Wingmate chatter
It is a winter morning, 10:30 of day 10, month 13, turn 22 of Interval 10.
Nighthearth, Fort Weyr
An irregular archway leads into the alcove that houses Fort Weyr's nighthearth. The cozy little nook is kept stocked at all times with fresh, hot klah, a pot of stew and a basket of baked goods including breads and both savory and sweet filled rolls. Several leather upholstered chairs stand clustered around the hearth itself which has a grate for propping up chilled feet to warm up on cold days. The Weyr's aunties also keep the space well-supplied with a stack of perpetually renewed afghans in interesting color choices, while the headwoman's staff ensures that some of the older towels are always on hand for riders ducking in off of sweeps in bad weather. Otherwise, the nighthearth is undecorated but for the motley collection of mismatched mugs, bowls and spoons that line the mantel for general use.
Obvious exits:
Out
It's a beautiful - if cold - morning, which means that while B'kaiv might be up and around, his green is tucked snugly into her wallow, getting her beauty rest for the day. Said morning finds Kai similarly tucked into the night hearth, refilling the towels out of a rickety basket. The afghans in all their motley glory are neatly folded and put away, and for once the greenrider is the only occupant of the cozy alcove.
Cold means that the trek across the bowl is a thing to be endured for one still used to Neratian warmth and thus it is straight to the nighthearth that red-cheeked Nissa goes, her jacket still buttoned up to her throat, collar turned up and her head turtled down into it as far as she can manage. Nevermind that the sun is shining, it's useless today. The fireplace is her target and she's there with gloved hands stretched out to the warmth, shuddering and making ack-brrrr-coldcoldcold mutters of complaint and only after that does she say, "M-m-morning Kai."
B'kaiv shoves the last of the stubborn towels onto their shelf before looking over, eyebrows lifted at the sight of his wingmate. "Shells, what's th' matter with you? You sick?" Taking a step back from his work he casts a critical eye on the lot - the shelves are now full of towels. Crammed full. Good luck to anyone who only wants to get one out - before nodding, satisfied, and turning to join Nissa at the flames. "Th' klah's pretty fresh, I think. 'F you want some."
Fingers being too stiff to remove her gloves the normal way, Nissa nips the fingers of one, then the other between her teeth to get them started, tugs them off and crams them in her jacket pockets, which gets peeled off and tossed in one of the chairs nearby. Kai's question draws a cheeky grin, or what would be one if her face wasn't cold-stiffened, "Nah. I'm as healthy as a runner, unless sick of winter already counts. Was to Nerat for a few days. It's summer there." But klah sounds really good right about now, her shoulders hunching as her steps take her away from the warmth radiated by the fire and over to the table where the mugs are. "You want some?" She's dangling an empty mug at him from the crook of her forefinger.
"Shells, it ain't hardly even winter yet," the other greenrider drawls, meeting her grin with a crooked smile of his own. "You got months yet t' get sick of it. Don't get it all out at once. --Yeah, sure," he'll take some klah and push one of the leather chairs a foot closer to the fire before flopping into another. "How's Liath? She don't mind th' cold like you do, yeah?"
Oh don't tell her that! Nissa grimaces and mutters a few choice words, snags a second mug and fills them both while asking her wingmate the standard, "Cream, sugar, both?" adding them to hers and his if he so indicates. When finished she makes it back and hey - no spilling even! She's controlling the shivering enough to avoid doing that, offering him his mug handle-first and then lowering herself into the chair he's so kindly nudged forward for her. Dryly and with a wry smirk, "Liath loves it, but then she has the advantage of being hatched in a blizzard, so..."
B'kaiv takes his klah black and the mug with a nod, watching with wry consideration until Nissa's safely off her feet. "Hah. Yeah, Chielyth too. Winter, I mean. She loves th' spring. Thing I don't like most about th' winter is all them days th' weather's too bad t' go nowhere. We're lucky, we can get down t' th' Sands or somewhere, and she got company. There was a couple days last turn...." He trails off, attention turning inward and eyes going dark, a frown creeping over his face. After a second he shakes his head and shakes it off with a brusque, "Don't matter. So what you think about... shells, what's his name? T'kyn? Think he's gonna get rid of R'lis?"
