Logs:Interrogations and Implications
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| RL Date: 25 April, 2015 |
| Who: Edyis, Farideh, Keysi, Quinlys, R'van, Telavi |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Quinlys checks in on weyrlings with varied (but mostly less than spectacular) success. |
| Where: Weyrling Training Cavern, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 18, Month 8, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: H'kon/Mentions, Rone/Mentions, Ysaera/Mentions |
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| As of today, it has been three whole sevens since the hatching; doesn't time fly! Routines are definitely settling down in the barracks, though Quinlys and her staff do keep adding on new things-- things like the daily calisthenics that take place out in the bowl-- to keep things interesting. This afternoon, post-lectures, Quinlys is doing rounds: checking in on different pairs, performing haircuts, and answering questions. She's cheerful enough; so too is Olveraeth, who stands sentinel at the mouth of the massive training cavern. From the barracks, the smallest brown- usually Keysi's shadow- arrives first, running with long strided albeit still with dragonet clumsiness. He makes it maybe a dragonlength into the training cavern before pivoting mid stride, and staring at the doorway he'd just come through. Keysi is through shortly after, arms stretching above her head as if the pair had just woken from a brief nap. They've been in the bowl a great deal, the weyrlingmaster is likely to have noted. In general, in the time Nei hasn't been complaining wholly impatiently about only getting to watch the calisthenics, he's been persistently pushing His faster, harder, to be better, so a nap isn't entirely uncalled for. « Come, we start again. » The brown announces, the edge of increased pressure in his voice like multiple drips of water aggitating the surface of his pool into unrecognizable colors, patterns. "G'day, ma'am." Is said past her dragon to Quinlys. "Afternoon, Keysi," says Quinlys, glancing up from the green pair with whom she's been exchanging a few quiet words. She straightens, stretching out her muscles and popping her spine as she does so, gaze sliding from Keysi to her brown, and then back again. "He's not pushing you too hard is he?" she wonders. "I've noticed you've been working hard." She doesn't make it sound as though she disapproves, though the question in her voice is firm. "It is not I that I worry about." Keysi answers evenly, receiving an irritated rumbling nigh close to a growl for her response. Neianth stalks closer as Keysi stops a couple strides from the weyrlingmaster, and circles His in one, two, three tight circles until he's curled his tail and then the rest of himself around her legs, altogether preventing further motion. The irritation of Neianth is reflected in the face of the girl too, though muted as little more than a wrinkle on her brow. "His intensity is difficult." Is admitted, her tone a bit tight, "Every day he thinks he can do more than he should. And he's already going before I can stop him." And more than she can, too. Not long after Keysi and Neianth, Farideh and Roszadyth come through the doors leading to all of the weyrling cots and couches, though from the collection of hides and parchment under her the brunette's arm, it's obvious she hasn't had the joy of a nap. She walks with her head down and almost walks into the brown pair, stopped only by the gold's intervention. "Oh," as her eyes lift, but they soon flick past the taller girl to the bluerider, and she purposefully looks away. "Oh." Roszadyth stops when Farideh stops, contentedly whirling eyes fixed on the small brown with obvious interest. Quinlys', "Mmm," is quiet. "It'll be your job to keep him from doing too much," she warns. "To work out how to stop him. He's a baby. He doesn't know or understand his limits; but he has them." She studies the brown, plainly noting that shared irritation, although she doesn't comment on it specifically. "You can ask for help, though," she adds, and if a flick of that gaze implies she's caught sight of Farideh-- or heard that 'oh'-- and is now including the other weyrling in her comment, well. Why not? Keysi's attention shifts to Farideh, though her ability to step out of her way is utterly limited by the inability to move her legs. The crescent-touched face of the small brown rubs his head, eye-ridge first, against Key's pants to alleviate an itch before focusing on his golden sister. The itch is reflected and would be missed by uninformed eyes as the (once?)healer idly scratches her forehead. "Farideh." Is her greeting, though she leaves