====February 13th, 2014
====Coora, Amaris, Ebben
====Expected for one, unexpected for two, a lunchtime picnic have you!

Who Coora, Amaris, Ebben
What Expected for one, unexpected for two, a lunchtime picnic have you!
When It is sunset of the sixteenth day of the first month of the first turn of the 12th pass.
Where Lower Bowl, Soutuhern Weyr

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Lower Bowl
Cobblestones sweep as far as the eye can see, a unique feature to the lower section of the bowl — but necessary, perhaps, as the stepped western bowl drains off into this high-trafficked area. The shallow bowl is bounded by craggy-black bowlwall with entrances pockmarked - and some boarded over in an effort to prevent entry from un-renovated caverns. Directly south, the wall neatly crumbles away to roll southerly into rollicking fields of soft hills; a glance of the stables can be seen through the gap, nestled against the entrance bridge that spans westward.


Coora has a picnic lunch in a bag, and she trots from the living caverns to the side of the bowl where Sidaaeth reclines in the sun. The petite brown dragon is laying on his side with his injured leg stretched out before him. Coora reaches his side and gently sets her bag down, rifling around inside to pull out a blanket. The blanket is spread near Sidaaeth's head on the cobblestones, then the brownrider brings the bag over and begins setting up her lunch. There's plenty of food, enough to feed multiple people, but Coora takes a seat and begins eating a meat pie, with no expectations of company.

Midday means that just about everyone who's able has swarmed the Caverns for lunch. Amaris…is not one of those people. Her dress is smeared with mud, and it clings to her boots as well. Instead of being horrified over it, as some people may be, the young woman merely seems amused. Not at the mud - but at the brown flitter trying to catch her attention. "I taught you better," she scolds him, "go catch your own, I know you're able." She points until he goes, and shakes her head with something of an amused look. Then Coora is spotted, and Sidaaeth of course. "Good afternoon, rider." And then to Sidaaeth, "hello to you as well!" His leg is eyed with curiosity. "I don't mean to intrude, so if I am.." Tell her to shell off, and she will! "What happened to his leg?"

Coora watches Amaris approach while munching on her meat pie. When the woman is close enough, Coora sets the food down on a plate and gives the girl a wave. "Good afternoon," she replies, though the sound is nearly drowned out by Sidaaeth's happy rumble of greeting. « Hello, young lady. » Sidaaeth thinks to Amaris, though he is never sure whether the recipient will hear him or not. Coora grins, knowing Sidaaeth's innate politeness requires him to respond when spoken directly to. In fact, "requires" may be too strong of a word, as Sidaaeth delights in being spoken to and replying. "Oh, he strained it, so we were told to elevate it. His awkward position is the best way we've figured out to elevate it."

Well, hello to you too! Amaris seems both startled and delighted by Sidaaeth's returned greeting, and gives both of them a delighted smile. While she knows every dragon's different, it's refreshing to meet one that acknowledges although her experience is mainly based off of Qyth. And most of her time is spent doing…Herder-y things. "You're a dear, and it's very nice to meet you." Her opinion of him thus formed, she turns her attention back to his rider. "Aah, I see. I hope it heals fast!" And then, because the manners drilled into her at a young age dictate it, "ah, I'm sorry. I'm Amaris, Herder Senior Apprentice. It's very nice to meet you both." Cue a curtsy that's perhaps a touch more impish than serious, but well.

Sidaaeth rumbles again, delightedly. He rolls over to his stomach, tucking his injured leg beneath him, but better angling himself so he can move his head closer to Amaris. He likes scratches behind his eyes….. Coora rolls her eyes at Sidaaeth's begging and waves a hand at her blanket of food. "Would you like to join me, Amaris? I'm Coora, rider of brown Sidaaeth." Coora reaches into her bag and pulls out a bottle of wine. "I have wiiiiiine," She grins, singsonging her offer.

