Diet and Exercise

Writers: Devin, Estelle
Date Posted: 22nd April 2026

Characters: M'sar, A'ten
Description: A'ten supervises M'sar to make sure he follows Nazoth's new diet and exercise routine.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 10 of Turn 13
Notes: Mentioned M'thos

The day after Nazoth failed to take his first flight, M'sar walked up to the feeding tables with apprehension. He hated the thought of restricting how much Nazoth ate, but if he didn't it might be impossible for him to fly. Or to hurt himself when he tried.

He tried to keep all that from his brown, but it was early and M'sar's mind was hazy.

}:You are upset?:{

The last thing M'sar wanted was for his dragon to think he was mad at him for not flying. He set a hand on his large shoulder. **Nah. Just thinkin' about the best way to help you fly. I know you really want to.**

As they approached the table with its load of herdbeast carcass, a young rider who'd been standing a short distance off, arms folded and face locked in a scowl, heaved a sigh and trudged over to join them. "M'sar and Nazoth?"

M'sar rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten M'thos said he was going to send the kid to watch him. "I don't need a fostermother."

"Good." Only the thought that the weyrlingmasters would find him an even worse job to do kept A'ten from turning and walking away. "So your dragon can fly now?"

M'sar's glare was murderous. "You know he didn't fly yesterday."

"Then you do need help, unless you want him to spend the rest of his life crawling on the ground like a bloated watchwher." A'ten shrugged. "Up to you. It's all the same to me."

"You watch your feckin' mouth," M'sar growled, his fists clenched.

Nazoth reacted, partially flaring his wings as his eyes shifted to red. }:Yours is angering mine. Make him stop,:{ he ordered Corvanth.

The older brown blinked, then with an ostentatious yawn, he rested his head on his foreleg and closed his eyes. Without any words, he managed to convey that he wasn't going to bother his rider about some flightless hatchling.

A'ten gave the holdless rider the death-stare he used to give customers in the tavern who tried to sneak out without settling their tab. "You watch _your_ mouth, weyrling. By the way, that's what you're going to be until your dragon learns to fly." He folded his arms, not giving an inch. "Do you want my help or not?"

"No." M'sar stormed past him and started angrily chopping meat.

Nazoth growled. His stomach growled too.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, A'ten started to walk away towards the dining cavern to get some klah. He'd done what he was told, sort of. It wasn't his fault if that ungrateful holdless lout refused to listen, but... He glanced back over his shoulder at Nazoth and felt a pang of remorse. The young dragon's eyes were glowing with anger, but he had to be feeling miserable. Could he just abandon them?

He sighed again, turned and marched back over to M'sar's table, swiping one of the empty feeding pails used by the hatchlings as he passed, and set it down in front of the weyrling with a metallic clank. "Tough luck. You need help and you're getting it. He can have three buckets full, no heaping or extras. I'll be watching."

"That's _it_?" M'sar said, as if the other weyrlings weren't feeding their dragons the same amount. "He'll still be hungry!"

"That's the idea. He needs to learn to eat until he's satisfied, not until he's stuffed." A'ten shrugged. "If you don't like it, take it up with the Weyrdragonhealer."

M'sar glared at him again and kept chopping.

Nazoth calmed down when he started eating, chewing thoroughly as M'sar had taught him, but quickly going through the first, second, and then third buckets. }:More,:{ he said as he ate the last piece.

M'sar's stomach tightened, guilt and anger all twisted up together. He had an urge to feed Nazoth more to make him happy, and an urge to disobey just for the sake of it. But he thought of Nazoth struggling to lift himself from the ground, and his frustration as he watched his clutchmates fly. **No more. I'm sorry.**

Nazoth's eyes turned yellow as he thought of that terrible thing his rider remembered. }:I will starve?:{

It hit him like a punch. "No!" Tears pricked his eyes as he reached up to cradle the brown's bloody muzzle in his hands. **I would never let you starve! Never, I swear. You just gotta eat a little less, okay? So your wings will be strong enough. You want to fly, yeah?** It had to be worth it. It better be worth it.

}:Yes.:{

**So you can't eat as much, and you gotta exercise more, and then you'll be able to fly. Okay?** He sent a wave of love and reassurance.