out more words given the deviation of Fari's gaze from Quinlys. "I know." Clipped, in response to the first. But she takes a forced breath, a calming one for either or both of them, "The only way I've found so far is to run myself until we're both exhausted." And that's certainly not sustainable. Neianth rumbles, discontent obvious but nudged to the backburner in place of electing to project his weighty, rippling greeting to Roszadyth. There is sympathy in the hazel eyes that lift, to study Keysi's face. "Keysi," Farideh returns, only looking down when Roszadyth leans her ponderously round belly against her calf. "That sounds-- unpleasant." That's about the running, presumably. "Doesn't he have something he enjoys that can distract him?" But she looks uncomfortable even voicing that question, and shifts on her feet, pulling the items she's carrying closer against her chest, curious gaze skipping back to Quinlys; to await her more legitimate response. A sudden soft graze, a spread of warmth, is Roszadyth's affectionate greeting to both brown and blue dragons. (To Neianth and Olveraeth from Roszadyth) "One of the good things about weyrlinghood is that it is exhausting; it won't be long before we'll be involving them in our exercises, and that'll help some, I think." Quinlys turns her gaze from one weyrling to the other, and then back, focusing more intently upon Neianth. "But the distraction idea is a good one. And you can learn how to be firm; we'll be working on that in classes, too. Make sure they remember that, for now, you are in charge. At worst, you get Olveraeth, or one of the other weyrlingmaster dragons, to step in. You and he are not the same entity, remember." To nearby dragons, Olveraeth's starscape stretches out, to infinity and beyond; he's pleased by Roszadyth's greeting, answering it in kind. « Good afternoon to you both, » he says, in that faintly nasal, somewhat peculiar voice of his. « You are both well, I hope. » "That is what he enjoys." Keysi replies to her fellow weyrling, quieter in volume but with her even tone that has, since the hatching, been a concious effort. She doesn't not seem displeased by this fact, however, if it's possible to read into her much at all. "It is not a bad thing that he pushes me." The girl corrects, perhaps late into the topic as a whole, "And it is not that I don't want him to. Just.." And she trails off, perhaps just uncertain of how to word her concerns now that's the pressure to final bring it up. "I spoke with H'kon of Arekoth." She says, as if that explains where she's going with this. Her hand falls to the brown's head to rub between lighter-accented head knobs. Evasive, perhaps, of the weyrlingmaster's last statement as she looks down to Neianth. The still watery reflection is already aggitated in rippling rings from all directions, obscurring and somewhat unpleasant. Discontent is evident, but certain no outright anger and he is at least pleasant in his greeting to them both, perhaps moreso at Roszadyth's warmth « There is much to do. » Is his return to Olveraeth, pleased that there is and yet the feeling of impatience lingers like a bad taste in the mouth. (To Roszadyth and Olveraeth from Neianth) "How soon?" Farideh poses to Quinlys, her eyebrows drawing together, but her attention quickly returns to Keysi, even if she's largely silent on the subject. "But if it's what he likes--" She shifts on her feet again, bumping into Roszadyth's portly bulk, and scrunches up her nose. "It seems like a waste to keep him-- from--" But her inevitably comes to a halt, because weyrling dragons aren't her forte, and they are Quinlys'; her cheeks even pinken a bit. Quinlys, at least, doesn't seem bothered by Farideh's contributions-- she even nods, once, in the younger woman's direction. "In another seven or two," is her answer to that question, though her attention is quick to focus back on Keysi. "There's nothing wrong with working hard," she says. "But I imagine you're referring to Arekoth's injury, Keysi?" She doesn't wait for a response. "And that's the key thing: there's a line where working hard becomes dangerous. "Talking to H'kon's not a bad idea, in any case. He can probably give you some advice on dealing with... that kind of a strong will." « Very well, » Olveraeth assures Roszadyth, contentedly. It is Neianth's impatience, however, that draws his attention, those stars stretching out further and further as he considers. « There is always much to do, » he agrees. « But there is time to do it in. Patience, young Neianth. All things have a time. » (To Neianth and Roszadyth from Olveraeth) "Not soon enough." Is an attempt to be a little lighter on the subject, given Farideh's question of