-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Wings of Steel Date: February 10, 1996 Place: Benden Weyr's Southern Bowl Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: And one and two, and one and two! The Weyrling dragons get their first jazzercise lesson, learning to build up their wing muscles for flight, and the Weyrling humans get a spot of entertainment in the form of the ever-interesting interaction between Kerlyn and Sionelle. A shame no one thought to sell tickets. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: You move through the opening to the west, heading into the bowl. Meli salutes Kerlyn. T'lar walks here from the north. Kassima salutes Kerlyn and Sorath. Aphrael salutes Kerlyn, quietly pulling her jacket around her. L'nay salutes Kerlyn curtly, smiling as he does so. T'lar salutes Kerlyn. Nicoth comes out of the weyrling barracks. Nicoth warbles at the others. Brynarth backwings for a landing. Tyrrath lumbers here from the north. Aphrael salutes Sionelle as she moves to stand by Prefeth. Meli turns and salute Sionelle as well, with a brief "Evening" Flannery climbs down from Tyrrath's neckridges, stepping lightly on the lovely forelimb. She smiles and pats her lifemate lovingly. T'lar salutes the arriving riders. He stands off to one side with Nicoth. Aphrael salutes Flannery too. Flannery returns all salutes, then gallops smartly to Kerlyn's side. L'nay salutes Flannery and Sionelle sharply. Kerlyn returns the barrage of salutes with one of her own parade ground precision. That done, she stands with her hands clasped behind her back, in front of a bored looking Sorath. "Good evening." she greets quietly, "I understand this part of the wing is due for their introduction to muscle building excercises?" Sionelle steps briskly over toward the clustered group of weyrlings and dragons, returning salutes with crisp replies. She nods once to Kerlyn, tucking her helmet under her arm. "Good evening. P'tran requested that Brynarth and I attend weyrling lectures." Kassima salutes Sionelle, Brynarth, Flannery, and Tyrrath as well. "Good eve," she says, and nods to Kerlyn. Meli nods. "Ma'am, yes ma'am. Been havin' them out skatin' some, but nothing formal." Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Dragon aerobics?" Benden Weyr> F'laav << Come on, weyrlings, keep those tails up! And one... and two... and one... >> Benden Weyr> Kassima gahs as T'lar's words conjure up a vision of dragonets in sweatbands and spandex. Flannery clasps her hands behind her back as well,rising and dropping on the balls of her feet. She listens to Kerlyn attentively, nodding to salient points. Benden Weyr> Caitria chuckles at Kassi. Benden Weyr> Elyandra says, "Weyrling aerobics, Fi?" Kerlyn shakes her head briskly, "Playing on the ice may help overall coordination, but it will do little to.. " her voice trails off and she blinks, once, at Sionelle. With one brisk nod for the other bluerider, she turns her attention back to the weyrlings. her new stance proves that it was, in fact, possible for someone to stand more rigidly than she had been doing. "They need to build up flight specific muscles before they can possibly begin to fly." She summs up succintly. Tidranth backwings for a landing. Sionelle just frowns a bit, and slaps her gloves into her helmet for safekeeping. This is so sharding pointless. Meli stands somewhat stiffly herself, hand resting on Juliath's side, staring ahead with an unreadable expression. Flannery glances toward her lifemate just as Tyrrath is alternately stretching and flapping her right wing, each stroke sending a fresh breeze through the area. Tidranth backwings fluidly to a landing in an area away from the crowd. His rider doesn't dismount, but sits, watching the antics curiously. Flannery gives Tidranth and his rider a nod, then turns her attention back toward Kerlyn. She opens a small hidebook and begins to scrawl notes. Aphrael nods slowly, smiling up at Prefeth, then salutes F'laav on Tidranth, not even sure he can see it but doing it anyway. Kassima gives Tidranth and F'laav a salute before turning her attention back to Kerlyn. Kerlyn half turns, so she can see both Sorath and the weyrlings. After a faint rumble, the blue extends his wings. "Here, you can see where the muscle groups for flight are. If your own lifemates extend, you should be able to see that those groups are as yet fairly undeveloped. So far, they've used their wings for little more than flapping in agitation, or splashing each other." Nicoth extends his wings in imitation of Sorath. His lifemate moves out of the way. Prefeth eyes the older blue and slowly unfurls his wings as well. Aphrael walks closer to take a look, comparing those of her lifemate's with Sorath's. Palinth croons softly, and obligingly lifts his right wing into the air, allowing L'nay to examine the musculature beneath. Juliath rumbles as she extends her own wings proudly. Not much muscle, but aren't they just beautiful? Meli nearly cracks a smile as she looks. Lysseth spreads her wings in an imitation of the others, allowing her lifemate to peer at them. Tidranth cocks his head, and extends his own rather ample wings. Sorath rumbles softly, and his chest seems to grow slightly in proportion to the number of eyes on him. Sionelle stares at her blue dragon as Brynarth raises his wing dutifully, dwarfing the class of smaller dragons with its sail. She blinks once or twice, then just turns away in amazement. Every weyrlingmaster, former or not, would agree that it's not good to roll your eyes at your dragon when he's in earnest. From Tidranth's back, F'laav mutters to his lifemate, "Showoff." Palinth extends his other wing, spreading them to their full forty-five metres. L'nay chuckles. Dragon> Brynarth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << How old are these weyrlings? >> Dragon> Juliath bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << We have six months! >> Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Brynarth ohs. << Hi, too. Is this channel IC or OOC? >> Flannery's head tilts to regard the smallish, still-juvenile underwings of the young dragons. She catches the eye of one weyrling and smiles softly. Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << Yes. >> Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << IC mostly I think. >> Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Lysseth adds, << Almost seven, actually. >> Kerlyn smiles a little, but with her next breath all evidence of it is gone. "It might seem slightly paradoxical that the muscles which develop with flight need to also develop before flight, but that happens to be the case. In order to strengthen muscle groups for their real purpose, there are a number of strength training excercises possible." Her eyes pass over the class looking for one in particular, "Draconic pushups, if you will." Dragon> Sorath bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << IC >> Nicoth looks over at Palinth and opens both of his wings. He warbles proudly, he is bigger. Dragon> Zibrith bespoke Benden dragons with << These weyrlings are huge! Some are already larger than me! >> Aphrael quirks a grin, Prefeth rumbling curiously. Palinth spies Nicoth's glance and cranes his neck over, snuffling amusedly, knowing that he is more massive. Meli nods, stepping back a few paces. Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden dragons with << :sorries. But you are a green. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Sorath croons softly to Zibrith << Most are, pretty one, but a large green could not fly so well as you do., nor give such skillful chase. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Juliath rumble-croons at Zibrith << Small is good. Fast and agile. >> Dragon> Palinth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << And no green is so smart as you are, Zibrith! >> Flannery grins crookedly at Kerlyn, leaning back against Tyrrath for an instant before remembering her official stance and bolting upright once more. Nicoth settles his wings closed again at a unspoken command. Sionelle clears her throat, cheeks a bit pink, and pushes away from the largish rock where she'd placed herself in order to lean with a more entirely bored and put-upon look. She steps beneath Brynarth's wing, dropping her helmet and tucking her hands behind her back, and looks up at his flight muscles. One finger taps quickly against the other hand as Brynarth rumbles his approval at her cooperation. From Tidranth's back, F'laav glances over at Sorath and Kerlyn, catching the blue's eye for a moment, nodding, and unstrapping himself. Dragon> Zibrith bespoke Benden dragons with << Why are you sorry, Nicoth? You'll be chasing soon enough. And I can bet you'll be much slower than the browns that are gifted in catching. Just ask Chaeth! >> Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden dragons with << I meant no offense, Zibrith. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tyrrath rumblehisses at Palinth. F'laav slides down from Tidranth's back, landing in a crouch next to him. Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Palinth rumbles apologetically. << I am sorry, Tyrrath. I meant no offence. You are a wonderful green. But Zibrith is my lifemate's weyrmate's dragon, and she is so helpful when I have questions. >> Juliath gives her much smaller wings a good flap before she neatly closes them and croons. Kerlyn indicates her dragon with a gentle touch to one of his forelegs. She does her best not to notice Sionelle, and to a certain extent, succeeds. "From now on, you and your lifemates will be doing the excercises we're about to show you twice a day, along with your own excecise. They go in sets, three repetitions of twenty of each excericise for now. That will build up as they start to fly." L'nay glances up at Palinth, who is stretching his wings out as far as he can. The brown looks down at L'nay, eyes whirling merrily, and finally folds his wings again, snuffling his lifemate. Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Tyrrath warbles softly to Palinth, a bit mollified. Lysseth rustles her wings before folding them to her sides once more, rumbling slightly. Kassima grins at her lifemate, then turns her full attention back to what Kerlyn is saying. Prefeth lets out a soft rumble, wings furling for the moment as he keeps his eyes on Sorath. F'laav stands, arms crossed, next to the flank of his rather imposing lifemate, who in turn is watching Sorath attentively. T'lar stands on the side of Nicoth away from the other weyrlings. He is paying attention to Kerlyn only. His expression is closed. Sorath continues to keep his wings extended. Kerlyn looks back to the weyrlings once more, "This is the first. They hold them out for a slow count, then lower them for a rest, then extend again. The idea is that in a glide, this is exatly