Logs:Always Free to Ask
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| RL Date: 12 March, 2008 |
| Who: Leova, Shanlee |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Leova talks to Shanlee up on top of the world. |
| Where: Star Stones, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 16, Month 8, Turn 15 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: R'hin/Mentions, T'rgo/Mentions, Talien/Mentions |
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| Star Stones, High Reaches Weyr
Leova's boots find stone and she sighs out a long breath, looking around her, the wind catching at her irregularly cut hair and tugging at her short sleeves. "And so fast, Kaylith." She nods at T'rgo too though she doesn't step away from Shanlee's side, just turning to look outward, out at the view. Though it's hot, the clarity of the day lends a view that might be old hat to some riders, but to Leova, looking out at the snowcapped march of mountains, it's all new. Tugging at gloves and then buttons on her jacket, Shan chuckles, "You'll give her a big head," the green of course preens for what she perceives as a compliment. It might be a view seen a hundred times, but it's still one to draw a long lingering look over its landscape, wistfulness edging to soften her features, "Beautiful isn't it? Just goes on forever and ever it seems." Moving away from the blue watchpair and leaving Kaylith to strike up conversation, she turns her path over toward the drop-off that faces outside the Weyr. Slanting a curious look over Leova's way, "You have a fight with a tunnelsnake?" likely referencing her new hair-do in a light tease. Leova stays by Kaylith at first, but then hesitantly follows the lush green's rider. And she watches her step. Until, "What?" Leova looks down at herself: tunic's clean enough, no rips in the pants... and then someone takes the shield off the glows. "That." Now she looks out as well as down, but just a glance to the road before it's the mountains again. "Had to do something with my hair. Knots." Shanlee turns a slightly confused look onto Leova now at that query, and waves the hand that clutches gloves in the direction of the mountain peaks, "That. Out there. Just going on and on and...Oh." She gets it now as the candidate answers on the haircut. Green eyes widen, "So...you just cut it off?" near shock showing clearly, "You could've braided it or something." It's now likely obvious by her own thick, waistlength braid and words to Leova that hair and its care is sacrosanct to the Weyrsecond. Leova can't help but quirk a little smile as the Weyrsecond goes on and on in her own right. "Never seen anything like it," she says honestly, not adding anything more until the silence after Shanlee's final question starts lengthening: she and Kaylith had given her a ride up her, so something's owed. "That, though. With the knots there, couldn't much braid. So I got rid of them." Most of them. "Should do something with it, I suppose." So she keeps saying. And if she ever had a lush mane like Shanlee's, she doesn't let on. Finally she tears her attention away from the view and settles it fully onto Levoa, Shan's head canting to one side as she takes in the candidate's hair. A small smile appears, "I sat and brushed tangles out of Talien's hair once." Perhaps an odd confession for such a woman who appears very non-girly at times, or maybe that's all just a front. Going quiet for a spell, and then, "Are you nervous? About the day the eggs crack. I hear some of the candidates are performing good luck rituals or something," the prompt there in her eyes more than her words to whether or not Leova was a part of that or not. "Talien..." The one with the accident. The eyes. Leova shuts hers for a long moment before she opens them, narrower now against the view before them. Over her shoulder, three-quarters profiled for just a moment, "Of course I'm nervous." She inhales the clean air as she turns back to the mountains, breathing it out again even more slowly, that one deep breath before it turns shallower and normal again. "They say it won't be much longer. What about you? What was it like." Shanlee finishes what had appeared to her to be a half-sentence, "Is blind, not dead," on the young bluerider. Approval flickers for being nervous, a dip of head into a nod and she's shifting her weight onto one leg and folding arms about herself, "Hot, confusing, frightening, fast," she pulls all the adjectives she can out, "And a blur all at the same time." Leova's mouth twists: to her, still young, still unaware of the extent of that bond, it might as well be the same thing. When Shanlee shifts, so does she, easing herself down to sit an armlength from the edge and stretching out her legs so her boots dangle over at the ankles. "Hard to train for. At least we don't have to run a race, I suppose. Make a jump. Just stand there... when we're not busy keeping out of the way." Was that a joke? Leova sits, Shanlee remains standing. Although she does take a step up to be standing at the girl's seated side, "You not scared of being up so high?" glancing down at the boots dangling over the edge. Laughter lifts up, "You could try hopping about from foot to foot everyday as preparation? Those sands seem to burn right through whatever footwear you're wearing. Oh, and learn to duck when the eggs explode open. You don't want egg goo in your hair as well as tangles," truth. Maybe? Leova slides a little away when Shanlee nears, just her hips a little so she's more at an angle to the other woman. "It's so high, it's empty," she says. And then chuckles. "Extra layers of socks, then? And how come the robes the way they are, anyway? Since everybody says they aren't like firelizards, they know already." "Empty?" surprise colors the light tone for that way of describing, shrugging, "I guess," then recanting, "Kaylith says it's not empty. It's full of air and thermals," amusement playing about her mouth for the dragon's two marks worth. Now a chuckle appears as she lifts her face to the breeze that ruffles stray strands of hair, "I think it's more for the humans than the dragons? So that everyone looks the same and no one can claim to have cheated by wearing