Lu visits the 'Reaches
Date: Day 14, Month 3, Turn 25
Location: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: A meeting of old faces and new. (nicked from kasadel)
Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen.
Brilliant light plays off of the dunes of snow as a cloudless winter day brings with it extreme cold.
Few folk would probably be willing to brave the cold, but the bitter creature leaning against the fence watching the herdbeasts seems oblivious. The tiny frame is almost completely concealed in a massive coat, furlined at the wrists and hood which is drawn up over her head. It moves ever so slightly as she watches the animals wandering about, breath revealed as misty puffs at regular intervals. Her footsteps lead straight to her observation point and show no other signs of motion...it appears as though she may have been here alone for a while.
Cadejoth descends from above, a green-bronze dragons who launches himself directly at the nearest beast - taking it down with a single slice of his wicked sharp talons. His rider isn't too far behind, meandering through the snow drifts, his booted feet kicking up light showers as he walks. As he reaches the fence, K'del puts both gloved hands onto the railing, leaning forward with a resigned kind of expression, eyeing his dragon, the now-unhappy beasts, the brightness of the sun against the snow. It takes him a moment or two more before he notices Nyjah, but as he does, he aims a short, sharp nod in her direction.
Nyjah sighs heavily with disappointment as, almost out of nowhere, the offending bronze spoils the tranquility of the scene. It never takes long... The girl turns, looking around in clear frustration to see whom it is that has brought his.../creature/...to ruin her solitude. And there he is, leaning against the fence as if he owns it. She sets her jaw and returns the nod politely enough, veiling her vexation with a timid smile that looks a bit out of place with the tense set of her shoulders. She draws her coat closer around her body, turning her gaze to watch the carnage.
It could be a reflection of the sunlight off of icy overhangs, but the initial stirring from above turns into a sudden leap and vicious dive towards the pack of snowy herdbeasts. Pale gold wings fold as Rielsath zeroes in on her prey, only to turn aside at the last moment as if in a game. The already riled herd stirs and stamps, and the dragon retreats once again, eyes whirling in predatory joy. A figure stands some distance from Nyjah, equally bundled and still. Her head turns slightly to watch the finicky hunter, an unabashed smile on her face. For the moment there's no comment, merely a lift of the head in acknowledgement to the other girl. Her gaze lingers on the other rider, but inevitably turns to follow the gold who seems to be playing with dinner.
Blithely unaware of the vexation he's caused, K'del returns Nyjah's smile with a brighter, more enthusiastic one. Rocking back and forth on his heels, apparently to keep himself warm, he remarks, "Afternoon. Chilly afternoon to be out here, isn't it?" Unconsciously mimicking his mother, Cadejoth, too, is playing with his food, rapidly coating his nose and mouth in the blood and entrails of his chosen beast. He lets out a rumble of greeting to the gold, and it's this that turns K'del's attention away from Nyjah and towards first the gold, and then, her rider. Sounding surprised - but not displeased - he calls out, "Lujayn?"
Nyjah draws her hood closer about her face as the gold joins in the chase. She presses herself against the fence, taking in fully the scene of chaos and blood. She trembles with pity for the poor prey beasts, avoiding looking at the bronzerider as she responds. "The weather is fair enough for anyone accustomed to it." Her tone is carefully neutral, and she does not turn to see the other woman K'del addresses. She only has eyes for the antics of the dragons, wrinkling her nose as the bronze one enjoys his kill.
Nyjah draws her hood closer about her face as the gold joins in the chase. She presses herself against the fence, taking in fully the scene of chaos and blood. She trembles with pity for the poor prey beasts, avoiding looking at the bronzerider as she responds. "The weather is fair enough for anyone accustomed to it." Her tone is carefully neutral, and she does not turn to see the other woman K'del addresses. She only has eyes for the antics of the dragons, wrinkling her nose as the bronze one enjoys his kill.
