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Date Posted: 16:50:08 05/11/05 Wed
Author: Nerilki
Subject: Waking up

"Weyrling lessons has been suspended until further notice," she shuffled a sheaf of papers. "Signed," her voice dropped to a low mumble. "All greens to chew firestone immediately . . . we know this is strange, but. . . well, we knew Grenith flew, and clutched . . . oh, fiddlesticks!"

Nerilki looked up from her reading when the ever-mischevious Hotaru pulled her long blonde braid. She glared at him crossly, and shuffled another paper into view.

"Shrineth's clutch on the Sands . . . why am I just now getting all these?" She turned to her bed where two of her three canines watched her, tongues out and panting.

"What do you two want?" she asked, flitting her gaze over each. Fern. Ginny. Bronzie. Bronzie was curled up in a deep sleep, tail over nose. His light breaths fluttered his feathery tail.

"Fern, go hunt. Ginny, you hunted yesterday. Leave me alone when I'm reading!" she motioned for the female called Fern to go out the open door to the weyr.

What is wrong, Nerilki? Anvianyth asked from her couch, one wing spread out so she could inspect it.

"Nothing much, love. It's just that, some of these notices are dated way back to when Grenith clutched, and I'm only now getting them," Nerilki tossed them into the half-opened drawer, half of the sheets missing it altogether and falling to the floor.

But you are distressed far beyond that, mine. What bothers you besides that? the green pressed. Though still technically not an adult, Avianyth possessed startling intelligence.

"Oh, I don't know, Avianyth. Maybe it's the way the canines have been snapping at each other lately, maybe it's the way the flits are bothering me more, I have no clue." She pulled her braid to hang over the front of her shoulder. The rope-like hair shimmered softly in the firelight.

I don't think I'm flying anytime soon . . but . . would that be the case though, if I was?
Most likely, lovey, but I highly doubt it. We aren't even done with weyrling lessons yet, and they're supposed to be calculated so that they finish just before the first green flies.
But what have we left to learn?

Nerilki thought for a moment, then went to her dusty table to search through her lecture notes.

Just . . . between.
Exactly, Nerilki.
Shards, you could be going into heat soon!

She replaced her lecture notes exactly as she had taken them, with the oldest notes at the bottom. Her long, slender fingers absently evened out the sides, and set them down, slightly askew of what they had been.

Green Knightess, her almost-black firelizard, popped into the room at that moment, and chirped proudly. She dropped something above the sheaf of notes.

"What the shard? Knightess . . . where did you get this?" The object Nerilki now held was a partially chewed meatroll. It was dry, and hard as stone. The green fanned her wings rapidly, twriling loop-d-loops.

Little Embroidered, the tiny green so ready to pose for a painting or sketch but in all other respects lazy, opened her first two lids half-way. He creeled nce, opened her wings to beat them, and took flight. She grabbed the hard meatroll in her back talons, and fluttered back to her sleeping spot. Majestic, her lightest fire lizard, set upon her, screaching like his favorite pull-toy have been stolen.

Nerilki threw a knitted blanket over the two of them fighting, and a ripping sound followed. She grimaced, and reached out to Avianyth.

Dearie, if you would . . . ?
My pleasure, Nerilki
The green gave a mental warning to all four fire lizards, even the two not fighting, that they had better stop. Majestic dropped the meatroll, and Embroidered first-lidded her eyes again.

Thank you.
You are most certainly welcome. I was getting tired of the noise myself.

Nerilki settled onto a braided rag-rug, and stared into her little hearth-fire. Her hands absently picked up an embroidery hoop with cloth already affixed on. Her fingertips fed a vibrant yellow thread through the eye of a needle, and knotted the two ends. Needle poised below the fabric, Nerilki fixed her mind on a sun. Round, bright, flamboyant in color. Maybe a few rays around it to point out light, or a cloud done in darker thread. She began to stitch, her mind calming now that she had something she knew how to do.

The world is quiet here.
Indeed it is, my love.

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