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It was an odd place to pick to nestle, given the much better options available for dragons, but the hatching sands were also a lot more empty. On occasion he’d see a few dragons tussle and play on the easier to land on sand, but it wasn’t the weyrbowl or fireheights, and that was enough. Fela has asked him to leave his ledge for once—she had been patient with his hermiting ways for more than a month and a half now—and as always he avoided the argument and acquiesced. Even that still bothered her, but...Well, there wasn’t much in terms of winning options as far as the blue was concerned.

Soph had always been on the thin side, but with his dulling hide and lack of energy to do more than sleep and fly drills and Thread, he seemed almost gaunt as he traipsed into the sands, billowing a small wind upon landing. It was as good a place as any to continue thinking.


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"This is getting out of hand," Dr'stan told his green, frowning after her dull colored brother. He didn't move to follow when she obeyed his unspoken request, padding along the sand to find Sophrosunth. *Brother, my Dr'stan is concerned that you are not taking excellent care of yourself,* she said softly, settling in a place where once her own egg had lain. *Is that true?* the little green asked, peering over with a hint of yellow whirling within her green gaze.


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_< Hmm? >_ Having comfortably settled down in a depression between miniature dunes, he had just been ready to lay his head down when his sister’s voice was heard. He tucked in his legs and raised his head back up. _< Oh. Ah, hello, Cynosuth._> It was a little easier to see the purple in his eyes when addressing someone, but there were tinges of yellow and gray. _< I, ah...There have been better days, I suppose, yes. But nothing serious. >_


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Cynosuth took in the picture of Sophrosunth, gazing up and down his form, where there were clear signs of distress. *Oh?* she said archly, putting volumes of meaning within the single word. *It does not look like 'nothing serious' to me, or to anyone else who knows you, my dear brother.* Which really, considering that there did not appear to be an exterior reason for such a state, meant that something was bothering him.


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_< I can fly. I can fight. >_ He was patient, if subdued. _< If they let me, at least. Compared to Thanoth, to Macuith and C’lusi? This is nothing at all. But if this too has alarmed you, I apologize. >_


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Given that the green's own hide had for many months held a similar grey hue, she did not judge him. Yet... *It is not nothing. You are not eating well, it seems... or else you are pining away what little you have eaten.* That was not the look of a healthy blue, by any means.


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He gave a quiet sigh through his nose, looking sheepish. _< Yes, indeed...I will hunt in a moment. Were you in need something, my dear? >_ Soph asked, hoping to move the conversation away from him.


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*I need to know that my brother is not going to guilt himself into an early trip* between, she said, watching the blue with some concern. Too many of their own siblings were in dire straits as it was. Why add himself to the list?


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Sophrosunth should have looked alarmed that someone else had thought of that. Two months ago he would have fallen into a babbling verbal river explaining exactly why he would never consider such a thing. But dragons _betweening_ from absolute shame was not unheard of. And the sin he had committed was uncharacteristic, _catastrophic_ even. It would be a lie to say Soph had not considered it for the briefest of moments in his darkest hours after the fact. Some might have called that an overreaction—if a dragon suicided every time they made a mistake, Pern would have been doomed ages ago—but it was so much more than that. Macuith and C’lusi had simply been the most obvious symptom of what plagued blue Sophrosunth.

He should have babbled. Instead, he said quietly, earnestly, bleakly, _< I won’t. >_


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Cynosuth turned to look fully at Sophrosunth. *What is going on with you, brother? Why are you so sad?* What had caused this... this melancholy? This grief? It didn't make sense. Surely he did not blame himself for all of the troubles of their clutch, of their Weyr? She settled down onto the sand, one wing slightly open for balance.


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The yellow in his eyes swirled at her approach. More than anything at the moment, he hated that he was distressing his sister so much. It was why Soph had stuck to his ledge when duty wasn’t calling. He hadn’t realized what steeping himself in his spiral of thoughts would look like to others. Worse, to be seen as anything other than simple, calm Sophrosunth...He was failing in so many different ways these days, why not one more?

_< I consider this my penance, >_ he replied. _< At least in part. To mourn until Macuith is well again. >_


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Was he serious? Cynosuth peered at Sophrosunth again. *Macuith* himself *is not so grieved, and he certainly has every reason. So why make yourself ill with such thoughts when he would rather you celebrated him?* she asked, resting her head against the sand. How strange indeed to see her brother in such a light.