what they'll be doing, although there the air will both put pressure on, and support, their wings." T'lar raises his hand. "How long of a count, ma'am?" Meli nods again, listening stonily, waiting to hear Kerlyn out before she has Juliath do anything else. Her eyes flick over at T'lar's question, then back to Kerlyn. Zibrith lumbers here from the north. Tidranth has not retracted his sixty-plus meter wings yet, from the first demonstration. The bronze looks like he's quite content to hold them there all day, if need be. The sails of Brynarth's flawless green-blue wings extend out over his lifemate's head with a ruffle of perfectly taut membrane. He holds the spars easily aloft, parallel to the sand. Sionelle rubs at her forehead with one hand. Nicoth warbles apologetically to Zibrith. Palinth backs slightly, allowing himself greater freedom of motion for his wings, and begins to mimic Sorath, quickly following in time. L'nay eyes his lifemate, seems about to say something to the brown, and finally sighs and turns back to Kerlyn. Zibrith moves close to Tyrrath, laying down in a snowdrift to watch the weyrlings. Sorath lowers his wings, then after a pause, extends them again. He continues to hold them out, whirling eyes on the class, then lowers again on his rider's nod. "That long." Kerlyn replies. "The time will get longer once that is no longer a challange." T'lar nods and glances at Nicoth. Flannery nods crisply to Tyrrath, who quickly extends her wings to second Sorath's demonstration. She cranes her neck, some small popping noises wafting across the bowl, along with a deep, satisfied rumble. Nicoth extends his wings fully, but not over-extended. He holds for the proscribed amount of time, maybe a bit longer before closing them again. Kerlyn inclines her head to the class, "We'll do this evening's set right now." L'nay chuckles and glances at his lifemate again, who rumbles, and continues to extend his wings... and lower them... and extend them again... Zuseth comes out of the weyrling barracks. Maarie comes out of the weyrling barracks. Aphrael nods quickly, turning to watch as Prefeth slowly extends his wings, holding them for a beat, then lowers them, holding for another beat. His eyes whirl a happily blue-green. Tyrrath having finished cracking her neck cranes it toward Zibrith and wuffles her affectionately. Lysseth rumbles and steps back a step, watching Sorath and extending her own wings experimentally. She remains in this position for the proscribed amount of time, before lowering them and repeating the exercise. Sionelle's voice finally cracks out in the crisp bowl air, as her annoyance with her dragon's incessant silent commentary finally becomes a bit too much. "I don't KNOW what the purpose of this is. If I did, I'd tell you. And you'd BETTER be able to hold your wings up that long, so stop carrying on about it as if you're some sort of..." She stops, and trails off, then reaches down to pick up her helmet, retucking her gloves away. For safe keeping, remember? Zuseth rumbles and thinks she can get the hang of this. Meli tilts her head a moment, eyes on Juliath now. The small green extends her wings as directed, holding them out parallel to the ground, eyes slowly whirling. At Meli's silent instruction, she starts the set as well. Zibrith lifts her head to whuffle Tyrrath in return. F'laav cocks his head, glancing over at Sionelle with an expressive raised eyebrow. L'nay glances over, spotting Zibrith. He beams, and begins to wave, until he sees that the green isn't looking in his direction. Nicoth continues extending and resting, in groups of three. The period of rest after the third a bit longer. He holds the wings extended a little longer with each set. Dragon> Juliath bespoke Prefeth, Nicoth, Palinth, Lysseth, and Zuseth with << This will let us *flying*?? I do not understand completely. >> Aphrael smiles and waves at Maarie, "Hi, you're just in time for this evening's exercises." She points to Sorath, who is doing the demonstration. Zibrith lays her head back down on the cold ground, admiring the weyrlings. Brynarth simply tucks his wings to his back, implacably, and then reopens them, continuing the exercises. Sionelle raises her eyebrow back at F'laav in irritation. Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << It will. If we do it right and often enough, we will be stronger. >> Lysseth> I bespoke Prefeth, Nicoth, Palinth, Zuseth, and Juliath with << My lifemate says it is to get our wings ready for *flying.* How this is so, I do not understand at all. >> Dragon> Palinth bespoke Prefeth, Nicoth, Lysseth, Zuseth, and Juliath with << My lifemate has tried to explain it to me. He says that we must do this so we will be able to fly. I don't understand how. He just says to trust him. >> Tidranth rumbles a greeting to his own clutchsisters as he continues to demonstrate the exercises in question. Kerlyn's head swivels around and her eyes fix on Sionelle. Her voice is quiet, but it carries. She's been practicing projecting is, apparently. "The point is to stregnthen weyrling wing muscles so they don't strain or tear in flight. Your participation is welcome, but not required, should you choose otherwise." She turns back to the weyrlings. "-Only- the count I gave you. No more." Her eyes fix on T'lar. "The dragonhealers have more than enough work already." Dragon> Prefeth, Nicoth, Palinth, Lysseth, and Zuseth sense that Juliath rumbles softly << I will do it anyway. Are my wings not beautiful for all to see this way? >> Dragon> Prefeth bespoke Nicoth, Lysseth, Zuseth, and Juliath with << I will do this if it will help me to fly. Even if I am *confused* why also. >> Dragon> Palinth bespoke Prefeth, Nicoth, Lysseth, Zuseth, and Juliath with << Indeed they are. You have very lovely wings. Much lighter in colour than mine. >> T'lar glances up at Nicoth. "Just the way you're supposed to, nothing more. You'll get sore muscles if you keep this up. Zuseth carefully mimicks the older dragons but looks to be getting bored. Dragon> Tidranth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << Nicoth, if you Hurt yourself, it will be longer until you may Fly. >> Meli keeps a close eye and thought on Juliath so that she will do the exercise correctly, trying to explain what it will accomplish. Nicoth lowers his head to regard his lifemate. He warbles a sigh. Flannery bounces a quick glance between Kerlyn and Sionelle, her brow arching momentarily. She then trots over toward Tyrrath, patting the great green hindlimb as she stands in the shadow of an extended wing. Sionelle smiles back to Kerlyn, inclining her head in acknowledgement before the assistant weyrlingmaster can turn away. As soon as she does, though, the smile disappears. She's not in the habit of continuing pleasantries with overly officious, stuck-up, condescending little snips of blueriders so full of their own dubious authority they'd have trouble stuffing down a bubbly pie any longer than absolutely necessary. Nicoth looks at Tidranth and warbles an affirmative to some remark. Lysseth dutifully continues the exercises, spreading her wings carefully. She watches the others and copies their movements. Dragon> Tyrrath bespoke Benden dragons with << My rider wishes Brynarth's rider to express what she is really feeling, without holding back anything. >> Nicoth's head whips around to regard Sorath and then hangs dejectedly. Benden Weyr> Elyandra ROTFL! Benden Weyr> Kassima munches her popcorn contentedly. Yep, this is *much* better than the movies. :) Dragon> Palinth bespoke Benden dragons with << My lifemate thinks that Brynarth's rider has made her feelings clear already... >> Sorath rumbles once more, in Nicoth's direction, before folding his wings neatly, thumping to the floor. Apparently he's quite finished demonstrating this one. Tidranth doesn't move much, just a slight sitting up just /so/, and curving of the neck just /so/, and suddenly the normally playful dragon looks every handspan the Noble Bronze as he rumbles agreement to the smaller Nicoth. Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Brynarth's mental rumble carries well in a strong and confident baritone. << I am well-equipped to deal with my rider's feelings. While it is true, younger riders should not keep their feelings inside, since it might upset their young dragons, with time, they too will learn to help soothe their sometimes irrational mates. >> Prefeth continues to extend and lower his wings, perhaps with a little pause longer than necessary before each one. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tyrrath looks perplexed for a moment before replying, <<My rider has explained to me that she was being something called 'ironic', Palinth, though I will have to think further on this concept.>> Satisfied that Juliath has the hang of it, Meli takes a moment to stretch a bit as well, loosening up her own developing muscles, though she does so implacably. Brynarth's wings fold neatly to his back as the demonstration ends. He watches Sorath alertly for the next exercise. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Palinth rumbles. << My lifemate has tried to explain this 'ironic' to me before. It is when I tell him that he and I are perfect for one another. >> Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tyrrath looks even more perplexed. Dragon> Benden dragons sense that Tidranth rumbles, emphatically. << Humans can often be irrational, Brynarth. It is part of why we are Right for them, that we should be able to help them through their irrationality. >> Kerlyn's chin comes up, and she shifts again, so that she doesn't have to look at the too-confident, pushy and meglomaniac bluerider she now devoutly wishes had stayed back at High Reaches. "Now, they'll need to do more than glide. Different muscles are used for beating the wings than are used for holding them aloft. In order to work those, you use this excercise." She touches Sorath's leg again. Tidranth furls his wings amid a rustling of sails as he watches Sorath for the next exercise. Sorath extends his wings again, but this time raises them fully up, then brings them down once more fully outstretched with the wingtips touching the snow. At their highest, they have an angle of about a third of a circle between them. Meli watches a moment, then finally speaks. "Should they hold 'em up at the peak a moment, or jus' bring 'em right back down?" Nicoth carefully puts his wings through the exact motions that Sorath is doing. Prefeth folds his wings back greatfully, eyes on Sorath as he demonstrates the next exercise. He rumbles softly, the very slowly attempts it. Zuseth follows Sorath's example meticulously. Varquith comes out of the weyrling barracks. F'laav glances at Sorath, nods once, snaps a salute to the group, and more directly to Kerlyn. He turns, and walks northward, leaving Tidranth to demonstrate