Star Stones, High Reaches Weyr
High on the southeastern edge of the Weyr, the Star Stones cast a now-lopsided shadow over the sheared stone plateau that holds them, a hole in the skyline left where the Eye Rock once stood. A watchrider stands guard here day and night, Pass or Interval, keeping an eye out for incoming visitors and inclement weather. Where the Eye Rock once stood, a scattering of debris remains, but nothing else; two dragonlengths south, the silent column of the Finger Rock stands alone, awaiting the balancing of the sun on its tip at the solstice to warn of the imminence of Thread. Between, and set out slightly to the side is the squat shape of the actual Star Stone, with an arrow pointing to where each of the other two stones should stand.
The view from the Star Stones is unparalleled, its closest match that from the southern rim. A full circle around the Weyr can be seen from the Snowy Wastes to the north, to Keogh in the east, the peaks of the Western Range and Tillek Bay to the south, Pars and River Bend to the west. The only way up or down from the Star Stones is a-dragonback.
The sands are vacant of at least one of their browns in the early hours of the morning. The watchrider pair has made way for them, and any exchanges between the dragons or the riders have long since dissipated. H'kon is wearing his Face, visible only really from the front; he's got the fur-lined collar of his riding jacket turned up against the occasional gusts of wind, shoulders hunched forward and arms crossed over his chest for added warmth. And broodiness. Arekoth is remarkably still as well, puffed up. Both are watching. Watching the Weyr wake.
Below, the Weyr is, indeed, slowly rousing from under its snowy blanket. There are hints of movement on this ledge and that, the flutter of drowsy dragons shaking the stiffness of sleep from their wings. On the bowl floor there are tiny figures just beginning to brave the feat of trudging fresh paths across the night's accumulation. Now, in the pale, fresh light, one little blue takes off from a ledge that might as well be on the ground, winging up into the sky with purpose. But that purpose appears to fade as they pass the star stones and the course changes into a wide aimless circle. Arekoth might feel the faint buzz of Oswinth's attention on him, though the blue says nothing at all, not even when that arcing path brings him to land not far from the proud brown. It's a landing that is probably benefitted by the cushion of snow, though it might be something of a wonder that Vienne doesn't pitch sideways off his shoulder. Instead, she slips down a moment later, not quite properly bundled for lingering on the frosty heights, and heads toward H'kon, even if he is wearing the Face.
Arekoth lifts his head as Oswinth begins to circle in closer, fresh eyes all too eager to lock on the blue with raptor's intensity - not that he's planning to seize him or anything of the like. Oswinth may land with no more movement than the turning of Arekoth's head to observe the whole process. (The watchrider's dragon offers his greetings, but that... that's different.) H'kon, meanwhile, barely shifts for the little blue's arrival, another breath pushed through his nose to cloud the air before his face, to frost the beard. His turn is quite belated; he'll only see Vienne when she's right close, and greet her simply with raised eyebrows.
This is probably the part where Vienne is supposed to say something, to chirp some cheery good morning, right? But she just kind of stands there, her lips hidden behind her teeth, the crease of a pillow still marring one cheek and her half her hair looking a touch more tangled than usual. She stands there and looks down at him and somewhere behind her, Oswinth appears to sink into himself, a quick polite look for Arekoth and another for the watchdragon before he kindly turns his attention out to the bowl. Because it is very pretty like this, all covered with new, clingy snow. And not at all awkward.
That silence gives H'kon ample time to look the woman over, eyes playing over her hair, face, down her frame, back up. Shoulders rise, and fall only incrementally with another slow exhalation, slow enough that it clouds less about his face. The brownrider turns back to the bowl. Arekoth is distracted by a green heading for the feeding pens, proddiness showing in her, though it's early enough that this is almost certainly a matter of breakfast, and not of mimicking the queens' rising routines. H'kon just keeps staring forward.
