Logs:Building Fences

From NorCon MUSH
Building Fences
"Why did you come?"
RL Date: 6 May, 2015
Who: Dee, Yarovai
Involves: Fort Weyr
Type: Log
What: Dee and Yarovai build a fence and have small talk.
Where: Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr
When: Day 23, Month 9, Turn 37 (Interval 10)
Mentions: Jemizen/Mentions
OOC Notes: Slightly back-dated - finished the last few poses in gdocs because Late.


Icon dahlia talk.jpg Icon yarovai.png


>---< Feeding Grounds, Fort Weyr >-------------------------------------------<

  The feeding grounds are fenced off from the rest of the Weyr with a high, 
  wooden fence and gate, providing plenty of space for the resident         
  herdbeasts -- bovines, in particular -- to ramble about. The vast majority
  of the animals are for draconic consumption, but some of the more valuable
  varieties are penned away from those designated to be dragon food. Ovines 
  and porcines are a bit more useful to humans than to the dragons that     
  would happily dine on them and are kept further away from the bovines and 
  closer to the stables as a result. There's plenty of grass to feed them,  
  while herders and stablehands regularly add feed to the troughs along the 
  eastern fence. The soil turns to mud as one gets closer to where the area 
  butts up against the lake, which doubles as a watering hole for the       
  animals.                                                                  
                                                                            
  Although the clouds are patchy with glimpses of sky in the early morning, 
  they turn gray but rainless around the time the sun comes up. The overcast
  weather, with a hint of humidity, carries throughout the day with early   
  evening winds starting to break up the cloud-layer.


Among the rudimentary skills taught to Farmcraft apprentices must be some measure of crude construction for Dee looks comfortable enough with hammer in hand, dressed in her work coveralls that accentuate the more masculine sturdiness of her body rather than her feminine curves. The brunette is inside the fence of the feeding ground and doing a job that would be easier with two. In point of fact, she's probably supposed to be waiting for her help to arrive, but that hasn't stopped her from assembling what looks like it will be a temporary construction - a fence that looks like it's going to enclose an area within the permanent fencing. The cloud cover makes for a dreary sort of day, but at least it's not raining and the mud is only sticky where Dee walks, not squishy, so that's something. All the better for getting fences into ground, right?

The good thing about Yarovai is that he can be put quite happily into a variety of situations and he will attempt to get the job done to the best of his abilities. He approaches, dressed practically as he almost always is, but he seems a little uncertain about the fact that there's someone already working out here. "Hi, there," he greets the girl that he probably doesn't even recognize. "Are you who I'm supposed to help out here? Did they leave already?" He must not think she's the person he's looking for.

"Hi Yarovai," Dee greets after hazel gaze has swung up from the boards that will (hopefully) make up the fence; her recognition is immediate and there's a welcoming smile for the fix-it-man. "Yeah, me." She nods her head down to the task at hand, "Need to re-seed some areas here. It may not take, but better to use the seed and try it than to have to start bringing in extra feed for the animals so soon." Apparently, she has no problem explaining to Yarovai why they're doing what they're doing. "The beasts'll eat the seed if we don't protect it while it roots. Or," her smile goes lopsided and rueful, "hopefully roots."

The dark-haired handyman considers the girl who knows his name. There's some recognition there now, at least, but there's probably a reason he doesn't say her name. Her miniature lecture earns some very well-practiced nodding from Yarovai but little of his own opinion on the matter. "So the fence doesn't need to stay here? Just to keep them off to help it grow?" Assuming the rain doesn't watch the seeds away or whatever other things that might happen that are beyond him.

It's just as likely with the comfortable smile that the Southerner is giving the handyman that Dee doesn't realize her one sound name isn't remembered, if it's not. She does seem the type to respond to 'hey you' though with her eager to work demeanor. "Yep, exactly." She looks at the fence then at Yarovai, "Have you made a fence from scratch before? I mean, a temporary one like this one?" She pushes up from her squat and turns a little more toward him, slipping the handle of her hammer into a convenient loop on the thigh of those coveralls.

Yarovai sets his toolbox down nearby, eyeing the mud dubiously before his attention returns to the girl. "I've made lots of fences from scratch. But not so many that're supposed to be temporary." It causes him to look at what she's started for several long, silent moments. This is probably his concentrating face. It's very serious. "Have you made them before?" is asked at some point in there.

