Day at the Races (Part one)

[nikoth]

I stole most of this from Griere, the itty bitty end after she leaves, I did. :D



Plateau -- Ista Weyr(#1094RJs)

In the slanting light of sunset, everything is bathed in golden light. The Istan Plateau is barely visible here on ground level for what it is: a mass of lava that flowed out from the broken line of the northwestern Istan bowl toward and into the sea. The rich soil of the plateau yields a lush dusky emerald and violet carpet of vegetation. The plateau suddenly ends at the sea in a high sloping cliff. You can see the rainbow of a roaring waterfall at the center edge, fed from a large pool that dragons often are found bathing in. A well-worn trail leads south from the plateau and down to the black volcanic sands of the island's beaches. The massive spires of the five black Spindles rise out of the ebon rock of the far side of the Weyr bowl to loom menacingly, distant yet still stark against the sky. The massive black stone of the Weyr seems to absorb all the sunset light falling on it.

For the race, a section of the plateau has been transformed into a track outline with stakes and string in a large oval. Each stake has a bundle of flowers tied to it, as do the posts of a nearby pavilion with a sail cloth roof to provide some shade for onlookers as well as to protect the feast table for the possibility of rain on this humid, Istan day. Large, colorful umbrellas have been erected across a gentle rise of land, an area roped a few feet back from the track and designated for spectators.

Paths lead down to the beach and back toward the Weyr around the corrals.

Late afternoon drips into early evening and with the slanting of the sun's rays comes a little respite from the tropical heat. A soft breeze kicks up from the across the ocean and while that may further cool the thick air, it also has a good number of spectators holding onto their hats as they gather for the race.

Griere is among those assembling on the plateau and yes, she's wearing a hat. It's a wide brimmed thing tipped at an artful angle, a variety of pink irises piled to one side and the whole thing held in place with a white ribbon tied under her chin. Her arms are crossed as she surveys the feast table with a critical eye.

X'lar is but one of the many spectators holding onto his hat, walking amongst a few friends, chuckling quietly at a joke told by another. "But I'm just saying. Always bet on youth. That Rocky-whatsit has the youngest rider, of -course- they're going to win," X'lar is commenting to them, only to be given a roll of the eyes from some, and a couple smirks from others. The bronzerider just raises his hands before walking off, calling out to them as he leaves to find other company: "Just warning you is all!" And it just so happens that company he finds is the Weyrwoman herself. "G'day, Weyrwoman," X'lar offers, tipping his own trilby-like hat to her. "Good day for a race."

Betting has been moved to the temporary pavillion and those who still have a mark to spend now gather around to place their bets. Behind the throng is a large slate and with every new bet a young man tallies and recalculates the odds, constantly erasing then from the board and rewriting the lastest numbers.

In his hand A'son has a particularly terrible looking hat, a top hat to be exact. It's made from a felt like material and has various colorful paper flowers attached to it. He's up to the gathering of people, staring at it and obviously contemplating whether he actually wants to put it on his head. He eventually arrives by the pavillion places a bet and then turns out to wander through the throngs.

Overhead, Siarith's platinum hide as it spirals down into the bowl is cast in the rose light of an Istan sunset. Shortly after her likely landing, Fort's youngest goldrider traipses her way up the plateau, looking decidedly winded when she makes it to the top. "Whew," exclaims the blonde, patting at the invisible beads of perspiration on her forehead. Suvain's own hat hangs from ribbons about her wrist, her gaze dancing from here to there and back again at everything to see. "Nice, nice... Nice." Pleased, she moves forth into the crowds, neck craned to try and look over head tops.

Evening, X'lar," Griere replies to the former weyrling with a nod of her head and a smooth, cool smile. but A'son goes to pass by, having freshly placed his bet, and the Istan weyrwoman's hand shoots out to grab his arm. "Who did you bet on?" she asks him, as if it's any of her business. And she adds for X'lar, "I don't normally waste my money in such a fashion but it seems I should do so today, doesn't it?"

As the gathering crowd grows larger, the entered horses make their way from the corrals, one by one, each taking their turn to be paraded before the spectators. First up is Tempest, the dappled gray from Red Sands Hold. With all the eyes on him, he picks up his step and gives his handler a gentle nudge.

X'lar looks over his shoulder, seeing A'son and then later Suvain as the Fortian junior arrives. "G'day to you both, too," X'lar calls out. He tips his hat once for Suvain as well, calling out additionally, "And Ista's duties to Fort." Though Xie's attention doesn't linger. His eyes seem rather distracted with as much food as there is on the table nearby. Remarkably, the Timor wingrider doesn't snake a hand around to snag any food just yet. "This seven seems like the perfect time for betting, had a rather fancy game of cards with Weyrleader N'thei the other day too. I won, but it was... hollow." There's a smirk there, too, the bronzerider glancing back to A'son briefly before back to Griere. He tells the Istan Senior: "I would, ma'am, I'm sure the riders of the runners would appreciate your support, Weyrwoman." He glances toward the horses again, wrinkling his nose as he sees Tempest arrive. "Not sure I like the looks of 'im," X'lar comments idly.

Milani walks over from the northwest bowl.
Milani has arrived.

Tegara slides down from Riaceth.
Tegara has arrived.

"The yellow one. I'm sorry and I talked to three people the other day." A'son says in one long rush of words. Surprised by Griere's sudden appearance and her hand on his arm. "I shouldn't even ask you if I should wear this because you're going to say yes or do what you want." He holds the hat up for her inspection with one hand before placing it on his head. His eyes scan the gathering crowds and he says to the goldrider next to him. "Is that one of Fort's?" Inclining his head in the direction of Suvain.

T'mic walks over from the northwest bowl.
T'mic has arrived.

Somewhere along the way, some kindly man's taken pity on Suvain and her lost-and-dazed expression and guided her through the betting process just in time for the parade of runners to start. "Thank you, thank you so much," imparts the Fortian blonde to the elderly man, her gratitude effusive, and turns, overhearing X'lar's called greeting. She waves, quizzically confused; does she know him? Likely not, but the greeting's enough for the teen to amble over. Her hat goes on in the mean time, the ribbon tied jauntily to the side of her chin. "Fort's greetings to Ista," first to X'lar, then to Griere. "Ma'am. Did you see?" Enthused, she gestures to the runners being shown.

"No?" Griere says to X'lar, pressing up to her toes to try to see over the heads toward the track where Tempest has made his arrival. "I rather like his coloring." In this peering position, she sees Suvain and offers her a nod, "Ista's duties and welcome. Have you placed a bet?" But it's A'son's response and included apology that catch her attention. She pats his arm and withdraws her hand. "Don't speak of it." It's not a command, either, just a polite urging paired with a smile.