the next exercise. The large bronze demonstrates with vigor, adult sails sending breezes around the snowfield as his wings move. Tyrrath extends her wings with a mighty *foop*, then lowers them to the snow. Feeling the chilly white substance against her warm green wings she jumps a litlte, raising her wingtips ever so slightly. Varquith romps out of the barracks, coming to a halt nearby Kerlyn. Palinth furls his wings briefly, rolling his shoulders a bit to loosen them, then mimics Sorath again, lifting his large wings high in the air, then back down. L'nay rubs a hand along his forleg, smiling faintly. Kerlyn snaps off a salute to the departing F'laav, then inclines her head respectfully to Varquith. Aphrael shivers slightly as the beating wings send cold air and snow drifts flying. Tidranth's wings make a *whop* sound as they travel through the downward portion of the stroke. Sorath continues to slowly raise and lower his wings. His eyes scan over the weyrling class, and low amused rumbles escape as he ponders Tidranth, Brynarth and Tyrrath also participating. Varquith ignores all respectful head-inclining, and promptly flops in the snow, rolling on his back with his tail in the air. Meli shrugs ever so slightly and asks Juliath to begin the exercise, watching the others for the rhythm. Juliath moves her wings smoothly and quietly, managing to keep them from touching the snow. Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Sorath croons gently << More slowly. Speed will come in time, byt my rider says this excericise is not a fast one. >> Cerilla comes out of the weyrling barracks. Lysseth eyes Sorath, and then copies the exercise slowly. Kassima steps a little farther away, trying to avoid both her lifemate's wings and the wind coming from them. Flannery salutes Cerilla as she arrives, then returns to her note-scrawling. Nicoth continues to raise and lower his wings in imitation of flight in a slow and even pattern. He watches Sorath closely to time the strokes. Meli turns her head and salutes Cerilla, then turns back to watch Juliath without waiting for a response. Aphrael salutes the Weyrlingmaster, then turns back to keep a watchful eye on Prefeth as he slowly a little, wings moving up and down. Cerilla spares her lifemate a disparaging glance before making her way to Kerlyn, her gaze watchfully passing over each dragon in turn. She returns various salutes here and there crisply. Maarie salutes from where she stands near Zuseth. T'lar salutes the Weyrlingmaster. He stands with a hand on Nicoth's forelimb. Kassima salutes the Weyrlingmaster before turning her gaze back to Lysseth, murmuring a comment or two to her lifemate. Sionelle leans back against her dragon's side, arms folding across her chest and lips curving down in a forwn as she ponders the tilt of Kerlyn's chin, all from beneath the rising and falling canopy of her dragon's fings. It really is a bit too sharp, that tilt. Somebody's got a bit of superiority complex. In the course of Sionelle's pondering, Cerilla strides into her view, and she straightens up with a nod, but no salute. Kerlyn turns, at the flurry of salutes, and on noticing the weyrlingmaster, snaps off a sharp one of her own. "Good Evening Weyrlingmaster. We've been working on some of the pre-flight excercises." Tidranth swings his head around to rumble a boisterous greeting to Varquith. L'nay salutes Cerilla sharply, then chuckles as Palinth *snorts*. He murmurs softl;y to the brown, nodding. Varquith cranes his neck upside down in the snow, warbling cheerily to Tidranth. Tyrrath warbles softly to Varquith, then resumes her focus on her wing exercises. A rumble of relaxed delight shows her unexpected relish at all this stretching and flexing. Cerilla points a finger at Varquith, "That's enough out of you." She turns to Kerlyn with a nod, speaking softly to her as she looks over the Weyrlings. Her gaze stops on T'lar for a long moment. Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Uh oh. GodRilla is after me." Tidranth peers at Varquith for a long moment, wings stilling and tailtip twitching in the snow, almost like a feline ready to pounce. Juliath continues her exercises, eyes on Varquith occasionally. Damiana strides through to the infirmary, her eyes searching. Prefeth pauses, shaking out his wings for a moment to rid them of the gathered snow, then continues, eyes roving over the dragons. Flannery watches Tidranth with an quizzical expression, then eyes Varquith. She glances up at Tyrrath and pats her, chuckling softly to herself. Varquith is laying on is back, blissfully unaware of both Tidranth's twitching and Cerilla's disapproving looks. His tail sweeps from side to side in the snow, idly. Kerlyn follows Cerilla's gaze, then shakes her head slowly. With another, slightly more self-concious, intake of breath she lifts her voice again to address the class. "This excercise has the same sets and repetitions as the last. In the next, a more circular motion is added." As she's done speaking, Sorath begins to roll his wings in a vaguely awkward looking excericse that could almost be a series of draconic shrugs of the wingshoulders. Maarie sighs and scritches Zuseth, "I know it gets boring, but you have to do it if you want to fly." Damiana heads north. Nicoth looks puzzled and watches Sorath for a long moment. He glances down at T'lar for reassurance before trying this one. He looks comical with his first attempts. Zibrith