Log: Getting Away with Shanlee
RL: June 4, 2008.
VR: Day 16, month 8, Turn 16, of the Interval. It is a summer afternoon.
(Original log from Shanlee)
Shanlee introduces Leova to one of her favorite getaways and explains a little history.
Red Butte (#6545RJ)
Far from any hold, the timeless, monolithic ridges of Pern's Red Butte rise sharply from the rolling plains. A hundred dragonlengths across at its widest point, the massive butte towers above the surrounding plains, dramatic in its isolation. A few hardy plants twine gnarled roots into nooks and crannies of the speckled red granite to cling to the butte's steeply sloping sides as the harsh wind whips past with a hollow sound. The summit of the Red Butte is rocky and treacherous, a relatively flat expanse of reddish stone cut deeply by radial crevasses. Overlooking spreading plains and rolling green-brown hills, the butte offers a magnificent vista to the horizon in each direction. The vast sky arches overhead, majestically empty of all but the lonesome wind.
The only way off the butte is by dragon.
Summer still in the air, Autumn not quite threatening and the Red Butte has not one but two pairs of greens landed atop its rocky surface. Slipping down to the rock face, Shan’s boots hit with just the barest flash of grimace, “What I tell you? Gorgeous, right?” this spoken up to Leova with an air satisfaction. The carrysack at Kaylith’s side is unbuckled and hefted over a shoulder, “You bring a blanket? Left mine behind. Head’s a little broken today,” no kidding.
Leova turns slowly, eyes slitted against the wind, to eye the landscape much as earlier Vrianth had turned and turned to look and look. "Impressive," she agrees. "I'd say, can't believe I didn't realize when we came here for betweening practice, but you know how it is. Worrying about getting in and out safely, more than the scenery... think I did, but let me double-check. Long morning?"
A soft tap to Kaylith’s shoulder and the little green hunkers down and provides handy shelter from the winds, “Aye, know what you mean. Half the places we went it was a little hazy afterward. Went again with one of the assistant’s again to each.” The carrysack is set down and immediately Shanlee sets to digging around for the wineskin she’d brought with her, a wry quirk of lips turns on to Leova, “Long night.”
"Mmm. Hope it was a good long night, then," Leova teases with a sidelong glance, before getting back to shaking out what has indeed turned out to be a blanket: worn enough to have thin spots here and there, but it's still a blanket, and for Shanlee she's extra careful to wipe off any crumbs and sand off onto the rest of the stone and sand. Wandering closer to Shanlee as Vrianth goes exploring further away, she pauses to crouch by one of the rare plants and check it over, breaking off a leaf to bruise it and give it a sniff.
Shanlee's chuckle is held low, likely out of respect for her pounding head, "From what I can remember, it was...enlightening." Green eyes track the careful sweeping of the blanket, "Not some delicate rose that might bruise if I sit on a crumb you know," teasing mildly as she seats herself crossed-legged. Holding the wineskin up to Leova, "What's it smell like?" that plant.
"Really." Leova keeps her voice down for Shanlee's sake, then, though she does tease her back. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to those nice black leathers. And sort of... sharp? Pungent? Here," and she aims to trade, leaf for wineskin.
“Mmm,” really. Leova’s comment on her attire draws a look down over them, then a bland one to flicker over to the other greenrider, “Just leathers,” yeah right, “Not like its my gather best or anything.” Innate curiosity has the trade easily made and Shanlee recoiling almost instantly at the smell, “Jays! Wake a dead man from his sleep that would.”
"Sounds like it could be useful, then," Leova teases as she eases down to the blanket. Not that she offers to take the leaf back, instead unstoppering the wineskin and giving it a whiff in turn: red or white? Sweet or dry? Vrianth's still wandering, unhurried, nose low to the stone for a better look.
As to the previous night and considerate of the cut to upper lip, Shanlee’s mouth curls into a line that offers an odd blend of smirky amusement, “Knowledge is power so they say.” The unstoppered wineskin offers up the distinct aroma of Benden red if Leova knows her wines. Digging around some more in the ‘sack of hers, the weyrsecond lays out two packages containing herdbeast burgers, several pieces of fruit and last but by no means least, a pair of slightly damaged pastries. Kaylith-the-windbreak, stays where she is tracking Vrianth’s path with idle interest. Conversation come to a lull, the redhead’s light tone breaks out, “So, what you been up to the last few. Anything interesting?”
