Washing Imbriath

Crystal Lake
As you walk along the path, you find yourself near the center of the valley. Situated here, is Crystal Lake. This lake is named for its clarity. At nearly 100 feet, things can still be seen as if they were closer! Unfortunately, this is also a danger, as one has trouble gauging depth, so swimmers beware! A natural spring feeds the lake from underneath, keeping it a nice 80 degrees, even in the winter, though it can get much warmer in the summer. A large square has been set up a short distance for the shoreline.
It is a summer before dawn.

Linora is lying on the grass a little ways from the water's edge, fingers laced behind her neck, looking up at the last fading stars.

A large emeraldine form appears from the glowing horizon, casts of aureate lacings spreading along the large creature's wings and head. Soon the stars directly above are blotted out as the dragon slowly descends. A light thump is heard as she settles to the ground a short distance away-- followed by a low voice and an even lighter thud as 'rider dismounts. "Linora?"

Linora blinks as a large shadow blocks her view of the stars, scrambling to a sitting position at the sound of a light thump and a voice calling her name. A smile lights her face as she recognizes the greenrider. "Hey, Hyzen!" Quickly, she remembers her manners and adds, "Hi, Imbriath. What're you doing /here/?"

Imbriath warbles faintly from her landing spot, wings ruffling as she shifts her position to watch both girls. Hyzen walks slowly towards the other, subdued from her usual manner as she comes to a stop-- light smile upon her face. "Imbri made one of her impulsive decisions to visit you. We went to the Hall, but they told me you'd gone out. And that I'd most likely find you here." Eyes dart about... as if she's hiding something. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Course not!" Linora's face clearly betrays her surprise - and delight - that Imbriath decided to pay her a visit. She gets to her feet. With a little shrug she says, "This is one-a my favorite places around Gar, even if I can't swim so much anymore. How're you?" Looking from rider to dragon as if to include both in the question.

Glowing amber/gold embers flash brilliantly in the rounded face of this small dragonrider, hinting at truths untold and the mysteries and joys of being young. Short bangs decorate the high forehead then lengthen back into her usual ponytail, banded together with a small runner-clip. Pert little nose tips slightly up at the end and small mouth is usually pulled into a thoughful and reflective line. Gentle neck extends downwards, drawing ones eye onto the flat chest and towards the jutting shoulders. Short arms, showing little in the department of muscles, lead unobtrusively into delicate hands... slightly calloused and seemingly fragile, they do hold the almost unnoticable knobs of the paintbrush and stylus resting spots. Curving waist leads completely into legs, not stopping for the hips of which there doesn't seem to be. Resembling arms as much as is possible, her legs are also short and seemingly under-muscled to the eye. Small feet poke out from the ends of her legs, not highly noticable to one how only gives her the cursory glance as is common for the quiet and thoughtful.
Shades of darkness spread smoothly over these rich brown leathers, accented by a soft lactescent fur. Ringing her neck, waist and cuffs for the warmth it provides in Fall and basic life in the 'Reaches-- and if one was to look close enough, they'd see that the fur wasn't fully white. The very tips are dyed just the sweetest hint of sage: to match the wild tangles of her beautiful lifemate. Careful and tedious stitching went into the making of the sienna riding leathers, inch by inch sewn with the finest emerald thread. Helmet is a matching brown, goggles either covering rider's face or perched upon the brow of the head-wear. A thick belt wraps her waist, small silver loops poking out 'round the whole thing for the snaps of the straps. Gloves, either snugged around small hands or tugged into the belt, have the same lining of soft fur and hue of burnt umber.
Simplistic line of a bright orange twist around the neck of Hyzen, the small though detailed mountain and firelizards proudly shown along with the loving words etched into the essance. A delicate flash of intricate twining shines from the slender finger of young Hyzen; thusly the shape of a hand-wrought ring.
Circling around and around, never ending like the bond that is shared between dragon and rider, are two brilliantly hued cords on Hyzen's left shoulder: a deep azure-blue and staring ebony-black. Meandering slowly, languidly, dancing and twining with the two colors is a third of proud emerald green, a ribbon worked into the two cords with delicate care. A small tassle is made up of the ends of the three colours, flapping gently 'pon shoulder's side, making it known her rank as High Reaches rider of the fey green Imbriath.
Hyzen is 17 Turns, 8 months, and 19 days old.
Hyzen has no apparent threadscoring.

