Difference between revisions of "Logs:Every Day Is A Long Day"

Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr

Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.

At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone. To the southeast, between the weyrling area and the lake, there are a handful of structures built into the floor of the bowl, standing out amidst otherwise an empty space.

It's bathing time at the zoo - or in the bowl, whatever. A group of weyrlings are splashing around in the little hot spring just near the dragon infirmary entrance, making the most of the warm water despite the chill of the afternoon. Quinlys stands well back from them, arms crossed beneath her breasts and probably half of her attention given over to the safety of her charges; the rest has her lost in thought, it seems, forcing her to blink away stray thoughts to recover her concentration every few seconds or so.

The sands might be hot enough, and let's face it, dull enough, to make any excuse for a walk a good one. Aishani's out in the snow, and not looking like she's so pleased about the idea now that she's there, her red coat warmly wrapped around her. Normally, she'd bypass the weyrlings bathing, but as she approaches, the whole crowd is given a good scan. When she's certain Quinlys seems to be the only one in charge, her path angles that way; once in earshot, "Long day?"

"Isn't every day long?" counters Quinlys, recognising Aishani from her voice rather than from appearance, presumably, since she hasn't turned her head. One of the little greens flails in the water, sending a splash well into the air - but not, thankfully, far enough to catch the weyrlingmaster. Now, with a small amount of rue visible in her expression, the bluerider turns. "Although at least mine are busy. Being on the sands would probably drive me spare."

"That... is a good point. I'm sorry there might not be much of a break between these ones and the next." Aishani's at least sympathetic, wrinkling her nose a touch as she watches the weyrlings. Quirking a little smile the bluerider's way, "Well. Iesaryth isn't all that demanding. She's just as bored as I am, that's where the need for entertainment comes from... though Vhaeryth helps with that, this time."

Whatever answer it was that Quinlys had in mind for Aishani is, at least temporarily, supplanted by something more time-dependent: "K'nav, if you don't calm your dragon down, I will make you go bathe him in the lake instead." It seems, at least temporarily, to work; she turns her attention back towards the goldrider. "I'm glad for that - Vhaeryth, I mean. Anyway, it's not your fault there's no break between the clutches. I'll just have to hire more help."

Eyeing the offending pair for a moment or two, Aishani eventually agrees, "It's something. And I won't say I mind N'rov around either. Even so... you'd think there'd be some way to space it out." As for help, there's a smirk as she tells Quinlys, "It's not as if the help you have is exactly... amazing either. Though..." Thoughtful. "You know, Alida's been particularly... interested in helping the goldriders train. I wonder if she'd be interested in teaching self-defense, at least."

Quinlys' own smirk appears in reply to that remark about N'rov, though she doesn't let it linger - really, that's probably at least partially because mention of Alida has a more dubious expression finding a place upon her features. "I'zech's better with the weyrlings than you'd think, to be honest," she says. "I'm not saying he isn't a boor - he is, I know he is - but he's good with them. Alida, though. Really?" She sounds dubious, but allows, after a moment, "I'll see if she wants to do something with self-defence, I guess. We'll see. She and I rarely seem to see eye-to-eye."

For the smirk, Aishani shrugs. And for the dubious expression, well. The goldrider can only say, "I know." She'd explain, but there's the issue of I'zech first: "And then give him more to do, if he is? He's taken up lurking in places, it's creepy." Maybe that's overstating the case, but does Quinlys need to know that? "Alida, yes. Self-defence, maybe. I know you don't, and I know she might not even like the idea, but... it just seemed like a fit in some ways. She's very enthusiastic." If lacking in social areas.

"Once we've a second class to worry about, he'll have less time for that, I promise," answers Quinlys, though by her expression she's not especially bothered by any creepiness her assistant might be bringing. "Enthusiasm," she adds, after a sigh, "is always a plus. I'll ask. I'll try. It is something she's good at, and shells, it'd be one less thing for me to have to worry about." Then: "I have your knife, but should I worry about what uses it might be put to, if I give it back?"

Aishani might not be thrilled with Quinlys being unbothered by the stalkerish tendencies of her assistant weyrlingmaster, but she doesn't do more than fold her arms and purse her lips. Besides, maybe Quinlys is right. Or maybe Alida will kick his ass, who knows. "One less thing to worry about is a plus," she agrees. "If I speak to her first, I'll see if I can bring it up. Maybe that'll help." Though when she asks about the knife, the goldrider has to grin. "No, I only did it because it was a flight and he grabbed me. If I hadn't given it to you, her might be worse off, honestly." So she was still being good! See?

