A Bit of Harmful Fun...

[Samari]

Dylan smiled again and readjusted the parka over Gregory.



"The name is Dylan. The blue wher is Dylansk. He helped find you and carry you in."



Dylansk cooed happily from his closet.


"Yes! Dylansk help! Dylansk find! Dylansk save! Dylansk good wher."[/color]

[Wesku]

Gregory snuggled deeper into the newly adjusted parka. It was so warm and comfortable. Eventually he knew he would have to go to the infirmary, but for now he was content with where he was. The other man introduced himself as Dylan, and Gregory swore to remember that name. He owed a debt to this man. It wouldn't do to forget him.

The Blue wher's words amused Gregory. Gregory had always found whers to be quite useful and loyal. He had never had any contempt for the creatures, and had actually been smitten with them before Impressing Jadavath.

"Well I thank you noble Dylansk. You are indeed a good wher."

[Samari]

Dylan smiled and giggled at his Wher.



"Yeah. He's quite proud of himself. Poor guy was risking himself just being out in the cold...He's got something called cystic fibrosis. Mucus forms in his lungs."




Dylansk snuffled from inside the dark closet. He'd found something to play with in there.

[Wesku]

Gregory nodded then let out a soft moan. His head did not want to be moving right now, but that didn't mean he couldn't hold a conversation. In fact a conversation was probably the best idea at the moment. Who knows what the repercussions would be if he fell asleep or lost consciousness again with this concussion.

"I know about cystic fibrosis. It's really sad. I know it shortens the life-span of a human considerably, but Dylansk will be okay right? Does the disease effect him differently because he is a wher?"

[Samari]

Dylan shrugged. He really didn't know. He looked off to the side slightly.



"I really don't know. I hope not. Dylansk is my best friend, aside from Cosmo and Brigit."




Dylansk scratched at the closet door, letting out a low-pitched keen.



"Dylansk not die! Dylansk's not think that! Dylansk good wher!"[/color]



Dylansk's sudden outburst brought a tear to Dylan's eye. He really did adore his little blue wher.

[Wesku]

Gregory didn't know what the wher and handler exchanged, but it seemed to upset them. Dylan's eyes were moist, and Dylansk was letting out a whining keen. Afraid that he had upset them, Gregory tried to change the subject.

"I'm sure your wher will live a good while yet. He was certainly strong enough to carry me back, and I'm quite the large and heavy load."

Outside Jadavath snorted at Gregory's comment.

You are about as heavy as a sack of down and as large as a pebble.

Gregory pouted and regarded his Green.

Meanie.

[Samari]

Dylan shuddered and turned back to Gregory.



"Your green originally thought we'd harmed you, and went for us. Dylansk told her otherwise. I was upsetting Dylansk. Don't you worry. Dylansk is stronger than he lets on."




Dylansk made a confirming snort from the closet.



"Yes! Dylansk strong wher! Dylansk act weak. Dylansk no get hurt."[/color]

[Wesku]

Gregory looked over at Jadavath. While it was never good good to hear that your dragon had tried to harm someone, it did feel good to hear how much your dragon loved you.

"Yeah, she can be a little protective. I'm glad that no one got hurt because of me."

Smiling at the mental shout of Dylansk, Gregory looked over at the closet.

"You are indeed a strong wher, and I'm grateful for that."

[PhazonDragon]

Crucith was fully prepared for a split-second reversal, for a jarring turn to take her out of the way of the other green. She was sure of it--the green was diving, chasing after her. The darkness made it nearly impossible see, especially for a dragon used to sunlight for threadfighting. Crucith growled lowly, egging her chaser on. Come on, follow me. Chase me down to the mountain... We'll see who's going to rip who's wings off, Crucith chuckled. The change in air pressure and temperature alerted the older green to the nearing rocks. She let out a snarl and winked between, just barely missing the dangerous mountainside only a couple of feet below her.

The coldness of between engulfed Crucith as she floated in the empty space. She mentally counted, like she had heard Z'volm do each time they passed through between. One... Two... Three... She was still brimming with exuberant energy, and she was burning up from the heated fight. Crucith could only imagine the broken body of the green as she smashed into the mountain. It would be a shame if the green died however... That would be no fun. Crucith wanted to take delight in watching the younger green writhe around in pain.

As Crucith shot out of between, a good couple of dragonlengths above her initial entrance into the cold, she knew something was wrong. There was no keening of the death of the green, though that was a plus, but no pained squeaking of a downed dragon reached Crucith's ears. She may not have good hearing, but there was nothing out of place. The green was gone; merely a figment of Crucith imagination? Coward...! she hissed to nobody, even if she had just imagined the green chasing after her. Of course she didn't--that was the weyrling's dragon, correct? Angered and annoyed, Crucith drifted in a fidgeting circle. There was no broken body for Crucith to laugh over? No battered weyrling for Crucith to torture?

Feeling the green's angered thoughts, Z'volm had to reach out to her. What's the matter, my dear? She was annoyed and hatred for another green filled Z'volm's mind. Why are you so distressed? You are the better green, you know it, Z'volm mentally calmed his green. To tell the truth, he would have loved to see and hear that injured beast. He would have to do with see, since he was inside the weyr. However, Crucith wasn't giving the greenrider any hints.

She left--the green left. She's a coward. A coward. A disgrace. Running away, Crucith spit out in a wher-like fashion. No pained whining... Just turn and run. You don't run away from me like that, the green raged, with an intent on finding this green, even in the dark. I will find her, and rip her wings off. Show her what happens when you run.

Oh, my dear Crucith... You are sounding like a wher. Do not bother yourself with such a green. It would only be a waste of time.. Z'volm urged the green. Don't turn into a wher. You are much more beautiful than that. Please, why don't you come back to the weyr. Go back to our weyr. I'm going to get some dinner, and I'll meet you back there. Z'volm pushed himself off of the wall and started his walk back down to the main hall. He, at least, was satisfied for the day, having learned of what Gregory's "detour" resulted in.

Crucith snorted. I am not a wher. I will meet you back there. A low snarl came from the green's maw, as she winged around and away from the site. Her wings were now shaking with the effort. She had been in the air for longer than she would fight thread. She angled her wings, turning around and heading back to the weyr. She better watch out though...