(no subject)
It is a winter morning of day 9, month 1, turn 23 of Interval 10.
Commons Cavern, Fort Weyr
Spacious but not as large as the living cavern, the commons serves as a communal gathering space for the Weyr's residents. Tables and chairs are arranged around the cavern, with some tall stools tucked up under a counter carved into the eastern wall. A motley collection of braided rugs in Fort colors overlap each other to cover the floor, while several large hangings blunt the chill of the stone walls. Niches carved up near the cavern's ceiling hold regularly spaced glows that are kept fresh weekly. The fire, perpetually lit in the hearth regardless of season, provides both warmth and additional light from behind the protective bulk of a large leather sofa and a pair of matching armchairs. Many residents settle here to work, study or socialize, at different times of the day, though it tends to be most active in the early evening.
The commons also serves as a hub to reach other parts of the Weyr: the nursery is located across from entrance to the resident's quarters and the corridor to the workrooms, with the lavatory situated between the two. The candidates' barracks and the classroom bracket the archway leading back out to the inner caverns.
Obvious exits:
Classroom Lavatory Out Workrooms Resident Quarters Candidate Barracks Nursery
What might be bluntness on Hattie's part somehow brings relief to Edela's expression, the girl's shoulders dripping lower and her smile slightly crooked. "Seein' as it'll be my second time standing, ma'am..." She'll leave the rest to a wave of her cutlery. "An' I'd like t' /think/ I ain't completely horrid, 'cept when I'm offendin' the weyrwoman with stupid questions." The grin hikes higher along with a slanted look of amusement. Hattie's seated in the corner with her tea, while Edela is standing and fiddling with an empty bowl and spoon; her back's to the duty roster and candidates are coming and going, checking in on their chores for the day.
"Second time... Well, I hope that there isn't a third time in your future, if you'll take that as good wishes and the hope that there'll be no need to Search you again," Hattie answers, inclining her head just a little again. She smirks in response to that grin, saying, "Trust me, you'll know when - if - you've really offended me," in a wry tone of voice, kicking her feet up onto the low table before her. "You don't seem completely horrid either, if that's any reassurance. Let's hope that there isn't a dragon that would want you to be." Her gaze briefly strays to the candidates checking the roster, smirk quirking again when one of them curses upon discovering their assignment.
When looking for Hattie, it's best to follow the work - or better yet, ask somebody if they've seen her. That's probably why a certain greenrider appears in one of the tunnels and cranes his head, half of a smile appearing when he spots one particular rider. Over he ambles, offering her a fairly cheerful, "Hey, been looking for you," only to have both smile and cheer disappear when he recognizes her companion. Edela gets a grunt that may or may not be interpretable as, "Good morning, it's so lovely to see you on this fine winter's day," along with a jerk of his chin. As an afterthought he adds, "Hey."
The candidate takes Hattie's good wishes and (questionable?) compliment with good grace, if some surprise; a spoon touched to her temple in a salute of sorts and another chuckle, hoarse, completes the gesture. "If it means anything comin' from me, which it probably don't, but y'don't seem like I expected a weyrwoman t'be like. 'S a good thing," she tacks on even as her eyes fix on B'kaiv and his grunt, instead. "'S /you/," she says with a touch of, perhaps, consternation. A look over one shoulder at that roster; Edela clinks spoon into bowl and she motions backward. "Should, uh, be gettin' to th' stores, ma'am. Dragonrider," she bids the greenrider, cheerfully polite despite what seems to be a hasty retreat. "Thanks for th' chat!" And she definitely heads to the stores, not the stables - though she might be found there, later that day.
The goldrider's focus drifts to just beyond Edela's shoulder, a silent, "Morning," mouthed to her clutchbrother. Hattie lifts her mug in place of a wave, or maybe as a toast of some kind in response to the candidate's sort-of salute, uttering, "Thank... you," in a bemused, halting way which covers both not being as expected and the chat, presumably. Once Edela has headed off to the Stores, Hattie nods at the chair beside her and crosses her legs at the ankle, enquiring, "Looking for me?" of Kai, curious, though not particularly chirpy this side of midday.
Narrowed eyes follow Edela off until she ducks behind a wider gentleman; after that he grunts again, satisfied, and drops into the Candidate's abandoned chair. "Yeah. Just wanted t' see what you're doing for lunch." He pauses there to narrow one eye at her, in a well-familiar 'you are eating lunch today, aren't you' silent statement. A jerk of his head after the departed Candidate and he adds, "Istan."
