==== October 27th, 2013
==== E'don, Kyara, Liareth, Qianvaelth
==== …Or lack thereof. Kyara pays E'don a visit. Liareth has learned tact. Qianvaelth has a ways to go.

Who E'don, Kyara, Liareth, Qianvaelth
What …Or lack thereof. Kyara pays E'don a visit. Liareth has learned tact. Qianvaelth has a ways to go.
When Evening. There are 10 months and 15 days until the 12th Pass.
Where Lower Bowl, Southern Weyr

Lower Bowl

Note: This log is currently missing one pose (a pro from Qian). Should make relative sense, though. And it'll get fixed ;)

The limits of Junior Weyrlinghood sure suck; for a few weeks now, riders weren't allowed to go out of the vicinity of the barracks and training grounds, and with restrictions lifted, well, partially lifted at least, the world just got a whole lot larger. Thank Faranth for the freedom of the outside world, because the Weyrling Barracks sure do stink, both literally and figuratively. So it's not surprising to see E'don and his bonded doing their after dinner laps farther and farther away from their permanent station. The weyrling and his bulky little bronze plod a weaving course across the lower bowl's obstacle course of moving people; the bronze is a preverbal bull in a china shop, his slow, deliberate steps matched with an awkward gait and growing wings over-extended, which causes the pair to bump and smack into people moving along their periphery. "Hold your wings up Qian! Up! Up!" E'don's encouraging tenor cuts through the hubbub, once in a while reaching out to support a wing upwards as they move.

And at the periphery of those people in the Lower Bowl, distinctly out of the way, a visiting Igenite greenrider and her lifemate stand and watch the awkward passage of the bronze weyrling pair with interest. Kyara, her hair swept up into a high runner-tail and wearing a sleeveless blue tunic along with the pants of her riding leathers (entirely too hot, but she's only here for a bit), leans with arms folded and her shoulders up against the stone wall of the Bowl, a gentle smile on her lips as she watches E'don and his bronze come increasingly closer. When the pair is within a call's distance, she comes away from the wall a few strides. "Perhaps you might give the dinner crowd a break for a bit, weyrling?" her amused alto rings across to her friend.

Concentration so focused on making sure Qianvaelth doesn't smack a wing sail into another unassuming victim, Kyara's approach towards the pair is nearly missed when one of Qian's wings slips from E'don grasp and faps his right across the cheek. "Kyar — oft! Stop Qian. Stop, stop, stop." The bronze seems super intent on continuing moving, not even a glance given to the Igen green rider that E'don has to step over the bulk of the little bronze, arms outstretched towards Kyara for a well intended hug. "What are you doing here? Coming to rescue me away from this madness?" He crows this, smile wide and toothy. Qianvaelth can't be bothered with the frivolous act of friends— he's got to keep up the pace past the pair. "Oy, Qian, stop movin' and come say hello," E'don calls out as he throws an arm across Kyara's shoulder. "Don't be rude, you lug."

With a laugh, Kyara steps in for that hug and returns it fully; there's no klah involved this time, so it works much better than the last time she saw E'don within hugging range. "Just visiting," she answers, watching as Liareth settles into a crouch to get a better look at the baby bronze. "Hoping to run into you, actually, since I haven't seen you since the Hatching, and that was from a distance." She steps away a bit, looking the tall, skinny weyrling over. "E'don," she grins. "And Qianvaelth. Honestly, I don't think you'd want me rescuing you away from him, now, would you? Weyrlinghood looks like it's wearing pretty well on you." To her left, Liareth sends a croon to the young bronze, gently curious.

Liareth sends a careful, gentle greeting across the mind of the young bronze - a calm warmth wafted on comfortably humid steam above crystal water babbling quietly, the atmosphere of a rich bathhouse languid and easy among cool marble columns. « Well met, young one, » intones a soprano voice, rich and melodic and stately. »

Qianvaelth unfurls with snapping of sapling boughs, the soft susurrations of russet leaves shaking together in a echoed melody across Liareth's marble bathhouse. There's a turn of dappled sunlight, a shy peek of warm autumnal rays meeting the green's stately greeting. «You are new.» His hollow tenor echoes with restrained curiosity, if not distracted offhandedness.

