==== September 29th, 2013
==== Kyara, D'reize
==== One new rider visits another. Things are discussed, gifting is done, awkwardness is had - an afternoon is shared.

Who Kyara, D'reize
What One new rider visits another. Things are discussed, gifting is done, awkwardness is had - an afternoon is shared.
When There is 1 Turn, 1 month, and 9 days until the 12th Pass.
Where City of Dogs Weyr, Igen Weyr

City of Dogs Weyr
Some industrious stonemason has hewn a mosiac out of stone: canine heads circle, head height to a tall man, the small bubble of this cavern, each painted in varying hues of brown and yellow. Glazed tiles rise to just beneath those, old and cracked — entire panels are missing in some places, their fragile selves long disentegrated into the layer of sand coating the rough ground of the cave. to the far left, a large recess can be seen, its floor raised to a suitable height to become a dragon's couch, while a smaller, darker recess is home to the few possessions of a bachelor male: a bed, a desk, and a small dresser.

With nearly a sevenday passed since graduating from weyrlinghood, Kyara is more fully coming to appreciate the value of downtime. Whirlwind is exactly what W'rin said it would be - intense, trying…exhausting. But so very worthwhile. Still, the adjustment is being made, and she finds herself missing her clutchsiblings quite often - even if she does see them around in off hours. She didn't even get to run into some of them at the party after the ceremony, and one in particular is on her mind at the moment as she turns something small over and over in her palm. She has Liareth speak to Aeshnidaeth, asking if her rider would mind a visitor, while Kyara sits quietly in the mild cool of the autumn afternoon on her ledge for the sake of simple relaxation. Then she pulls herself up onto her lifemate's neck, and the green pair glides easily out in the direction of the Bazaar, awaiting an answer.

And the answer is readily forthcoming, as frank and gentle as ever. «Come.» And D'reize, inside his weyr, rises from his little desk to prepare a welcome for his clutchsib, smiling a little at the idea of a visit — just for the sake of visiting. Having begun his healing studies, his brain is often full of such minutiae that he often wonders where his thoughts end and the inflow of anatomy begins. Will he ever sort it all out? Perhaps. Perhaps. All the while, he waits on Kyara's visit with a sense of anticipatory glee.

With no straps required for such a short trip, Kyara's boots meet Aeshnidaeth's ledge almost as soon as Liareth's talons do. « Aeshnidaeth, » is the simple, pleasantly melodic greeting the graceful green has for her more subdued sister, accompanied by the gentle steam of a quietly bubbling pool and a hint of lavender; she is quite content with the order of things this afternoon. « You are looking well, sister. » Kyara enters with easy strides, shedding her jacket in favor of the long-sleeved, elegantly-cut tunic of forest green she wears beneath. "Hello, D'reize," she greets, voice quiet but grin bright as she surveys his weyr. Her eyes fall on the work strewn across his desk. "How go the healing studies?"

Aeshnidaeth turns her head gracefully, giving Liareth a soft croon in response, though she does not speak. Meanwhile, D'reize is gesturing to the weyr interior, where cool drinks await. "So many lessons, so little time." He grins sideways, ruffling his thick hair absently. "Makes me glad I had some lessoning in it beforehand." Otherwise all the blood and gore would shake him to his very core. Those Healer texts are rather graphic in nature.

"And we thought weyrling lessons were a handful," Kyara comments with a wry chuckle. Liareth, for her part, gives a quiet, easy rumble as she settles in the sunlight on the ledge across from her sister. Perhaps the pretty green is a little on the tired side, like her rider. But who could blame them? "How has it been, settling into Mirage?" she ventures, amber gaze taking in the space once more before settling on D'reize. "I have to say…it's been something, working on getting used to not flying with all of you regularly anymore."

"You're telling me." D'reize rolls his eyes expressively, pouring out a selection of cool drinks, including a bit of Benden white — hey, he's a rider now, he can get these things! — for them to work their way through before offering Kyara a chair like a gentleman. "Mirage is… interesting." Between Vergora and Corelle, sometimes he wonders what he's been thrown into. A pack of wild felines? Something more sinister? Who knows. "How's Whirlwind, besides overworked?" And here he offers her a devilish grin before continuing, "It's not like we can't collaborate on clutch-flights, or something. For old times' sake."

Taking the proferred chair with a soft thank you, Kyara stretches a little when she sits with a hushed groan, almost illustrating part of her answer about Whirlwind. "Oh, that about sums it up," she replies, grinning right back as she eyes the wine. Wine isn't her usual drink of choice, but it is a Benden white; it seems sort of appealing right now, honestly. For whatever reason. "It's hard work, and we're still adjusting. Everyone's still adjusting to us, too, but it helps that there were already other women in the wing." A slow shrug draws her shoulders up before an abrupt drop. "We'll be alright." Hmming a little at his one-word assessment of Mirage, she crosses one knee over the other. "I'd imagine so, being around the weyrwomen. I like Sadaiya a lot, and I haven't dealt with Tuli much at all, though she seems alright. Corelle…well, we already know how we both feel about her. At least I'yn's there with you." Smiling gently, she says, "I never did get to congratulate you. Where'd you go after the ceremony? I was hoping to run into you at the party."