"I have no plans for it so far," Hattie replies, which could well be interpreted simply as having no plans beyond lunch happening sometime or no plans for any kind of lunch at all. She even narrows both eyes back at the greenrider, unrepentant, though then smirks again just a little bit before her features smooth back out. "I know. So we got one of theirs for one of ours. From the look of her, I hardly think she's plotting to rally the candidates behind whatever Ista's cause was and screw us over again."
"Yeah? Then you wanna eat with me? Chielyth...," he pauses to consult, but shakes his head, unsurprised, "ain't up yet. 'F you want t' wait, we can go out someplace. Boll, maybe. Or eat here, either way." He grins back at the smirk, stretching his arms up over his head. "Can't never tell, with Istans. How's Elaruth, any road? Glad them eggs ain't hers?"
Hattie nods a couple of times and drains the last of her tea. "I think I can manage that. Boll sounds good actually, if you're up for the trip?" She leans forward to set her cup down on the table, talking over her shoulder as she does. "Given timing, I'm very glad that it won't be Elaruth clutching. All that time on the Sands and in the galleries feels like my worst nightmare and that's just /imagining/ it," she mutters, shaking her head. "But she's okay. She's got two of Tilly's eggs to keep asking about as it is. Just going to let them go wild when they hatch. How about Chielyth?"
B'kaiv flips one dismissive hand. "Wouldn't'a said it if I ain't. Just got t' be back later for drills." He turns a considering eye on a pair of Candidates, but lets them pass without so much as a derogatory hmph. Back to Hattie with lifted eyebrows, "Yeah? What's wrong about it? Think it'd be something you'd want, keeping warm and all." At the news of firelizard eggs he glances around, but no one swarms them begging, so refocuses on his clutch sister. "She's good. Tilly got eggs? You think they're both gonna hatch?"
"I've got a couple of meetings scheduled for the afternoon, so between us I don't doubt we'll be back in time," the weyrwoman answers, relaxing a touch more into her chair, though a grimace claims her features for little more than a second just before she continues speaking. "I just figure that being a month or so off having this kid and being in that sharding heat all the time wouldn't be anybody's idea of a good time. Least of all me," Hattie admits more quietly. "Hopefully they'll hatch, yes. Kept them warm. I didn't find any others, if there were more. You want one?"
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.
She wears a pale green, fitted, half-sleeved shirt that reaches past her hips, faint and thin white stripes shot through the fabric every so often, stitching picked out in that same colour. A light, half-length jacket in black is worn over the top of it, almost a waistcoat save for its shape. Black leather boots lace over dark trousers to just below her knees, though reach a few inches past them, neat stitches and cuts made to allow freedom of movement. A sapphire pendant in the shape of a teardrop hangs from a silver chain around her neck, matching the three silver bracelets looped around her left wrist. At present, she looks to be in the second trimester of pregnancy. The knot at her shoulder is that of a junior weyrwoman of Fort.
B'kaiv barks out a laugh and plants his elbows on his knees, letting his hands hang. "Yeah? How you doing, any road?" with a nod to her increased middle. "You know if you need nothing, all you got t' do is ask, right?" Because 'nothing' isn't 'help', which she'd reflexively reject. "I'm kinda glad they ain't hers - Elaruth's - too, or Chielyth'd probably be all over us both wanting t' go see. She don't c-... nah, that ain't right. Peirith's eggs ain't important enough for her t' remember. If that makes sense. And shells, I dunno," he adds with half of a laugh and a shrug. "What'd I do with no firelizard, Hattie? Chielyth probably wants one, only it won't be able t' keep up with her."
"I'm... okay," Hattie decides, seemingly a honest answer. "It's difficult to think of the whole thing as anything more than a hindrance, but I'm reminded on occasion that it is, in fact, a baby. It kicks and everything." And still she talks about it like it's not quite real. The goldrider lifts a hand, meaning to touch it to Kai's arm. Maybe it's the phrasing or maybe just because it's him has her saying quietly, "I know," without actual protest. "I still remember the plan," she goes on, about eggs. "Chielyth, candidates, eggs and seeing. Whenever Elaruth has some next. Last time, Peirith's weyrlings were still in the barracks when it happened." She glances up to study her clutchmate's hair for a moment. "Firelizard hair accessory?" she jokes. "I get what you mean. And it might be upsetting if it couldn't keep up."
