Logs:A Day In The Life
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| RL Date: 8 July, 2008 |
| Who: Paige, P'draig, T'mic2 |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: In which P'draig wakes Paige at dawn and takes her through a series of exercises, morning sweeps and afternoon drills. Drinking at Ista to follow! |
| Where: All over. |
| When: Day 3, Month 13, Turn 16 (Interval 10) |
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| It's dark outside and mostly dark in the Barracks. Quiet. Except for the snoring. And maybe the few who got unlucky enough to pull early kitchen shifts. P'draig moves through the sleep-walkers and the cots with sure steps, not making much noise, squinting at sleeping forms. He pauses between two, looks closer, nope, not the girl he's looking for. And onward. Aha. The brownrider cruises on up to where Paige sleeps and hunkers down, elbows resting atop knees and reaches over to give her a gentle enough shake. "Rise n' shine, sunshine," he tells her, voice low so as not to disturb the others, but loud enough (hopefully) to wake her. Paige's rest looks more fretful than peaceful, brow creased and a low mumble escaping her every now and then. Fortunately, she isn't a snorer - or someone who slugs people in the nose when they try to wake her. Still, she gets out a half-coherent, "Wha?" as someone shakes her a little, freezing as she cracks open one eye, then another - and there's P'draig. "Sir?" Still not quite fully awake, she at least pushes herself into a sitting position. "S'it normal t'get up this early fer riders?" she can't help wondering, even as she works to stifle a yawn that tries to make it out between a few syllables. "Morning," P'draig says with a little grin for that 'Wha?' and he settles back a little more firmly on his heels as she sits. "If you've got dawn sweeps and you're a Weyrlingmaster with Weyrlings, yep." Oh but it's just /wrong/ to be this cheerful this early in the morning. "C'mon, up n' at 'em, get on something comfortable to do work in. First up, exercise out in the Bowl. Too cold to swim in the lake, sadly, but maybe we'll hit Ista later," the brownrider continues in that unseemly chipper manner. "Dawn sweeps, " Paige repeats stupidly, rubbing at bleary eyes and attempting to prod herself into a fuller state of alertness. Taking in his cheery attitude, she finally gives a nod, pushing at some errant pieces of hair as she leans over to try to drag some clothes out of her press without awakening her neighbors. "Ista? Really?" Now that's motivation to get dressed and ready to go. "Uh huh. To look for Thread. Make sure it's not about to fall down and kill everyone. Though not so much that now. It's also looking for message flags, delivering messages, checking the weather, that kind of thing." Paddy stands as Paige wakes up more and he politely gives her room to dress, turning around even. "Yep. I usually end /my/ day at Ista. At least catch a drink with my weyrmate. A lot of riders go somewhere, or chill out right here at Fort over a pint at the end of a long day." "Oh." And Paige absorbs all that as readily as one who's still waking up can, dressing quickly while the brownrider's back is turned. "Er, didn't know y'had a weyrmate, " she says while finishing up, sitting back down to stuff her feet into her boots. "Drinkin's common when the day's done?" He waits until she's done, the telltale thunk of boots a signal and P'draig turns back around. "Yeah. Greenrider at Ista." Beat. "T'mic." And then he laughs and nods. "Has been fairly so during this weird not-a-Pass. You know. Stress and whatnot." He rubs at his chin thoughtfully and tips his head towards the out of doors. "C'mon. Time to get going while the going is good. My sweep is over Boll today, so lucky you, you get to go someplace warm. But it /is/ a morning sweep. Drills are in the afternoon, it's up to you if you want to ride along for that or not." Paige finishes lacing up her boots and finally stands, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail. "Ah. Yeah, I can see how the stress would make it a common way t'end the day." Her way of delicately skirting around mention of the weyrmate is to press on to the other relevant and interesting information - like the sweeps over Boll. "Don't mind it bein' a mornin' sweep. And sure, I'll come along fer drills." It beats cleaning out the stores, at any rate. "Yeah. It was pretty bad at the height of this whole ..." P'draig waves a hand loosely upward. "Whatever. The comet. Bringing Thread back. Because it was unpredictable see. In a normal pass, you can predict when and where it's going to fall. Be ready for it. Constant alert? That's tough." Paddy turns and starts to head back down the lines of cots, still moving and speaking quietly. "All right then, it can be a bit of a wild ride, but that's what safety straps are for." If Paige gulps at the mention of safety straps, she manages to hide it pretty well, nodding as she follows him on out of the barracks. "How did y'all sleep at night?" she has to wonder, "when t'was all irregular and unpredictable?" Almost tripping over her own feet as they near the doorway, she stifles a surprised gasp into a low cough. Hopefully it's enough to keep the other candidates peacefully asleep. That question earns a wry look from P'draig and a quiet: "Badly," as he pushes on out the door with a