Log: Rescuing Berit, Hatching Galleries Chatter
Who: Berit, P'draig, Palia (NPC), S'fox, Kaiona, Jendel
When: 11/11/16
Where: Entrance Tunnel, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy rescues lost, abandoned Berit from sun and dust and takes her over to the Hatching Grounds to have a look at the eggs. Many people stop by to chat.
Fort Weyr Tunnel(#4487RJ)
Apart from on the stillest of days a breeze is almost always flowing trough this tunnel. This long, smooth floored passage runs from outside the Weyr right through to the bowl with several passages leading off from it at various stages along its length. At the narrowest point it is still wide enough to allow two wagons to pass side by side, and in a few places along its length it expands to a large size, natural caverns in the rock having been enlarged and smoothed. These providing areas of storage and a safe place for the visiting trader wagons or tithe trains to unload.
At times of tithe the activity level is very high. Goods are unloaded and taken from here to the central stores for sorting, inventory and final storage. A constant flow of residents come back and forth, most smaller items carried by hand, some hand carts serving to carry the heavier items. When traders come by, if they choose to do business in the tunnel itself then normally one can find a group of people during daylight hours going over the trader's stock, discussing prices and making purchases. At other times the tunnel can be a forlorn place if one happens to be passing through; during Winter the tunnel is less well frequented, the wind that blows through makes the smaller, warmer, inner passages between the Weyr's residential and storage areas a much more comfortable choice.
Two large cracks run along the western wall from the latest tremors. Thick Lemosian timber holds up the walls most damaged.
Dust is kicked up from the burden beasts and rolling wagon wheels, coating everything in a layer of grim, but the throng of people milling through the tunnel does not take a minute to notice. They are traders, weyrfolk, and crafters, moving through the familiar passage like one strolls through a marketplace. High overhead, Rukbat shines brilliant, reaching warm rays of light down to the earth. It is dusty and it is warm and it is crowded - a combination that does not work well for one weaver apprentice. Berit wipes a hand against her perspiring forehead, sighing for the fifth time as her eyes search the surrounding faces for any signs of the journeyman she arrived with. She is standing against the wall, hands protectively clutching her satchel, as she continuously looks up at the position of the sun and then back down, to the people, to find her chaperone.
P'draig leans against the wall, holding Palia up to see the passing train. The little girl laughs and claps, squealing about runners and big wheels. Her father grins and gives her a hug, shifts her all the way up onto his shoulders, bracing her legs in place with arms wrapped around. Once he's gotten her up, that's when he notices Beri plastered against the wall and he dodges around a gawking lower-caverns girl to reach the Weaver apprentice. "Hey there. We've met once, haven't we?" he calls out to her, but sticks one hand out anyway. "P'draig, the Weyrlingmaster, just in case. And this is Palia," a tilt of his head up to the clinging toddler on his shoulders.
Someone dodging in and out of the crowd catches her attention, and Berit smiles broadly as she slips onto her tippy-toes to get a better view. They move past, unrecognizable, and she sighs, returning to the flats of her feet. "How could he just leave me.. oh, I told Suvral.." the girl grumps, glaring holes into the ground at her feet, but she jumps and looks up when the dragonrider speaks. Disarmed at first, she just stares, and upon raising her gaze higher, she sees a toddler clinging to his shoulders. Her smile is more relaxed as she shakes her head, grasping his hand in a light handshake. "Yes, I believe so. P'draig, yes. I came to Fort a while back with my brother, Holden." In case he forgot, she supplies, "Berit, weaver apprentice." And in good humor, she tilts her head back to smile up at the little girl. "Palia, right? I never forget a pretty name."
"Nice to see you again, Berit," P'draig says with casual friendliness. Palia just stares downward solemnly and then nods as Berit gets her name right. "Palia," she says self-importantly and leans down to offer her tiny palm too in mimicry of her father. "Holden, right. You're looking a little lost today. Everything okay?"
"Nice to meet you again, as well, sir," Berit parrots with a small smile, taking the time to gently squeeze the tiny hand held out to her. "And you too." But her attention swiftly shifts to the distress she finds herself in and she shuffles her feet restlessly, casting another look around the crowd. "I came with another journeyman today, in place of Suvral. He has a cold, you see, and the healer told him not to get out of bed, but he promised me he would take me to see the eggs. So, he sent me with Journeyman Faran, because he had to run some errands here." Taking a breath, she lowers her gaze to her boots. "He told me to stay here while he talked to a trader, but they seem to have.. disappeared." Squinting, she looks back in, green eyes focused on a point on the far wall of the tunnel. "And it has been at least an hour."