B'kaiv not only allows the touch, he lays his fingers atop hers for a wordless moment. Perhaps he's taking that assent, weak as it is, for boundless declarations, for he simply nods and moves on. "Good. She'll really like it. Seeing 'em. Just hope it don't upset Elaruth too much." There's a wry tilt of smile for 'last time's timing, which expands as the greenrider pats at his hair. "Yeah, maybe. Can't you just see some little green, hanging on for dear life? Have t' make tiny little straps for her so she don't get tore off or nothing."
For once, Hattie appears content to be silent and calm for a moment, which she is for the span of time in which his fingers rest atop hers. She's not even particularly sudden or loud with picking up the thread of conversation again, low, soft laughter preceding any words, though she says, "Hopefully she'll be calmer about the whole affair this time. She was still quite young then. We'll work it out somehow," thoughtfully. Laughter is then properly set free and she grins across the short distance between chairs. "Little helmet. Little goggles or visor, too. Stumbling round all dazed when they get back to the ground."
"She were real excited," Kai acknowledges, just as if Chielyth weren't /always/ 'real excited'. The hypothetical firelizard flight gear sets -him- chuckling, almost flat-out grinning and shaking his head across the way. "Or worse - she don't like nothing better, and don't do nothing but pester. Can just see it now." He straightens, wiping the smile away, and gives Hattie a sharp salute. "'Scuse me, Weyrleader, but my firelizard wants t' go flying. You got t' excuse us from drills. Yessir, no we missed them yesterday too. Nosir, she /really/ likes flying is all."
"You /would/ end up with a firelizard like that," Hattie accuses, smiling all the while. "And don't think I'm taking the blame for it," she jokes. "You'll have to find a stranger with a firelizard to blame." A hypothetical stranger for a hypothetical firelizard, of course. She sobers a little, head tilting when she asks, "How are things in that department anyway? With the Wing and the Weyrleader. I'm used to people being in my Wing one seven and gone the next, but you're getting through Wingleaders like there's no tomorrow. That's got to be... unsettling."
B'kaiv settles back in his chair, still shaking his head at the amusement of it all. "Yeah, or some brown as don't never want t' move. Big brown lump." He cups his hands around an invisible slumbering nothing, before tossing it into the air. Hazel eyes watch it go before they return to Hattie, amusement siphoning off into another shrug. "Dunno. Was telling people - this is th' fourth Wingleader we got since I been flying with 'em. D'kai, N'kan, R'lis, now T'kyn. I been thinking on asking C'ston if he'd take us in Jasper, but I figure I'll give T'kyn until summer t' see what happens first."
"I suppose that if it's a tolerable enough situation at the moment, it's worth sticking out to see what happens," Hattie says, a half-hearted grimace tugging at her lips and wrinkling her nose. "Of course, if it gets ridiculous, then that's another matter entirely. Surely /anyone/ has got to be better than R'lis, though? From what I've heard of him. He's lucky we haven't crossed paths too many times or I might have really told him what I think of him." She shrugs - makes herself shrug - in-case of irritation settling and taking root. "I guess the schedule suits Chielyth?"
"He ain't bad," Kai allows with another shrug. "But yeah. I didn't mind not drilling all th' time, but it were starting t' look bad. Got t' be something in the middle between drilling every sharding day and twice a month." Give him a moment, he'll think of what it is. "Yeah, for now. Until he decides t' drill in th' mornings." From Kai's tone, he thinks that will happen any day. "We can manage every so often, me and her, but don't want t' do it every day. She gets real cranky."
"It would have driven me mad," Hattie confesses, not that it can be much of a confession. "I'd have been making up my own sharding drills before long just to keep busy. If he decides to drill in the mornings... then yes, I'd think you'd have to go about looking into a transfer to another Wing, at least. There's no point in making life a misery for both of you, no matter how important drills are. You'd want to be /functioning/ well enough to do them, too." She snorts. "Times like this, I'm glad that I don't have to deal with all of it."
B'kaiv only snorts at her, lips curving again. "Mean you woulda just took over th' wing," he corrects. "T'kyn don't got t' worry about me doing that, any road. Dunno what he's gonna do with R'lis, though. --Send him t' Telgar," is only a touch wistful. "Or Ista." When he returns from this fanciful flight, it's to shake his head at the woman. "There's plenty else you got t' deal with. Suppose as we're lucky you didn't decide t' lead Obsidian your own self. Woulda had us all neck deep in Records, day in, day out."
