Delivering Post, Collecting Candidates
Who: Dashaya, G'dri, Tadia (NPC-Dash) (( Khameth ))
When: It is an autumn afternoon, day 26, month 11, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Courtyard, Peyton Hold
What: G'dri meets two of Peyton's daughters whilst playing mailman. Khameth likes them both but only one gets asked to come home with them.
With the bonus of added-in-after dragon chatter!
Skirts rustle with the subtle whisper of sisal and linen as a few females take up residence in the courtyard of the minor hold, a variety of colors of every shade and hue sitting leisurely amid the stones and flowers, just enjoying the cool of the clear day while others of the hold bustle about seemingly oblivious to their presence. Chattering like buzzing vtols, two brunettes separate themselves from the group by rising and starting off toward a cluster of red flowers, pencils and sketch pads in tow. Spreaking her skirts about her on a patch of green grass, Dashaya settles her pad on her knees and motions the other to settle beside her. "Come on, you promised you would draw me, not those silly flowers," the younger of the two plies with a begging edge to her tone, granting Dash to sigh and flip open pages and set the tip of the pencil to the paper.
An odd clash of darkness and fire: black hair crowns her head in a tempestuous mane of thick curls with wispy strands surrounding her comely oval face, the color echoing in her long lashes and contrasting sharply against the unusual gold and amber brown of her eyes. Such a knife-edged spark those eyes carry, so expressive with an aura about her ever changing from one emotion to another. A straight nose and a full mouth complete the polished look of her face, her skin smooth and fair and hardly touched by the sun. Even her hands have the softness of one never exposed to the hardship of this thing called 'work'. Perhaps a little too slim for even her average 5'4 height, her frame still gives the impression of a pampered lifestyle with all the grace and elegance in her movement of a lady.
Her clothes may appear simple from a distance, but at close range, they're most certainly always made from sumputeous fabrics that are soft and velvety to the touch in the form of dresses or skirts. The richness in appearance continues into the rich colors and painstaking detail in the embellishments and trims, though the cut is usually a conservative one.
Down from the blue sky into this idyllic little scene enters one cobalt blue dragon, blocky of form and scarred, with cerulean highlights flashing in bright contrast. Sunlight glows almost purple through dark 'sails, a trick of optics. Aiming for a clear patch, with a warning but somehow cheerful-sounding bugle just incase anyone is silly enough to miss the shadow growing bigger upon the ground. He lands hard, as if the ground came up faster than anticipated, hind feet hitting with such a *thump* of sound. With a twitching tail and a flip of wings, the dragon settles and his rider dismounts, the knot upon his shoulder and badges upon his jacket marking him from Fort Weyr. Helmet, goggles, gloves all get removed, latter two items stuffed into the former before it's hung from a loop attached to the straps. A wide leather satchel is unfastened then, and then the dark-haired but greying man is setting off towards the Hold's main entrance, leaving the dragon to sit and watch what activity there is with brightly whirling eyes.
Feathery flicks of her hand lead Dashaya into outlining the basic shape of her sister's face in light lines, dropping the pencil into a little pouch on her hip and searching about in its confines to withdraw another shade. Adding these to the drawing, she turns the pencil onto its side and smudges a line to where it should be. The other girl's eyes have been caught by the scarred figure of the blue that interrupts the peace of the moment, but it's the bugle that casts Dash's hand awry, since she'd had her back to the scene unfolding and her head bent to her work flicking out the face more from memory than from sight for all she was studying her. "Bullocks!" Hissed in lieu of a real curse, amber-brown eyes turn over her shoulder with a bit of a glare, but the fact that it is actually a dragon and not an errant holder playing some wild hoax upon them smoothes the look into a polite one, scrutinizing the colors. The younger fairly bounces to her feet and starts over in the direction the rider had started to go. "Tadia! Get back here," she fairly grumbles after the exhuberant girl and rises to her feet, shaking out her skirts to head that way. "Peyton's greetings to Fort. If you're looking for the holder, he is in a meeting with the guard captain."
Movement! When the young girl bounces to her feet, the blue's head swings in that direction. Though movement from the other side of the courtyard has it swinging back again. There doesn't seem to have been any warning, since the rider's steps don't slow until the polite greeting comes, at which point he stops and turns to face she who spoke. "Fort's greetings to Peyton, miss," he replies, his voice smooth. The bow that accompanies those words is also smooth, performed with an ease of practice that makes it a natural gesture, not merely over-exaggerated politeness. This is a man who would bow to a scullery maid. "While I do have a couple missives for Lord Peyton, I was in fact directed to seek out your Steward, instead." With bright blue eyes glancing between the girls, he tilts his head. "Would you perhaps be so kind as to direct me?" And, to fully cover the grounds of proper manners, "I am G'dri, Khameth's," with a nod for stocky over there.
