LOG: Running in the galleries
Date: Day 15, Month 4, Turn 26
Location: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Cadejoth catches Nathalia running in the galleries. K'del intercedes. Nicely.
Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr
Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black.
The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat.
It's a cool spring evening, not that you can tell in the heat of the Hatching Galleries, not that that is stopping anyone from using the stairs. A Candidate can be seen sprinting the steps, and from the look of her she's been at it quite a while.
Out on the sands, Iovniath and her mate are drowsing, though the pale, green-tinged bronze's tail keeps flicking every so often, suggesting he isn't /completely/ asleep. He must not be, indeed, because his rider appears on the sands from the lower entrance, frowning steadily before he crosses them and climbs up towards the galleries, coming to an eventual halt at the foot of those stairs. He hesitates, eyeing Nathalia as she sprints.
Oh crap. That seems to be the expression on Nat's face when she spots the rider, or more accurately his knot. She stops just short having to tilt her chin up to look the man in the face. "I er . . . um. . . couldn't sleep sorry." Eyeing the dragon tail flicking she seems all the more sheepish. "Didn't mean to disturb anyone. . ."
"It's, uh," begins K'del, looking as though he might have been in bed not that long before-- his hair is rumpled, and so is his shirt. "They're a bit edgy," he explains, then. "And Cadejoth's not particularly thrilled about the idea that you could fall, and--" Hit the sands. Break an egg. /Something/ along those lines. "Probably best if you don't run around in here, okay?"
Nat's ears are red, as she speaks. "I . . yeah. . should have thought about that . . . Saw Taikrin doing sprints the other night . . . thought I might try it. . edgy lately. . . should have realized with the egg . . ." She frowns before looking up. "Won't happen again sir, Sorry." Finally managing to string a sentence together. Noticing the state of his clothing its clear that she feels even worse. "I hope I'm not the reason your up, even if I am, I guess . . . What's the extra duties to be." Clearly she has been more used to asking for extra work than carrying on a conversation lately.
K'del looks utterly unimpressed at mention of Taikrin, and mutters something inaudible beneath his breath before he's calm enough to say, "Well, she shouldn't have been doing it, either. I'm sorry-- it's not your fault, you didn't know." He's gone faintly pink, and it can't entirely be from the heat here in the galleries. "Extra duties? Oh-- shells, no, it's fine. Just don't do it again, okay?"
Thick brows knit together in suspicion, as the small girl lifts her chin again. "You sure? Last chance to have someone scrub the latrines somewhat willingly for a month." A wide mischievous grin spreads fairly quickly at that. "Lesson learned, when in a weyr, do not disturb brooding dragons." She offers, relaxing a little now that she's not completely in trouble. "Its funny no matter what I do in this place to get along with others or stay /out/ of trouble, just seems to get me into more of a mess."
"'Somewhat willingly'?" K'del's own brows raise, dubious and surprised. "I doubt that. No, no, it's fine. And-- yeah. In a weyr, that's probably a pretty good piece of advice, in general. It's not like they'd hurt you, but--" But. Enough said. The young Weyrleader gives Nathalia a twisted smile, then adds, "I guess there're lots of prickly people about? Or-- I don't know. You just have to be careful, I guess."
Nat laughs a little at the lift of the brow, but just shrugs. "Ok so maybe not latrines, but If I go ask the Headwoman for another task to keep busy I think her head is going to explode." She nods though taking the issue of brooding dragons seriously. "With what's already happened, it's understandable." She says glancing over the eggs, eyes coming to rest on her favorite. "Prickly I think is an understatement, but I guess everyone's stressed right now. . ." She shrugs. "Not sure how you keep sane here, or from breaking a few noses for that matter."
"We /don't/ want that," emphasises K'del, a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. "Giorda's got enough on her plate, I reckon. Guess a lot of us do." The hand that runs through his hair is self-conscious, even edging towards awkward, though his tone remains even enough. "It's not usually this bad. Things are just, uh, a bit difficult at the moment, I guess." There's a beat, and he turns his attention from Nathalia towards the eggs, then back again. "You're a candidate?"
Nat giggles and nods. "I do what I can to help, I think I ended up helping two other candidates get situated this week." She smiles though, in part at his awkwardness, and in part at the assertion that things were usually not so tense. She can't help but laugh a little. "Yes, searched by Warucori and Zaxameth." She grins, "Apprentice Blacksmith before that, if you can believe it."
"Good for you," says K'del, pleasantly. "And congratulations on being Searched. I admit, you, uh, /don't/ strike me as the usual kind of Smith, but what would I know, I guess." He tucks his shirt in, then, as if realising the extent of his dishevelment; it takes a few moments, during which time he's relatively quiet. Then, "Well - good luck, I guess? I ought to get back."
"Thanks, and I get that a lot, so don't worry." She laughs. "I hope things get better, dealing with the holds and the exiles I mean." She offers nodding. "Thanks, I should probably find some place else to do sprints." She offers. "Nice meeting you though."
"You, too," says K'del, firmly, before he heads back down the stairs to the sands, and from there, back towards the Weyrleader Complex beyond.
Location: Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr
Synopsis: Cadejoth catches Nathalia running in the galleries. K'del intercedes. Nicely.
Hatching Galleries, High Reaches Weyr
Ringing the southwestern side of the hatching sands are ample tiers of carved stone benches, the lowest of which is some six feet off the ground -- just high enough to separate wayward hatchlings from unwary viewers, and vice versa. A metal railing on the outside helps prevent anyone from falling off; it also extends up the stairs that lead the way higher into the galleries. While most of the area is open seating, ropes section off some of the closer tiers when dignitaries are expected; those areas even feature cushions in the Weyr's blue and black.