"So they do." Leova sits back, drinks, eyes lowered to the wineskin. It's only when Shanlee's done laying out that food, when she's ready to pass the wineskin back, that that cut really registers and her gaze fixes on the other greenrider for just that moment. But there's that direct question to attend to, and perhaps Shanlee's even trained her well enough not to ask. "The usual rounds, pretty much. Most exciting thing was getting flagged down by a man whose wife was out in the back fields, went into labor early. Luckily she had a firelizard, don't normally connect lucky and firelizard together, either."
Hunger must be rampant for Shanlee is wolfing down that herdbeast burger likes there’s not another meal to come. Jaws stop their chewing and eyes meet Leova’s, swallowing some and speaking around the rest, two words are distinguishable, “Onyx. Table,” back to chewing. Amusement lifts bright across the fine features, “Flying healer?” and then darken as she perceives the usefulness of firelizards to having been slated. Silence as the redhead reaches for the wineskin and washes down her food, “I’ll have you know that before the Starsmiths could predict the rogue ‘falls, those little critters that went through the training saved more than one hide.”
Onyx. "That's a stone, right?" as Leova digs in, listens, chews. "Right. Healer. Was her first time, too." She takes it easy, keeps it calm, no offense in her own reaction. Instead, "Training, that's the main thing. Not everyone does."
Foregoing the fruit a crumply pastry hovers just before Shanlee’s mouth, “A stone? Oh. No, my feline, as in black as onyx.” Brows flicker up and drop back down again, “Most all that were distributed between the cotholds and traders went in for training down at Harper with then Journeywoman Emmi.” As if on cue, Zetia zips in from *between* circles a few times above the weyrsecond’s head, then lands on her shoulder. A leg with a message tube extends, patiently held out. “Set the program up. Didn’t want one of my own though. She’s Cait’s idea of a joke,” chuckling over her sneaky Istan friend. A lightly concerned look lingers over Leova, “Your ‘hold didn’t have a FEWS trained ‘lizard?”
"Oh! Remember now. Only ever saw his tail, I think. Her tail?" And then there's that firelizard, and Leova's giving it a speculative look, extricating a little chunk of cooked meat from what little is left of her burger. "Pretty time-consuming joke," she says. "Pretty, though. But. FEWS? What's that?"
Fingers pop one at a time into Shanlee’s mouth being sure to get every last one cleaned, or as close to clean as one can get without a bowl and water. Zetia gives that meat Leova has a very, veeery long look, but obediently remains where she is until the message tube is untied. Then, its time to sashay on over to that tantalizing morsel with all the charm the green firelizard can muster. Snorting at Cait’s idea of a joke, “Aye. She’s useful at any rate.” The message doesn’t get extracted, instead the tube is tucked into a jacket pocket for safe keeping. Eyes narrow lightly, “Word never got out your way? Firelizard Early Warning System, FEWS. Firelizards can sense thread in enough time before it falls to warn their handlers.”
Likely it shows that Leova hasn't had much experience with firelizards, if only in the surprise in her smile when Zetia comes to visit her after all. She's not coy with handing the bit over, either, just lets it rest on her fingertips for the green to take, or not. "Might just have missed it," she says. "Wasn't ever likely to have an egg, you know? FEWS. Easy to say, I like that."
The small green head extends and the tidbit is taken with care not to inadvertently nip at Leova’s fingers. There comes too a chirrup, either of thanks or in quest for more, little hard to tell. Shanlee nods in understanding of the other greenrider’s explanation, “Mostly the Lord Holder’s or their kin. But there were times when some were just not suitable for impression, or just didn’t have the patience for the training. Some went to whichever of the ‘hold was good with animals.”
Leova's glance does check with Shanlee before letting the firelizard have any more of her lunch, her laugh low and wry. "Nowhere near any Lord Holders. So that explains that. And Granite, not as though there weren't plenty good with animals there. So you ran it? Or set it up, anyway? Sounds like a story."