Amaris is all too happy to obey the unspoken request, and scritches behind Sidaaeth's eyes obligingly. Coora's invitation is met with a smile from the young woman, and a nod of acceptance. "Although I'd probably better say no thank you to the wine. The journeymen tend to frown on that sort of thing." Apparently if it wasn't for that caveat.. After a few more scritches for Sidaaeth, she joins the older woman on the blanket. "Have you and Sidaaeth been here long?" The two humans and dragon sit in the sun, with the humans upon a blanket; and a picnic lunch. "I'm usually up to my nose in runner dung - not literally, of course! - unless H'ris drags me out to see people too." Now she just looks sheepish.

Coora scoots over on the blanket and rearranges some of the dishes of food to ensure that there is plenty of room for Amaris. "Ok, no wine. I do have a skin of water as well." The brownrider digs in her bag again and pulls out a waterskin. Sidaaeth returns to his awkward position, lying on his side with his right leg stuck out straight and elevated. His head is carefully moved so as not to disturb the picnic contents, and rested beside Coora. Once he's settled, his lifemate reaches out a hand to idly scratch his eyeridges. "We're pretty new around here. Just transfered from Igen a sevenday ago."

Not so much wandering, as unobservantly knocking into the lanes of hot afternoon traffic, Ebben is jostled from his journal and ping-ponged about for a few uncomfortable moments until he's shot out nearly atop of the two women settled in for lunch. Unbalanced and teetering for a moment, Ebb's hand shoots reflexively out to steady him. Only a moment too soon, he realizes the vague, rock-colored mass he is about to fall into is actually a breathing, comfortable dragon. He rights himself in an ungraceful wobble, which saves him from unnecessary contact with the creature but does place him awkwardly on top of the blanket, toes nearly in the food, and expression politely bewildered. "Um, hi?"

Sidaaeth can't possibly move out of the way in time, but he's a nice cushy place for Ebben to land, if he must. Sidaaeth rumbles a gentle caution at the healer, drawing Coora's attention. She jumps to her feet, but there's little she can do to help Ebben from the other side of the blanket. "Are you ok?" She questions, circling around the blanket to check on the young man. She crouches beside the fallen man and indelicately pokes a finger at him.

The startled image of the Healer all but landing ontop of Sidaaeth has Amaris a touch startled, and her eyebrows raising in surprise. She stands as well, but since Coora's more or less already there, it leaves her looking a bit out of place as she moves to join the two. "Erm." So eloquent. "Are you alright..?" Coora's poking at the man almost has Amaris giggling, but she catches herself in time. You shouldn't laugh at Healers who didn't really mean to do something amusing, probably! "Noonday traffic's rough." Is instead what the young woman settles on saying sympathetically.

The rumble draws Ebben's attention quicker than Coora does, and the healer apologetically scoots a little further away from the dragon as he attempts to pat down his figurative feathers and collect himself. "Me?" He says at length, dusting himself off with an amused, if embarrassed smile. "I'm fine, just clumsy." Carefully inching his toes back from the picnic spread he glances at the rib poke administered by Coora and responds with an amused grimace. "All in one piece, assuming I haven't pushed the poor gent to eat me whole." The gent, one might assume, is Sidaeth. Amaris gets an apologetic side-glance, her knot and rank detected in the exposition of neatly organized loops. "Senior apprentice too?" And with that question, it appears that Ebben has dramatically joined the picnic and surreptitiously points a finger towards some fruit. "Are those…?" Ungainly entrances are well disposed to appetite-based distractions and opportunistic nibbling.

The brownrider pulls her finger back as Ebben answers, "Ok, but Sidaaeth would have caught you if he could. He's not going to eat you." Sidaaeth gives a rumble of agreement, lifting his head over the picnic to get closer to Coora and Ebben. There's a whirling yellow eye looking at the healer in concern, as well as the brownrider and herder. "Well, if you're all right, sit up and join us. A very nice caverns girl gave me more than enough food." Coora leaves off Ebben's side, shooing the brown dragon's head and neck out of the way. Sidaaeth pulls his head away and returns to his previous position beside Coora's spot, waiting while his rider circles the blanket and seats herself.

