Log: Paths Not Taken
Who: Milani, Sunniva
When: It is an autumn afternoon, 17:32 of day 24, month 10, turn 17 of Interval 10.
Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani catches up with Sunniva, gets clear on her name and they talk about choices and desires and getting or not getting them.
Late afternoon just before suppertime, a tired-looking Milani traipses through the Snowasis and on out the other side to the patio carrying what looks like a stiff drink. The assistant headwoman hesitates before sitting, pausing long enough to pull pins from her hair and let the long mane fall around her shoulders. Her fingers massage at her scalp and she lets out an exclamation of relief.
Finished with her duties for the day, Sunniva's found her way to the garden patio ledge in search of nothing more complicated than a place to sit and unwind. And, of course, to do a bit of sewing, while she's at it. She's seated off to a side, a small basket on the ground and her hands working deftly with a needle and a piece of fabric. The exclamation catches her ear and she looks up, blinking as she seeks out the source of the sound.
Milani drops the handful of pins into her pocket and brushes her hair back a little, turns towards one of the benches and discovers it occupied. "Well hey there, you're um .... Sunna right?" the assistant headwoman mangles Sunniva's name a little and moves towards where she sits. "We've had so many Candidates come in, I'm sorry if that's not quite your name?"
"Oh, it is close," Sunniva replies, letting her sewing -- a pouch of some sort? -- rest in her lap. "My name is Sunniva." She flashes the other woman a smile, motioning for her to take a seat if she will. Apologetically, she adds, "I am sorry, but I cannot recall your name -- trying to keep track of the other candidates and other people and not getting lost ... it is a dreadfully dizzying experience."
"Sunniva, right," Milani says with a laugh and a little wrinkle of her nose. "I'm sorry. And I'm Milani and I'm in charge of all of you, if you don't remember from that first crazy day," Millie says and nods acceptance as she settles into place, kicks off her shoes and folds her legs up beneath her. The glass she holds is handled carefully and she takes a sop from its contents. "Dizzying. So, is everything still going in circles or is it settling out a little for you?"
"Oh! Oh, yes. Milani." She frowns at her failure to recall, shaking her head a little with mild dismay. Sunni starts working on the pouch again, though she glances over at Milani periodically for the sake of polite conversation. "Oh, I do not know quite yet," she admits, "though I suppose it is settling out just a bit. My head is not spinning nearly as much as it did when I first arrived. You must be having quite a time of it yourself, dealing with the whole motley lot of us."
"What are you working on?" Milani asks next, peering over curiously and then she smiles at Sunniva warmly. "Takes a while I guess, though you're up from Fort right?" She laughs again and rubs at her face. "It's not so bad until Gebinal and Vorsam start going at it about whose cot needs to be closest to the door /again/. Mostly it's that it's a busy time of turn. Tithes and all."
"This?" the pouch -- made of a thin, pale green fabric -- is offered for Milani's inspection. "I am making a potpourri pouch for Hali. She rather liked the one I had, so I felt I should make her one." Explanation made, Sunniva nods a bit more, "Yes, from Fort. But that does not help me when it comes to wandering about." Her head cocks a little to a side at the last, nose wrinkling sympathetically. "Tithes, candidates ... that sounds dreadfully busy. But, at least, we candidates will be out of your hair soon enough."
The headwoman's assistant take the pouch and gently rubs the fabric between her fingers. "Nice fabric," Milani notes and her face lights up with understanding. "Ohh, to make things smell nice, sure. We put like, big ones in some of the store rooms, with wood chips in more than dead flowers though," she explains. "And noo every Weyr is kind of different. I still get lost a little at Ista even though I've spent a lot of time down there." The last makes Milani laugh again. "Well /some/ of you will be and others will Impress and then they'll be Weyrlings." She winks.
The candidate goes back to work, tight, neat stitches being used to form the 'sleeve' that the binding length of ribbon will be worked through. "Yes, exactly like that," Sunniva brightens, nodding fervently. A sidelong look is cast her way, then back to the work at hand. "Hopefully when this is all over, I will not get lost here ever again," she laughs, her voice soft. Cultured. To the last, she offers a faint half-smile and counters with, "Ah, but they will be out of *your* hair and thoroughly entangled in the Weyrlingmaster's."