Shanlee affords Zetia a stern glance and the little creature withdraws, hops up onto her human's shoulder and wraps herself around the slender neck like a living scarf, "She's opportunistic," dry the smile that accompanies that. "Aaah, yes." Interest flickers in the next, "How'd you know thread was coming then?" to the last query there comes an almost reticent drop of head, "Just figured it out that the firelizards knew. Did some research, gathered some people together. It was Emmi that figured out the actual training and ran it." A slender hand flicks at unseen crumbs from her leather breeches, "Anyhow, not of much import now. Which is a good thing, aye?" Leova is given a half-smile for that.
All the more burger for Leova, who then has her way with the fruit as well as she listens, still with half an eye on Zetia there. "Good survival trait," she supposes along the way. "And the people who needed to know, they told the rest of us." Further eating, and listening is followed by, "Emmi, she's the Masterharper now? That Emmi?" But she'll also give Shanlee her own curved smile in reply: good thing indeed.
Her own appetite replete, Shanlee reaches for the wineskin and leans back against Kaylith eyes slipping closed against the warm summer sun, “Definitely,” a good survival trait, “The wild ones are really innovative in taking care of themselves.” Nodding slow agreement an eyelid cracks open and the redhead grins Leova’s way, “That Emmi. One of Master Rodric’s replacements, Gerand, being the other,” a fond smile forming for her Harper Hall acquaintance, “She actually trained her Pan to trill along to her music. Something to see and hear that is.”
Pastry time for Leova. "Can imagine," she says when her mouth's however temporarily clear. "Bound to be good music after all, not just any little tune... Mm, this is good. From our 'Reaches or somewhere else?" while holding up the pastry's remaining half. "Wondered, when the news about replacing came around. Taking two to replace one man."
“Weyr kitchens,” Shanlee gives out on the pastries. With a fine brow lifting upward, Leova is given an amused look, “I gather you never met Master Rodric then?” chuckling and adding, “Not surprised it took two to replace him,” again a fondness patterns across fine features, “Was a bit of a worry when word came of his illness. Looked pretty good last time I saw him though.” Her tone is growing lazier and lazier as the warmth, full belly and wine take effect. A gusty sigh and she pushes up to her feet stepping off a pace or two to take in the view, “It’s like the wind blows the cobwebs from your head up here,” musing out loud.
"No, no, can't say as I have," Leova says, with a moment to appreciate the humor of it: stablehand meeting the Masterharper, imagine. "Good to hear he's doing well, though," she offers, and with Shanlee standing, reads the cues and starts putting things back together. More quietly, "Nice to know a place like that."
Lips twitch mildly, “For all that he was Masterharper, Rodric wasn’t one to look down on anyone. Started out as a trader, went back to his clan when he stepped down,” proof of point from the weyrsecond. As Leova starts gathering things together, Shanlee turns and moves back to help her. In short order, with the aid of two sets of hands and most of the goods now comfortably set to stomachs, it doesn’t take long. Adding on to the other’s quieter comment, “Some tend to come back when you leave,” cobwebs that is. Swivelling on her boot in that crouched position the other greenrider is given a discerning look, “You got somewhere you go to just…be?”
Leova's mild nod takes Shanlee's word for it, and once things get cleaned up it's her to turn to stand. Shake out her joints. Make herself comfortable. Shake out the blanket, too, and start folding it. "Can see that. For somewhere to go.." Leova's rueful smile acknowledges that it's probably trite, but all the same, "Flying with Vrianth. Pretty much anywhere at all. And then she gets her oiling, after."
Shanlee stays crouched a little longer, lifts a look up to Leova then stands again to attach her carrysack back to Kaylith's straps. Slight shoulders lift and fall, "Hey, whatever works for you, aye?" finding nothing commonplace or worn in Leova's reply. Weariness, likely from her previous evening's antics hover around the petite frame, "Think I'll be heading back. Catch a nap if I can before afternoon sweeps."
"Aye." And with that, Leova's looking up, looking for Vrianth to circle back down from wherever she'd flown off to when her rider wasn't looking. "Good seeing you. And tell your feline to behave, hm?" this with a smile over her shoulder before it's back to waiting all over again.
A crooked grin is slipped Leova’s way from between emerald neckridges, “She does as she pleases,” Onyx that is. “Hope she comes in soon,” her own eyes lifting to scan the skies for Vrianth. Kaylith lifts up, spreads those verdant wings of hers and blinks *between* a few heartbeats later.