Palia's handshake is brief and not so much a shake as a squeeze and then she's tightening her hands in her father's hair and trying to stand up a little as another beast comes into view. "Ow. Palia, sweetie, that's my hair not a pair of reins." The brownrider reaches up to loosen her fingers and takes her hands in his instead. "An hour? A whole hour?" He blinks down at the Weaver apprentice and shakes his head. "Shells. I hope he didn't forget you. Anyway, if you're to see the eggs, maybe he'll look for you there? I can show you were to go. Maybe get a nice cool drink on the way?"
A nonchalant expression is turned to the dragonrider, her lips compressing and her gaze skipping away, but the amusement she is trying to hide lurks in her sage-green eyes. Berit regains her composure enough to bob her head, giving him a sideways glance. "About an hour, if I am reading the sky right. I should have just waited. Journeyman Faran has a roaming eye," she says, then winces, and looks away again. But the excuse is enough to assure that he probably found another diversion, instead of having left his apprentice behind. "If you do not mind escorting me? I am sure he would look for me there, and it is too hot to wait out here for much longer. A glass of juice would do me well." She gives him a bolstering smile, taking a step in the right direction.
"Huh. Well doesn't that just take the cake? Abandoned by a loose-trousered Journeyman. Shells." P'draig shakes his head a few times then moves to bring Palia down off his shoulders, settling her on his hip instead. "I don't mind at all," the Weyrlingmaster replies. "I'm off-duty today and just hanging out with Palia here before I head over to Ista later." He offers his arm then, with a winning grin. "If I may, and I'll see what I can do about juice. This time of the turn it's usually cider here at Fort, though we might still have some stuff up from Boll left."
"Only away from the Hall," is said in a conspiratorial tone as Berit takes another look around, this one furtive to make sure the journey rank in question is not nearby. "He behaves himself within the walls, but outside of the Hall is sometimes forgets his good manners." She pauses, wherein she raises bemused eyes to his. "This is what I hear." Hesitantly, she places a hand on the proffered arm, and gives a little 'mm' of approval. "I am appreciative, sir. I might have stood here all day." The truth rings true in her voice, but dwindles into another sigh. "I do not know anyone here at the Weyr, besides you and.." She frowns, thinking. "..T'aren. Yes, T'aren. He comes by the Hall occasionally to commission clothing for a woman at Telgar."
Here the dust and grim from the bowl cannot reach them, but the heat pervading the sands is another element altogether. Even so, the few people scattered around the galleries do not seem bothered by the obtrusive warmth. Digging through the contents in her satchel, Berit leads the way from the stairs into the gallery. She keeps one eye on where she is walking and one eye on the sheaves in her cloth bag, until she finds what she needs. With a quiet exclamation, she pulls out a white grosgrain ribbon and proceeds to tie her back in a runner's tail. Looking back as she finger-combs her hair, she inquires, "Where should we sit? I want the best vantage point. Likely, I will be here for a while."
"About mid-way up, right in the middle," P'draig answers as he follows along, keeping an eye on Palia who's scampering up the stands already and trotting along the curve of the aisle she's in. "That's Ciath on the Sands, I'm guessing Soldreth is out and about, maybe hunting, or M'yr's got business." He gestures to the Sands and the half-hidden lumps of eggs within.
Ribbon secured in a tasteful bow with drooping ears and long ends, Berit is ready to make her way into the stands to claim a seat. She takes a few steps towards the front, looks back, and repeats the brownrider's words verbatim, "Midway up and in the middle." Following his instructions, she sidesteps into the row and plants herself on the bench, then motions to P'draig to join. "They do not have as many pink ones as those at Telgar, but they are lovely from what I can see." And that is the truth, most of their colors and shapes being hidden beneath the sand.
"Is pink a good thing?" asks P'draig with a hint of teasing in his voice and clears his throat. "Palia. Stop running," he says simply and the little girl pauses mid-step, turns around and looks back at her father with a calculating air. The brownrider just meets that look straight on and lifts his eyebrows slowly. Palia puts her foot down slowly and then pulls herself up onto the bench, makes much of smoothing out her little skirt and folding her hands in her lap and peeks back at Paddy wide-eyed. He smirks, nods once and then sits himself. "Yeah, Ciath likes to hide her eggs until it's time for them to hatch," P'draig explains to the Weaver apprentice, elbows resting loosely on knees.
"Pink is always a good thing. It is my second favorite color, to purple, of course." Really, that explains it! Berit settles her hands on her knees, feet together, and she leans forward. "Why, do you secretly despise pink? You should not, you know." Removing her eyes from the eggs long enough to look him straight in the eye, she gives a curt nod. "You have the bone structure and coloring to pull off pink, and not every man does." With that, she returns her focus to the hidden ovoids and Ciath, her lips parted unknowingly as she concentrates on seeing as much as she can see. "Does she?" is asked absently, "That is a very peculiar habit, but all dragons are different, are they not?" It is an amused assessment, likely something someone once told her and she is repeating for lack of any experience.
