Logs:Of Promises Not Made
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| RL Date: 30 April, 2006 |
| Who: Amilin, Harley, R'hin, Rilsa, Sh'yar, Verenth |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 6, Turn 7 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 14:26 on day 31, month 6, Turn 57, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon. You walk towards the lake shore. Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr This shoreline marks the edge of the freshwater lake that fills the southeastern portion of the bowl. The gritty dirt of the bowl gives way to smooth sand. Dragons adore diving from high above into the lake's deep center, often imploring to their lifemates to bathe them with sweetsand. Humans and firelizards alike frequently fish from these clear waters, which are abundantly stocked. Across the lake, the bowl wall rises high into the sky, its face dotted with weyr entrances. A few dragonlengths above the water, glimpses of a level cliff can be seen amidst boulders lining the edge. Just south of here, a smaller pond of water is divided from the main lake by a natural bridge of land. A path leads across the bridge and up to the diving cliffs, winding through a dotting of small boulders on its way. The afternoon is partly cloudy, though the sun still shines through. There is a strong breeze that creates ripples upon the lake. Contents: Arikelth Obvious exits: LAke Pond Diving Cliff Bowl Leiventh moves over from the eastern side of the bowl. Leiventh has arrived. Harley goes over from the eastern side of the bowl. Harley has arrived. Leiventh is currently crouched near the very edge of the water, wings folded close to his body, staring intently. Occasionally - usually whenever the wind whips across the lake, creating ripples - the bronze tenses up, wings flaring outwards for balance as he prepares to attack. R'hin is sprawled on his chosen rock, shirt off, reclining in afternoon sunshine - what there is of it. He squints for a moment, shading his eyes, and peers in Leiventh's direction. "You're not going to catch them," he says, reproachfully, adjusting his bundled-up-shirt to make it a more comfortable pillow. Leiventh makes a low noise in return, and laughing, R'hin adds, "They'll hear you, if nothing else." Leiventh> To you, Leiventh projects, « I'm gonna eat ya little fishies! I'm gonna eat ya little fish! » A small flattish stone skips diagonally across the water just to one side of Leiventh, sending up little splashes with each skip. Further to that side, Harley is walking slowly along the edge of the lake, appearing to come from the direction of the fishing pond. She's watching the water, oblivious to the dragons nearby or any people. There is a solemn, thoughtful expression on her face as she sends the next stone skipping across the top of the lake. Leiventh> To you, Leiventh projects, « She's scaring away the fish! » After another unsuccessful pounce into the lake results in nothing, Leiventh retreats, head tipping in Harley's direction. A disgruntled warble escapes him, the bronze turning his head in R'hin's direction, accusingly. "I can't help other people, Leiventh. They'll come back, just be patient." The bronze crouches back down at the edge of the water, wings folded, swirling eyes fixed on the lake's surface once more. Shading his eyes again, R'hin finally takes note of who it is that's walking past. "Well, if it isn't one of the Reaches most valuable assets," he calls in Harley's direction, amused. Harley hears the dragon first and finally focuses on exactly where she is and what she's doing. "Oh" is very soft and heard only by the dragon nearby. "Sorry." is also spoken softly and sincerely. Hearing R'hin's added comment a rather loud snort emerges from her. "Not likely." she mutters as she turns towards him. She is still winter pale, evidence of how much time she's spending in the caverns. Or is it something else? "I'm an assistant, remember? Thiana or Sirana are the most valuable assets in Reaches." She drops the rest of the skipping stones in her hand, letting them clatter among the other stones strewn about. Leiventh, focused, makes a faint noise, and other than a brief twitch of tail, the hook-nosed bronze is statuesque, waiting for his prey to return again. Even though Harley's words were soft, Leiventh picked it up - and thus R'hin's aware of it. "I wouldn't apologise, he's been at that all afternoon, and not a single fish to his name. I doubt you ruined his crowning moment of glory," half of that seems to be directed to Leiventh, judging by the quick cut of pale eyes towards the dragon. "Anyway, you look like you need a good two sevendays vacation somewhere warm and balmy. Come sit in the sun," R'hin entreats, patting the spot on his rock beside him. Leiventh> To you, Leiventh's equally reproachful, « I -would- have gotten one this time, for sure. » Harley smiles. "He'll get better. Maybe he can ask some of the older dragons if they can show him how. If they can catch any fish." She pauses at the invitation, then gives in with a shrug and sits down on the proffered chunk of rock. "I have a feeling I'd melt anywhere