Vanissa curls both hands around her mug, booted feet stretched towards the fire, which helps her relax a whole lot. So there's no hot klah-sloppage onto fingers, yay! She nods absently into the flames while B'kaiv talks, her eyes turning to him at that pause in time to note his expression and curiosity promts her to echo, "Last turn?" But then he's neverminding and she's not one to pry. Her okay is uncertain, covered by the hasty answer to his question, "Hope so! Ugh. Waste of time havin' him wingleader." T'kyn merely gets a shrug and a slight frown, "He's not T'rev." is about all she can come up with.
B'kaiv glances over at her question, his shoulders hunching fractionally. It takes him only a second or two to judge it - or her - harmless though, and with half of an apologetic shrug he repeats, "Yeah. Last turn. Last /few/ turns. Don't wanna go through 'em again." In reality? Verbally? Either way, he returns to the other topic with what, for Kai, is relief. "Nah, he ain't. That ain't saying much though." A slurp of klah and he grins sidelong, teasing. "T'rev's always going on about how there's all them greenriding Wingleaders other Weyrs. Maybe T'kyn'll give Obsidian t' you."
"Huh. Yeah." Nissa gets that, her agreement is simple and heartfelt, although she can only guess at what he's alluding to and probably draws the wrong conclusion, her guess being obvious by the half-growled words, "Shardin' Rivellan." Which sums up her newly-acquired knowledge of the whole mess. "It's just wierd for me," she shrugs with a nose-wrinkle about T'rev not being weyrleader anymore and that's not saying much, either. It's got to be weirder for her brother, after all. But oh, he had to say that about wingleaders while she was mid-sip into her klah, didn't he? When the spluttering is over she manages, "Hope not. Shells!" Then more slyly, "Maybe he'll give it t'you!" Ha!
Wrong or not, Kai's more than willing to let 'Sharding Rivellan' stand in for a whole host of other epithets, and lifts his mug in silent salute. He leans a bit further closer to the fire, his weight on one forearm, and considers the flames rather than the other rider, smirking at her again for his success. "Hah. Yeah, ain't nobody crack-brained enough t' give me no wing. Not even your sharding brother." Which brings something /else/ to mind, for the greenrider pulls in on himself and scowls again. "--Shells. Still ain't got no idea what I'm gonna do with that sharding glass. You want it?"
Wiping klah-droplets from her lips with the back of one hand, Nissa's mug stays planted on her lap with the fingers of her other hand firmly wrapped around it. Saluting the demise of Rivellan is just not her cup of tea, it seems. Teasing him back, "Ya never know, T'kyn might do it just out of orneriness?" He's -old- and old folks do stuff like that, don't they? But what's this? "Want? No, Kai, thanks anyway." She swallows hard, stifling a laugh, managing to look quite serious when she suggests, "Put it on your bar to hold your tips?" If he looks back at her, she's all innocence, back to sipping her klah.
Kai 'hah's again and shakes his head, settles firmly against the back of his chair and keeps quiet. For a little while, anyway - her further teasing brings another, more honest, smile to his face. "Shells yeah, that ain't no half bad idea. Got it up t' my weyr now, but I don't sharding well like looking at it. All that - shells, /alla/ that, and it's a sharding /glass/? Feels strange. Chielyth talked me outta just tossing it in th' fire."
After a period of silence in which Nissa mulls this tidbit over, a crooked grin pulls at her mouth, "Chielyth did, huh?" Her grin fades to serious, her tone carefully neutral lest he know she shares the sentiment, "Sounds like she's real proud of what you both did, Kai." She sends a sidelong look at her wingmate while taking a draught from her mug, lowers it to say quietly, "I'm bettin' any token that reminds ya of hangin' with the raiders would feel strange. I didn't keep those rocks from that hole." She grimaces briefly then has to ask, "Unless you can think of somethin' better than a glass?" She has no idea, really.
"Yeah," Kai admits, the corner of his mouth pulling up despite himself. "Says as I can always throw it out later, but I chuck it now and I can't never change my mind. I said she could have it," he adds, generous to a fault, "but she didn't want it neither." After a few quiet moments, "Suppose it's a'right t' talk about it now, but shells, it still feels weird. Got th' feeling as there's them as wouldn't be too happy with me for what I done. Anyone as thinks all them troubles is gone is just wherry-brained."