VR: Day 16, month 8, Turn 16, of the Interval. It is a summer afternoon.
(Original log from Shanlee)
Shanlee introduces Leova to one of her favorite getaways and explains a little history.
Red Butte (#6545RJ)
Far from any hold, the timeless, monolithic ridges of Pern's Red Butte rise sharply from the rolling plains. A hundred dragonlengths across at its widest point, the massive butte towers above the surrounding plains, dramatic in its isolation. A few hardy plants twine gnarled roots into nooks and crannies of the speckled red granite to cling to the butte's steeply sloping sides as the harsh wind whips past with a hollow sound. The summit of the Red Butte is rocky and treacherous, a relatively flat expanse of reddish stone cut deeply by radial crevasses. Overlooking spreading plains and rolling green-brown hills, the butte offers a magnificent vista to the horizon in each direction. The vast sky arches overhead, majestically empty of all but the lonesome wind.
The only way off the butte is by dragon.
Summer still in the air, Autumn not quite threatening and the Red Butte has not one but two pairs of greens landed atop its rocky surface. Slipping down to the rock face, Shan’s boots hit with just the barest flash of grimace, “What I tell you? Gorgeous, right?” this spoken up to Leova with an air satisfaction. The carrysack at Kaylith’s side is unbuckled and hefted over a shoulder, “You bring a blanket? Left mine behind. Head’s a little broken today,” no kidding.
Leova turns slowly, eyes slitted against the wind, to eye the landscape much as earlier Vrianth had turned and turned to look and look. "Impressive," she agrees. "I'd say, can't believe I didn't realize when we came here for betweening practice, but you know how it is. Worrying about getting in and out safely, more than the scenery... think I did, but let me double-check. Long morning?"
A soft tap to Kaylith’s shoulder and the little green hunkers down and provides handy shelter from the winds, “Aye, know what you mean. Half the places we went it was a little hazy afterward. Went again with one of the assistant’s again to each.” The carrysack is set down and immediately Shanlee sets to digging around for the wineskin she’d brought with her, a wry quirk of lips turns on to Leova, “Long night.”
"Mmm. Hope it was a good long night, then," Leova teases with a sidelong glance, before getting back to shaking out what has indeed turned out to be a blanket: worn enough to have thin spots here and there, but it's still a blanket, and for Shanlee she's extra careful to wipe off any crumbs and sand off onto the rest of the stone and sand. Wandering closer to Shanlee as Vrianth goes exploring further away, she pauses to crouch by one of the rare plants and check it over, breaking off a leaf to bruise it and give it a sniff.
Shanlee's chuckle is held low, likely out of respect for her pounding head, "From what I can remember, it was...enlightening." Green eyes track the careful sweeping of the blanket, "Not some delicate rose that might bruise if I sit on a crumb you know," teasing mildly as she seats herself crossed-legged. Holding the wineskin up to Leova, "What's it smell like?" that plant.
"Really." Leova keeps her voice down for Shanlee's sake, then, though she does tease her back. "Wouldn't want anything to happen to those nice black leathers. And sort of... sharp? Pungent? Here," and she aims to trade, leaf for wineskin.
“Mmm,” really. Leova’s comment on her attire draws a look down over them, then a bland one to flicker over to the other greenrider, “Just leathers,” yeah right, “Not like its my gather best or anything.” Innate curiosity has the trade easily made and Shanlee recoiling almost instantly at the smell, “Jays! Wake a dead man from his sleep that would.”
"Sounds like it could be useful, then," Leova teases as she eases down to the blanket. Not that she offers to take the leaf back, instead unstoppering the wineskin and giving it a whiff in turn: red or white? Sweet or dry? Vrianth's still wandering, unhurried, nose low to the stone for a better look.
As to the previous night and considerate of the cut to upper lip, Shanlee’s mouth curls into a line that offers an odd blend of smirky amusement, “Knowledge is power so they say.” The unstoppered wineskin offers up the distinct aroma of Benden red if Leova knows her wines. Digging around some more in the ‘sack of hers, the weyrsecond lays out two packages containing herdbeast burgers, several pieces of fruit and last but by no means least, a pair of slightly damaged pastries. Kaylith-the-windbreak, stays where she is tracking Vrianth’s path with idle interest. Conversation come to a lull, the redhead’s light tone breaks out, “So, what you been up to the last few. Anything interesting?”
