Out and About
Who: Emmeline, Khorde, Lujayn, Nathalia, Rhaelyn, Rielsath
Where: Mountain Meadow, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 4, month 6, turn 26
Lujayn escorts a few people outside of the Weyr for some fresh air. General relaxation ensues. Weaving baskets, picking flowers, rock climbing. Rielsath is a KRAKEN FROM THE SEA, ARRRGH-
\A long, broad valley sandwiched between taller mountain peaks, its lush grasses stand at waist height in the summertime and sway gently in the constant breeze, dying back only in early winter. In spring, the meadow comes alive, turning the ocean of green into a sea of reds, blues, yellows and oranges as tiny flowers burst into bloom. At dawn and dusk, small herds of wild herbivores might be seen at the end of the valley as shadowy shapes who keep well away from visitors. Winding along the edge of the mountain base as it follows a downward slope, a small stream provides clear, fresh water from the snow-capped peaks.
The shadows are growing longer across a meadow nestled in a valley near to High Reaches, though the time can't be much past noon. Lujayn is busily unbuckling straps from an impatient Rielsath, one eye on the mixed group she's brought with her for a breath of fresh, flowery air. It's warm and comfortable, the colors of wildflowers apparent at every turn. Lu grins happily as her dragon moves into one of the mountainous shadows to loll with a contented croon, then turning to her 'cargo.' "I thought you'd like this spot. I used to come here a lot - good to see it hasn't changed much."
Once her feet can touch the glorious ground again, Emme looks near ready to kiss the ground. Except, she doesn't. Instead her face just lights up at the abundance of color that springs in every direction. "-Wow-." Yes, it's another exile moment. And she is, temporarily at least, rooted in place trying to decide just which way to skip first. "I hear a stream. Is there a stream too?"
Half-tumbling from his unprofessional dismount, Khorde takes a step or four to put himself to rights. The gangly Healer's gofur takes a deep breath, almost belated, inhaling the soft grace of flower-scented air. He moves off to wander, a child's enthusiasm and articulated wonder softening the harsh lines of his face. There's a somewhat-distracted grin back to Lujayn, as infectious as anything that he could ever offer, but Emme's observation of possible-water has him swerving back towards his frenemy with a craning view here and there, trying to spy the so-called stream.
Nat seems a little sad to be on the ground again, but there's a contented sigh for the scene that rolls on ahead. "Wow Lujayn, I really can't thank you enough for inviting me." It certainly beat cleaning up more messes left over from dragon meals well at least it smelled prettier anyway. She watches the Islanders with a muted amusement, realizing this was probably the first time they had really seen a whole lot out side the weyr. A soft smile remains on her lips as she studies the meadow.
"Over by the rocks, closer to the mountains," Lujayn confirms, more interested in clambering up the rough slope at the moment. The flowers will always be there, and they even crop up from time to time amongst the rocks that give purchase for attaining that beautiful view of her meadow. "Figured since there's a while until the next gather, you'd appreciate a change of scenery. I know I do." She admits readily, pausing to seat herself on a sun-warmed rock. "It feels so far away.. if you can forget the mountains." As she looks over her shoulder to eye the Reaches' signature spires, the rider relaxes visibly. "I made sure you had your chores done first, don't worry about that," She tacks on with an air of responsibility. "I'd be in hot water if we left carcasses lying around or firestone waiting to be sorted."
Emmeline even spares a grin for Khorde when he meanders her way to try and spot the stream; he's taller, so she waits for his assessment until Lujayn makes mention of where it is. And then, nudges her cohort into following the goldrider up the slope as she does the same. Having spent most of their short lives outdoors, perhaps it's a balm for the little harper to get a chance to roam free in a sense. She's not even babbling! Just smiling and seeming rather peaceful as warmed rocks are reached and she can squint against the sun to see closer to the rocks. And, obviously, pick some flowers. At least one of which finds its way behind an ear.
"Oh." Khorde's comment follows after Emmeline's nudge -- he tags behind Lujayn, falling into the rhythm of tackling the rocky terrain with a certain deft experience in his movement. These aren't even wet with water! Child's play. He still cranes his neck about here and there as if looking for the stated stream, but -- obviously /he's/ not finding it. "It's so peaceful up here." He sprawls nearby the goldrider's location, loosing a grousy grumble as a chunk of rock digs into his lower back. He fishes it out and tries the sprawl again, this time basking. "Smells better'n the infirmary, that's for sure." Not that Khorde doesn't love his job -- he even looks guilty after he says it, shading his gaze around at the girls as if to ascertain if any of them, y'know, actually heard that.
Nat offers a laugh. "True enough, seems like there's always something to be done around the place. Certainly gives you an appreciation for all the people who do the work when there aren't candidates about." While the rocks seem like an interesting challenge, the smith seems content where she is at the moment, and plops down in the flowers, stretching. Sure there will be grass stains later but a little dirt and green never hurt anyone. She watches the two Islanders and laughs at Khorde's statement about the infirmary smells.
Rielsath cranes her neck to watch the progress of three little humans towards her mountainside retreat before settling quietly, of a similar mind to simply be, to enjoy and relax. "I remember /that/," She replies emphatically to Khorde's statement. "Brewing numbweed? No thanks," Not particularly concerned with complaints at this point - it would take an odd character to prefer chores to this place. "With the eggs, we have to stay close to the Weyr. Luckily there's no huge journey needed to find a place like this." She collects a few small pebbles in her hand, letting them skitter one by one into the tall grasses. Another silent moment follows, watching Emmeline's flowers, Nat's quiet observations and the sprawling of Khorde. There aren't many places to be found where one can loll around on the ground - unless you're a dragon, in which case the world is open for such a purpose.
Her lips quirk at Khorde's infirmary complaint, but Emme makes no comment about it at all. If anything, she seems to agree with the sentiment, a quiet noise from the back of her throat having to suffice as agreement there. And once she's plucked flowers of every color she can find nearby she sets them down on a flat spot, moving next towards tall grass to collect a those few that meet her apparent requirements. "I still haven't seen them. The eggs, that is. Except for once at the beginning. How do they look now?" she wonders, twisting and bending a few stalks of grass into a pattern that looks like weaving.
Indulgent, Khorde rolls on the warmth of the rock with a blissful expression about his face. So idyllic. Even Nathalia laughing at him doesn't break his good mood ... for now. "Yeah, numbweed..." His voice trails off, as if he's particularly reticent regarding anything negative in this moment in time. "Well, /I/ could stay out here." He may or may not shoot Emmeline a dark look; okay, so maybe negativity only extends to *certain* things. Like candidates. Entitled bit.. "Hard, I'd think," he can't help but quip, before rolling off as if in anticipation of some sort of blow aimed in his direction.