brief look back at the mostly peaceful Barracks. "Just be glad it's just about done. If you Impress, probably won't have to face it at all. Just clear skies." P'draig brushes aside the curtain and heads back to the Inner Caverns. P'draig has left. Travel to the bowl omitted. Center of the Fort Weyr Bowl(#200RJ$) The Bowl of Fort Weyr, a large, featureless plain surrounded by steep mountain cliffs, stretches out around you. It is approximately oval in shape, about 2700 meters along the long axis running southwest to northeast, and about half that distance across the short axis. You stand in its approximate center. The soil of the bowl is somewhat sandy. To the northwest is the large cavern used for the Weyrling barracks. To the west is the fenced off area where the Weyr's herds are kept, and the lake shore is to the southwest. To the northeast can be seen the ledges for the junior queens and the weyrleaders. The large entrance to the Hatching Grounds can also be seen to the northeast and to the east are the Lower Caverns. Contents: P'draig Jekzith(#9988Jaep$) Arlyth(#9696MOVaes$) Obvious exits: Flight Cave Tunnel Infirmary Living Cavern Weyrling Barracks Northeastern Area Lake Shore Feeding Grounds Paige looks sorry that she asked as they exit the barracks, making the rest of the walk outside in relative silence. She does allow herself a small yawn, however, and as unobtrusive of a stretch as possible. Then, after a while: "I - hope so." Whether she means she hopes to Impress or hopes to see clear skies remains, well, a bit unclear. Maybe both. "All right, so here's the part with the dumb question," P'draig jokes, leading across the Bowl further towards the frozen lake but not quite to it. "Ever done training exercises of any kind before?" He's stretching one arm out, the other hooking the elbow and squinting up at the pre-dawn sky towards where a line of gold is creeping up over the rim of the Bowl. "Trainin' exercises?" repeats the candidate. The confused look says it all. "Can't - say I have, no. Are they partic'larly special exercises that I hafta learn? Do all riders do 'em?" Even while Paige is firing off questions, she can't help but to give an appreciative glance upward; ah, almost-here-dawn. "Mm. Not just riders, guards do too," P'draig explains and swaps arms, rolls his neck from side to side. "Usually I start out with a light jog around the lake to loosen up, then get into the calisthenics. Jumping jacks, like this," he demonstrates a couple, stops, "stretches," bends to touch his toes., "that kind of thing." He grins at that look towards the sky. "So, up for that jog and then we can work through the lot. Best part about being up this early though, probably /is/ seeing the sunrise." "Joggin', jumpin' jacks, stretches, " Paige recounts glibly, watching P'draig's movements carefully before moving to mimic them to get a feel for some of the smaller stretches. "Doesn' sound too bad, actually. If'n it wakes ya up 'nough t'be alert, so much the better." She does nod at that last bit, giving a small sigh. "S'purty. Real - real nice." Finally, she lowers her gaze from the sunrise, straightening slightly. "Alrigh', I think I'm ready." "You got it," P'draig says with a laugh and tips his head towards the lake to lead off that jog. It's entirely possible he's being kind: he doesn't go too fast and doesn't go all the way around the lake. Back into a spot of the Bowl that's clear of snow, it's the exercises next, the Weyrlingmaster taking the time to show and tell again, explaining a little about why each one is important too. "Need to be able to toss firestone see, and climb up a dragon and wash all that hide without getting sore every time." Paige manages the jog relatively well, even if she is pretty out of breath by the time they move on to the exercises. "All - at - once?" she gets out between stretches and switching positions. "How - d'you - get through all this - without - stitches in yer - sides?" Pant, pant. Even though she's clearly new to this idea of a dynamic routine in the mornings, she doesn't look like she isn't enjoying herself - quite the contrary. Laughingly as he turns, "Nope, not all at once. But you might wind up doing all that in a single day when you're a rider," P'draig explains and then drops to touch his toes, comes up slowly to stretch hands up to the sky and then back down again. "After we're through with this, should have time for a bite to eat before we head out." Beat. "Ever been down Boll way?" Paige shakes her head as she follows his movements, lowering her arms carefully. "That'd be further south than I've gone in m'whole life, " she replies. "Heard 'tis nice there, though. Nicer'n it is in the mountains, at least. Like Ista, warm and a good vacation spot." Still, she looks to him for confirmation that it is, indeed, all the things she's heard it to be. "It's very lush, pretty, green. Humid. That's probably the only big problem with places like Boll and Ista. It's hot and wet so you can come outside feeling like you just walked out of the baths sometimes, especially in the summer." He makes a little face about that and straightens. "All right, feeling all limbered up?" a little bit of joking in his voice there. "Let's grab a bite, then hightail it out to Boll, see what we see." "Bit more'n I usually do in the mornin's, " replies she with equal good-humor. "Hot and wet - might