"That I am." Amaris agrees readily, her eyes alit with mischief. "But a different sort, of course." She returns to her previous spot, and settles in, actually remembering to grab something to eat this time as well. "Thank you, Coora, for letting us join you and Sidaaeth." Because she's not sure she said that before, and is perhaps secretly mortified! "And thank you too, Sidaaeth!" Then, to Ebbens, because one can't be too curious, "have you been here long? I'm not sure I've seen you about before, but as I was saying earlier to Coora…that doesn't really mean much!"

Ebben grabs at the fruit, peeling away the outer, slightly fuzzed layer to get to the seedy, succulent segments beneath. "Just gave you food?" Ebben looks impressed, giving Coora the slow once over of face-commit-to-memory. Excessive food must equate to importance, or maybe, who knows. The point is that Ebben apparently believes that status and food are inexplicably linked. "Coora, is it?" Fishtailing off the end of Amaris' manners as he pops the freshly peeled fruit in his mouth and licks away the lip-strung juice. One fruit-sticky palm extends towards the rider though his gaze takes in both women. "The name's Ebben."

Coora tucks her legs to the side and smoothes her skirts around them. "Oh, you're more than welcome." Sidaaeth seconds her, responding directly to Amaris, « You're welcome. » He vocally croons at the herder before settling his head against Coora's legs for a nap. "Especially not in my case as I'm so new to Southern myself." Ebben gets a nod and a grin, "Yeah, I asked for a picnic, but she gave me enough food for four. I guess I should have specified a picnic for one. Oh yeah, I'm Coora, and this is Sidaaeth."

Amaris beams again at Sidaaeth, and nibbles on her not-actually-pilfered food. Or at least she does, until she spots a fellow apprentice. "Shells, I know that look." She sighs. "Um. Excuse me, please." A quick curtsy is bobbed, and the Herder quickly heads toward the other, younger Herder. The two soon disappear into the stables, after a few brief moments of conversation.

Ebben grabs at the fruit, peeling away the outer, slightly fuzzed layer to get to the seedy, succulent segments beneath. "Just gave you food?" Ebben looks impressed, giving Coora the slow once over of face-commit-to-memory. Excessive food must equate to importance, or maybe, who knows. The point is that Ebben apparently believes that status and food are inexplicably linked. "Coora, is it?" Fishtailing off the end of Amaris' manners as he pops the freshly peeled fruit in his mouth and licks away the lip-strung juice. One fruit-sticky palm extends towards the rider though his gaze takes in both women. "The name's Ebben."

Coora tucks her legs to the side and smoothes her skirts around them. "Oh, you're more than welcome." Sidaaeth seconds her, responding directly to Amaris, « You're welcome. » He vocally croons at the herder before settling his head against Coora's legs for a nap. "Especially not in my case as I'm so new to Southern myself." Ebben gets a nod and a grin, "Yeah, I asked for a picnic, but she gave me enough food for four. I guess I should have specified a picnic for one. Oh yeah, I'm Coora, and this is Sidaaeth."

Amaris beams again at Sidaaeth, and nibbles on her not-actually-pilfered food. Or at least she does, until she spots a fellow apprentice. "Shells, I know that look." She sighs. "Um. Excuse me, please." A quick curtsy is bobbed, and the Herder quickly heads toward the other, younger Herder. The two soon disappear into the stables, after a few brief moments of conversation.

"I'm a new arrival myself," Ebben offers by way of reply, his attention diverted briefly by Amaris' abrupt departure before it turns back to the spread and his fingers nab a roll. "Came from a posting at Gar with a couple Journeymen and a Master when we heard about the Craft swell and progressive networking of disciplines going on up here." He shrugs, leaning back on his elbows as he angles himself a bit more into the passing shade of a forming cloud. "You like it here so far?"

