Who

M'noq, Rielle

What

Wingleaders and friends find a moment to touch base in the living caverns.

When

It is evening of the nineteenth day of the twelfth month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Living Caverns, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 14 Jan 2018 07:00

 

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"Can I be visiting a friend?"


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Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophoba. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


It is a warm summer evening, still light outside but after the evening meal. Most of the crowds have cleared from the living caverns, so it seems as good a time as any for M'noq to settle in a corner table, writing in one of his small notebooks, his brow furrowed in serious concentration. A mostly full mug of klah is in front of him, though it has been sitting there so long untouched that it is has grown cold. But hey, that might make it easier to drink given the lingering heat outside.

"…doesn't help, you'll just have to brace up and go to the infirmary, Y'frey. Don't make me order you!" Rielle's voice drifts in as the brownrider enters from the inner caverns, a rather red-faced blue rider following in her wake. He doesn't look angry though, just…angrily red. He mumbles something with a salute to his wingleader and quickly slips out the door to the Bowl. Rielle sighs gustily and shakes her head, moving to the sideboard to pour herself some iced tea and grab a snack of fruit and cheese. She glances up to spy M'noq as she works, moving in his direction once she has what she wants. She clears her throat first so as not to make him jump in the middle of such obvious concentration before asking, "Mind if I sit?"

M'noq was aware enough of his surroundings to catch Rielle's voice when she ordered her rider to the infirmary, but he was trying not to eavesdrop, because, you know, not his wing. He was working on getting his thought down when she approached his table. "Rielle. Not at all," he says with a faint smile, gesturing to an open seat. He puts a sheet of blotter paper in his book and closes it, setting it aside. "So, are you visiting for work or non-work related reasons?" he asks, before taking a sip of his cold klah.

"Can I be visiting a friend?" Rielle counters with a gently tilted smile. "That could potentially cover both. Hard not to talk about work even when you don't mean to." She leans forward to fold her arms on the table, the upper hand dealing with her tea and food when she wants it. "Really…I just wanted to check in, see how you were doing." The Weyr has been dealing with a lot lately, and no small amount of it has fallen on M'noq, she knows.

"Still alive, still breathing," M'noq says. "Every day, I am reminded that is no small thing. The wing is pulling together after N'lim's passing. All the stories about him started out about what a pain the ass he was, but they've become more stories about how hard he worked keeping everyone safe." M'noq would certainly prefer speaking kindly of the dead. "How about you? Sounds like you're dealing with necessary issues." He waves a hand indicating the bluerider who got sent off to the infirmary.

Rielle nods, her expression somber as M'noq brings up the matter of his departed wingsecond. "It's good everyone was able to circle back around to the good things about him. It's too easy to cling to the bad." Indeed, it seems like human nature to dwell on the negative sometimes, impactful as it is. Having her question turned back upon her earns a chagrined snort. "Aye. This insect issue… Sure, it makes for a food solution in some ways, but there are a few…bad reactions people have come to me with. When they take issue with visiting the infirmary. I do what I can when I can, but I don't have all the answers." Or resources. She studies the other brownrider for a long moment, sipping and nibbling. "You're all mended from the tree incident, aye?"

M'noq makes a face when the bugs are mentioned. Seriously, are people that desperate for protein? "True enough, the bugs aren't making many people happy. Truthfully, I've been leaning towards going vegetarian. The last thing I want to find in my soup is a wing." Which maybe explains why he has just a mug of klah in front of him today. "It certainly encourages hunting expeditions." He arches a brow as she presses the issue of his heath. "Ah, mostly, yes. Are you asking for some reason?" He still hasn't managed to lead Lynx through an entire Threadfall, which he used to do regularly.

"Aye, that does seem more and more the way to go," Rielle agrees ruefully. "Though Faranth help us if we get a blight next." Is knocking on wood a thing on Pern? Perhaps there's some equivalent. To M'noq's last, the brownrider quickly shakes her head. "Not really, just…noticing the obvious and wondering the prognosis. Can't shake the Healer out of me, no matter how hard I try," she says with a wink, smirking gently at the Lynx wingleader. "I'm not about to harp on you about it, don't worry. I'm sure you have plenty of people doing that to you already."

M'noq just smiles, having to see some humor in the food supply issues, because otherwise there's too much worry. "The next time I get a bit of meat from a hunting trip, I'll invite you over to our weyr for dinner." The majority of the food that's caught goes to the Weyr, of course, but some small piece usually goes to the hunter. He presses a hand to his left side, looking guilty. "The pain is mostly gone, honestly. It's just sometimes I can't manage to get enough breath. The healers have suggested walking more. Climbing stairs."

Rielle nods, glad to hear M'noq isn't hurting so much anymore, at least. "Things like that take time," she says of his breathing issues. "A frustrating amount of time. But better that than trying to rush things and making it worse." As is the way with most things. The brownrider downs the last of her tea, eying the empty glass and deciding that more is in order on her way out. "I need to go pick up my daughter, I'm hearing," she says as her eyes betray the message conveyed along the draconic grapevine. "Anyway, I'm glad I got to sit with you a bit, M'noq. Clear skies." She gives his shoulder a squeeze as she rises, making her detour for a bit more tea before heading out to Obhaeroth. Apparently, wherever her daughter is at the moment requires wings to reach!

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