"They are getting close to /hatching/ aren't they?" Nathalia asks with a small sigh, picking a few flowers. She glances up to Emmeline a sad look on her face, At Khorde's comment she nods. "Yeah pretty much. Did you get to pick a favorite when you did get to see them?" It was not fair that they could not egg watch, but there was nothing to change it either. Such thoughts though did not seem to fit in such a place of serenity. She offers a shrug "I wonder if I would be able to get a few bits of those shells for some jewelry pieces." She muses.
"I haven't been a regular visitor to the galleries," Lujayn sighs, almost as wistful as a candidate. "You've got that part right, Khorde. They'll be looking more like real eggs now than at the beginning, with colors and shells as hard as you please." Rest time over, she continues the easy climb with a nod to Nathalia. "The dragonhealers have been giving positive reports." She watches Emmeline weave the grass as she passes with a curious gaze, straying closer to get a better look to see. "You're sure you want to be a Harper? That looks great."
Emmeline gives Khorde a rude gesture of course; she doesn't bother to wait and see if she got a dark look. The tone of his voice says he deserves it regardless. And she is always willing to oblige! "I remember seeing a couple I thought were fascinating. Don't think I could describe them now cause it's been so long." she admits, sounding a bit sheepish. Her grass weaving, if it could really be called weaving in the Pernese form of the word, appears to be taking on the shape of a basket by the time Lujayn asks about it; as swift and easy as Khorde was with climbing, she is with this. "Hmm? Oh! This is one of the things I had to teach the kids. But we used reeds for it. We all know how to do this. And with grass it's *so* much easier. You want one? I was just going to use it to hold the flowers."
"I'd think they'd have to be," Khorde replies to Nathalia's close-to-hatching comment. "It's been... forever." For-ev-er. A lifetime, in Khorde-lingo. The sulky boy doesn't seem likely to carry on his sulk further, though, ignoring the question of favorite-egg instead to peer over at Emmeline's weaving with a snort. "A baby could do that." See? She even said it herself! He plucks a few strands nearby, and starts a spiral himself, surprisingly slender fingers moving with deft motion. Showing off? Khorde? /Never/. He obviously doesn't see what retort he's set himself up perfectly for.
There's a smile for the dragon healer's reports at least. "That's good, I know everyone's worried, I think I heard the Weyr leader say there won't be any egg touching either." The smith notes. She smiles looking over to the Harper's weaving, and just studies Khorde a moment when he speaks. "Would you mind showing me how?" the girl asks the pair in a friendly tone. "Never did any weaving before. It would be a neat thing to try." She may even try it with metal later who knows?
Lujayn has to chuckle at the rivalry, watching the pair of basket-weavers exchange amicable insults. "If it's as easy as you say, maybe you could teach me instead." Lu offers to either of them at almost the same moment as Nathalia, venturing easily into the wild grasses to find long stalks of her own. "It takes forever so they don't come out looking like half-formed sea monsters," She says in jest at the old islander myth, lighthearted. "Dragons, I mean. Not baskets. Though I guess if you didn't pay attention, the basket might look something malformed.."
Rhaelyn has arrived.
"For a baby, you sure have an ugly mug." Emme replies sweetly, raising an eyebrow at Khorde when he stats weaving as well. She sees an opening, so she takes it. At least she looks amused rather then serious about the faux insult. "I don't see why we couldn't show you." The words are for both of the not-exiles, and so the Harper starts out by glancing around for an approprate piece of grass and plucks it out to show them. "The grass we need to use should be a bit thicker then most, or else it will break instead of bend with the weaving." The old sea monster myth makes her eyes sparkle, of course. "We used to take the kids out to a separate island for a campout when they get old enough, and scare them with sea monster stories. And then Xoami, or Devaki... or even Iolene sometimes would crash the party and pretend to be the sea monster."
Khorde glowers at Emme, belatedly, as if -- realizing what just happened there. The girl is too smart for her (read, KHORDE'S) own good. "Emmeline's the teacher," he states vaguely, to Lujayn and Nathalia alike, gesturing over to the Harper. "Sea only knows that one." Grumble, grumble. What? She's... she's... she's Emmeline. It's his life's duty to bitch about her. "Sea-monsters." Something that Lujayn brings Khorde back to the other conversation, and he snorts. "Shimana would like it better if they were sea-monsters, I think." Only belatedly -- /very/ belatedly -- does he guiltily look up, as if realizing what a major gaffe /that/ just was. Uh. He's dumb! He's just a sweet dumb boy! Insert vapid smile -- HERE.
There's a grin at the near synchronized question. And a mischievous look to the gold rider. Could this turn into a basket weaving competition? Who knows. At Emme's instruction though, the Smith herself starts looking for some good grasses finding a bunch of suitable stalks she drops down next to the harper, with a slight snicker for her use of wit, she's used to grumps by this point though. "I dunno Rielsath does a pretty good impression of a lake monster." She teases with a grin for Lujayn.
Four of the meadowgoers are sprawled at various points over the rocky slope of the meadow, enjoying midafternoon sun and a lesson in what sounds to be elementary basket weaving. Rielsath takes up the better part of the meadow's mountain-shaded high point, watching the group with sleepy eyes and a twitching tail, making sure no one gets lost on the pleasure outing. Lujayn compares her stalks to those Emmeline picks and decides they're thick enough, arranging them in the manner she thought she saw Emme use, all the while taking in stories of their pranks. "A role any mischievous dragon would be glad to play, the sea-monster to your screaming villagers." Going along with the joke, she folds her legs more comfortably and looks downhill to see if the rest of the party is accounted for.
It may very well only be the exiles that would even understand Khorde's gaffe there, and it certainly causes Emme to burst out laughing. Enough so that she falls back into the grass with an arm over her stomach a moment until she can pull herself back together. "Wonder if we could manage to make a sea-monster basket as gag gift for her. Oh that would be hilarious!" she decides, still giggling to herself by the time everyone sits back down with some grass to use. "Okay, first we lay out the strips in a grid pattern. Like this..." Plucking random grass just for demonstration, she starts laying out a bunch of strips vertically. And then takes more pieces, one at a time, to go over and under in an 'every other' pattern horizontally across the vertical strips.