"Pink and purple. Got it. I'm more partial to blue, myself. So's Palia. Her room's painted blue like the sky with white clouds in it." Palia herself is sitting a little further down from the Weyrlingmaster and the Weaver apprentice who are midway around the circle of seats and halfway up with a good view of the Sands. Paddy's daughter is being a model citizen right now. For now. The Weyrlingmaster blinks at Berit though. "Uh ... pink, on me?" and he jerks a thumb towards his chest, runs his hand through his hair. "Never really thought of it. Most of what I own is brown, white or blue, with one red shirt and a pair of black pants." A nod or two about Ciath. "Yep, she does. And they are at that. Different."
Kaiona finds herself walking through the bowl and into the galleries. She pauses at the railing as she stares out at the eggs coated in sand. Her features are thoughtful and she does not seem to notice nor care that there might be others present.
Already seated up in the galleries, a ways above P'draig and his companions, S'fox is entertaining his own guest, a girl about twelve or thirteen. They laugh and josh around a lot, but eventually part ways, the girl skipping off to work and S'fox remaining where he is, watching her go until the conversation below draws his attention. Standing up and stretching, S'fox heads down toward P'draig and Berit, offering an easy "hey" in greeting.
Those eggs sure are interesting! Or one would think from the way Berit watches them so seriously. "Blue is a pleasing color as well and it suits most people. You and Palia too," she says, tilting her head and looking down the way at the little girl. "Blue and green for her, I believe." Looking back at P'draig, "Pink, but brown works as well." Her weaver knowledge extended, she folds her hands and places them over her knees again, green eyes flicking to the sands. But it is a short amount of time before she is interrupted from her egg-watching, this time by S'fox. "Hello," she offers, giving the man a small smile, and then back to the eggs.
"Wherhide pants y'know," P'draig explains about the brown, plucking lightly at his knee. "Standard rider gear," he notes further with a grin for Berit and tips a look Palia's way. She's scooching down towards the edge of the bench and kicking her feet up and down and shooting looks back at P'draig. Paddy just kind of /looks/ at her again and she stops, looking up at the ceiling with one finger in her mouth. Nothing to see here. S'fox' approach earns a wave. "Hey S'fox. How's things?" And a loose gesture from the Weyrlingmaster for an invitation to join him and Berit. "This is Berit, Apprentice Weaver. Berit, S'fox, rider of bronze Inorath." Paddy's gaze catches on Kaiona momentarily then skims away back to his companions.
Kaiona continues to stare at the eggs, not noticing those around her. She finally turns and a smile spreads across her features. "I didn't realize there were people here! How lovely." She claps her hands together and strides forward, looking at Berit. "You have very pretty hair," she announces with a beam.
"You mind I join you?" asks S'fox, as he slides ont on the bench alongside P'draig. "Things, they're good. You? Nice to meet you, S'fox," the new rider repeats the introduction. "You our new posting or something?" he wonders of the girl, with a quick grin while he stretches his legs out in front of him. He starts to ask something else, but with Kaiona's arrival, breaks off in favor of offering a "hey" to her, too.
As if there weren't already enough people viewing the eggs, in walks the butcher Jendel - it's not too difficult to tell that she's freshly off-duty, as she hasn't even given herself the chance to change clothes into something that looked a little less... gory. She takes a deep whiff of air as soon as she enters the galleries, and grins as she sees several familiar faces. "'ello!" She waves crisply to the gathered crowd of people, before leaning over a railing and taking a good look at the eggs for herself.
When it looks like there will be letup in the conversation and introductions, the apprentice gives up on watching the eggs for now and turns in her seat, knees to the side. "We get a lot of riding wear orders. They are pretty routine, but I think they could use a few improvements." Berit does not expand on what should be or should not be improved upon, instead giving the other dragonrider another smile, this time for the introduction. "Nice to meet you, and no, I was just visiting with one of the journeymen from the Hall, Faran. He is.. around, somewhere. I wanted to see the eggs." She opens her mouth to say more, but there is Kaoina and she is complimenting one of Berit's worst vanities. Touching a hand to the curls strung up in a runner's tail, she smiles, "Thank you. Your hair is such an.. interesting color
"Improvements huh?" P'draig looks over at Berit good-naturedly, "what kind of improvement?" He's distracted momentarily by Palia sneaking off the bench and starting to creep away. "Paaaaaalia ..." he calls out warningly and she freezes in place, tucks her chin downward and peeeers back over her shoulder at him, sighs dramatically and walks back to climb up into P'draig's lap. Three year olds. Oy. "No problem, S'fox," Paddy says mildly and blinks at Kaiona's approach, the corners of his mouth curling up a little as the girls get right down to battle of the vanities. "Hey Jendel," he tacks on casually as the butcher girl leans over the railing a couple of rows of seats down.