The skittish entry from Rocky Hold, Rowdy Rocks Crown, takes his turn in front of the crowd, the agitated whites of his eyes showing as he spooks and side-steps awkwardly at the end of his lead. By contrast, Jungle Jewel comes onto the track looking as if she expects another day of labor, her head low and her steps plodding. The only sign that she's actually going to run this race is the sheet beneath her saddle with a big '3' painted on either side.

The bright sound of youthful chatter precedes Milani and T'mic down the path from the Bowl. Millie, dressed to the nines in blue with a big old broad-brimmed straw hat. "... and thank you so much again, T'mic." Her voice cuts out as they round the bend and she shades her eyes, hat notwithstanding to take in the scene. "Wow ..." she breathes out, wide-eyed.

A'son looks around, "Is your man around or is he on business?" He asks of Griere, apparently trying to catch an eyeful of V'lano if he's within the vicinity. "I could be your company if you like?" When Suvain is suddenly upon them, he nods his head to her. "Ista's duties to Fort. Have you placed a bet?" He asks politely, offering a friendly enough smile. When the skittish horse goes by he looks at it with caution. "I was never much on these types of animals."

X'lar watches from Rowdy to Jewel, then glances back to Griere, saying, "Each to their own then, I suppose, ma'am." He grins briefly before saying, "Maybe I like the less... colourful ones for a reason." The bronzerider rolls his shoulders, his hand finally snagging food. A piece of bread, wouldn't you know. Millie and T'mic, for now, are not noticed, as X'lar takes another looks to the runners and then back to the Rocky Hold runner, pointing him out to Griere, "That's the one I like. But I think that Jewel one could be a contender too. I placed my marks on the Rocky Hold one in any case." He gives another nod to Suvain, coupled with a warm smile. And then it's back to his newly acquired bread.

T'mic has no hat, but that doesn't stop him from appreciatively eyeing the ones that are here already. "Some thing, huh? Hey, looks like they're getting ready to go. Got any marks to lose, want to place 'em on a runner?" The dark-haired greenrider is quickly subsumed into the crowd, but that doesn't blunt his cheerfulness. "We should get some food, too."

Caitlyn walks over from the northwest bowl.
Caitlyn has arrived.

"Nope, all those Gathers this summer tapped me clean out," Milani states with only the faintest hint of regret. "But I'd rather just watch the racing anyway. And /food/ is definitely a good idea." Taller than the greenrider by far, Millie's standingon tiptoes lets her see over a goodly portion of the crowd. "The Weyrleader and Weyrwoman are over there ... and I think that's Xie near them." She points in that direction, threading after T'mic through the crowd, one hand to her hat to keep it in place.

Tegara slides down from her dragon and shoos the green to the beach -- done as quickly as possible so as not to scare the runners. She is dressed in her green and white Istan finery with one small difference -- she is wearing an enormous, crocheted hat just loaded with flowers -- enough to give one a sevendays bout ot hayfever. She scans the crowd and idly searches for familiar faces before heading off to place her bet.

Covered in shiny blue sisal and trimmed in lace, Suvain's dainty concoction of a hat perches smartly on her blonde locks, adjusted by a finger under the ribbon band. "Hmm?" she asks, having lost the thread of the conversation in the seconds she took to stare at the latest parading horse. "Oh." A blink. A smile. A look cuts between Griere and A'son as they ask the same question, but it's Ista's Weyrwoman who she finally flashes a brilliant smile at. "I have, ma'am. Jungle Jewel in fact. Mostly," her laughter bubbly, "Because the name was interesting. Suvain, ma'am. Sir. From Fort."

"He's around, yes," Griere answers A'son of her weyrmates whereabout. "But I'll take the company until he's back. Her hand moves over a full mark piece and she offers it to X'lar, "Would you place my bet for me? On the gray one. Number one, I think he's wearing." And she turns to Suvain again with a hostess' smile. "Enjoying the festivities?"

Look's like someone's making an appearance after days of hiding out. Caitlyn trudges up the path from the bowl, hands shoved into her pockets, expression pensive. The woman remains on the fringes of the crowd, looking out at the small sea of holder and weyrfolk humanity.

Vladilen walks over from the northwest bowl.
Vladilen has arrived.

A'son offers his arm to Griere, "Well then, I'll be your temporary company until he returns to steal you." For the bubbly junior from Fort, he sports an amused grin. "Yes, Jungle Jewel is a most interesting name. She seems to be more laid back than the others though. From Ista Hold, right?" He asks, looking off in the direction of the runner. He waves politely to a few of the passer-byers.

Swift Desert Squall kicks up his heels in a display of youthful energy that has his handler tugging the lead and laughing, "Save it for the race, boy." The last entry, Ray, makes his way onto the track, his flashy color looking even more brilliant in the slowly setting sun. His trainer has to pull him up from a few attempts to stop and nibble at the plateau grasses.

So much for bread. When X'lar's eyes finally catch sight of Milani, the rider's hands fumble and unfortunately lose their grip on the doughy goodness that is his bread. "Bloody shells," X'lar remarks, grinning despite the loss of his food. Apparently the exclamation is for Milani's current dress rather than the loss of his poor roll. "Evenin' Millie," Xie calls out to her. But as he hears Griere, the bronzer nods again at her saying, "Of course, ma'am." With Xie's eyes still on the Reachian woman, the Timor wingrider unfortunately bumps into a few people in the process of going to bet for Griere. "On the gray one," Xie repeats.

Vladilen slips and moves through the throngs of people arriving for the race. He says a few quiet hellos to the occasional person that he knows, a brief smile for the ones he's not as familiar with. The tall man walks swiftly over to the temporary pavillion and places his bet, then exits moving past the Weyrleaders and the other Istans, fighting to get a good few of the race about to start.

T'mic drifts along the food table with Milani on-arm, pausing now and again to collect a tidbit or ogle a dainty. "Well, I scraped up about half a mark on, uh, Tempest, I think the name is." He grins up at her and is about to add something when X'lar's words cut through a lull. The man's grin broadens and he goes up onto tiptoe to whisper something to her, drops back down with a nod. With his attention split so many ways, it's no wonder he hasn't noticed anyone hovering silently at the edge of the crowd.

"Nice odds on that one," Griere remarks to Suvain as she slips her arm in A'son's. With a glance over her shoulder, she check the latest scribble on the board. "Nine to one? Very nice." X'lar's attention drags her own off toward T'mic and the girl she doesn't recognize, at least until her name is said, and then the goldrider's lips twist to the side and she just nods her thanks to X'lar before he heads off with her bet.

