It is the thirty-first Turn of the Tenth Pass.
The author's handwriting seems to flow in a lazy, somewhat tired manner, drifting across the hide's surface like a leaf floating upon a dallying stream. Occasional splotches appear amidst the writing, as if the ink is old, and in need of replacement.
Urzketh is a month old. A month old. I can't believe how fast he's growing - although, I shouldn't be surprised with all the oiling, feeding, oiling, feeding, mucking I've been having to do. Keeps me occupied, and out of trouble, at least. Even I'll admit that.
At this point Fyria attempts to sketch a quick, miniature portrait of the blue dragonet. Attempts.
Okay, so I'm not an artist per say, but - close enough. The others are just as amazed at how quickly time has gone by. Even that ex-weaver S'titch has been too busy to annoy me like he usually does. I swear, though, if he comes within one inch of me with those garish coloured outfits of his, I'm going to sock him one.
I received a letter from Lemos today - they're practically still celebrating the fact that they have a dragonrider in the family. Even my younger brother, who was Searched yet didn't Impress up at Igen, was thrilled. I can't wait for Urzketh to learn to fly ::between:: - one of the first places I'm going to go is home! Alas, that's still a Turn away however. It'll be here soon, though. I know it.
And speak of the little guy, he and Kihaelth decided to attempt a 'self-oiling' the other day. Made quite a mess in the barracks, even though they did eventually succeed in getting oiled, by myself and Tevya of course. EVen the typically stoic Wyn and equally stoic Vorkoroth were amused. Of course, the cleanup wasn't too funny, but the barracks, or at least half of them, never looked so clean! I wonder if the weyrlingmasters will notice.
The best news, however, is that we finally were allowed out of the barracks today! And of course, it rains. Urk was funny, though, since he kept wanting to know more about the 'water that fell from the sky.' We saw Purr, Lors, and dragons - in fact, Urk decided to play stalk-and-pounce with Farleth's tail. At least Farleth was amused. It felt good to grab fresh air, though. I hope we can visit the living caverns soon - it's funny, I didn't realize how much I'd miss them, until I haven't seen them for a month. Life is funny like that.
Urk's calling to be oiled again. Itches are the draconic equivalent to growing pains, literally. Hopefully I'll come back and write more after this. Hold that thought.