J'den unabashedly beams at Kita's praise of his Heliuth. Yes, the guy is smitten, thank you very much. He gazes back at the sleeping bronze, smiling once again. Not that he ever stopped...J'den hasn't stopped smiling since the Impression. "He really is, isn't he?" He murmurs before turning back to the rider with a grin. "Heli fell asleep immediately. I'm jealous...but I can't close my eyes because I'd have to stop looking at him." Oi. He /has/ fallen hard for the dragon, hasn't he? "Thank you." Not that he could sleep right now for his life...but it's nice to know he has permission not to. 

D'baji walks backwards away from his Nverath, rubbing charcoal-smudged fingertips on the light-weight pants he's had the pleasure to change into. Oh ho, no more ratty looking robes for him, nope! The Long Bronze One gives a snort in his slumber, which brings a whole new smile to Baji's face, and a sleepy rub at his eyes as well. Blackened fingers are brandished to the others in a wave as he actually turns his gaze away from the sleeping Companion, a giddy grin coming as well. "Wow," is mouthed as the rest of his 'bonjour,' with a rather fond incline of his head towards the couch his dragon occupies.

Kita offers the also unable to sleep D'baji a smile of greeting.  "Can't sleep either?" she asks of him, head tilted slightly on the side.  Djarreth extends his neck towards the sleeping dragonet's couches, ever protective and just being sure they're okay.  "They're fine 'Reth," Kita grins, used to her dragon's whimsies.  "Nothing can get them here...I'm sure they're just overstuffed."  Kita turns back to the weyrlings, eyebrows raised.  There's something about being in the barracks when the new dragons are sleeping which sends a sense of calm and peacefulness around the cavern.  As a result, Kita is quite content.  "Are they all you dreamed?" she asks the two bronzers.

J'den turns around at the sound of another awed voice and grins at his fellow bronzerider. Someone else who most definitely understands the adoration he's feeling at the moment...and to think, yesterday he was without Heliuth. How could he have ever been without Heliuth? He looks back at Kita, mouth opening into a wide grin - even wider than the one he'd already been wearing. "Everything and more. He's perfect...no, he's better than perfect." And what's better than perfect, Jay? Oh well. He doesn't have to make sense tonight...

D'baji nods to Kita with a bit of a slow smile, awkward steps, due to the numbweed he'd smeared on his feet, burnt through forgetfulness to alternate them on the Sands, wearing off. "I don't want to, would be the truth of the matter," he offers, keeping his voice low, as if afraid he might wake someone. "To be perfectly honest," he starts, giving an overwhelmed shake of his head, "I'd never dreamed. Not of this, at least. He certainly makes things interesting, or at least to think about. But finally we no longer have to think in 'ifs' and that is a relief in itself." Bronzerider, as he'll have to get used to thinking of himself that way, turns back with an almost longing look to the couch, wondering at his idea of stretching his legs. "But in the end, it's really rather... indescribable. You know, if you ride, but you never know, you know?" The shared hunger and tiredness of his lifemate is obviously starting to wear on him as he talks like this. "I suppose it's a totally different feel, a different spin on everything."

Kita listens intently to the both of them, D'baji's attempts at discription getting a small frown from the brownrider which she hastily covers up. "I...see..." she finally acknowledges, a small smile of amusement at the weyrling antics.  Djarreth rumbles deep in his throat and Kita responds with a pat.  "I'll have to leave you now guys.  Djarreth and I are due for our sweeps.  Try and get a little sleep if you can- tomorrow brings new experiences."  From years of experience, Kita expertly mounts her beloved brown, and nudges him towards to exit.  "See you both on the morrow."  And with that, she is gone.

J'den watches the departure of Kita almost wistfully. Just think, eventually he'll be able to ride Heliuth like that...Swoon. He grins back at the other insomniac. Or something like that. "So, Deb- D'baji," he corrects himself. The new name thing is going to take some adjustment... "How're you?" He glances back to his couch where Heli is sleeping, smiling lovingly. 

