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| Triss heaved a sigh, took a deep breath, and rushed to keep up with the other girls on their morning jog. She'd never thought of herself as out of shape before...before she met these weyrbred girls who took their physical condition very seriously. The weyrling master had recommended all the new riders find some sort of way to keep themselves fit, if only for their dragon's sake. Triss had found two-running in the morning with some of the other weyrlings, and doing twice as much firestone sack hauling as anyone else. She couldn't believe how many muscles had grown, seemingly out of nowhere. Don't run yourself ragged. Noriath warned, perched somewhere above. She was just beginning to use her wings, and as practice she was instructed to fly up to the heights for naps instead of just stretching out by the lake. Noriath didn't mind-the heights were warmer and all the other dragons were there. Not like the lake, which was crowded with the newest group of hatchlings which Noriath considered mere "babies" and unworthy of her time. Wasn't planning on it. Triss replied, and almost crumbled with relief when she saw everyone else slowing to a hault. That was it, two miles around the bowl, and enough of a workout for a rest day. But then again, dragonriders weren't really expected to have a rest day. Much of the reason they were given such generous tithes. After a quick thanks and drink of water, Triss was off to the smallish weyr-room that she shared with another girl and her dragon. They weren't old enough yet to rank a weyr of their own. "Enyala!" Triss saw the small form of the mute girl walking slowly by herself around the edge of the weyrbowl. Triss had doubts about that one, she seemed very odd. But Triss felt herself overcome with the urge to befriend the other girl, as no one else seemed interested in doing so. Enyala turned, and smiled slightly at the sight of Triss. With a flutter of graceful hand movements, that Triss was barely able to discern, Enyala started a conversation. Triss tried to keep up, practicing some of the movements herself as she spoke to Enyala. It helped her to learn them better. Sometimes Enyala's Claymeth would relay the words through Noriath as well, and Triss found that had her understanding hand language as fast as anything else. But Noriath was silent, so Triss assumed Claymeth was sleeping. Enyala asked Triss why she ran so much, working during "practice" was enough. Triss laughed, and told her, forgetting to sign, that she desperately needed to get in shape. Enyala's eyes darted over Triss's body, and she shook her head. 'You look in shape to me'. Enyala said, and then excused herself, saying that Claymeth was awake and needed oiling. Triss nodded and watched Enyala go. That girl was definately weird. At first Triss had been hurt when people were seemingly using their dragonets and weyrlings as excuses to get away from her, but Triss realized she did the same thing often enough, and after several very upset conversations with Noriath, she realized that no one was avoiding her. Of course no one would avoid you. Noriath said, Why should they? You're wonderful. Noriath crooned, and Triss could hear it from where she was standing. You're as odd as Enyala. Triss thought to her dragon affectionately, and decided to go in and have something to eat. |