A faint whistle of birdsong at the back of his thoughts tugged at the bluerider's attention, before the hushed tones of Khameth's voice came on a vibrant wash of green leaves and golden sunlight. << Oh, G'dri, look at the difference in how they move. Isn't it interesting? There's always such contrasts in you humans. >>
However in the country the hold may be, there seems to be at least some courtesy still being taught by the hold's Harper as the girls dip into neat little curtseys if only in simple response, though Tadia's energy is still something that is nearly palatable. "Well met, bluerider G'dri. I am Dashaya, one of the holder's children. My sister, Tadia." An indicative hand shifts to introduce the younger with those slow, careful nuances of her voice, though attentive to the situation. "Of course. He should be in his office about this time." Just before she could get even a quarter of the way through the directions, Tadia sets her elbow into her sister's ribs, shaking her head. "He's in the hall, seeking a late lunch. I saw him go past not a few minutes ago!" Eyeing her sister, she reluctantly nods her head. Well, then. "If you go right inside, it is quite easy to find."
Given the shape and depth of those lines that already mark his face, that G'dri has a warm smile for each girl in turn may not be surprising. "Well met miss Dashaya, miss Tadia," he replies with an inclination of his head to each as their names are repeated with careful pronunciation. Quite patient, this rider, ready to wait through direction or, as it turns out, exuberant interruption. "My thanks to you both. If you will excuse me?" Because it's rude to just walk off, after all.
"Of course. I hope you find him well enough. Good day to you, bluerider," Dashaya offers a soft inclination of her head toward the rider and takes her sister's hand to start to direct her back toward the place they were before. Something pauses her though - which might be the younger's whisper in her ear. Instead, she alights on the bench the ladies had already vacated previously, flipping the pages back open to a new page this time and flicking the pencils back into play briskly wit hthe younger hanging over her shoulder to watch. If anything says what image she's going to start, it might be the layout of the dragon and his straps, by the glance stolen here and there.
Thus dismissed, the fading smile broadening again, G'dri tips his head towards both girls again and turns to complete his earlier course inside the Hold. Khameth has been as he was as soon as he got settled, watching, head weaving and bobbing as his attention follows each new activity or person passing by that catches his attention. If his rider's calm about all the wing fluttering and tail swinging is any indication, this is actually normal behaviour. It's /new/ and /different/ and oh there's a woman with a large wicker basket propped on her hip, let's watch her for a while. Eventually however, the energy is allowed to settle, blunt tail curving around haunches while the dragon waits for his rider's return. Maybe he even recognises sketch pads -- there's something of a posing quality as he cocks his heavy-jawed head at the girls. Pretty of form he really isn't, so solid, but he makes up for that with that gorgeously vibrant hide.
<< I -like- it here, I would like to stay for a little while. May we? >> The sense of waving jungle fronds and looping vines was enriched by the muted rustlings and strange shadows of hidden movement. Khameth did so love observing 'new' places, though they'd been here before. He just couldn't remember. << Oh, look, -look.- That one, the graceful one. She is an artist, too! >>
Scribble-scratch goes the pencil over the pad with a practiced ease, though the tip paused as the frame of the great beast moves about into such a pose, Dash's eyebrow quirking upwards. "Someone is a vain dragon." Amusedly murmured to her sister, she doesn't wait for a reply and switches out pencils to a darker shade to start coloring in the lengthy outline, grazing blues with a dapple of purple where the sun plays out over the hide. Playing with scars and the distinct sturdiness of one with such a frame. She pauses again carefully, eyeing Khameth over the end of the pad and turning the stylus to chew upon the end. Someone was having trouble with the waggling tail.
Khameth's going to become even more difficult, the second G'dri steps back out of the Hold. It's taken him a few minutes longer than might be expected. Maybe he got stopped again, or ended up speaking with the Steward for longer than expected. Or possibly, asked if he'd just be so kind to take this packet of letters since he's here anyway? With the satchel now on the opposite shoulder, he steps back out into the daylight, eyes all crinkly as he squints. Against the light, or in response to the eager warble that greets him. The dragon flares his wings out wide, wider, widest, his head lifting as high as it'll stretch. Ahhhhhhh.
Khameth is eager, excited, distracting with the brightly coloured flashes of strange avians that swirled around his thoughts as he sought a closer meld with his rider. << I want to meet this one. I didn't get to meet the other one. Bring her. Bring them both. But especially her. >>
With a chuckle, G'dri looks around, eyebrows lifting slightly until he spots the girls on the bench and he directs his steps that way. "Ladies," and there's that smile again, "I would like to thank you again for your assistance." And yes he's trying to discreetly get a peek at that sketch pad, though he's not going to be pushy about it. "Perhaps you'd like a formal introduction?"