If Quinlys notices that reaction, she blithely ignores it, turning her gaze back out onto her charges - who largely seem to be behaving (for now). "I'd appreciate it," she says. "She might take it as more of a... genuine idea, coming from you." Of the flight - well, it's her turn to look slightly less than amused, huffing out a breath into the chilly air, though in the end, she nods. "I suppose so. Really, though, fists are perfectly acceptable, in a flight, and less likely to cause accidental damage." It's her Weyrlingmaster tone. Still, she at least accompanies it by reaching beneath her jacket to detach the knife in question and offer it back.

Wryly, "One never knows, but it's worth a try, yes?" Aishani gives Quinlys a sidelong glance and another shrug. People. Go figure. Watching their breath crystallize and dissipate in the air for a moment or two before taking the knife back, she undoes her coat to put it back at her hip. "He hit me for it, so I'd call it even. I'm not sure about him. We'll see." A pause, before begrudgingly, "It's just an issue of when to hand them over."

Quinlys, with a low chuckle, seems to agree. People. She watches as Aishani puts the knife back in its proper place, nodding as she does so. "He's not one I know terribly well," she admits. "Transfers. It always makes it more difficult - they've never been in my care, and their weyrling records aren't in my files. Anyway, I'm glad you handed that one over to me. Hopefully there'll be no need for violence, next time. Turns from now, hopefully, after I've had months and months and months, if not a whole turn without weyrlings to worry about."

"I don't either," Aishani admits of H'vier, as she finishes with the knife. Looking over to Quinlys, she has to add, "We don't seem to like each other much, though. I don't imagine that helps. I'm just... I'm not sure why it has to be all about punching, and then after..." Fine brows draw together as she tries to find the words, then just waves it off. "Hopefully. If it's Hraedhyth, as it should be, violence is usually kept to the skies, at least?"

"I don't know many people who do seem to like him," admits Quinlys, unbothered by this fact as she seems to be by so many in life. "Flights bring out the worst in people. Sometimes the best, but most often not." She stretches, rolling her shoulders back, and then stamps her feet: it's cold, and only likely to get colder. Take pity on her weyrlings, even if the springs are heated. "I suppose all eyes will be on Hraedhyth again to confirm our Weyrleader all over again. Faranth. If that sets her to flight sooner than it ought..."

"It's not as if he tries very hard, but I suppose I shouldn't say very much about that, should lightning strike me down." Aishani looks up at cloudy skies as her jacket is rebuttoned, tone dry. At least she can point that out herself. As for the Weyrleader issue, the goldrider rolls her eyes. "It's so old, isn't it, in a way? Now H'vier's going to tell everyone how he's going to be Weyrleader, K'del will pretend he's not interested, everyone else will try to curry favour, and so on. With some added paranoia about begin attacked."

Quinlys' agreement is fervent: "Old and boring. Honestly, I just don't care anymore. As long as we end up with a competent Weyrleader, the details just don't matter, and all the conjecture and-- it's boring. Though I think I'd prefer K'del to H'vier, based on what little I do know about him." Which doesn't seem to imply any particular fondness for the present Acting Weyrleader, even so. Sighing, she adds, "Anyway, that's probably months or even turns away, so I'd rather not think too much about it, for now. And anyway, I need to get this lot in before they freeze. Let me know if anything comes of Alida?"

"I just want to be left alone at this point." Aishani says that hopefully, though not too hopefully, given the givens. "But that never works out for long. Anyway, yes. Thank you for holding onto the knife for me. I'll behave myself next time. I suppose I wasn't used to... everyone." Given she'd been away before, 'sick', yes. Starting back toward the hatching cavern, "I will. Or she will, I suppose? Try to stay warm." She lifts a slender hand in lazy salute for the Weyrlingmaster as she starts away.

Sympathy, but also dubiousness and doubt, show themselves in Quinlys' expression for that first remark, followed by a low sigh. "No, I suppose you weren't. It'll be easier, next time. Have a good one, Aishani." And then the bluerider is stepping forward towards her charges, raising her voice in that more formal way to marshall them up and out and into towels so that they can be ready to hurry back to the warmth of the barracks.