Rathan walks in from the Central Bowl.
Honey-blond tresses, sunstreaked with platinum highlights, tumble heavily to a spot just above her hips, although her hair is generally worn in a single thick plait down her back. Short in stature, girlish in appearance; nonetheless she has a look about her pale blue eyes that's old beyond her Turns. Set in a warmly tanned oval face, they remain her most striking feature, more for the odd gleam that lights them than for color or shape. Full lips are just a fraction too wide, quick to warm her distant expression with a genuine smile or merry laugh.
Linora has finally resigned herself to cooler weather and got some warmer clothing... Soft flowing skirts of deepest indigo flow over her hips and legs, hemmed just above her ankles. A thick woollen sweater, cableknit in a fisherfolk pattern and dyed a brilliant shade of lilac, covers her upper body from neck to hips, too-long sleeves often slipping down to cover her hands. And the final indignity, thick woollen socks and solid shoes of sturdy wherhide cover her feet - but rest assured they'll be kicked off at the first opportunity. Linora wears a tan wherhide jacket with a thick lining of llama fur, the hood all but obscuring her face. Perched on Linora's shoulder is Cami.
Red and silver, royal and black -- four cords form a single loop at her shoulder, with a small tail to denote her status as StarCraft Senior Apprentice posted to High Reaches Weyr.
Linora is 19 Turns, 7 months, and 14 days old.
A young man in his late teens. Red, straight hair falls across his face slightly covering one eye. He is constantly pushing it out of his face, but it never seems to want to stay there. Intensely examining everything around him are a pair of deep green eyes set into a face full of freckles. He has that tall, athletic build about him of one that is always on the go, but at the same time, a waryness of almost everything around him.
A simple neat, if not slightly worn grey tunic is tucked into an equally worn pair of black wherhide trousers. Thrown over his left shoulder is a light black cloak with a silver clasp. A pair of black boots finish off the outfit. Perched on Rathan's shoulder is Timothy. Perched on Rathan's shoulder is Turned-About Blue Hatchling.
He is awake and looks alert.
Rathan is 21 Turns, 8 months, and 13 days old.
Linora wanders down the stairs from the crafting area, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes and bumping into random (hopefully unoccupied) chairs on her way across the cavern. Somehow she makes it all the way to the hearth without any major incidents, where she stands for a few minutes warming her hands before ladling out a mug of steaming broth. Maybe she'll take a look around when she gets her eyes open.
Yumi grins as she watches the girl stumble to the hearth. Allowing her time to serve herself, she nods her greetings.
Rathan is content to just continuing sitting at the table he's at in the corner, slowing sipping his klah and really not paying attention to anyone around. Sharding cold weather, it's just not something that he's used to, which is obvious from the fact that every few minutes his body shivers as he huddles over the steaming mug. Why exactly is he here? And why isn't there anyone around that he knows? Oh well, first thing's first. Stay warm and stay out of the way.
Yumi quietly glances around the caverns. Noticing the shivering boy in the corner, she smiles. Walking over to him, she offers him one of her furs. "You look like you could use this."
Linora finally turns away from the hearth, cradling her mug in both hands and blowing the steam off it as her pale eyes flicker curiously around the cavern. Yumi's nod is spotted and returned with a bright smile, but it's the shape in the corner that makes her look twice. Well... maybe she's not awake yet? "Rathan?" Probably, if he's hiding in a corner.
Rathan looks up, his face showing his obviously startled state. Realizing he's being addressed he quickly shakes his head, too quickly in fact, and tries to slide down the bench further into the shadows. His mug still cupped in both hands, he goes back to leaning over it, practically staring into it. With all this, he doesn't even hear is name called from across the caverns.
the first thing you notice about her is the thin silver streak at her right temple in an otherwise jet black mane, falling to just below her waist. Her thundercloud gray eyes are framed by arched black brows and high cheekbones. Snow-white skin contrasts with her full, rosy lips. She has mischief in her eyes and a slightly square(stubborn) jaw. Although petit at 5'4, she has a well-proportioned body with a small waist that curves out to toned well-muscled legs. Yumi prefers to wrap herself in furs and leathers, especially after swimming in /cold/ water. Despite her icy appearance she has a warm heart and a ready laugh.
