Sunset in the pastures finds one slight-built Smith journeyman doing what she does best in the candlemarks given to her own fancies: hiking along the pastures of Southern. Tzielle has a pack and a walking stick (it's taller than she is, though really that's not a difficult thing to accomplish, really) and she's hiking her way through a little hillock speckled with ovines. They're too busy eating the grass down to the weeds to mind one young woman roaming among them. Tzi, meanwhile, is just beaming to have this opportunity, her eyes roving over each of the fluffy creatures in turn.

If she was eating them, then this scene would have an entirely different flavor! But she isn't, and so Maikah and his canines are just going to go about their business. With a shrill whistle he sends Shep and Pard out to pull a small portion of the flock to an aged looking holding pen. It's the time of the turn, where really, the ovines should look like naked sheep-rats rather than fluffy clouds. "Evening" The singlet clad Maikah is polite as their paths look set to cross. "Nice night for it." There is a jerk of his bearded chin towards that very tall walking stick.

Tzielleth would be an AWESOME dragon, tyvm. And she would devour each and every one of these woolly beasts and wear their hides as comfy cozy coats! It would be fantastic. Alas, she is but a human, and one that looks vaguely alarmed at the shrill whistle that sends dogs into her vicinity. The Smith holds real still as the two do their work, and then swings 'round at the greeting. "Oh," her eyes are big as saucers a moment but then she calms, if not relaxes: "Hello." She takes a step back, putting a judicious amount of space in-between them. The brunette gauges the distance and then reflexively smiles up at Maikah, an anxious little pleasing thing. "It uh, it is a very nice night, isn't it?" The desert tones of Igen Hold map her voice that edges in the line between alto and soprano.

Maikah isn't from around these parts either. The drawl of hill-country Keroon evident in his bass tones when he chooses to speak. It is evidence of his training that the dogs just do their thing, and evidence of the sheeps basic nature that they allow such goings on. He's just going to stand here by the gate and let his work do itself! "It is." Now that they have exhausted that topic, he's going to stand there awkwardly studying the woman for a moment or two longer than is polite. He has NO social skills really, which is why he works with sheep. "I'm Maikah." He eventually goes with. "Herder Journeyman." There is a twinkle in his blue eyes that suggests that she may already suspect this informational tidbit.

"You don't say?" Tzielle replies, taking another half-step back at his scrutiny. She's as awkward as he is, in equal measure if in different elements. She smiles in that almost-anxious way of hers again, but her eyes slither back toward the canines in the execution of their jobs after she seemingly finds her space sufficient enough to protect her against potential ax murderer Maikah. "They are… very well trained," she says, a little fascinated before turning back to the man. "I'm Tzielle. Smithcraft's regards to Herder," she says those last four words with the very painfully careful picking of a young woman following a script someone else wrote for her.

Well, Maikah has wielded an ax a time or two, usually in the service of dinner. Ain't no time for sentimentality with sheep… but people?! They're safe from axes, and only have to endure the mans taciturn awkwardness. Such as now. "They're coming along all right." His eyes flick to the pair, one of whom is barking, the other who is stalking. They work as a team as all good sheep dogs should! "Got a little way to go to match their parents." RIP original puppehs! "But thanks, I trained them myself." There is a little glow for the compliment, then a wink. "Eh, same back at you, but reversed." Herders are clearly all about the etiquette! "Next time, I'll just assume?"

Tzi more fully rotates to watch them work. She leans a little on her staff, having planted it firmly in Southern's grass so she doesn't slip. "The parents.. were better?" she queries, glancing back at Maikah for confirmation. "Wow. That's really impressive." And then she smiles, she fully smiles, and it's instant wattage. She's a bright little thing when she's not scared for propriety's sake, and it's immediately obvious that Maikah isn't a Telgari come to scare her into being the perfect little lady. "Just assume what?" she asks, her smile dimming as she blankly looks up at him.

Maikah frowns, it's not directed at the other journeyman, just more thoughtful. "I'll just assume our crafts are regarding each other, so it doesn't get in the way of conversation?" His tone is questioning, but it might be clear that he is attempting to put her at ease with what little social skills he has. "Yeah, I'll have to get a new dog or bitch in when it's time. This line is coming up cropper!" He'll just keep to the safe topic of his dogs, canines are easy comparatively. "Do you sharpen blades?" Random comment is random, and NOT AT ALL CREEPY MAIKAH!

