Hanging out in the bowl with a big cup of klah and a setting sun providing an exquisite backdrop was Radagast, fresh from his bed with matted hair and smelling something fierce. Alatar would get onto him later for his grooming skills (or lack thereof) later, to be sure. His weyrmate was insistent on bathing him every other day at the very least.
Not that he complained. Wink nudge.
With his love still groggily dozing and his watch due to start shortly, Radagast was content to bask in the diming light with Radask. Who was, at this moment, approaching his handler with a very large stick that may as well be a tree trunk.
Throw! The blue dropped the thing at his feet and sat there expectantly. His tongue lolled from his mouth. Radask was certainly a mutt in a past life. Even his butt wiggled! Throw stick!
"You expect me to lift that up?!"
Throw now! Radask jumped to all fours and let out a rumbling half-bellow, leaning onto his forelimbs with anticipation.
Ohhhh! Radagast set his mug aside and used all his strength to heft the thing up and toss it - just a few feet. But that was enough! Radask scooped it up and pranced around in high steps around the weyrbowl to flaunt his victory!
Radagast sighed, and sat, and picked up his mug -
THUNK!
Throw!