Emig reclined against Liranath as the dragon lay curled on the ledge, eyes first-lidded as she soaked up the setting sun. The elfin green rider reposed in the hollow of her dragon's foreleg, her curly head resting on the muscular shoulder. There was a beatific smile on the rider's face, and an aura of immense content surrounded the pair. And what wasn't there to smile about? Their new weyr was much bigger than their old small greenrider's quarters at Tiazora - why, it even had its own bathing pool, instead of a shared one at the end of the hall! And here, with Liranath now two Turns old, Emig was a fully-fledged dragonrider. A weyrling no longer. That meant she would be assigned to a fighting wing, and all the training and hard work that they had done would pay off when they flew out to fight Thread.

Liranath yawned hugely, her jaw joints cracking, and turned her head toward her rider, eyes spinning idly green with shades of yellow. Your mind is always so busy, she said in her gentle, clear voice. You should try just enjoying the sunset without thinking.

Emig laughed and reached up to tickle her green's eye ridges. "Can't help it, darling. M'cail always said I could never light anywhere."

The pair's companionship was shattered by the piercing cry from Lamorath as she settled onto the feeding grounds at the onset of her mating flight. Liranath rose to her haunches, suddenly agitated, her tongue flicking in and out between her teeth. Emig was tumbled unceremoniously to the ground; she clouted her dragon on the shoulder as she rolled back onto her feet. "Thanks a lot!"

Liranath shifted and swung her wedge-shaped head from side to side, her claws clicking on the stone. Abruptly, she said to Emig, I don't want to stay here. Come down to the lake and bathe me. I'm all dusty from the flight.

Emig, oblivious to what was going on, nevertheless shrugged and pulled herself astride Liranath's neck ridges. "Let's hurry up, then. It's warmer here than at Tiazora, but no telling what the temperature'll be after the sun goes down."

Ywain was waist-deep in cool water, scrubbing Pranath's bright green hide, when Lamorath's wild mating call echoed through the valley. The former warrior frowned in the direction of the feeding grounds, her eyes half-obscured by the thick black bangs that fell down her forehead. Her shoulder-length hair was sodden, her short tunic clinging to her, but none of that mattered. Until the dragon's bugle, she had been communing with her dragon, and when she did that, it was as if the rest of the world didn't exist. It was the only thing that kept her at peace, this quiet reveling in her soul-bond with Pranath.

As she peered beneath the curve of her dragon's soapsanded neck toward the feeding grounds, Ywain wondered which dragon it was rising, and whether she knew the rider. Was she in her weyr at this moment, awaiting the suitor who would claim her, whether she willed it or no? Or was she hiding? Ywain's thoughts drifted back to her dragon's innocently teasing comment of that afternoon. What if Sevofth catches me when I rise to mate she had asked.

Now, with the setting sun reflected like flame in Ywain's dark eyes, she thought, I would kill him if he touched me.

Fortunately, that day was a long way off. Pranath was a weyrling still, half a Turn away from maturity. And when that inevitable day came, Ywain would face it the way she had always faced adversity: proudly and fiercely, without fear. She would fight.

But she kept these thoughts to herself, lest she disturb her dragon. Still, the mating call and all its implications set her on edge, so that finally Pranath protested her scrubbing. My hide is not Thread, to be flayed off me, she said reproachfully, turning one large eye on her rider.

In the midst of her apology, Ywain heard the rush of wings and a resounding splash as another dragon landed further out in the lake. This was followed by a spluttering and coughing, and then a cheery hello, and more splashing as the rider swam back toward the shallows. It was Emig, she could tell from the voice. The child greenrider, not responsible enough to comb her own wild curly head, much less care for a dragon. Ywain ignored her and moved to Pranath's other side to get at the dragon's flank.

"Hellloooo, Ywain! Are you deaf?" The girl-child reached precociously up to pat Pranath's shoulder. "Hello again, Pranath. You're looking well!" Ywain gritted her teeth; her young dragon had the audacity to croon at Emig.

Stop encouraging her, she snapped at Pranath, who blinked and looked wounded.

Emig slogged to her side and stopped, panting. "So, wow! Here we are at Kharasi! Liranath just had to come down for a bath, you know, I told her it was going to get cold soon, but she would insist. Where's your weyr? How do you like it so far?"

Ywain clenched her jaw and moved away, down Pranath's tail, giving extra care to the area between the bony ridges. Emig watched her, astonished. "What - what's wrong? Did I say something to upset you? Don't you want us here?" She sounded indignant. "Everyone can bathe at the lake, you know. And you're all alone. We landed here because we thought you might want company."

"I'm not alone," Ywain muttered. "And I like my privacy."

Out in deeper water, Liranath let out a long, low call, which Pranath answered with a happy warble.