Dashaya perks up at the change in Khameth's manner and follows the gaze that way, though her hand remains in motion without having to look at it for a few seconds before pausing and laying the color down again, setting the pad down flat on her knees in plain view. Some talent in it in her own way, neat and concise but with a play of the sun's rays in the clear sky and faded greens and greys of the grass and stones about the subject. "Of course. You found the steward well enough, I hope? Ah, we-" Before she can get much out again, the other girl takes the spotlight again. "Oh, I would," Tadia eagerly tones with a distinct slip of the ladylike mask away under her exuberance. "He's so, so.." She seems to come up at a loss and turns her eyes beseechingly toward Dashaya to provide the right word to complete her statement, who drops her head to hide her smirk. "Kinetic. Like you." At her blank look, her smirk grows. "Always in motion. Yes, bluerider, it looks like we would like to be introduced, if it isn't too much of a bother."
Even someone as unassuming, if well turned out, as G'dri finds open pleasure at seeing the subject of that drawing. Of course, well, it -is- his lifemate there on the page and even old dragonriders still get sappy now and then. "You have quite a hand, miss Dashaya," he compliments. Of course for all he knows, young Blooded ladies are always encouraged to some sort of sedate and pretty hobby. He at least is quite sincere. "I did, yes," which is about all he can interject in turn with Tadia's exuberance. He watches the interplay between the sisters alertly, blue eyes intent upon each girl in turn. He laughs richly at Dash's chosen discriptor, "He loves seeing new places, watching new people. Of course for him, after a time, every place we visit is new again. And it will be no bother at all, I assure you. He's quite sociable, and has been watching you drawing together. He's curious." And what the dragon wants, the dragon gets~! With a polite gesture, he waits until the girls have risen to their feet before escorting them over to the blue, who drops his head and noses with extreme gentleness at each one in turn. "Miss Dashaya, miss Tadia, allow me to present Khameth." Waaarble.
"My mother was a journeyman with Harper Hall back in the day," Dashaya reveals with a thankful nod, not in the way that one arrogantly does, but in the simple stating of fact. It is what it is. At seeing the rider's pleased look, she lifts her hand to work the single page loose from the sketch pad in the midst of the rest with great care so that the edges would not tear as it comes from the stack. Thusly done, she offers over the drawing to him with a lift of her fingers. "With my compliments. He has proven to be an.. interesting subject to work with." Working with his constant energy and and the swish of his tail in his way. "Oh, has he? I thought I saw him making a great ham of himself while I sketched." She pulls herself to her feet and straightens her skirts around her as she speaks, dipping her head and following after with her sister bouncing on her heels. Laughter finally erupts in a brief chuckle when she's nudged, her hand light and feathery as much as it would be over the papers to touch the dragonhide if he wouldn't mind. "A pleasure, Khameth."
<< Just -look- at them together! I could watch them all day. >> Attention divided between the girls. Then with a sudden whooshing flutter of a great many wings, Khameth's mental jungle opened up and G'dri had a familiar yet still bizarre moment where he was standing both in Peyton's courtyard and yet also in the midst of strange stone ruins covered in moss and vines and draped with flowers. << /Her./ She is so very interesting. Ask her. Now. >>
G'dri tilts his head anew at Dashaya, "Ah, I see." Simple. When that page comes loose and is offered, his brows lift again and his smile all but makes his eyes disappear into that web of lines bracketing them. "That is most kind, I thank you," he replies, accepting the paper gingerly before executing another of those bows of his. A bit deeper this time, in gratitude. Of course that little gift just has Khameth all the more eager for them to get over there already, tail lashing back and forth, back and forth. Again the rider's laughter rings out, full and uninhibited, "He was attempting to see how you would react. He loves to observe behavior." Khameth does indeed not mind being touched, even croons encouragingly at the feel of her hands and bumps his nose up lightly to try to make that light touch firmer. Whirling eyes are keen, as G'dri's hand too comes to rest upon his hide. Taking a deep breath, the bluerider nods once and then says, abruptly, "Miss Dashaya." Sorry, Tadia. "As you are perhaps aware, Fort currently has a clutch upon our Sands. Khameth has indicated to me his desire that you return with us, to Stand. Would you accept?" Wanting -her- answer, and they can work things out with her family after.
"Is only right that you have it, a representation of your friend." Dashaya offers in a way of bluster ing the thanks aside with a little smile and firms her hands on the big muzzle, rubbing over it to find a ridge to scratch like one finds naturally when petting someone else's dog. "I'm not regularly presented with a dragon's nose against my stomach, but I have a large number of brothers that are active and like to ride the larger runners and tromp through the wood and scare their little sisters like boy are wont to do. So a nudge shan't make me jump." Low and controlled with the distinct edge of one related random trivia there. But as soon as that's said, she just stops to stare at the rider, while Tadia's eyes round and her hands tug at the older girl's arm. "Of course she will. Won't you, Dash? Oh, do, say yes. Though.. Father won't like this." Shaking herself from the shock, Dash extracts her hand from the clutching vice. "Puh, father, /Grandmother/ would say the hold must do its duty to the Weyr." Taking a lengthy moment to consider, she finally closes the sketch pad and stows her pencils in her pouch. "I would, accept that is. Honored." Of course.
