Once a mere overhang in the bowl wall, this arched stone enclave was deepened in aeons past by who-knows-what to provide shelter for injured dragons and their mates. Craggy walls loom high to dwarf rider and dragon alike, sloping back from the weather-open entrance to a low opening into the infirmary itself. Stacked under rock-shaded cover are low supply chests of sturdy timber, flanked with long tables. Other openings are shaded by wherhide curtains, leading to smaller, private caverns for the dragonhealers' patients.
It is an autumn before dawn.
Settled on rough-hewn ledge are Bansi, Bow-Wow, Donner, and Simbi.
Bronze Nylanth and blue Cerdith are here.
You notice Elehu asleep here.
Ilare comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
Chanticoth comes into shelter from bowl's wide open spaces.
It's early, yes, but Reiko is indeed awake and dressed, picking at the remains of what was evidently a rather large breakfast. Cerdith is curled up not far from her cot; apparently he no longer feels compelled to wrap himself around it.
Lookit! It's a brownrider&dragon invasion! Dumdumdum! *cough* Bright eyes twinkling, Ilare wiggles her fingers in greeting as she and her lifemate squeeze their way into the ground weyrs. Her other hand grips two small hide baggies, the scents from withing mildly spicy and certainly enticing. However, from the size of the breakfast Reiko appears to have consumed, her gifts may go unneeded. "Well, top of the mornin' to ye. Hope you don't mind us visiting, but he," thumb moves in direction of the big brown lug, "was worried about his protege and I had to let him check all was well."
And Chanticoth indeed is making sure all is well, snuffling around the ground weyrs as he enters, eyes roaming over the whole of the weyrs. Let's just hope the occupants are up for visitors...
A bright smile filled with warmth shines out from creamy skin, light gold paled by snow and cold. Red-gold curls frame oval face, mane spilling down sloping shoulders, often assisting her fringe in the art of obscuring light amber eyes. Faded freckles are hinted at across nose and cheekbones, childhood pudginess long gone after several turns of 'Reaches living. Strongly built and sturdy, muscled form accentuates her feminine curves with modest elegance. Agile as a dragon midair, she gives the impression of being taller than 5'6'' through sheer presence and insatiable friendliness. Alert and cheerful, her eyes seem to sparkle, often glowing a rich, lambent gold.
These shapely leathers swathe Ilare in wherhide the deep shade of royal blue that makes up a cloudless winter sky, clinging gently to every curve and dip of her figure. The jacket is the most distinctive piece of the outfit, with various adornments that make it special: from the leather fringing on the sleeves that rustles and twists with every movement, to the 'Z' on the back that marks the wearer as a member of Zephyr wing, made out of tunnelsnake skin stained such a frigid blue that it might have been carved out of ice itself. Lined for warmth, not only ::between:: but in the harsh Reachian winters, black fur pokes out at the cuffs and collars, while it is buttoned down the front with black painted wooden buttons, which close the double breasted jacket securely. Black gloves cover her fingers, keeping out the chill when she cannot place her hands in the lined pockets, sitting at approximately hip level on her trousers. These are cut close, and the slight thickness of them gives lie to the insulating fabric placed inside. On Ilare's feet are a pair of black wherhide boots, perfect for stomping through the snow, the laces tied securely.
Lightning silver flashes about double twisted cords, blackest midnight and royalty's blue, and into a braid entwined by a bright brandy-butter brown ribbon. Fashioned into double loops, its long tail ends in a tassle, proclaiming her to be an Assistant Weyrling Master and Brownrider of High Reaches Weyr, the badge on her jacket bearing the 'Z' of the wing, Zephyr.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 2 minutes.
Ilare is 21 Turns, 7 months, and 8 days old.
Reiko glances up at the voice, abandoning her fork in favor of conversation. "Morning, Ilare," she greets, pleasantly enough. "And Chanticoth." Of course. "We're fine." Grounded, of course, but fine. It's actually apparent that Reiko isn't quite as skinny and pale as she was. Emerald gaze, brighter than before by a few degrees, slides over the brownrider, frankly appreciative of the new leathers. Did she notice the gift? Likely not. "We're already out and about a bit." She shrugs, leaning back on her hands indolently, stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing her ankles. "You're looking well." She means Chanticoth, too, of course... even though her eyes are back on those leathers.
