Thanks to Bryan McMahon for the idea in his review – I'm going to take it and use it shamelessly.

Another edit to this. Thanks to astrokath again, for pointing out stuff I should have noticed myself.

He was flirting shamelessly with a failed candidate when his dragon petitioned for his attention.

Hungry.

He frowned, mainly annoyed because he was getting somewhere with this one, You're always hungry he replied silently, cursing the timing.

I'm not always hungry – you're always hungry – you eat three times a day. I eat three times a week. And I'm bigger than you.

His companion, seeing the unfocused look in his eye, made her excuses and left. One of the first things you had to learn, when involving yourself with dragonriders, is that you were always second best. Their heart, affections and loyalty had a prior claim.

He sighed in resignation, but quickly focused his attention on his dragon.

If I was bigger than you, dear heart, you wouldn't be able to carry me, and then where would Pern be?

Never, came the quick rejoinder, I always have been able to, and always will be able to carry you. And dragonmen must fly, when Thread is in the sky.

He smiled at his dragon's emphatic words as he made his way to the feeding ground. Several dragons were there already, including a young green that he knew would rise soon.

Not today, offered his dragon, but in the next sevenday.

Got it all planned out, have you?

If dragons could smile, he swore his would be doing so now.

She is a well formed green. And greens are…fun.

Fun?

You do, the dragon replied slyly, why can't I?

In anywhere but the Weyr, his smothered laughter would be stared at. Here, a passing glance told the Weyrfolk what they needed to know.

Funny. Very funny. It always amazed him that dragons had a sense of humour. He supposed that it wasn't that strange, that his life's partner had a slyness to him that so perfectly complimented his own, but it never ceased to amaze him.

Some parts of being a dragonrider would never cease to amaze him.

He lazily watched as the dragon made his first kill, dispatching the herdbeast with a controlled strength.

By the time the rider had decided that really, enough was enough, there were four less herdbeasts in the Weyr's stock.

That's enough, greedy.

Greedy? Tollanath has had six and I don't hear his rider insulting him.

Probably because you're not listening hard enough.

Maybe. His rider is boring. He likes weather. The dragon huffed to show his opinion of this hobby.

Weather is important for flying, dearest, his rider replied, obligingly scratching the eye ridges.

Well you look at weather, the dragon conceded, but you don't think about it all the time!

Oh, go and curl up in the sun. This, the rider assumed, was from Tollanath.

I will do, the dragon replied.

Then as a parting shot to his rider, Told you so. Weather all the way.

This time his rider made no effort to smother his laughter.