"That's a lot prettier than anything we stick in stores. My mother would like to see it I bet. She likes to weave and sew even though she's a rider," Milani explains, knees jiggling a little and she has another sip of her drink which seems to quell the jitters a bit. "Oh I'll bet you'll sort it out soon enough, so you're not getting lost before even the eggs hatch." Beam. "And nooo not really. I mean they'll be primarily the Weyrlingmaster's problem, but lower caverns serve everyone, right? So I'll be making sure the Weyrlings have the right clothes for training, enough blankets for their cots, ummm - leather for making straps, pots of numbweed for all the cuts and bumps and little burns, ummm ... oh all sorts of things. Oh yeah, furniture when they move into weyrs." Her shoulders lift and drop again. "I'm busy and a little tired right now, but in the end, it's okay to be busy. Rather that than bored and well, I like helping people find stuff."
Dipping her head at the compliment, Sunniva murmurs an appreciative noise of some sort and comments with a wry curve of a smile, "Well, of course, but you will not be herding them directly, which must be a trial in and of itself." But the rest is just nodded to, understandingly. Ah and there. Done. The thread is knotted and clipped neatly, the resulting pouch being eyed with her particular brand of scrutiny. Satisfied, she is able to turn more fully to face Milani, head canted to a side. "Oh, yes. Better to be busy; idle hands always end up causing trouble for want of something else to do."
"It's work but it's interesting work," Milani says earnestly, balancing her glass partly on one knee though her hand stays curved around it. "I mean, so many different people come in on Search right? All from different places. It's always eye-opening." The completed pouch is regarded with a brief smile. "I'm sure Hali will like that a lot. Do you know what scents you'll put in it?" And more laughter. "Oh for sure. I mean I used to be like that when I was a kid."
"It sounds fascinating," Sunni remarks with equal earnesty, hands soon folding in her lap. "Oh, and it is so /strange/. But, it always seemed that riders never came from the Weyr they ride for and now I see why. It makes me wonder how the dragons just ... /know/ where to find candidates." With no ribbon to thread through the pouch, it just remains in her lap as well. "Something earthy, she said, so I shall try to find something suitable." She smiles, shakes her head a little. "My younger sisters are very much like that, in their own way."
"Always something new, definitely!" Milani says gaily and tries to keep her knees from bouncing, has to lift her glass to sip again to make them relax. "Beats me about dragons, my mother says it feels like this weird compulsion in her head when Sionath is finding someone though." Millie ponders the idea of earthy by the look on her face and the lowly murmured single word echo: "Earthy ... maybe herbs instead of flowers?" she suggests then focuses in on Sunniva's words on family. "How many sisters do you have? I have a sister, two half-sisters, two half-brothers and a bunch of foster-siblings."
Sunniva's mouth rounds into a soundless 'oh' at the description and she frowns a little, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. "That must be peculiar," she settles on rather lamely, glancing to her hands. "The ways of dragons are so- so inexplicable." Those hands splay helplessly, then lace together, and she continues along the other part of the conversation with, "Herbs, yes. Perhaps some kind of wood or another. Mm? Oh, there are six of us in all; three older than me and two younger. We also have two older half-brothers."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Milani says with another expressive shrug. "I wouldn't know really, just hear what the riders say about things, you know? So I understand a little? But I don't /know/," she elaborates thoughtfully and the motion of Sunniva's hands is taken in, eyed curiously. "Sandalwood?" Millie ponders then shakes her head. "Probably too much," she continues laughingly then pays attention as the other young woman describes her family. "As big and almost as complicated as mine. But it must be nice to have the company."
"Indeed." Sunniva leaves it at that and settles back slightly, though her posture is still unwaveringly stiff. "Mm. Sandalwood in a small amount, perhaps." It is worth consideration at least and she mentally jots that down. The family thing is what gives her a bit of pause and she looks slightly away, "Well, yes. It rather was. Berit is at Fort, of course, and she is all the family I have there." Pause. "And Ella is visiting, but she should be due to return to the Hold soon enough." She hopes. A small smile surfaces. "But, I have made friends to make up for it, now."