Hattie nods and unashamedly agrees, "I would have," probably on both counts. "I don't think anyone would've let a weyrwoman lead a fighting wing, even with no Thread and no matter how much I argued for it, so I think you're safe." She throws a grin the greenrider's way. "For now. Unless you have a hidden desire to join Citrine." Looking out across the cavern, she follows a stray candidate's path for a little while. "Sometimes I can't believe I've been here so many turns. It's still not all that many, granted, but..."
B'kaiv only hahs at her. "Ain't no fighting going on. Tell 'em you're practicing in case something happens t' Cirse. Or Elaruth wants t' stretch her wings." He casts an eye at a woman passing by with a basket of yarn over one arm, dropping her a nod when she does so first. "Yeah, I know. Chielyth's nearly four. /Four/. Shells, seems like just a month ago I were worried about her being two, and ain't gone up yet."
"I know, but tradition and everything... And Elaruth, love for flying though she may have, keeping up with the smaller greens? Likely is not going to happen," Hattie answers dryly, stretching her arms high above her head. "The thing is.." she quietly admits, once she's dropped her arms and folded her hands in her lap. "...Sometimes it feels like it's only now that it feels like home. As though we had to go through all those awful things, all those turns, for it to become..." As ever, she's not great with expressing what she means when it comes to being emotional or anything /close/ to it. "Anyway. I should get on with the morning's hidework. I'll see you... out by the lake, to go for lunch?" the weyrwoman goes on, voice stronger as she stands and looks down at B'kaiv.
The greenrider hahs again for the thought. "Bronzes can't hardly keep up with em Hattie. S'why they got t' fly straight lines." While the greens get to swoop and zoom. He settles to consider Hattie and her words, head tilting to the side. "--Yeah? Dunno as I feel like that, but yeah. S'took a while t' settle in. Fort ain't Othana, not by a long road." He absently nods, distracted by this thought or some other, and settles back into the chair to frown at passers-by and give Candidates conniptions.
Pretty funny idea, kitting a firelizard out in tiny little straps. Bet Chielyth'd love it.
... Huh. Wonder what it'd be like, having one of them look to me?
Commons Cavern, Fort Weyr
Spacious but not as large as the living cavern, the commons serves as a communal gathering space for the Weyr's residents. Tables and chairs are arranged around the cavern, with some tall stools tucked up under a counter carved into the eastern wall. A motley collection of braided rugs in Fort colors overlap each other to cover the floor, while several large hangings blunt the chill of the stone walls. Niches carved up near the cavern's ceiling hold regularly spaced glows that are kept fresh weekly. The fire, perpetually lit in the hearth regardless of season, provides both warmth and additional light from behind the protective bulk of a large leather sofa and a pair of matching armchairs. Many residents settle here to work, study or socialize, at different times of the day, though it tends to be most active in the early evening.
The commons also serves as a hub to reach other parts of the Weyr: the nursery is located across from entrance to the resident's quarters and the corridor to the workrooms, with the lavatory situated between the two. The candidates' barracks and the classroom bracket the archway leading back out to the inner caverns.
Obvious exits:
Classroom Lavatory Out Workrooms Resident Quarters Candidate Barracks Nursery
What might be bluntness on Hattie's part somehow brings relief to Edela's expression, the girl's shoulders dripping lower and her smile slightly crooked. "Seein' as it'll be my second time standing, ma'am..." She'll leave the rest to a wave of her cutlery. "An' I'd like t' /think/ I ain't completely horrid, 'cept when I'm offendin' the weyrwoman with stupid questions." The grin hikes higher along with a slanted look of amusement. Hattie's seated in the corner with her tea, while Edela is standing and fiddling with an empty bowl and spoon; her back's to the duty roster and candidates are coming and going, checking in on their chores for the day.
"Second time... Well, I hope that there isn't a third time in your future, if you'll take that as good wishes and the hope that there'll be no need to Search you again," Hattie answers, inclining her head just a little again. She smirks in response to that grin, saying, "Trust me, you'll know when - if - you've really offended me," in a wry tone of voice, kicking her feet up onto the low table before her. "You don't seem completely horrid either, if that's any reassurance. Let's hope that there isn't a dragon that would want you to be." Her gaze briefly strays to the candidates checking the roster, smirk quirking again when one of them curses upon discovering their assignment.
