Who

Treista, Ryott, Ulrika, Rhuordian

What

Treista takes some of the candidates out to clean out burrows and finds frustration in trying to get to know them.

Some Swearing

When

-- On Pern --
It is 9:29 AM where you are.
It is midmorning of the thirteenth day of the seventh month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the seventy-third day of Summer and 109 degrees. Overnight, the temperatures plummet to a reasonable heat. Sand coats everything.
In Southern:
It is the seventy-third day of Winter and 37 degrees. Still dark and overcast, the winter rain has picked up and become heavier, albeit still pleasant.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the seventy-third day of Winter and 0 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Where

Southern Weyr; Feline Territory

OOC Date 18 Mar 2019 06:00

 

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"FUCK"


feline_territory.jpg

Feline Territory

The heart of the rainforest is more than the weight of so many trees, the impossibly thick fines that fall from the tops of the canopy, nor the jungle floor littered with detritus from the centuries the rainforest has made a home on the Southern Continent. The silence is eerie here, where not even the call of birds filters through the densely packed trees. The presence of something malevolent watching is easily felt here as anything that finds their way into these far reaches of the jungle would feel it necessary to 'run' from whatever it is that hunts these depths. Even Rukbat's light barely filters through, adding shadows and green-filtered light to further trick the eyes. Something deadly hunts here.
The area is thickly forested with many banyan, ficus and sandlewood trees.



Of course threadfall would wait until after the storm to fall. Though scheduled, and normal, with only a slight injury in Siberian, it was still a bit of a day. Now, with the dragons clear of the skies, it's just left to the ground crews to clean up and seek out any thread burrows that may have occured during fall. Treista is at the head of this, dressed in suitable clothing, ie leathers with a flame thrower, she leads some candidates, and the near graduated weyrlings in a crew on the ground. She'd already done an extensive lecture on flamethrowers and their use on the ground, and now it's time to put them all to the test. "Alright candidates and weyrlings, here's the game plan. We are one crew in and of ourselves, other crews are around but we are responsible for our grid. Pan out, WALK in a grid and search the entire area. Flamethrowers are not to be used unless you come across a live burrow. Am I clear? If I see any fooling around it will result in extra chores and confinement to the barracks. I will not tolerate any runner assing around, you got me?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Understood, Ma'am." Ulrika double-checks her gear - though it might be a triple-check at this point - before the tank is shouldered and nozzle held. Her fingers stay away from the trigger, though, as trained, and there's a quick salute to Treista as the final instructions are given. Her gaze flicks skyward, briefly, before her regard settles back on the goldrider and the task at hand. Once the signal is given to go, she'll go, but not a moment before that.

Who thought it was a good idea to give Ryott a flame-thrower? Even though her features are kept to utter neutrality, there's a wicked gleam deep in the girl's gaze as she stares down the end of that nozzle. She looks a little strange, in a bulky set of leathers that doesn't quite fit, but she manages to shoulder her tank and secure it with only a few grunts of effort and now she is standing, readied when the weyrwoman speaks up. Ulrika and her excessive "Ma'am-ing" get a bit of an eyeroll, before she nods in response to Treista.

Instructions given, Rhuordian salutes and checks his flamethrower for the thousandth time, not wanting to have an issue. Nozzle in hand, he too keeps his finger of the trigger. As the group splits to walk the grid, he moves near Ulrika, wanting to be in a group where he at least knows one person. A Weyrling tags after him and joins their group as well. For now however, Rhuan just smiles at Ulrika and stands there, grinning silently at her response to Treista's orders and Ryott's resulting eyeroll.

Treista looks on as the Candidates and Weyrlings split into groups and begin walking the grid. Treista herself latches onto a group of the nearest ones. "Ryott, Ulrika, Rhuordian, Caspi, J'ern, Ezma, and G'rou to me please. We'll be walking the center grid!" Treista waves them all over, catching a gaze eye to eye with each of them in the process.