Not unusual for Rhaelyn to slip away from the group and wander around by herself rather than insert herself into the conversation at hand. Always within the dragon's watchful eye, she picks her way through the tall grasses. In her own time she circles back to the others, her hands loaded down with various types of flowers. "Do mainlanders have stories of sea-monsters too? Other types of monsters?" Settling down she gives a smile to the others but tries not to intrude too much on the conversation at hand.
Khorde squints from Lujayn to Nathalia and back again, his expression somewhat-- dubious. Dragons, sea-monsters, /really/? Something dawns on his expression, as if maybe -- hey, dragons COULD be sea monsters, right? Maybe Shimana was *right* all along. Scary. But then Emmeline's laughing, and Khorde's sulking, and the world is as it is supposed to be. He nods absently to the returning Rhaelyn, and continues with his idle weaving -- apparently the bottom of some kind of circular grass-basket. It looks... pretty jacked.
There's lessons to be learned and friendly rivalries to be tested as Nat cracks her knuckles, grinning to Lu, "Too bad there can't be a festival or something at the weyr, to kind of remind them of home." Nat mentions thoughtfully. Well the good parts of their home anyway, the things they didn't want to forget. Maybe someday when wounds were less fresh. Following Emme's instruction she lays down the grid, accidentally snapping a few stalks her and there, discarding them ruefully when they break. "Sharding fragile things aren't they." She looks to Rhaelyn with a smile. "Well Wherries and Runners are pretty much always classed as monsters to me." She jokes, before eyeing the basket Khorde seems to be working on with a whistle of appreciation.
"Nothing so all-encompassing as sea monsters on a small island, but everyone knows to watch out for tunnelsnakes in caves and felines out in the wilds. The real monsters are enough for us, I think." Lujayn scoots to make room for Rhaelyn, "Though anyone with imagination can make up scary creatures around the campfire." She lays out her grasses carefully, speaking as she works with meticulous fingers. "The entire Weyr's going to be decorated with flowers, I think," Casting an eye over what Rhaelyn's collected in addition to the bouquets of Nat and Emme. "Or else the barracks are going to be the best-smelling room in the place." Her smile for a prank on Shimana is mild at best, having experienced some of the elder's ire firsthand. "If she hears too much of it, Ri might decide for herself to act like a sea monster for a few days. Because it would be so fun to cause general mayhem at the lake shore every time someone tried to have a swim."
Emmeline tries not to purse her lips or otherwise show signs of suppressed amusement at the most jacked circular basket -evar-, so is totally grateful (scary!) for Rhaelyn's arrival. Enough so that the other exile gets a smile and nod as a hello instead of the usual wary glance. "We had tunnelsnakes too, in the cave system." she gives a shudder for those. "But felines... I haven't ever seen one of those." Placing the sample grid out in the middle, she glances over at the others work with an encouraging smile. "Mostly the idea for this, the base, is to keep everything straight. Parallel." Having always been a huge suckup, obviously, Emme doesn't have many bad memories of Shimana's wrath. But, she -does- distinctly recall Ri's mischeivous side and it's like a dangerous little light goes off in the harper's brain. "Well now, wouldn't that be amusing to keep people on their toes." Lalalalala.
"Felines?" Rhaelyn looks up from the bundle of flowers, plucking off a few long stems of grass to wrap around the stems. "Are they fierce animals? Can you tame them like the dragons?" So, she doesn't pay too much attention to all her studies, go figure. Also a quiet, "Thank you." For the goldrider scooting over to make room for herself. Off go the sandals and she scrunches her toes into the cool grasses with obvious pleasure. Khorde's work in progress receives a small laugh but her attention shifts to the idea of more island-like activities. "I think it would be nice to have contests. Remember how hard it was to haul water...."
Khorde, the resident bitchboy, has plenty of memories of Shimana's wrath, though -- perhaps more memories of her over-the-top matchmaking. That said, in present company, he falls silent for a long moment (or five), working with idle intensity on his creation... whatever it is.
There's a peal of laughter for the thought of the gold becoming a sea monster. "She would too wouldn't she?" As for the flowers she laughs. "It could probably use the help smelling better, the Barracks that is." She laughs. "I think some of the candidates just get so tired at the end of the day that they fall into bed, clothes and dirt still on." There's a grin though for Emme's oh so subtle encouragement on the topic of sea monsters. She's got a mostly parallel base. Well if you could call it that. Stems keep breaking apparently, and she eyes the one's Emmeline is using suspiciously. "Maybe I should try a different kind of grass?" she muses, because the problem couldn't possibly be her. "Haven't really seen one, not alive anyway, they are supposed to be dangerous smart though."
Lalala indeed. Rielsath splashes her snout in the shallow stream as if to emphasize her very sea-monstery-ness, listening though her eyes are deceptively half-lidded. "Wouldn't worry about felines here. The entrance is narrow and Rielsath is not something they want to mess with - they like the wilder areas, where we go to hunt when stocks are low. Where there's typically more prey. Very dangerous. Though I'd bet on a dragon over a feline any day." She reassures the group, though it seems Rhae is more interested than fearful. "Organize something, if you think people would want to compete. Might be a good chance to show off your survival skills." Faranth knows they must have enough of those to go around. "Please tell me you've washed, so I don't have to toss you in the stream." She nudges the silent Khorde, grinning.
"Hauling water. Mixing the mud. Trying to find stuff in the shallow pools. Those scratchy berry bushes." Emme rattles off a few of the most mutually hated chores that always had nearly every exile grumbling. "Laundry, with those washing boards." Twitch. "Oh sure, Nat. Gather up a few thinner blades of grass and try it with that. It might be easier for the base. But, a bit more difficult on the sides." she cautions, bending the grass stems carefully on the left and right of the base grid to show the others the next step. She also giggles at the splashing Rielsath does in the stream. "Maybe bringing the exile kids out to the lake shore, or the stream here, would be nice for them. Give them a little taste of home."
Rhaelyn snickers quietly, the wrap around the stems quickly forming a basket-weave type pattern to hold the bundle together. "I think I's like to see one of those felines. I heard some of the herders talk about how the craft hall raises them." Obviously those aren't the same as the 'wild' ones, but the exile doesn't know that. "Or a firelizard." Jealousy hangs in her tone about the a particular firelizard addition in their ranks. "I wish I could have seen them at the gather." Her voice fades after that bit of longing. Only reflections about their old life draw her attention back to the others, "Don't forget dish-washing in that freezing cold stream. So, do you think the lake has enough fish in it for a fishing contest? I bet many of our old fishermen would be game for that. Prize for the biggest catch?"