"Oh." Tzielle seems at a loss for how exactly to respond to that. "Uh… I suppose so. I am sure the Smithcraft and the Herdercraft regard one another all the time, whether or not we're involved or not?" she tentatively replies, as if extending a very particular olive branch. She also might be just as awkward as he is. She DID tell Talya that she basically thought Southern turning conservative was all but inevitable, so… yes. That's Tzi. "Coming up cropper?" she asks as if to clarify, but then brightens at his otherwise-random comment. "Oh yes. I do extensive metal-working as part of my specialty. Sharpening blades are easy."

Maikah also brightens, because: "Oh, excellent! My shears are getting dull. Would you mind?" If he's going to get his flock of naked-sheep-rats, he really needs some help with his equipment. "No rush though." So he's going going to intrude on her evening hike. "I'd suggest the morning, but herders tend to get up early." But seeing as Smithcraft is watching Herdercraft sleep or something she might already be aware of that. "I can get you a beer in thanks?" This last is a little more tentative, almost shy.

"Sure. Do you have them?" Tzielle shifts, shrugging out of one side of her ruck's straps and allowing her staff to fall to the inner crux of an elbow, sheltered there as she swings the bag around and unbuckles the top flap and draw out the drawstring. There will be rummaging. Yes, Tzielle is the girl who carries around a whetstone with her. On a hike. In the pastures. "I know exactly how early you lot get up," she informs him, peering up under her dusty eyelashes briefly, "They fixed me a room just off the stables and if I can sleep past dawn it's a blessing." Exasperation in her light voice, even as triumph enters her face: aha, she lifts the palm-sized stone in victory. "Oh." Her smile even BROADENS. "I love beer."

WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON HERE?! <— That is the expression on Maikah's face. Clearly in his singlet and cut-offs he's not carrying the things right at the moment. "One moment!" He asks excitedly, even as he scrawls a note and sends off a brown firelizard. Just about as soon as she finishes rummaging through her backpack (Maikah watching on with interest, because daymn the girl is prepared), a baby-faced, red-cheeked apprentice puffs his way up the rise and hands the blunted shears to the journeyman before groaning and heading for home again. Herdercraft: encouraging running with scissors! "I love beer too. My shout." He promises with a nod of his head, even as he holds his tool patiently, waiting for the moment she can start.

There are an amazing amount of comments to be made here but frankly Tzielle is probably too innocent to say any of them, or perhaps she ISN'T innocent but pretends to be, but not really, let's be real here, she has no clue what she's doing. Except here and now she is sharpening some random dude's shears. "Here, I'll take those," she says, reaching forward for the implement with a flip of her wrist and open hand that comes across as unusually imperious given the hesitation of the rest of her movements up to this point. "I also want my own herder apprentice to follow me around and get me things whenever I need them," she says wistfully, gazing past Maikah to where the baby-faced appy went running.

Maikah carefully hands over the implement blunt side first. Given that electric shears are not a thing, it is a piece of bent metal with blades on both sides of the elongated U. There is a slight hesitation when the actual handover takes place. Trust this guy to get sentimental over a pair of oversized scissors. "Careful." Of the blades, or of his precious baby? Who knows. It might just be a general warning. Then a glimmer of humor returns. "'Shoulda joined Herder then." Because it stands to reason, that herder apprentices are one of the perks (the other perk is ALL THE FLUFFY ANIMALS). "Couldn't you get a smith apprentice?"

Tzielle rolls her lower lip between her teeth as she contemplates the method of attack for sharpening this implement, then switches to chewing on her upper lip as she moves to sit in the grass, letting her walking stick fall ignominiously to the ground as she does. Once she's cross-legged, she wedges it in a way for her to work on one side of the U at the time. A little bit of water from a waterskin to her whetstone, and she gets to work with the repetitive sounds of stone against metal rising from her efforts. "I teach them," she says distractedly, as of Smith apprentices, "So much as they listen to me, but. No. I'm just a," girl, "Junior journeyman."

