The night is clear and bright, stars twinkling merrily in the darkness. The weather isn't quite done with winter just yet so the occasional breeze reminds any who would dare to climb so high as the Star Stones. Wrapped in a thick cloak made from an old blanket, Nevik — the young, clumsy, Healer — climbs into view. His nightly ritual of making the long climb to the small ledge allows him one of the few pleasures within a Weyr, solitude. The young bronze that he found only a few days ago is held protectively within the confines of his cloak, nestled in the crook of his arm as he takes only a step or two away from the stairway. He's in no mood to test his 'luck' near the edge. Once settled, he opens the cloak to allow the Bronze to have a peek at the night's sky. Akron seems less interested in stars and more interested in body heat and remains happily ensconced within his human's arms.

Despite having a dragon, it seems a certain young bronzerider has opted for a little exercise, coming up the stairs from the living caverns with a mug of steaming klah in hand. S'yn's amber eyes are wide and dark as they soak in the faint starlight to reflect it back with a silvery hue glimmering in those intelligent depths, the teen dressed in black wherhide trous and jacket with a emerald tunic beneath it. Habitually he sweeps the stones to acknowledge the watchrider with a nod before sashaying toward the edge, no fear in that youth's stride as he comes to perch at the entrance to the abyss far below, even peering down briefly at the people still milling about in the after-supper evening. He notices a new face as he withdraws from his reverie slightly, offering Nevik a nod of greeting rather than break the peaceful silence that pervades the air, disturbed only by the odd whisper of wind or the sound of dragons carried on it.

Kultir moves with near silence up from the living caverns below, the only sound is the occasional scuff of his leather soles on the stones as the tracker follows the young bronzerider up to the Stones. A steaming mug is his only burden besides the thick, cape-like cloak that swirls no lower than his knees since he's left his pack behind. Drawing in a deep breath, he exhales softly as he steps onto the broader area so far above the bowl. Sharp amber eyes catch sight of an unfamiliar face and Nevik receives a nod of greeting before he steps further out onto the ledge. The height no longer bothers the young man since that long-ago bout of fear during his Candidacy so he can look out and down more easily now though his heart still hammers if he gets too close to the edge.

It's unclear if Nevik is watching the watchrider or the stars or the night itself. His eyes are simply directed in a near-upward direction. The arrival of the young rider and the older guy is acknowledge with a nod of greeting to both. The bronze dragonette in his arm is small, perhaps only a few days old by the looks of him, raises his head just to peers in their direction, yawn, and then tuck its nose under a folded wing. "Rider," he acknowledges the Lynx wingrider and breaks the silence of the Star Stones. His face watches the young man cautiously — hoping that he's not relaying some message from Master Aemon that would draw him away from the high ledge so soon.

The scuffle of familiar steps behind him makes S'yn glance over his shoulder at the tracker with a small smile of acknowledgement for the one he calls brother. That head turns to look to the Healer again at the verbalized greeting, though he cannot see the knot below that swathing blanket. "S'yn," he offers by way of introduction, shifting the mug to his left hand to offer his right in a friendly manner as he takes a few steps away from the ledge to enable him to turn and face the Apprentice properly. "Well met…?" The end of his sentence lilts upward in obvious inquiry for the stranger's name, his gold eyes fixing green ones keenly as he actually peers down at Nevik, though not by much.

Kultir catches sight of that cautious look and lifts an eyebrow slightly, not used to such scrutiny from folks he's never met though at least it's better than some of the looks he's been getting recently. He returns the young rider's smile though his gaze moves outward where he can just see the outline of the jungle encroaching on the stone-bound Weyr. At the sound of the two voices, he turns slightly though he doesn't care to intrude on his brother's … or this stranger's solitude any more than he's already done. Lifting his mug, he takes a long swallow of the steaming liquid as he notes the presence of the firelizard peeking out before tucking it's snout back into the warmth of its nest.

Nevik has to partially shuffle his arms a little to pull one out to greet the rider properly and not disturb the sleeping bronze in the crook of the other. "Well met, rider…call me Nevik. I'm a junior apprentice within the Healer Hall." His tone is polite, friendly but still with a respectful tone to it. "Please forgive me for not standing — I've gotten him to sleep finally and I'd like him to stay that way as long as possible. The other apprentices have started…" he pauses in mid-phrase to re-think his words and start again, "…they would rather that I take him outside when he starts calling for food and attention."