lumbers north. Tidranth's leg muscles coil to pounce... and then relax reluctantly as Sorath begins another exercise for him to demonstrate. Tyrrath commences rolling her shoulders in imitation of Sorath, small piles of snow collecting by her forelimbs as they sweep along the snow. Meli gives watches this one, head tilted to the side a bit, then asks Juliath to rest a moment, wings closed, before starting the rotations, which the green does with mixed results. Lysseth continues her exercises, watching the others impassively. She turns her gaze to Sorath and slowly mimics his movements, eliciting a slight grin from her lifemate. "If you practice," Sionelle mutters to her blue, tone pithy, to say the least, "Some day you too can roll around in the snow like a deranged firelizard too." She turns away from the entire class scene, kicking at the snow lumped up around her blue. Brynarth imitates Sorath almost exactly. Tidranth does as Sorath does, though his gaze strays toward Varquith. Palinth stops and stares at Sorath for a long moment, before beginning to roll his wings around, plowing small clumps of snow over his lifenate's boottops. Tyrrath sweeps a heap of snow along toward Brynarth's hindquarters, piling up a drift against the blue behind. T'lar pats Nicoth's forelimb. "Keep trying, you can do it. Don't give up just because you don't think you can." Nicoth warbles and keeps trying. Each attempt is better than the last. Cerilla turns, staring at the snowbound Varquith. "Nice example you're setting, Lump. The least you could do is do the exercises *with* the Weyrlings." Zuseth begins to roll her shoulders slowly, making sure her wings collect enough snow to dump on Maarie. Prefeth watches carefully for a long moment, eyes straying to the other weyrling dragons to see how they cope. Slowly he starts the exercises, letting out a slight rumble as Aphrael tries to keep from grinning. Varquith begins to shrug his shoulders as the Weyrlings are doing, though he's still upside down in the snow, flat on his back. His tail sends bits of snow flying around as he rumbles amusedly. L'nay breaks into a chuckle, eyeing the snow that now threatens to cover his boots. "Yes, Palinth. You are doing this well. You *do* catch on fast." Kerlyn's eyes narrow just slightly in Sionelle's direction. Life just isn't fair, when the weyrleader's suggestions cause more havoc for the weyrlingmasters than the apparently uppity rider they were probably intended to quash. "Remember, take it slow and easy. If you overstrain muscles now, you'll be all that much longer on the ground while they heal. Weyrlingmaster Cerilla knows what she's doing, and the excericises you are assigned will be all you need to accomplish the rest of your training." Flannery peers around Tyrrath toward Varquith, her hand flying to her mouth. Meli, who had stepped back from the dragons at the start of all this, watches impassively, though her lip does twitch a bit as she watches the older dragons, and sees Juliath trying very hard not to dirty her wings on the over-trampled snow. Maarie occasionally brushes snow from herself as Zuseth has found a new game to play while excersising. 'Bury the lifemate' Cerilla gives a disgruntled snort in the direction of Varquith, and turns to regard the exercising dragons, arms firmly crossed. She begins to walk between each, watching form. "You will be doing this for the next month or so, daily, to gain strength. Dragons who do not develop sufficient strength end up getting injured, and merely delay flight." With that, she gives T'lar and Nicoth a long look. Kassima tries not to chuckle as she watches the antics of the larger dragons, and succeeds admirably. Lysseth rumbles at her lifemate, not sure exactly what's so amusing. Benden Weyr> T'lar says, "Nicoth is gonna go sulk. He only wants to be the best. :)" Cerilla points towards the overly-amused brown Varquith, "And ignore that." She resumes walking between the dragons, and soon comes towards Sionelle. Dragon> Benden Weyrlings sense that Sorath erps and has to idle a moment. Sorry! Sionelle sniffs once in the chilly air of the bowl, and crouches down by Brynarth's tail. The little snot of an assistant is probably thinking she's got it tough. You can just tell by that self-pitying 'life isn't fair' look on her rather homely face. Well. How would -she- like to be stuck in a harper class full of babies, being told to re-learn how to read? Especially by an upstart harper with no -real- experience. Tugging once on her bootlace as she stalwartly ignores the class, she looks up as the tips of the weyrlingmaster's boots stand toe to toe with her own. Kassima finds Varquith rather hard to ignore, but makes the attempt, watching her lifemate as Lysseth continues the shrugging exercise. Cerilla arches a brow, looking down at the bluerider. With an amused tone to her voice, she remarks, "Now.. I know you aren't one of my Weyrlings." She glances at Varquith, then back to the bluerider. "Sionelle? You were Weyrlingmaster at... High Reaches, wasn't it? Transferred here have you?" Nicoth whuffles his lifemate. Flannery takes a step forward, lacing her fingers in front of her. She watches the weyrlingmaster warily. Varquith resumes his shrugging exercise, head arched to get a topsy-turvy view of the Weyrlings. J'lor walks here from the north. Prefeth stops the exercise for a moment, peering down at his lifemate. A kind of argument seems to start up, with Prefeth finally, if reluctantly, resuming the exercise. T'lar salutes J'lor. Kassima looks over from Lysseth to salute J'lor briskly. L'nay snaps a salute to J'lor. Meli takes a long look at J'lor, seeing he's not wearing little heart covered boxers this time, and gives him a salute. Nicoth returns to his exercises. J'lor returns the salute, among any other forthcoming salutes. Benden Weyr> L'nay salutes J'lor's PANTS. :) Lysseth> I bespoke Prefeth with << Why did you stop? >> Sionelle stands up slowly, wiping her hand on her hide pants before offering it to Cerilla. 