A Long Day At High Reaches

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a spring before dawn.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are thirteen firelizards.
Green Yshanth, bronze Rixesith, blue Mzadith, gold Cadgwith, and green Alymath are here.
Kinecha is here.

Linora walks in.

Kinecha
Reaching a hight of almost 6 feet, this woman is taller than most. Her features are somewhat like those of a man, with hardened arm and leg muscels. Her blond hair, which is almost a stark white, has been cropped short and close to the scalp. Long brows arc over wide grayish green eyes with dark lashes. Her face and chin are angular and her nose is long and narrow with only a little bend at the middle, where it once was broken. On her right cheek is a 5-centimetre scar which runs just below her cheekbone. Her hands, with strong, long fingers, are callused and scarred. All in all, this woman is very masculine.
Kinecha wears a thick-clothed darkblue shirt over a thinner sleeveless gray shirt. When outside she wears a heavy leather jacket, old and soft from many Turns of use. Covering her legs are black trousers, wellworn and in need of patching in several places. Her leatherboots reaching halfway up her calfs, are lined with soft fur. Necha's Pack hangs heavily from Kinecha's shoulder. Perched on Kinecha's shoulder is Erzulie. Perched on Kinecha's shoulder is Simbi.
On her shoulder is a single loop, double corded knot in black and blue assigning her as a High Reaches Guard recruit.
Kinecha is 20 Turns, 9 months, and 15 days old.

Linora is looking a little lost, and more than a little cold.

Kinecha is leaning against a rock, looking up at the sky. She always /did/ like to look at a star-cluttered sky. Hearing footsteps she looks down and sees an unknown - to her - girl. "Morning," she says "you're out late?"

Linora blinks, surprised to hear a voice, then blinks again when she sees the person it came from. A bit belatedly, she remembers to smile. "Hi." A quick look around. "I guess so... I'm from the StarCraft, so I guess I keep kinda odd hours and stuff. I'm Linora." Trying not to stare too much.

Linora
Honey-blond hair, straight and shiny, falls just past her waist, although she generally wears it in a single thick braid down her back. Linora is petite, just a bit over 5' tall, curves just beginning to grace her slender form. Her once-bronze skin has faded to a lighter tan as her studies keep her away from the sun most days, although her serious eyes still appear startlingly light, a pale enough blue to almost be considered white.
She wears a simple cotton blouse, sleeveless, the tails tied in a knot at her waist, and a pair of loosely fitted tan trousers rolled up to just below her knees. A pair of knotted wherhide sandals protects her feet. Perched on Linora's shoulder is Spray.
She wears the knot of a StarCraft Apprentice.
Linora is 15 Turns, 7 months, and 15 days old.

"So are you her to stay, Linora," the guard recruit asks, pushing off the wall, looking the girl over. "I'm Kinecha, by the way." She doesn't think the girl would be staying long, by the look of her clothes. "You're a little lightly dressed," she states, motioning to the starry's clothes.

Linora hesitates a moment, not sure whether to nod or shake her head, and just shrugs instead. She /is/ cold, in fact her arms are still wrapped tightly around herself. "I didn't really know I was coming here," she admits, wondering if there's a polite way to get back to the cavern and the fire she knows is in there. "An' I didn't think I'd be here even /this/ long... but Kezz wanted to stay." Forgetting that Kinecha obviously wouldn't know who or what a Kezz was.

Kaslarna appears from ground weyr's overhung shadows.

Gigi appears from ground weyr's overhung shadows.

Kaslarna
Standing 5'8, Kaslarna seems to have reaches her final height. Pixie style brown hair frames the elven features of this girl. Her blue eyes sparkle with humour and her lips are curved in a friendly smile. Long legged and skinny, she matches her companion Gigi, the Southern Racer to perfection.
Kaslarna is dressed simply in contrasting colours. Her white shirt is plain with one padded shoulder for Pyxis to perch on. The shirt is tucked neatly into black trousers whose only decoration are a few embroidered leaves falling down her legs. Around her waist is a belt, from which hangs a belt knife and a variety of pouches. Black worn boots cover her feet, reaching up to her calves. Around her neck is a pale blue scarf, clasped by a dragon made of jade. Perched on Kaslarna's shoulder is Pyxis.
On her shoulder a simple blue and black knot signifies her as High Reaches Weyrfolk.
Kaslarna is 19 Turns, 11 months, and 24 days old.

Kaslarna emerges from the Ground Weyrs and smiles as she sees that she is not the only one awake. "Morning" she says quietly.

"Kezz?" Kinecha says, but shrugs and notices that the poor girl is shivering. "Want to go inside?" She notices Kaslarna come out and gives her a wave, before turning back to the starry. "There's hot klah, and, well, almost fresh rolls in there.

Linora nods eagerly to Kinecha, relieved to hear the word 'inside'. "Kezz is the journeywoman I came with," she explains quickly. "She's visiting Tatia... I kinda got dragged along." A quick nod to the other woman, trying to be polite, but so /cold/!

"Wanna come," Kinecha says to the other woman, who she faintly remembers meeting, but can't out a name to. "Linora here's not really dressed for a 'Reaches night." Even if it /is/ spring.

"Sure" Kaslarna replies. "It is a bit nippy. Oh, I'm Kaslarna by the way."

Kinecha moves purposefully to the Caverns.

Kaslarna walks to the Caverns.

Gigi walks to the Caverns.

Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are thirty firelizards.
You see Old Auntie sit-by-the-fire, OOC NOTICE (look sign), Boots, Hobbes, Generic Sign-Up Sheet, Kageri, and Gigi here.
Kinecha and Kaslarna are here.

Kinecha goes to the hearth and pours herslef a mug of klah,"want some klah, Linora? It'll put the heat back in you," she says, still holding the klah pitcher.

Linora moves directly to the hearth, standing as near as she possibly can, trying to rub some feeling back into her frozen fingers. At the mention of klah, she can't help wincing, but it'll be warm... "Okay," she says, a bit reluctantly. "Thanks, Kinecha."

Kinecha pours a mug and hands it to the cold girl, "how 'bout you Kaslarna, you want some?" "No thanks Kinecha, I'm still fairly warm.." She pulls three chairs closer to the hearth, reverses one and sits down. "Join me?" she asks

Linora holds the mug in both hands for a long moment, letting the steam come up to warm her face. Her back is to the fire now, and she's beginning to feel a bit more like herself, eyes darting around the unfamiliar cavern. At Kaslarna's words, her attention is returned to the women and she moves to sit in one of the chairs, smiling her thanks. Feels good to sit. Good to be warm.

Kinecha sets the pitcher back down and picks up some meatrolls before sitting down. She puts her mug down on the floor, and picks her young blue firelizard off her shoulder to place him in her lap. "So you know Tatia," she says to the starry. "I'd heard she was a StarCrafter before she was Searched..."

Linora nods to Kinecha, still cradling the mug in both hands and not sipping. "I'm kinda new to the hall and stuff, though, so I only met her /after/ she Impressed. She's been real nice to me and stuff." Lucky Lin; she's noticed Tat snapping at some of the other starries. Her eyes go to the blue on Kinecha's lap; she'd nearly forgotten how tiny baby flitlets are, and she can't help smiling at the little guy.

Kaslarna blinks as she returns from whatever land her mind was inhabiting and realises there is a conversation going on.

Kinecha breaks a meatroll in two and feeds one half to the blue and the other to the green on her shoulder. "You know, 'Zulie, you're being pampered," she mumbles to the lizard. She doesn't say anything about the 'incident' Tatia had been involved in, but reaches down for her mug and takes a sip. "How long've you been a StarCrafter then?"

Linora bites her lip, trying to remember. "Bout half a Turn, I guess... I dunno exactly." She turns the mug in her hands, finding a warm spot.

Kaslarna stretches back, yawning. "I think I'll head back to bed. I'm only up, cos that canine of mine wanted a walk. Bye." She rises, and with Gigi following at her heels, heads toward the Inner Caverns.

Kaslarna steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Gigi steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Kinecha nods slowly, "well, yes. Tatia would've Impressed then. I met her when she was a Candidate, you know?" Of course she didn't. How would she? "I came here 'bout the same time as the Candidates for Ysbryth's clutch."

Linora blinks, considering. Of course she kinda knows about dragons and stuff, but why does it seem like Kinecha's speaking a foreign language? Maybe she shoulda paid more attention to those teaching ballads as a kid... She manages a little smile. "Oh."

"Come to think of it," Kinecha muses as she leans back in her chair, still feeding those lizards of hers, and managing to take a sip of klah every now and then. "I was here when she clutched. Quite an experience, I tell ya." Now why is she suddenly being so open and honest with a total stranger? Very uncharacteristic of her. Maybe it's because she likely never see this girl again. "Who brought you here anyway?"

"P'rru, and brown Dsalth." Pleased to have remembered the names, Linora fervently hopes she managed to say it properly. "They took a bunch-a starries to Southern... we were s'posed ta see a new distanceviewer or something, but we kinda ended up just swimming with dolphins..." Well, that was fun, but she /was/ a little disappointed at missing the new observatory. Turning the mug in her hands again; it's not as warm as it was.

"Yeah," Kinecha says, turning her head to give the StarCrafter a smile. "P'rru very nice, and so's Dsalth." Even if the brown had almost drowned her when they went to Ista. "They were the first to give me a ride," she says. And they only ones, so far, come to think of it, she adds to herself. "Dolphins you say? You know, P'rru brough some of those 'phinCrafters up here not so long ago." Seems the 'rider had a thing for Crafters...

Linora nods, not really surprised to hear that from what she saw at Southern. "He had a dolphin journeywoman with 'im, Sarin, when he came to the Hall." A smile crosses her face briefly, she'd liked Sarin indeed. "Didja know they talk and stuff?" Lin hadn't.

"Who? Dragons?" Kinecha nods. "I know they talk to their riders, and sometimes to others if they choose. One of the dragons here sent images of cookies into /my/ head once." Excuse her for thinking about dragons and missing the fact that the girl was talking about dolphins. She takes another sip of klah and her eyes focuses on something that's not there. "It'd be great to have a lifemate...."

