Between Lesson
Northwest Bowl - Ista Weyr
The bright, intense light of mid-day cascades over the corral's fences to the west. To the southeast, the bowl widens out as it approaches the far side of towering black rock and the high fingers, five jutting peaks, high above. The black and gray rock of the bowl is devoid of any green or colour, except for the hundreds of dragons seen on ledges all along the Weyr walls. The Weyrling Barracks to the north open wide in a double-arch.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. This morning, clouds interrupt the sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the Weyr.
Contents:
Aath
T'mic
Lieryth heads out of the weyrling barracks.
Lieryth has arrived.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath reaches out for the young gold, her mind shimmering in gleeful anticipation. << Are you ready? T'mic says it is time, if you are ready. >>
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth first projects her usual warmth that fits perfectly with Ista's current weather of sticky heat, but it's soon snuffed out as realization dawns on the gold. <>
Mid-afternoon and it's a gloriously soggy day on the island. A storm blew through earlier leaving all damp and sticky, but besides a light wind the weather is - for now - mild. T'mic waits out in the bowl, pacing back and forth along Aath's side. The green watches him with veiled amusement, every now and again nuzzling at her leg to dislodge an invisible bit of fluff.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath sparkles brightly. << Oh yes, just so! You'll do -ever- so well, I'm sure! >>
Fayre and Lieryth appear from the direction of the barracks and, despite the heat and stickiness, the young weyrling's face is paler than usual. A chill shudders through her body as Fayre nears T'mic and Aath; from the wetness of the bowl, or fear? Either way, she gives a curt nod towards the more experienced dragonriding pair. Her only words are a simple greeting, "Afternoon, sir."
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth allows herself to send a minishower of sparkles back at Aath. <>
"Afternoon, weyrling," Mic returns, studying her face after exchanging salutes. "You feeling all right? Nerves are one thing, actually being sick is another. Lieryth says she's ready, but if you can't hold a visualization..."
Fayre pats her stomach and gives a reassuring shake of the head. "Don't worry. After working in the kitchens so long, I can always hold down my food. An' I'm just as ready as Lieryth. She just looks all shiny and pretty, while I'm all pale." The weyrling attempts a somewhat confident smile, though her hands are noticeably shaking. To hide that, she's quick to clasp her hands behind her back.
T'mic gives a short little laugh. "If you're sure, I trust you." He jerks his head toward the eager gold and adds, "Up you go, then. Full straps this time - you don't need to worry about anything else. Then head up and circle. I know you've been learning your images, so... think about Fort Weyr. Have her give Aath a visual; if it's good, we'll let you go through. We'll be right behind you, so don't worry, a'right?"
Fayre leans in a little closer to T'mic as he runs through the instructions and she nods at various intervals. "Fort, eh? Sounds good. Lie' and I have been lookin' forward to travelin' someday, so it'll be nice to get past the icky cold bits and onto the new locations." Her brief small talk seems to calm her down some and, after a deep breath, she hoists herself up onto her dragon. "Boy, I can't wait to climb up when she's fully grown, what with my height an' all." She calls down to T'mic, sarcasm dripping in her tone. "Up we go, then." After a pat from her rider, Lieryth tenses her legs and launches into the air--with just a bit of a slip due to the wet stone of the bowl.
Below, T'mic climbs up onto Aath's neck.
Below, T'mic has left.
You rise into the air.
Lower Bowl Sky -- Ista Weyr
The bright Istan daylight glimmers from flecks of mica in the black stone of the Weyr walls. Here, only thirty meters above the bowl floor, you can see the dark spires of the Weyr loom high above you to the east, like five dragon-claws clutching toward the sky. The blue water of the bay glimmers brightly beyond the verdant plateau to the west, and you can see firelizards riding the infamous Istan updrafts against the sky. To the east, you see the great gaping opening of the Hatching Grounds, and to the southeast is constant activity near the entrance to Lower Caverns.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. This morning, clouds interrupt the sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the Weyr.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath warns, her diamonds dimming, << Careful! >>
Below, Aath launches up from the ground.
