Ahhhh! Real Drama [Open]

[Calingaladha]

Dusk in the jungle sometimes almost seemed peaceful. Insects chirped softly. Birds warbled. The felines snoozed in the shadows. The dragons screeched.

Or, at least. One dragon was screeching tonight, not having a care in who her bugling stirred, or who she projected her thoughts to.
I'll never be able to fly again! Oh, I knew we would some day be parted, but not like this! I'll be no better than a grub, flaming Thread from the filthy ground for the rest of my days!
The green dragon's cacophony could likely shatter Thread before it scored, and yet Garma tried to remain patient with her bonded, who sprawled in the most inconvenient place imaginable. Luckily, traffic just now around the Weyr wasn't too bustling.

"It is a thorn. In your foot. If that keeps you from flying, the Dragonhealers will have an enigma to last the rest of this Pass." Despite her best efforts, the greenrider sounded exasperated with the theatrics as she tried to get near the forequarters of the squalling dragon. The green, as usual, paid no heed to such vulgar things as logic and calm.

To have gone lame so young! Even the Weyrlings won't want to listen to such a clumsy beast! How could I ever teach them to stay safe when I was so imperiled so quickly?!

Vranath was writhing so much, her rider couldn't get near enough to help her, ensconced as she was in her drama, and the continued sting in her forepaw was not likely to abate soon, and neither was the performance.