Linora blinks again. Well, she /is/ in a Weyr... guess folks are really fixated on dragons here. Not that they're not interesting, but... "Dolphins. They talk. P'rru said Dsalth could hear 'em too... an' they could 'hear' /him/." She can see Kinecha's not looking, and isn't sure she's listening either, but felt she ought to try to explain herself. She turns the now cold mug in her hands, guessing she's gonna have to drink it soon.

As the girl's words sink in, Kinecha's eyes grow bigger and she turns her head to look at her. "Dolphins /talk/? With real words, not like dragons talk to their riders?" This was certainly something new, something she'd never heard before. "I didn't know that. You heard 'em too, then?"

Linora nods, a grin coming to her face at the woman's reaction. She /was/ listening. "Uh-huh. They talk pretty good. I mean, I could understand 'em and stuff." Her eyes are sparkling, remembering how surprised she was herself.

Kinecha shakes her head and tries to imagine how dolphins would talk, but comes up short. She'd never known that any other animal could talk besides dragons. Using human-words that is. "And they understand what you say?"

Linora giggles. "Yeah. Pretty much everything." Turns the mug again, becoming habit now. "They like ta play."

"Sounds fun," Kinecha says, and changes the subject, "how do'ya like the Weyr? It's nice here don't ya think?" Necha certainly thinks so, after having been here for a Turn. Noticing that the girl hasn't touched her klah and thinking that she's still cold she says, "you know, there's the baths if you're still cold..."

Linora looks around the cavern again. "I guess it's nice," she says. "Colder'n I'm used to... but I'm okay by the fire." She looks down at the still-full mug, turning it in her hands again, and forces herself to take a sip. It costs her a bit of effort to swallow, wondering as she does so if it's actually worse cold than it is hot?

Kinecha /does/ notice the look on the crafter's face as she swallows the klah. "There're other bevarages if you don't like klah," she says nodding to the counter. Just tryin' to be the good host, right? Very un-Necha-like. She's usually a very she, close-in person, who doesn't talk a lot with strangers. "So this is your first time in the Weyr?"

Linora nods. "Well, yesterday afternoon, when we got here and stuff. I kinda saw Ista Weyr once, but I never been there." Her eyes follow Kinecha's to the counter before she glances down at her mug again. "Thanks... I kinda /don't/ like klah... much." At all.

Kinecha grins, shaking her head, wondering why she would drink klah if she didn't like it. "Never been to Ista myself," she says, "except the time P'rru took me down there." Didn't really like it too much, though. Far too hot for her, having spent her whole life travelling the North. "There's juices, cider, wine, lots of things to drink, and there're rolls too, if you're hungry." But she already said that when they came in, didn't she?

Kezzra walks with a light step, in from the Central Bowl.

Kinecha is sitting at the hearth, with Linora. As she hears footsteps she turns, and sees yet another stranger with a StarCraft knot. Did all these starries stay up at night? "Morning," she says and breaks up a meatroll to share between her two lizards.

Ilare moves with quiet, thoughtful grace in from the Central Bowl.

Ilare
A bright smile filled with warmth shines out from creamy skin, golden tan faded thanks to snow and cold. Oval face is framed by red-gold curls, recently trimmed short so that the tips of her mane stroke her cheeks and chin gently. Now, only her fringe occasionally obscures amber eyes light enough to be golden, bangs twisting slightly like spirals. Faded freckles are scattered across her nose and cheekbones, the final hints of childhood pudginess fading to the faintest hint. Not willowy - she'll never be that - but strongly built and sturdy, Ilare is as agile on her feet as a dragon midair. Having reached 5'6, she gives the impression of being taller through sheer presence and an insatiable friendliness she extends outwards. Alert and cheerful, her eyes seem to sparkle more since her Impression of Chanticoth, glowing almost bright gold when they're together.
A warm spring blue colours the silken cloth of Ilare's shirt, practical fabric held in place at the neckline by matching bright buttons. Long sleeves taper to small wrists, ending in delicately decorated cuffs. Hemline tucks neatly into trousers made of sturdy strong wher-hide, hued to a deeper, equally rich and warm shade of blue. Matching jacket, the same shade of blue as the trous, is layered for much needed warmth even in the spring, it's cut molding it comfortably to her form. Matching belt, with firm metal rings for the attachment of riding straps, is fastened 'round her waist. Knee high boots, also shaded bright blue, fit her comfortably, colour melting into the rest of the ensemble. A single blue band, flat and tied tightly, keeps her hair from flicking in her eyes while at work or in the air.
Double twisted cords, blackest midnight and royalty's blue, have been braided with a bright brandy-butter brown ribbon and fashioned into a single loop. A small tail, from which dangles two tassles, indicates this young brownrider's rank as Wingleader of the Sr. Weyrling Kamikaze Wing.
Ilare is 19 Turns and 1 day old.

Kezzra goes home.

Ilare is quiet as she enters, nodding to other riders or weyrfolk as she makes her way towards the weyrling wing table. Any familiar faces are nodded at, and non-familiar smiled charmingly at, but for the most part, Ilare's eyes are studying the hide before her.

Linora rouses herself to respond to Kinecha, tearing her eyes away from the hearth. "Oh, sorry... I guess I am a little hungry." Ought to be, she hasn't eaten since before leaving the hall the day before. "Did you say there was juice?"

Kinecha turns her head to see who it is coming in to the caverns. "Morning," she says as she recognizes the brownrider, and then gets up to refill her mug. Her lizards complain as they're unsettled, and she grins at them, "I'm just getting some klah, guys," she mumbles, and sit back down in front of the fire with her hot klah.

Ilare blinks, eyes darting from her hide, before she smiles at the guard. "Morning, Kinecha." Linora is smiled at - she doesn't /think/ they've met before.. - and the 'ling wingleader takes a seat at the table.

"This is Linora," Kinecha says, intoducing the girl, "she's a StarCrafter. P'rru brought her up from Southern yesterday. They'd been swimming with dolphins." She looks at the girl, hoping she got her information right.

Southern? Dolphins? Eyes glaze over and then a grin touches brown 'ling's lips. "Ah, Southern's nice. Chan says that the dolphins are.. interesting." Ilare blinks, then nods towards Linora. "Well met."

Linora nods. That's right. She smiles at the dragonrider, wondering if she just /ought/ to know her name.

Hyzen meekly steps in from the Central Bowl.

Hyzen
Glowing amber/gold embers flash brilliantly in the rounded face of this small weyr-child, hinting at truths untold and the mysteries and joys of being a kidlet. Short bangs decorate the high forehead then lengthen back into her usual ponytail, banded together with a small runner-clip. Pert little nose tips slightly up at the end and small mouth is usually pulled into a thoughful and reflective line. Gentle neck extends downwards, drawing ones eye onto the flat chest of a child and towards the jutting shoulders. Short arms, not showing anything in the department of muscles, lead unobtrusively into delicate hands... uncalloused and seemingly fragile, they do hold the almost unnoticable knobs of the paintbrush and stylus resting spots. Curving waist leads completely into legs, not stopping for the waist of which there doesn't seem to be... as is with most children. Resembling arms as much as is possible, her legs are also short and unmuscled to the eye. Small feet poke out from the ends of her legs, not highly noticable to one how only gives her the cursory glance as is common for the quiet and thoughtful.
Thickly knitted llama fur forms a deeply hued shirt of royal blue, converging gently around Hyzen's form. Long sleeved and high-necked for the heavy winters, there isn't much design to this article of clothing. Except... maybe, if you look close enough you might see the crafitly sewed designs that make up the whole shirt itself. Stitched into the right shoulder is a small badge with a slanted line the colors of High Reaches Weyr: blue and black. The pitch colored pants are held up by a thin, short-furred belt that combines both shirt and trousers. Cut to hang flowingly down the wearer's legs, form isn't really an option here. A crease moves down the middle of each leg until the cuffs, where black boots adorn the small feet. Not the kind to be called showy, they are sturdy and well fit for the work they do. Happily stuffed in his little pouch, wedge head poking out, is Phoenix. Simplistic line of a bright orange twist around the neck of Hyzen, the small though detailed mountain and firelizards proudly shown along with the loving words etched into the essance. A delicate flash of intricate twining shines from the slender finger of young Hyzen; thusly the shape of a hand-wrought ring.
Circling around and around, never ending like the bond that is shared between dragon and rider, are two brilliantly hued cords on Hyzen's left shoulder: a deep azure-blue and staring ebony-black. Meandering slowly, languidly, dancing and twining with the two colors is a third of proud emerald green, a ribbon worked into the two cords with delicate care. A small tassle is made up of the ends of the three colours, flapping gently 'pon shoulder's side, making it known her rank as High Reaches Sr. Weyrling Wingsecond of the fey green Imbriath. Hyzen is 17 Turns, 4 months, and 19 days old.

Ilare is just a 'rider. Nothing special. "Hey, Hyzen." is called, before she resumes study of her hides, reaching for a juice glass that managed to materialise within the space of a few moments.

Kinecha leans back in her chair, streching her legs out in front of her. "Never been to Southern, so I couldn't say anything about that," she says, although she suspects that it'd be too hot for her down there.

Hyzen walks in slowly, eyes cast in front of her and hands clasped behind. A nod and soft murmur of greeting is set Ilare way before the girl plops down into her chair at the wing table. Head is placed in hands and a strong mug of klah is ordered. "Whatcha doin'?" comes her words, directed lowly to her wingleader.

Ilare makes a slight face, smoothing out the hide before her. "Revising. Wing formations and the like." Y'know, the usual Wingleader-need-to-know stuffs. "How're you doin'? Not still mad at Cayl, are you?"

Desyana walks in from the Central Bowl.

Desyana
Her mahogany hair falls in soft curls to just past her shoulders and her sapphire blue eyes are rimmed with deep lashes of the same dark shade. Her complexion is soft and has a peachy tone to it. High carved cheekbones and a warm, lush mouth above a small pointed chin finish off an oval face. She stands about 5 ft., 5 inches; a little taller then most women. Her figure is well-rounded in a classic female shape, which she is pleased to note, drapes clothing well.
She wears a soft burnoose robe in a polished bronze color, falling to her midthigh. It is made of a tightly woven wool and is extremely warm. She is also wearing cream leggings of the same fabric and hide boot to her knees in a dark brown shade. A belt and pouch of the same shae finishe the outfit.
A plain blue and black knot, denoting High Reaches Weyr,is on her shoulder.
Desyana is 24 Turns, 8 months, and 25 days old.