Kaiona tugs at a strand of her strawberry-coated hair, that wide-toothed smile still in place. "I know, isn't it a nice addition? I always told my Ma, my hair would be my only vanity and I've held to that." She twinkles and offers a wave to the rest of those gathered to view the eggs. "I'm Kaiona, nice to meet you all!" She turns, blowing out a low whistle, "Aren't the eggs splendid?"
With Jendel joining them, S'fox casts a look over the latest arrival and then grins at her, too. "Wow, be careful, or you'll have those dragons hatching just to take a bite out of you," he teases, with a nod toward her gory clothes. For Berit, too, he has another grin, an enlightened nod as she corrects him. "Oh, oh, right. Faran," he says, nodding knowingly. "Well, sounds fun, anyway -- you enjoying 'em? The eggs." But as for hair? He just eyes the pair of girls, touching his own hair a little self-consciously and then sharing a look with P'draig. Girls.
Jendel doesn't seem to be too interested in the conversations going on around her. Instead, her attention is almost solely focused on the eggs below - at least until P'draig greets her. "'ey, Paddy," she grins back in the direction of the dragonrider, before giving S'fox a chortle for his comment. "Aye, th'n I'll b'much mer blood'd th'n b'fore!" She smiles, and says, "I know th' m'f'lizard likes th'bloody shirt.." and, as if on cue, a little bronzen head pokes out from underneath the work shirt, and the rather young firelizard crawls up onto her shoulder.
"Stylized additions and design corrections," is Berit's fluid answer, her eyes marking each of P'draig's shoulders, and she taps each of her wrists with a forefinger, as if that could answer the question in much more detail. Weavers! Her pink skirts are smoothed over her legs with idle fingers, and she gives Palia a conspiratorial grin, before looking up at Kaoina. "There were days that I wished I had red hair, but in the end, it would never go with my complexion." She slants a look at S'fox, one dark eyebrow elevated, as she considers his self-conscious gesture, but she says not a word, commenting instead on the eggs. "I was surprised there were so few, but they are nice looking from what I can see." And she turns her attention on Jendel, following the direction of the two dragonriders, only to set eyes on ..blood. Her smile falters and she slowly turns to face forward, not moving her gaze form the eggs this time. After all, the eggs are not bloody!
P'draig returns S'fox' look with a helpless grin and shrug of shoulders, then blinks his attention back to Berit as she taps her wrists and eyes her with bemusement as he cuddles Palia up against his chest. The little girl just looks over at Berit solemnly and says nothing. "It's an Interval," he notes about the clutch size. "They'll only get smaller from here on out." His head ducks downward as Palia tugs on his shirt and murmurs something in his ear. "Huh? Okay, in a minute, Pali."
"Bet he does," agrees S'fox, cocking one corner of his mouth up in a smirk at Jendel as her firelizard puts in an appearance. Leaning back, he glances from her to the eggs, with an agreeing tip of his head to P'draig's words. "Thought it looked all right sized myself," he admits. "Weren't that many for Inorath's clutch, were there? Or were there. Didn't really ever count 'em. Anyway, how many do we really need, with it ending?"
With her eyes trained on the eggs, never straying, Berit folds her arms around her middle. "Smaller during the Interval? Why is that?" She sounds genuinely curious, even if her eyes are glued to the sands spread out in front of her. "I should think it would be very funny to have fifty candidates and only three eggs. That has never happened, has it?" Unable to take it any longer, she turns her head, looking from P'draig to S'fox.
"Because we don't need as many dragons," P'draig answers Berit quietly. "No Thread, means dragons and riders aren't dying as often in Fall." A little nod for S'fox as he rises, swinging Palia up onto his hip. "Yours had ... eighteen I think? Just a little more," Paddy elaborates and smiles over at Jendel, gives Kaiona a wave on his way past. "And nope, wouldn't Search so many for only three, doesn't get that small though. Probably hover around a dozen or so for the next however long." He clears his throat and gives Berit an apologetic look. "I need to get Palia something to eat, Berit, but S'fox, if you wouldn't mind looking out for her? She came with a Journeyman and if he doesn't turn up, Berit might need a lift back to Weaver. If he doesn't turn up, come find me too, I'll be in my weyr, which is just near here, attached to the Barracks," Paddy points out as he steps away with his daughter.