There's a briefly considering look for the way she skips away from receiving gratitude, but G'dri doesn't remark upon it. Also too, her words about brothers and the way they are delivered, though it's confined to his eyes. His expression remains calmly cheerful, his demeanor quiet and still. Just to provide contrast. "He seeks not to scare or startle," he does feel compelled to point out. Again there's some trace of amusement as he watches the interplay between the sisters, and he does linger on Tadia for a moment or two. Who knows, maybe some day. Just not today. He is patient throughout, though his smile broadens markedly and Khameth just has to warble again. When the acceptance finally comes, "Excellent!" It's the most vibrancy seen out of him yet, if his grin is discounted. "If you wish, I will inform-" not ask "-your father. There is no immediate need for us to rush you away -- you have time to say any farewells you desire, to pack your belongings. If you wish to, we can take you back today, or return and collect you within the next few." The dragon lifts his head up sharply at that, blowing an unhappy -- and stinky -- breath onto his rider.
<< /Now/ G'dri! >>
:: That would be both improper and impolite. She has accepted, she will come. Now -hush.- ::
"Of course not, bluerider. I would hope not." Dashaya assures G'dri that she never believed such, seeming amused but calm enough in it. "Ah, you may, if you like. He would likely take it better from one from the Weyr. I should have to take a little time, I fear." Holder child, so there might be a few things to chose from in packing, of course, the tone implies. Tadia, not seeming to mind that she's being left behind at the moment, covers her mouth with a little trill of laughter at the blown breath, burying her face into her sister's shoulder laughing. "Liar. She doesn't like heights." Dash clamps a hand over Tadia's mouth with a hiss.
"Please," and this will include Tadia as well, "call me G'dri." And never mind that even in his working leathers the bluerider always somehow manages to look neat and presentable, he still takes a moment to make sure he's as orderly as he requires himself to be. "You said he was in a meeting. If you could perhaps guide me to his location while your sister collects her things?" Directed solely to Tadia, that request. He was ready to take whatever Dashaya said at face value, though her sister's interjection sees yet another sharpening of his gaze upon the young woman just Searched. "It is actually well that I know that, candidate Dashaya," so she can start getting used to her new title. "I can make sure that Khameth flies smooth and calm, and once at the Weyr it can be arranged with others to take you aloft, up to the Starstones, other locations. We will not attempt to overwhelm you with it," hastening to reassure, "but it is an issue that will have to be addressed -should- you find a lifemate on the Sands. The sooner your preparation begins, the better off you will be." Isn't she just -lucky?-
In spite of how assuring G'dri tries to be, the look in Dashaya's eyes is less than convinced, but she squares her shoulders and schools her features in a calm agreement after shooting a glance that clearly reads 'Traitor!' to the girl. While she does this, Tadia grins and pries her sister's hand away. "Gladly, G'dri. He's been in there most of the afternoon, so I hope he is soon done. If you'll follow my this way, his study is back here.." Tadia trails off into random babbling as she starts to wander away, the words soon being lost to the bustle of the courtyard. When she notes no one is following, she does pause to wait at the Hold's doors for the rider in clear view. Agh. Dashaya herself presses her lips together but bows her head. "..Thank you, G'dri. I will go and.. collect my things." And with that, she goes to.. do that so they can get on with it. Oh, woe is her, the poor, poor girl. Lucky indeed.
There's a mild facepalm for Tadia just up and wandering off, but then again maybe G'dri should have waited to make his request until the end rather than in the middle. The rumbling little whuffle from Khameth is almost like a chuckle, which earns the blue a distracted thump. And while there's some sympathy in blue eyes for Dashaya, when they get back to the Weyr he -will- be making sure the appropriate people are made aware they've got one with a need to develop a head for heights, however a reluctant one it may be. With an inclination of his head, though he might dog her steps a little ways unless she's veering off in another direction before those main doors are reached. On the trip to the study he'll quite cheerfully chat with or just let Tadia babble, whichever is easiest. And while he'll be on his utmost polite and courteous behaviour with Lord Peyton, he will also be firm. Until eventually they meet out in the courtyard again, and if she has no heavy jacket of her own his own will be given to her for the journey -- he'll survive a bit of cold. Belongings fastened, Dash handed up Khameth's back, all necessary straps buckled and cinched. "Close your eyes if it will make it easier, and I will give you fair warning of each stage." From take off, to :between:, to the slightly aggrieved "Brace yourself, we're going to land. Hard." when they arrive at the other side at Fort Weyr. To get things sorted with the Headwoman, the new knot bestowed, explanation of chore roster and 'rules' of conduct, and finally to have her all settled in within the barracks. He'll leave her with -- surprise! -- another bow, and the offer of his time should she have any questions or simply a desire to talk.
