Log: Lucky
Who: Nenita, P'draig
When: Night, day 25, month 8, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Living Cavern, Ista Weyr
What: Post-lost-flight, P'draig's scouting around for food after swimming off the effects and bumps into a tired party-planner Nenita. Talk centers on the party, plans, some flirting and an update on the restaurant. Then there's a good-night kiss.
Living Cavern, Ista Weyr(#300RJ)
The spacious living cavern is almost always filled with residents and visitors to the Weyr. No matter whether someone is just arriving for a meal or leaving just after having one, the hustle and bustle within the cavern is nearly constant. Tables of all sizes with accompanying chairs are spread out to fill out the enormous space. To one side of the cavern lies a lengthy buffet area where the food is available at all times.
A wide passage to the north leads out to the bowl while another to the southeast leads down toward the lower caverns. Double-hinged doors stands at the entrance of the kitchen and every time the doors open and close from the kitchen, the smell of food being made wafts into the living cavern.
It's late. Some crazy green decided nighttime would be a great time to rise and Jekzith being Jekzith jumped into it. It's been long enough now since the flight though that Paddy's not addled on the far side of a loss, just a little tired, hungry and thirsty. His hair is wet from the swim he took to shake it off as he pads into the living cavern and starts to poke around at the late-night offerings. "Might be better off just cooking," he says aloud, mostly to himself, unaware if anyone else is hanging about. There are some low-level sounds in the kitchens: the workers finishing up prep for the morning and cleanup before heading to bed.
It always seems to be late. Nenita covers a yawn with her hand, exiting the kitchen and saying farewell to the few people remaining. The senior has a clipboard in hand with scrawling notes all over the attached paper. She tiredly wipes at her eyes before strolling lazily to the serving table, swiping a snack or two from whatever is left out now. The sound of P'draig talking to himself is of course, distracting even to a tired woman and she glances in the brownrider direction, smiling amusedly.
Fingers, stealing snacks. P'draig looks up as he spots the Weyrwoman and grins her way. "Hey you," he says in friendly fashion. "No rest for the wicked?" the brownrider teases further and finally catches up a piece of fruit rather than something more substantial and a plain old glass of water.
Nenita's mouth twists into a wry grin at the word wicked, shaking her head. "I suppose there isn't, but we'll pretend I don't know anything about that. Lets just say that there's no rest for busy women planning parties." She takes a cookie and pops it into her mouth, observing the damp air and tired face. "Why are you wet everytime I see you? Are you some sort of secret fish man?"
"Party?" P'draig queries, not having gotten wind of this yet and take a healthy bite out of his apple, chews and swallows. "If that's what you're up to, you've been running around like crazy all day," the brownrider sounds pretty sure and takes a moment to look at Nenita more closely. He starts to step closer, juggling apple and glass into one hand, then pauses, laughs. "Yes. At night I grow fins and dive into the ocean and cavort like a dragon," Paddy says, eyes twinkling in spite of the tired. "More seriously, greenflight. Went to swim it off after and now I feel like I could eat a runner."
Nenita lifts an eyebrow curiously at him, "Yes, the end of summer party that I think we're going to start having every turn. You know, to celebrate the disgusting wet season coming to a close fall tithes coming in." She stretches her arms out after the cookie is chewed and swallowed. "Well, I've got a week or so more before the final preparations. And by the way, I think that maybe there are other things to curb your appetite that don't involve getting soaked or fat." There's a playful wink before she leans into one of the tables, taking a little rest.
"/That/ sounds like a really excellent idea, good draw too when the seasons turn, to get people to come to the island," P'draig says with a quick-flashed smile. "And I'm looking forward to not being a bucket of sweat anymore." Another bite of the apple is taken and the brownrider waggles it to and fro while he chews. Once his mouth is clear: "An apple isn't going to make me fat," he points out, "and I haven't been inclined to just ... pick someone up for a while," Paddy says matter-of-factly, lifts his glass, takes a drink and sets it down. "But I'll keep 'other things' in mind for next time." His smile flashes brightly in answer to that wink. "So, do you need a former-maybe-someday-journeyman baker for any of these party preparations?"