"Smart of her," Nissa chuckles before she's suddenly ill-at-ease, shifting to eye B'kaiv with a slight frown, "What do you mean they're not all gone?" She wanted them magically gone, but alas. Didn't happen. "They got the ones started it all and no one's left to pay them..." So call her naive - she is (was? would like to be?) one of the wherry-brained. But now she's troubled by the thought, squinting into the bottom of her mug, muttering resentfully, "Shardin' crazy Lord Holders, what next?"
B'kaiv checks over his shoulder but they are - for now - still alone, shoved towels, cheery fire, klah and all. "Mean they probably ain't got all them raiders," he explains patiently. "I didn't go t' none of th' trials or nothing, and it ain't like I counted noses, but you know how easy it'd be t' just go off and hide in th' woods. Steal little bits, here and there... shells, bet I could do it easy if I ain't got Chielyth." Of course, there -is- the matter of that tiny green to consider. "Ain't gonna think on it, any road. I got anything t' say on it, I ain't never doing nothing like none of that again." Whatever else the greenrider may be, on this he is firm.
Vanissa can't help but peer in the direction B'kaiv does, though she's got to shift upright and crane her neck to see over the back of her chair to do it. Seeing nothing, she throws him a puzzled glance, which clears when he explains. "Oh, duh. And with no one payin' them, they'd do that, wouldn't thay?" Steal to get by. Great. With a little huff, she sinks down into her seat. He may not think on it, but she certainly will, although to his assertion, she says, "I don't blame you! I wasn't away from Liath near as long as you, but..." Yeah, not fun. Her eyes go distant into the flames for a full minute until a slow smirk grows on her lips, "I don't suppose Rivallen's poison could be put to good use on 'em?" She wasn't at the trials or execution, either, but heard enough that using some dark humor will help her get over it.
B'kaiv rises to refill his cup and offer her a warmer. It puts him just that much farther from and facing the door, coincidentally, and he uses the opportunity to give another look to what he can see of the caverns through the irregular archway. As he settles back into his chair he too stretches his legs out to the fire, taking his time. "That weren't th' only time, neither." Her quip about the poison earns her a sharp look; after a moment or three he relaxes enough to offer a wan smile. "Yeah, don't think so. So," he continues in a tone that almost forcibly Changes the Subject, "Liath gone up yet? She's close t' two turns, ain't she?"
Vanissa accepts that warmer, lifting her mug helpfully. It's klah, better if it were something stronger, but it's too early in the day for that. She misses B'kaiv's sharp look while blowing on the surface of the liquid to cool it, raising her eyes while her brows hike up into her hairline to ask, "Oh yeah?" She didn't know that! A low whistle follows before she sips and his subject change effectively stops any further comments about such uncomfortable subjects as beheadings and what led to it. Surprised he has to ask, but the answer is "She did. Few sevens ago."
B'kaiv says, "Yeah?" in the tone of one encouraging elaboration, and not challenging her on the statement. "Good. And you didn't have no trouble." It may not be - precisely - a question, but he lifted eyebrows he offers over his mug give her plenty of room to treat it as such. "Think Chielyth's gonna go up in a couple sevens, she keeps t' what she done before. Be her third, so this oughta show if she's gonna be regular or not.""
"Yeah," Vanissa answers easily enough with a grin to accompany it. "No trouble, no." Casually mentioning some bluerider's name with a shrug while warming her mug, handing his back. "Proddy's weird." She grimaces, "Can't say I like that part of it, but..." Her attention is on her klah, a glance flicked his way when he speaks again. "Oh, regular. Hmm." Something she hadn't considered. "Might be nice to have a warning it's coming up. Luck with that." Apparently Liath surprised her. Yay!
"Yeah?" Kai asks again. "Chielyth don't like t' sleep, when she's proddy. There's always more she got t' do." He shakes his head, fondly amused at his busy little girl, before turning his attention back to his wingmate. "Yeah, s'nice. Didn't know th' first time, 'course. Second, either. 'Cept I looked back, and they were six months t' th' day. Makes it th' twenty-second, she keeps t' th' pattern."