almost take that over the snow. Maybe." And Paige grins, having only a small grimace for her legs. "Bite sounds good. Must be purty there, with all that lush and green. From the sky, too, I mean." "Heh, gets the blood flowing," P'draig says with a loose swing of his arms as he leads the way back across the Bowl to get that bite of breakfast. "Ista's weather makes for a lot of sweating and lots of very light clothing, or little of it at all. When I'm down there I live in my shorts, pretty much," he notes wryly, "though it is pretty, both places. Especially when everything is in bloom." Breakfast doesn't take long, some klah some bread and jam, a little hot cereal and Paddy wheedles snacks out of the kitchen workers to take with and then it's back out into the cold to meet a chirpy and cheery Jekzith. "He says 'hello again', though he doesn't really remember you specifically himself. He's using my memories for that," the rider explains as he checks straps, climbs aboard and holds a hand down to her to mount. "Almost all turn round?" Paige has to ask, tucking comfortably into their brief breakfast and mustering up a grin for the cheery brown. "Hullo again t'you too, Jekzith." Cautiously scaling his forelimb up to where P'draig awaits, she gives a relieved 'whew' as she makes it aboard. "They all've short memories like that? Even the bigger'uns?" "All turn around yeah, it's cooler and dryer in the fall and winter, pretty nice then, rest of the turn it's often wet, wet, wet," P'draig states with a little grin. "Mm. His memory is a little better than most, but he only really met you the one time, takes a little while for a person to stick." The Weyrlingmaster gets the safeties on, showing her how they work and then they're off. P'draig climbs up onto Jekzith's neck. P'draig has left. Jekzith(#9988Jae$) Wings, neckridges, brown hide. You're sitting on the back of a brown dragon. Contents: P'draig You climb up onto Jekzith's back. You launch into the air. You climb farther up into the sky over Fort Weyr. You wing your way higher into the sky, soaring over the Fort Valley. Below, Jekzith disappears into Between. Between You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats... Black... Blacker... Blackest! You suddenly emerge... Sky above Southern Boll Hold(#1794RJae) You are flying directly above Southern Boll Hold. Down below, a winding road twists up the side of the volcano towards the Hold Proper. The hold is large, shaped like an "L" and seems to grow right out of the mountain itself. To the northwest, you see the lush, emerald jungles that surround the hold. Miles of dense vegetation extends from one end of the penninsula to the other, broken by rich farmland. The ground is a spray of extraordinary colours from native flora. Toward the northeast and east, you see miles of pure white sand beaches and the sparkling, deep blue waters of the ocean. Type '+lhelp' for local help. Obvious exits: Ramp Fire Heights Jungles Upper Sky Beach Courtyard Below, Jekzith emerges from Between with a blast of cold air! Paige has her eyes scrunched shut as they emerge from between, opening them reluctantly once she's sure that they're safely over Boll. Having exchanged the beauty of the snow-covered peaks for that of the lush vegetation below, she's clearly delighted, a wide grin splitting over her visage as she cranes her neck to peer this way and that. He warns when Jekzith is about to jump but there's just not really any avoiding how yucky Between can feel. The brown dragon coasts in over the lush hold and P'draig has him wheel around, points out some of the salient landmarks below. "Hold, beach, fire heights, deep dark jungles," he quips with a wink, cast over his shoulder. "There's a good place to drink down there actually, called the Lava Lounge." After they've done two circles of the main hold and Jekzith's warbled in a friendly manner to the watchdragon and P'draig waved to the green's rider, they turn south over uninterrupted forest. "Look, rain over that way!" he points to clouds in the distance with the tell-tale grayin beneath. "Thread looks a little like that, where the rain is between the clouds and the treetops only ... well it's different." Paige makes note of each location as he points it out, observing the interaction with the watchrider with no little fascination. As the rider points out rain clouds in the distance, her breath catches a trifle, perhaps with interest at seeing weather phenomena from such a height. A noncommittal, "Ah, " is her response to the explanation about Thread's appearance, but her prolonged look in that direction betrays her train of thought, however momentary it is. "All set back there?" P'draig asks as Jekzith settles into the steady beat of a sweeping dragon and their path cruises out over jungle interspersed with fields. "Keep an eye out on the ground for message flags, 'specially any red ones. Those're emergencies." And on they go as the Bollian sun hikes higher into the sky, warm out here without cloud cover, though they do pass under the occasional puffy white one. "Yeah, I'm fine, " Paige assures him quickly, alternating between using the nearest neckridge and the straps as something to grip onto as she stares hard at the ground whizzing by below. "Red, emergencies. What're the other kinda flags that we might see?" she asks, even while furrowing her brow at a speck of red in the