Khorde squints up as he's nudged, staring owlish at Lujayn for a moment too long. Then: "Oh. Me? I take baths!" It's a belated protest. "They'd kick me out of the infirmary otherwise," almost belated. What? Ahem. His gaze peers over to Rielsath for another squinty moment, and half his current line of weaving unravels due to his inattention. An appropriate exile curse later, "You guys can do all that stuff. I'm not mixing up patch-mud ever again. Ever." His tongue is stuck between his teeth for a particularly sensitive moment in his weaving, base going to sides.
There's a giggle for the dragon's antics, though at the thought of a competition the smith grins. "It would be fun wouldn't it? People could learn a little bit about what it was like on the island too from it." See fun and educational, can't go wrong right? She nods at Emme's instructions though and at least /tries/ to handle the stalks a little more delicately. She's having more success at least with the thinner stems. At mention of kids Nat shoots a glance to Rhaelyn. "Speaking of which I have all those stuffed toys and blankets now, I thought maybe you'd help me deliver them?" There's a little grin for Rhaelyn. "Firelizards can be such a nuisance though. Although, they could be useful, they can get into tiny spaces that dragons can't. . . I'd need to test the heat of the flame though. . ." She trails off sounding a bit like a loon. Lujayn may be the only one who knows what the candidate is talking about there. There's a giggle for the expression on Khorde's face too as he weaves.
"You can take them to the lake anytime, that's in the Weyr," Lujayn reasons, "Though I don't know how many of us it would take to bring them all here." Meaning, chase after, babysit, and generally make sure no one gets swallowed by the grass that reaches even her waist in some places. "Firelizards hang around the Weyr too, but they're more common where it's warmer. I have one or two, if they ever show up I'll coax 'em out to meet you, how about." Lu offers. "A lot of people see them as more nuisance than anything helpful - but maybe they'd carry water for you, even if mixing mud is beyond them. I don't blame you for that one." She sighs in agreement with Khorde, stalks of grass unraveling here and there as she fails to pull them tightly enough. "Well, maybe I'll get it right eventually." Needing to stretch her legs, the rider sets the amateur basket aside to stand and head a few steps up the hill. All that talk of felines has belatedly set her alarm perimeters ringing.
Emmeline smirks at the idea of hauling water and mixing mud being fun. "Only fun if you're not doing it because you have to." she decides, gesturing over towards Khorde with her chin. "Most of us feel like that about the chores we were regularly assigned I daresay. Me, I used to keep every last one of the kids under 12 turns in line during the day. Later on, I had Seani's help. And then it was washing dishes or doing laundry." Now the idea of a fishing contest, that gets a nod. "I bet they would like that. So long as we didn't have to eat the fish later. I'll be happy if I never have to eat a charred fish fillet again. Ever." The harper picks up her own basket at that point, working to try and build up the sides so that she can finally set her little gathering of flowers in it.
"I don't think -I- want to do much of the old island chores. Dirty, hard work. But weaving baskets? That's soothing. So long as it doesn't need to be waterproof or it's not freezing cold so your joints ache with every twist." A little shudder passes over Rhae at the memory of those awful days. "I agree about the fish eating, but some of the islanders don't like mainland food." She says it like they're crazy. Almost as crazy as Nathalia talking about fire like that. "Auh...ok." She watches the smith-candidate with a guarded look that soon becomes crestfallen when the subject of passing out gifts comes up, "Can't you and Sibella do that?" Please? Another few loops of the grass extend the wrapper up a bit more. As for the goldrider having firelizards? "I would like to meet yours. I guess you can't just call them?"
"Who couldn't like bread?" Khorde's obviously a HUGE fan, by the aghast emotion in his voice. "And butter?" Butter's even BETTER. "And bacon?" He just died and went to hypothetical heaven. He does quiet down, though, keeping an eye on Emmeline and Lujayn and Rhaelyn and Nathalia for the most part... maybe. It becomes obvious how much attention he's paying when his basket droops over his face and a rattling, low, intermittent snore comes from his person. Warm rock + pretty scented air + Khorde = sleep, obviously.
There's a widening of the eyes at Emmeline's mention of the islander version of nursery duty. "I don't think I could do that If I tried, it's hard enough keeping an eye on them with Nannies around to laugh at me." She nods though at mention of contests, "That might satisfy some of them then, throw back the ones that won't be eaten, and the ones who want fish can have it." She notes. For Rhaelyn there is an eyeroll. "Sibella can help with the mainland kids, but I don't know the island kids all that well. Maybe you an Elgin could do it together?" She suggests. Eyeing the snoring male with amusement. Her not quite basket looks to be about done, well it will hold her flowers least ways. It isn't very pretty at all. "Shells this would be easier with metal. . ." she mutters.
Lujayn shakes her head. "Not from out here. Sometimes Rielsath can find them, but I doubt they'll be hanging around nearby." Arms crossed, she surveys the meadow aaaall the way to the more level bottom where some trees have taken root, the stream seems to pool into something shallow and a good deal clearer than the weyrbowl's lake. She steals a quiet moment to just breathe, taking in the cool breeze and the ever-lengthening shadows over their sunny meadow getaway, the trickling stream in the background and soft conversation below. Plus snores, of course. "Weaving with metal?" She's skeptical. "Are you sure about that, Nat?"
A few more tucks of the grass-ends and she finishes the bouquet arrangement. Holding it out like a bride, Rhaelyn smiles at the finished product. Oh, but there's something sneaky about that look. Short lived though, she quickly puts the bundle behind her to be safe and lounges over on her side in the flattered patch. There's silent disappointment for the inability to summon the firelizards but she says nothing on that topic now. Less skeptical than Lujayn about the metal weaving, Rhae is curious, "What good would weaving metal do?"
Nat nods grinning at Lujayn. "It could be done, It would have to be thin strips, copper or bronze, maybe even tin, to do it without heat. Or I could pull wire, and weave that way." There's excitement in her voice at talk of her craft, Oh yes, the kinds of innovative projects that would force the craft hall to take notice, or call her a nut case. "Well I imagine you could make a strong net type thing with it, or a mesh to hold tea leaves, could even use it to keep insects out of open doors or windows. It would last longer than cloth too usually." Oh no she's on a roll now. "Could have jewelry applications too. I bet some holders would pay for a fancy looking basket."
Lujayn is close enough to lean against Rielsath, sitting again to survey the meadow and listen sleepily to the girls' discussion. She doesn't look far from Khorde's state, but there's a sea monster on her side to keep her awake - no chance of runaways here.