Desyana straggles in and sighs, heading directly for the klah pot as if her life depends on it. Once a mug is poured and she has secureed a plate of rolls with butter, she looks a bout and notices new faces around her. "Oh Hullo.." Brilliant conversationalist before her klah, isn't she?

Linora draws her knees up to her chest and stares into the fire, confused by all the new faces and kinda wishing she was back home. She doesn't even know who to ask. A nearly full mug of cold klah dangles dangerously from one hand.

Isn't everyone? Although, admittedly, Ilare sticks to fruit juice unless it's very very cold. Or warm. Depends, really. "Morning," is returned, slight smile directed at Desyana, before the 'ling concentrates on her fellow wyerling and the hide before her.

Hyzen peeks one eye open to glance at the hides before it travels up to Ilare's face. "Hope you're having fun..." She has her own work, but she's laid it aside for now. Scratching her temple, she yawns widely before nodding a thanks to the drudge and sipping at the strong drink. "'m okay. Stayed up half the night cleaning and the like." Another yawn. "I am... slightly. But I'm beginning to think that might have been a really bad idea after what happened in my weyr." And a dark cloud seems to lower over her face.

Desyana shrugs at the lack of response and heads to a nearby table, stil stretching out her morning stiff muscles. Then, noticing the one younger woman along by the fire, she approaches her and smiles, "Hi.. You must be even newer here then I am. May I join you?"

Kinecha drains her mug and gets out off her chair, deposites the mug on a passing drudge's tray, and turns to the StarCrafter, "nice to meet you, Linora," she says and picks up her pack. "I hope you'll enjoy the rest of your stay with us." And with that Necha dissapears out of the cavern, with a wave to the rest of the people assembled here.

Ilare wrinkles her nose, sipping her juice as she listens. "Fun? Nah. It /is/ necessary though.. Don't want you and G'deon having to do all the work for me." A wink is given before she unfolds the next hide, only looking up in surprise at the darkness lingering in the usually cheerful green rider's tone. "Happened? What?" Confused just a wee bit, is Ilare.

Kinecha exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Linora manages a quick wave after Kinecha as the woman abruptly leaves, then turns toward the other woman who seems to be speaking to her. And smiles. "Sure," she says, indicating the two empty chairs next to hers. "An' I'm just visiting." Who knows for how long...

Desyana settles herself in and offers a roll. "Would you like some more klah?" Grabbing the mug from dangling hands and noticing the cold contents. "Unless you want it cold?

Felvis goes home.

Linora blushes. "I didn't really want it at all," she admits sheepishly, "but I was cold." She sets the mug down on the floor.

Hyzen chuckles softly as she takes another sip of her drink, sighing as it seems to revive her a bit more. "Oh, you do your job well enough so that we have more time than we should." Wink is returned, but that darkness still lingers. "Oh... remember that 'meeting'? Well, N'sync came in and despite your warning, he tried to kiss Tatia. She punched him... I'm sure you've seen his black eye? But he wouldn't stop and she finally left." Glower.

Desyana says, "And didn't you ask for a wrap or fur? There's plenty here. What sort of friend would bring you here and then abandon you like this.." Tsks, she's never been this 'nannyish'. "Are you still cold? I am sure I could find a blanket from the infirmary for you to cuddle in."

Ilare makes a face, shaking her head. "He /didn't/! Oh, shards, he's such a twit.." Ugh, can't she leave her friends alone for five minutes without N'sync doing something stupid. A pause, then.. "Tatia has a very good right hook." Snerk. Yes, she'd seen the black eye, and had wondered what happened.. Sipping her juice, she shakes her head. "But other than that, you all okay?"

G'deon quietly strides in from the Central Bowl.

Linora shrugs a bit. "I'm okay now, I been by the fire since I came in." A little smile at Desyana's mothering. "I kinda got dragged here with a journeywoman who wanted ta visit Tatia. An' we kinda fell asleep in her weyr last night, an' now I dunno where Kezz went." Never occurred to her to ask for anything warmer to wear, and nobody'd offered. "I'm Linora." Before she forgets to introduce herself. "Starcraft apprentice."

G'deon walks in briskly, nodding to those already in the caverns this early in the morning. He whistles a light tune, only a bit off key as if he's really not paying attention, and browses the selection set out for the early-risers. Snatching a fresh breadroll, he walks over to the other weyrlings, nodding with a grin to the others as well.

G'deon
G'deon appears at first glance to be quite calm and collected, though a mischievous gleam seems to tint his blue eyes from time to time. He has grown into a rather well built frame and stands at less than an inch under six feet. Many Turns of hard work have helped his shoulders fill out considerably, along with his arms and hands. His legs however are still the wiry limbs of his youth, which he'll never lose. Newly cut hair tops this young man's head, the short hairs glistening hazily, a sandy blond frame for a lightly tanned face accented by his calm blue eyes, clear and blue as the summer sky over High Reaches.
Grey is his shirt, like the morning fog rolling down from the mountains. Tawny, the trousers, like an old oak tree, paladin of the forest. Black are the boots, black, the belt, the deepest hour of midnight. Bronze, the buckles, silver, the knife, together an icy chorus. But be wary of that which is still concealed by more than just mere clothing. The human soul is more complex than what you picked out this morning.
Unwavering shadows intertwine with the deep dark blue of a glacier, the two cords forming a single loop. A small tail of the same black and blue hangs from the top of the knot, joined by a single tassel. Mingling with the cords is a fine ribbon of shimmering bronze, naming G'deon as a bronze senior weryling and wingsecond of High Reaches.
G'deon is 20 Turns, 8 months, and 19 days old.

Hyzen manages a smile at Ilare's words. "Oh, you know him. But he seemed to reach new limits that day." She slowly twists her mug about, watching the liquid in it swirl. "I kicked him out of my weyr..." trailing off, she gazes at Ilare as if to seek some comfort in that. She'd felt bad afterwards... she felt she had no right ordering someone so much older than her around. Bah. "Yeah, I'm okay." G'deon is noted and given a wide grin before a curious glance is sent Linora's way. Tatia, huh? Visitors were fun... she had one of her own. Beam

Cayl silently, suavely, glides in from the Central Bowl.

Ilare glances 'round at the whistling, and a warm smile is directed at the bronzer making his way over. "Morning, mate. Nylanth well?" Beam. They're friends again, see? Turning back to Hyzen, she smiles. "Well done! Only way to get rid of him." Yup. Beam! She's so proud! Cayl is waved at as she leans back in her chair, and sighs. Well, this hide can wait till later.

"Why, lovely morning to you as well, Ilare. Who are you two talking about?" G'deon asks Hyzen and Ilare, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He looks up just as Cayl enters and waves to her with a warm smile.

Desyana says, "Sorry, I'm Desyana.. but syan suits me well.. So, your 'stuck' here til Tatia wakes?" She shudders just a slight bit at that name. Not one of ehr favorite people at the weyr. But to each his/her own. "Mayhap you can find a nother ride home now that riders are waking."

Cayl strides into the caverns, looking her usual, dispondent self, a nervous little twitch at the corner of her cheek. "I swear, if just one more green rises..." She mutters beneath her breath as she alters her path towards Hyzen and Ilare, setting down at the table and dropping a stack of hides onto the top. Hand reaches up to rub already raw-red neck, as the other snags a hide and she tries to concentrate on it.

Linora gives Desyana a smile. "I don't think Tatia could take us home if she wanted to," she says wryly. She's heard enough to know the greenrider's been grounded. "We came with P'rru, and brown Dsalth, but I dunno where /they/ are, either." She glances at the rapidly filling weyrling table, scanning the faces there and not feeling particularly brave.

Snicker. "N'sync. Apparently, Tatia gave him that black eyes he's been sporting for the past little while." Shaking her head in amusement, Ilare sips her drink, nodding as a few of the other riders take a seat at the opposite end of the table. The pile of hides Cayl dumps on the table are given raised eyebrows, and head tilts, eyes questioning, in Cayl's direction. "Problems, Cayl?" Faint concern at the redness of her neck, the 'ling leader exchanges looks with the others.

Desyana looks about and nods, she knows one rider here actually and isn't sure of his status at the moment, and with all the others, isn't comfortable asking him. "I am sure there will be someone soo who can bring you back. There has to /some messengers going out"

G'deon nods at Ilare's explanation, though he concentrates on Cayl for the moment. "Aye, are you alright Cayl? You look a little... stressed out." The ex-smith strikes again, stating the obvious. "How's Mzadith doing?"

Hyzen finishes off her klah before pushing the mug away from her and folding her arms upon the table-top. Hunching over just slightly, she lets Ilare answer the question as searching eyes land upon Cayl. One brow raises slightly at the bluerider, but she says nothing more. Linora's words are heard and head tilts just the slightest to meet the other's gaze, a grin tickling the corners of her mouth. Still, again, she says nothing. Bravery leaks from the Weyr, maybe it will help the other to ask? Mwahahaha. Hy's not being very helpful today.

"Aaah, so /that's/ where N'sync got that black eye from.." Cayl says, returning Ilare's look with a gruff one of her own. "You know, you guys really /should/ be nicer to that boy. It's not like he asked to impress that randy brown of his." Defending N'sync? Oye. Cayl forces herself to stop rubbing at her neck, and instead ends up cracking her nuckles, one by one. G'deon is givin a stare before the weyrling shrugs. "He's grumpy /again/. Gets that way every time some green flies." It could be that Cayl's stubborn and skilled enough to keep him out of them, but.. "And so, what do I wake up today but Mzadith's grumbling, angry side. Seems T'urquose's little green decided to go proddy." Oh yes, she's willing to lay it all down on the table, it seems. Heedless of others watching the weyrling table.

