| T'tarav and Lessarth |
| "You don't understand Sh'lal, Draco's Inferno isn't that out of the way. We have to announce the clutch anyway, so it won't matter if Lessarth chases one of the..." "I don't think you understand." Sh'lal, wingleader of the Nusuru wing, and therefore in charge of T'tarav's weyr-related activities, said coldly and sighed. "You're an excellent brownrider T'tarav, and Lessarth is a large brown. You'd do better chasing a gold..." "And not catching her, instead of chasing the green that Lessarth wants and having a decent chance? Fardles man, you know Lessarth can't manuever that well since he was scored as a weyrling." "Who fault was that lad? You'd have done better to keep him flaming at the Threads, not diving right into them." Sh'lal asked, and was almost frightened by the smoldering look in the young brownriders eyes. "No, forget I said that, it's not important. If he can't fly as well, why fly at all?" "He fights Thread still Sh'lal, and he's capable of catching a green as long as she doesn't pull a lot of fancy tricks. You know that. He's got endurance, and I'll say that goes in his favour." "Most browns have endurance, that doesn't make them flight-worthy." "You'd deny him the opportunity to catch a female then? He wants it so...and this Barneyth he likes is a well bred female." "Clutched in a Cathair, she's not Weyrbred at all." T'tarav could see Sh'lal liked that not at all, but held his peace at the staunch wingleader's holdfast views of tradition, and continued on. "The Weyrleader would not approve of you holding back a willing brown from a flight. All the Weyrs are suffering from lack of males. Surely you'd do well to realize this will only help ease that suffering?" "Weyrleader? Pah," Sh'lal scoffed, "I should have been Weyrleader. My Thamath would have caught that troublesome queen too if his shoulder hadn't given out. T'rin doesn't know what it takes to be Weyrleader. He's too young...they're all too young nowadays. I remember when the position of Weyrleader was only open to the most experienced, the most able men..." "Funny," T'tarav said, "I always thought it was the queen who choose which bronze caught her, not by which bronze's rider had the most gray hair." "Of course the queen choose! Any bronze could compete, so long as his rider was worthy of the Weyrleadership. Save the lesser men for the lesser queens." "That's horrible." T'tarav said throatily, and looked down on the shorter man with a frown. "Listen, this isn't solving anything. We'll have to make peace with the fact we dont' see eye to eye, but I know you know it's not right to keep Lessarth grounded because the female of his choosing isn't a queen." Sh'lal made a non-commital gesture and then shrugged. "Let your good brown chase the unworthy then, who am I to stop you? Go by what our beardless Weyrleader says, and we'll see who turns out right in the end." Sh'lal stormed out of T'tarav's weyr muttering to himself, and the young brownrider smiled. Sh'lal could be a handful, and he'd had it in for T'tarav from the beginning. We're going? Lessarth asked hopefully, and T'tarav grinned to himself and looked over at where Lessarth appeared to be sleeping. Odd dragon. "Yes Les, we're going. Now this Barneyth..what's her rider like?" I don't really know rider, only that her name is Aemee and she is pretty. "You've seen her?" T'tarav asked, confused. He didn't remember ever meeting anyone name Aemee before. Of course not, but that's what Barneyth says. T'tarav rolled his eyes. Any dragon would of course compliment their rider. Lessarth would have it that T'tarav was the most handsome man in his wing. Silky hair, deepset eyes, muscular and all. Obvioulsy Lessarth didn't have it in for the finer nuances of human beauty. T'tarav was not handsome, but he wasn't ugly. He thought of himself as dignified looking, with the true deepset green eyes, blonde hair long enough to pull back when needed, but feel nicely about his shoulders when not, he was strong, muscular as Lessarth thought was important, and tall. His face was deeply chiseled, like his eyes, and to any who'd never seen him before he'd look cold, maybe uncaring and cruel too. But he was quick to make jokes, even quicker to laugh at himself when the situation demanded it, and was as kindhearted as any brownrider could be. "So when do you want to leave Les?" Now. The brown replied, and stretched his wings as he stood. Let's leave now. |
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