Moving the goal posts
It is a spring afternoon, 14:11 of day 11, month 5, turn 20 of Interval 10.
Commons Cavern, Fort Weyr
While not nearly as large as the living cavern, the commons do serve something of a similar purpose as a gathering point for residents. There are a few scattered tables and chairs, with a section of counter carved from the native granite for general use. The typically cool floors are covered with a handful of rugs, while tapestries serve to blunt the chill emanating from the walls. Lighting is provided through glow baskets for the most part, although some individuals might bring in a lantern if they think to.
It's a fair bit quieter than the living cavern and is designed more as a location for residents to meet and work on whatever work needs to be done -- mending, cleaning, and tending to children are only a small sampling of the things that can be seen going on here. It's most active later in the day, after the bulk of the work is done and people start to settle in for the night, but it's never empty of people.
It also serves as a hub for a variety of useful caverns -- the nursery is located across from the residents' dorms, with the bathing cavern situated between the two. The candidates barracks are somewhat off to the side, closest to the tunnel that leads back out to the inner caverns.
Obvious exits:
Inner Caverns Workroom Resident Dormitories Candidate Barracks Nursery
The weather might have been very pleasant early this morning, but now the skies have decided that they're not going to be particularly co-operative with their warnings about sudden showers. Most people seem to have managed to avoid the most recent downpour, Hattie amongst them, who sits close to one of the hearths in a rather battered-looking comfy chair. With one book balanced open on the left arm of the chair, she writes in another held awkwardly between the chair's right arm and her knees, her legs tucked up away from the floor. There's a quick, murmured conversation with a young woman who stops beside her, then it's right back to those books.
With a preoccupied frown B'kaiv makes his way into the commons, the bulk of his attention on a scrap of something in one hand. Though his hair is wet the rest of him is dry, suggesting a bath rather than a sudden shower. It's the sudden dart of a pair of children across his path that brings him up short, and an absent scowl causes his eyes to light on Hattie. She must be as good of a location as any, for the greenrider makes his way across to the hearths and drops onto the edge of an empty chair, slip stuffed into a pocket before hands dangle between his knees. "Hey Hattie. Elaruth good?"
Not until she's finished writing whatever sentence recently begun does Hattie look up, or so it seems, for her gaze focuses on the greenrider's pocket before her eyes lift to rest on B'kaiv properly. "B'kaiv," she greets. She glances across to the balancing book as though to make sure it's not going to make an escape, then continues, "She's well, thanks. The rain's not going on for a long enough spell for her liking. Stops her mapping the Bowl properly when it stops so suddenly." Her pen gets set down to settle along the spine of her book, between pages. "Chielyth?"
B'kaiv echoes, confused, "Mapping th' bowl?" and glances to where the bowl would be, were rock walls not in the way. He turns back with a, "She's good. Real good. Playing with Saulienth an' Arwith in th' lake. Elaruth's invited too." Just in case either Hattie or her dragon were waiting with bated breath. "How you been? You reading that f'r work?" With a nod to her balancing book.
"She likes listening to the rain, where it falls, and using that to put together a picture of the Bowl. Or wherever she is. At least those senses are doing her some good now," Hattie attempts to explain, peering Bowl-wards herself like she can see through rock. Which she, of course, can't, and so that is abandoned pretty quick. "Thanks, I'll let her know, if she doesn't already. I'm... alright. Reading for work, yes. Comparing one turn with another. Interesting to sit here and maybe catch things otherwise missed, too. You? How's being in a Wing? Well, new Wing."
"...Huh," Kai grunts, with just enough of a pause that it's debatable if that makes any sense to him. Probably not. "She... ain't never looked at it?" But that can't be right either. After another moment he shoves farther back in his chair and dries off his palms on his knees. "Good. --Mean, it's lots like being a weyrling, y'know? We drill a lot. Mean, a /lot/. I were up t' the Reaches th' other day, an' their Headwoman were saying as they got a wing as only drills once a month. What about you an' th' Weyrwoman? You do any drilling?"