"Ohh, so not weyrbred," Milani concludes from mention of the hold. "It must be ... different now she's Weyrwoman too?" the assistant headwoman inquires carefully, head tilted to the side. "And friends are always good. I like making friends. But then again, people usually have a hard time getting me to be quiet, so maybe that's obvious."
"Oh, oh no. Fort Weyr was the first place I had ever visited, to be honest, and that was to see Berit." Something about the memory pulls at the corner of her mouth and Sunni shakes her head to clear it. "It is a lot more difficult, yes. I do not see her often and she is always so busy- but she will do well, I think." To the latter, she nods again, a rueful touch to her otherwise everpresent, if polite, smile. "I am often too quiet, so perhaps I can sympathize in a roundabout way."
"Really? The first place? Shells, I can't imagine that. Even without being a dragonrider, I've been sooo many places with my parents and with my big brother. He used to ride at Fort. He was the Weyrlingmaster until he moved to Ista a little while ago," Millie explains. "And I can understand that, seems like it's that way with any big job." She reached over intending to pat Sunniva's knee lightly. "I hope you get some visits while you're here." Her face split into a wide smile at the last. "Opposite sides of the mark, huh? Just don't hesitate to tell me to put a sock in it if I'm blathering on and on."
"Yes, the first. I- I was rather content to stay at the Hold, honestly. A lifetime spent embroidering near the hearth and waiting to be married off and have lots of children," her tone is almost wistful and strangely longing. "But, that has all changed." And she's still not sure it's for the better. Sunniva's brows lift and she casts back for a name that's hazarded, "P'draig? He was a very kind man." The pat to her knee elicits a slight warming of her smile and another bowing of her head. "One of my dearest friends promised to visit, so I have that to look forward to. Ah, and so we are! Do not worry much about blathering, I am rather good about listening."
"You could still get married and have lots of children at the Weyr," Milani points out. "Or weyrmate. Or not. Whatever floats your boat really," she says in a practical manner. "It's kind of what's nice about Weyrs I think. You kind of set your own expectations for yourself," she muses thoughtfully. "I mean there's still other expectations but other than some of the kids being expected to Impress or not, you're not locked in to any one thing." A bob of Millie's head confirms her brother's identity. "Yep! P'draig. Paddy. And he really is. At least I think so but he's my brother so I guess I'm kind of biased." Her smile blossoms in full at news of a visitor. "Oh that's excellent. Very good. If I'm lucky I'll get to meet your friend too." Because apparently Millie really is just that out-going. "You're right, you've been listening to me, so there you go, that's a very good skill to have, especially in a Weyr."
"Perhaps," but Sunniva's not holding out much hope of having that placid life. "I think much of my problem is that I have no ... real desires of my own. I want that -- marriage, children -- because I was raised to and never had a chance, nor a desire, to question it." The admission comes in a rush and she exhales sharply, turning her gaze directly to her hands. Nodding ensues when her guess is confirmed, a small smile at being able to connect the dots. Further, "Oh, yes. D'kai is such a dear and his Mikhuth is even more of one. I feel awful for leaving Fort," and him, though that's merely implied, "but this is something that must be done." And to the last, she manages a soft chuckle and a nod, though she says nothing more -- only furthering her assertion that she's good at listening.
"You ... don't?" Milani looks rather surprised by this admission and can't seem to quite figure out what to make of it for a moment or two. "Guess you're in a good place for figuring some of that out then. Seems like sometimes being a candidate helps people with that. Like a wake up call for some, or just really points out paths that they do or don't want to take. Like, for some even being a rider might not be the right choice," she muses aloud thoughtfully and her legs settle down to relaxed for the first time since she sat down. "D'kai and Mikhuth ... wait he was one of the bronzes wasn't he?"
"No, I- I do not." The thought is vexing and worthy of a shake of her head. Sunniva offers a slight smile that's slightly distorted, "I should hope so. If not, then I am far more lost than I thought I was. Riding, not riding ... I just do not want to disappoint anyone, that is all." Her hands are worthy of being studied again, the pouch being taken into her fingers. "Yes, and he is a lovely bronze. An absolute dear, actually, much like Mecaith. Some dragons are not nearly so well-tempered."