When looking for Hattie, it's best to follow the work - or better yet, ask somebody if they've seen her. That's probably why a certain greenrider appears in one of the tunnels and cranes his head, half of a smile appearing when he spots one particular rider. Over he ambles, offering her a fairly cheerful, "Hey, been looking for you," only to have both smile and cheer disappear when he recognizes her companion. Edela gets a grunt that may or may not be interpretable as, "Good morning, it's so lovely to see you on this fine winter's day," along with a jerk of his chin. As an afterthought he adds, "Hey."
The candidate takes Hattie's good wishes and (questionable?) compliment with good grace, if some surprise; a spoon touched to her temple in a salute of sorts and another chuckle, hoarse, completes the gesture. "If it means anything comin' from me, which it probably don't, but y'don't seem like I expected a weyrwoman t'be like. 'S a good thing," she tacks on even as her eyes fix on B'kaiv and his grunt, instead. "'S /you/," she says with a touch of, perhaps, consternation. A look over one shoulder at that roster; Edela clinks spoon into bowl and she motions backward. "Should, uh, be gettin' to th' stores, ma'am. Dragonrider," she bids the greenrider, cheerfully polite despite what seems to be a hasty retreat. "Thanks for th' chat!" And she definitely heads to the stores, not the stables - though she might be found there, later that day.
The goldrider's focus drifts to just beyond Edela's shoulder, a silent, "Morning," mouthed to her clutchbrother. Hattie lifts her mug in place of a wave, or maybe as a toast of some kind in response to the candidate's sort-of salute, uttering, "Thank... you," in a bemused, halting way which covers both not being as expected and the chat, presumably. Once Edela has headed off to the Stores, Hattie nods at the chair beside her and crosses her legs at the ankle, enquiring, "Looking for me?" of Kai, curious, though not particularly chirpy this side of midday.
Narrowed eyes follow Edela off until she ducks behind a wider gentleman; after that he grunts again, satisfied, and drops into the Candidate's abandoned chair. "Yeah. Just wanted t' see what you're doing for lunch." He pauses there to narrow one eye at her, in a well-familiar 'you are eating lunch today, aren't you' silent statement. A jerk of his head after the departed Candidate and he adds, "Istan."
"I have no plans for it so far," Hattie replies, which could well be interpreted simply as having no plans beyond lunch happening sometime or no plans for any kind of lunch at all. She even narrows both eyes back at the greenrider, unrepentant, though then smirks again just a little bit before her features smooth back out. "I know. So we got one of theirs for one of ours. From the look of her, I hardly think she's plotting to rally the candidates behind whatever Ista's cause was and screw us over again."
"Yeah? Then you wanna eat with me? Chielyth...," he pauses to consult, but shakes his head, unsurprised, "ain't up yet. 'F you want t' wait, we can go out someplace. Boll, maybe. Or eat here, either way." He grins back at the smirk, stretching his arms up over his head. "Can't never tell, with Istans. How's Elaruth, any road? Glad them eggs ain't hers?"
Hattie nods a couple of times and drains the last of her tea. "I think I can manage that. Boll sounds good actually, if you're up for the trip?" She leans forward to set her cup down on the table, talking over her shoulder as she does. "Given timing, I'm very glad that it won't be Elaruth clutching. All that time on the Sands and in the galleries feels like my worst nightmare and that's just /imagining/ it," she mutters, shaking her head. "But she's okay. She's got two of Tilly's eggs to keep asking about as it is. Just going to let them go wild when they hatch. How about Chielyth?"
B'kaiv flips one dismissive hand. "Wouldn't'a said it if I ain't. Just got t' be back later for drills." He turns a considering eye on a pair of Candidates, but lets them pass without so much as a derogatory hmph. Back to Hattie with lifted eyebrows, "Yeah? What's wrong about it? Think it'd be something you'd want, keeping warm and all." At the news of firelizard eggs he glances around, but no one swarms them begging, so refocuses on his clutch sister. "She's good. Tilly got eggs? You think they're both gonna hatch?"
"I've got a couple of meetings scheduled for the afternoon, so between us I don't doubt we'll be back in time," the weyrwoman answers, relaxing a touch more into her chair, though a grimace claims her features for little more than a second just before she continues speaking. "I just figure that being a month or so off having this kid and being in that sharding heat all the time wouldn't be anybody's idea of a good time. Least of all me," Hattie admits more quietly. "Hopefully they'll hatch, yes. Kept them warm. I didn't find any others, if there were more. You want one?"