that's warmer than this right now." she adds wryly. "What are you guys working on now in classes?" she can't resist adding since her lump of curiosity is as large as ever. R'hin scowls abruptly, voice turning a little darker, sharp protectiveness: "Some of those older dragons can't be trusted. They treat the weyrlings like they're full grown dragons. Some blue almost drowned Leiventh yesterday." With a deep breath, the weyrling's eyes flicker over Leiventh - perfectly still - and he relaxes back onto the rock, propping one arm underneath his head. "Mental orientation," he responds, "It's all a bit strange, really, but let's not talk about that. I don't want it to be -all- I can talk about, and you seemed like you felt left out yesterday. You ran off before I could say anything." He's deliberately got eyes closed again against the sunshine, not looking at Harley. Harley doesn't answer at first. Thinking it through judging from the expression on her face, not that anyone sees it. "I am left out actually." she finally says. There is no anger, not even envy in her voice. Though it sounds like there's a tinge of sorrow mingled in with the matter-of-fact tone. "Your part of a world I will never know. I am a part of it in where I am, the people I support, but I won't know what it is to be a dragonrider." She shrugs as her eyes look out over the lake, the clouds parting enough to let the sun glitter and flash off the little waves. "I was reminded of that last night and I had to come to terms with it." Again, she shrugs. "I'll live." the last is said with wry humor and a wry one-sided smile to go with it. R'hin resists the temptation to open his eyes; he gives Harley her moment of silence, nodding briefly at her words, unsurprised. "Trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. I know all the Harper's tales, but Harper's don't understand. Everyone says it's a -perfect- match." His voice is harsher than intended, quiet, yet despite that Leiventh's head turns in their direction. He, too, takes a moment of silence, his expression soothing out. Leiventh returns to his study, and his voice is softer, warmer, "They all want to change you," and it's not clear which 'they' he's referring to. "I think you're better off. You know I almost left candidacy," he offers, casual, and this time he shades his eyes, half sitting up on the rock and leaning on an elbow to look at Harley. "I've never much liked the idea of my fate not being in my own hands. You can do whatever you want to do, be whoever you want to be. That's no small thing." Leiventh> To you, Leiventh offers no words, but what he does offer is wash of soothing, calming thoughts; his affection for you unchecked. Harley's small one-sided smile is still there and she nods. "No. It's not a small thing and it's not easy. At least, it's not easy trying to find out what's right for you. "As for changing you, that's up to you, period. Can you see me suddenly acting like Shalyn?" While it's clear the greenrider is her friend, it's obvious Harley doesn't want to be like her. "Shell's, hearing some of these riders talk about finding the weyrmate for the rest of their lives I wonder if they're still living in holds. This is the weyr! If you want to find a life mate aside from your dragon, go back home to your holds and halls." She stops before she vents any more of the frustration those silly girlish daydreams give her. When she continues, her voice is very soft and she asks "What if you hadn't been there when Leiventh cracked his shell? What would have happened to him?" She lifts her head and looks at the bronze dragon. "I've heard rumor of course. Stories to scare candidates. But what you just said makes me wonder more what would have happened." "Well, you haven't ever slapped me or tried to give me tons of punishment for nothing, so you've got a long way to go to be like Shalyn." If anything, R'hin sounds amused. "I've got an appointment with the Weyrlingmasters later this afternoon, so if you see me doing more chores all of a sudden, you'll know why." With a shrug, he adds, "People are who they are. Weyrs are an ideal, but people can't shake what they are inside. If they wanted to find a single mate before they impressed, why shouldn't they want to afterwards?" He, too, believes strongly in this subject, sitting up. He grabs his shirt, running it across his face and chest, before tossing the bundle from one hand to the other, eyes straying towards Leiventh. "He would've found someone else," R'hin says, though it's clear from Leiventh's bugle that the bronze disagrees. "He would have," R'hin adds firmly. "Everyone says there's one dragon for everyone, but I don't believe that. I think the dragons pick who is most suitable of those available. Perhaps their minds are formed at the moment of the bond, as a reflection of whoever they bond with. I don't know; Shaylar's more into that sort of stuff than I am." Harley swings around to look at R'hin. "He'd have found someone else? I doubt it. Dragons already know who they are when they hatch so I doubt it's quite the way you describe it. I don't know what the truth is but I'm glad you were there