That eyeroll is either unseen or unresponded to, though more likely the former; in either case, the former guard takes her position as indicated with a stiff nod to Treista. She easily meets the goldrider's regard, unblinking and steady. Ready for work, this one; always. Ulrika cuts a look sidelong to Rhuordian, though, his smile being infectious enough to prompt a half-smile in the otherwise stony-faced blonde. "You ever do this before?" While it's directed to Rhuan, there's a flick of her gaze to Ryott as well, purely to assess the readiness of her fellow Candidates on ground crew.

Oh great…Ryott was so hoping not to be included in the weyrwoman's group, much harder to get away with half-assing a job when there's supervision. Grudgingly, she'll trodge over towards the junior weyrwoman, her gaze kept down, longish bangs hanging into her eyes. She'll lift it to meet Treista's when she feel it on her, but it's a fleeting thing and then she drops them again. Taking up a position near Ulrika, cause she might just need some entertainment if things get dull. Even though she wasn't asked, Ryott will pipe up with her answer anyway, "Nah, I haven't. Don't think anyone who knows me would put one of these in my hand." She says in an offhand way as she carefulyl goes over the contraption again, checking all the things she's been told to check.

Rhuordian straightens himself up when he finds he's under the Weyrwoman's perview. "Yes ma'am." Echoes his country twang and his grin widens at Ulrika's half smile. "Ain't done this before, but I've hauled plenty of firestone and plenty of the tanks around." He eyes the way Ryott moves closer to Ulrika. She's an interesting one…the little shorty. Her response to Ulrika's question has Rhuan chuckling lightly. "Why, afraid you'll burn the weyr down or something?"

Once her group is in position, Treista gives the candidates and Weyrlings a moment to check their equipment, get introductions out of the way and get into position before speaking again. "Alright, we all settled and ready now?" There's a bit of amusement in her face, despite the actual severity of the situation. "Now, there were a few clumps that got past the dragons and the active ground crew. It's our job to find them and root them out. YOu all should know what a thread burrow looks by now, if you've forgotten, stick close to me and I'll point the first of them out to you. Don't let it touch you and for shell's sake, please don't let any get away. Burn it out, overkill it if you have to."

There's another firm nod and another "Yes, Ma'am," to Treista when she finishes the explanations. There is no amusement on her face while the discussion is this kind of serious, though that half-smile inexorably sneaks back when she looks back to Rhuordian. It's his grin that's doing it, seriously. This is his fault, not that she's complaining. "It's easy enough, as she says. Mind the trigger; don't touch it until you mean to use it." Then there's a look back to Ryott, seriousness returning once more, "Aye, well, if you Impress, odds are good that it'll be to one of the biggest flamethrowers you'll ever work with. Best to learn respect for the tools at hand now before you deal with the living ones, aye?"

"Yes Ma'am," Ryott repeats under her breath in a way that isn't quite mocking, but it definitely mimics Ulrika's delivery subtly. To Rhuordian, she shoots a completely serious look before reply with, "Something like that." in her totally serious deadpan delivery. Instructions are quietly absorbed, and she nods her head along almost imperceptiveably with each. Her finger hovers near the trigger. Itchy? It might be. Bring on the burrows.

Rhuordian salutes when Treista gives the order, and nods when Ulrika cautions about the trigger. Moving to his place in the grid, Rhuan waits for the go to be given. Ryott is given an odd look. "Ya serious?" His gaze narrows a little. Hmmm. Interesting. He stows that curiosity away for later examination. And for the last time, he checks his equiptment.

Treista takes one last look as the candidates and weyrlings take their places. Once satisfied, Treista wedges herself into the middle, which happens to be right between Ryott and Ulrika. "Alright folks, let's get moving and put some hustle into it! Not too much mind you, lest we miss something, but don't dawdle. I'd like to get back to the Weyr sometime before supper." And with a shrill whistle, Treista sounds the go and people begin walking the grin in a pre-prescribed pattern.

