==== November 27, 2013
==== W'rin, K'vvan, Mayte
==== Ex's meet by the lake, W'rin helps make it extra awkward.

Who W'rin, K'vvan, Mayte
What Ex's meet by the lake, W'rin helps make it extra awkward.
When Seven months and 12 days until the 12th Pass
Where Lake Shore

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Lake Shore
Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.

Morning by the lakeshore, this early in the morning the lakeshore is deserted. Perhaps this is why a particularly recluse green rider has chosen to venture out from his lair at just this time. Nadeeth plays in the water, sending water showering in K'vvan's direction as he slowly jogs around the lake. His head is bowed and he seems to be slightly oblivious to whatever is in his direction.

The lake isn't quite as deserted as pehaps K'vvan hoped. And storming in his direction is a not quite as slowly jogging unstoppable mountain of a man. Luckily W'rin is a little more aware of his surroundings, the crisp spring air having awoken the other early morning riser. "K'vvan, watch out." W'rin grunts heavily, even as he sidesteps out of the way himself. "You'd run right into the weyr wall!" The man grumbles.

K'vvan jerks as W'rin calls out, stumbling off his stride sideways before catching himself and slowing down. "Sir." The greeting is a bit terse. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention." Here, he states the obvious. Nadeeth picks her head up out of the water and quietly whistles a greeting to the Weyrleader.

A single eyebrow lifts as K'vvan so shortly responds to W'rin, but the weyrleader pauses to nod a greeting to the green before turning back to her rider. "Nope." It is his answer to the obviously stated and a hand brushes through his beard. A sudden decision to start back in the direction he was coming from, matching the greenrider's pace. He'll just go for a run uninvited with the younger man. There are a few strides before he speaks, "You aight'?"

Perhaps old habits die hard, as K'vvan doesn't flinch when the Weyrleader falls into stride next to him. It has been months since those morning runs had ended, since K'vvan had apparently reformed and no longer needed that personal attention. "Fine." Again, simple terse answer. His gaze faces forward, watching where he is going this time to avoid any further accidents. His hair, allowed to grow long again, flips into his face and he reaches up to push it back.

It seems easy for the weyrleader too, who despite the fact that he does not speak much may miss the companionship of another person during his workouts. Still K'vvan was released from his perpetual morning hard labour and so he isn't forced to speak, at least for a few long moments as W'rin lets the grumpy responses hang between them. "If you're going to lie, you should at least make it more convincing. May be a smile or something." Even the man's even tone gives away the dry humor with which it was delivered.

Humor? Not even a touch of a smile breaks onto K'vvan's face. There are several of those jogging steps taken as each emotion, anger, self-loathing, disgust… each run the gambit upon his face. Finally, the expression settles into that faint frown that ages him slightly. "It doesn't f*king matter if I lie better or not."

It's bright. It's early. It's sneaky-time! And so Mayte sneaks forth, entrenched in a large brown robe fastened by a belt, towel tucked under her arm, watching around cautiously for other early-morning swimmers-to-be. Upon spotting Nadeeth, Mayte's wary expression brightens, and she forgets to… Drat it all, she espies W'rin and, worse, K'vvan, freezing into spot, probably too close to not be seen. Maybe if she doesn't move, they'll think she's a tree. Doo dee doo, just a tree here.

There are times for explosions and times to allow emotions to run their course, finally W'rin pulls to a stop and sighs heavily at the greenrider. "You really miss the point a lot don't you." In contrast to K'vvan's long hair, the hand the weyrleader runs over his head is met with neat and shortly shorn peppered hairs. It is about that time that Mayte makes her appearance. Too bad for her, Pern doesn't have dinosaurs, and even worse W'rin isn't one - despite being the relative size and possessing many of the same eating habits of a prehistoric carnivore, and so his sight is not dependent on movement. "Mayte." Rumbles out in greeting. "You aren't going swimming are you? It's a bit cold."

When the weyrleader stops, K'vvan draws to a stop too. He looks up at W'rin's face and is about to make a snarky sarcastic and slightly hurtful comment when the weyrleader calls out the last name K'vvan wants to hear. He turns slightly to look at her, and his mouth snaps shut.