A bright giggle answers Mic's murmur and her low-voiced answer is likely lost over the hubbub of the crowd. Next she flings up an arm to wave X'lar's way exuberantly as she catches his called out greeting. "Hey Xie!" A little headshake answers the rest of T'mic's query as she gently frees her arm and reaches for a plate to stack with items from the buffet. She squints briefly at the board too, but likely can't make heads or tails of it, moving along and pouring herself a glass of water as she reaches the beverages.

Suvain's pretty brow mars with the wrinkles at Griere's comment on odds, confused, but pretending she's not. It's a struggle that ends in a smile for A'son rather than the Weyrwoman, finding comfort in the man's amusement. "Oh, well, I didn't really have much time to read up on the runners much. Just spotted the names and someone took my half mark piece and, well, that's how life goes I bet." A grin for her unintended pun. "I love the embroidery on your shirt, ma'am. Is it weaver done?"

Content to remain where she is, Cait simply finds herself a patch of grassy earth to plop down upon - knees bent up so her chin can rest on them - arms wrapped around legs. Runners are peered at, their jockeys, the sky - whatever manages to capture her attention for the moment.

"It is," Griere returns for Suvain's question, letting the confusion over odds slip by unremarked. She smoothes the shirt down, showing for a piece moment the modest bump of her stomach. "Are all the horses out?" she asks of A'son. He's taller , after all, and can likely tell.

A'son's eyes drift in Milani's direction when the former weyrling calls out to her. He doesn't wave a hello just yet, seeing as how far away she is and how unlikely it would be for her to see unless he yelled. Instead he focuses on the conversation at hand with Suvain and Griere. "I placed my bet on the pretty horse, if that makes you feel alright? I don't know how these things work. I'm not even sure how the odds are calculated exactly." For his Weyrwoman's question, he lifts himself onto his toes to see over the heads of a few tall people. "Ah yes, I think that's it."

X'lar returns back to Griere's side, his eyes once again looking at the food table. There's a sigh there as he looks at a replacement for his lost roll. Thankfully, however, the teen's attention is once again brought to the Istan Senior: "Did as you asked, ma'am. The gray one." Xie's bluish gray eyes look between the two goldriders curiously before settling into the background. No more words from him. Not now anyways. And not even a snake of a hand onto the food table either. That's not to say his attention isn't on it, his gaze seeming darting back from the table and those getting food to the readying runners. There's a quirk of a grin, however, as he hears A'son call one of the runners pretty, but no other words from X'lar for now.

One by one the jockeys mount and take their horses for some quick and easy jogs across the straightway, but soon they're lining up at the start point. Last minute bets are taken and the final odds are posted as the betting comes to a close. A call sounds from the track: the race is ready to begin!

Perhaps it's chance, perhaps it's luck, perhaps it's bad luck for Caitlyn that Vladilen decides his best spot to watch from is right next to her. The stores assistant drops down onto the ground next to the bluerider, peers at her and then watches the horses as they're brought down to the track. No hello, not a hey. Just takes up all the space nearby.

T'mic says "Oh, well, in -that- case...!" He trails along genially after the High Reachian visitor, nodding now and again, with a, "Nice hat," for X'lar. "Whoops, there's the call. C'mon!" He catches up her hand and hurries toward the track, though the pair will end up somewhere near the middle of the course. "It's the grey one - see? Cheer him on, so Aath will stop grumbling at me, hey?"

"The embroidery's incredibly delicate, ma'am," says the Fort goldrider, leaning in as much as it'd be appropriate to study it. "It looks like Helver's work, but maybe too fine for a man's hand." Comforted again by A'son, the pretty blonde's cheeks turn pink, her effervescent laughter brightly lifting above the crowd. "That does make me feel better, sir. You're truly a wonder at making a girl feel at home here. Is it always so hot? Had I known, I'd have dressed a little more appropriately." A glance cuts to find Griere's outfit a little enviously. "Or less at least," she says of her sleeveless blue dress.

Nearly dropping her plate as T'mic nabs her hand, Milani lets out a little eep and curls it and her glass awkwardly towards herself, still trying to be careful not to spill on her dress. On towards the track she goes and once Mic has stopped she lets the short man stand in front of her, being as she can easily see over his head. "Okay!" she agrees about the rooting on and smiles blithely as she picks out some familiar faces in the crowd as they go by.

"Oh, it's starting," Griere says, some glimmer of actual excitement showing on her face. She gives a little tug at the hat ribbon beneath her chin, reaches up to make sure all her pink irises are still in place and then, on A'son's arm and with a gesture for Suvain and X'lar to come along, she moves away from the betting stand and toward the track. She does turn for the Fort goldrider, though, "A posted weaver, actually. Jitorsa. I don't do any embroidery myself."

There's a brief, silent moment as the five horses are set at the line, the buzz of excited tension is in the air as the crowd falls to a hush. And then a beastcrafter calls the countdown... And they're off! It's a strong start for Tempest and Rowdy Rocks Crown with Swift Desert Squall and Ray close behind. Jungle Jewel is slow off the line but it appears she can, in fact, run, keeping up with the boys on the outside of the pack.

Caitlyn looks...somewhat uncomfortable with Vladilen so close to her bubble of personal space. A subtle lean away, eyes not contacting his, face not altering from its flat expression. Nope, not feeling outgoing or particularly charitable today, it seems.

X'lar tips his hat in T'mic's direction as he hears the greenrider's compliment, calling out: "Why thank you Mic!" He blinks a couple times at Griere's gesture and follows. Xie's eyes glance back toward the Fortian junior, giving Suvain another brief, but still genuine smile. But then the races begin and X'lar's grinning fiercely at the competition, calling out over the din of the other people watching the races: "Look at 'em go!"

A'son laughs at Suvain's comment about his welcoming abilities. "I try, I guess. Come on, you and X'lar. We'll try and find a good place to watch." He says, nodding his head towards the tracks. He follows along after Griere, allowing her to lead the way to a good location. "Oh, I wonder if my horse is going to tank at this."

Since there's no one else around and Vladilen is feeling quite talkative today, apparently, he shifts closer to Caitlyn, just a little. "Oh, hey! Look at that one over there! Seems like the gray one is going real fast. I can see why they picked him! Oh, but mine is losing... I wish I knew something about horses. Sharding things. So hard to tell."

T'mic grins back at Milani; whatever he'd add is lost in the roar from the crowd. The greenrider whips front again to cheer, a nibble of spiderclaws toppling from his plate, unnoticed.

At the first quarter, it's Rowdy Rocks Crown in the lead with Swift Desert Squall just a half-length behind. Tempest seems to be caught on the rail but is moving well, plenty of race left in him. Ray and Jungle Jewel are only a few lengths off the pace with Jewel starting to inch ahead by a nose.