"Visiting me?" E'don flashes his friend a soft, teasing grin, brows raised. "And you're right — I was knackered after Impression. I wanted to sleep for a week. Still wouldn't mind a full nights’ sleep now, but you know, the Weyrlingmasters say that'll come with time." He taps his temple for emphasis, gaze trained back on his dragon. "It's been taking us a little time to adjust to the mind link." Qianvaelth has finally stopped and he turns his wedged head up towards Liareth with a clacking of spars against the dusty ground, one whirling eye turned to blink up at the green with a curious, albeit shy assessment. "Weyrlinghood, ah, it's okay," E'don answers with a tentative shake of his head. "Tired to my bones. And things can get weird as the day is long." He grimaces at the thought, "And I'd prefer the day when Qian can learn to shit ::between::, but other than that, not bad at all." One finger motions to Liareth with a curious glance. "Is she fully grown now?"

Kyara's equally teasing return is a simple waggle of eyebrows and a nudge to his arm, and she grins over at his dragon. "There are some things about the mindlink that just take a while, no matter what," she observes with a nod. "That's why you're so restricted, but I don't have to tell you that, now. And, yeah." She chuckles humorlessly. "I do not miss mucking a couch, that's for sharding sure." Her eyebrows rise a bit as Liareth relays something over to her. "Lia tells me Qianvaelth is…trees?" She grins up at E'don again. "You get a forest in your head, eh?" Reminiscently, she sighs. "Lia's mind is…a bathhouse. A rich one. She made me practically fall asleep in my first week of weyrling lessons. We had to work on that a lot, as close as our link is. We're still really close. And she's got to be getting close to full- grown, if she isn't already. She's already outgrown a few of the mature greens at Igen." Looking up at him more seriously, she asks with some concern, "Are your Weyrlingmasters treating you guys well? Making sure you're learning all you need?"

Liareth swirls warm fog amongst Qianvaelth's leaves to glow in the sunlight, inviting. The light, she likes - the coloring and the warmth, and muted voices murmur in humor and friendship at the periphery of her baths, soft candlelight flickering and the oh-so-subtle scent of wax and sweetsand edging the air. « I am new…though not as new as you. » There is subtle amusement there, rippling just beneath the surface of that serene soprano. « I am Liareth. Yours is a friend of mine. »

Qianvaelth rambles with the speed of a discarded leaf, the soft scraping of detritus against the warm, moist stone of the green's intimate bathhouse. He adds his own mingled earthy scent to the perfume of clean water and scented sweetsands, a playful dance of autumn breeze whispering through the flicker of candlelight. « Liareth.» Creaking tenor mimics the name, cataloging it into the petrified memory of his shady glen. There's renewed amusement, a curiosity wrapped around the new roots that reach out to encroach into the green's pristine bathhouse. «Does mine want to dance with yours as well?» There's piqued amusement, a flurry wind that jingles the leaves. « He wants to dance so often.»

"Qian is a bit much to get used to," E'don states matter-of-factly, nodding in agreement with Kyara's assessment of weyrlinghood. "He's just, you know, so independent compared to the others in his clutch. Last sevenday the Weyrlingmasters found him nosing his way into the tavern of all things while I was napping." Hands stuff into his pockets with an eye-roll. "He didn't even tell me! He just, you know, trekked off and when he got lost, called Ja'kai instead of me to come get him." Exasperating indeed — Qian looks none too bothered by his rider's complaining though, as he continues his assessment of the crouched green. "And yeah, trees— it's weird, innit? I've never seen the types of forests he shows me. But there they are, in my head." If only E'don could accommodate the noise it brings in his own mind's eye. "Shards, I wish I had the problem of feeling too relaxed by it. I hear creaking and chirping and trees falling all day and night. Keeps me up someti—" And then E'don suddenly has to stop talking, and give his dragon the most pointed of looks, the blood draining quickly from his face. "QIAN."

