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| M'han & Shibboleth |
| I speak! I speak, I speak, I speak! Not only has the Weyrwoman here, Baeris, taught Aescha and I to read and write—oh, heaven!—but I have Shibboleth. I speak to the world! <<I think you may talk a little too much, my M’han,>> Shibboleth retorts, but her glorious eyes are merry with blues and greens. Her odd, regular patterning of white dots stands out handsomely against her jewellike red hide. She is the daughter of the speckled dragon who Searched Aescha and I—Califath. Most importantly, Shibboleth is my voice and my soulmate. The Healer says that I truly am incapable of regular speech—there’s too many things wrong with my throat, mouth, and vocal cords to let me talk as I have wished to do. But when Shibboleth chose me as her Rider, she also lent amplification to my strong-mindedness. It is not her ‘translating’—as long as she is awake, I can make myself heard. I can’t remember much about the Hatching—only the moments when Shibboleth was talking to me are really clear. Even Aescha’s Impression of the long-winged Aderynth is vague. Shibboleth tells me, in no uncertain terms, that we shouldn’t make our home at the Healing Den, and I will believe her. We are on the lookout for a new home. *** We’ve been on the move a long while, Shibboleth and I, and Weyrhopping for months. Long enough, in fact, that I’m beginning to taste a distinct edge to the spangled reaches of her contralto. She is, definitely, female, and Baeris told everyone that was compelled to leave whether or not their dragon would be fertile. Shibboleth, she said, was. My lifemate is all flamboyance, all glitter and verve; my opposite half in most ways. By all rights, her will be an…interesting flight. But I must find a Weyr to stay in, at least for her clutching! <<There’s word from the Den that there will be a flight just for riders who ride dragons of the opposite sex,>> Shibboleth suggests, out of the blue. The sour briskness of wood sorrel taints her worded facets, and I nod hastily. {Whatever you want, Shibboleth. Just go easy, will ya? And make sure that…ordinary-extraordinary dragons like you are still allowed. You know the way?} <<A dragon such as I never forgets her way, even if they /did/ move my hatching place off the map,>> she replies arrogantly, and gives me a sharp mental nudge. <<We’re going now. It’s going to be a long /between/, my M’han, so don’t panic. You’ll have me signed up in a jiffy, I’m sure.>> {And I’ll talk to Baeris first, of course?} <<Fly first, talk later,>> answers my dear lifemate, my lingual key, my Shibboleth. |