Who

Divale, E'gus

What

E'gus is whittling away in the quiet and solitude of the morning; Divale, as requested, hunts him down… and sets him on a new path.

When

It is midmorning of the nineteenth day of the third month of the fourteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Standing Stones, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 13 Jun 2018 04:00

 

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Standing Stones

It is perhaps a pity that the Standing Stones lie in quiet isolation, half-forgotten in the Weyr's easternmost corner. Or perhaps it is inevitable: the grandiose beauty of these red rocks is ill-suited to Igen's coarse grit, and maybe only their loneliness allows them to survive unmarred. Whatever the reason, it cannot be denied that the Standing Stones, a lonely jumble of ancient boulders, have a glory about them. The tumbled field of pillars and arches has been shaped by eons of wind and water into strange shapes, twisted and rutted. The going is treacherous: only the Weyr's half-feral herd of caprines navigates the terrain with any ease. To the northwest, the lakeshore glimmers; to the east, rough-carved steps lead towards another ancient pile of rocks - though the Star Stones are less haphazardly placed than their Standing cousins.


Quiet and solitude. It's something E'gus has always enjoyed - perhaps why he had stuck with Woodcrafting in the first place. Thus, it's probably not a surprise to find him seated on a random bit of jumbled stone near the base of the Standing Stones, quietly enjoying the spring morning and absent-mindedly whittling at a bit of wood in his large hands. It's a bit chilly, to be sure, but E'gus has worn his thick wherhide jacket against the extra cold and is probably hairy enough overall to be impervious to the temperature anyhow. His beard is still neatly trimmed to a respectable inch-long length, though it's starting to grow out in some places. Now that he isn't under the constant supervision to keep it trimmed, he's likely gone back to some of his old ways. He even has gotten back into the habit of wearing his harness containing his woodsman's axe, which can be seen poking up above one shoulder.

There is something to be shared in common then, between E’gus and the one now ghosting up on him. Divale favours the same quiet and solitude, though it is not the drive behind her purpose of being here today. Lingering a few steps away, she’ll observe the greenrider for a moment before making her next move. “I see you haven’t given up on your skill,” she murmurs in lowered tones, voiced pitched so as not to carry too loudly. “Despite there being no surplus of wood so easily attained here.” Smirking, Divale moves to stand in front of the greenrider, gaze focused on him and not so much the project he’s working on. Dressed against the spring morning’s chill, she’s clearly fresh off patrols given the gear she wears.

E'gus somehow doesn't startle at the sudden greeting from Divale, though his pale blue eyes remain fixed on his whittling. With a practiced hand, he scrapes the edge of his knife along one edge of the wood, letting a shaving go flying off in the early spring breeze, "Bazaar sells lots of things." His deep tone may carry just a hint of amusement in his response to how he perhaps managed to obtain such bounty in a barren landscape. Once he's satisfied with the project for now, he lifts his gaze and bobs his head respectfully to Divale, "Wingsecond." His tone remains bland and neutral, though there's a hint of a smile lingering there on his lips. "Come to enjoy the view?"

“Mhm, that it does. Especially for those who know how to look,” Divale’s response is met with a slight narrowing of her gaze as she seems to study E’gus a little closer. It’s a small lure from her too, to see what sort of answer might be gained from him. His respectful greeting is met with an equal dip of her head. “Wingrider,” she quietly returns, just the breath of a chuckle in her voice as she adds. “Not entirely, no. On occasion, I do seek out the solitude to be found here, but that is not wholly the reason why.” The full explanation is not yielded, however. She seems content to leave that baited “trap” hanging.

E'gus pauses to scratch idly at his shortened beard with one finger before dropping his gaze briefly back to his whittling. A few more scrapes and silence before he makes a noise deep in his throat, "Mm-hmm. Still finding new things in the Bazaar." He'll leave it at that for now, as likely Divale already knows what sort of things might be found there. He shifts slightly on the rock, eyes still fixed on the flash of his knife's blade as he works it over the wood in his hand. "Not much else here," he notes, glancing up and squinting thoughtfully at Divale, "Not much plants, even." Subtext - he has no clue why else she would be here. There's a pause before he ventures, "Goats?" He keeps his voice neutral - who knows if he's joking or not. But he pointedly glances at a few roving caprines nibbling at what little plants are available up here.

It is true that Divale knows of a great many things that can be procured from the Bazaar; both legal and illegal. But she’s not about to admit to her knowledge and simply hints at it with a vague shadowed smile to E’gus. Two can play the cryptic game! And he’s given her more than enough from that answer. Calmly, she’ll move to a nearby rock pillar, leaning against it as their conversation resumes. She’ll leave him to guess, until he hits on one that is close to the target (and yet more of a tangent). “Sometimes,” she ventures idly. “Lukoith enjoys the challenge of plucking off some of the ones who venture high enough for him to reach.” Like those great eagles of Earth origin, only far more massive. E’gus would know from experience too that the brown has no shame when it comes to “accidentally” dropping his prey. “But he is not hungry. No,” There’s a small exhaled breath from her, almost as if bored. “I’m here because of you.”