Gestured to following along; it's a new feeling for the Fortian junior and she looks suitably puzzled, more so at the fact that she's compelled to follow than Griere's silent command itself. Suvain looks to X'lar, a little expectant, her good humor shining out of that smile for the Istan bronzerider. On the very tips of her tiny heels, she looks to the starting race. Whatever answer she might have given Griere is lost in the excitement of a wondrous oooh. "C'mon, Jungle Jewel!"

Forget having her arm slung all lady-like through A'son's, now Griere is holding onto his sleeve as she tries to make herself taller, up on her little tip toes to peer as best she can over the crowd. "Oh, he's... he's... He's not losing yet," she says of her horse with reserved hope.

Tegara has been staying away from the bulk of the crowd, more interested in watch the runners -- well, run. "Go Squall, go!" she yells, until her sight line fades going in the first turn. Another scan of the crowd, and she notices a none-too-comfortable Catlyn, and makes a bee-line to her. "Hi Vladilen," she says out of courtesy and turns back to Cait with a genuine smile. "Mind if I join you?"

Milani just shakes her head and toes Mic's lost spiderclaws out of the way. His loss. She makes sure she's clear of jabbing elbows and props her plate in one hand, props her glass on a clear section of it and eats relatively carefully and neatly while watching the runners thunder around. "Oooh - yours is stuck-ish, T'mic," she points out an takes another healthy bite out of her not-lost spiderclaw. She gives a little wave of three fingers, the first two holding up that 'claw as Suvain and X'lar swing into view again, dogging the Weyrleaders' heels. "Exciting isn't it?" she calls over the intervening space.

There's a tall pair of riders in the way of their view and A'son reaches over, politely tapping both of the men once on their shoulders. They look annoyed when they glance behind them, but quickly school those expressions and inch away as far as they can, giving Griere somewhat of a window between them. A'son laughs as he watches the horse he placed a bet on falling behind and shakes his head. "Oh, how surprising. Come on, horse!"

The horses pass the halfway mark on the far side of the track, a bit of effort has Swift Desert Squall taking the lead in an all out sprint. Rowdy Rocks Crown and Tempest hold a steady pace and behind them Ray tries to get off rail without losing ground to Jungle Jewel who blocks him in.

"C'mon Rocky!" X'lar calls out to the runner. The close ompetition between all the runners clearly makes the bronzerider happy, watching with keen eyes. There's another glance to Suvain before his eyes are driven back to the excitement on the course as the runners continue their race. But then X'lar hears Milani again and X'lar grins wide at her, replying back loud enough to be heard, "Always!" And then his sights are once again returned to the runners, shouting out: "Come on Rocky! Get back in it there!"

Vladilen looks over at Tegara, he looks confused as if he doesn't know her at first. Then the assisant ohs softly. "Hello. I forgot your name." Then he points out towards the horses, "Did you place a bet or are you just spectating?"

Griere hardly seems to notice the effort that A'son has made on her behalf, but she does seem to appreciate it, inching over toward him to take advantage of that window he's provided for her. She waves an idle hand for Suvain to slip in close to her and peer through the hole as well. "Why aren't they running faster? That horse just totally pulled out ahead?" Totally? It appears that even Griere can let her propriety down for a moment when there's a race at hand.

T'mic continues to cheer, oblivious to lost food. "C'mon, Tempest! Run! Whoo!" As they settle into the backstretch he steals a moment to have a bite of fish, lifts onto his toes to try and peer through the crowd. He's not as petite as the Weyrwoman, but there are more shoulders and backs-of-heads in his view than there are gaps to see through. "C'mon, c'mon!"

Perks to following Griere and A'son includes the immediate view clear. Suvain drops down off her tip toes and smiles big at A'son. "Thanks." If he sees or hears, what with all the yelling. "Thanks!" More enthusiastic, the blonde Fortian slips in by Griere. Her own yell joins, unladylike and encouraging, "You can do it, Jewel! That's how you do it. Keep him in!" Then sheepishly repentant. "Oh, I'm so sorry, was that in your ear, ma'am?"

The third quarter is reached as they round the turn. Swift Desert Squall's burst of speed seems to dwindle already and Tempest is gaining on him with Rowdy Rocks Crown on the outside. Ray finally finds his break, swinging out from the rail and making Jungle Jewel pull up to avoid collision.

Caitlyn winces at all Vladilen's gushing words, trying to withdraw further into her own space. Even the arrival of Tegara can't seem to pull her out of her funk much - the bluerider giving her second a low, "Tegs," plus a nod. "Nice to meet you..." is mumbled to Vladilen, and the woman is scrambling to her feet, and trudging back off towards the bowl as fast as she can go without looking as if she's running.

Having made steady inroads into her plate, Milani now eases her glass off of it and drinks down the contents, though she's still watching the race over its rim. The glass is moved aside as Tempest starts to gain. "He's getting some ground, Mic!" she tells him. Just in case he can't see.

All that yelling, but it's Suvain's call, so very close, that has Griere covering her ear. She shoots a surprised look at Suvain but the other goldrider is so readily apologetic that she avoids a dirty look. "Oh, A'son, your horse... That can't be good. And look at mine!" There might be a chance yet!

A'son gently removes his arm from Griere's, taking a step back and allowing Suvain to take his place and the view. He knocks his elbow into X'lar. "Hey kid, it looks like your horse isn't doing too bad. He might even catch up and pass those others too. Oh hey, good going horse! Break outta there!" He laughs at his goldrider's excitement, placing a hand on her shoulder as he gets on his toes to look easily over head and Suvain's.

Caitlyn walks to the northwest bowl.
Caitlyn has left.

"Oh no!" Suvain forgets that she's by Ista's Weyrwoman and gasps when Jewel looks like he's about to fall and then doesn't. "Oh, I should have brought a fan. All this excitement."

"C'mon ROWDY!" X'lar yells out, perhaps louder than expected, but doesn't seem all that embarrassed by it at all either. The bronzerider's eyes keep the Rocky Hold runner in sights, with few looks in between toward Squall and then to Tempest, the once more back to Rowdy Rocks Crown. There's a smirk at A'son, telling him: "If I can win at cards in a table of old men, that runner there can darn well win this race, Weyrleader." There's a look to Suvain as he takes off his hat to give to her. "Maybe the hat'll help, fan you, ma'am," X'lar tells her, smiling briefly once again at the Fortian goldrider.

As they come down the home stretch it's Swift Desert Squall still barely holding his lead, Tempest and Rowdy Rocks Crown coming up along either side at an all-out run. Ray makes his move, picking up speed, but it may be too late for him to catch the leaders. Jungle Jewel, meanwhile, seems to have had enough of this racing thing and anyone who's still paying attention to the back end of the pack might see her jockey laughing.