Below, Aath has arrived.
Below, Aath is quick behind the young gold and climbs a length above her before settling into position just trailing her. Mic calls down, "Have her give us the visualization when you're ready!" then settles back into his straps and pulls down his goggles.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth keeps a flickering flame going in her mind, though she mostly focuses on sending a clear image of the sky above Fort's bowl to Aath. <>
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath accepts the image without words, withdraws from the gold's mind with only sparkles to keep her company. After a few moments - probably no more than half a minute, all told - she returns. Brightly, << That is right! Lieryth, I -knew- you could do this. You're just ever so clever about things like this. T'mic says you may go *between* when you are ready. >>
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth's flame burns brighter at the compliment and approval, though the gold is careful to maintain focus on her image. <>
Behind Fayre's goggles are fiercely narrowed chestnut eyes; the result of the weyrling's fierce concentration on her visualization. She waves widely towards T'mic, indicating she's heard his instructions. Then she's tightly clenching Lieryth's straps, and the two vanish *between*.
Below, Lieryth disappears into Between.
Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!
You suddenly emerge...
Sky Above Fort Weyr
On a clear day, from this height, you can see for miles. Below you, Fort Weyr is spread out in the bowl of the ancient volcano, the jagged "Tooth Crag" dominating the northeast rim. At the end of the southwest corner, you can see where an ancient landslide has upset the Bowl's natural symmetry.
The living caverns and weyrling barracks are straight down in the center of the bowl. In the northeastern bowl are the Weyrleader's weyrs, council room, queens weyrs and the bubble of the hatching grounds. In the southwestern bowl is the grassy plain of the feeding ground and the shimmer of the weyr's lake.
Far below you are the Center of the Bowl, the opening to the Lower Caverns, and the Weyrling Barracks. Down to the northeast are the Weyrleader's complex, the Junior Queen's Weyrs, and the Hatching Grounds. To the southwest are the grassy plain of the Feeding Grounds and the shimmer of Fort Weyr's lake.
Below, Lieryth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Below, The Watch Dragon announces the arrival of Gold Lieryth and Fayre from Ista Weyr.
Below, Aath has arrived.
Below, Aath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Below, The Watch Dragon announces the arrival of Green Aath and T'mic from Ista Weyr.
Below, Aath blinks in, as promised, bare seconds behind the gold. There's a tense heartbeat while T'mic searches out his charge, and then the air is full with the yells and single bugle from he and his green. "Great!" Mic finally manages, waves for them to land. "Down you go - great job!"
Fayre looks around wildly as she appears from the coldness of *between*, as if she can't quite believe she's really there. Realization quickly dawns and the weyrling begins to clap enthusiastically, calling over to T'mic, "Hey! I didn't die! That darkness sure is somethin'." Lieryth politely rumbles in reply to Aath, but it's a far cry from a triumphant bugle. The gold circles down towards the ground of the bowl, crooning a greeting to the watchdragon as she goes.
Lieryth> I bespoke Aath with << Oooh, I do not like *between* very much, dear Aath. It is too cold for me. But I suppose it is part of our duty, and that is important. I will bear with it.>> >>
Below, Aath spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing.
Below, Aath has left.
You spiral down to the ground, and backwing to a landing.
You climb down from Lieryth's neck.
Center of the Fort Weyr Bowl
The Bowl of Fort Weyr, a large, featureless plain surrounded by steep mountain cliffs, stretches out around you. It is approximately oval in shape, about 2700 meters along the long axis running southwest to northeast, and about half that distance across the short axis. You stand in its approximate center. The soil of the bowl is somewhat sandy.
To the northwest is the large cavern used for the Weyrling barracks. To the west is the fenced off area where the Weyr's herds are kept, and the lake shore is to the southwest. To the northeast can be seen the ledges for the junior queens and the weyrleaders. The large entrance to the Hatching Grounds can also be seen to the northeast and to the east are the Lower Caverns.