distance. A flag? Not quite; just some reddish brush clumped together. "Good." P'draig describes the rest of the flag colors, Jekzith turning a little to glide a little lower so they can see some of the tucked away cotholds a little better. Still nothing leaping out though at one point, some holders do look up and wave in friendly fashion and Paddy waves back. Paige listens attentively, clinging to the neckridge in front of her as they glide lower. The friendly waves of the holders garner a small smile, then a fuller grin; it's quite likely that they remind her a bit of being at home, despite the very different climate. "So d'you hafta take this mornin' sweep all the time? Do they rotate so's people can switch off and take different routes sometimes?" There's still a grin on P'draig's face as they pull away from that little holding the jungle spreads out below again, life stirring in the treetops, the odd wild firelizard flickering in and out of view. "Rotate," he answers succinctly. "I've got morning today, might not have any tomorrow or afternoon or evening. The rotation's usually set up to be fair." "Tha's good, " Paige replies, visibly relieved. "Figured it had t'be a fair system. Haven't come across much yet that didn' seem fair at the Weyr. I'm mostly a mornin' person, but gettin' up at dawn every day - I dunno how well I'd handle tha' after a while." But it's hard to reflect on the fairness in a rider's life when there's all that greenery and life to goggle and stare at, so absorb she does, expression waxing content. "S'real nice out here. Jus' like they always said." "You get used to it. That and napping when you can," P'draig explains with a laugh. "I've been Weyrlingmaster for over ten turns now and up at dawn is a habit. I wake up at sunrise no matter what unless I'm just so exhausted from something that I've got no oomph left." He looks down below and spots a message flag. "Time to go down and see it from the ground!" And down Jekzith goes, aiming for the clearing. Paige just shakes her head a little, wrestling with the concept of a diurnal awakening at dawn - but then they're swooping down to see a message flag, and the girl's grip on the straps tightens as the flag and clearing grow closer. "How're the messages given?" Never mind that she'll find out shortly as they progress downward. Jekzith lands lightly in the clearing and P'draig unclips them both, slides down, holds a hand up for her again. "Depends, sometimes it's just word of mouth, sometimes a scroll," Paddy explains. This one seems to be a letter needing to be delivered elsewhere on Pern and the brownrider takes the sealed packet, makes some light chat with the holder, introduces Paige even as a candidate. After they've left, the rest of the sweep is routine, just some more weather to report back to T'rien. At the Weyr, there's time for lunch before drills. Paige may not know it, but some of these are a little unorthodox and the moves required might throw her around in the straps a little. After drills, it's finally time to head over to Ista and The Sandbar for an introduction to bartender Kip and the vast array of drinks at the beachside drinking hole. It's evening at the Sandbar, and the place is a bit rowdy tonight. Looks like someone's convinced the Harper to come down and play a set or two. Tables have been shoved over for an impromptu dance floor, and the Harper (much to Kip's chagrin) has set up shop on top of one of them. She sings, her voice carrying clearly, "...Just decent people, warm and kind, and..." but the rest of the verse is lost in the roar of laughter and stomping feet. On the opposite side of the room from the 'stage', close to the beach, a dark-haired greenrider has claimed a booth to himself. The man's grinning widely and bobbing his head to the music, but he makes no move to get up and dance. "... and they've quite the collection of drinks," P'draig is telling the young lady he escorts into The Sandbar with a grin. "And here we -- well goodness, looks like dancing too," the brownrider states with a laugh. "Welcome to the Sandbar, Paige." He scans the room and spots that greenrider and points through the crowd. "That's T'mic over there, shall we?" and he makes to escort the girl around the perimeter of the dancing. Paige is all wide-eyes and shy smiles as she enters with P'draig, expression not unlike that of a child trying to take in everything at once. And there's a lot to take in, to be sure. Music, drinks, dancing, laughter; it's rather overwhelming for a girl who's spent her first two decades tucked happily away in a small, mountain hold. "S'amazin', " she decides, leaning up onto her toes in an attempt to peer through some of the crowd. "Tha's him?" Delighted, she cautiously skirts around the dancers, apparently all eagerness to meet the greenrider. T'mic looks over just then and the grin he'd had is nothing to the grin he now wears. "Paddy!" he calls, the name just audible over the last rowdy verse, and waves an arm as though they hadn't already seen him. He twists about to the bar, waves the arm again, and flashes the hard-working man back there three fingers and a point to his table. After that he eases off his bench and waits, hands extended to the pair. "Heh, loud too," P'draig notes to Paige with a wry grin. "It's not usually this lively, though it can get this way." A nod about T'mic. "Yep, T'mic," Paddy