Lujayn approaches the fence, strange and familiar at once. She's silent as the gold resettles atop the ridges, showing little to no interest in further hunting, then turns fully to face the two onlookers. She's hesitant, but can't hold back a smile. Defrosting a bit, Lu's eyes crinkle at the corners. "K'del! I wasn't sure what kind of a welcome I'd get," She confesses, rubbing mittened hands together. "Igen's made me soft for this cold." Rielsath, for her part, warbles a greeting back to Cadejoth. Perhaps scheming, perhaps resting - her body is curled though her long neck remains poised to watch. She shows none of her rider's timidity at returning to High Reaches. "Apparently I'm not accustomed at all," She remarks sheepishly to Nyjah, withdrawing into her fur-lined hood with a puff of warm breath.
"It's been too long," is all K'del says to Lujayn's confession, a remark that still holds a certain diplomacy within it; he's cautious, even as he's smiling at her. "But what prompted the visit? Just catching up with old friends?" Responding that gives him a handful of moments to consider Nyjah's remark, and with this, too, he's a little more cautious, a little more measured. "Cold is cold, no matter what you're used to. It's /freezing/. If it weren't for the fact that I've been stuck in meetings all day, I'd've stayed in when Cadejoth came out." Cadejoth seems somewhat smug at the greeting from Rielsath, his tail tapping merrily against the hard-packed snow as he continues to devour his meal.
Nyjah nibbles at the inside of one cheek, shoulders slumping with defeat. No going back to contemplation now. She turns to have a better look at the usurpers of her time, gold and bronzerider both. She gives K'del a calculating look and lowers her head so that the hood conveniently shields her eyes and her expression. "I wanted to have a look at the quality of the hides of your animals." It's hard to say whether she means the herdbeasts or the dragons, as level as her tone is..at least until she clarifies, "I hadn't thought that these would mainly be food beasts and not bred for their hair. I'm interested in wools."
"Business," Lujayn answers breezily, tone suggesting she isn't interested in discussing the details just now. "But there's never harm in having any fun." Rielsath agrees wholeheartedly with another rumble from on high, tail twitching as she watches Cadejoth at his meal. More than willing to include another person in the conversation, Lu tilts her head curiously. "Well.. at a tanner hall, maybe, but here we need to keep our dragons strong." It's more of an amused remark than anything serious, smiling all the while. "I'm Lujayn, of Igen," -said knot obscured by her heavy layers- "formerly Reaches."
'Business' does, certainly, make K'del's eyebrows raise... and then his eyes narrow. But he doesn't ask; instead, he nods his head, affecting a breezy expression of his own. To Nyjah; "Most of our wool comes from the Holds-- High Reaches Hold in particular, of course. Llamas. But I suppose you'd know that." There's a half question to his tone, as though he's guessed, and is trying to confirm. "And I'm K'del." He seems to expect that she'll know where /he/ is from-- and probably, who he is.
Nyjah lifts her chin, returning the smile warmly enough. It does not reach her eyes. "Nyjah...I was of High Reaches Hold. Weaver apprentice." There's some genuine warmth in her eyes when K'del mentions llamas, and she nods in agreement. "No finer quality," she says. "I thought the Weyr might have their own breeding stock...I was wrong about that." She doesn't seem bothered to admit she may have thought otherwise. "I've heard of you..but it's a pleasure meeting you." She looks once again to Lujayn. "And welcome back."
It's hard to see Lujayn's expression from inside her hood, but something of the hesitance returns. "We give good business to the Halls," She muses, though "And Holds' tithes are so necessary to feed our dragons. I couldn't imagine breeding enough to feed some of ours-" A swift movement of sunlight above signals Rielsath's silent swoop, catching one beast in her claw and butting at another with her snout as she passes, settling near enough to Cadejoth to suggest a meeting of old acquaintances - not standoffish in the least. There's no room for play in true business, as her vigorous mouthfuls show. "Thanks for the welcome. I've missed it here." Not skipping a beat, the woman continues, "Are you planning to weave at the Weyr? Winter's not much of a fashion season, but you could get plenty come spring.." Smiling again, expressions torn between friendly and wary today.
