Tossing Sacks

Writers: Aaron, Devin, Estelle, Halyonix
Date Posted: 9th March 2026

Characters: M'sar, D'miran, Hesbia, H'lem, A'ten
Description: A group of weyrlings has some difficulty getting along as they practice tossing firestone sacks.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 13, day 22 of Turn 12
Notes: Caution for swearing.

Hesbia

"Come on, hold boy. You're not supposed to drop it," M'sar said to D'miran.

D'miran gritted his teeth. "I would if you'd throw it _to_ me, instead of three feet off to my left." Why did he always end up grouped with M'sar? True, they were a similar age and build, but surely the weyrlingmasters would have noticed by now that they didn't get on. He picked up the sack, turned and tossed it to the next weyrling in the chain.

H'lem was feeling very good about his ability to throw the sack. Catching it was another story. It was not so much that he did not have the muscle for it-- that, he did. He simply did not have the reach.

However, when the toss was perfect, he made it look easy.

"There we go! Great toss, D'miran." And then he passed it on. He might have given it a touch more oomph than he meant to. Maybe.

"Oh come _on_!" Hesbia complained loudly as she scrambled to try to get under it enough to catch it without it hurting her. She didn't even manage that. Right before it looked like it would collide heavily, she stepped aside enough to let it fall. "You're going to knock someone unconscious, throwing it like that!" she snapped at H'lem as she hefted it up. Her toss towards M'sar wasn't nearly as good as it could have been. Girls didn't have the same upper body strength as boys!

M'sar watched it fall a few armlengths away with a raised eyebrow. "You can do better than that." With a sigh, he picked it up and then tossed it toward D'miran, a little harder than he needed to.

The blue weyrling wasn't quite prepared, and he let out an "oof" and stumbled back a step as the heavily laden sack smacked into his chest. Once he'd regained his balance and his breath, he scowled at M'sar, dark eyes narrowed. "You did that on purpose!"

"Made sure it went straight to you this time, didn't I?" M'sar smirked.

"You'll be sorry when the Weyrlingmaster calls a change of direction," D'miran muttered. As much as he wanted to make a flawless throw every time, it'd be almost worth it if he could knock that annoying brownrider over on his backside. He turned on his heel, swung the sack and sent it sailing on to H'lem.

H'lem let out a grunt and a breath as he caught the sack. Then he peered at Hesbia and rolled his eyes more noticeably than he intended. He certainly did not want to knock her unconscious. So this time, he lobbed it as gently as one could possibly lob a sack full of heavy stone. Never mind if she had to step toward it to catch it.

She didn't. But it was because she caught H'lem's expression. "What's that look for?" she demanded to know as the sack landed with a loud thud in front of her.

"What was what for?" She could not have noticed his annoyed face. He had surely been ever so subtle.

"That eye roll. I saw it," Hesbia shot back. She advanced towards him, bristling. "You have something to say?"

M'sar tensed. If it was anyone else he would find this entertaining but H'lem was . . . Well, he was harmless.

H'lem rolled his eyes again, and this time, not bothering to be subtle, he accompanied it with the most annoyed groan he could muster.

"Are you kidding me right now? Sack up and keep tossing; we don't have time for you to pick a fight because my face hurt your feelings."

"Maybe you should learn to control your face better then," Hesbia retorted. "You Weyrbred think you're better than us Holdless. I may not be able to toss a stupid firestone sack as far as you but you wouldn't know how to catch a wherry, much less dress one like I do."

H'lem's comment surprised a laugh out of M'sar. He sometimes forgot how sassy the kid could be. "Hey, H'lem's all right," he told Hesbia. "That one's the judgey asshole." He hooked a thumb at D'miran.

"Can we get on with this exercise?" D'miran snapped. "We're going to be facing Thread in less than six months. I know _some_ of us would rather be eaten alive than do a stroke of work, but I'd rather not!"

Hesbia immediately rounded on D'miran. "_Excuse_ you! What would _you_ know about hard work, Lord Pampered Weyrbred?"

"More than you." D'miran's lip curled. "Stealing isn't actually work, you know. And I'm a _holder_, not a..." He frowned, not sure she was listening.

"For fuck's sake," H'lem muttered as he stalked over to pick up the firestone sack. He hefted it up and walked around toward M'sar to make sure neither Hesbia nor D'miran were in the way and prepared to toss the sack to him.

