Log: It's Not Good Dicing, Without a Good Knifing
Who: Milani, Taikrin
When: day 20, month 13, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani does a little evening tour of the convicts' 'accommodations' and meets Taikrin the dicing girl.
Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.
At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone.
Towards the south-eastern end of the bowl, a large area has been cordoned off with heavy ropes. The bowl wall has mostly been covered by enormous lengths of oiled cloth, hiding damage left in the wake of the meteor and eye rock, which fell here.
Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor.
It's snowy. It's cold. And it's moving towards the later side of the evening after the convicts have left the living cavern and supper behind for the dubious shelter of the crater and 'cavern' gouged out by the meteor. It's here that the headwoman, bundled up against the cold heads out to once certain duties have been laid to rest. Nose pinked by the chill, Milani's bright-eyed expression turns up within the shelter, a few words exchanged with the overseer sitting near the entrance on 'watch' of sorts before progressing inward, steps brisk as she takes on a casual inspection of the area. It's not an uncommon thing for the headwoman to do: it might not be nightly, but she checks the convicts' accommodation regularly.
The convicts themselves seem to be more or less settled for the evening: a day of hard labor doesn't generally leave a lot of energy afterward for boisterousness. Taikrin is still awake, though she is wrapped tightly in her blanket against the weather. She's got a pair of crude dice in her hand that seem to be occupying her time: Taikrin alternates between rolling them around in one hand, dumping them onto the floor in front of her, then swiftly picking them up again to repeat the process. Occasionally a hand comes up to touch a white bandage -- several days old, by the look of it -- that's wrapped around her temple.
Eventually, Milani's path takes her to Taikrin and her dice. Eventually, the headwoman offers the young woman a smile and a polite nod. "Hello, not too cold this evening I hope? And your head is all right?" she asks, a hand lifting to her own temple to tap there lightly, though it's the dice and Taikrin's movements that her eyes follow next, curious.
Taikrin gives a startled jerk at being addressed, closing her fist tightly over the dice. Leaning back, she eyes Milani warily then offers an uncertain smile. "Yes, uh... ma'am." Expression closely garded, her body language is tense as she rolls further back to sit on her heels. "I mean, uh. Not too cold. All of us in here and all." Her hand rises, mimicing Milani's motion, before a short shake of her head is given. "Yeah, it's fine. Uh, ma'am. Got caught in a bit of a fall, other day. Healer sewed me up proper, though."
"A fall?" Milani inquires curiously, head tilting to the side. "What sort of fall?" And she nods towards the dice. "You don't have to stop on my account. I was wondering if you were playing a game or just you know, doing that for the sake of doing it. I mean, sometimes people just like the motion, you know?" she mimics pouring out and picking up.
"Little piece of the ceiling came down. Over there." Her other hand is waved towards the far side of the area within the hole, which remains cordoned off. "Hit kinda some unstable rock, there. Keeps flaking off." Taikrin's hand remains clenched quite tightly over the dice, which is further hidden in her lap. "Oh, uh. S'nothing important. Uh, ma'am." A hint of a flush enters Taikrin's pale, dirt-smudged cheeks. "Just practicin'. Been a long time since I had--" Her jaw snaps abruptly shut, the click of her teeth audible. There's a moment's awkward pause before she finishes somewhat lamely, "--had the, uh, light t'practice with 'em at night."
"Oh goodness me, that must've hurt quite a bit." The bit of ceiling over there is eyed suspiciously. "Are the miners quite sure it's stable?" Concern in the headwoman's voice. "I mean, it can't be safe to stand under there, if it keeps doing that right?" Milani doesn't seem taken aback by the young woman's body language, though she does lift her brows a little in a dubious, but soon schooled expression. "Sure. I've never really played you know. Not with dice. And well cards, just a few times. It's not really my thing."
"Dunno, been mortaring up a part... just don't seem t'want to hold. Might be they make us take out that whole part, if the rocks gone rotten." Taikrin gives a one-shouldered shrug, obviously less concerned for her personal safety than she is about the dice still clutched tightly in one fist. "Dice ain't, uh... not a respectable game. Uh. Ma'am." The look she fixes on Milani is both wary and a bit crafty. "Don't see lots of honest folk who want t'play." A short, harsh bark of laughter, then: "'Specially not the games the likes of us play."