And are they not *lovely* leathers? Brand new, collected yesterday. Oblivious to any other meanings one could couple with such a gaze, Ilare grins knowingly. "Thank you, Reiko." she does a mock curtsy, winking broadly as she straightens. "When you approach graduation to full rider, pay a visit to the weavers and ask for Eirtae. She made mine." ARe they not splendiferous? "Mind you, if I'm not careful, I could end up losing her to /just/ leatherwork! She makes fantastic dresses too." Chuckling, she extends her hand, offering the two mini-sacs. "Here you go. Something tasty. Bubblies and cookies." Amber eyes glimmer with amusement. Her source of abundant /fresh/ /hot/ pies is known by no one but her. And Chan. But he won't tell. Will you, Chan? "Glad to hear you are both out and about. Chan was worried that Cerdith might lose his nack at dancing." A hand reaches back to pat her lifemate's nose fondly.
Chanticoth would never reveal Ilare's secret sources! She might take him out for sushi again. I mean... she might never take him fishing again. And that would just be a crime against dragonkind. He snorts as Ilare pats his nose, sending hot breath towards his rider. Yep. He has to make sure that none of the little ones aren't forgetting the dances he taught them... or they might become stuffy and boring... can't have that.
First things first. Reiko reaches for the treats, emerald eyes glittering. "Thanks, Ilare." Since she must eat, might as well eat something decadent once in a while. One more glance falls across the leathers -- my, they /are/ a nice fit -- and she nods, a little smirk curling the corners of her lips. "Eirtae. I'll remember that." Cerdith lifts his head now to warble a rather belated greeting to Chanticoth and his rider. He may not quite have Chanticoth's moves down, but Cerdith is unlikely to ever be stuffy and boring.
Perish the thought! Cerdith is given a wink, leaving her dragon to bring the blue up to speed on moves he'll get to learn as time goes on, letting Reiko take the bags. She thought her gift might go down a treat. "She's an excellent weaver. I've every intention of kidnapping her for the weyr when she makes rank." Sage nod. Can't have anything but the best for Reaches, after all. Hands move to rest on her hips, and a sympathetic look is shared. "Let me guess - they're being strict as to what food you can eat." As if bubblies are not healthy! All that vitamin c from the juices!
Chanticoth enters the groundweyrs properly and hunkers down, assuming a comfortable half-lying position on the floor. Yep. Very good weaver. As if Chan would agree to anything else. Can't have his Ilare wearing second class clothing, can we?
Never... only the best, or nothing at all. Either would suit Reiko. She lays the bag of treats carefully on her pillow, being rather less than hungry just at the moment. "The only real /restriction/--" and here she scowls slightly, "--is I'm not to have much klah. As long as I'm eating regular meals, Elehu won't complain about a treat." The twisted smirk mysteriously returns at the mention of the Healer's name. Cerdith drops his muzzle back on his forepaws, letting out a soft -whuff-. He's got his own moves, after all. Different from Chanticoth's.
Ilare's lips twitch at the dragons, but a nod is given at Reiko's words. "Elehu's lovely." Says the girl dating said healer's brother, and utterly misses any meaning in the twistedness of the bluerider's smirk. "And if she says no klah, then you'll get none. Although I'm sure klah cookies couldn't be any harm, eh?" A wink, and the brownrider takes a seat on the edge of reiko's cot, folding one leg over the other, hands folding neatly in her lap. "Now, I've a couple of hides for you. I figured being confined would be dull, so I borrowed some of the formation hides. Might as well keep you up to speed, so that you'll only need the physical practice." A sage nod. No more half-exhausted people on /her/ watch. And that goes for a certain bronzer.. ahem.
Reiko's smirk spreads to a twisted halfsmile. "Yes, she /is/ lovely, isn't she?" she agrees mildly. Even if lately that's only been in an efficient, healer-ish sort of way. Ahem. "Oh, they're klah cookies?" Said cookies immediately get another look. Now /this/ might be a way to make everyone happy, ne? Looking a bit brighter, Reiko reaches for the hides. "Thanks," she says, her tone only mildly dry, as she unrolls one of the hides for a peek. Not as much fun as, say, dragon poker cards, but useful. Which is good.