Mic settles into an increasingly loud chant of, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" "Aath needs her marks!" he yells, as though Tempest will hear it and somehow be encouraged to run all the faster. "Go! /Go/!"

Milani only grins as the shouting gets louder and people get more and more into it. She drains the last of the liquid in her glass and leans up on tip-toes a little to peer towards the end of the track. The gentleman behind /her/ nudges her lightly and she colors, drops back down to her heels, shuffles over a little and looks behind her to make sure she's not blocking anyone, then leans up again to see the end of the race.

Griere lets out a gasp as the horses bunch up toward the finish line. "Oh, I can't..." Her brows pinch as she tries to figure out who has an edge, but she can't make heads or tails about what the outcome will be. Instead she just yells out, "Come on, gray horse!"

Tegara looks in consternation as her 'leader leaves the party. "I hope you'll be okay," she says in concern. "Just have Kint bespeak Ria if you need anythin'." She stands up straight, right on her tippy-toes, to see how her horse has been doing. "Go Squall! You can do it! Go Squall, go!"

As they cross the finish line it's Rowdy Rocks Crown by a head! Tempest takes a strong second and Ray has overtaken Swift Desert Squall to claim third, leaving Squall in fourth. Jungle Jewel barely canters across the line, nostrils flairing and her jockey giving her a hearty pat on the neck.

Horse #2 is the winner!

"Oh." Suvain startles when X'lar offers his hat and beams a quicksilver grin up at the bronzerider, properly adoring for his gentlemanlyness. She takes it delicately between her two fingers, careful of any sweat that might have dampened it, and fans her neck and face with it slowly. "Ah well," she jokes of Jungle Jewel and his decision to quit, "I like a runner who knows when she's thoroughly beat." She startles again when Griere yells, a laugh for the Weyrwoman's own enthusiasm. "Go, gray horse!" Too late. "Awww."

"Come on... yellow horse!" A'son shouts, but then his horse comes in third and he laughs, shaking his head. "Oh, well. A hit to the pocket alright. Good thing I don't throw money away too often." He watches as the last horse crosses the line. "I think you'd like the jockey then, too. Looks like he's almost glad his animal lost. He was laughing away like a loon as they were going down the track."

"YOUTH WINS! YOUTH WINS!" X'lar yells out... youthfully. He practically screams it as he watches the Rocky Hold runner win by a head, laughing aloud in glee. "Woooooooo!" X'lar yells out, repeating himself again as he makes sure Rowdy actually has won the race. "Woooooooooo!" The teen very nearly tips backward at the glee. Take that, bread. He doesn't need doughy goodness, he just won a ton of marks! The bronzerider, flush with joy of having seen the runner win, looks to Suvain again and grins wide, saying, happy, "It was a -great- race."

"So close!" Griere exlaims at the end of the race. "I thought he might actually do it." But she does turn to share a laugh with Suvain and A'son. "She was running for a while, at least. She just sort of gave up at the end there..." But then X'lar's elated screamings have her covering an ear again. "I guess he won," she chuckles.

A'son takes a step away from X'lar, laughing and shaking his head. "Shards, man. Alright, youth wins." He gives the former weyrling an amused look. "Yeah, his horse won. I think we'll be hearing about this for sevendays and months to come. You were quite close with yours, Griere. Second place isn't too bad."

"Poor Jewel," mourns Suvain laughingly, for X'lar's youthful triumph is infectious. "You won? Oh, /you won/!!" Excited for the Istan she's just met, the blonde throws impulsive arms up and throw around X'lar, if he doesn't move away. "Congratulations!"

"/Oh/!" T'mic's groan joins in with the others who didn't bet on the Rocky Holds entry and lost. "Didn't need that half-mark anyway," he adds to Milani, his sidelong grin turned wry. "I'll hear about it from Aath for a few days. Fun though, huh?" A flying elbow from another exuberant (and successful) bettor catches him in the ribs, nearly sending the rest of his plate flying, and Mic catches up Millie's elbow again. "I'm losing my food, sweet. I'm going to get something else, a'right?"

"Is second any good, at all?" Milani asks curiously as the race concludes. X'lar's yelling draws her attention and she ducks her head briefly, brim of hat hiding her face. "I guess Xie won though," and she reaches out a retaining hand for that plate. "Sure, take mine with you? It's empty." And she makes to pass on the dirty dish to the greenrider. As he steps away she threads through the crowd towards X'lar. "Congratulations!"

Rowdy Rocks Crown comes into the winners circle, his rider looking incredibly smug as is everyone from Rocky Hold. There's a final round of cheers as they're presented with a garland of tropical flowers and the purse of their winnings and then the crowd starts to wonder about their own. Slowly the line at the betting table starts to fill up and those who aren't too eager to have their hands on their marks filter toward the feast tables to enjoy the Weyr's food and drink.

X'lar laughs again aloud, seemingly impressed with the race overall. And then that blonde goldrider's throwing her arms up and throwing them around X'lar. The bronzer doesn't seem to mind. Bread be darned, he got a hug from a goldrider too! Xie'll even hug the Fortian woman back if she doesn't move away from him. As Rowdy Rocks Crown arrives in the winner's circle, the former weyrling laughs once more and beams at the rider, fully knowing that smugness. And then to Suvain, he asks: "That reminds me, I haven't even introduced myself, have I?" There's another grin for the Fortian and then he offers, "I'm X'lar, rider of bronze Malsaeth. And winner, too, yes." At seeing Milani, X'lar grins wide and tells her: "Thanks! That was -amazing-!"

"Suvain," if X'lar didn't catch it before, "Gold Siarith's rider from Fort." One last squeeze is given for the big winner, after which Suvain steps back as others come to congratulate the winner. To Griere and A'son, the blonde dimples a big smile. "That /was/ exciting. Is life like this a lot here?"

Mock-sadly, Mic tells her, "'Fraid not," and scants his eyes over toward the hollering bronzerider. "How can you tell?" he asks, wide-eyed, then laughs and takes her place. "Sure. Have fun." He wanders back toward the food, though his path is a meandering one as he stops every few feet to talk to someone else.

"Everyday, we're always hosting parties and events. And races, apparently. Yes, Ista is a land of joy and festivities." A'son responds to Suvain's question, moving just out of reach of Griere after he says that piece. Clearing his throat, "But really, we like to have a good time. I think it's possible we might make this race thing more permanent? It did seem to have quite a good turnout. X'lar is certainly pleased with it." He looks at the Weyrwoman questioningly.

Tegara walks to the northwest bowl.
Tegara has left.

Viviana walks over from the northwest bowl.
Viviana has arrived.

