K'tril

Artaq Weyr
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Kiyatril closed his eyes and willed himself to relax as he walked forward onto the Sands. Around him, the other Candidates looked just as nervous. The former journeyman glanced quickly around for Quirala. She was standing with the other girls, looking a trifle pale but calm. Kiyatril allowed himself a brief smile before turning back to the eggs.

Quite a few Impressions were over almost before they were begun. Kiyatril followed the new young dragons out of the Hatching Grounds with his eyes. They were so-so endearing!

A lovely chestnut-brown dragonet climbed out of his shell, the egg Kiyatril had been concentrating on, his posture regal as he strutted confidently in front of the boy Candidates. The young brown waited for his two green sisters to make their choices before doing much of anything. He raised his head proudly and looked square into Kiyatril's astonished eyes. My name is Seth, my rider. I could hear you when you spoke through my shell! I have known nothing but you for so long...

The young man's expression was of incredulous surprise. "You could hear me, Seth? When I was visiting your egg?" Kiyatril murmured softly, tentatively stroking the upturned head.

K'tril patiently rubbed oil into his dragon's supple hide, humming under his breath. He massaged the slippery liquid in until Seth gleamed softly in the sunlight. "Feels great, doesn't it?" the rider asked cheerfully. Seth wriggled voluptuously under his hands. Mmm, yes. Anything you do makes me feel great! was the weyrling's adoring response.

K'tril rubbed the soft-downed eyeridges affectionately with an oily hand until the multiple eyelids closed, one by one. Seth sighed in contentment and curled up to sleep on the warm sand.

K'tril washed his hands absently in the lake a few steps away and sat down by his dragon's side. Seth was such a marvelous creature! He'd never been subject to such total devotion and love before. As K'tril gazed fondly down at his slumbering lifemate, he couldn't help admiring the young brown. Seth was quite large for a brown, though not as big as some of the bronzes his age, and his soft hide was a deep, earthy rich brown. Almost klah-colored, actually, but with more depth. The rider could remember how big the translucent brown wings had been from when Seth had first flared his pinions.

K'tril smiled down at his dragon once more before quietly getting up to prepare Seth's next meal...

"Mala? What is it?" Quirala's voice roused K'tril from his slumber, and he looked over at his fellow weyrling sleepily. Malatith is rising! Seth exclaimed a moment later. K'tril leaped out of bed and hurried outside. Seth had already blooded, his whirling eyes fastened on the glowing green in the feeding pens.

Malatith hissed and blooded the carcass as her rider commanded, sucking greedily and then leaping for another. She seemed less resistant this time, draining her kill and raising her blood-stained head to survey the waiting males. The green snorted derisively and launched quickly into the air.

K'tril realized the green in contention wouldn't last long in flight against the mostly adult chasers. The weyrling green was too small, her wings too weak, and had only blooded two. She would be caught soon, and the pursuing males knew it. K'tril caught Quirala's frightened gaze and tried to send reassurance to her.

Malatith wheeled about in the air with agile grace, twisting and diving randomly. She succeeded in shaking off a few of the browns and blues with her maneuvers, taunting them shrilly. Quirala laughed triumphantly as several men left the weyr in defeat. "You'll never catch us!" she hissed, weaving around the remaining riders in an intricate dance. K'tril watched her form with admiring eyes.

In the air, Malatith was tiring swiftly. She shot up once more and went into free fall. Seth dove to catch up, his small size now an advantage. The two young dragons fell, entwined.

K'tril pulled Quirala close, savoring the feel of her, finally in his embrace. She relaxed against him, which pleased the brownrider to no end. We have both gotten what we wanted. Seth told him. K'tril agreed fervently.

Malatith has gone back to the Weyr. Seth reported shortly, then sped forward and dove to flame a clump of writhing Thread. K'tril sent a mental acknowledgement and fed more firestone to his brown, listening closely to the loud sound of rock being masticated. It wouldn't do to have his dragon accidentally bite his cheeks or tongue.

I am always careful, my rider. Seth spoke up, swallowing the fragments. K'tril grinned and patted the glossy neck. I know that, Seth dearest, but you can never be over vigilant. How much longer until the Trailing Edge comes up? he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

There were a few moments of silence before the dragon answered. Soon. Less than a quarter-candlemark. he responded, a tinge of fatigue in his mental tone. K'tril nodded in relief; Seth was one of the smaller browns in the Weyr and didn't have as much endurance as the big ones. But I had enough stamina to outfly the others in Malatith's flight. Seth reminded his rider smugly.

So you did, love, so you did. But Threadfall is very different. Look, there's the Trailing Edge now. the young man assured his dragon, watching as the remaining Thread fell harmlessly into the sparkling ocean. We go back home now. Seth announced, and they winked into frigid between for three heartbeats before reappearing over the Weyr.

K'tril smiled as his brown joined in the brassy thunder of sound that heralded the wing's return. Malatith was waiting on the weyr ledge for them. She added her unique, crystalline voice to the mass bugling as her mate landed beside her. Seth looked down at the smaller green with an air of paternal patience as she curled up around him possessively.