Hattie doesn't really smile, it's more of a smirk that lacks most of the sharp edges such an expression might usually carry. "Yes, she's looked at it. A lot," she confirms. Now it's her turn to be baffled and she frowns. "Only once a month? That's a bit... well, that's either overconfident or lazy, don't you think? Neither better than the other, really." She bites down on her lip and shakes her head; must decide to let that go before the inevitable dwelling begins. "We do. It's not like the rest of the Wings, though." Some regret for that, perhaps. "We don't have the same people for long, so it's... it's just different."
B'kaiv tries screwing up his face and squinting at Hattie, just in case that makes Elaruth's foibles make more sense. That probably also doesn't help. "So how come...?" he starts, and shakes his head to throw off the very idea. "Yeah - I dunno. Ain't saying as it's /right/, just that's what she told me. Wouldn't mind not drilling six days out of th' seven, myself, but I dunno about once a month. Anyway, I ain't no wingleader, so I don't got no say in it." As for the queen's wing, "Huh. Yeah, guess not. Could get you training t' do search an' rescue, maybe. S'good for everybody t' know."
The weyrwoman waves one hand and dismisses the concept herself. "It's alright. She does what she does. She has her reasons." Hattie shrugs. "I guess that's where we're different. I'd like the six days out of seven. I'm not saying I'm not busy otherwise, but shuffling out to drill once a month would drive me nuts. It'd feel like never getting anywhere, I imagine." She retrieves her pen from between the pages of the book and sets it down the armrest, closing the book straight after. "Any training is good. What would you do, you and Chielyth, if you had the choice? In drills or training-wise."
Kai's right hand pats his knee in a short, arrhythmic series while the man himself considers his clutchmate. "Ain't like we got t' go nowhere, just keep th' skills fresh for the next... hundred an' eighty turns." His hand stills at the question, and he takes a few seconds to actually consider, hazel eyes drifting past her shoulder. "Search an' rescue. An' acrobatics. She can turn on a mark an' give you change - you seen her. Wouldn't mind doin' some traveling, neither. Down South, maybe. Or up in th' Northern Range. Go out for a couple sevens, see what there's t' see."
"It's a chain," Hattie remarks. "That's how I see it. Even if we never use some skills for real, we need to know so others know. So nothing gets lost in between." Her eyes narrow a little and she admits, "And I can't decide if that's a bad pun or not." Either way, she carries on to say, "Yeah, she's certainly something in the air, Chielyth. She'd probably be good up in the north, all those mountains and peaks and valleys to traverse. Get through sharper spaces, sharper corners."
"Know what you mean," Kai nods to the pun, without a flicker of amusement. "Gotta make sure we know what we're doing so we can teach th' ones as come after, an' they can teach th' ones as come after them until Thread's come again. S'just there's got t' be something in between once a month an' twenty-four times. -How 'bout you? What'd you an' Elaruth do, if you could do anything? I can see her exploring too, going t' all them places ain't nobody live."
That answer is easy, given the speed with which Hattie responds. "Fly," she states simply. "Just... fly and fly and fly. If the choice was entirely hers and I wouldn't argue to be honest. Explore and find somewhere quiet and pretty where she wouldn't be disturbed for a while. Or just plain explore - she likes meeting new people and seeing new things, just not all in a rush and at once." She smiles ruefully. "But there's finding the time. Real time, not just an hour here and there."
"...Yeah," Kai agrees, a little ruefully. "Me an' Chielyth, we do that sometimes. Pick a direction we ain't gone yet, and just..." One hand arrows off, and up, to the limits of one arm. "S'nice. Gotta have at least a afternoon t' do it in, though." He considers the woman across from him again. "Weyrwoman keep you hopping? You could ask her, maybe - or just do it on your rest days. Could tell you some of th' places we been. Can't give you a visualization, or nothing..." Rueful, but with a little shrug: everyone knows what Chielyth's visualizations look like.
Hattie glances down at her closed book and shakes her head again. "It's not so much that, it's... There are things to be done. There's work. I've never really been one to know what to do with free time when I get it anyway. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous, but that's the way it is." Her eyes find the hearth and linger there for a little while, moving only a fraction with the leaping of the flames. "Free time is time, but it's... not. But I'm glad you two get to go anyway."
B'kaiv and Hattie are in a couple of the elderly (and thus, comfortable) chairs near the hearth, escaping the sporadic showers in the bowl. "You just said you wanted t' fly, though," Kai points out, confused. "There's always things t' get done. Always. It ain't gonna go away just 'cause you spent a afternoon doing them instead of doing something you want."