'I was," she says with no trace of echoed amusement. "And yes. I transferred to Benden not long ago." She hesitates, shifting from foot to foot, then adds, "Weyrleader P'tran requested that I attend classes as well." J'lor hopes he's not interrupting. Maarie glances over Zuseth's neck and manages a somewhat visible salute. Aphrael watches Prefeth carefully to make sure he'll continue, then turns slightly, saluting J'lor. Dragon> Prefeth bespoke Lysseth with << I do not understand.. she was *amusement* at me. I did not like it. >> J'lor returns the salutes and smiles. Flannery smiles as she snaps off a little salute to J'lor. J'lor's saluting arm is visibly larger than the others what with returning salutes :) Lysseth> Prefeth senses that Lysseth rumblechuckles. << If it makes her *amused* to see us like this, let her. My lifemate says these exercises must be done; what we look like when we're doing them doesn't matter. My own lifemate is very *amused* but this makes her *happiness.* >> Prefeth cranes his neck to peer at Lysseth, rumbling in amusement as he watches. Cerilla frowns thoughtfully, taking the proffered hand in a firm shake before speaking. "Really. Nice of him to let me know..." She shrugs, "Well, I've no objection. I assume he thinks this is a good fast way to get a feel for Benden?" Juliath somewhat tiredly returns her wings to their resting position, whuffling softly, breath frosty in the cold air. Nicoth stops his exercises. His hide steams lightly. Dragon> Prefeth bespoke Lysseth with << You look.. weird. But *amusement*. Thank you for the advice. >> Sionelle takes a moment to properly frame her reply. It's a short moment, though, thus the awkward frame. "Either that or he thinks we're in need of remedial training." Varquith flips back over... well, as much as a 37m dragon can flip at all, and lumbers to his feet, snow sticking in clumps to him. Lysseth rumbles at Prefeth in return, continuing the exercise doggedly though she looks slightly tired. J'lor watches the dragons exercise, noting their impressive sizes, and smiles to himself with pride. Cerilla snorts softly, crossing her arms. She watches the weyrlings as she speaks, common behavior for her. "I highly doubt that... he probably offered it as much because of your previous expertise. Every weyr has different standards for training, as much for environmental factors as for anything else." Lysseth> Prefeth senses that Lysseth warbles. << You are welcome. >> Prefeth finally brings his head back around, whuffling Aphrael for a moment after coming to a decision and continues to roll his wings, probably looking weird but no longer caring. Cerilla speaks lowly to Sionelle, "Excuse me for one moment." She speaks up, raising one hand. "All right... now the last phase of excercise for the dragonets is for them to support your weight on ground. Every day you will do your normal exercises, the dragonets will do theirs, but when travelling about the bowl, you will now ride on your dragons. Understood?" Meli steps over and gives Juliath a hug, leaning against her smooth hide. "Good job, m'dear" she whispers. She straightens at Cerilla's words, eyes brightening a bit. Maarie nods. Zuseth stops rolling her shoulders and whuffles Maarie curiously. Aphrael smiles up at Prefeth, then turns with a smile and nod at Cerilla. T'lar's light up. "We get to ride?", he says softly. He slaps his lifemate happily. Kassima blinks and smiles brightly. "Aye, ma'am," she says happily, grinning up at Lysseth, who rumbles to her lifemate. Cerilla adds, "Make sure your dragons get plenty of time in the springs after exercising, to relax sore muscles, and tell me if any muscle pain or soreness develops." L'nay beams up at Palinth as the brown lowers his wings a final time and rumblesighs. Palinth eyes L'nay for a long moment, head tilted to one side curiously. Sionelle slips a sideways glance at Benden's Weyrlingmaster, sizing her up while her attention is on her charges. She snorts softly in response. "I'm sure we'll be able to meet your standards," she replies once Cerilla finishes speaking. "Eventually." In the skies above, You notice a few feathery flakes begin to fall. After a few moments it is snowing lightly around you. Lysseth gratefully folds her wings with a slight warble, snorting at some of the falling snow and blowing it towards her lifemate. Zuseth sticks out her tongue, trying to catch a snowflake. Maarie simply rolls her eyes and scritches Zuseth's eyeridges. Meli gently removes Alluire from her forearm, setting her down softly. Cerilla either doesn't notice Sionelle's mood, or chooses not to acknowledge it. She nods to the bluerider, "I've no doubt of that. After you get a feel for what we're doing here, how we differ from High reaches, feel free to lend a hand." With that, she turns and moves to the front of the group again. "I don't need to remind