When: 11/11/16
Where: Entrance Tunnel, Fort Weyr
What: Paddy rescues lost, abandoned Berit from sun and dust and takes her over to the Hatching Grounds to have a look at the eggs. Many people stop by to chat.
Fort Weyr Tunnel(#4487RJ)
Apart from on the stillest of days a breeze is almost always flowing trough this tunnel. This long, smooth floored passage runs from outside the Weyr right through to the bowl with several passages leading off from it at various stages along its length. At the narrowest point it is still wide enough to allow two wagons to pass side by side, and in a few places along its length it expands to a large size, natural caverns in the rock having been enlarged and smoothed. These providing areas of storage and a safe place for the visiting trader wagons or tithe trains to unload.
At times of tithe the activity level is very high. Goods are unloaded and taken from here to the central stores for sorting, inventory and final storage. A constant flow of residents come back and forth, most smaller items carried by hand, some hand carts serving to carry the heavier items. When traders come by, if they choose to do business in the tunnel itself then normally one can find a group of people during daylight hours going over the trader's stock, discussing prices and making purchases. At other times the tunnel can be a forlorn place if one happens to be passing through; during Winter the tunnel is less well frequented, the wind that blows through makes the smaller, warmer, inner passages between the Weyr's residential and storage areas a much more comfortable choice.
Two large cracks run along the western wall from the latest tremors. Thick Lemosian timber holds up the walls most damaged.
Dust is kicked up from the burden beasts and rolling wagon wheels, coating everything in a layer of grim, but the throng of people milling through the tunnel does not take a minute to notice. They are traders, weyrfolk, and crafters, moving through the familiar passage like one strolls through a marketplace. High overhead, Rukbat shines brilliant, reaching warm rays of light down to the earth. It is dusty and it is warm and it is crowded - a combination that does not work well for one weaver apprentice. Berit wipes a hand against her perspiring forehead, sighing for the fifth time as her eyes search the surrounding faces for any signs of the journeyman she arrived with. She is standing against the wall, hands protectively clutching her satchel, as she continuously looks up at the position of the sun and then back down, to the people, to find her chaperone.
P'draig leans against the wall, holding Palia up to see the passing train. The little girl laughs and claps, squealing about runners and big wheels. Her father grins and gives her a hug, shifts her all the way up onto his shoulders, bracing her legs in place with arms wrapped around. Once he's gotten her up, that's when he notices Beri plastered against the wall and he dodges around a gawking lower-caverns girl to reach the Weaver apprentice. "Hey there. We've met once, haven't we?" he calls out to her, but sticks one hand out anyway. "P'draig, the Weyrlingmaster, just in case. And this is Palia," a tilt of his head up to the clinging toddler on his shoulders.
Someone dodging in and out of the crowd catches her attention, and Berit smiles broadly as she slips onto her tippy-toes to get a better view. They move past, unrecognizable, and she sighs, returning to the flats of her feet. "How could he just leave me.. oh, I told Suvral.." the girl grumps, glaring holes into the ground at her feet, but she jumps and looks up when the dragonrider speaks. Disarmed at first, she just stares, and upon raising her gaze higher, she sees a toddler clinging to his shoulders. Her smile is more relaxed as she shakes her head, grasping his hand in a light handshake. "Yes, I believe so. P'draig, yes. I came to Fort a while back with my brother, Holden." In case he forgot, she supplies, "Berit, weaver apprentice." And in good humor, she tilts her head back to smile up at the little girl. "Palia, right? I never forget a pretty name."
"Nice to see you again, Berit," P'draig says with casual friendliness. Palia just stares downward solemnly and then nods as Berit gets her name right. "Palia," she says self-importantly and leans down to offer her tiny palm too in mimicry of her father. "Holden, right. You're looking a little lost today. Everything okay?"
"Nice to meet you again, as well, sir," Berit parrots with a small smile, taking the time to gently squeeze the tiny hand held out to her. "And you too." But her attention swiftly shifts to the distress she finds herself in and she shuffles her feet restlessly, casting another look around the crowd. "I came with another journeyman today, in place of Suvral. He has a cold, you see, and the healer told him not to get out of bed, but he promised me he would take me to see the eggs. So, he sent me with Journeyman Faran, because he had to run some errands here." Taking a breath, she lowers her gaze to her boots. "He told me to stay here while he talked to a trader, but they seem to have.. disappeared." Squinting, she looks back in, green eyes focused on a point on the far wall of the tunnel. "And it has been at least an hour."