Cadejoth huffs a warm and cheerful breath in Rielsath's direction as she approaches; his tail keeps tapping, and his head tips to the side, almost canine-like. Then he, too, goes for another kill: yum. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Nyjah," says his rider, with genuine warmth. And to Lujayn; "It /is/ good to see you again." That, too, seems genuine, even if there's still that somewhat hesitant expression on his face. "Mm, not sure we could support them properly, here. And we'd have to keep the dragons away from them, so as not to ruin the wool. Better to leave them to the Holds. But weavers-- yes, we always need weavers."
p lu=Pro to Rielsath: With a clunking, rattling metallic whisper, Cadejoth extends a tendril of eager, enthusiastic thought. << K'del says I ought to ask you why you and your rider came. But I won't. >>
"It has been recommended that I weave for the Weyr," the turnager answers, though she withdraws back into the safety of her own coverings. "I'm to study with the journeymen." At last, she edges away from the security of the fence. "They can be a bit unnerving..the dragons," she murmurs, more to herself than to the two riders. "They do frighten the animals terribly." She gives the grounds one last look, chewing at her lower lip. "I should be returning to the complex, though. I'll be needed for class soon, I think." She gives the sky a glance, checking the position of the sun and bending at the hip to bow to both K'del and Lujayn. "Good afternoon, sir...ma'am." As politely as she can, she excuses herself and heads off through the snow, though she does not appear to hurry.
Lujayn can hardly form a question before Nyjah departs, wondering if the girl would have rather stayed with her Hold. She's nodding a farewell before any words have a chance to follow, watching the figure depart with a kind of wistfulness. "That's kindness," She remarks instead fo K'del, leaning once more on the fence. Rielsath's gobbled her meal and gone traipsing after her stunned seconds, tailing it in a more coy, superior manner as it stumbles about. "Maybe I'll be here before summer to see what the journeymen make of her." As for the poor animals, Lu's eyes are blind to their fright as testament to any dragonrider's commitment. "Wish I had come more often. This is so strange. I've heard.. things, of course.. but it's different actually being here." She shuffles, curling warmth into her toes. "How has everyone been?"
K'del opens his mouth to respond to the young weaver, but he, too, gets little chance to do so before she departs. Thus, he turns his attention back towards Lujayn, hesitating only momentarily before he responds. "You'd be welcome to visit again, of course. Any time you like." There's a faint hint of awkwardness to that, as though he's struggling over whether that needs to be said, or not. Hurriedly, then; "I'm sure it is. Must be. It has been some time. Everyone else... well. In general. Good, I think. In varying degrees, of course, as people are. And you've been well, I hope? The news out of Igen seems-- mostly uneventful."
Pro to Cadejoth: << Not interested? >> Rielsath asks as she wipes her muzzle over the snowy ground, a mess made messier. << And Lu's given me many answers if you do. >> A tantalizing hint, a game.
p lujayn=Pro to Rielsath: << Welllll... >> Cadejoth can't quite say that. He even shuffles one foot on the ground, sort of sheepish, as he admits, << I /am/. But it's polite not to ask. Unless... what kind of answers? I /could/ tell you things. >> Specific things! His chains clank, eager, interested, enthusiastic.
"It has been," Lujayn shrugs, though her eyes go distant at some word from Rielsath. "Of course we had a clutch, but.. that's routine, isn't it?" The pair have, after all, been away nearly five turns. The inevitable cycle of draconic life doesn't stop for desert sands. "I plan to come more often." She states with confidence as Rielsath puts the second beast out of its misery. "You're probably not the person to address, but," Sigh, here goes. Grown up Lu, all sheepish. "I'm sorry for not coming back when Ezalea left. It was chaotic for a time with her return, and Rielsath rising, I just-" Abruptly stopped, rolling her eyes. "/She/ would have up and left, so there's one point in our favor. I can't imagine how rough it's been here." A scattered apology, but a weight lifts from her demeanor as a gust of wind blows it harshly to the cliffs. "Cadejoth looks splendid. And here I was afraid they wouldn't be getting along." If 'getting along' means shared reveling in the hunt, so far so good.
