[Statistics] [Candidate] [Adult]

Stinking of phosphorescent firestone and exhausted from a day's fighting, Cr'den and Mirioth returned to their weyr in good spirits. Threadfall was a terrifying time for a dragon and rider, but although they were still young, this particular pair had done well. Only a minor Threadscore marred Mirioth's tan-brown hide, one from their very first Threadfall.

The young man recalled the day of their graduation from weyrling to dragonrider - the day Thread fell - with a small shudder. It seemed so long ago, and yet was so fresh in his memory still. They had been so sure they would succeed unscathed.

We are better now, Mirioth remarked at his rider's thoughts. It will never happen again.

"Of course it will, Mir," Cr'den disagreed. "We have hundreds of Threadfalls ahead of us. The odds are against us, I'm afraid."

Mirioth grunted. Perhaps. I still think we are better now, though.

Cr'den smiled, nodding. "Of course we are. We were just weyrlings then. Now we fight in a Wing, and we have experience behind us. We will keep getting better all our lives, I think."

Dismounting, Cr'den continued into his weyr as Mirioth turned and entered his own adjacent weyr. The two were connected by a broad entrance-way so that dragon and rider could converse and Cr'den could visit his beloved brown if he needed consolation or just a warm place to sleep.

"It happened so quickly!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

What, 'Fall?

He chuckled and stuck his tongue out at the brown. "No, Mir, us! Growing up, and graduating and everything. It's almost unbelievable."

Mirioth cocked one draconic brow. Do you need me to bite you or something?

Cr'den did a double-take. "Sorry? Bite me?"

So you know you're not dreaming, the brown explained logically. You see, if you were dreaming then you'd...

Holding up a steadying hand, Cr'den laughed. "Okay, I get it, Mir. Silly dragon."

With a blue-eyed, innocent look, Mirioth asked sweetly, What did I do?