Weyr Entrance, High Reaches Weyr
Cutting through the Weyr's massive outer flank, the tunnel from the outside spills out into a smooth-cut space where wagons often pull in to unload supplies or take shelter during bad weather. Crates and dollies line one wall, ready to be pressed into service for carting stuff around.
Five other passageways, dimly lit by well-spaced glows, lead deeper into the Weyr; a draft from the centermost hints at the bowl beyond.
Rain falls, the roads are muddy, and no wonder that the whole caravan didn't trek up to the Weyr proper. It's one of the headwoman's senior assistants who has the job of talking with the leader of the skeleton, while the juniormost at not even two Turns in service, Taj, has been released from taking notes and now pokes around the wagons. Not that it's a secretive snooping, especially with the bright orange shirt collar visible above his sweater and his air of belonging. Snooping, it's his job.
And with said leader reassuring the assistant that, not to worry, they've brought their own rations for their brief stay, and adding, a bit more suavely, that they've also come laden with some goods that might prove useful to the Weyr for replenishing its winter-emptied stores - at an honest price, no less - well, some of the other traders and tag-alongs have been left to roam free as well. One of them seems less miserable than most, even with boots and cuffs of pants as soaked with mud and water as everyone else's. Kiri's peering eagerly at the tunnel he assumes will lead to the bowl, only one hand trailing on a wagon to keep him walking straight.
That news meets with favor from the assistant, who assures the man of High Reaches' hospitality, including the use of their baths and an announcement of the wagons' presence at an upcoming meal so people know to look for them and what supplies remain. She asks after the supplies, inquires delicately about whether the men have visited Weyrs before and know how to behave themselves, and generally does her job. It's the other assistant who's junior enough to want to look officious as he stops looking into that wagon and calls, "Hey. Hey, you," at the less-miserable man, breaking into a smile if he turns back. "First time?"
The de facto trader captain offers cautiously that most of the men have been, that they've all been prepped at least, that they welcome baths, and buyers the more. The de facto trader captain gives as charming a smile as he can. And the less-miserable of the men straightens up and blinks wide at the officious-ish junior. Another blink, his shoulders ease, and he offers, "Yeah," and then, "Nice shirt," for greeting.
Trained for hospitality and sales as they both are, there's a lot of smiling going on around the older folk as they continue to settle matters. Not that Tajent isn't smiling, especially as he pops his collar. "Need some color around here. What did you see coming up, mud, mud and more mud?"
When Kiri pulls at that drab canvas-type coat he's got on, there's a plain off-white shirt beneath, damp about the collar. He shows this, by means of puffing chest and tugging at coat collar, to Tajent. "Could use some of that," isn't without something comedic behind it. Coat is patted back into place. Still eyeing up the other young man's threads: "And a dragon, close-up."
"What? I thought you had plenty of mud already." Tajent smirks good-naturedly at him. "We got some weavers here, maybe you can talk one of them into popping that into a dyepot... or two. You saw a dragon, or you want to see a dragon? We have a couple of them hanging around too." He gestures broadly towards the main Weyr. "You should see it summertime, they're about carpeting the place."
Aukiri rolls his eyes, batting a hand dismissively at the air in front of the more colourful guy. "Saw a dragon. Green one." This time, the tug to his coat is to better adjust it around his shoulders, and the freckled one gives it a speculative look. "Never walked on dragon carpet, though." The words are clipped with a smirk, and he starts back on his way toward the bowl entrance. Let the boring old folk talk boring old stuff. "Teeth ever get in the way?"
"Not a purple one, then? Not surprised, those are more rare." Tajent ambles along with Aukiri, slipping his notes into an inner jacket pocket, totally not like he's keeping tabs on the trader. "Teeth, yeah, they make noise when you step on them, hard to sneak around when you're walking on teeth."