Coora nods along with Ebben's explanation, "That's a long way to travel from home. I hope you like it here." Coora gives an emphatic nod, "Yes, I do. The heat is more like Ista than Igen. Igen has so much sand whipping about…. I didn't like having to wear a veil to keep the sand out of my eyes." She leans back with her cup of wine, comfortable in the heat in her loose dress. "I don't mind this heat and Sidaaeth loves the sun down here."

"I don't mind the heat so much, as most of the day to day stuff finds me in the hall or in the jungle, but Gar doesn't get the sort of humidity Southern does. I feel damp, just, all the time." Vexation passes briefly across the healer's countenance before he goes back to munching peacefully on his roll as his eyes watch the cloud slowly flicker further into the path of Rukbat. "Igen sounds like quite the place. Never been myself, but can't say I've heard a great many recommendations. Wouldn't suit my specialty anyway. Not a great many plants out there to learn my way around herbal medicine." Munch, munch. "Coming against any friction with that scrapper under you?" He asks, gesturing to Sidaaeth. After a pause he realizes the interpretation that could be gleaned from so blunt a question and tempers it a bit. Haven't seen many women on browns, it's refreshing."

"Yeah, you're right. Ista Island didn't get half the humidity as Southern. But at least it's not sandy and hot like Igen." Coora finishes off her mug of wine and returns to her abandoned meat pie. "Not many female riders these days. I'm an oldtimer. Came forward to Igen, stayed there a few Turns and you know the rest of the story." Coora's eyeroll at the beginning of her statement attests to her progressive beliefs that females are well able to ride chromatic dragons, unlike some nowtimers.

Ebben chuckles at the tone with which Coora explains her oldtime status as he finishes off his roll, sliding one arm over his eyes as he stretches out to his fullest and the sun pours back in full on the little square of blanket and the small picnic. "Y'all have bigger dragons too. You can almost always tell someone who made the jump by looking at his or her mate. He's got some heft." His voice is buttered with relaxed adoration as he lifts an elbow just enough to take another peek at Sidaaeth. Yep. Big.

Coora nods again, shrugging. "Sidaaeth used to be the smallest brown in the weyr. Now there's a bunch smaller than him." Sidaaeth is pretty small for a brown, despite his large, floppy feet. He does have a chubby belly, though, and plenty of meat along his shoulders. "So you're a healer, I guess?" He did mention medicine, but only briefly.

Ebben is, in Coora's defense, positioned such that his knot is tucked under an arm and not readily identifiable. "Whelp, a healer in training anyway. I'm qualified to slather a scrape or two with something, and that's about it without supervision." There's a light shift in his wrist to make room for the unfolding of a grin. "They do let me get out in the jungle a bit and harvest some. The life of an apprentice, ya know?" Or, well, maybe Coora doesn't. But, it's not exactly glamorously independent. "Did you get picked out of a craft to stand?"

"Well, that doesn't seem like a lot of fun." Coora's never been in a craft, so she doesn't know the evolution of apprenticehood. At Ebben's question, she says as much out loud. "I've never been an apprentice. My parents are riders, but they stayed behind with my brothers. I was asked to stand a couple times before my Sidaaeth was on the sands." Coora has finished her meat pie and is pouring another cup of wine when she asks, "Have you ever Stood?"

Ebben eases back onto his elbows in order to prop himself up and survey the blanket for more grazing. "No, never did. Stood next to a kid who got sniffed out though, thought it might have been me for a minute." He doesn't seem particularly saddened by the memory as he plucks up a meatroll and begins to munch anew. "This is my first time being incorporated with a Weyr, its entirely different. I only saw a few search riders and our old watch rider when I was a kid. Now they're popping up like milk weed." His smile is jovial and he takes another bite as he peers over. "How old were you when you impressed, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Twenty three! I was the oldest of the candidates and almost too old to stand. After being left standing twice, I didn't think it was going to happen. But Sidaaeth was there. It just goes to show that weyrbred has nothing to do with it. It has to be the right dragon." Coora drapes her arm over the sleeping dragon's neck, "And he's perfect for me." Sidaaeth gives a rumble in his sleep, in response to his lifemate's touch.