Linora only nods, acknowledging Desyana's explanation, as her eye is caught by the youngest-looking rider. Was that a smile? She can't be sure, and certainly doesn't feel comfortable inserting herself in the conversation around the table, so she turns her eyes back to Desyana, managing to smile herself. "Prolly," she says finally. "Long as I can stay kinda warm, I don't mind hanging around a little while." Might be the only chance she'll ever have, after all. She bumps her chair a bit closer to the fire. Much better.

Desyana glances at the other table with all the riders and sighs. "That's fine. I could ask one of them for you, but feel free to stay as well. Are you sure you don't want a blanket or more hot klah then?"

"Ahhh," G'deon offers non-helpfully as he takes a seat with the other weyrlings and begins tearing apart his breadroll. "Well, considering greens rise almost every day at 'Reaches, I can see how that's been hard on you," he offers, head tilted slightly, though a cusious light touches his face. "But... why don't you let him chase? He's still young enough he probably wouldn't catch afterall... get it out of his system and all."

Linora shakes her head absently at Desyana's offer, being warm enough by the fire... one ear on the conversation across the room, hearing about half of it and understanding a bit less than /that/.

Ilare gives a nod, even as her eyes don't shift from watching her blue 'ling friend. "G'deon's right, perhaps if you let him chase, he'll find that it's not what he expected. He's not likely to catch, being young and all." Of course, she'd not got this sort of problem with Chanticoth yet, so she's not exactly talking from experience.. Making a face, she sips her wine again, hiding the grin as she goes back over Cayl's words about N'sync. No comments, though. Nuh uh.

"I am so glad Imbri's green..." Now does Hyzen speak, laughter sparkling in her eyes as she gazes at the other three-- male-dragonriders. "She may be rather flighty... but she's stayed on the ground, so to speak." Happy beam. No proddy Imbriath. That was going to be a scary day. This one has no advice for Cayl... being as young as she was and unknowing as she is. Shrugging lightly, finger tips idly play with the design upon the mug's side. Linora is given another look, but she seems happy so the young greenrider keeps herself content in her chair. No getting up. It was /nice/ to sit and be lazy for once.

Desyana says, "Well, at least have some food," pushing her plate over to the young woman. "And when Kezz does wander in and find you, make sure you let her know abandoning you here was /not/ polite, at the least!"

The woman rolls her eyes towards G'deon and shakes her head. "And what? Turn into some slave of -his- will? I swear, he's the most unpleasant thing at those..er..times." Images fleet through Cayl's normal Mzadith-loving mind, causing her to wince slightly and pop another nuckle. "And he's not incompetent, you know. He'd probably catch one just to spite me, he would." Taking a deep breath, relaxing her nerves, Cayl looks over to Hyzen and smiles quietly. "You're lucky then. Don't have to worry about this..what..every day?" Nevermind the fact that maybe if she /did/ let Mad chase after one or two, he wouldn't want to chase every day. She looks back to Ilare and arches her brow slightly. "You know, I should probably go appologize to N'sync for what Tatia did. That proddy greener really /shouldn't/ have hit him like that..." Someone lock her in her weyr. Pweeeze!

Ilare makes a face at Hyzen, shaking her head. "You," and now a finger points, "Are not helping." Not that Hyzen probably intended to be. Eyeroll. Looking back towards Cayl, she chuckles slightly, an eyebrow raising in answer. "Uhhh huh. I must say, why the sudden need to apologise on Tatia's behalf? She only gave him what he deserved - even he should know better than to make a pass at Tat." Especially after she'd chewed him out for terrorising Chancie and Ness. Feh.

G'deon nods to Hyzen sagely. "Aye, it does make it easier. Greens only rise, what, six times a Turn?" He turns back to Cayl, a confused expression flitting across his face before it disappears again. "I just meant he's still young," he finally replies, an amused grin on his face. "It takes a while to learn the ropes, so to say." At the mention of N'sync however he manages to hide whatever expression was about to make an appearance.

Linora willingly takes the plate from Desyana, helping herself to a bite and trying not to seem greedy, nevermind that she hasn't eaten since before leaving her crafthall the previous afternoon. Mouth full, she turns grateful eyes to the woman, nodding politely. Yeah, she /might/ have a talk with Kezz... if she never wants to get promoted.

Desyana whispers to Linora with a deep-throated chuckle.. "Fascinating conversation, isn't it? I was part of something like that once..." A sigh escapes her, "But that was over a long while ago. Now, I just listen and remember." Urges the plate on Linora, practically dropping it in her lap. "Here, take it.. I'll get another for myself.." And is up and over to the food sideboard before there can be a chance of protestation.

Hyzen gapes at Cayl, hands pausing in the twisting she'd taken up. "Apologize to him? For /what/, may I ask? He got what was coming to him!" Growl. But then something else dawns on the 'rider and eyes flick towards Ilare. Oh hoho. There goes that silent communication thing again. And G'deon gets a wide-eyed stare before a frown lights her face... teasing, of course. "And by then, when Imbri flies, your dragons will be old enough and strong enough." EVIL glitter. It's Imbri's fault... it all is. Don't look at her like that!

Linora is still trying to figure out Desyana's words when raised voices at the weyrling table attract her attention. She just can't help turning to look, even though she is still eating, and only has half an idea what they're talking about.

Slippa trots, the small beads in her hair tinkling merrily, in from the Central Bowl.

Ilare rolls her eyes. "So help me, Hyz, I'll hide outside the weyr the day Imbri rises." Making another face, she drinks more juice. Imbri may be green, but.. Hyzen's her friend! Shivering slightly, she reaches for a meatroll. And freezes, eyebrows vanishing into her hairline at the slight of.. "Slippa?"

Cayl gives a shrug of her shoulder. "So, he's an early bloomer. Doesn't mean he doesn't know what he's doing." Just what -was- G'deon implying? "Besides, we all know Mzadith's faster then a good 3rd of this weyr, and the rest are greens." Cayl now fumbles through the hides before shaking her head. "Shards, he's destracting." Who? What? When? Why? Ilare is givin a look that's almost a pout. "Probably just being effected by his dragon. Again, I say, not his fault. As you all should know." At Hyzen's words, the greenling is given a patent glare from Cayl. "You're /not/ helping." She says, matching Ilare's previous words. She stands up suddenly, heading towards the bowl. "Fine, If all of you are just so heartless, I'll go talk to him -myself-." She stops at the door, eyes unfocused, before growling. "What do you -mean- you don't know where they are? How could you lose him?" Cayl looks mildly crestfallen, particually self-righteous as she looks back at her fellows. "Any of you know where he is?"

G'deon arches an eyebrow in Hyzen's direction, an amused grin on his face. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" he replies to the green 'ling. Speaking of which... "Hello Slippa, good morning to you," he calls out in a chipper voice, raising a hand to wave the young woman over.

Pink, glorious pink! For surely that must be the only thing Slipps seems to be. Save for the lime green, of course. "Hey!" She grins cheerfully, bouncing in, smile almost as bright as her lime green sweater. "Morning, Gids, ..." So she's never called him that before. Something about these colors seems to make her... well, different. "Hiya, Ilare, Hyz, Cayl, everyone..." A bright pink braid's tucked back behind her ear as she slips into a chair, meatroll and klah in hand.

Ilare gapes. Pink. Leathers, Hair, all pink. Gape. "... Nice.. Um, look, Slippa." A vague smile is wafted her way, before head snaps round and she gives Cayl a dark look. "Hey, don't be like that! I know he can be a right twit, but still, he should be apologising, not Tat." She would continue, but Cayl's next words stall her and she gapes a moment.

Slippa
A tall, slender girl who has grown out of her teenage looks and into a more mature, adult look. Her hair's lost it's natural hazel-blonde - and has been replaced with a rather cutesy, but very bright, pink. The silky bright pink hair no longer cover her eyes, tied into thin plaits which cover her head, each one ending in a tiny green glass bead that jingle together, creating a merry tune. The green glass reflects the deep ocean green of her blue-flecked, mischief-filled eyes, with their long brown 'lashes and narrow arched eyebrows. Her nose is straight, with a snubby ski-jump at the end, above her small, pouted red mouth.
Slippa wears an outfit obviously picked out by her dragon - a pair of hot-pink leathers, shimmery bright and matching her hair, coupled with a silken shirt of the same hue. Over the top of it all she wears a long lime green sweater, which reaches down to her knees when she's standing. Feet are protected by a pair of shiny black knee-length boots, with hot pink laces. Perched on Slippa's shoulder is Klah.
Slippa wears a delicate gold and cream necklace -golden chain bewrapped by smooth cream-hued ribbon that shimmers delicately. Two charms are suspended on the necklace - one round, with a wineskin and a cup, t'other a small runner with heart-shaped blotches emblazoned across it's surface. Slippa wears a black woollen fur coat over her clothes, the black fur collar and cuffs snug around her neck and wrists respectively, while the furred hem brushes against her ankles loosely. It is open at the front, not yet buttoned up.
Slippa dons a knot of black and blue - with a double cord and a single loop, showing her to be a Senior Weyrling at High Reaches Weyr. A ribbon of apple-green threaded throughout denotes her as a green-rider - lifemate to green Zizth.
Slippa is 21 Turns, 1 month, and 26 days old.

Desyana returns to her seat by the starcrafter with another plate for herself and a fresh mug of klah. "Sure there's nothing more I can get you? There's plenty of whatever."

Linora just shakes her head, mouth too full to politely reply. Then her eye is caught by the flash of pink and she has to force herself not to stare, turning her attention to her quickly emptying plate.

Hyzen studies Ilare a moment, carefully before speaking again, quietly. "Yes... that might be a good idea..." A shudder of her own ripples along her small form as she shakes her head. Her friends... and most of 'em riding male dragons. Eesh. Cayl gets a long look as the other up and moves to the entrance. "/I/ don't know where he is... and I also think that you shouldn't meet with him alone." Or should she let the other go and see what comes of it? But that's bad, isn't it? Ilare and G'deon are giving pleading looks. N'sync was evil! Bronzer is given a masked look, studying before she turns away with her words: "Yup, just wait and see..." Softly said before she freezes, /staring/ at Slippa. "... Slippa?" Erf. That's... a site for sore eyes.