Honey-blond tresses, sunstreaked with platinum highlights, fall heavily down her back to just below her hips. A few long wispy pieces refuse to be tamed, often falling into her face to be brushed impatiently behind her ears. She's more or less stopped growing, a mere fingerwidth above 5' tall, and though she'll probably never be overly curvy, she's lost the childlike look she once had. Her features are regular if not actually striking, except for her eyes: palest blue, nearly white, they shine in stark contrast to the smooth, even tan that seems never to leave her skin no matter what time of Turn it happens to be.
A lightweight cotton shirt, crisp and cool, is tucked neatly into a pair of tan trousers - sleeveless, with a softly scooping neckline, dyed a soft, robin's-egg blue. The trousers, amazingly, actually seem to have been made to fit her, tailored flatteringly to waist and hips, following the lines of her legs and hemmed neatly just below her knees. On her feet she wears a pair of knotted wherhide sandals. Her hair is drawn back in a heavy runnertail at the nape of her neck with a wide blue ribbon. Perched on Linora's shoulder is Spray.
Red and silver intertwine in a single loop at her shoulder, the small red tail denoting her status as StarCraft Senior Apprentice.
A gaunt look lingers about her face, leftover from a recent illness, and she can often be found staring absently into space.
Linora is 15 Turns, 11 months, and 16 days old.

"It is beautiful here... I can see why you come." Hyzen looks around wistfully before shaking her head as dragon draws nearer. "I'm... fine." Tightly controlled vvoice as eyes dart towards her green then back again. "She's great." Imbriath rumbles softly, stretching out a muzzle for Linora to stroke. Yes, see? She's wonderful! But she's dirty. Whine.

Linora reaches to stroke Imbriath's muzzle, unable to supress a delighted exclamation at the soft hide. "Aren't you lovely!" she croons, looking her over. She does notice something a little odd about Hyzen's tone, though, and turns to look at the 'rider closely before quickly returning her attention to Imbriath. Oh, she /does/ look like she could use a good scrubbing... would it be impolite to say so?

Cress moves slowly in from the Hold Field.

Standing at only 5'5 this young man's size is not impressive. His blond hair, which has resently been cut short at the back and the front, is the color of wheat, has bleached strands, and he has a light tan from the sun, even if he doesn't spend many hours outside. Narrow gray eyes are framed by light-colored lashes and brows, and his cheekbones are angular as is his chin. His muscles are hardened, from long hours of hard work, done in his previous life as a trader. A scar runs along the right side of his neck and his most obvious feature is a missing inch of his right little finger.
A shortsleeved lightgray tunic covers his upper body with a black drawstring looped through holes at the v-neck to close it up on chilly nights. Light cotton trousers, the color of an early morning sky cover his legs, and has been rolled up to just below the knee. On his feet sandals are secured with leather bands, tightened in metal buckles. Perched on Cress's shoulder is Dixie. Cress' Pack hangs heavily from Cress's shoulder. Perched on Cress's shoulder is Idoru. Perched on Cress's shoulder is Wintermute.
A knot of intertwined, double corded red and silver, looped once and left with a small tail, shows that he is a Senior Apprentice to the StarCraft.
Cress is 19 Turns, 4 months, and 1 day old.

Imbriath hums lowly at the soft touch of Linora, sweet breath washing over the 'crafter. Whirling eyes are a mixture of azure and terreverte-- so slow in motion that it's almost impossible to see. Hyzen can't seem to meet Linora's eyes for more than a few moments. Sighing, she smiles towards the green. "Yes, I know. She wants to know if you'd like to help me bathe her?"

Cress stops walking as he sees not only a dragon here, but Lin with it. He's not sure whether to stay or leave, or even if Lin will notice him, when with a dragon. "Hi, Lin," he finally croaks, looking from her to the dragon, and then to the rider and back at Lin again.

Linora's full attention is on Imbriath now - she glances at Hyzen only long enough to nod eagerly. "Sure!" Then her eyes are back on the dragon. She hasn't even considered how much work it might be - to her it's a treat. Then she hears a familiar voice call her name and freezes, turning her head slowly to face Cress as if he's the last person she expected to see. "Hi." She looks uncertain herself, chewing on her lip and looking at the ground.

Cress dares to take a few steps forward, glancing at the rider. Hadn't he met her before? 'Course, she was the one who had taken them to 'Reaches, right? If he remembered correctly, of course. Which he wasn't at all sure he did. "Morning," he says, almost whispering the word, as he slowly approaches the dragon, looking at her in awe. He still didn't feel all that safe near these huge beasts.

Mzadith trip, skip, lumbers ackwardly in from the Hold Field.

