Willimina, Tallel, Lillia, Timotin, Brenna,Echo, Milosh, Igraine, A'lira, evka, Daenerys, Malosim, Edlsesa, Tziporah, Javid, Aztrexia, Ollene, Varli, Zisiene, Ryott, Ziniel,


BACKSCENED: The Zingari Hold A Rodeo in Telgar!

Mild Swearing, Flirting, Some Adult Content


-- On Pern --
It is 5:35 PM where you are.
It is sunset of the tenth day of the fifth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the fortieth day of Spring and 91 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.
In Southern:
It is the fortieth day of Autumn and 50 degrees. Overcast with only a little rainfall, Rukbat's light is brighter as the storm clouds drift further west, leaving only intermittent cloud cover.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the fortieth day of Autumn and 19 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


The Telgar Steppe; Zingari Encampment; Temporary Rodeo Grounds

OOC Date 02 Mar 2018 07:00


willimina_default.jpg tallel_default.jpg lillia_default.jpg timotin_default.jpg brenna_default.jpg echo_default.jpg milosh_default.jpg igraine_default.jpg a-lira_default.jpg reveka_default.jpg daenerys_default.jpg malosim_default.jpg edlsesa_default.jpg tziporah_default.jpg javid_default.jpg aztrexia_default.jpg ollene_default.jpg varli_default.jpg zisiene_default.jpg ryott_default.jpg ziniel_default.jpg

"Killin' two birds with one stone."


The Telgar Steppe

The savannah home of desert runners and hardy herder-folk, Telgar's steppe-lands along the northern bend of the Western Road are dry and wind-swept. No trees grow here, save around the scant rivers and lakes that dot and thread the terrain. Summers here are quite hot, and the winters are deep, with many a morning finding the low shrubs and grasses gilded in thick, silvery frost. The flatness here might drive a mountain-dweller insane, were it not for the rolling hills that break the monotony of the view every now and again. Navigation must be done relying on sun, stars, sense, and scant landmark alone, for there are no mountains or valleys to take a bearing by for leagues.

It is the fortieth day of Spring and 91 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.

It's not at all unordinary for the Zingari to throw gathers quite frequently, but the gather they throw now, only happens when the Haeyleri Zingari and the Kheeriin Zingari get together on the Steppes! It's time for another Wild Zingari Rodeo and the Zingari have been setting up for two sevens for this shindig. There's vendor stalls, dancing, competition, betting, drinking and more! The Steppes are a hive of activity around the temporarily built rodeo grounds, the smell of animals and spicy curry lingers in the air and three days of activity are planned for entertainment!

Willimina is here, and irritated at how useless she is. But at eight months pregnant, she can't exactly be doing things, particularly when she's literally the size of a shipfish. (Or Beach Ball, in RL terms). She's not even supposed to be out of bed, but laying there doing nothing is driving her mad. So, an over-padded chair has been set up for Willimina in the leader's box of the arena and she's basically waited on hand and foot as she watches the first of the runner races get underway. Playing nearby on the floor of the leader's box, Taimin and Taliana couldn't give a wit about what's going on outside, they both have their carved dragons and are 'fighting thread' mercilessly.

Lillia is nervous. She's been training ever since she discussed with her mother that performance was what she would rather do with her life. It had been a hard conversation, and she knows her decision to pass her birth right on to her brother was the right one, even if her mother made her promise not to give it up until she comes of age, as Taimin isn't old enough to have learned yet. She'd agreed readily and her runner sport training had begun. And now, here she is near ready to compete in both trick riding, and the cross country racing. She's got a big day ahead of her, and a bigger one tomorrow, and then the day after will be spent purchasing the runners she needs to train for her routines. Luckily, Lillia is a mark-pincher and has been saving every mark she's received since she was old enough to get them. She can't wait.

Well, well, well, for once, Timotin is out in the crowds instead of hiding in his wagon or running his weaver's booth. The Zingari man rambles around, a bottle of Zingari Red in one hand and his guitar in the other. Now, it's simply a matter of finding a place to set up and play. Some Reika woman has got it into his head that maybe he should perform a bit more often instead of keeping all his music to himself. It's good advice and he intends to follow it, if he can find a place where he'll be heard over the yelling of the vendors, the screaming of the betters and the crowd in general. Yeah. Right.

There's a shadow slinking along the outer lines of the crowd. Milosh is on duty tonight, his job to patrol the borders of the camp and rodeo and to report anything suspicious. He's also been made a bouncer of sorts, tasked with kicking out those who would start trouble. It's busy already and Milosh is glad he's not the only Adept on duty tonight along with the guards. He searches the crowd, as always, for a glimpse of Echo.