Maikah coughs. "I've seen more than a few animals taken down by 'just a girl.'" Maikah is firmly on team 'Girl-Power' surprisingly, makes sense given his general lack of social awareness. He's just going to hover now, watching carefully. "There's screws…" But she's just going for it, so he'll shut up now, not inclined to give the Smith further instruction on her job (and his lack of helpful meta description). "You'll get over the junior soon enough. Give it a turn or two." There is a wink, age not experience right? Have Shep and Pard finished? Or has Maikah ruined all of their hard work by leaving the gate open? Given the bleating from the holding pen, it appears that once again the canines have saved his ass,as they sit panting in the open exit. "I wish I could have an apartment by the stables…" Sure she mentioned that ages ago, but he's jealous and can't help but say so aloud. SHE HAS PRIME REAL ESTATE!!

Tzielle is skilled where her writer may not be: if there's screws to unscrew or something that makes sensibility of her work, she will endeavor along those lines. Otherwise, she might just be very good at improvising where deft fingers show off her fine motor skills. She's absorbed in her work, not really listening to him when he declares himself mister-girl-power (though it will occur to her later); she pauses in her work suddenly and looks up, freckled nose wrinkling at him. "Really?" she asks, because … because. "It's the size of a closet." But she doesn't seem too displeased for herself. "I'm not even sure you could fit on the bed." She doesn't appear to realize what she's just said until a moment later, when her ENTIRE FACE goes scarlet. "I mean, uhmn, that is, I don't think they would have granted you the space since you… obviously wouldn't fit.." she awkwardly fumbles.

Maikah hovers slightly away now, his own cheeks flame-red, but hopefully disguised by the luxuriant beard he cultivates. Right, on to the matters that really matter. Watching her take care of his tool! After a moment or two to let that heat dissapate, he clears his throat. "I could probably fit if I put my mind to it…" Wait, what? "But Shep and Pard wouldn't have anywhere to go." He might even take a moment to kind of hunch over and bend his knees. He's not super-flexible however so it doesn't really diminish his length any. "You sure they didn't just give you a tackroom?" Because it's starting to sound as if they've just dumped her into an empty tackroom.

Tzielle looks up at him sharply — or quickly, as there's nothing shrewd about her wide-eyed look of alarm when Maikah insinuates that he could find a way. What! Don't be scaring the likely-virginal smith over here, evil Herder, she wouldn't know what to do with a non-bladed tool if it BIT her. But her hands still on the whetstone when he says what he does, and she tilts her head very slowly to one side. "A tackroom," she repeats, as if sounding out the word's true Platonian truth. "A tackroom," she repeats again, but this time, she sounds a little more shocked. "A tackroom!" and now she almost looks flustered again, despite her mousy ways now finding herself potentially — is this anger? Is that what this is?

It was a thought exercise, brought to life through clumsy interpretive dance! Maikah couldn't get laid if he was a firelizard egg. FOREVER ALONE! ;~; However his limited gymnastics come to a finish abruptly when her expression clears. "Well you did say it was small… and right near the stables right? Could be a toolshed." He attempts to diffuse in case she is against tackrooms specifically rather than not being housed as her rank requires. "Or a sow box?" He's trying to help! And failing the way only he can. "Careful." He reiterates, because she is still playing with a sharp object.

"A sow box?" Tzielle cries, flinging one arm wide as if to say, REALLY, Maikah, REALLY? Her knees steady the Herder's tool between her legs during her theatrics, keeping it steadily where she wants it. "I wish I had never come to Southern," she says, her voice both heated and dejected and edged just slightly bitter. "At least they didn't give me a toolshed as a room up there." No, she had the secretary's room off her master's ensuite, a tidy little room that made it very convenient for her to fetch his klah and his laundry and any little other thing he had need for her to run. But for now her narrow, gawky shoulders are dejected and slumped, and she stares down at the shears as if she's not really looking at them at all.

Maikah is absolutely horrified now. WHAT TO DO?! Well first, he's going to close that bloody gate! The sheep contained (and that's the important thing here!) he shambles closer warily because she's a girl and he doesn't understand those so well. "Southern's not so bad." He likes it here! Then again he also spends more time alone than he does with anyone else here, so he's talking about.. the sheep. Careful of that outstretched arm and those legs gripping the shears he clasps one large hand on her shoulder, comfort offered at a safe distance. "I'd swap." He declares, at least one this one guy, as clueless as he is, isn't so bad! "If you want." Even if he has to sleep all curled up with doggo's sprawled all over him.