O dark dark dark, blue goes into dark like the languishing flames of a winter fire; spirits dream the blue-lashed shadows of this dragon's ephemeral hide as the mysterious clarity of twilight partners carbon in a dance that blackens the edges of his narrow spine and rounded sweep of tail. Indigo inks the artistic curves of chin and chest as if to tease the elemental fires that flicker up the tolerant, enchanted slopes of his ample rump and reach down into the misted polish of immaculate claws. So svelte, so sleek, so self-possessed beneath the spidery diadem of paper-thin sails, that one might fail to notice the wizardly whimsy dancing in the stillness of those soulful eyes.
Settled upon Mzadith's svelte shadowed neck, betwinxt ridges of pure carbon, is Cayl. Scattered across smooth waves of indigo dipped blue is Genre.
Tied skillfully to Mzadith's straps are Zany Emerald Necklace.
Mzadith is 1 Turn, 9 months, and 9 days old.
He is 52 feet (16m) long, with a wingspan of 86 feet (26m).
Mzadith seems to be listening.

Cress looks over his shoulder as he hears noices come from behind. His eyes grow wide as he sees yet another dragon come to the lake, and almost stumples, trying to get out of his way.

Hyzen spots Cress and gives him a warm wave-- remembering him from when she'd given him his Turnday gift of torture. Poor guy. Sensing something... not right between Linora and Cress-- so she silently moves towards the happily being stroked Imbriath to remove her straps. First this buckle, then that buckle. Off come the creamy straps. And there go both pairs of eyes towards the arriving Mzadith and Cayl. Squeak! Hy quickly scrambles behind her dragon's foreleg. You don't see her!

Linora stands very still next to Imbriath's muzzle as Hyzen goes about removing the riding straps, and watches the blue dragon's approach. From the corner of her eye she peeks at Cress from time to time, but he seems to have completely forgotten that she's even there. She chews her lip some more, not even noticing Hyzen's squeak and scramble, and turns her eyes back to the blue, absently rubbing Imbriath's muzzle.

Mzadith didn't land. No, he's ambled right across the fields, likely squashing everything in sight, until he's found his way down to the lake's side. A bubbled croon is sent towards Imbriath, those ever innocent yet anciently flavored tones meeting the hues of his mindspeak as he greets her. Cayl, having been through a rough ride, quickly unbuckles and slides down her dragon's neck, landing lightly on the ground. Hyzen isn't seen just yet, but Imbriath's there, so the other obviously wasn't far. Eyes arch as the bluerider approaches the green and the one stroking Imbriath's muzzle. "Lo there. Have you by any chance seen Imbri's rider?"

Cress begins his slow approach toward the green dragon and Lin, who's with her. Reaching them, he takes up position behind Lin, even if he'd met this dragon before. "Good to see you again, Lin," he whispers, just loud enough for her to hear. His eyes, however dart from one dragon to the other.

Linora blinks as the bluerider speaks to her, then looks around. "Hi... she's right..." Oh, well, she /was/ right here. A confused look crosses the girl's face as she turns back to the bluerider with a shrug. "I dunno?" She looks back over her shoulder at Cress as he whispers, managing a little smile for her friend, even if it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Hi." Again.

The sun peeks over the land, rays showered graciously and shadows dancing midst the morning light. Imbriath gently pulls her head away, turning to face the glory of the sun as it appears. A high pitched croon is sent towards it before the fey green head comes back for more stroking and the like. She's ready to bathe, but she can't move with Hyzen cuddled so close to her elbow.

"How're you feeling?" Small talk? Here, among dragons? But then it had been a /long/ time since Cress had seen Lin, hadn't it? He takes a tiny step backward as the green begins to croon, and he looks at Lin and then back at the dragon.

So many dragons to regard! Well, okay, just too, but Mzadith more then makes up for his lack of kin-hood by his sudden interest in Cress. After Cayl is informed of the situation, the youthful blue slowly edges his way towards the green...no, no, wait; that muzzle is lowering towards Cress. Whuffle. Cayl arches a brow as she regards Imbriath..or rather -beyond- Imbriath. Lips purse and she shrugs her shoulder to Lin. "Oh well...I'll just have to tell her later. If you -do- see her, be sure to tell her to contact me. It's important." Her dragon, for now, goes ignored.

Mzadith hugs the ground and watches placidly as Cayl clambers down the straps-'ladder' and lands easily upon the ground.

Linora doesn't want to put words to her feelings, so she focuses her attention on Imbriath so her open face won't give her away. Fortunately, the blue is distracting Cress, so maybe he won't notice that she's not answering. She reaches to stroke the soft muzzle obediently, beginning to wonder why Imbriath hasn't gone into the water yet. She /had/ asked for a bath, hadn't she? Snap - back to the present, she turns to the bluerider. "Sure... Um... who /are/ you?"