Likewise, there's a final-final check of her own gear before Ulrika's ready to go. When the weyrwoman takes her position, there's a slight nod to her - and then it's onward, moving at a purposeful pace, neither too fast nor too slow, while she scopes the area out for any sign of burrows. She does glance up from time to time to see how the others are doing; less to offer advice and more to make sure that the others are doing their due diligence. She's in full 'work' mode now, falling silent while she concentrates on the task at hand.

And on the other end of the spectrum, you have Ryott. Who is trying not to bristle when the weyrwoman comes over and gets between her and the guard-candidate. Well that's no fun at all. Her shoulders hunch a little as she starts out in the pre-arranged pattern, but doesn't really try to keep pace with the rest. It's not that she's going too fast or too slow, but she seems to wander off course a couple times by something that distracted her, investigate it, then seem to remember what she is in the middle of doing and pulls herself back to the task at hand. She tries to keep her eyes on the ground in front of her, honest, but it's just…so….boring.

Rhuordian is doing his best to keep pace with the group, shoretening his strides so that he does not get too far ahead of anyone. He and those to the right of him are soon tackling their first burrow, burning out the silvery parasite within. It's hot, stinky work, but it has to be done. The first couple tries with his flamethrower show why so many precautionary rules exist around them. There's a certain kickback to the device and it takes some getting used to.

Treista is doing more than just keeping the candidates and Weyrlings on track by placing herself in the middle of them. This gives her a chance to observe from all angles. She soon leaves Ulrika to her own devices, seeing the girl has a level head and is in the zone. She'll talk to her in a moment. But Ryott's seeming distraction catches Treista's attention. "Candidate Ryott! With me if you please!" Yes. Right under her nose where she can watch and perhaps question the candidate….

It's not long before Ulrika's wrangling with her own burrow, though she's peripherally aware of Treista peeling away to do whatever she needs to do. There's no lingering look in the woman's direction, though, just a slight adjustment to keep track of whatever might be missed by the weyrwoman's slight diversion. She checks the burrow, aims, and braces before firing the device. The kickback isn't too terrible when a person's ready for it, but it's still a bit jarring the first few times. It is utterly foul work, but her expression's grim and she's dedicated to seeing it through. "Aye, I think we'll all have earned a good long bath after this is seen through," she remarks once she confirms her burrow's been dealt with. Then it's onward, the stink of the flamethrower sticking to her loaner leathers and her hair.

Surely there are some entirely uncharitable things running through Ryott's head when she hears her name being so formally called. She's getting flashbacks to Spyling training for sure, as she lifts her head significantly to acknowledge the very tall weyrwoman with a curt nod. There's a reluctant slink to her gait as she makes her way to the woman's side, but keeps her gaze down on the ground in front of her. To her credit, the equipment is being respected, she holds the nozzle carefully, and she was oviiously listening when the safety talk was going on. Catching when Ulrika finds her own burrow out of the corner of her eye, the girl scoffs very quietly under her breath, biting back some taunt or tease surely.

Rhuordian is soon finding there are too many people in his tackle group, so, he moves to join Ulrika, switching with someone who was on her side of the grid. "That kickback is somethin' to get used to… I have a feeling that shoulder is gonna be hurtin' in the morning." He rolls his shoulders just as someone calls out about spotting a cluster of burrows. Gesturing at Ulrika to follow, Rhuan moves to help out.

"Do you think you could manage to not lolligag candidate? What we're doing is important, and something you'll need to have skill in should you impress, though being able to work a ground crew should you not, is a good skill to have." Treista is totally scolding, but this is literally a life and death matter. Letting a threadburrow spread could be catastrophic, even with the ground being more full of grubs than elsewhere. "Tell me Ryott, why did you accept search?"

