Gliding Lesson

M'hryn sits on the edge of Talibenth's couch, his bronze's large head laying on the stone floor next to the weyrling. With a nod, M'hryn scrambles to his feet akwardly, trying to keep his burden from touching the ground and says, "Okay. Lift your head." Talibenth does so, and M'hryn carefully loops the riding straps he carries around the bronze's neck. Hearing Madelynda, he turns towards her before buckling the straps. "She doesn't like the, uhm, sand?" he asks.

Phediath rumbles softly and, with a giant and laborous exhale, lifts her broad body up and out of the stone couch. Whuffling Madelynda with her muzzle, she carefully shifts weight from foot to foot and enters the common area of the barracks.

Phediath comes out of Phediath's Couch. Phediath has arrived.

Madelynda moves wisps of thin, brown hair, torn out of the braid by her lifemate's whoosh, and grins at Phediath as she moves the broom and begins to sweep the couch itself. Over her shoulder, arms tensing with the effort of forcing tiny black grains out of tiny dark crevices, she calls, "Aye; she absolutely hates the sand. Ever since the Hatching, she's complained about 'those prickly things'."

Phediath's whirling eyes peruse the barracks in search for clutch- (or play?) mates. A soft, contented, and lazy blue, they rest on Talibenth and a low croon in greeting arises from her.

Talibenth sits up on his haunches, displaying his marbled, golden hide bronze to the best advantage to the gold. As he does so, the straps which had been resting upon his neck, in slow motion, slip off the side and fall in an oiled bundled upon the ground. M'hryn doesn't notice immediately, he's looking at Madelynda and Phediath. "Really? Talibenth likes the sand in our couch. He rubs his belly on it. But he hates getting dirty." Then he happens to look in the bronze's direction and sees the straps piled on the dirty ground. "Oh, jays," he whines.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth gives a low rumble, << Hello, Phediath. You look ... gold. >>

Madelynda, bending down to rub the smoothed rock surface of the couch, nods idly at M'hryn's reply; but looks up at his cry of frustration, her brows furrowing as she sees the pile of oily straps on the ground. "Oh," she states softly, at a loss of what to say to that little tragedy; though her tone suggests that she sympathizes indeed, perhaps because her own lifemate would never tolerate dirty straps to save her hide.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath quietly stretches the length of her body, from muzzle to tail-tip, a glimmer sweeping the freshly-oiled hide as it erupts from touches of sunlight streaming in from the bowl. << I look perfectly lovely, yes? >> she suggests.

Madelynda peers again at the couch, giving it a once-over; apparently satisfied at her work, she stands upright and ambles over the edge of the depression and over to her lifemate's side. One hand caressing Phediath's haunch, she smiles to M'hryn, "Phediath says she would like to see Talibenth fly again." Her voice is slightly hushed, her complexion slightly flushed; but her smile is sincere.

Phediath continues to scan the figure of Talibenth, her own body stretching idly toward the sunlight in the bowl. In agreement -- or emphasis -- of her lifemate's admission, she croons quietly toward M'hryn, eyes whirling a bit quicker as she turns her gaze on the young human.

M'hryn has moved over to the collect the straps, shaking his head with dispair at the dirt that has bonded to the oiled hide. He sets them atop his press, careful to let none of it touch the ground, then looks back at Madelynda. "Huh?" he asks. "You want to see him fly?" His eyes go to Talibenth, who is staring at Phediath.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath rumbles an affirmative. << I want to see the large dragons fly or I refuse to fly. I am very very big now...I want to see how the others can keep themselves in the air before I try it. >> Her tone is not defiant or impetuous; rather, it is scientific and methodical as she bespeaks her logical observation. Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth seems at a loss for words. << You are ... err.... gold, >> he repeats succintly. Then he puffs up proudly, << I can keep myself in the air! I am a good flyer. Faerth said so. >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath adds one more piece of evidence in her cache: << And Talibenth is a very big dragon. So. >> She says that bit, however, victoriously -- as if no one else in Pern could've come up with such a statement.

M'hryn winces, looking at the bronze. "He... uhm, has trouble landing," he admits hesitantly after a moment of thought.

Madelynda raises and eyebrow as she moves from Phediath's side to put away the broom. Returning, she takes a few hesitant steps toward the large form of Talibenth, and smiles up at him. "Trouble, eh?" she says, as if surprised.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth rumbles proudly, partially spreading his wings. << I am bigger than Tesith and Faerth. I am bigger than almost all the others. Except you, Phediath. You are too big. >>

M'hryn nods. "A little," he replies. "But Rykel said that, uhm, they learn very quickly. It's like, uhm... what's that word.... in... in-something. You know what I mean?"

