Logs:Positivity

From NorCon MUSH
Positivity
"But, I have heard that we have to be careful how we present ourselves."
RL Date: 3 June, 2014
Who: Azaylia, Lilah
Involves: High Reaches Weyr, Fort Weyr
Type: Log
What: As Hraedhyth and Azaylia roam, they run into a soon-to-be Fortian junior and her queen.
Where: Weavercraft Hall, Boll
When: Day 22, Month 12, Turn 34 (Interval 10)
Mentions: Hattie/Mentions, K'del/Mentions


Icon azaylia smile.jpg Icon azaylia hraefire.jpg


Weavercraft Hall, Boll Area

Nestled in a verdant tropical forest, the dazzling white slate of the Weavercraft Hall is protected by two solid wooden gates that are usually left open to admit the warm, balmy air. Draperies frame windows in a soft and lightweight violet brocade, fluttering lackadaisically in the gentle breezes. Pern's history is detailed on several brightly-shaded tapestries bedecking the walls, spaced between sconces of glow baskets that provide light when needed. Ornate tables gradually increase in complexity, from the more simple apprentice's tables to the intricate and thickly padded rich purple of the Masters' seating.

Within, the decorous hall is rife with activity, and sounds issue forth seemingly from every direction - the soft buzz of spinning wheels, the tick-tick of shuttles and looms in use, and the steady hum of stitching. Outside, a well-traveled stone path leads toward Southern Boll Hold, a mere few minutes' walk away. Other paths lead toward the breathtaking fields, or to the docks, the gardens, and the nearby beach.



The sands of Boll are not quite as warm as Ista, the bright afternoon carrying a legitimate autumn chill on the wind. Still, Hraedhyth has claimed a good chunk of the beach as her own. The tawny queen has her upper half resting in the perpetually wet sand, rhythmic waves lapping along her forelimbs and chest. Inside the Hall, Azaylia walks alongside a crafter with dramatic hands, a contrast to the quiet patience the goldrider offers in turn. Gently, "It's not too last minute, is it?" Only to have the weaver cast aside her concern, her boisterous tones adding to the constant buzz about the Hall.

High in the skies above the tropic Hold, a dark spot appears in the form of a dragon. With enough distance, it is easy enough to mistake this dragon at first for a bronze, given that she's the right size and nearly the right color for one, but the fire of her mind burns without a doubt as a queen. And that fire flickers surprise as it finds the other queen's presence, quick to bellow a greeting into the wind even as she extends a melodic, polite, « I do not mean to intrude. » The words are deferential and curious, even as Eliyaveith wings down to a spot far enough away to leave Hraedhyth her space, closer to the line of the forest and the Hall beyond than the beach. Her rider slides from her shoulders, her own attention and curiosity mirroring her dragon's as she watches the foreign gold for a moment before starting off on her errand to the crafthall.

Hraedhyth's drums have settled into a cadence of comfort, her own flames dancing for the simple joy of it-- she's been here for some time. The younger queen's appearance has that pale mask lifting to watch Eliyaveith land, dark sails spread out to soak up as much sunlight as possible. Her husky contralto is blunt but not unkind, « These are not my lands. » Azaylia and the weaver continue their path toward the entrance, the goldrider's attention slipping away long enough to offer Lilah a curious smile when catching sight of her.

« No, » agrees Eliyaveith simply enough, acknowledging. « But you are here. » There is a curiosity to that statement, to the way her flames attempt to flicker along Hraedhyth's, attempting to reflect hers. She does not spread out. Indeed, she seems to do the opposite where she tries to huddle in the blockade of the treeline, her wings battered down against her sides to block the cool autumn breeze. "Weyrwoman," Lilah identifies immediately, her fingers lifting in the customary salute from weyrling to rider. She glances briefly to the weaver, considering, but instead lingers nearby to wait.