"That's what I was thinking. It also doesn't make sense that we don't do this sort of thing more often. Ista is often in the good season for throwing a party. It's really only summer that we have to watch out for, with the storms. And /thankfully/ we made it through this time without anything diastarous happening." Part of what he says draws Nenita's attention up to his face again where she once more twists her smile. "I was just thinking a glass of wine or a jog. What's stopped you from grazing more freely?" There's a mischievous look on her face before she teases, "Are you getting old?" She rolls her shoulders for his question. "We can always use a hand. If you'd like to join in, you can go poke the bakers in the kitchen. I'm sure they won't mind showing where to go."
"Yeah, which is pretty much the opposite of everyone else," P'draig says with a grin. "So taking advantage of the 'off' seasons in the rest of the north would be smart." There's another little pause while the brownrider crunches on his apple. "I don't like to drink during or after flights and I usually don't recommend it to weyrlings either. If ever there was a time for a clear head ... you don't need spirits mucking things up more." That's his take on it anyway. "And I'd rather swim than jog, because the water's soothing while also letting the energy run out." Another pause follows and P'draig clears his throat. "A number of things, most of which I'd rather not talk about in the middle of the living cavern, even when it's empty. Or mostly empty." The seriousness fades from his face though, replaced by a winning smile. "I dunno, want to find out?" For old. But he's nodding rapidly and finishing off the rest of the apple in a few bites. "I'll go poking. Maybe that can be my journeyman project or something."
"I don't know that a drink mucks anything up. But it can certainly smooth some frayed nerves, relax you. Stop you from doing something very stupid because you were feeling hasty otherwise." Nenita lifts one shoulder, eyeballing him as if to question that logic. But then she's always sort of contrary like this, isn't she? "Apples, oranges. Swimming, running." She gives a long glance around the cavern, taking in the rather significant lack of patrons at this hour. "All of you boys are very secretive lately. You don't want to give me any details, I'm going to have to start finding friends who're better at talking." It's a bluff, says the coy smile. For the last, "I think I already know."
"I think I just have a personally complex relationship with alcohol," P'draig answers and picks up his glass of water. "I don't tend to find that it helps with that last either. It tends to precipitate the dumb decisions." The brownrider looks down at the table for a moment where his hand rests and his glass and her hip is leaning and fingers walk the distance between after a moment. "One of those reasons has to do with Dharia's mother," Paddy says quietly, "which is kind of a downer of a subject to get into." His eyes lift up to her face and he smiles. "Anything wrong with proving it all over again?"
Button-pushing, different side-arguing aside, Nenita falls silent on the subject of alcohol allowing it to wash under the bridge for now. Two of her fingers walk along the rest of the distance and give his own a light, playful tap. "I suppose we don't have to talk about subject downers, if you don't want to." For the smile of his she returns with one of her own and shakes her head. "Hmm. I think that's one of those things that we went over recently. So maybe." She brushes some hair out her eyes and considers him before pushing off of the table.
That tap is paid back with one finger trying to capture one of hers, likewise playful. But he looks up at her more seriously. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not sure about here and now, that's all," P'draig says quietly. "If you want some details though, sometimes I still feel guilty, even if I shouldn't. Another part of it is maybe just that ... it's habit. Go for a swim, rather than company. Not that I haven't gone for company time and again, but it's never been the way I prefer to handle losing a flight." His fingers aim to give hers a light squeeze and he nods once. "We did. Which begs the question then, think you can beat me racing across the Bowl?" Playful again.
"I understand. You don't have to." Nenita tells him quickly, to head off anything uncomfortable about to happen. The admission of guilt serves only to make her look guilty, as if it were her fault he's feeling that way. The capture of fingers is allowed for and she squeezes back. "It won't feel as bad after awhile." Like she knows anything about this. "I probably can't race you across the bowl. Short legs. I've already given up on most of my exercising." The last is said a little challangingly, because... well, why not?
"No it won't," P'draig agrees readily. "It's already a more occasional thing. But it does come up, that's all," the brownrider explains further and the apple's core is set down next to his half-empty glass. Fingers brush towards her cheek as he catches that guilty look on her face. "Nenny, it's okay," he says softly. "I'm not going to keel over and die or anything. It's just kind of a complicated pea soup of emotions all wound up, so it can be a tough subject to cover and not exactly 'casual conversation' fodder." He starts to chuckle lowly at that last of hers though. "Most ... but not all? What still counts as exercise?"
