Difference between revisions of "Logs:Salvage"

It's been a long night: the wind has roared, the rain has poured, and it's been downright cold. It's morning now, though, and all of that has stopped. From within the caves, it's possible to see a hint of sunlight outside-- and the dragons, outside, can report to the dramatic change in weather... and some definite indications of storm damage to trees, to the beach, and probably further afield. Still, whatever waits for the weyrlings and their weyrlingmasters outside, it's got to be better than staying in these damp, cold caves.

It was a total bastich keeping the fire before 'her' cave alight in the crappy weather, and Alida was only partially successful at doing such. At least there was *some* warmth, at times. And now that she's out when it's not raining, and the sun is actually out, the bluie gets to scope out the carnage.

Yeah, great. This is exactly what she wanted, frizzy hair. Sabella is in the process of 1) trying to comb her hair out and 2) heading straight to the front of the damp cold cave to see what's outside. There's sun there and that has to be better than spending one more minute inside. Ghislaith rumbles outside, glad to see her rider emerging already.

Ahruth is restless. He had to hang out huddled up all night and now his wings stretch and twitch and he cranes his long neck to see up into the sky. E'sren follows Sabella to the front of the cave and beyond without a pause, acting either stupid or brave or maybe those are the same thing in this case. "Really?" he asks no one, a comment in general on the abrupt weather change.

Outside, Solith's glided down to wait, not right up against the cave and, in fact, further back than some of the other dragons like Ghislaith who might have been more of a hurry. She does, however, watch the cave entrance, and not quite like a firelizard eyeing a tunnelsnake's hole, either. She's drippy, her eyes aren't their normal blue, and she's waiting. As for Telavi, whose hair has stayed unhappily in its braids since the storm hit, she troops outside with that one blanket knotted under her neck so it can swing from her shoulders cape-style, and squints out at, "The light. Is that really light? That big glow in the sky?"

It's kind of steamy outside, thanks to the combination of all that water and this newly returned heat. A few trees have fallen in the vicinity of the caves, but it's not as bad as it could be. Still, the path back to the beach - where there's a little spring of fresh water - is no longer as clear as it was. "Check on our camp site," suggests Quinlys, frizzy-haired and with dark shadows beneath her eyes. "I'll try and pack up things here."

Smart-ass that he is, Ilicaeth chuffs grittily after emerging from his homemade tree shelter, « Wha'did we do wrong, oh day ball? » (To Cirrus dragons from Ilicaeth)

"Really. Still glad to be here?" Sabella shoots over her shoulder to E'sren with an impish grin before hopping down onto the ground. Their cave is nice and low to the ground, so it's a short distance. Like a foot. Once onto the beach she begins to tangle her hair up into a rough bun, heading towards the campsite as indicated. "Yes ma'am." And naturally, she hops and walks along the top edges of a fallen tree. One foot in front of the other.

"Maybe. We'll see." E'sren follows after his lithe companion, taking the ground route below her. He runs a hand along Ahruth's muzzle on the way, then shakes the collar of his shirt to try to get some air moving in there. The sun's suddenly so... warm. He's also for the campsite, slow and steady.

Looking around for a moment - greens careful to not dwell on Telavi - Alida grunts at Quinlys' words, and starts winding and climbing her way around and over whatever's fallen during the storm, on her way to the beach. She just *knows* what she's going to find, and the thought of all the work put into properly pitching tents and other things makes the blonde groan inwardly. And Ilicaeth? He's already ahead of her, and moving that way, serving as his lifemate's secondary eyes.

Tela pats her face, murmurs something about moisturizing, and gives their weyrlingmaster's hair a sidelong look without any ma'aming going on. Solith needs petting, so she does, rubbing her hands down the green's nose and then back behind her headknobs. A glance past, to the tree-walking, makes her smile but then it's back to Solith. She'll head to the campsite, she'll just be... slow. Slow, and not looking at Alida particularly either.

K'zin had, early on in the storming, been taking more to staying outside with Rasavyth than inside. Until Quinlys took him aside. The grapevine is alive and well in the caves, so though no one can say the exact phrasing, but the words 'dimglow', 'pneumonia' and 'relapse' were uttered in some combination. After that, he mostly stayed by the fire, watching the flames, drawing things in the bit of dirt on the cave floor with a stick. Now that the weather appears to be clearing, he's following the rest into the steamy scene outside, Rasavyth a ways back from the entrance, evidently unconcerned as others seem to be. He shakes his dull wings, letting a hint of their shiny underside show before re-cloaking himself in their embrace.

It's probably those dragons flying above that see it first, though as the weyrlings come around the bend towards the beach they might too: there's something different around the rocks, past the lagoon. Something... is that a mast? The beach itself is a mess: the campsite is basically gone, the water has gone murky with topsoil and debris, and this tropical paradise seems... an awful lot less perfect.

Ahruth has taken to the sky, as is his wont, and is quick about it, as is his game. He bugles down at the beach as E'sren appears there, to let him know, and the bluerider nods, staring. "Yeah, I see it." The dragon circles, a bright beacon in the sky, undulating and twisting through the currents of air, then casts a wider net and goes further out.

Ghislaith has departed from her post by the caves and has taken to the sky. Indeed she does see that mast in the distance. « Not again. » There's almost an inward groan, all creaky wood and groaning archways. She's touching some distant memory that's become foggy. Sabella catches the message from her lifemate, one broadcasted to anyone that might listen this time. Go figure, Ghislaith. Talking outloud. "A ship?" She glances down to E'sren from her spot on the log and nimbly wanders down to the end of the fallen tree, hitting the sand with both feet. "Do you think there are people trapped in it?"

"Shit..." Alida mouths low to herself after seeing the carnage through Ilicaeth's eyes, the woman silently informing her blue to give her a thorough scan of not only the beach, but the trees, sky. Habit. And while she's walking along at a good clip wherever possible, the guard receives secondhand word from her dragon about that...mast-ey something-or-other, and she stops in her tracks, for a moment. More pirates? A vessel thrown off course in the storm? Her heart beats more rapidly, and with her hand near one of her many knives, the weyrling continues on with more caution.

Tela's divested herself of the blanket, by now, rubbing it over Solith's wings in turn, a job made suddenly difficult by the green twisting her neck and looking up to the sky. « Not again? » There's the groan, but... Ghislaith groans, it's just what happens, it's part of things. « What is it? » As for Telavi, out loud, "Do you want me to do this or not?"

Swirl-gust. « You see this, yet? » A borrowed image from one of the other weyrling dragons shows that mast/ship. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth has not seen it - Olveraeth, who has stayed close to the caves, Olveraeth who has trusted his charges to go on ahead. « Mine says to check it out. In case there are survivors. Remember what we've learned. »

A snappy and brisk salute « You got it. » and Ilicaeth fades off like dust under the door as he goes into mission mode. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

K'zin is at the back of the pack, so it's the general reaction evoked among the weyrlings that has Rasavyth curious enough to take wing. The bronzerider is confused by what he sees as they approach the once-campsite. "What is it?" He echoes Solith, unknowingly. His brows knit, glancing skyward to get the dragon's eye view; but that doesn't much seem to help his confusion yet.

"A ship." Sabella calls back to K'zin, before shielding her eyes to look overhead for her dragon. Her one hand raises and there's some silent communication between the two. The dark green can be seen reluctantly turning on wing and arrowing across the sky to that mast sticking up from the water. « Lets look. » She doesn't sound happy to have to go, so she's not going alone, damn it. Others will share in her 'misery'. Quote, unquote.