E'gus makes a noise somewhere between disbelief and interest at the mention of Lukoith picking off one of those goats. He eyes said goats thoughtfully for a moment, silently assessing them in relation to what he remembers of the brown's size, "Seems a bit much. They're tiny." He huffs a breath and then rolls his broad shoulders in a shrug - dragons, who knows what they want to do at times and whether it makes any sense? A few more movements of his knife blade and he whittles a bit more wood away. Whatever he's making seems to be some sort of animal - a dog? A cat? Hard to say at this early stage, but it has four legs and a tail. Divale's true reason for appearing there earns a grunt of amusement, "Thought you weren't enjoying the view?" This all said in his usual deep, almost monotone voice. But there's enough crinkling at the corners of his eyes to betray the joke, even if E'gus no longer has his epic beard to hide his expressions behind as effectively. Sobering a bit, he adds, "You need something?" He doesn't seem too concerned that it may be anything /bad/ - he's kept his head down for most of Weyrlinghood and has been a model rider so far.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s eaten them before and to him they are prey. Size does not matter,” Divale grimly admits. “Nor does whether or not they are owned.” Needless to say, it’s been a bane she’s carried when Lukoith decides to feign ‘innocence’. His last victim being thankfully some time ago, during Rajakhelath’s flight where a run away runner had fallen to the brown. “They will eat wherries too, which are not always so large.” A shrug of her shoulders lifts, as though the topic is of moot point to her by then. E’gus’ joking remark earns him a lingering stare from Divale, though her mouth soon draws into a bemused smirk. Well played, greenrider. Well played! “It’s not so much what I need, but what is to be asked of you.” she replies but the crypticness ends there. Straightening her posture, her expression sobers. “I was sent to find you because Parhelion’s Wingleader asked it of me. Eala’s found you and Szokanith to be a desirable addition to the Wing, based on the reports we have and what’s been observed.”

E'gus tilts his shaggy head to one side when he finally hears the reason for the visit, his expression fairly impassive for the moment as he soaks in the request. It doesn't take him long, though, and he bobs his head once in affirmation, "Was hoping it'd be Parhelion. Seemed to fit." He swipes the blade of his knife over the wood figure in his hand again, sending another shaving of wood off into the breeze. He then grunts in a thoughtful sort of way, "When are we expected at drills?" His eyes glaze slightly and then he blinks, clearing them with another grunt, "Szokanith is a bit … eager." He presses his lips together briefly, trying his best internally to soothe the green who is likely chomping at the bit to do something useful.

Divale quirks a brow when E’gus admits that Parhelion had been his preference but doesn’t reflect on it further. Her gaze drops slightly to watch his continued work on the carving before that too takes a back burner. Szokanith’s eagerness brings about a smirk from the brownrider and she tilts her head to the side as if weighing her answer. “There are drills later this afternoon. I see no reason why you cannot join us then? We will concern ourselves with familiarizing you with the rest of Parhelion’s duties tomorrow. I’ve no doubt that Eala will brief you on the full details in that regard — you now will have more than just drills. There is PT, of course and our training in the Pit. You will also be allotted patrol shifts within the Bazaar…” Her hand lifts in a dismissive wave to the list. Nothing that won’t be explained to him in due time, but it’s not her duty at the moment. She was sent to fetch and collect and, to her opinion, has done just that.

E'gus nods along to Divale's words and gives a noise to indicate he totally understands what she's saying, despite his eyes being focused on his carving work for the moment. He does pause at the mention of fighting practice, though, "Pit? Fighting practice?" He seems to mull this possibility over for a moment before shrugging in resignation, "I'm guessing not with an axe." His shoulder movements cause the handle of his axe, which still juts out from one shoulder, bobble a bit in its harness, "Though I've had my fair share of fist fights." He's certainly brawny enough to be a threat, though his stockiness might be a deteriment to his reach, to be sure. "Sounds good," he notes, his deep voice even, "Lots of patrols lately? Been hearing of thefts in the Bazaar."

“Sparring, yes. You will learn to fight but from a defensive means.” Divale remarks dryly. “Though uncommon, sometimes the skill is necessary when aiding the Guards.” There’s is a delicate balance, however. Being riders first and foremost, they cannot risk themselves; but that doesn’t mean a Parhelion rider won’t find themselves in a troublesome situation! A low chuckle, “No, not with an axe.” Part of her is deeply amused by the imagined thoughts of how much terror that’d instil in some of the more petty criminals, but she keeps her features schooled to neutrality. “There has in been an increase in patrols, yes. That bit of gossip and rumour is not incorrect…” she mutters, with just a hint of an edge to her voice.

E'gus reaches up to touch the haft of the axe, inclining his head, "Don't have to use it. Nice having it there, anyhow." He twirls the blade of his whittling knife into the crevice of the wood he's carving, concentrating intently on a bit of minute detail, "Was odd not having it during candidacy and weyrlinghood." Maybe the rumors of him sleeping with it under his pillow were unfounded, after all. He makes an understanding noise in his throat, nodding his head in affirmation, "Mm-hm. Seemed like it might be true gossip for once." A few more scrapes of his knife and he adds, "I'll help out where I can." Or as much as a newbie to the wing can, anyhow.

“You’ll be given more details, once we’ve caught you up to speed on everything else first.” Divale shifts from the pillar of stone, boots scraping over the ground as she takes a few small steps. From that movement and her posture, it’s clear that this little meeting between them is coming to an end. “Of course,” she murmurs again to his statement of ‘helping’. Fixing him with another narrowed gaze, her expression remains her usual guarded state. “It would be best if you report to the Guardhouse before the drills this afternoon.” she amends. No doubt there E’gus can speak to his new Wingleader and receive his new knot and badge. Szokanith won’t have to be impatient much longer; soon enough they’ll both have enough on their plates to fill the day. “Until then, Wingrider? I’ll leave you to your… work.” Another hint at amusement as Divale dips her head and offers a parting salute. Her business is leading her elsewhere and away from the stones… no doubt back ‘home’ to her weyr to rest.

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