their dragons joining them. But, more serious comes, "Aye." Keysi answers to Quinlys, the stroke of her thumb on Neianth's eye ridge hesitating. "He explained how it happend." Well, with the detail that H'kon does. "I'd thought about that sort of thing in passing, but I just didn't-" a strained pause, "-It wasn't real until seeing him." As the small brown uncurls himself, the girl shifts herself in turn. There was so much need to talk about this, and yet now that she has, the anxiety that she doesn't display but her dragon whose eyes whirl a little faster now does. "I will work on it." Her stern grey eyes turn away as if with intention to go elsewhere, though she doesn't move yet. A low rumbling stays at her heels where the brown doesn't stray far from. A reflection of Roszadyth's breeze swirls towards her, warm and with the hint of the touch of wayward blossom petals. But the winds remain not entirely calm, « Always. » Is Neianth's simple answer to his golden sister. A relatively still silence persists, though the weightiness, the vastness of his conciousness still remains « But the more that is done now, the more can be done later. The more can be achieved in total. » (To Olveraeth and Roszadyth from Neianth) At one point, Farideh opens her mouth to say something, but she closes it instead and stays silent throughout their conversation, simply listening and looking between the two women. She is standing nearby Keysi, Roszadyth leaning against her legs, while Keysi is standing with nearby Quinlys, and those two are having a talk about willpower of dragons in the wake of everyday lectures. "Mm," says Quinlys. "I know. Do your best, Keysi, and don't hesitate to ask for help. That's what we're here for." It looks, for a moment, as though she's about to say something else-- perhaps to encourage the brownriding weyrling to stay, though it isn't as if she's actually left yet-- but for whatever reason, she stops. Giving Farideh a side-long glance she wonders, "And how are you going?" A giddy, girlish bubble of laughter erupts, her delight with the petals quite obvious, more than the stars, more than the water. Her sunlight burns brighter, warmer, where it touches. Their debate is not hers, but she is there, patient and supportive, should there be a need. (To Olveraeth, Neianth, and Vadevjiath from Roszadyth) « Until, » points out the blue, « You do too much, and all your progress is lost. Slow and steady; that's the key. The only way forward. » (To Roszadyth, Neianth, and Vadevjiath from Olveraeth) "Yeah." Is all Keysi says, intense, narrowed gaze angled downwards. Fingers curl into fists a moment, tempering herself, tempering Neianth. The quickened whirling of his eyes slows as they stare at each other, lost in that quirky glazed-over way of dragonriders as a conversation passes between them. And she'd let the subject extinguish itself with that, glancing briefly at Farideh for her answer as Quinlys appropriately turns attention to her instead. R'van comes first, with Vadevjiath prowling behind. Freshly fed, bathed, and oiled, the bronze looks just a little sleepy, but he's clearly willing to make himself stay up a little more if it means following with R'van. Whatever the conversation, the rider doesn't quite catch, though there's a lift of his brows, a glance curious between Keysi and Neianth for their demeanor. A response is not of collected words, but of the loss of the serenity of the breeze to be confused and aggitated by the rippling again- rapid and entirely obscurring until there's nothing identifiable except his silent presence, which feel perhaps static, immobile despite the better-aged words of wisdom. (To Olveraeth, Roszadyth, and Vadevjiath from Neianth) It's all good and well when the conversation doesn't revolve around her own ups and downs over the past three sevendays, but when Quinlys' focus shifts, Farideh looks immediately guilty. "I'm-- I'm fine. Just fine. We're-- fine." But lucky R'van, he's suddenly there, with that strong willed bronze of his, and she'll happily pass along the bluerider's concern from herself and Keysi. "R'van! Quinlys was just asking how we're all doing," she says, a little forced, tucking her files even closer. Quinlys is taking mental notes; that much is plain. On Keysi, and now on Farideh, too, given that answer-- an answer she greets with a raised eyebrow that is wholly unconvinced. Still, she's equally interested in R'van's answer, and turns those blue eyes on him, too, dark-red brows raised: and him? Keysi notices R'van's entrance late, though eventually does turn grey eyes up to him with a brief nod. They've taken a couple of steps away at this point, distancing. Though not as deflecting as