Nada's Moody Ivy-Green Siyaneth

Roundness of Zeroes Egg
Three rings serve as equators for this round nubbin of an egg,
carving presence from the anonymous sheen of brown, wax-marbled
slate. First steals the spectral grey of woodsmoke, adrift with
golden sparks as it, too, waxes and wanes and twines; second,
orthogonal, a full host of reds clashes within itself, much less the
cousin-glints of violet, of orange; third and last, an eccentric
orbit of blue-swirled green cuts through both, angled acute and
obtuse at once. Around, around, around: interlinked, but should the
shell disappear — unbound.

Roundness of Zeroes rolls and cracks at once, warring red-toned
shards falling first, and then but a memory of grey; with the
momentum, brown slips free, leaving only blue-swirled green, and then
— rolling head-over-paws, green herself, sliding to a stop in a
shower of sand.

Moody Ivy-Green Dragonet
Mannered and manicured, a garden's own green claims this
mercurial-eyed dragonet with the persistence of long-rooted ivy, its
vines encircling her curvy bones in a possession deep as ichor and
darker still. For all that ruddy-blue shadows may whisper about her
underwings and slip over her belly, even they are green-driven, the
inchoate hue of leaves brushed lush against a moonlit night;
winghooks and talons breathe of incipient wildness, so sharp they
are, so strong.

Nada, my Nada, « comes your name at first, fairly sung in an

alien contralto — and then comes the impact as she fully looks at
you, that ivy-green dragonet, thoughts rapt about yours in sudden,
dangerous passion. All the heat, all the stares, all the shouts,
their volume amplifies fit to set you trembling on those already
chancy sands — yet, even so, serve only as backdrop for the
explanation writ large within your soul:


The most mercurial being we could think of is a teenager in
love — and /that's/ something that will exist in any millennium.
And guess what? She's in love with you, Nada, and you're her best
friend too, all wrapped up in one ivy-vined package.

Why this egg? You liked it, we gave it to you — but not
only did you like it, it complements Siyaneth herself, with its links
and potential, its moods of its own.

Why Siyaneth? There's such a flow to her name, that
complements yours as shortened. Nada and Siyaneth. Both flow, with
never a stutter for them! And so it'll be for you.

Of course Siyaneth's green — but what green? Hers is the deep,
intense vine-green of creeping ivy, manicured even if now and again
she /does/ run wild. (And she does.) A brush of ruddy-blue violet
shadows her underwings and slips over her belly, more for drama than
anything like a shrinking violet. (Though, right there where her
haunches come up to the belly, that's where she itches the most.)
And she has a roundness to her, too, not only with her tendency to
indulge but in the bones; still, at maturity she'll be deft,
occasionally flighty for the fun of it, not as fast as some greens
but with surprising endurance.

Speaking of indulgence, Siyaneth has a tendency to indulge herself
(and you). There's nothing better than a good stretch, bath and
oiling, with some gossiping right in the middle. She also has a
tendency to overeat, and here, Nada will have to restrain her lest
she gorge. As for how she eats — that depends on the time of day.
Sometimes she'll be neat, sometimes messy… all with a running
commentary to Nada (along with anyone interesting who seems
interested) about how wonderful everything tastes, of course! (And
if it doesn't taste wonderful, well, someone's going to pay. At
least, until she forgets about it.)

Y'see, Siyaneth, she has moods. Much later on, you'll learn to know
she's proddy when she becomes serene like sunshine, … like the
calm before the storm. They tend to follow a day cycle, or a
time-after-waking-up cycle: in the morning, she prefers a slow
start, feeling more languid and sultry (possibly known as 'lazy'); in
the afternoon, she's rambunctious (in a playful, not pranking way);
and the evenings, those are for flirting and conversation when all
the flying's done (or ground drills, or whatever's on the agenda).
When she's young, she may seem lazy all the time, because she's not
up for very long because it's bedtime again! Moody, moody, moody she
is, but unlike Jurayath that swiftly changes as he encounters this
or that, or Llynth's that takes Turns to sweep around, your
Siyaneth's moods could have a clock set to them. Oh, when her paw
gets stepped on or she sprains a wingtip, she won't like that at any
point in her cycle, but she's much more apt to lick it and nurse it
better in the mornings, in the afternoons to pounce the poor dragonet
who did it to her, and in the evenings to give him what for /and/
make sure the weyrlingmasters' dragons know exactly whose fault it

