Players: M'vari and R'fin.
Time: Day 17, month 1, turn 443.
Scene: R'fin gets his flying lesson.
[DTU] To Eneyith, Reith cordially invites, << Come to the lake shore. Make sure your rider has straps. >> After a short pause, he adds, << And warm clothes. There's a little snow. >>
[DTU] To Reith, Eneyith is waking from a nap, but when he recognizes who's contacting him he does so quickly. << A moment. Yes. >>
R'fin comes out of the barracks.
R'fin stumbles out of the barracks in a hurry, wrapped in his coat and trailed by Eneyith. Clearly, the boy has been practicing for this in his spare time - it's not five minutes since Eneyith passed the word on to him, and already the dragon has his straps on and settled. R'fin keeps glancing back at the brown, muttering for him to hurry up, and earns a snort from him. He does, however, speed up.
R'fin ;, if the cold is affecting him, isn't letting it show. He snaps off a sharp salute as soon as he gets close enough to M'vari. "Sir!" The questioning makes him nervous, and he chews on his lower lip. "I'm ready, sir, yes. We've been practicing with the straps in our spare time, sir." Eneyith returns Reith's warble, quite visibly more relaxed about this than his rider.
M'vari surveys the brown more than the brownrider, peering intently at the straps - the buckles, the loops, the whole rig. "Practice makes perfect, or so they say," he remarks vaguely, crunching a little in the snow as he walks up and down the length of Eneyith, pacing it out measuringly. "If everything feels good to him, then mount up." He doesn't wait for an answer, just turns to Reith.
R'fin looks to Eneyith, who answers with nothing more than a yawn. Apparently, he's comfortable. "Yes, sir," R'fin calls over his shoulder as he steps up to the brown. There he pauses with one hand on the nearest strap, taking in a deep breath of the cold air. Calm. And then he scrambles up rather smoothly, having practiced this part, too.
M'vari hauls himself up deftly, buckling in just as deftly. "Up and back, nothing fancy. Stay on Reith's tail, and make sure Eneyith lets Reith know if anything feels wrong." This time, he actually waits for a response.
You climb up between Reith's neckridges.
** R'fin climbs up between Eneyith's neckridges.
It is late evening in the winter. A thick layer of clouds blots out the sky entirely, hanging low and sullen. The windless winter day looks drab under the cloud cover. Timor is a waning gibbous moon, and Belior is a waning crescent moon, both hidden behind the clouds. The temperature is about 28F, -2C.
** From Eneyith's neckridges, R'fin fusses with the straps just beneath him, making sure they lie /just/ /so/. Because here comes the part that he could practice. "Okay, sir. He will." Eneyith just turns his head to watch Reith, waiting for the other brown to take off first.
Reith springs into the sky.
** Eneyith wings up from the lake.
** Reith takes off in a neat spring, stirring up snow and a little gravel as he pumps for his altitude. He hovers loosely to await the younger brown, turning his head back down and around to watch for Eneyith - giving just a little forward momentum so as not to cause a weyrling dragon to have to pull of hovering right out of the gate.
** Eneyith considers Reith's launch for a moment, his eyes whirling a slow blue. He crouches, pauses a moment to rumble at R'fin, and then imitates the movement - not exactly, and not at all perfectly, but just well enough as to not jostle R'fin. He struggles a bit with the rhythm of his own wingbeats, but catches enough air to bear himself aloft and eventually grow steady. R'fin has his eyes closed through the whole ordeal, his lips moving quickly but so quietly that whatever he says is lost to the wind.
** Reith hangs back until Eneyith gets a feel for it, undoubtedly made more difficult by the slowly falling snow. M'vari hunkers down below the wind-break of his dragon's neckridges, clinging hard to the straps with his gloved hands. Gliding easily, using few wingbeats, he leads a path across the bowl with the beginning of a slow arc to let them glance wide of the star stones.
** Eneyith does take a snap at the snow, venting his frustration at it for falling while he's trying to fly, but he learns to adjust for it quickly as he follows Reith across the bowl. Just as they're arching in on the star stones - with Eneyith giving the obstacles a wide berth - R'fin squints one eye open and peeks. Not dead? No, but quite high up: his hands tighten into white-knuckled fists around the straps.
