Logs:An Unfamiliar Arrival
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| RL Date: 11 March, 2013 |
| Who: E'ten, Hattie, Reesa, Isyath |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: An unfamiliar green and her rider arrive at Fort, requesting to stay. |
| Where: Southern Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 11, Month 3, Turn 31 (Interval 10) |
| It's been a pleasant spring afternoon, and warm enough after the cold winter that many folk are probably apt to enjoy the sunshine. High above, coming in at an angle from the sun, a dark, small green appears and begins circling sharply towards the bowl floor. There's a thrilling buzz that surfaces in the mood of the Weyr, culminating in a jolt that strikes like lightning. Afterwards, in the wake, there's a sense of delight and amusement, a presence that is unfamiliar to those at Fort. (Khiabeth to all Fort dragons) Is it the knowledge of soon-to-be eggs that makes Elaruth cautious, where she might otherwise be welcoming? Or is it the presence of that odd little bronze, also unfamiliar? A gentle flicker of pale sunlight dances through the sparkling mists that reach for the green's mind, a question voiced and shared with all only once she has determined that the newcomer is definitely not of Fort. « Your name, » she requests. « And that of your rider. » (Elaruth to all Fort dragons) The green seems more than happy to share- there's a sense of delight that shades the electricity of her tones, sparking wherever contact is made- more zap than true shock. « Khiabeth, and Reesa. » There's a stretch- and she doesn't bother to hide it- reaching for the bronze and greeting him with a flood of delighted warmth, as if welcoming an old friend. (Khiabeth to all Fort dragons) Headed towards the feeding pens, Elaruth pauses in her slow stroll across the bowl to look up at the sky and that sharply-circling green, a flicker of orange entering her otherwise calm-blue gaze. She takes not one more step, focus fixed upon the unfamiliar dragon with such intensity that it makes her rider likewise pause sooner than she might have, Hattie leaning in against her queen's shoulder in what is meant to be a reassuring gesture. "Green, not gold," the Weyrwoman murmurs to her, matter-of-fact as if one could not possibly be a threat compared to the other. Still, she follows Elaruth's line of sight to the newcomer, head tipped back to watch the skies. To all Fort dragons, Isyath shows a flicker of interest when the green first arrives and soars past where the junior circles in the warm skies above the Weyr. There's none of the protectiveness of her dam, though, and her curiosity doesn't linger overlong. The speed at which the small green drops to the bowl would probably be alarming for anyone, particularly any Weyrlingmasters watching. Yet the snap of dark wingsails that arrests her speed at the last minute seems well practiced, and the claws that dig into the ground as much as the backwing serve to arrest Khiabeth's speed. On her back, the blonde figure can be heard laughing, before she swings off and slides to the ground, stopping to adjust her dress and look around. Elaruth flinches as claws dig into the ground, visible shiver running down her spine to end with a sudden spasm of a twitch of her white-gold tail as she subconsciously pads her own paws far more carefully against the floor of the bowl. Where she is protective, cautious, Hattie is active, already seeking answers in response to all that her queen has felt in those few moments of contact with the dark green, striding forward to approach the unfamiliar rider without a jot of hesitation. "Reesa of Khiabeth," she states, almost an accusation in such simple words, "who knows our bronze guest." Dark eyes roam to Reesa's right shoulder, then her left, searching for knot or patch or... anything? Khiabeth seems to be largely unaware of Elaruth's struggle- continuing to radiate delight and shades of curiosity, now. She seems content to leave her rider's side, walking in that awkward-looking way dragons have of moving on the ground, her belly almost brushing the floor as she comes nearer the queen. « You are big, » the green states, clearly impressed. « How did you get that big? » With a glance to her dragon, Reesa - who looks familiar in a distant way - tugs a hand through blonde hair and turns brilliant smile on Hattie. "You don't remember me, do you? I don't blame you. Yet /another/ weyrbrat," there's a roll of her eyes, but her smile never wavers. There's definitely no knot, patches, or other identifying marks on her clothing. "If I remember a Reesa, she wasn't of a Khiabeth," Hattie volleys back, rolling of eyes doing little to convince her that she should in any way cease any potential offensive, line of her shoulders sharpening. "If there was a Reesa, she's no longer here." Uttered with a goading sense of intent, one brow arching. "Or is she?" Hands that itch to do something aren't permitted to let arms knot across her ribcage, instead finding her hips, back to her queen and lifemate ignored for good reason, for Elaruth is all the more welcoming with the slow, hesitant reach of her nose down to seek out Khiabeth's in greeting. « I grew, » isn't the least bit facetious, her answer a mere brush against the green's mind. « Have you finished growing? » There's a shrug of shoulders from the blonde, whether dismissive or simply taking the question as rhetorical. Reesa's glancing past, towards Khiabeth, and her smile grows all the more- that kind of fond warmth of a rider not quite fully used to having a dragon as yet. A hint of dissatisfaction from the green at Elaruth's response, though it doesn't linger overlong: Khiabeth doesn't seem apt to linger on much of /anything/ for long. « I grew a