states with a fond, goofy smile already building on his face. "Hey Mic!" he calls over and then they're there and he's making introductions. "Paige, this is T'mic, or Mic, green Aath's rider. Mic, meet Paige from Balen, Candidate for Ciath and Soldreth's clutch." "Nice t'meetcha, T'mic, " beams Paige, swept up quickly enough into the infectious atmosphere. She sticks out a hand, smile still all wide. "I can see why folks'd want t'gather here at the end o'the day. S'real cheerful 'round here. And heaps warmer'n the mountains, o'course." For someone who's completely new to this type of environment, she seems to be taking to it well enough, even if she does give the bar a nervous sort of glance - the look of someone who's never really utilized one before. "/Paige/," the greenrider says appreciatively as he covers her hand with his own. "Well met. Like Paddy said, I'm Mic. That green out there," he jerks a thumb toward the beach without looking, "Who was making eyes at Jekzith is Aath. Have a seat? And yeah, s'loud tonight. Elaurie got talked into playing down here instead of up there." Elaurie - if that's the Harper's name - winds down the foot-stamping song and, waving off cries of, "Another!" takes a long pull from the glass at her feet. Meanwhile the greenrider's sliding back onto the bench, far over against the wall, and grinning invitations to the others. "It's a good place," P'draig replies and gestures for Paige to have a seat first, wherever she chooses around the table. "Aath likes all the guy dragons," he explains further for Paige's benefit, "but Jekzith's one of the ones who puts up with her. I take the blame for that." He grins at Mic and looks over at the cries to the harper, chuckling. "If she does more dancing tunes, we could take a step on the floor if you like Paige." For now though, once she's sat, he's sliding into a spot as well. "You ordered something light, right Mic? Candidate rules and all." Paige slides into a seat with a grin for the people crying out for more music, expression lighting up excitedly. "Could we? Haven' done much dancin' since mama taught me when I was lil, but from what I remember, 'tis a great deal o'fun." Both riders' explanations about Aath just garner a series of little nods - and a question or two, after a bit. Insatiable curiosity. "So Aath's - a real flirtatious dragon?" she asks carefully, smile amused. And as for what's been ordered, she just sits back and fidgets slightly, clearly rather out of her element. Mic rolls his eyes fondly. "If it's male, Aath likes him. And Jekzith's not the -only- one who puts up with her," he adds teasingly to the brownrider. That teasing slips away when he turns back to Paige and sets both his hands, fingers laced, on the table. "Just juice and water. Soon as Paddy said he was bringing a Candidate I talked to Kip." "--She strained a wing," this back to P'draig and hopefully he's not speaking about Paige, "So she's feeling mighty sorry for herself. If Jekzith can charm her out of her sulk, I'd appreciate it." "Did I say he was?" P'draig teases back as he slips an arm casually around T'mic and nods across at Paige. "Of course, be happy to, or I'll bet Mic would take you for a spin too. And plenty of folks to ask besides," the brownrider gestures out at the crowd. "Good night to get a refresher, it's all just friendly, seems like. Nothing formal." A nod about the juice and then he makes a little face for Aath's wing-strain. "Shells, during drills?" And out on the beach, Jekzith is actually doing his level best to be charming and sweet, wing lifted on offer for Aath to cuddle under. Paige relaxes considerably; juice and water, she can manage comfortably. And adhere to candidacy rules, which is also a good thing in her book. "Tha'd be splendid, " she replies to P'draig, expression relieved. "Glad it i'nt formal. Never did too good at tha', and not dressed fer it, 'sides." Shifting her attention to T'mic, she listens for more information about the wing strain, making a little grimace all the while. "If'n s'like us strainin' a muscle, must be real bothersome, " she remarks. "I like dancing," the greenrider assures her. "And it'd be easier with me than with Lord Treetrunk, here." He mimes digging an elbow into P'draig's side, grinning all the while. "Nah, not drills. She forgot where the feeding grounds were, whipped around too fast, and..." His far shoulder jerks, miming the injury. "It's almost exactly like it, yeah. So she's grounded for a sevenday at least. She can do a little straight flying - to our weyr and back, pretty much - and that's it. No drilling. Tell you what, though, she's enjoying the sympathy!" "Great," P'draig replies sunnily to Paige and nods. "Mm, not all that much for formal myself." The nudge from T'mic earns a quiet 'oof' and he snorts softly. "Lord Treetrunk?" And he rolls his eyes a little at the greenrider good-naturedly. "Should I call you Lord Tree/stump/ then?" And there's another sympathetic wince from the brownrider. "Forgot the feeding grounds ... oh Aath," he murmurs lowly and fondly both. Paige glances from one to the other between exchanges, expression alternating between amusement and confusion. "Ouch, pretty uncomfortable, then, " she says, quirking an eyebrow in genuine bewilderment. "Forgot where the feedin' grounds were? Heard dragons got real short memories, but didn' know they were /tha'/ short." Mic teases back, "Only if you're planning on not getting any..." his eyes flick to Paige and he adds hastily, "Uh, hugs." Kip arrives just then with three tall glasses of juice and the greenrider leaps upon his eagerly. Once his whistle is wetted he leaves both hands around the glass, leans across the table to the Candidate. "Well, it's Aath. I can't always tell when she -really- doesn't remember, and when she's just pretending she doesn't to get something. Like with the feeding grounds? She'd been talking to Naolith, so she was probably trying to keep his attention, or she wasn't paying attention, or something." P'draig nudges T'mic back again, though again that fond grin is playing on his lips. The drinks arrive and the brownrider claims one of the glasses with a nod of thanks to Kip, drinks a little while listening to Mic explain. "Focus issues," Paddy quips once he's sipped. "Some dragons are better at using their riders' heads than others to store things for them," he explains further. "Depends on the dragon." Thanking the person bringing the drinks, Paige selects the remaining glass and drinks contentedly for a bit. "Focus issues, " she repeats, frowning thoughtfully. "Are the bigger'uns better at it than the smaller'uns? Does it vary? How long does it take t'tell?" For someone who hasn't even gotten halfway through her beverage yet, she sure knows how to fire off questions. And as for the teasing - well, the holdbred lass busies herself with observing the bar's other patrons while that's going on. But hugs are good, too. T'mic begins, "It's, um," and glances to Paddy for help. "-Generally- the browns and bigger are, well, smarter than the blues and greens. But not always. And it's like P'draig says - some dragons are better at using their riders to remember things. Aath's not one of them. If it doesn't directly concern her, she pretty much doesn't care about it. I'm still surprised she remembers Paddy's name even though it's been what, three turns?" Again he seeks out help from the taller man. "It can vary from dragon to dragon, though yes, typically the larger sizes have better memory retention and the ability to stay the course so to speak. Not all greens are uh ... as uh ... special as Aath." Innocent look from P'draig. He sips from his glass again, nodding. "Mhm. Three turns. Again, I blame Jekzith. They talk even when I'm not around." "Ah, special, " Paige nods, suppressing a grin with some difficulty. "I, uh, I see." Fidgeting a little, she takes a longer drink, taking a little time to peer around the Sandbar again from a seated vantage point. A bluerider from a couple of tables away gives her a wink; taken aback, she quickly drops her gaze to her glass again, a movement that's followed by some laughter from the man's companions. "So - bronzes and the queens must be - even smarter'n better at rememberin' thin's, " she concludes finally, tone still waxing thoughtful. "But there're some smaller'un's who can be decent at rememberin' thin's, too?" "She's not special..." Mic begins and cuts himself off with another mock-elbow to Paddy's side. "Enough, you." The head-dropping and laughter catches his attention; he follows it back to the bluerider and offers a fairly obscene hand-gesture that only has the table rolling. "It depends on the dragon," he says again to Paige, gently. "You sound like you're pretty worried about it. Don't be, huh? They remember what they need to remember, all of them. S'just that 'what they need to remember' is different. Like people. S'just like people." "Oh no, not at all," P'draig continues the trade of banter with T'mic and he too looks after that winking and laughter ringing out. "And don't worry about them either. I think you'll find that there might be a little flirting around here, but no one is going to back you into a corner, Paige. Besides, if anyone bothers you, you've got the both of us to look out for you." His tone is gentle too as he subsides into taking another drink. "So. How about that dance, hm?" "Like people, " Paige repeats, reassured by both riders' words and carefully remaining focused on her drink. "Thanks, both o'ya." Settling back, she finally peeps back over toward the harper and the dancers, expression brightening considerably. "Dance? I s'pose I could give one a whirl. Been a while, " she babbles on, "but I'll give 'er a go." Nervous much? "You two go," the greenrider says, bestowing an encouraging smile on Paige. "I'll watch drinks, and claim the next one from whoever isn't too tired. G'wan." And he makes little shooing motions with his hands, like he's trying to herd very small sheep or brush away crumbs. "A lot like people, only without the memory and in a different shape," P'draig muses and then he nods, tosses back the last of that juice and leans over to land a light kiss on Mic's cheek. Then he's up and offering a hand to Paige. "May I have the honor?" he says formally though he's grinning and there's a twinkle in his eyes. Paige returns T'mic's smile, pushing her glass aside in favor of taking the brownrider's offered hand, grinning back somewhat shyly. "Y'may, " she replies in kind, getting to her feet and casting an anxious, if excited look toward the dancers they'll be soon joining. "Sorry in advance if'n I end up a'steppin' on yer toes, " she adds quickly. "Hopefully it won' last too long 'til I get back into the swing