"Aye, it will," Ulrika replies to Rhuordian with a thin ghost of a smile, a smile that knows all too well about that kind of pain. "But I know a few tricks as will ease the ache in your shoulder after. It won't take it all away, but it'll make it tolerable. If you don't mind a bit of laying on of hands, that is." She lifts her head at that call as well and, after a final check of her section and a mental note made to her last location, she nods to Rhuordian and tracks after him, though she'll do her best to look for anything else along the way. But, once at the spot where the burrows were spotted, she sets to work again, releasing gouts of flame into the dreaded burrows.

Ouch! A scolding is never fun, and even worse coming from a weyrwoman. Ryott fights the urge to mumble something very unwise under her breath, steeling her expression back to its default emotionless mask, although it takes some effort. "Yes Ma'am." is uttered through lips pulled into a tight line after the scolding is done and the teen tries to keep pace with the very tall lady and her very long legs, scrambling only a bit before finding a stride that works. To her last though, she offers a shrug. "Do I need a reason? I was asked. I said yes."

Rhuordian turns a bit pink. "I uh…Are we allowed to do that?" He's not sure what to think about Ulrika's offer. It sounds nice…but feels just this side of taboo considering the rules they all now live under. He's then kind of quiet on the way to the burrows. Once there, there's too much work to be done to focus on anything else. Well, except maybe keeping the contents of his last meal down. It really is foul smelling work.

Treista's nostrils flare a bit as she sighs sharply at Ryott's reply. Something about the girl's clipped response raises an intriguing flag in the Jr Weyrwoman. But, before she can say much, that call for the cluster is made and she signals Ryott to follow, also making a mental note of her last position. Once there, it's a bit of hard work to clear the cache, but eventually it's done. When it is, everyone moves back to their grid assigment and moves on. When this happens, Treista makes sure to track down Ryott. She's not getting away that easy! "You're still with me, come along." Treista looks around and spots Ulrika too. "Don't wander too far off Candidate Ulrika. I'd like to speak to you in a moment too." Turning back to Ryott, Treista measures her up. "There must be some reasoning behind why you accepted search and stayed?" Certainly the girl has more than a 'I just said yes' behind things?

"It's all above the belt, Rhuan; not a thing to worry after," Ulrika replies, a wry note in her voice. "Or I could see if my brother could do it for you. He usually helps when my shoulders are hurt like that." So, it should be safe enough! But that's all for the banter on her end, at least while she continues through the motions. She hisses breath through her mouth instead of her nose, with a mental note to bring a kerchief next time to help dull the stink of fumes and make the air a little more tolerable. The work turns into a bit of a blur at times, everything rendered in a mechanical way. But, then, it's done and she lifts her head, with a shake of her head as if to clear it. Soon enough, they're all back to their positions and the former guard glances to Treista when she's called to. "Understood, Weyrwoman. I won't be too far." There's a quick salute to the goldrider and then she's back at it, scanning the area for the telltale signs of burrows.

Oh look, a distraction! Ryott silently thanks Faranth and every one of her toes when the call for that clump is given and she jogs after Treista to lend a hand. Being not as tall nor bulky as Ulrika and Rhuordian, Ryott actualyl stumbles back a step when the recoil hits her for the first time, letting out a very loud, "Fuck!" as she manages to keep the nozzle pointed in the right direction at least. When the burrow is dealt with, the teen tries to spot a way to maybe slip away in the chaos, but curse Treista and her sharp eye. Grudgingly, she takes up her position at the woman's side, trying not to roll her eyes as she just does not let up with her questions. She freezes when the woman turns on her, narrowing her dark eyes as her body language and expression gives nothing away even while she's being measured up. "Why does there have to be, Ma'am? If I don't have a reason, will you make me leave?" she asks with a bit of a curious tilt of her head, effectively turning the questioning back on the goldrider. It's a bold move, let's see how it plays out.