Nope. Milosh is definitely not the only Adept on duty tonight. While the long haired, mercurial spy patrols the ground, Aztrexia is up on the roofs of the wagons, and the 'walls' of the Arena, keeping an eye on things from above. It's nice up here, and somewhere, Javid is on duty too, she thinks. He may be off tonight, but if she knows her husband well enough, she knows he won't leave a big event like this to go play, he'll be on the lookout for trouble. And funny enough, Trexa, his wife, is probably the reason Javid is so gung-ho about guard duties at these things. My my how time does fly and change things.

Igraine is here, as always, minding the healer's tent. With Tallel very understandably wrapped up in his wife's twin pregnancy (there's no doubt in the healer's minds now), most of the main healing duties are now falling on Igraine, not that she minds at all. After living the life of a spy and always being busy, retirement is dull and slow, and boring, and Igraine needs something to do when she isn't wrapped up in her husband/weyrmate and hiding in their warren of a weyr. Just now, she's waving Reveka off. The girl had been dizzy and overly hot and Igraine had scolded her for letting herself get so worn out and had made her rest. Now, as the girl walks off, Igraine worries over her.

Well, well, well! There's another hermit in the crowd! Ollene, Armida Zingari second in command and cook. No wonder he's a hermit, that's quite the workload! Tonight however, he's off, ready to have fun, and on the prowl! Ale in hand, the man wanders around admiring all the males in chaps and congratulating the women that get to see what's under all those cowpoke clothes. Ollene knows he wouldn't mind seeing it all. Running a hand through his long, shiny hair, he moves through the crowds. Hey! There's a bar! Ollene knows where he's going!

Leaving the Healing Yurt with a bit of a headache, Reveka goes in search of food, having been reminded by Igraine that she can't be skipping meals anymore, the baby has to eat too and if she doesn't eat, neither does it. She reaches the vendor selling curry and manages to snag a bowl from the back without anyone being the wiser. She's allowed, but customers might balk at seeing someone just scarper off with food. She finds a table and sits down to eat as the throbbing really sets in.

It's been a good few days for Edlsesa, saving the bout of rot gut caused by the candidates AWFUL cooking skills. She's so glad her group had gone to the Inn for lunch, otherwise she might have missed this! She moves through the crowds, waving at both A'lira and her Aunty Ayla, who was playing taxi for some of the candidates. "See you guys later!" She moves through the crowd and is happy to finally be doing something fun. She doesn't mind the candidate life, but it doesn't leave much room for relaxing.

Among the gaggle of Candidates given permission to attend the rodeo under the suspicious eyes of older riders unlikely to be hoodwinked by mischievous candidates, Daenerys wanders the Caravan, feeling a bit lost among them, though they are home to him. Hes missed the color and the festival atmosphere, and the people — though there are worries he's never managed to shake. But somehow, he keeps them well under wraps, simply enjoying the freedom to escape, for once, the eyes of the Weyr upon him. Alira, being a rather kind soul, simply waves him off without any of the lectures other riders are giving the younger and more foolhardy of the group, well aware that Daenerys, as a Trader, is unlikely to be taken by their tricks.

Alira, naturally, rids himself of his passengers as fast as he politely can, even managing a little grin for Edlsesa — thank Faranth he got the sensible group; candidates who know better than to get involved in games of chance. Though, as he's on duty as a chaperone for the Candidates — that knot of his apparently comes with way, way more responsibility than even he reckoned with — he can't fully relax and enjoy the rodeo, hell do his chaperoning in the general vicinity of the Healers Tent, where he might perchance spend a small amount of time with Igraine in between their duties.

Tziporahs one excited girl, out for her first full on Zingari gathering! She soon loses her parents, racing off with a group of girls her own age to go and see what they can see and possibly get into , giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Their first stop? The clothes, of course! What else are teenage girls, given some small amount of marks, to do with their free time?
It's been a long while since Zisiene has been able to wander through a gather. She'll be setting up her fans for later, but for now she's just going to enjoy things. The runners that are on display are given a very jaundiced eye before Isie's moving right on by. Her own midnight brown Kar is out with the rest of the runners brought in by the mother clan. She's not even so much as looked at him in far longer than she cares to admit, and she'll continue to leave him to the care of those that appreciate runners. The woman passes by where Willa's seated, and gives the woman a light bow of respect. Eventually there's going to have to be a conversation had, but that time's not now.