Yumi is comfortably warm in fitted ebony suede pants and black silk bodice loosely laced. On her feet she wears tall black wherhide boots. Yumi wears Yumi's Listening Tube around her neck.
She wears the purple and white knot of a healer apprentice, twined with thin ribbons of black and blue to show she is from High Reaches.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Yumi is 18 Turns, 5 months, and 2 days old.
Linora stops halfway to the corner table, unable to suppress a small giggle at the the little interchange. Yeah, that's Rathan, all right. "This corner's prolly the coldest spot in the caverns," she informs him as she sits right down across the table from him. "Y'oughtta sit closer t'the fire." Exactly as if it hasn't been ages since she saw him last, and where exactly /had/ he gone? She's not sure. "Whatcha doin' so far from the Hall anyhow?" Now she turns a faintly apologetic smile to Yumi, who seems to be still standing by the table with a fur in her hands. "Hey," she greets amiably.
Yumi smiles at the girl, fur still in her hands. Slowly she sets it on the table, "You might want it for later. Don't worry about returning it, I have a ton!" That said, with a nod to the boy and girl she turns on her heel toward the hearth to refresh her klah and wait for her mentor.
Rathan seems to sink even further into his mug as he realizes that not only does he have someone standing at the edge of the table, but someone else just sat down across from him. Why is it that he always seems to attract people, even when he tries his hardest to be invisible? Realizing the voice is familiar, he looks up. "Lin?" he whispers softly. When does he not whisper softly? "Hey there." His face actually breaks out into something that could be called a smile. As the girl and the end of the table starts to move off, he gives kinda a half wave and a mumbled, whispered thanks. In the meantime, all Lin's other questions seem to be missed.
Fyria sashays and shimmies her....self in from the Central Bowl.
Fyria bounds into the caverns, quite light on her feet and looking well, er, refreshed. "G'day, g'day..." She nods at the others even as she binds her damp hair behind into a loose runnertail. "Klah...hmm..." Klah is poured, and she turns around to lean against the table. Fingers waggle, and she grins. "What's up?" Merp. She doesn't know a soul here.
Linora seems to forget she asked them, herself, staring across the table at Rathan. "Hey," she returns quietly, chilled fingers clasping and unclasping around the mug, which she still hasn't had a sip from. "How ya been? You musta been workin' pretty hard and stuff... I don't think I've seen ya since ya went on that cruise." Her babbling is abruptly cut off by a yawn she can't quite suppress. "Sorry," she says quickly. "I just got up and stuff. I'm s'posed t'get upstairs soon t'start watching..." Pale eyes dart to the entrance. "Is it dark yet?" She might as well be asking Fyria, since she's suddenly looking at the girl. "Oh, hey." And a bright grin for the candidate!
Yumi nods to Fyria introducing herself to the Candidate. "I'm Yumi, I don't believe we've met"
Rathan almost grins at Linora, "You know me." Which probably means that he's been hidding somewhere just like he usually is. Both grin and words are quickly cut off though as /another/ person arrives. A hastey nod is given to the newest arrival before his attention returns to the oh so interesting mug. See, he was sociable, a little. "Work? Need help?" Watching is definatly something he can do, but most importantly, it's a quite, lonely thing to do. And as everyone knows, for him, that is a very good thing indeed.
Fyria nods her head at the trio, idly fingering her whip with one hand and holding her mug with the other. "Fyria. Former Messenger, current Candidate." With a stifled yawn, she saunters over to a chair and settles herself, one leg drawn up to rest on the edge. "Well met." She figures she should be doing some...Candidately thing...but, not yet.
Marp blinks in from ::between::!
Linora watches Fyria and her whip for a long moment before turning her eyes back to Rathan. Work. "Um... well..." She shrugs a little, her grin returning. "Didja learn how t'chart yet? The sky looks pretty different up here and stuff." She gulps down a good bit of her broth and gets to her feet. "It's kinda cold, though." Without waiting, she clatters back over to the hearth to refill her mug, and helps herself to a large piece of bread. "You prolly oughtta, anyhow," she calls over in afterthought. "Otherwise you'll just get set some other chore. How long you stayin'?"
Yumi grins at the Candidate, eyes drawn to the whip. Smile full of mischief, she asks, "What's the whip for?" Chuckling to herself, she takes another sip of her now cooling klah, grimacing at the cup.