Contents:
T'mic
Lieryth
Aath
Arlyth
Aath leads the way to a landing in the bowl, lands daintily with her wings flared back. Mic hops off and watches Lieryth's landing with shaded eyes. "How was it?" he calls over as soon as he can be heard. "You good?"
Fayre dismounts Lieryth with notably less grace than T'mic--she'll get used to it, sometime. "It was..." She rubs her hands up and down her riding leathers as she shudders again. "Y'know. Cold. Everyone tells you it will be, but...Whoosh! You're just suddenly gone and it's like you'll never be warm again." Her gaze shifts over to Lieryth and a small grimace tugs on her mouth. "Doesn't fit with Lie' too well. She likes the sun. But I figure it gets easier after the first time, eh?"
T'mic grins and leaves Aath behind to cross over to Fayre. "Yeah, s'colder than most anything. Makes the 'Reaches feel like home." He gives Fort's bowl a considering, almost proprietary once-over, then folds his arms and studies the goldrider. "Once you've done it, you get used to it, yeah. You always have to make sure she has a good visualization before you go, though. Don't rush it, either - better to take extra time before you go and be /sure/ you know where you're gone."
"Oh, yeah. Better to take an extra minute than end up stuck in the cold forever or in a rock or somethin' like that." Fayre responds with a sad shake of her head. She shuffles slightly away from Lieryth and leans towards T'mic to whisper in a soft voice, "It makes me a bit sad, knowin' she'll end up there forever someday, y'know? When she loves the sticky heat of Ista so much an' all." But she sets aside her worries for now and begins to scan the bowl with interest. She suddenly laughs, "To be honest, their bowl is a bit plain, ain't it? But isn't a clutchsire of ours around here? I forget his name. Rode a brown, caught Nolee's dragon, right?"
T'mic says "Exactly. --Huh? Shells, Fayre - not for turns and turns. Don't even think about it, right? Give your girl her time in the sun before you send her *between* forever!" He looks away to signal the end of -that- particular conversation, though his eyes return to Fayre quick enough. "Yeah, it is - and good memory. Jekzith. A brown. P'draig's the Weyrlingmaster here." Before she can ask he adds, "Aath already tried to contact him, but he's off somewhere. Flying, probably.""
Fayre waves her hand dismissively and offers up a small, polite smile. "Aww, I was just musing, sir. I don't get too fretful about such things, so don't worry." She shrugs, her smile turning a bit sheepish. "Sorry." Her gaze lifts towards the sky and she shields her eyes to search the air, as if she might just see a certain brown dragon flying around up there. "Ah. Are you two still friends, then? Must be handy to collaborate on teaching ideas and the like, eh?" She bobs her head and her smile widens. "Not that you and Aath need any tips." A little flattery never hurt anyone!
"Uh," Mic says about his friendship, follows her gaze to the sky. "Lovers, actually, but yeah. He's been doing this ten turns or more. I pick his brain all the time. Wish he was here - I think you'd really like him. I'm sure he'd have nothing but good to say about you and Lieryth." He returns her smile with a wry one of his own, knowing. "You say that -now-, but I still don't grade your exams, Fayre. That's all Q'vek!"
Fayre's eyes widen--nay, bulge!--at that juicy tidbit of gossip and she shoots T'mic a knowing smile. "Well, ain't that interestin'. Good thing he ended up in Ista then, eh? So that you two could meet." She scratches the back of her head sheepishly, even scuffling her foot against the sandy floor of the bowl shyly. "Aww! Well thanks, sir. Have a feeling he has better things to say about you, though." Winkwink! "I'll be sure to start butterin' him up too, then. Q'vek, that is. Know any compliments he likes gettin' in particular?"
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth seems to have been listening in on the riders' conversation and her mindvoice is happy and warm, like the hot bubbles of the water in the bathing caverns. <>
Above the center of the bowl, Jekzith spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing.
Jekzith has arrived.
P'draig climbs down from Jekzith's neck.