to impress. I'm glad I didn't have to find out what would have happened if you hadn't." She leans down when she sees the perfect flat stone and picks it up, turning it in her hand this way and that. R'hin tips his head to one side, a grin on his face. "Really? They know who they are? How do you know? They don't speak to anyone before they impress. They're so focused on the one goal - finding a candidate - and that's it." With a low exhale, he adds, "Leiventh doesn't think he'd have found someone else, but contrary to popular belief, dragons and riders don't always agree on everything, or think the same way." His silence on her latter comment is telling; rather than provoke an argument (which is entirely unlike him), he settles back down on the rock, hands beneath his head, squinting eyes against the sun. Harley chuckles. "How do I know? From what I've heard. I listen when visitors to the weyr start asking all their questions. At least, when I have time to sit nearby and listen." she adds as that occurs to her. "And I think your dragon is right. At least this time." She keeps turning that flat stone over, eyeing it from every angle. "Dragonriders will tell them what they want to hear. Trust me, riders don't know any better." If anything, R'hin sounds oddly bitter. After a moment, voice even again, he says, reproachful but not serious, "You're meant to side with me, not with my dragon," a rueful smile follows, and he opens his eyes to glance in Harley's direction, smile turning crooked. Down by the water, abrupt stillness turns to violent movement, as Leiventh's pounces into the water, wings spread for balance, sending a spray of water everywhere. Laughing, R'hin shares Leiventh's comment: "He says he was close that time." Harley chuckles. "I have no doubt he was." she turns to look directly at R'hin. "In case you haven't noticed I am on your side. Both of your sides. And in case you haven't noticed otherwise, you are a dragonrider and you'll soon be answering those questions yourself." that wry smile is back on her face. "Especially since your one of those dreamy bronzeriders." She assumes the pose of a young teenaged holder girl, staring dreamily up at this mythical being, batting her big eyes. R'hin's lips twist a bit. "I'll be answering them, but I'll be disagreeing with the status quo. I don't think anybody likes it. I think they spend the first two Turns of Leiventh's life intending to make me conform. So, if I start agreeing with Leiventh in two Turns, remind me of this day." He's oddly serious all of a sudden. "Make me a promise that you will." Stilling abruptly, he glances away, aware Harley's actions are facetious, yet reacting strangely all the same. "Don't do that," he says, harshly. "I'm as much of a dreamy bronzerider as you are a Lady Holder." Harley drops the facade and her face assumes a serious expression. "Maybe not one of 'the' Lady Holders but I came darn close to being a lady holder. I'm here in the weyr because I refused to marry the lad whose father owns the property on our border. I was on my way to the main hold when the accident brought me here." she adds a shrug. "Maybe not the full title of 'Lady' but I'd be up there running the hold and having babies right now if I hadn't come here." An impish light fills her eyes. "Besides, your the one who said you were irresistible." She makes no mention of reminding him of this day, nor does she promise though it's obvious she heard every word. In the sky directly above, Gyreventh flies down to land gently at the lake shore. Gyreventh has arrived. Sh'yar jumps down Gyreventh's side to the ground, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching closely. Sh'yar has arrived. Exhaling slowly, R'hin says, "Maybe you should've married him. Running a hold and having babies - isn't that the dream of every young lady?" His tone might indicate his facetiousness, though his expression is even. With a wry smile, he concedes, "So I did, and I'm always right. At least Leiventh agrees with me on -that- much. My being irresistible, not my always being right." He's currently sunning himself, shirt off, on 'his' rock, Harley seated beside him. Leiventh's poised by the water, wings folded tight, staring intently at the surface of the lake. Shifting his arm under his head, he glances back towards Harley, aware she didn't agree to the promise, and trying to gloss over it. Sh'yar jumps down from astride his brown lifemate and inhales the fresh mountian air, "Yes, you big brown lump you have to be scrubbed. You can't spend all day in and out of the ocean and expect not to have the salt scrubbed out of your hide. Don't want to get patchy do we? Now go soak while I get a brush and some soapsand." The large brown makes his way to the lake shore sparing an inquisitive glance at the little bronze on his way into the water." Amilin strolls over from the eastern side of the bowl. Amilin has arrived. Rilsa strides over from the eastern side of the bowl. Rilsa has arrived. Rilsa strolls along the bowl and up the path, carrying a small sack of what looks to be purloined pastries from Master Myri's kitchens. "G'afternoon, Ami!" She also nods