Where: Mountain Meadow, High Reaches Weyr
When: Day 4, month 6, turn 26
Lujayn escorts a few people outside of the Weyr for some fresh air. General relaxation ensues. Weaving baskets, picking flowers, rock climbing. Rielsath is a KRAKEN FROM THE SEA, ARRRGH-
\A long, broad valley sandwiched between taller mountain peaks, its lush grasses stand at waist height in the summertime and sway gently in the constant breeze, dying back only in early winter. In spring, the meadow comes alive, turning the ocean of green into a sea of reds, blues, yellows and oranges as tiny flowers burst into bloom. At dawn and dusk, small herds of wild herbivores might be seen at the end of the valley as shadowy shapes who keep well away from visitors. Winding along the edge of the mountain base as it follows a downward slope, a small stream provides clear, fresh water from the snow-capped peaks.
The shadows are growing longer across a meadow nestled in a valley near to High Reaches, though the time can't be much past noon. Lujayn is busily unbuckling straps from an impatient Rielsath, one eye on the mixed group she's brought with her for a breath of fresh, flowery air. It's warm and comfortable, the colors of wildflowers apparent at every turn. Lu grins happily as her dragon moves into one of the mountainous shadows to loll with a contented croon, then turning to her 'cargo.' "I thought you'd like this spot. I used to come here a lot - good to see it hasn't changed much."
Once her feet can touch the glorious ground again, Emme looks near ready to kiss the ground. Except, she doesn't. Instead her face just lights up at the abundance of color that springs in every direction. "-Wow-." Yes, it's another exile moment. And she is, temporarily at least, rooted in place trying to decide just which way to skip first. "I hear a stream. Is there a stream too?"
Half-tumbling from his unprofessional dismount, Khorde takes a step or four to put himself to rights. The gangly Healer's gofur takes a deep breath, almost belated, inhaling the soft grace of flower-scented air. He moves off to wander, a child's enthusiasm and articulated wonder softening the harsh lines of his face. There's a somewhat-distracted grin back to Lujayn, as infectious as anything that he could ever offer, but Emme's observation of possible-water has him swerving back towards his frenemy with a craning view here and there, trying to spy the so-called stream.
Nat seems a little sad to be on the ground again, but there's a contented sigh for the scene that rolls on ahead. "Wow Lujayn, I really can't thank you enough for inviting me." It certainly beat cleaning up more messes left over from dragon meals well at least it smelled prettier anyway. She watches the Islanders with a muted amusement, realizing this was probably the first time they had really seen a whole lot out side the weyr. A soft smile remains on her lips as she studies the meadow.
"Over by the rocks, closer to the mountains," Lujayn confirms, more interested in clambering up the rough slope at the moment. The flowers will always be there, and they even crop up from time to time amongst the rocks that give purchase for attaining that beautiful view of her meadow. "Figured since there's a while until the next gather, you'd appreciate a change of scenery. I know I do." She admits readily, pausing to seat herself on a sun-warmed rock. "It feels so far away.. if you can forget the mountains." As she looks over her shoulder to eye the Reaches' signature spires, the rider relaxes visibly. "I made sure you had your chores done first, don't worry about that," She tacks on with an air of responsibility. "I'd be in hot water if we left carcasses lying around or firestone waiting to be sorted."
Emmeline even spares a grin for Khorde when he meanders her way to try and spot the stream; he's taller, so she waits for his assessment until Lujayn makes mention of where it is. And then, nudges her cohort into following the goldrider up the slope as she does the same. Having spent most of their short lives outdoors, perhaps it's a balm for the little harper to get a chance to roam free in a sense. She's not even babbling! Just smiling and seeming rather peaceful as warmed rocks are reached and she can squint against the sun to see closer to the rocks. And, obviously, pick some flowers. At least one of which finds its way behind an ear.
"Oh." Khorde's comment follows after Emmeline's nudge -- he tags behind Lujayn, falling into the rhythm of tackling the rocky terrain with a certain deft experience in his movement. These aren't even wet with water! Child's play. He still cranes his neck about here and there as if looking for the stated stream, but -- obviously /he's/ not finding it. "It's so peaceful up here." He sprawls nearby the goldrider's location, loosing a grousy grumble as a chunk of rock digs into his lower back. He fishes it out and tries the sprawl again, this time basking. "Smells better'n the infirmary, that's for sure." Not that Khorde doesn't love his job -- he even looks guilty after he says it, shading his gaze around at the girls as if to ascertain if any of them, y'know, actually heard that.
Nat offers a laugh. "True enough, seems like there's always something to be done around the place. Certainly gives you an appreciation for all the people who do the work when there aren't candidates about." While the rocks seem like an interesting challenge, the smith seems content where she is at the moment, and plops down in the flowers, stretching. Sure there will be grass stains later but a little dirt and green never hurt anyone. She watches the two Islanders and laughs at Khorde's statement about the infirmary smells.
Rielsath cranes her neck to watch the progress of three little humans towards her mountainside retreat before settling quietly, of a similar mind to simply be, to enjoy and relax. "I remember /that/," She replies emphatically to Khorde's statement. "Brewing numbweed? No thanks," Not particularly concerned with complaints at this point - it would take an odd character to prefer chores to this place. "With the eggs, we have to stay close to the Weyr. Luckily there's no huge journey needed to find a place like this." She collects a few small pebbles in her hand, letting them skitter one by one into the tall grasses. Another silent moment follows, watching Emmeline's flowers, Nat's quiet observations and the sprawling of Khorde. There aren't many places to be found where one can loll around on the ground - unless you're a dragon, in which case the world is open for such a purpose.
Her lips quirk at Khorde's infirmary complaint, but Emme makes no comment about it at all. If anything, she seems to agree with the sentiment, a quiet noise from the back of her throat having to suffice as agreement there. And once she's plucked flowers of every color she can find nearby she sets them down on a flat spot, moving next towards tall grass to collect a those few that meet her apparent requirements. "I still haven't seen them. The eggs, that is. Except for once at the beginning. How do they look now?" she wonders, twisting and bending a few stalks of grass into a pattern that looks like weaving.
Indulgent, Khorde rolls on the warmth of the rock with a blissful expression about his face. So idyllic. Even Nathalia laughing at him doesn't break his good mood ... for now. "Yeah, numbweed..." His voice trails off, as if he's particularly reticent regarding anything negative in this moment in time. "Well, /I/ could stay out here." He may or may not shoot Emmeline a dark look; okay, so maybe negativity only extends to *certain* things. Like candidates. Entitled bit.. "Hard, I'd think," he can't help but quip, before rolling off as if in anticipation of some sort of blow aimed in his direction.