Emig blinked and bit her lip. She was doing it again. Every time she wanted someone to like her, she started to babble. M'cail said she would always end up driving people away if she kept it up. In that infuriating way he had, he was right. But she couldn't help it! Everything about the world was so vivid and exciting; she could never understand how people could enjoy being rude, or depressed, or angry. And she did like Ywain, even though her dragon was younger. Ywain was tall, and strong, and soooo confident, and older than she was. She'd even heard that Ywain had grown up to lead an army, before she gave up her claim to become a dragonrider. Tears flooded her violet eyes, which Emig blinked back hastily. She so wanted Ywain to like her, and she very much doubted that the older girl would approve of tears. She'd think them weak, and Emig was not weak.

So she set her jaw, and called Liranath in, brandishing bristle brush and soapsand. "Well," she continued resolutely, "We won't take long. Liranath's not a big green, and we wouldn't want to intrude on your privacy for too long. But you should be nicer to people, especially in a new place. They might have to watch your back for you one day, fighting Thread."

Ywain gave a disbelieving laugh. For a second, she struggled to contain herself, then let it go; the tensions of the day, in not saying what she wanted to say to K'jin, were too much. She lashed out. "The day I have to count on you to save my hide from Thread is the day I get scored to death." She saw the hurt on Emig's young face and for a second felt terrible, but her anger was mounting, and she continued ruthlessly anyway, in a cold voice. "Why, I'm surprised you're bathing your dragon at all. I've seen you at Weyrling classes - or rather, not seen you. You skive them off every chance you get. I wouldn't even put you in a wing, if I had the choice, and I certainly don't want you in mine."

The brush slipped from Emig's fingers and fell into the shallows. She stared at Ywain, her eyes stinging with tears, but her body numb from the spiteful insults the older girl was hurling at her. And they weren't true! Sure, she'd skipped some Weyrling classes to take Liranath out to hunt. And maybe she should take better care of her fighting straps. But why did Ywain have to be so cruel? Nobody else had ever come down on the way she cared for her dragon, and it just wasn't fair. She loved Liranath more than anything, and that made Ywain's words cruel and unjust.

Emig burst into tears. "You're so horrible, horrible!" she sobbed, hiding her face in Liranath's foreleg. The half-soaped dragon crooned worriedly and bent down to nuzzle her rider. "I love my dragon, and I care for her more than anything in the world![/i] Eyes and nose streaming, Emig glared at Ywain. She was shrieking now, loud enough to startle the wherries in the pens into limited flight, loud enough that her voice was cracking. She didn't care. "You just wait - you think you're so good. One day Liranath and I will save you from Thread, and when it happens, you just remember today."

With that, she ran for the shore, tripping over the forgotten brush and sprawling face-first into the sudsy water. Choking and sobbing, Emig scrambled to her feet and ran and ran, across the Bowl and toward the warm refuge of the Lower Caverns, hoping to hide herself in a dark corner of the kitchen cavern. She was cold all over.

Back in the lake, Ywain ignored a surge of remorse and shook her head grimly. "Didn't even finish cleaning her dragon. How typical. Stick around, Liranath. I'll scrub you."

But the lovely brindled green had already moved off toward the deeper waters of the lake, where she submerged all but her nose and her glowing eyes, letting the sand soak off, humming worriedly to herself over her rider.

Kiskith blinked one eyes open as she looked over at the feeding the grounds, well, she certainly liked attention didn't she and- What was that? Oh it was just Lil'Bit, how not interesting! She wanted to, to play! Where was Hers? Hers would play, yes she would, or she'd at least pay attention.
Mineminemine! Come play with me! In the lake, the little ones like the lake as well! Raising herself slightly, her wings ruffled, oh she did want to play! Where was Hers? Why wasn't she coming?
I'll meet you there. Oh, well, that made sense. Well, alright then. Shaking her head slightly as she took off, as long as Hers promised to meet her down there.

Lyra ran a hand though her hair, trotting off to meet her green, Flier lay around her neck, head resting on her shoulder. Lil'Bit would choose to stay with Kisk, as she knew Lyra would come down. Still, who's green was rising? Did she know the rider? Did it matter? Not.. Really-

She stumbled as she ran into someone, hands reaching out to grasp the other rider so she could see her.
"Sorry, should have been watching." Lyra mumured politely, only then seeing the tears on the other girl's face. A sympathetic noise came from her throat, and she pulled back slightly.
"Oh, are you alright? What happened?" Her voice was gentle and soothing, the same voice she used when coaxing Flier or Lil'Bit, and on occasion Kiskith. The brown on her shoulder tilted his head, moving closer to her by crawling down onto Lyra's arm, wrapping his tail about the limb and stretching his neck out to the girl. Why on Pern was she crying? He didn't understand... Not really, His didn't cry lots, he'd never seen her cry anyway... Odd. Was she hurt? Was that why she was crying?