"Liath was grabby with stuff. Grouchy-like." Nissa moves her shoulders like her shirt itches her recounting that. "Which made me grouchy and I... I need to apologize to Ella." The look on her face is a mixture of chagrin and bafflement. "Can't say as I like the lack of control, but the rest was pretty amazin'." She cocks her head at B'kaiv's recounting flights, "Like clockwork would help. Could maybe avoid some awkwardness, maybe." Like letting a fourteen turn old get under your skin.
"She didn't let me sleep neither," is Kai's sole contribution to the discussion of proddiness. Otherwise he stays quiet, working on his klah and letting his wingmate talk. "Yeah, does. Gives me a idea of when she's gonna go up, any road. S'better'n tying myself in knots like before th' first time. She were almost three before she rose, th' first time. Late. Liath, though, she went up right on time, yeah? She ain't two yet."
Like she can't imagine that, "You tied yourself in knots, huh?" Nissa knows better than to show amusement at this, but B'kaiv gets a mighty curious look before she huhs at late, "Didn't know they did that, but yeah, Liath aint quite two." And from the weyrling lessons, she knows the green is on schedule for that. Her mug is empty, she's warmed up, so she rises slowly, stretching muscles taut from shivering. "Gonna get some breakfast, you ate yet?" If he wants to come, he's welcome in otherwords. If not, Nissa heads off to find food alone.
"Why d'you think I were so sharding worried, that time I seen you? Shells," he adds with a laugh, "sharding /Monaco/." That's all the time frame Kai gives to that particular comment, letting the other greenrider figure it out for herself. "Yeah," he ate, but he rises anyway, tossing back the last of his klah. "Back t' deliveries, before Chielyth wakes up. Regards t' Liath - and if we ain't drilling t'day," always a question with R'lis, "you want t' go flying?"
Gonna be a sharding long winter for her. Oughta think about putting hot drinks up to the Den. Huh. Oughta see about keeping it open all day when we're snowed in. Assuming Chielyth can get up there, of course.
Nighthearth, Fort Weyr
An irregular archway leads into the alcove that houses Fort Weyr's nighthearth. The cozy little nook is kept stocked at all times with fresh, hot klah, a pot of stew and a basket of baked goods including breads and both savory and sweet filled rolls. Several leather upholstered chairs stand clustered around the hearth itself which has a grate for propping up chilled feet to warm up on cold days. The Weyr's aunties also keep the space well-supplied with a stack of perpetually renewed afghans in interesting color choices, while the headwoman's staff ensures that some of the older towels are always on hand for riders ducking in off of sweeps in bad weather. Otherwise, the nighthearth is undecorated but for the motley collection of mismatched mugs, bowls and spoons that line the mantel for general use.
Obvious exits:
Out
It's a beautiful - if cold - morning, which means that while B'kaiv might be up and around, his green is tucked snugly into her wallow, getting her beauty rest for the day. Said morning finds Kai similarly tucked into the night hearth, refilling the towels out of a rickety basket. The afghans in all their motley glory are neatly folded and put away, and for once the greenrider is the only occupant of the cozy alcove.
Cold means that the trek across the bowl is a thing to be endured for one still used to Neratian warmth and thus it is straight to the nighthearth that red-cheeked Nissa goes, her jacket still buttoned up to her throat, collar turned up and her head turtled down into it as far as she can manage. Nevermind that the sun is shining, it's useless today. The fireplace is her target and she's there with gloved hands stretched out to the warmth, shuddering and making ack-brrrr-coldcoldcold mutters of complaint and only after that does she say, "M-m-morning Kai."
B'kaiv shoves the last of the stubborn towels onto their shelf before looking over, eyebrows lifted at the sight of his wingmate. "Shells, what's th' matter with you? You sick?" Taking a step back from his work he casts a critical eye on the lot - the shelves are now full of towels. Crammed full. Good luck to anyone who only wants to get one out - before nodding, satisfied, and turning to join Nissa at the flames. "Th' klah's pretty fresh, I think. 'F you want some."