"They are getting close to /hatching/ aren't they?" Nathalia asks with a small sigh, picking a few flowers. She glances up to Emmeline a sad look on her face, At Khorde's comment she nods. "Yeah pretty much. Did you get to pick a favorite when you did get to see them?" It was not fair that they could not egg watch, but there was nothing to change it either. Such thoughts though did not seem to fit in such a place of serenity. She offers a shrug "I wonder if I would be able to get a few bits of those shells for some jewelry pieces." She muses.
"I haven't been a regular visitor to the galleries," Lujayn sighs, almost as wistful as a candidate. "You've got that part right, Khorde. They'll be looking more like real eggs now than at the beginning, with colors and shells as hard as you please." Rest time over, she continues the easy climb with a nod to Nathalia. "The dragonhealers have been giving positive reports." She watches Emmeline weave the grass as she passes with a curious gaze, straying closer to get a better look to see. "You're sure you want to be a Harper? That looks great."
Emmeline gives Khorde a rude gesture of course; she doesn't bother to wait and see if she got a dark look. The tone of his voice says he deserves it regardless. And she is always willing to oblige! "I remember seeing a couple I thought were fascinating. Don't think I could describe them now cause it's been so long." she admits, sounding a bit sheepish. Her grass weaving, if it could really be called weaving in the Pernese form of the word, appears to be taking on the shape of a basket by the time Lujayn asks about it; as swift and easy as Khorde was with climbing, she is with this. "Hmm? Oh! This is one of the things I had to teach the kids. But we used reeds for it. We all know how to do this. And with grass it's *so* much easier. You want one? I was just going to use it to hold the flowers."
"I'd think they'd have to be," Khorde replies to Nathalia's close-to-hatching comment. "It's been... forever." For-ev-er. A lifetime, in Khorde-lingo. The sulky boy doesn't seem likely to carry on his sulk further, though, ignoring the question of favorite-egg instead to peer over at Emmeline's weaving with a snort. "A baby could do that." See? She even said it herself! He plucks a few strands nearby, and starts a spiral himself, surprisingly slender fingers moving with deft motion. Showing off? Khorde? /Never/. He obviously doesn't see what retort he's set himself up perfectly for.
There's a smile for the dragon healer's reports at least. "That's good, I know everyone's worried, I think I heard the Weyr leader say there won't be any egg touching either." The smith notes. She smiles looking over to the Harper's weaving, and just studies Khorde a moment when he speaks. "Would you mind showing me how?" the girl asks the pair in a friendly tone. "Never did any weaving before. It would be a neat thing to try." She may even try it with metal later who knows?
Lujayn has to chuckle at the rivalry, watching the pair of basket-weavers exchange amicable insults. "If it's as easy as you say, maybe you could teach me instead." Lu offers to either of them at almost the same moment as Nathalia, venturing easily into the wild grasses to find long stalks of her own. "It takes forever so they don't come out looking like half-formed sea monsters," She says in jest at the old islander myth, lighthearted. "Dragons, I mean. Not baskets. Though I guess if you didn't pay attention, the basket might look something malformed.."
Rhaelyn has arrived.
"For a baby, you sure have an ugly mug." Emme replies sweetly, raising an eyebrow at Khorde when he stats weaving as well. She sees an opening, so she takes it. At least she looks amused rather then serious about the faux insult. "I don't see why we couldn't show you." The words are for both of the not-exiles, and so the Harper starts out by glancing around for an approprate piece of grass and plucks it out to show them. "The grass we need to use should be a bit thicker then most, or else it will break instead of bend with the weaving." The old sea monster myth makes her eyes sparkle, of course. "We used to take the kids out to a separate island for a campout when they get old enough, and scare them with sea monster stories. And then Xoami, or Devaki... or even Iolene sometimes would crash the party and pretend to be the sea monster."
Khorde glowers at Emme, belatedly, as if -- realizing what just happened there. The girl is too smart for her (read, KHORDE'S) own good. "Emmeline's the teacher," he states vaguely, to Lujayn and Nathalia alike, gesturing over to the Harper. "Sea only knows that one." Grumble, grumble. What? She's... she's... she's Emmeline. It's his life's duty to bitch about her. "Sea-monsters." Something that Lujayn brings Khorde back to the other conversation, and he snorts. "Shimana would like it better if they were sea-monsters, I think." Only belatedly -- /very/ belatedly -- does he guiltily look up, as if realizing what a major gaffe /that/ just was. Uh. He's dumb! He's just a sweet dumb boy! Insert vapid smile -- HERE.
There's a grin at the near synchronized question. And a mischievous look to the gold rider. Could this turn into a basket weaving competition? Who knows. At Emme's instruction though, the Smith herself starts looking for some good grasses finding a bunch of suitable stalks she drops down next to the harper, with a slight snicker for her use of wit, she's used to grumps by this point though. "I dunno Rielsath does a pretty good impression of a lake monster." She teases with a grin for Lujayn.
Four of the meadowgoers are sprawled at various points over the rocky slope of the meadow, enjoying midafternoon sun and a lesson in what sounds to be elementary basket weaving. Rielsath takes up the better part of the meadow's mountain-shaded high point, watching the group with sleepy eyes and a twitching tail, making sure no one gets lost on the pleasure outing. Lujayn compares her stalks to those Emmeline picks and decides they're thick enough, arranging them in the manner she thought she saw Emme use, all the while taking in stories of their pranks. "A role any mischievous dragon would be glad to play, the sea-monster to your screaming villagers." Going along with the joke, she folds her legs more comfortably and looks downhill to see if the rest of the party is accounted for.
It may very well only be the exiles that would even understand Khorde's gaffe there, and it certainly causes Emme to burst out laughing. Enough so that she falls back into the grass with an arm over her stomach a moment until she can pull herself back together. "Wonder if we could manage to make a sea-monster basket as gag gift for her. Oh that would be hilarious!" she decides, still giggling to herself by the time everyone sits back down with some grass to use. "Okay, first we lay out the strips in a grid pattern. Like this..." Plucking random grass just for demonstration, she starts laying out a bunch of strips vertically. And then takes more pieces, one at a time, to go over and under in an 'every other' pattern horizontally across the vertical strips.