Rhuordian turns a little redder. "I ain't too worried, it's just, we gotta follow the rules or we're in a heap o' trouble, and possibly booted as well. As long as it doesn't get us a metaphorical whoopin' for doing so, I…I'm good with it." Head down and work Rhuan, shut up! The lady offered something nice! Geez. Ryott's extra loud curse earns her a chortle and a grin though. Poor girl. So tiny. It's almost adorable really. However, he's back to work by the time the young Northerner gets to sassing the Weyrwoman. However, a few others notice and stop to watch. That takes some balls Ryott.

It must be a comical sight, this. Treista, a mountain of a woman, having a battle of wills with a woman who's gaze is about level with Treista's bosom. It's nothing new for the Jr Weyrwoman however, she does a lot of looking downward when speaking to people. However, right now the women seem to be sizing each other up and Ryott does not seem to be giving anything up. This nibbles at Treista, having the wheels and cogs of her mind churning. "No, we won't make you leave. I can believe someone says yes to search on a whim, but those that do don't generally end up staying. Why did you stay then? What motivates you here, beyond the possibility of a lifemate on the sands? Have you thought about what you will do if your dragon is not on those sands?" It is part of Treista's job to get to know the candidates, to help in educating them and preparing them for Weyrlinghood should they impress.

There's a faint laugh-slash-snort from Ulrika and a glance askance to Rhuordian. "Do you think I'd be one to break rules any, Rhuan? Even for you?" It's an honest question from the former guard, paired with a quirked eyebrow and an equally tilted grin. There might be more to be said, too, but she finds another burrow and tends to it, having found her footing properly again and her resolve, as well. Whatever's going on with the Weyrwoman and Ryott, though- she's listening keenly, aye, as anyone within earshot surely is, but she keeps to her work. It's none of her business - or, at least, she makes a fine show of it not being her business, anyway. There's definitely some information-gathering at work, though; it can't be helped.

"I said I would stand, so I'm gonna stand. There's my reason for sticking around, ma'am," Ryott retorts, not removing her gaze from the weyrwoman's, and not giving an inch either as she subtly juts her chin up, maybe defiantly, or maybe just to get her eyeline out of the woman's chest type area. "I have my plans, and they are my own. I'm a rather private person," she explains in her deadpan way, "I'm sure you're respectful of that, ma'am." Her last could almost be taken as a polite way of saying 'back off', but surely the youth didn't mean it that way.

Rhuordian shrugs. "I don't know you all that well miss Ulrika, so it would be unfair of me to assume either way. But better to be on the side of caution than not, aye?" Rhuan finds a burrow and begins flaming it out. Work. Just work. And when he's done, he changes the topic of conversation. "You have any theories on how many of each color we get?" They already know there's a gold out there…most likely. But he's curious to see what other people think will hatch out.

Treista isn't giving an inch either, finding herself more and more intrigued even though Ryott is giving her next to nothing. And perhaps that in itself is the driving force behind the intrigue. Ryott's last hits a nerve, but Treista doesn't budge. Her stubborness and dogged persuit of things she finds interesting are probably part of what made her guard material. One part of Treista wants to explain that once one becomes a dragonrider, one's life is no longer one's own. She decides on a different route, however. "And what will you do should you impress and your mind and thoughts are forever fused with those of your dragon? You are never alone up here again after impression." Treista taps her temple for emphasis.

"Fair enough," Ulrika replies to Rhuordian, pausing to check another hole that proves to be nothing more insidious than a den for vermin that's now home to spinners. The topic shift leaves her silent for a few long moments, sucking her teeth consideringly. The hunt for Thread burrows continues, of course, but her section seems to be out of them for the time being. "I've never been much good for guessing that kind of thing," she eventually admits to the Miner. "Seems strange to me," she shrugs, but does a quick run of numbers in her head. "Forty or fifty green, twenty or maybe thirty blue? Probably five or six bronze, the gold, and the rest brown, if the math holds." Which, well, who knows if it does at this point. The golds always know what to lay and she wouldn't be at all surprised if the numbers were skewed severely in one direction or another. "How about you? Given the numbers any thought?"

