Branwenth climbs up the ramp from the bowl.
Branwenth tromps up the ramp and enters the Weyrleader's Ledge, boldly uninvited. Nostrils flaring, she pushes into the great bulk that is Syrth. /Mooooooove/?
Arilynne trots after you trustingly and as the weyr is reached, she holds out her hands in a cupped fashion. "I knew it was here," she beams at the rider. "I was well-behaved, do I get my present now?" Aril, the girl with the one-track mind.
Kalona climbs up the ramp from the bowl.
Rh'esh anxiously climbs the ramp up to his ledge, where Syrth waits. Coincidence? Not really. Rh'esh climbs up to the bronze's shoulder and retrieves a packet from a pouch attached to Syrth's straps. "Yes, yes, this is your present. I was just waiting for the right moment... truthfully, I wanted to give it to you earlier, but the moment didn't seem right."
A minor thunderstorm makes its way up the ramp as well, noise emitting almost as fast as the unseen flashes of lightening. "Branwenth! Get /back/ here you bra.... NOT THE WEYRLEADER'S LEDGE!" Don't you know who's in there??? Kalona's face is one of abject horror as she reaches the enterance, breath shortened by her shouting.
Syrth snorts at Branwenth, nuzzling her away. It's his job to protect his rider, isn't it? Her bulk isn't as intimidating as his own, though, so he's able to prevent any disaster. "What? What is it?" Rh'esh calls, responding to the green as much as the shrieking greenrider. "Jays... Kalona, what's up? Here for a visit?" he teases.
Branwenth is noticed by Aril, the green looking vaguely familiar. "I know you, you're K-" and speak of the devil, look who arrives in a flurry of fury. "Kalona," she greets with a nod before reaching for the wrapped gift. "Ooooh, you mean I was trotting after you like a well trained puppy for nothing?" Aril's bribable, but she hates to look foolish for no reason. Still a gift's a gift.
Did someone say presents? Branwenth wants a present. Is it... Syrth? Eyes swirl in a rainbow of muted blues shifting to warmer greens. A delicate croon emits from her throat, impeaching the bronze. Be her present? Or move so she can find one?
Arilynne casts her glance from green to bronze and back to the green, her mouth dropping open in surprise. "I thought you said they didn't like each other," she gapes, eyes wide. "They sure look friendly." Turning to Kalona, the healer has the gall to ask, "Are you sure bronzes never fly Branwenth?"
Rh'esh chuckles at Aril. "No no, not for nothing. Maybe I like you trotting after me," he teases, before handing over the brightly wrapped sisal package. It's small... probably small enough to fit in both hands. Probably too small for Branwenth to enjoy, too.
Dragon interaction is forgotten in the midst of greed as Aril eagerly accepts the package in both her hands. "Can I open it now? Is it something pretty? It better be something pretty," she adds with a frown. "Something teal perhaps?" Beam.
"Eeeeew! Branwenth! You'll get /germs/!" Kalona's is just that much more horrified as Branwenth liiiiiiiiicks Syrth to prove that she does indeed like him. And he doesn't even taste like chicken. The only problem is that he isn't wrapped. Don't presents have to be wrapped?
Syrth is quite happy to be anyone's present, as long as that position doesn't require him to do anything. He likes Branwenth quite well, actually, and their companionship is much nicer than the companionship of their riders.
Rh'esh grins at Aril, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I hope you'll think it's pretty. And yeah, it's sort of teal... and other colors." Once unwrapped, the gift reveals itself to be a pair of tiny hair clips shaped like vtols, their wings crafted of stained glass. Indeed, there's teal in them, and purple, and luminous orange and yellow.
Kalona is determined to not acknowledge the weyrleader. She isn't here. Nope. Just came to fetch this obnoxious green away from his weyr. "Branwenth!" Her voice, a sharp grating hisssss, causes Branwenth to flinch. Stepping forwards, the rider moves closer to dragon and attempts to interpose herself between the bronze and green. Rather like the pathetic amount of filling in a normal oreo.
Arilynne obviously has no taste, because she squeals in delight. "Oooh, I love them Rh'esh!" And with that she rushes up to the Weyrleader and embraces him in tight hug. "How'd you know?" she asks, pulling back in order to fasten the gifts in her chestnut locks, pulling her hair back from her beaming face. "What do you think," she asks Kalona, posing for the rider.
Rh'esh can't help but notice Branwenth, and Kalona seems to be part of the package. "It's alright if she stays," he attempts, trying not to be distracted from Aril's unwrapping of the gift. As the young Healer puts them in her hair, he grins. "You look beautiful, as always. I'm glad you like them." He smiles wryly, waiting for Kalona's opinion.
