savatol3

I don't see why you won't listen to what she tells you. She knows what she's talking about. Pikarth told his rider, S'tol. The boy looked out from under his hair at the brown dragon for a moment before shrugging.
You know full well why I won't listen to her. She doesn't have a dragon Pikarth, she doesn't know what she's talking about. She just wants me to treat her like I did before-to not be all weird around her.
You shouldn't be all weird around her. Pikarth snorted. She's your sister, and you seem to care a lot about your family.
Not when they lie to me.
Lie? How did she, lie, to you? Pikarth still used that word like it was unfamiliar to him. S'tol supposed it was. Afterall, dragons couldn't lie, it wasn't part of who they were like it was for humans. S'tol sighed and patted his dragon affectionately. He still loved touching Pikarth, almost like the first day they had been together.
Sighing, S'tol leaned up in his chair and looked over at Testa, who was busy rearranging the shelves. It still baffled him why she seemed so eager to please him now, and not before. She didn't have to win his approval now, they were stuck together whether he liked it or not.
Don't say that. Pikarth whined, and rustled his wings. She knows you are angry with her, and is trying to make it up to you so you'll treat her like you did before. Doesn't that make sense?
No. S'tol snapped at his dragon, and was immediately sorry. Too late, Pikarth already took on that dejected look that he did whenever S'tol was angry with him, and he shut his eyes and curled into a little ball. It was the dragon equivalent of tearing, and S'tol felt so guilty.
"What's the matter with him?" Testa asked innocently, but she knew full well that S'tol had been mean to his dragon, yet one more time. She didn't understand her brother, she'd thougth he'd be so happy to have a family once more. And T'mar (their brother) was coming to visit with his blue in a sevenday...what would he think of this sullen boy who was their brother? As far as Testa was concerned, S'tol had no right to have Impressed a brown. A brown should be saved for someone who had a little bit of brains, and S'tol sure didn't show that he had any. He didn't even listen to her when she told him the proper way to cut harness straps! Didn't he know she'd lived in the Weyr all her life? And was a wealth of such information, all for his taking? Testa sighed and looked back at S'tol.
"He's fine." S'tol murmured, staring blank eyes at Pikarth. S'tol grappled with his demons while Pikarth went off to sleep. The brown would be fine later, after a good feeding and oiling, but something kept nagging at him. A restless feeling like all was not well. He looked at Testa. "Do you feel that too?" He asked her, hoping that she'd say yes and everything would be fine. What was the matter with him? Why was he thinking like this at all? It didn't make sense. He was going mad, and he was taking Pikarth with him.
"Feel what?" Testa asked, baffled at her brother.
"Nothing." S'tol said, shaking his head and feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Testa nervously went to his side, and placed her hand on his forehead.
"S'tol!" She exclaimed. "You're burning up with fever. Come on, let's get you to bed." And she grabbed his arm and started to drag him away.
"Pikarth..." S'tol mumbled. What would happen to Pikarth when he was sick? He couldn't leave the dragon for a moment, not after he'd hurt the brown's feelings. Was that the fever talking? S'tol tried to shake his head.
"No, I'm not sick." But he was already laying in his bed, how'd he get there? With his sister leaning worridly over him.
"It's escalating rapidly." He heard Testa say, and out of no where two other people appeared. "He was perfectly fine this morning, and within the space of an hour he came down with fever-and now he's almost delirious."
"I am not!" S'tol shouted, but he felt the words melting out of his mouth before he could utter them. The whole room seemed to be dancing around him, mocking him, trying to toss him from his bed. "Pikarth!" S'tol mumbled, and the brown dragon's presence was easily noticed.
I am here dearest to my heart, I will not leave you. You will be fine. And S'tol could feel Pikarth's loving energy coming through him.
"You're, not mad at me?" S'tol asked, hoping Pikarth could hear the jumbled words.
I can always hear you S'tol, remember? And no, I'm not mad at you.
That was the last S'tol heard for a very long time.