Pro to Cadejoth: Rielsath takes a chain and brings fiery light to it, a burning brand lashing through darkness. She won't be caught by those tangly things. << Time off. Errands. Politics. Restlessness. >> She's infuriatingly vague, torchlight barely skimming the surface of deeper waters - and doesn't she know it. << Home. >> Her last addition is more of her own, letting cold winter sunlight seep into her world. /Her/ home.
K'del is silent, gloved hands splayed upon the fencepost, as Lujayn speaks. He's awkward, somehow, in the stance of his shoulders, and what expression is visible around his layers of clothing. It's mention of Cadejoth that makes him actually smile, though-- and laugh, too. "It seems like there's something of her in him, I think. It's always strange, when you pick it. Some of his babies-- well, not babies now, I guess-- are a bit like him, too." He lets out a long, visible breath, then, carefully, "I understand. Sort of, at least. It's-- it was hard. Sometimes. It's better, now. We have a Junior." And she may well have heard that Iskiveth was not, after all, rendered infertile with her firestone ingestion, hurray! "I'm sure a lot of people would be pleased to see you more often."
Pro to Rielsath: Cadejoth's chains gleam and glitter: he likes this. How pretty! He gives them a little shake, but for now, they hold back, not seeking to entwine or entrap. << /Restlessness/. >> He knows this one, and there's a sense of his rider in it, of itchy feet, of lack of-- something. And home, too: << /Home/. >> Winter, and snow, icing up his chains, extending towards her. << Igen has no snow. >>
"The worst is over, we're thinking." Lujayn smiles. We, dragon and rider? We, Igen? Ambiguous-meeting We? "I was impressed with the handling of Reaches, especially with only Iovniath as senior," She admits. "At least I won't be marked as a betrayer for not coming when called, it sounds like." She hops onto the fence as Rielsath approaches, the dragon smearing her snout across more snow to leave crimson traces in the muddled slush. "If there's anything I can do, let me know." An admission to the hardships she's missed out on, avoided altogether whether purposefully or not. "It /is/ good to be here."
Pro to Cadejoth: << The sand is /itchy/. >> Rielsath huffs, a bluster of the pale grains catching in her words, roughening them. << But cool. If you dig... >> Images of deep wallows, scorching days and chilling nights, the thrill of exploration with the constant yearning for Home. << Things are different when you dig. >>
Whichever 'we' it is, K'del accepts it, graciously, inclining his head forward. "It is," he confirms. "And no, you won't-- not now. Perhaps a handful of turns ago, but... we're doing well, now." Cadejoth's wings flutter; he takes to the air, just a hover, testing his weight after his heavy meal. Good enough. He very badly needs a wash, though, something K'del must note as he casts a critical eye over his dragon. "It's good to have you. Look-- I need to run. But you should visit more often. You're still one of us, you know, in some way." He'll wait for a response, then take his leave, headed back across the bowl at a pace fast enough to suggest he really /does/ have somewhere to be.
Pro to Rielsath: Itchy? Bah. Cadejoth doesn't much approve of that; prefers the soft-hard-crunch-cold of snow. He leans in to those images, though, eager and interested. << Digging is especially fun, >> he confirms, before he must release her mind and be gone.