Well, whatever Vienne meant by stopping by and standing there mutely, she apparently has her answer in H'kon's determination to pay her no mind at all. She blinks, bewildered as his glance toward the bowl becomes a stubborn stare, and there's a moment where, with a quick inhale and her mouth opening, it really looks like she might have something to say to him. But her mouth closes again and she shakes her head. Since Oswinth now shifts his weight anxiously, she turns toward him again to put the brownrider and his Face behind her.
It's not continued quiet that shakes H'kon's stare - it was that which made it possible, in fact. It's the sound of steps in snow that draws him out, this time, the turn of his head sharp, this time, eyebrows drawn further down (even from the face) in puzzlement. He watches her retreat a moment, pushes a breath, this one a quick cloud, and only half-gone before he turns the end of it into, "Was there something you needed?" And Arekoth's still busy trying to see what that green's up to.
Vienne is most of the way back to Oswinth when H'kon speaks up and she looks back at him in time to catch that foggy breath fading into the crisp air. "No," she tells him quietly, giving a small shake of her head. "It was nothing." And for a moment, she's tempted to leave it at that. Her eyes glance over him and his stern brow before she adds, "Sorry." Arekoth might be perfectly content to enjoy his lofty perch and eyeball that green down below, but the blue feels some need to explain anyway. His words are tinged with static, a halting transmission as he retreatingly admits, « We were on our way to the hot springs. » It might have been an invitation, since he tacks on. « Not far from them. » Them being the eggs. But at that point, Vienne is giving him a little wave of her hand to shut up.
Said brow scrunches in the middle, and there's the slightest pull sideways on his mouth, something akin to uncertainty at least. "I was not disturbed," comes a bit belatedly after her apology, spoken with slightly more volume to reach her. The hot springs have Arekoth's attention at least, the brown testily stretching, first, his good front leg out in the snow, and second, the warped limb. That honed attention goes to his feet, where talons press into the snow. It's when he looks back to his rider that H'kon... well, it isn't a slump. But one shoulder drops in the direction of the view he's got, and the look back out over the bowl is nearly pained. It takes closing his eyes before he squares those shoulders up again, and turns more fully back to his original place.
Vienne doesn't have the benefit of seeing H'kon's mouth twist the way it does, but she does catch his comment as she stands by Oswinth's side, taking a moment to try to knock some of the snow from her boots before she climbs up again. She looks back at the brownrider with the arch of one unamused eyebrow, though she sounds rather regretful when she says, "You're always disturbed." Then it's Oswinth who will observe the pair, perhaps understanding from the tension in Arekoth's talons and the not-slump in H'kon's shoulder that some communication has taken place. He turns his head back to Vienne and reaches out to lay a hand on his cheek. Her lips are held in her teeth again, but she smiles at the blue, reassuring, before she scales the short distance to his neck.
Seeing the blue preparing to go - and to the hot springs - has Arekoth's wings shifting on his shoulders, overlapping this way, that way. He's all eyes on H'kon now. And H'kon stays straight-backed at least a bit longer, and shakes his head to Vienne's words, contradicting her with a soft, "No. There was stillness here." She might hear it. Maybe.
For all that Oswinth was apparently the one who was eager to get the springs, to end this awkward interaction and be on their way to the peaceful morning they'd planned, now he's the one who lingers even though Vienne is ready to go. Stuck as she is on her slow-to-leave lifemate, the bluerider can't help but see the difference between Arekoth's body language and that of his rider. But H'kon's words, what she can catch of them, only serve to turn her expression troubled, eyebrows low and mouth pinched, head bowed rather than look at the taciturn man again. So Oswinth becomes mostly concerned with winging her away from all of this, taking off with a little hitch that will no doubt be improved after some time soaking in hot water. The brown knows where to find them if his rider proves less intractable without an audience.
And it isn't long before H'kon relents, either to Arekoth's attempts, or to the reality that the Weyr is waking, dragons are beginning to come and go, and his moment is for these reasons, if not possibly others, come and gone. But there are things to do: kills to be made for one of the queens, busy work for H'kon in the caverns, any other number of things he might come up with before drills... Most likely, Vienne won't see them before she and Oswinth take their leave. Still, Arekoth will get his way to the hot springs before nightfall.
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