From the air, up close, nothing seems to move on the ship. It's wedged up against some treacherous rocks, with deep gashes giving a pretty clear indication that it isn't going to be going anywhere anytime soon. It's not all submerged, though. It is, however, deathly silent. Is there anyone on board?

On Ghislaith's bidding, Ahruth wheels on the tip of a wing to follow, slicing smoothly through the air. E'sren squints up at Sabella, then carries on towards camp, picking his way carefully through those bits that require it. And then, when it's realized that this ship wouldn't be here unless it had been in some kind of trouble, his strides lengthen.

Look. Solith can look, nosing Tela one last time and then leaping up with no regard for the blanket at all. Tela sighs, looks up at her green's airy progress over to Ghislaith and Ahruth and what Ghislaith's found, then gauges the relative distance back to the caves before trotting down towards the beach. Partway down, something kicks in and after a second look upward, Telavi kicks her speed up a notch. No more, though, not with this footing.

There's enough pair of eyes in the air, and Ilicaeth has access to enough of his fellow dragons' views, so the blue stays on terra-firma, up until he's done with his own visual assessment for Alida. Once finished, his new directive becomes 'investigate with caution,' and he does so by sucking in a huge double-lungful of air, and wading out into the warm water, quickly submerging and swimming towards the wreck. And his rider? She's still moving on foot through strewn-about trees and such, and she hasn't made the beach, quite yet.

« Nothing. » Ghislaith's summary of the wrecked ship echoes back to her rider and the other dragons. « Silence. » Such silence. It's not just a description, the dead silence is something she feels, deep in her. That she lends to the others. It makes even her uncomfortable. « Suspicious. » Sabella glances at the destroyed camp, then she looks towards E'sren. "Let's go check for ourselves. It's not too far." And the greenrider begins to pick her way past the broken up tents and sticks, ducking along the jungle path that would lead to the ship.

To Olveraeth, Rasavyth's oozy touch reaches with a smattering of starry shimmers, « You may have been apprised already, but-- there is, evidently, a mast-- or a ship or both where our campsite should have been. Or near it. » The tenor is confused, and vivid images of what he sees from high in the air are passed along; he's never seen a ship, nor has his K'zin. Sketches and backdrops only.

(To Alida): The water is darker and less clear than it was, yesterday morning: much more difficult to see through. Even so, Ilicaeth can see holes in the underside of the ship and... is that... oh. it looks like an arm, hanging limp, from out of one of them.

To Rasavyth, Olveraeth has stars of his own, a whole sky full of them, and that mast rises proud and tall into it... not broken at all, whether or not that is what is really out there. « We've heard, » he confirms. « Investigate. Stay safe. There may be people in need of rescue. »

They'll go together, E'sren and Sabella, no big surprise there. They both prove to be pretty agile, weaving and bobbing to get through the thick parts, while Ahruth and Ghislaith fly overhead.

The wreck is a reasonable distance past the old camp sight, and getting there involves clambering over some of the rocks. At least it's low tide-- but that's only a small mercy. The mast stands tall; the ship itself seems wedged securely enough that it's not going anywhere. There's even a boulder positioned in such a way that it may not be too difficult to get aboard.

Through double-lidded eyes, Ilicaeth shows both Alida and Olveraeth what he sees, and that holey underside and arm. Sounding quite like he's holding his mental air, too « I think he drowned. » Only a hint of regret at that, he's precise and informative with those visuals. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

Sabella's answer to K'zin's question took some processing. Soon enough, the man is jogging toward the evidently deserted vessel, eyes widening as he comes closer. He comes to a halt some feet away, assessing the scene and it's dangers - the rocks, for one. Rasavyth circles lower, curiosity showing in the whirl of his eyes and the general timbre of the oozy touch he exudes. There's a glance from K'zin to Rasavyth, followed by a nod, and he begins picking his way carefully across the rocks, keeping his center of gravity low, and watching for promising footholds, wary of slippage.

The jungle is a mess and the rocks are obnoxious. But Sabella and E'sren are indeed nimble and all sorts of rangy between the two of them, it doesn't take much to get through the tight spots for them. The bigger bolder that brings them to the point of access to the ship has the greenrider eyeballing it carefully. She presses her lips together and begins to move across the slick surface very carefully.

And she basically tap dances her way to the otherside.

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth feels that death more personally; he takes it to heart, saving that nameless person to his starscape, honoring them. « Don't disturb it. There may be others. But there may be survivors. »

That silence shivers right through Solith, and then she's circling back to Telavi, but not for comfort. Or, not just for comfort, because then Tela's knotting the blanket about herself again and climbing astride. It's a little harder going with her straps back at the caves, but she hangs on tightly and Solith flies upward cautiously, angling just high enough above the water to attempt a landing on those poky, treacherous rocks out there. No, Telavi isn't looking around for Quinlys any.

Hanging back to spot Sabella on her way across the boulder, E'sren watches her feet carefully and has his hands poised just in case. Not that she needs any help there. And then, when she makes it, he follows. Not tapdancing, but at least making it.

Alida finds herself emerging onto the beach a ways distant from most, her divided concentration finding her roaming off the path. Everyone else is rock climbing out beyond her, so the blonde simply climbs to get a good overall view from as high up as is safe.

The sails on the ship have torn, but they're flapping in the breeze, still: it's the only noise except for the sound of the weyrlings' footsteps, and the roll of waves against the rocks, and the ship itself. It's... almost eerily quiet.

That didn't go so well, Solith with less vigor than usual what with being outside all night in the rain and the cold and the mud and the general awfulness, and the green skids up only just in time to not crash-land on the rocks. The second time goes a little better, having chosen a different angle, and maybe she might have made it but uncertainty brings her up again. Telavi's not saying a whole lot about it, at least not out loud.

Ghislaith practically hangs overhead, circling the deserted ship. Her discontent is rumbled through the group, just so they all know what a bad idea she thinks this is. Her lifemate's discomfort certainly doesn't stop Sabella from climing right onto the boat, landing on the deck. The silence does get to her and she looks back over her shoulder, watching K'zin and E'sren both as they complete their climb over. Cautiously, she begins to walk forward and peek around.

Slip, thud, "Ow!" Alida barks out as she gets tripped up by some moss, her hip meeting the rocks hard. Someone's gonna have a nasty bruise. Cussing a blue streak under her breath, the blonde gets to her feet again in time to see Solith abandon her landing and try again.

Pulling himself up by the arms, then swinging his legs around, E'sren drops down onto the deck of the ship behind Sabella and meets her eyes when she looks back at him. And if she is going to take the lead, he'll watch her back, taking a flank and keeping watch as he takes slow steps after her. Ahruth ducks and twists to criss cross above them, anxious.

K'zin saves his dancing skills for the dance floor. His movements are careful, precise as he moves across the rocks, no slip of the foot to prompt a splash. The boulder that looks like it can provide access to the ship is examined, and a glance back at those still making their way across the rocks. He situates himself securely to offer a leg up to the next weyrling coming along, so his head doesn't poke as expected over the top where Sabella expects to see him. He does catch Alida's slip, "Y'alright?" He calls to the bluerider.

He continues to investigate underwater, though Ilicaeth *does* have to come of for a good breath. Whatever he discovers below water is relayed to his rider and Ollie, the craggy dragon soon surfacing to take stock of what's now above the waves near the wreck. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

The deck is tilted, no longer level, and it's quite empty. The doors to the lower decks are closed, but, should someone give their handles a try, they're not locked.