lot, too. Reesa says I was very small, but I don't remember it. I don't /feel/ small. » There's absolutely no fear from the little green- she stretches her nose to meet Elaruth's, then with a delighted shiver of body, slinks around the queen to inspect her. "She's something, isn't she?" Reesa says, apparently referring to Khiabeth, pride audible in her voice. More little sparks flicker out here and there, Khiabeth taking interest from other dragons in stride. (Khiabeth to all Fort dragons) The normally steady sound of footsteps within Adiulth's mental tone pauses with a missed beat as he reaches out to greet the new and unfamiliar dragon. « Khiabeth, was it? Where are you and yours from? » (Adiulth to Khiabeth) Elaruth hikes her shadow-brushed wings higher, folding them even more tightly against her silver-scarred sides than usual; even all four of her paws edge closer together as she draws herself up taller, as if she could make more room for Khiabeth to complete her inspection (despite /all the space/ of the bowl) and gain a better vantage point from which to watch her at the same time. « You are not small, only small/er/, » the queen supposes. « They tell me I am small. My daughters are larger than I am. » There's a flicker of a sense of the stars and of the forest, each gold-daughter respectively. Hattie doesn't let herself look back at Khiabeth, letting Elaruth be the one to observe the small green, refusing to be drawn. "Are you here to visit? Take them home?" In the space between the caverns and the pens stand Weyrwoman and a greenrider sporting no identifying marks, a dark little green slinking curiously around the senior gold. That touch is met with a faintly electric tingle. « We go all over the place, » Khiabeth tells the bronze, proudly, flickers of images of distant lands rising and fading in her thoughts. « Wherever we want. » (Khiabeth to Adiulth) Those scars of Elaruth's seem to get the little green's attention, Khiabeth making a quizzical noise, head cocked to one side as she looks. « You do not seem small, » the dark dragon responds, though she adds quickly enough: « I like being small. I'm faster than- » there's a snap of something electric and the thought's cut off. Or maybe she's just distracted, following Elaruth's thoughts towards the other golds, stretching out. Reesa's lips draw into the faintest pout, as if Hattie's unwillingness to admire her dragon is the most serious issue at play here. "I was- /we/ were," with a glance at Khiabeth, "Curious what all the fuss was about. And Khiabeth likes new things; new places." Making his way from the direction of the infirmary, E'ten is already shaking his head to some remark as he approaches Hattie and Elaruth with a nod already given. The green and her rider receive another glance before deeming them pretty much in his mind as not a current threat. "Hello Weyrwoman. And miss." For all that he doesn't use his dragon provided information. "It seems like, speaking of stirs... you and yours are an equal curiosity." In response to that noise from Khiabeth, Elaruth folds back on herself to try and get a decent look at her scars, which are easily and simply accepted as part of who she is, how she got them long forgotten. « Faster than...? » she echoes, taking the green's sudden silence for distraction, observing her progress with an increasing sense of ease that goes unmatched by her rider. "/New/ places?" Hattie repeats, eyes narrowing, her reasons for latching onto that remark left unspoken in favour of an unconsciously done glance towards the barracks. It brings E'ten neatly into her sights, attention sticking with him as if she could force him to stay through the silent act of staring. "E'ten," she greets lowly, a weight there to match her focus. There's a new figure, and Khiabeth peers in that direction- more out of curiosity than concern. That, and the scars, are quickly forgotten, as she picks up the thread of conversation, « I am faster than anyone. » A flick of wings, a twist of head, as excitement burbles upwards. « Want to see? » "Yes," Reesa answers a moment later, unconsciously echoing her green's tip of head. "Why wouldn't she be interested in new places? Well- hello," is tacked on as she smiles E'ten-wards. "Reesa," she offers with a smile. Stay by standing still? Or is it stay by way of not leaving the immediate area? With a slowing of steps, the bronzerider's amicable features remain in place as if not aware of the initial conversation between the two. Or, at least Hattie's solid stare at him. Above, Adiulth launches away from his ledge but the angle of decent sends him not towards the part of the bowl but elsewhere as he smiles politely to the younger girl. "E'ten. Well met, Reesa." Waiting a moment, he adds, "Hattie. Elaruth." Respectful of both, he adds into the conversation with a question for both. Gold and then greenrider. "We have a traveler, it seems? What places have you seen?" « Yes. » Encouragement as much as genuine eagerness to keep Khiabeth's spirits high, protective instinct somehow closing to envelope her too now, despite only minutes of acquaintance. No longer being inspected, Elaruth settles down, easing limbs and tail into a more comfortable arrangement, paws tipped up so as not to touch the bowl floor. Hattie /smiles/, a triumphant, knowing sort of sharpness playing about her lips, yet she remains content not to explain her reasons for such, dismissing Reesa's question as rhetorical and in favour of E'ten's. "A traveller who knows our /other/ traveller," the Werwoman declares. "Is this a flying visit? If you'll pardon the pun," she puts to the girl. "Or will you be seeking accommodation too? Your friend claims kinship." Encouragement, even the slightest, nudges the small dark green to action- Khiabeth