==== October 4th, 2013
==== K'ane, Kyara
==== K'ane and Kyara bump into each other in the Living Cavern. She has a couple of things for him.

Who K'ane, Kyara
What K'ane and Kyara bump into each other in the Living Cavern. She has a couple of things for him.
When There is 1 Turn and 24 days until the 12th Pass.
Where Living Cavern, Igen Weyr


Living Cavern
Dim light from hanging glow-globes cannot fully camouflage the ravages of time and neglect on Igen's busy living caverns, though hints of its former glory peek through in the decorative cuts to the cave's natural limestone and the high quality of dusty, tatty-ended tapestries. Here and there, skybroom tables — stained dark by wood finish and a decade of grime — sit in loose groups, flanked by wicker chairs with pointy, broken rattan that pokes out to invariably find unprotected skin. The seemingly randomly placed furniture, however, at closer inspection, forms a sort of cross-shape of negative space. At the northernmost walls and nooks of the caverns, a long buffet table with tarnished lazy susans hosts an array of finger-foods and pitchers for the interested, refilled occasionally by drudges that shuffle in from the curtained entrance to the south, beyond which lies the kitchens. To the east is a large arch leading outside and, across from that, to the west, a set of rattling doors that open to reveal the tunnels and stairs of the inner caverns themselves.

It's a bit early for lunch — but maybe not for one who missed lunch. K'ane's strides move him from bowl to the caverns with a distracted cant; he's absorbed in reading something on a scrap of hide that he's removed from the message-tube strapped to one of his dusky bronzes. This particular fellow has an ugly scar running down his neck, ragged and jagged; Quid, then, and not Farthing. The scarred firelizard clings tightly to the leather-covered shoulder as K'ane moves through the mostly-empty cavern: he's not REALLY looking at where he's going, though solid footfalls land sturdily as he progresses towards the sideboard with breakfast's remnants.

If it's supposedly a bit warm for winter, nobody told Whirlwind when they went up for drills this morning. It shows in the cold ruddiness flushing Kyara's cheeks as she moves from the klah hearth to the sideboard, sipping at a steaming mug she barely gives time to cool as she cradles it in still-gloved hands. At least it wasn't raining this time. Sniffling a little as her fresh-from-the-sky temperature clashes with the warmth of the cavern, she grabs a plate, not really looking where she's going either…and almost collides with an incoming K'ane. Fortunately, she doesn't brake so quickly that she loses any of her much needed hot drink. "Whup…sorry," she tells the bronzerider, voice still a little gravelly from the chill. She clears her throat a bit before going on, plucking up some fruit and a few pastries. "Morning, K'ane. Or afternoon; whatever it is now. Care to join me, if you're not busy?"

K'ane doesn't seem to feel the cold very often — hardy blood, his, used to tilling the rocky and frigid soil of a cothold straddling the tundra next door to the frozen wastes. Igen's a breeze compared to that. Not a breeze: pulling up suddenly when periphery vision proximity sensors go off. Quid scrambles for a better grip, jaw opening as if he plans on tripping the distance to Kyara. K'ane butts the thing with his chin as he pulls up, squinting downwards — his half-frown clears when he notices who it is. "Oh, Kyara," Paradisian brogue replies; "Pardon." Beat. "Is it mornin'?" Whatever. He eyes over the offerings, procures a mug and klah and the last heavy-duty meatroll of the morning. It's hotter than he expects, and he shifts it to bracket over the top of his mug with an accusatory glare to the offending foodstuff. "How's Whirlwind treatin' y'?" he questions, shifting about to face the mostly-empty tables. Decisions, decisions.

"It'd better not be," Kyara grumbles to the question of the time of day as she grabs a meatroll of her own and turns around. "Else I'm not done with drills, and therefore in big trouble." Not one for vacillating over tables herself at the moment, she takes a few careful strides to one nearby and sits down, gently pushing the nearest chair out with her foot in an invitation to the bronzerider. "Whirlwind is…it's rough; I won't beat around it," she sighs, taking a moment to survey the little bronze on K'ane's shoulder. "Still settling in, but I'm more settled than I was at first." Eyes still on Quid, she traces a finger lightly over her own collar, mirroring where the firelizard's scar is. "How did he get that? Looks like it was pretty nasty."

"Well, then. It ain't." K'ane's easy to get along with. When he's not being a recalcitrant mule, that is. The big bronzerider obediently follows Kyara, settling down hands-less into the scooted-out chair. "Yeah, I bet." There's a gleam of amusement in K'ane's eyes for the Whirlwind-is-rough comment. "I had enough of all that when I was in Inferno." She may recollect Inferno, the hard-hitting, hard-drinking, hard-drilling wing of oldtime High Reaches. He eyes that meatroll as if pondering if it's cooled off enough yet; instead he just settles down the mug and leans back. Her gesture has his eyebrows furrowing before he jerks his eyes askance. "Oh. Quid?" He cranes his head to a side to peer at the creature on his shoulder. "I think it was a plow. Was it a plow?" he asks the creature, who hisses at the word and hunkers more down on his bonded's shoulder. "Yeah," announced to Kyara, "A plow." Amusement lightens blue eyes.