(To Alida): There's not much more to find under the waterline... or, at least, Ilicaeth has found nothing more. Though... is that a large box of some kind, a few feet away, resting upon the ocean floor?

A little circling, a little whispering now, and this time, this time Solith makes it onto the rocks, and looks that much more proud of herself for managing, too. With a little sidling, careful of the rocks, she's able to let Tela slide right onto the deck, too... though the weyrling's extra careful with its angle, clinging onto whatever railing or line or whatever she can reach en route to the others. As for Solith, the green's staying put.

K'zin is- Oh, there he is. Sabella was looking concerned as her eyebrows drew together, but he does pop up somewhere. E'sren is around where she'd expect him to be, so she continues forward. With the deck tilted, she's moving carefully across it. The sound of Telavi's arrival onto the deck catches her attention and she glances to her, smiling quickly. "Nice arrival." She calls across to her, before reaching the doors. There's a quick glance to her bluerider companion like she might expect him to advise her to not touch the handles, but she does. Pushing of them inward slowly.

"Yeah-yeah..." Alida calls out to K'zin's inquiry, the blonde rubbing her hip and frowning before she starts climbing again...more slowly. She pauses now and again to ingest the information Ilicaeth's sending her, and finally the woman pauses to give him some sort of order...her features concentrating, eyes distant.

He investigates carefully, noting everything there is to see, until Alida silently sends the blue looking after that large box he might've seen. « Somethin' in it? » is simultaneously inquired of the elder blue and his own rider. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

No warnings are forthcoming from E'sren, even if the look he gives Sabella in return is a tense one. But there's a part of him that wants to be doing this, or else he would have tried to stop her a while back, like before the boulder. Instead he nods once, a subtle agreement. He hasn't taken his eyes off of her so he doesn't look at Telavi and K'zin, or any of the others, too important is making sure nothing jumps out to kill Sabella.

Nothing jumps out to kill Sabella. Win!

Sabella trips on a hole and dies.

And there was much rejoicing. Yaaaaay.

E'sren sadsadsad.

K'zin sets out on an epic quest to restore E'sren's smiley face.

E'sren was full of many sads that day.

K'zin leaves E'sren alone with his sads instead?

(To Sabella): Past the doors, there's a narrow not-quite-staircase, more like a ladder. There's surprisingly little water at the bottom of it-- but it's dark. Maybe there are some glows in that cupboard next to the staircase.

"Thanks," Tela calls quietly back from behind E'sren. And though she gives Sabs a look like maybe, just maybe something's tempting her... instead, she leaves the other greenrider be and tries a different door, quick to peek in if nothing jumps out from there either.

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth's answer is prompt. « I've no idea, » he says. « Do you think you can try and pull it out? »

(To Telavi): The other door opens into a cabin, mostly filled by a big desk and a number of papers thrown about here and there: a mess. A big mess. There's a big stain on the floor, dark, like red wine. Or blood. The broken glass could imply either.

Like a good union man, Ilicaeth - in this circumstance, anyway - doesn't do shinola without a work order. When he hears Olveraeth and Alida urge him to try and recover the thing, the blue gives a mental nod, and dives down there after getting more air. Soon enough, forearms wrap about the box, and powerful strokes of hind legs and even wings, if necessary, propel him to the surface, his tail ruddering him true. (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

Sabella steps in the dark room, edging along the wall to the cupboard that's next to the staircase-ladder within. She pulls the little doors open and sticks her hand inside, rummaging around. Something, anything? "Ugh!" The greenrider makes a squeaky noise and pulls back, shaking her hand out. "Damn spiders." She mutters before trying it again, this time coming out with some glows, lifting her hand up in the air. Hopefully this illuminates the room a little.

(To K'zin): That's weird. The deck is empty, but past the set of doors, further towards the bow... is that a footprint, stained into the wood? And a second, a partial one?

"Be careful!" Alida bellows out to her fellow weyrlings in her best drill instructor tones. "You feel the ship move, get the shell outta' there!" Because it can still sink completely.

E'sren is filtering in behind Sabella, already trying to peer into the darkness. Her squeaked exclamation makes him twitch, looking over immediately to make sure... Yeah, she's fine. Though his face is still a little concerned when the greenly light of the glows hits it, any of those times it does, and he steps carefully, further into the room.

Climbing up the boulder, K'zin shifts to join the others on the slanted deck, brown gaze bouncing around to take stock. Weyrlings present and unharmed? Check. State of the decks? Empty and looking like they've been through a bad storm. Nothing particularly shocking there. "I'd probably go below, if I were them." He says, to no weyrling in particular, and then he's stepping toward the doors after Sabella and company. He follows them in, brown gaze sweeping. There and back, there and-- stop. "Stop!" It's not particularly urgent, just enough to draw attention with a point to the footprint stained into the wood and a second, partial one. "Look." Stained. He frowns, moving to crouch beside one.

Telavi starts to barge in and then... stops short, inhaling sharply, staring at the red stain on the floor and the papers and everything. Taking that deep breath doesn't seem to be helping any. "E'sren? E'sren, are you still out there?"

It's quiet, so quiet, so E'sren hears Telavi calling out from the other room. He seems torn for a moment, then says quietly to Sabella, "I'll be right back." And back he goes, through the open door behind them, out onto the deck. And then he appears in the doorway of Tela's room, his silhouette perhaps a calming thing? "Right here, Tel."

"Great." Sabelly replies dryly as she brings the light over by K'zin's stained footprints. Her eyebrows are drawn and there's some concern now, more than caution. She takes one of the glows in her hand and tosses it over to the bronze weyrling. Then she moves to the other side of the ladder and looks down, there isn't that much water at the bottom. So it's probably clear what she's thinking now.

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth's approval is fond and firm. Good. Good.

(To Sabella): Sabella's room is really more of a corridor, and it's full of crates and boxes, and only a little seawater. A few hammocks hang here and there, but they're all empty. Another ladder leads down lower... and there's definitely more water down there.

The bronzerider accepts the glow from Sabella with a quick, "Thanks," and brought lower to take in the color of the stain, the size of the print, but he has trouble making heads or tails of it, or if he does make anything of it, he doesn't say so aloud. Even though it wasn't his name that came in Telavi's voice, K'zin's chin turns toward the source of the sound and he pushes onto his feet, glancing at the prints one last time.

Since others are doing the investigation, Alida remains the look out and weather eye for the weyrlings, the blonde curling her hand and digits into circles to form 'makeshift' sun shelters for her to peer through.

"Careful," Tela says without looking back, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. "Broken glass. Do you see it?" And there's that smell, blood and something alcoholic, sharper than wine. "And the blood?" That last part only quavers a little. "Do you think Quinlys would kill me if I threw this blanket over... she probably would."

"Yeah maybe don't, uh," E'sren is distracted, looking from Telavi and then in the direction of where he just was, where Sabella is. "Do that," he finishes, brow furrowed. And he drifts away.

Sabella slips down into the level that has some water, but not a lot. The corridor is full of crates and boxes, she tests the lids on a few of them to see what's inside. None of them are budging yet, but that doesn't keep her from trying. She gets to the next ladder and glances down it, the higher water levels keeping her from going down there just yet. Of course, she's moving further and further away from everyone else and she's mostly silent, so that's probably comforting. She just keeps tugging on the lids of crates, hoping to find a loose one.

(To Sabella): Finally one of the lids comes off. Inside... grain. Lots of it. And dry, too. This one's more of a barrel-shape than some of the others; does that mean there's all kinds of things down here? All kinds of supplies?

(To K'zin): There's a railing, a few feet past those footprints, and... is that another mark there? Red-tinged? As if someone put a hand there as they vaulted across?