"You like, Ilare?" Slippa gives a sweeping glance at her outfit, grinning. "It's Zizth's idea. Can you tell? All by Zizth..." Not to mention the way she dyed that Weyrbrat's hair teal... Dye seems to be her thing lately. Nibbling on her meatroll, she curls up in the chair, tucking black boots under her, grin turned onto Hyzen. "What d'you think?"

Cayl stops as she sees...PINK. But doesn't seem too startled. She's seen it before. Instead, now she sees Slippa as a source of information. "Hey Slippa. You seen N'ysnc around?" Now that she has some sort of concrete purpose, she doesn't seem /as/ anxious. Or maybe she's just slowly cooling down. Or not. Ilare is given another stare. "Oh hush.. You like holding a grudge forever anyways, so leave N'sync and me alone.." She looks back to Slippa, eyeing in askance.

Desyana eyes widen at the 'pink and green' rider and looks quickly away. Interesting is a word that comes to mind, as do several others. casting a glance about, she nods to Linora.. "I haven't seen any others in that same mode of dres, I wouldn't worry too much while you are here."

Linora swallows and grins widely at Desyana. "Takes a lotta strange ta scare /me/," she informs the woman, her voice low but decisive. "You oughta see some-a the Starries." But it /is/ different, and Lin just can't help being curious...

Ilare gives a cough. "I beg your pardon?" She's given up on that grudge in case Cayl hasn't noticed, and G'deon is thrown a wink before she focuses on Slippa. "It's.. Pink. Very. Bright. I doubt anyone could mistake you for another rider." It'S /PINK/. *cringe* Not this brownling's favourite colour on Pern, but then, not everyone is as fond of blue clothing wise. Except perhaps her dragon. "It.. suits you." And that's not a lie either. Somehow, Slippa seems to pull off the pink look with style. Chanticoth would probably approve.

G'deon smiles warmly at Cayl and shrugs as that same smile falls upon Ilare. "Not forever, Cayl. If it helps though I think I saw him heading towards the pens..."

"N'ysnc? Nope. Not for a while..." Slippa tries to avoid the males. Well, almost all of them. Zizth's got a habit of 'knowing who's right'. Or, so the green thinks. "Zizth's got a very individual sense of style." Yes, that's an excuse. Almost. Kinda. Well, not really... but hey. "Besides, I like it."

Hyzen seems caught up in staring at her fellow greenling, lack of words written on her face as she just... gapes. She seems to do that a lot lately. "Well.. um..." Finally the words return to her and she clears her throat hastily. "It's... a new one, I have to admit. Um..." Giving a polite cough, she finishes: "It's you." Yes... skeery. Cayl is eyed thoughtfully as the information on N'sync's whereabouts are given. "Just be careful." Though, she's pretty sure Cayl can take care of herself... she's seen her in a tuff with Tatia.

"Well, as long as you like it, Slippa." And that's all that counts, right? Huffing a little at Cayl, she goes into one of those dragon-rider dazes, before rolling her left shoulder slightly, wincing at how stiff it feels. "Chan says Backstreeth was going to feed at the pens." Heh, her dragon gets along with the musically inclined other-brown. And she doesn't mind N'sync really..

G'deon scoots down a little more in his chair, his legs stretching out in front of him as he grins at Hyzen. "N'sync really /does/ mean well. He's just young. Cayl knows what she's doing." He pops the rest of his breadroll in his mouth and leans back even farther, arms crossed in back of his head as he just lounges. He grins at Slippa, finally taking in just what the women have been talking about. "Slippa, you're pink!" Again, stating the obvious. It's his role in life.

Cayl relaxes almost noticably, a smile even crossing her face as she stares back at G'deon. "Yes, finally! Thank you, G'ds." Hyzen is given a stare at before she shrugs her shoulders and stalks off. "I can handle myself." Except for maybe that mouth of her's in times like this. Minutes after she's disappeared around the corner, her nose pokes back around and she stares at Ilare. "Oh. Sorry about that....that other stuff. You know what I mean." Or maybe she didn't? Either way, Cayl's gone before she can explain.

Cayl shoos Aztek, who spreads his wings, shadowing the world with their golden, harsh gleam, and lifts quickly upwards.

Cayl exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Slippa smiles at G'deon. "Yup. How... observant of you, dear." She ruffles her hair, pulling it back from her face. Being pink hasn't made it more managable, for all it's in plaits, and it's in danger of dropping into her klah. Scoffing down the rest of the meatroll in an unlady-like way which would disgust Zizth, she grins, dusting crumbs from her lime sweater. "What's happening with Cayl? Why'd she leave like that?"

Linora sits with her now empty plate on her lap, having no idea what should be done with it. One eye goes back to the weyrling table and the pink rider...

Ilare stares after Cayl, mouthing the departed blue rider's words as she tries to figure out what the heck the other was on about. A shrug then, and eyes sweep room, table and fellow weyrlings. Before chuckling at G'deon. "What, you only just figured out what was different about her heair?" She pokes his arm teasingly, before her gaze settls on Slippa and she grins. "Oh, she wants to apologise to N'sync on Tatia's behalf.. Don't know what Tatia will think of that.."

No matter which way she turns, Hyzen can't seem to get the pink and green out of her periphreal vision. T'was bright! Handing her long empty mug to a passing drudge, she rocks her chair back onto two legs, one hand clinging to the table to keep from going over backwards. "/I'm/ young, G'deon... but I sure as shells don't act like that!" She gives a convulsive shiver. "Maybe I'm just seeing him wrong..." Yeah, right.

G'deon actually manages to look abashed at having missed what should have been obvious. To any other than him of course. He glances around the cavern before shrugging to himself. "As for young... I just meant he's still inexperienced enough to not have a clue what to do. So... he makes it up along the way."

Ilare laughs at that, eyes twinkling. "And I'm sure Backstreeth is more than happy to assist him." Head shakes, and the brown rider pours herself some more juice, expression turning thoughtful. "Well, regardless, N'sync is far more preferable to V'tor." Ick. Yuck. Anyone notice she's really not fond of that blue rider?

Desyana notices the empty plate and casually takes it from Linora. "Would you like any more? THis place seems to always have food around. Or almost anything else for that matter..."

Linora shakes her head. "No thanks. That was plenty." She gives Desyana a smile. "I oughta prolly go look for Kezz or something." Wondering how late it is and what she's missing at the hall... She gets to her feet, one hand still on the back of her chair, looking hesitantly around the cavern.

G'deon exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Sipping klah, Slippa just relaxes back into her chair, sighing. "I don't like any of them." Them being male riders. "'Cept for maybe Gids. He's nice." She chuckles as she makes a quick exchange with her dragon - "Yes, Ziz, pink /would/ suit him." No - she didn't speak that out loud. Or did she?

Desyana nods and places the now-empty plates back on the side table for the drudges to clear to the kitchen. "I wish I could help you there. Good luck on your search for her."

Ilare chokes on her drink, although whether it is at Slippa's comment (and you may pick which of them it might be) or her dragon's words, is unclear. "Uhh.." Oh, that is not good. Sitting straighter she exchanges a look with some of her fellow weyrlings. "Is it me, or is Cayl justified in being annoyed with mzadith at this time?" She certainly feeels sympathetic.

Hyzen casts a confused glance at Slippa as she allows her chair to come and rest 'gainst the floor again. Much safer this way, see? Linora's motions catch the greenrider's eye and she turns to look again at the other. A smile, visible this time, is cast before a groan escapes her lips. "It's not just you..." Imbriath's words are knifing through her mind, tattling on the blue.

Linora catches the young rider's smile and turns toward the table, emboldened... then hears the groan and stops in her tracks. Something's going on... she just has no idea what the riders are reacting to.

Slippa nods. "Well, he did try to eat Imbriath... didn't he? So I reckon she's allowed to be angry with him. I would be. But Zizth wouldn't eat another dragon... or even try to. Nope." She hopes. Though she might get nibbled upon... she does look a little like an over-sized, odd-shaped greenfruit.

Kinecha moves purposefully in from the Central Bowl.

Hyzen licks her lips as Imbriath continues to convey words and actions of Mzadith, first the annoyance and then the humour alighting her childish face. "Oh dear..." Muttered lowly before Linora's advance is noticed... and her halt. "Oh, it's okay..." Though confusing as the greenrider's words are, none of them are directed to any in the caverns except maybe Ilare. "Hello?" Now she's talking to Linora as a wider smile is offered.

Linora looks relieved as the rider's smile widens. Okay. She seems friendly enough. She steps a bit closer to the table. "Hi." A quick glance at the others still around the table; she really doesn't want to interrupt anything she shouldn't...

Ilare raises an eyebrow at the offhand words of Hyzen, before shrugging them off. Ah well, if she's supposed to be batted by sentences she doesn't understand, so be it. Linora is given a smile too, before the hide that was abandoned earlier is dragged back towards her. Hmm.. Now, where was she?

Desyana watch's Linora approach the rider, they really don't bite.. she knows.. she had a green herself one... But that was another life, another weyr..

Kinecha wonders what kind of conversation she walked in on /this/ time. It seems to her that most of the people she left here a few hours ago are still here, including the starcrafter. She goes to the hearth to pour herself a mug of klah, and then takes a seat near the others.

Hyzen loves confusing Ilare... that's her job. But she doesn't expound on her wording as more words and brilliant images flood her mind. Biting back the laughter at the latest vision of what Imbri thinks Mzadith looks like, she looks up at Linora. "'lo..." Again, a greeting before she goes on. "I heard you talking about getting home... if you're needing it, I can offer a ride." A faint blush settles her features as she remembers to introduce herself. "Hyzen, rider of green Imbriath."

Ilare isn't often easily confused, but some things leave her completely stumped - especially when she's being distracted mentally. And to think all she wanted to do was have some food, klah and read some notes in the living caverns? Ah well..

Desyana smiles and nods... see, not so bad at all.. just need to be a bit bolder then the girl had been. Seeing that she is in decent hands, she herself stands and head off to the baths, but not without a fareweel to the starrie.. "Good-bye Linora, come visit again if you get the chance and look me up"

Linora can't hide her relief as she fixes a wide grin on the 'rider... Hyzen. "Well met, Hyzen." More formal than her usual speech, but maybe she's still just a bit in awe. "I'm Linora, StarCraft apprentice... and I'd be /so/ grateful ifya could get me back to the hall." Her eyes turn hopeful. "I can't find the journeyman I came with, but maybe if... Imbriath... " hesitating only a bit on the dragon's name... "could get a message to Tatia? It'd be okay?"