P'draig has arrived.
"Lucky for somebody, yeah," the greenrider drawls, his eyes twinkling. "And nah, what the Weyrlingmaster does and doesn't like is for me to know and you to find out. He gives -you- lot chores when you mess up; what do you think he'd do to /me/?!" He and Fayre are standing near Lieryth, chatting; Aath sprawls in the sun a short distance away, her tail flicking against the floor.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath drops her voice conspiratorially. << Goodness, yes. -Ever- so often. Oooh, there's Jekzith! Isn't he just so handsome? >>
"Tie you up and tickle your feet with a wherry's feather until you cry?" Fayre guesses with a grin, her soft brown eyes twinkling right back at T'mic. The shadow of a dragon above catches her eye and she looks upwards. The sight of brown hide widens her grin some, "Well, wouldn'tcha know it. No wonder you picked Fort to go to, eh?"
P'draig slides down Jekzith's shoulder, sunny smile on his face for T'mic. He doffs riding cap and stuffs it in his pocket, loosens up his jacket and without preamble strides over to the Istan greenrider to sling an arm around him and kiss his cheek. "Fort's duties to Ista and her queens, especially the lovely one sitting in the Bowl," he says jovially. "And that's what I'd do to him, can't speak for Q'vek," Paddy announces further with humor twinkling in his eyes. "P'draig, Fort's Weyrlingmaster. Well met Fayre," he leans over to offer a hand to the Weyrling. Of course he knows who she is, even if he hadn't been at the Hatching.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth responds with lighthearted rolling waves of heat. <>
T'mic says "Afternoon, Paddy," and exchanges a demure peck on the cheek with the brownrider, adding a grin for Fayre. See? "Shells, Paddy, don't give away a Weyrlingmaster's secrets! -That's Jekzith," he adds with a nod to the brown, "And Lieryth, of course."
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath proclaims airily, << Oh, /loads/ of times. >> Or once. Twice? She doesn't remember clearly. << He flies almost as well as I do. >> A beat. << Maybe -almost- as well as you, too. >>
Fayre beams at the happy reunion, her face as shining as her dragon's hide. "Well met, sir! And Ista's duties in return." After she shakes the Weyrlingmaster's hand and salutes him, she shoves her hands in her pockets and bounces on the balls of her feet. "Ah, it's always nice to see happy people. And Lieryth thanks ya for the compliment, and thinks Jekzith is quite the handsome dragon himself." Her eyebrows waggle mischievously and she glances towards the opening to the caverns. "How about I grab something to eat while you two and the dragons chat?"
"What secrets?" Paddy deadpans and winks at Mic and nods about the dragons. "Thanks Fayre, on his behalf and my own. I'm biased of course. Think he's the handsomest, but not everyone agrees," P'draig jokes further and keeps that arm right where he left it around Mic. "Oh, late lunch?" he asks politely as Fayre mentions needing to eat.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth rumbles cheerfully and her voice bubbles faster, caught up in all the gossip. <>
"Early supper," Mic corrects, nodding at Fayre. "Sure. We'll probably be right behind you. Otherwise, Aath'll let Lieryth know when it's time to leave. Remember your manners, a'right?"
Fayre's eyes widen doefully. "Manners? How could you ever think otherwise about little ol' me?" She bats her eyelashes innocently before dropping the guise and breaking out into a grin. "Sounds good, sir. Pleasure meeting you again, Weyrlingmaster! Hope to see you in the Sandbar one of these days." A salute for each of the senior riders and then she's off into the caverns to poke her way around until she finds food.
"Time difference," Paddy replies, smacking his forehead lightly with one hand and nods. "Enjoy then Fayre, and good to see you again. Congratulations again on your Impression and on learning Between!" As the goldrider moves off, P'draig shoots T'mic another amused look. "Still throws me sometimes hearing you tell someone to remember their manners."