Location: Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: A meeting of old faces and new. (nicked from kasadel)
Feeding Grounds, High Reaches Weyr
Wedged between the lake and the rest of the vast bowl are the dusty feeding grounds. Here, the well-trampled ground is contained by a sturdy wooden fence, cutting right through one end of the lake to section it off into a muddy watering hole for the animals. Several gates allow people in and out, while at the back, large overhangs of rock provide the herd -- a mixed bag of herdbeasts, wing-clipped wherries, and fat porcines -- shelter from storms or the hot sun. What grass survives is usually bloodstained, but feeding troughs are stationed around the edges of the pen.
Brilliant light plays off of the dunes of snow as a cloudless winter day brings with it extreme cold.
Few folk would probably be willing to brave the cold, but the bitter creature leaning against the fence watching the herdbeasts seems oblivious. The tiny frame is almost completely concealed in a massive coat, furlined at the wrists and hood which is drawn up over her head. It moves ever so slightly as she watches the animals wandering about, breath revealed as misty puffs at regular intervals. Her footsteps lead straight to her observation point and show no other signs of motion...it appears as though she may have been here alone for a while.
Cadejoth descends from above, a green-bronze dragons who launches himself directly at the nearest beast - taking it down with a single slice of his wicked sharp talons. His rider isn't too far behind, meandering through the snow drifts, his booted feet kicking up light showers as he walks. As he reaches the fence, K'del puts both gloved hands onto the railing, leaning forward with a resigned kind of expression, eyeing his dragon, the now-unhappy beasts, the brightness of the sun against the snow. It takes him a moment or two more before he notices Nyjah, but as he does, he aims a short, sharp nod in her direction.
Nyjah sighs heavily with disappointment as, almost out of nowhere, the offending bronze spoils the tranquility of the scene. It never takes long... The girl turns, looking around in clear frustration to see whom it is that has brought his.../creature/...to ruin her solitude. And there he is, leaning against the fence as if he owns it. She sets her jaw and returns the nod politely enough, veiling her vexation with a timid smile that looks a bit out of place with the tense set of her shoulders. She draws her coat closer around her body, turning her gaze to watch the carnage.
It could be a reflection of the sunlight off of icy overhangs, but the initial stirring from above turns into a sudden leap and vicious dive towards the pack of snowy herdbeasts. Pale gold wings fold as Rielsath zeroes in on her prey, only to turn aside at the last moment as if in a game. The already riled herd stirs and stamps, and the dragon retreats once again, eyes whirling in predatory joy. A figure stands some distance from Nyjah, equally bundled and still. Her head turns slightly to watch the finicky hunter, an unabashed smile on her face. For the moment there's no comment, merely a lift of the head in acknowledgement to the other girl. Her gaze lingers on the other rider, but inevitably turns to follow the gold who seems to be playing with dinner.
Blithely unaware of the vexation he's caused, K'del returns Nyjah's smile with a brighter, more enthusiastic one. Rocking back and forth on his heels, apparently to keep himself warm, he remarks, "Afternoon. Chilly afternoon to be out here, isn't it?" Unconsciously mimicking his mother, Cadejoth, too, is playing with his food, rapidly coating his nose and mouth in the blood and entrails of his chosen beast. He lets out a rumble of greeting to the gold, and it's this that turns K'del's attention away from Nyjah and towards first the gold, and then, her rider. Sounding surprised - but not displeased - he calls out, "Lujayn?"
Nyjah draws her hood closer about her face as the gold joins in the chase. She presses herself against the fence, taking in fully the scene of chaos and blood. She trembles with pity for the poor prey beasts, avoiding looking at the bronzerider as she responds. "The weather is fair enough for anyone accustomed to it." Her tone is carefully neutral, and she does not turn to see the other woman K'del addresses. She only has eyes for the antics of the dragons, wrinkling her nose as the bronze one enjoys his kill.
Nyjah draws her hood closer about her face as the gold joins in the chase. She presses herself against the fence, taking in fully the scene of chaos and blood. She trembles with pity for the poor prey beasts, avoiding looking at the bronzerider as she responds. "The weather is fair enough for anyone accustomed to it." Her tone is carefully neutral, and she does not turn to see the other woman K'del addresses. She only has eyes for the antics of the dragons, wrinkling her nose as the bronze one enjoys his kill.