"So they do." Leova sits back, drinks, eyes lowered to the wineskin. It's only when Shanlee's done laying out that food, when she's ready to pass the wineskin back, that that cut really registers and her gaze fixes on the other greenrider for just that moment. But there's that direct question to attend to, and perhaps Shanlee's even trained her well enough not to ask. "The usual rounds, pretty much. Most exciting thing was getting flagged down by a man whose wife was out in the back fields, went into labor early. Luckily she had a firelizard, don't normally connect lucky and firelizard together, either."
Hunger must be rampant for Shanlee is wolfing down that herdbeast burger likes there’s not another meal to come. Jaws stop their chewing and eyes meet Leova’s, swallowing some and speaking around the rest, two words are distinguishable, “Onyx. Table,” back to chewing. Amusement lifts bright across the fine features, “Flying healer?” and then darken as she perceives the usefulness of firelizards to having been slated. Silence as the redhead reaches for the wineskin and washes down her food, “I’ll have you know that before the Starsmiths could predict the rogue ‘falls, those little critters that went through the training saved more than one hide.”
Onyx. "That's a stone, right?" as Leova digs in, listens, chews. "Right. Healer. Was her first time, too." She takes it easy, keeps it calm, no offense in her own reaction. Instead, "Training, that's the main thing. Not everyone does."
Foregoing the fruit a crumply pastry hovers just before Shanlee’s mouth, “A stone? Oh. No, my feline, as in black as onyx.” Brows flicker up and drop back down again, “Most all that were distributed between the cotholds and traders went in for training down at Harper with then Journeywoman Emmi.” As if on cue, Zetia zips in from *between* circles a few times above the weyrsecond’s head, then lands on her shoulder. A leg with a message tube extends, patiently held out. “Set the program up. Didn’t want one of my own though. She’s Cait’s idea of a joke,” chuckling over her sneaky Istan friend. A lightly concerned look lingers over Leova, “Your ‘hold didn’t have a FEWS trained ‘lizard?”
"Oh! Remember now. Only ever saw his tail, I think. Her tail?" And then there's that firelizard, and Leova's giving it a speculative look, extricating a little chunk of cooked meat from what little is left of her burger. "Pretty time-consuming joke," she says. "Pretty, though. But. FEWS? What's that?"
Fingers pop one at a time into Shanlee’s mouth being sure to get every last one cleaned, or as close to clean as one can get without a bowl and water. Zetia gives that meat Leova has a very, veeery long look, but obediently remains where she is until the message tube is untied. Then, its time to sashay on over to that tantalizing morsel with all the charm the green firelizard can muster. Snorting at Cait’s idea of a joke, “Aye. She’s useful at any rate.” The message doesn’t get extracted, instead the tube is tucked into a jacket pocket for safe keeping. Eyes narrow lightly, “Word never got out your way? Firelizard Early Warning System, FEWS. Firelizards can sense thread in enough time before it falls to warn their handlers.”
Likely it shows that Leova hasn't had much experience with firelizards, if only in the surprise in her smile when Zetia comes to visit her after all. She's not coy with handing the bit over, either, just lets it rest on her fingertips for the green to take, or not. "Might just have missed it," she says. "Wasn't ever likely to have an egg, you know? FEWS. Easy to say, I like that."
The small green head extends and the tidbit is taken with care not to inadvertently nip at Leova’s fingers. There comes too a chirrup, either of thanks or in quest for more, little hard to tell. Shanlee nods in understanding of the other greenrider’s explanation, “Mostly the Lord Holder’s or their kin. But there were times when some were just not suitable for impression, or just didn’t have the patience for the training. Some went to whichever of the ‘hold was good with animals.”
Leova's glance does check with Shanlee before letting the firelizard have any more of her lunch, her laugh low and wry. "Nowhere near any Lord Holders. So that explains that. And Granite, not as though there weren't plenty good with animals there. So you ran it? Or set it up, anyway? Sounds like a story."