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_< Our brother has a certain...>_ Wasn’t there a phrase for it? Something from the old world? Soph struggled to think for a few seconds before continuing, _< inclination towards the positive and the pleasurable. He _ would _bounce back rather quickly. >_ Soph sounded faintly affectionate. _< That is his nature. >_


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*Perhaps you might do penance by visiting him,* Cynosuth said softly. *He is not as... bouncy as you might assume. Lonelier, for one.* For another thing, it had not escaped her notice as they had grown up together that some among their clutch seemed uncomfortable with their hedonistic brother. Sophrosunth was not among them, yet Macuith, ever observant, had certainly taken note. That he did not presently have many visitors no doubt was confirming his own perspective.


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_< I will, >_ he promised, uncurling his tail so that it touched her. A peace offering, he hoped. _< I wanted to give them time. Space. >_ Because Soph was not eager to accidentally run into Menankith or Viandarth, or their riders. _< I can’t imagine either of them being lonely for long, if they ever were. >_


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Cynosuth shook her head at her brother. *I do not doubt that he enjoys his lovers' company. However, would you truly wish, were you so social, to spend your time* only *in your mate's presence? And if only your mates would visit, how might you feel?* For indeed, Cynosuth knew her brother *very* well indeed. *You seem to have somehow mistaken Macuith... perhaps as he wishes you to.*


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He pondered that for a while, letting his head rest at last so he could stare out over the expanse of the sands. _< I wouldn’t know, I suppose, >_ Soph said at length, giving a weak chuckle. _< If what he has is anything close to what is there with C’lusi? It seemed more than enough with thrice that. Quadruple, even. I admit it seemed like a dream from the outside looking in, what Macuith and Menankith have, and what Monath and Zenobiath have. It didn’t seem something the aggressor should disturb. >_


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Watching Sophrosunth, Cynosuth stretched out fully on the sand. *It is not enough. Friendship is always important. I would not trade any of my friends for a life alone with just a lover or even two. It may seem a dream, but Macuith is... probably the most social of all of us, and is very lonesome indeed. He would welcome your 'disturbance', you know.* Would have welcomed it when they were small, in fact. It had not been an easy road for the blue, to be sure. Not that he was alone in having a difficult path to follow.


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_< Yes, well...>_ Soph shifted so that he could look at her, another half-hearted attempt at humor punctuating his words. _< Shouldn’t our visitations be focused on you feeling better? How have you been? >_ What a terrible sibling, to be asking this late into the conversation.


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*I am much the same,* she murmured, closing her eyes and curling to rest under one wing. *But our visitations should not be focused on me. I am not... not in mourning, simply at an awkward place.* In its own way it was just as difficult.


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_< A running theme, it would seem. Although now it is my turn to be Menankith’s target. >_ A pause. __


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*What is there to say?* she would ask, tucking further beneath that wing. *We would only make ourselves miserable with past... mistakes.* And perhaps it was not fair of her not to completely forgive the nature of those mistakes. *How are you his target?* she inquired.


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_< Why wouldn’t I be? >_ It seemed a simple fact—that, and according to Fela, it seemed Nadry had avoided them both for at least a sevenday after the incident. How she could tell when a rider’s schedule and being in different wings made it difficult to really hang with anyone, let alone in as large a weyr as High Reaches, was beyond Sophrosunth, but he believed her because it fit his narrative.

_< Perhaps that is wiser in the end. I’m in no position to tell you otherwise, ahah, >_ he said. _< As long as are you are feeling better. >_ His hearts had ached to see her so low; and now the tables had turned.


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This did not sit well with Cynosuth. *You did not mean to hurt Macuith. Macuith* misses *you. If Menankith is being unfair, I will tell him as much,* she said, a hint of disapproval entering her tone. That they had made a mistake was clear, but to be punished for it to this extent when they were already punishing themselves quite well enough on their own? *I will remind him that he has not been imperfect in his dealing with his siblings, if need be.*


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That made him sit up abruptly. _< No need, >_ Soph said quickly, anxious of adding anything more to his mess. _< You have been through enough, Cynosuth. Please. >_


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*That may be so,* Cynosuth said quietly, a note of deep disappointment in her voice, *But this is not okay.* And although she *understood* such anger... it would ultimately help no one and would harm multiple someones.