"That's comforting." Nenita replies, if just a little on the dry side. She squeezes his fingers one more time before letting them go, standing away from the table and getting a full stretch in. "Ah, walking counts? Sometimes I lift something heavy and work out my arms. Now and again I go for a swim. I exercise my mouth frequently and my attitude. Other than that I have to admit I've been woefully negligent."
P'draig's hand flattens back down to the tabletop and he leans there a little heavily, though his gaze is caught by that stretch. "It seems to be working out pretty well for you, all of that," the brownrider notes, with a little glint of humor in his eyes. "Including the attitude. As for the negligence, well, you know I'm available for a full work out. After all, you might need to crack heads together at some point and woe unto us if you can't," P'draig teases.
"I try to eat a little less to make up for my lack of physical activity. Otherwise I'd probably be around two hundred pounds right around now." Nenita glances towards the exit to the bowl, perhaps mentally gauging whatever time it must be. "Oh no, as much as I appreciate it... I think I might a not-so-secret vow right out of weyrlinghood never to fully work out again. And that's what bronzeriders are for, cracking heads."
"It's late," P'draig says quietly, noticing that look. "Only bronzeriders?" is asked with humor and he picks up his glass finishes off its contents and drops the core inside of it. "Walk you home?" he offers, tone casual.
It is late. Nenita offers her arm out to him, because it's obviously the polite thing to do. "And brownriders as well. Though bronzeriders are known for following a bit more blindly sometimes." She gives him an amused smile and inclines her head towards the exit. "Sure, kiss good night and everything."
"Are they?" P'driag queries, looking down at the Weyrwoman as he gets their arms hooked together and he drops his empty glass and the apple core in the bins on the way by. "I guess blind following has it's uses," Paddy muses thoughtfully then looks down at her, his grin wide and boyish. "I'm a very lucky man, you know that?"
"Yes, I think that it definitely does." Nenita replies maybe a little airily as the proceed out into the open air of the bowl. "And they do." When that boyish grin of his spreads over his face, she tilts her chin up to give him an amused smile of her own. "Why do you happen to be very lucky, P'draig?"
"Don't let it go to your head," P'draig warns her teasingly about the power to command the mighty bronzerider, subspecies, draconus bronzus. But as they amble away from the cavern and across the darkness of the Bowl towards her ledge, he smiles again and leans down a little. "A lot of reasons. I have a good life, when you get down to it. Great weyrmate. Great kids. Wonderful brown dragon. Good job." He takes a breath, lets it out. "But I'm also lucky, because I have you on my arm and I get to see you smile, even though we're both tired as dogs. And in a little bit, I'll get to kiss you good night."
"Shouldn't I let it get to my head a little bit? You know, to go along with the attitude." Nenita winks up at him and wiggles her arm so that she can wrap it around his waist. "It's nice to someone who's so satisified with life. I wish I could feel that way. Still got that dogged urge to keep on digging under the fence, if you know what I mean." She laughs a little and shakes her head. "I do enjoy our nightly walks back to my weyr. And the good night kiss."
"What, so you can float away?" P'draig teases further and shifts his arm around her shoulders as hers goes around his waist. Full foot height difference! "Faranth willing, that'll come in time," the brownrider says sincerely. "There were times I'd never get to be you know, here. In a place like this with my life. It feels good to be there though," Paddy continues thoughtfully and nods. "Yeah. More to find out there," he adds with a grin and tilts his head back to look up at the sky for a moment then looks back down at her. "Things not to be missed." Her ledge is nearing though, the walk coming to an end and Paddy slows just a little as the promontory of stone emerges from the darkness.
"Safriath is a large gold, she can always use the help with flying." Nenita comments jokingly, waving her free hand in the direction of her ledge. "I guess it all has to do with the growing pains. We never know where life takes us... Hopefully I won't have to wait until I'm a little old woman to decide I'm content and happy and the luckiest woman on the planet." She winks up at him and as they near the stairs she slows to stop, eventually unwinding her arm from about his waist.
