In which baskets are woven (Nolee learns a news skill!) and Marsath has a literal fan
NW Bowl 10-18-05
Nolee, Cynara
This evening finds various people scattering about chores, and others enjoying a bit of a respite after the evening meal. Nolee sits amid a pile of rushes, her legs folded, the rushes curling over her legs where she attempts to wind them. "I remember it starts something like this. One over the other," the rushes flip about and flop in her hands. "No, not like that." A hopeless sigh as one slaps her in the face, and she startles, looking up. "Ow."
Cynara wanders over. Well, there's also a blue dragon, but Marsath flops in a comfortable spot as his rider approaches gold and gold-ling. "You having problems there?" Basket-making. Cyna's talent, and something she isn't going to give up, rider or no.
Nolee rubs her eye where the rush poked her lightly, and squints upward at Cynara. "Hullo there!" Nalaieth rumbles a soft greeting to Marsath, and scoots her large self over across the mud to be closer to him, inquisitive. "I'd say I'm having problems. I remember watching oh! It was you. I watched you show Ferry? I forget her name for sure, but the girl who drew things, how to start one of these." The rushes are held out. "Which part goes where first?"
Cynara moves to show her. "It goes like this..." She smiles a bit. "When you're a regular weyr kid, having some kind of skill helps avoid the horrible chores. I worked that out /very/ quickly on moving to Igen." And basketmaking is too simple to bother Weavers with, unless you're after something very complex.
Nolee rearranges the base pieces as directed. "I think I've got plenty here, if you want to start one, too? Then I could see how it's supposed to look." She peers at the beginning of the tangle as it comes into order: "That's a good idea. I couldn't do much, so I gathered seaweed for pop, and tended the fires. Though if I could figure this out, it might be useful for lotions and keeping my oilpot off the floor. Where does this end go? How does it stay down?"
Cynara reaches for some of the supplies, and, taking it slowly so Nolee can see what she's doing, moves through the first steps. "Well, the bad chores at a Weyr...are the stuff they have Candidates doing. Including the stuff that's /punishment/ duty."
Nolee tries to focus on the way the pieces are interacting, and how they start their weaving together so the basket doesn't collapse. "You showed Ferry how to make two kinds of bottom, if I remember right? Which kind are we making?" Her fingers follow Cynara's lead while Nalaieth stretches her limbs one at a time. "They do get Candidates to agree, maybe before they know what they're in for. Like M'yr. He was sure surprised that he had to listen and not argue. Though that's easier for some people than others."
Cynara nods. "I'm not surprised he Impressed bronze. He's got initiative, once it's tempered by discipline...he'll be a good leader." She smiles. "You wanted something for your oilpot, so I'm making the flatter kind of bottom. And I didn't know the first time. This time, of course..."
Nolee listens to Cynara, laughing a little at her wording. "I hadn't thought of him in those words. Or those ideas. You sound like an assistant weyrlingmaster, talking when they think we're not listening." That tease done, she concentrates closely on the shape of the bottom. "Flat bottom." She untangles a few of the rushes, "Thanks. I appreciate your help. Jays, this could almost be called work, if it wasn't for a selfish reason. I don't know if I'd have said yes to Standing if I knew how hard it'd be, before and now, what with all the running and chores. Not that I don't care for Nala, of course."
Cynara laughs. "Don't say that too loudly, or in a few turns they might decide to turn me /into/ one." A pause. "I do think they could warn people a little more, but you did know you could have stepped down at any point, right? Nobody's forced onto the Sands...a dragon wouldn't pick somebody who hated the idea anyway."
Nolee hushes her voice, whispering, "Would that be so bad? You might be good at it. And Marsath, he's got enough energy to keep up with young dragons." The girl crosses rushes with rushes, tangling them together in an effort to follow Cynara's lead. "How do they fit properly?" She holds out the basket-start for further directions. "I do remember Lirit telling Naemyr that, but she sounded awfully angry. And my parents would've been upset, for me not 'doing my duty' or at least getting them the possibility of good things--I shouldn't say that out loud, though. But I must not have hated it. Or you either."
Cynara shakes her head. "/I/ decided it was worth it for the chance of earning myself a dragon...of course, you don't really earn it, but...I felt that way." She glances at Marsath. Lots of energy? Blue lug's asleep. All three lids firmly closed.
Nolee turns her face in the direction of Cynara's look, smiling at the sleeping Marsath, and at Nalaieth fanning Marsath with her wide wings. "She looks like she's taking care of him. Did it seem like that, like having done it twice, your turn was coming, your lifemate was bound to be out there? Maybe you were meant to be here all the time."
Cynara hrms. "Sort of. I felt that as I'd been Searched twice, clearly I was intended to be a candidate." She turns towards the dragons and giggles a bit. "She looks silly...and that my lifemate was out there somewhere. Although I was thinking I was about to be left on the Sands again. I Impressed /last/."
Nolee nods, watching the snoozing blue be fanned by his attentive clutchmate. "She does," Nolee agrees. "But she is, what do you call it? Protective." Nolee folds a few of the rushes around each other, melding them upward and weaving them together. "He must've been waiting to hatch for you. Or waiting to be sure he'd found the right one. Is this the right idea? It doesn't look tight enough."
Cynara hrms. "It's not quite tight enough, pull it inwards a little." A pause. "Nah, I think it's pure chance what order they come out in...it doesn't seem to gel with the clutching order, color doesn't seem to affect it, so..."
Nolee tries to undo part of the basket's lower layers where she's gotten started, "This way?" she tugs the pieces in tighter. "You'd think the ones that have been out of the mum the longest would hatch out first. Like they'd be the hardest ones, so they'd break up earliest. But I didn't notice how they came out--did you? I mean, I was there, but I was talking to Iaril, and Drek, about a place in the jungle the kids hide at."
Cynara shakes her head. "More like this...it's easier." She tightens it up. "I was writing them down so I could guess what color was in each as they arrived, so...yeah, not the same order. But they all hatch so close together anyway..."
Nolee observes, then looks at her own hands, which are not responding favorably to the sharp edges of the rushes. "Oh, that does seem to help. The basket looks more like a basket and less like Nalaieth's bedding." The dragonet leaves off fanning Marsath to stretch out. "You wrote them down? I wasn't keeping track. "Wonder if people placed bets on the eggs? I heard that happens sometimes at clutchings, or hatchings. And didn't someone bet on you Impressing?"
Cynara nods. "A couple of people did, I was flattered...and people /always/ bet on the eggs, it's a normal thing. Will there be a gold. How many bronzes...people will bet on anything, Nolee." She yawns. "I'm going to head to my cot, I think."
Nolee laughs, winding up the next part of the basket. "They do? I thought just pop, when he was in his cups, bet on things like that. Thanks for your help--I think I've got most of it except for how to finish the end part." Nala nudges at Marsath, as if to tell him rider's decided it's bedtime.