Thread falls. he said calmly, but it will fall all on the ocean. Garionth relayed, walking unevenly towards his rider. Two wings go to make sure none comes ashore. the brown continued, looking at his rider. We are to return.
Garionth grew stronger by the day, and the bond between dragon and rider grew ever so much closer. Like G'rin, T'gre's talent also became more manifest. It was odd, but the forewarnings were always nice. Like the time someone almost walked in front of Garionth right before a huge belch of flame escaped him...
T'gre knew he and Garionth were special, but didn't know how they would fit in a normal weyr-structure. Would T'gre's talent cause a problem? T'gre lay on his back in the damp grass. Garionth lay curled in a hollow a few paces away, sleeping soundly, and blissfully unaware of T'gre's worries.
A tingling sensation passed over T'gre, causing him to sit up. As suddenly as it began, it was gone. After a moment, Garionth began to stir.
Thread falls. he said calmly, but it will fall all on the ocean. Garionth relayed, walking unevenly towards his rider. Two wings go to make sure none comes ashore. the brown continued, looking at his rider. We are to return.
T'gre rubbed the back of his neck and started towards the Weyr. They were a 20 minute walk away, but it was quiet here, and Fall days (whether over ocean or land) were rather unstructured for those too young to Fly. Garionth wasn't following. T'gre turned and looked at the coppery brown. "I thought you said they wanted us to come back."
I did.
"Then why aren't you coming?" T'gre asked, walking back to his dragon.
I want you to ride. the brown said. The Weyrlingmaster said we are strong enough now to carry you.
"I don't have my riding gear, Garionth." T'gre siad, running his hands over his brown's neck.
We won't go Between T'gre. Garionth said, lifting a foreleg. You ride; I'll walk.
T'gre climbed up and sat between Garionth's neck ridges. The weyrling was larger than the biggest draft runnerbeast T'gre had ever seen, but was still very comfortable to sit astride. Garionth began to walk back towards the wer, trotting from time to time. T'gre was comforted by the slight swaying of his lifemate, caused by the dragon's movement.
Just wait until we can fly!
T’gre perched on Garionth’s neck as the pair sped through the skies. If Garionth was a feline, he would have been purring for sure. “LEFT!” T’gre called, and the brown spun on wingtip, complying instantly. A green zoomed down past them, snapping her wings open at the last second. The small group of draogns flew together one last time. Today, T’gre and Garionth returned to East Rock.
Tiyanni and G’rin, T’gre’s cousin, met them when they arrived. Riders didn’t transfer to Ryslen often, but when they did, it was a minor feast day, welcoming them home to East Rock, even if they hadn’t been there before.
It had become well known in the past turn or so that G’rin had a talent other riders didn’t. The Misty Mountain Wing was porud to call him one of their own. It was also known that T’gre had a the same sort of talent, and it was also widely debated which wing would get him. When Tiyanni informed him of this, T’gre smiled. “I’ll end up in whichever wing suits Garionth and I the best.” Tiyanni had grinned, hoping that the “Best” wing’s leader approached her or J’kosh before presuming to claim this bright young rider.
Days passed, and still no wing assignment. Garionth and his rider flew about in the air above the bowl, keeping in practice. It wouldn’t do to be less agile or less swift.
Abruptly Garionth veered sharply to the left, as T’gre instructed. Nadornth and Im’mel appeared from Between mere feet above where Garionth would have been, had he not turned, plummeting toward the ground. Im’mel crowed like an idiot. Are you happy now? Nadornth said sourly.
You bet. Im’mel shot back, happy.
T’gre beat Im’mel to Tiyanni’s office. Kerli was already there, and very angry. How dare a WINGLEADER do THAT on HER watch?!
”Is Sxoith due to rise, Kerli?” Tiyanni asked the normally pleasant greenrider. Kerli became very quiet.
Im’mel walked in. “A very irresponsible choice, Wingleader.” J’kosh said, folding his arms across his chest.
”Yes, Weyrleader, but I had to test T’gre. His cousin swears he has talent, but there has been no proof. Nadornth and I have proved it.” Im’mel said by way of explanation.
”And if you’d been wrong? You put two browns in considerable danger and someone could have been killed.” Tiyanni scolded.
”Yes, Weyrwoman, but no one was. Finding out that T’gre could not predict danger (as G’rin so obviously can), would have been worth the injuries. I weighed the outcome carefully.”
J’kosh scowled. “You should have asked me.”
Im’mel bowed his head, “My appologies.”
Tiyanni nodded. “Appology accepted.”
”Weyrwoman Tiyanni, Weyrleader J’kosh, I would like to formally request T’gre and Garionth for the Crimson Blade Wing...”
T’gre’s grin was nearly enough to prove his acceptance.
”... but not as a rider – as Wingthird.” Im’mel concluded. Tiyanni looked to T’gre, whose eyes about popped out of his head.
”I’ll take that to mean you accept, T’gre. Congratulations Wingthird.”
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