"It's just about the same, I think? But easier, probably?" Dee sounds uncertain. "I haven't really made fences that are meant to stay in place, but I had to make fences at one of the cotholds out a ways away from the Weyr not long ago, so I think I remember how." The girl considers the wood a moment seriously and then looks up to the older man with a smile, "Still, I'd best let you take the lead, since you've made lots. So, you just tell me where to put the nails. Or when to hold things." Yarovai, the expert. She seems actually quite serious about it.

"Probably about the same. Just need to be able to take it down without leaving big holes for them to step in and break their legs. That would be bad." No kidding? Yarovai nods, then, and starts to get to work. Being such a simple person does have some benefits. His directions are exceptionally easy to follow and there's basically no ego involved, so he's easy to talk to about anything Dee might think seems like a better idea.

Dee is, in this task anyway, pleased enough to follow Yarovai's instructions and she's a diligent worker, so it shouldn't take them any longer than it ought to build the temporary fence. That is, if Yarovai isn't distracted by Dee's questions. The first of which is, "So, are you from here? Or did you come? It seems like a lot of people have been coming, to help with the storm, or maybe because they didn't like where they came from?" She seems uncertain about the last, but her pursed lips are directed to the wood in hand rather than the man.

The questions might be slightly distracting because it's difficult for Yarovai to focus on more than one thing at a time. But building fences, especially temporary ones, is pretty easy, so his attention isn't quite so hard to shift from the girl to the work and back again. "I came here. Not because of the storms. A bit ago. From Fort Hold."

"Why did you come?" Dee queries curiously. "Is the Hold very much like the Weyr or different? I've only ever been to Nerat and Southern Holds and they... they weren't much like home," she decides this as the safe route fingering the nail she's about to put in place with a handful of efficient taps.

"Work. I wanted to work and earn enough to help my family." Yarovai watches her work as much as he does his. There's a certain quality that must be achieved, after all. "It's... the people are nicer at the Hold." It's probably not true, exactly, but holders do have a way of not always saying what they mean in ways that he hasn't entirely experienced at the Weyr. "But they're nice here, too." Because why not.

"Are they? People are nice at the Weyr I came from. But it's always sunny and beautiful there. Hot and the ocean sparkles like diamonds." Poetic, and yet so much not. Dee's voice holds an edge of longing. It might be why she asks, "Do you miss the Hold? Your family? Are they there?"

"Sounds nice," admits Yarovai, turns his gaze onto the girl for several moments like he might be able to share in the memory even though he can't. So he turns back to the work at hand. "They're at the Hold. And I miss them. I want them to come here, but they won't."

"It is," Dee tells him with an odd combination of fondness and sadness. "Have you ever been to Southern? The Weyr or otherwise?" She rises and shifts from one place to another for better positioning. "I'm sorry," holds genuine sympathy. She hesitates, looking down at the wood before volunteering quietly, "I didn't want to come, but my brother did, so... I did," which is not saying 'had to,' but there's something of that feeling in her tone.

"Oh, no," answers Yarovai quite seriously about Southern. "I've never been away from Fort Hold at all until now." Or if he has, it was too long ago for him to remember. The big guy pauses in his work to look at Dee with a kind smile. "You seem like a good sister."

It's not ego that makes Dee say ruefully, "I am a good sister. If only my brother were as good a brother as I am a sister..." There's no bitterness there, just lifelong fact coming through as fond tease. "It sounds like you're a good brother. Working to support your family." She returns after a moment's thought. "I'm sorry they haven't come here. Are you able to visit ever? Fort Hold isn't so far, is it?" Northern geography is hardly her strong suit.

"There's a woman who'll give me a ride. I could walk or ride one of the runners. Not far, but it takes longer that way." Yarovai has a talent for the obvious. He doesn't comment on whether he's a good brother or not, though. His sisters are still at the Hold, after all, and he's here. "Think we've just about got it."

"Seems so," Dee can agree as she moves in concert with his efforts to get the structure in place. Yarovai may have the talent for recognizing the obvious, but Dee seems to have some sense of that which is not quite so, for she doesn't press him for more about his family, his Hold. Not now. Now she focuses on the work, and soon enough, as Yarovai foretold, they're finished and amicably parting ways.



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