[DTU] To Eneyith, Reith projects, << We're going to go back down now. If you think you might not land very well - >> Which doesn't seem like it would surprise him, to guess by that tone. << - go ahead and overshoot your landing and crash into the lake. It's cold, but it doesn't hurt. >>
[DTU] To Reith, Eneyith considers, a brief flash of bright yellow crossing his mind. << May I crash into the lake anyway? It may be necessary, when we practice on our own, that I know how to do this. >>
[DTU] To Eneyith, Reith, confused, << You can crash into the lake if you want to? But you'll be cold and your rider probably won't be happy about it. >>
[DTU] To Reith, Eneyith's bright yellow dulls to a mild, accepting ochre. << No, he would not. Some other time, perhaps. >>
[DTU] To Eneyith, Reith projects, << Good thinking. Aim for the beach. It's easiest. >>
Reith wings your way toward the lake.
** Eneyith wings his way from the southwestern sky.
** Reith touches down lightly off to one side of Eneyith's projected landing strip. The same time he hits the ground, M'vari is hopping off so they land in the snow at almost exactly the same moment. It's a long practiced trick. Pulling off his goggles, he peers toward the weyrling pair expectantly.
You hop down from Reith's neckridges.
Eneyith does not have such a good angle to watch Reith's technique, this time, so he must improvise. The sharp angle of his approach prompts a high-pitched "En!" from R'fin (who's braced for the landing as though afraid to fall off), and the dragon corrects himself. He backwings sharply, checking both momentum and angle, and drops to the beach with a heavy but survivable thud.
M'vari grates his teeth together sympathetically when R'fin hits that harder landing. "That looked uncomfortable," he says with further sympathy. "You all right?" Pause. "Better still. Is Eneyith all right?" Beyond sympathy, he gives the brown a considering look, striding briskly across to the pair of them.
From Eneyith's neckridges, R'fin remains on his brown's back, frozen in place with his eyes wide open and his mouth dropped. Eneyith turns his head to greet M'vari's approach with a rumble, shifting each of his legs to show that he can - nothing broken or painful, there. And it's that rumble which stirs some life back into R'fin: the weyrling completely forgets dignity, training, and M'vari to let out the most ear-splitting whoop he can muster. One hand pumps into the air while the other thumps Eneyith's shoulder emphatically; the dragon's eyes whirl a little faster, but that's all.
M'vari steels himself neatly for that whoop, doing little more than cringing his shoulders as it breaks the peacefulness of evening and all. "A-HEM," he interrupts sharply. "Is - Eneyith - all - right?"
From Eneyith's neckridges, R'fin blushes, but no amount of embarrassment can entirely wipe the grin off his face as he scrambles down from Eneyith's back. He faces M'vari, but keeps a hand behind him, always in contact with his dragon's leg. "Yes, sir. Sorry. He says he's fine. I'll check him over, too." He pats Eneyith's leg.
R'fin hops down from Eneyith's neckridges.
"Good," says M'vari firmly, nodding and stepping away from the new fliers. He continues to eye the dragon, though, flaring his nostrils. "You two are definitely going to need to work on your landings before you go picking out your own weyr. That kind of landing on a ledge..." He trails off, shaking his head at the idea of a very flat dragon.
R'fin sucks his upper lip in, which is the only effective way to get rid of his smile. So he does look appropriately solemn when he nods to M'vari's words. "Mmhmm." Letting the lip go for a second, "Yes, sir. We'll practice them." Which, given how much effort they put in to getting ready for this first flight, means they'll spend every free (non-nap) moment on it.
M'vari's being nice or something, 'cause he totally ignores the fact that R'fin is actually smiling in the face of this most monumental development. Happiness, bah. "Excellent. Once the two of you are capable of landing tidily on the ground, then you can go look for an empty weyr. And have B'rek give him a once-over physically to make sure he doesn't jar anything. Understood?"
R'fin nods, his hand snapping up for a salute. "Understood, sir." At least he's making an effort to hide the smile, it's just not a very good one.
M'vari returns the salute nice and crisply, saying, "Excellent. You did - " He stops, searching for some kinda word that conveys his thoughts accurately. " - just fine. You're dismissed." Nodding toward the barracks, he adds, "Get inside and warm up. It's freezing out here."
R'fin salutes again, accepting the lacklustre praise with a big, froggish grin. Subtleties of word choice are lost on R'fin, though Eneyith gives an amused snort. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." And with those parting words, that salute, he follows orders and heads in to the barracks, Eneyith trailing leisurely in his wake.
[DTU] To Eneyith, Reith tacks on, << You did well. You'll learn quickly. >>
M'vari heads off to get inside and warm up himself. It's freezing out there.
[DTU] To Reith, Eneyith does not doubt. << Yes, I will. Thank you. >>