Shanlee affords Zetia a stern glance and the little creature withdraws, hops up onto her human's shoulder and wraps herself around the slender neck like a living scarf, "She's opportunistic," dry the smile that accompanies that. "Aaah, yes." Interest flickers in the next, "How'd you know thread was coming then?" to the last query there comes an almost reticent drop of head, "Just figured it out that the firelizards knew. Did some research, gathered some people together. It was Emmi that figured out the actual training and ran it." A slender hand flicks at unseen crumbs from her leather breeches, "Anyhow, not of much import now. Which is a good thing, aye?" Leova is given a half-smile for that.
All the more burger for Leova, who then has her way with the fruit as well as she listens, still with half an eye on Zetia there. "Good survival trait," she supposes along the way. "And the people who needed to know, they told the rest of us." Further eating, and listening is followed by, "Emmi, she's the Masterharper now? That Emmi?" But she'll also give Shanlee her own curved smile in reply: good thing indeed.
Her own appetite replete, Shanlee reaches for the wineskin and leans back against Kaylith eyes slipping closed against the warm summer sun, “Definitely,” a good survival trait, “The wild ones are really innovative in taking care of themselves.” Nodding slow agreement an eyelid cracks open and the redhead grins Leova’s way, “That Emmi. One of Master Rodric’s replacements, Gerand, being the other,” a fond smile forming for her Harper Hall acquaintance, “She actually trained her Pan to trill along to her music. Something to see and hear that is.”
Pastry time for Leova. "Can imagine," she says when her mouth's however temporarily clear. "Bound to be good music after all, not just any little tune... Mm, this is good. From our 'Reaches or somewhere else?" while holding up the pastry's remaining half. "Wondered, when the news about replacing came around. Taking two to replace one man."
“Weyr kitchens,” Shanlee gives out on the pastries. With a fine brow lifting upward, Leova is given an amused look, “I gather you never met Master Rodric then?” chuckling and adding, “Not surprised it took two to replace him,” again a fondness patterns across fine features, “Was a bit of a worry when word came of his illness. Looked pretty good last time I saw him though.” Her tone is growing lazier and lazier as the warmth, full belly and wine take effect. A gusty sigh and she pushes up to her feet stepping off a pace or two to take in the view, “It’s like the wind blows the cobwebs from your head up here,” musing out loud.
"No, no, can't say as I have," Leova says, with a moment to appreciate the humor of it: stablehand meeting the Masterharper, imagine. "Good to hear he's doing well, though," she offers, and with Shanlee standing, reads the cues and starts putting things back together. More quietly, "Nice to know a place like that."
Lips twitch mildly, “For all that he was Masterharper, Rodric wasn’t one to look down on anyone. Started out as a trader, went back to his clan when he stepped down,” proof of point from the weyrsecond. As Leova starts gathering things together, Shanlee turns and moves back to help her. In short order, with the aid of two sets of hands and most of the goods now comfortably set to stomachs, it doesn’t take long. Adding on to the other’s quieter comment, “Some tend to come back when you leave,” cobwebs that is. Swivelling on her boot in that crouched position the other greenrider is given a discerning look, “You got somewhere you go to just…be?”
Leova's mild nod takes Shanlee's word for it, and once things get cleaned up it's her to turn to stand. Shake out her joints. Make herself comfortable. Shake out the blanket, too, and start folding it. "Can see that. For somewhere to go.." Leova's rueful smile acknowledges that it's probably trite, but all the same, "Flying with Vrianth. Pretty much anywhere at all. And then she gets her oiling, after."
Shanlee stays crouched a little longer, lifts a look up to Leova then stands again to attach her carrysack back to Kaylith's straps. Slight shoulders lift and fall, "Hey, whatever works for you, aye?" finding nothing commonplace or worn in Leova's reply. Weariness, likely from her previous evening's antics hover around the petite frame, "Think I'll be heading back. Catch a nap if I can before afternoon sweeps."
"Aye." And with that, Leova's looking up, looking for Vrianth to circle back down from wherever she'd flown off to when her rider wasn't looking. "Good seeing you. And tell your feline to behave, hm?" this with a smile over her shoulder before it's back to waiting all over again.
A crooked grin is slipped Leova’s way from between emerald neckridges, “She does as she pleases,” Onyx that is. “Hope she comes in soon,” her own eyes lifting to scan the skies for Vrianth. Kaylith lifts up, spreads those verdant wings of hers and blinks *between* a few heartbeats later.