"Oh, so you get the noisy part of the forest," Kyara says, and then is a bit surprised. "Wow! Sounds like he's pretty distant, compared to some. They can all be so different. Some of Lia's clutchsiblings…" She laughs a little. "Well. From what she's let me know, some are pretty intense. Others, very retiring. Trees aren't so weird, relatively. You'll get used to it, and some of those things may change as he gets older. Hopefully the wandering, especially. Since he won't fit anywhere at some p…oint." Now it's Kyara's turn to catch a question from Lia over what Qianvaelth has just said, and she raises an eyebrow, smirking lopsidedly up at Donner while reddening just a touch. "Not able to keep everything from him just yet, I see," she comments wryly. "Don't worry; I won't pick on you for it."

Liareth is thoughtful for a moment, steam rolling intricately between columns and licking lightly at the roots Qianvaelth winds into her realm. « Mine says that yours does not think of dancing the same way as mine. » The answer is careful, at Kyara's instruction. « She will not presume to know what yours thinks. But mine has a fondness for yours, and she says that is enough for you to dwell on for now. »

Oh woe and embarrassment. It seems to be a constant trend for E'don, the ever-failed lothario — even with Kyara giving him the most teasing of looks, he looks mortified, as he makes his eyes look anywhere but at her face. "Not able to keep anything from him," is E'don's retort as he rocks back on his heels. "And I don't know what he means by that. Really, really." Oh of course he does, and so does Kyara, but E'don is desperately trying to save face. "You know I think of you as just a friend." He whinges this with a desperate intonation, tenor pitching high with embarrassment. "I hope, at the very least, that his propensity to SHARE EVERYTHING stops." The last part is gritted out between clenched teeth at the little bronze, who turns his head to finally look over his bonded and the green rider with what looks like a shrug of droopy wings. Whatever…

Kyara laughs - not at his discomfiture, really…well, perhaps there's a little of that in there…but in sympathy. "Yes, I know! I know," she assures, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder and giving it a little shake. "The feeling's mutual, Don. And trust me - what Lia hears from him won't go beyond me. She tells me everything because she likes to talk, but she won't pass things on if I tell her not to." With a shake of her head, she regards the baby bronze blithely. "One side of him having a more distant link with you, I guess, is that you never know what he will and won't catch of your thoughts. You've got to be more careful than most, maybe." She catches more of Liareth's exchange with Qianvaelth, though nothing in her expression betrays it. Yet she smirks up at him, patting him on the arm. "And I'd've danced with you at the Hatching party, had you been there. There'll be other chances." She couldn't resist, just that bit. Why? Because it's him, of course. Chuckling, she gestures over at the baby bronze. "You probably have to get back. I won't keep you; I know how strict the weyrling schedule is." She shrugs, and her smile is genuine rather than mischievous (as she's sorely tempted to make it). "I'm glad I got to see you, Don."

Liareth is a calming steam among the color-shifting leaves, mist obscuring here and there as if to keep something hidden from the young mind there with hers. « It is good yours is curious, and thinks much, » she tells him coolly, « but be sure to heed him, when he asks you to listen. It is important for you both. » A fountain babbles calmly in a pensive silence. « Mine knows yours bends the truth. She says it is alright for him to. »

"Oh, you're so kind, Kyara." E'don mutters back with a strained half-smile, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "So very kind to not make this worse than it already is." If he had a mark for every time someone told him to reign in his thoughts, well, E'don would be flush with money. "And good. Good. I'm glad to hear it." The shoulder shake is met with the weyrling's own bump of shoulder against shoulder, arms snaking out to give the green rider a side-squeeze. "Just make sure you know that I'm not as much of a pervert as he lets on," E'don finally says, motioning to his dragon with another pointed look. "It was good to see you too, Kyara." And then the weyrling is booking it post haste towards the Barracks, turning round to make sure his dragon follows. "Common' Qian. No more intimate details of my life. Grub time." And then the bronze follows, all the more amused.

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