When Tzielle looks up, her big hazel eyes are liquid from unshed tears. What? She's a girl who never had a normative teenager progression — this is bound to happen. Poor Maikah, though, being the one to set her off. "You'd do that?" she asks, sniffing a little, her face crumpling in a familiar way to all women when someone is NICE to them when they're having a moment of self-doubt. Two fat tears roll down her cheek and she turns her face down to better compose herself. "I'm sorry," she says, trying vainly to get ahold of herself, "I'm sitting here crying all over your shears." She sniffles again, but it sounds less hysterical and more like an effort of mastery coming in more effective than not. "And I kind of like my little tackroom," she says, her voice torn, like she knows she's been somehow ridiculed but can't help herself for what she likes. :( Maikah. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN. HOW DID YOU GET HERE. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!

Maikah is 100% serious! The tackroom bedroom sounds delightful! "In a heartbeat. Sometimes I'm away for sevens, so it's not so important." He gets a massive apartment with sea views and enough space for him and Shep and Pard. "I think they were pissed on once." He shrugs, trying to deflect that apology and that expression he can't read. "Don't worry about it." With ALL the guy logic at his disposal he reacts in a progressive order. "Oh." Does he sound a little disappointed? Perhaps. "Well, of course you do! It sounds amazing." Even if it was probably assigned to her as a cruel joke. "You can hang out at my place when I'm not around still." That offer is still on the table right?

"Really?" Tzielle's nose gets red even when she's struggled through a handful of tears, and there's a certain uneven blotchiness across her freckled cheeks, but the look she sends up to him might be considered endearing by one feckless enough to look upon a stranger and think them adorable even when crying. But Tzielle is pretty damn adorable despite herself. "You probably live in a pigstye." Like an ACTUAL one, not a metaphorical one. The hiss of stone against blade rises again as she knocks off rust and dullness from the other side of the implement, having returned to her craft to at least finish this out. Because his shears, well, he'll need them, won't he? Then she looks up, puzzled, something just hitting her. "You go away for sevens at a time?"

"It does get away from me sometimes. Maikah admits sheepishly, the shoulder-clasping hand reaching up to scratch under his man-bun. "I try to keep on top of it though." The mess in his apartment is more from disuse than disgusting personal habits. "Gets a bit dusty if I'm not around to open up the window." He is taking that pigsty comment as metaphorical, and is ashamed because his momma raised him better than that! "Yeah. My journeyman project." He says as if that explains everything. However it doesn't take long before his enthusiasm actually has him speaking at length. "I came here to compare Southern Ovine stock with Northern. And the challenges faced due to heat and predation. Every so often, I head out to check out the wild ones away from people." He makes it sound so casual but it is anything but! And then, he leans forward towards that adorable blotchy face as if revealing a deep secret. "I really want to see if adding wild stock to the Weyr's flock will make them more resilient to heat." That's his latest little idea.

Tzielle hides her baffled expression by turning her eyes back down to her work. So far she has prevented herself from cutting off a finger, but you know, something could happen at any time if she doesn't pay attention. The girl laughs more at the concept of having a window than needing to dust, but stills her hands and looks up owl-eyed when the Herder starts speaking at length on his passions. "I have no idea what you just said," she confesses at the very end, after he's told her his darkest secret, "But I think it sounds very good, I mean, like you know what you're talking about, not that I know anything at all about any kind of animals other than what kind of steak sauce to eat with herdbeast, and I mean, I don't — I don't dislike mutton but it's kind of, I don't know, I think that being resistant to heat, I mean resilient, I think that… that has to be good in Southern, doesn't it?" High color has assailed her cheeks again, the girl helplessly lost in her rambling verbal flail. She diverts her eyes down again and with purpose ruthlessly palms out the last few strokes to get Maikah's implement shining as it should be. Maybe a little rougher than she should, to get over her embarrassment at this all.