Palia's handshake is brief and not so much a shake as a squeeze and then she's tightening her hands in her father's hair and trying to stand up a little as another beast comes into view. "Ow. Palia, sweetie, that's my hair not a pair of reins." The brownrider reaches up to loosen her fingers and takes her hands in his instead. "An hour? A whole hour?" He blinks down at the Weaver apprentice and shakes his head. "Shells. I hope he didn't forget you. Anyway, if you're to see the eggs, maybe he'll look for you there? I can show you were to go. Maybe get a nice cool drink on the way?"
A nonchalant expression is turned to the dragonrider, her lips compressing and her gaze skipping away, but the amusement she is trying to hide lurks in her sage-green eyes. Berit regains her composure enough to bob her head, giving him a sideways glance. "About an hour, if I am reading the sky right. I should have just waited. Journeyman Faran has a roaming eye," she says, then winces, and looks away again. But the excuse is enough to assure that he probably found another diversion, instead of having left his apprentice behind. "If you do not mind escorting me? I am sure he would look for me there, and it is too hot to wait out here for much longer. A glass of juice would do me well." She gives him a bolstering smile, taking a step in the right direction.
"Huh. Well doesn't that just take the cake? Abandoned by a loose-trousered Journeyman. Shells." P'draig shakes his head a few times then moves to bring Palia down off his shoulders, settling her on his hip instead. "I don't mind at all," the Weyrlingmaster replies. "I'm off-duty today and just hanging out with Palia here before I head over to Ista later." He offers his arm then, with a winning grin. "If I may, and I'll see what I can do about juice. This time of the turn it's usually cider here at Fort, though we might still have some stuff up from Boll left."
"Only away from the Hall," is said in a conspiratorial tone as Berit takes another look around, this one furtive to make sure the journey rank in question is not nearby. "He behaves himself within the walls, but outside of the Hall is sometimes forgets his good manners." She pauses, wherein she raises bemused eyes to his. "This is what I hear." Hesitantly, she places a hand on the proffered arm, and gives a little 'mm' of approval. "I am appreciative, sir. I might have stood here all day." The truth rings true in her voice, but dwindles into another sigh. "I do not know anyone here at the Weyr, besides you and.." She frowns, thinking. "..T'aren. Yes, T'aren. He comes by the Hall occasionally to commission clothing for a woman at Telgar."
Here the dust and grim from the bowl cannot reach them, but the heat pervading the sands is another element altogether. Even so, the few people scattered around the galleries do not seem bothered by the obtrusive warmth. Digging through the contents in her satchel, Berit leads the way from the stairs into the gallery. She keeps one eye on where she is walking and one eye on the sheaves in her cloth bag, until she finds what she needs. With a quiet exclamation, she pulls out a white grosgrain ribbon and proceeds to tie her back in a runner's tail. Looking back as she finger-combs her hair, she inquires, "Where should we sit? I want the best vantage point. Likely, I will be here for a while."
"About mid-way up, right in the middle," P'draig answers as he follows along, keeping an eye on Palia who's scampering up the stands already and trotting along the curve of the aisle she's in. "That's Ciath on the Sands, I'm guessing Soldreth is out and about, maybe hunting, or M'yr's got business." He gestures to the Sands and the half-hidden lumps of eggs within.
Ribbon secured in a tasteful bow with drooping ears and long ends, Berit is ready to make her way into the stands to claim a seat. She takes a few steps towards the front, looks back, and repeats the brownrider's words verbatim, "Midway up and in the middle." Following his instructions, she sidesteps into the row and plants herself on the bench, then motions to P'draig to join. "They do not have as many pink ones as those at Telgar, but they are lovely from what I can see." And that is the truth, most of their colors and shapes being hidden beneath the sand.
"Is pink a good thing?" asks P'draig with a hint of teasing in his voice and clears his throat. "Palia. Stop running," he says simply and the little girl pauses mid-step, turns around and looks back at her father with a calculating air. The brownrider just meets that look straight on and lifts his eyebrows slowly. Palia puts her foot down slowly and then pulls herself up onto the bench, makes much of smoothing out her little skirt and folding her hands in her lap and peeks back at Paddy wide-eyed. He smirks, nods once and then sits himself. "Yeah, Ciath likes to hide her eggs until it's time for them to hatch," P'draig explains to the Weaver apprentice, elbows resting loosely on knees.
"Pink is always a good thing. It is my second favorite color, to purple, of course." Really, that explains it! Berit settles her hands on her knees, feet together, and she leans forward. "Why, do you secretly despise pink? You should not, you know." Removing her eyes from the eggs long enough to look him straight in the eye, she gives a curt nod. "You have the bone structure and coloring to pull off pink, and not every man does." With that, she returns her focus to the hidden ovoids and Ciath, her lips parted unknowingly as she concentrates on seeing as much as she can see. "Does she?" is asked absently, "That is a very peculiar habit, but all dragons are different, are they not?" It is an amused assessment, likely something someone once told her and she is repeating for lack of any experience.
