Impressed at Sparkul Weyr
"I know you do, Sineth. Let's get ready."
V'iper strapped down his riding gear, and climbed up to the tall dragon's shoulder. At one turn old, still barely a weyrling, Sineth was growing huge. He would truly be a magnificent brown, and V'iper knew he would soon be flying more than on a wing.
He'd been looking at both the greens flying in their wings at Seasparkul, but also at the golds!
"You've a high opinion of yourself today," V'iper said, laughing.
V'iper and Sineth glided down to the training field, where the last grounded class was taking place.
"Late again," the weyrling master grumbled, "but points for that landing. Get in your wing pattern, V'iper."
Smiling, and still on the dragon's back, V'iper and Sineth strode to their section near the wing-third spot. It was a spot that V'iper wanted. Or more.
We will have our wing, my rider. We will.
