha kids will report tha times ta me later and we'll post up tha results.. you can go again any time sa long as there's a day in between tries, dun wanna strain their muscles or yers.." With that she's heading toward the barracks.

"On second thought… after all that you just listed? I'll keep the questions." Th'ero admits, grimacing a little though he almost gives S'rorn a sympathetic look. Velokraeth continues to play his part as being the submissive one, letting Nyzieroth strut and puff and believe that he has him meekly following. There's a quick half-salute, half-wave given to Lissi when she parts with some last bits of advice, but Th'ero seems to be keeping his own death-grip as well, despite trying to look relaxed. With the first bag secured, he seems more focused on them getting the task done and not fall off in the process. So it's by his concentration on trying to sit Velokraeth's awkward gait and negotiate an awkward bag of sand that he doesn't clue in to his bronze's mood change and by the time he does, it's far too late. Nyzieroth's mocking warbles irk Velokraeth rather then keep him meek and promptly stops in his tracks to turn on his clutch sibling. The sudden stop and swing to the side almost sends Th'ero toppling over, Velokraeth's hissing masking the weyrling's alarmed cursing as he straightens himself. The bronze has had enough of the taunts and is no doubt throwing back a few of his own to the brown, seeming to sneer as much as a dragon can. There will be no talon licking or underwear trophies, it would seem, as the young bronze does draw a line somewhere.

As soon as they reach the bags, S'rorn quickly undoes his straps and slides down his lifemates side and surprisingly enough, Nyz lowers himself down to allow this safely. The weyrling grabs a bag, ties it to a smaller tether on the straps and he's quickly climbing up, fastening his belt before giving the brown a rough pat. "Take it easy, don't rush!" His words are a wasted effort because Nyzieroth isn't done schooling this bronze on how to do things the way the ladies eat up! He slows down just a bit, taking a big breath before puffing up and letting out a challenging bellow that ultimately ends with a squeak! He huffs, "Sure you did, Nyz. Sure. Just finish the exercize, please." S'rorn lowers his head and lays down low against his lifemate, slowly tilting his body to the left and to the right to counter-balance even the slightest to help his lifemate get used to his weight. Whether or not it's working is lost to the constant running commentary running through his head.

Now that Th'ero isn't in danger of falling (if he ever was), the weyrling wastes no time in muttering lecture-like to the bronze. "Shards, Velokraeth, calm down. Just focus. Sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave." And judging by Th'ero's expression, the weyrling already wants to escape. The stunted bronze seems reluctant, but eventually gives in, though not before unfurling his wings in an "innocent" stretch and giving a low rumble that seems to be the equivalent of a laugh to the squeak-ending bellow. That's it? "Sorry." Th'ero calls out to S'rorn, smirking as he shrugs his shoulders a little. "Should have realized… got distracted." He says by way of explanation. As much as the bronze is itching to take on Nyzieroth's challenge, Th'ero wins the silent battle and Velokraeth turns away to restart the same pattern of grabbing a new bag of sand, then securing it and moving off to stack it by the wall. It's not long before Th'ero begins to adjust to Velokraeth's movements, relaxing enough to sit more comfortably and secure, though he's no doubt keeping a mental check on his bronze's moods.

S'rorn is doing better finding his rhythm in the madness than his lifemate is, who keeps moving and shifting with his long rendition of 'lalala' going on through his weyrling's head. The weyrling sighs, letting shoulders sag as soon as Nyz rises and begins to stalk over behind the bronze. He's catching up to that tail, just a little bit closer til he ca-"A dragon a day out of his shell would think of that!" Hrmph! No time for messing with tails and there's no telling where these dragons like to do their business. Hidden somewhere to be found like Teimyrth or right up against a tree like this weasly brown. One more bag after another is brought to it's resting place between the pair, one dragonlength and dragonjeer at a time.

Velokraeth doesn't notice Nyzieroth stalking him or what may have happened to his tail. Which may be a good thing, truth be told. Th'ero does sort of overhear S'rorn though and the weyrling turns a little in the straps to give the other weyrling a long look. But then there's a grumble from the bronze and a sack goes tumbling out of place. Th'ero frowns a little; leaning forwards enough to peer down at something and then just as quick, he's upright again and dismounting. "That's enough for today." Velokraeth begins to rumble a protest, swiveling his head towards the last remaining bags still waiting to be stacked. "No! I'm not risking it. We've done enough." Th'ero wins again, because the bronze gives in, but not without a heavy sigh and obvious reluctance. But he does begin to waddle away, though the gait seems odd. Tired? Perhaps. Th'ero doesn't seem overly concerned, though he's eager enough to be away from the fields. "It's all yours!" he says, with a bit of a lopsided smirk to S'rorn, before giving the other weyrling a half-wave as well. "Have fun." He adds in sarcastically, chuckling a little as he turns to follow Velokraeth back into the barracks.

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