"Pink and purple. Got it. I'm more partial to blue, myself. So's Palia. Her room's painted blue like the sky with white clouds in it." Palia herself is sitting a little further down from the Weyrlingmaster and the Weaver apprentice who are midway around the circle of seats and halfway up with a good view of the Sands. Paddy's daughter is being a model citizen right now. For now. The Weyrlingmaster blinks at Berit though. "Uh ... pink, on me?" and he jerks a thumb towards his chest, runs his hand through his hair. "Never really thought of it. Most of what I own is brown, white or blue, with one red shirt and a pair of black pants." A nod or two about Ciath. "Yep, she does. And they are at that. Different."
Kaiona finds herself walking through the bowl and into the galleries. She pauses at the railing as she stares out at the eggs coated in sand. Her features are thoughtful and she does not seem to notice nor care that there might be others present.
Already seated up in the galleries, a ways above P'draig and his companions, S'fox is entertaining his own guest, a girl about twelve or thirteen. They laugh and josh around a lot, but eventually part ways, the girl skipping off to work and S'fox remaining where he is, watching her go until the conversation below draws his attention. Standing up and stretching, S'fox heads down toward P'draig and Berit, offering an easy "hey" in greeting.
Those eggs sure are interesting! Or one would think from the way Berit watches them so seriously. "Blue is a pleasing color as well and it suits most people. You and Palia too," she says, tilting her head and looking down the way at the little girl. "Blue and green for her, I believe." Looking back at P'draig, "Pink, but brown works as well." Her weaver knowledge extended, she folds her hands and places them over her knees again, green eyes flicking to the sands. But it is a short amount of time before she is interrupted from her egg-watching, this time by S'fox. "Hello," she offers, giving the man a small smile, and then back to the eggs.
"Wherhide pants y'know," P'draig explains about the brown, plucking lightly at his knee. "Standard rider gear," he notes further with a grin for Berit and tips a look Palia's way. She's scooching down towards the edge of the bench and kicking her feet up and down and shooting looks back at P'draig. Paddy just kind of /looks/ at her again and she stops, looking up at the ceiling with one finger in her mouth. Nothing to see here. S'fox' approach earns a wave. "Hey S'fox. How's things?" And a loose gesture from the Weyrlingmaster for an invitation to join him and Berit. "This is Berit, Apprentice Weaver. Berit, S'fox, rider of bronze Inorath." Paddy's gaze catches on Kaiona momentarily then skims away back to his companions.
Kaiona continues to stare at the eggs, not noticing those around her. She finally turns and a smile spreads across her features. "I didn't realize there were people here! How lovely." She claps her hands together and strides forward, looking at Berit. "You have very pretty hair," she announces with a beam.
"You mind I join you?" asks S'fox, as he slides ont on the bench alongside P'draig. "Things, they're good. You? Nice to meet you, S'fox," the new rider repeats the introduction. "You our new posting or something?" he wonders of the girl, with a quick grin while he stretches his legs out in front of him. He starts to ask something else, but with Kaiona's arrival, breaks off in favor of offering a "hey" to her, too.
As if there weren't already enough people viewing the eggs, in walks the butcher Jendel - it's not too difficult to tell that she's freshly off-duty, as she hasn't even given herself the chance to change clothes into something that looked a little less... gory. She takes a deep whiff of air as soon as she enters the galleries, and grins as she sees several familiar faces. "'ello!" She waves crisply to the gathered crowd of people, before leaning over a railing and taking a good look at the eggs for herself.
When it looks like there will be letup in the conversation and introductions, the apprentice gives up on watching the eggs for now and turns in her seat, knees to the side. "We get a lot of riding wear orders. They are pretty routine, but I think they could use a few improvements." Berit does not expand on what should be or should not be improved upon, instead giving the other dragonrider another smile, this time for the introduction. "Nice to meet you, and no, I was just visiting with one of the journeymen from the Hall, Faran. He is.. around, somewhere. I wanted to see the eggs." She opens her mouth to say more, but there is Kaoina and she is complimenting one of Berit's worst vanities. Touching a hand to the curls strung up in a runner's tail, she smiles, "Thank you. Your hair is such an.. interesting color
"Improvements huh?" P'draig looks over at Berit good-naturedly, "what kind of improvement?" He's distracted momentarily by Palia sneaking off the bench and starting to creep away. "Paaaaaalia ..." he calls out warningly and she freezes in place, tucks her chin downward and peeeers back over her shoulder at him, sighs dramatically and walks back to climb up into P'draig's lap. Three year olds. Oy. "No problem, S'fox," Paddy says mildly and blinks at Kaiona's approach, the corners of his mouth curling up a little as the girls get right down to battle of the vanities. "Hey Jendel," he tacks on casually as the butcher girl leans over the railing a couple of rows of seats down.