[Note: feel free to switch these around as you need to compared to
your logins, if otherwise you'd mostly only be on at the same
mood-time all the time — we want this to be fun for you. :) ]

Conversation, we mentioned? Quite the conversationalist is
Siyaneth. She even has a tendency to gossip, even though usually
only Nada ever gets the full report. Still, gossiping with her
clutchmates, and then with other females, that can come close.
She'll report the attitudes that others have along the way, too, and
isn't shy about listening to humans' conversations even while
portraying dramatic obliviousness with a sweep of wing, a paw over
her muzzle. (She'll even let them rub her muzzle, for the attention,
but like her dam, she's not big on getting her eyeridges rubbed.
She wants to be able to /see/.) On sweeps, Siyaneth likes to contact
the watchdragons and get the hold gossip from them. Even if she
doesn't know (or remember!) the folks involved, she likes to find out
all she can.

Not that she'd tattle on /Nada/, at least, not on purpose. Even if
it's for Nada's own good, still she'd have what in humans would be a
philosophical issue with it, as best friends commonly do. How can
you tell when to tell a secret? As such, she'd tend to feel very
guilty about it, especially if it weren't life-threatening; she
likely wouldn't be able to restrain herself from talking about it to
Nada first. Teasing is another story: » I know something you don't
know… « for all that anyone who knows her is likely to realize
she'll swiftly spill the beans if it's not about Nada herself.

Nada /is/ that important to Siyaneth; it complements how Siyaneth's
like the best girl friend, twin sister, next door neighbor that
Nadara never had at that runnerhold. The most specific constant in
her life will be that overwhelming devotion she feels for her chosen
one; it's seconded by the sun going up and down, and by her
companionship with her clutchmates and the rest of the Weyr. Even
when she's sexually mature and begins to notice the male dragons (and
she'll do so earlier than many in her clutch), the males will come
and go, but her love for Nada will never wane in any mood.

Moody is Siyaneth, and she likes the weather just as Nada does.
Sweeprides are rarely boring for her because the clouds look
different, the air smells different, all of that. Like her internal
clock, she'll find sweeprides rewarding — constant — and what
happens in them rewarding — different. She also shares Nadara's
Rhioth's) sense of justice, even if her idea of justice is rather
more person-oriented (even Nada-and-Siyaneth-oriented) than theirs.
;) Did her clutchmate step on her paw? Why, then his rider owes
hers a boot-polishing. It's as easy as that.

Not that Siyaneth is particularly fastidious; like her sire, she can
handle clutter, knickknacks, all of those. If it thrills Nada to
pile up unwashed socks in the corner of their weyr, once they get one
— that's fine by her. She isn't picky about music, either,
though she's fond of it (it doesn't take much; humming will do), both
serenading and being serenaded (which to the uninitiated may sound
more like howls), plus the thump and stomp and sway of humans'
dancing, especially the rowdy line dances. Don't give her anything
too terribly subtle, especially if it's at all monotonous; no, she
enjoys a good up-and-down fiddle, especially the haunting melodies
when she really is proddy: country, folk, that's her realm.

But as for her 'voice'? Your Siyaneth, it's not that she's off-key
precisely — it's that she changes keys all the time, and who's to
know which will be next? Physically and mentally, she's usually a
warm contralto… that can at times spike into a coloratura soprano
screech when she's baited. As colors go, Siyaneth's a breath of
fresh air — and yet she's also a warm and fuzzy brown for that
languidness, a vivid yellow-orange mix for playfulness, and a
lighter, flimsier lavender with yellow accents of laughter when she's
more flirtatiously seeking attention. Delightful.

Parentage: Arien's Katrineth + M'gael's bronze Theronth
Egg: Ardano
Dragonet: Talisen, M'gael, B'nal, Arien, Adara

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