When Mom Says No, You Ask Dad, Right? (1/2)

Writers: Iluva, Shawna
Date Posted: 2nd August 2025

Characters: Cirina, Th'reyos
Description: Cirina approaches Th’reyos/Zarkarth to try to log even more egg touching time
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 10, day 7 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: Nidre, R'lor, O’rosin
Notes: some Jossenth posing with Dusk's permission

Th'reyos

Zarkath’s behavior at the egg touching had given Cirina a new idea. Nidre was worried about Cirina getting too much personal time on the sands because it would make the other candidates jealous, but Th’reyos wasn’t from Dolphin Cove, and as far as she knew, wasn’t planning on staying. Surely he wouldn’t care about the morale in the candidate barracks. Perhaps more importantly, he didn’t have any official duties at the Weyr, as far as she was aware, so unlike Nidre, he had more free time.

So her next free morning, she wasn’t lurking around the sands waiting for Nidre, but rather the brownrider, and she leapt alarmingly from a shady corner when he approached, a basket in hand and a hopeful grin on her face.

“Good morning, brownrider. Can I interest you in a muffin? They were baking them fresh this morning.”

Th’reyos did have duties in Dolphin Cove, though most of them were restricted to helping in the Queen’s Wing and occasionally checking in with some of the other Wingthirds about their ‘fall formations. It never hurt to compare what worked best in which conditions, and part of his time here had been spent doing just that in his off time.

But it would be a lie to say it didn’t feel a _little_ like an extended beach trip sometimes. He had time to spare, as well as a grin for the girl who flung herself at him from the shadows with her current bribe.

“Morning.” He said without slowing his easy amble, nodding for her to follow him. “It’s Cirina, right?” Zarkarth’s rumble met them through a blast of heat, his great head raising to better view (judge) his tagalong. “Whaddya got?” Th’reyos finally peered into the basket.

“Hello, Zarkarth,” the greeting was automatic and polite, and Cirina didn't wait for or expect a response before flipping open the basket. “Fresh muffins. They're citrusy and sweet. They're very popular and hard to get a hold of if you aren't up early.” Possibly because a certain candidate had swiped four of them.

She didn't flinch away when the brown’s head loomed over, apparently not at all traumatized by her tumble on the sands.

“Good thing you were there.” Th'reyos said with a knowing smile, plucking one with little pieces of candied citrine peel on the top with an appreciative smile.

}:Where is Kularth's? One of his charges has gotten loose.:{

**Not here.** Th'reyos took a bite, letting his gaze fall down to Cirina again. “So, this is a pretty slick move. Where are you supposed to be right now?”

“Practicing my craft,” Cirina offered promptly, “but since I want to be a dragonrider, I think this counts. I just want to hang out with the eggs. That's way more likely to do me good than reciting teaching ballads for the millionth time.” Glancing towards the brown, she added in a lower tone, “Am I annoying him? Should I talk quieter?”

After a moment, she added, “Does he like chin scratches? I'm very good at those; my friend’s brown practically purrs.”

}:Tell her no.:{ Zarkarth insisted. }:Tell her-:{

“He does.” Th’reyos nodded as he chewed. **What? You _do_.** “Nah, you’re okay. He’s mostly cranky when there’s too many people talking in here.” And most of the time the brown only spoke to the eggs, himself, or Jossenth.

Long arms folding loosely across his chest, Th’reyos weighed a few of his options. He didn’t doubt Cirina’s sincerity - she’d been stalking Nidre every chance she got, too, and as Ciara’s kid he knew she understood dragons better than some of the other Candidates he’d met.

“Alright.” He said with a satisfied crook to his lips, “Recite us a ballad, will you? The babies are in need of a good serenading.”

Cirina sighed in that whole-bodied way. She’d rather have worn her arms out scratching chins. Still, when she slipped into a ballad, her voice was pleasant enough, even if she did sing a little too fast, eager to have it over with. “Do you think the eggs can hear?” She asked curiously.

Th'reyos clapped around the half muffin he still had in hand, a little amazed she did it in the first place and without much protest or hesitation. Baby dragons were a valuable bargaining chip, he supposed. And she had a lovely voice, too, so at least she was getting her practice in, if asked.

“It can't hurt. Zarkarth’s always talking to them. There’s gotta be something to it.” Th’reyos was impressed - if there were points for initiative, timing, bribery, and endearment, Cirina would have tens across the board. He decided to cut the girl a break and led her further across the scorching sand to where his brown lay, a bulwark between the rest of the cavern, and the clutch. “Come on. Let's get you a little closer.”

Zarkarth’s head snaked over, glittering eyes regarding Cirina with mild suspicion. }:She wants to scratch my chin?:{ He asked in disbelief. He wasn't sure whether that was bravery or something to be praised, but his instincts were suddenly divided on what to do. He angled his chin toward her, assessing before she had even made contact.

“Well, you should tell him to tell one of them to pick me. I'm very good with baby dragons. My friend O’rosin got himself a little mauled at the hatching and I took care of his brown those first couple sevendays. The other candidates can't say they've gotten up at dawn to feed a baby dragon.”

Fearlessly, Cirina looked up at the big brown, and the moment his head was within reach, she reached up to start scratching under his chin. For a moment, the only sound on the hatching Sands was the scritch scritch of nails against dragon hide as she scratched the soft spot under his jaw. “And see? I'm good at scratches. A baby dragon would love me.”

Last updated on the September 1st 2025

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

When Mom Says No, You Ask Dad, Right? (1/2)