Early Morning Blues (Open)

[Archer]

N’rek peered around Crith’s neck at the Valley below, slumped forward into the warmth of her neck. It was bad enough that he’d managed to get himself picked for the early Watch shift but Crith had forced him out of bed far earlier to do brief scouring and oiling of her hide. She’d claimed that she was dirty, as usual, but N’rek hadn’t found a speck of scaly, dry patches so he had called her out on it. She ignored him, much like she always did when she knew he was right, and had urged him to run in and grab something portable to slake his hunger.

Do you not think that Dagonth is a handsome blue, N’rekmine?

Crith appeared to be absorbed in watching the few people that scurried about but N’rek knew better—his green was especially bright, for all her antics. He stroked her neck absently, thinking back through the sevendays to calculate the months it had been since Crith’s last Flight. When he realized his error, he scowled, annoyed at his mistake.

You’ll be the judge of that, I suppose. Where is C’train? I’m not pulling this watch all by myself! In truth he wasn’t so much angry with the absent Senior Weyrling as he was with his own apparent lack of mathematical strengths; one would think that he would know his dragon’s Flight patterns by now.

I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough. The green rumbled at N’rek’s muttered complaints, turning her head to affix her disgruntled rider with a whirling blue-green eye. What do you think of Rhobith? He is a large, powerful brown.

N’rek frowned, rubbing the back of his neck in a burst of nervous energy. Rhobith is a weyrling still. At Crith’s resounding reply that the brown was almost grown, he amended his statement, hands held up in surrender. Fine, almost grown. In any case he’s still a weyrling.

He made a point of ignoring the rest of her remarks, rummaging through his pocket and extracting a piece of bread, keeping a careful eye on the people entering the Weyr through the tunnel. Thank Faranth that it was spring and the Weyr had pleasant weather most of the time, otherwise pulling watch would surely be twice as mind-dulling. N'rek pulled off a piece of the bread and chewed on it thoughtfully, distracted by the sunrise.

[B'kay]

She's very pretty, don't you think?

Rhobith's sudden lift out of mental silence startled C'train, who was attempting to sip at a mug of klah while astride his hill-and-valley dragon. He was becoming practiced at this, and shifted the mug outward just as the klah, nearly cold anyway, sloshed.

You got me wet again! the brown complained as the luke-warm liquid hit his neck rather than his rider's leg.

Well, if you wouldn't hug the hills and peaks the way you do, and just fly straight, you wouldn't spill my klah all the time! C'train said with a chuckle. And who is very pretty?

As they drifted on the air-pockets only a dragonslength above the steep slope, and the view of the Weyr bowl was before him, however, C'train knew the answer.

There were N'rek and Crith, right ahead of them. So, that's where his shift partner had gone ... an early starter, like C'train.

"Ho, N'rek!" the brownrider shouted, waving his free hand in the other's direction! "We've just taken a quick look at the approach from the coast, all clear there!"

As Rhobith approached Crith, C'train could feel the brown dragon's chest expand and did not miss the fact that he lifted his head just a bit ... to appear more noble, perhaps?

The little Beastmaster grinned, Are you showing off, my One?
The reason for Rhobith's mood did not escape the rider, and he tried not to think of the ramifications. He knew that greens would rise, and Rhobith would chase, and not all of their riders were female. The thought didn't bother C'train as much as he thought it would -- he'd adjusted to Weyr life more quickly than expected. Patting Rhobith on his rich, brown neck C'train resigned himself to whatever would be, for it was the health and satisfaction of his dragon that mattered more than anything.

Me? the brown responded, raising his head higher still, so the morning sun could catch the amber-gold streaks in his rich-brown hide and set them aflame, Why would I have need to show off?

[Archer]

N’rek nearly choked on his bread, waving a hand at C’train even as he doubled over with coughing. He could feel Crith’s anxiety, though she didn’t speak, and when he finally managed to stop coughing N’rek patted her neck, more to soothe her than anything. You are fine now, yes? Why did you not bring klah?

You ran me out of the Lower Caverns, remember? N’rek shot her a glare before cupping a hand around his mouth and hollering to C’train, “The jungle is quiet as well. Looks like we’ll have a relatively uneventful shift!”

Rhobith, good— Crith stopped mid-sentence, fanning her wings as she stared down over the edge. After a moment she turned her head, the reddish-yellow coloring in her multifaceted eyes startling her rider. There is trouble below. Yelling. N’rek frowned and pulled the riding goggles up into place. Inform Rhobith and C’train that we’re needed below.

Crith turned her gaze to the brown, tail lashing in irritation. We are needed below. There is trouble. N’rek had just enough time to shove the bread into a pocket and grab hold of the riding straps before she sprung into the air.

As they drew closer, N’rek used the time to further assess the situation. One of the Weyr’s Journeyman Beastcrafters was arguing rather heatedly with someone N’rek didn’t recognize—a Holder of some sort, he deduced. Crith landed gracefully, folding her wings back as N’rek dismounted and clambered down.

“What is going on here?” He looked from one to the other and back, waiting for some sort of explanation. “You’ll wake the entire Weyr with your yelling.”

The Journeyman Beastcrafter spoke first, face flushed. “He won’t give the Weyr the full tithes—only a paltry fourth of the healthy herdbeasts he has brought.”

“I have to keep my family’s Hold running. If I give the full tithe I won’t have any herdbeasts left.” The Holder gestured at his animals and crossed his arms across his chest.

N’rek turned and surveyed the herdbeasts, though he didn’t say a word. Truth was he didn’t know the first thing about beasts of any kind—he’d been a Journeyman Healer prior to his Impression to Crith. So unless somebody was bleeding, he was pretty much useless in this situation. N’rek frowned, ignoring both the Beastcrafter and the Holder’s complaints in favor of waiting for C’train, who he knew had some experience with herdbeasts.