"Okay," Telavi says to E'sren before he retreats, only it's more of an acknowledgement because she's going in, with or without the blanket-carpet. She bites her lip, hangs onto the doorframe for purchase, and starts easing herself into the room, trying to avoid stepping on anything but bare wood. The side of her boot will do for sweeping glass aside, and she'll pick up papers as she comes across them, but that stain... She breathes shallowly, like that will help her not smell' it.

Looking more like a blue submarine breaching the surface than a dragon, Ilicaeth keeps his forearms wrapped carefully around the box he's discovered while his rear legs and tail do the work of propelling and ruddering him along. A dutiful, but yet still companionably merry warble is offered to his clutchsibs up there in the sky and on the ground, Alida grinning and waving at her blue as she spies him paddling towards land.

Sabs pries one loose finally, holding the glow overhead to illuminate the grain within. "What's a shipment of supplies doing all the way over here." She murmurs to herself, replacing the lid and trying to pry up another. « Ilicaeth. Supplies. » Since it would proably be remiss for her to not tell the present Cirrus wingsecond standing watch about it. Oh and maybe, « Olveraeth. » The ship. The weyrlings. The supplies. Stained footsteps. Maybe now is the time to tell Quinlys.

(To Telavi): The papers seem to have been torn out of something. If Telavi looks at them, closely, she'll see that they seem to be log entries, though none of them actually note the name of this vessel, or where she comes from.

Telavi's on her own for the moment, E'sren is going back into whatever room he was in a second ago, the one with Sabella in it. When he realizes she isn't visible anymore he quickens over to the only other place she could be: down. "Sabella?" he calls. Marco?

Ooh! And now there's supplies, which could go far for the hard-put upon Weyr! With a salvager's glee, Ilicaeth rumbles around rainbow sands to his Wingleader, « I found a box, too! Be careful with everything...it might help us this Winter. »

K'zin follows the prints, from the door, on the deck of the ship, to the rail, and he touches briefly a mark on the rail. His eyes do a 360* to take in the make of the ship. Might there have been a rowboat here? Or did whomever made the rail mark just take their chances with the angry sea.

"E'sren?" Sabella calls down the hallway and up some, to the bluerider standing at the top of the other ladder. "Down here. I found some barrels and crates, there's grain in them." A pause. "Ilicaeth found some outside the ship too. There's not much water down here. The next level is... deeper. I could go down there, maybe." But that's dubious and it doesn't sound likely that she's going to try it.

« Supplies? » Olveraeth sounds... both surprised and not surprised, as though he is surprised, but realises, belatedly, that he shouldn't be. « Where does the ship come from? » he wants to know. « Have you found any... » He won't say it. Survivors? Non-survivors? « Watch out. Keep an eye out. Stay safe. »

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth projects « Can yours open the box? » Olveraeth's curious. « If she can... »

It's just a passing glance, a habit, but all of a sudden Tela's staring at the one paper in her hand and then hastily moving to pick up more all of a sudden. Outside, Solith warbles to Ilicaeth, a little off-kilter but all too ready to recognize his hunting-gathering prowess, right before staring at the boat some more as though she could see right through all the timbers. What's hard are the papers that are wet. Those get pulled up unhappily by one corner, and she sets them atop the desk with the clean pile before starting to go through the drawers, moving more quickly now. Her only pause is to glance upward and then, frowning, down. But Solith does reply to Olveraeth and the others, unhappily, « Blood. »

Dutifully passing along Olveraeth's blurb, Ilicaeth broadcasts wider this time, including all his fellow wingmates in his rainbow-sanded, « I've got the box up on the beach. Gonna' look around more at the underside uv the ship. It's got lotsa' holes in the bottom, so tell alla' yers not ta go too deep inside. »

(To Telavi): It looks as though these drawers have already been gone through, recently. The bottom one... huh. The bottom of it has been pulled out to reveal a secret compartment, and it's empty.

Chuff! « She's comin' down, now. Gotta take it slower; the rocks're slippery. » (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

Sabella won't have to wait for a reply, E'sren has followed the sound of her voice and takes the same way she did to get down to her level, to find her, to see what she's seeing. No questions asked, he just follows her. The splash surprises him, when he drops down, but the water isn't terrible so he forgets about it and approaches her in the strange hall. "I'd rather you didn't," he offers, in case she was wondering his opinion on the whole her going deeper thing.

And the the ship sank.

And the weyrlings all drowned, The end.

The ship lost its dice roll.

Did we mention the kraken?

Do ships get a morale roll?

Oh shit. Not the kraken.

Sure. Ships get what they want.

Already picking her way down those damned, slippery rocks, Alida falls another time as she nears the bottom, the bluie this time not bothering to hide her loud and elaborate swearing. That's now one ass-cheek, as well as a hip bruised.

(To K'zin): There are some ropes hanging from the side of the ship, which could mean that there was a row-boat here at some point - or some kind of boat, anyway. But it's gone, now: there's no sign of anything, out to sea. Could anyone have made it, given the storm?

"Ilicaeth is saying that the bottom of the ship is full of holes." Sabella relays to E'sren, even as she stares down the next set of ladders. Caution and maybe an innate sense not wanting to drown stops her. The set of hammocks along the wall gets her attention and she starts to poke around them. "Maybe we can find some personal things here, anything. Just to tell us who they were?"

Drawer, drawer, slammed drawer, another, and then Tela's swearing at the last one, which is not like the others but that hitherto secret compartment, it's empty. Empty, and unbroken, no marks from being forced. Another frown directed upward leads to, « Olveraeth? » and a flashed image of the place. « We think someone took things and is not here anymore. They took important things. » Solith's tail is swishing, no more happily than before, but Telavi doesn't go up just yet; she scans the room, ceiling and floor, scanning for anything else that could be important.

(To E'sren): Funny. It looks like some of the smaller boxes have been disturbed, and not in a random 'ship being rammed into rocks' kind of sense. Like someone went through them. Oh... and is that a foot? On the ground? Probably attached to a leg?

E'sren nods agreement, mostly just relieved that Sabella isn't going to go any lower than they already are, and all too happy to do whatever else she wants to do. "Sure, okay." He didn't see her try to lift the lids on those crates so he tries now, and eventually comes to the one she opened with the grain inside. From there, he sloshes over one way until his foot hits a smaller box there on the floor, in the water, and he kneels to inspect it. The lid is askew. He furrows his brow and narrows his eyes, then lets them wander to the side slightly. To find another foot. Not his. Someone else's. All at once he's lurching forward, making a big splashy noise, to where hopefully there's also a person attached to that foot. Or maybe just a foot.

Well, the blood had to come from somewhere. Once the ropes that look like they could have once held a boat of some kind are examined with a keen eye, K'zin is turning back to the doors from whence the footprints came and heading within, poking his head through the first open doorway.

Dead bodies in the holds of shipwrecks aren't usually supposed to have their throats cut... are they?

« Important things, » repeats Olveraeth, uncertain. « But there are no people there now? » His voice is lifted to ask the question of all of the weyrlings currently inspecting the wreck, checking in with them one by one. « If you don't feel safe, come back. » But supplies. Can they take the supplies? Should they take the supplies?

Those weyrlings who lingered at the campsite have no doubt been drawn in by the chatter between dragons, as a knot of them are on their way up the beach and towards the wreck now. They're from those weyrlings who were Cirrus before the group merged, with Aisha leading the way, followed by April, J'madri, N'ky and a few others. While most of them scramble across the rocks towards the ship, passing Alida as they do so, N'ky stays back on the beach, hesitant to attempt the same path given his recent injury. Cailluneth comes in from above to land heavily behind him, and he rests against her to watch.

