Needed

Writers: Corrin, Kane
Date Posted: 21st February 2026

Characters: S'kawa, K'valdran
Description: After a long day of drills, bronzerider S’kawa is approached with a new opportunity…
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 13, day 5 of Turn 12
Notes: Mentioned: NPC Wing

S'kawa

K'valdran

Dust rolled in low clouds across the Weyrbowl as riders came in one after another, dragons dropping from formation into practiced landings. All carried signs of heavy fatigue, the hallmark of drills spearheaded by their Wingsecond, S’kawa. Sacks were unbuckled and dumped for weyrlings to sort through later, their canvas dark with sweat and dirt, evidence of a drill no one loved and everyone needed.

Low altitude throwing. Repetition. Again and again and again.

Basic. Dull. And absolutely essential.

Tectonth landed like a falling wall and his wings snapped closed with the crack of heavy canvas. In his case it wasn’t fatigue. S’kawa knew his bronze could repeat the entire drill again. Tectonth simply liked to arrive with deliberate punctuation. The louder the thud the better. He swung down without any flourish, boots hitting dirt and already moving. He didn’t let the Wing wander off. Not yet. A sharp whistle cut through the Bowl.

“Circle up.”

S’kawa kept the debrief short, walking the Wing through their successes and mistakes in equal measure. He focused on timing failures and hesitation, reminding them that fundamentals weren’t something you mastered once and left behind. Strength, endurance, and rhythm were all trainable, and he demanded improvement, not excuses. Complaints were heard, tempers cooled, and responsibility pushed back onto teamwork rather than individual blame. The takeaway was simple. Progress had been made and they should relish it, but survival required more and S’kawa expected they would all return tomorrow ready to push harder.

As the riders dispersed in tired clusters, irritations dissolving into dark humor and the usual post-drill complaints, S’kawa remained. His two blue firelizards seized their opportunity to return to his shoulders with practiced symmetry, like twinned cobalt sentinels. Neither tail strayed to twine around his neck, they knew better. S’kawa braced his heavy leather notebook against Tectonth’s foreleg and began his post drill notes.

“They’re flying well,” came a familiar voice behind him.

K’valdran strolled up, cutting his way through the dispersing wing with a practiced ease, eased further by the deference he now commanded as Weyrleader.

S’kawa turned, the movement unhurried, his expression shifting into the faint, familiar smile reserved for very few people. He took in the new Weyrleader in a single glance.

“K’valdran,” he said, stepping in to clasp the man’s forearm and give a solid thumping on the back in both greeting and congratulations. “Weyrleader,” the smile grew wider with approval.

K’valdran thumped him back heartily, recognizing the celebration for what it was. He was beaming as he pulled away, his own smile sharp and white against his rider’s tan. “What can I say? Karcalanth heard promotion was slow these days and decided to take things into his own talons.”

There were other words K'valdran might use to describe the recent rank trends at Dragonsfall, words he _had_ used the other day with Saibra and earlier still when visiting S’kawa and the rest before his transfer-- but they didn't have the privacy of the weyrleader’s office or a quiet tavern corner, so he curbed his tongue and kept things light.

“Speaking of promotion,” he continued, cutting to the chase. “I want you as wingsecond for Summit. I know you've been angling for a Wing of your own again, and stars know you deserve it-- but I know myself. I need someone with experience, who can lead as well as follow-- because there'll be times I'm busy commanding the ‘Fall or finishing officework. I need someone who can spend a whole day drilling low altitude refuelings without destroying morale-- because the Weyrleader's Wing should be an example of excellence that challenges and inspires. I need you, S’kawa.”

S’kawa didn’t answer immediately, but the slight pause wasn’t because he was weighing up his options, he was letting the opportunity sink in. Summit. Weyrleader’s Wing. Truly as much, if not more, responsibility as any Wingleader might have. The trust and recognition offered by K’valdran validating. Decision made.

“You won’t have to ask me twice,” he said, a faint tinge of quiet pride threading his voice. “They’ll set the standard. I’ll see to it.”

S’kawa stepped in again, forearm clasp renewed, the grip solid and certain.

“You’ve got your Wingsecond.”

Last updated on the February 21st 2026

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Needed