Rathan tries to do just the opposite and not watch Fyria and her whip, in fact he actually seems to shirk away. Suprise, suprise. As she speaks though, he casts furrative glances her way. See, he's really listening. Looking back up at Linora, he watches her cross the caverns and waits for her return before he answers. "Well, kinda." he says quietly. "I don't know. There was a message at the hall that one of the uppers needed help and I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." All this said in a voice just barely above a whisper of course. The candie is still watched wairily thoughout.
Fyria blinks at the look she's getting, then glances down. "Oh..ahh..this?" Hand is quickly removed from the coil of black. "Err..protection, when I'm out on the road." Cough. "Single girl, lonely road...it can get a little dangerous." Is that a wicked gleam? Oh no. But hey, she is Danger Girl, no? Dark eyes stare at the others as she sips from her mug, then asks Yumi "Are you from the Reaches?" Idle talk, but it keeps her from doing chores a little longer.
Driftwood gives a graceful bob then disappears under the wave of ::between::!
Linora shrugs and takes a bite of bread. "That'd prolly be Keris," she guesses, once she's swallowed some of that mouthful. "Better bring that fur," she adds, giving Rathan a wicked little grin. "Stairs are over that way. I'll show ya the dorms too... just in case." She pauses then for another look. "You didn't bring much," she observes, then blithely continues, "Well, Keris'll prolly send someone for more stuff if you're stayin'." And that, apparently, is that--Linora starts off briskly for the stairs to the crafting area.
Yumi nods to Fyria again, still smiling. "Of course! I think I'm one of the only people in this cavern that's not shivering." Shrugging to herself, she wonders aloud, pushing her hair behind her ear, "Are you a resident or just passing through?"
Fyria blinks a bit at the girl, then oh's, realizing that as a Candidate, she might as well be from the Southern Continent. "Ah, yes...I'm a resident here, actually. ONly for a few months so far, though." She starts as someone enters the caverns...ah, close call. Not one of the riders. Leaning back, she grins. "I love it here so far." Cough. For...reasons.
Rathan slowly nods throughout Lin's whole spiel, still studying his mug in between quick sips and small shivers. Looking up, he realizes that he's being left behind and quickly jumps up from the table. Looking around, he tries to decide what to do with the mug before opting to take it with him. Grabbing the fur off the table, another mouthed thank you is offered the healer before he dashes off after Linora.
So many tunnels, so little time; you opt to head across the cavern and up the long broad stairs into the rooms above the lower caverns. Working rooms, these, filled with busy little crafters.
Taking a breath, you slip up the staircase and follow it as it becomes a series of steps and ladders from weyr to ledges, ledges to weyrs, and corridors all going up. Up up up!
With Thread in full swing and fall charts so common, this old sentinel is a bit of a charming antiquity, a monument to history: lichens eat at the stone in crevices not latey scrubbed, and firelizards perch in the unblinking socket of the Eye Rock. Only snow lands often on the broad, lower ledge, and only wind climbs the short stair to the top, but the view for the curious is worth it and more, as all the mountains of the Reaches' range spear the sky above, and the Weyr itself lays below, its ring of spires like some great titan's discarded crown.
It is a spring evening.
To the west, you see Cairhoth.
Balanced in the Eye Rock is Arson.
Rathan slips out of a small alcove, breathless.
Linora sets what's left of her breakfast in a little niche in the stone that's apparently been used for this purpose before, and draws her jacket more tightly around herself. "I don't know if it ever gets warm up here," she says wistfully, "but the view's nice." And indeed, it is a very clear night, dotted with millions of stars. She shrugs off her everpresent pack and settles down for viewing.
Rathan quickly pulls the borrowed fur tightly around himself as the first gusts of the fridgid wind whip around. Scurring across the stone, he settles down right next to her, being sure that he's on the proper side. See, perferct wind-screen. Maybe now it'll be a bit warmer. "Is it always this cold up here?" Freezing temps for a boy born and raised on Southern and living in Igen. Looking up, he nods slowly, even forgetting about the cold, if only briefly. "It's beautiful..."