If Kyara ever heard about Inferno, it was never more than in passing; she was probably too up to her ears in archival work, scoring, or out on a route to have it sink in. Still, the reference is enough for her to catch his point, and she hmmms around a mouthful of food to show it. Shaking her head at the firelizard, she raises her eyebrows, smirking. "Well, what did you go and do that for, you silly thing?" she scolds, addressing the little bronze fully. "A plow. Thought you'd win, huh?" With a chuckle, she gives a small jerk on the collar of her jacket to loosen it, folding it down as she decided she's warmed up enough now for it. "Oh!" Sitting forward suddenly as realization hits her, she reaches into a small pouch and pulls out a brushed metal flask, which she plunks down lightly on the table in front of K'ane. "I've been meaning to give you that. You haven't been easy to track down lately."

Quid makes a noise at Kyara, one of those high-pitched firelizard sounds that would likely be a grumble or rumble of discord in a dragon, but generally neutered and made rather ridiculously cute when executed by lungs as small as his are. K'ane doesn't seem to notice overmuch. "Yeah, he was lucky. Considerin'. Surprises me, sometimes, that he came wi' me, this one." He lifts a calloused finger to rub at that spot between the firelizard's eyeridges, soothing any ruffled wingspars. His eyes land upon that flask, and he furrows his brows. "Well, y'know, y'try to stay under th' drumcode." Like under the radar. or something. "For me?" Since she didn't just clearly state that. K'ane reaches for it, finally, turning it over in his hands to appreciate the non-bent newness of it (as opposed to the one he's had forever).

"It gives him character, I'll say that," she says of the firelizard, cautiously reaching forward to let Quid inspect her finger, if he wants. "Still a handsome fellow, in spite of it." A smile tilts Kyara's mouth as she watches K'ane look over the flask. If he opens it, he'll even find it full; the weight of it might not make that evident, nor the shifting of fluid inside, because it's rather heavy-duty. "Yes, for you," she chuckles as her mug suddenly becomes a little more interesting. "I meant to give it to you at graduation. A thank you. For giving a damn about us, and helping us when it seemed like no one else would." She flicks a glance up at him, still smiling, and takes a drink. Then she blinks a little, thoughtful. "D'you know, it's already been a Turn since you and Dhioth Searched me? Give or a take a bit, but still… It doesn't feel like it's been that long yet."

"Like he needs any more," K'ane grumbles; "He already gives m' indigestion." Quid seems well-pleased at that, and extends out his nose to sniff delicately at Kyara's fingertip, the gesture rather equine. K'ane does indeed open the thing, eyebrows lifting when he finds it full; he gives it a cautious whiff under his nose to test what may be found inside. It's not spoiled milk, is it? "Oh," still a little off-kilter at the gift. "Well." He shrugs a shoulder, and maybe the gesture is somewhat awkward. It's difficult to tell, sometimes, with the gruff exterior. "Thank y', Kyara. I can't promise I'll rightly take care of it, but I'm sure I'll use it." His grin is lopsided and perhaps a hint ribald in humor. His eyebrows lift at that last bit, though, and he squints across at her. "Well, damn. That was in here, too, wasn't it?" He chin-jerks towards his typical corner.

No, not spoiled milk - even if Kyara might have considered pranking him like that; it's not really her style. It is however, something she paid attention to in the Dustbowl, once. "Aftershock," she notes nonchalantly, though the grin she has afterward is a little on the wicked side. "Managed to wheedle Jharlodar out of a bottle. I'm a little proud of myself for that one." K'ane's awkwardness only serves to keep the grin on Kyara's face, and she shrugs in turn. "You're welcome. And I figure, the more banged up it gets, the more it's appreciated, so not to worry, there." She looks over her shoulder at the corner in question, nodding slowly. "Yes. Well, it started in here. I didn't even have a proper jacket yet, and you two were hauling me outside," she laughs, then rubs her neck a bit. "It's…sort of flattering, that Dhioth still has it in his head to pay attention to me. Part of it's probably Lia, I'm sure, but even so." Not with such child-like innocence does Liareth interact with Dhioth anymore, really - which K'ane has most likely noticed - but always, with respect and appreciation for his sense of justice. Even if it's a narrow one that she likes to try to fluster whenever she can these days.

Eyebrows raise. K'ane obviously wasn't expecting THAT. He takes another, longer waft of the whiskey. "Good taste." His expression grows more crooked, and he pockets the flask into the inner pocket of his jacket, that little awkwardly-sized pocket that never seems good for much more than a flask. He leans back, meatroll-and-klah apparently forgotten for the conversation. "Nah. I mean. He remembers you…for you. He pays attention t' Lia, 'course." K'ane's face, wry: "Pays her attention for Lia. He's prickly, an' picky. He only pays attention to th' pretty ones." The bronzerider's expression broadens into a grin just shy of a smirk, leaned-back as he is, and he leaves the dual-meaning in the air without bothering to point it out.

