Hidden Cove, Ista Island
Ista Island is renowned for its lush, subtropical jungles and hidden gems - as well as its many, many coves, lagoons, and other hidden places of beauty. Close to Red Sands Hold, along the uppermost curve of the island, a cove lies hidden amidst the overgrown vegetation. It is marked by a dragon-sized boulder a hundred meters out that shields the entrance from casual observation. Thick foliage and tall trees hedge the shoreline, staggered along the crescent-shaped shoreline. Black sand meets crystalline waters and, further out, Big Bay's water is brilliantly blue-green and glass-like - even in the stormiest of weather. Huge flowers the size of a man's fist blossom in the dense shrubbery, popping up in lurid and exotic hues of orange and red, purple and yellow. Their intoxicatingly heady fragrance wafts over the beach on the breeze and mingles perfectly with the tangy smell of salty air.
Edyis receives a letter in the evening. It comes from a harried laundress who hands it off without preamble. In a definitively well-practice script:
Lakeshore. Just after breakfast. Meet me there if you want some sun.
Signed, simply, with an elaborate F.
Just after breakfast, in the morning of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, should Edyis follow the note's description and meet Farideh at the lakeshore, she would find an assembled bluerider at the ready. His dragon is laden down with a new bundles, the riding straps in place and extra gear set to the side in preparation for travel. Farideh herself is chatting amiably with said bluerider, dressed in a simple red cotton dress that covers up her sandaled feet; various shades of thread blend in a pleasant embroidery design down the front, and its sleeves are cut short, at an angle to allow as much arm movement and breathing room as possible. Her hair is unbound today and her overall demeanor is happy, given her bubbly laughter to whatever the dragonrider has just said.
High Reaches weather has determined the young scribe's attire, a loose fitted sweater that hangs past her hips, and trousers, though she does carry a bag at her side, which might have attire for warmer weather held inside. Long fingers splay in greeting as she spies the blue and Farideh. "You have very nice handwriting." Perhaps not the most normal greeting one would expect but probably typical of the darker skinned woman. "Thank you for the invitation Farideh."
A'ban is the first to notice the newest arrival of their band of travelers. His grin is stilted, but he gives the two girls space while he finishes adjusting some straps here and there. Farideh dips her head in acknowledgement of the compliment, flashing her teeth in a smile. "Thank you, Edyis, I have enough turns of practicing tracing letters for hours that I ought to." She moves to link her arm through the scribe's, if the scribe allows, and motions to the stocky blue dragon with one hand. "This weather is for the dragons. I can't stand it. Everyone stays inside and sits by the fire and blah blah blah. Ista is perfectly warm this time of turn. Have you been? Where I have in mind is a little out of the way, but lovely all the same."
Dark eyes are at once intently apprising of the bluerider, checking for the shoulder knot discretely as an afterthought. There's a snort of laughter about the weather but she smiles warm enough all the same. "Typical Reaches." She states, finally before rolling her shoulders, "Been good, mostly busy but good none the less. It will be nice to take a day and just soak up the sunshine."
With the last details secured, the bluerider is right there to hand out the riding gear to each of the women. "I thought the summer would last longer," Farideh says woefully, though she unquestioningly takes the helmet and goggles. She disentangles herself from Edyis long enough to tuck her hair in and fasten the goggles, at which point she is happy to let A'ban assist her up onto the blue's neckridges. All the while, she's throwing over her shoulder, "Won't it? We deserve it sometimes. They just don't appreciate us the way they should." A'ban snorts at that, but remains quiet as he lends a hand to help Edyis up as well.
Smirking she accepts the hand up, and manages the straps on her own, she's getting better and better at it, it would seem as it only takes a few moderately clumsy attempts to secure herself in. She opts for the riding jacket and glasses but the helmet is tucked in with the belt straps. If A'ban protests he'll get a very pointed look. "Not really, it's practically the shortest season. Still, it's better in a weyr than the holds. You get to take trips like this. Thank you - I'm sorry I don't recognize you." She calls over to the bluerider.
Being high up and on dragon back does things for Farideh - or, stops her from chattering on endlessly as she is prone to do. She is busy clinging to the blue for dear life while Edyis and A'ban have a nice little chat without words. He will give her that look and frown in response to hers. "A'ban, Icicle Wing. Helps any?" he asks without really expecting an answer. There is no more fanfare or words spared, as the blue lifts up and up, higher and higher, until they're suspended well over the Weyr. Between is a cold rush and just as quickly, they are high above Ista Island, circling a dense tangle of trees along the coastline. Farideh is still not saying a word, and A'ban is too caught up in being disapproving to contribute much. They descended swiftly, and rather than in the wilds of Ista, they make it to a secluded cove bordered in trees and rocks. A'ban slips down first after unbuckling the straps and waits for the two girls to make their way down, so he can help them to the black-sand beach.