Maybe Linora's getting used to the weather... or maybe it's the furlined hood that half-obscures her face... but she doesn't really seem to notice the cold. Pale eyes turned skyward, she settles in against Rathan, nodding absently. "Actually, it's warmer'n it's been," she murmurs. "On accounta we're well into spring and stuff now. I had t'sit up here all winter, too." And it's a safe bet that Keris didn't log a lot of hours up there with her. One hand reaches for her pack, sliding a notebook and writing tool out, which she arranges on her lap to make neat little notations. "It /is/ beautiful," she agrees quietly, sneaking a peek over at Rathan. "Not like home at all."
Rathan scoots close toward Linora as she settles against him. Anything for more warmth, of course. Slowly the shivering subsides as he gets lost in the sky. Blinking quickly, he looks down at her, "All winter? With snow and everything?" That's just all way beyond his meager comprehension. He has no problems with thinking better her than him. "You're right, it's nothing like home." But of course, home is special in it's own way. "So what exactly are you doing?"
Linora nods, murmuring a vague little affirmative as her hand continues the careful notations. "Well, when the snow's actually falling and stuff, then there's clouds over the stars. You just sweep it off when it's done. Or shovel it. Or set a blanket on top of it, if it's really deep and wet and heavy. But mostly it's windy up here an' stuff, so the snow don't stick much. Cold, though." Amazing that she can still work, babbling on like that. "Nobody's updated northern charts in Turns," she explains, the tool still scritching off little marks. "So I'm doin' 'em now. But the sky changes every season, so I gotta do a whole Turn's worth."
Rathan makes a face of disdain at the description of all the snow, and cold, and such. Just give him sun and sand and he's snug as a trundlebug. "It sounds awful," he whispers, watching her jot down notations in her book. "Sounds like a lot of work too. Lot of lonely work." Peering up once again, he watches for a moment. "You said Keris is here? What's he doing?" No doubt something warm and cozy.
"Right now?" Linora stops writing to grin at Rathan, noticing perhaps for the first time just how very close he is. Not that this is a bad thing, of course. It's freezing up here. "Prolly sleeping. Or poring over charts in the craft area." Or perhaps indulging some other obsession best left unmentioned by this mentee. Her hand is still on that writing tool, but she seems to have basically forgotten its existence, just looking at Rathan. "An' it ain't so bad," she adds in a whisper, her breath wisping away in steamy clouds. "I oughtta be done 'fore it gets real cold again."
"I bet you're thankful for that." Who could stand to spend another cold season up in this windy place. "Ah, lucky him," Keris that is. "How come he gets the easy job and leaves you up here all alone to freeze?" Probably because he's a Sr. Journeyman and she's not. Quite simple no? His gaze returns to her as his eyes meet her's. See, she's one of the few people he'll actually do that to. Doesn't she just feel so special?
Linora grins, perfectly happy to just look into Rathan's eyes for the moment. "Kinda," she agrees, her voice barely above a whisper. "Honest, I didn't think I'd make it through the first week!" She might be blushing a little, but it's probably hard to tell in this light. "An' he comes up once in a while, t'make sure I'm not makin' too much of a mess." She's exaggerating, of course. Her fingers fidget a bit with the writing tool, but she makes no move to resume her work.
Rathan smiles as he stares back at her. "I can only imagine. I'm freezeing up here and you said it's springtime." It might have something to do with the fact that he's not quite dressed for the weather here, but the borrowed fur is working nicely for now. His other stuff with no doubt be sent later. The sooner the better though. Grinning again, he teases her. "Knowing you, you'd need someone watching over your shoulder all the time. What with all the trouble you get into." His hand reaches up slowly to brush a couple of stray, wind-whipped strands of hair out of her face, his fingers just barely brushing her cheek.
"Hey!" Linora's protest is little better than half-hearted, though, and her pale eyes are dancing in the starlight. "I'm never in trouble." We won't talk about what sort of trouble she might be headed for, the way her cheek is tingling at his gentle touch. "An' it's not that cold... is it?"
Rathan knows absolutly nothing of trouble. Can you imagine him in trouble? His eyes dance though at the laughter veiled within as she tries to protest. "Of course you're not..." he says in a tone that says he's not inclined to believe her. "But I do belive you're right. It doesn't seem as cold as it was when I first came out here." He gives her another soft smile and another brush across her cheek, the wind blowing her hair about giving him ample excuses. When he begins again, his voice is soft, his words slow. "Guess the trick is to find something else to occupy your mind and then you won't notice the cold."