Lundan comes in with a light sheen of sweat and a bandana securing his hair froom his face. The young man is taking big deep breaths like he just finished some extensive exercise, but one that he is used to doing. Or it could be that he just got lightly frenched too. His first goal apppears to be a drink of liquid, for he heads in that direction.
Standing at around 5'6", Hattie is a slim young woman who manages to avoid looking outright thin by the fact that she has the soft features of a person used to wanting for nothing. Her dark skin is only fractionally lighter than her hair, which falls in unruly and often frizzy waves a few inches down her back. Deep brown eyes are set in an oval-shaped face with a rather undefined jaw and smooth cheekbones.
"People don't get what they want," Hattie replies, reaching to close the other book settled on that armrest. "'I want, doesn't get' as they say. Things don't change or happen because you want them to." Reasonably short statements that don't sound as clipped or forceful as they might, her voice held low. "And it won't go away, I know, which is why it's all got to be done. And doing something I want just isn't..." Isn't something and she just fall silent, gaze going to track the newcomer across the room.
Lundan has found his drink in the form of a skin filled with something when he reappears. As he does he is taking a long drink from it, as one who is parched. When he is done it is corked and her wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. "Hello!" He says cheerfully to Hattie and B'kaiv. "Enjoying the weather?" His tone is mildly sarcastic, but still cheerful.
This young man is perhaps in his mid-teens. He is tall and slim with a build more towards a runner than a miner. Short brown hair falls in a shag to his shoulders and he often is brushing bangs from his eyes. Those eyes, by the way, are a shocking icey blue in shade, but his demeanor is rarely anything like that. A wide mouth can often be seen smiling and there are dimples when he does. A small cleft in his chin is also notable.
Currently he wears a loose undershirt of cream color. Over this is a light blue vest of heavier material with lovely white couched embroidery. A pair of dark gray pants cover his lower half with ankle boots of the same color. All in all a pretty plain bit of attire, but it does bring out those eyes.
"Sure they do," Kai argues right back, with just as much heat. "I ain't never heard 'I want, doesn't get', but it sounds plenty wherry-brained. I want supper - that mean I ain't gonna get it? I'm only gonna get th' things I /don't/ want?" He pushes back into his chair to shake his head at her, bemused. "Honest, Hattie, th' things..." He trails off too, interrupted by Lundan. "--Hey," the greenrider offers after a moment. "It ain't bad. Better'n th' however long it were of nothin' but rain. Least it's starting t' show some sun these days."
"It means you should have the right priorities and be reasonable about obtaining what you-" Hattie begins to reply, then bites the rest of those words back and stares at the hearth some more before she can look back and manage any kind of response to Lundan. "It was nicer this morning. All sunshine. Now it's just irritating and can't make up its mind. Hope you're not out in it every time the rain hits," she says, all in the same tone, no variation between sentences.
Lundan chuckles and shrugs one shoulder as he says, "Oh I am, but it doesn't bother me. There are worse thing to fall out of the sky like hail. It actually cools me off when I'm running from her to the hold or wherever I'm going..." He trails off taking another long drink of from the skin about his shoulders.
B'kaiv considers the younger man for a few seconds like he's waiting for some shocking revelation - maybe about the weather? "'Least it ain't winter," he finally puts in. Back to Hattie, though, "That ain't th' same thing, though. You said as people don't get what they want. Nothing about priorities," he speaks the word like it's covered in brambles, "Or being reasonable. Maybe I ain't never gonna be Weyrleader, but that don't mean I got t' sit in my weyr instead of taking Chielyth flying."
Hattie blinks up at Lundan for a few moments, eyes narrowed like she thinks maybe she should know the answer to what she questions, "Where're you headed next?" But then there's Kai and she's still not snappy, only resigned or tired. "People don't get what they want all the time," she insists. "So you can either be a screaming child about it, or you can get on with what you have to do and get some of what you want along the way in return. I like work, I want to work. Anything else I want to do gets put on hold - I can't just run out and do it. It's not right."