Not unusual for Rhaelyn to slip away from the group and wander around by herself rather than insert herself into the conversation at hand. Always within the dragon's watchful eye, she picks her way through the tall grasses. In her own time she circles back to the others, her hands loaded down with various types of flowers. "Do mainlanders have stories of sea-monsters too? Other types of monsters?" Settling down she gives a smile to the others but tries not to intrude too much on the conversation at hand.
Khorde squints from Lujayn to Nathalia and back again, his expression somewhat-- dubious. Dragons, sea-monsters, /really/? Something dawns on his expression, as if maybe -- hey, dragons COULD be sea monsters, right? Maybe Shimana was *right* all along. Scary. But then Emmeline's laughing, and Khorde's sulking, and the world is as it is supposed to be. He nods absently to the returning Rhaelyn, and continues with his idle weaving -- apparently the bottom of some kind of circular grass-basket. It looks... pretty jacked.
There's lessons to be learned and friendly rivalries to be tested as Nat cracks her knuckles, grinning to Lu, "Too bad there can't be a festival or something at the weyr, to kind of remind them of home." Nat mentions thoughtfully. Well the good parts of their home anyway, the things they didn't want to forget. Maybe someday when wounds were less fresh. Following Emme's instruction she lays down the grid, accidentally snapping a few stalks her and there, discarding them ruefully when they break. "Sharding fragile things aren't they." She looks to Rhaelyn with a smile. "Well Wherries and Runners are pretty much always classed as monsters to me." She jokes, before eyeing the basket Khorde seems to be working on with a whistle of appreciation.
"Nothing so all-encompassing as sea monsters on a small island, but everyone knows to watch out for tunnelsnakes in caves and felines out in the wilds. The real monsters are enough for us, I think." Lujayn scoots to make room for Rhaelyn, "Though anyone with imagination can make up scary creatures around the campfire." She lays out her grasses carefully, speaking as she works with meticulous fingers. "The entire Weyr's going to be decorated with flowers, I think," Casting an eye over what Rhaelyn's collected in addition to the bouquets of Nat and Emme. "Or else the barracks are going to be the best-smelling room in the place." Her smile for a prank on Shimana is mild at best, having experienced some of the elder's ire firsthand. "If she hears too much of it, Ri might decide for herself to act like a sea monster for a few days. Because it would be so fun to cause general mayhem at the lake shore every time someone tried to have a swim."
Emmeline tries not to purse her lips or otherwise show signs of suppressed amusement at the most jacked circular basket -evar-, so is totally grateful (scary!) for Rhaelyn's arrival. Enough so that the other exile gets a smile and nod as a hello instead of the usual wary glance. "We had tunnelsnakes too, in the cave system." she gives a shudder for those. "But felines... I haven't ever seen one of those." Placing the sample grid out in the middle, she glances over at the others work with an encouraging smile. "Mostly the idea for this, the base, is to keep everything straight. Parallel." Having always been a huge suckup, obviously, Emme doesn't have many bad memories of Shimana's wrath. But, she -does- distinctly recall Ri's mischeivous side and it's like a dangerous little light goes off in the harper's brain. "Well now, wouldn't that be amusing to keep people on their toes." Lalalalala.
"Felines?" Rhaelyn looks up from the bundle of flowers, plucking off a few long stems of grass to wrap around the stems. "Are they fierce animals? Can you tame them like the dragons?" So, she doesn't pay too much attention to all her studies, go figure. Also a quiet, "Thank you." For the goldrider scooting over to make room for herself. Off go the sandals and she scrunches her toes into the cool grasses with obvious pleasure. Khorde's work in progress receives a small laugh but her attention shifts to the idea of more island-like activities. "I think it would be nice to have contests. Remember how hard it was to haul water...."
Khorde, the resident bitchboy, has plenty of memories of Shimana's wrath, though -- perhaps more memories of her over-the-top matchmaking. That said, in present company, he falls silent for a long moment (or five), working with idle intensity on his creation... whatever it is.
There's a peal of laughter for the thought of the gold becoming a sea monster. "She would too wouldn't she?" As for the flowers she laughs. "It could probably use the help smelling better, the Barracks that is." She laughs. "I think some of the candidates just get so tired at the end of the day that they fall into bed, clothes and dirt still on." There's a grin though for Emme's oh so subtle encouragement on the topic of sea monsters. She's got a mostly parallel base. Well if you could call it that. Stems keep breaking apparently, and she eyes the one's Emmeline is using suspiciously. "Maybe I should try a different kind of grass?" she muses, because the problem couldn't possibly be her. "Haven't really seen one, not alive anyway, they are supposed to be dangerous smart though."
Lalala indeed. Rielsath splashes her snout in the shallow stream as if to emphasize her very sea-monstery-ness, listening though her eyes are deceptively half-lidded. "Wouldn't worry about felines here. The entrance is narrow and Rielsath is not something they want to mess with - they like the wilder areas, where we go to hunt when stocks are low. Where there's typically more prey. Very dangerous. Though I'd bet on a dragon over a feline any day." She reassures the group, though it seems Rhae is more interested than fearful. "Organize something, if you think people would want to compete. Might be a good chance to show off your survival skills." Faranth knows they must have enough of those to go around. "Please tell me you've washed, so I don't have to toss you in the stream." She nudges the silent Khorde, grinning.
"Hauling water. Mixing the mud. Trying to find stuff in the shallow pools. Those scratchy berry bushes." Emme rattles off a few of the most mutually hated chores that always had nearly every exile grumbling. "Laundry, with those washing boards." Twitch. "Oh sure, Nat. Gather up a few thinner blades of grass and try it with that. It might be easier for the base. But, a bit more difficult on the sides." she cautions, bending the grass stems carefully on the left and right of the base grid to show the others the next step. She also giggles at the splashing Rielsath does in the stream. "Maybe bringing the exile kids out to the lake shore, or the stream here, would be nice for them. Give them a little taste of home."
Rhaelyn snickers quietly, the wrap around the stems quickly forming a basket-weave type pattern to hold the bundle together. "I think I's like to see one of those felines. I heard some of the herders talk about how the craft hall raises them." Obviously those aren't the same as the 'wild' ones, but the exile doesn't know that. "Or a firelizard." Jealousy hangs in her tone about the a particular firelizard addition in their ranks. "I wish I could have seen them at the gather." Her voice fades after that bit of longing. Only reflections about their old life draw her attention back to the others, "Don't forget dish-washing in that freezing cold stream. So, do you think the lake has enough fish in it for a fishing contest? I bet many of our old fishermen would be game for that. Prize for the biggest catch?"