Milani makes a little face as T'mic explains about the betting just before she moves off and there's a laugh over her shoulder at those wide eyes. "Very exciting," she agrees as she draws abreast of X'lar and Suvain. "Didn't you Impress at Fort's last?" she inquires of the Fortian goldrider and holds out a hand. "Milani, P'draig's younger sister, from the Reaches," she introduces herself once the hugging is over. "Good betting Xie. That'll be a nice pocketful of marks hm?" She tips her hat slightly towards A'son and Griere. "Reaches' duties to Ista and her queens, sir, ma'am." Polite as can be.

X'lar gives the Fortian woman another grin, telling her, "A pleasure to meet you, Suvain." He grins briefly and tells Suvain, even if she has asked the leaders of the weyr: "Always. Ista is one big island of fun." He soon turns about to face Millie, grinning at her once more. "You look absolutely amazing, Millie," X'lar tells the assistant headwoman emphaticaly. "I just about fainted when I saw you." He glances to A'son and grins wider, telling the Weyrleader: "You know it sir. Not very often I win, you know." And then back to Millie, Xie tells her: "I kept telling people, never bet against youth. They didn't believe me. Shows what they know, eh?" He grins once more, fiercely.

Griere is left blinking as Suvain goes throwing herself on the big winner, but her smile for all the race's excitement makes it a pleasantly surprised blinking instead of her usual disdainful one. "It was, actually. I didn't realize how fun it would be. Perhaps betting makes all the difference," Griere says to A'son and Suvain, though her glance slips to the winner again. "And X'lar seems very happy with our marks, doesn't he." But at A'son's suggestion that this happen more frequently, she doesn't look so certain. Instead, a hand goes to her stomach and she takes a big breath. "Shall we eat then?"

Viviana makes her way down the path, stopping before she makes it to the actual plateau to do a final inspection of her dress. A final smoothing of fabric, then a pat to her hair and the Greenrider is set. Standing on her tiptoes, she tries to see through the crowd, frowning with frustration. Overhearing X'lar, the young rider heads in his general direction, spotting Milani as well. "Hello there!"

To Griere; "I think so too, ma'am. When you have something on the line, it always makes things more exciting." Then Suvain laughs again, her eyes crinkling. Blonde curls throw backwards and her shoulders fly upward in delight making. "Such teases. /Both/ of you. If Ista were like this all the time, why, I don't see why anyone would live anywhere else." Big-eyed emphasis includes A'son and X'lar in that accusation. She hasn't quite stop laughing when Milani introduces herself, but that just means the other girl is regaled with a light thrown in her eyes. "Oh! The pleasure's mine in meeting you. P'draig was our weyrlingmaster. I mean, Siarith's and mine."

A'son gives another cast around the crowds before offering Griere his arm again. "So yeah, lets go and get some more food. Food is good. I like to eat. X'lar likes to eat. Maybe he could pick up some more girl's on the serving line." He winks playfully at the younger bronzerider before moving in the direction of the food. "Oh, hello, Milani? Coming to eat too?" He asks, a quick look going to her and then her companion, T'mic as he walks away to join the crowds. "Wait, is that that... assistant weyrlingmaster? T'mic?"

T'mic walks to the north beach.
T'mic has left.

Though Griere was formerly wearing a rather honest grin, at Milani's approach it schools back to that smooth hostess smile. "Ista's duties," she offers politely. "Did you have any luck on the race?" But it's followed quickly with that expectant look toward A'son in regards to the food as she slips her arm in his again. What a gentleman.

"Hi Vivy!" Milani says gaily looking very pleased to see the Reachian greenrider. "Well met, Suvain," Milani replies to the Fortian with a nod. "Of course. Hopefully he didn't make you work too hard," the assistant headwoman teases a little then looks up at A'son's query and shakes her head. "No thank you, I already had a plate, though I might sneak back up for another drink, later." Her head shakes once more in answer to Griere's question. "No ma'am, T'mic bet on the gray and I didn't bet at all. I need to save up if there's going to be more races!" A warm grin follows. "This was very nicely set up."

X'lar looks back to A'son and grumbles at the Weyrleader, telling A'son: "I ain't that type of man." The former weyrling blinks as he notes Viviana, offering her a simple nod of acknowledgement, telling her: "Welcome back to Ista, Viviana." X'lar looks to the food table again, saying, "Food does sound awfully good." He offers an arm to Suvain, giving the Fortian woman another smile, asking her: "Shall we go see the spread of food?"

"Ah, well. I'll catch you later when you go to get a drink or more food. Unfortunately I think I could eat everything that's up there right now." A'son says to Milani before moving away, self-amused grin on his face. Linked to Griere again, he moves away, leading them through the mingling crowds and towards the serving tables. "So, you need a plate." He decides once they arrive at the food, picking up a plate with his free hand and passing it over to her. Once that's done he's able to get his own. If X'lar is still nearby, or getting closer, he'll call back over to him. "So, kid. What do you plan on doing with all your money? Save it or spend it?"

Viviana smiles charmingly as she skirts past a tall Istan. She's hard pressed to charm a old auntie but manages to squeeze past her girth to finally arrive near Milani, giving the Fortian a pleasant if not appraising nod, looking the young rider's attire over with a critic's eye. Approving, she smiles fully, looking up, way up at Suvain. "Reaches duties.." Her nod is just as pleasant to X'lar but she moves closer to Milani. "I was hoping to meet up with you, I'm glad you are still here."

The changes in Griere's demeanor doesn't go lost on the Fortian teenager, a sudden look following after the Weyrleaders as they go towards food. Then there's X'lar distracting her. "Mmmmm," Suvain takes her time to decide but shakes her head. Her hand falls onto X'lar's offered arm and she tiptoes up to try and brush her lips against the strange bronzerider's cheek charmingly, even as she's about to deny him. "I don't think so. I'm about to fall apart in the heat, X'lar. But congratulations again, and you've been the most wonderful host." She turns to try and find A'son and Griere, to say her own goodbyes, but fails and so turns her warm smile and blue sisal hat concoction on Viviana and Milani. "Suvain and Fort's duties, I'm sorry our meeting was so brief. Hopefully some other time? Yes?"

Griere has a wave for Suvain as the foreign goldrider moves to depart. "It was lovely of you to join us," she offers, at she might even sound somewhat sincere about it. But A'son is directing her attention to the food and she is eager to be prompted so. "Yes, a plate please," she replies, letting his arm go so that he might collect her a meal more easily. "Just the fruit, please. No meat." She leans to the side, better to see around A'son toward X'lar, "Surely there's enough to save some and spend some."