Lundan listens to the conversation for a moment with a bit of a puzzled expression, but shrugs it off with a smile. Instead he replies to Hattie's question at a pause in the conversation, "I'm done for the day. I believe tomorrow I may have to run to Harper Hall, but nothing firm yet. Mostly I believe I'm at the disposal for anyone who needs a message run somewhere."
"'Course they don't," Kai snorts, like Hattie's very carefully explained that people cannot jump off the Star Stones and land at Harper Hall. "That ain't what you said, though." For a second - less - he looks as though he might argue further, but shrugs instead and leans back in his chair again. "Long way t' run," he points out. "You ever run th' other side of th' mountains?" He waves generally westward.
The goldrider sighs and opens her book again, reclaiming her pen. "Kai, I'm not telling you it's how you should live your life. It's just how I am. It doesn't affect you - unless you secretly lie awake at night worrying about it - it doesn't really affect anyone, so how about we just let me go on thinking what I want?" It's like Hattie might be checking the book as she addresses Lundan, but surely such information can't be so conveniently at hand. "I'm not aware of anything pressing that needs to be sent anywhere, but that might well alter by the morning."
Lundan bobs his head to Hattie and says, "Hey, like I said I go where I'm needed. If I'm not I laze about and tell ladies how lovely they are," Here he sneaks in a wink, "Just to see how red they blush of course." Was that a quiet chuckle from the young man? "And hey, it's your mind you should be able to think whatever you want. An opinion is just that, yours." He didn't really need to add his two marks to the conversation, but he did.
B'kaiv huffs out his breath, rocks forward in his chair and up, running one hand through his now-dry hair. "Shells, Hattie, stop changing what you're talking about. This ain't never been about what I do or don't do. Just... shells. Never mind." A brusque hand chops off his own words, and he turns a sour look on the younger boy. "She don't need /you/ telling her that, or smarming up t' her like it'll get you something." Back to Hattie. "I'm gonna go. You wanna come flying with me an' Chielyth, all you got t' do is say so." They're dropped each a nod in turn, and then the burly greenrider's heading off toward one of the residential tunnels, not looking back.
If you're gonna say something like that, better be willing to finish it, not keep saying that ain't what you meant. If it ain't what she meant, she shouldn'ta said it. Sounds like that boy's been listening to W'ton, too. We don't need another one of them around.
Commons Cavern, Fort Weyr
While not nearly as large as the living cavern, the commons do serve something of a similar purpose as a gathering point for residents. There are a few scattered tables and chairs, with a section of counter carved from the native granite for general use. The typically cool floors are covered with a handful of rugs, while tapestries serve to blunt the chill emanating from the walls. Lighting is provided through glow baskets for the most part, although some individuals might bring in a lantern if they think to.
It's a fair bit quieter than the living cavern and is designed more as a location for residents to meet and work on whatever work needs to be done -- mending, cleaning, and tending to children are only a small sampling of the things that can be seen going on here. It's most active later in the day, after the bulk of the work is done and people start to settle in for the night, but it's never empty of people.
It also serves as a hub for a variety of useful caverns -- the nursery is located across from the residents' dorms, with the bathing cavern situated between the two. The candidates barracks are somewhat off to the side, closest to the tunnel that leads back out to the inner caverns.
Obvious exits:
Inner Caverns Workroom Resident Dormitories Candidate Barracks Nursery
The weather might have been very pleasant early this morning, but now the skies have decided that they're not going to be particularly co-operative with their warnings about sudden showers. Most people seem to have managed to avoid the most recent downpour, Hattie amongst them, who sits close to one of the hearths in a rather battered-looking comfy chair. With one book balanced open on the left arm of the chair, she writes in another held awkwardly between the chair's right arm and her knees, her legs tucked up away from the floor. There's a quick, murmured conversation with a young woman who stops beside her, then it's right back to those books.
With a preoccupied frown B'kaiv makes his way into the commons, the bulk of his attention on a scrap of something in one hand. Though his hair is wet the rest of him is dry, suggesting a bath rather than a sudden shower. It's the sudden dart of a pair of children across his path that brings him up short, and an absent scowl causes his eyes to light on Hattie. She must be as good of a location as any, for the greenrider makes his way across to the hearths and drops onto the edge of an empty chair, slip stuffed into a pocket before hands dangle between his knees. "Hey Hattie. Elaruth good?"