}:Okay. I trust you.:{

M'sar squeezed his eyes shut. He was _not_ going to cry in front of that brat.

A'ten looked over from the opposite end of the table, where he'd been counting the buckets. "Everything all right?"

"We're _fine!_," M'sar snapped.

* * *

Later in the day, M'sar was sent to the lake to have Nazoth swim laps. It wouldn't have been so bad -- Nazoth liked swimming -- but that sharding kid was following them. "Go away."

"Can't." A'ten heartily wished he could leave them to it, but his instructions had been clear. "The weyrlingmasters said I had to watch to make sure he does his exercises properly."

He glanced sullenly from weyrling to dragon. "Go on, then. Tell him to get started."

"Don't order me around, you little shit," M'sar growled.

Nazoth's wings flared, picking up his rider's anger and glaring at the young weyrlingstaff assistant. }:This one again. I do not like Corvanth's rider. Or Corvanth.:{ The older brown had ignored him. Rudely!

"Don't talk back to me, _weyrling_," A'ten snapped back. "I don't want to be here any more than you do, so can we just get this over with?"

"Then keep your feckin' mouth shut. Nazoth knows how to swim."

**It's alright. Just ignore him,** M'sar told his dragon, urging him to get in the lake.

The brown huffed at A'ten and then waddled toward the water. The weyrlingmasters had assured him that swimming would make his muscles stronger so he'd be able to fly. Despite his size, he moved fairly easily in the water, paddling around the lake while his rider sat on the shore and stretched his legs out.

A'ten watched him swim, arms folded and face set in an expression of barely tolerated boredom and disdain. Shards, this was dull. Why hadn't he brought a book, or a pack of cards, or anything else to entertain himself? He couldn't even talk to Corvanth, who was now fast asleep, or throw stones into the lake in case he hit Nazoth.

After a while, it occurred to him that if one of the weyrlingmasters were to drop by, he might get told off for standing there in silence. Was he supposed to be cheering and shouting encouragement? He couldn't quite bring himself to do that, but grudgingly, he did sit down near M'sar, keeping a safe distance. "How's he doing? Not too tired or feeling any pain?"

"He's _fine_!" M'sar shot a glare at him. Shards, he just wanted that brat to go away. He noticed how close A'ten was to the shore.

**I have an idea.**

M'sar stood and stretched, casually taking a few steps back.

Nazoth reached the end of another lap and came closer to the edge of the lake. He reared up, wings spread wide, and then slammed down, sending up a huge wave. The chilly water crashed over A'ten.

"Aaah!" The young brownrider sprang to his feet, choking and spluttering and completely drenched by the wave that had hit him full in the face. Through dripping hair, his outraged gaze locked onto the brown dragon, and then turned on M'sar. "You tunnelsnake! You told him to do that!"

M'sar wasn't very good at looking innocent. "Are you gonna get mad at him for playing? He's just a _baby_."

}:I am not a baby! I am _big_!:{

"Him? He's not a baby! He's enormous!" A'ten snapped, unwittingly agreeing with Nazoth. "That's why we're here, because you've been stuffing him like a Turn's End wherry!" His eyes narrowed. "Anyway, if he was playing, how come he didn't splash _you_?"

"You're an easier target."

A'ten did his best to wring out his sopping wet shirt, then rubbed his arms and shivered. Although it was a warm day for Dragonsfall, the lake water that came down off the mountains had a definite chill to it, as did the fresh breeze up atop the cliffs. He raised his chin stubbornly. "You w-want to get rid of me, is that it? Well, I'm n-not going anywhere until you've f-finished your stupid exercises!"

M'sar scoffed. "Freeze, then."

**How are you doing?** he asked Nazoth. **Okay for a few more laps?**

}:I am strong, and I will be stronger!:{ The brown spread his wings, spraying both his rider and A'ten.

Even the fact that he couldn't get much wetter and this time M'sar had caught some of the spray didn't improve A'ten's mood and he gave the weyrling pair a furious look. But he did back away from the water's edge and watched them, shivering, from a safe distance. **Typical holdless,** he thought. **His dragon can't control himself and neither can he.** The older riders had been right. Some people should never have been allowed to Stand.

Last updated on the May 1st 2026

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Diet and Exercise