Chi’fel bowed his head before his mother and father, holding his tongue. It is only a visit, he reminded himself, and as soon as they tire of needling us, they’ll depart. Haraenowath heard, but it barely blunted her anger.
“A decent view,” his father said, looking out over the Bowl while maintaining a healthy distance from the ledge. His mother lifted her head haughtily at Chi’fel’s living space instead, eyes sweeping the rugged furniture and lingering on the small green who barely filled her couch when she stretched. “A lovely and delicate animal, to be sure,” she remarked, “of fine breeding, but it is such a pity your choice prevents you from leading a Wing.”
Hara choked down a growl, but Chi’fel’s mother didn’t hear. “Explain to me again why you squandered your Heirship running down the stairs to embrace this green?”
Chi’fel had a gracious answer on his lips, but Haraenowath rose from her bed like a serpent, eyes ruby-red. I would not presume to speak about his choice, Lady, when it is my mine, right now, you should be worried about.
I am not an animal, thank you. And just because I am green does not mean anything about what I can amount to. No, such a delicate, fineboned beast as myself could not be wingleader but if you knew the first thing about dragons you’d know a wingleader is a formation position, not a statement of power. There are a thousand ways to be powerful that don’t involve force, something I’m aghast you’d forget, Lady. I picked Chi’fel out of all the minds in the Weyr because I knew him to be kind and generous, and I knew that he would lend a helping hand to all my clutchmates who might need it -- no thanks to the teachings of you ingrates. She hovered over the Lady’s trembling figure, the Holder just now realizing that even a small, still-growing green was many times her size. I believe in Chi’fel, and love him, and will support him no matter what he chooses. Bond is family and that’s what family does.
In the resounding silence, Chi’fel added cooly, “The weyrlingmasters rarely tolerate grievances against weyrlings. It does not foster good ties between Weyr and Hold.”
With nary a word, the wide-eyed Lord and Lady and all their entourage turned and left.
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The Virtues series is the last chance for your dragonet to reflect on themself as an unbonded individual, and the last chance to sort out what they would like in a bond. When Hatching and Impression come, what went before will fade into dream. What does the virtue on display mean to your dragonet? How important is it in their choice of rider? Is this lesson one that will stick with them, or does it seem of no consequence?