Who

Daenerys, Miel

What

With Ivaenth being stubborn and Miel at the end of her patience, Daenerys happens by just in time for a brief (and more casual) chat…

When

It is sunset of the twenty-second day of the sixth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lake Shore, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 16 Mar 2018 04:00

 

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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


Surprise, surprise! It’s summer in Igen and that means the days are nigh unbearable when it comes to heat and sun. Miel has to spend much of that time beneath protective layers of breathable fabric or risk burning. Now that the sun has set? The greenrider is free to go without headdress, though she keeps her hair braided up. Standing near the water’s edge, she is mid-argument with a rather stubborn Ivaenth. “Damn it, get over here! You know I hate washing you in the deeper waters!” Alas, her pleas fall of deaf ears and the naturally bright green just drifts further and further out.

Heat is relative; as far as Daenerys is concerned, it's still too hot. He's going to have to take this walk nice and slow - until the foolery at the Lake has him stopping to stare in astonishment. Poor, poor Miel, to have a dragon who thinks it's funny to torment her like that. There's a war between amusement and sympathy in his gaze as he drifts toward the greenrider, but he manages to wipe the external cues off his face before he is near enough to salute her properly. "She will have her jokes, will she, Rider?" Is his tone sufficiently sympathetic? He hopes so!

Would it look bad if Miel hurled a sponge in Ivaenth’s general direction? Because the greenrider looks TEMPTED, but resists and merely squeezes the life out of it instead. Daenerys’ arrival has her promptly switching tracks in mood however and she’ll flash him an exasperated grin and chuckle to go with it. “She has her moments!” Understatement! “Not so much a joke. Just a moment of not seeing eye to eye. It’ll pass.” As it always does! “And it’s Miel… Candidate, is it? Didn’t we cross paths before?”

Daenerys would see nothing, absolutely nothing. Hasn't he had his moments with his own small contrary marys? His little coterie of green firelizards are just MADE to annoy, with their antics and their refusals to do as they're told. In fact, they're happily drifting along the wind currents out to Ivaenth, trilling happily. Whatchu doin', big green! "Mmm. Meanwhile, you grin and bear it. And yes, we have. I'm Daenerys. The Trader who brought the crimson cloth." WHich he never got to make into that awesome dancing outfit.

Ivaenth won’t spurn the company of firelizards! She rumbles to their trilling and they’re invited to join her and perch upon her ridges or her neck; the rest of her is submerged beneath the water, where she continues to lazily float. “That’s right!” Miel snaps her fingers, sponge now hand in a lone hand and leaves the other free to casually gesture. “Hello again then, Daenerys! How have you been finding Candidacy so far? I’m sure you lot are probably a little stir crazy by now.” Especially with summer’s heat making some chores just that much more pleasant!

So, so pleasant, the chores! Suddenly anything to do with cold storage is literally the best chore ever! "To be perfectly honest, I wish it were Hatching Day already." Never let it be said that Daenerys will fake the funk, at all. Idly, he begins coiling a lock of his hair around his finger as he watches his fair settle in on their newfound friend, thrumming as they get comfortable. "It's like apprenticing all over again, only I've had a taste of not being watched all the time." He laughs a little. "It's…. unusual."

“That’s usually the sentiment of most once the glamor wears off,” Miel chuckles and tosses the sponge from hand to hand in an idle fashion. She’s never one to be wholly still, but thankfully her movements are not a betrayal of restlessness. Another grin, for his reflections. “It’s definitely something of it’s own, Candidacy. You’ll wish for the day to come and then it’ll pass and you’ll pine for the experience all over again. Classic cycle.”

Perhaps Daenerys and Miel are twinsies? For the candidate is still twirling and untwirling his hair. It's nice to be able to fidget with something, isn't it? "Ha. I do believe I shall be too old the next time Search comes, should I not Impress this time." Somehow he doesn't sound at all disappointed by the prospect by not having another chance at being dragonbait. "My sister seems to like it, though. Xanthee. She throws herself into it lock, stock, and barrel." He eyes Miel sidelong, smiling a little. "Faranth, I sound like a petulant child."

Miel laughs, “Hardly. You sound more like an average Candidate to me! And if it’s true that you won’t see another… well. Enjoy what you can and if it’s not in your cards come Hatching Day, at least you have memories and stories to tell.” There’s a helpless shrug there. As for Xanthee, that earns Daenerys a curious look, when she isn’t glaring at Ivaenth. “Ha’ze gave me the rundown of his family and I know Xanthee is one of his. Didn’t know she had a brother…” Half? She won’t outwardly presume, but she does look at him expectantly for a little more elaboration.

"That's how I'm looking at it — it's an experience, whether I Impress or not. It's not my first, but still." Daenerys laughs, softly. "Oh, Xanthee and i are not related by blood; Edlsesa and I are, though — she is my half sister, by way of A'lory. I sort of adopted Xanthee when she was younger; she seemed to need an extra eye on her, and… well. She was kind of cute, trying to flirt with me." Daenerys shrugs, amused at the memory. Finally, he lets go his hair, leaving it to fall where it may down his torso. "Much too young for it, but cute all the same."

“Not sure if I’ve met Edlsesa yet! I’m behind. Normally I make it a habit to know most of the Candidates. Had to go about it differently this round!” Miel has yet to officially set things in stone with Vosji, but the greenrider is still aiming to take up her role as assistant weyrlingmaster when the time comes. “It’s interesting to see a family that is connected in so many ways. Blood or no.” Light laughter, for the rest and a shake of her head. “Some young folk are just that way. Girls and even boys! Can’t be helped.” Oh, hormones. Ivaenth has drifted closer while they talked and it’s with some relief that Miel sighs. “Finally! Sorry, Daenerys. Gonna have to cut our little talk short!” For obvious reasons! And that sponge, so withheld earlier? It’s lobbed at the green, where it harmlessly pings off the side of her neck.

Daenerys grins. "Yeah. It's been fun, though, having both my sisters in the same place." And the mischief thehy get into! As to that whole thing about kids being that way, Daen simply eyes Miel with sweet, sweet innocence. "No idea what you mean…" Uh huh. He was that boy when he was Xanthee's age; hence his patience with her under most circumstances. "No worries! I should go and get myself some food, anyway. I'm starving." He calls his lizards away, thoguh they protest mightily — finally, the idea that they might not have to hunt for themselves makes an impression. With another salute, Daenerys is off. "Enjoy your evening, rider!"

Miel grins, “Not often you get to share Candidacy with siblings!” As for that look of innocence? She’s not buying it and says as much by the scoff she gives him before tipping off a salute his way. Still casual, half playful! “Clear skies and the same to you, Candidate!” And with summer’s light fading, she’ll turn to step into the shallows and get to scrubbing Ivaenth clean before full nightfall.

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