"Who would you disappoint, either way?" is what Milani jumps to, honestly curious it seems. Her glass is drained and set aside on the bench, legs drawn up to her chest and chin set atop knees. "Is he? It's weird sometimes you know, trying to get to know a dragon through the rider, not being able to know what they're saying." She grins a little wryly then shakes her head. "Mecaith? And who's not well-tempered?"
"My sister, Wroth, perhaps even D'kai -- though I suspect he would rather that I be back at Fort," she frowns a little. Sunni waves that off with a dismissive fluttering of fingers, a smile emerging at the more pleasant part of the conversation, "Well, some of it comes from just being around the dragon, too. And Mecaith is T'rev's -- I had to patch the poor dear up some time ago, but he was a dear about it and ever so patient." Her shoulders lift, then fall, "Other dragons do not like being handled by anyone at all, which makes it difficult to work on them."
"Ohhh. Does ... does your sister expect a lot?" Still just honestly curious is Milani though she makes a little face about Wroth. "Oh he's just a crankypants is Wroth, don't you worry your head about him." Her arms tighten around her legs and she smiles about D'kai. "You're sweet on him, aren't you? It's hard doing the whole, two different Weyrs thing," she notes sympathetically. "But at least it's not too long until you find out whether you're staying or heading back or doing something else entirely." She nods towards the pouch in Sunniva's lap. "If you like sewing, I bet you could make a go at Weavering." Her mouth makes a small -o- about the dragons. "Got it. And that's true. Some are better about it than others." There's a moment's pause and then she snaps her fingers. "/T'rev/. Curly-haired guy? He lost a set of straps here during Vrianth's last flight and a jacket or something. Poor guy was /that/ addled."
"I rather think she will be upset either which way, honestly," is spoken with a soured expression. "Bad enough I could not find her to tell her I had been searched and wound up leaving a letter." Sunniva does blink with genuine surprise at the bit about Wroth, "Really? He seems like such a dear to me and a touch protective, too." About D'kai, however, the blush that arises to her cheeks is telling enough. "I- yes, I suppose you could say that. Berit disapproves, but she wants what is best for me. That is why she suggested dragonhealing; fortunately, the work is agreeable. I am too old to get into a craft, I think, and that was more my sister's strength than mine." A bit of nodding follows, a bit more fervently at the description. "Yes! That would be him. He seems so otherwise calm! How strange!"
"/Wroth/?" Milani blinks at Sunniva's assessment of E'dre's cranky, loud brown. "Maybe it's because he Searched you," she finally settles on a middle ground here and blows out a short breath. "But E'dre's always grousing about how much of a pain he is," she notes informatively and stretches long legs out in front of her and arms above her head, letting bare feet drop down to cool stone. "Well, I hope it works out for you and this D'kai fellow if he's as nice as you say. And if Berit disapproves well pooh on her," Millie says determinedly and grins over at Sunniva. "How old are you anyway? My friend Amerie went down there and started when she was ummm 18 or 19." She laughs a little at the last. "I think that it doesn't matter how calm you are normally. Flights mess with your head."
Confused, Sunni just nods. "Yes, Wroth. Though I suppose that might be why," she frowns a little, "but that is all the more reason not to want to disappoint him." Some lip-chewing follows and only increases a bit at the next bit, her gaze sliding away. "I rather hope it does, too, though I know that him being a rider means it will be difficult." The idea of 'poohing' on Berit elicits a startled look and then a shake of her head, with her pushing to her feet and putting her things away. "Nineteen," she recounts, "but being a crafter is not my lot in life, of that, I am fairly certain." Flights. That's a shudder-worthy topic that she has nothing to comment on.
Something about Sunniva's manner wrinkles Milani's brows with concern and she pushes up to her feet, reaches out to rest her hand lightly against the other young woman's arm. "Look, Sunniva, I'm sorry if I said anything um ... out of turn. Sometimes I say too much. Not just too many words, but too much stuff in them," she says candidly. "But really, I hope that it all turns out for the best and that you'll have a pleasant time here." Beat. "/I'm/ certainly glad you're here because you seem like a really nice person and you put up with me chatterboxing at you." There's another one of her wide open smiles and she nods. "See? At least you've figured one thing out for yourself," she says cheerily then reaches for her glass and abandoned shoes. "I think it's about time for supper though. See you at the Barracks for check-in."