"On the morrow," is agreed with Kita as she leaves, and then the ex-Fishing dude gives a bit of a shiver about his shoulders. "The morrow! The morrow may as well just run into today," Jir comments (Aye, he's still gonna be a Jir), shifting on sore feet. "Don't bother with the names. /J'den./ It'll be too hard to establish new shortenings. And this one's quite a bit harder to shorten." He shrugs, a glance heading to the sleeping Nverath's couch. "I am... Content." And it might be odd for someone who's not properly spoken to him before to know how much this means, but the word itself is said with something of expression. It's something that's not been perfectly true for the restless man for quite some time. "And either hungry or tired or something. I can't exactly tell, it might be Ver. He's stirring," is added with a tender look, though that's quick to fade from his face.

J'den chuckles towards D'baji. "True. How /would/ you shorten D'baji? And I'm still going by Jay to some degree...it's harder to change the nicknames than the actual names." Philosophical, considering his present floaty state of mind. He nods at Deba's answer, grinning. "Me too. Content's a good word for it. And it's like...I've know Heliuth for such a short period of time and all of a sudden I can't remember what it was like without him..." Sigh. Yes, he'll quite easily spill all of his emotions when he's like this. "But anyway...I'm tired, so I think I'm going to at least /try/ to sleep." Try being the key word. He starts heading for his couch, sending a nod towards D'baji. "G'night...see you tomorrow. Or is it today?" Faranth knows what time it is. But with that, he's off, back to his new, handsome lifemate. Swoon. 

 Nverath senses that Xylyth thinks << Good morning >>

 Nverath senses that Bralath rouses, tendrils of sleep lacing his dark thoughts, molten tremors dancing in shifting swathes throughout. << Morning, indeed. >>

Nverath senses that Heliuth shifts in his slumber, mumbling in reply. <<And to you, clutchmates.>>

D'baji watches as yet another rider tromps off to attempt sleep, and, with so many people headed off to their own dragons, can't help but feel a bit hopeful for his own. Nverath gives an audible claw at the floor of his couch as his sleep becomes a bit more restless, and finally giving a snort as he opens the upper lid of one of those rainbow eyes. D'baji, of course, is at his side in an instant, reaching to rub at the bronze one's snout. At which point he is, no doubt, informed of an itch, already, and the rider is heading for the vat of oil.

Nverath senses that Xylyth streches, hints of amused green drifting through his words <<My rider says she feels strange>>

Nverath senses that he opens an eye, a foaming tiredness intertwined with the tenor of the bronze's mind-voice as he adds his thoughts to the general conversation. <<Morning it is. An itchy one at that.>> A bit of concerned purple adds to the thoughts. <<What is wrong with your rider?>>
                      
Kazra slides out of the couch, ribbons and hair dishevled, followed by Xylyth. Her expression hasn't changed, still bearing a bemused grin and startlement in her eyes. "Morning." she greets, before assisting Xylyth as the brown stumbles. "You're as sleepy as me, aren't you pet."

R'ian pads out of the depression of Bralath's couch, the bronze lumbering - almost - behind him, the behemoth to be not yet huge. Hunger, however, is huge: this particular weyrling moves directly towards the meat bins, and his lifemate, with some measure of speed, follows rapidly. Glancing up, R'ian grins hazily to those other weyrlings about, nodding his head. "Morning."

Nverath stretches one more time, twitching his itching shoulder, and deciding that it would really make more sense to follow his rider, rather than wait. So, he removes himself clumsily from his couch, plodding out and stopping short of the other dragons. D'baji is quick to return with a small jar of the promised oil to soothe that terrible itch, which the Long Bronze One warbles about more persistently as the hairy man draws nearer. "Morning already is it?" is asked to R'ian as Baji goes about tending to that terrible patch of hide, which is made well available for such treatment.

Kazra decides that moving further is to much effort, and sits promptly on the floor, Xylyth's head being dropped in her lap as she does so. "And how are you and your lifemates this morning?" she asks out of politeness and curiousity, rubbing Xy's eyeridges as she sits.