o'thin's." Elaurie's worn people out with another swift, foot-stomping song, and switches now to a slightly slower tune suitable for catching one's breath (without it being a romantically 'slow' song). "Have fun!" Mic says, catching P'draig's hand for just a second before the brownrider's offering it to Paige. "Paige, don't tire him out -too- badly - he's got to get you back to Fort!" As they head off the greenrider shifts to place his back against the wall and prop a foot up on the bench - now he can watch the dance floor and protect their seats all at once. "Don't worry, a harper taught me how to dance a few turns back so I wouldn't step on toes and I'm quick at getting my feet out of the way," P'draig notes to Paige, still with a grin. His fingers curl around hers lightly and he leads the way over to the merriment with a brief backward look for T'mic and a smile. "All right then," Paddy turns the pair of them to the side, one hand to the Candidate's waist, the other still holding her hand. "Guess we should count, huh?" he says merrily and his head bobs as he tries to catch the beat. "One-two, one-two ... ready?" "Whew, s'good, " Paige replies, giving P'draig a nervous little smile as they arrange themselves properly. "Countin's useful, " she laughs, head nodding briefly to get the hang of the beat. "One-two, one-two, " echoes the candidate a few times before nodding. "Yep, think so. Let's give 'er a try!" One-two, one-two goes Elaurie's gitar as her voice sits this one out. The earlier boisterous mood has settled down - the most exuberant heading outside or back to their seats which leaves the dance floor only crowded instead of packed. Couples of all sorts and even a few trios keep the dance hopping, while the relative calm gives Kip and the waitresses a better chance to weave through the people and deliver refreshments. "Okay? Here we go!" And P'draig leads off into the dance. He's a solid dancer, nothing flashy here, but he knows the steps well enough and he's careful about his feet and Paige's, keeping a weather-eye on the others around them. "So when did you say you last got a chance to dance, again?" Paige follows Jekzith's rider as best she can, feet stumbling here and there for the first few turns. Eventually, her movements begin to fall back into a familiar pattern, and she finally looks up from her feet to give P'draig a relieved look. "When I was younger, " she answers, brow furrowing a little. "Was prolly 'bout ten when Ma firs' taught me. Balen's had a few occasions fer dancin' since then, but I've sat out of a few; was either sick or had to look after m'sister, sometimes." "Not so bad then?" P'draig inquires kindly and gently turns them around another couple carefully. "Sick?" he asks next, looking down at her curiously. "And I hear you about sisters. I had to watch mine a fair bit before I came to Fort to Stand." T'mic waves cheerily at the pair as they turn past, then reaches forward to catch a dark-haired serving woman by the sleeve. He probably places another order, for she nods and heads back to the bar with her tray of empty glasses. Looking smug, Mic leans back again with his own and watches the dancing. "Not so bad, " Paige agrees, nodding a little. "Yeah, caught colds easily when I was lil, 'specially with all the snow. Didn' wanna stay inside so much and preferred playin' in it - often longer'n I shoulda done." There's a quick smile for T'mic's wave as they go past. "They tapered off as I got older. Guess it was one o'those growin' up thin's, y'know?" And she shrugs a little; apparently, she's not too worried about it anymore. "Can't remember if'n ya told me - how old're yer sisters?" P'draig lifts his hand from Paige's waist long enough to return that wave, grinning at Mic as the music sweeps them away again. "Ahh, so maybe a warmer climate might be good for you?" He nods about the growing up though. "I've ... a lot of half-siblings," P'draig explains as they wind through another figure of the dance, the music nearing its end though. "My youngest sister just turned eighteen." T'mic beams like he, personally, is responsible for all the music and dancing. On her table the Harper winds up her song and bends to put the gitar away despite the groans and calls for her to continue. "My fingers are going to fall off!" she calls, laughing, and shakes out her hands. "I'm going for a walk, but I'll play again for whoever is here when I get back!" Several hands are there to help her down from her perch, and the Harper gets her instrument safely stowed away before heading out to the beach. Paige considers this, feet working through the next figure with only a slight hesitancy between steps. "Maybe, " she allows, somewhat dubiously. "I dunno, though, seein' as I've never lived in one. All I've known all m'life has been mountain weather." As the harper finishes her song and opts for a walk, the girl gives a little sigh, beaming up at P'draig as the dance nears its end. "Thanks fer the dance. 