When: It is an autumn afternoon, 17:32 of day 24, month 10, turn 17 of Interval 10.
Where: Garden Patio Ledge, High Reaches Weyr
What: Milani catches up with Sunniva, gets clear on her name and they talk about choices and desires and getting or not getting them.
Late afternoon just before suppertime, a tired-looking Milani traipses through the Snowasis and on out the other side to the patio carrying what looks like a stiff drink. The assistant headwoman hesitates before sitting, pausing long enough to pull pins from her hair and let the long mane fall around her shoulders. Her fingers massage at her scalp and she lets out an exclamation of relief.
Finished with her duties for the day, Sunniva's found her way to the garden patio ledge in search of nothing more complicated than a place to sit and unwind. And, of course, to do a bit of sewing, while she's at it. She's seated off to a side, a small basket on the ground and her hands working deftly with a needle and a piece of fabric. The exclamation catches her ear and she looks up, blinking as she seeks out the source of the sound.
Milani drops the handful of pins into her pocket and brushes her hair back a little, turns towards one of the benches and discovers it occupied. "Well hey there, you're um .... Sunna right?" the assistant headwoman mangles Sunniva's name a little and moves towards where she sits. "We've had so many Candidates come in, I'm sorry if that's not quite your name?"
"Oh, it is close," Sunniva replies, letting her sewing -- a pouch of some sort? -- rest in her lap. "My name is Sunniva." She flashes the other woman a smile, motioning for her to take a seat if she will. Apologetically, she adds, "I am sorry, but I cannot recall your name -- trying to keep track of the other candidates and other people and not getting lost ... it is a dreadfully dizzying experience."
"Sunniva, right," Milani says with a laugh and a little wrinkle of her nose. "I'm sorry. And I'm Milani and I'm in charge of all of you, if you don't remember from that first crazy day," Millie says and nods acceptance as she settles into place, kicks off her shoes and folds her legs up beneath her. The glass she holds is handled carefully and she takes a sop from its contents. "Dizzying. So, is everything still going in circles or is it settling out a little for you?"
"Oh! Oh, yes. Milani." She frowns at her failure to recall, shaking her head a little with mild dismay. Sunni starts working on the pouch again, though she glances over at Milani periodically for the sake of polite conversation. "Oh, I do not know quite yet," she admits, "though I suppose it is settling out just a bit. My head is not spinning nearly as much as it did when I first arrived. You must be having quite a time of it yourself, dealing with the whole motley lot of us."
"What are you working on?" Milani asks next, peering over curiously and then she smiles at Sunniva warmly. "Takes a while I guess, though you're up from Fort right?" She laughs again and rubs at her face. "It's not so bad until Gebinal and Vorsam start going at it about whose cot needs to be closest to the door /again/. Mostly it's that it's a busy time of turn. Tithes and all."
"This?" the pouch -- made of a thin, pale green fabric -- is offered for Milani's inspection. "I am making a potpourri pouch for Hali. She rather liked the one I had, so I felt I should make her one." Explanation made, Sunniva nods a bit more, "Yes, from Fort. But that does not help me when it comes to wandering about." Her head cocks a little to a side at the last, nose wrinkling sympathetically. "Tithes, candidates ... that sounds dreadfully busy. But, at least, we candidates will be out of your hair soon enough."
The headwoman's assistant take the pouch and gently rubs the fabric between her fingers. "Nice fabric," Milani notes and her face lights up with understanding. "Ohh, to make things smell nice, sure. We put like, big ones in some of the store rooms, with wood chips in more than dead flowers though," she explains. "And noo every Weyr is kind of different. I still get lost a little at Ista even though I've spent a lot of time down there." The last makes Milani laugh again. "Well /some/ of you will be and others will Impress and then they'll be Weyrlings." She winks.
The candidate goes back to work, tight, neat stitches being used to form the 'sleeve' that the binding length of ribbon will be worked through. "Yes, exactly like that," Sunniva brightens, nodding fervently. A sidelong look is cast her way, then back to the work at hand. "Hopefully when this is all over, I will not get lost here ever again," she laughs, her voice soft. Cultured. To the last, she offers a faint half-smile and counters with, "Ah, but they will be out of *your* hair and thoroughly entangled in the Weyrlingmaster's."