When: It is an autumn afternoon, day 26, month 11, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Where: Courtyard, Peyton Hold
What: G'dri meets two of Peyton's daughters whilst playing mailman. Khameth likes them both but only one gets asked to come home with them.
With the bonus of added-in-after dragon chatter!
Skirts rustle with the subtle whisper of sisal and linen as a few females take up residence in the courtyard of the minor hold, a variety of colors of every shade and hue sitting leisurely amid the stones and flowers, just enjoying the cool of the clear day while others of the hold bustle about seemingly oblivious to their presence. Chattering like buzzing vtols, two brunettes separate themselves from the group by rising and starting off toward a cluster of red flowers, pencils and sketch pads in tow. Spreaking her skirts about her on a patch of green grass, Dashaya settles her pad on her knees and motions the other to settle beside her. "Come on, you promised you would draw me, not those silly flowers," the younger of the two plies with a begging edge to her tone, granting Dash to sigh and flip open pages and set the tip of the pencil to the paper.
An odd clash of darkness and fire: black hair crowns her head in a tempestuous mane of thick curls with wispy strands surrounding her comely oval face, the color echoing in her long lashes and contrasting sharply against the unusual gold and amber brown of her eyes. Such a knife-edged spark those eyes carry, so expressive with an aura about her ever changing from one emotion to another. A straight nose and a full mouth complete the polished look of her face, her skin smooth and fair and hardly touched by the sun. Even her hands have the softness of one never exposed to the hardship of this thing called 'work'. Perhaps a little too slim for even her average 5'4 height, her frame still gives the impression of a pampered lifestyle with all the grace and elegance in her movement of a lady.
Her clothes may appear simple from a distance, but at close range, they're most certainly always made from sumputeous fabrics that are soft and velvety to the touch in the form of dresses or skirts. The richness in appearance continues into the rich colors and painstaking detail in the embellishments and trims, though the cut is usually a conservative one.
Down from the blue sky into this idyllic little scene enters one cobalt blue dragon, blocky of form and scarred, with cerulean highlights flashing in bright contrast. Sunlight glows almost purple through dark 'sails, a trick of optics. Aiming for a clear patch, with a warning but somehow cheerful-sounding bugle just incase anyone is silly enough to miss the shadow growing bigger upon the ground. He lands hard, as if the ground came up faster than anticipated, hind feet hitting with such a *thump* of sound. With a twitching tail and a flip of wings, the dragon settles and his rider dismounts, the knot upon his shoulder and badges upon his jacket marking him from Fort Weyr. Helmet, goggles, gloves all get removed, latter two items stuffed into the former before it's hung from a loop attached to the straps. A wide leather satchel is unfastened then, and then the dark-haired but greying man is setting off towards the Hold's main entrance, leaving the dragon to sit and watch what activity there is with brightly whirling eyes.
Feathery flicks of her hand lead Dashaya into outlining the basic shape of her sister's face in light lines, dropping the pencil into a little pouch on her hip and searching about in its confines to withdraw another shade. Adding these to the drawing, she turns the pencil onto its side and smudges a line to where it should be. The other girl's eyes have been caught by the scarred figure of the blue that interrupts the peace of the moment, but it's the bugle that casts Dash's hand awry, since she'd had her back to the scene unfolding and her head bent to her work flicking out the face more from memory than from sight for all she was studying her. "Bullocks!" Hissed in lieu of a real curse, amber-brown eyes turn over her shoulder with a bit of a glare, but the fact that it is actually a dragon and not an errant holder playing some wild hoax upon them smoothes the look into a polite one, scrutinizing the colors. The younger fairly bounces to her feet and starts over in the direction the rider had started to go. "Tadia! Get back here," she fairly grumbles after the exhuberant girl and rises to her feet, shaking out her skirts to head that way. "Peyton's greetings to Fort. If you're looking for the holder, he is in a meeting with the guard captain."
Movement! When the young girl bounces to her feet, the blue's head swings in that direction. Though movement from the other side of the courtyard has it swinging back again. There doesn't seem to have been any warning, since the rider's steps don't slow until the polite greeting comes, at which point he stops and turns to face she who spoke. "Fort's greetings to Peyton, miss," he replies, his voice smooth. The bow that accompanies those words is also smooth, performed with an ease of practice that makes it a natural gesture, not merely over-exaggerated politeness. This is a man who would bow to a scullery maid. "While I do have a couple missives for Lord Peyton, I was in fact directed to seek out your Steward, instead." With bright blue eyes glancing between the girls, he tilts his head. "Would you perhaps be so kind as to direct me?" And, to fully cover the grounds of proper manners, "I am G'dri, Khameth's," with a nod for stocky over there.