"Mm, anything to help Ista's senior queen, eh?" P'draig makes the last joking comment on that theme and nods, expression serious now. "No, we don't. All any of us can really do is roll with the punches as they come and try to find some measure of contentment in the spaces in between, in the good things we do have," he muses thoughtfully, then laughs, turns to her as her arm departs. His hands both lift, aiming to cup her face gently. "I don't think it'll be that long, Nenny, I really don't." Paddy bends to kiss her, meaning to make this one rather sweet, but he is who he is and it'll turn ardent before long if it gets that far.
Nenita laughs, making an mmhmm noise of confirmation as she steps back, facing him instead of walking besides him. "Seeing the forest for the trees? Something like that?" She asks as she stays still for his hands to cup her face, coming up on her toes to try and meet him. She'll continue to kiss him while it's sweet and even for a little while in the beginning when it tries to grow into something more than good night, but she'll stop somewhere shy of the point of no return. When she does pull back it'll be to give him a breathless kiss on the cheek.
"Forest for the trees," P'draig echoes on the tail end of that kiss, shy in the breath department himself and his arm close around her for a fierce hug. "Sleep well, Nenita," the brownrider says quietly down near her ear. "I'll see you tomorrow likely." He smiles into the kiss to his cheek, then straightens. "Also, they're breaking ground soon for the cothold-restaurant. Save an evening next seven for dinner with me?" Hopeful.
"I'm sure I can find some time in my schedule next week." Nenita wiggles her shoulders, maybe in an attempt to cover up the slight chill you can get from someone being so close to your ear like that. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gives him another brief squeeze before pulling away and hurriedly going up the stairs into her weyr.
"Save that date," P'draig says as he steps back, hands retreating with some reluctance. "Good night," he calls after her softly and lingers for a moment right there, head tilted back, eyes closed, just breathing. Takes a moment to compose himself, then turns about to go rouse Jekzith from where he's been napping in the garden post-flight and make his way home. T'mic might also be a very very lucky man tonight, yep.
When: Night, day 25, month 8, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Living Cavern, Ista Weyr
What: Post-lost-flight, P'draig's scouting around for food after swimming off the effects and bumps into a tired party-planner Nenita. Talk centers on the party, plans, some flirting and an update on the restaurant. Then there's a good-night kiss.
Living Cavern, Ista Weyr(#300RJ)
The spacious living cavern is almost always filled with residents and visitors to the Weyr. No matter whether someone is just arriving for a meal or leaving just after having one, the hustle and bustle within the cavern is nearly constant. Tables of all sizes with accompanying chairs are spread out to fill out the enormous space. To one side of the cavern lies a lengthy buffet area where the food is available at all times.
A wide passage to the north leads out to the bowl while another to the southeast leads down toward the lower caverns. Double-hinged doors stands at the entrance of the kitchen and every time the doors open and close from the kitchen, the smell of food being made wafts into the living cavern.
It's late. Some crazy green decided nighttime would be a great time to rise and Jekzith being Jekzith jumped into it. It's been long enough now since the flight though that Paddy's not addled on the far side of a loss, just a little tired, hungry and thirsty. His hair is wet from the swim he took to shake it off as he pads into the living cavern and starts to poke around at the late-night offerings. "Might be better off just cooking," he says aloud, mostly to himself, unaware if anyone else is hanging about. There are some low-level sounds in the kitchens: the workers finishing up prep for the morning and cleanup before heading to bed.
It always seems to be late. Nenita covers a yawn with her hand, exiting the kitchen and saying farewell to the few people remaining. The senior has a clipboard in hand with scrawling notes all over the attached paper. She tiredly wipes at her eyes before strolling lazily to the serving table, swiping a snack or two from whatever is left out now. The sound of P'draig talking to himself is of course, distracting even to a tired woman and she glances in the brownrider direction, smiling amusedly.
Fingers, stealing snacks. P'draig looks up as he spots the Weyrwoman and grins her way. "Hey you," he says in friendly fashion. "No rest for the wicked?" the brownrider teases further and finally catches up a piece of fruit rather than something more substantial and a plain old glass of water.