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath sparkles happily, like a jewel box. << Oh yes. >>
The bright, intense light of mid-day cascades over the corral's fences to the west. To the southeast, the bowl widens out as it approaches the far side of towering black rock and the high fingers, five jutting peaks, high above. The black and gray rock of the bowl is devoid of any green or colour, except for the hundreds of dragons seen on ledges all along the Weyr walls. The Weyrling Barracks to the north open wide in a double-arch.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. This morning, clouds interrupt the sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the Weyr.
Contents:
Aath
T'mic
Lieryth heads out of the weyrling barracks.
Lieryth has arrived.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath reaches out for the young gold, her mind shimmering in gleeful anticipation. << Are you ready? T'mic says it is time, if you are ready. >>
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth first projects her usual warmth that fits perfectly with Ista's current weather of sticky heat, but it's soon snuffed out as realization dawns on the gold. <>
Mid-afternoon and it's a gloriously soggy day on the island. A storm blew through earlier leaving all damp and sticky, but besides a light wind the weather is - for now - mild. T'mic waits out in the bowl, pacing back and forth along Aath's side. The green watches him with veiled amusement, every now and again nuzzling at her leg to dislodge an invisible bit of fluff.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath sparkles brightly. << Oh yes, just so! You'll do -ever- so well, I'm sure! >>
Fayre and Lieryth appear from the direction of the barracks and, despite the heat and stickiness, the young weyrling's face is paler than usual. A chill shudders through her body as Fayre nears T'mic and Aath; from the wetness of the bowl, or fear? Either way, she gives a curt nod towards the more experienced dragonriding pair. Her only words are a simple greeting, "Afternoon, sir."
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth allows herself to send a minishower of sparkles back at Aath. <>
"Afternoon, weyrling," Mic returns, studying her face after exchanging salutes. "You feeling all right? Nerves are one thing, actually being sick is another. Lieryth says she's ready, but if you can't hold a visualization..."
Fayre pats her stomach and gives a reassuring shake of the head. "Don't worry. After working in the kitchens so long, I can always hold down my food. An' I'm just as ready as Lieryth. She just looks all shiny and pretty, while I'm all pale." The weyrling attempts a somewhat confident smile, though her hands are noticeably shaking. To hide that, she's quick to clasp her hands behind her back.
T'mic gives a short little laugh. "If you're sure, I trust you." He jerks his head toward the eager gold and adds, "Up you go, then. Full straps this time - you don't need to worry about anything else. Then head up and circle. I know you've been learning your images, so... think about Fort Weyr. Have her give Aath a visual; if it's good, we'll let you go through. We'll be right behind you, so don't worry, a'right?"
Fayre leans in a little closer to T'mic as he runs through the instructions and she nods at various intervals. "Fort, eh? Sounds good. Lie' and I have been lookin' forward to travelin' someday, so it'll be nice to get past the icky cold bits and onto the new locations." Her brief small talk seems to calm her down some and, after a deep breath, she hoists herself up onto her dragon. "Boy, I can't wait to climb up when she's fully grown, what with my height an' all." She calls down to T'mic, sarcasm dripping in her tone. "Up we go, then." After a pat from her rider, Lieryth tenses her legs and launches into the air--with just a bit of a slip due to the wet stone of the bowl.
Below, T'mic climbs up onto Aath's neck.
Below, T'mic has left.
You rise into the air.
Lower Bowl Sky -- Ista Weyr
The bright Istan daylight glimmers from flecks of mica in the black stone of the Weyr walls. Here, only thirty meters above the bowl floor, you can see the dark spires of the Weyr loom high above you to the east, like five dragon-claws clutching toward the sky. The blue water of the bay glimmers brightly beyond the verdant plateau to the west, and you can see firelizards riding the infamous Istan updrafts against the sky. To the east, you see the great gaping opening of the Hatching Grounds, and to the southeast is constant activity near the entrance to Lower Caverns.
The wet summer season oppresses the island with high humidity and sweltering temperatures. This morning, clouds interrupt the sky and a turbulent wind gusts violently, howling around the peaks of the Weyr.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath warns, her diamonds dimming, << Careful! >>
Below, Aath launches up from the ground.
