Difference between revisions of "Logs:We're Going On A Weyr Hunt"

It's mid-afternoon, after the end of classes, when Isath picks out a handful of weyrlings and asks them, cheerfully, to, « Meet me in the bowl. » Right out in the middle, Isath is waiting with her rider leaning up against one forelimb, the weyrlingmaster holding a roll of hides in one hand and whistling cheerfully.

Vysravth and E'gin appear from the training caverns, the boy's long strides in step with the brown, his lead talons tearing through the bowl's dirt as he walks. Reaching Isath, both pause, the boy giving a brief salute. Having finished with formalities, the rider smacks his life mate affectionately as they await orders.

Yggdratth meets Isath in the bowl just as close to immediately as the blue can get. Unfortunately for his rider, it takes Sa'zl a good five more minutes to show up -- sopping wet, still, with spreading damp marks on clothing that /had/ been dry. "Hello?" he calls out breathlessly.

Trotting happily up to Isath, Yanijath's tail is a-swinging and the green is even not tripping over anything as she heads cheerfully in that direction. Well, almost: she narrowly misses crashing into or tripping Yggratth, which is not the same thing as tripping herself. Evali is right behind her, and after saluting Meara raises a hesitant eyebrow at E'gin. "Does he like that?"

Sforzath also arrives well before his Riorde; the girl comes separately, from the direction of the caverns, and is perhaps the last to arrive. "Sorry to keep you waiting," is what she says when she gets there, the excuse offered to Meara rather than her cohort.

Lina limps out from behind Isath, Aryeth nowhere in sight, and holds out another set of hides for Meara to take. "I've got the last set from the headwoman, Meara. Are we--" She breaks off to smile brightly at the approaching weyrlings, then continues, "-- ready?"

Meara straightens, as the weyrlings start to arrive, though aside from a brief nod to each - and a twisted smile for Riorde which is presumably intended to mark acceptance of her apology - the only person she addresses is Lina. "Great, thanks," she says, adding the hides to her bundle. "I think we are. Weyrlings! Are you ready to get places of your own? I can't speak for Lina, here, but I for one am ready to get the barracks back to myself." She turns her head to survey the dragons assembling, adding, "If it's all right with you, E'gin, Riorde, we'll all get lifts with you two. The others can circle above, but there just won't be room, otherwise."

"That's fine with us." E'gin agrees to the weyrlingmaster's request, Vysravth dipping his head in agreement. The male turns to grin and wink at Evali, "Yah." Is all he offers, apparently their relationship isn't the cuddly, sleep curled up with you at night type. "Who is riding with who?" The question is posed to Meara, as he steps back and allows others to mount the brown before he does.

Riorde blinks, not expecting the request, nor altogether certain she she wants to be sharing her dragon and giving anyone any lifts. She tilts her head up and back to look at Sforzath, and looking back down, her gaze skips over E'gin when he responds first. "Sure," Riorde agrees thereafter, and lets his question stand in for her as well.

"I do not think we can take any extra people," Evali says softly, as she eyes Yanijath up and down. There is no doubt about it; she's a very little dragon. "So yes, I think --" Cautiously, Evali steps toward Riorde. She knows her a little better, and she won't have to get too close to a man.

Sa'zl is the easiest, friendliest blue-rider in the weyr, right? Unlike ... some people ... who are maaaaaaybe slightly harder to get along with. Maybe. Well, /for/ some people. Sa'zl is busy beaming at Riorde. Hi! Gimme a ride? PS my dragon still thinks you stole his funky-shaped rock.

"I'll come with you, E'gin," Lina offers to the former-wingleader. "If you wouldn't mind giving me a lift? We've got a lot to see, and not enough time to see it."

Meara is rather too focused on coordination to notice any reticence on Riorde's part; once the weyrlings have divided themselves up, she inclines her steps towards E'gin, "That's both of us, then, E'gin. We'll direct you. Come on, everyone-- Lina's right, we need to get moving." Direction is what her hides are for, presumably, because later, after they've all mounted and lifted off, she's indicating a particular ledge after consulting her charts, and aiming the two dragons down into a landing at the very first weyr.