Kaiona tugs at a strand of her strawberry-coated hair, that wide-toothed smile still in place. "I know, isn't it a nice addition? I always told my Ma, my hair would be my only vanity and I've held to that." She twinkles and offers a wave to the rest of those gathered to view the eggs. "I'm Kaiona, nice to meet you all!" She turns, blowing out a low whistle, "Aren't the eggs splendid?"
With Jendel joining them, S'fox casts a look over the latest arrival and then grins at her, too. "Wow, be careful, or you'll have those dragons hatching just to take a bite out of you," he teases, with a nod toward her gory clothes. For Berit, too, he has another grin, an enlightened nod as she corrects him. "Oh, oh, right. Faran," he says, nodding knowingly. "Well, sounds fun, anyway -- you enjoying 'em? The eggs." But as for hair? He just eyes the pair of girls, touching his own hair a little self-consciously and then sharing a look with P'draig. Girls.
Jendel doesn't seem to be too interested in the conversations going on around her. Instead, her attention is almost solely focused on the eggs below - at least until P'draig greets her. "'ey, Paddy," she grins back in the direction of the dragonrider, before giving S'fox a chortle for his comment. "Aye, th'n I'll b'much mer blood'd th'n b'fore!" She smiles, and says, "I know th' m'f'lizard likes th'bloody shirt.." and, as if on cue, a little bronzen head pokes out from underneath the work shirt, and the rather young firelizard crawls up onto her shoulder.
"Stylized additions and design corrections," is Berit's fluid answer, her eyes marking each of P'draig's shoulders, and she taps each of her wrists with a forefinger, as if that could answer the question in much more detail. Weavers! Her pink skirts are smoothed over her legs with idle fingers, and she gives Palia a conspiratorial grin, before looking up at Kaoina. "There were days that I wished I had red hair, but in the end, it would never go with my complexion." She slants a look at S'fox, one dark eyebrow elevated, as she considers his self-conscious gesture, but she says not a word, commenting instead on the eggs. "I was surprised there were so few, but they are nice looking from what I can see." And she turns her attention on Jendel, following the direction of the two dragonriders, only to set eyes on ..blood. Her smile falters and she slowly turns to face forward, not moving her gaze form the eggs this time. After all, the eggs are not bloody!
P'draig returns S'fox' look with a helpless grin and shrug of shoulders, then blinks his attention back to Berit as she taps her wrists and eyes her with bemusement as he cuddles Palia up against his chest. The little girl just looks over at Berit solemnly and says nothing. "It's an Interval," he notes about the clutch size. "They'll only get smaller from here on out." His head ducks downward as Palia tugs on his shirt and murmurs something in his ear. "Huh? Okay, in a minute, Pali."
"Bet he does," agrees S'fox, cocking one corner of his mouth up in a smirk at Jendel as her firelizard puts in an appearance. Leaning back, he glances from her to the eggs, with an agreeing tip of his head to P'draig's words. "Thought it looked all right sized myself," he admits. "Weren't that many for Inorath's clutch, were there? Or were there. Didn't really ever count 'em. Anyway, how many do we really need, with it ending?"
With her eyes trained on the eggs, never straying, Berit folds her arms around her middle. "Smaller during the Interval? Why is that?" She sounds genuinely curious, even if her eyes are glued to the sands spread out in front of her. "I should think it would be very funny to have fifty candidates and only three eggs. That has never happened, has it?" Unable to take it any longer, she turns her head, looking from P'draig to S'fox.
"Because we don't need as many dragons," P'draig answers Berit quietly. "No Thread, means dragons and riders aren't dying as often in Fall." A little nod for S'fox as he rises, swinging Palia up onto his hip. "Yours had ... eighteen I think? Just a little more," Paddy elaborates and smiles over at Jendel, gives Kaiona a wave on his way past. "And nope, wouldn't Search so many for only three, doesn't get that small though. Probably hover around a dozen or so for the next however long." He clears his throat and gives Berit an apologetic look. "I need to get Palia something to eat, Berit, but S'fox, if you wouldn't mind looking out for her? She came with a Journeyman and if he doesn't turn up, Berit might need a lift back to Weaver. If he doesn't turn up, come find me too, I'll be in my weyr, which is just near here, attached to the Barracks," Paddy points out as he steps away with his daughter.