Flying Lesson

Sooth croons a greeting to the lovely young gold.

Madelynda follows gingerly behind her lifemate as they tread out of the barracks and into the bowl, a look of quiet apprehension on her face as she does. Eyes flicker around the bowl to other busy weyrlings, then nods as Lyree instructs them to sand by Sooth. Doing so, both Madelynda and Phediath watch quietly.

Lyree gets the bag tossing underway, and makes her way over to Sooth's side. She gives Phediath a critical once-over, and nods. "She's been gliding well?"

Phediath swivels her head in a graceful arch toward Sooth at the crooning sound, then sweetly rumbles in return, her tail flicking about in apparent glee at being outside.

Madelynda nods briefly, eyes on the ground as a smile dances on her lips, and murmurs, "Aye, ma'am. She was very careful to watch the other weyrlings, and so had some very specific ideas about the whole thing before even attempting to do it." With a prideful pat, she carresses Phediath's lowered headknobs.

Phediath's eyes pick up their whirling as she catches the compliment from her rider's mind, and the tail flicks emphatically, stirring up little eddies of dust off the ground.

Lyree nods again, not surprised. "Well then, it's time to get those wings working. For now, just about the same thing you were doing before, but with a few wingbeats to gain a bit of height and distance. Ready?"

Dragon> Phediath bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << My landings are perfectly lovely. >> Her tone is rounded with pride. << And I was able to stay in the air, though I am very big. >>

Madelynda blinks at Lyree, as if -- indeed -- unready; but the uncertainty is quickly suppressed by a taut and firm nod. "Yes, ma'am," she answers too loudly, perhaps due to nervousnes, and gives Phediath's foreleg a pat. "Love?" she says simply, saving the rest of the dialogue with her lifemate for their minds.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth rumbles, not quite sure why the gold would think she wouldn't stay in the air. << I have seen, you land well. Now you will fly well. >>

Phediath bucks her head upward, a large exhale whooshing out of her nose, an affirmative and confident snort of sorts. She whirls her eyes toward Sooth a moment as she lumbers toward a clear space in the bowl. Next, she eyes the area ahead of her carefully, as if examining the field were the first and most important step. Breathing lightly, she pauses in this action in a seeming contemplative preparation.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath pictures the blue figure of Sooth. << I simply do as before, but move my wings? This is all your rider wants? >> She seems very particular about getting it all right ahead of time.

Sooth launches himself into the sky, ready to assist the queen should she falter, however unlikely that may be.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth affirms the queen's interpretation of her instructions. << You have seen the other queens, yes? Fly like that, just down to *image of rock halfway down bowl*. Remember to land carefully, you will be going faster now than when you were just gliding. >>

Phediath is distracted by Sooth's launching, and watches him airborne for a few moments. As if his flying were permission, she tenses the muscles in her haunches, like a spring in coil, and in a large and strong motion shoots out her wings while releasing the tension in her hindquarters. Swiftly, an air current catches the massive and golden sails, sending the young queen's body upward and onward in a glide across the bowl.

Lyree watches the queen glide, not fly. She frowns.

Phediath, hanging silently on the currents of the air, moves her wings in an experimental downbeat...and with that singular motion, her speed increases and her body launches further up in the sky. With a surprised bugle, the queen releases the tension in her wings enough to send her swiftly downward, her legs scrambling in the air before she finally touches down and stumbles the landing a few dragonlengths past a rock halfway down the bowl.

Sooth rumbles reassurance from his spot above the queen.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth sounds aggrieved, << You did not believe me? I said you would fly. >>

Madelynda breathes in sharply as Phediath's bugle echoes throughout the bowl, her eyes darting apprehensively toward Lyree; her mouth matches the weyrlingmaster's frown as she takes in Lyree's expression. "Uhm...sorry," she musters, brows furrowing as she sends soothing thoughts down toward her lifemate.

Lyree frowns again, this time at the landing. She turns to Madelynda. "Why was she surprised?" Then she modifies her expression, all told it wasn't a bad first flight. "She did well enough but... " She stops and shrugs. "Stop worrying so. She'll get the hang of it. Have her come back now. And a couple more wingbeats this time, please." Then she actually grins. "Now that she knows what to expect."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath rumbles in surprise and frustration. << I was not ready for climbing so high. It surprised me. >> She pauses in conference with her lifemate. << Madlyn says it is alright for me to go that high because my wings are big. I just must get used to it? >> she inquires, her desire to know overruling her initial, shocked reaction.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth rumbles assuringly. << You will become used to it. You will fly farther and faster and higher than the others, because you are gold. All golds do that. >>

Madelynda nods, a look of fierce determination replacing her look of embarrassment as she mentally confers with Phediath. Her expression -- brows knit together, mouth a thin line -- admits a strong attempt to take control of her lifemate, to be the leader in the situation; her eyes focussing on the golden figure across the bowl, she seems to drown out all other stimuli.