Doom And Gloom Weyr

This weyr's ledge is large and accommodating, spacious enough for a couple of large dragons. Despite this, it's not a particularly pleasant locale; even in the height of summer, the rock outcroppings around it keep it veiled in cool shadows, particularly around the looming entrance to the inside of the weyr. Low spots on the ledge usually boast standing water, cold puddles an inch or two deep. The largest one has a habit of forming up right across the doorway to the weyr's guts.

The murky depths of the cave make it hard to distinguish the well-shaped, roomy interior of the weyr. Spinners' webs festoon the entrance to the room behind the dusty dragon's couch; further back, there's hardly any light at all penetrating from outside. Still, the rider's area is large, though the darkness there is almost tangible. Even glows would probably have a hard time dissipating it; the deep corners are ideal for holding unsavory shadows however well-lit the rest of the weyr becomes.

And so Riorde winds up chaperoning both Evali and Sa'zl. Out of kindness to Evali, she interposes herself between the other girl and Sa'zl on the short ride to the first weyr, but that doesn't mean that she's about to get friendly with Sa'zl, to whom she says in a low undertone right after mounting up, "Touch me and you're dead."

Sa'zl wrinkles his brow at Riorde, confused. "But how am I supposed to hold on if I can't touch you?" he asks, bewildered, innocent, and chaste -- and then, of course, there's a weyr to look at! "Ooooh," he says appropriately. "How spooky! I've never been up here before."

"Alright then," Allowing the two ladies to climb aboard before he scrambles up after them. Soon they are on their way, and at their first place, E'gin takes a moment to peer around the insides, especially in those spooky shadows. "Nice." is all he offers, no need to tell the agent you like it too much before you sign the papers.

Even /Evali/ knows what Riorde actually means, so it is a bit surprising that Sa'zl has apparently no actual idea and isn't, even, kidding. "It is very dark," she whispers.

"Hold on to the dragon," says Riorde with infinitesimal patience; the 'stupid' to be appended right after is practically audible. And maybe for Vysravth it is, since it's so audible in Riorde's thoughts, and thus in Sforzath's, who finds it highly amusing. Riorde immediately starts snooping around the weyr, which has the additional benefit of putting some space between herself and the others. The shadows don't put her off; she plunges right in.

Meara gives the weyrlings a bemused glance as she lingers back around Vysravth, mouth twitching. Sotto voce, to Lina, "Never thought I'd see anyone even remotely interested in /this/ one. Been trying to give it away for turns." But it's no skin on her back either way, and the weyrlingmaster consults her hides again. "This one's nearby. Guess we can head there next." /She/, notably, is staying well out of the creepy darkness. More loudly, "Anyone willing to risk jumping in on the first one we show you? Could be the best. Could be the worse. How /will/ you know?"

To Meara, softly and with a hint of laughter, "I really /am/ afraid to see where they came from, if this is looking appealing." Lina is perfectly happy to sit outside on the ledge with Meara and the dragons. No dank caves for her! "Poor little weyrlings."

Riorde comes back out to the ledge when she hears Meara's address to them all. For a moment, a flicker of a smile breaks the weyrling's otherwise stoic expression, suggesting that she's enjoying this outing more than she's letting on. "See a few more," she decides, affecting an unbothered tone.

Evali was not even bold enough to take the first look around; she only glanced inside a few moments before heading back out and declaring solidly, if still timidly, "I think perhaps it is a bit too big for us." That, clearly, is the issue here. Yanijath and Evali are both rather small, why waste the space?

"I think I'd end up with nightmares if I tried to sleep here," Sa'zl confides -- far too cheerfully for this to be believable -- to Meara, and heads back over to wait meekly by Sforzath.

Meara gives Lina a quick, clearly amused nod, then turns her attention back to the weyrlings. "We'll move on, then," she calls, encouraging them all back to the dragons, back to the air, and, a few moments later, on to the next locale.