"I'd think it'd be the one stepping who makes noise when he walks on teeth." It comes amused as ever, if a bit distracted. Kiri ducks his head a bit, an attempt for a better view out the end of the approaching tunnel. "Seen some in the sky, too. When the clouds and rain don't block them. But only the one up close."
Tajent grins. "That too." It's old hat for him, though he checks up on Aukiri's reactions with interest. He can take all this for granted: the expanse of protective stone, the bustle of people, the smells that might be less familiar to someone who travels outside Weyrs. The tunnel curves just enough that the wind has to work a little harder to get through, while not so much as to get in the way of wagons. "Have dragon dreams when you were a kid, did you? And what's your name anyway, trader? I'm Tajent."
"Flying dreams, maybe," Aukiri offers, grabbing at the edges of his jacket as if to lift the thing to mimic wings - except it's done up, and that really doesn't work at all. He straightens when he lets go of his failed wingspan, checking over his shoulder to be sure none of the caravan are desperately gesturing for his attention (they're not). "I'm not a trader, not really. Just with them for now. Kiri," comes with a sharp turn on his heel and a hand thrust toward Tajent. So much for forward progress.
"Yeah?" Tajent could get sarcastic about it, that wing gesture that doesn't even work, what is that. But though he smirks, it's in a been there sort of way. "All right, not-a-trader." He walks on a step too far, but turns back to cross palms. "So what are you, 'Kiri'? Or am I going to have to guess?"
"What kid doesn't? Flying's what you can't do, right?" Aukiri shrugs, as much for his jacket as for a means of re-setting his posture after that whole shaking-of-hands business is squared away. Tajent is eyed up carefully, and the freckled one tilts his freckled head. "What would you guess, if you know I'm not a trader, not really?"
Tajent shrugs too. He looks Aukiri over, the freckles, the sort-of stubble, the way he's kept twitching his coat and the muddy boots. "Clearly you're Lady Edline's stolen heir, come back to ride a dragon over to reclaim your heritage. Oh, and you take after your dad." He adds, "New coat?"
"Clearly," Kiri follows up, with another, more pointed tug on his coat - the sort that implies some degree of self-ownership, if not superiority - "I'm going to need you to pledge your allegiance to me. Promise not to go yacking my secret out to anyone who comes asking." The look is meant to be imperious, but it doesn't really work, coming more along the lines of comical, and/or gassy. "And here I thought a new coat wouldn't risk giving away my secret bloodline." He kicks a muddy boot at the ground.
"My liege! I swear not to reveal your big bad secret to just anyone who comes wanting to kill you and-slash-or hold you for ransom, until you can be reunited with the Lady your mother once again." Tajent has to add, though, "I actually come from a minehold, but you know, I won't tell if you don't tell. And next time, don't wear Tillek white. It's a big giveaway."
"Well Faranth." Though this time Aukiri doesn't pull at his jacket, he does attempt to look down it, and to his shirt. "Never even thought of that." It's a grin that gets turned up to Tajent, though. "I guess now I really need to get it dyed. Maybe purple, like the rarer," and his mouth stumbles a bit on that word - whose doesn't? "dragons. And my new coat could be all sorts of colours." A testing twirl, that ends with him walking along his original path. "Except yellow."
"Maybe that, yeah." Tajent grins back at him, though he doesn't move onward too. "Listen, Kiri, I've got to get back to work. Have fun looking, don't get lost, and just because a door isn't locked doesn't mean it's okay to go in. And hey, how come not yellow anyway?"
"Promise not to walk in on dragonriders doing what dragonriders do, or anything like that. Don't worry, Tajent." A name brought up with some emphasis, force of being committed to memory. The other young man's last question brings a smirk, though. "Get plenty of yellow curing hides. Last thing I need's for it to turn into some sort of fashion statement." And his fingers are lifted and flicked after the junior assistant, farewell.
"What, me worry? Only for you, Kiri, some things can't be unseen." Tajent smirks back, and though it takes him a moment to get what the other man means by those curing hides, then he laughs and walks back the way he'd come.
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