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath seems very interested at Talibenth's information. << You were able to stay in the air? How did you do it? I want to watch you. >> Eagerness begins to take over, and her tail flicks impatiently.

Madelynda's forehead wrinkles in thought, her gaze moving from Talibenth to the ground as she considers. "Yes...what did she say? In-stinctive, was it?" She half-smiles, uncertainty in her eyes as she looks back to M'hryn.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth replies arrogantly to his golden sister, as if he were a sovereign granting a miniscule boon to a poor subject, << Then I will show you. >>

Phediath crooons loudly, toward Talibenth it seems, and bucks her head. At an eager pace, she begins to almost runner-trot toward the entrance of the bowl, leaving Madelynda to simply gawk after her lumbering form.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath rumbles happily. << Good. Let us go. >>

Talibenth chuffs impatiently, spreading his wings to their full length and making the weyrling barracks suddenly seem very small. M'hryn, about to reply to Madelynda, is forced to duck beneath a goldengreen wingsail. "Okay! Okay!" he says to the bronze. "Hold your runners. We're go--" He can't even finish the statement before Talibenth is bounding towards the entrance after the gold.

Talibenth lumbers off out into the bowl. Talibenth has left.

Faerth lumbers through the cavernous opening from the Bowl. Faerth has arrived.

Rykel walks in from the Bowl. Rykel has arrived.

Madelynda blinks as Phediath and Talibenth suddenly leave, a frown distracting her from her conversation with M'hryn. "Aye, Phediath, all /right/!" She seems to give in to some desire of her lifemate in an attempt to end an unheard argument. Sighing, she half-smiles at M'hryn, sure that he knows what all this is about. "Shall we?" she asks, walking toward the bowl...but she stops as Rykel arrives, saluting her. "Hello, ma'am."

Rykel salutes tiredly and waves out to the bowl. "Go on with ya."

M'hryn nods at Madelynda, moving towards the entrance. He salutes Rykel, then nods. "Uhm, yes, ma'am," he says, moving past her and out to the bowl.

Rykel waves off the wave and looks up, sleep-deprived eyes blinking. "Wait, Maddy. Why don't you and Phed learn to fly, eh? Well, Phediath anyway."

Madelynda grins broadly at Rykel, and nods. "Yes, ma'am," she echoes M'hryn -- though her tone holds fewer "uhm"s -- and she trots out after her lifemate.

You walk out of the huge opening and into the bowl.

Rykel walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north. Rykel has arrived.

M'hryn walks out of the Weyrling Barracks to the north. M'hryn has arrived.

Rykel sighs and slouches immediately against an obliging rock. "Since it's just us, we can do it here."

Phediath bugles loudly at Talibenth as she stretches her wings wide and pumps them up and downward once, as if emphasizing her eagerness to watch him do that precise movement.

Madelynda winces at her lifemate's bugle and most unbecoming eagerness, gaze flickering apologetically to Rykel and M'hryn. "Sorry," she says softly, then walks quickly over to the weyrlingmaster's side.

Talibenth sits up on his haunches and bugles back at Phediath, though not as loudly despite his attempt to outdo his larger sister. Then he rumbles and spreads out his long goldengreen wings as his rider looks expectantly at the weyrlingmaster. "Uhm, I think, uh, that Phediath wants to watch Talibenth glide?" All though it was meant to be a statement, it comes out as a question and he looks expectantly at Madelynda as if for confirmation.

Rykel shakes her head. "Do not be. She is quite normal, to be so excited." She exhales loudly and settles herself back into the rock. Only riders could think rock was comfortable. She peers over at M'hryn and calls out, "Hey! Talibenth's rider, is he ready? Can he show Phed how to glide?"

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath croons urgently. << Go, Talibenth. I want to see. Can you not fly? >> It is almost a challenge -- perhaps because that particular, challenging tone has (in the past, anyway) gotten results with the bronze.

M'hryn swallows, nodding. "Yes, ma'am," he replies.

Madelynda nods hastily at M'hyrn, as if to give him the confirmation that his expression seeks. "Aye," she says softly, in case her timid little head bob wasn't emphatic enough to do the trick. "She says she won't try until a weyrling dragon as big as Talibenth proves that it can be done." Again, she looks apologetic about this, as if wishing her lifemate's resistance were less.