"Most likely," Milani replies cheerily to A'son, with a sunny smile to follow after then she's refocusing on the youth around her. "Oh no problem, Suvain. I'm sure we'll bump into each other again. If you're heading back to Fort, clear skies and enjoy the cooler weather," she quips mildly. There's a little wave for X'lar as he apparently moves on towards the food and she subtly drops into 'step' with Viviana. "Really? Well, there you go, we've got luck tonight Vivy, even if we didn't bet." She starts to move her arm to slip companionably into her friend's. "Food, drink or other merriment?" she asks the Reachian greenrider with a winning grin.

"Don't have anything or anyone to spend it on, so I think I'll save it," X'lar tells A'son, hearing the question of the Weyrleader. "Though, I might give some of the marks back to Ista Weyr itself if it's possible, sir," Xie tells A'son. He pauses and nods back to Vivy again. And then there's that Fortian teenager brushing her lips against his cheek, making him look both surprised and elated at the same time. If that's even possible. "Thank you," Xie can only say, dazed. But then his concentration resumes and X'lar smiles once more to the Fortian teen, telling her: "Maybe we'll meet each other again then, Suvain. It was certainly a pleasure to have met you at the race today."

Viviana allows her arm to be taken but speaks quietly and earnestly. She mutters to Milani, "I am... the... few things on my... need to... so rude... Do... me?"

"Maybe!" calls Suvain to both Milani and X'lar's suggestions of future running intos. "And thank you, again, ma'am." Though there wasn't a first thanks, the younger goldrider waves cheerfully at Griere and A'son near the buffet tables. "Ahhh." Once free of the crowds, her long arms stretch wide and she smiles up at the sun before going off in search of her dragon parked amongst many others. Heard, voice getting quieter the further Suvain walks away, "It's a good day today, yes, Sia? We'll get that half mark back some time, I'm sure."

Suvain walks to the northwest bowl.
Suvain has left.

A'son hears Griere's farewells to the Fortian goldrider and blinks, turning around to look in what he thinks is her direction. It might not be. He can't see her, but he tries to wave at her anyway. "Bye, nice meeting you!" He calls to the woman who might not even be over there. He turns back to Griere and gives her a hopeful look. Was that good? He seems to be asking. But regardless he sets to the task of putting things onto her plate. "Fruit, no meat. Oh, redfruit? Orange? There's some of this green ones..." He points them out to her, taking some of this. Some of that. "Vegetables? It's good for you. You should eat something substantial." He hears X'lar's answer and stops, looking back at him again. "I don't know if you need to give it back to the Weyr. I'm not sure how you would... Uh, Griere has the answers to that."

Viviana looks over just as the Fortian lands the kiss on X'lar's cheek and she can't help but tease the Istan rider. "For someone who says he is not a ladies man you certainly don't have any trouble attracting them now, do you?" Her gaze scans the group, spotting the former Reaches rider, now Istan Weyrleader and she remarks to Milani. "He's holding up well. All things considered."

At that murmur from Vivy, Milani's arm shifts meaning to squeeze the greenrider around the waist gently. "I didn't even realize that I needed to!" she exclaims more audibly but quite cryptically. There's a final wave offered in Suvain's direction and then her gaze slips after A'son a warm smile slipping onto her face. "Very well. I think it was really just a matter of time for him to get his bearings you know? I mean after all if you're used to a nice dry 'Reaches summer, the weather down here would just about addle any Reachian's brains I think." Blithe in that assessment. She grins too at Xie's reaction to that smooch of Suvain's looking oddly pleased about it.

"Give the marks back? They didn't come from the Weyr, they came from the bettors. But if you want to..." Griere has a brow raised to X'lar as she waits for A'son to finish her plate. But he's badgering her about her meal choice and she frowns slightly. Then gives in. "Fine, vegetables. The fresh ones, please. Maybe a piece of bread. Just a small plate, though. Think... a quarter of what you might get for yourself. On a day when you aren't particulalry hungry." There, how's that for direction. And meanwhile, she'll sneak a glance toward Milani again.

X'lar growls under his breath at hearing the Reachian greenrider's words, saying, "You know, it's not like I scheme for those types of things to happen, Viviana. I'm simply X'lar, eater of bread and pudding, rider of bronze Malsaeth. And winner of a LOT of marks." There's a grin again, back to Millie, telling her: "I really don't thank you enough, Milani." He even winks at the Reachian woman and soon he rights himself and walks toward the food. And Griere. "Not all of them," Xie tells the Istan Senior. "Does the Weyr need the marks?" He pauses and asks, "Did you say bread?" And soon Xie's at the table, grabbing a plate. And a whole lot of food. Thankfully the bronzerider doesn't pocket any of the food, just piles it on his plate instead.

A'son's face looks a little concerned when X'lar asks if Ista needs any marks. "No, no. I don't think Ista is lacking in the marks department. I think we're paying everyone their share on a regular basis. All is good. You keep those for yourself, invest. Or something. Whatever people with money do." That's as good a response as he's able to produce while doing Griere's plate. When it's finished she's got fruit, some vegetables and a small piece of bread. It might be just a little bit more than she wanted, but he tried to keep it down. "Ah, there. Good?"

Viviana shakes her head earnestly. "Oh you did. I was horrid to you. But now I'm here. And the races are over?" Resuming a normal conversational tone, she moves a couple feet away. "Oh, did I say that, X'lar?" She smiles charmingly. "No, no. You've a natural gift; a rare one. Girls are drawn to you like wild firelizards are to a fingertail run. Oh and you also attract marks? I gather you did well at the races?" She elbows Milani softly. "Don't look now but the Weyrwoman is looking your way."

Milani lifts a hand to cover her mouth at Vivy's remark to X'lar. But then her head lifts again and she just smiles at Viviana again. "I've been worse sometimes, really, it's okay Vivy. We're still friends." And she aims to give the greenrider another light squeeze before her head tilts subtly to mark Griere's regard without actually /looking/ at the Weyrwoman. "Is she? Huh. Is my hat crooked?" And both hands lift to test out the angle of that hat. X'lar's thanks earn a quirky look and then she's laughing again. "Oh what the heck, I could use some /dessert/."

"Yes, thank you," Griere replies, flashing a smile to A'son. The smile stops abruptly, though and she makes an odd face, but then she's attending her plate, aiming first for a piece of melon. "If you're eager to give the marks to the Weyr, I'm sure we can find something for you to spend it on, but we're not in any particular need, no. The feast is really all we've supplied for this..." she gestures around with the melon. "...Evening."