A faint whistle of birdsong at the back of his thoughts tugged at the bluerider's attention, before the hushed tones of Khameth's voice came on a vibrant wash of green leaves and golden sunlight. << Oh, G'dri, look at the difference in how they move. Isn't it interesting? There's always such contrasts in you humans. >>
However in the country the hold may be, there seems to be at least some courtesy still being taught by the hold's Harper as the girls dip into neat little curtseys if only in simple response, though Tadia's energy is still something that is nearly palatable. "Well met, bluerider G'dri. I am Dashaya, one of the holder's children. My sister, Tadia." An indicative hand shifts to introduce the younger with those slow, careful nuances of her voice, though attentive to the situation. "Of course. He should be in his office about this time." Just before she could get even a quarter of the way through the directions, Tadia sets her elbow into her sister's ribs, shaking her head. "He's in the hall, seeking a late lunch. I saw him go past not a few minutes ago!" Eyeing her sister, she reluctantly nods her head. Well, then. "If you go right inside, it is quite easy to find."
Given the shape and depth of those lines that already mark his face, that G'dri has a warm smile for each girl in turn may not be surprising. "Well met miss Dashaya, miss Tadia," he replies with an inclination of his head to each as their names are repeated with careful pronunciation. Quite patient, this rider, ready to wait through direction or, as it turns out, exuberant interruption. "My thanks to you both. If you will excuse me?" Because it's rude to just walk off, after all.
"Of course. I hope you find him well enough. Good day to you, bluerider," Dashaya offers a soft inclination of her head toward the rider and takes her sister's hand to start to direct her back toward the place they were before. Something pauses her though - which might be the younger's whisper in her ear. Instead, she alights on the bench the ladies had already vacated previously, flipping the pages back open to a new page this time and flicking the pencils back into play briskly wit hthe younger hanging over her shoulder to watch. If anything says what image she's going to start, it might be the layout of the dragon and his straps, by the glance stolen here and there.
Thus dismissed, the fading smile broadening again, G'dri tips his head towards both girls again and turns to complete his earlier course inside the Hold. Khameth has been as he was as soon as he got settled, watching, head weaving and bobbing as his attention follows each new activity or person passing by that catches his attention. If his rider's calm about all the wing fluttering and tail swinging is any indication, this is actually normal behaviour. It's /new/ and /different/ and oh there's a woman with a large wicker basket propped on her hip, let's watch her for a while. Eventually however, the energy is allowed to settle, blunt tail curving around haunches while the dragon waits for his rider's return. Maybe he even recognises sketch pads -- there's something of a posing quality as he cocks his heavy-jawed head at the girls. Pretty of form he really isn't, so solid, but he makes up for that with that gorgeously vibrant hide.
<< I -like- it here, I would like to stay for a little while. May we? >> The sense of waving jungle fronds and looping vines was enriched by the muted rustlings and strange shadows of hidden movement. Khameth did so love observing 'new' places, though they'd been here before. He just couldn't remember. << Oh, look, -look.- That one, the graceful one. She is an artist, too! >>
Scribble-scratch goes the pencil over the pad with a practiced ease, though the tip paused as the frame of the great beast moves about into such a pose, Dash's eyebrow quirking upwards. "Someone is a vain dragon." Amusedly murmured to her sister, she doesn't wait for a reply and switches out pencils to a darker shade to start coloring in the lengthy outline, grazing blues with a dapple of purple where the sun plays out over the hide. Playing with scars and the distinct sturdiness of one with such a frame. She pauses again carefully, eyeing Khameth over the end of the pad and turning the stylus to chew upon the end. Someone was having trouble with the waggling tail.
Khameth's going to become even more difficult, the second G'dri steps back out of the Hold. It's taken him a few minutes longer than might be expected. Maybe he got stopped again, or ended up speaking with the Steward for longer than expected. Or possibly, asked if he'd just be so kind to take this packet of letters since he's here anyway? With the satchel now on the opposite shoulder, he steps back out into the daylight, eyes all crinkly as he squints. Against the light, or in response to the eager warble that greets him. The dragon flares his wings out wide, wider, widest, his head lifting as high as it'll stretch. Ahhhhhhh.
Khameth is eager, excited, distracting with the brightly coloured flashes of strange avians that swirled around his thoughts as he sought a closer meld with his rider. << I want to meet this one. I didn't get to meet the other one. Bring her. Bring them both. But especially her. >>
With a chuckle, G'dri looks around, eyebrows lifting slightly until he spots the girls on the bench and he directs his steps that way. "Ladies," and there's that smile again, "I would like to thank you again for your assistance." And yes he's trying to discreetly get a peek at that sketch pad, though he's not going to be pushy about it. "Perhaps you'd like a formal introduction?"