"That's a lot prettier than anything we stick in stores. My mother would like to see it I bet. She likes to weave and sew even though she's a rider," Milani explains, knees jiggling a little and she has another sip of her drink which seems to quell the jitters a bit. "Oh I'll bet you'll sort it out soon enough, so you're not getting lost before even the eggs hatch." Beam. "And nooo not really. I mean they'll be primarily the Weyrlingmaster's problem, but lower caverns serve everyone, right? So I'll be making sure the Weyrlings have the right clothes for training, enough blankets for their cots, ummm - leather for making straps, pots of numbweed for all the cuts and bumps and little burns, ummm ... oh all sorts of things. Oh yeah, furniture when they move into weyrs." Her shoulders lift and drop again. "I'm busy and a little tired right now, but in the end, it's okay to be busy. Rather that than bored and well, I like helping people find stuff."
Dipping her head at the compliment, Sunniva murmurs an appreciative noise of some sort and comments with a wry curve of a smile, "Well, of course, but you will not be herding them directly, which must be a trial in and of itself." But the rest is just nodded to, understandingly. Ah and there. Done. The thread is knotted and clipped neatly, the resulting pouch being eyed with her particular brand of scrutiny. Satisfied, she is able to turn more fully to face Milani, head canted to a side. "Oh, yes. Better to be busy; idle hands always end up causing trouble for want of something else to do."
"It's work but it's interesting work," Milani says earnestly, balancing her glass partly on one knee though her hand stays curved around it. "I mean, so many different people come in on Search right? All from different places. It's always eye-opening." The completed pouch is regarded with a brief smile. "I'm sure Hali will like that a lot. Do you know what scents you'll put in it?" And more laughter. "Oh for sure. I mean I used to be like that when I was a kid."
"It sounds fascinating," Sunni remarks with equal earnesty, hands soon folding in her lap. "Oh, and it is so /strange/. But, it always seemed that riders never came from the Weyr they ride for and now I see why. It makes me wonder how the dragons just ... /know/ where to find candidates." With no ribbon to thread through the pouch, it just remains in her lap as well. "Something earthy, she said, so I shall try to find something suitable." She smiles, shakes her head a little. "My younger sisters are very much like that, in their own way."
"Always something new, definitely!" Milani says gaily and tries to keep her knees from bouncing, has to lift her glass to sip again to make them relax. "Beats me about dragons, my mother says it feels like this weird compulsion in her head when Sionath is finding someone though." Millie ponders the idea of earthy by the look on her face and the lowly murmured single word echo: "Earthy ... maybe herbs instead of flowers?" she suggests then focuses in on Sunniva's words on family. "How many sisters do you have? I have a sister, two half-sisters, two half-brothers and a bunch of foster-siblings."
Sunniva's mouth rounds into a soundless 'oh' at the description and she frowns a little, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. "That must be peculiar," she settles on rather lamely, glancing to her hands. "The ways of dragons are so- so inexplicable." Those hands splay helplessly, then lace together, and she continues along the other part of the conversation with, "Herbs, yes. Perhaps some kind of wood or another. Mm? Oh, there are six of us in all; three older than me and two younger. We also have two older half-brothers."
"Yeah, I'll bet," Milani says with another expressive shrug. "I wouldn't know really, just hear what the riders say about things, you know? So I understand a little? But I don't /know/," she elaborates thoughtfully and the motion of Sunniva's hands is taken in, eyed curiously. "Sandalwood?" Millie ponders then shakes her head. "Probably too much," she continues laughingly then pays attention as the other young woman describes her family. "As big and almost as complicated as mine. But it must be nice to have the company."
"Indeed." Sunniva leaves it at that and settles back slightly, though her posture is still unwaveringly stiff. "Mm. Sandalwood in a small amount, perhaps." It is worth consideration at least and she mentally jots that down. The family thing is what gives her a bit of pause and she looks slightly away, "Well, yes. It rather was. Berit is at Fort, of course, and she is all the family I have there." Pause. "And Ella is visiting, but she should be due to return to the Hold soon enough." She hopes. A small smile surfaces. "But, I have made friends to make up for it, now."