Cress blinks and steps back as the blue dragon whuffels him. His heel snags on something and he tumbles to the ground, still staring at the huge beast. So what if he was still scared of dragons? They /were/ pretty big creatures, weren't they?

Those eyes, piercing, livid, alive with -flavor-! Slowly shifting from dark gray towards a rich gray-blue over the turns, they stare out over the world masterfully. A mask of confidence, an appeal of excitement, their glossy film gives a taste of the ever shifting soul of the girl without. Classically narrowed at the edges, they front a well-formed, feminine face of high cheekbones and thin lips. Pouty eyebrows crown these windows to the heart, thick but not overwhelming. No freckles, nor wrinkles, mar this youthful face at the peek of its glamour, though all is not perfect. Her nose is perhaps a little unshapely, bluntly tipped and noticeably out of proportion with her smallish face. Mocha cream skin stretches tight over her lithe form, pulled taunt by her growing turns. Around 5'7, the blooming teenager has outgrown her childish chub. Her hips have formed, not hour-glassing, though definitely apparent, and her chest has noticeably taken shape. While not a fashion model, nor buxom beauty, her hands carry a soft touch, skilled and well practiced. In a very recent, unself-proclaimed adjustment to features, her hair has been cut short: Very short, in a boyish, uneven bob that curls in every-which-direction. Most notable is the highly fluorescent rose-bud gleam that shines off of its once dark brown/ebon hues.
Apple green, as fresh as spring plucked, drips over every curve of new leather, every inch of unused yet shapely stitch. Juicy, almost savory to the touch beneath and at the edges of the jacket, velvety purple adds warm padding and a tender feel. Several pockets of a more jungle emerald hold items just above the base hem. Brown freckles pools about the shoulders and across the neckline of the woolly shirt beneath the flavorful jacket. Almost plain compared to the rest of the outfit, its saving grace remains the rich twist of flowered vine which decorates the front and back sparsely. Part of the ensemble, gloves of the deepest, soul-luring black leather cover her hands. Dark, dark sanguine marks the cloth of her pants, at rival only with the rich locks of hair resting against her shoulders. Windbreaking, heat locking leather seems to be the theme of this outfit. Resting comfortably upon Cayl's shoulder, tail tightly curled around the neck is Kryll.
Two twists of thick cord twine around eachother, echoing hues of alternating sapphire and sable which stay true to High Reaches coloring. Pinned carefully around her right shoulder, the double-corded, single looped, otherwise plain knot is precisely made. A long tail trails down the front side, deep deep blue in color. A single, long thread of pure cobalt and silver embed themselves deeply around the cords, the true-color of her lifemate, and status: Cayl is a Rider to Blue Mzadith at High Reaches.
Cayl is 20 Turns old.
Cayl has no apparent threadscoring.

Mzadith isn't /that/ big. Okay, so he's a little plump, but no one tell him this. Wings shuffle languidly by his sides as he settles into a more appeasing human-viewing posture. The fact that Cress fell doesn't seem to bother the dragon one bit; after all, it's not any harder to lean down more then across. Muzzle comes within a whisker's breadth of the boy. Sniff...snort. Nostrils flare with each deep breath. "Oh, I'm sorry. Cayl, rider of Mz....Mad! Leave him alone." She chuckles at her wayward dragon before glancing back to Imbriath. "Oh dear..."

Imbriath would pout if it was possible... so she does it mentally. She'd /hoped/ Cayl'd go and drag Hyzen out from the crook she'd wedged herself into. Ah well, she'll just have to take matters into her own paws. Head tucking, she dances away from her 'rider, chirruping softly before charging into the shimmering water, beckoning Mzadith to join her. Least she's not glowing anymore. 'Rider, on the other hand, topples over from the lack of draconic body support. Picking herself up, she scowls towards green before dusting herself off-- all the while not meeting Cayl's gaze. Eh heh.

Cress is frozen, or maybe glued (?) to the ground. Staring up at the dragon, he hardly dares to breather as he comes /very/ close to him. He hardly dares blink, but does so anyway, infinately slowly, and maybe the dragon won't notice that he moved?

Linora giggles a bit at the blue's fascination with Cress. "Hi, Cayl." She gives the bluerider a smile. "I'm Linora. That's Cress." Abruptly Imbriath's gone, and there's Hyzen. She turns toward the lake to watch Imbriath dive, standing indecisively in place. Cress is busy with Mz... Mad. Cayl will want to talk to Hyzen... with a little shrug, she heads toward the lake to take care of Imbriath, hopping a bit as she pulls of her sandals midstride and tosses them on the shore.