Not until she's finished writing whatever sentence recently begun does Hattie look up, or so it seems, for her gaze focuses on the greenrider's pocket before her eyes lift to rest on B'kaiv properly. "B'kaiv," she greets. She glances across to the balancing book as though to make sure it's not going to make an escape, then continues, "She's well, thanks. The rain's not going on for a long enough spell for her liking. Stops her mapping the Bowl properly when it stops so suddenly." Her pen gets set down to settle along the spine of her book, between pages. "Chielyth?"
B'kaiv echoes, confused, "Mapping th' bowl?" and glances to where the bowl would be, were rock walls not in the way. He turns back with a, "She's good. Real good. Playing with Saulienth an' Arwith in th' lake. Elaruth's invited too." Just in case either Hattie or her dragon were waiting with bated breath. "How you been? You reading that f'r work?" With a nod to her balancing book.
"She likes listening to the rain, where it falls, and using that to put together a picture of the Bowl. Or wherever she is. At least those senses are doing her some good now," Hattie attempts to explain, peering Bowl-wards herself like she can see through rock. Which she, of course, can't, and so that is abandoned pretty quick. "Thanks, I'll let her know, if she doesn't already. I'm... alright. Reading for work, yes. Comparing one turn with another. Interesting to sit here and maybe catch things otherwise missed, too. You? How's being in a Wing? Well, new Wing."
"...Huh," Kai grunts, with just enough of a pause that it's debatable if that makes any sense to him. Probably not. "She... ain't never looked at it?" But that can't be right either. After another moment he shoves farther back in his chair and dries off his palms on his knees. "Good. --Mean, it's lots like being a weyrling, y'know? We drill a lot. Mean, a /lot/. I were up t' the Reaches th' other day, an' their Headwoman were saying as they got a wing as only drills once a month. What about you an' th' Weyrwoman? You do any drilling?"
Hattie doesn't really smile, it's more of a smirk that lacks most of the sharp edges such an expression might usually carry. "Yes, she's looked at it. A lot," she confirms. Now it's her turn to be baffled and she frowns. "Only once a month? That's a bit... well, that's either overconfident or lazy, don't you think? Neither better than the other, really." She bites down on her lip and shakes her head; must decide to let that go before the inevitable dwelling begins. "We do. It's not like the rest of the Wings, though." Some regret for that, perhaps. "We don't have the same people for long, so it's... it's just different."
B'kaiv tries screwing up his face and squinting at Hattie, just in case that makes Elaruth's foibles make more sense. That probably also doesn't help. "So how come...?" he starts, and shakes his head to throw off the very idea. "Yeah - I dunno. Ain't saying as it's /right/, just that's what she told me. Wouldn't mind not drilling six days out of th' seven, myself, but I dunno about once a month. Anyway, I ain't no wingleader, so I don't got no say in it." As for the queen's wing, "Huh. Yeah, guess not. Could get you training t' do search an' rescue, maybe. S'good for everybody t' know."
The weyrwoman waves one hand and dismisses the concept herself. "It's alright. She does what she does. She has her reasons." Hattie shrugs. "I guess that's where we're different. I'd like the six days out of seven. I'm not saying I'm not busy otherwise, but shuffling out to drill once a month would drive me nuts. It'd feel like never getting anywhere, I imagine." She retrieves her pen from between the pages of the book and sets it down the armrest, closing the book straight after. "Any training is good. What would you do, you and Chielyth, if you had the choice? In drills or training-wise."
Kai's right hand pats his knee in a short, arrhythmic series while the man himself considers his clutchmate. "Ain't like we got t' go nowhere, just keep th' skills fresh for the next... hundred an' eighty turns." His hand stills at the question, and he takes a few seconds to actually consider, hazel eyes drifting past her shoulder. "Search an' rescue. An' acrobatics. She can turn on a mark an' give you change - you seen her. Wouldn't mind doin' some traveling, neither. Down South, maybe. Or up in th' Northern Range. Go out for a couple sevens, see what there's t' see."
"It's a chain," Hattie remarks. "That's how I see it. Even if we never use some skills for real, we need to know so others know. So nothing gets lost in between." Her eyes narrow a little and she admits, "And I can't decide if that's a bad pun or not." Either way, she carries on to say, "Yeah, she's certainly something in the air, Chielyth. She'd probably be good up in the north, all those mountains and peaks and valleys to traverse. Get through sharper spaces, sharper corners."