"Oh well, if that winds up working, that's good. I mean, don't want rocks taking people out all over again." Milani eyeballs the ceiling again, then returns her gaze to Taikrin. "Plenty of the riders and residents do," the headwoman points out. "I mean, it's just a game," she continues. It's another way to pass the time, especially when it snows up here in the winter. But I guess there's rules and then there's rules, or the lack of them." She makes a little face in response to that harsh bark of laughter, looks away for a moment towards where a quartet of convicts are in fact playing cards.
Taikrin seems honestly surprised at that revelation; her eyebrows nearly disappear beneath the less-than-white bandage. "They do? Really? For marks? And-- and other things? Uh, ma'am?" There's a hint of a hopeful note in her voice, too. "Ain't that way so much, last place I was stayin', dice bein' an idle hand's plaything." On the last phrase, her voice deepens in obvious imitation of someone. "Some games got lots of weird rules." Taikrin gives another one-shouldered shrug of unconcern. "Like the simple ones, myself. Goes faster."
"Some of them for marks, some of them just for fun," her shoulders lift, drop again. "Oh? I sort of thought it was just another of the sort of games that people play when they have some down time." Milani nods though, agreement about rules. "I like it to be pretty straightforward if I'm going to play too. I have some friends who like to go to Bitra and play the really odd and complicated things."
"Playing with Bitra folk? Ain't know too many people what do that twice." Taikrin's expression drops into a sneer of disdain. "Leave it to a Bitran to have way too many shar-- uh, rules. Rule what won't stay the same, one game t'another." She pauses, suddenly thoughtful. "Best pair partner I ever had was a Bitran, though. Man could play on the take, that's fer sure." As quick as the thoughtful expression appears, it's replaced with a suddenly too-friendly smile. "Hope you're not lookin' to be playing with them Bitrans, ma'am. Though if y'are, sure I could help learn you a thing or two 'bout dice."
"Some people like that sort of thing, go to the gambling rooms at Bitra and all," MIlani says with another accepting but also dismissive shrug: not her thing. "Oh no, not me." Laughter. "Though if you want to show me a thing or two, it's always interesting to understand a little bit more about what other people like."
"Some people what like to be parted with their marks, like." Taikrin obviously hasn't got a lot of respect for those types, to judge from the derisive tone-- though it's quick to turn suspiciously respecful. "Only happy t'help as I can, ma'am. Wouldn't want nobody taking advantage of our, uh... you. Ma'am." The hand containing the dice is finally opened, and the crudely carved bits of six-sided bone lifted for inspection. "These're a real basic set. Can play all kinds of quick games with 'em. Crazier rules, like what the Bitrans play with, y'need a couple more pairs. Sometimes four, or six even."
"Mm, maybe," Milani allows for the derisiveness without tackling it head on. "Well like I said, I'm unlikely to ever actually play for real," the headwoman notes. "I'm smart enough to know it's not ever going to be me playing at Bitra and actually /winning/." She regards the pair of dice for a moment, looks back up at Taikrin and nods. "That's an awful lot of dice. So, okay, what goes on with just a pair?"
Taikrin rolls the dice in her cupped palm with a well-practiced motion, dividing her attention between their movement and Milani. "Well, just s'long as yer not looking t'play with the Bitrans." She quirks a hint of a grin. "Well, with just two, sometimes it's just betting on what number's gonna come next. That's the easiest game. Kinda boring, though." One of the dice is poked with a finger, rolling it around her palm to expose all six sides. "See, they're marked one to six, like. You get to more complicated games, rules change. One of 'em, you gotta get odd-even-odd, like. Marks go up every time y'make it."
"So betting on patterns and usually for marks. How does the betting work?" Milani asks curiously next with another little smile, though she lets the subject of Bitra drop.
"Betting's the best part!" Taikrin's grin widens, turning positively predatory. "Don't even have t'play, to do the betting. Each throw's got odds, like, so all kindsa people do bets on what's gonna be thrown, who's gonna win, stuff like that. Odds work like how likely someone's gonna throw to win. If yer intimate with the dice, like, then you can make some good marks!" This is, apparently, her favorite part. "You ever seen 'em going round in a betting pool like that, here?" A bit of the grin wanes, her expression becoming wary again. "Not sure how much extra marks they got around here t'be throwing around on a good dice game. Uh. Ma'am."