Fingers being too stiff to remove her gloves the normal way, Nissa nips the fingers of one, then the other between her teeth to get them started, tugs them off and crams them in her jacket pockets, which gets peeled off and tossed in one of the chairs nearby. Kai's question draws a cheeky grin, or what would be one if her face wasn't cold-stiffened, "Nah. I'm as healthy as a runner, unless sick of winter already counts. Was to Nerat for a few days. It's summer there." But klah sounds really good right about now, her shoulders hunching as her steps take her away from the warmth radiated by the fire and over to the table where the mugs are. "You want some?" She's dangling an empty mug at him from the crook of her forefinger.
"Shells, it ain't hardly even winter yet," the other greenrider drawls, meeting her grin with a crooked smile of his own. "You got months yet t' get sick of it. Don't get it all out at once. --Yeah, sure," he'll take some klah and push one of the leather chairs a foot closer to the fire before flopping into another. "How's Liath? She don't mind th' cold like you do, yeah?"
Oh don't tell her that! Nissa grimaces and mutters a few choice words, snags a second mug and fills them both while asking her wingmate the standard, "Cream, sugar, both?" adding them to hers and his if he so indicates. When finished she makes it back and hey - no spilling even! She's controlling the shivering enough to avoid doing that, offering him his mug handle-first and then lowering herself into the chair he's so kindly nudged forward for her. Dryly and with a wry smirk, "Liath loves it, but then she has the advantage of being hatched in a blizzard, so..."
B'kaiv takes his klah black and the mug with a nod, watching with wry consideration until Nissa's safely off her feet. "Hah. Yeah, Chielyth too. Winter, I mean. She loves th' spring. Thing I don't like most about th' winter is all them days th' weather's too bad t' go nowhere. We're lucky, we can get down t' th' Sands or somewhere, and she got company. There was a couple days last turn...." He trails off, attention turning inward and eyes going dark, a frown creeping over his face. After a second he shakes his head and shakes it off with a brusque, "Don't matter. So what you think about... shells, what's his name? T'kyn? Think he's gonna get rid of R'lis?"
Vanissa curls both hands around her mug, booted feet stretched towards the fire, which helps her relax a whole lot. So there's no hot klah-sloppage onto fingers, yay! She nods absently into the flames while B'kaiv talks, her eyes turning to him at that pause in time to note his expression and curiosity promts her to echo, "Last turn?" But then he's neverminding and she's not one to pry. Her okay is uncertain, covered by the hasty answer to his question, "Hope so! Ugh. Waste of time havin' him wingleader." T'kyn merely gets a shrug and a slight frown, "He's not T'rev." is about all she can come up with.
B'kaiv glances over at her question, his shoulders hunching fractionally. It takes him only a second or two to judge it - or her - harmless though, and with half of an apologetic shrug he repeats, "Yeah. Last turn. Last /few/ turns. Don't wanna go through 'em again." In reality? Verbally? Either way, he returns to the other topic with what, for Kai, is relief. "Nah, he ain't. That ain't saying much though." A slurp of klah and he grins sidelong, teasing. "T'rev's always going on about how there's all them greenriding Wingleaders other Weyrs. Maybe T'kyn'll give Obsidian t' you."
"Huh. Yeah." Nissa gets that, her agreement is simple and heartfelt, although she can only guess at what he's alluding to and probably draws the wrong conclusion, her guess being obvious by the half-growled words, "Shardin' Rivellan." Which sums up her newly-acquired knowledge of the whole mess. "It's just wierd for me," she shrugs with a nose-wrinkle about T'rev not being weyrleader anymore and that's not saying much, either. It's got to be weirder for her brother, after all. But oh, he had to say that about wingleaders while she was mid-sip into her klah, didn't he? When the spluttering is over she manages, "Hope not. Shells!" Then more slyly, "Maybe he'll give it t'you!" Ha!
Wrong or not, Kai's more than willing to let 'Sharding Rivellan' stand in for a whole host of other epithets, and lifts his mug in silent salute. He leans a bit further closer to the fire, his weight on one forearm, and considers the flames rather than the other rider, smirking at her again for his success. "Hah. Yeah, ain't nobody crack-brained enough t' give me no wing. Not even your sharding brother." Which brings something /else/ to mind, for the greenrider pulls in on himself and scowls again. "--Shells. Still ain't got no idea what I'm gonna do with that sharding glass. You want it?"