"Know what you mean," Kai nods to the pun, without a flicker of amusement. "Gotta make sure we know what we're doing so we can teach th' ones as come after, an' they can teach th' ones as come after them until Thread's come again. S'just there's got t' be something in between once a month an' twenty-four times. -How 'bout you? What'd you an' Elaruth do, if you could do anything? I can see her exploring too, going t' all them places ain't nobody live."
That answer is easy, given the speed with which Hattie responds. "Fly," she states simply. "Just... fly and fly and fly. If the choice was entirely hers and I wouldn't argue to be honest. Explore and find somewhere quiet and pretty where she wouldn't be disturbed for a while. Or just plain explore - she likes meeting new people and seeing new things, just not all in a rush and at once." She smiles ruefully. "But there's finding the time. Real time, not just an hour here and there."
"...Yeah," Kai agrees, a little ruefully. "Me an' Chielyth, we do that sometimes. Pick a direction we ain't gone yet, and just..." One hand arrows off, and up, to the limits of one arm. "S'nice. Gotta have at least a afternoon t' do it in, though." He considers the woman across from him again. "Weyrwoman keep you hopping? You could ask her, maybe - or just do it on your rest days. Could tell you some of th' places we been. Can't give you a visualization, or nothing..." Rueful, but with a little shrug: everyone knows what Chielyth's visualizations look like.
Hattie glances down at her closed book and shakes her head again. "It's not so much that, it's... There are things to be done. There's work. I've never really been one to know what to do with free time when I get it anyway. Yes, I know that sounds ridiculous, but that's the way it is." Her eyes find the hearth and linger there for a little while, moving only a fraction with the leaping of the flames. "Free time is time, but it's... not. But I'm glad you two get to go anyway."
B'kaiv and Hattie are in a couple of the elderly (and thus, comfortable) chairs near the hearth, escaping the sporadic showers in the bowl. "You just said you wanted t' fly, though," Kai points out, confused. "There's always things t' get done. Always. It ain't gonna go away just 'cause you spent a afternoon doing them instead of doing something you want."
Lundan comes in with a light sheen of sweat and a bandana securing his hair froom his face. The young man is taking big deep breaths like he just finished some extensive exercise, but one that he is used to doing. Or it could be that he just got lightly frenched too. His first goal apppears to be a drink of liquid, for he heads in that direction.
Standing at around 5'6", Hattie is a slim young woman who manages to avoid looking outright thin by the fact that she has the soft features of a person used to wanting for nothing. Her dark skin is only fractionally lighter than her hair, which falls in unruly and often frizzy waves a few inches down her back. Deep brown eyes are set in an oval-shaped face with a rather undefined jaw and smooth cheekbones.
"People don't get what they want," Hattie replies, reaching to close the other book settled on that armrest. "'I want, doesn't get' as they say. Things don't change or happen because you want them to." Reasonably short statements that don't sound as clipped or forceful as they might, her voice held low. "And it won't go away, I know, which is why it's all got to be done. And doing something I want just isn't..." Isn't something and she just fall silent, gaze going to track the newcomer across the room.
Lundan has found his drink in the form of a skin filled with something when he reappears. As he does he is taking a long drink from it, as one who is parched. When he is done it is corked and her wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. "Hello!" He says cheerfully to Hattie and B'kaiv. "Enjoying the weather?" His tone is mildly sarcastic, but still cheerful.
This young man is perhaps in his mid-teens. He is tall and slim with a build more towards a runner than a miner. Short brown hair falls in a shag to his shoulders and he often is brushing bangs from his eyes. Those eyes, by the way, are a shocking icey blue in shade, but his demeanor is rarely anything like that. A wide mouth can often be seen smiling and there are dimples when he does. A small cleft in his chin is also notable.
Currently he wears a loose undershirt of cream color. Over this is a light blue vest of heavier material with lovely white couched embroidery. A pair of dark gray pants cover his lower half with ankle boots of the same color. All in all a pretty plain bit of attire, but it does bring out those eyes.
