"You are kidding, aren't you?"

The small brown dragon looked a little hurt. But I am. It's not my fault!

Al'rio sighed, then chuckled softly, giving the weyrling a good scratch. "I never thought one little dragon could eat so much!" he exclaimed, grinning now.

Nabaleth shifted and got down from the temporary cot he slept on in the weyrling barracks. The other weyrlings were busy doing chores or feeding and oiling their young dragons and the newly-named Al'rio couldn't help but marvel at his position.

Not long ago he would have been loathe to spend any significant amount of time with so many bodies, but now... Now he had Nabaleth and everything was different. Sweeter, somehow. He'd even made a few friends.

Following the brown's waddling gait, the weyrling made his way to the nearby weyrling-kitchens where meat awaited chopping and careful feeding to the young dragons.

He took a sharp knife and began to slice the wherry-meat thinly. "Not too big a piece or they'll choke," the Weyrlingmaster had said. The words echoed through Al'rio's head like a dream, and for a brief moment, he thought he was indeed asleep. It was all an elaborate imagining... "Ouch!"

Rio! Nabaleth cried in alarm. What's happened, are you alright! His eyes whirled a worried yellow.

The weyrling took his finger from his mouth and looked at the blood oozing from the small cut. He smiled. "I'm fine, Nabal. Don't worry." I guess it's real after all, he thought before kneeling and carefully feeding his young lifemate.