Nenita's mouth twists into a wry grin at the word wicked, shaking her head. "I suppose there isn't, but we'll pretend I don't know anything about that. Lets just say that there's no rest for busy women planning parties." She takes a cookie and pops it into her mouth, observing the damp air and tired face. "Why are you wet everytime I see you? Are you some sort of secret fish man?"
"Party?" P'draig queries, not having gotten wind of this yet and take a healthy bite out of his apple, chews and swallows. "If that's what you're up to, you've been running around like crazy all day," the brownrider sounds pretty sure and takes a moment to look at Nenita more closely. He starts to step closer, juggling apple and glass into one hand, then pauses, laughs. "Yes. At night I grow fins and dive into the ocean and cavort like a dragon," Paddy says, eyes twinkling in spite of the tired. "More seriously, greenflight. Went to swim it off after and now I feel like I could eat a runner."
Nenita lifts an eyebrow curiously at him, "Yes, the end of summer party that I think we're going to start having every turn. You know, to celebrate the disgusting wet season coming to a close fall tithes coming in." She stretches her arms out after the cookie is chewed and swallowed. "Well, I've got a week or so more before the final preparations. And by the way, I think that maybe there are other things to curb your appetite that don't involve getting soaked or fat." There's a playful wink before she leans into one of the tables, taking a little rest.
"/That/ sounds like a really excellent idea, good draw too when the seasons turn, to get people to come to the island," P'draig says with a quick-flashed smile. "And I'm looking forward to not being a bucket of sweat anymore." Another bite of the apple is taken and the brownrider waggles it to and fro while he chews. Once his mouth is clear: "An apple isn't going to make me fat," he points out, "and I haven't been inclined to just ... pick someone up for a while," Paddy says matter-of-factly, lifts his glass, takes a drink and sets it down. "But I'll keep 'other things' in mind for next time." His smile flashes brightly in answer to that wink. "So, do you need a former-maybe-someday-journeyman baker for any of these party preparations?"
"That's what I was thinking. It also doesn't make sense that we don't do this sort of thing more often. Ista is often in the good season for throwing a party. It's really only summer that we have to watch out for, with the storms. And /thankfully/ we made it through this time without anything diastarous happening." Part of what he says draws Nenita's attention up to his face again where she once more twists her smile. "I was just thinking a glass of wine or a jog. What's stopped you from grazing more freely?" There's a mischievous look on her face before she teases, "Are you getting old?" She rolls her shoulders for his question. "We can always use a hand. If you'd like to join in, you can go poke the bakers in the kitchen. I'm sure they won't mind showing where to go."
"Yeah, which is pretty much the opposite of everyone else," P'draig says with a grin. "So taking advantage of the 'off' seasons in the rest of the north would be smart." There's another little pause while the brownrider crunches on his apple. "I don't like to drink during or after flights and I usually don't recommend it to weyrlings either. If ever there was a time for a clear head ... you don't need spirits mucking things up more." That's his take on it anyway. "And I'd rather swim than jog, because the water's soothing while also letting the energy run out." Another pause follows and P'draig clears his throat. "A number of things, most of which I'd rather not talk about in the middle of the living cavern, even when it's empty. Or mostly empty." The seriousness fades from his face though, replaced by a winning smile. "I dunno, want to find out?" For old. But he's nodding rapidly and finishing off the rest of the apple in a few bites. "I'll go poking. Maybe that can be my journeyman project or something."
"I don't know that a drink mucks anything up. But it can certainly smooth some frayed nerves, relax you. Stop you from doing something very stupid because you were feeling hasty otherwise." Nenita lifts one shoulder, eyeballing him as if to question that logic. But then she's always sort of contrary like this, isn't she? "Apples, oranges. Swimming, running." She gives a long glance around the cavern, taking in the rather significant lack of patrons at this hour. "All of you boys are very secretive lately. You don't want to give me any details, I'm going to have to start finding friends who're better at talking." It's a bluff, says the coy smile. For the last, "I think I already know."