to the weyrling, rider and other present. Sh'yar is gatherin up a long handles brush and bucket of soapsand, "Hey there Ami. Hey there beautiful." he teases Rilsa with a wink. Rilsa arches a brow at Sh'yar's greeting before she responds with a slight smile. "What do you want now, Shay?" she asks. Amilin picks her way down to the beach and slows her pace at Rilsa's voice and pauses with grin to wait for the other to catch up, "G'afternoon, Ril." Once they've drawn even she gives the sack a curious look, but as she hears Sh'yar she looks that way before commenting on it and nods, "Heyla." R'hin is currently sunning himself, shirtless, on a rock by the lake. Harley's seated beside him, and the two are chatting lightly. Leiventh, for his part, is crouched by the lake's edge, staring intently at the water, through he warbles reproachfully at the large brown as Gyreventh breaks the surface of the lake. "Give it up, Leiventh. You're not going to catch them anyway." Harley opens her mouth. "He's," and she stops, looking around. "Oh, hi Sh'yar." her head turns the other way and she sees Amilin and Rilsa. "Oh, Hi to you two too." she adds in a slightly subdued voice, glancing once at R'hin. Sh'yar laughs, "This may surprise you but nothing. Had a great day off fishing at Balen point, and it's good to be home. The kitchens were pleased to have some fresh fish too. I suspect we'll see chowder on the tables tommorrow." As he takes note of all the arriving riders, R'hin heaves out a sigh, pushing himself upright and offering a salute. "Good afternoon, sir, ma'am's," he drawls out. Sh'yar grins and nods to the young woman, "Afternoon Harley, everything in the lower caverns in order?" he asks politely before glancing to the weyrling. "Ah, you're one of our new weyrlings eh?" he smiles returning the salute, "What's he trying to catch fish or waves?" Rilsa murmurs to Ami. "I stole ... er ... borrowed ..." A quick glance to the easily corruptible weyrling has her change the verb of choice. "... some pastries from the kitchens. Straight out of the ovens too." The weyrling's salute gets one of her own half-salutes in reply. "'lo, weyrling. How are you and yours doing? Afternoon, Harley." She adds, recognizing the assistant steward. Salute given casually in return, Ami chuckles and answers Rilsa first, "I don't suppose you brought enough to let us share in your skill and fortune?" She might only be half teasing though, since her attention returns to the others. The comment on chowder she simply passes over, and Harley is given a quick smile in greeting before she asks, "How're you and your lifemate this afternoon, R'hin?" "Of course I do. " Rilsa replies with a toss of her head. "What kind of silly question is that?" As the Sr. Assistant Weyrlingmaster addresses her charge, she falls silent to listen in as well. "Fish, but he's been trying all afternoon, so don't feel bad that yours got in the way." R'hin answers Sh'yar promptly. Running a hand through his hair, his gaze strays towards Leiventh, hunching down near the edge of the water again, before flickering to Rilsa. "We're doing well, ma'am. Just about to go back to my chores." It's bald-faced lie, if the comfort with which he was reclining is any indication, but he's expert enough to say it with a serious expression. Shaking out his bunched up shirt, he tugs it over his head. His answer serves to cover Amilin's question as well, before he says, "Has the greenrider Shalyn approached you yet, ma'am?" warily, a little. Rilsa's right brow lifts slightly at R'hin's reply, disbelieving his intentions for returning to work but she is not in charge of the lad so she is not going to say anything. Instead, the Weyrsecond settles down in a rather comfortable, reclining position and takes a carob-filled flaky pastry out of the sack before passing it around to anyone who wants to take one. Sh'yar laughs, "If I know you Ril you managed to somehow not only hide the fact you absconded with I'd say at least a tray full but managed to somehow make it appear as if there were an extra one on the cooling rack." He smiles at the mention of the fish, "Ah yes I remember when Gyre and our whole clutch learned about fish. Their still Gyre's favorite treat." His ears prick at the mention of his daughter's name but he keeps mum. "Say Ril I coulden't impose upon you for one of those tempting treats could I?" he asks. "In person? No. But she left me a note." Amilin slides her hands into her pockets casually enough, not seeming the least but ruffled by the matter, "I thought I'd see what you wanted to say about it all." When the sack is passed her way, she accepts it and retrieves one, flashing Rilsa a thankful smile before she offers it on. On the matter of fish she chuckles and glances back at Sh'yar, "Das outgrew the desire for them, for the most part. Not that she wont chase them now and again." Harley goes quiet, listening more than anything now. She bites back a smirk at R'hin's 'chores' comment. She takes one of the pastries with a warm smile. "Thanks Rilsa." she says before she sits back down and goes quiet again. Although R'hin catches Rilsa's expression and clearly