"But isn't betting kind of playing? I mean, you're not just playing to toss dice, you're playing a betting game, right?" MIlani, head tilted to the side. "Mm. N'thei used to get into some pretty long games in the SNowasis," the headwoman says musingly. "Though I think he was more into cards."
"Well, yeah, I suppose," Taikrin allows, though cautiously. "Just... you sure it's okay and all, people making real wagers on dice, 'round these parts?" She really can't seem to get over her incredulity at that. "I thought Weyrfolk were supposed t'be too, uhhh..." The caution gives way to uncertainty. "... uhh, too much upright folk t'really be getting inta dice. Cards, though." A short nod is given. "That's more like a game more right for you types."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Milani looks pretty surprised by that question before she starts laughing. "Ask one person, and we're the opposite of upright, ask another and we're paragons of rectitude and morality apparently." Up go her shoulders. "A lot of people like to gamble. Gambling is done with marks usually. It's not really an upright or not upright thing, it's just something people do."
Taikrin draws backwards at the laughter, eyebrows twitching together. "Well, 'cause I ain't ever seen nobody knifed over a card game, but ain't ever but seen a dice game what /didn't/ end with someone bleeding!" Ah, the crux of the matter. "Ain't you Weyr people not allowed t'have knives for duelin'?" Her head is shaken, disbelief still apparent. "Gambling's a bloody game, ma'am, you play it right. Right bloody."
Milani's brows fly upward. "Seriously? Well I've never seen anyone knifed over either," the headwoman says with a blink or two. "Though you know, the saying is, dragonmen don't fight," she reminds with an uplifted finger. "Any arguments about games or anything else are usually solved in other ways. Though ... there's some punching. A fair bit of that."
"Ain't been a good wager round if nobody's threatening insult on someone else," Taikrin mutters. "Good knifing keeps most honest." Milani's remark about dragonmen not fighting is met with a confident nod, but as she finishes, Taikrin's jaw drops practically to her chest. "They do not! Now yer just pokin' fun at me!" Her voice rises with incredulity, earning a dirty look from one of the supervisors. "You ain't just tell me dragonmen go in for a bit of dirty scuffle after a good wager! Ain't no shardin' way!"
"I don't know about liking it, though I guess, yes, some do. Just ask around about the Weyrwoman. She's got a mean right hook," Milani confides with a sage nod. "But, they're giving me the hairy eye over there," a nod to the overseers. "So I should wrap up my little walk around and head back. If that ceiling bit doesn't get tended to, do let me know. You may all be in here for something, but you don't deserve to get brained to death by the roof over your heads." The headwoman straightens, like she'd go then she pauses, smiles. "I'm sorry, I never did get your name."
Taikrin subsides from her outburst, a stain of embarassment crossing dirty cheeks. "Weyrwoman's got a mean right hook, she says..." she repeats, her voice disbelieving still. As Milani gathers herself to go, Taikrin settles herself further back onto her sleeping mat. One quick, mistrustful glance at the overseers, then: "Oh, uh. Taikrin, ma'am. From Crom. Obviously." A quick 'heh', then she continues, "I'll be sure t'raise it, ma'am. Don't want t'lose the whole side of the Bowl... it'd get awful cold, sleeping."
"She does, ask anyone," Milani says with big wide eyes and winks at Taikrin, then briefly offers her hand to shake. "Milani. From here." A smile again and she nods. "Good. And don't worry. If it did all come tumbling down, we'd find someplace else for you. Can't have you freezing to death. Stay warm tonight, Taikrin and rest well." A nod and the headwoman steps away to check in with a few others, completes her round of the installation then slips out again with quiet words to the overseers.
When: day 20, month 13, turn 21 of the 10th interval
Where: Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani does a little evening tour of the convicts' 'accommodations' and meets Taikrin the dicing girl.
Eastern Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Ringed by rough granite walls to all sides but one, this end of the huge bowl narrows from the even broader plain to the west, continuing the ever so slight downward slope toward the blue and green of the Weyr's lake and surrounding foliage. More open to sun and wind than the western bowl, but less frequented when there aren't weyrlings in residence, the bowl's grassy tufts keep the topsoil in place and thicken into a bloodstained meadow within the feeding pens that adjoin the lake.