Farideh. Still, she's quiet, more curious of answers than willing to give her input any longer. Idle motions are soothing ones as she falls smoothly into a kneel, hand on brown's lighter head. "Was she," answers R'van, his tone droll: he knows when he's being used as excuse. He doesn't seem to mind, at least, "I'm well, weyrlingmaster. Vadevjiath, too." The bronze is moving to get more underfoot, taking up a position watching from at his rider's side. "I'm assuming the rest of us likewise, then?" "Just-- lovely." Farideh looks pleased by R'van's participation in her ruse, but is too busy focusing on her likely getaway to do more than smile politely. "I should-- things to do-- records to read," and she's nodding, to each, before moving away, to a secluded corner, where she can do whatever it is she's set her mind to; not answering Quinlys' questions evidently. Roszadyth is slower to follow, though follow she does, after longing stares at her brothers. This time, Farideh may get away with it; it probably won't always be like that. Certainly, Quinlys' gaze follows the dark-haired weyrling with an accusatory and dubious glint; mild frustration is visible in her expression as she turns her attention back on the two remaining weyrlings. "I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," she says, managing to keep her voice neutrally calm. "I understand Vadevjiath was asking questions about crafts, not long back." Her brows have raised, and her gaze flicks fairly promptly to include Keysi in this topic, too. "Sure." Keysi responds for R'van's sake, though evidently is set in a mood that won't subside. Stubborn on both sides of the coin, the brown dragon has already risen, stalking a few paces after the pair that leaves before returning to be amidst the girl's legs once again. Neianth shoves his head against her leg again, though this time not for an itch but as a persistence. It is the crafts topic that will at least keep her here, to the brown's dismay. "You'll be able to continue some smith work?" From a studying eye on Quinlys, she offers a brief look to R'van to monitor little more than his expressions. "Was he," R'van echoes himself without looking down at the dragon. Vadevjiath doesn't quite radiate smugness, but it's a near thing. "I'm sorry if he was intrusive. He's very--focused, when he has an interest," R'van tells Quinlys a beat later, though his gaze slides to Keysi after. He shrugs in answer to that: who can know such things? Vadevjiath. Vadevjiath can, if the determined tides of his mind, shared with Olveraeth and Neianth, are anything to go by. Poor Neianth. Quinlys has no time for sympathy; she's distracted, now, perhaps especially because this topic draws more responsiveness than the previous one. Olveraeth, though, sprinkles stars towards the two young dragons, guiding tides as he does so. "Oh, it's nothing to apologise about. Olveraeth was pleased; it's not a bad thing, to think ahead. I don't know if we've had any Smiths formally continue their work, though I believe K'zin-- well, I think he may use the facilities on occasion." She shrugs; she's not sure. "Anyway, it's something to consider, further down the track. Just don't let it distract you now." "Is it something you support to pursue?" Keysi's question is pointedly at Quinlys, though at this point she's subdued, her intensity quited- though certainly not gone- and there's obviously plenty of energy being funneled in the direction of the impatient, strong-headed dragon. At all times. "Given the right drive, and priorities." She adds, as if it's necessary to do so. "Given those," R'van agreees with a tip of his head toward Keysi. He regards Quinlys with curiosity, too, though he's got a better poker face than his dragon does yet: he manages to not sound pushy about the idea, something Vadevjiath just hasn't mastered. "You were... healer, before, yes?" he adds to Keysi, after a beat. "Us, and Laine. I don't think I know of any other former crafters among us, unless I'm just forgetting someone offhand." "Ysaera," puts in Quinlys, "was a Seacrafter, I believe. But that's a much more difficult craft to continue with." Her tone is faintly amused for that, as if she can't possibly imagine a scenario in which it would be possible to keep up with that particular craft. "But yes-- I do. We train you all to fight thread, even though you'll never need to, because those skills need to be maintained. But broadening training to acknowledge that things are different, now? That's always been a priority of mine. You're of extra value to the Weyr when you bring additional skills." They were just passing through, at least if one were to judge by the bouncing 'run' of Akluseth as he careens