Lujayn approaches the fence, strange and familiar at once. She's silent as the gold resettles atop the ridges, showing little to no interest in further hunting, then turns fully to face the two onlookers. She's hesitant, but can't hold back a smile. Defrosting a bit, Lu's eyes crinkle at the corners. "K'del! I wasn't sure what kind of a welcome I'd get," She confesses, rubbing mittened hands together. "Igen's made me soft for this cold." Rielsath, for her part, warbles a greeting back to Cadejoth. Perhaps scheming, perhaps resting - her body is curled though her long neck remains poised to watch. She shows none of her rider's timidity at returning to High Reaches. "Apparently I'm not accustomed at all," She remarks sheepishly to Nyjah, withdrawing into her fur-lined hood with a puff of warm breath.
"It's been too long," is all K'del says to Lujayn's confession, a remark that still holds a certain diplomacy within it; he's cautious, even as he's smiling at her. "But what prompted the visit? Just catching up with old friends?" Responding that gives him a handful of moments to consider Nyjah's remark, and with this, too, he's a little more cautious, a little more measured. "Cold is cold, no matter what you're used to. It's /freezing/. If it weren't for the fact that I've been stuck in meetings all day, I'd've stayed in when Cadejoth came out." Cadejoth seems somewhat smug at the greeting from Rielsath, his tail tapping merrily against the hard-packed snow as he continues to devour his meal.
Nyjah nibbles at the inside of one cheek, shoulders slumping with defeat. No going back to contemplation now. She turns to have a better look at the usurpers of her time, gold and bronzerider both. She gives K'del a calculating look and lowers her head so that the hood conveniently shields her eyes and her expression. "I wanted to have a look at the quality of the hides of your animals." It's hard to say whether she means the herdbeasts or the dragons, as level as her tone is..at least until she clarifies, "I hadn't thought that these would mainly be food beasts and not bred for their hair. I'm interested in wools."
"Business," Lujayn answers breezily, tone suggesting she isn't interested in discussing the details just now. "But there's never harm in having any fun." Rielsath agrees wholeheartedly with another rumble from on high, tail twitching as she watches Cadejoth at his meal. More than willing to include another person in the conversation, Lu tilts her head curiously. "Well.. at a tanner hall, maybe, but here we need to keep our dragons strong." It's more of an amused remark than anything serious, smiling all the while. "I'm Lujayn, of Igen," -said knot obscured by her heavy layers- "formerly Reaches."
'Business' does, certainly, make K'del's eyebrows raise... and then his eyes narrow. But he doesn't ask; instead, he nods his head, affecting a breezy expression of his own. To Nyjah; "Most of our wool comes from the Holds-- High Reaches Hold in particular, of course. Llamas. But I suppose you'd know that." There's a half question to his tone, as though he's guessed, and is trying to confirm. "And I'm K'del." He seems to expect that she'll know where /he/ is from-- and probably, who he is.
Nyjah lifts her chin, returning the smile warmly enough. It does not reach her eyes. "Nyjah...I was of High Reaches Hold. Weaver apprentice." There's some genuine warmth in her eyes when K'del mentions llamas, and she nods in agreement. "No finer quality," she says. "I thought the Weyr might have their own breeding stock...I was wrong about that." She doesn't seem bothered to admit she may have thought otherwise. "I've heard of you..but it's a pleasure meeting you." She looks once again to Lujayn. "And welcome back."