(To Alida): Once Alida gets to Ilicaeth's crate, she'll find that the lid is already partway ajar. It's all wet, of course, but inside... well. Salt-water shouldn't irrevocably ruin wool.

"Yeah, that one has grain in it. Did I tell you that alrea- E'sren? E'sren!." Because the sight of him lurching forward has her abandoning the surch of the personal belongings off to the side. She drops whatever was in her hand and splashes through the water to him, where she sees that foot sticking out. Her voice catches in her throat and she pushes one of the boxes out of the way to reveal more of the body. "Oh, that's... too bad." Because having your throat cut is never a good way to go. She's less disgusted by this than the spider however.

There's a person for sure, but when E'sren drops forward onto his knees and sees that the person is dead, and just how the person is dead, he reacts. "Sabella." In the only way that matters to him right now to react. Ahruth bugles again, a trumpet of warning, and broadcasts, « Dead! » But that's all, and it isn't very helpful. E'sren is standing, backing away, turning and reaching for Sabella to take her and steer her back the way they came if he can, or at least to block her sight of the body on the floor of the hold. Too late for that, he just starts trying to get her out of this fucking hold. "Out. Out, out. We're done. Quinlys!" « Olveraeth! »

Finally making it down to the beach head, Alida jogs to her dragon, and gives Ilicaeth some sound thumps of prideful congratulations and a rub of one of his lowered headknobs. Croooon. When the blonde moves over to the box, she finds its lid part way ajar. With some aid from her blue, the woman soon enough finds a bunch of seawater-logged wool. Uhm...ick? Through her blue to the other dragons and weyrlings: « It's wool...with seawater in'it. Can we still use this? » Because, unlike Olveraeth, he's not at all hesitant about claiming the scavenger's rights. Ahruth's bugel makes both bluies look outward.

"E'sren, E'sren. We should check his pockets." And she puts a hand to his arm to stay him before he can drag her along down the corridor. Should he try to drag her along he'll find her completely uncooperative. "Wait, just wait. Please." She's polite for a person pulling herself away and kneeling down next to the corpse. She takes a breath and tries to ignore the stench as she pulls on his shirt, jacket, pants. Looking for pockets anywhere, to see if there's something on him that could help.

(To Sabella): The guy has a tattoo on his wrist: a shipfish with evil looking eyes. His pockets are empty, except for the one in his shirt, in which there's a letter, folded up tight and worn with age and time, as though he's had it there for a very long time.

Obviously shaken, because he doesn't see all that many dead fucking bodies, E'sren is shaking his head with a pained, sad, unhappy look on his face as Sabella resists. He wants out, out out out. But he doesn't do more to force her, just lets her move past him to the body, and listens with his back turned to them both as she roots around in his pockets. He puts his hands over his face and scrubs.

Looking through the rest of the room doesn't seem to make Telavi any happier, staring at what's there and, more importantly, what's missing. It does let her glean a couple of pillowcases, though, so she can put the clean-ish papers in one and the horrible wet smelly papers in the other... only to nearly drop the latter, because bugling. Is hers a room that has footprints leaving it? Because, after fumbling to recover the impromptu sacks, she's about to accidentally make more.

« Dead? Who? » Rasavyth queries, his ooze radiating calm and focus. The room K'zin's face pokes into is the one where Telavi is. He practically meets her at the door. "Alright, Tela?" He asks, looking a touch awkward. But, what's a little awkwardness in moment like this when there's dead things, blood, and all this going on?

Dead. Olveraeth is unhappy about this. There's definitely something of his rider's tone of voice in his, however, when he says: « You don't need to stay. Leave the body. Though... » Supplies. « We can use the wool, Ilicaeth. If you feel right in taking it. » Does he? Do they? « Perhaps we should all assemble on the beach. »

« There's a dead...drowned person in the bottom, too » Ilicaeth adds with no consternation whatsoever to his wingmates. « Alida wants to know how this other human died. »

Sabs finds something in his upper pocket, it looks like a letter. She folds it and holds it close to her. And perhaps this is a thing or maybe not, but. She dips into her own pockets to pull out two worn small mark pieces, reaching out to close his eyelids and leaving her tokens there. For whoever he is. "I'm sorry, but we had to." She tells him, apologetic but not overly so as she tugs on the bluerider's arm. Leading them back up the letter and out onto the deck, the lighter is much better. She leans into E'sren and unfolds the paper to read it, holding it out for him to see too.

« His throat was cut. » Ghislaith announces with clinical detachment to Ilicaeth. « They're coming up now. »

(To Sabella and E'sren) The letter is a love-letter, from a sweetheart to her 'Raiskel'. She promises to wait for him, and will miss him every day that he's gone. It's signed 'Teiranne'.

They're a salvage team, and first dibs, so of course Ilicaeth feels perfectly fine with taking the wool. « It would just rot, Ollie. Just like everything else. We earned the right of use. » To Ghislaith, there's instant attention, his rainbow of sand turning a bit ochre in concentration. Pause. « Pirates, maybe? »

E'sren is only too relieved to be able to get the hell out of that place, with the dead man, but sees Sabella up first even so before following her up the ladder and out onto the deck, out of that room and out into the sun. He's still got his face in his hand when she leans into him, but removes it to wrap his arm instinctvely around her waist, forces his eyes to focus on the words on the page. And at some point he winces and looks away, covering his mouth and pretty much just looking distraught.

Wide eyes. At least Telavi stops short of bumping into K'zin, though momentum makes her sacks swing forward without her. All that more-than-awkward, she can remember that later but right this second, "Oh! It's you. Don't go in, K'zin, there's blood on the floor and glass," and reminded, she scrapes the sole of one foot against the doorframe and then the other. During that, "Do you know if the other rooms got checked? This might be the captain's, I don't know," and did she mention blood?

« Waste not, want not. The grain in the hold is still dry. Some should go down and take it. Those that aren't too afraid that is. » Ghislaith to Ilicaeth and Olveraeth.

Covering the box again, and using Ilicaeth's greater mass and leverage to close a few of the nails he once pried up along with the cover, Alida mounts up on her blue, and soon both are in the air, though Ilicaeth's a bit clumsy, given he's having to lift off and land with the woolly thing.

Olveraeth is uncertain, but Quinlys, it seems, is not. « She agrees. » To all of the weyrling dragons: « If your riders are willing, set them to gathering up the supplies. We... » It's almost funny. « Really will bring home supplies. »

« Agreed...though if it's too dangerous, screw it. » (To Olveraeth and Ghislaith from Ilicaeth)

Sabs finishes reading the letter and exhales deeply. She stuffs it into the front pocket of her pants and untwines herself from the bluerider. She must know or feel that he doesn't want to go back down there, so she doesn't ask. It's not long that she's gone, but when she returns from below again that little bulge of paper from where the letter was living is now gone. If he asks or even looks like he's about to ask, "It wasn't ours to keep."

Ahruth has at last calmed, once seeing his rider safe and sound on the deck below, and glides to a landing on the beach with clean precision. E'sren reluctantly lets Sabella go when she pulls away, stands there on the deck breathing in and out in measures to calm himself. When the greenrider returns her explanation is warranted, he did give her a look, but understanding is quick, and he just shakes his head and quietly moves to help with unloading or whatever else might need to be done.