Clasping that hand firmly as it is placed into his palm, S'yn smiles at the Healer with a gentle nod of understanding for the predicament Nevik faces with that newly hatched fire-lizard. "I have a couple so I understand how… bothersome their cries for sustenance can be." As if summoned by that mention a pair of grown fire-lizards — a blue with hints of purple in his hide and a bronze that is quite large, though beyond that relatively mundane — pop in from between and land on the young rider's shoulders, both sets of glowing eyes peering down at the newborn in a whirling blue-green hue. "My advice would be to keep some jerky around at least, or some roasted meat. It'll let you stuff his gullet long enough to get to some proper nourishment and save your eardrums." A wry smirk tugs the boy's lips lopsidedly as a soft chuckle escapes. "But I digress and I'm sure you've heard this all before." Another sip of klah is taken before he comes to sit next to the Healer, glancing up at those glimmering stars and the wide band of dust cutting through them. "New to Southern?" he asks without diverting his gaze.

Kultir moves to lean quietly against the wall near the entrance to the stairs a short distance from the two younger men, one foot bracing against the stone behind him. He chuckles softly at the advice his brother offers and smiles when the two firelizards pop into sight. "Kalea had that problem with hers too, always hungry and creeling." His baritone voice is low so as not to interrupt the other's conversation though he listens as intently as if he were joining it. His own gaze is focused upward as well, absent sips of his klah taken as he just enjoys the quietude of the night.

Nevik nods and adjusts himself by pulling his legs up to fold them before him. Leaning against one of the stones that form a faint edge of the perimeter, he makes certain not to look over the edge. Nope. Not gonna do that. Oh shards he just looked. It was just a glance but part of him just got smaller. With a long blink he drives that image to the back of his memory and locks it away with a key. "I've already been through the better part of three, small meat rolls with him. I'm going to have to bribe some of the kitchen staff I think," he grins and seems quite happy to have found such a companion. "I only arrived a few sevendays ago — transferred from Fort Weyr to help with the Fall," he explains and turns his attention to the source of the deep voice. Copper-green eyes scan the figure from head to toe in a flash to determine his rank. "This is my first… couldn't really handle one when I was being fostered. This one was even an accident… of a sort. Didn't plan it at all."

S'yn chuckles wryly at the assertion that the fire-lizard was an accident. "Zhiros—" the blue is gestured to with the mug "—was an accident. Found him while out jogging with a friend. Tischler—" the bronze gets an absent head jerk toward the other shoulder "—was one I found while roaming the beach. He just sort of whirlwinded himself into my lap and ate my lunch." A soft laugh escapes the bronzerider, eyes sparkling with the amusing memory. "They are pretty common out here, so if you aren't careful you'll end up with a fair of your own." A long drink of his cooling cup is drawn out, the youngest of the three falling silent as he listens to the input his best friend has to offer. "Welcome to Southern then. I'm afraid I'm horrid at keeping up with all the new faces that keep on popping up like flowers around here, but hopefully you'll find your stay here pleasant." The mention of Fall nets a faint darkening of the youth's gaze, though he keeps that part of his psyche carefully isolated from the pleasant conversation the three are having and tries to savor the peaceful, clear night and brilliant stars under the darkened moons.

During one of the glances down at the other pair, Kultir notes the head to toe scan he receives and nods slightly in acknowledgement. "I'm Kultir. I do some tracking and hunting around the Weyr… odd jobs if the Headman needs it. Might see me around the Infirmary if the Healers are needing some herbs or other such that I might find out on my treks." After that rather extensive speech, the quiet young man turns his gaze back toward the stars. He sighs softly in enjoyment, savoring the lack of rain that has plagued them for the past however long… seems like forever for the man who prefers being outside of stone walls.

The young healer can't help but snerk at something mentioned by Kultir. "Know how to find Numbweed? I got a feeling that Master Aemon is going to restock soon…" Nevik grumbles sarcastically with a faintly humorous tone to his voice. He can't do much more than laugh at his luck since his arrived. So far the count is three small pots, two large jars and, just recently, one of the larger jars used in the dragon infirmary. Anyone who's been around the Nighthearth or heard any of the mutterings around the Weyr probably has heard of his tendency to spill, drop, stumble or fall over things. He's also the very same apprentice to have numbed his own tongue. Yup, a real winner this one. "I'll just be happy with him, I think." Looking up to the stars again he catches sight of one of the smaller ones off to the east. "…and I think I just found his name; Akron." The small star, as he remembers though perhaps not too accurately, was named in the 'old tongue' meaning 'Courageous'. "…At least I think that one is called Akron."