Branwenth appears to be thwarted; inexplicably since the rider is much smaller than either dragon. Moving away from Syrth, her attention focuses on the bright specks glittering in the girl's hair. Now there's a present. Nevermind that it is someone else's present. Branwenth doesn't mind sharing.
Sulk. Arms cross firmly across her chest. She's not budging. Nope. Sulk. Emerald eyes rising to teal hairpins, "They're loveLYACK!," Kalona announces in a tone just passing neutral at first; then breaking suddenly into horror as the willful wraps her paw about the girl's waist. Rump colliding with the floor, Brawenth lifts another talon as if preparing to examine her newfound present.
Arilynne is blissfully unaware of Branwenth's covetous stare, instead, she preens herself under Rh'esh's admiration. "Wherever did you get them? Did you have them specially order- aiee!" Aril's suddenly grabbed as she preens and her wide, shocked eyes collide with whirling jeweled ones. "Wh-what's she doing," the healer asks in a panicked aside to the green's rider.
Syrth obviously has clear opinions about what's going on with the Healer, for as soon as she's snatched, he shifts closer, crowding the green to stick his muzzle in for a good whuffle. Appraising, that's what he is. Or maybe a touch concerned. "Jays, Syrth!" Rh'esh cries out. "Get out of there, you're going to tear poor Arilynne apart!"
Kalona coughs in shock at something unsaid before her eyes refocus on the entrapped girl. "She, ah... That is..." Thinking quickly on her feet, the rider swirls and jabs an accusatory finger towards the bronze. "He gave you to Branwenth!" That's it. Its always the bronze's fault.
Branwenth stretches out a long tongue to deliver another lick, her intended victim the girl this time. Croons continue to thrum from her throat; an aria of mirth. Outstretched talons moves to preen her gift's furring wrapping, stopping just short. A soft snort emits towards the bronze. If you're going to be /that/ way, she won't share the pretty. Besides, she smells far too lovely for a bronze. He'd just stink her up.
Rh'esh chokes. "What? That's absolutely ridiculous! Syrth, what is this business?" He glares at the bronze as well, who glares quite well back. Rh'esh's cheeks color slightly. "Well... I suppose he did. Oh dear." Now what is there to be done?
Arilynne blinks pleading, uncertain eyes at Syrth. "He what? Oh Syrth, how could you," she all but wails. Aril had a life envisioned for herself, and that didn't include being a green's plaything. Or did it? "Now I have to go home with Branwenth," she adds, heartbroken. It never occurs to Aril that she can actually decide that she wasn't Syrth's to give away in the first place. "This is your fault, Rh'esh!"
Branwenth definately wants her now! She will go home to play! Whirling orbs turn imploringly to the bronze. Yes?
Rh'esh appears heartbroken as well. "No no, she can't take him. Kalona, convince her to let Aril go. She isn't Syrth's to give!" Or is she? They've all been spending a lot of time in that weyr, and who knows what all goes on in there.
Arilynne, now covered in dragon saliva, attempts to look unappealing as she pleads with Branwenth, no one else coming to her aid. "You don't want me. I'm loudmouthed and weird, definitely weird. And... I /snore/." The last is added as a coup de grace, the healer convinced that lovely Branwenth wouldn't want a snorer in her weyr. "Don't I Rh'esh," she looks to the bronzer for backup.
Kalona is taken aback by Rh'esh's plea. Her form straightens, and then something deliciously wicked must cross her thoughts by the look of her face. Eyebrows rise, mouth smirks, a pinky finger is placed at lips edge and she sucks at it contemplatively. "Oh? /Really/?" Her voice is a sultry purr. Never miss an opportunity. Another of Kalona's many mottos.
Branwenth likes /weird/. She picked Kalona, after all.
Rh'esh laughs at Aril's confession, smacking his palm against his forehead. "Yes, it's true. She snores like a Lemosian logger. Or like a whole band of Lemosian loggers! Not even Branwenth will be able to get any sleep if she takes Aril back with her." Oh, now that's flattery! Rh'esh may just be in trouble when this is all over.
Kalona sniffs derisively. "I really don't see how that applies... You want Branwenth to let go..." Whatever it was that she was about to threaten is cut off as the green relaxes her hold. Still, the paw remains about the girl, threatening to reclose at a moment's notice. Faceted eyes fix firmly on the bronze. Make good. Now.
Arilynne beams at Rh'esh, for the moment satisfied with his role in her plan to extract herself from Branwenth's literal clutches. "And you look like a sensible dragon who likes her sleep," Aril cajoles, of course what sort of sensible dragon would entrap a poor, defenseless little Healer like Aril? "So why not be a dear and... erm..." wiggle "let me go?"
Rh'esh pulls Arilynne away from the green's clutches--no significant distance, so it isn't really 'safety,' but it's comforting, at least. "Hmm, must've been the snoring comment," he murmurs, still clinging to the Healer's hand as he gazes up at the green. Finally, though, he turns back to Arilynne. "Aril, dear, are you alright?" Don't make him pat her down to check.