a bright color to attract a dragon, or something. R'hin used to say it was pure luck and had nothing to do with the dragon knowing who was worthy and who wasn't." At the other woman's tone, Leova's silent a moment, rethinking. But then she shrugs: same result. Except, suddenly, "Thermals?" And then, looking back at the dragon, "She pays attention?" But then she turns towards the mountains again, keeping it easy on her back. "R'hin... he's the one, used to be the Weyrleader, isn't he. Everyone the same, though. Can see that. If you weren't wanting the people with the marks, the ones who could sew, to get the most attention." She says it factually, without residual bitterness, except perhaps for a thin crease in her voice. Tapping at her head, Shan grins, "She's in here all the time. I form a thought before I speak, she hears the thought, she comments," shrugging at the simplicity of how this all worked. Nodding down to Leova, "Thermals. The winds that rise and fall in the air? Some twist, some are warm and offer higher lift. The dragons use them to fly," flicking a look over Kaylith's way and then back out to that view again too, solemn, "Yes, his Leiventh is Kaylith's sire," a small frown had formed and then smoothes back off again. Smiling now as the candidate understands the philosophy, "Exactly. I tend to disagree with R'hin's theory however. A dragon will choose what is right for him as a rider. A holder's son can easily be ignored in favor of the child of a cavern worker. Worth is seen, not wealth." Leova shakes her head, just a little, the breeze picking up the shorter strands of her hair and only the mountains seeing her half-disbelieving smile. The stories they tell here... and some of them are actually true. She does look up for the description of the winds, though. "They lift... because they're warm? Dragons can fly better on hot days? Wonder what makes worth exactly. For a dragon." Frowning a little now as Leova tries to understand the theory behind thermals and Shan tries to better explain them, "Umm, yes and no. I mean, the dragons get about just as easily in winter here as they do in summer, but in essence, yes. Thermals are just different layers or strengths of winds in the upper air." Warmth infuses the Weyrsecond's face, her hand lifting to tap fingers over her heart, "Worth is about who you are in here. Passed what you try to hide even from yourself. Its there and I believe a dragon can sense it and knows who will make the best match for them," sound whimsical? If so, she stands by her own theory on dragon choice. Leova's frown is all about concentration. "Different layers... or strengths... but what does heat have to do with... I see!" She thinks. In any case, the frown dissolves, just a lingering solemnity about her mouth and the way she sits, there on the edge. Worth is a different issue, demanding its own attention. "And they... look for different things." Shanlee issues a small sigh of relief as the candidate appears to understand some of what she'd been trying to say on thermals. Her reply goes to the last as hands drops to pockets and she studies first Leova and then a backward glance over her shoulder to Kaylith, "Every dragon is about as different as every rider in this Weyr. So I would imagine their criteria as individuals is different too? Look at it this way. What I look for as worth in another person, is likely different to what you look for, aye?" Leova has to chuckle at that, maybe even with relief. "Good thing, too." She reaches back without looking to prop herself up, leaning back with hands spread on the warm stone, toes still tipped up like parts of the mountain range from her vantage. Mount Boot. Or Mount Right Boot and Mount Left Boot. Or the Twin Boots. "Shanlee?" She looks up, too, the sun catching her amber eyes before she lowers her lids a little. "Lessa's Ride. Have you ever... gone between? Times?" The chuckle must be infectious, for Shan's joining in, hers carrying a slightly slyer edge to it, "Likely so." Moving off that topic she finally hunkers herself down into a crouch alongside Leova, a loose pebble picked up and turned idly over in her fingers. Fingers closing tightly about it are all indication that what the candidate asks rattles her for her tone is kept neutral, "Going between times is forbidden," firm. Green eyes catching onto the girl and pinning her with a long look, "Why do ask?" That crouch makes it easier to observe Shanlee as intently as Leova does, though Leova's still leaning back, still at a brief remove. And the look in her eyes could just as well say, you didn't say no. She doesn't back off from meeting Shanlee's gaze, her own steady and strong, and perhaps it shows for the first time that the other woman is only nine days older. "It's sung about. I wanted to know." A smile curves her mouth, sparks in her eyes, although still she doesn't look away. "Since I'm asking so many other questions." Green meets amber and holds to it without flinching, peer meeting peer, like maybe like. Slowly, very slowly a corner of Shan's mouth lifts into smirk but no response coming forth on whether or not she herself had done so. "It's sung about for a reason. Lessa's ride is legendary. Would I risk it? No. Not unless ordered to and with good reason," her own smile deepens, perhaps she feels a challenge is being met for her eyes hold to Leova's still with small bouts of approval flitting in and about and then she pulls it away and drops it down to gaze far, far below them, "Asking questions provides knowledge in their answers. And knowledge is power. You're always free to ask whatever you will of me." Leova's smile has deepened as Shanlee's does, holding the other woman's gaze in a way that's acknowledging, that's recognition, rather than some hard stare. When Shanlee looks away she keeps watching, lighter now, letting her gaze roam: over the greenrider's profile, the brighter, longer hair, the way she sits and then the mountains above them and the sky above all of that. "I'll remember," she says to the sky. And after that, what little they talk about are inconsequential things, lifted away by the Reaches' summer wind. |
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