Faranth Bless My Sands

[Onyxaeon]

Varanth's lips lifted in a snarl, a rolling hiss pouring from behind his clenched fangs. A low, rumbling growl coating the back of his throat as he lowered his wedged skull to be eye level with the young male. You do not have to do anything, candidate.You do not /have/ to respect me, and you do not /have/ to stand on these Sands on the day of his hatching. You were not born into this Weyr; it is not your birthright to stand to be bonded with a dragon. He would find a rider without you being there. Perhaps one who deserves the right to Impression more than you yourself. A gust of air blew from the dragon's nostrils, tugging at the fabric of Faltair's clothing. His many lidded eyes took on veins of reddish tints, the irritation fueling his words pouring into his irises. Take all my preconceptions and turn them into the truth. Take all my doubts and leave only what I should see of you. Take the weight of the dragon that landed in your lap to heart, because that doesn't go away. It's like the thread in our skies; it'll always be there, even if it's not always seen. No matter what you do to get rid of it, how stupidly you act toward it existing, or how you try to ignore it, it'll always be there. The ebony maw placed before the candidate lurched forward, tilted lower so as not to strike his head, but his torso with enough force to put him upon his back. He had a point to make and, by Faranth, whatever it took, he would make it apparent. We all have our reasons for what we do. From time to time, even we do not recognize ourselves for how we act. Tell me, if you are simply so narrow minded as to believe you do not have other sides to show someone, how do you expect to be an example for someone? Anyone? Leading means being different, and standing above it all, but holding true to your values. You change those around you by how you change yourself to be a better soul. Be the person others only wish they were, not the one they look upon and shake their heads. I am who I am because of my Mine. Because I look after my Weyr, and those I call my own. Even after leaving here, I don't forget those who have called this place home. I am who I am because I have learned. Tell me, what's your excuse? The Onyx lowered himself once more, though this time to press the tip of his snout against Faltair's chest, pushing him down faintly. He could easily get up and away, thought he look of the black beast at the current moment suggested he wait it out. Don't you dare get up unless you mean what you've said. Don't you dare lie to him. I do not care what you think of me, but I will tear bit by bit from you from here until I reach the Eastern Continent if you go back on your word.

D'ron cleared his throat, moving to stroke his dragon's outstretched neck as he now stood over Faltair, eyes bearing down upon him. "You will wait longer for your punishments, Faltair. If you will play on my nature, than I will play on his. I will let your dragon decide your punishment. On the Sands, go to your knees and confess to him of what you have done. He will decide what shall be done if anything, and I will go along with whatever is said. I trust his judgment." The onyx lifted his head, turning around to go back to his mate as he dismissed the candidates one by one. D'ron extended a hand to the younger male, pulling him up to his feet. At that very moment, Varanth looked back. It's not how many times you've been knocked down; it's how many times you get back up. Prove me wrong.