you all that muscle or wing injury at this stage will result in delayed flight. So be careful, and don't let your dragons overwork." Alluire flitters over and perches on one of Juliath's neck ridges. Prefeth peers up at the sky, rumbling happily, with a gleam to his eyes. He surrupticiously starts to build a snow pile, until Aphrael gives him a sharp look. Palinth rumbles and arches his back once before flopping in the snow and snorting a cloud of wet flakes at his lifemate. Cerilla comments dryly, "Of course, letting hot muscles lay in cold snow--" She eyes the frolicking dragons, "-does nothing to help prevent injury." Crossing her arms, she watches sternly. J'lor excuses himself. S'klin walks here from the north. Zuseth rumbles slightly in dismay as Maarie nudges her toward the springs. Zuseth lumbers in the direction of the shimmering lake, leaving the South Bowl area of the Weyr. Maarie heads in the direction of the shimmering lake, leaving the South Bowl area of the Weyr. L'nay scowls at Palinth... but can't help but grin at something. The brown whuffles disappoitedly, and rises to follow his lifeate to the hot springs. Flannery salutes Cerilla and Kerlyn, then the weyrlings, before nodding to Tyrrath. Flannery steps gently on her Tyrrath's graciously extended forelimb, swinging herself into her accustomed seat between two sturdy green neckridges. S'klin disappears down the tunnel that leads out of the Benden Caldera. Benden Weyr> L'nay hugs all and bamfs, but is going to the hot springs to bathe Palinth. Really. Tyrrath takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her aloft. Sionelle watches Cerilla walk off, one eyebrow lifted just a little incredulously. Lend a hand? -Lend- a -hand-? She's not only supposed to relive her weyrling days, she supposed to LEND A HAND? She frowns again, and folds her arms. Meli lifts a brow as the others go. "Should we try ridin' them now, or when they've not been exercisin'?" Cerilla shrugs, "Up to you. Riding them now works different muscles, and doesn't involve the wings at all, so you are free to." Aphrael smiles at that, and turns to look at Prefeth, questioningly. Varquith finally stops acting like a 2 month old dragonet, and lumbers up behind Cerilla, rumbling softly. Prefeth rumbles softly and crouches down, eyes whirling happily. Aphrael throws her arms about Prefeth, and there they remain for a moment, rider and dragon, attuned to each other. Aphrael slowly releases her hold on the blue dragon with obvious reluctance and climbs up onto Prefeth's neckridges. Meli climbs smoothly up Juliath's extended foreleg and settles herself between the neck ridges, as the green gives a welcome rumble from deep in her throat. T'lar smiles from his perch. Kassima grins and waves up to Aphrael. Nicoth warbles happily. Brynarth lifts his head to regard Varquith with a silent perplexity. A greeting no doubt pases between their minds. Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << This is nice. Riders are supposed to ride. >> Benden Bowl> Kassima climbs up to Lysseth's lower neckridges with the aid of her lifemate's thoughtfully offered foreleg. She gives Lysseth a fond pat on the neck once she is aboard. [Editor's Note: I assume I decided to save the mounting message as seen from the ground for posterity, and snip the message as seen from Kassi's perspective for redundancy. Never let it be said I was a more logical person at fifteen than I am now.] <*> From Prefeth's neckridges, Aphrael grins and leans down into her lifemates neck, waving down to Kassi. <*> Juliath gives a sort of quiet bugle, happy at this new development. Dragon> Varquith bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << You were not big enough for riding before. >> <*> Juliath lumbers north. <*> Prefeth cranes his neck around to watch Aphrael, rumbling happily. Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << I was as big as the others before, why is now different? >> <*> Varquith rumbles softly at Brynarth, his placid blue eyes regarding the blue dragon for a long moment. <*> Juliath lumbers here from the north. <*> Astride Juliath, Meli finally brooks a smile, obviously pleased at the feeling of riding her lifemate, the two acting as one. Dragon> Varquith bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << We had to let your muscles and bones grow enough so that they would be strong. You may have been big, but you had not yet developed enough. Now you are. But not for flight. Not yet. >> <*> Astride Prefeth, Aphrael absently leans forward and brushes dusts of snow off Prefeth's back. <*> T'lar says "Can we go bathe them now, Cerilla?" Dragon> Nicoth bespoke Benden Weyrlings with << I will wait. >> <*> Lysseth turns her head to whuffle Kassima, pleased, and then gazes at the others. <*> Cerilla nods, "Of course you may. Let the dragons relax a bit in the springs too, or their muscles will tense up." <*> Prefeth lumbers over to gaze at Lysseth, then Juliath. <*> T'lar nods. "Yes, ma'am. <*> T'lar salutes the Weyrlingmaster before heading for the Hot Springs. Kassima nods and gives Cerilla and the others a parting salute before patting Lysseth's neck and giving her the go-ahead. <*> Juliath rumbles again, moving off proudly if a tad stiffly. <*> Juliath lumbers in the direction of the shimmering lake, leaving the South Bowl area of the Weyr. You lumber in the direction of the shimmering lake, leaving the South Bowl area of the Weyr.