through the training cavern ahead of Edyis. At least he is getting better about running into people and things. Edyis, on the other hand, stops near Keysi and mostly listens rather than speaking herself. To R'van, there's a small nod. "Aye, and I enjoyed it." Keysi offers, still subdued in general demeanor, "Quite some time ago, K'del mentioned that one rider," she quiets as she loses the name, but continues on after a beat, "Was a healer before and wished to do more given wings, not just be in the infirmary anymore. He mentioned search and rescue." Neianth's attention is notably drawn by this- perhaps something she's not touched on in their time quite yet. Surprising, perhaps. "I didn't really think much on it." Until now, really. And that was said for their and her dragon's benefit given his intense scrutiny from below. The though of seacrafting while riding brings about at least the beginnings of an easing. For just an instant, there's an arch of Vadevjiath's neck, that hunch of his shoulders that betrays trouble in the making when Akluseth gets too close: the small bronze is already known for protecting what's his--even if the other dragon is no threat at all to R'van. Fortunately, the former smith is ready, leaning just a little against Vadevjiath to nudge him out of it, from reactive to merely watchful. "I see," R'van tells Quinlys then; he makes his tone as bland as possible, which somehow doesn't really help its dry edge. "I'm sure we're pleased to be so valuable to you." Although Quinlys is quick to nod approvingly in answer to Keysi-- and nod, vaguely, in greeting to Edyis-- it's R'van's dry comment that draws the most of her attention, those red brows raising. "I would have thought it would be a good thing, to have skills of value. To have the potential to be more than just another warm body on a dragon to perform drills and sweeps. But perhaps I'm seeing things entirely the wrong way. Keysi," and now she turns her attention back towards the healer, "is definitely on to something. Search and rescue is an excellent opportunity for a once-healer. You'll want to pay attention to Snowdrift; that's much of what they do." Akluseth? He's completely unbothered by the hunching though his lifemate's halt has him rounding back to knock the bulk of his shoulders against her legs, forcing the former scribe to take one step back. Curt nods are given in return for greetings. "Already setting your eyes on a wing?" Is asked in general of the other two weyrlings. Keysi searches R'van at his comment, though of how she feels given it, is neither obvious nor likely all that important. Quinly's sudden compliment catches her off-guard, and her grey eyes drift to Edyis who had- amidst her train of thought- joined her. "I would like to at least learn what's involved. But it seems challenging." Which is the most important thing, apparently. "Ed." A warmer greeting, if her neutral expression can be judged so. "Have you?" Is returned to the other brown weyrlingrider. Neianth rumbles at Akluseth, a swipe of white talons- playful more than anything- his idea of a 'wave'. "I would say," R'van notes after a moment, his shoulders lifting slightly, "'being useful' isn't the reason most of us do what we do. But perhaps that's just myself. Others may feel differently." He slants a look at Keysi, as though looking for some opinion there. Finding little, though, he glances instead to Edyis. "Hardly. We're very focused on our training currentlty. One step at a time, after all." "Most of us," starts Quinlys' opinion, "prefer to have a purpose in life, I find. Something productive to do." If her tone is a little cool, the glance she aims at R'van remains mostly neutral. Still, she's crossed her arms beneath her breasts in a way that looks ever so slightly defensive. "It's certainly too early to think too much about wings, but it doesn't hurt to keep possibilities in mind. Of course, the Weyrleader is the one who ultimately makes the decisions, so." "That would be the logical way to go about it," Edyis answers Rafe, with the faintest suggestion of a smile peaking at the edges of her mouth. "Savannah," Keysi's question requires little thought or hesitation on the young woman's part. "Though it is far too early to tell if they would have me or not." Quinlys's statements draw dark eyes to the weyrling master; lips pursed thoughtfully. "There is nothing wrong with being useful, though there is a danger in thinking of people as tools only for the greater good. That kind of thinking lands you with people like Rone. In the end, perhaps a balance?" She muses aloud. Akluseth rumbles in return at Neianth, his tail twitch, twitch, twitching away. Almost as though the only thing