Rykel points to the sky and smiles then, it not touching her tired eyes. "Then go ahead and show the girl, Talibenth."

Talibenth rumbles arrogantly at Phediath, standing still for a moment to let the sunlight glimmer off his well-maintained hide. Then the bronze crouches down on his haunches, muscles tensing along his flanks and sides as he holds his longs wings out. Suddenly, like a stretched coil snapping back into shape, Talibenth pushes himself upward with his legs. Just as his feet leave the ground, his wings snap downward in a powerful downbeat, leaving eddies of swirling dust. Turning the sails just slightly, the bronze levels out, a little less than a dragonlength from the ground. One more beat of golden green wings follow, then they sit motionless as the bronze glides easily across the bowl.

Phediath stretches her neck into an exagerated arch as Talibenth launches into the air, beats his wings, and -- her swirling eyes can hardly believe it -- glides across the bowl. Standing up on her haunches, as if a taller vantage point might disprove this point, she rumbles as she watches the bronze sail in the air.

Talibenth bugles as he loses altitude, twisting his wings back and starts beating them, pushing him both downward and causing a sudden drop in speed. While the attempt is good, he still has forward momentum when he touches ground and with a stumbling gait on awkward legs bleeds off the momentum.

Madelynda watches as Talibenth sails and then attempts a landing, wincing a little as the bronze stumbles a bit on the ground. The expression is momentary, though, and she smiles over to M'hryn. "He's wonderful in the air!" she says to him admiringly.

Rykel chuckles and claps her hands a few times in appreciation. "He did wonderful! THe problem is, though...no flapping while you are at such a low altitude. That messes with the tiny currents and throws you down." She points to Phediath. "She can try. Warn her of the landing and no flapping!"

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth bugles, rather snobbily, at Phediath. << I can fly. Can you? >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath sounds apprehensive. << You can fly. But you say I am bigger; you said I am too big. I am afraid I will not get off the ground. >>

M'hryn smiles hesitantly at Madelynda, unsure how to take the praise like usual. "Thank you," he replies, then looks at Rykel. "No flapping? Oh... I didn't, uh, realize that. Thank you, ma'am."

Phediath eases her body down from her standing position to lie down on the ground. Her tail flicking in a seeming nervousness, she whooshes air out of her nose and stirs up dust from the ground.

Rykel shakes her head, "No flapping. To flap they need to go straight up in the air, like they take off for a regular flight. You've seen it before. Gliding is just one burst, open the wings, glide, then land. This is to practice landing more than flying."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth seems taken aback by Phediath's admission. His tone becomes more serious. << I could not get off the ground my first time. And Faerth said no one gets it right the first few times. But you have wings... big, long, golden wings.... You can fly. >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Faerth snorts and sticks his huge blue head out the barracks opening. << You will fly faster and higher than anyone. All big golds do. You will fly well. >>

Comprehension dawns on M'hryn's face as he looks at Rykel. "Oh!" he exclaims. "I thought this was ... Oh. I get it."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth throws a contemptuous snort in Faerth's direction. << She will not fly better than me, >> he insists.

Madelynda is not listening to the humans, really -- her eyes are on Phediath, and she quickly walks over to her lifemate. "Love, no worries. Neith and Isadith and Genneth fly." Her tone as encouraging as a nanny's, she pats the golden hide confidently, though her face betrays her own sense of nervousness. Turning toward Rykel, she smiles feebly. "What does she have to do, again?"

M'hryn turns away from Rykel to watch Madelynda and Phediath. He smiles encouragingly at the goldrider and her dragon.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Faerth sounds perfectly sure of himself. << Oh yes she will. Golds fly better than any dragon. They need to fly high, to mate well. >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath listens to all counsel, weighing each statement with the objective air of a Smith-crafter at his near-viewer. << Neith flies. And Isadith flies. And Genneth flies. And... >> She snorts, a little contemptously, perhaps because the bronze implied that she could not match his flying ability... << Talibenth flies. >>

Rykel smiles soothingly at Madelynda and adds for her dragon. "Faerth flies too. Don't worry. All she needs to do is jump up, open her wings to let the air boom them out like sails and glide across for as long as she can. Like I said, it is more to practice landing than flying."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth puffs his chest proudly. << Talibenth does fly. Talibenth will catch golds. >>

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath rumbles. << All right. I have watched Talibenth and Faerth and the other weyrlings fly. I think I know how to do it. >>

Phediath nuzzles Madelynda with her nose, breathing lightly as she seems to decide. Carefully, she tenses each muscle necessary to move her broad body up from the ground and walks carefully to an open space, wings rustling as she goes.