"I guess I'll be a dragonrider," Ryott replies as if it's the simplest thing in the world. There's a look around her a bit at the bustle of the burrow hunting then back at Treista. "Is that all ma'am? I hate to see my fellow candidates working so dilligently when I'm standing idle." No, she really doesn't, but the Zingari teen would say just about anything right now to stop with the interrogation, cause you know that's what it truly is, that she's getting from Treista at the moment.

Rhuordian nods. "Aye, I figure a great lot of them will be green or blue, not sure enough to bet on it, but I'm guessing. I think we might get more bronzes than you think though. I'm betting at least….ten, fifteen bronzes. I think the browns will be the lowest of the populace." He shrugs. "Can never know for sure, but that's my thought on the matter." Just then, Rhuan gets called over to help another candidate with their tank and a weyrling moves in to take his place.

Treista nearly growls with frustration, but it doesn't actually end up that way, she's a bit too formal for that. AFter a good long stare down, Treista waves towards the work. "I suppose you can, but I'd get used to lines of questioning if I were you candidate, I won't be the only one asking questions as we get closer and closer to when the eggs hatch. I suggest you think about those questions and see if there isn't a bit more…substance to your answers. You are dismissed, go help with the burrows." After dismissing Ryott, Treista takes a moment to gather her thoughts and then whirls on Ulrika. "Candidate Ulrika! With me please!"

"Could be." Ulrika considers Rhuordian's guess - but, knowing no more than anyone else does, she shrugs. "We'll see, then, aye?" It's no challenge, though; it's just a matter of time at this point and the guard-Candidate isn't keen on counting baby dragons before they've hatched. When he moves away, she offers a wave to him, then offers a salute to the weyrling that steps in to take his place. There's a glance to Treista and Ryott, but more to mark where they are and see if there are burrows in their direction that might need seeing to. Her section is more or less clear - so, when Treista calls for her, she's already facing the goldrider and can snap off a quick salute. "Yes, Ma'am." She tags another Candidate over to fill in for her and lopes over to the Weyrwoman.

Stare-down? No problem. Ryott keeps her dark gaze level and neutral and she gives back as good as she gets. Treista's warning is given the benefit of a tilt of the girl's head to one side, an indication she's probably listening. Smartly, the teen keeps her mouth shut and when she's dismissed, she'll knock off a smart salute, lips whitening and pressed into a firm line. When Ulrika is called over, there's a flash of dark mischief in her eyes as her body subtly tenses for a moment and there are some considerations made behind unfathomable gaze. But in the end, Ryott just passes by the guard-candidate with hardly a bat of her eyelash as she goes off to probably look for a burrow, although she will try to subtly remain within earshot if she can do so without raising suspicion.

Pushing her irritation and curiosity aside, Treista takes a breath as Ulrika approaches and when the guard candidate is in front of her, she's back to her nuetral face. She motions for Ulrika to follow her and moves further up the grid (though probably not completely out of hearing range) and begins her interrogation anew. "So, Ulrika, why did you accept search? What are you hoping to gain from it?" Treista raises a brow and spares a glance for Ulrika before looking to the ground again for burrows.

When it comes to Ryott, the guard is understandably cautious. No opportunity is given for mischief to occur, when possible, and this is no exception; she might not catch that look in the Igenite's gaze, but the look flashed Ryott's way is one of stony, wordless warning. Ulrika takes a position near the Weyrwoman and, while she doesn't relax, precisely, she is still calm. She follows the wordless direction and continues her search for burrows, but there's a sidelong look to the woman for those inquiries. Her replies are, predictably, straightforward: "Duty, first and foremost. My mother and brother are both riders, so I've heard plenty about the benefits - and the risks - of it. I accepted because I was asked and because it is an honorable duty." Her brow pinches a little, expression sliding to something pensive, and she adds, "I hope to continue to serve the Weyr. That's what I was reared to do, what I've trained to do as a guard. And, after having touched the eggs, after having experienced what they are, even in the shells… I think I have an idea of why my brother has been hounding me for turns to Stand." It's the 'boring' answer, perhaps, but it's also the most honest one.