Cayl shakes her head a bit, tsking towards Hyzen. "Now you -know- Imbriath's gonna tell Mza where you were, so why bother hiding?" She seems in an unusually good mood. Then again, watching Hyzen squirm after what she'd done to Cayl was /appeasing/. Linora is looked at again before she smiles, nodding her head at the greetings. "Well-met. And thanks for the help." Cress is regarded, a faintly amused expression on her face before she heads off towards her clutchsib. "No, you really must promis me you won't whisper sweet nothings in my ear again: Otherwise there's nothing to be uncomfortable about." Rub it /in/. Cayl's taking every oppertunity she can't to make her point. Revenge is sweet. Mzadith, on the other hand, completely ignores Cayl's command. This one's funny! Slowly, ever so slowly, a blue tongue makes it's way out of Mza's muzzle...

Imbriath sends a small wave of water towards Linora as she approaches, warbling soothingly as she goes even deeper. Wings fold 'pon her back, lining her ridges as she slowly rolls over. And over. And back to her paws again, she /shakes/. A lot. Droplets of water catch the searing rays of the sun and send tiny rainbows every which way. Hurry, hurry! She's very dirty! Hyzen finishes dusting off every last speck of dirt before lifting her head to regard Cayl with shadowed eyes. Coughing into her hand, she glances at Linora and poor Cress briefly before sighing. "I'll try... but you don't know what it's like to have a dragon like Imbriath... proddy..." Shudder. Thankfully, it was over for a few months. But Cayl wasn't the only one that Hyzen had 'attacked'. Reiko, Ilare, Takovic, G'deon, P'rru, Kinecha... the list goes on and on. AT least she'd stayed in the Weyr the whole time. "Care to um... join us?"

Cress swallows hard as a huge tongue comes toward him. Not knowing what to do know, he does nothing, and stays where he is, staring at the dragon. He's simply forgotten all about Lin and the other dragon, being the focus of attention of this one. Not that he minds being the focus of attention of a dragon. This was just not what he'd imagined it would be like..

Linora giggles as she's splashed by Imbriath's shaking, wiping droplets off her face even as she steps into the warm water of the lake. Her clothes'll dry, no worries. She bends to take a handful of soft sand from the lake bottom and goes up to rub it into Imbriath's soft hide. She can't really hear any of the conversation over the sounds of dragon and water, and she focuses her entire attention on the unfamiliar task of scrubbing a very large dragon. Whee!

"Good. And I think the next time she goes -green-, I think I'll be applying for a nice long vacation at Southern." Shiver. Cayl glances back towards her dragon, rolls her eyes, but obviously isn't coming to offer Cress any assistance. She glances off toward the water at Linora and Imbriath, highlighted by the sun. "Sure. 'Ve the whole day free to myself: S'my turnday, or there about." Records were hard to keep, but she had a good enough memory.

Cress is more or less pinned to the ground. By his own will, of course, as the blue wasn't likely to hurt him if he tried to get up. But he doesn't know that, now does he? He considers briefly to appeal to the rider to get her dragon off of him, but who was he to tell a dragonrider what to do?

Imbriath looks feint with relief as the girl gets right to work on her dusty, icky, nasty hide. A constant hum comes from her as she shifts every now and then for a new spot to be scrubbed. Ooh... you know, we should take her home with us! Sparkling eyes turn on her lifemate, but the young rider just shakes her head. Don't think so. She doesn't need a dragon that was like her mother's... Jhia was skeery-- and Imbri was trying to be too much like her. "That might be an awful good idea. Stripping off her riding jacket, she places it off to a side before slinking behind a rock. After a few moments, she appears in her bathing suit. Ah, much better. "Doing great, Linora!" comes her call as she wades into the cool water.

Linora smiles over at Hyzen as the rider joins her in the water, pleased at the approval - both human and draconic. From the corner of her eye, she now notices that Cress is still on the ground with Mz... Mad... whatever his name is... /licking/ him? She'd giggle, but he almost looks scared. As if on some unspoken command, the little blue firelizard on her shoulder vaults into the air and wings toward the shore. Even Lin blinks at that - Spray's generally sound asleep, after all, and not known to be particularly obedient.

Spray circles Mzadith, chirping earnestly.

Mzadith 's tongue looooms over the prone boy, the blue's eyes whirling such a playful shade it's hard to take him serious. Unless you take into account how very ominously large a dragon could be. Suddenly...Drip! Drip! Drip! Yes, this answers the question: Dragons -do- slobber. And that tongue narrows in for the kill, SLURP! Cress, if not fast enough, may very well feel the powers of dragondrool soon. Cayl snickers silently to Hyzen. "Mzadith's having..fun. Least he's not trying to lick Imbriath this time." Shrug.