"Go on, you know how to mount a dragon." Mildly rude, Riorde makes an impatient gesture for Sa'zl to climb up Sforzath and waits til he does before she too climbs aboard - then they're off to number two.

Ready For Roommates Weyr

The ledge is nothing special, just an outcropping of smooth rock with a depression against the wall that is the only draconic comfort available. It's big enough for a couple of small dragons, at the least, though; so hopefully that makes up for the fact that the entry to the weyr is only human-sized.

Inside, though, the humans are in for a surprise. A long rift in the stone makes for a narrow living room with rough walls, its floor completely bare of furniture. But the far side--that's the real treasure here. Four separate rooms have been carved out of the stone, two small ones a step up from the living room, one slightly larger one above them, and a tiny little alcove above that. They're all lacking a front wall, leaving them open to the room below.

A set of stone stairs leads up to the upper room, while sturdy handholds have been carved up from it to the alcove. All in all, it's a great find for a rider with a family or maybe even just a group of good friends.

Landing on the ledge of the second weyr, E'gin pauses to take a look, his passes into the weyr and is quickly back out. "Too big to be all alone." Especially for an islander who is used to being with others, in small quarters.

If that last one was too big for Evali and Yanijath, then /this/ one -- the former midwife's eyes widen as she takes a step inside, and while she essentially forces herself to walk the entire width of the weyr, touching the wall gently, when she exits it's with a continued solid, "Very big. I do not have twenty children."

The look Lina gives Meara is apprising; she's clearly familiar with this weyr. "You think this is a good idea?" Her voice is still low, pitched for the weyrlingmaster. "Encouraging them?"

Sa'zl doesn't actually even go inside to see how big it is. "Yggdratth doesn't like it," is his announcement.

"All alone?" Riorde echoes E'gin -- apparently she has a thing for mocking the boys today. "You don't want a family?" Which does not mean that she, in contrast, does, since she doesn't speak up to claim the weyr either.

An easy shrug marks Meara's response to the other weyrlingmaster: "If they /want/ to all sleep in one weyr together, why should I care?" But none of them seem interested, which, actually, seems to surprise her a bit, too. "No? Well. Something else, then." Beat, and then, to Lina, ever so quietly again, "They're getting pickier."

Gardener's Delight Weyr

Previous occupants of this ledge must have been of the smaller variety, because although the smoothed stone is expansive, much of it has been repurposed - leaving only a narrow, if sunny, patch for dragons to land on. On either side, extending towards narrowed edges, extra stonework has been put in place to create long, herbaceous garden beds, curling and twisting into artistic patterns that must, from above, look truly spectacular. For now, however, most of the plants are untended: weeds grow through cracks in the edgings, dead plants and leaves littering the outcrops and scattering across the rest of the ledge.

The wide entranceway leads inwards towards the generously sized dragon couch, with a narrower stone path that winds towards a more human-sized cavern.

Bubble-shaped, with walls that are not quite straight or flat, this inner weyr is made up of only a single cavern, albeit a decently-sized one. Once upon a time, there must have been a curtain strung up in here, separating the from area from the back, for the hooks are still visible in the ceiling above. For now, however, there's only a long-abandoned bed in the far corner, and two rather dilapidated wooden chairs scattered towards the front.

"They really are," Lina agrees, with a puzzled look at the weyrlings. "I was sure a whole pack of them would want to live in there, snug as vtols."

Now, /this/ one? Despite the size of the couch being about four times Yanijath, the cavern being still rather huge if you ask Evali -- there's a garden, and to an aspiring herbalist that is quite important. "Oh," she breathes, as she takes in this ledge, and once dismounted with a pat to Sforzath's neck takes a very close look to the gardens. She makes little sounds, whispers to the plants, and hasn't even /seen/ the inside before she blurts, "I think I should very much like to live here."

Riorde must have heard Lina, and although she missed the weyrlingmaster's comment which would have put it in context, the context isn't so hard to grasp, and she sends a thoughtful look to the pair of them. Evali's clear interest gains a smile that can only be called indulgent even before the other islander professes it.

E'gin grins at Evali, "It's a nice one, Evali, specially once you get the garden all fixed up."