Below, Aath has arrived.
Below, Aath is quick behind the young gold and climbs a length above her before settling into position just trailing her. Mic calls down, "Have her give us the visualization when you're ready!" then settles back into his straps and pulls down his goggles.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth keeps a flickering flame going in her mind, though she mostly focuses on sending a clear image of the sky above Fort's bowl to Aath. <>
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath accepts the image without words, withdraws from the gold's mind with only sparkles to keep her company. After a few moments - probably no more than half a minute, all told - she returns. Brightly, << That is right! Lieryth, I -knew- you could do this. You're just ever so clever about things like this. T'mic says you may go *between* when you are ready. >>
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth's flame burns brighter at the compliment and approval, though the gold is careful to maintain focus on her image. <>
Behind Fayre's goggles are fiercely narrowed chestnut eyes; the result of the weyrling's fierce concentration on her visualization. She waves widely towards T'mic, indicating she's heard his instructions. Then she's tightly clenching Lieryth's straps, and the two vanish *between*.
Below, Lieryth disappears into Between.
Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!
You suddenly emerge...
Sky Above Fort Weyr
On a clear day, from this height, you can see for miles. Below you, Fort Weyr is spread out in the bowl of the ancient volcano, the jagged "Tooth Crag" dominating the northeast rim. At the end of the southwest corner, you can see where an ancient landslide has upset the Bowl's natural symmetry.
The living caverns and weyrling barracks are straight down in the center of the bowl. In the northeastern bowl are the Weyrleader's weyrs, council room, queens weyrs and the bubble of the hatching grounds. In the southwestern bowl is the grassy plain of the feeding ground and the shimmer of the weyr's lake.
Far below you are the Center of the Bowl, the opening to the Lower Caverns, and the Weyrling Barracks. Down to the northeast are the Weyrleader's complex, the Junior Queen's Weyrs, and the Hatching Grounds. To the southwest are the grassy plain of the Feeding Grounds and the shimmer of Fort Weyr's lake.
Below, Lieryth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Below, The Watch Dragon announces the arrival of Gold Lieryth and Fayre from Ista Weyr.
Below, Aath has arrived.
Below, Aath emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!
Below, The Watch Dragon announces the arrival of Green Aath and T'mic from Ista Weyr.
Below, Aath blinks in, as promised, bare seconds behind the gold. There's a tense heartbeat while T'mic searches out his charge, and then the air is full with the yells and single bugle from he and his green. "Great!" Mic finally manages, waves for them to land. "Down you go - great job!"
Fayre looks around wildly as she appears from the coldness of *between*, as if she can't quite believe she's really there. Realization quickly dawns and the weyrling begins to clap enthusiastically, calling over to T'mic, "Hey! I didn't die! That darkness sure is somethin'." Lieryth politely rumbles in reply to Aath, but it's a far cry from a triumphant bugle. The gold circles down towards the ground of the bowl, crooning a greeting to the watchdragon as she goes.
Lieryth> I bespoke Aath with << Oooh, I do not like *between* very much, dear Aath. It is too cold for me. But I suppose it is part of our duty, and that is important. I will bear with it.>> >>
Below, Aath spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing.
Below, Aath has left.
You spiral down to the ground, and backwing to a landing.
You climb down from Lieryth's neck.
Center of the Fort Weyr Bowl
The Bowl of Fort Weyr, a large, featureless plain surrounded by steep mountain cliffs, stretches out around you. It is approximately oval in shape, about 2700 meters along the long axis running southwest to northeast, and about half that distance across the short axis. You stand in its approximate center. The soil of the bowl is somewhat sandy.
To the northwest is the large cavern used for the Weyrling barracks. To the west is the fenced off area where the Weyr's herds are kept, and the lake shore is to the southwest. To the northeast can be seen the ledges for the junior queens and the weyrleaders. The large entrance to the Hatching Grounds can also be seen to the northeast and to the east are the Lower Caverns.