At the base of the surrounding cliffs lie entrances to several caverns, including the dragon infirmary and the weyrling barracks: the former to the northwest near where the spires begin, the latter opposite to the southwest. Both archways are large and dark enough for any dragon to pass through, but it's the infirmary's that is haunted by faint smells of redwort and numbweed, as though over generations they have seeped into the very stone.
Towards the south-eastern end of the bowl, a large area has been cordoned off with heavy ropes. The bowl wall has mostly been covered by enormous lengths of oiled cloth, hiding damage left in the wake of the meteor and eye rock, which fell here.
Steady, today's snowfall sticks, creating dunes on the bowl floor.
It's snowy. It's cold. And it's moving towards the later side of the evening after the convicts have left the living cavern and supper behind for the dubious shelter of the crater and 'cavern' gouged out by the meteor. It's here that the headwoman, bundled up against the cold heads out to once certain duties have been laid to rest. Nose pinked by the chill, Milani's bright-eyed expression turns up within the shelter, a few words exchanged with the overseer sitting near the entrance on 'watch' of sorts before progressing inward, steps brisk as she takes on a casual inspection of the area. It's not an uncommon thing for the headwoman to do: it might not be nightly, but she checks the convicts' accommodation regularly.
The convicts themselves seem to be more or less settled for the evening: a day of hard labor doesn't generally leave a lot of energy afterward for boisterousness. Taikrin is still awake, though she is wrapped tightly in her blanket against the weather. She's got a pair of crude dice in her hand that seem to be occupying her time: Taikrin alternates between rolling them around in one hand, dumping them onto the floor in front of her, then swiftly picking them up again to repeat the process. Occasionally a hand comes up to touch a white bandage -- several days old, by the look of it -- that's wrapped around her temple.
Eventually, Milani's path takes her to Taikrin and her dice. Eventually, the headwoman offers the young woman a smile and a polite nod. "Hello, not too cold this evening I hope? And your head is all right?" she asks, a hand lifting to her own temple to tap there lightly, though it's the dice and Taikrin's movements that her eyes follow next, curious.
Taikrin gives a startled jerk at being addressed, closing her fist tightly over the dice. Leaning back, she eyes Milani warily then offers an uncertain smile. "Yes, uh... ma'am." Expression closely garded, her body language is tense as she rolls further back to sit on her heels. "I mean, uh. Not too cold. All of us in here and all." Her hand rises, mimicing Milani's motion, before a short shake of her head is given. "Yeah, it's fine. Uh, ma'am. Got caught in a bit of a fall, other day. Healer sewed me up proper, though."
"A fall?" Milani inquires curiously, head tilting to the side. "What sort of fall?" And she nods towards the dice. "You don't have to stop on my account. I was wondering if you were playing a game or just you know, doing that for the sake of doing it. I mean, sometimes people just like the motion, you know?" she mimics pouring out and picking up.
"Little piece of the ceiling came down. Over there." Her other hand is waved towards the far side of the area within the hole, which remains cordoned off. "Hit kinda some unstable rock, there. Keeps flaking off." Taikrin's hand remains clenched quite tightly over the dice, which is further hidden in her lap. "Oh, uh. S'nothing important. Uh, ma'am." A hint of a flush enters Taikrin's pale, dirt-smudged cheeks. "Just practicin'. Been a long time since I had--" Her jaw snaps abruptly shut, the click of her teeth audible. There's a moment's awkward pause before she finishes somewhat lamely, "--had the, uh, light t'practice with 'em at night."
"Oh goodness me, that must've hurt quite a bit." The bit of ceiling over there is eyed suspiciously. "Are the miners quite sure it's stable?" Concern in the headwoman's voice. "I mean, it can't be safe to stand under there, if it keeps doing that right?" Milani doesn't seem taken aback by the young woman's body language, though she does lift her brows a little in a dubious, but soon schooled expression. "Sure. I've never really played you know. Not with dice. And well cards, just a few times. It's not really my thing."