Meara's in the middle of saying something more to Lina, but Evali's interest catches her attention: she smiles. "One done, at least. I'll mark it down as yours, then, Evali. You can move in as soon as you're ready. More furniture in stores, too." This done, she tips her head back towards the dragons: they may as well move on, then. More weyrlings to place!

Puddle Keeper Weyr

This ledge is enormous, reaching well out into the bowl so that it catches sunlight for much of the day, with easily enough room for several dragons. Unfortunately, it's been worn away in the middle, leaving a depression almost large enough to be a dragon's couch that, left open to the elements as it is, regularly fills with water. Or snow. Or ice. In fact, even with all that sun, it takes a long, dry period for it to dry out entirely, meaning it regularly contains stagnant, sometimes even slightly smelly, water.

Perhaps that depression was intended as a couch, because there's no room for a dragon within, the passage narrowing immediately to human-sized only. It's angled for protection from the elements, though, meaning that however wet or cold the dragon outside may get, it's always sheltered and relatively warm within. The interior is impressive: high ceilings, shelves carved straight into the stone, ornate glow-holders ready to be filled to light the room. There's even some leftover furniture, all of it in excellent condition: a large desk, a comfortable, well-padded armchair, a bed two or three times the size of a weyrling's cot.

"This one is /mean,/" Sa'zl says, in a tone that brooks no argument. Which is to say: No, thanks, I don't want this weyr.

Evali is still glowing at Meara and Lina's quick agreement to her choice of weyr as they arrive at the next one, but while she doesn't catch up to the idea someone's dragon would be forced outside (maybe Yanijath could squeeze through that space anyway!) she doesn't seem too pleased with the ledge either. "It is dank."

Venturing inside and leaving the dragons outside, Riorde comes back with much to say in favour of the interior: "It's lovely, it's already got some nice things leftover--" But Sforzath, despite what he was able to see through his rider's eyes, is quite obviously disgruntled and the negativity wafts off him: no, no, no. "But you /like/ nice things," Riorde points out, arguing in front of the others, to which Sforzath nearly knocks her over with a gust of breath: yes, and likes to /experience/ them. For himself.

E'gin frowns, "Is it even healthy to live this way?" Riorde gets an eyeroll. Figures.

Riorde makes an unmistakably rude gesture at E'gin and keeps the rest of her conversation internalized. At a certain point, however, one of Sforzath's comments gives her pause and earns her hasty back-pedaling. "No, of course I want to be with you." There, they've made up: and the weyr is definitely out. Still, Ri sends a speculative look back towards the narrow entrance as she mounts up to be off to the next weyr, as if the matter of the nicely furnished interior isn't completely a case closed.

Meara is /particularly/ watchful over this one, somehow, and her gaze follows Riorde with eager interest as the weyrling argues with her lifemate. Something shifts in her expression; something unreadable. Finally; "Are we moving on, then? Don't worry if you haven't found something - there are plenty. Benefits of the Interval, I guess." And then they're off once more.

The Women-Watching Weyr

Viewed from the air, there is not a terribly lot to recommend this ledge: it's just barely large enough for a bronze to land upon, and not really suited to lounging. It's long but skinny, built more like a runway than anything else. A dragon could perhaps lay their top half out along the tongue of rock, but their backside would still be curled within the weyr proper. But the view from the ledge itself is ideal for those of the proper inclination: it is facing head-on towards the ground ledges of the queens, such that any dragon relaxing on his ledge couldn't help but be aware of their every coming and going. It's located just high off the ground enough that someone observing from the bowl floor probably couldn't tell where the occupant of the ledge is looking.