Madelynda smiles after her dragon, looking backward eagerly toward Rykel and M'hryn. "Oh, she's going to try!" she says eagerly, clasping her hands together. Her mouth working nervously, she turns her eyes to watch her lifemate as she prepares to make her gliding attempt.

Rykel grins and shakes her head, but her hand in gentle on Maddy's shoulder as she lightly pats her comfort. "She might fuddle the landing, they always do to some extent. She will be okay though. No weyrling has ever been seriously hurt by just gliding."

M'hryn grins for Madelynda. "She'll do good," he encourages, watching the pair.

Phediath surveys the bowl with a careful, conscious, whirling eye, as if checking to make sure that the way is clear. Straightening her body upward from the earth, muscles on haunches and flanks tensing in preparation for this task, she suddenly yet methodically bursts her wings out and away from her body, the shadowed traceries on her hide losing their dark hue as the gold flashes in the bright, intense light of mid-day. As if on cue, a small eddy of air picks up underneath the dragon's outstretched wings and, catching it, Phediath jumps into the air.

Talibenth sits on his haunches, watching Phediath launch into the air with rapidly spinning blue-green eyes. He bugles as she jumps, spreading his own wings out in the excitement of watching the gold flying.

Phediath hangs on the eddy for a moment before her speed picks up into a glide. Eyes intense with effort, the gold's massive body jags unevenly in the air, each wing tilting toward the earth at different moments; but she manages to stay airborne. When she approaches the bronze form of Talibenth, she allows the muscles of her wings to lose their tension and so sails deeply downward and, stumbling slightly, lands safely on the ground two dragonlengths away from her clutchmate.

Rykel gives a loud 'whoop!' and applauds the gold's freshman effort. "Wonderful! See? Phediath is strong! Okay, have her try again to come back here and Talibenth's rider, have him follow."

M'hryn watches the gold's awkward first flight with some apprehension, but breaks into a big smile as Phediath lands near his lifemate. "She flew great!" he exclaims to Madelynda, then stops and nods to Rykel. "Yes, ma'am," he replies.

Madelynda, her whole body tense, her hands clasping and unclasping in nervousness, watches silently as Phediath makes her glide across the bowl. She only remembers to breathe as her lifemate reaches the ground again in safety, exhaling in a loud and tension-relaxing sigh. At Rykel's cry, she begins to giggle, and nods furiously. "She did it!" she says in wonder, eyes locked on Phediath's distant form as she seems to send overwhelming thoughts of love and relief to her lifemate.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath mind-bugles triumphantly.

Phediath neatly folds her wings into her body as if conscious of Talibenth's gaze and streches her gleaming gold neck proudly. Ambling gracefully to a safer distance, she prepares for another glide.

Madelynda echoes Mh'ryn's "Yes, ma'am" and focuses on Phediath.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth sounds almost grudging in his praise as he says to his clutchmate, << Faranth's great golden big toe, you flew well, Phediath. Like ... like a big, gold vtol. >> It may not sound like much, but by his tone he means it as high praise indeed.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Faerth bugles loudly instead and shoves his snout further out into the northwest bowl to get a better look at the return flight. << Young dragons always do well. Two more tries, Phediath, and you will land fine everytime after. It almost always works out that way. You flew well. >>

Phediath doesn't stand motionless as long, but clearly examines her flight-path with careful eyes before even thinking about launching her large body into the air. With a satisfied rumble, she straightens herself upward from the ground and shoots out her wings again, a little more confidence in that action apparent by the smooth motion of the wing muscles. Again, the air-currents comply and Phediath's body launches lithely into the air in a smoother, less-tilting glide; the landing a few dragonlengths away from the watching humans is near-perfect, near-graceful, and includes only the slightest uncertain stumble.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath, apparently, is very impressed by Talibenth's compliment. Her tone, in fact, seems to relay that she could be no happier than to be set up against and compared to a VTOL. << Why, thank you, Talibenth. >> To Faerth, all the sudden the fierce logician again, she asks, << Two more tries? Is that how long it takes? >> Dragon> Faerth bespoke Ista Weyrling dragons with << One now. You just did your second try. It was very good. I wait to see Talibenth now. He should be fine. Watch him, Phediath. >>