Wiping klah-droplets from her lips with the back of one hand, Nissa's mug stays planted on her lap with the fingers of her other hand firmly wrapped around it. Saluting the demise of Rivellan is just not her cup of tea, it seems. Teasing him back, "Ya never know, T'kyn might do it just out of orneriness?" He's -old- and old folks do stuff like that, don't they? But what's this? "Want? No, Kai, thanks anyway." She swallows hard, stifling a laugh, managing to look quite serious when she suggests, "Put it on your bar to hold your tips?" If he looks back at her, she's all innocence, back to sipping her klah.
Kai 'hah's again and shakes his head, settles firmly against the back of his chair and keeps quiet. For a little while, anyway - her further teasing brings another, more honest, smile to his face. "Shells yeah, that ain't no half bad idea. Got it up t' my weyr now, but I don't sharding well like looking at it. All that - shells, /alla/ that, and it's a sharding /glass/? Feels strange. Chielyth talked me outta just tossing it in th' fire."
After a period of silence in which Nissa mulls this tidbit over, a crooked grin pulls at her mouth, "Chielyth did, huh?" Her grin fades to serious, her tone carefully neutral lest he know she shares the sentiment, "Sounds like she's real proud of what you both did, Kai." She sends a sidelong look at her wingmate while taking a draught from her mug, lowers it to say quietly, "I'm bettin' any token that reminds ya of hangin' with the raiders would feel strange. I didn't keep those rocks from that hole." She grimaces briefly then has to ask, "Unless you can think of somethin' better than a glass?" She has no idea, really.
"Yeah," Kai admits, the corner of his mouth pulling up despite himself. "Says as I can always throw it out later, but I chuck it now and I can't never change my mind. I said she could have it," he adds, generous to a fault, "but she didn't want it neither." After a few quiet moments, "Suppose it's a'right t' talk about it now, but shells, it still feels weird. Got th' feeling as there's them as wouldn't be too happy with me for what I done. Anyone as thinks all them troubles is gone is just wherry-brained."
"Smart of her," Nissa chuckles before she's suddenly ill-at-ease, shifting to eye B'kaiv with a slight frown, "What do you mean they're not all gone?" She wanted them magically gone, but alas. Didn't happen. "They got the ones started it all and no one's left to pay them..." So call her naive - she is (was? would like to be?) one of the wherry-brained. But now she's troubled by the thought, squinting into the bottom of her mug, muttering resentfully, "Shardin' crazy Lord Holders, what next?"
B'kaiv checks over his shoulder but they are - for now - still alone, shoved towels, cheery fire, klah and all. "Mean they probably ain't got all them raiders," he explains patiently. "I didn't go t' none of th' trials or nothing, and it ain't like I counted noses, but you know how easy it'd be t' just go off and hide in th' woods. Steal little bits, here and there... shells, bet I could do it easy if I ain't got Chielyth." Of course, there -is- the matter of that tiny green to consider. "Ain't gonna think on it, any road. I got anything t' say on it, I ain't never doing nothing like none of that again." Whatever else the greenrider may be, on this he is firm.
Vanissa can't help but peer in the direction B'kaiv does, though she's got to shift upright and crane her neck to see over the back of her chair to do it. Seeing nothing, she throws him a puzzled glance, which clears when he explains. "Oh, duh. And with no one payin' them, they'd do that, wouldn't thay?" Steal to get by. Great. With a little huff, she sinks down into her seat. He may not think on it, but she certainly will, although to his assertion, she says, "I don't blame you! I wasn't away from Liath near as long as you, but..." Yeah, not fun. Her eyes go distant into the flames for a full minute until a slow smirk grows on her lips, "I don't suppose Rivallen's poison could be put to good use on 'em?" She wasn't at the trials or execution, either, but heard enough that using some dark humor will help her get over it.