that is halting more is the fact that Edyis has her hand pressed to his skull, scratching at the brown's jawline to distract him. "Useful. Productive. Giving something meaningful to the larger whole. Isn't that what a dragonrider is supposed to be?" Keysi finally does speak up in regards to R'van's- or, more perhaps, Quinlys'- choice of words. "Burning thread out of the sky or running a sweep to find-" She fishes for something, anything frivilous to make her point, "-a rare fruit. They do things to serve the Weyr. Pern." Whatever. Apparently she does, at least, return with that intensity locked on something. The brown at her feet shifts impatiently. The impatience may be nothing new, but the vexed twitch of his blackened wings is, mirroring his riders flare of 'caring' about this in particular. The darker, littler brown is persistent towards Akluseth, however, baring his teeth. Taunting. A tip of his head acknowledges, concedes to the weyrlingmaster's words without dispute this time. He leaves the others to argue the points, while he settles for looking between the women and listening, much as Vadevjiath at his side is doing: the bronze isn't nearly as playful as his siblings, too serious by half. Quinlys' blue eyes turn on Edyis, one part surprised and one part clearly unamused. "'Thinking of people as tools,'" she repeats, bemused. "That's rather a large leap to make, weyrling." There's a note of warning, there. "As much as I hate to admit it, Keysi's right; we serve the Weyr. Should we be lucky enough to be awarded rank, we serve in that at the pleasure of our superiors." Her tone is one of studied neutrality, plainly something she's trying very hard at. "We can, and should, speak up when we believe something is wrong, but..." Stupid but. "Is it?" Edyis answers softly, pensive. "I think not quite as large a leap for some otherwise, history would read quite differently." She meets the Weyrlingmaster's gaze evenly. "Fortunately, Reaches seems to have a very short number of those kinds of people." As for that but? "Rank is still rank, whether at Hold, Hall or Weyr?" She suggests perhaps unhelpfully, in that soft, bland tone. Teeth! Akluseth roars! Well, it isn't a roar, more of a rumbling trill really. Someday he'll be frightening perhaps. Untill then he'll settle for 'playing' with his little brother. "Serving is not mindless." Keysi follows Quinlys's words, critical, low and sharp-edged. Her opinions may have shifted slightly from their first conversation long ago, but not by that much. "Healing." She compares of leadership, "It's an art. It has correct ways and wrong ways. And then there are the many ways inbetween, where every healer you ask will have a different method of doing them. If you do not question, you do not know why, you'll never learn to be the wiser. Or," And she shrugs one shoulder slightly and a bit awkwardly, "If maybe it was a damn good idea afterall." Grey, studying, intent eyes are riveted on the weyrlingmaster for that, shifting to Ed in turn. Neianth's voice is loud and abrupt in response for his small self, his babyish roar supposedly play-threatening, supposedly supported by posturing of rising wings and shifting tail. He won't leave Akluseth alone, it's certain. While Vadevjiath listens and observes, R'van notes, "Well. I'm not sure it's particularly relevant to any of us at present. We have our weyrlingmaster's mandate: training first, and then perhaps we'll have opportunity to weigh our desires versus our uses." His tone's lighter, amused: he's enjoying the debate, at least. "I think it a rather large leap for you to imply in this context," is Quinlys short, clipped answer to Edyis, her brows raised meaningfully. "To jump from 'being useful to the Weyr' to 'Rone' is an implication about this conversation, and my home, that I don't much like." She's not much more pleased by Keysi's remarks, either, that mercurial temper clearly drawn into a high as she adds, "I don't believe anyone said that serving was mindless. It can be, but only when one chooses to serve blindly. It--" She is, somewhat belatedly, drawn back to R'van's words. "Indeed," she agrees, firmly, and in a end-of-discussion kind of way. If Edyis seems bothered by the redhead's change in tone it doesn't show in the neutrality of her expression. "It is my home too, last I checked. Hence, in all things and contexts I mean to protect it." Her soft soprano remains low and devoid of emotion. "That means remembering the things that ought to be remembered." Rafe's suggestion is treated with a shrug, and there's a worrying of brows for all of Keysi's statements. "Permission to go run laps Ma'am." Edyis offers crisply, without any trace of sarcasm or