Luckily for the dragon, the inside weyr boasts a couch with a hollow that has conformed to the shape of many bronze bodies over the turns. It progresses in a series of smaller bubbles back into the rock: the first is an evenly round affair, wide open to the outside and with shelves carved along the wall opposite the dragon's wallow to hold sundry draconic items. The second room is a bit cozier, though it manages to squeeze in all the necessities. The entryway is too small for anyone but a human, and closed off with a thick cloth hanging. Inside, there is a small hearth that is swept clean, and room for at least a couch and table, perhaps even a desk: there is an indented nook opposite the hearth that looks as though it might have held one in the past. Separated by another hanging, the next bubble cavern is large enough for a double bed with just enough room to squeeze by into the last, tiny cavern that holds the true prize of this weyr: a coveted bath, large enough for two if they're cozy.

The angle of this ledge -- Sforzath is already twisting this way and that, though it's tight with both him and Vysravth there. Riorde enters, and it doesn't take long before she's coming out and straight up to Meara: "We want this one." We, this time. Definite.

Dismounts and is walking towards the entrance to the weyr when Riorde comes back out. He grins at her and nods, is that happiness for the islander? He takes a step in anyway, and scans the insides before stepping back out. "Nice choice, Ri." He's mounted back up quickly, his is out there.

Meara's brows raise, and she even laughs: "I guess that's settled, then," she tells Riorde, cheerfully. Lina gets cast another glance, lower lip twitching with amusement, but she doesn't linger to remark on anything: they're off again.

Rodent's Graveyard Weyr

The ledge of this weyr is easily accessible, with just enough tilt to it to keep rain and snow from accumulating on it. It has a small alcove at the back, even a pair of pillars cut into the space to either side of the arch that leads to the weyr's interior. It's also blocked from the elements by the walls of the bowl. Unfortunately, 'the elements' lumps in not just rain and snow and wind but also sun: the claw-scored ledge is permanently encased in shadow. Worse yet, the continuous shade has made this weyr the home of a rather large colony of rodents. Their bones and hoarded debris make a graveyard of the firepit and benches on the ledge, and they've nested in every cranny of the rock.

Inside, the weyr is dim and dingy, but at least the rodent population seems somewhat reduced. The dragon's couch is low and long, occupying the majority of the space inside. Beside it is a small open space for living quarters, though it's as yet unfurnished. About six feet off the ground to the right of the dragon's wallow is a low nook, a natural feature of the weyr which has been modeled to serve as sleeping quarters. No bed is necessary, for the floor of the alcove has been hollowed out and well-padded with rushes, blankets, and bedding to make it a comfortable 'bed'. The ceiling in that area is only about four feet high, however. There's a glowbasket in the corner, and, below, several sconces for more lights attached to the walls.

Riorde looks well-satisfied with her uncontested choice, especially when she arrives at the next weyr. She curiously steps in (perhaps she's checking to make sure that there isn't a better one out there to swap with her choice), but hastily retreats in disgust. "We /definitely/ made the right choice," she mutters to Sforzath.

Sa'zl just stares. A lot. "How -- " But even this, he can't manage.

It may be said that Meara's expression is not sanguine; she stays well back from the weyr, barely suppressing a quiet shudder.

E'gin doesn't bother dismounting. That's his final answer.

Double Bubble Weyr

Though not especially large - big enough for only a single dragon, and not a big one at that - this ledge has the peculiar advantage of being close enough to the larger one next door that a brave person could simply jump the distance between them. Some enterprising soul has made it even easier than that: an old board - now a little fragile with age and exposure to the elements - has been laid between them, secured carefully with boulders at either end. The view out over the lake is spectacular, though sunshine is hard to come by: higher ledges shade this narrow one almost completely. Just through the archway, however, a generously sized dragon couch ensures that a non-sun-loving dragon will be quite at home.

Once upon a time, this was probably a small weyr - probably a single room, excusing the dragon couch at the entrance, which at least protects the interior from wind, rain and snow. The weyr is, however, no longer small: something has happened, probably in the time since the weyr was last used, and part of one wall has collapsed, opening access to the equally empty weyr next door.

Cleaned up, this weyr will eventually boast two connected bubbles, with the passage between them the right kind of size to be easily closed off with a door or tapestry, not to mention the two ledges. For now, broken rock clutters the ground on both sides, and both rooms are completely empty.

"I like this one but I don't have someone to share it with," is Sa'zl's eventual response, after going in one side, walking through the whole thing, and coming back out through the other ledge.