K'zin offers out a hand for one of the sacks Telavi carries, "Yeah?" comes his question once she's finished, "There were footprints. I think probably blood now that--" He glances over Telavi's head and swallows hard. "And a red handprint on the rail where it looks like there may have been a boat." He steels himself and glances behind her again. "Anything else in there? Any sign of where this ship is from?"

By now, Quinlys has made it as far as the edge of the rocks, her hands clasped tightly, warily, behind her back, and her gaze set firmly on that distant ship, and the weyrlings still clambering about on it. Her expression is tight; she waits.

Once Ilicaeth's not-too-gracefully landed and settled the box of wool to the sand - and Alida's skittered down his shoulder - she gestures the other weyrlings, N'ky over to help her pull that nappy and saltwater logged shit out of said box, after asking Ilicaeth to pry it open again.

Well, that was fun. But with Quinlys there on shore, Sabella clambers over the side of the ship and across the wet rocks. She's had enough of the stuff on the lower levels of the ship, thanks. There's a glance to see if E'sren follows or if he's left to help move things. Either way she departs the ship, perhaps disappearing quietly into the background for now.

Rasavyth has been circling, watchful for wider dangers, but after a time, he shifts his course, veering low. Though the small bronze has had issues with takeoff and landing in the past, his narrow frame gives him some advantages where agility is concerned when compared to others of his color. It is not difficult for him therefore to do a low pass.

Tela glances down at her impromptu sacks, and surely she must be sorely tempted to give K'zin at least the one with the bloody contents, her teeth pressing briefly into her lip. But, "No. No, they're bulky, not heavy, they're the same sort of thing and I want to keep them together," and she switches them both to the same hand to show him, looking up. "So he did leave. It looked sacked, the important stuff gone... I'm hoping there will be signs in these, they looked like some sort of log, torn out of something? But we should look when we're off the ship. Do you know if the other rooms got searched?" With that, she's aiming to slip past him into the walkway, away from that bloody room.

E'sren is definitely coming, but he's bringing stuff with him. A sack, at least for now, as he follows Sabella and, upon passing Quinlys at whatever point, he gives her a grim look. It cannot be unseen! After this, and The Incident, there's no way he'll ever be the same. Never the same~

Awkwardness increased. K'zin turns so Telavi can get by him more easily, "No idea. I was on deck. Bloody handprint and everything." His baritone comes out a little stilted, then he's simply walking away from the greenrider, heading toward the ladder, looking down.

A snapshot is delivered in vivid color as Rasavyth's sweep completes, the partial name of the vessel. The assumption is, of course, that the Weyrlingmaster is the Official Information Repository for this impromptu recovery venture. (To Olveraeth from Rasavyth)

Something about K'zin's tone, or something, has Tela looking back after him, more baffled than anything. Until, all of a sudden it hitsl, "He could still be out there, K'zin. Out in the other boat. They could be, what if there are more? We should look." But the storm. What are the chances?

To Rasavyth, Olveraeth acknowledges the information, and, presumably, adds it to the stockpile. This whole thing is getting... weirder and weirder.

K'zin shifts the glow he carries into his pocket, extinguishing the dim light for the moment and giving his eyes time to adjust. "Yeah. He could. Maybe they. If the storm didn't get them anyway. Whoever he was, he couldn't have predicted how bad it'd be." A shrug of his shoulders, "You should head back, Telavi. Give Quinlys what you found." And then he heads down the ladder.

To Olveraeth, Rasavyth's curiosity is obviously piqued. « Is any part of this not weird? Besides that there was a storm and ship ran aground, as they say in the nautical books? »

"Soon." Tela has rooms to search, and search she does, one room and the next until... blood was one thing, but now there's a yelp that verges on a shriek, followed by a quick, "Okay, okay, it's just he's dead!" Solith's far less than excited about providing the image, the man's head bashed and the sharp wooden protrusion that might have caused it in his fall. At least it's not a slit throat?

A sense of distance is conveyed in the way the reflected collective crowd voice only whispers in the background of the oozy tenor purr. A red banner flaps for attention. « I thought you and your Jo might be interested to know, though you didn't hear it from me... A ship ran aground in the storm in Southern. Perhaps nothing of note, but... » A vivid image is conveyed, in the dim light of a single glow, a leering smile from a dead man's throat. « That doesn't seem particularly normal. » Beat. « Does you or your Jo recognize this? » Another flash, a tattoo on the wrist of one such man, a ship-fish with evil-looking eyes. (To Tacuseth from Rasavyth)

When K'zin reappears up the ladder, the glow is between his teeth, casting light on his markedly paled face. There are no smiles as he plucks the glow from his pearly whites. "Tela, you still here?" He calls as he leans into one doorframe and then the next, seeking her out.

Shadows suddenly converge on that red banner. There's even further distance, but the image suddenly sharpen, as if to show that Tacuseth's attention shifts from what he focuses on to this. « Interested, yeah, » he sends in greeting. Some silence, and then, « No, she is not familiar » he returns, with some uncertainty as he says it. « Yers found him? » he asks now. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth)

To Rasavyth, Olveraeth's answer is amused, if in a dry, rueful kind of way. « Perhaps not. This is why we should never take you weyrlings anywhere. » It's all their fault, obviously.

« Likely not the first to. Perhaps the first to notice the mark. I do not know. Ahruth said dead, but I do not know what his E'sren saw. There is blood. The office » an image, blood, shattered glass, emptied out, « looks to have been searched and footprints lead to what may have been a boat tie up on the side. Only one is dead from unnatural causes. The others appear to have drowned. They all bear the mark. If your Jo should find out what it is, do let me know, won't you? » (To Tacuseth from Rasavyth)

"Yes...s. Almost done!" He can follow her voice, but if he waits it won't be long at all before Telavi backs out: she's gotten all too quick at this. Either way, she's still got the pillowcase-sacks, that blanket still tied incongruously about her waist, and the whites of her eyes are showing for all that her voice strives for calm. "A second... one. Dead one. A man." She's more on the E'sren end of the scale than the Sabella end, no searching the bodies for her.

To Olveraeth, Rasavyth's amusement can't be helped; even, or perhaps especially, in a time as troubling as this, « Tch. I'd argue the opposite is true. This is why you should take us places. Firstly, because it gives us excellent life experience. Secondly, because if you didn't, weird things would only happen at the Weyr instead. There is enough of that going around without something like a shipwreck on the shore of the lake when it's iced over. That would be weird. » He provides a crisp mental painting of such an event, for amusement's sake.

The mark seems to be mulled over from blue dragon and rider, the silence perhaps evidence of it before he returns with, « Could be a theft gone wrong, » the musing likely more idly given by his Jo than by him. « Mine thinks this isn' uncommon. But, she will look into it'n see what can be found. » Curiosity in dragon is certainly evident, and taking up random investigations seems like something they don't even hesitate to take up. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth)

Hah. Very amusing. « I don't know that we necessarily agree with that, » he says, but it's not a completely dismissal of it, all the same. « Are you and yours coming back? It may not be safe. » (To Rasavyth from Olveraeth)

The bronzerider is waiting in the hall when Telavi appears. He nods to her words, asking, "Did he-- she? have anything on him-- her?" That's a definite point toward the Sabs end of the spectrum for K'zin. "To tell us where they're from?" A pause, "There's more than one below. None-- none can be rescued." He notes with a hard swallow.