Useful is always good. Better she be studying these then have R'sli make her do.. things.. while she recovers, neh? "You're quite welcome.. Mind you, if you've any troubles, get Cerdith to bespeak Chan and either one of us can assist you." Nylanth is eyed in amused dismay, head shaking a little, before she turns back to Reiko. Mane is absently pushed back over one shoulder, before hands fold and stay put. "Had lots of visitors lately?" And I bet they all had such /interesting/ things to say. No gifts like Ilare's though, right?
Reiko has mercifully not actually /seen/ R'sli yet, so she hasn't given a thought to the Weyrlingmaster's possible reaction. She rolls the hide back up, carefully setting it with its mate beside her pillow, then shifts a little to face Ilare, again leaning back on her hands. "Oh, a few... Lors came by with some delightful klah pudding." Oh, more ways to get klah into her system. Reiko really ought to make friends with Michel. "And tassels... or something... for Cerdith's straps." She'll acknowledge that the gift was well meant, but from the expression on her face, those tassels will be staying right in that basket. "And there have been others, of course. But since we're not exactly /confined/ in the ground weyrs anymore, socialization isn't much of a problem." Unless she 'socializes' with the wrong people and nearly gets decked. But we won't mention that.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Decked? Good thing Ilare hasn't heard of such things, eh? " Glad to hear it! That means I'll havethe pleasure of your company in the caverns again, eh? You've had your clutchmates worried you know." A finger waggles in admonishment, but there's too much humour in her tone for her to be take seriously. "But you've given me plenty of reasons to distract G'deon. I have to thank you for that." Yupyup. All legitimate reasons, too. And trust me, she's found some /great/ distractions.. But thats a topic more appropriate for mating flight lectures and the like.. Ahem. "Missing the hard work yet?"
Reiko was a little surprised, in fact, to realize just how many people had been worried about her. Of course, having Cerdith broadcast the incident throughout the Weyr hadn't exactly been conducive to keeping things quiet. "I'm allowed in the caverns. Cerdith hasn't wanted to let me out of his sight." Hence eating in the ground weyrs, but the look she gives her lifemate is fond and forgiving. But she does arch a questioning brow at the mention of the Weyrleader. "How exactly have I given you reasons to distract G'deon?" One hand lifts to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear as she fixes an even gaze on Ilare. This is much more interesting than whether she's missing the hard work. Incidentally, she's not.
Ilare figured you hadn't. But she's mildly surprised Reiko hasn't figured out her link to the Weyrleader. "That smith efficiency of his, creates a need for him to be perfect - nonsense, mind you, but he was very unhappy with himself when you collapsed." Blamed himself, the silly fool. *sigh* Eye lashes flutter coyly, and a cheeky.. no saucy grin! takes up resident on her features. "Someone had to take his mind off his problems." Wink. Then she becomes serious. "Not that your a problem," she hastens to add, "But he.. you know what he's like." Well, she assumes you do.
Reiko scowls lightly. Anyone with eyes could tell there was a link between Ilare and the Weyrleader. Reiko had only been unclear on how she herself had played any part in it. "Of course it isn't his fault," she mutters, but her expression when her eyes return to Ilare is positively wicked. "How perfectly... unselfish of you," she says mildly, that twisted smirk returning. "I suppose I should thank you." Maybe Ilare can put in a good word with R'sli as well? Maybe not the same /kind/ of word. Ahem.
Ilare chuckles, winking. "I know, you know, he does not. And Wasn't it?" Twinkle. Who ever said Ilare was a pure and honest and goodly soul obviously hasn't reckoned much on her pairing with G'deon. "Utterly. Yup." Snicker. "And I guess you could. Still.. If you're worried about a certain weyrling master, don't worry. I'll keep you safe from any harsh words." Winking, she rises, dusting of her leathers, clean though they are. habit, see. "I, unfortunately, have more weyrlings to teach. I'll be sure to pop by and visit you again, don't you worry!"
The smirk spreads to a twisted halfsmile, and Reiko spares one last appreciative glance at those leathers as Ilare rises. "Thanks." That about covers everything, she thinks. "That'd be nice." And feel free to bring more cookies, of course. She'll just... rest and such.
Swinging his wings out of the way, Chanticoth offers a foreleg to aid Ilare, who swiftly clambers up and settles between Chanticoth's neckridges.
Chanticoth leaves healers' enclave for the central bowl.