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.
She wears a pale green, fitted, half-sleeved shirt that reaches past her hips, faint and thin white stripes shot through the fabric every so often, stitching picked out in that same colour. A light, half-length jacket in black is worn over the top of it, almost a waistcoat save for its shape. Black leather boots lace over dark trousers to just below her knees, though reach a few inches past them, neat stitches and cuts made to allow freedom of movement. A sapphire pendant in the shape of a teardrop hangs from a silver chain around her neck, matching the three silver bracelets looped around her left wrist. At present, she looks to be in the second trimester of pregnancy. The knot at her shoulder is that of a junior weyrwoman of Fort.
B'kaiv barks out a laugh and plants his elbows on his knees, letting his hands hang. "Yeah? How you doing, any road?" with a nod to her increased middle. "You know if you need nothing, all you got t' do is ask, right?" Because 'nothing' isn't 'help', which she'd reflexively reject. "I'm kinda glad they ain't hers - Elaruth's - too, or Chielyth'd probably be all over us both wanting t' go see. She don't c-... nah, that ain't right. Peirith's eggs ain't important enough for her t' remember. If that makes sense. And shells, I dunno," he adds with half of a laugh and a shrug. "What'd I do with no firelizard, Hattie? Chielyth probably wants one, only it won't be able t' keep up with her."
"I'm... okay," Hattie decides, seemingly a honest answer. "It's difficult to think of the whole thing as anything more than a hindrance, but I'm reminded on occasion that it is, in fact, a baby. It kicks and everything." And still she talks about it like it's not quite real. The goldrider lifts a hand, meaning to touch it to Kai's arm. Maybe it's the phrasing or maybe just because it's him has her saying quietly, "I know," without actual protest. "I still remember the plan," she goes on, about eggs. "Chielyth, candidates, eggs and seeing. Whenever Elaruth has some next. Last time, Peirith's weyrlings were still in the barracks when it happened." She glances up to study her clutchmate's hair for a moment. "Firelizard hair accessory?" she jokes. "I get what you mean. And it might be upsetting if it couldn't keep up."
B'kaiv not only allows the touch, he lays his fingers atop hers for a wordless moment. Perhaps he's taking that assent, weak as it is, for boundless declarations, for he simply nods and moves on. "Good. She'll really like it. Seeing 'em. Just hope it don't upset Elaruth too much." There's a wry tilt of smile for 'last time's timing, which expands as the greenrider pats at his hair. "Yeah, maybe. Can't you just see some little green, hanging on for dear life? Have t' make tiny little straps for her so she don't get tore off or nothing."
For once, Hattie appears content to be silent and calm for a moment, which she is for the span of time in which his fingers rest atop hers. She's not even particularly sudden or loud with picking up the thread of conversation again, low, soft laughter preceding any words, though she says, "Hopefully she'll be calmer about the whole affair this time. She was still quite young then. We'll work it out somehow," thoughtfully. Laughter is then properly set free and she grins across the short distance between chairs. "Little helmet. Little goggles or visor, too. Stumbling round all dazed when they get back to the ground."
"She were real excited," Kai acknowledges, just as if Chielyth weren't /always/ 'real excited'. The hypothetical firelizard flight gear sets -him- chuckling, almost flat-out grinning and shaking his head across the way. "Or worse - she don't like nothing better, and don't do nothing but pester. Can just see it now." He straightens, wiping the smile away, and gives Hattie a sharp salute. "'Scuse me, Weyrleader, but my firelizard wants t' go flying. You got t' excuse us from drills. Yessir, no we missed them yesterday too. Nosir, she /really/ likes flying is all."
"You /would/ end up with a firelizard like that," Hattie accuses, smiling all the while. "And don't think I'm taking the blame for it," she jokes. "You'll have to find a stranger with a firelizard to blame." A hypothetical stranger for a hypothetical firelizard, of course. She sobers a little, head tilting when she asks, "How are things in that department anyway? With the Wing and the Weyrleader. I'm used to people being in my Wing one seven and gone the next, but you're getting through Wingleaders like there's no tomorrow. That's got to be... unsettling."
