Difference between revisions of "Logs:Caritha, Daddy's Girl"

Your location's current time: 23:31 on day 6, month 8, Turn 51, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer evening.

You wander towards the lake shore. Lake Shore, High Reaches Weyr

In the sky directly above, Semirath swoops down to a landing at the lake shore. Semirath has arrived.

Caritha hops down Semirath's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles softly. Caritha has arrived.

Reflected in the lake water is the bright glimmer of one of Pern's moons, leading the trailing edge of the three fixtures of the sky - the Dawn Sisters. Quiet now, the bustle of energy that surfaced earlier gone, the lake is still, with the exception of a few couples chatting softly, and one lone figure sitting along the sandy shores. A rock skips across the lake, *hop* *hop* *hop* before sinking, and the hand that threw it falls into Satiet's lap. Talking to herself, running through a mental checklist it seems, her alto voice is clear, if soft, "Chores, done. Linnea, done. Pants, on the way to being mended. What's a girl to do?" Boredom settles in the blue eyes as she flicks a glance this way and that towards various people, before falling backwards onto her hands.

Caritha is quiet as she dismounts from Semirath's back in an empty spot along the lake shore. The green dragon doesn't appear to be satisfied with her landing spot as a resting place and moves her way along the shore a bit, accompanied by her rider. Finally she settles herself just so and Caritha stops to pull down a blanket that was attached to the dragon's flying straps. Before laying it down, she hears a voice and then spots the white of a candidate knot and hestitates before finally closing the short distance, "Good evening. I don't believe we've met, Caritha, green Semirath's rider. Is everything okay?"

Caritha Caritha stands 5'9" tall and is graceful in both appearance and manner, carrying herself with pride born of her parentage and awareness that she is quite an attractive young lady of 16 turns. Her bright blue eyes and fair skin are in stark contrast to her black curly hair which is now cut to chin length; the long mane of curls that was her pride and joy gone since weyrlinghood. She has found a use for all of her hair ribbons, using them to keep her hair out of her face when she is working at her duties, or just to add a splash of colour to compliment her attire. She looks like a young version of Matheny, with her boyish and athletic figure, though her choice of clothing (the most feminine apparel she can find) and personal obsession with tidiness are in stark contrast with her mother.

While nary a wrinkle is to be seen on her clothing, Caritha's current ensemble is far more functional than fashionable . Her navy blue skirt is cut full, not restricting her movement, and has deep pockets. Her shirt is light blue and she wears the sleeves rolled up (in neat cuffs) when indoors to keep them from getting dirty. When outdoors, her riding jacket with its Blizzard wing badge is added to the ensemble. A knot indicating that she is a HRW greenrider sits on her shoulders.

Satiet props herself back up to a more straightened position, her motions languid and unhurried. The voice prompts her to look up, gaze straying to the knot first, and then the dragon not far behind before she replies breezily, "Unless the cooks decided how I meat in preparation for tomorrow's meal is unsatisfactory, I would say there's absolutely nothing wrong except..." her lips twitch, "You wouldn't, by chance, have anything to drink would you? Besides the watered down wine in the caverns." She pauses, inspecting Caritha through that lazy stare, and compliments dryly, "You have lovely hair. Ma'am." For now, her name is unmentioned, the knot on her shoulder doing enough talking as to her status compared to the greenrider's.

Caritha shakes her head, "No, sorry. Though there is plenty of other things to drink in the living caverns if you look about. My preferance personally is Nabolese cider if I'm drinking something other than klah." She doesn't sit down, seeing as the candidate hasn't even introducted herself, but she smiles and a faint blush appears on her cheeks at the compliment, "Thank you. Have you been here long now? I admit I'm not here at the Reaches all that often with my free time as of late so I've rather lost track of how many candidates have come."

A charming smile finds its way to her lips, the candidate in question slowly pushing herself to her feet. Idle hands brush the sand off the back of her pants. Satiet's head tilts, her own dark hair, albeit shorter, spilling over her shoulder a few inches. Blue eyes clear in the darkness, the greenrider is given another once over. "A little over a sevenday, perhaps almost two? I think I've lost count now. A girl in the barracks has been tallying the days on a scrap of hide since she got here. I find it a waste of time. Things'll happen in their own setting." One corner of her lips drops in a look of ill- hidden dismay in regards to the drink selections, "Ah well, I'll make do with what's offered in the caverns then I suppose. A little nip here and there isn't too bad for the soul you know." After a pause, where her lips purse out, she finally offers, "Satiet. Of Tillek, or near enough to Tillek to not matter much. You're a Reaches rider and you don't spend time at your home?"

Caritha chuckles as she spread out her blanket on the ground, the blush on her cheeks deepening a bit, "P'wert... my weyrmate, is from Igen. He's an assitant werylingmaster there and so his schedule is really busy at the moment, with the weyrling class. Though now that its summer, he's trying to spend his free time here as I just cannot tolerate the heat there." Watching the girl get to her feet, she offers her hand in greeting, "Well met. Where exactly from in the Tillek region? My parents families are from Tillek and so I was fostered there once for two turns, but last summer spent over a month there as posted watchrider. The seashore there is even more soothing than the lakeshore here when it conmes to a place to sit and think."