« Should it become relevant, one had a love note. It was addressed and signed. So, two names linking two lives. Perhaps the writer can be found and convinced to tell more. » A needle in a hay stack, to be certain, or as Rasavyth conveys it, a single grain of sand in the arena. He begins sifting thoughtfully. « The writer was 'Teiranne' » A flash of the signature. (To Tacuseth from Rasavyth)

More clues. Tacuseth sifts through all given, too, even if he's still distracted. Business, never stops for anyone. Then, « Could they be...pirates? » He tastes the word, it clearly not a question of his own making. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth)

« Perhaps. » The bronze allows, though there is no conviction to the possibility; he doesn't have enough information to make an educated guess. « The lack of identifying items might suggest that. They were carrying supplies. » (To Tacuseth from Rasavyth)

Curiosity prompts Rasavyth's reach to the blue's mind. « Has your Alida seen death before? » (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth)

There's a time delay before the bronze replies. « He is coming. Sort of. He got side-tracked with Solith's Telavi. He found many and more below, all dead. One whose throat was slit. Others drowned. Supplies that were unsalvageable. Solith's Telavi says there is another somewhere. » (To Olveraeth from Rasavyth)

If Tacuseth could nod, he would. Instead, he lets the spike of the crowd be an indication thereof. « Are ya bein' looked after? » he asks now, showing the brief images of Meara and Quinlys - even I'zech. (To Rasavyth from Tacuseth)

"You're wet," is the first thing Tela says, mistress of the obvious, and it's an exclamation. "You didn't fall in, did you? Water in the hold, right, some of the rooms downhill had some, is there much more water coming in down there?" All that comes before answers, but the answers come quickly enough afterward, paired with deep discomfort straining her features. "I, I didn't look. I really don't want to look. But it's that door there. And the other one," she's pointing towards where the walkway angles downward with the list of the boat. 'Downhill.'

"He was floating."

"Fall in?" K'zin sounds mildly surprised as if the possibility of such hadn't occurred to him. Everyone's invincible at eighteen, right? "No, I didn't fall in. But yes. More coming in. Much? I don't know. How much is usual for a sinking ship? Olveraeth says is mightn't be safe." He glances past Telavi from the direction she came. "Get ashore, I'll check quickly and follow you."

Touched with pride at a job well done and only semi-busy helping the weyrling move about the big box full of wool, Ilicaeth responds with a certain weight, his raspy baritone steady, « Yeah. Lots uv times. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth)

Quietly, the ooze seems less substantial than usual, affected by K'zin's deep disquiet. « This is his first time. » A silence. « Perhaps yours can be a friend to him, later. When there is time to process. » (To Ilicaeth from Rasavyth)

Though he doesn't show the bronze visually, Ilicaeth lets him know, without words, that Alida, too, was disturbed at her own first sight of human death. A small golden eddy of sand skates by, promises, « She'll be there. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth)

Momentary relief's overlaid by the way her brows draw in. "Of course you didn't." Tela's voice is more wry than anything for the barest moment there. "All right, just, I"ll go, but I'll wait right at the base there," the way back up to the upper deck, "Just in case. It won't take long, and Solith's still right out there."

Beckoned by Alida, N'ky isn't long in joining her, Cailluneth making her way along behind him. The others have left to help on the ship, so it's just the lanky greenrider who looks cautiously at the box, squinting at the wool. "That'll need a lot of washing," he murmurs, recognising it as wool as he helps tug the sodden stuff from the box to lay it on the sand, where it should dry.

It doesn't take long. Ish. Long enough that it might give Telavi cause to worry; it takes time to search thoroughly. But probably just about the time that she might be thinking to call out or go check on him, he's reappearing, paler, still, than before. "Let's go." And he does, movements careful on the wet deck, but he doesn't take his time about it, just enough to make sure out of the corner of his eye that Telavi's not having an issue on the slippery wood.

Seperating and laying the stuff out isn't Alida's typical choice of work, but at least she's moving around, and out in the sun. Speaking of: the bluie stops, nabs something out of one of her larger beltpouches, and kneels in the sand while N'ky works. It's a jar with a screw-on lid, and inside is some kind of creme that smells lightly of coconut and other pleasantly fragarant things...the stuff applied liberally to her very fair skin wherever the sun can reach. "Smells nasty..." the blonde comments to N'ky, of the wool. Nose wrinkle.

Long enough that there was some pacing going on, long enough that Tela knotted the two pillowcases together to avoid their contents spilling out, long enough that... But after a look at K'zin's face, Telavi swallows the question on her lips and hurries. She manages the wood by following rails wherever possible, and then there's Solith, her bare neck leaning over for her approaching rider. Tela calls over, "There's a ride if you want one," but then there's also the more usual way, and she makes a quick job of getting up in preparation for an unremarkable glide down to where Quinlys and others are. Or, not right to where Quinlys is, far enough away to make Solith's state of undress at least a little less obvious.

"It's the lanolin," N'ky replies, crouching to run fingers over the fleece he's next to. He squeezes it the sodden wool, watching the water pool out. "The oil. They need to be w-washed still, but, um, they might shrink if they're wet and drying here in the sun, without a-anything to hold them out. We used to have racks for them." The hand that was caressing the wet wool is lifted to his nose, which wrinkles at the smell. "And the s-salt won't do them any good. They need to be washed, in, um, fresh water."

Gust-scrape. « N'ky says this wool's gotta be washed in fresh water really soon, 'r it'll go bad. We figure there's gotta be a lagoon *somewhere* around 'ere. Either that, 'r people from the Weyr need ta pick it up now. » (To Olveraeth from Ilicaeth)

Quinlys has a group of weyrlings around her, and a collection of crates and barrels from the ship's hold, though it's certainly not most of them. She's so busy talking, she doesn't even notice Solith-- though it's hard to know whether, at this point, she'd really care. "Well," she's saying, "It's not as though they will be using it, now. And that ship won't be leaving here in a hurry. If we knew who it belonged to..."

The ride is accepted. K'zin clmbing down upon Solith's arrival and heading for the Weyrlingmaster and her entourage. "Ma'am? They all had a tattoo. If that helps." Rasavyth obligingly shares with Olveraeth the exact image, "On their wrists." He chews his lip as though there's something more that he might say, but doesn't. He looks to Telavi and her sacks, curiously.

N'ky nods at Alida, before looking over his shoulder to Cailluneth. A moment of silent conversation passes between them, before he nods again, then looks back to the bluerider. "Um, l-let the dragons carry them. We'll not be able to, not that far. Cailluneth?" The green extends a paw, toes spread and flexed to pick up whatever's to be carried. "A, um, comb might help, too? If anyone's got one, that is." The greenrider with the permanently scruffy curls certainly doesn't. "Combing might help to l-loosen some of the salt."

To Ilicaeth, Olveraeth's answer is relatively prompt: « The spring. As long as it's still there. » The spring where they've been getting all their fresh water from. It isn't big... but it's a start. « Let us know if you need anything more. »

Which is a cue for Telavi, slightly slower what with having finally ditched that blanket by Solith, to offer up those pillowcase-sacks. Only then she stops to unknot them and then, even when they're open again, doesn't immediately give them up. Instead she reaches in, showing pieces of paper ripped from their binding. "They look like they're from a logbook, Weyrlingmaster, I'd like to look through them. I think they were from the captain's cabin. It looked like people left with enough time to take things with them." She's got her own look for K'zin, too, but doesn't yet say more.

"Not usin' my hair comb fer *that*..." Alida again nose-wrinkles to N'ky's suggestion, the woman just about to reply further when Ilicaeth interrupts her. A quirk of head in the blue's direction soon finds her looking back at the greenie again, and telling him, "Apparently we c'n use at least summa' the water from the spring. If it's there, uv course." Snert. "How 'bout we have Cai 'n 'caeth take all this crap up t'the spring, assign a detail ta' wash is up some while I search fer more water up there." Cue a point upward to the sky. "Since yer our local expert on wool, y'c'n supervise the efforts on the ground."