edging only just far enough to stretch her wings, before she pushes aloft. She's certainly fast, doing sharp-angled turns to take her higher- a trilled greeting given to the other gold that circles above, her delight spiralling out amongst the dragons of the Weyr. "Well, we-" whatever answer Reesa might've planned to give is forestalled by Khiabeth's flight, the greenrider stopping to watch, silly smile plastered on her face. "-isn't she amazing?" "I see." And perhaps, E'ten does as he regards Reesa with a tilt of his head before allowing his eyes to briefly meet Hattie's before glancing upwards towards the smaller green aloft in the skies. "She's certainly small and that would make her a suitable match in the skies." It's a conservative estimate of abilities, from the bronzerider's point of view as he looks to Hattie. "They are friends then? I suppose that it would make sense if they were traveling together and just got separated, perhaps?" Perhaps Khiabeth's delight is infectious, for Elaruth soon follows her to the skies, albeit more sedately and with more room given those that she could accidentally bowl over, her drifting, current-to-current style far slower than the green's. Some might suggest that she's just keeping an eye on the foreign dragon, but the thinning of Hattie's lips and the clench of her jaw might as well be an all but literal facepalm, her queen's social nature clearly identifying with her as a weakness (at least, in this moment). "Elaruth claims she greeted our bronze guest with great familiarity," she tells E'ten, like Reesa isn't there. When her attention swings back to the greenrider, it sounds as if she's written her off as lacking in intelligence, or uselessly infatuated with her lifemate. "Do you. Mean to. Stay?" she asks slowly, keeping to words of one syllable. When the queen takes to the skies as well, Khiabeth's quick to adjust her flight, soaring /around/ the other dragon, albeit somewhat awkwardly where the unfamiliar Fort thermals push her too far away, or too close, but always /nearby/, like a fluttering moth drawn to the flame. This sight has Reesa positively beaming, and it's a moment or two before Hattie's direct question has her focusing on the two riders with her again. "Sorry- what?" A beat to digest words only half heard, before she recovers with a grin, "Khiabeth seems to like it here. She says Elaruth is very nice- even if she can't turn quite as fast in the air." Which might seem like a non sequitur, but it's followed up with, "I think we will, if you'll have us." The presence of the dragons taking to the skies causes E'ten's lips to twitch at least a couple of times as he regards Hattie's expression. It's understandable in his mind. At least, he doesn't seem to believe it's a betrayal of sorts. "If there's anything that you needed me or Adiulth to do, let us know. Since it seems that we have a formal," he begins with a glance down at the girl and back to the Weyrwoman. "Request to be of this Weyr." Hattie does her very best to ignore her queen, who keeps to her slow circling just to try and keep Khiabeth to hers, continuing her steady slip from thermal to thermal, as if Elaruth could teach the green how to navigate them if she just stays with her for long enough. "I'll tell you what we told your friend: you cause any trouble and you can find somewhere else to house and feed you," the Weyrwoman tells Reesa flatly. "Perhaps wherever you've appeared from." But she doesn't try for answers this time. "E'ten, if you could escort our... guest... to the Weyrlingmaster, please inform her that there will be another new resident in the barracks. For now." She turns, tilting a somewhat despairing look up at her lifemate, and shakes her head. "I need to speak with the Weyrleader and make sure that this one," aka 'Reesa', "doesn't belong to anyone else." And with that, she heads off towards the Weyrleaders' complex, quick strides soon carrying her off into the distance. As Hattie mentions the barracks, there's a furrowing of Reesa's brow, as if not entirely thrilled with it. But she hasn't been escorted /out/ of the Weyr, which is something, and so as the Weyrwoman departs, the greenrider turns her attention to E'ten. "I remember you," she says, abruptly. "You're-" she hesitates, glances at Khiabeth - who continues to gleefully circle Elaruth, following her lead as she slips from one thermal to the next - then back, "Shall we?" A curious jolt, brief. (Khiabeth to Adiulth) Watching Hattie cross the bowl, it's with a slow crossing of his arms that he tries to be imposing or at least an authority figure. In the end, E'ten sighs with a tug of his lips upwards in what could be a smile as he looks down to Reesa. A smile that halts abruptly as he betrays a hint of curiosity. "Oh?" Whatever she might have said to follow such a revelation, he won't know immediately. "Maybe you can tell me later," he finishes without missing a beat as he glances up and then back down as he gestures towards the barracks. "This way. Given your age, I'm not sure how far along you would be in the classes. Far to say the least." "Oh, we're past classes. Maybe it'll take a day or two to sort out which weyr are to be ours?" Reesa replies, breezily. Long strides of her legs are taken in an effort to keep up with the taller bronzerider. "There'll be plenty of time," she adds, "Since we're sticking around." She sounds certain, anyway- only a brief glance given towards the green before she lets E'ten escort her to the barracks. To Khiabeth, Adiulth finds that silence that skips a beat once more, the electric jolt being enough that he regards the green from where he's since settled along the bowl rim. A mystery for later, it seems. |
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