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No Regrets; Tag; Pandi's S'akh
Topic Started: Sep 22 2015, 12:36 PM (196 Views)
Synn Fetale
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"If this is to end in fire, we will all burn together."
You shouldn’t take it so personally. T’ech and Tytoth were only expressing their concern for our safety, yes.

Synn’s eyes narrowed as she labored over a section of damaged leather. “They spoke to me as if I were a child!” she scoffed, too outraged to listen to the wisdom of her dragon. She continued to seethe as she worked the leather, cursing when it became apparent that the strips she had cut during the wherry attack would need replacing.

Colindith’s tail lightly swept the stone in front of his paws as he sat in silent contemplation and watched his rider retrieve the supplies she needed from the leatherworking crate. He thought he was a rather lucky dragon to have a rider who knew so much about leather. It saved them from needing to venture to the Craft Halls whenever a repair was necessary. Well, we are a rather young pair, yes. Just try to breathe and accept their reaction for what it was: an expression of concern.

Synn sighed, snipping a useless section from the straps, and then looked up from her little work station. Her shoulders were rigid and she gripped her tools so tightly that white showed on her knuckles. She was already mad and seeing the bandages wrapped around her dragons various injuries fueled her emotions. He and she had bleed for the expedition and what did they get in return? An unfounded scolding! “I’m just ready to be more!” she exclaimed, slamming her fist down on the table while trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Rumbling, Colindith stepped forward and pressed his nose into his girl’s chest in an attempt to sooth her. Be patient, Mine. No one becomes a leader overnight.

The woman let her tools lay on the table as she lifted her palms and ran them under Col’s soft throat. “T’vir did,” she said venomously despite her dragon’s attempt to calm her, practically quivering with irritation.

The black snorted and lifted his head away. Jealousy does not become you, he scolded, snapping his jaws shut in punctuation. T’vir earned his position. And you will earn yours. In time. Anyway, you will be late to your meeting with S’akh if you tarry any longer. Col ran his eyes over Synn’s dirty clothes. She hadn’t changed out of them since their brief expedition hours ago and while the healers had bandaged her wound there was still dried blood coating her sleeve and side. You should put on a clean outfit and go.

“Not till the straps are done,” Synn said simply and got back to work.
~
They would have been on time, if there had been more time. After Tytoth had called the retreat and the black pair returned to Vaioa, their first order of business had been to visit the Infirmary. They hadn’t been the first to arrive. Many others were also in need of attention and since their wounds weren’t lift-threatening they had been asked to wait.

In time they were treated. Only once Synn could sense no more severe pain from her Col did she agree to head back to their weyr where she promptly began working on repairing the black’s flight straps. The thought of being stagnant with her thoughts was unpleasant and Tytoth had instructed her to repair the straps before meeting with the Weyrleader, so that’s what she did.

Now, wearing a fresh outfit of dark leather adorned with her knots, she finally approached the Weyr’s Conference Room. The door was open, so she walked right in. “S’akh,” she greeted shortly, striding forward to where the man was. “I expect T’ech filled you in on the ‘situation’.”

Careful…

Synn brushed off her dragon. “Sir, I acted in the moment. It had been my only real option.” She almost begged him not to ground her for the opinion of the former Weyrleader, but stayed her tongue. “I saved myself and my dragon. I’m not sorry for what I did.” Her arms wanted to fold themselves over her chest, but she knew that stance could be interpreted as challenging and/or defensive. So she checked the motion and stood straight, tall, waiting for the Weyrleader’s reply.

Colindith exhaled a long sigh as he settled down in the ‘Bowl. The warm sand felt good on his belly and his muscles appreciated the chance to relax, but he took little comfort his physical coziness. His eyes were yellow as he fretted for his rider. He hoped she wouldn’t do anything to get them in more trouble. Synn was usually in more control than this and he wasn’t sure how to handle the woman now that she had been riled up. Hopefully S’akh could settle things.
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Pandion
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S'akh was tired. No, scratch that--he was exhausted. Getting rid of those 'snakes had taken far longer than he had hoped. Worse, before he had even gotten back and settled in, before he had gotten to see Allie, he was called away by T'ech to deal with a blackrider that had performed an absolutely insane stunt midair. With a long-suffering sigh, he glanced at the door, drumming his fingers on the long table. She was late. He was getting tired of waiting.

I still cannot believe a human jumped off her dragon, Inequith mused from his ledge, wings draped to his sides as he soaked up the sunshine. She does know that humans do not fly, yes?

I'm sure she's aware, S'akh drawled in response, leaning his head in his hand. We'll hear her side of the story. I've always said some of these Riders are all guts and glory, no brains.

Inequith rumbled with equal amusement and gentle chastisement.

That's not very nice, Mine!

S'akh nodded his agreement. No, it's not, he added. But I'm not feeling very nice today. I just wanted to see Allie and rest for awhile, but no... always something in this Weyr. Between food poisoning, entirely new continents, and blackriders cutting straps...

Never a dull moment!

He was about to reply that that wasn't necessarily a good thing when the door finally opened. He straightened up a bit, though his face remained sullen as he eyed the woman who stormed in to meet with him. Suddenly, his eyes widened a bit with recognition. This was the same woman that had very nearly demanded a role in leading the expeditions South. Slowly, his eyes drooped as she talked, and he let out a very long, very deep internal groan as he listened to her curt explanation.

No other option, she said. No other option but to cut straps and leap off her dragon. He looked her over for several long moments, looking much older than his twenty-some-odd years, before letting out a soft sigh and tenting his fingers.

"T'ech did make me aware of the situation," he replied at length. "His version may have been a bit... dramatic, as he was certainly very concerned by your actions, but I can't say I entirely disagree with him. Cutting straps is a sharding fool thing to do, especially in the heat of combat. Vaioa could have very well lost an excellent pair that day."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Shards, but he didn't want to fight this battle today.

"Still, I understand what it's like to make snap decisions in the air. Things can go badly very quickly, and we have to choose from the options we think are available to us," he continued. "I don't doubt that you considered this course of option best at the time. We very rarely act on poor decisions. Unfortunately, that option endangered not only yourself and your dragon, but also the rest of your temporary Wing."

She was only trying to save Colindith, S'akh Mine. Like you would save me!

Inequith. If I cut straps from you, I would be beyond dead. Insanely dead. Mostly because I'd wind up hitting you on my way down.

Oh. That's fair! I am quite large.

S'akh let out another long-suffering sigh.

"All that said, I believe we need to look into some additional training for you. I am not going to ground you entirely, as I do believe you are a talented Rider--" and Faranth knew that would just piss her off more--"but I do want you in holding pattern while we work on learning how to identify other options in high-stress situations."
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