Syrth looks innocent. Really. He didn't promise that he would make good on his promise /now/, did he? He tries out his best studly pose on Branwenth, puffing out his chest and opening his wings a fraction--unfortunately highlighting his sharp and barren ribs, not to mention his awkwardly jutting elbows and wingspars.
Arilynne is rather sturdy, and not prone to fainting - which is a good thing, and so she nods and cuddles close to the weyrleader. Hero worship is evident in her large eyes as she glances adoringly at Rh'esh, "Thank you for rescuing me." Not that being Branwenth's slave for life would be a fate worse than death, but well, Aril's given to melodramatic tendencies.
Branwenth doesn't take the bronze's failure lightly and moves to reclaim her gift. Rising once more to all fours, she lumbers with all the draconic grace she can muster towards the usurping bronzerider. Baritone rumbles break against the walls, indicative of her displeasure. For her part, the rider remains silent. If Rh'esh and Syrth wish to toy with Branwenth, all theirs will the punishment be. /She/ wants nothing to do with it.
Arilynne cowers into Rh'esh's form as the rumbling baritone of displeasure breaks around her. Quaking, she quickl moves to stand behind his strong form, or perhaps offer him up as sacrifice first?
Rh'esh blushes a degree. "Rescue? Oh, I didn't do that, much, really." Syrth is given a glance, and his lips thin to a narrow line. Well, he hasn't done much as of yet. As Branwenth moves in, though, he interposes himself between the Healer girl and the green. "No," he directs. "You can't have her. She'll--she'll Stand for the Hatching at Ista Weyr! Isabeth's and Nyssath's, she will!" He turns and grips Arilynne's shoulders. "You will Stand, won't you?"
Arilynne acks and erps and gacks at Rh'esh, trying to form a coherent sentence. "S-Stand?" Again? Branwenth is given a fearful glance and the Healer can do naught else but nod. "Of course I will." Course she looks a little less than pleased at being maneuvered into agreeing, but she pastes a bright, fake smile on for the green's benefit. Aril just resolves not to let her heart get involved this go 'round. Five sevendays isn't all that long...
Branwenth's protests burble immeidately to pleasure. That accomplished she snatches Rh'esh. Traded.
Arilynne blinks as Rh'esh is grabbed instead. "Oh wait, no, he's Syrth's," Aril tries to reason with the green. Plucking one of her new teal and purple and orange and yellow hair pins from her hair, the Healer offers it to the dragon in hopes of bartering for the rider.
Rh'esh is shocked and horrified to be torn from Arilynne. "What? What? Put me down! I can't--" He winces at Aril's offer. "Jays, Aril, the dragon won't be able to use those. She'll only break them or something." He glares up at Branwenth. "Put me /down/, I said!" He doesn't sound much like a Weyrleader from up here, does he?
Kalona's voice in a terrified chuckle, unsure as to whether this is some twistied victory or a miserious nightmare. "What do you mean Syrth gave him you?"
Branwenth snorts casutically at the bronze, then begins to turn. Finding impediment, she settles for dropping the rider in front of Kalona. Sit. Stay. Good Rider. Stay. Stay.
Rh'esh stays, shocked as he is at being snatched, then set at Kalona's feet. "Jays... I'm dizzy," he mutters, clutching his head, squinting a look up at Kalona.
Arilynne can do nothing else but watch the mysterious play going on before her. Syrth's tendency to give away people has now gotten him in trouble, and Aril's eager to see the outcome. "Hrumph, serves you right," she chides. Not that she doesn't empathize with Rh'esh, but well his dragon must learn manners.
Syrth doesn't have a 'tendency to give people away,' does he?
"And what," Kalona asks the green in a voice of deadly frosted calm, "Am I supposed to do with this, do you propose? Put him to washing my clothes?" Arms arc outwards from her body, hands planted firmly on her hips. Inconcievable!
Arilynne shakes her head at Kalona, "No, Rh'esh is terrible with laundry. His weyr all but stinks of sweaty clothing and rancid leathers." Washing is definitely not Rh'esh's forte.
Inconcievable indeed! "You're crazy," Rh'esh mutters, climbing to his feet. "And you're better off finding someone else for your laundry." He smirks at Arilynne. Oh so helpful, isn't she? No worse than what he said about her, though. "We can sort this out later, can't we? Arilynne has to be brought to the candidate barracks." Escape, anyone?
Kalona delivers an icy glare to both rider and dragon. "This /will/ be discussed later." And nodding curtly to both, then including the candidate, she stalks out.
Kalona heads down the ramp to the bowl floor.
Arilynne doesn't know what else to do, so quickly follows.