Desyana steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Kinecha smiles at the StarCrafter, "so you're going home to Ista," she says, nodding to her, "hope you liked your stay here?"

Hyzen chuckles as she glances towards Ilare and Slippa before gazing back up at the other. "Well met, Linora. And welcome to High Reaches..." Even though she's leaving. Bah, poor girl's distracted slightly. Shaking auburn tressed head, she tugs on her jerkin. "Imbri could tell Vespurath that you're in need of a ride. She's awake now..." Trailing off, she requests it of her dragon, smile still upon her pale lips.

Linora turns, surprised to hear Kinecha's voice since she hadn't noticed the woman returning. "It was ... very nice, thanks." She smiles. Well, yes... but she'll be glad to get home. At Hyzen's words, she blinks a bit. "I thought Vespurath couldn't leave the Weyr?" Or maybe she'd heard wrong.

Twiddling a loose hot pink braid, Slippa just sits quietly, smiling into space, half-listening to the snippets her dragon sends her about dragons eating dragons, and half-listening to the people around her. She does mumble something which seems like an introduction and general 'hello' to Linora, but it's more to be polite. She's got other things on her mind....

Hyzen sighs softly as she stands, dusting herself off before giving the other a wide grin. "I was just making sure..." Sometimes things got filtered around her, you see. Giving Ilare and Slippa a nod, she slowly heads towards the entrance, gazing out at the dragons. "I have time... I could take you now, if you want. Or is there someone else that needs to go too?" Gazing back towards Linora, she waits patiently. Any reason to get her green away from Mzadith in his present state.

Linora is torn now, she really has no idea where Kezz has gone. For all she knows, the journeywoman has already gone back to the hall without her. "Please, I'd really like ta go home... not that I don't like it here, but..." She shrugs. "I dunno if Kezz is still here, but Tatia should." Tatia oughtta be able to make sure Kezz gets home, yeah.

Hyzen exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Linora blinks and quickly follows Hyzen outside, taking the rider's abrupt exit as permission granted.

Bundle up 'gainst snow or sun! The bowl is open to seasons' wrath.

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a spring midmorning.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are fourteen firelizards.
Green Yshanth, bronze Rixesith, gold Cadgwith, green Alymath, brown Chanticoth, green Imbriath, blue Mzadith, and green Zizth are here.
You see a wagonmaster, Cattysaur, Box, and Dustina here.
You notice Ryern asleep here.
Hyzen is here.

Linora quickly follows Hyzen out to the bowl, trying not to shiver in the cool air; she's just not used to not being warm, being Ista-bred and all. "Thanks so much," she breathes as she catches up to the rider.

Imbriath warbles happily as she's saved by her rider appearing, marching out from behind Chanticoth, she makes sure that Mzadith is a good distance away. Terror of a blue, is he. Hyzen smiles widely as her green nears, reaching out a hand for the extended muzzle. "Linora, this is Imbriath. Imbri, this is Linora, a Starcrafter like Caelestis." Beam. Greenling croons softly as she eyes the other, whuffling. Smelled different than her Caelestis. But that was okay. "Her straps are all ready, just step on up and sit on the back part of the saddle." Imbriath lifts a foreleg, waiting as she keeps a sharp eye on Mzadith. He might try to taste her while she was busy. Zizth gets an eyewhirl in her direction... traitor!

Zizth snorts at Imbriath. Hey, she'd rather not have a icky blue dragon's drool on her... she'd just trying to get Mzadith away from her...

Linora giggles as Imbriath's warm breath tickles her. "Hello, Imbriath," she says, as politely as she can manage. "Thank you for taking me home." Okay, the green hasn't actually /done/ it yet, but she's going to, and Lin doesn't want to forget. Reaching for the straps, she scrambles up. Won't be cold much longer!

You step gently upon the proffered limb, grab the straps, and haul yourself up Imbriath's hide and into a seat protected by two streamed ridges.

Imbriath [Central Bowl]
Over hill, over dale, through bush, through brier; over park, over pale, through flood, through fire: midsummer green wanders everywhere, swifter than a moon's sphere to illuminate the mercurial elegance of this fey green. Emerald shadows dapple her dreamy hide, kissing the curvy sweep of her rump and tail, and freckling her underbelly with elven gold, while foxfire spins its tricksy fancies in amongst the thicket of her crafty 'ridges. Like love, every shift in hue from pixie's head to laughing tailtip savours the effervescence of her puckish frame, and creeps down to hide in the acorn cups of her earthy paws. Moonlight tangles in the wild forests of her wingsails, even as tomfoolery spangles the starlight sheen of her whirling eyes.
Washing 'longst gorgeous absinthe neck are a splash of foam creamy straps; tumbling down from the small saddle perched betwixt the fourth and fifth 'ridges. Like the sweet milk given from a bovine, the rich colour of the two neck straps meld with the dragon that wears them. Inticately stitched, length by length, are grasping and gracious fingers of the terreverte ivy vine. Etched with the pure and undiluted thread of green, they seem to creep swiftly down Imbriath's neck and to hug about her strong chest.
Hanging precariously onto one of Imbriath's neckridges is Nauvoo.
Imbriath seems to be listening.

Hyzen, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.

Hyzen mounts in front of Linora, chuckling softly as she does so. "Imbri says your welcome." Snapping herself in, she turns in the saddle and makes sure the other is ready. "All set? Are the straps too tight or too lose?" Wouldn't do to lose Linora in the depths of /between/ now. That'd be horrible. Rechecking her own straps, she hangs on as Imbri moves away from the Cavern's entrance and into the bowl where she had space. "Let's go then!" And away they launch!

You take off.

Above the Bowl
The ocean's tranquil thermals settle within the center section of the bowl's airspace, unusually smooth and bouyant -- though oft to switch as the seasons shift. Lingering beneath spires' constant presence, the perpetual activity of the weyr can be observed from every direction: from the testing rustle of dragonet wings, to the playful games sent aloft.
It is a spring midmorning.

Wind caresses wings and and pinions as you circle higher and higher up out of the caldera.

Above High Reaches
Quite, quite high, nothing braves these heights but stone and dragon and cloud; the Star Stones jut dutifully above the Weyr proper, flayed by the mountain winds that are consistant at this altitude whilst the rest spreads below, protected by its crown of jagged stone spires'-teeth.

Linora just has time to get a grip before the ground disappears beneath them. Never going to get used to that, nope. Now holding her breath, bracing herself for the colder cold of between... just a bit longer, then she'll be warm again...

Hyzen glances back before giving the /between/ signal...

Imbriath warbles softly as she prepares for the inevitable leap into the rigid coldness and nothingness, slipping easily into the domain of ::between::!

:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and count...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...

Above Gar
You soar high above the grassy plains of Gar. From here you can see the hold itself, nestled in the outcrop of a cliff face, and vast fields of farmland and grazing lands. Herds of animals roam the fields, under the watchful eye of Gar herders.
In the courtyard below, you see one person.

Imbriath abruptly appears from that no-where, bugling loudly as the freezing winds of ::between:: follow her.

You glide down for a landing.

Gar Hold CourtYard
You stand on the porch of Gar Hold. Just inside you can see the elegant, yet simple design of this burgeoning hold. Outside, you have a beautiful view of the hold valley. Large trees line the trail here, creating a nice canopy of shade for the weiry traveller. A couple of paths diverge from the hold to follow their own paths. Each path is set with red brick cobblestone. Flower Beds line the porch creating a nice feeling of returning home. Several rockers, a bench or two, and a swing can be found on the porch, for those who wish to come out and enjoy the beauty of nature.
Cress is here.

Cress
Standing at only 5'5 this young man's size is not impressive. His blond hair, which has resently been cut short at the back and the front, is the color of wheat, has bleached strands, and he has a light tan from the sun, even if he doesn't spend many hours outside. Narrow gray eyes are framed by light-colored lashes and brows, and his cheekbones are angular as is his chin. His muscles are hardened, from long hours of hard work, done in his previous life as a trader. A scar runs along the right side of his neck and his most obvious feature is a missing inch of his right little finger.
A brand new midnightblue shirt with draw-strings at the V-neck is worn loosely over charcoal-colored trouser, which are hardly new by the look of them. Having been patched in several places these trousers look as if they've been handed down for generations. A shine on his black wherhide boots doesn't hide the fact that these are also hand-downs from someone who's grown out of them. Perched on Cress's shoulder is Dixie. Cress' Pack hangs heavily from Cress's shoulder. Perched on Cress's shoulder is Wintermute.
Red and silver in a double cord and single loop appoints him as apprentice to the Star Craft.
Cress is 19 Turns and 2 days old.

Cress looks up as a dragon suddenly appears fron :between::. Getting up from his position on the porch, he can't keep his eyes from the dragon as she lands.

Linora waves to Cress, beaming. "Hi!" She quickly loosens the straps around her and gets ready to climb down. "Lin?" Cress says, not having expecting her to drop in on him on a dragon. "Where've you been?"

Imbriath circles slowly down, bugling loudly as she comes to a soft thump of a landing in the courtyard. Head lowers slightly before sniffing in Cress's direction, curious. Oooh... why'd people smell so different from each other? She just couldn't figure it out. Neck arches as she turns her head, watching Linora dismount as wings swing out of the way. Must not bump the wings, there. That'd hurt the person. Hyzen grins widely as she watches Linora unstrap, nodding a greeting to Cress as she does so.

You glance towards the ground, then grab some conviniantly placed straps and lower yourself to the lifted forelimb of Imbriath's and finally to the ground.

"Morning," Cress says to the rider, still staring at the dragon. After all, this was only the second time he'd been this close to one of those great creatures.

Linora can barely contain her excitement. "A bunch of appies went to Southern yesterday ta see a new observatory... I got ta swim with /dolphins/... an' then Kezz went to visit Tatia at 'Reaches and I just had ta go with her." Only one dragon, and he was going home, you know. It's all she can do not to throw her arms around him, she's so excited and so happy to see him. But...