Varli smiles as she sits just outside her yurt. Her pastes, and brushes are laid out on a table, and there's a chair that has seen good use so far. At some point she's going to have to find time to go speak with one of the healers, but right now she's in the middle of an intricate design, "It will take a seven for the design to come to full color, and the design will last another seven or two after that," said as a light wash of sweetner, and citrus juice is painted over the henna then wrapped lightly with a cloth, "Let it dry completely, and the paste will flake off on its own."

Sure, Malosim has been out to a few Pit fights to bet lately, but he does love a good runner race! Even better, something like what he'd heard the Zingari are putting on tonight. He snags a ride with A'lira, grinning with exhilaration over the chance to ride a dragon again and thanking the brownrider but finding himself looking for Xanthee when he notices another Candidate has come out. He sighs wistfully when he doesn't see her, though he knows it's for the best. If he did find her, he isn't sure how long he'd make it without doing something foolish. At least he's aware of the risk. Who he does see is Reveka, and he makes his way over to the girl's table. "Hey, Reveka," he greets with a warm grin. "Mind if I join you?"


Standing over by the event sign up tables, Echo is dressed in her full herder girl gear. Sturdy boots, with heavy chaps covering her usual leather pants, her new belt with buckle newly polished around her waist. A tight fitting tunic on top, a dark navy blue, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, with a leather vest over top. On her head, a wide brimmed hat in the classic herder style as she talks to the person at the table. "Yes, both the barrel racing and the bronco busting." Her wide smile is bright as she nods affirmatively. Once done, the auburn haired girl moves off with her number in hand that she needs to pin onto her vest. Her warm brown eyes scan the area but Milosh was working tonight so she doesn't expect to see him…get it? Cause he's a spy.

Javid is indeed on his own prowl tonight, having conferred with the Kheeriin guard and adepts as well as the caravan leaders about the scope of this event. The Kheeriin have been handling their own events adroitly, of course, but with this being a joint affair, some augmenting is necessary. The spymaster is high and low, constantly vigilant…though he does slip up to the rooftops to sneak up and steal a kiss from his wife before slipping away again. He may not be out of the honeymooning stage yet, but it won't keep him from doing his job.

A'lira eventually finds the tent he's looking for after shedding a young Candidate or two with calm assurances that they will be just fine as long as they keep their wits about them, and stick with older, wiser ones. Once he's in there, he'll hopefully find Igraine among the other healers, hoping to catch up with her. Bored though she may be, perhaps having her husband about will help alleviate the boredom.

After another circuit or two 'round the grounds, Daenerys comes up on his very own yurt, somehow surprised that it'd been moved along with everyone else's — and then remembers he's allowed one of the other leatherworkers to use it as his own, provided it escapes any major damage — and he got a decent cut of the marks for his renting the place out. He peeks in, smiling at all the memories it evokes, before he spots a familiar face or two in the crush of people — and is drawn like a moth to the flame. Malosim — and an entire Trader Caravan, not to mention the many Igen riders, are enough eyes on him to be certain he's not up to any… shenanigans, right? Right! And so he sidles over to Malosim and Reveka, hoping the sight of him doesn't send the girl flying off or anything. "Hey. Don't you be trying to charm my girl, Malosim…"

Tallel is by Willimina's side of course, keeping watch on their children and tending to his wife. He's been torn between knowing that she hates feeling useless and wanting her to stay put. He'd hesitated immensely over her even coming out here, but she wouldn't be swayed. Now that they know it's twins…the normally collected caravan second might be just a little frazzled around the edges trying to make certain Willa doesn't stubborn herself into some sort of difficulty! There's enough difficulty as it is, after all.

Ryott is dressed in a rather casual black tunic, at least one size too large for the young girl's frame, long sleeves falling over her hands, overtop of a pair of black leather pants on top of clunky black ankle boots. Fingerless gloves are visible every now and then as she wanders seemingly aimlessly around gather, her face as always a perfect mask of teenage disinterest, punctuated every now and then with a heavy sigh of boredom. But a sharper eye might see that her near ebony gaze is as sharp as ever, taking in every little detail of those milling about, sticking on a loose circuit that allows her to watch the food preparation area quite closely. Even now as she takes a seat at one of the long tables, propping her feet up on an adjacent seat, in that obnoxious way of teens everywhere, and pulls out a small pocket knife that she uses to pick at her nails, outwardly oblivious except for that raptor-like scanning she's doing as covertly as she can manage. She's just part of the background people, nothing to see here.