When the tracker joins the conversation it makes S'yn crane his neck and lean back to glance upside down at Kultir, one hand behind him for balance as his fire-lizards mantle their wings for balance, digging their talons into his jacket. "I swear you can find anything, Kul." Sitting back up he turns his gaze in the direction the Healer is looking, trying to recall his own lessons on such things. "I'm pretty content with the two I have," he agrees, still scanning that horizon to pick out the stars he can recognize from his mentor's teaching, his father's lessons a distant and hazy thing. Judging by the stars he realizes the hour is getting later than he should linger and he drains his mug before giving Nevik's knee a light pat with his free hand. "It was nice chatting with you, but I'm afraid duty calls. Or will far too early in the morning." A rueful chuckle issues from his young throat even as he gets his feet under him and unfurls to his lanky extension, offering the Healer a jaunty salute. "Hope to see you 'round, Nevik." He moves back toward the stairs then, giving Kultir a friendly pat and squeeze on the shoulder in a gesture of brotherly solidarity before he slinks down the staircase, the dark garments soon rendering him naught but a shadow in the gloom.

Kultir grins down at the young rider and shrugs. "See you later, Sy. Rest well." He lifts a hand to pat the rider's shoulder as the youth leaves before turning back to the young Healer Apprentice. "Yeah, numbweed is easy to find. Grows all over out there … just a pain to harvest since they want so much. I let them deal with that. I get the small stuff, the hard to find stuff that might grow out there in the jungle." A soft sigh rolls from the tracker's lips as he drops his foot down and moves over to where his brother had been settled to drop down into an easy, cross-legged position so he can lean against the short parapet around the ledge.

Oh thank the mother…Nevik was having to twist and turn to be able to crane his neck up to continue to watch Kultir from where he was seated. Now that the…Tracker has taken a lower seat it's much easier to see him. "Found anything interesting out there in the wilds?" he asks to strike up a bit of a conversation. "I got to treat…uh…" he glances down and to the left as though he were searching the ground for a scrap of hide with a patient's name on it — to no fail. "…I can't remember his name but he reported in with some scratches. Said he tangled with 'something' out there. Not too deep but didn't recognize the wound marks at all."

"Oh yeah, lots of interesting things out there." Kultir takes a long swallow of his cooling klah and sets the mug down beside him and laces his fingers over his stomach as he leans backwards against that short wall. At the mention of scratches, his brows crease in thought as he glances at the youngster and gnaws at his lower lip. "Scratches, huh? Well, might not have been an animal … there's some nasty vines out there with thorns the length of my hand that'll scratch you up pretty good. Of course, if he didn't know what he was doing … he could have tangled with just about anything."

"Thorns," the word seems to have triggered an image of the scratches upon the patient's forearm and the two seem to merge in his mind. "…that would make a lot more sense than what I was seeing in my head." Nevik grins and the bronze stretches out its forelimbs across his stomach to get more comfortable. The six, tiny claws stretch and flex until they find purchase in his leather jerkin and somehow find their way through to his skin. "Hey!" he exclaims more out of shock than of pain, "…watch it." he paps at the claws to force them to relax their hold.

Kultir chuckles softly and nods. "If he's new and he wasn't supposed to be out in the jungle in the first place … I can see him wanting to make it more exciting than it actually was." The tracker drains his klah and sighs as he draws his long legs up to wrap his arms around his knees. He grins as the little firelizard manages to dig his claws into the youth's skin, amber eyes sparkling as he remembers how the little green he has contact with used to do the same. "There's enough out there that can really cause damage … the guards and such have a reason for the rules they put in place for safety in the jungle. Never know when a feline's gonna decide the Weyr looks like a quick lunch stop."

Nevik nods and decides that it's time to push himself up to his feet. This is no easy matter while trying to balance a sleeping baby dragon in your arm. It takes him a bit of wobbling, one of which sends him slamming his back against the rock he was using as a rest — thankfully, for otherwise he would have probably fallen backwards, tumbled and slipped off the edge. Pushing himself to try it again he pulls one leg under him so that he can stand 'up' rather than try and lurch forward to a kneeling position and that does the trick. With a sigh of relief and a personal denial that he is not looking over his shoulder at where he might have fallen, he turns to face the Tracker to thank him for the conversation. "I should be heading back to the Apprentice Dorms too. Morning rounds start before the sun it would seem," he offers his one free hand to the man in greeting, "It was nice meeting you…Tracker." He still can't help but use people's formal titles it would seem.

Kultir glances upward and nods slightly as he takes that offered hand to shake firmly. "Just Kultir. No title necessary since I don't have one. Have a good night. Was nice talking to you." He grins at the youth as he drops his hand once more to curl around his knees, apparently not going anywhere for a while at least.

Nevik nods and starts down the long, long, long flight of stairs with his bronze fire lizard now creening for food…again.