Cress certainly isn't fast enough. He's frozen remember? But his eyes grow even wider and look as if they're about to come out of their sockets. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees another blue shape, identifying it as a firelizard, and idly wonders what happened to his own.

Hyzen giggles quietly as she comes to a stop near Linora. "Judging by the way you're going about it, it seems you've washed dragons before?" Curious gaze is turned on the other, now without the anxious lilt to them-- for now. Cayl had forgiven-- what about the rest? Sigh. Resting a gentle and loving hand upon green's hide, she scratches before taking two handfuls of the lake mud and scrubbing it into her dragon. "He seems to really like Cress..." comes Hy's reply to Cayl's words, dancing eyes turned on the blue and the poor man.

"Naw... just flits." Linora flushes at the compliment, and keeps scrubbing. At Hyzen's comment, her eyes almost involuntarily go to Cress. She likes him, too... or she wouldn't be so upset about how long it's been since she saw him last. But she's not going to say anything about that, nope. "Anyhow, it's not hard, mostly." Well, it's a lot of work, certainly, but it's not hard to figure out how to go about it!

Cayl pauses as she regards Mzadith, wincing softly as the dragon slurps Cress. She shrugs her shoulders to Hyzen. "I suppose. Then again, have you ever met someone Mza /didn't/ like?" Of course Cayl had forgiven. After that sevenday of utter panic, locking herself in the weyr to hide, and other such extravigances she'd come to realize one thing: Hyz's no longer proddy. That's all that matters. *shiver*. Mzadith's tongue drawls back in and muzzlelips purse. This was a tough subject to crack. Croon? Warble? Mzadith's head lifts up a bit, pulling back for the other to have room to twitch.

Cress faintly hears Hyzen's words, even if the majority of his attention is turned to the dragon, as he's being slobbered. Right at this moment he didn't especially liked, flattered maybe, that a dragon would give him this kind of attention. As the blue draws back, he blinks slowly, taking a deep breath, and then sit up. Looking down his frontside. "Look what you did..." he mumbles to the dragon, surprise or maybe regret showing on his face the instant he said it. How could he have scolded a dragon?!

It's actually rather easy to scold a dragon. Cayl does it all the time. The rider frowns as she looks back to her dragon and shakes her head. "I'm /not/ doing that." She states firmly before looking towards Imbriath and Lin. "Aaah, see Hyz? You still all the good washers. Who's gonna scrub Mzadith?" The blue himself simply regards Cress with a curious expression, though if he caught the scold he doesn't let on. Mzadith can do the puppy thing and act all cute and cuddly (not to mention drool a lot), but he can also be serious. Head lowers to the ground beside Cress, a soft, in tune croon parting his 'lips'. Moon-colored talon taps on the ground lightly, tail swishing back and forth.

Linora works her way along Imbriath's body, trying to concentrate only on the bit she's working on so as not to be overwhelmed by the sheer size of the project she's undertaking. She catches Cayl's comment. "Cress'll do it," she volunteers her friend. Now he can't complain about being left out of the fun. Why she cares, she's not sure. Prolly can't help herself. "I'll help, too." Oooh, if Imbriath'll let her, that is.

Croon? His firelizards did that when they were content and happy, so Cress relaxes a bit, thinking that dragons might have the same trait. And since the blue had started crooning, he could maybe relax a bit now. Maybe he wasn't dangerous after all. Even if he /had/ messed up his shirt. Hearing Lin's comment his eyes dart over to look at her, a tiny bit of fear showing in them. Get in the water with a dragon?! When he hardly even knew how to swim?

Cayl arches a brow as she glances back towards the other. "Well, it might actually get that stuff out of his shirt. I'm sorry about that, by the way!" She calls out the last part towards Cress before glancing to her dragon thoughtfully. "Well, actually first I've got to hunt him. It's been nearly a sevenday since he ate... Then maybe I'll stop back by." A freely offered scrub was hard to turn down. -Lets not mention the 'victom' wasn't the one that offered his services. Mzadith continues to croon softly, staring at Cress. Bah, dragonslobber /helped/; it didn't muckup. Wait..food? Blue's head rises as Cayl walks back towards him. "Yes, love." She glances towards the others before nodding. "We're off. Be back in a bit." She mounts..they take off.

Linora waves after Cayl and Mzadith with one wet, sand-covered hand, then turns to look at Cress, questioningly. Will he stay and help her?

Cress gets up from the ground as the blue dragon moves away from him. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, and he looks back at Lin giving a shakes of his head. "I think, I'd better go wash this," he says pulling at his shirt. And he might also need to get over that fright, the dragon set into him. "I'll see you later allright?" And lets just hope it'll be soon.