It's hard to see Lujayn's expression from inside her hood, but something of the hesitance returns. "We give good business to the Halls," She muses, though "And Holds' tithes are so necessary to feed our dragons. I couldn't imagine breeding enough to feed some of ours-" A swift movement of sunlight above signals Rielsath's silent swoop, catching one beast in her claw and butting at another with her snout as she passes, settling near enough to Cadejoth to suggest a meeting of old acquaintances - not standoffish in the least. There's no room for play in true business, as her vigorous mouthfuls show. "Thanks for the welcome. I've missed it here." Not skipping a beat, the woman continues, "Are you planning to weave at the Weyr? Winter's not much of a fashion season, but you could get plenty come spring.." Smiling again, expressions torn between friendly and wary today.
Cadejoth huffs a warm and cheerful breath in Rielsath's direction as she approaches; his tail keeps tapping, and his head tips to the side, almost canine-like. Then he, too, goes for another kill: yum. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Nyjah," says his rider, with genuine warmth. And to Lujayn; "It /is/ good to see you again." That, too, seems genuine, even if there's still that somewhat hesitant expression on his face. "Mm, not sure we could support them properly, here. And we'd have to keep the dragons away from them, so as not to ruin the wool. Better to leave them to the Holds. But weavers-- yes, we always need weavers."
p lu=Pro to Rielsath: With a clunking, rattling metallic whisper, Cadejoth extends a tendril of eager, enthusiastic thought. << K'del says I ought to ask you why you and your rider came. But I won't. >>
"It has been recommended that I weave for the Weyr," the turnager answers, though she withdraws back into the safety of her own coverings. "I'm to study with the journeymen." At last, she edges away from the security of the fence. "They can be a bit unnerving..the dragons," she murmurs, more to herself than to the two riders. "They do frighten the animals terribly." She gives the grounds one last look, chewing at her lower lip. "I should be returning to the complex, though. I'll be needed for class soon, I think." She gives the sky a glance, checking the position of the sun and bending at the hip to bow to both K'del and Lujayn. "Good afternoon, sir...ma'am." As politely as she can, she excuses herself and heads off through the snow, though she does not appear to hurry.
Lujayn can hardly form a question before Nyjah departs, wondering if the girl would have rather stayed with her Hold. She's nodding a farewell before any words have a chance to follow, watching the figure depart with a kind of wistfulness. "That's kindness," She remarks instead fo K'del, leaning once more on the fence. Rielsath's gobbled her meal and gone traipsing after her stunned seconds, tailing it in a more coy, superior manner as it stumbles about. "Maybe I'll be here before summer to see what the journeymen make of her." As for the poor animals, Lu's eyes are blind to their fright as testament to any dragonrider's commitment. "Wish I had come more often. This is so strange. I've heard.. things, of course.. but it's different actually being here." She shuffles, curling warmth into her toes. "How has everyone been?"
K'del opens his mouth to respond to the young weaver, but he, too, gets little chance to do so before she departs. Thus, he turns his attention back towards Lujayn, hesitating only momentarily before he responds. "You'd be welcome to visit again, of course. Any time you like." There's a faint hint of awkwardness to that, as though he's struggling over whether that needs to be said, or not. Hurriedly, then; "I'm sure it is. Must be. It has been some time. Everyone else... well. In general. Good, I think. In varying degrees, of course, as people are. And you've been well, I hope? The news out of Igen seems-- mostly uneventful."
Pro to Cadejoth: << Not interested? >> Rielsath asks as she wipes her muzzle over the snowy ground, a mess made messier. << And Lu's given me many answers if you do. >> A tantalizing hint, a game.
p lujayn=Pro to Rielsath: << Welllll... >> Cadejoth can't quite say that. He even shuffles one foot on the ground, sort of sheepish, as he admits, << I /am/. But it's polite not to ask. Unless... what kind of answers? I /could/ tell you things. >> Specific things! His chains clank, eager, interested, enthusiastic.