"And hence, the getting torn up in flights he doesn't have the best chance of winning, just because they're pretty," Kyara chuckles. Though that being at least part of the reason for Dhioth's attention to Liareth makes the greenrider turn blush a little on her lifemate's behalf. Lia is pretty - Kyara knows it, the green herself knows it and has also discovered how to use the fact quite well with the boy dragons. Kyara's still getting used to it. "Well, Dhioth has good taste, too," she remarks from (yet again) behind her mug. The dual-meaning is sensed…but deliberately sidestepped for the moment. At least the question she voices now isn't solely for that purpose. "Are you competing in the T-Tourney at all, K'ane?" she asks, also leaning back and crossing her ankles as she finishes off some fruit.

That smile turns more inward. "Well," K'ane reflects, "Y'know. Maybe he's a bruiser too." Because Dhioth of course has walked around in stitches more often than K'ane has sported black eyes or busted lips (or more commonly knuckles). Uh huh. The question of Dhioth and taste is left alone, aside from a noise, exasperated. He finally pushes that meatroll off the top of his klah mug — turns out he's not hungry after all — to better take a tentative sip of his klah. It's gone mostly cold, now, but such is life. "Eh," he hedges in regards to the tourney. "Dhioth'll want to." Which means probably. "What about you and Liareth?"

Kyara laughs quietly at the bronzerider's assessment of his lifemate, ending on a sigh. Her thoughtful expression betrays more on her mind along a related thought…but that's something she'll likely bring up later. Instead, she nods, giving a slight roll of her eyes. "Lia wants to do everything, impatient thing she is, but…I really want to see how we'd do our first time out, myself. We're doing the agility course for sure; I think we have a fair shot at doing really well at that. We'll do mock fall, too, but not distance flying. Search and Rescue's a good possibility…though I was wondering, if you and Dhioth are interested, how would you feel about teaming up on the paired version of that?" Raised eyebrows hold a hopeful extension of her question, a finger idly tapping the table beside her plate as she awaits his answer.

K'ane is observant, when he wants to be; the thoughtful expression is noted, but not commented upon. Instead he turns his mind onto the competition and her explanations. "Aye, we'll probably end up distance flying, if we do anything." A private half-smile — likely thinking about the effort required to run tireless Dhioth out to weariness. Too bad Pern doesn't have audiobooks or iPods. Distance flying is boooooring. Her last question does spark his interest, though, and he straightens from his backwards lean. "We'll probably be more a handicap t'you guys than not," he baldly puts out there, "With him bein' as big as he is. 'Less add something heavy t' be moved in there." For all of that, he sucks on his front teeth for a moment and then gives a short, decisive nod. "I reckon that wouldn't be half bad."

Folding her arms and leaning forward to rest them on the table, Kyara beams a satisfied grin at K'ane. "I'm glad you think so," she says, all quiet enthusiasm. "And maybe it won't be so much a handicap as you think. If you and Dhioth take a higher altitude, you'll be able to see longer, while Lia and I can fly below you, pick up more details." At least, that's her initial take on it. She extends her hand to him, her grin sliding into a smirk. "Partners, then?"

K'ane considers that hand for a moment, as if assessing it for hidden shockers or whoopie cushions, then clasps it with his own for a firm, no-nonsense handshake. "Partners," he confirms — the moment after which he looks upwards to the roof of the cavern. "But you're in charge of figurin' it out." Delegation at it's BEST. It isn't that K'ane is necessarily lazy… he's only lazy when he thinks he can get away with it. There's a subtle difference.

That the bronzerider has to take that moment to consider her hand earns a wry raise of an eyebrow from Kyara, and she returns the handshake with equal firmness. No shockers here! When he declares her in charge, her nod is rather sarcastic. "Oh. Thank you." Under the table, the toe of her right boot jerks over to lightly tap the side of his with a barely-audible "thunk" as she releases his hand. It may or may not have been an accident. Though she really doesn't have a problem with this arrangement, if K'ane wants to "delegate." One of the advantages of Liareth having been around Kehemath so much is that her green now knows a bit of how Search and Rescue works - nowhere near the level Sienna's green does, but she knows what she's doing, at least. She eyes K'ane sidelong to see if he'll react to getting nudged, then gathers her plate and mug together, indicating his own cold klah. "I'm getting more. Want any?"

K'ane is just mulish sometimes. It happens. He puts on his best mock-injured face as he pulls his boot back from that tap; "I've been hit! Y've wounded me, woman!" with the former statement said in possibly the most hilarious falsetto known to mankind. At this junction, however, he shakes his head with a half-grin and shuffles to his feet slowly. "Nah, I've got t'get back out t'Dhioth before he works himself up into a tizzy. But…eh, holler at me when y'want to brainstorm 'bout the rescue, and we'll go over things, if y'want the help." A wink at that end, and he lazily salutes the greenrider before heading back to the door.

With a laugh and another head shake, Kyara stands alongside K'ane and eyes the sideboard again. "Oh, I will," she drawls in reassurance, ticking off a salute of her own with her free hand as he leaves. Then another round of klah is retrieved for herself and downed, and it's off to do a little brainstorming - probably while soaking the rest of the blasted cold from drills out of her bones for a little while.

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