Tattoos. Logbooks. Bodies. Quinlys looks increasingly out of her depth, for all that she's widening her stance and drawing her shoulders back. Silver thread training or no, this is not something she's experienced in. "That sounds like a good idea, Telavi," she says. And, "I've no idea what the tattoo could mean. Or any of it. But you think some of them got away? Took things with them?" She turns her head, glancing out to sea. And, "I don't imagine we'd ever find them, even if we flew over and over forever. Maybe we should just pack everything up and go home."

It's a subtle thing, but since Rasavyth has been projecting his sense of calm and focus for any who'd like to benefit from it, it's perceptible when that exuding influence eases off. It can be extrapolated that it eases off of K'zin as well and that is why suddenly, just as Telavi looks at him, K'zin is turning and bolting as many yards away as he can get before he's doubled over, losing his last meal to a sandy grave.

"I f-figured I was done with wool when I left h-- Fa-- that all behind," N'ky mutters as he drags two of the fleeces towards Cailluneth, before going back to drag a couple more. When he stops he rubs at his left arm, wincing. "We'll need something to stretch them out, 'Lida. Heavy rocks, or something, unless, um, s-someone can whip up some racks real quick." He sounds doubtful as he bunches up the fleeces for Cailluneth to be able to carefully hold them.

Telavi's looking ashen all of a sudden herself, what with Rasavyth flipping the switch and the sudden retching and the reminder, the reminder... "I was going to ask what it looked like, the tattoo," she gets out of her mental queue, darting a glance back at K'zin before, right, giving him at least that little bit of privacy again. More directly if shakily, "That's right, I forgot, how could I forget, could we just look some, at least? What if they're just a little cove away? Or stranded, not too far even? We could rescue them and, and then they'd be safe, and we'd know who the things belong to without having to hunt, and... and everything."

"Fuckin' rocks enough nearby..." Alida mutters in return, her ass and hip reminding her of the presence of their smaller cousins impact upon soft flesh. With quick orders, the wingsecond sends three of her fellow weyrlings off to gather up the proper size and amount of rocks in some sacks she climbs up Ilicaeth's straps to grab from his packs...then tosses down to them. "Fly 'em t'the spring after Ilicaeth gives word we're there." It won't take long, hopefully. To N'ky is clipped off a quick, "Don't over-strain that. We got lots uv bodies ta' do work." Is that a groan from some of the less enterprising weyrlings nearby? No matter, she's back at it soon after covering her skin with creme, 'lida storing it back where it came from, then starting to gather up more wool, along with the now moving blue dragon of hers. A quick word from him has her glancing farther along the beach, where K'zin's now tossing his cookies. Sigh.

Quinlys' gaze leaves K'zin, giving him some privacy for his upchuckery, and focuses instead upon Telavi. "You don't think we should keep what we've salvaged," she concludes, in a way that stops just barely short of making it a question. She continues without waiting for an answer, saying, "If you'd like to try and hunt them down, that's fine. Take a few hours to do so. The rest of us will try and get all of this squared away. It can come back to the Weyr for now, until or unless we determine it needs to go somewhere else."

It comes from experience: not his own, but Alida's, yet Ilicaeth shares, anyway. « Have 'im slowly eat some plain crackers, 'r bread. Not much, but enough ta' absorb the stomach acid. Only lukewarm water in tiny sips; too much, 'r too cold'll make 'im sick all over again. » (To Rasavyth from Ilicaeth)

"I've got it," N'ky's reply is a tad sullen for the suggestion he's incapable of doing what he's trying to do. The greenrider's got everything in place that will fit in his lifemate's paws anyway, and he mounts up slowly, still favouring his left arm. One up and buckled in, he sits and waits for Ilicaeth's go.

Softly, Rasavyth reaches for Solith and through her, her Telavi, as his swell of calm and focus resumes. Clearly the reaction from his rider has him reconsidering his choice to let it bleed off. « We will search with you, if that is acceptable to you and your Telavi. » (To Solith from Rasavyth)

She's a little merciless, even with friends, in certain cases. "You re-injure that arm in any fashion, y'll be stranded South until it heals enough again. How bout' them apples?" Alida clips off to N'ky, the woman finally securing the bundles of *nasty* smelling wool upon Ilicaeth's back...the blue snorting at the stench, too. Once strapped in securely, straps double-checked, the woman looks around while her blue informs Ghislaith and Ollie what's up, and then gives N'ky the signal. Up up and away! Hopefully to find some dang real water.

The calm and focus revs back up. Clearly, the bronze didn't anticipate that very natural human reaction to encountering dead bodies for the first time. When K'zin straightens, he takes a moment to compose himself before walking sedately back to the group. Nothing to see here. He fishes in his pocket a moment and then he reaches out a closed palm to Quinlys, ready to deposit some marks in her hand once she's ready to accept it. And then, a folded piece of paper. "Clues," is his mumble.

"Yes, ma'am. I mean, about the hunting; about the gear, I was only thinking that it belongs to... though we did do the work of..." but with Quinlys having moved on, Telavi ducks her head and quits it right there. A deep breath later, she's looking significantly more like herself, and who knew that that breathing mantra really did work that well? With that, she starts to start for Solith-- but stays a little bit more because things getting handed over.

Solith's answer is, « Please. » And it's tinged with fire. (To Rasavyth from Solith)

Cailluneth doesn't have the wool strapped to her back when she takes off; it's clutched within her two forepaws, held tight as she follows Ilicaeth towards fresh water.

Quinlys shoots Telavi a thoughtful glance, but K'zin's return, and his closed palm, have her extending her own hand, accepting what he gives her with several long blinks. "Uh," she says, as if she's singularly unused to being given money by weyrlings. And then, "Oh. I think--" She turns her gaze from one weyrling to the other, and then to the others clustered around, and then further afield to N'ky and Alida. "We'd better look at all of this back at the Weyr. Telavi, if you want to go do that hunting, better go now. Take someone with you." But possibly not K'zin.

"I'll go." K'zin volunteers. Possibly K'zin? He is looking better. Still paleish, but not looking like he's in danger of getting acid on Rasavyth's sensitive hide. Which... itches. Don't think about itching! Too late, K'zin has to reach to scratch the back of his neck. "I want to go," is added with more emphasis.

And of course K'zin's who Telavi looks to, what starts out as just a glance becoming a nod when he speaks up. And then a firmer nod. "So it's sorted, ma'am." If she's disappointed at not getting to see the details of the exchange, it still doesn't stop her from starting to bail, pillowcases and all. At least they'll be secured, and Solith's straps applied, before beginning the trek.

"Sorted," agrees Quinlys, even if she'll give K'zin a dubious glance first. Still, if he's happy to go, she's happy to wave them off, and turn back to their salvaged goods, and the process of getting them gathered up - along with what can be rescued from their campsite - in preparation for an early arrival home.

And the great Search For the Runaway Sailor(s)? Yeah. Nothing. Big ocean is big.

Comments

Devaki (Devaki (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 29 Jun 2013 07:50:14 GMT.

< Sure. Ships get what they want.

There's nothing funny aboat that. Ship just got real.

Aishani (Brieli (talk)) left a comment on Sat, 29 Jun 2013 23:47:19 GMT.

< Interesting...

And great to read. Apparently the weyrlings will be fully trained in search and rescue by graduation.