"I would," is Evali's response to what Sa'zl has said, because she would have been comfortable sharing with Emme -- no, /not/ like that -- but. "Except I am perfectly happy with where I am, and how did you do that, exactly?" He just walked in a circle! She has to try that herself before leaving.

E'gin comes back out after, Sa'zl and shrugs slightly, "But you might someday. Think of it as an investment." He grins at the other male and shakes his head.

"Nice having extra room, in the meantime," is Meara's remark, made lightly, though she's by-and-large staying out of the negotiations. "Well, think on it," she concludes-- she has more weyrs to show off, after all.

Spinner's Haunt Weyr

The wind howls constantly the length of this long ledge, keeping it clean of debris at the expense of the weyr's interior. Some optimistic soul has set rings for a hammock into the most sheltered corner of the ledge and even tied banners to the walls and shelves outside. The sun, however, has burned any color from the flags, and the wind has shredded them into lonely tatters of fabric: wraith-thin and pale fingers that flicker strangely after Rukbat gives way to the wan light of twin moons. Still, the wind chimes have survived, their almost constant swinging bells and gongs creating a racket fit to scare away any haunter.

Even inside, the wind plays with sound, the rooms murmuring and wailing with a sad cascade of noise. Thick canvas hangings separating the dragon's couch from the rider's quarters only muffle the sound; they haven't even kept out the debris from outside. Socks, scarves, sheets of music and pages of writing have been whisked into the back of the room, if one can even get that far; for spinners have cobwebbed the entry, web after web of gossamer thread clinging at the touch, as thick across the weyr's interior as its doorway. Glimpsed through the webbing, the weyr seems decent enough: the rooms are average-sized, neither cold nor stuffy despite the season. There's a curved hearth of grey stone and even well-made furniture already in place beneath the dust and spinners.

Sa'zl sneezes so many times he almost falls off the ledge, and retreats, shaking his head, back to Sforzath once more.

E'gin emerges from the weyr, having dared to sneak passed the webbing to the inside, but he doesn't look completely ready to claim victory. As long as they are still looking for Sa'zl he might as well keep going, right?

Evali is actually -- giggling. That, perhaps, is a little disturbing. Who ever sees Evali giggle? Sometimes she smiles, but giggling? Yanijath is a bad influence. Sorry, sneezing Sa'zl -- apparently at least to a small green dragon, you're hysterical.

Riorde stays out on the ledge for this one, like she did for the last one where she spent her time admiring the view. She does the same here, but while at the last empty weyr she looked, here she listens.

Blue Door And Murals Weyr

Largely unremarkable, this ledge, with its edges worn by claws, is big enough to fit two dragons comfortably. A low, broad entrance to the weyr forces larger dragons to duck to enter, but the space beyond opens to a spacious double-wallow lined with wherhide. The soft leather is worn in places, bearing signs of many a dragon's belly oiling it up over the turns, darkening its color. On the opposite wall, a line of hooks marches neatly toward the rider's area, a basket perfect for storing gloves dangling from one.

Past the wallow is a squared entryway with an actual door, painted an incongruously bright blue in the dimness of the weyr. Stepping past the door reveals that the walls of the interior weyr have been equally brightly decorated with a series of murals depicting the Reaches' territory: the Hold and its lighthouse, the Seacraft and Tillek's port, the apple orchards of Nabol, and numerous smaller holds under the Weyr's coverage, many of them presenting sea views. Sticking out like a sore thumb among the other locations is Crom and its coal mines. The rest of the weyr is sparsely decorated, boasting an empty bed frame made of sturdy skybroom polished to bring out the rich wood tones. Along the same wall, four long square nooks have been cut into the stone to form shelves; the back of each is painted the same blue as the door.

"Oh!" Sa'zl -- well, he looks positively /dazzled/, at least so long as he ignores Crom. He has a tapestry he can hang over that, right? "That door, it's /just/ the same blue as Yggdratth!" Which is to say: Yes, /please/.