Kiskith landed gently, on the shores of the lake, giving a greeting to the two greens closest to her, one seemed upset, and now Hers was saying she'd been delayed... No fun!

Lyra's kindness was all it took to send Emig over the edge. For a split second, she stared up at the taller girl, her dark eyes enormous and haunted, her lower lip trembling as she fought a brief, losing battle for self-control. The next moment she was shaking with sobs, burying her face in her hands, her thin shoulders heaving. Not given to bouts of self-pity, Emig was nevertheless the image of misery, hunched over herself just outside the Lower Caverns.

Gradually, she became aware that she was making a scene, and that the other girl was still waiting out of polite concern. How embarrassing. She gave a great sniff and looked at Lyra again, her eyes still welling with tears, her face blotchy from crying. "Sh-she didn't have to be so m-mean! Ohhhh, I'm s-s-sorry!" She sniffed and gulped, wished she had somewhere to wipe her nose. Then she noticed the green fire lizard on Lyra's shoulder. Struggling with self control, she tried a wobbly smile. "I've got a little green, too. She never stays w-with me though." Emig was still stammering as occasional sobs took her over. She gave herself a little shake.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "You probably have somewhere b-better to be than standing here while I c-cry."

With the girl suddenly bursting into tears, Lyra instantly wondered what on Pern she'd done to make the poor thing cry more. Had she said something to upset her? Not that she could remember, she'd asked if everything was alright, and what was-
Oh. That might have been it. Asking what was wrong might have meant she had to confont it, which was sometimes hard. Extremely hard in some cases. Arm was wrapped about the girl's shoulders as Lyra moved so she could do so, staying silent as she watched Flier crawl onto the Girl, chirping worriedly. His hadn't said something wrong had she? If she had, she was sorry, and so was he if he had been the one to make her cry, she should cheer up, it would all be okay.

Mean? Oh, it was one of these then. Odd, how when Lyra would have gotten annoyed normally, she felt only sympathy. Perhaps it was the tears? One could never really get annoyed when someone was crying, perhaps later she'd think back and get annoyed then. Right now, she only wanted to comfort the girl.
"It's alright, tell me what happened? Then we can fix this whole mess. What do you think of that, hm?" Hand gently rubbed her arm as Lyra gently eased away from her, leaving Flier clinging to the front of her shirt. The brown cooed, attempting to cheer her up in any way possible. She shouldn't cry.
"Hm? That's Flier, I couldn't think of anything. And Lil'Bit... She's with Kiskith, my Green."

Lyra let a smile quirk her lips, knowing full well Kiskith was wading into the water to greet the other green cheerfully.
"No, not really. Besides, if you need help then I'm here. Kiskith will come looking for me when she gets bored of conversing with your lovely green." Completely honest, Lyra sent a mental 'wait' to Kiskith, knowing the green would ignore her.

Of course she was going to ignore Hers, how silly of Hers to think she would listen. Slowly, the green tilted her head to the side, observing the mostly-submerged green with amusement.
Hello! Why are you like that in the water? Don't you like playing with Yours in the water? Where is Yours? Is she the one Mine is talking to?

Lyra's touch calmed Emig down and made her realize she was acting the fool. She tried another wan smile, which lightened a little more when Lyra introduced her fire lizard. "Oh...you're so kind. And I have a fire lizard, too. Her name is Mossy, but she's never around anywhere." She wished she had something to wipe her streaming eyes and nose with. "I'm Emig," she said. "I'd shake your hand, but I'd get it all snotty." She took a last, shivery breath. "Oh, I really made a spectacle of myself. Would you, um, would you like to have a cup of klah with me? Or were you heading out to wash your dragon?" Suddenly she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. "Ohhh no. Liranath! I totally forgot her." She hung her head, lip quivering, fighting not to cry again. "Guess maybe she was right," she whispered.

In the lake, Liranath turned her lambent eyes on Kiskith. Hello, she replied, amiably enough. Yes, my rider is talking to yours. She should be back to bathe me soon, I hope. I itch so! And the brindled green groaned, swishing water over her hide to ease the itching of her dry skin.

Lyra's sympathy was quickly changed to amusement as she tried to hide the smile. She couldn't be much older, or younger, than Lyra herself was.
"Flier and Lil'Bit are never far from me, but some flitts prefer some more independence." Truthfully, she hadn't seen many of the little flitters about much, but the few she did see seemed clingy to those they were bonded to, which made perfect sense.
"It's alright, I'd love to... Right about what?" Lyra's smile turned to a frown of confusion, tilting her head to one side in an imitation of the movement Kiskith often used.
"Well, I have to wash Kisk first, otherwise I'll be in for a major dunking, do you have to wash your green as well? If we do that, then I'm sure Kiskith would love to talk to your dragon while we talk..."