Lyree nods to herself, possibly in approval of Madelynda's attempt to lead her lifemate.

Phediath snorts roughly, bucking her head as she shakes out the body in a thoughts-clearing, clean-slate movement. Taking a few steps to turn around full-circle, she exhales loudly, tenses her muscles, and makes another launch into the air -- this time, a wingbeat occurs just a dragonlength off of the ground, sending her upward toward Sooth; almost immediately, as if on faith, she downbeats again and lifts her body even further upward into the sky.

Sooth bugles encouragement to the queen!

Madelynda smiles broadly, craning her neck to keep her eyes fastened on Phediath, and mutters to herself, "Aye, love; just go. It's fine! You are perfectly lovely!" This last phrase is caught up in a hint of laughter, and the girl stands up on her toes as if to get closer to the gleaming body sailing through the air.

Lyree smiles, almost as delighted with PHediath's flight as Madelynda. "That's good. Now bring her down to land."

Dragon> Sooth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << See? You fly well, I said you would. I have never seen a youngling so reluctant to fly! >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth is obviously passing that last observation along from his rider, as there's no way he'd remember anything that long ago.

Phediath returns Sooth's bugle with a brassy one that is almost a coy thank you. Trying to solve the problem of descent and landing, she peers downward, surveying the ground. Simultaneously, she relaxes the wing muscles and lessens the sail, causing her body to tilt first to one side and then the other in an attempt to stay steady; but she manages to start her descent toward the bowl, and eventually stutters to the ground with what would be a solid landing if she didn't need to catch her balance -- which she does ardently, wings fluttering for a moment before she achieves steadiness with an impetuous snort.

Sooth follows her towards the ground, tensed to react if she over-balances, but no, she lands safely, if a bit awkwardly. She can only improve from here, and he trumpets happily.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath snorts, respectful for the wonderful flyer that is Sooth, but slightly impetuous as well. << I am not reluctant; I am careful. Someone must be. >> A ghost image of a bronze clutchmate correcting his glide at the last minute before careening into the ground, probably a quickly-fading but siezed-upon memory, flickers in her mind.

Madelynda positively beams as Phediath lands, totally uncritical of the awkwardness of the attempt, and clasps her hands together as she swiftly looks at Lyree for approval. "Was that more like it?" she asks, almost breathlessly.

Lyree claps Madelynda's shoulder in a sort of congratulation. "Good! We'll keep you practicing that now. Stay to the middle of the bowl for now, the winds are even trickier towards the walls."

Phediath quickly rearranges herself and her wings, ruffling them into neat folds before settling them in place along the sunlit sides of her body. Three dragonlengths or so away from her lifemate, she softly croons toward Madelynda, as if inquiring about the whole affair. Taking lithe steps across the bowl -- perhaps to make up for that most ugly landing -- she gradually lumbers toward her rider and the weyrlingmaster.

Madelynda straightens impulsively as Lyree's hand lands approvingly on her shoulder, and nods soberly. "Stay to the middle. Yes ma'am," she repeats, as if to ingrain it permanently in her memory. Her eyes moving toward Phediath as she approaches, her smile brightens impossibly, and she reaches out to give her a firm pat on the foreleg before murmuring, "Perfectly lovely!"

Lyree nods to herself, as Sooth lands nearby. "And don't worry, she'll quickly become more graceful, that's what all the practicing is for. You'll be on elevator duty before you know it." She winks.

Madelynda can't help it and giggles. "Yes; she says she doesn't mind practicing now that she knows she can do it." She smiles up at Lyree, her cheeks flushing a little. "She says Sooth was a great help, and such a good flier."

Lyree grins, "Not that she needed the help, as it turned out, though a good example never hurts." She turns the grin on her dragon as he preens in response to the compliment with a pleased rumble.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath puffs up happily, allowing the sun to catch the gleam of her hide. << I shall fly higher than the rest? Like Neith and Genneth and Isadith? >> Though she may intend the question to be a scientific one, she can help but betray a hint of pride.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Sooth nods to the young gold, << Of course you will. >> His tone is absolute, with no trace of doubt.

Madelynda sighs happily and looks up at Phediath. "I think that good work deserves some extra oil." After a moment, as if in answer to a silent thought, she giggles. "And yes, I shall even scour you for those prickly things...." As an afterthough, as if trying to teach her lifemate the proper word, she adds, "The sand. The prickly things are sand, Phedi." She looks at Lyree as if in hope for permission.

Lyree had been watching the sack tossing, but feeling eyes on her, turns back, and reveiws the half-heard comment.. "Oh, yes, go ahead."

Madelynda grins, salutes; and with one hand on her lifemate, walks with Phediath toward the barracks.

You walk into the huge opening of the Weyrling Barracks.

Back to Home