Linora chews her lip, an odd look in her eyes, and nods slowly. "Um. Sure." She's almost given up hoping it will be soon. "See ya." She turns quickly back to scrubbing Imbriath... good thing dragons have thick hides.

Cress nods once, although he's sure she doesn't see it, and turns to go back to the hall to get this... Dragon-slubber off his shirt. He's not even sure if it'll come out, or how to do it.

Cress moves slowly to the Hold Field.

Hyzen jerks from her daydreaming-- she does that a lot lately-- and grins faintly at Linora. Cress and Cayl were gone. Hrm, she missed a lot, wouldn't you say? Bah. Imbriath croons softly as she twists her head back to nuzzle Linora and Hyzen lovingly. See, isn't her hide all pretty now? Tail swishes through the water as the greenlet turns for her other side to be done. It's not as bad, thankfully, but it's still got a little dirt on it. Hy begins working, giggles softly at something said before eyeing the 'crafter. "She really likes you helping, you know." Ooh, high compliments!

Linora manages a little smile at the compliment, although it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I don't mind... it's kinda fun." Prolly because she doesn't have to do it on a regular basis, but Hyzen probably wouldn't think much of Lin's usual chores either. She bends to pick up a fresh handful of sand and sets in on Imbriath's other side, concentrating on the movements of her hands to keep from thinking too much.

Zenethen strides in from the Hold Field.

Zenethen whistles a short note and Nathen glides to Zenethen, clinging to the back of his hand.

is tall, around six feet. He has large bones and has a massive presence. His hair is dark brown, almost black, a little long and almost like a mane. He tans easly, his skin is a light gold, but finds it hard to get burned. He has eyes the color of clear green emeralds, veary watchfull and analytic. His body is not lean, but by no means fat. His face has strong features: dark eyebrows, full lips, and a large, but not huge or long, nose.
This young adult looking man is dressed in all black attire, save for the royal blue cloak of which raised hood hides his face in a dark shadow. The cape body is drawn together in front, hiding his arms and legs down to the ankle of his werehide boots. Every once in a while you are able to glimps aglint of sparkeling green eyes peering from under the hood. On the back of Zenethen's hand rides Nathen, lulled to sleep by the gentle swaying.
Zen wears the dark, yet brilliantly collored knot of the Gar hold. The cords are plain and simple, lacking any decoration that would hint of dragonrider or authoritive position.
Zenethen is 22 Turns, 9 months, and 5 days old.

A man wanders along the beach, drawing closer at a steady rate, with a whistle he calls out and a firelizard dives for the mans hand. It appears that this firelizard inhabits his hand quite often.

Hyzen frowns faintly at some comment from her dragon, pausing in her administrations to peer closer at Linora. She didn't know her as well as say... Caelestis. But the people Imbri usually took a liking too were kind-hearted folk... and when they were worried or hurt, she knew instantly and made sure her 'rider knew likewise-- so she could help. "Are you okay, Linora? Imbri says there's something wrong..." Not that the green /knows/ what it is... she just can feel that something was bothering the other. The whistle and figure draws the girl's eyes towards Zenethen, and she offers a slight wave to him.

Zenethen nods to the wave directed to him and aims his walking towards her. he slows as he nears and coms to a stand near the others.

Linora bites her lip, dismayed at being given away, even if the intentions were well-meant. A quick glance at the approaching man assures her that it's not a journeyman.. she's not even sure she's seen the man before, although he seems somewhat familiar. She shrugs, still watching her hands, silent for a long moment before she just shakes her head slowly. Suddenly she can't see her hands very clearly anymore. She blinks hard, but it doesn't seem to help. "I dunno," she whispers.

Hyzen smiles towards the man as he approaches, offering a wet-suited bow from the depths of the water and her dragon. "'lo there, sir. M'name's Hyzen, rider of this green lump, Imbriath." Ah, greetings 're always the first thing to leave her mouth with ones she doesn't know. But greenlet, instead of greeting the man with a happy bugle, is busy trying to figure out Linora's problem. Head swivels 'bout on sinuouy neck and soft breath brushes at the girl's hair. A murky shade of yellow dances in her speedily whirling optics. "You don't know? Linora..."

Zenethen nods. "Greetings! my name is Zenethen, this is Mark, and.... " looking up at the sky and around a little bit he continues "Somewhere around here is Mark.... i can feel him close."