D'reize laughs, sinking into a seat of his own and stretching his legs out. "Sadaiya's a hoot — smart as a whip, though she doesn't always lord it over all. Tuli's also all right, I guess." He hasn't had much to do with most of them, so busy is he with his nose in his books. The idea of Corelle has him rolling his eyes heavenward again, though he says nothing more regarding that woman. "Oh, aye, I'yn and I both are being tortured by the dragonhealers." He raises his eyebrows a little, then, looking sheepish. "I didn't go. I wanted to spend the night alone, reflecting." He's an introvert like that.

Nodding slightly in sympathy, Kyara sips at the wine. Not bad at all, she observes. Perhaps a little sharper than the Benden vintages she recalls from the past…but not at all disagreeable. "Mmmm. Quiet as you are, my dear fellow greenrider, I would have been hard pressed to get a dance out of you, I'm sure," she teases lightly, subtly stretching her leg to tap the toe of her boot against his own and then drawing it back. "I'll admit, I thought about doing the same. Briefly. I don't blame you; this is all…definitely something worth reflecting on, when there are moments to do so." Her hand strays down to her pouch then, a shallow sigh escaping her.

D'reize chuckles softly at her teasing, reaching for a glass of that white himself. "Mm. Rather tart. Recipe's changed over the Turns." He are disappoint; it isn't their usual standard — but nothing in this Pass is. The very idea of dancing with Kyara makes him flush, just a little, quickly hidden behind his cup. He hasn't thought about that at all. Nope. Not even once. ANYHOOT: "It settles the nerves, to take time to think. How was the party, anyway?"

"And the centuries," Kyara tacks on to the assessment of the wine, an eyebrow rising slightly at the same time as a small smirk. She does notice that he flushes a little, trying to hide it behind his cup, and her other eyebrow joins the first as the smirk evens out to a subtle upward curve of her lips. That is her tactic, when she blushes! That D'reize does the same has her regarding him with amber eyes brightened, dancing ever so slightly. But she blinks away with an easy laugh, shifting as she pulls her hand out of her pouch when he asks his question. "It was fun! I didn't stay the whole time, myself, but I had some good talks with people. Gave a few gifts. I have to say, it's really nice to be able to go back to being friends with Sienna. Rank making you have to watch the way you interact with people you knew before it was given isn't the easiest thing."

D'reize gives Kyara a long, sad-puppy stare. She's ENJOYING HIS DISCOMFITURE. And then he grins right back at her, getting over it rather quickly — it was funny. And with there only being the two of them to see his boyish reaction… well. All things are well, aren't they? "Mm. I'm sure. You tend to miss your friends when that happens." He shrugs amiably. "Tell you true, I never really made any before Impressing."

Enjoying his discomfiture? Perish the thought! Well, maybe don't perish it entirely… And then D'reize is giving her a sad-puppy face, and Kyara is stifling a giggle behind a hand clapped over her mouth, because it's very cute. She never giggles. His boyish reaction, her giggling, and only them to know; yes, all things are well! Dropping her hand to take another drink, she tilts her head at him curiously. "Really? Was it just that you weren't here long before Candidacy, or was it more not having the opportunity?" Not that she had terribly many herself beyond We'b before becoming a Candidate; she can relate slightly on that count.

"Mostly that I was a loner." D'reize admits candidly. "Wasn't much for the usual with the boys, you know." IN other words, D'reize refused to behave like a kegger-drunk fratboy, and the other boys shunned him for it. With a few exceptions. "I don't think I wanted an opportunity to know more'n a few of 'em, anyway. You lot are more interesting.” Vashae, Kyara, and We'bey, anyway. D'reize is picky, very picky, about those he hangs out with. "Shaffit." He sits up, eyeing Kyara sidelong. "You decided what to do about flights yet?" Cause D'reize needs IDEAS.

"I'm glad you think so," Kyara says, grinning at D'reize over the edge of her glass before taking another sip. But then there is that ISSUE looming on the suddenly not-so-distant horizon for them both being brought up again, and she sobers quickly. She shifts a little uncomfortably, absently drawing her chair slightly closer to him in the process as she tries to inspect something else to drink that happens to be nearer to him than to her. "Uhm…well…" Her turn to flush a little, though she doesn't try to hide it. "You mean about whenever ours go proddy? Where what happens to us and them both are concerned? Or…things leading up to them?" Or all of the above? She rubs her forehead with a few fingers, her own glance a bit sidelong in turn.

D'reize shifts, too, regretting his choice of topics. But since it's out there, he has to roll with it. "I just…I am worried, Kyara."