Dashaya perks up at the change in Khameth's manner and follows the gaze that way, though her hand remains in motion without having to look at it for a few seconds before pausing and laying the color down again, setting the pad down flat on her knees in plain view. Some talent in it in her own way, neat and concise but with a play of the sun's rays in the clear sky and faded greens and greys of the grass and stones about the subject. "Of course. You found the steward well enough, I hope? Ah, we-" Before she can get much out again, the other girl takes the spotlight again. "Oh, I would," Tadia eagerly tones with a distinct slip of the ladylike mask away under her exuberance. "He's so, so.." She seems to come up at a loss and turns her eyes beseechingly toward Dashaya to provide the right word to complete her statement, who drops her head to hide her smirk. "Kinetic. Like you." At her blank look, her smirk grows. "Always in motion. Yes, bluerider, it looks like we would like to be introduced, if it isn't too much of a bother."
Even someone as unassuming, if well turned out, as G'dri finds open pleasure at seeing the subject of that drawing. Of course, well, it -is- his lifemate there on the page and even old dragonriders still get sappy now and then. "You have quite a hand, miss Dashaya," he compliments. Of course for all he knows, young Blooded ladies are always encouraged to some sort of sedate and pretty hobby. He at least is quite sincere. "I did, yes," which is about all he can interject in turn with Tadia's exuberance. He watches the interplay between the sisters alertly, blue eyes intent upon each girl in turn. He laughs richly at Dash's chosen discriptor, "He loves seeing new places, watching new people. Of course for him, after a time, every place we visit is new again. And it will be no bother at all, I assure you. He's quite sociable, and has been watching you drawing together. He's curious." And what the dragon wants, the dragon gets~! With a polite gesture, he waits until the girls have risen to their feet before escorting them over to the blue, who drops his head and noses with extreme gentleness at each one in turn. "Miss Dashaya, miss Tadia, allow me to present Khameth." Waaarble.
"My mother was a journeyman with Harper Hall back in the day," Dashaya reveals with a thankful nod, not in the way that one arrogantly does, but in the simple stating of fact. It is what it is. At seeing the rider's pleased look, she lifts her hand to work the single page loose from the sketch pad in the midst of the rest with great care so that the edges would not tear as it comes from the stack. Thusly done, she offers over the drawing to him with a lift of her fingers. "With my compliments. He has proven to be an.. interesting subject to work with." Working with his constant energy and and the swish of his tail in his way. "Oh, has he? I thought I saw him making a great ham of himself while I sketched." She pulls herself to her feet and straightens her skirts around her as she speaks, dipping her head and following after with her sister bouncing on her heels. Laughter finally erupts in a brief chuckle when she's nudged, her hand light and feathery as much as it would be over the papers to touch the dragonhide if he wouldn't mind. "A pleasure, Khameth."
<< Just -look- at them together! I could watch them all day. >> Attention divided between the girls. Then with a sudden whooshing flutter of a great many wings, Khameth's mental jungle opened up and G'dri had a familiar yet still bizarre moment where he was standing both in Peyton's courtyard and yet also in the midst of strange stone ruins covered in moss and vines and draped with flowers. << /Her./ She is so very interesting. Ask her. Now. >>
G'dri tilts his head anew at Dashaya, "Ah, I see." Simple. When that page comes loose and is offered, his brows lift again and his smile all but makes his eyes disappear into that web of lines bracketing them. "That is most kind, I thank you," he replies, accepting the paper gingerly before executing another of those bows of his. A bit deeper this time, in gratitude. Of course that little gift just has Khameth all the more eager for them to get over there already, tail lashing back and forth, back and forth. Again the rider's laughter rings out, full and uninhibited, "He was attempting to see how you would react. He loves to observe behavior." Khameth does indeed not mind being touched, even croons encouragingly at the feel of her hands and bumps his nose up lightly to try to make that light touch firmer. Whirling eyes are keen, as G'dri's hand too comes to rest upon his hide. Taking a deep breath, the bluerider nods once and then says, abruptly, "Miss Dashaya." Sorry, Tadia. "As you are perhaps aware, Fort currently has a clutch upon our Sands. Khameth has indicated to me his desire that you return with us, to Stand. Would you accept?" Wanting -her- answer, and they can work things out with her family after.
"Is only right that you have it, a representation of your friend." Dashaya offers in a way of bluster ing the thanks aside with a little smile and firms her hands on the big muzzle, rubbing over it to find a ridge to scratch like one finds naturally when petting someone else's dog. "I'm not regularly presented with a dragon's nose against my stomach, but I have a large number of brothers that are active and like to ride the larger runners and tromp through the wood and scare their little sisters like boy are wont to do. So a nudge shan't make me jump." Low and controlled with the distinct edge of one related random trivia there. But as soon as that's said, she just stops to stare at the rider, while Tadia's eyes round and her hands tug at the older girl's arm. "Of course she will. Won't you, Dash? Oh, do, say yes. Though.. Father won't like this." Shaking herself from the shock, Dash extracts her hand from the clutching vice. "Puh, father, /Grandmother/ would say the hold must do its duty to the Weyr." Taking a lengthy moment to consider, she finally closes the sketch pad and stows her pencils in her pouch. "I would, accept that is. Honored." Of course.