Said Reika woman is following in Timotin's wake, smiling secretively to herself. Brenna is well-pleased to see her lover taking her thoughts to heart; she does so enjoy hearing him share his music. She settles nearby when he parks himself, though detours for a drink of her own along the way before sitting near him to listen.

Willimina gives a curt bow of the head to Zisiene, yes, a conversation would be had, and yes, this is not the place to have it. So, the leader goes back to snacking on fruit and watching for the first cross country race to begin, as Lillia would be competing in it, and she wants to show her support. She smiles at her nerve wracked husband and pats his hand. "Relax love, it's not like I'm wandering around and watching you dance tonight." She chuckles, remembering very clearly that particular labor. And she does feel useless, and so, at least being able to move around helps. "Do you see Lillia?" She asks as she notices the first of the racers reaching the arena.

Lillia is here, her nerves haven't got the best of her yet and so she is walking her runner up to the starting line. Nefrit is antsy, ready to race and tossing his head in excitement. Lillia takes a breath and hauls herself into the saddle, trying to reach that quiet place in her head that she needs when she's performing.

Timotin finally finds a place to land, far enough from the dance floor not to disturb the music there, but close enough to the crowd to entertain. He sits in a chair and tunes his guitar, setting the whiskey aside for now. The plucking of the guitar strings draws a bit of attention and people begin watching to see if there's to be live music here, as well as at the dance floor.

Milosh does spot Echo at one point, and moves to at least say hi to her, but then he loses her in the crowd of herder hats. Damn. He'll have to try again later. For now, he moves back into the shadows and does his job.

The kiss from Javid is a pleasant surprise and Aztrexia laughs and moves on as he moves away, her blood singing at the contact, but she has a job to do! So, hopping to another roof, she moves on and keeps her sharp gaze on the crowd. Good thing too because she happens to catch a pickpocket trying to lighten a Telgar Lord's heir's pockets. That's taken care of soon enough and after she's back on the roof tops.

Igraine brightens considerably when A'lira shows up. She's another one that may or may not be out of the honeymoon phase. She's glad of his company because so far, the night has been slow. Then again, this thing just got started, so Igraine still doesn't know what she's in for exactly. "Love! I wasn't sure you were going to make it back out!"

Ollene is drinking, and flirting, he's happy. Though, his eyes keep tracking the guards and spies about, as Caravan Second, it's part of his job, not to mention, it helps the Haeyleri Spymaster and the Armida Guard captain. However, that being done, it doesn't stop him from partying hardy.

Reveka is surprised when she's approached by Malosim, and greets him with a wide smile. "Mal! Nice to see you. Is Xan here?" Reveka looks around hopefully, though she has a feeling her friend will be avoiding any place her sexy beau might be, hoping to not repeat her mistakes from her last candidacy. "I suppose not, huh? Join away, no one else is sitting here." And then he's here, her lover, the man she loves, the father of her child, and Reveka is stunned, her spoon falling back into her curry with an audible clink. "Daen!" She gasps and blushes, a look of affection, confusion, and unease crossing her face. She's more than happy to see Daenerys…but things are still hard, and hard to face.

Edlsesa is happy to wander, shopping on her own as everyone else spreads out. Eventually, she comes across the arena and spots Lillia on the starting line for a race. Well, this should be interesting. Climbing up on the rails of the Arena to see better, Edlsesa cheers and whistles for Lillia and her race.

"Killin' two birds with one stone." A'lira hooks an arm around Igraine's slim waist and kisses the top of her head. "Weyr figured the candidates deserved some time out, and picked a bunch of us, mostly with those shiny new knots, to chaperone 'em." He waggles his brows suggestively at her. "Which means I get more time with you."


A lull in people wanting Varli's skill sees the artist going in search of food. She stops to watch the races halfway to the curry, but she's hungry so Varli continues to gather up her meal. She just ate not too long ago. Why then is she starving now? Varli pushes the thought out of her head for the moment to find a place to sit and watch the races.

Zini's eyes scan the crowd out of habit. There are still conversations she needs to have, but for now she's going to make her way back to Ziniel's wagon where she's stowed her fans. It's time to start prepping for her performance later. The fans need cleaned, polished, and the oil reservoirs filled. This is all things that take time. Isie nods to those she knows, then slips into the wagon she's temporarily calling home.