Something wrenches very slightly in Kyara's chest at D'reize's voicing of his worry, and her eyebrows tilt and rise in a visual to mirror that; it's her own, as well. With a deep breath, she leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees and pressing her hands together. "I am, too," she whispers. After a moment, she straightens again, regarding him steadily. "We both know there's no way of predicting how our dragons are going to be, when it comes time. Or how that's going to change us. Not before the first time it happens. All we can do is just…hold to what we were taught. I mean," the corner of her mouth gives a tiny twist upward, "I think we can both rest assured ours won't be like…Kehemath or Sayto, most likely." Another sigh, and she shakes her head. "It's all about them, not us. All we can do is let it be what it will be." Almost hesitantly, Kyara reaches out, clasping D'reize's hand gently and squeezing it, comforting. "It'll be okay, D'reize." There's a small smile for him after that, tentatively reassuring. "And as for…what needs to happen before…" She's suddenly acutely aware of where her hand is and starts to pull it away. "Well…we just have to find someone we each trust." Her eyes are pointedly averted from his in her own realization of how few men she truly does trust…one of whom is sitting right in front of her now. Faranth…

D'reize's elbows are on his knees, his hands dangling. "That's my main worry — the not knowing. I can't bloody know — who I'll end up with, what she'll be like… " He stops, and takes a breath to calm himself again. "Logically, I know it's about her. My heart is still not at ease." And then he is startled to find Kyara's hand in his, and looks up. "You're right — there are few." And his hand tightens on hers, firmly.

"Logic," Kyara says slowly, eyes still not going to D'reize, "seldom sets anyone's heart at ease, I think." Then his hand tightens on hers, and that does force her eyes up, her breath hitching strangely in her throat. It's very similar to a reaction she's had before, to someone's hand on hers…and yet so very different. Better? Safer? Gazing intently at him for a long moment, hearing her own heart perhaps a little more loudly than usual, Kyara finds herself with nothing else to say. Presently, something drives her to do something else; she's aware of what she pulled out of her pouch all of a sudden. The small wooden disc she produces is lightwood surrounded by dark, all without the aid of stains. Carved into the darker wood with deep detail, a dragon curls around the scene struck in the lighter grain - trees along a rolling hill, contrasting the sharpness of mountains in the backdrop. The edge of the little amulet has been rounded, and the whole of it thinly coated in matte lacquer and hung from a simple leather cord. The memory depicted in the carved imagery is clear - the peace of a fairly recent autumn sunrise. It's a pleasant moment that Kyara has found good to go back to after the tedium of drills, sweeps, and other obligations and worries. Perhaps he has from time to time, too; she doesn't know. But she does know that it was something D'reize enjoyed as well. Turning his hand over, she presses it into his palm. "I meant to give that to you. The other night." It comes out as a whisper, though she smiles at him. An interesting choice of action, to be sure…but she honestly had no idea what else to do…or did, and was uncertain.

D'reize is inspecting that necklace with an intentness that means he's trying not to look at Kyara. And then, he does. "So I made you something, too." And out comes a wristlet of orange, green, and black braided into an intricate star pattern, the green running like a river through the orange and black. "We did this on long voyages to keep our hands nimble."

It takes Kyara a moment to register that…D'reize has something for her. A grin lights up her face as she runs her fingers along the bracelet, eyes sharply taking in the detailed weave. "You…made this for me? Wh-" She stops herself from asking why, laughing quietly instead. Why did she have the wood shaped for him? "It certainly kept your hands well-tended, then." She isn't exactly looking at him herself throughout this, and when she does, it's a glance up somewhat through her lashes, almost…demure, in a way. "Thank you," is her half-whispered acceptance. "I…wasn't expecting it. At all. You didn't have to do that."

“Nor you, this." And D'reize runs his finger over the smooth wood. "So it would appear we both like making pleasing jewelry." He pulls it over his head, settling it in place with a gentle smile. "Thank you." And to emphasize his gratitude, he offers her a half a bow from his seat. Is this where all those "lessons" are supposed to come into play? Well, he is just going to not do that. "Uh. If… if you want… " Pause, blunder. "You can stay. As long as you want." Does he even know what he's inviting her for? Of course not.

"Well…I had some help, to be fair," Kyara admits quietly, concerning the amulet she gave him. She grins at his bow, inexplicably flushing at it, her eyes darting back and forth between random things nearby and back to him for a few moments before she decides to concentrate on getting the bracelet tied around her wrist. It's not easy, with one hand; she has done something like this before, but the size of the thing makes it just enough for the tie to elude her. Absently, she stands up as if doing so would give her a better angle. It doesn't, of course. "Ummm…" Sheepish in her own turn, she holds out her wrist. "Help?" If he's blundering over what he's inviting her to do, it's no more awkward to her ears than she's being to herself. "I…I'll stay. If you'd like me to. I have some time." And regardless of whether or not the awkwardness continues…she does.

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