Trouser Terrorists

Writers: Halyonix, Kane
Date Posted: 10th March 2026

Characters: D'ltero, P'yanka
Description: Holdbred P'yanka is scandalised when D'ltero's pants are taken hostage
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 1, day 15 of Turn 13

P'yanka

Helanth was _cackling._

Of course, no one but D’ltero could hear it but plenty of people could
see the sapphire stripling dragon dashing across the Barracks in a
headlong rush to evade his rider, his jaws closed around a large piece
of fabric that was…pants? Cackling all the way. }: I got them! I got
them! You’ll never get them back! OhhaiPumoth. :{

Helanth stopped so fast that his rider tripped over him, falling into
an ungraceful bundle of limbs, while Helanth ignored him, totally
focused on his green sibling in front of him. }: Do you want to play
tug of war? :{ he asked Pumoth, giving the pants a little shake.

Pumoth’s thoughts lit up like bright sparks and embers from a
vigorously poked fire and the chubby green wasted no time snapping her
jaws around the offered fabric. This looked positively _fun_!

}: Yes! :{

“What the-” P’yanka did a double take. One moment Pumoth had been
almost settled for the night, and so was he, until suddenly the next
she was up and growling through her teeth, sounding louder than a
trapped wild animal, her jaws full of cloth already starting to rip.

}: Mine mine mine! :{ Pumoth planted her paws wide.

}: Mine! :{ Helanth answered. He gave a sharp, playful tug. The sound
of a stitch ripping could be heard.

“Those are my _pants_!” D’ltero wailed but it was with a laugh towards
the end. “Man, I am never going to have clothes for training, am I?”
He was rubbing his head where he had knocked it. He looked up at
P’yanka. “Hey P. Sorry. Didn’t think Helanth was going to bother
someone getting ready for bed. I was letting him sniff my pants while
I was changing clothes and…well…” He looked over at the two baby
dragons. “Guess another trip to the stores tomorrow for me. The staff
is going to love me.”

P’yanka blinked at him, clutching his own neatly folded shirt like a
shield. The chaos in front of him felt unreal. Pumoth planted square
on her rump on one side, jaws locked around one leg of the trousers,
and the sleek, whippy blue with his jaws clamped on the other pant
leg.
No one was shouting. No one was being scolded. D’ltero was laughing.

Laughing!

P’yanka’s instincts screamed that someone with authority should
intervene, restore order, and most of all, impose consequences. He
felt the familiar expectation of a reprimand, but it never came.
Instead there were giggles and the barracks hummed with amusement, not
horror.

Pumoth glanced back at him, her eyes whirling bright with pride, }:
Look what I caught! :{

P’yanka’s lips tugged into a cautious smile. “They are generous,” he
finally managed to say to D’ltero, glancing at his own clothes that
had only just been dispensed to him barely a few days ago. “The staff
I mean.”

“Oh, totally,” D’ltero agreed. “I mean, sometimes getting a
hand-me-down doesn’t fit right but at least you aren’t having to patch
up the same old garment over and over because it’s all you’ve got.
Okay, Hel, can I have my pants back now?”

}: No! :{ Helanth said. He gave it another fierce yank, tugging pants
and Pumoth another foot away.

“At least I still have my underwear on,” D’ltero muttered with a
good-natured chuckle. “P, you mind if I chill on your bunk while they
play a bit? I figure it’ll wear them out at least.”

P’yanka made a vague gesture of assent. The situation was growing more
bewildering by the heartbeat. His apprentice life had crashed and
ended for daring to kiss a boy and now a half-naked one was just
casually… lounging on his bunk like it was the most ordinary thing in
the world. He tried desperately not to stare.

“It’s P’yanka,” he corrected, gently but firmly. This new life had
come with a new version of his name and he liked the way it sounded,
and the way Pumoth said it in his head.

}: P’yanka LOOK! :{ as if on cue, Pumoth punctuated the conversation
with a triumphant growl that turned into a startled squawk. Another
hard yank from her opponent had wrenched the trousers free and sent
her sprawling. She lay there in an undignified heap of green limbs and
tail for half a breath and then charged right back into the fray,
bouncing into Helanth to wrestle for the pants again.

}: Give that back! :{ Helanth challenged playfully as he pounced on
the pants. Another sharp tug and now a tear could be seen in the
fabric. It wouldn’t hold for much longer though who knew how long it
would keep the dragonets entertained.

The young man flopped on P’yanka’s bunk, elbows propping his upper
body so that he could see the dragons playing. “P’yanka, cool. Got it.
I’m D’ltero. You from the Weyr? Hold? Hall? Somewhere in between?”
D’ltero asked conversationally.

P’yanka let out an amused huff. “Somewhere in between sounds about
right. From Sunstone recently,” he said, plucking absently at the spot
where his apprentice knots should have been. Empty now. Their absence
hurt something fierce. “But I was born closer to Amber Hills.”

The ripping sound grew louder, threads valiantly making their last
protest before the pants finally split in two, each dragon stumbling
back with a pant leg dangling triumphantly from their jaws.

Pumoth sat on her haunches for a breath, stunned by her success,
before settling with noisy satisfaction, chewing the abused spoils as
if it had been her plan all along.

P’yanka glanced back to D’ltero. “How about you?”

“Sunstone? You were at Sunstone? For how long?” D’ltero asked with
wide curiosity. “I’m from that area too! Like, right outside it. Tigo
cothold. I’ve been at the Weyr for a few Turns though.” He suddenly
started counting on his fingers. “Okay, five Turns. Longer than I
thought. Wow, time flies!”

}: Victory! :{ Helanth crowed as he shook his half of the ruined pants
like a canine.

“Just a few months, my father-” P’yanka choked off the memory and his
own words. The world shattering chain of events that led him here was
still a bruised and confused morass of feelings. He wasn’t ready to
broach that topic yet. “Five Turns? As a Candidate?”

D’ltero nodded. “My family is all farmercraft and I was going to stay
in it but I thought why not give it a chance? Who’s going to say ‘no’
to dragons? And if I aged out, I was just gonna go back and pick
farming back up.”

P’yanka’s gaze skittered across D’ltero again, his face, eyes,
shoulder.. _not_ the hips. Heat crept up on his neck. Oh no. Back to
somewhere past his ear. Like a wild wherry unsure of a safe escape
route. The thought stunned him. D’ltero spoke about it like an
adventure. A sensible gamble.

P’yanka tried to imagine telling his father that. Tried to imagine
having the luxury of ‘just going back’.

He couldn’t.

“I didn’t…” He cleared his throat, aiming for casualness and managing
somewhere near earnest, “I mean. I suppose dragons do make it
difficult to say no.”

“And good luck saying ‘no’ once one of them picks you,” D’ltero
chuckled. He shifted to get up, sensing that the young dragons’ fun
was over. He clapped P’yanka on the shoulder as he got up. “Alright,
Hel boy, let’s get back to our bunk. Enough terrorizing the Barracks.”

Helanth exhaled dramatically. }: Fiiiiiiiine. Bye Pumoth! :{

“See you in class tomorrow, P!”

P’yanka glowered. “It’s _P’yanka_,” he muttered, but D’ltero was already gone.

Last updated on the April 1st 2026

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Trouser Terrorists