"Dunno, been mortaring up a part... just don't seem t'want to hold. Might be they make us take out that whole part, if the rocks gone rotten." Taikrin gives a one-shouldered shrug, obviously less concerned for her personal safety than she is about the dice still clutched tightly in one fist. "Dice ain't, uh... not a respectable game. Uh. Ma'am." The look she fixes on Milani is both wary and a bit crafty. "Don't see lots of honest folk who want t'play." A short, harsh bark of laughter, then: "'Specially not the games the likes of us play."
"Oh well, if that winds up working, that's good. I mean, don't want rocks taking people out all over again." Milani eyeballs the ceiling again, then returns her gaze to Taikrin. "Plenty of the riders and residents do," the headwoman points out. "I mean, it's just a game," she continues. It's another way to pass the time, especially when it snows up here in the winter. But I guess there's rules and then there's rules, or the lack of them." She makes a little face in response to that harsh bark of laughter, looks away for a moment towards where a quartet of convicts are in fact playing cards.
Taikrin seems honestly surprised at that revelation; her eyebrows nearly disappear beneath the less-than-white bandage. "They do? Really? For marks? And-- and other things? Uh, ma'am?" There's a hint of a hopeful note in her voice, too. "Ain't that way so much, last place I was stayin', dice bein' an idle hand's plaything." On the last phrase, her voice deepens in obvious imitation of someone. "Some games got lots of weird rules." Taikrin gives another one-shouldered shrug of unconcern. "Like the simple ones, myself. Goes faster."
"Some of them for marks, some of them just for fun," her shoulders lift, drop again. "Oh? I sort of thought it was just another of the sort of games that people play when they have some down time." Milani nods though, agreement about rules. "I like it to be pretty straightforward if I'm going to play too. I have some friends who like to go to Bitra and play the really odd and complicated things."
"Playing with Bitra folk? Ain't know too many people what do that twice." Taikrin's expression drops into a sneer of disdain. "Leave it to a Bitran to have way too many shar-- uh, rules. Rule what won't stay the same, one game t'another." She pauses, suddenly thoughtful. "Best pair partner I ever had was a Bitran, though. Man could play on the take, that's fer sure." As quick as the thoughtful expression appears, it's replaced with a suddenly too-friendly smile. "Hope you're not lookin' to be playing with them Bitrans, ma'am. Though if y'are, sure I could help learn you a thing or two 'bout dice."
"Some people like that sort of thing, go to the gambling rooms at Bitra and all," MIlani says with another accepting but also dismissive shrug: not her thing. "Oh no, not me." Laughter. "Though if you want to show me a thing or two, it's always interesting to understand a little bit more about what other people like."
"Some people what like to be parted with their marks, like." Taikrin obviously hasn't got a lot of respect for those types, to judge from the derisive tone-- though it's quick to turn suspiciously respecful. "Only happy t'help as I can, ma'am. Wouldn't want nobody taking advantage of our, uh... you. Ma'am." The hand containing the dice is finally opened, and the crudely carved bits of six-sided bone lifted for inspection. "These're a real basic set. Can play all kinds of quick games with 'em. Crazier rules, like what the Bitrans play with, y'need a couple more pairs. Sometimes four, or six even."
"Mm, maybe," Milani allows for the derisiveness without tackling it head on. "Well like I said, I'm unlikely to ever actually play for real," the headwoman notes. "I'm smart enough to know it's not ever going to be me playing at Bitra and actually /winning/." She regards the pair of dice for a moment, looks back up at Taikrin and nods. "That's an awful lot of dice. So, okay, what goes on with just a pair?"
Taikrin rolls the dice in her cupped palm with a well-practiced motion, dividing her attention between their movement and Milani. "Well, just s'long as yer not looking t'play with the Bitrans." She quirks a hint of a grin. "Well, with just two, sometimes it's just betting on what number's gonna come next. That's the easiest game. Kinda boring, though." One of the dice is poked with a finger, rolling it around her palm to expose all six sides. "See, they're marked one to six, like. You get to more complicated games, rules change. One of 'em, you gotta get odd-even-odd, like. Marks go up every time y'make it."
"So betting on patterns and usually for marks. How does the betting work?" Milani asks curiously next with another little smile, though she lets the subject of Bitra drop.
