"For once, my Mother seems proud of me!" B'nar conversed to his bronze with a sigh.
She has alot to be proud of you for! We've mastered flying, not risked timing it... yet.. Tinarth confidently told B'nar with a draconic smile, We've made it from Southern and back /Between/ and haven't gotten lost yet!
"Yes, you are right. I'm glad she was there for the Hatching, how long ago that seemed! I do have to admit, your sense of direction is abit frightening to me, but I at least know I'll never get lost." B'nar said and lifted his head off the hard rush matress and surveyed his quarters with a nod. He had gained the rather large weyr of a bronzerider (which he was now) and looked out to the ledge where Tinarth lay, sunning himself. They led a happy life at Istabitha's Weyr after the Impression. Which was so long ago. Now Tinarth's eye seemed to be on a certain gold...

"I'm not too sure if I want to time it." B'nar said cautiously, sometimes Tinarth took an idea to far. Like the time B'nar said jokingly (right after lunch) that he was still so hungry he could eat a runnerbeast .. well, when he got back up to his weyr, there was a whinning, neighing wide-eyed runnerbeast prancing around scared and a proud Tinarth looking in the window. He'd have to be careful what he said around Tinarth or teach Tinarth some common sense.
Ohh. Now I'm itchy! Please help me! Where is one of those annoying little flyers (what Tinarth called firelizards) when I need one. Darned things.
B'nar briefly wondered if his mother really missed him before getting up tiredly and fetching a bottle of smeely oil off the top shelf and wandering out to Tinarth's ledge to scratch and smooth his ailing lifemate.