Mayte can't prevent the slight groan that escapes her as the ever-observant-when-it-suits-him W'rin spots her and then calls her out. There's no helping it, either when K'vvan turns to see her as well, so she gives the green dragon in the water a regretful look and shrugs to the Weyrleader, "I've, ahh, been trying to get my swims in earlier." The neck of her robe opens enough to reveal a high collar that one finger goes to pull at, "You know, with all the new people and stuff," dirty swim-time-stealing people, "It's getting busy." Her excuse and she's sticking to it. And since there's no way to avoid it, or him, Mayte turns to look at K'vvan, her cheeks turning slightly pink, saying in effortlessly cool tones, "Good morning, greenrider," like she's been waiting two months to say that.

W'rin, completely unaware of anything snarky K'vvan was about to say - and of course oblivious to the tension between the two - because it's the weyrleader and he's never been exactly astute when it comes to the study of social interaction. "Just don't get sick…greenrider?" He breaks off to jab a thumb toward the greenrider. "You know K'vvan don't you?" His eyes squint upward in thought, he's sure he's seen them together. Maybe it was some other greenrider he saw her with. No, no he's sure. They are friends. Aren't they? The confusion reads on his face.

"Vintner." K'vvan's reply is equally cool. His green-eyed gaze rests on Mayte, for a long moment before he has to pull his gaze away, looking back at the Weyrleader for lack of any other safe place to look. He shifts slightly, caught now between a rock (W'rin of course) and a hard place (Mayte.) For her part, Nadeeth has no interest in the tension between the two and pulls herself out of the water, whistling another happy greeting and moving closer to the trio.

Mayte nods a little, looking slightly uncomfortable but admits, "Yes, Weyrleader, I di…do." No one notice that, okay? "We just haven't, er, seen the other in a while." Whew, it's a good thing girls don't sweat, because that means Mayte is just glistening in the sunlight. Before her swim. Nadeeth's whistle gets a little smile as a welcome break from the tension, and Mayte turns back to W'rin with an only slightly wobbly smile, "And you, sir?" She can be friendly, see, see? "You've been really busy lately, right? Eollyn's getting right fussy these days, making sure your whiskey's exact. Not that she can drink it." Oh hello, off-hand remark. Pregnant Journeywomen are safe topics, right?

A whirl of bright glittery ribbon twines into K'vvan's mind, overwhelming joy with the picture of the black haired teenager at the center of that riot.

"Oh." Is the man's only recourse to Mayte's rather logical explanation. Here he'll make it better. "Well, we can't have that - riders need breaks too. Haven't been working you too hard have I, K'vvan?" A hearty laugh emits from the man, the kind where he grabs his belly, like a Pernese Santa Clause, if Santa was made of steel, and was more likely to give a kid an f-bomb and a black eye than a lump of coal. Okay, maybe the tension is affecting him too, even if he can't place it. "Yah. Whiskey. Seems holders like it as much as I do. I wish they'd stop drinking us out of it though." Mumbling something rather colorful about his thoughts on holders just out of the range that a normal human could pick up on it, he only raises an eyebrow at the pregnancy comment and snorts.

W'rin. You're not helping. The sharp look at W'rin is an attempt to convey that thought before K'vvan realizes that maybe he shouldn't look at his Wing and Weyrleader with that level of unhappy. W'rin's laughter helps a bit, as K'vvan physically steps backwards away from the jiggling form of W'rin. "Sir, please don't do that…"

Mayte chuckles a little herself, starting to relax a bit. "We're trying to keep up with the demand," the vintner avers proudly, "And we keep the best stuff in the back." That's just a little secret for the two … three of us, right, "Let me know if you're starting to run low on the good stuff," you know, the stuff you keep at the back of the liquor cabinet, hoping guests don't spot it. K'vvan's uneasiness hardly gets a glance because perhaps Mayte's so used to it, but she takes it in stride, "Breaks are good for a body," she backs W'rin up unthinkingly, "Eollyn lets me have a few days to get away from the store," though sometimes it's more like kicking her out with threats. Mayte looks over at Nadeeth and asks the green politely (and impolitely to K'vvan), "Do you like extra rest-days?"