"Sea's Peak. It's a little ways down along the shore." Satiet offers, hand reaching out instinctively to pass over the greenrider's. The hand is quick then to come up and brush hair out of her face, the tousled locks pushed behind her ears. "Two days by runner? A couple more by caravan. Sometimes Tillek allows us a watchrider to bring in our tithes to the Lord Holder, especially when fresher fish will best serve the Hold." A grimace mars the candidate's delicate features, her cheeks tightening a bit at some unvoiced thought. It clears momentarily, the watchful look placed on Caritha at odds with the knowing smirk on her lips, "In any case, I wasn't aware you were allowed to weyr.. mate cross Weyrs like that. It must make it considerably difficult even if you can wink here and there in three heartbeats." Cajoling tones, intended to draw out more envelop each of the dark haired girl's words.

Caritha wrinkles her nose at the mention of the fresh fish, nodding in agreement with your grimace, blitheyly assuming that it must be for the same reason as she is wincing "Yes, I'm aware that they sometimes let riders do that - in fact I was suck on that duty just last sevenday though not from Sea's peak. Took hours of scrubbing to get the smell out of Semirath's hide. I really don't understand how Rose could ever touch those things, let alone have fun going fishing. Or how you holders survive." She considers your next question with a goofy grin, "No, there are no rules about weyrmating at all. As long as it doens't interfere with your duties, riders are free to live their personal lives as they see fit. I won't deny its difficult - I wish P'wert would consider transferring here but Igen is his home, at least since he was 15 or 16 turns I believe. And they aren't likely to grant him a transfer. And I could never leave here, nor would my father ever let me, not for love."

Satiet steps backwards, tipping her head back to look up at the sky. Casually, she comments, "Night hits Igen 'fore it hits the Reaches. I wonder, if you're so in love, why you're here speaking with me instead of with.. P'wert." The hesitation before the name is entirely intentional, the inflection placed on the word a brand of innocent curiosity. In regards to fish, the girl is remarkably silent, the twitch at the corners of her lips obliging to Caritha's comments. It's at the remark on holders that a flush of indignance rises along the girl's neck. "Holders survive well enough," a sharp slant hinting initially at her otherwise pleasantly spoken words. "We have enough to eat and live with. We have to, don't you think? Or else the Weyrs would get a pittance for tithes." - "Your father can forbid you a transfer?"

Caritha settles herself down on the blanket, she's not about to take any chances at getting her clothing sandy. Looking up at the girl, she pats the spot next to her, "I meant Tillek holders having to put up with the smell of all that fish all the time. and how slimy it feels. Just not my thing, though fresh roasted fish does make good eating, I can't deny it." She then sighs, "He's on late duty, can't leave Igen or even the area of the barracks for another 2 candlemarks. And I'm not about to get him into trouble by letting Semirath go distract him or anything. Besides, it was good to have some time to clean up in my weyr and stuff here." As for your last remark, she raises an eyebrow, "Of course he can. He's the only one that gets to authorize transfers here after all, and for all that I'm his little girl and usually manage to wrap him around my pinkie, he's not going to let anyone accuse him of playing favorites with me when he's denied others in the past. And I don't think I'd want to leave here anyway, this is home, after all. Always has been."

"Oh." Ruffled feathers retreat, and the flush rises a bit further along her cheeks. Satiet's view of the lake pauses, her head canting towards Caritha, subtle movements of fingers stretching against the black of her pants, and her forehead knitting in thought. Stupid, she is not, and one and one is put together quite quickly. "I see." The two words are innocuous enough, the soft gleeful purr wrapped around them not quite so angelic. But a smile is offered quick enough towards the other girl, one that hints only along the trace chapped marks of her lips, and along her cheeks, failing to light up her eyes. A few minute levels of respect filter through her intonation, the greenrider giving one last studious glance. "I'm afraid if I don't wish to get into blatant trouble, I should head back to the barracks. Candidate curfew calls, early morning tomorrow, see." About to head back, to the Weyr, her slow strides halt, and she fashions a brighter smile over her shoulder for Semirath's rider, white teeth pale against the shadows of her features. "I wish you luck with your weyrmate." A breath of a pause, "Ma'am. Good night to you."

Caritha smiles, offering up a wave, "Good luck with that. Definitely don't get in trouble with Rylla, she's not worth it - just compliment her hair or clothing or something if you ever need to try to get out of any trouble." She then grins, "And no need to call me ma'am, just Caritha. I'm probably not more than a turn older than you if that after all. Or have they changed the rules and said you have to say ma'am even when we ask you not to? I know as weyrlings they enforced that but as candidates they were more lax."