There's smoke to Hraedhyth's fire, inky black plumes curling with a curiosity that is as intense as the rest of her. With a sudden lurch she abandons the surf, muscular frame carried with intent toward Eliyaveith. « You hide. » A snarl leaves her oversized jaws once she's near, savage sound a belated greeting. The younger gold is allowed her space, if only just, the 'Reachian reaching for a closer look. And a sniff or two. Azaylia gives a soft laugh, acknowledging the salute with a nod of her head. Turning back to the weaver, "I really appreciate you taking this on..." Gratitude and farewells exchanged, Azaylia steps toward Lilah, "High Reaches duties to Fort. You must be Lilah?"

Eliyaveith startles slightly at that snarl, the rustle of wings and the twist of muscles as she starts to step back. Despite it, she answers with careful, « Not from you. » Instead, she shivers as she shares a blunted impression of the wind, sharp and too cold for her taste. She holds still for further inspections, tilting her chin just so to give the right impression. "Yes, Eliyaveith's," Lilah acknowledges with a quick smile, there and gone in a moment. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Her gaze slides briefly again to the retreating weaver, before returning to Azaylia before it could be considered rude. "New clothes for the new Turn?"

Hraedhyth's head jerks back at Eliyaveith's start, flames flaring in surprise. They settle quickly enough, and she gives a snort of agreement, « No. » But, « You hide. » The younger queen's wordless explanation is met with the low growl of her drums, « It pains you. » Another not-question. The 'Reachian Weyrwoman gives a small shake of her head, "Please, call me Azaylia. And yes. I... actually forgot to put in my order." Not quite as embarrassed as she should be, there's a hint of it in her smile. "What about you?"

Eliyaveith is unwilling to lie even to save face, especially to the older queen. She answers with a quiet, soft, « It does, » as if the smaller she can make her response, the easier it will be to dismiss. Lilah nods, offering another of those small quirks of her lips that could be called a smile, if it didn't disappear so quickly. "Azaylia, and yes. I am picking up a set of Gather clothes, and considering putting in another order for more informal clothing, before Hattie bans me from ever going out in public." Which, really, wouldn't be such a bad idea considering that she only wears a faded grey uniform, that once belonged to a gambling establishment. "I think forgetting is excusable, now. If the rumors are true--." She trails off, though her dark gaze holds a question as it flicks over the Weyrwoman.

« Strange. » Hraedhyth declares, her own brand of honesty fairly brutal in its delivery. She moves closer, confidence carried in stride as well as her sudden proclamation, « I will help. » With only a hair's distance between her dark hide and Eliyaveith's, the older queen is so bold as to offer her body's heat. "A set." Azaylia sounds impressed, that embarrassed curl not yet leaving her lips. Her dark eyes brighten with interest, "Mm? Rumors?" only to fade when she realizes what is meant. "Oh. Oh! No." She laughs, "As easy as it would be to blame Hraedhyth... I just don't pay much attention to my wardrobe." Much to the complaint of many.

Eliyaveith's mind brightens, the flood of light and warmth exceeding even the sun on the hottest days as she relaxes slowly next to Hraedhyth, accepting that shared heat. « Thank you, » is sincere, debt written into the two words. "I would still excuse you," Lilah offers wryly, "But, I have heard that we have to be careful how we present ourselves." She pauses, thoughtfully, as dark eyes slip towards the door and the dragons beyond, if she were able to see them from here. It is carefully that she questions, "This will be her third time?"

Even in snuggling Hraedhyth is intense, not hesitating in resting her weight against the other gold. Eliyaveith's gratitude is consumed by pleased flames, the older queen's throat rumbling with a steady growl. For Lilah's sake, Azaylia turns back toward the Hall, offering to walk so as not to keep the weyrling. She's obvious in her caution, "We... do. Yes." But. "If people want to judge my Weyr because I don't have a new dress for every Gather..." The privileges of a Weyrwoman-- no higher up to embarrass. Her dark eyes follow Lilah's out toward the beach, "Mmhm." With an exhale that may seem sudden, "I'm glad she's not too much for Eliyaveith. At least right now. I heard she's... sensitive." Which may be a reason the two haven't visited Fort in some time.