"Betting's the best part!" Taikrin's grin widens, turning positively predatory. "Don't even have t'play, to do the betting. Each throw's got odds, like, so all kindsa people do bets on what's gonna be thrown, who's gonna win, stuff like that. Odds work like how likely someone's gonna throw to win. If yer intimate with the dice, like, then you can make some good marks!" This is, apparently, her favorite part. "You ever seen 'em going round in a betting pool like that, here?" A bit of the grin wanes, her expression becoming wary again. "Not sure how much extra marks they got around here t'be throwing around on a good dice game. Uh. Ma'am."
"But isn't betting kind of playing? I mean, you're not just playing to toss dice, you're playing a betting game, right?" MIlani, head tilted to the side. "Mm. N'thei used to get into some pretty long games in the SNowasis," the headwoman says musingly. "Though I think he was more into cards."
"Well, yeah, I suppose," Taikrin allows, though cautiously. "Just... you sure it's okay and all, people making real wagers on dice, 'round these parts?" She really can't seem to get over her incredulity at that. "I thought Weyrfolk were supposed t'be too, uhhh..." The caution gives way to uncertainty. "... uhh, too much upright folk t'really be getting inta dice. Cards, though." A short nod is given. "That's more like a game more right for you types."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Milani looks pretty surprised by that question before she starts laughing. "Ask one person, and we're the opposite of upright, ask another and we're paragons of rectitude and morality apparently." Up go her shoulders. "A lot of people like to gamble. Gambling is done with marks usually. It's not really an upright or not upright thing, it's just something people do."
Taikrin draws backwards at the laughter, eyebrows twitching together. "Well, 'cause I ain't ever seen nobody knifed over a card game, but ain't ever but seen a dice game what /didn't/ end with someone bleeding!" Ah, the crux of the matter. "Ain't you Weyr people not allowed t'have knives for duelin'?" Her head is shaken, disbelief still apparent. "Gambling's a bloody game, ma'am, you play it right. Right bloody."
Milani's brows fly upward. "Seriously? Well I've never seen anyone knifed over either," the headwoman says with a blink or two. "Though you know, the saying is, dragonmen don't fight," she reminds with an uplifted finger. "Any arguments about games or anything else are usually solved in other ways. Though ... there's some punching. A fair bit of that."
"Ain't been a good wager round if nobody's threatening insult on someone else," Taikrin mutters. "Good knifing keeps most honest." Milani's remark about dragonmen not fighting is met with a confident nod, but as she finishes, Taikrin's jaw drops practically to her chest. "They do not! Now yer just pokin' fun at me!" Her voice rises with incredulity, earning a dirty look from one of the supervisors. "You ain't just tell me dragonmen go in for a bit of dirty scuffle after a good wager! Ain't no shardin' way!"
"I don't know about liking it, though I guess, yes, some do. Just ask around about the Weyrwoman. She's got a mean right hook," Milani confides with a sage nod. "But, they're giving me the hairy eye over there," a nod to the overseers. "So I should wrap up my little walk around and head back. If that ceiling bit doesn't get tended to, do let me know. You may all be in here for something, but you don't deserve to get brained to death by the roof over your heads." The headwoman straightens, like she'd go then she pauses, smiles. "I'm sorry, I never did get your name."
Taikrin subsides from her outburst, a stain of embarassment crossing dirty cheeks. "Weyrwoman's got a mean right hook, she says..." she repeats, her voice disbelieving still. As Milani gathers herself to go, Taikrin settles herself further back onto her sleeping mat. One quick, mistrustful glance at the overseers, then: "Oh, uh. Taikrin, ma'am. From Crom. Obviously." A quick 'heh', then she continues, "I'll be sure t'raise it, ma'am. Don't want t'lose the whole side of the Bowl... it'd get awful cold, sleeping."
"She does, ask anyone," Milani says with big wide eyes and winks at Taikrin, then briefly offers her hand to shake. "Milani. From here." A smile again and she nods. "Good. And don't worry. If it did all come tumbling down, we'd find someplace else for you. Can't have you freezing to death. Stay warm tonight, Taikrin and rest well." A nod and the headwoman steps away to check in with a few others, completes her round of the installation then slips out again with quiet words to the overseers.