The higher one climbs, the more apparent the immense scale of the entire cavern becomes. The dragon-sized entrance on the ground is dwarfed by the expansive golden sands that glitter in the light. Everything on them is easily visible from the galleries, whether that's a clutch of eggs and a broody queen, or simply its emptiness and the handful of darker tunnels that lead to more private areas than the bowl. Wherever one sits or looks, however, one thing is constant: the overwhelming, suffocating heat.
It's a cool spring evening, not that you can tell in the heat of the Hatching Galleries, not that that is stopping anyone from using the stairs. A Candidate can be seen sprinting the steps, and from the look of her she's been at it quite a while.
Out on the sands, Iovniath and her mate are drowsing, though the pale, green-tinged bronze's tail keeps flicking every so often, suggesting he isn't /completely/ asleep. He must not be, indeed, because his rider appears on the sands from the lower entrance, frowning steadily before he crosses them and climbs up towards the galleries, coming to an eventual halt at the foot of those stairs. He hesitates, eyeing Nathalia as she sprints.
Oh crap. That seems to be the expression on Nat's face when she spots the rider, or more accurately his knot. She stops just short having to tilt her chin up to look the man in the face. "I er . . . um. . . couldn't sleep sorry." Eyeing the dragon tail flicking she seems all the more sheepish. "Didn't mean to disturb anyone. . ."
"It's, uh," begins K'del, looking as though he might have been in bed not that long before-- his hair is rumpled, and so is his shirt. "They're a bit edgy," he explains, then. "And Cadejoth's not particularly thrilled about the idea that you could fall, and--" Hit the sands. Break an egg. /Something/ along those lines. "Probably best if you don't run around in here, okay?"
Nat's ears are red, as she speaks. "I . . yeah. . should have thought about that . . . Saw Taikrin doing sprints the other night . . . thought I might try it. . edgy lately. . . should have realized with the egg . . ." She frowns before looking up. "Won't happen again sir, Sorry." Finally managing to string a sentence together. Noticing the state of his clothing its clear that she feels even worse. "I hope I'm not the reason your up, even if I am, I guess . . . What's the extra duties to be." Clearly she has been more used to asking for extra work than carrying on a conversation lately.
K'del looks utterly unimpressed at mention of Taikrin, and mutters something inaudible beneath his breath before he's calm enough to say, "Well, she shouldn't have been doing it, either. I'm sorry-- it's not your fault, you didn't know." He's gone faintly pink, and it can't entirely be from the heat here in the galleries. "Extra duties? Oh-- shells, no, it's fine. Just don't do it again, okay?"
Thick brows knit together in suspicion, as the small girl lifts her chin again. "You sure? Last chance to have someone scrub the latrines somewhat willingly for a month." A wide mischievous grin spreads fairly quickly at that. "Lesson learned, when in a weyr, do not disturb brooding dragons." She offers, relaxing a little now that she's not completely in trouble. "Its funny no matter what I do in this place to get along with others or stay /out/ of trouble, just seems to get me into more of a mess."
"'Somewhat willingly'?" K'del's own brows raise, dubious and surprised. "I doubt that. No, no, it's fine. And-- yeah. In a weyr, that's probably a pretty good piece of advice, in general. It's not like they'd hurt you, but--" But. Enough said. The young Weyrleader gives Nathalia a twisted smile, then adds, "I guess there're lots of prickly people about? Or-- I don't know. You just have to be careful, I guess."
Nat laughs a little at the lift of the brow, but just shrugs. "Ok so maybe not latrines, but If I go ask the Headwoman for another task to keep busy I think her head is going to explode." She nods though taking the issue of brooding dragons seriously. "With what's already happened, it's understandable." She says glancing over the eggs, eyes coming to rest on her favorite. "Prickly I think is an understatement, but I guess everyone's stressed right now. . ." She shrugs. "Not sure how you keep sane here, or from breaking a few noses for that matter."
"We /don't/ want that," emphasises K'del, a smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. "Giorda's got enough on her plate, I reckon. Guess a lot of us do." The hand that runs through his hair is self-conscious, even edging towards awkward, though his tone remains even enough. "It's not usually this bad. Things are just, uh, a bit difficult at the moment, I guess." There's a beat, and he turns his attention from Nathalia towards the eggs, then back again. "You're a candidate?"
Nat giggles and nods. "I do what I can to help, I think I ended up helping two other candidates get situated this week." She smiles though, in part at his awkwardness, and in part at the assertion that things were usually not so tense. She can't help but laugh a little. "Yes, searched by Warucori and Zaxameth." She grins, "Apprentice Blacksmith before that, if you can believe it."
"Good for you," says K'del, pleasantly. "And congratulations on being Searched. I admit, you, uh, /don't/ strike me as the usual kind of Smith, but what would I know, I guess." He tucks his shirt in, then, as if realising the extent of his dishevelment; it takes a few moments, during which time he's relatively quiet. Then, "Well - good luck, I guess? I ought to get back."
"Thanks, and I get that a lot, so don't worry." She laughs. "I hope things get better, dealing with the holds and the exiles I mean." She offers nodding. "Thanks, I should probably find some place else to do sprints." She offers. "Nice meeting you though."
"You, too," says K'del, firmly, before he heads back down the stairs to the sands, and from there, back towards the Weyrleader Complex beyond.