B'kaiv settles back in his chair, still shaking his head at the amusement of it all. "Yeah, or some brown as don't never want t' move. Big brown lump." He cups his hands around an invisible slumbering nothing, before tossing it into the air. Hazel eyes watch it go before they return to Hattie, amusement siphoning off into another shrug. "Dunno. Was telling people - this is th' fourth Wingleader we got since I been flying with 'em. D'kai, N'kan, R'lis, now T'kyn. I been thinking on asking C'ston if he'd take us in Jasper, but I figure I'll give T'kyn until summer t' see what happens first."
"I suppose that if it's a tolerable enough situation at the moment, it's worth sticking out to see what happens," Hattie says, a half-hearted grimace tugging at her lips and wrinkling her nose. "Of course, if it gets ridiculous, then that's another matter entirely. Surely /anyone/ has got to be better than R'lis, though? From what I've heard of him. He's lucky we haven't crossed paths too many times or I might have really told him what I think of him." She shrugs - makes herself shrug - in-case of irritation settling and taking root. "I guess the schedule suits Chielyth?"
"He ain't bad," Kai allows with another shrug. "But yeah. I didn't mind not drilling all th' time, but it were starting t' look bad. Got t' be something in the middle between drilling every sharding day and twice a month." Give him a moment, he'll think of what it is. "Yeah, for now. Until he decides t' drill in th' mornings." From Kai's tone, he thinks that will happen any day. "We can manage every so often, me and her, but don't want t' do it every day. She gets real cranky."
"It would have driven me mad," Hattie confesses, not that it can be much of a confession. "I'd have been making up my own sharding drills before long just to keep busy. If he decides to drill in the mornings... then yes, I'd think you'd have to go about looking into a transfer to another Wing, at least. There's no point in making life a misery for both of you, no matter how important drills are. You'd want to be /functioning/ well enough to do them, too." She snorts. "Times like this, I'm glad that I don't have to deal with all of it."
B'kaiv only snorts at her, lips curving again. "Mean you woulda just took over th' wing," he corrects. "T'kyn don't got t' worry about me doing that, any road. Dunno what he's gonna do with R'lis, though. --Send him t' Telgar," is only a touch wistful. "Or Ista." When he returns from this fanciful flight, it's to shake his head at the woman. "There's plenty else you got t' deal with. Suppose as we're lucky you didn't decide t' lead Obsidian your own self. Woulda had us all neck deep in Records, day in, day out."
Hattie nods and unashamedly agrees, "I would have," probably on both counts. "I don't think anyone would've let a weyrwoman lead a fighting wing, even with no Thread and no matter how much I argued for it, so I think you're safe." She throws a grin the greenrider's way. "For now. Unless you have a hidden desire to join Citrine." Looking out across the cavern, she follows a stray candidate's path for a little while. "Sometimes I can't believe I've been here so many turns. It's still not all that many, granted, but..."
B'kaiv only hahs at her. "Ain't no fighting going on. Tell 'em you're practicing in case something happens t' Cirse. Or Elaruth wants t' stretch her wings." He casts an eye at a woman passing by with a basket of yarn over one arm, dropping her a nod when she does so first. "Yeah, I know. Chielyth's nearly four. /Four/. Shells, seems like just a month ago I were worried about her being two, and ain't gone up yet."
"I know, but tradition and everything... And Elaruth, love for flying though she may have, keeping up with the smaller greens? Likely is not going to happen," Hattie answers dryly, stretching her arms high above her head. "The thing is.." she quietly admits, once she's dropped her arms and folded her hands in her lap. "...Sometimes it feels like it's only now that it feels like home. As though we had to go through all those awful things, all those turns, for it to become..." As ever, she's not great with expressing what she means when it comes to being emotional or anything /close/ to it. "Anyway. I should get on with the morning's hidework. I'll see you... out by the lake, to go for lunch?" the weyrwoman goes on, voice stronger as she stands and looks down at B'kaiv.
The greenrider hahs again for the thought. "Bronzes can't hardly keep up with em Hattie. S'why they got t' fly straight lines." While the greens get to swoop and zoom. He settles to consider Hattie and her words, head tilting to the side. "--Yeah? Dunno as I feel like that, but yeah. S'took a while t' settle in. Fort ain't Othana, not by a long road." He absently nods, distracted by this thought or some other, and settles back into the chair to frown at passers-by and give Candidates conniptions.
Pretty funny idea, kitting a firelizard out in tiny little straps. Bet Chielyth'd love it.
... Huh. Wonder what it'd be like, having one of them look to me?