Hyzen, glancing towards the ground far below, slipes down the smooth hide of Imbriath and towards the ground with help of lifted paw.

Cress gives her a halfsmile, and even as he's watching the dragon, his eyes goes far away as he thinks of 'Reaches. "You went to 'Reaches," he mumbles. "You sure get to see things, don't ya?" So he's a little jealous. Can you blame him?

Hyzen slipes down the creamy straps after Linora was safely to the ground, hugging the proffered muzzle of her lifemate before gazing at the two, a huge smile on her face. She speaks naught for now, willing to listen quietly as she enjoys the warmth of Gar. Greenling stays put, muzzle still encircled with one small arm as slowly whirling optics turn on the male and female starries. Just like her Caelestis. Warble. Hyz's face takes on a look of surprise at some thought of said dragon, eyes slowly studying Cress. Silent still... she'll wait. She's enjoying the sun and keeping her dragon in sight.

Linora blinks. Now she doesn't know /what/ to say. She hadn't expected him to react quite like that. "I guess..." Now he mentioned it, she /has/ been kinda lucky lately... and he /does/ seem to never be around at the right times to share it. Biting her lip, she turns her eyes to the flagstones.

"Well, you know. I missed ya," Cress says after a while, "it was my Turnday yesterday." And he would /really/ have liked to spend it with her. But then she'd just run off to Southern and then 'Reaches... Of course, he couldn't be mad at her for long and he sends her a smile.

Linora looks back up, unable to hide her delight at having been missed, even if she's sorry for making him worry. It's not as if she meant to. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "It just kinda happened." She glances back at dragon and rider, finally remembering her manners. "This is Imbriath, and her rider, Hyzen." Tripping a bit over the formality, but conscious of the respect due the dragon. "Hyzen, Imbriath... this is Cress. He's a starry apprentice too..." Her smile turns soft. "And my best friend."

Cress nods to the pair, "Hyzen, Imbriath. Nice to meet ya," he says politely, and smiles at Lin's presentation. Yeah, she's /his/ best friend too.

Imbriath rumbles lowly, eyes whirling blue and green as she, too, listens to the conversation. See? She'd known! Hyzen looks doubly surprised, slowly scratching the underside of her dragon's chin, which in turn gets a deep croon from the green. Pinions ruffle happily before head is moved out of the way. Hyzen takes a few steps forward, smile still upon her face. "Well met, StarCraft Apprentice Cress. Happy belated Turnday." A nudge from wedge head makes the girl take a balancing step forward. "Imbri would like to know... if she could give you a gift?" Embarrassed now... her dragon always thought of these things before she did! Didn't help that the young green could touch other's minds and hear their topmost thoughts.

Linora blinks. A gift? She regards the green thoughtfully for a moment, then turns her face to Cress to see what he'll say.

"A gift," Cress repeats and glances at Lin, "what kind of gift?" Not that he wouldn't accept any kind of gift a dragon could give him. After all, it would have to be something special, right?

"Imbriath seems to have the... the thought that you've never ridden a-dragonback. She'd like to take you for a short..." and short is stressed for the green's sake, not the man's, "ride. I'd offer longer, but as I'm sure you've heard, we're under rather strict orders for a time." A slight blush hints her cheeks as she watches Cress's face for a reaction. Her dragon was so outgoing sometimes... thankfully this was a good thing right now. Imbri scoots closer, whuffling at Cress the same way she'd whuffled at Linora. Hee.

Linora's eyes widen. How had Imbriath known? She hadn't said a word... then she has to stifle a giggle as Cress gets a dragon-whuffle. Fun.

Cress stumbles backward, his jaw dropped as the dragon whuffles him and he hears the rider's words. A ride? On a dragon? His eyes seek out Lin's, after all she's tried this, right? More than once. "N-no, I h'haven't been a-dragonback before," he manages to stutter to the rider. "H'how does she know?" The thought that the dragon knows what he's thinking unsettles him more than the thought of getting a ride on her.

Imbriath's eyes whirl slightly faster as the man stumbles back from her whuffling. She didn't scare him did she? She's not that big and... well... scary! Wings ruffle against her sides as she again nudges Hyzen, trying to get her 'rider to make it alright. That's what she was there for, anyways! Beaming proudly, the girl 'rider places a finger along-side her nose. "Trade secret." She couldn't help but tease them just a slight bit. Allowed dragons to keep their mystery about them. "So, you would like to then?" And a hand waves towards the dangling straps and the saddle perched in between her dragon's 'ridges. "She won't hurt you..." Imbri manages to look innocent, her expression easily reading 'who, me?'.

Cress nods enthusiaticly. Of course he would! Who would say no to a dragonride, after all. "Yeah, that'd be... That'd be.." He can't finish the sentence as he has nothing to compare a dragonride to, and he grin at Lin, his eyes sparkling with expectation.

Linora beams back at Cress. "You'll love it," she says. "An' I'll be right there too," a quick glance at Hyzen, "if it's okay with you and Imbriath?" After all, she's done it before, and she'd really like to be able to reassure her friend.

Hyzen claps her hands together, laughing bubbling out of her lips as she turns to the young green. "Just step on her forepaw there..." and Imbriath raises said portion, humming softly as she watches, "grap those straps," finger moves from paw to the lowered straps just right for grabbing and hauling. "And settle yourself in the saddle. I'll mount in front of you and..." Glance to Linora, along with a smile, "Linora'll ride in back. Unless you'd like to be in front?" Doesn't matter to her... there are enough straps to go around no matter where anyone sits.

Cress gives a sigh of relief. He'd hoped that Lin would be there. Although, he would've still gone without her. This was too big an opportunity to give up even if she wasn't going. Cress shakes his head at the thought of riding in front. "I think I'll be fine behind you, Hyzen..."

Linora doesn't object to the seating arrangements at all, and quickly scrambles up to the rearmost set of straps. You step gently upon the proffered limb, grab the straps, and haul yourself up Imbriath's hide and into a seat protected by two streamed ridges.

Imbriath [Gar Hold CourtYard]
Over hill, over dale, through bush, through brier; over park, over pale, through flood, through fire: midsummer green wanders everywhere, swifter than a moon's sphere to illuminate the mercurial elegance of this fey green. Emerald shadows dapple her dreamy hide, kissing the curvy sweep of her rump and tail, and freckling her underbelly with elven gold, while foxfire spins its tricksy fancies in amongst the thicket of her crafty 'ridges. Like love, every shift in hue from pixie's head to laughing tailtip savours the effervescence of her puckish frame, and creeps down to hide in the acorn cups of her earthy paws. Moonlight tangles in the wild forests of her wingsails, even as tomfoolery spangles the starlight sheen of her whirling eyes.
Washing 'longst gorgeous absinthe neck are a splash of foam creamy straps; tumbling down from the small saddle perched betwixt the fourth and fifth 'ridges. Like the sweet milk given from a bovine, the rich colour of the two neck straps meld with the dragon that wears them. Inticately stitched, length by length, are grasping and gracious fingers of the terreverte ivy vine. Etched with the pure and undiluted thread of green, they seem to creep swiftly down Imbriath's neck and to hug about her strong chest.
Hanging precariously onto one of Imbriath's neckridges is Nauvoo.
Imbriath seems to be listening.

Cress, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.

Hyzen, with the kindly help of a delicate forelimb, manages to pull themself up Imbriath's straps and betwixt ridges of star-kissed emerald.

Linora shifts a bit to let Cress get settled, glad of an excuse to slip her arms around his waist. Security, you see. Wouldn't want to get lost :between:...

You take off.

Above Gar
You soar high above the grassy plains of Gar. From here you can see the hold itself, nestled in the outcrop of a cliff face, and vast fields of farmland and grazing lands. Herds of animals roam the fields, under the watchful eye of Gar herders.

Cress smiles as he feels Lin's arms around him and he cranes his neck around to look at her. He gives a a yelp as they take off, surprise at seeing the Hold from above.

Hyzen mounts in front, straping in and making sure everyone was ready before telling her green to launch. Powerful hindlegs propel her upwards, wings taking the three powerful downstrokes before she levels out into flight. Giggling, Hyz turns her head to wink at the other two behind her. "Is there a certain place you'd like to visit? Remember, we can't stay long and landing I'd rather not do... Otherwise, anywhere you want to go!"

Linora nudges Cress a bit. She's already seen the stuff /she/ wanted to see... she just hopes he won't pick anyplace too awfully /cold/...

"Go?" Cress hadn't thought that he would actually get to decide where to go. "Well, you know, we used to travel a lot in the north, so anywhere up there would do," he finally says, having to almost yell over the wind. His eyes are still on the ground as he's unable to tear his eyes away from the sight down there.

Whatever Cress said, Lin didnít hear itÖ

Hyzen ponders a moment before shrugging lightly... she could deal with that. Mwah! Tugging her straps to make sure they're nice and tight, she has Imbri fly higher. "We're going /between/!" comes her warning call before the green flicks into the darkness of the frigid nothingness...

Imbriath warbles softly as she prepares for the inevitable leap into the rigid coldness and nothingness, slipping easily into the domain of ::between::!

:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and count...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...

Above High Reaches
Quite, quite high, nothing braves these heights but stone and dragon and cloud; the Star Stones jut dutifully above the Weyr proper, flayed by the mountain winds that are consistant at this altitude whilst the rest spreads below, protected by its crown of jagged stone spires'-teeth.

Imbriath abruptly appears from that no-where, bugling loudly as the freezing winds of ::between:: follow her.

Linora is still cold, even though she can hear the wind rushing again and knows they're not between. She stifles a small sigh and snuggles a bit closer into Cress's back for whatever warmth she can get, and opens her eyes. Reaches. Didn't she just /leave/ here? But she can't help smiling, thinking how happy he'll be.

Cress hardly even managed to take a breath before going ::between::, but as they come out, he lets out what's left. Now /that/ was cold! Like nothing he's ever experienced before. Looking down her sees that they've been transported to a different place and gasp for air.