Hefting the tank onto her shoulder, Ryott re-adjusts her grip on the nozzle and grudgingly begins her half-hearted search of the grid. When she catches sight of something wriggling in the grasses, the teen kicks a clod of dirt out of the way and reveals a tangled squirming mess. Not a moment later, the teen lets loose a gout of flame, properly braced against the kickback this time now that she knows it's coming. There's an intensity in her eyes as the girl flames the parasite to ash, a look of cold satisfaction in her eyes, and maybe using the opportunity to blow off a little steam from that conversation with Treista.

Treista nods. SHe understands the sentement behind Ulrika's words, but they are words she's heard time and time again. It is indeed the respectable, and boring answer. True enough it is, just, Treista was looking for something…more. Though Ulrika's last earns her a couple of points. How she feels is exactly what Treista was looking for. "And what exactly happened to make you change your mind this time? I assume your brother has asked you to stand for a fair few clutches with what you said?" Treista eyes Ryott out of the corners of her eyes when she can, though the teen seems to be behaving herself. For now.

"Aye, he has. I didn't… understand, to be honest," Ulrika replies. Her words come slowly, though; deliberately, as if she has to work a little to pry them loose. "It's one thing to see my mother's green or my brother's brown and to help care for them. They're just there and I have no way of knowing what it is that makes them special, other than knowing they're part of the family." The pensive expression deepens and she continues, the words still slow but building in a steady stream. "We already served the Weyr as guards. It's risky, but not as risky as the job the dragonriders do. I just didn't understand the appeal of it. Not really. But then I touched the first egg and it was- it felt like my eyes opened for the first time. Not enough to really understand, but enough to see, if that makes sense. It was a new feeling. Something strange and rare. I am sorry that I don't have the right words for it; I'm no Harper, Weyrwoman. The eggs want someone. They need someone. And I find that I want to be someone that they need." Something is missing in the gears of her words, but there's nothing to be done for it; it's less an omission and more a lack of ability to articulate, a struggle that's writ plainly on her face.

When the burrow is finally ash, Ryott pokes around with a stick to make sure she's got it all before she begins to mvoe on again. Catching some of Ultika's answers to Treista's questions, the teen engages in some rolling of her eyes when her back is to the two blonde women. She'll keep her head down then, and keep her ear on the conversation, but otherwise, grudgingly do her job.

Treista nods again, apparently more satisfied with this answer than the one before. And, the girl ends up unintentionally giving the weyrwoman the answer to her next question. Treista is quiet for a moment before she nods and seems at peace with the answers. "Very good. Well. I'll talk to you again soon then, alright?" And with that she dismisses Ulrika, not needing to pry more because the girl had given the information asked. It has Treista near chuckling to herself, the difference between these two girls. Its a few moments more and then she

Treista nods again, apparently more satisfied with this answer than the one before. And, the girl ends up unintentionally giving the weyrwoman the answer to her next question. Treista is quiet for a moment before she nods and seems at peace with the answers. "Very good. Well. I'll talk to you again soon then, alright?" And with that she dismisses Ulrika, not needing to pry more because the girl had given the information asked. It has Treista near chuckling to herself, the difference between these two girls. Its a few moments more and then she's tracking down some mousy unsuspecting girl from Nabol and treating her to the same set of questions.

"Understood, Weyrwoman." Ulrika ducks her head briefly to Treista and, once she's dismissed, she takes her place in the grid, filling in where a gap has formed. The Nabolese girl is spotted and there's a faint pang of sympathy, though there's no discernible shift in her expression. How will that one do? It's hard to tell. Though there's a brief, flicked look to Ryott, her expression is inscrutable and her attention shifts back to the duty at hand; it'll be a long day yet but at least there's plenty of work to help the time fly.

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