There's a briefly considering look for the way she skips away from receiving gratitude, but G'dri doesn't remark upon it. Also too, her words about brothers and the way they are delivered, though it's confined to his eyes. His expression remains calmly cheerful, his demeanor quiet and still. Just to provide contrast. "He seeks not to scare or startle," he does feel compelled to point out. Again there's some trace of amusement as he watches the interplay between the sisters, and he does linger on Tadia for a moment or two. Who knows, maybe some day. Just not today. He is patient throughout, though his smile broadens markedly and Khameth just has to warble again. When the acceptance finally comes, "Excellent!" It's the most vibrancy seen out of him yet, if his grin is discounted. "If you wish, I will inform-" not ask "-your father. There is no immediate need for us to rush you away -- you have time to say any farewells you desire, to pack your belongings. If you wish to, we can take you back today, or return and collect you within the next few." The dragon lifts his head up sharply at that, blowing an unhappy -- and stinky -- breath onto his rider.
<< /Now/ G'dri! >>
:: That would be both improper and impolite. She has accepted, she will come. Now -hush.- ::
"Of course not, bluerider. I would hope not." Dashaya assures G'dri that she never believed such, seeming amused but calm enough in it. "Ah, you may, if you like. He would likely take it better from one from the Weyr. I should have to take a little time, I fear." Holder child, so there might be a few things to chose from in packing, of course, the tone implies. Tadia, not seeming to mind that she's being left behind at the moment, covers her mouth with a little trill of laughter at the blown breath, burying her face into her sister's shoulder laughing. "Liar. She doesn't like heights." Dash clamps a hand over Tadia's mouth with a hiss.
"Please," and this will include Tadia as well, "call me G'dri." And never mind that even in his working leathers the bluerider always somehow manages to look neat and presentable, he still takes a moment to make sure he's as orderly as he requires himself to be. "You said he was in a meeting. If you could perhaps guide me to his location while your sister collects her things?" Directed solely to Tadia, that request. He was ready to take whatever Dashaya said at face value, though her sister's interjection sees yet another sharpening of his gaze upon the young woman just Searched. "It is actually well that I know that, candidate Dashaya," so she can start getting used to her new title. "I can make sure that Khameth flies smooth and calm, and once at the Weyr it can be arranged with others to take you aloft, up to the Starstones, other locations. We will not attempt to overwhelm you with it," hastening to reassure, "but it is an issue that will have to be addressed -should- you find a lifemate on the Sands. The sooner your preparation begins, the better off you will be." Isn't she just -lucky?-
In spite of how assuring G'dri tries to be, the look in Dashaya's eyes is less than convinced, but she squares her shoulders and schools her features in a calm agreement after shooting a glance that clearly reads 'Traitor!' to the girl. While she does this, Tadia grins and pries her sister's hand away. "Gladly, G'dri. He's been in there most of the afternoon, so I hope he is soon done. If you'll follow my this way, his study is back here.." Tadia trails off into random babbling as she starts to wander away, the words soon being lost to the bustle of the courtyard. When she notes no one is following, she does pause to wait at the Hold's doors for the rider in clear view. Agh. Dashaya herself presses her lips together but bows her head. "..Thank you, G'dri. I will go and.. collect my things." And with that, she goes to.. do that so they can get on with it. Oh, woe is her, the poor, poor girl. Lucky indeed.
There's a mild facepalm for Tadia just up and wandering off, but then again maybe G'dri should have waited to make his request until the end rather than in the middle. The rumbling little whuffle from Khameth is almost like a chuckle, which earns the blue a distracted thump. And while there's some sympathy in blue eyes for Dashaya, when they get back to the Weyr he -will- be making sure the appropriate people are made aware they've got one with a need to develop a head for heights, however a reluctant one it may be. With an inclination of his head, though he might dog her steps a little ways unless she's veering off in another direction before those main doors are reached. On the trip to the study he'll quite cheerfully chat with or just let Tadia babble, whichever is easiest. And while he'll be on his utmost polite and courteous behaviour with Lord Peyton, he will also be firm. Until eventually they meet out in the courtyard again, and if she has no heavy jacket of her own his own will be given to her for the journey -- he'll survive a bit of cold. Belongings fastened, Dash handed up Khameth's back, all necessary straps buckled and cinched. "Close your eyes if it will make it easier, and I will give you fair warning of each stage." From take off, to :between:, to the slightly aggrieved "Brace yourself, we're going to land. Hard." when they arrive at the other side at Fort Weyr. To get things sorted with the Headwoman, the new knot bestowed, explanation of chore roster and 'rules' of conduct, and finally to have her all settled in within the barracks. He'll leave her with -- surprise! -- another bow, and the offer of his time should she have any questions or simply a desire to talk.