"That's fair," D'cul nodded even as he was rebuffed as such. "Better to be proper and cautious than overbearing and rude. Please, Goldrider, if my presence is rude, I'd rather begone. I mostly came over to check how you are after what happened at the dance. I'm not here to try to curry favor for when Nykantiath rises, just concered for you."'You and every other bronze rider' Andronda thought silently, lips
tightening into a thin line. It wasn't his fault, she told herself.
And he may very well be honest in his motives, but... Well, Andronda
was far more accustomed to people like D'cul making nice to her to do
just that - curry favor. Her Weyrlingmaster and Weyrwoman had been
right in one regard for sure - when you rode a gold, you never could
really tell who was being nice to you because they were being nice, or
because they wanted something from you because you had a gold. If
anything, the fact that he was telling her that he wasn't looking for
favor only made her more certain that he probably *was* even if he
himself didn't realize it. Perhaps his bronze was putting pressure on
him; Nykantiath did that to her, so why couldn't a bronze to so to his
own rider as well?
"My apologies, D'cul. I don't mean to be so snappish. The heat, I
think, has gotten to me more than I would like to admit. I thank you
for your concern, but I assure you, I am fine."
"Life is NOT a journey to the grave with the goal of arriving safely
in a prettily preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways in a
shower of gravel and party shards, thoroughly used, utterly exhausted,
and loudly proclaiming: "F*** ME, that Rocked!!" -unknown