"Ready?"

M'sar laughed. "Yeah."

"I told you, we weren't thieves!" Hesbia snapped. Which was true -- for her. Her uncle, however, he was a different story but she wasn't going to give that information up. She stamped her foot angrily. "This is stupid. This whole thing. I'm taking a break." She stormed off to get some water, or just get away from the others for a bit.

M'sar watched her go for a moment. "You sure rubbed her the wrong way."

"Then she should grow a thicker hide." D'miran pushed down the faint sense of guilt he always felt around Hesbia. Her terrible life wasn't his fault! "Now can we _please_ get on before the Weyrlingmaster has us all scrubbing latrines?"

"Or worse, catching and dressing wherries." H'lem tossed his sack to M'sar.

M'sar caught it easily and turned to D'miran. "Yeah, you need more practice tossin' sacks, bluerider." He snickered.

The blue weyrling glared at him. "Maybe if you'd actually toss them my way instead of flapping your lips all day long, I'd get better."

"Flaming shit on a bread rollâ€" can you be the change you want to see in the world, or what?" H'lem groaned.

"Gonna be a couple months before I can teach you to how to handle my sack," M'sar said before he threw the firestone at D'miran.

"What?" D'miran blinked, distracted, but understanding dawned...just as the sack slammed into him, knocking the breath out of him for the second time in a row. His cheeks burned fiery red and he could barely wheeze a response, but the look he gave M'sar could have frozen Thread. "Not - interested!"

M'sar blew him a kiss.

"Are you all right?" One of the weyrlingstaff assistants, a teenage boy too young for the Wings, came hurrying over, wincing. "That was a hard blow. You need to keep your eye on the sack and lean out of the way if it's heading straight for you."

"I'm _fine_." D'miran's mood wasn't improved by being lectured by the younger boy, as if he wasn't perfectly capable of catching from a decent throw. "He distracted me."

"There's plenty of distractions in Fall," A'ten said, without much sympathy. Bad enough he had to babysit these useless weyrlings until his eyes glazed over in boredom, he didn't have to listen to their complaints too. "You have to learn to ignore them or you won't make it through Blooding. And the rest of you have to work as a team. I've barely seen one good catch..." His eyes narrowed. "Shouldn't there be four of you? Where's the other one?"

"She's just grabbing a drink of water," said H'lem. "She'll be right back. Come on, D'miranâ€" let's have it. We'll show him we can go all the way around with no trouble when we're locked in, right?"

D'miran being scolded by a kid was the icing on the cake. "Yeah, I've messed around enough," M'sar said.

The blue weyrling turned his hot gaze from A'ten to M'sar as if he couldn't decide who he wanted to murder more, but managed to keep his mouth shut. He pointedly turned his back on the pair of them and swung the sack out to H'lem with a soft huff of breath at the ache in his bruised chest.

H'lem caught it without too much troubleâ€" and he held in any grunting or huffing he might have done if A'ten were not watching. All right. This was for all the marks. He tossed it on to M'sar.

M'sar had to take a half-step forward, but he made a solid catch. He smirked at D'miran, but this time when he threw the firestone it wasn't overly aggressive.

The sack fell easily into D'miran's arms, though the approving nod that A'ten gave M'sar took the shine off it. He gritted his teeth and threw it on towards H'lem.

A'ten watched a few more passes before his interest waned. "That's better, but make sure you work on your accuracy. You can't run for a catch when you're strapped to a dragon's back in formation. Oh, and tell your friend she can't wander off for a drink in the middle of Fall, either," he added irritably as he turned to go. "This isn't a ladies' dance class."

H'lem nearly burst out laughing, but he caught it just in time with a cough. That was also a convenient reason to cover his smile with his hand.

M'sar snickered and wished Hesbia had been here for that comment.

D'miran glanced at the other weyrlings in a rare moment of fellow-feeling. "One of you two can tell her that." He'd been bruised enough for one day.

"Well, you know she doesn't want to hear it from me, so I guess you'll have to fall in that fire, M'sar," said H'lem.

M'sar snorted. "I ain't afraid of her, you little babies." But he wasn't going to repeat the comment about a ladies' dance class.

Last updated on the April 1st 2026

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Tossing Sacks