Not helping? Where's the love? The conversation seems to smooth itself out easily enough, "Always appreciate that." The weyrleader offers a smile to the vintner with an appreciative lift of his shoulder. And what a good fake-daughter to back him up, he'll even offer her a grin for that, though it falls quickly at the idea of extra rest days. No. Just the prescribed number. Thank ya very much. Which sets him off grumbling again about lazy something or others and thread.

The extra glittery ribbons continue to dance though K'vvan's mind, almost glowing. «She and you should go visit that bread maker.» Helpful, always, the chipper tone makes it clear that all is right again, a long jagged tear is neatly being mended, a large patch embroidered with a complex design of crossed knots carefully applied with the smallest of stitches to create the illusion that no tear ever existed.

»Stop. Please.«

"No." K'vvan's tone is sharp again, but he isn't looking at Mayte while he says it. "She likes the work. Please don't talk to her." A hint of pleading breaks into K'vvan's voice, and he brushes a hand through his hair again. His other hand rubs against his arm briskly, as if it suddenly has gotten several degrees colder.

Some might call it sucking up to the Weyrleadership, but Mayte calls it smart networking: "OH! And we renamed that wine, you know, the Wingleader one? We called it Weyrleader, changed it a little, and now it's selling pretty well!" But it's really the fond, mischievous grin that Mayte sports that implies, if she could reach, she'd give W'rin a kiss on the cheek. K'vvan's tone does cut through her smile though, and even though the green rider isn't looking at her, Mayte takes the words as meant for her: "What?" And in true Mayte style, she grinds out, "I'm sorry?" She's not, really, it's just the nicest way to say it in front of W'rin, accompanied by an apologetic look.

"People probably just buy it to throw at the wall." W'rin grunts, though the self-deprecation is as lightly given as anything the man says. The other male's odd plea has the weyrleader drawing his eyebrows together. As strange as it is for him to hear people speaking to dragons he's never seen another rider have quite that reaction. And then he's drawn into other conversation, as if he has had anything to do with what is going on. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open just a bit, but then he has no idea what he's defending himself against so his massive shoulders are lifted in a helpless shrug and he turns to K'vvan for help.

The glitter sparkles again, then dulls slowly in confusion. The ribbons themselves begin to unravel. Rather then look cosmetic the patch simply looks gaudy, and the fabric of her thought develops small stress tears around it. «?»

K'vvan cannot help either of them. There is no explanation that the green rider can give for that particular statement. "Just… stay away from her. She doesn't understand." Understand what? K'vvan doesn't say. Instead he simply says "sh*t" quietly and turns away from the pair to take the few steps towards his green. Her head has dropped and he raises a hand to scratch her headknob.

This is bizzaro social land even for W'rin, leave it to the greenrider to make him seem semi normal in his relationships. He watches the other male love on his dragon like a mother with a bullied child and with a short shake of his head he turns back to Mayte. "They're fine. A rather drama-less clutch so far." It might have been worse, but since there is no weyrwoman to pull punches with Tuli there haven't been any episodes. "Soon enough. Tend to do things on their own time." Or maybe biological time, but men rarely pay attention to such details. "Anyway. I should finish my run. Meetings." His face scrunches up and his tongue sticks out to show how fond he is of such things, and then without another word he takes off back down the beach.

K'vvan has completely clued out of the continuing conversation between Mayte and Weyrleader. "I'm sorry baby, c'mon, let's just… go." Swinging up upon dragon back without straps isn't easy, but K'vvan manages it. With one last murr Nadeeth pushes up into the air, and K'vvan finally looks downwards at Mayte as they rise into the air.



Mayte nods contentedly at W'rin's response and then he's taking off so Mayte lifts a hand in farewell. Turn around (involuntarily) and Mayte discovers that K'vvan and Nadeeth have departed too. A small huff and Mayte clenches her hands before stiffly stalking towards the beach, intent on getting her swim on whether the lake has filled with people or not.

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