Extra Hours, Extra Gruff [OPEN]

[FirebrandPhlox]

"Keep it up Kobeth!" G'arp shouted as he threw another stone up in the air for the dragon to catch in his mouth. It was early evening, and the training session for the wing had long since ended, but G'arp and Kobeth were out in a training field, putting in additional work. G'arp was running about the ground below, hefting stones into the air for Kobeth to catch in his mouth.

G'arp, we've been at this for several candlemarks, maybe we can move onto another drill? The blue inquired as he snapped his jaws around the stone that had been tossed to him. He didn't want to let his rider down, but he was getting tired from all the darting around he was doing to catch errant rocks.

"Nonsense!" G'arp barked. "What if the higher wings miss thread and we need to cover for them? Or my arm is scored by thread and my throws are inaccurate? You need to be ready for anything, m'boy! Now get ready for another one!" He called as he arched back to launch another stone into the sky.

Wait, Kobeth replied, looking to the edge of the field. Someone is coming.

G'arp relaxed his body, shifting out of his throwing stance. "Good! Maybe one of those young'uns is coming to get some extra training in. One of them has to understand the value of hard work," he said, shaking his head. The younger generations of riders just didn't want to put in the same amount of work he did, which mystified him. They were supposed to be the protectors of Pern! Extra lessons and training after the wing drills should be the norm, for all he was concerned, but it was often just him and Kobeth putting the work in after the rest of the wing retired for the evening.

[Fel]

Xanneth, who was considerably too large to be carried around by now, trailed unwillingly after her rider. Exercise. There was nothing wrong with the concept in general, but they had been at it for... well, however long it had been, it was longer than Xanneth cared to. And her rider looked downright slovenly in old, rumpled clothing. How was anyone supposed to pay her the mind she was due when her rider looked like that?

My dear, don't you believe we have done enough? I am so tired, and I believe I am starting to feel hungry. I would not wish to strain anything. The Weyrlingmaster would be so displeased if we were to exceed my limits—

Oh quit whinging, you're fine. I can feel how not exhausted you are, and this is barely a hike! How are we supposed to be the most skilled slayers of Thread in our class if we don't put in the work?

Xanneth sighed, her gaze fixing on another dragon in the sky. Oh Faranth, must she be seen in public with this... bloodthirsty maniac? How was it that she still had not managed to convince Spensa to at least pretend to be civilized? Surely she wasn't asking too much; she didn't ask her to stop thinking gory thoughts, simply to cease verbalizing.

"Hey, what are they doing?" Spensa asked out loud, pointing. "Let's go find out! I've never seen anyone training quite like that, it's not a technique we had at Benden. Which probably means it's an inferior method of practice, but... well, maybe some useful things can come out of Fort. After all, I became a rider here, and I'm going to be the very best!"

Xanneth suppressed the urge to mentally roll her eyes. She was glad dragons could not in fact roll theirs, because she worried she may one day be caught being exasperated with her rider if they could. Better that they could keep up appearances of being a functioning pair, even if Spensa made no secret of her distaste for just about everything Xanneth stood for.

Spensa approached the rider, who was... old. Really, really old. Like "who let him keep fighting Thread?" old. Well, he must be good if he'd lived that long. Probably through the entire war, too.

"What's this training?" she asked, not bothering with pleasantries. Those were for schmucks. Soon everyone would know who she was due to her incredible prowess, and so it was better that she got used to not having to introduce herself. "And what's it got to do with the total destruction of Thread—and everything Thread has ever loved?"

[FirebrandPhlox]

G'arp looked down at the girl who was addressing him, she wasn't much more than a girl, but clearly a weyrling from her knots and the growing dragon trailing behind her. She was young, but she was taking interest in his training, which made G'arp shoot her a toothy expression that was somewhere between grin and grimmace.

"This, my girl, is my secret training regimen!" He barked with the force of a herdbeast. He gently tossed a large stone in the air, catching it in his hand and repeating the process as he spoke. "Kobeth and I practice agility. I throw the stone, he catches it in his mouth. It builds speed and deftness to prepare for any tricks thread throws at us, watch."