Hyzen breaths heavily as she arrives above the Weyr... if Cress had only seen a few dragons, then a Weyr full of them might give him something to brag about. Glancing back, she gives an apologetic smile to Linora... the poor person looked aboslutely frozen. Fumbling in her carry pouch strapped to the saddle, she pulls out two thick, llama-fur lined jackets as Imbriath slowly flies lower, passing ledges of sunning dragons and gaping maws of weyrs. Passing the two items back, she chuckles. "Awful cold here! This is High Reaches Weyr, Cress." Shouted so that the two could catch /something/ of what she says.

You abandon the view from high above the bowl and circle lower, passing the Spires and Star Stones on the way down.

Above the Bowl
The ocean's tranquil thermals settle within the center section of the bowl's airspace, unusually smooth and bouyant -- though oft to switch as the seasons shift. Lingering beneath spires' constant presence, the perpetual activity of the weyr can be observed from every direction: from the testing rustle of dragonet wings, to the playful games sent aloft.

Linora dares to release her hold long enough to take one of the jackets, shrugging into it gratefully... if carefully - they /are/ still pretty high up - and taking a firm hold on the riding straps to give Cress a little room to do the same.

"High Reaches," Cress repeats under his breath, pulling on the jacket, trying not to drop it before he gets it on. Looking down he sees the Weyr spread out beneath them and takes another deep -/cold/ - breath. How wonderful to feel the cold again.

Imbriath flaps her wings a few times, staying aloft as she soars over the pens... then the lake. Anyone for a swim? Wishing some fun... and in a place where she can have it... she turns sharply and circles that way-- vertically. Evil dragon. Used to such things, nevertheless, Hyzen rebukes the green's antics sharply. She had two inexperiance riders with her... no losing them! Imbriath settles back into straight flight... for now.

Cress almost screams as the dragon drops, but manages to change it to a yell. His knuckles turn white as the hold on tightly to the ridingstraps.

Linora gasps at the unexpected close-up view of the lake from such a crazy angle, involuntarily wrapping her arms back around Cress for security.

Imbriath rumbles playfully as she flies back to the brink of the StarStones, circles slowly as she moves out of their range. She'd heard the scream/yell from Cress and the gasp from Linora. Oh, but she didn't even show them what she can really do! Dispite Hyzen's warning to be nice, the young green flies further up than the 'Stones themselves. Another circle... slowly before wings are tucked tightly to her side and she /dives/ towards the bowl's ground! Hyzen lets out a startled yelp as she clings to the straps-- and closer and closer does the ground come! "IMBRI!" EVIL green! At the last moment, wings flare open with a harsh snap and the dragon settles almost daintily to the ground of the Central bowl, wings furling to her body and head twisting around to eye her 'riders. Wasn't that just -great-?! Flushed... Hyz turns to her 'riders. "I.. um... I have to go. Yes." And have a nice long talk with her dragon. "Do you mind staying a little longer?" She hopes not...

Wings tired? Or you just want to feel solid earth beneath your paws...

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.

Cress, glancing towards the ground far below, slipes down the smooth hide of Imbriath and towards the ground with help of lifted paw.

Zizth takes off.

Pale and shaken, Linora can't answer right away. "Um.. sure.." And manages to loosen her straps and climb down.

Above, Zizth circles leisurely towards the lake.

Linora hits the ground a bit unsteadily. She's never experienced a landing like that one before and didn't like it much. And she's cold again. And who's going to take them home? Big eyes scan the bowl and she pulls the jacket more tightly around herself.

Cress' legs almost buckle as he gets off the dragon, and he leans against the green shoulder for awhile, trying to regain his balance. That was some kind of ride, that was. Looking at Lin's face he suspects that his own is just as pale. "You okay Lin?" he asks even though he should ask himself the same question.

Linora nods slowly. Yeah, nothing's broken. "So... um... this is High Reaches." Not a question, she just spent the last whole day here.

Above, Nylanth takes off from Nylanth's ledge.

Cress nods, and pushes off the dragon's shoulder, the function of his knees regained. "Yeah," he says and does turns around himself, sniffing at the air, enjoying being in a place where it's not /hot/.

Above, Nylanth glides off towards the pens.

Linora is freezing, although it's a bit better now that someone thought to give her a jacket. Wrapping her arms around herself and tucking her hands inside the jacket, she stands silently watching Cress. He looks different to her somehow, at home in a way he wasn't before... she almost feels like she doesn't know him.

Dima walks to the Caverns.

Cress' smile has spread, and he seems to have forgotten the drastic landing. "I love this weather," he says and then sees poor Lin, shivering even in the thick jacket. "It's not really /that/ cold, is it, Lin?" But then he feels a cold wind and starts shivering himself. Could it be that he's no longer used to the cold?

Linora manages a halfsmile at the question. Yes, it is. It /is/. At least she isn't wet... but is he actually shivering, too? Not in those heavy boots and trousers? A wide grin spreads across her face. "We might as well go inside or something," she suggests. Since it looks like they're not leaving anytime soon.

Inside? Yeah, inside would probably be a good idea, though Cress /should/ be able to handle this weather. Or maybe it's just the cold of ::between:: lingering. "I guess I could do with some hot klah," he says. They'd have to have klah here, right?

Ayana steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Mzadith trip, skip, lumbers ackwardly to the Pens.

Linora makes a bit of a face. Klah. "Sure," she says. He can have it all. "The cavern's over that way." Well, she was just here. Still shivering, she waits a moment more for him to come with her.

Cress follows Lin as she seems to know where she's going. Didn't she say she'd been here? Everything had happened so fast.

Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are thirty firelizards.
Kinecha and Jayra are here.

Cress moves slowly in from the Central Bowl.

Linora enters with her borrowed jacket wrapped tightly around herself, still shivering from the long walk across the bowl. Looking up she spots Kinecha, and gives the woman a sheepish smile. Back again, so soon... And heads for the hearth.

Kinecha looks up and sees the StarCrafter come in again, this time with another stranger. "I thought you left," she says, softly, as not to scare the girl.

Linora sighs. "I thought I did, too." Almost got home, really she did. "Kinecha, this is my friend Cress... he's a starry apprentice too. Imbriath offered him a ride for his Turnday... an' then Hyzen had ta leave and we're both kinda just ... here... again." Until they can find someone else to take them home. A nod for Jayra, whom she doesn't know.

Jayra
Jayra stands around five and a half feet tall. Her skin is slightly tanned, brushed over with deeper colored freckles. Her eyes are a soft blue, that much resemble a clear summer sky. Her chocalate brown hair is cropped into a short 'boyish' style. Her mouth is firmset and rarely curls up into a grin. Her cheecks and skin are nonetheless soft and feminine. He hands are long and slender, but her nails are practically cut down to nubs. She has and overall boyish look to her.
The boyish style remains true. Her clothing is all baggy to hide any hint of a female figure. She wears a whiteshirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. A pair of black pants stop just above a pair of sandaled feet. Her outfit finishes off with a leather vest, lefy untied so as not to fit tightly around her body and reveal anything feminine.
Jayra is 14 Turns and 27 days old.

Jayra stands up slowly, brushing herself off. "Sorry, but I'm gonna go find something useful to put myself to."

Jayra steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Cress follows Lin to the hearth where he spots a pot of klah. He pours a mug for himself and holds the it between his freezing hands. "This place is big," he mumbles, turning around looking at the cavern. He nods to the woman Lin intoduced him to, "hello, Kinecha," he says and then gives the other girl a nod. "Nice to meet ya," he says to he as she leaves.

"Cress," Kinecha repeats and nods to the starry. "So you're up here for you Turnday, eh? Funny, I got a ride down south on /my/ Turnday." She leans back in her chair, looking at the two starries. "Seem like there're a lot of apprentices coming to the Weyr at the moment..."

Linora doesn't know how she feels about that statement, since she particularly feels like she's got no business being in the Weyr at all.. not this time. She swallows hard and moves a bit closer to the fire.

Cress follows Lin back to the fire, and shrugs out of the heavy jacket. Too warm to wear inside, so he finds a chair and puts it over the back of it. Yeah, he was gonna like to stay here for a while. It hasn't even crossed his mind that they weren't supposed to be here.

Kinecha tilts her head, wondering what she might have said to make the two apprentices flee from her. She wasn't /that/ scary was she?

Linora sits right down on the hearthstones, still in the jacket, not yet feeling warm enough to relinquish it. Her mind is working, wondering how they'll get back, who they can ask... she seems to have forgotten completely that there's anyone else in the room at all.

Cress bends down to place his mug on the floor and then sits down in front of Linora. He picks up his mug again and holds it between his hands, and occationally takes a sip. Looking at Lin, he sees that worried look on her face again. "What's wrong, Lin?" To him this was just one big adventure, and it still hasn't occured to him how much trouble they could get into.

Kinecha decides that this is none of her business, and involves herself in the treatment of her lizards. Since they both seemed to have had enough to eat, she takes to scratching the blue's eyeridges instead, while the green is asleep on the table, beside an empty plate.

Linora looks up at Cress with big eyes. "I dunno how we're gonna get /back/." Like that should have been obvious. "I mean, it's not like when I was here with Kezz." At the back of her mind, unsaid, is that there are other, warmer places she'd rather be, if she's gonna get tossed out of the craft anyhow.

"Oh," Cress says as it finally dawns on him that they don't have a ride back. And that they might get in trouble for just leaving the Hall, even if they'd gone back right away. "I dunno," he mumbles and looks over his shoulder to look at the tall woman with the guard knot. Maybe /she/ knew how they could get back, but he doesn't dare ask her so he looks back at Lin.

Saisukei exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Cress moves over to sit next to Lin and wraps his arms around her. "I'm sure there's someone out there who'll take us home," he says, indicating the Bowl with his head.

Linora snuggles closer to Cress, half sorry to leave now. But she knows better, and only nods, moving to get to her feet. "We better go see," she whispers, reluctantly disentangling herself from his embrace and offering him a hand up.

Cress sighs, and takes her hand to get up from the heat of the hearth behind him. "Yeah, I think we better," he says, and takes her hand to go out. He gives a nod to the guard, although she doesn't seem to notice, beeing all wrapped up in her lizard.