"She's fine; she likes her," Lilah assures Azaylia easily, falling in smoothly beside Azaylia while starting towards the workroom that holds the set of clothing she came to get. "If you don't mind my asking... Who do you think will catch her?" Eliyaveith conforms herself to Hraedhyth, curling that bit around the other gold as she shelters from the wind using the larger dragon. And she does seem to like Hraedhyth quite a bit, even to the extent that sharing the fires of their minds seems to please her, given that she is the first dragon to so closely match her mindvoice. Though, where the other dragon has drums, she has casts metal into the form of a chain, a bond, that she offers to Hraedhyth.

"I'm glad." Though Azaylia sounds more relieved, "Hraedhyth is very..." There is a myriad of ways to describe the warrior queen, and yet she settles on, "...Hraedhyth. But she doesn't mean any harm." Usually. "I don't mind at all." If anything, the goldrider is all too comfortable in speaking about the upcoming flight, "I honestly don't know. She knows what she wants in a mate. And Hraedhyth wouldn't choose anyone whose rider would harm the Weyr-- but flights are unpredictable." Hraedhyth is intrigued by those chains, allowing her flames to bleed into Eliyaveith with an unguarded ease. They remind her of home, although the borrowed links clink discordantly with her drums, momentarily cast aside in favor of the younger queen's.

There is a soft sound of laughter that slips past Lilah's lips before she offers, "That is what I've heard. We have been learning all about mating flights, this month." A sideway flick of her gaze skims over Azaylia, curious, but then she is back to watching ahead of herself instead to guide where they are going. "I believe I promised to support Cadejoth catching, with the power of positive thinking. He seems favored to win, from what I have heard?" The chains are spun from gold, somehow holding their shape even in the heat of flames, and Eliyaveith anchors one end to herself.

The Weyrwoman gives a hum of understanding, able to sympathize with that aspect of weyrlinghood, "I used to be scared Hraedhyth would get hurt by lust-crazy brutes." The tilt to her lips isn't quite smug, but it proves her old fears to be a non-factor. Lilah's support earns a sharp glance from Azaylia, surprise masking any other emotion. Her gaze lingers as they walk, "I'm sure they appreciate that. K'del wants to win." Voice light and airy, "He's not the only one. Only time can tell." Hraedhyth snatches at the shiny, as much a scavenger as she is a fearsome huntress. She accepts Eliyaveith's offer, although her flames cast a momentary shadow on those chains; a link between all golds, far and wide.

Eliyaveith seems to agree, accepting of that shadow with a quiet, physical rumble in her chest. There is kinship here, even if they are not family as strictly as the queen defines it. Lilah gives little away in the wake of Azaylia's glance, only a dismissive roll of her shoulder in a shrug following the words. "Do you know when she will be rising? She's risen about once every two Turns?" she questions instead, changing the subject off of the future, unknown Weyrleader or the current, acting one. "I don't think Eliyaveith will ever be--delicate enough to get hurt. I'd be more worried for the lust-crazy brutes chasing her, once she's fully grown."

Kinship, Hraedhyth can understand. Though the dragons of her Weyr are thought of as her tribe, a pack, and ferociously guarded-- whether tied by blood or not. "Something like that. She's got a few days before she starts glowing, I think." Azaylia answers, only to fall into a silence that isn't entirely at ease. With a soft nod, "Hopefully nobody gets hurt, during."

"Only positive outcomes allowed," Lilah replies quietly, her words like a mandate. And there is something uneasy in how the idea sits with her, as well, which is why relief shows briefly as they come to the right corridor, and she tips a nod to a door. "This is me. It was a pleasure to meet you, Azaylia. I look forward to attending your hatching." With another quick salute, she slips away to the workroom. Eliyaveith is content waiting with her new protectress, for as long as Hraedhyth stays.



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