"Sure they do," Kai argues right back, with just as much heat. "I ain't never heard 'I want, doesn't get', but it sounds plenty wherry-brained. I want supper - that mean I ain't gonna get it? I'm only gonna get th' things I /don't/ want?" He pushes back into his chair to shake his head at her, bemused. "Honest, Hattie, th' things..." He trails off too, interrupted by Lundan. "--Hey," the greenrider offers after a moment. "It ain't bad. Better'n th' however long it were of nothin' but rain. Least it's starting t' show some sun these days."
"It means you should have the right priorities and be reasonable about obtaining what you-" Hattie begins to reply, then bites the rest of those words back and stares at the hearth some more before she can look back and manage any kind of response to Lundan. "It was nicer this morning. All sunshine. Now it's just irritating and can't make up its mind. Hope you're not out in it every time the rain hits," she says, all in the same tone, no variation between sentences.
Lundan chuckles and shrugs one shoulder as he says, "Oh I am, but it doesn't bother me. There are worse thing to fall out of the sky like hail. It actually cools me off when I'm running from her to the hold or wherever I'm going..." He trails off taking another long drink of from the skin about his shoulders.
B'kaiv considers the younger man for a few seconds like he's waiting for some shocking revelation - maybe about the weather? "'Least it ain't winter," he finally puts in. Back to Hattie, though, "That ain't th' same thing, though. You said as people don't get what they want. Nothing about priorities," he speaks the word like it's covered in brambles, "Or being reasonable. Maybe I ain't never gonna be Weyrleader, but that don't mean I got t' sit in my weyr instead of taking Chielyth flying."
Hattie blinks up at Lundan for a few moments, eyes narrowed like she thinks maybe she should know the answer to what she questions, "Where're you headed next?" But then there's Kai and she's still not snappy, only resigned or tired. "People don't get what they want all the time," she insists. "So you can either be a screaming child about it, or you can get on with what you have to do and get some of what you want along the way in return. I like work, I want to work. Anything else I want to do gets put on hold - I can't just run out and do it. It's not right."
Lundan listens to the conversation for a moment with a bit of a puzzled expression, but shrugs it off with a smile. Instead he replies to Hattie's question at a pause in the conversation, "I'm done for the day. I believe tomorrow I may have to run to Harper Hall, but nothing firm yet. Mostly I believe I'm at the disposal for anyone who needs a message run somewhere."
"'Course they don't," Kai snorts, like Hattie's very carefully explained that people cannot jump off the Star Stones and land at Harper Hall. "That ain't what you said, though." For a second - less - he looks as though he might argue further, but shrugs instead and leans back in his chair again. "Long way t' run," he points out. "You ever run th' other side of th' mountains?" He waves generally westward.
The goldrider sighs and opens her book again, reclaiming her pen. "Kai, I'm not telling you it's how you should live your life. It's just how I am. It doesn't affect you - unless you secretly lie awake at night worrying about it - it doesn't really affect anyone, so how about we just let me go on thinking what I want?" It's like Hattie might be checking the book as she addresses Lundan, but surely such information can't be so conveniently at hand. "I'm not aware of anything pressing that needs to be sent anywhere, but that might well alter by the morning."
Lundan bobs his head to Hattie and says, "Hey, like I said I go where I'm needed. If I'm not I laze about and tell ladies how lovely they are," Here he sneaks in a wink, "Just to see how red they blush of course." Was that a quiet chuckle from the young man? "And hey, it's your mind you should be able to think whatever you want. An opinion is just that, yours." He didn't really need to add his two marks to the conversation, but he did.
B'kaiv huffs out his breath, rocks forward in his chair and up, running one hand through his now-dry hair. "Shells, Hattie, stop changing what you're talking about. This ain't never been about what I do or don't do. Just... shells. Never mind." A brusque hand chops off his own words, and he turns a sour look on the younger boy. "She don't need /you/ telling her that, or smarming up t' her like it'll get you something." Back to Hattie. "I'm gonna go. You wanna come flying with me an' Chielyth, all you got t' do is say so." They're dropped each a nod in turn, and then the burly greenrider's heading off toward one of the residential tunnels, not looking back.
If you're gonna say something like that, better be willing to finish it, not keep saying that ain't what you meant. If it ain't what she meant, she shouldn'ta said it. Sounds like that boy's been listening to W'ton, too. We don't need another one of them around.