X'lar rolls his eyes as he listens to Viviana, telling her: "Girls are -so- not drawn to me. I might be drawn to them, but I ain't drawing women to me." The bronzerider pauses and smirks again, adding, "I don't attract marks either. Just bet on youth. Figured with a girl as young as she was, riding that runner... Well, I know what she must feel like, racing in amongst the older generations like that." After a moment of thought, Xie also adds: "Besides, it sounded from the reports I read that she was a fighter through and through." Then finally, he concludes: "Always bet on youth." He lifts his chin slightly defensively at that. He looks once more to Griere and smiles warmly at the goldrider, telling her: "If you can think of anything, ma'am, please let me know." To Milani, X'lar grins and tells her: "No pudding here, too hot, I think." He pauses and then looks back to the table: "Pies and cakes though. Hmmm. Lemon meringue."

A'son looks nervously at Griere and then X'lar, apparently having expected something scarier for their conversation of money and who's going to get it. But when no one dies and no remarks are slung, he seems to relax and goes to the task of filling his own plate. The bronzerider wants meat, bread, fruit, cookies, a piece of pie, some vegetables, some sort of sandwich looking thing and a few odd ends and bits that fit onto his plate. "Mmm. Food." And now he stands around, happily shoving food into his mouth for several minutes before he takes a breather from that activity. "I think this went well." He says in aside to Griere. "How're you holding up? It's hot out here."

Griere misses the glance she gets from Viviana and Milani, but that doesn't mean she doesn't feel their eyes and so her own eyes flick back to them for a quick regard. And then to X'lar; "That's a very generous offer. I'll give you some time to think on it, but I will look into what options there might be, should you really want to go that route." But there's a odd smile pulling at her lips and she sets her fork to her plate to free a hand and tug A'son toward her, pushing up to her toes to murmur something to him.

Viviana hisses back to the assistant Headwoman. "At least you are wearing a hat. I had no idea we were supposed to and my flight helmet would look dreadful with this dress. Your hat is perfectly charming at that angle and I can't imagine anyone finding fault.." She brushes X'lar's explanations off with a wave of her hand. "You are always so quick to refuse a heart-felt compliment, it's enough to make a girl want to quit trying after a while." She peers over at the table and asks. "Any citron water or ices? I couldn't eat anything heavy like cake."

"Oh thank you! I had it done up to match the dress. I mean really it's just a big old sunhat, but the ribbon makes it work, I think." Milani drops into girlish 'clothes mode' and grins at Vivy, though her voice is likewise kept low. The byplay between X'lar and Vivana earns another quirky look. "Shells, poke, poke, poke, you two. Come now, peace over pie?" she suggests and peruses the offerings, leans to point out a meringue pie. "Citron pie, Vivy?" Seconding X'lar's suggestion. "It's pretty light."

X'lar nods once more to Griere, earnest in his acceptance of Griere's remark. That's all she gets as X'lar's attention once again returns to Vivy. "Having women drawn to me?" Xie asks her. "That's a compliment?" X'lar shrugs briefly and goes on to admit, "I'd be happy with just the one." His eyes glance toward Milani and then to A'son. And then dessert. "I like pie," X'lar admits. Not that anyone couldn't predict that one. He slices into the pie, once, then twice, then three times, taking one slice off, putting it on a plate, giving it to Milani, and then the next to Vivy, and then the last piece for himself. At which point he happily begins digging in, shovelling the tangy-sweet dessert in his mouth quickly.

A'son returns to shoveling food into his mouth pretty soon after talking, keeping watchful eyes on the bronzerider and the woman next to him. "Yes, this pie is excellent, X'lar. Are you having some? I recommand it." Then Griere is tugging on him and whispering something. His eyes widen perceptively and he whispers something back, looking expectantly down at her. Touches of excitement find their way onto his face as he speaks with her quietly.

Viviana takes her pie with a grateful smile but offers it to a young lad beside her with an apology to X'lar at her refusal. "Ashmyth is needing me, I'll be back in a wee bit, I promise." She half runs down the path to her lifemate, eager to return.

Viviana walks to the northwest bowl.
Viviana has left.

Aidra walks over from the northwest bowl.
Aidra has arrived.

Milani takes up the plate X'lar prepared for her and blinks at Viviana's swift passing on of the sweet and then the running away. She watches the greenrider go, face thoughtful for a moment, then she takes a forkful of the pie. "Now this, is very tasty!" she exclaims happily and has another bite. That exchange between Weyrleader and Weyrwoman makes her brows lift a little and her head tilts curiously to the side then she nods for Vivy's prior comment to Xie. "Of course it is. Means you're not shy and retiring. It's a token of confidence. Don't get all growly Xie?" That last lightly wheedling.

Whatever A'son whispers has Griere smiling, perhaps even about to laugh. "I think it's okay," she answers him. "I have no idea what else to call it myself. I should try to find V'lano." There's something somewhat shy about the grin she wears, or rather the way she tries to control it more that it will allow. "Stay. Visit with your friend," she says with a tip of her head toward Milani. And she turns toward the visiting headwoman and X'lar. "It was nice to put a face to the name," she says to the former and, "Congratulations," to the latter. And then she's heading off into the crowd on her own.

X'lar looks from Viviana to Griere and A'son's apparent hubbub.. And then Vivy gives her slice of pie to someone else, the bronzer watching it go reluctantly. There's even a sigh there, too. He shrugs once, with the mourning apparently done, he goes back to his own slice of pie, his eyes looking back to Milani again, grinning at her. "I thought you liked it when I growled," X'lar tells Milani, showing that bit of confidence. "But no," X'lar finally comments to the Reaches woman. "I'm certainly not shy and retiring. Don't think I could ever be that." To Griere, X'lar bows his head once more to the woman. "Thank you, ma'am," he tells the weyrwoman. "G'day."

Milani has a bite of pie in her mouth when Griere addresses her and she swallows hastily. "Thank you, Weyrwoman, clear skies!" she hastily replies and then fills her mouth again so she can look busy chewing though she's watching the Istan goldrider with the faintest hint of perplexity. X'lar's remark earns him a sudden sidelong look and she clears her throat and leans in to whisper something quietly to him.

A'son smiles shyly himself and even laughs a little when Griere moves off. His expression is for a moment vulnerable when she leaves him to find V'lano, but he takes a breath and shakes his head. Whatever was there is in a moment gone and he's uprooting himself from the spot. It's by X'lar and Milani that he finds himself, elbowing the girl gently in the ribs. "Nothing wrong with being shy and retiring. Makes you a man of mystery, attracts all the girls. But from what I hear you're doing a good job of it all on your own."

Aidra emerges from the crowd, a plate in one hand holding a slice of pie and a folk in the other. There's a fair bit of bumping and 'excuse me's' before she finds herself somewhere close to Milani, A'son, and X'lar. "Hey guys, mind if I join?" For once, strangely, her blue is elsewhere, actually leaving her alone for the time being.