Echo listens to the announcement and goes to find herself somewhere to watch the races from, but not before she goes and gets herself a glass of the Red, she still holds a fondness for the original over the new varieties popping up. So with drink in hand, she makes her way to the seating down next to the chutes and settles herself in to watch the race, sipping at her drink absently, she slips her hat off and sets it in her lap so as not to impede the view of anyone behind her. One hand going through her auburn hair, that is now long enough to gently brush her shoulders.

"No," Malosim answers somewhat mournfully at Reveka's question, "but that's okay. Might be hard to behave if I did see her. Can't imagine it would be much easier if you were to see-" And then the thought finishes itself in the flesh. Mal finds himself blinking up at Daenerys, dark brows furling subtly. "Uh…hey, Daen." Well, apparently he's going to witness firsthand what might happen if Xanthee were around, just vicariously. Awkward…

Ah, yes, there it is — the nervousness, the worry: Daenerys settles next to Reveka, and takes her hand gently. "Reve." His voice is low, and soothing. He gazes at her for a long moment — he's missed her! — before leaning in and asking after her. "How you been? Doing okay?" His gaze is hopeful; hopeful that she doesn't try to lie about anything. His grin at Malosim is sideways. Awkward it might be, but only if everyone makes it awkward. Since they've decided he must finish this Candidacy, no matter their misgivings, he's going to do that. None of this will be easy; he's just going to have to keep stern control over what he might want to have happen.

Tallel just chuckles a bit, shaking his head. "I know, saikhan," he answers, "it's just…looking forward that's worrying me." The journey back home and all. He lifts his head to search for his stepdaughter, tawny eyes sweeping the rustic arena before spotting her in the distance. "Up at the starting line, my love," he says, leaning closer to Willa to give his answer.

It isn't quite so simple for Mal, finding himself facing some unexpected emotions at witnessing Daenerys and Reveka's little reunion. "I, uh…" Fingers shove through tousled brown locks as he tries to decide how best to handle this. "I'm gonna go grab a drink. You can take my seat," he tells Daenerys as he rises, giving Reveka a quick smile before moving toward the drinks…or toward the betting stall…shells. He pauses not more than a few strides away, suddenly fuzzy-brained and uncertain of what exactly he wants to do next. He wants to clear his head, that's what.

Ryott is still picking at her nails, but now her attention is on the brown haired Miner who is leaving the eating area. Love triangle maybe? And isn't that the dancer girl that got knocked up? Interesting. Of course nothing shows on her face's frozen expression. Now her dark gaze wanders over where the zingari cooks are preparing the food, dishes that makes one's mouth water just looking at it. When her own stomach gives an unhappy rumble, the girl will head over to acquire her own bowl of flavourful zingari curry and a few fluffy flatbreads to dip into the piping hot sauce. She returns to a different chair now, at a table next to where Reveka and Daen are seated, several seats down though, as she digs in thoughtfully to her meal, her gaze still covertly wandering the crowds.

Varli finishes her curry before making her way back to her yurt. There's no one waiting for temporary designs, so she takes the time to gather her depleted henna, and brushes. Time to go mix more paste, and clean her brushes.

Willimina pats Tallel’s hand and smiles. “I love how attentive you are my husband, but we’ll take things as they come, eh? We’ve three surviving children thus far, I think I can handle birthing two more.” Willimina is quite blase about the situation as it seems. This pregnancy, beyond the roughness of twins, has been her easiest yet. She leans back in her chair and snacks lightly, eyes looking over her children before she spots Lillia at the starting line. “Mm. They’re about to start then!” Willa sits near the edge of her seat, excited to watch her daughter compete, despite it replacing other things.

Lillia barely has time to breathe before the announcers are booming their news around camp. A moment longer and the whistle for the race to begin sounds and Nefrit launches into action beneath her. Looking around as they begin to gain on the runners in front, Lillia notices she’s quite a bit smaller than the other jockeys, being only just barely in her teens. It gives her a boost of confidence because she’s not weighing her runner down. It shows as first she passes the fourth place runner, and then the third.

The tune Timotin plucks upon his guitar is spicy, near an Earthian Salsa, but not quite. His fingers move over the strings as if the instrument is a second home to them, and in ways, it is. There’s a few that stop to listen, and a few more who stop to dance, throwing marks at Timo’s feet for the performance. But there’s only one person he wishes to spot in the crowd tonight and he finds Brenna sitting nearby, and sends her a roguish smile.

Milosh finally spots Echo again when he tours through the arena, and can’t resist sneaking up on her just once. Not to scare, but to surprise. He takes the seat directly behind Echo and sits for a good moment or two before leaning in behind her, his voice affecting a low, western drawl. “My, my they sure do make them puurrty out here on th’ steppes.”