Ebben snorts softly in either agreement or incredulity, though his expression gives little other than general contentment as he makes a grab for the water skin. "Must be quite the ride, standing in front of breaking eggs with an audience and the possibility of a life-ending mauling. Don't know if I'd have the stones, honestly." He tenses at the mere thought, though since he's never been to an actual hatching, his mental image may be a tad more dramatic and covered in viscera than the actual experience.

Coora laughs, flicking her short hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's only kinda like that. We do egg touchings, which I've heard helps get the dragonets ready to bond with people. It minimizes the danger of maulings because the dragons are accustomed to people sorta." Coora begins cleaning up the picnic, putting away the food carefully. "Is there anything you want before I put it away?"

Ebben grabs a couple fruits, two meatrolls, and some wherry jerky. "Waste not…" he trails off while stuffing his pockets. Really, they do feed them in the craft quarters. He just… it's all… there. For him. To eat. "Shall I allow you to have your blanket back?" He moves to a full sit position, preparing to stand at the word while he bans one more meatroll and pops it in his mouth for good measure.

Coora laughs at the apprentice's food hogging. "It's ok, it will be eaten later. But take as much as you want." She shakes her head at Ebben and waves her hand in a sit back down gesture. "No, no, I'm just making more room." That way she can recline on the blanket too.

Ebben returns to some of his own reclining, watching the silhouette of the dragon circle overhead. "You ever see the big cats everyone always talks about? I haven't gotten too deep in the wilds yet, though I've gone a bit further to find some good, short climbs." He props his head on one palm as he peers over at Coora. "Sweeps must take you pretty far out, yeah?"

"No, but I haven't been deep in the jungle either. When we fly overhead, the dragons chase away anything below us." The bane of Coora's existence are sweeps. They are the most boring part of dragonriding that she can think of. Coora finishes tucking the food stuffs away and lies down on her side, head propped on one arm. "What's the most interesting thing you have seen since you've been here?"

Ebben mms, chewing on the question a bit as his eyes drift back to the drills slowly filling in overhead. "Well, I came across a wild nest of firelizard eggs. I'd never seen anything like that before." He pauses before a light yawn peppers his tone. "They eggs were all cold, however. Like they never hatched, which I hear can happen with some of the greens. I only knew a couple people in the hall with firelizards in Gar so I was all set to wow the other apprentices." He coughs sheepishly. "Suppose it's for the better." The sun streams down a little thicker as it begins its slow descent into deeper afternoon, the soft hum of insects droning away as a slight breeze ruffles the blanket. "How about you?"

"Oh wow. That's both exciting and sad." Coora's eyes are watering a touch, and her smile wavers. "I've never found a firelizard nest in the wild. But I used to have a gold firelizard. She used to hide her eggs in my weyr. She didn't understand about coming forward, though, so I haven't found a firelizard egg since then." Coora's lips turn into a definate frown and Sidaaeth awakens to rumble worriedly at her.

Ebben looks a bit unsettled that he's unsettled Coora. "I'm sorry about your gold, sounds like a hard turn." He slowly moves to a stand and smiles brightly at Coora. "On a more pleasant note however, it was a real pleasure to meet you and Sidaaeth." He's about to address Sidaaeth directly when a Journeyman-knotted healer comes into the bowl and gives a small wave of summons. "If only I could picnic all afternoon…"

Coora stands as well, smiling slightly. "It was nice to meet you too. I like to picnic for lunch, so if you ever see me, feel free to join in." Coora finishes cleaning up the lunch dishes, then, after Ebben departs, she sweeps up the blanket and drapes it over her arm. The bag is draped over her shoulder and Coora mounts the awakened Sidaaeth, preparatory to departing.

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