"I think I just have a personally complex relationship with alcohol," P'draig answers and picks up his glass of water. "I don't tend to find that it helps with that last either. It tends to precipitate the dumb decisions." The brownrider looks down at the table for a moment where his hand rests and his glass and her hip is leaning and fingers walk the distance between after a moment. "One of those reasons has to do with Dharia's mother," Paddy says quietly, "which is kind of a downer of a subject to get into." His eyes lift up to her face and he smiles. "Anything wrong with proving it all over again?"
Button-pushing, different side-arguing aside, Nenita falls silent on the subject of alcohol allowing it to wash under the bridge for now. Two of her fingers walk along the rest of the distance and give his own a light, playful tap. "I suppose we don't have to talk about subject downers, if you don't want to." For the smile of his she returns with one of her own and shakes her head. "Hmm. I think that's one of those things that we went over recently. So maybe." She brushes some hair out her eyes and considers him before pushing off of the table.
That tap is paid back with one finger trying to capture one of hers, likewise playful. But he looks up at her more seriously. "It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not sure about here and now, that's all," P'draig says quietly. "If you want some details though, sometimes I still feel guilty, even if I shouldn't. Another part of it is maybe just that ... it's habit. Go for a swim, rather than company. Not that I haven't gone for company time and again, but it's never been the way I prefer to handle losing a flight." His fingers aim to give hers a light squeeze and he nods once. "We did. Which begs the question then, think you can beat me racing across the Bowl?" Playful again.
"I understand. You don't have to." Nenita tells him quickly, to head off anything uncomfortable about to happen. The admission of guilt serves only to make her look guilty, as if it were her fault he's feeling that way. The capture of fingers is allowed for and she squeezes back. "It won't feel as bad after awhile." Like she knows anything about this. "I probably can't race you across the bowl. Short legs. I've already given up on most of my exercising." The last is said a little challangingly, because... well, why not?
"No it won't," P'draig agrees readily. "It's already a more occasional thing. But it does come up, that's all," the brownrider explains further and the apple's core is set down next to his half-empty glass. Fingers brush towards her cheek as he catches that guilty look on her face. "Nenny, it's okay," he says softly. "I'm not going to keel over and die or anything. It's just kind of a complicated pea soup of emotions all wound up, so it can be a tough subject to cover and not exactly 'casual conversation' fodder." He starts to chuckle lowly at that last of hers though. "Most ... but not all? What still counts as exercise?"
"That's comforting." Nenita replies, if just a little on the dry side. She squeezes his fingers one more time before letting them go, standing away from the table and getting a full stretch in. "Ah, walking counts? Sometimes I lift something heavy and work out my arms. Now and again I go for a swim. I exercise my mouth frequently and my attitude. Other than that I have to admit I've been woefully negligent."
P'draig's hand flattens back down to the tabletop and he leans there a little heavily, though his gaze is caught by that stretch. "It seems to be working out pretty well for you, all of that," the brownrider notes, with a little glint of humor in his eyes. "Including the attitude. As for the negligence, well, you know I'm available for a full work out. After all, you might need to crack heads together at some point and woe unto us if you can't," P'draig teases.
"I try to eat a little less to make up for my lack of physical activity. Otherwise I'd probably be around two hundred pounds right around now." Nenita glances towards the exit to the bowl, perhaps mentally gauging whatever time it must be. "Oh no, as much as I appreciate it... I think I might a not-so-secret vow right out of weyrlinghood never to fully work out again. And that's what bronzeriders are for, cracking heads."
"It's late," P'draig says quietly, noticing that look. "Only bronzeriders?" is asked with humor and he picks up his glass finishes off its contents and drops the core inside of it. "Walk you home?" he offers, tone casual.
It is late. Nenita offers her arm out to him, because it's obviously the polite thing to do. "And brownriders as well. Though bronzeriders are known for following a bit more blindly sometimes." She gives him an amused smile and inclines her head towards the exit. "Sure, kiss good night and everything."
"Are they?" P'driag queries, looking down at the Weyrwoman as he gets their arms hooked together and he drops his empty glass and the apple core in the bins on the way by. "I guess blind following has it's uses," Paddy muses thoughtfully then looks down at her, his grin wide and boyish. "I'm a very lucky man, you know that?"