reads the disbelief there, the weyrling's expression doesn't change. To Amilin, he grins a little; he can't help it. "Perhaps you ought to invite her to give her side of the story first. I believe it may have involved baby-killing, but I'm afraid I'm a little hazy on the exact details of my transgressions." He's pointedly not looking at Harley anymore, despite the fact she's right beside him; if anything, something in his demeanour bespeaks abrupt coolness towards her. Sh'yar laughs, "And here I thought Gyre might have had some influence on you when you were one of my weyrlings. My how times have changed, here you are now in S'din's place." "Of course they were extras and it was only 3/4 of a tray." Rilsa responds, nodding to Sh'yar's pastry request. "Help yourself. They're very good." Sh'yar smiles and dips onto the sack with a boyish grin, "My thanks! They smell heavenly!" he bites into one with all the joy of a weyrling. "Why is it that stolen pastries always taste the best?" Rilsa sighs in a martyred tone. "Borrowed. The proper term is borrowed, Shah." Sh'yar chuckles, "Of course how careless of me." Rilsa overhears R'hin's response and chuckles softly. In a murmur that may carry just a bit past Ami toward the persons nearby, she says. "I like that one. May I keep him?" There's a slight smirk before she takes a bite of the pastry. "In his place? No." Ami comments as she glances Sh'yar's way again, "Part of his team, as always though." That said she turns back to offer a shrug, "She could have waited to talk to me, if she wanted. I'd have to say by sending me a report, she's had her chance at the first say already." Her lips twist up in a wry smile, "And do you want me to believe it involved baby killing, or would you rather take a stab at guessing through the haze about why she thought I should know what happened?" Harley blinks and looks at her pastry. "I think this is stolen because if it's borrowed, I sure don't want to give it back." and she takes another bite. "Yum" Hearing the conversation turn towards whatever R'hin has been up to makes her go very quiet. Rilsa raises her eyes up to the clear sunny skies and just gives another sigh. "No one understands the nuances of freeing that which deserves freedom." She says, in a disappointed tone. "What is this world coming to, I mean really." "I would not venture a guess as to the haze of a greenrider's mind," R'hin retorts smoothly, though it's clear he's being facetious. "She took a comment I made as disrespectful, and told me I was to ask you for a lecture on the proper ways of addressing a rider. Ma'am." That title is added, pointedly, not without a roguish smile. "Apparently I'm to undertake double laps of the bowl in the near future. I'm thinking I should be -truly- disrespectful to her one day, just so she knows when that happens. If I'm going to get punished for it anyway, I might as well. I'll take some hides along with notes to help out, just in case I get confused." Leiventh, having given up on fishing for now, has curled up into a tight ball a little further up from the water, and has fallen into a deep sleep. Sh'yar smiles and raises half of his pastry in a toast, "To free food! Liberty for the muffins!" Rilsa speaks up before she even thinks about it. "Did you not ma'am her or something?" Amilin, grinning at Rilsa, teases in answer, "Now you're just plain scaring me. R'sel asked me nearly the same thing about keeping him when he dropped off reports for G'non last." Her tone dropping more musing then and adds, "I must say that too would make me ask what this world, or at least Weyr, is coming to. This are very good, by the way." Turning her attention back to the weyrling then she listens, "Other than her, who said anything about punishment? Shalyn may well comment on what she thinks should be done, but until I hear otherwise it's S'din, myself and the rest of his staff that have the only real say there. And so far, I'm just here to know what you believe the problem is. Now," She pauses significantly, "If you were to be truly disrespectful, of course I see laps and quite likely some time cleaning the dragon infirmary under Rilsa's direction in your future. But I believe we already did the lecture on proper behavior in class, so I don't see the need to repeat it, unless you'd like to tell me now you weren't listening then?" Then almost as an after thought, "What did you say?" "I ma'am'd her, ma'am," R'hin answers, "I said something like she should be making tiny shoes. You know, since she's pregnant and all, as if we could forget, then she got all upset. Should I try not speaking to her at -all-? I'd love to try that." He scratches his head, exaggerating a little at Amilin's query. "No one, ma'am. And I was there - Leiventh slept through it though. You think that means I should take it again?" He darts a look at the dragon in question, adds, "I promised I'd tell you what I said to her, just like she asked. Ma'am." It's clear he's laying the attention to respect on very thickly, and he's doing it deliberately. Harley is finishing the last of the pastry and can't help but roll her eyes and shake her head a little. She's