Oh, is /that/ the trick? Linora's cheek under his fingers is warmer by several degrees, thanks to a barely visible blush. Carefully, slowly, she puts her work aside, pale eyes still locked on Rathan's. "I really missed you," she whispers, edging just a bit closer. For warmth, of course.
Of course. And of course you don't see him complaining. Hand moves again as this time he opts to try to tuck the errant hair behind her ear. There, maybe it'll stay now. "I missed you too," he whispers as he wraps the other arm around her. "I know I wasn't around for a bit, and then when I was, I couldn't figure out what had happened to you or where you had gone..."
Linora slips her arms around him, under the fur, and lays her hooded head on his shoulder. "I... thought you left," she murmurs. "I heard the ship came back, an' other people came back t'the hall... " Her voice breaks off, and she just holds him tightly for a moment before drawing back to look at him... except she can't quite meet his gaze now. "After a while, it felt like I'd never get anyplace at all, so when this came up..." she shrugs a little and leaves the thought unfinished. It's obvious anyway, what she decided, since she's here.
Rathan shushes her. "It's not your fault. It's really mine." Yep, she's here now, but guess what, so is he. For how long still remains up in the air, but if he has anything to say about it, it'll be for a while. "The important thing is that I'm here now," he whispers. This time his hand goes to her cheek, not to brush hair out of her face, but instead to cup her cheek as he gazes down at her. "I'm sorry...."
Linora allows her gaze to be redirected, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "It's okay," she whispers, ready to forgive him just about anything. She hardly even notices the chill breeze across her face. "It's just... so nice t'see you." She shuts her eyes for a moment, then opens them again, a warm smile lighting her features as she realizes that, yes, he /is/ still there.
Yep, he's still here. But of course he could always run away if she wanted him to. He's really good at that. "No, it's not" he whispers softly. "But I'll let it drop. I promise it won't happen again though." His smile slowly returns at her words. "Awww, you couldn't have missed me that much. No one misses me that much." Mostly that's because no one ever notices when he is around, so how could they know when he's not?
Linora can't help a little giggle as she gives his words back to him. "Sure I did," she whispers, "But I'll let it drop." Because she always noticed when he was around. And she noticed a lot when he wasn't. Leaning closer, she pushes up onto her knees and steals a little kiss, looping her arms around his neck loosely. Her work? It's fine. The breeze isn't strong enough to actually blow her notes away. But she's not paying it much attention just at the moment.
Rathan laughs as he watches her. "Copier..." he begins, but is abruptly cut off as she leans in to kiss him. His eyes show his suprise at the move, but he remains where he is and amazingly doesn't bolt. Even as the redness rises in his cheeks, he leans forward to return the kiss, his hand still cupping her face. Her work is the furthest thing from his mind and as for the cold...what cold? His total focus right now is on her and nothing else on the planet.
Linora feels like she could go on kissing Rathan all night, maybe, savoring the taste and feel of his lips against hers just as long as possible before she draws back, breathless, her cheeks definitely quite pink now. "Thanks," she whispers at last, pale eyes locked on his as she slowly withdraws from the embrace. "I prolly oughtta..." She hesitates, glancing once at her notebook and then at the sky overhead. "There's prolly some charts I oughtta be workin' on." She slips her tools into her pack and gets to her feet, offering Rathan a hand. "Why don'tcha let me show ya the dorms and stuff," she offers, trying for something of her usual tone. "They're just downstairs?" She's not at all sure he won't bolt, but she's pretty sure he won't have a clue where to go without her--and she's dead sure that if Keris had picked a few moments earlier to check her progress, she'd be doing much more onerous work than updating charts. At least.
Rathan nods slowly as she draws back. For shame on him, interupting her work like that. He should know better than that. He declines to speak, unsure if he can really trust his own voice and instead watches the stones beneith his feet, waiting for her to finish and lead the way. His mind is working overtime and it's a pretty good bet that at least one of them won't be getting much sleep tonight. Too much to try and think about.
Slipping into the small alcove, you push open the heavy door and begin the long, /long/ climb back down into the weyr.