"Ohh, so not weyrbred," Milani concludes from mention of the hold. "It must be ... different now she's Weyrwoman too?" the assistant headwoman inquires carefully, head tilted to the side. "And friends are always good. I like making friends. But then again, people usually have a hard time getting me to be quiet, so maybe that's obvious."
"Oh, oh no. Fort Weyr was the first place I had ever visited, to be honest, and that was to see Berit." Something about the memory pulls at the corner of her mouth and Sunni shakes her head to clear it. "It is a lot more difficult, yes. I do not see her often and she is always so busy- but she will do well, I think." To the latter, she nods again, a rueful touch to her otherwise everpresent, if polite, smile. "I am often too quiet, so perhaps I can sympathize in a roundabout way."
"Really? The first place? Shells, I can't imagine that. Even without being a dragonrider, I've been sooo many places with my parents and with my big brother. He used to ride at Fort. He was the Weyrlingmaster until he moved to Ista a little while ago," Millie explains. "And I can understand that, seems like it's that way with any big job." She reached over intending to pat Sunniva's knee lightly. "I hope you get some visits while you're here." Her face split into a wide smile at the last. "Opposite sides of the mark, huh? Just don't hesitate to tell me to put a sock in it if I'm blathering on and on."
"Yes, the first. I- I was rather content to stay at the Hold, honestly. A lifetime spent embroidering near the hearth and waiting to be married off and have lots of children," her tone is almost wistful and strangely longing. "But, that has all changed." And she's still not sure it's for the better. Sunniva's brows lift and she casts back for a name that's hazarded, "P'draig? He was a very kind man." The pat to her knee elicits a slight warming of her smile and another bowing of her head. "One of my dearest friends promised to visit, so I have that to look forward to. Ah, and so we are! Do not worry much about blathering, I am rather good about listening."
"You could still get married and have lots of children at the Weyr," Milani points out. "Or weyrmate. Or not. Whatever floats your boat really," she says in a practical manner. "It's kind of what's nice about Weyrs I think. You kind of set your own expectations for yourself," she muses thoughtfully. "I mean there's still other expectations but other than some of the kids being expected to Impress or not, you're not locked in to any one thing." A bob of Millie's head confirms her brother's identity. "Yep! P'draig. Paddy. And he really is. At least I think so but he's my brother so I guess I'm kind of biased." Her smile blossoms in full at news of a visitor. "Oh that's excellent. Very good. If I'm lucky I'll get to meet your friend too." Because apparently Millie really is just that out-going. "You're right, you've been listening to me, so there you go, that's a very good skill to have, especially in a Weyr."
"Perhaps," but Sunniva's not holding out much hope of having that placid life. "I think much of my problem is that I have no ... real desires of my own. I want that -- marriage, children -- because I was raised to and never had a chance, nor a desire, to question it." The admission comes in a rush and she exhales sharply, turning her gaze directly to her hands. Nodding ensues when her guess is confirmed, a small smile at being able to connect the dots. Further, "Oh, yes. D'kai is such a dear and his Mikhuth is even more of one. I feel awful for leaving Fort," and him, though that's merely implied, "but this is something that must be done." And to the last, she manages a soft chuckle and a nod, though she says nothing more -- only furthering her assertion that she's good at listening.
"You ... don't?" Milani looks rather surprised by this admission and can't seem to quite figure out what to make of it for a moment or two. "Guess you're in a good place for figuring some of that out then. Seems like sometimes being a candidate helps people with that. Like a wake up call for some, or just really points out paths that they do or don't want to take. Like, for some even being a rider might not be the right choice," she muses aloud thoughtfully and her legs settle down to relaxed for the first time since she sat down. "D'kai and Mikhuth ... wait he was one of the bronzes wasn't he?"
"No, I- I do not." The thought is vexing and worthy of a shake of her head. Sunniva offers a slight smile that's slightly distorted, "I should hope so. If not, then I am far more lost than I thought I was. Riding, not riding ... I just do not want to disappoint anyone, that is all." Her hands are worthy of being studied again, the pouch being taken into her fingers. "Yes, and he is a lovely bronze. An absolute dear, actually, much like Mecaith. Some dragons are not nearly so well-tempered."