E'gin grins, "It is Sa'zl, almost exactly the same blue. Congrats man."

This time, Riorde comes in to have a look at the murals, staring at them for a good long while. She hasn't seen much artwork, nor the vibrancy of the colors - that's what holds her there, after Sa'zl's made his claim, and then only reluctantly does she come out to join in with, "It's so colorful." A compliment, right?

Meara, happily, can more or less read minds-- or intentions, anyway. She makes another little mark on her hide, laughing, "That's good, then. Just you, E'gin, hm? I have-- hm." It's written in her expression: An Idea. "Let's have a look at /this/ one."

View To A Kill Weyr

A saber's curl of sleek rock, its edge jagged and walls sharply dropping, forms a narrow and nifty ledge. Tucked in tight against the walls in the shadow of larger ledges above, the shady surface is not an easy one for a dragon to land on. Once that feet is accomplished, however, a neat conglomeration of smaller sub-ledges set at varying heights create an area perfect for lounging dragons to catch a bit of sun and eavesdrop on the world below. There's even a smaller ledge built to human's scale to one side, though it bears an accumulation of dirt and leaves as well as assorted other flotsam under a couple of benches and in the small firepit.

Inside the elegant, dark-flecked weyr, the decor incorporates ironwork and heavy wood into a large hearth and an equally impressive bed. A short spiral staircase ends abruptly in a child-sized sleeping alcove that extends over the dragon couch. The main decoration is a large collections of sporks displayed on the mantle: some are just rough wooden spoon-forks with a place name carved along the handle, while others are really quite pretty, inlaid with bits of metal or intricate woodcarving. In summer, the weyr grows stuffy, though in winter it remains cozy and warm no matter how cold it gets outside. Still, like the ledge-cluster outside, each room is slightly smaller than average, their height staggered. It's a quirky, charming little weyr, overall.

"What a -- strange collection," is Evali's take on the glance around this most recent weyr. She has no other commentary, evidently.

Sa'zl just stares, and then -- eventually -- swoops down on the collection. "So /that's/ where it went!" he exclaims, and comes away with a very rough-made wooden spork, which he clutches happily to his chest.

There's quite a lot in this weyr that quite clearly appeals. Even though she's already chosen Riorde wanders through, running her fingers along the wood and the iron, something speculative in her expression. The collection - and Sa'zl's odd grab - are entirely ignored; she has eyes for the hearth, the bed, the spiral stairs.

It is several minutes before E'gin reemerges from the weyr, with a nod to Vysravth he grins, "We'll take it!...Though who did those sporks belong to?..."

"No idea," is Meara's genuine answer to E'gin; she seems amused. "They've been there for as long as I can remember. This place has had... three occupants in the past ten turns, probably? And they definitely pre-date that. Most of them, anyway." Sa'zl's excepted, perhaps. She considers the group, then finally nods: "Guess that's us done for now. Feel free to talk to Giorda's staff for anything you need. You're--" She pauses. "Well. Cleared for sex now, if you want it. Just show up to class on time, okay?" The real lecture will no doubt come later; for now, she's happy enough to leave it there.

Sa'zl gives Meara a wide-eyed, innocent look. "You mean people have sex instead of going to class, sometimes?!"

Beat. Pause. Then, from Meara, to Sa'zl: "No."

More giggling, from Evali at Sa'zl. Again. Even if she is entirely shocked by the idea that she would want to have /sex/. The idea that someday little Yanijath will be adult Yanijath who, herself, chooses to have sex -- so far away from her thought process it might as well not be there. Meara's response just makes her laugh more.

Except Iolene.

"It's lovely," Riorde says to E'gin when he claims the weyr. She says nothing whatsoever on the subject of sex. Her expression too is controlled, carefully blank.

"We're..." Blink. Blink. Does the weyrlingmaster know who she is speaking to? A bunch of islanders, worse than holders when it comes to that stuff? "I mean.." He coughs holding back his own nervous laughter. He turns to Ri, for once a place of escape, "Thanks, Ri. Your's is nice too."

... except Iolene.

And Kh'ry, in that case.