As the Races start, Trexa doubles the speed of her rounds. It’s usually when people are distracted that the most thieving happens. So far so good, but that could change in an instant.

Igraine chuckles and nods. “Well, I am glad to see you nonetheless husband, even if you do have to babysit.” Just as he explains it means more time with her. The fact that they both say near the same thing has her chuckling. “Shall we get some curry? I believe things are slow enough here that I can step away to eat.”

Olly sidles up to a guard he knows, and knows a little more than just well, and buys him a drink, settling into conversation with the man for the night. Here he is, and here he’ll stay, as long as his friend is amenable.

Reveka does seem nervous, yes, even at odds with Daen sitting with her and grabbing her hand. Awkward as it may be, it’s not a situation she can readily avoid or anything, and her heart does sing at the sight of her catlike lover. “I… I honestly don’t know, some days are better than most, but for the most part, I feel sick, of heart and body, and confused, still.” She isn’t going to lie or sugar coat things, because that just makes things even MORE confusing and hurtful. She pushes her food away and almost tugs her hand out Daen’s, but then thinks better of it, the small contact is better than none at all.

Oh, Daenerys has had a little chat with A’lira, about maintaining a cool head even when what he'd like to do is everything but follow the somewhat humiliating rules: the older candidates simply must show restraint, else the younger, less wise ones follow suit; they have to get used to self sacrifice now, before adding a dragon to the mix. And so, Daen will release his lover's hand with extreme reluctance, and offer her a crooked little smile for her honesty. “You and me both, darling. I know this is the right thing to do, because I did obligate myself to finishing this candidacy; I'm still torn. You need my support.” Hopefully, the fact that he is here, openly, will further establish his willingness to continue a relationship with his lover. “A’lira has said he's willing to provide chaperoned visits with you when we have free time.” It's a small thing, really; but a tiny sliver of hope, perhaps. Anything to allow them both a small comfort and perhaps ease Reveka’s stress even a little. “If you're willing…” That last holds a hopeful note.

“Fortunately, my group is among the more sensible of them, and don't require as much oversight.” Crafters, mostly, and long used to rules and regulations and enough maturity to deal well with a little bit of freedom without losing their heads. As always, A’lira is all too happy to claim a meal among the Zingari; in return, he often offers his healer’s skills where their own cannot help. Fortunately it's a rare need, but still, they're family now, and family works together for the greater good.

Now apparently out of the picture in full from the table he just left, Malosim takes another deep breath and makes his way back toward the food and drink, searching hopefully for bubbly pies and cold cider, if they’re to be found. He gets lucky, fortunately. Once acquired, he finds a spot to sit at the edge of everything, quietly sorting himself through for a short while…and remembering the last time he’d had these things. The memory has a bittersweet edge right now, but he chooses to focus on the “sweet” aspect. Eventually he’ll make his way out to watch the rodeo, now that it’s kicked off in earnest. He’ll watch and bet and wander some more, eventually making his way back to A’lira for a lift home whenever the brownrider is ready to leave.

Tallel sits forward too as the race gets underway, starting to holler increasingly incoherent encouragements as Lillia starts to edge toward the front.

Brenna is far more interested in Timotin’s music than in the rodeo itself, honestly. That’s not to say she won’t watch at some point, but she’s rather enthralled for now. At one point, following a return of that roguish smile that warms her through so very well, she gets up to find another drink, taking a second for the guitar-playing weaver in case he should want it during a break. When she returns and finds him playing that lively, sultry tune, she can’t help but grin, swaying in place to the tempo for a bit before leaning down to speak at his ear. “If only there were some way to dance with you to your own music,” she whispers, and slips away to sit nearby to his left, his drink left close at hand as she sips her own.

Tziporah will cling to the railing, hoping for Lillia to win — and stay on her runner's back whilst she's at it! There's even a lot of cheering going on, for she knows the girl well enough to wish her well. Who doesn't want the home team to get the victory?

As it turns out, Lillia takes second place in her race, garnering cheers and praise from her parents, Reveka has a short talk with Daen that is soon interrupted by the hormone induced gastric pyrotechnics of pregnancy, Edlsesa does some shopping, MIlosh flirts with Echo a bit more before going back to work, Ollene scores, Igraine and A’lira sneak away for a bit while the Candidates play, and eventually, everyone is ready for a good night’s sleep, after all, there’s three more days of this ahead.

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