Maikah nods enthusiastically. "At the moment we're shearing two, three times a summer. Cruel otherwise." This is the entire reason he is here, and why she's handling his equipment so roughly. "But the beasts here have been here for hundreds of turns. There's documentation." So it's not just hands on learnin' it's book learnin' too! "So they'd have to adapt. And as you said, that's a good thing." She doesn't have to understand what he's saying, just let him say it! "I figure, the sames true for you though. I don't know the first thing about metal, but here you are, they look almost as good as new." And then he gives a thoughtful pause. "Mutton is shit. Most places boil it." There is a shudder for such sacrilege. "Lamb is better, particularly over a flame." Yes he EATS BABY SHEEP, FITE HIM!

"Really? Three times a summer? They grow that fast?" Tzielle follows that much at least, though she just nods along at documentation and adaptation. The girl unwinds her cross-legged stance and moves to lift to her feet, shears dangling from one hand as she carefully stands. She turns them 'round, holding them carefully to offer back to Maikah. "I think you're good now," she says, a little bashfully all things told. "But you might try it and tell me if any spots need touched up." Probably not. The blade-edge finish to both shearing surfaces look spotless, shiny, and sharp. Her nose wrinkles, then; a familiar gesture just from her face doing it so frequently. "You eat lamb? Aren't those… the babies?" FITE NITE

"Better me than the drag…" Maikah sounds almost bitter, but cuts that off right smart. "Sheep are randy buggers, they'd over-breed if we didn't find something to do with the babies." He's a good ole farm boy, one day it's a pet, the next day it's dinner! "And we don't have enough hands to shear that many sheep over a summer. Things grow better here, including fleece." As his shears are returned he cradles them as delicately as a baby he wouldn't eat, giving Tzielle a small smile. "I think they'll be fine. I'll find out tomorrow. I trust your work." Look theres an unexpected vote of confidence for you!

Tzielle looks up at Maikah when he says what he does, and she frowns. "I met this guy out here once," yes Maikah, this little Smithcrafter has been HIKING through your FIELDS and meeting STRANGE MEN (dragonriders), "And his dragon ate his way through… I don't know how many animals." She might be exaggerating. But she chews her lip and thinks and then nods, as if she's come to her own conclusion. It remains her own, as it turns out, because she suddenly beams up at him, all-but-glowing from the compliment. "Well… thank you, Herder," she says, swooping down to pick up her rucksack and her staff both before coming back up to stand again. "I, uh, I don't want to tie up more of your time," she trails off as she backs up a step, "But it was nice to meet you. Maikah." She says his name just to make sure she got it right the first time, because sometimes weird shit happens and people mis-remember names.

Maikah remembers his manners long enough to step away, and turn his head. Then there is all kinds of angry muttering, but ducking blunts really has no connection to this conversation does it? "Despite all the the culls we send along to the pens…" It is a regular occurrence. "Not that I would deny a dragon his dinner. But this lot." His hand waves over the sheep contained, and the sheep that are not. "Aren't dinner." This is his burden to bear however, and he'll try to do so! "Eh. Can't shear in the dark." And the sheep are penned thanks to the expertise of his puppers. "Want that beer now Tzielle?" He asks, pronouncing her name more like 'Zeal', fully intent on at least walking her back to the familiar paths of the weyr. "Maybe you can show me your room?" That isn't a come on, the Herder is genuinely curious to find out if she really does live in a tackroom #livingthedream!

DUCKING BLUNTS are the best thing in the world, there is a brown in Igen that would be very approving of Maikah's word choice. "Yes, I didn't… I didn't think these looked like the beasts they send to the feed lots." Maybe that's WHY. Or maybe it's just because some dragons are as perverse as people and want to do things they aren't supposed to. She's happy to fall into step with the tall Herder if he turns with her, offering one of those light-up-the-room beams upward to him as they first set off towards the weyr. Tzielle is indeed a … zealous young woman about many things. "I would love that beer." And she peers up at him, a little distrustfully despite the ease of conversation they've had (awkward bits aside); "You can pop your head in." Just the head. To check out how (not) roomy Tzielle's tackroom is.

Just the 'tip' Maikah promises. But he does see them home, and with fresh beer, and if Tzielle is a very good girl, he'll probably take her and the beer and hang out in the stables where a late litter of kittens play.

maikah is tzielle's favorite human EVER