Contents:
T'mic
Lieryth
Aath
Arlyth
Aath leads the way to a landing in the bowl, lands daintily with her wings flared back. Mic hops off and watches Lieryth's landing with shaded eyes. "How was it?" he calls over as soon as he can be heard. "You good?"
Fayre dismounts Lieryth with notably less grace than T'mic--she'll get used to it, sometime. "It was..." She rubs her hands up and down her riding leathers as she shudders again. "Y'know. Cold. Everyone tells you it will be, but...Whoosh! You're just suddenly gone and it's like you'll never be warm again." Her gaze shifts over to Lieryth and a small grimace tugs on her mouth. "Doesn't fit with Lie' too well. She likes the sun. But I figure it gets easier after the first time, eh?"
T'mic grins and leaves Aath behind to cross over to Fayre. "Yeah, s'colder than most anything. Makes the 'Reaches feel like home." He gives Fort's bowl a considering, almost proprietary once-over, then folds his arms and studies the goldrider. "Once you've done it, you get used to it, yeah. You always have to make sure she has a good visualization before you go, though. Don't rush it, either - better to take extra time before you go and be /sure/ you know where you're gone."
"Oh, yeah. Better to take an extra minute than end up stuck in the cold forever or in a rock or somethin' like that." Fayre responds with a sad shake of her head. She shuffles slightly away from Lieryth and leans towards T'mic to whisper in a soft voice, "It makes me a bit sad, knowin' she'll end up there forever someday, y'know? When she loves the sticky heat of Ista so much an' all." But she sets aside her worries for now and begins to scan the bowl with interest. She suddenly laughs, "To be honest, their bowl is a bit plain, ain't it? But isn't a clutchsire of ours around here? I forget his name. Rode a brown, caught Nolee's dragon, right?"
T'mic says "Exactly. --Huh? Shells, Fayre - not for turns and turns. Don't even think about it, right? Give your girl her time in the sun before you send her *between* forever!" He looks away to signal the end of -that- particular conversation, though his eyes return to Fayre quick enough. "Yeah, it is - and good memory. Jekzith. A brown. P'draig's the Weyrlingmaster here." Before she can ask he adds, "Aath already tried to contact him, but he's off somewhere. Flying, probably.""
Fayre waves her hand dismissively and offers up a small, polite smile. "Aww, I was just musing, sir. I don't get too fretful about such things, so don't worry." She shrugs, her smile turning a bit sheepish. "Sorry." Her gaze lifts towards the sky and she shields her eyes to search the air, as if she might just see a certain brown dragon flying around up there. "Ah. Are you two still friends, then? Must be handy to collaborate on teaching ideas and the like, eh?" She bobs her head and her smile widens. "Not that you and Aath need any tips." A little flattery never hurt anyone!
"Uh," Mic says about his friendship, follows her gaze to the sky. "Lovers, actually, but yeah. He's been doing this ten turns or more. I pick his brain all the time. Wish he was here - I think you'd really like him. I'm sure he'd have nothing but good to say about you and Lieryth." He returns her smile with a wry one of his own, knowing. "You say that -now-, but I still don't grade your exams, Fayre. That's all Q'vek!"
Fayre's eyes widen--nay, bulge!--at that juicy tidbit of gossip and she shoots T'mic a knowing smile. "Well, ain't that interestin'. Good thing he ended up in Ista then, eh? So that you two could meet." She scratches the back of her head sheepishly, even scuffling her foot against the sandy floor of the bowl shyly. "Aww! Well thanks, sir. Have a feeling he has better things to say about you, though." Winkwink! "I'll be sure to start butterin' him up too, then. Q'vek, that is. Know any compliments he likes gettin' in particular?"
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth seems to have been listening in on the riders' conversation and her mindvoice is happy and warm, like the hot bubbles of the water in the bathing caverns. <>
Above the center of the bowl, Jekzith spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing.
Jekzith has arrived.
P'draig climbs down from Jekzith's neck.
