Hammersmith and Whip kept a close eye on both one another, and the Humans all around them. They weren't all that wary the whole time, though, and at long last, they started to loosen up. When someone started a food fight in the weyr's dining hall, both elves were stunned - but only for a moment. Then, they both used their expert aim to send potatoes flying and lettuce went just everywhere.

When a deep voice bellowed for the room to get a grip on itself, Hammersmith and Whip both almost dove for cover below the tables. It was a surprise for both of them to see such wildly happy expressions on each of their respective faces.

**I didn't know that people did this!** Whip mentally exclaimed.

**We've never had this much food-** Hammersmith laughed and wiped his hand clean on the cloth that had slipped below the table's edge. **But I bet when we've gone home with dragons to help us hunt, we will!**

That brought both of them back out from the table, and they stood for their 'punishment' such as it was. Along with the other newcomers to the weyr - those who had participated (they checked hands, how clever) were set to clean the entire room - tables, cloths, benches, the ceiling (how in the world did someone get beet mash up there?!), as well as the floors, kitchen and all the plates.

Normally that would have taken everyone weeks to do, but there were so many participants... Whip and Hammersmith opted to to the walls and ceiling, since they could climb most easily up the tapestries or rough hewn walls.

It wasn't much later, perhaps an eight of days, when the tension in the weyr broke with the bellowing and crooning of the dragons on the sands.

Everyone was assembled, and given their white hatching robes. Whip tugged at the neck on his, hoping he didn't look like such an idiot - like Hammersmith did.

When the first of the clutch was a brown, everyone exploded into applaudse and the elves nearly dove for cover again.

**Humans do such odd things!** Hammersmith thought, but his attention was caught by that stout dragon who hatched.

Why does your name end in 'th'? Are you a dragon as well? The dragon thought. Inside, Hammersmith felt a name: Halith. He laughed, and explained that no, Hammersmith was more ... a title, than anything else.

Of course, then he had to explain why he didn't use his true name, his soul name, for people to know.

They waited by the bowls of meat, as other dragons hatched. A green, then a blue (arrogant little thing!) came from their shattered shells. Another brown broke free, and the first perked up.

They watched as the dam of the clutch attempted to help her hatchling out of his egg, but he snarled at her and did it all by himself, thank you very much. The green dam told him not to trip, and naturally there he went, tumbling across the bumpy sands.

He landed right in front of the elf, Whip. Right, just where I wanted to be, right Whip?

**I'd say, Loireth!** Whip thought. There was nothing like this - even his bond to Alliance was thready and weak compared to the vibrancy of this dragon's mind against his. It was a sure bond - one which, supposedly, might last as long as they lived.

Hardly a day went by without the dragons asking 'where was the Holt' and 'what is the difference between humans here and humans there?' Hammersmith and Whip were all but exhausted from trying to explain things. They were quite happy when the dragons were going to be flying. Their training was slightly different than the humans and full-sized riders. People still - even months after bonding - thought of the pair of rathermuch older elves as children because of their size.

"Now, Whip," said the weyrling trainer, "I know you say you've had riding experience, but that was what - with a ... cat? Didn't you say you rode a cat?"

There were some snickers from other weyrling pairs. But Whip nodded, and carefully said - in the human tongue they'd learned quickly - "sir, Alliance was not a ... house-cat. She was a very large, very dangerous feline. Bigger than most of her kin."

"Well that may be so," the weyrling master said holding his belt with both hands, "but this is dragonriding, and I don't think that your cat could jump quite so high into the sky."

"No, sir, she could jump down pretty well though." He smiled. The snickering turned to laughter, and Whip found that rather than being angry with them for mocking him, he understood how to remember his cat with love and laughter.

Hammersmith tried to maintain his composure, though it was hard. These humans were so presumptuous to laugh. They would not be laughing when he and Halith took to the sky.

Halith tossed his head, and placed his brown arm down for the elf to get onto his shoulder. Their dragons were ... dragon-sized. And while the humans still had to climb a bit to get on their dragons, the elves' size played both for and against them. Both elves were expert at climbing. After all, Bald Mountain was their home, and it had lots of places to climb, scale or leap from. It was no harder to climb the dragon's back than to jump into a tree after all. But their dragons dwarfed them quickly - and though both Whip and Hammersmith were good hunters for their tribe, they knew that the dragons were going to have to hunt for themselves sooner or later.

"Now, the straps you've had made will help you hang on. Whip, Hammersmith, you two have those other harnesses we talked about?" The weyrling master asked.

"I've got mine," Hammersmith said, "but I don't think Halith likes it very much.

I do not like it at all! The dragon snorted.

"You'll learn to like it, unless you want me falling off your back," Hammersmith said, throwing an extra loop around the dragon's neck and sitting between it and the main strap. It did feel better than just clinging on, but obviously Whip wasn't much happier than Halith.

"Loireth and I would like to protest," he muttered. "This isn't how I rode Alliance."

"Well the cat probably couldn't dump you five hundred meters into a lake, either," the weyrling master stated, "so you'll use them until you get to your tribe's home. If you don't want to use them there, that's your own problem, but while you're my responsibility you ride with them or not at all."

"Yes, sir." Whip said, and grudgingly tied on the second strap. He understood it well enough, but it just wasn't right, putting these things on the dragon. He knew Apogee never flew her Two-Claws with a harness, and Farfire only half the time. But, so said the human, so it was.