"Apparently." R'ian's voice is dubious at this - his tone wry in dry amusement. "So it seems." Bralath nudges molten bronze head towards the young man's midrift, forcing the point, to which R'ian finds an answer in the meatbins. Eyes are screwed shut, nose wrinkled, and hand dug into the gooey meat, to draw forth a messy handful, which is deposited down Bralath's maw. "Tired," says he, eyes opening. "But...good." There's that gooey grin, once more, painted perfectly upon his face. 

D'baji shrugs to Kazra, hiding a tender smile for his dragon as eyelids half-close with relief behind one of the bronzen wings. "I'm a bit tired as well," he admits after having regained control of his facial features, and popping up to peer at the others over a headknob. "Content." That's his description for his change in lifestyle now. He is now content.

Xylyth rumbles in pleasure at the scrathing, before another rumble is heard, this time from his stomach. Kazra grins and carefully slides herself out from under the brown head and heads off in search of food for the brown.

Bralath's headknobs, molten with fiery lava, nudge into the orange mass of R'ian's tunic; the weyrling, in response, shoves another handful of food into the dragon's mouth. "I think this is going to get old, quick," he announces, dubiously, although there's no doubt that he's enjoying the time spent in rapport with the dragon. "Content? I'd say--well, something better. Perfect."

D'baji steps away from Nverath's golden-hued shoulder, only to have a wingtip lashed towards a foamy neckridge. Obediently, he circles around to the other side, smearing some of the rubbing in some of the soothing stuff there as well while his lifemate turns a wedge-shaped head towards his clutchmates. Who are eating. "But... Being content is perfect," he says in a confused tone to R'ian, shaking his head for the difference of opinion. "Not wanting anything, perfectly happy in the moment... But not tiring in that way. What could be better?" Explain yourself, in other words. A grin for Kazra and her brown, and he points at her with his chin. "How 'bout you, how d'you feel?"

Kazra grins at D'baji "Strange. Happy, strange. It's a weird sensation." she says. As weyrling is just about to start reaching for a handful of meat to feed Xylyth, her heads whips around. "Okay, so now you'd rather sleep that eat. Back into the counch then, we don't need baby dragons sleeping in here." and Kazra starts to herd her lifemate back to their couch. "Think I'll join him." she waves to the others.

"Point," agrees R'ian, the bearer of the name wrinkling his nose in thought, which has another nudge earned from Bralath. One hand smoothes the young dragon's shoulders, the red, orange and blackened variations, hand soothed by the motion. "Sleep well, Kas--Kazra, sorry. You, and Xylyth."

D'baji nods to Kazra with a grin, and a wave of oily fingers as she retreats. Nverath even offers a croon to Xylyth and his rider before informing his own lifemate of a newly developped itch on his tail with an anxious flick of the overly-long thing. "You just like having it scratched!" is retorted with insane familiarity for a bond so newly formed as Jir (still Jir, he will /always/ be Jir, especially around those who knew him before the changed name) heads to the rear end. "Thank you," is given to R'ian, and the wiry bronze tail siezed and rubbed furiously. "I think he only claims itchiness," is added for the other rider's sake, an explanation of the discussion with his white-streaked lifemate. "He even seems to favour a good scratch over immediate feeding."

R'ian considers Bralath with eyebrows raised, no doubt response to some comment made by the curled up bronze, blood from his newly consumed meal blending in to the fluttered colouration of his form. "They're full of quirks like that, aren't they?" R'ian offers another handful of meat to his lifemate, who eats carefully, adding, "Bralath isn't *much* for oiling. I mean, it isn't a fascination, or anything. But he likes it, says it feels good. It's amazing how different they all are, from one another," he adds, marvelling over the sensations. 

D'baji finishes with an affectionate slap to the claimed 'itchy' area of the tail, heading to replace the small pot by the major vat of oil, as it's much easier to store there than anywhere else he can think of. Nverath stretches luxuriously, wiggling his newly oiled bits testily, and giving a deep, mellow rumble in his throat. "That's very true, they are different. Nverath eats to dissuade hunger, but wouldn't take it as a full time activity, for example," he offers, heading to the meat bin in what could be considered contradiction of himself. Though growing dragons do get hungry, so... "Of course, they are personalities, maybe even more so than those of our species... Like, canines can be different, but I doubt they vary as much as these great winged beasts." A rather big chunk of meat is taken, and Nverath hurries to join his clutchmate in the feeding, mouth gaping wide for the meat.