Khorde squints up as he's nudged, staring owlish at Lujayn for a moment too long. Then: "Oh. Me? I take baths!" It's a belated protest. "They'd kick me out of the infirmary otherwise," almost belated. What? Ahem. His gaze peers over to Rielsath for another squinty moment, and half his current line of weaving unravels due to his inattention. An appropriate exile curse later, "You guys can do all that stuff. I'm not mixing up patch-mud ever again. Ever." His tongue is stuck between his teeth for a particularly sensitive moment in his weaving, base going to sides.
There's a giggle for the dragon's antics, though at the thought of a competition the smith grins. "It would be fun wouldn't it? People could learn a little bit about what it was like on the island too from it." See fun and educational, can't go wrong right? She nods at Emme's instructions though and at least /tries/ to handle the stalks a little more delicately. She's having more success at least with the thinner stems. At mention of kids Nat shoots a glance to Rhaelyn. "Speaking of which I have all those stuffed toys and blankets now, I thought maybe you'd help me deliver them?" There's a little grin for Rhaelyn. "Firelizards can be such a nuisance though. Although, they could be useful, they can get into tiny spaces that dragons can't. . . I'd need to test the heat of the flame though. . ." She trails off sounding a bit like a loon. Lujayn may be the only one who knows what the candidate is talking about there. There's a giggle for the expression on Khorde's face too as he weaves.
"You can take them to the lake anytime, that's in the Weyr," Lujayn reasons, "Though I don't know how many of us it would take to bring them all here." Meaning, chase after, babysit, and generally make sure no one gets swallowed by the grass that reaches even her waist in some places. "Firelizards hang around the Weyr too, but they're more common where it's warmer. I have one or two, if they ever show up I'll coax 'em out to meet you, how about." Lu offers. "A lot of people see them as more nuisance than anything helpful - but maybe they'd carry water for you, even if mixing mud is beyond them. I don't blame you for that one." She sighs in agreement with Khorde, stalks of grass unraveling here and there as she fails to pull them tightly enough. "Well, maybe I'll get it right eventually." Needing to stretch her legs, the rider sets the amateur basket aside to stand and head a few steps up the hill. All that talk of felines has belatedly set her alarm perimeters ringing.
Emmeline smirks at the idea of hauling water and mixing mud being fun. "Only fun if you're not doing it because you have to." she decides, gesturing over towards Khorde with her chin. "Most of us feel like that about the chores we were regularly assigned I daresay. Me, I used to keep every last one of the kids under 12 turns in line during the day. Later on, I had Seani's help. And then it was washing dishes or doing laundry." Now the idea of a fishing contest, that gets a nod. "I bet they would like that. So long as we didn't have to eat the fish later. I'll be happy if I never have to eat a charred fish fillet again. Ever." The harper picks up her own basket at that point, working to try and build up the sides so that she can finally set her little gathering of flowers in it.
"I don't think -I- want to do much of the old island chores. Dirty, hard work. But weaving baskets? That's soothing. So long as it doesn't need to be waterproof or it's not freezing cold so your joints ache with every twist." A little shudder passes over Rhae at the memory of those awful days. "I agree about the fish eating, but some of the islanders don't like mainland food." She says it like they're crazy. Almost as crazy as Nathalia talking about fire like that. "Auh...ok." She watches the smith-candidate with a guarded look that soon becomes crestfallen when the subject of passing out gifts comes up, "Can't you and Sibella do that?" Please? Another few loops of the grass extend the wrapper up a bit more. As for the goldrider having firelizards? "I would like to meet yours. I guess you can't just call them?"
"Who couldn't like bread?" Khorde's obviously a HUGE fan, by the aghast emotion in his voice. "And butter?" Butter's even BETTER. "And bacon?" He just died and went to hypothetical heaven. He does quiet down, though, keeping an eye on Emmeline and Lujayn and Rhaelyn and Nathalia for the most part... maybe. It becomes obvious how much attention he's paying when his basket droops over his face and a rattling, low, intermittent snore comes from his person. Warm rock + pretty scented air + Khorde = sleep, obviously.
There's a widening of the eyes at Emmeline's mention of the islander version of nursery duty. "I don't think I could do that If I tried, it's hard enough keeping an eye on them with Nannies around to laugh at me." She nods though at mention of contests, "That might satisfy some of them then, throw back the ones that won't be eaten, and the ones who want fish can have it." She notes. For Rhaelyn there is an eyeroll. "Sibella can help with the mainland kids, but I don't know the island kids all that well. Maybe you an Elgin could do it together?" She suggests. Eyeing the snoring male with amusement. Her not quite basket looks to be about done, well it will hold her flowers least ways. It isn't very pretty at all. "Shells this would be easier with metal. . ." she mutters.
Lujayn shakes her head. "Not from out here. Sometimes Rielsath can find them, but I doubt they'll be hanging around nearby." Arms crossed, she surveys the meadow aaaall the way to the more level bottom where some trees have taken root, the stream seems to pool into something shallow and a good deal clearer than the weyrbowl's lake. She steals a quiet moment to just breathe, taking in the cool breeze and the ever-lengthening shadows over their sunny meadow getaway, the trickling stream in the background and soft conversation below. Plus snores, of course. "Weaving with metal?" She's skeptical. "Are you sure about that, Nat?"
A few more tucks of the grass-ends and she finishes the bouquet arrangement. Holding it out like a bride, Rhaelyn smiles at the finished product. Oh, but there's something sneaky about that look. Short lived though, she quickly puts the bundle behind her to be safe and lounges over on her side in the flattered patch. There's silent disappointment for the inability to summon the firelizards but she says nothing on that topic now. Less skeptical than Lujayn about the metal weaving, Rhae is curious, "What good would weaving metal do?"
Nat nods grinning at Lujayn. "It could be done, It would have to be thin strips, copper or bronze, maybe even tin, to do it without heat. Or I could pull wire, and weave that way." There's excitement in her voice at talk of her craft, Oh yes, the kinds of innovative projects that would force the craft hall to take notice, or call her a nut case. "Well I imagine you could make a strong net type thing with it, or a mesh to hold tea leaves, could even use it to keep insects out of open doors or windows. It would last longer than cloth too usually." Oh no she's on a roll now. "Could have jewelry applications too. I bet some holders would pay for a fancy looking basket."
Lujayn is close enough to lean against Rielsath, sitting again to survey the meadow and listen sleepily to the girls' discussion. She doesn't look far from Khorde's state, but there's a sea monster on her side to keep her awake - no chance of runaways here.