Talibenth crouches once again, jumping upward into the air the right after Phediath, although he is more careful than he usually is, probably because of his clutchmate's almost perfect flight. Off the ground, his wings snap out, catching nice warm air rising from the ground below, and he glides towards his lifemate and Phediath and the other humans. But halfway there, with a mischevious rumble, he turns slightly, left wing dipping downward, causing the bronze to bank slightly towards his left. Unfortunately, the maneuver causes some of his precious attitude to bleed away and he straights out very quickly before colliding unpleasantly with the ground. Now though he doesn't have enough lift or momentum to correct his course and he lands, with only a slightly stumble, short of and well to the left of the others.

M'hryn shakes his head and tries to glance surreptitously at the weyrlingmaster to see if she is upset with Talibenth's attempt to show off. "Don't do that!" he whispers unkowingly out loud to the bronze.

Phediath arches her neck to whirl her eyes toward the other end of the bowl, where Talibenth is, and eventually her broad body follows as she turns around to watch the bronze in his attempt to fly. Wings rustling tightly against her body, she croons as Talibenth launches, then bugles with slight alarm as the bronze wavers to the left and jets toward the earth. When Talibenth corrects the angle, she bugles irritably, as if upset with his lapse in discipline, and bucks her head.

Madelynda's brows furrow as Talibenth finally reaches the ground, her breathing less rythmic than before due to the fright of seeing the bronze almost collide with the ground, and looks toward M'hryn. "Is he all right?" she asks urgently, then winces at Phediath's irritated bugle. "Aye, love, it's all right. I'm sure Rykel will tell him what's what." Another apologetic glance goes toward M'hryn.

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Phediath grumble-rumbles at Talibenth. << Did Faerth's rider tell you to do that? Why did you try to do something different? You are being careless. >> Her tone, though obviously upset, betrays her worry and care for the bronze. Irritation is her immediate, face-saving response in such endangering situations. M'hryn nods at Madelynda, biting his lip. "He's fine. He was, uhm, trying to show off," he says quietly, eyes going again to Rykel. "He just decided to do it. I would have stopped him if it weren't, uhm, a spur of the moment thing."

Dragon> Ista Weyrling dragons sense that Talibenth sounds amused with himself. << I am not being careless. I am a good flyer. >>

Rykel clears her throat and raises the /jabbing finger/ at M'hryn and starts jabbing away with glee and punctuation coloring her words. "You do not EVER let him so such foolis things, understand?" Now, summarily chastened she allows a small grin to peek through the anger. "He did well, anyway. Smaller bronzes can manuever very well. Be glad for it. It has caught them many a gold."

M'hryn blanches, taking several steps away from Rykel and her pointing finger. "I'm sorry!" he exclaims. "I mean, he just decided... I really stopped him if ... I mean..." he shakes his head, realizing he can't argue that it's not his fault. But then the rest of Rykel's words slip through his haze of panic and stops, looking at the weyrlingmaster. "He did fly well, really?"

Madelynda nods soberly at M'hryn, shies from the jabbing finger, and then looks curiously at Rykel as the weyrlingmaster begins to slightly grin. To M'hryn, in a meek voice, she says, "He did move out of the danger well." It's meant to be a compliment, although she's still a bit shaken by the whole thing.

Rykel bobs her head. "Yup." Simple, to the point, she's tired.

A low rumble slowly curdles in Phediath's chest, and her tail flicks about with unspent energy. As if for reassurance, she ambles closer to the humans and nuzzles Madelynda, but in a practiced way that doesn't even muss her lifemate's hair.

Madelynda looks up at her lifemate, a small grin on her face, and chuckles. "But he didn't get hurt, love." She stretches out one hand to give Phediath a soft pat. "And you won't either. I promise." With that, she looks back to Rykel and M'hryn.

Talibenth lumbers the rest of the way to the group and settles down near Phediath, still chiffing with what seems to be amusement. His rider nods at Rykel, a small smile appearing on his face, and he says, "I, uhm, won't lose control of him like that again, uh, ma'am." Then he looks back at Talibenth and shakes his head. It's apparent on his face that he sometimes has no idea what to do with his trouble-prone lifemate.

Rykel waves a hand and shakes her head. "I know. I'm going to go nap. Tired as usual. You both did extremely well. Full out flying later this month." She winks and takes off with her shuffling gait.

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