Rude.
Yuiryth held no qualms about scooping up her rider and dumping him into an unceremonious heap into the wide, opened ledge where the warm ever-circulating bathing waters poured over the threshold as a waterfall. And by 'heap' we mean ... splashing down. Into the pool. Buck ass naked.
You smell, the green scolded. Her wings swept backwards, allowing her to hover within sight of all those who might already be present. It's unseemly. And the weyr stinks something awful - as if Molift wasn't enough.
The green fire-lizard in question made an aggressive dive for the dragon's face. Yuiryth snapped her jaws, narrowly missing the nuisance. Another day of survival for the sour little wretch ...
"I am FINE the way I am, you pain in the rump!" shouted L'ndrah indignantly. He thrashed the water, red-faced with a tantrum. "There was nothing dignified about how you handled me just now!"
You need to bathe! You'll attract bugs. Do you know how many runnerflies I've swatted off my hide this morning alone?! Not to mention you'll become ill with whater Faranth-awful bacteria is lingering on your fingers and ... Draconic eyes bolted downwards in several quick, successive bobs to indicate his nethers. ... I've heard it will fall off if you don't clean it. Horrible! Scrub it clean too, please!