[Log] A Snippet with Yronica
Who: R'dur, Yronica
When: Day 26, Month 5, Turn 14
Where: Bowl, Telgar Weyr
What: R'dur has a brief conversation with Yronica.
Central Bowl, Telgar Weyr
A stony field is the center of this great caldera, the size of which is unmatched at any other Weyr--for the whole complement of all the wings at Telgar could rest comfortably within its towering cliffs. Shaped in a perfect oval, the rock walls seem ideal for keeping the usual chill winds stirring about. The ground is mostly made of pebbles and rocks, some hued the milky shades of old quartz, though there are patches where softer dirt and even trees sprout up from the ground. To the south, the bowl opens onto the living caverns and the Weyrleaders' quarters; the immense entrance to the hatching grounds lies to the northwest. Heading southwest will lead one back out into the rocky mountain ranges around Telgar's protective walls. Dragons may be seen, relaxing or fresh from feeding, to the north, as well as the soft lapping sounds of Telgar's lake touching the sandy shore. The weyrling barracks, always aflutter with activity, are to the direct west. The meadow near the lake is strewn with wild flowers, like little stars of pink, yellow, and white. The ground by the the barracks is quite muddy.
Obvious exits:
Weyrling Barracks Southern Bowl Lake Shore Hatching Cavern Feeding Grounds Runner Pasture Weyr Entrance
It's getting close to dinner time, and R'dur look to be heading that way, but the growing numbers of people doing likewise seem to dissuade him from following through on that aim. Instead, he lingers by Alidaeth at one side of the bowl, glancing to the living cavern and frowning. "No, I don't really feel like getting into the middle of that today," he admits, with a shake of his head to the brown. "We'll wait a bit; there's no hurry. Why don't you go eat instead??"
Better-suited to such crowded company, Yronica has anyway made some effort to avoid the worst of the dinner crush herself. She works her way upstream through the people heading into the caverns, zigging and zagging out of the way of riders and other folk who rank her and other folk who don't. Using the corner of her pinky fingernail, she picks her teeth clean as she moves through people, finally escaping them by likely chance toward the part of the bowl now taken up by a brown and his waiting-for-dinner rider. "Sir," the girl calls out, cheery-like, and should probably just keep going. But she must have overheard. She glances toward the feeding grounds, then at the brown, and in all this looking here and there comes to a casual stop and leans into one hip. Spectator-ly.
It takes a moment, and a nudge from Alidaeth, for R'dur to realize that he's the sir in question this time. Blinking, he glances around at Yronica, and then flashes a smile at her, relaxing. "Oh, evening," he offers. "Don't mind us, really. Er, how are you?" The watching makes him blush a little, of course, though Alidaeth seems undaunted--and unhungry enough that he loiters, too, apparently to watch as much as Yronica stops to watch him.
Yronica beams, the power of her smile conveyed in large part by puffed curvy cheeks that all but obscure her eyes. "Oh, I'm doing very well, sir, can't you tell?" There must be something to this remark. She executes a little turn, skirts flaring above the tops of her boots, and laughs. She re-aims her gaze up at Alidaeth and adds, "Don't let me distract you," more to the brown than to his rider. R'dur gets instead a bob of head and, "And you, sir?"
R'dur doesn't seem to know what to make of Yronica's twirling, his head tilting as he watches her. "Um. I suppose?" he ventures an answer to her first question. "I mean, yes. I can, I'm sure?" He doesn't sound it, though, but he smiles anyway, if not quite so big as the girl. Alidaeth chuffs at her, head lowering to take a better look, and R'dur gives him a look. "Don't mind him. He's being difficult. I'm well, though; fairly well I suppose. Did you come from inside? Was it bad yet?" He shoots another glance around to the living cavern, then to Yronica again.
The laundry-girl's head tips to the side, as if to show off her neck for the dragon's inspection. She does not otherwise 'mind' the dragon, save for with a certain smug bemusedness that reduces only slightly the intensity of her grin. "Bad, sir?" Blink, guileless. One hand, the one with the fingernail used as toothpick, slides across the folds of her skirts, maybe to be dried there. "Not very? The soup's good and hot today." Blink.
R'dur does not look entirely convinced by Yronica's answer; his brows knit but he manages to pull attention from the dinner rush at the living cavern to her again, with an apologetic glance. "Ah. Well, that's good, at least. The soup, I mean. About the soup. I expect, though," he admits, ducking his head with a half-grin, "your definition of a bad crowd doesn't quite fit mine."
"Oh, a bad _crowd_, sir, that'd be different." There's the least bit of emphasis on the 'sir,' though it could be no more than part of the natural rhythm of the twinkling humor with which Yronica seems to be treating the Weyrsecond. "No riots, no thrown food, nobody singing from a slump under the table, no rowdy bronzeriders plowing through like stampeding cattle." Pause. "Yet," she allows, cheerfully, with a glance at R'dur's brown, then a slight roll of eyes skyward. "Just your ordinary dinner crowd so far as I noticed, sir."
"Do we... normally have that sort of stuff?" Nevermind how long R'dur has been eating dinner at Telgar, he sounds quite worried about the possibility Yronica's 'yet' raises. Alidaeth just rumbles, sounding amused now as R'dur secondguesses his plans further. R'dur bites his lip a moment, then nods. "Well. Maybe if I hurry, I can be in and out before anything like that gets started," he decides finally. "Thanks. I'll see you later, I suppose." Then, he's off, boldly (for him, at least) heading into the living cavern.