==== May 27, 2013
====Erei, W'rin
====W'rin offers last minute advice during a time jump.

Who W'rin, Erei
What W'rin offers last minute advice during a time jump.
When In the past just before the present.
Where High Reaches Weyr

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, 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 within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness.


The days, and weeks, since the second comet strike have been hard fought, and bloody. And smelly. Don't forget smelly, because so few people have the time to bathe right now. Another band of High Reaches riders are ready to make The Jump. All around there are riders checking straps, for the hundreth time, tearful goodbyes between lovers who will soon be torn apart by hundreds of years, parents strapping small children to the backs of dragons in hopes that they will have some better life than what is left on a tattern pern of this time. And in between them the careflights of dragons who are not leaving, or not leaving yet, and who are bringing in refugees and the injured, or just tired rescue workers home from their shift. In the midst of all of this is W'rin, drifting between dragons readying to depart. He tests the straps on a young bronze, not to far out of weyrlinghood. They do not hold and a furious W'rin turns to the boy, face red beneath his beard. "Are you trying to fucking kill everyone on your dragon?" He screams. Which causes not only the children still on the bronze's back but also the rider himself to begin crying. Still fuming the wingleader redoes the knot, and buckle himself. And then, not stopping to comfort the lad moves on to a green. "Are you ready rider? Do you have all the jumps memorized?" By this time his temper has simmered.

On the crown of Khetanaxeroth's crouch is a woman with two small boys. Thank Faranth's molars the green's a big'n because there's a lot of cargo, both healer related and general memorabilia. The older of the two boys is on cloud nine; he can't wait for this show to be on the road. Sandwiched behind him is a tot who wards off tears only because of the almond paste he's licking. Erei, the long black llama fur rimming her face, stares down. "My butt's been ready for nigh an hour. And counting." Neck space is at a premium. The greenrider/mother visibly takes a breath to calm both her nerves and her tongue. "We've memorized them. Any last hints?"

The two children atop the green are given a weary look, though he manages to not make them burst into tears. A hand is rubbed through a dirt clodded beard, as he examines the green before answering the woman's question. "Alright. If you want to run through them just let me know." He points to his large for his time bronze, who is simply watching from the side. "The trip is harder on the smaller dragons, but your greens are bigger than our so should fare a bit better." Especially hers. "Still, it will take its toll on her, and them. Tell R'ce if you need him to rest a little longer. Better to be safe than sorry. And this is a fairly small group so it shouldn't be an issue to wait a bit." A thoughtful pause, "And we've timed the later jumps to arrive after that first big one, so they should be expecting you. Still, no point in beating around the bush, we've had time to get use to so many women riders." Is their behavior what one would call used to women riders, "So expect some suspicious people. It'll be rough for a bit. Be ready." He looks up into the sky which is still darkend with smoke, "Still will be better than this." A grim frown for the girl.

Had Khetanaxeroth ears they would be pinned flat to her skull. At least the sullen 'any closer and I will rend your face' look is picture perfect. Not only is the green leaving her birth home behind, but it will be permanent and the link to much of her kin severed forever. Erei struggles with this outlook, her own misgivings, and the burden to pretend neither of it for the sake of her young. She's attentive to W'rin, Tsunami crest high on each red-violet shoulder. "Who's got Alsa'roor!" Lennoc spins in his seat, expression about to crack. "She'll follow, don't worry Len." Alsuroor is one of many firelizards aggregating above. "We'll do our best to fit in. Um, firelizards, can they follow or should we hold her?"

W'rin has learned to be diplomatic enough to not look to long at the woman's struggling expression, besides he knows the feeling, though less premanentally. "The sound will be different." He points to his head, a gesture that only a rider would understand, "For a little while." New voices, new idiosyncrasies. He brows pull together as his gaze moves upward to the firelizards, this he had not considered, mostly because he didn't care, or wouldn't have cared if the thought had crossed his mind. "In theory they can jump through time, but whether they would follow is another matter. The link isn't as strong, or as vital." Still he eyes, the children, "I would suggest they hang on to them. As long as the firelizards don't struggle it should be safe, and perhaps calming."

Erei is doing a good job at keeping her head though she has tried to put on the same riding glove on three times now. The three sway as the dragon beneath them lowers one of her shoulders. "Reestablish mental channels. Got it." So she says, never been done before. A singular thought command and a blue-fletched gold detaches from the throng above. She lands on Erei's extended forearm, talons appropriately balancing. "Here love, you can keep her safe. Mind her wings and keep your thoughts calm so she'll stay." Alsuroor makes the transition from person to person, eye facets reflecting fast swirls of color. The leader of this jump issues a loud call. Two minutes. Erei visually triple checks the tethers and carefully packed freight. "Thank you W'rin." It's gratitude for the moment, a past is passed.

Khetanaxeroth thinks to you, « I bespoke Valiuth with: Khetanaxeroth is a swish of fur entering at a distance to save stealth. The second to last coordinates are reviewed starting from the horizon line. »

"Here." In a surprising moment of tenderness W'rin reaches out for the glove to help her, if it will be accepted. He nods, though he is quiet for the moment to allow the woman to finish preparing, as best as one can. Her gratitude is met with a rather unpracticed smile, "See you in four hundred years, rider."

Khetanaxeroth senses Valiuth allows his mind to be over taken by the other, a momentary check for accuracy before he responds, « That is correct. Fair winds. »

Erei, hands and lap more or less full to capacity, ably leans so W'rin can fix the gauntlet. "We'll have your timeline all straightened out by time time you rejoin us," deploying a little(lot of) bravado. Then the greenrider turns to look staight ahead, soaking in every last detail her memory can paint later.

Khetanaxeroth thinks to you, « I bespoke Valiuth with: Khetanaxeroth doesn't indicate acknowledgment. Her presence of fur flares in bristles then is gone like a stray back through a dark alley. »

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