P'draig has arrived.
"Lucky for somebody, yeah," the greenrider drawls, his eyes twinkling. "And nah, what the Weyrlingmaster does and doesn't like is for me to know and you to find out. He gives -you- lot chores when you mess up; what do you think he'd do to /me/?!" He and Fayre are standing near Lieryth, chatting; Aath sprawls in the sun a short distance away, her tail flicking against the floor.
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath drops her voice conspiratorially. << Goodness, yes. -Ever- so often. Oooh, there's Jekzith! Isn't he just so handsome? >>
"Tie you up and tickle your feet with a wherry's feather until you cry?" Fayre guesses with a grin, her soft brown eyes twinkling right back at T'mic. The shadow of a dragon above catches her eye and she looks upwards. The sight of brown hide widens her grin some, "Well, wouldn'tcha know it. No wonder you picked Fort to go to, eh?"
P'draig slides down Jekzith's shoulder, sunny smile on his face for T'mic. He doffs riding cap and stuffs it in his pocket, loosens up his jacket and without preamble strides over to the Istan greenrider to sling an arm around him and kiss his cheek. "Fort's duties to Ista and her queens, especially the lovely one sitting in the Bowl," he says jovially. "And that's what I'd do to him, can't speak for Q'vek," Paddy announces further with humor twinkling in his eyes. "P'draig, Fort's Weyrlingmaster. Well met Fayre," he leans over to offer a hand to the Weyrling. Of course he knows who she is, even if he hadn't been at the Hatching.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth responds with lighthearted rolling waves of heat. <>
T'mic says "Afternoon, Paddy," and exchanges a demure peck on the cheek with the brownrider, adding a grin for Fayre. See? "Shells, Paddy, don't give away a Weyrlingmaster's secrets! -That's Jekzith," he adds with a nod to the brown, "And Lieryth, of course."
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath proclaims airily, << Oh, /loads/ of times. >> Or once. Twice? She doesn't remember clearly. << He flies almost as well as I do. >> A beat. << Maybe -almost- as well as you, too. >>
Fayre beams at the happy reunion, her face as shining as her dragon's hide. "Well met, sir! And Ista's duties in return." After she shakes the Weyrlingmaster's hand and salutes him, she shoves her hands in her pockets and bounces on the balls of her feet. "Ah, it's always nice to see happy people. And Lieryth thanks ya for the compliment, and thinks Jekzith is quite the handsome dragon himself." Her eyebrows waggle mischievously and she glances towards the opening to the caverns. "How about I grab something to eat while you two and the dragons chat?"
"What secrets?" Paddy deadpans and winks at Mic and nods about the dragons. "Thanks Fayre, on his behalf and my own. I'm biased of course. Think he's the handsomest, but not everyone agrees," P'draig jokes further and keeps that arm right where he left it around Mic. "Oh, late lunch?" he asks politely as Fayre mentions needing to eat.
Lieryth> Aath senses that Lieryth rumbles cheerfully and her voice bubbles faster, caught up in all the gossip. <>
"Early supper," Mic corrects, nodding at Fayre. "Sure. We'll probably be right behind you. Otherwise, Aath'll let Lieryth know when it's time to leave. Remember your manners, a'right?"
Fayre's eyes widen doefully. "Manners? How could you ever think otherwise about little ol' me?" She bats her eyelashes innocently before dropping the guise and breaking out into a grin. "Sounds good, sir. Pleasure meeting you again, Weyrlingmaster! Hope to see you in the Sandbar one of these days." A salute for each of the senior riders and then she's off into the caverns to poke her way around until she finds food.
"Time difference," Paddy replies, smacking his forehead lightly with one hand and nods. "Enjoy then Fayre, and good to see you again. Congratulations again on your Impression and on learning Between!" As the goldrider moves off, P'draig shoots T'mic another amused look. "Still throws me sometimes hearing you tell someone to remember their manners."
Dragon> Lieryth senses that Aath sparkles happily, like a jewel box. << Oh yes. >>