Kiskith seemed more than happy to chat, though did look over her left wing to see if Hers was coming anytime soon, she was busy yes, but Kiskith wanted to play!
Well, I'm sure they will be back soon, yes, yes, yes I am. I itch too, it's very annoying, but Mine shouldn't be long, and I'm sure Yours will come with her...

Emig shook her head fiercely, dark curls bouncing. She was acting a wherry. She'd no cause to fear Ywain, who was disagreeable to almost everyone, anyway. Her next smile to Lyra was more warm and genuine, and for the first time, she realized that this girl, this other greenrider, was near her own age. And so kind!

"It's all right. Just another rider from Tiazora who is unhappy with almost everything. C'mon, our dragons need bathing! As long as you promise to have klah with me later. I hardly know anyone here. My name's Emig." And taking Lyra shyly by the hand, she tugged the other girl in the direction of the lake, where their dragons waited.

They come, Liranath said to Kiskith, who the green dragon found to be a happily agreeable sort. She rose from the water and blew a fine spray in her rider's direction, adding for Emig's mind only, Hurry up! I made a friend, but it's not the same without you here.

Ywain, too, saw Emig coming, and stared briefly over Pranath's shoulder at her and Lyra. Reinforcements? She would deal with them if either girl dared reproach her. Besides, maybe her lecture would do Emig some good. Some people had to be told more harshly than others when they were doing wrong.

Lyra wasn't sure what to do when her head was shaken, had she said something wrong again? Was the girl going to burst into tears again? Oh please not that, Lyra may be patient at times, but she had no idea what to do if the girl cried again. Instead, she had a smile brighten the others face, one directed at her.

"Some riders are like that, of course I promise, I'd love to, I'm not a social flitter myself. I'm Lyriania, though everyone calls me Lyra, for some reason. You can too." A shrug of her shoulders was given as her hand was taken in the other's and she was quite promptly dragged towards the lake. Flier chirping softly before taking off to blink between to the green. So much easier than bumping around on His' shoulder.

Kiskith let out a low croon, turning her head to watch for Hers, she did like this dragon oh yes, yes, yes she did. However, Hers was still Hers and meant more than another friend anyday.
Good! I am glad Yours has come back The green's tone was bright and happy, even as she turned her head to nudge the small flitt off her back, only to have her joined by the brown.
MINE! I made a firend, yes, yes, yes, yes I did! Isn't that great Mineminemine? Oh but I dooo itch, please scrub me, and tell the little mini-me's to get off my back pretty please?

"Lyra? That's a pretty name." Emig splashed into the water, resolutely determined to ignore Ywain's haughty unpleasantness. "I'm so happy to meet you! Liranath!" She called her dragon vocally and mentally, and the green dragon swam to the shallows to meet her rider, using her long tail as a rudder. Emig looked back and forth between Liranath and Kiskith, noting the similarities and differences between the two. Kiskith stood a hand or so taller, she judged, and was a beautiful shade of green all over. Next to her, Liranath's unusual olive-and-spring grass brindled stripes stood out even more than usual. Both dragons looked happy: their postures were relaxed, and their eyes whirling a bright gold-green. Emig beamed fondly up at her green and took up the abandoned brush and soapsand pail.

Turning to Lyra, brush in hand, she asked, "Would it be OK if I helped you scrub Kiskith? She looks a little bigger than Liranath, and I'd love to help if I finish first."

Ywain was some distance away, industrially scrubbing between Pranath's toes, but she overheard this remark. "Just keep them away from me and Pranath," she snarled. "Don't want our rinse water mucked up, and I'm almost done." For some reason, it annoyed the fierce dark-haired girl that Emig had found an ally, and that she seemed so relaxed and happy with her. Ywain knew she had been right to call Emig out on her poor care of her dragon; she'd noticed it at Tiazora for a long time, and had even noticed Emig's pretty-boy brown rider of a brother biting back criticism of his sister's slovenliness.

These thoughts occupied her mind so thoroughly that she didn't realize how hard she was scrubbing until Pranath let out a squeal. The green dragon dropped her head to Ywain's level and said apologetically, I'm sorry, but you were scrubbing too hard!

Ywain froze. Then she dropped the brush and spread her arms to hug her dragon's wedge nose, kissing the soft hide between her jeweled eyes. "Oh love, I'm the one who should be sorry! Thinking angry thoughts when I should be paying attention to you." Reclaiming the brush, she started to work again, more conscientiously this time. Pranath let out a croon of pleasure, but Ywain was startled to find hot tears on her cheeks. She dashed them away, furious at this display of weakness. What was wrong with her?