not talking yet. She's doing lots of listening. "I would have to say, avoiding talking to her would probably be a fine place to start." Amilin replies, not seeming to notice how thick he lays on the respect, "Good idea. And to take it a step farther, I'm going to recommend the same of her; that she avoid speaking with you, at least for now. Since it seems you two have a history of trouble in the communication department." Then allowing a half smile, "I think we'd have noticed if you had been sleeping the first time. So no. You don't have to retake the class." "Anyone in their right mind needs to avoid pregnant dragonriders." Rilsa says to no one in particular. "They're never sane nor sensible." Her eyes scan the area, searching for that sack o'pastries. Sh'yar hands the sack back to Rilsa before snagging another one for himself. "That might explain it. Shallie's usual method is to kill them with kindness. A bundle of love wrapped up in some skin in an extra small package." Sh'yar says "Her mother was emotional during her pregnancy as well." Rilsa reaches into the sack for another pastry before handing it in the direction of Ami and the weyrling. "Most women are. It would be nice if we can avoid pregnant women and proddy riders ... all the titme." Eyes wide, R'hin disagrees, "I don't have a problem with communication, ma'am. I'll do my best not to say anything to her, though. It's hard though, she's nosy and asks all sorts of questions, I'd hate to be rude. Disrespectful, but not rude." He looks pleased that he doesn't have to retake the class, but then adds, "If you want me to run laps just to make her happy, I can do that. I don't mind the exercise." Sh'yar receives a flatly disbelieving look from R'hin, and a deliberate cough that could -only- be covering up stifled laughter. Rilsa leans back against a convenient rock, glancing over at the weyrling with another look of disbelief. "If he is as perfect as he claims to be, then I'm a goldrider." She comments to no one again. "Shells, I'm Lessa in fact." Sh'yar nodnods in agreement with Rilsa, "And I'm leader of the 6 weyrs." Rilsa rolls her eyes at Sh'yar. "You're not any better, Shah. Fathers never see flaws in their own children." A smile flickers to her lips. With a faint smile that disappears quickly, R'hin stands, a picture of respect, and salutes Rilsa formally. "Weyrwoman." His expression is nothing if not deadly serious. Rilsa inclines her head to R'hin. "That is beloved, divine and ever perfect Weyrwoman. Do learn to address me properly." She says, smiling sweetly. Sh'yar shrugs, "I admit to a father's bias." he chuckles, "Better do as she says lad, this one you don't want to get on the bad side of." "Making her happy isn't a high priority of mine just now. She's not my charge, but you are. I'm not here to see that *you* are happy either, mind you. But I will make sure there is an end to our getting reports about you having problems with her. One way or the other." Ami glances Rilsa's way and chuckles, then levels her gaze on R'hin one more to add. "There wont be a problem with her asking you questions or being nosy. Because I will make sure she leaves you alone. Her wingleader is in agreement with me on this, and this little problem is going to end. Or I may well send you both, with S'din and G'non's leave, to the Weyrwoman here for a few lessons." Rilsa licks her fingers clean of the carob filling before she murmurs aside to Ami. "Send them my way. Josi has enough work to deal with and the infirmary always could use a good toothbrush scrubbing from floor r to ceiling." "My sincerest apologies, my most beloved, divine, perfect Weyrwoman. It will never happen again." R'hin echoes, his intonation precisely mirroring Rilsa's. He holds the salute a moment more before his hand drops. His gaze darts towards Amilin, and he adds with a smile, "I'm always happy to learn from our respected elders." With an exhale, he drops the 'act', adding, "Thank you, ma'am." Rilsa laughs lightly at the corrected greeting, tossing R'hin a wink before she falls silent again to listen to Ami's response. Sh'yar chuckles, "A bit of a smartmouth, but a quick learner. He'll make you a good pet Ril." Rilsa, after a moment, glances at Ami then laughs. "Oh wait. You did mean me." Glancing over at Sh'yar now, she chuckles slightly. "Quick tongue and quick mind is a good combination in my hidebook. He's a bronzerider -- they all are pets." Whatever 'act' of picture-perfect weyrling R'hin was playing, it disappears abruptly at some of the banter between Rilsa and Sh'yar. His voice is cold, posture stiff. "I've chores to attend to." He doesn't wait to be dismissed, stepping away from the rock and turning to leave. "I meant you, yes." Amilin replies to Rilsa with a chuckle, then murmurs, "And Jos probably would not appreciate the challenge with the same relish you would." She winks at the Weyrsecond and then turns back to nod before he goes, "You're welcome, R'hin." Rilsa adds at the change in attitude from the weyrling. "But needs to develop a sense of humor ..." You stride north towards the main bowl area. |
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