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 Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2019 8:55 pm
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Quote: Nyaranau [HR] - 19 - she/her/hers - Weyrling of Gold Mictecath
How brilliantly shone their home, gilded by a sun so warm it carried a promise of summer on its breath. Tiny figures like ants flitted to and fro far down below, whilst a wing engaged in drills on the other side of the bowl. Mictecath surveyed the Weyr with a queenly air far more appropriate of a senior gold. Pride and love for High Reaches blossomed within her chest, rippling outwards, suffusing the shared bond with a radiant glow of affection and energy.
It’s beautiful. It always is. Nyara remarked, her thoughts uncharacteristically soft and gentle.
Mictecath crooned, a musical sound her rider heard despite the physical distance that separated them. Nyaranau looked up, picking out the pale young queen on the heights. A loving, tender smile spread across her face; it was the same gushing feeling that she had experienced when those rainbow eyes looked into her soul. A torrential current of love and devotion swept them away, just like the very first moment their minds met. She felt Mictecath’s mental presence tighten around her mind, just as she too pulled closer to her dragon, sharing in every sense, the wind against their hide, the sunshine on their back, that fierce pride and love for their home…
Nyara bent her head, mastering the emotion that left her vulnerable in public. Mictecath was a gift she had never expected- Impression… and, well… the bond that coursed between them now… no matter how many lessons she had attended as a candidate, words could not impart the true and full meaning of a rider and a dragon’s love for each other. She dashed away a few happy tears, chuckling at her own self-perceived weakness.
My dearest Nyara, do not cry so. Maternal and nurturing, Mic wrapped herself around her rider, in an attempt to mentally dry those tears.
I’m not… well, at least… not out of sadness. I’m happy, you silly mother-wherry. Anyways, weren’t you meant to be flying? Stop being all sentimental on me- I can’t get my work done! Nyara teased back, giving her dragon an affectionate nudge. She turned her gaze on the straps before her, needle and thread in hand.
Very well. I’m certain you’ll be fine down there, but if you would like to fly with me again...
Well, we’d get in trouble if we did it unsupervised…
I had no plans on flying unsupervised! There was a bubbling note of excitement- which, in Mic-speak, meant that she was going to chase someone down to help her. Nyara raised an eyebrow, but she did not have to wait long for an explanation. Mama! Mama! It’s such a beautiful day! Shall we go flying together? Her childlike jubilation was sweet and touching, if slightly babyish. When it came to Fianth and Krahsujunth, she became quite like a kitten or puppy- neediness and love in one (now big) ball of gold dragon.
I have much to learn before I am a great flier, and who better to learn from than my most beloved mama? Nyara smiled as she applied herself to her work- Mic’s words might have sounded unbearably saccharine, coming from anyone else. But it was her, so they were spoke with a purity and earnestness that only the cuddly, affectionate gold could achieve.
Uta Tada! Sorry for the awfulness! But we got there in the end haha. |
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Posted: Sun Aug 04, 2019 1:58 pm
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Fianth hadn’t expected Mictecath to reach out to her, but the pale gold lifted her head from where she had been resting upon her ledge. Her eyes immediately changed from a bright green to a more purple-blue. She loved all of her and Rhianth’s children, certainly, and always had maternal hearts; when one of them called to her, or asked for her, the queen had no choice but to make time for them.
Micteath, dearest, I would be most happy to fly with you. The woman spoke fondly, a surge of pleasure entering her words, even as she sent Mictecath a wave of warmth and fondness. My, but you’ve grown up so beautifully. Where might you like to begin this day? Shall I join you up there, or shall we begin down in the Bowl? Shall it be the two of us, or shall our riders be joining us? Fianth had no problem taking wing, and would happily follow Mictecath’s preference on where to begin.
Olliah, for her part, only smiled from where she sat at her desk. She was in the middle of a letter concerning tithes to some of the smaller Holds; while she hated writing them--a mix of gratitude, but also underlying where their tithes had lacked and requests for things they had not received--it was hard to stay in a negative place when her queen was suddenly so overjoyed.
Leave it to Fianth to, not only encourage her to step away from the writing, but to give her no choice. I see what you’re doing.
It is a lovely day. Surely, it is your duty as a Weyrwoman to ensure our future junior weyrwoman knows how to fly? You wouldn’t be shirking your duty--only trading one for another.
Well, that was one way to put it.
While the weyrlings were practicing and able to fly, they still couldn’t leave the Weyr, and any flight had to be done with a supervised rider in tow. Just in case something went wrong, or the winds turned. The concern was less about the dragon being capable or ready and more about the rider falling into a panic or being gripped by fear.
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Posted: Mon Jan 20, 2020 2:50 pm
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Fianth's soft and warm return was received with a croon, and Mictecath peered over the fireheights, craning to see her mother. ~Let's meet in the bowl.~ Her voice carried a hint of an uncharacteristic tremble, excitement and love suffusing her words. She spread long wings and made a (somewhat less than) graceful landing in the weyrbowl below.
The question left Mictecath pensive. She turned her head towards their weyr, then crooned again. ~My rider will come. She is doing her best with her lessons, but I believe this is important too.~ It hadn't really been a question, and Nyaranau's mental protests were softened and silenced with a strangling, mental embrace.
/You could have asked, instead of just deciding./
~And risk you saying no? Of course not. Besides, extra flying practice is always good.~ Mic responded, turning violet-blue eyes once more in Fianth's direction.
Nyara gathered her flying gear and the straps she'd been repairing, bundling curls beneath a riding helmet. Well, most of the repairs had been done- at least at a basic level. She had wanted to decorate them with fancier stitching... But that was something she could do in her spare time. And maybe they needed oiling again, before their next lesson? She paused for a moment, considering putting her foot down on Mic's whims, but found that the lure of flying was calling to her.
/All right. I'm on my way./ |
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