insubordination in the words. Keysi is not subdued, but she is quieted, likely not of her own convincing. She chooses to fold her arms, but her expression level but eyes showing a glint of something simmering behind them that's not altogether gone. R'van's remarks get a glance, and eventually- "Both short and long term goals are important." Is given as both a comment and her farewell. Neianth is quieted as well, a hiss that curls itself into an irritated rumbling being all that remains after the 'roaring' match a moment ago. His whirling eyes are back on his rider and he ghosts after her as she's soon in motion- her ever-growing shadow- heading out towards the bowl unless commanded back. And R'van, having done his part in inciting such disagreement, just nudges at Vadevjiath's side. "You should sleep," he tells the dragon, herding him toward the barracks and his couch. "Weyrlingmaster." It's Quinlys that he bids farewell to: it's only respectful, after all. "And making implications that ought not to be made?" Quinlys sounds downright angry, now, despite her attempt to support R'van's end to the conversation. "Learn to watch your mouth, weyrling. Throwing implications of Rone around is liable to get you into trouble. Dismissed." That dismissal may even include Keysi, for although her gaze shoots after that weyrling, too, she makes no comment towards her; the same, in the end, is true of R'van, for whom she has a simple, sharp nod. Abandoned on all sides... and probably for the best. Lucky Telavi, walking in on this! She's all but skipping in from the bowl, eyes bright and-- her hands go up, because Keysi. Perhaps it is a sign that Edyis is maturing, that there is no gentle reply to Quinlys fury. Only the quickening of short strides into a loping gait intended to bear her into the bowl and toward her purpose. Akluseth is loping behind, playfully nipping at Neianth on his way past. Keysi's swift pace out is (rudely?) interrupted by a quick-moving familiar body in the way of her path. Which is noted, unfortunately, almost late enough to nearly run straight into Telavi given her gaze is down-cast and lost in thought. The 'nearly' may well turn into 'fully' if Telavi doesn't see her either. Neianth is, fortunately, stalk-leaps to the side in preference to being in the middle of the close encounter, though he may be more offended by the whole thing than the weyrling is. "-Telavi." Obvious, but in surprise. It's the sound of Telavi's name that has Quinlys spinning back to glance at the door: perhaps she's in need of a good vent session with her assistant. But Keysi's still there; she falters, just watching in stoney silence. Nearly fully, a barely-deflected thud and a yelped, "Hey!" It's followed by Tela's quick-smiled, "Keysi. What's the hurry?" Outside, it's all sunshine. Keysi is quick to reverse a step or two, and her answer comes slowly and only after a hesitating glance back from whence she came, "..Nothing. I just have running to do." Obviously not the truth, but with her even tone, it's only the sidelong albeit brief look at the weyrlingmaster that makes it so obvious. "Running," agrees Quinlys, opening her mouth finally. The implication is clear: let her go unmolested, Telavi. Quinlys needs you more! Tela follows that glance, of course she does-- her eyes widen-- "Enjoy your... running," she says too-brightly. A sidestep later, the already-broad exit is clearer yet, and Keysi's free to go. To escape! Keysi lingering still, but only a moment more. Quinlys is given one last look- intense as always, considering, studying. And with a final short but reasonably respectful nod to Telavi- and just Telavi for now, oh my- she and her blackened-brown shadow are swallowed in the sunlight beyond the cavern. It's only once Keysi is gone that Quinlys, in a strangled voice, manages to get out: "Office. Now." And she turns on her heels to do just that, without waiting to see if the greenrider will follow; presumably, she simply expects it. And out comes that bottle from the bottom drawer (of course). Let it not be said that Telavi can't be obedient, at least when it comes to Quinlys; she knows her cue! Somewhere in that, R'van has managed to get Vadevjiath to his couch--but while the bronze is quick to drift to sleep, his rider isn't so inclined. He's lucky: they've got one of the first bunks in the barracks, just on the other side of the doorway. Prime eavesdropping territory. |
Comments
Alida (03:22, 26 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
- gigglefits!* YAAAAAY! You go, gals! (Ed, Keys!) It's time that some other Weyrling pisses off Quinlys! Alida would be cheering silently behind you! :D
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