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He attempted to move, forgot his claws had partially buried themselves in the sands, and ended up stumbling towards the green ungracefully. _< This is of my own making, >_ Soph said, attempting to shake sand off without getting it blown in Cynosuth’s direction. _< I would rather it not disturb you and Yours, or anyone else. >_


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Grieved by the situation, Cynosuth coiled up more tightly. *Sophrosunth, you must not blame yourself unjustly. Yes, you made a mistake. And I have no doubt that you will try extra hard to not repeat it. But to... to make of yourself a martyr, to castigate yourself so?*


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With a soft kreel, Sophrosunth settled next to her, stretching a wing over her and pressing his snout to her shoulder. It was a familiar position, and in spite of the current situation he felt a little better because of it. _< I felt it was right to suffer, >_ he said softly. _< Surely you understand, however wrong the reasoning. >_


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*I understand, yet... yet I cannot like it. He would not want you to suffer. I do not want you to suffer. You are not a monster, you are a dragon who has erred. You need practice, not to self-flagellate.* She burrowed into the sand, letting her brother's presence soothe her slightly.


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A few odd looks passed their way. Soph had forgotten that this was not the privacy of someone’s weyr, and self-consciousness wanted to hit him like a brick. He blunted it for Cynosuth’s sake and dug in as well. _< I’m sorry, dearest. >_


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The hatching sands were hot and... reminded the little green of happier times. Perhaps they might garner strange looks, but Cynosuth did not care. Let them stare, if they so chose. *You should be drilling, not hurting yourself,* she said softly. *If you are worried, then that route at least is not self-destructive.*


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_< I have been diligent about practice, >_ he promised. It was the only time he was really active, so Fela made sure he gave it his all.


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With a sigh, Cynosuth considered Sophrosunth's words. *And visiting our brother?* she asked, knowing that it was a balm that was needed for them both. If only he but dared.


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_< I...will visit within a sevenday, >_ he offered hesitantly. He knew it was the right thing to do, but he had always been bad about acting in the moment.


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*Fine,* Cynosuth said, closing her eyes and resting against the sand. *But try to take care of yourself, please? If not for yourself, then perhaps for me? For Macuith?* She didn't understand everything that had taken place, but that did not make her any less worried.


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He tilted his head until he could all but bump his headknobs against her. _< Very well, >_ Soph said. Remembering others could be affected was a strong motivator, if nothing else; it had been a different beast when it was just Fela. _< I’d like to apologize again for worrying you so. A thousand apologies, really. >_


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She accepted the gesture for what it was... and returned it in kind. *You are forgiven. But only if you do go see Macuith,* she added, very stubborn on that point. It seemed that her brothers had a terrible tendency to be very, very obtuse when it came to matters of the hearts. Sophrosunth was not exception.


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_< Yes, ma’am, >_ he replied, adopting Fela’s mannerism for a moment. Another stab at a joke. _< I promise. And I wouldn’t want to add Oathbreaker to my name after all of that, ahah. >_


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*I accept your oath,* Cynosuth said solemnly, raising her head out of the sand. Granules slid off of her hide like rain, but she didn't seem to notice or care. *I will hold you to it. And to better self treatment as well. If Mine noticed it I have no doubt other healers will.*


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Sophrosunth winced. It was entirely possible that Fela had avoided or diverted a healer’s notice through sheer force of will. In complete opposition to his take, she had been ready to throw down with anyone that took exception to how they were doing, or what they had done. He bowed his head as if a knight. _< There’s a lot to accomplish, >_ he agreed. _< Er...But if you aren’t busy, would you mind terribly staying? It would be nice to take small steps back towards society by sharing company again, and, ah, I think family should be first. It can be in silence if you’d rather. >_


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Curling up once more, Cynosuth laid her head upon her own flank. *I do prefer silence most of the time. It is better than words when words cannot...* Words could not make everything right. *Suit.* But silence need not be the silence of mourning. Companionable silence would do.


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For the first time it what felt like a long while, Soph began to relax just a little; he had thought he was asking for too much, honestly, to maintain physical contact. She was right: words wouldn’t quite suffice in that regard, and he hadn’t known it until he initiated contact. _< I’ve begun to learn the value of silence, myself. And the weight of it especially. Although never fear, I remain as long winded as ever. >_

There was a false start of the peace as the blue sidled closer, the words bubbling up despite himself as he settled. _< Thank you. >_ Two simple words, but thankfully they could be accompanied with a gentle wave of gratefulness and love.

There was a deeper issue at work, but at the very least he could patch things up in the present. For now, tackling the immediate problem was enough.