"Who would you disappoint, either way?" is what Milani jumps to, honestly curious it seems. Her glass is drained and set aside on the bench, legs drawn up to her chest and chin set atop knees. "Is he? It's weird sometimes you know, trying to get to know a dragon through the rider, not being able to know what they're saying." She grins a little wryly then shakes her head. "Mecaith? And who's not well-tempered?"
"My sister, Wroth, perhaps even D'kai -- though I suspect he would rather that I be back at Fort," she frowns a little. Sunni waves that off with a dismissive fluttering of fingers, a smile emerging at the more pleasant part of the conversation, "Well, some of it comes from just being around the dragon, too. And Mecaith is T'rev's -- I had to patch the poor dear up some time ago, but he was a dear about it and ever so patient." Her shoulders lift, then fall, "Other dragons do not like being handled by anyone at all, which makes it difficult to work on them."
"Ohhh. Does ... does your sister expect a lot?" Still just honestly curious is Milani though she makes a little face about Wroth. "Oh he's just a crankypants is Wroth, don't you worry your head about him." Her arms tighten around her legs and she smiles about D'kai. "You're sweet on him, aren't you? It's hard doing the whole, two different Weyrs thing," she notes sympathetically. "But at least it's not too long until you find out whether you're staying or heading back or doing something else entirely." She nods towards the pouch in Sunniva's lap. "If you like sewing, I bet you could make a go at Weavering." Her mouth makes a small -o- about the dragons. "Got it. And that's true. Some are better about it than others." There's a moment's pause and then she snaps her fingers. "/T'rev/. Curly-haired guy? He lost a set of straps here during Vrianth's last flight and a jacket or something. Poor guy was /that/ addled."
"I rather think she will be upset either which way, honestly," is spoken with a soured expression. "Bad enough I could not find her to tell her I had been searched and wound up leaving a letter." Sunniva does blink with genuine surprise at the bit about Wroth, "Really? He seems like such a dear to me and a touch protective, too." About D'kai, however, the blush that arises to her cheeks is telling enough. "I- yes, I suppose you could say that. Berit disapproves, but she wants what is best for me. That is why she suggested dragonhealing; fortunately, the work is agreeable. I am too old to get into a craft, I think, and that was more my sister's strength than mine." A bit of nodding follows, a bit more fervently at the description. "Yes! That would be him. He seems so otherwise calm! How strange!"
"/Wroth/?" Milani blinks at Sunniva's assessment of E'dre's cranky, loud brown. "Maybe it's because he Searched you," she finally settles on a middle ground here and blows out a short breath. "But E'dre's always grousing about how much of a pain he is," she notes informatively and stretches long legs out in front of her and arms above her head, letting bare feet drop down to cool stone. "Well, I hope it works out for you and this D'kai fellow if he's as nice as you say. And if Berit disapproves well pooh on her," Millie says determinedly and grins over at Sunniva. "How old are you anyway? My friend Amerie went down there and started when she was ummm 18 or 19." She laughs a little at the last. "I think that it doesn't matter how calm you are normally. Flights mess with your head."
Confused, Sunni just nods. "Yes, Wroth. Though I suppose that might be why," she frowns a little, "but that is all the more reason not to want to disappoint him." Some lip-chewing follows and only increases a bit at the next bit, her gaze sliding away. "I rather hope it does, too, though I know that him being a rider means it will be difficult." The idea of 'poohing' on Berit elicits a startled look and then a shake of her head, with her pushing to her feet and putting her things away. "Nineteen," she recounts, "but being a crafter is not my lot in life, of that, I am fairly certain." Flights. That's a shudder-worthy topic that she has nothing to comment on.
Something about Sunniva's manner wrinkles Milani's brows with concern and she pushes up to her feet, reaches out to rest her hand lightly against the other young woman's arm. "Look, Sunniva, I'm sorry if I said anything um ... out of turn. Sometimes I say too much. Not just too many words, but too much stuff in them," she says candidly. "But really, I hope that it all turns out for the best and that you'll have a pleasant time here." Beat. "/I'm/ certainly glad you're here because you seem like a really nice person and you put up with me chatterboxing at you." There's another one of her wide open smiles and she nods. "See? At least you've figured one thing out for yourself," she says cheerily then reaches for her glass and abandoned shoes. "I think it's about time for supper though. See you at the Barracks for check-in."