Difference between revisions of "Logs:Thundersnowmelt"

Nighthearth, High Reaches Weyr
With its entrance located between the kitchen and the living cavern, this tiny bubble cavern is cozy, always kept warm and is filled with comfortable chairs and a small round table. At the far end, there's a hearth, outlined in ruddy, aging bricks, where a pot of stew simmers in the evening hours. Generally quiet, the nighthearth is the haunt of insomniacs and those seeking quiet from the bustle of daily Weyr life.

Thundersnow; everyone's favourite. Of course, K'del can simply cut through the caverns - more or less - to get back to his weyr, but there's still a ledge to traverse, and that's clearly worth putting off just a little longer. He stands, thus, warming his hands in front of the hearth, his cheeks still pink and chapped from a recent outdoors venture; it's afternoon, heading steadily towards evening.

H'kon is not so lucky. The snow was falling thickly, just when he and Arekoth got back, and they had their whole descent into the bowl to get it whirling about and caking onto them. Especially H'kon's knees and head. The lighter dusting on his shoulders must be from the short walk in. His knees, he'd thought to brush off. The bit that's fallen onto his neck was obviously missed, as he tugs the scarf that had been loosened too much to save him from his neck, and blinks droplets, former snowflakes, from his eyelids. "It was not so bad in Nabol," is greeting to his weyrleader.

"Mountains," agrees K'del, turning his head to glance at the incoming brownrider, then hastily shifting to the side to allow him more access to the hearth; clearly, H'kon is in greater need. "Amazing how much of a difference there can be. All's well at Nabol, though?"

"Arekoth has always loved the change in air at home," comes with a flat pull of his mouth to one side. "Well enough, it seems. I've little to compare it to. We missed most of the excitement there." The scarf is adjusted to hang more off his shoulders, fully unwound, priestly. "It's a strange feeling for us. Especially in Nabol."

K'del's, "Mmm," is quiet; thoughtful. "I'm sure. After last time. Least it's dealt with, even if the lady's not made a ruling on thoe prisoners; nice to have some quiet from those quarters." All quarters, even, maybe. "Cadejoth's still up on the rim, quite as if the weather were as fine as you can imagine. Dragons."

"Indeed," comes in agreement, though H'kon frowns heavily at the end. His weyrleader is given a thoughtful look, from under that furrowed brow, but it's left at that. "Arekoth would be like to join him," comes as he turns back toward the warmth, "but the humidity's getting to him today. And he's certain of a personal dragonhealer at home, so. Some things involve less pomp and presentation, sometimes."

K'del does not bite; that look, that furrowed brow, they can exist in peace. "Personal dragonhealer, huh? Lucky dragon." Quieter, and somehow rueful, he adds, "Cadejoth'll need extra oil, tonight; his scars always itch, this kind of weather. Won't keep him in the warm, of course, not when there're things to see. Especially when there's a show still to put on offer for Niahvth."

H'kon's lips press together in time to that deeply thoughtful 'hmm', at the mention of the transferred gold. "I've not met them, yet." He cannot speak for Arekoth. "I imagine you'd be better informed as to how they've been settling?" It's spoken cautiously, politely, with the slightest raise of his chin at the end, to complement the question.

"They're..." K'del pauses. "Both exactly what you'd expect, given Nimae's reputation, and also... not." It's an answer to a question that hasn't been asked; a moment later he adds, rubbing his hands together, "They were unpacked and settled in their weyr within a day. Irianke seems eager to find her place and make a difference. She's nothing like Aishani, at least."

"Few are, I should imagine," H'kon says of Aishani, though the tone is gentler than it might be - respect for the dead, perhaps. "I've felt little need to force myself upon her - Irianke," and he seems only now to notice droplets on his shoulders, and brush at them, as if that would guarantee his shoulders immediately dry, "when I'm certain so many others are doing just that. Y'rel among them. In time, perhaps."

K'del's agreement comes after a moment. "New places are, I'm sure, difficult enough. She'll be here a turn or more-- until her clutch graduates and she can take her share of it home." Having thrown that out there, quite as if it were common knowledge, he draws back from the hearth. "Ought to get going. Have a good evening, H'kon."

"Hmm," remains thoughtful. "Ample time, then." The bronzerider receives a nod as he takes his leave; H'kon stays near the hearth a little while longer before heading deeper into the caverns, after whatever his purpose was.