"I almost," admits R'ian slowly, as he gazes at his lifemate's tautly muscled form, "Hate to call them beasts of any form. Even though we're beasts, of our own accord, I suppose. I can't believe I could ever imagine that they were even remotely like fireliards." Bralath is patient in his response, huffing deeply to his lifemate in exagerated patience, whilst still poking his nose towards the meatbin, which is still the real occupation of his energy. "I feel as if I still don't know Bralath properly, even though I'm so close to him. There's...so much to know."

D'baji can't help but offer a proud smile for Nverath's willingness to feed, the meat barely chewed before it is gulped down, and mouth opened, awaiting more such donations. "I don't mean beasts as a derrogatory term, mind you," he clarifies, doing the service of more meat happily enough. "And no, I could never compare them to firelizards either. Lovely little bits of company, but nothing to this sort of bond." He pauses in reaching for more foodstuff for the foamy bronze, nodding slowly. "See, for me... Nverath is open, and I feel I know almost all of him. Since that first moment there..." His throat tightens with the emotion in that alone, and he clears it, not nervously, nor ashamed, but just to continue his talking. "He's so... Understandable, but in such an abstract way that I wonder at how many others could understand him as I do. If that makes sense?"

Bralath flicks his tail out, the expanse of molten rock mellifluously shifted out into the barracks - nearly tripping a scurrying weyrlingmaster, who frowns at R'ian. "Bralath, be careful," warns the young man, his lifemate contrite in expression and stance, if such a moue is possible. "Of course not," agrees R'ian, "But 'beasts'--well, to me, it seems at least slightly rude. I don't think Bralath is much offended by the term, though." Another handful of meat is fed to the cavernous belly of the beast - as it were - as the weyrling smoothes headknobs, ever delighted at this form of touch. "I think it makes sense. I know that I know Bralath, but I equally know that there are always going to be surprises. It's odd."

D'baji hides a grin and cough of laughter by leaning towards the bucket of meat, not wanting to have any friction with any of the Weyrlingmaster at this stage. No, not yet. Nverath tilts his head, almost avian-like in this motion, towards the WLM before returning with an open jaw for a bit more of the meat. "Surprises, aye. Always, I suppose is true. But Nverath... I can't explain, and if I could, I'm actually not sure I would. His take on things differs from mine, so I can't always interpret it, but it doesn't surprise me either is as far as I'll go into that, I suppose. Though he's an excellent conversationalist, it would seem. Not so much immediately after, but now. Of course, I suppose we could talk this through to tomorrow morning, and still wouldn't understand each other. Or, I doubt it. And it would be tiring." A little bit of the bloody meat-goop is offered for the dragon, who, upon finishing that, turns his head to other things.

R'ian emits a low chuckle, his agreement evident within his short bob of a nod towards fellow weyrling. "It would be. I guess we can leave it at the amazing fact that--well, they're ours, and we've a lifetime to get to know them in." This brings a brilliant smile to his face, and another nudge from volcanic Bralath, whose hunger is sated, but itchy, rough skin is not. Jumping to attention, the weyrling shifts his attention towards this, smoothing on the oil with his bare hands, rather than one of the provided paddles. 

"I would say, more or less, that they aren't ours, and we aren't theres. We, rider and dragon, just /are/. Or at least, on our part," D'baji finishes, tapping Nverath's snout to explain the final our. "A lifetime indeed, rather changed from what that lifetime would have been a few days ago, eh?" He shakes his head in wonder, a bit of a furrowed brow going smooth, along with the rest of his face, as will be his expression when conferring with his Companion. "Ver tires. And I must admit, I've hardly slept, and more than a few minutes would probably do me good as well." D'baji inclines his head to R'ian, first, and then Bralath, and Nverath offers a lower-pitched trill as he waddles, belly sufficiently re-bulged, to his couch. D'baji is soon to follow the sounds of the settling dragon.