'Twas real nice t'get a bit back into practice. Y'think Fort'll have a big dance anytime soon?" she asks hopefully. "Clear air in the mountains," P'draig notes with a nod. "I'm from the Reaches myself actually," he provides then furrows his brows a little. "Did I mention that before?" The song ends and Paddy offers her his arm for the walk back to the table. "You're welcome. That was fun," the brownrider replies and then grins. "There'll be dancing at the Hatching Feast for sure and there's things going on at the Hold and the Halls often enough." And that brings them back to Mic and his beaming smile. "Here we are safely back." T'mic sits up straight when the pair reappears, even leans over to brush off sandal-dirt from Paddy's side of the bench. "Welcome back. So much for my plan to dance, huh?" Not that he seems particularly fussed by it. "Looked good out there, you two. And yeah, there's always dancing at the Hatching Feast. I'll dance with you there, Paige? --You too, Paddy." Paige nods briefly as the song ends. "Yeah, y'did. Once, I think." Taking his arm, her beam just lingers on at the possibilities - dancing at the hatching feast. Eating good food at the hatching feast. More dancing at the hatching feast. "Aw, thanks, " says she to the greenrider as they return, adding a cheery, "Yeah, 'course y'can, " for his query. "I'll be sure t'save one fer ya." "Sounds like a plan then, no matter what happens on those Sands, we can all look forward to dancing after," P'draig replies as he moves to hand Paige back into her seat before reclaiming his own. "And that was fun and we can always find a Gather sometime, Mic." So saying, the brownrider slip an arm around the Istan again. "So, more water or juice?" this to Paige again. T'mic beams at Paige like she's just granted him his deepest wish. "I'll hold you to that. -And- you," he adds to the brownrider before snuggling into the other man's arm. "Last time we went to a Gather I don't remember any dancing. Anyway, it'd have to be one of the bigger ones if we want -good- music. Don't you think, Paige?" Paige slides back into her seat, returning T'mic's beam. "Alrighty. I'll be a'lookin' fer ya soon's I make it in and get somethin' t'drink, " she promises, adding to P'draig, "Water, this time, I think." She grins a little, hand rotating her almost empty juice glass. "I dunno, T'mic; haven' been t'one o'the bigger gathers since I was almost too small t'remember. Balen sometimes had a local one fer the nearby cotholds, but they weren' real big, def'nitely smaller'uns. Liked the music at 'em when I was lil, but is it really better at the bigger'uns?" "You got it, Mic," is P'draig's ready reply and he chuckles about that Gather. "No we bought stuff though," he points out, "and made Aath happy." He shrugs about big vs. small. "I dunno, Elaurie over there is good. I leave the picky about music to Remi." He gives Mic's shoulder a squeeze and hops up to get Paige's water himself, sauntering up to the bar to lean on it and make the request. "Balen," the greenrider says, frowning faintly, and again, "Balen. Is that where you're from? Where is it? Somewhere in Fort's sweep area?" He watches Paddy go and leans in to confide to the young woman, "Buying things for Aath pretty much always makes her happy. I should introduce you to her. Flattery'll get you -everywhere- with her, really." Paige chuckles at the idea of Aath being made happy with pretty things, finishing off the last few swallows of juice from the bottom of her glass. "Balen, yep. S'home fer me." And she shakes her head. "Not in Fort's sweep area; we look t'High Reaches. S'tucked away in the mountains." She giggles a bit, even. "Does it, really? Yeah, wouldn' mind meetin' her at all on our way out." And there's Paddy back with the water and a smile and also whatever T'mic ordered earlier for the two of them. "Are you trying to get me drunk, greenrider?" he teases the Istan and winks across the table at Paige. "He's always asking them to mix my stuff double to see if he can get me drunk enough to do silly things." A shake of his head as he settles everything down on the table. "So - figure we have this last drink and I'll take you home, Paige?" T'mic echoes, "High -Reaches-," and looks over to P'draig, rolling his eyes at the tease. "Yes, I told Kip to make your water a double. If you're not weaving... He's bigger'n me," he explains to Paige, "-And- he drinks more. So by the time I'm standing on tables and singing, he's just got a sloppy smile. --Oh, Paddy. Would you and Jekzith mind escorting us back to the weyr? She's starting to get pouty, and I'm not sure I trust that wing. It'd only be a few minutes," he promises Paige. "Ten, fifteen tops. And then he'd be back, take you back to Fort." "Oh dear, a double water, " Paige says with mock horror. "Dunno if'n he'll make it through one o'those." There's a grateful smile for P'draig as he brings her water back to the table, hands curling loosely about the cold glass. "Sure, sounds fine, " she answers to both, smiling. "Sure was nice meetin' ya, T'mic. See ya when y'come t'Fort." "Kip makes a mean double water," the greenrider agrees, grinning, and nudges at the brownrider until both of them are standing. "All right, if you need anything just ask Kip or Brianka," he nods to the dark-haired serving woman currently behind the bar. "Was nice meeting you too, Paige. Have a safe trip back to Fort." He and P'draig hurry out of the bar and across the sand to where Jekzith is cuddling a dark green. It takes them a little to pull the pair apart, and when the green heads into the air she is favoring her right wing. As promised, it's less than a quarter-hour later before the Weyrlingmaster returns alone to return Paige to Fort safe and sound. |
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