B'kaiv rises to refill his cup and offer her a warmer. It puts him just that much farther from and facing the door, coincidentally, and he uses the opportunity to give another look to what he can see of the caverns through the irregular archway. As he settles back into his chair he too stretches his legs out to the fire, taking his time. "That weren't th' only time, neither." Her quip about the poison earns her a sharp look; after a moment or three he relaxes enough to offer a wan smile. "Yeah, don't think so. So," he continues in a tone that almost forcibly Changes the Subject, "Liath gone up yet? She's close t' two turns, ain't she?"
Vanissa accepts that warmer, lifting her mug helpfully. It's klah, better if it were something stronger, but it's too early in the day for that. She misses B'kaiv's sharp look while blowing on the surface of the liquid to cool it, raising her eyes while her brows hike up into her hairline to ask, "Oh yeah?" She didn't know that! A low whistle follows before she sips and his subject change effectively stops any further comments about such uncomfortable subjects as beheadings and what led to it. Surprised he has to ask, but the answer is "She did. Few sevens ago."
B'kaiv says, "Yeah?" in the tone of one encouraging elaboration, and not challenging her on the statement. "Good. And you didn't have no trouble." It may not be - precisely - a question, but he lifted eyebrows he offers over his mug give her plenty of room to treat it as such. "Think Chielyth's gonna go up in a couple sevens, she keeps t' what she done before. Be her third, so this oughta show if she's gonna be regular or not.""
"Yeah," Vanissa answers easily enough with a grin to accompany it. "No trouble, no." Casually mentioning some bluerider's name with a shrug while warming her mug, handing his back. "Proddy's weird." She grimaces, "Can't say I like that part of it, but..." Her attention is on her klah, a glance flicked his way when he speaks again. "Oh, regular. Hmm." Something she hadn't considered. "Might be nice to have a warning it's coming up. Luck with that." Apparently Liath surprised her. Yay!
"Yeah?" Kai asks again. "Chielyth don't like t' sleep, when she's proddy. There's always more she got t' do." He shakes his head, fondly amused at his busy little girl, before turning his attention back to his wingmate. "Yeah, s'nice. Didn't know th' first time, 'course. Second, either. 'Cept I looked back, and they were six months t' th' day. Makes it th' twenty-second, she keeps t' th' pattern."
"Liath was grabby with stuff. Grouchy-like." Nissa moves her shoulders like her shirt itches her recounting that. "Which made me grouchy and I... I need to apologize to Ella." The look on her face is a mixture of chagrin and bafflement. "Can't say as I like the lack of control, but the rest was pretty amazin'." She cocks her head at B'kaiv's recounting flights, "Like clockwork would help. Could maybe avoid some awkwardness, maybe." Like letting a fourteen turn old get under your skin.
"She didn't let me sleep neither," is Kai's sole contribution to the discussion of proddiness. Otherwise he stays quiet, working on his klah and letting his wingmate talk. "Yeah, does. Gives me a idea of when she's gonna go up, any road. S'better'n tying myself in knots like before th' first time. She were almost three before she rose, th' first time. Late. Liath, though, she went up right on time, yeah? She ain't two yet."
Like she can't imagine that, "You tied yourself in knots, huh?" Nissa knows better than to show amusement at this, but B'kaiv gets a mighty curious look before she huhs at late, "Didn't know they did that, but yeah, Liath aint quite two." And from the weyrling lessons, she knows the green is on schedule for that. Her mug is empty, she's warmed up, so she rises slowly, stretching muscles taut from shivering. "Gonna get some breakfast, you ate yet?" If he wants to come, he's welcome in otherwords. If not, Nissa heads off to find food alone.
"Why d'you think I were so sharding worried, that time I seen you? Shells," he adds with a laugh, "sharding /Monaco/." That's all the time frame Kai gives to that particular comment, letting the other greenrider figure it out for herself. "Yeah," he ate, but he rises anyway, tossing back the last of his klah. "Back t' deliveries, before Chielyth wakes up. Regards t' Liath - and if we ain't drilling t'day," always a question with R'lis, "you want t' go flying?"
Gonna be a sharding long winter for her. Oughta think about putting hot drinks up to the Den. Huh. Oughta see about keeping it open all day when we're snowed in. Assuming Chielyth can get up there, of course.