He hurled the rock high into the air, aiming it so it was directly above Spensa. With a snap of his wings, Kobeth dove and caught the rock before it could come too close to the weyrling's head.

My apologies, the blue said, landing next to G'arp. I'm Kobeth, and this is my rider G'arp. What are your names? The blue inquired, trying to be polite and not scare off the young pair.

[Fel]

"Tricks?" Spensa asked eagerly. Now this was the sort of thing she wished Lexien would talk about more in lessons! "I knew Thread had more up its nonexistent sleeves than just falling as the wind blew! What does it do? And how does catching rocks help? Can dragons bite Thread? Can I bite Thread?!"

Xanneth suppressed a sigh. Her rider truly was feral, and apparently was going to resist any and all efforts to be civilized. It was a shame, because she was certain she could lead if she only wasn't so... Spensa. The fact that her name alone was an adjective was just proof of how strong an indictment that was.

She looked up at the for now much, much larger blue dragon and, sensing that her rider was not about to concern herself with pleasantries, actually did sigh this time. I am Xanneth. The untamed child is my rider, Spensa. It is very nice to meet you, Kobeth. The garnet would have fluttered her lashes, if she had any. Being polite paid dividends, even if some people didn't realize it.

[FirebrandPhlox]

G'arp let out a barking laugh, amused by the weyrling's series of questions.

"We may be able to predict where Thread will fall, but don't think the damn stuff itself is predictable. The wind, the weather, all of it can make Thread fall in unpredictable ways. I've even seen it take on different colors! You and your dragon have to be ready to turn on a dime and flame to keep yourselves and your wingmates safe."

He picked up another sizable rock and began rolling it over in his hands. "You nor your dragon should bite the stuff, unless you want to lose your jaw,' he said with a chuckle. "No, this exercise is to keep my arms strong and Kobeth's wings swift. He catches the stone to make sure his aim is still true. Would you like to try?" He asked with a wide grin.

It is nice to meet you, Xanneth, Spensa, Kobeth replied politely, choosing to ignore the derogatory comment the garnet had made toward her rider. What is a young pair such as yourselves doing out on the training fields at this hour?"

[Fel]

"Colors?" Spensa asked, now somewhat dubious. This sounded like some Fortian made-up nonsense. Everyone knew Thread was silvery-white. Well, everyone from a proper, sensible Weyr at least, which Fort was not. Perhaps asking questions of a rider from this place was a mistake. But even if he was an inferior rider from a Weyr inferior to Benden, he was still a rider. An old one, which meant he was good at surviving things that had killed a lot of other people. "I've never heard of Thread being different colors before. It sounds like a heck of a story."

Truth be told, Spensa would rather try the strange form of training than anything else, but she shook her head. "Xanneth's still too young to be flying, so we can't try it quite yet. I could throw the rock for you two though, if you want. I want strong arms!" Strong arms, strong will, strong... everything. How else was she supposed to climb atop the piled corpses of her foes?

We are exercising, Xanneth told Kobeth, not letting on what a silly idea that was. Dragons could fly, what did the strength of her legs matter?

[FirebrandPhlox]

G'arp continued with his barking laugh. Oh, how he missed the spunk of youth. Spensa was a feisty one, and distrustful of her elders. Good, a rider shouldn't believe every fanciful story they were told just because someone older than them told it.

"Oh, I've seen it take on different colors alright. It happened only a few turns ago. Had folks flying wrong and missing strands with their flames. That's why we have to stay vigilant!" He leaned forward and smacked the stone he was holding tightly for emphasis. "There's no telling what other tricks the damned stuff could pull."

Exercising is good! Kobeth said, offering encouragement, not at all sensing that extra training was the sort of thing Xaneth was not eager to participate in. You never know when you might need to fight on the ground, or get your wingsail scorched by thread and be kept from flying. G'arp always says we have to be prepared for anything."

"That we do, m'boy!" G'arp said with his toothy grin. He held the rock out to Spensa. "Go ahead, start building those muscles and toss some stones for Kobeth. He's used to my throws, so a change-up will be good for him. But there better not be any whining about your arms getting tired after a few rounds!"