"Yes, I think that it definitely does." Nenita replies maybe a little airily as the proceed out into the open air of the bowl. "And they do." When that boyish grin of his spreads over his face, she tilts her chin up to give him an amused smile of her own. "Why do you happen to be very lucky, P'draig?"
"Don't let it go to your head," P'draig warns her teasingly about the power to command the mighty bronzerider, subspecies, draconus bronzus. But as they amble away from the cavern and across the darkness of the Bowl towards her ledge, he smiles again and leans down a little. "A lot of reasons. I have a good life, when you get down to it. Great weyrmate. Great kids. Wonderful brown dragon. Good job." He takes a breath, lets it out. "But I'm also lucky, because I have you on my arm and I get to see you smile, even though we're both tired as dogs. And in a little bit, I'll get to kiss you good night."
"Shouldn't I let it get to my head a little bit? You know, to go along with the attitude." Nenita winks up at him and wiggles her arm so that she can wrap it around his waist. "It's nice to someone who's so satisified with life. I wish I could feel that way. Still got that dogged urge to keep on digging under the fence, if you know what I mean." She laughs a little and shakes her head. "I do enjoy our nightly walks back to my weyr. And the good night kiss."
"What, so you can float away?" P'draig teases further and shifts his arm around her shoulders as hers goes around his waist. Full foot height difference! "Faranth willing, that'll come in time," the brownrider says sincerely. "There were times I'd never get to be you know, here. In a place like this with my life. It feels good to be there though," Paddy continues thoughtfully and nods. "Yeah. More to find out there," he adds with a grin and tilts his head back to look up at the sky for a moment then looks back down at her. "Things not to be missed." Her ledge is nearing though, the walk coming to an end and Paddy slows just a little as the promontory of stone emerges from the darkness.
"Safriath is a large gold, she can always use the help with flying." Nenita comments jokingly, waving her free hand in the direction of her ledge. "I guess it all has to do with the growing pains. We never know where life takes us... Hopefully I won't have to wait until I'm a little old woman to decide I'm content and happy and the luckiest woman on the planet." She winks up at him and as they near the stairs she slows to stop, eventually unwinding her arm from about his waist.
"Mm, anything to help Ista's senior queen, eh?" P'draig makes the last joking comment on that theme and nods, expression serious now. "No, we don't. All any of us can really do is roll with the punches as they come and try to find some measure of contentment in the spaces in between, in the good things we do have," he muses thoughtfully, then laughs, turns to her as her arm departs. His hands both lift, aiming to cup her face gently. "I don't think it'll be that long, Nenny, I really don't." Paddy bends to kiss her, meaning to make this one rather sweet, but he is who he is and it'll turn ardent before long if it gets that far.
Nenita laughs, making an mmhmm noise of confirmation as she steps back, facing him instead of walking besides him. "Seeing the forest for the trees? Something like that?" She asks as she stays still for his hands to cup her face, coming up on her toes to try and meet him. She'll continue to kiss him while it's sweet and even for a little while in the beginning when it tries to grow into something more than good night, but she'll stop somewhere shy of the point of no return. When she does pull back it'll be to give him a breathless kiss on the cheek.
"Forest for the trees," P'draig echoes on the tail end of that kiss, shy in the breath department himself and his arm close around her for a fierce hug. "Sleep well, Nenita," the brownrider says quietly down near her ear. "I'll see you tomorrow likely." He smiles into the kiss to his cheek, then straightens. "Also, they're breaking ground soon for the cothold-restaurant. Save an evening next seven for dinner with me?" Hopeful.
"I'm sure I can find some time in my schedule next week." Nenita wiggles her shoulders, maybe in an attempt to cover up the slight chill you can get from someone being so close to your ear like that. "I'll see you tomorrow." She gives him another brief squeeze before pulling away and hurriedly going up the stairs into her weyr.
"Save that date," P'draig says as he steps back, hands retreating with some reluctance. "Good night," he calls after her softly and lingers for a moment right there, head tilted back, eyes closed, just breathing. Takes a moment to compose himself, then turns about to go rouse Jekzith from where he's been napping in the garden post-flight and make his way home. T'mic might also be a very very lucky man tonight, yep.