"It has been," Lujayn shrugs, though her eyes go distant at some word from Rielsath. "Of course we had a clutch, but.. that's routine, isn't it?" The pair have, after all, been away nearly five turns. The inevitable cycle of draconic life doesn't stop for desert sands. "I plan to come more often." She states with confidence as Rielsath puts the second beast out of its misery. "You're probably not the person to address, but," Sigh, here goes. Grown up Lu, all sheepish. "I'm sorry for not coming back when Ezalea left. It was chaotic for a time with her return, and Rielsath rising, I just-" Abruptly stopped, rolling her eyes. "/She/ would have up and left, so there's one point in our favor. I can't imagine how rough it's been here." A scattered apology, but a weight lifts from her demeanor as a gust of wind blows it harshly to the cliffs. "Cadejoth looks splendid. And here I was afraid they wouldn't be getting along." If 'getting along' means shared reveling in the hunt, so far so good.
Pro to Cadejoth: Rielsath takes a chain and brings fiery light to it, a burning brand lashing through darkness. She won't be caught by those tangly things. << Time off. Errands. Politics. Restlessness. >> She's infuriatingly vague, torchlight barely skimming the surface of deeper waters - and doesn't she know it. << Home. >> Her last addition is more of her own, letting cold winter sunlight seep into her world. /Her/ home.
K'del is silent, gloved hands splayed upon the fencepost, as Lujayn speaks. He's awkward, somehow, in the stance of his shoulders, and what expression is visible around his layers of clothing. It's mention of Cadejoth that makes him actually smile, though-- and laugh, too. "It seems like there's something of her in him, I think. It's always strange, when you pick it. Some of his babies-- well, not babies now, I guess-- are a bit like him, too." He lets out a long, visible breath, then, carefully, "I understand. Sort of, at least. It's-- it was hard. Sometimes. It's better, now. We have a Junior." And she may well have heard that Iskiveth was not, after all, rendered infertile with her firestone ingestion, hurray! "I'm sure a lot of people would be pleased to see you more often."
Pro to Rielsath: Cadejoth's chains gleam and glitter: he likes this. How pretty! He gives them a little shake, but for now, they hold back, not seeking to entwine or entrap. << /Restlessness/. >> He knows this one, and there's a sense of his rider in it, of itchy feet, of lack of-- something. And home, too: << /Home/. >> Winter, and snow, icing up his chains, extending towards her. << Igen has no snow. >>
"The worst is over, we're thinking." Lujayn smiles. We, dragon and rider? We, Igen? Ambiguous-meeting We? "I was impressed with the handling of Reaches, especially with only Iovniath as senior," She admits. "At least I won't be marked as a betrayer for not coming when called, it sounds like." She hops onto the fence as Rielsath approaches, the dragon smearing her snout across more snow to leave crimson traces in the muddled slush. "If there's anything I can do, let me know." An admission to the hardships she's missed out on, avoided altogether whether purposefully or not. "It /is/ good to be here."
Pro to Cadejoth: << The sand is /itchy/. >> Rielsath huffs, a bluster of the pale grains catching in her words, roughening them. << But cool. If you dig... >> Images of deep wallows, scorching days and chilling nights, the thrill of exploration with the constant yearning for Home. << Things are different when you dig. >>
Whichever 'we' it is, K'del accepts it, graciously, inclining his head forward. "It is," he confirms. "And no, you won't-- not now. Perhaps a handful of turns ago, but... we're doing well, now." Cadejoth's wings flutter; he takes to the air, just a hover, testing his weight after his heavy meal. Good enough. He very badly needs a wash, though, something K'del must note as he casts a critical eye over his dragon. "It's good to have you. Look-- I need to run. But you should visit more often. You're still one of us, you know, in some way." He'll wait for a response, then take his leave, headed back across the bowl at a pace fast enough to suggest he really /does/ have somewhere to be.
Pro to Rielsath: Itchy? Bah. Cadejoth doesn't much approve of that; prefers the soft-hard-crunch-cold of snow. He leans in to those images, though, eager and interested. << Digging is especially fun, >> he confirms, before he must release her mind and be gone.