Linora keeps scrubbing, although her hands are moving a little more slowly. She's /not/ sure what the problem is. And she's got a sneaking suspicion it's not the type of problem apprentices are s'posed to have anyway, so that might explain the somewhat guilty look about her. Zenethen does manage to draw her attention momentarily; she's never seen anyone introduce flits before. Well, not first thing like that. She lifts a muddy hand to give him a halfhearted wave before looking back to Hyzen. "I just kinda feel like I lost my best friend, I guess," she mumbles, knowing even as she says it that it's more than that. But not sure how much more.

Zenethen walks over to a large rock and sits down on the top. with his left had, he brushes his hair back and lowers his hood in the process. with a flick of his head he sends his hair cascading over his back.

"Well met, Zenethen, sir." Hyzen has manners-- lots of 'em. But they get annoying sometimes for others to hear over 'n' over again. Gently slapping her green's hide, she snickers softly. "Imbri wants to know if you want to help us wash her? She's more'n halfway done..." Beg, prod, grovel. Imbriath is still worried for Linora-- she wants to know! Nuzzling up against her with her large, bulky head, the green croons softly in hopes that the other might figure it out. "You best friend?" Softly said, but her voice carries the same worry her dragon feels. "Cress?"

Linora nods, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "Today's the first time I've even seen him in more'n a month," she whispers. And she might as well have been invisible next to the dragons. She starts scrubbing harder. "I don't even know why." Just that nothing's been the same since she'd left the infirmary.

A short distance from the lake, a /very/ short distance if you don't count the high over head length, a blue winks in from between. The creature soon scouts the ground below as he glides lazily upon the thermals. Up, down, up down, circling as he goes; when he'll land, no one knows! A melodic trumpet is sent Imbriath's way, the pump of powerful wings keeping the slightly chubby Mzadith airborn.

Zenethen stands and unlatches the broach that holds the cloak on. as it slides to a pile on the rock, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. After shruging that off and placing on the pile, he walks into the water slowly, cringing at the cold water as it inches up his legs. With an unsure hesitation he stands a few feet away, wondering what he is to do to help. "Um... what do you want me to do?" he asks, sounding slightly helpless.

Hyzen smiles gently at the man, reaching down through the water and bringing up a glop of mud. "Just reach down and grab some of this, smooth it onto her hide and /scrub/. As hard as you can. You can't hurt her, so don't worry about that." With those words, she does as she'd told-- placing the gook on her dragon's hide and rubbing it in. Girl doesn't look at Linora for a time, thinking before she finally speaks. "I think... that maybe you should talk with him. He probably misses you too." Mzadith is spotted by green, who sends out a loud, resounding welcome before going back to nuzzling Linora.

Linora bites her lip. Yeah, that'd be a good idea... if she ever saw him. "Maybe," she says, trying not to sound too doubtful. Imbriath's bugle draws her attention skyward, and she lifts a muddy hand to wave at Cayl and Mzadith as they return before setting in on her scrubbing again.

Finally Mzadith deems it 'the time' to land and with a swift snap of sails, a tilt of body midair, he backwings and lands with a light 'thud' upon the ground. Even as talons dig into sand, the blue glances towards the welcoming water, tail swishing slowly behind him in barely contained eagerness. Cayl waves from her mount, already unbuckling the straps. "Yes, yes, you can go swim. Just let me get down and get those straps off you first." She lands neatly upon the ground and turns to remove the leather from her dragon's neck.

Mzadith hugs the ground and watches placidly as Cayl clambers down the straps-'ladder' and lands easily upon the ground.

Zenethen gasps slightly as the cold water creeps up his arm. A moment later he stands back up and slaps a handfull of mud on the green hide. As he begins rubbingit in, softly at first, his face brightens as he realises how soft... yet tough and strong, the hide feels. With harder determination to scrub the hide clean, he pushes with almost all his strength, but soon tires himself. "If I'm going to impress a dragon, I think im goign to have to start some kind of strength training soon... i feel weak!" he chuckles.

Mark blinks in from ::between::!

Mark shrieks out with desperation, and tugs at Zenethens hair.

Zenethen looks up at the flit, "Um, i think im needed somewhere, i guess ill talk to you later!" he splashes out of the water and grabs his shirt and cloak, then rushes to the hold.

Linora suddenly notices the angle of the sun, and a dismayed expression comes to her face. She'd been so self-involved... "Sorry, Hyzen... I got chores t'do and stuff." She gives Imbriath a little pat and starts slogging towards the shore, wringing out her wet hair as she goes. "Bye Imbriath... S'long Cayl... Mzadith." She gives the bluerider a smile. "C'mon back anytime. It's way warmer here than at 'Reaches." She should know.

Linora walks softly to the Gar Gardens.