A few turns ago, she'd likely have cowered under that look. She holds firm and grins as they take off, though it's only after they emerge from between and are firmly on the ground that the dark eyed girl deigns to speak grinning from ear to ear as she shrugs out of the jacket, and straps, and then the blouse to reveal a southern styled swimming suit top. The kind that would probably be considered down right conservative by Istan standards, though it does leave most of her back and shoulders open to the sun. "You'll get used to it, flying I mean. " Away goes the boots and pants, though she pulls out a cotton sarong dyed in Monacoan colors, which she ties about her hips and a pair of sandals, tucking her winter gear into her bag. "It's one of those things I've learned to love about Reaches, Dragonfolk too. Surly as they are." She tosses with a wry smile at A'ban, losing her braid and tying it back into a neat ponytail, tied just below the base of her neck.
A'ban starts unstrapping the bundles attached to the straps and throwing them carelessly on the sand, while Farideh regains her balance on somewhat-solid ground. There is sun and sand and surf surrounding them, a fact which undoubtedly delights the laundress, as she throws her arms wide and smiles from ear to ear. "Just lovely." She casts a curious glance over one shoulder, taking in Edyis' beach attire, but rather than strip down to her own, she'll double back to open the bundles the bluerider tossed. One holds a cobbled together lunch of sorts: meatrolls, fruit, and a waterskin. Another holds a large quilt. And the last, two long sticks and a thinner blanket. It is the last bundle that she sees about setting up. She jabs the sticks in the ground like a triangle, then drapes the blanket overtop in a rudimentary shelter. Sure, it's liable to crumble beneath a simple breeze, but is will do for now. A'ban gives both women a cautious stare and with a sigh, remounts and of he goes, leaving the scribe and laundress to their day of beach fun. "I didn't bring too much," she points out, as she tucks the lunch in the shade provided by the 'tent' she pitched, and then lays out the quilt next to it. "What do you think?" As she stands back to survey her own handiwork.
Someone staring might notice that the scribe has a number of fading bruises of varying age probably the result of a fall or being on the wrong end of a firestone toss. "I think you are positively a marvel. I did bring wine. Tillekian but it's very light and sweet." The girl laughs, watching the blue depart, tossing her bag under the shelter. "Really, this is - perfect. " With a contented sigh, she stretches lazily.
Lucky for Edyis, Farideh is quite oblivious to most things. She either doesn't notice or doesn't think to comment - for the moment. It is with a satisfied sigh that she peels off her own dress, underneath which she's wearing her own variant on a swimming suit with a length of simply patterned fabric tied around her hips. She flops down on her stomach on top of the quilt and buries her face in her folded arms; relaxation is not hard reached. "Tillekian? Fabulous. Benden can be too much sometimes. Light and sweet for days like these," she sighs, turning her face so she can look at Edyis. "Come, tell me what you've been up to. I get so bored listening to same stupid stories in the laundry. H'kon knocked up some greenrider, Fayla's baby's father is an asshole, K'del is running the Weyr into ruin. Blah blah blah blah." There is even a complementary eye roll for dramatic effect.
Edyis laughs at the examples, "You must hear everything working in the laundry. Pretty sure I didn't know most of that. Can't say I've been any more entertaining, Telavi has me occasionally helping the weyrlings train, oh! You remember that one Cromese kid Weylaughn? The one who has more marks than sense. I happened to walk in on him and a green rider in the resident barracks in a very compromising situation, and it wasn't a female green rider either." The eyebrow wiggle comes, with a giggle. "Other than that it's been catching up with people and work mostly. "
"I don't trust half of it. They told me the other day that there's a dragonrider up High Reaches Hold's way that catches people after dark and throws them between. As if a Lord Devaki would even entertain something that ridiculous." Farideh shakes her head as best she can given its pillowed upon her two arms. She has her cheek rested on a forearm, propped there, so she can see Edyis from a better angle. Talk of Weylaughn causes a crease to form between her brows. "Him? That guy? With.. another guy? Are you sure? He seems like one of those straight-laced, don't step off the well-traveled path sort of guys. Thinks he's some heir of Crom too or something," she says flippantly, and looks surprised, her mouth forming a small 'o', "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that." Hazel eyes shift from Edyis to closed. "Nope, never said it." Denial is the best resort, always.
"I don't think it's much of a secret. He seems to tell anyone who will listen, if he thinks it will help his cause. Yes, but probably it wasn't what it looked like. It just really looked like something else you know?" Leaning back she props herself with her fingers wriggling in the sand. "He isn't terrible drinking company, just - arrogant. Aughan may be many things, but he wouldn't leave a bastard in the wind to screw with his plans." Finally Edyis seems to decide to add to the list of current events. "My stepmother not long ago - She came to the Weyr."
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