Despite any kind of rush that might be going on in the weyr, it's hardly noticeable here in the Bazaar. The young brownrider strolls along at an easy pace, stopping every now and then at random stalls to browse. A fruit is picked up at one and a mark handed to the salesman. "Thanks, as always, T'line!" the merchant calls out as he walks away. An absent wave is offered his way as the young man continues along. Biting into his fruit, he thinks to Pearenth. 'How much longer?' Eyes are gazing nowhere in particular and pay little attention to what's in front of him. 'Not too long now.' The dragon responds. Of course, this conversation goes unnoticed by all but the pair as T'line strolls along.

The Bazaar's bustle is as thoroughly engaging as always, especially to a young messenger sitting some distance away on a low, crumbling wall. She too is eating something, but a meatroll in her gaze, and watchful hazel eyes scan over the flow of people as they eddy past her. It's likely T'line's hair that draws attention to him more than the quiet, not-quite-there look of draconic conversation. One hand is stuck up in an amiable wave, a small thing that confers no especial responsibility to step over and visit.

Ambling along in the eddy, clear blue eyes looking here and there, Finn steps lively through the Bazaar. Extravagantly giving way to matrons with a toothy grin and a flourished arm, the Trader doesn't appear to have a care in the world. The character of the looks he settles on people and places marks him as an outsider, though he carries himself with confidence and, ugh, swagger. It's a good day to be him. He squints up at the sky, closing his eyes briefly to enjoy a breeze across his brow and then opening them to fall on … meatroll. "Afternoon Miss," he grins down at Veresch, "Where'd ya get that, eh?" He pats his belly and looks up to spot a meandering rider, eying the knot with interest.

As the conversation comes to a stop, T'line resumes his browsing of wares, eyes gazing about until he catches the messenger's wave. A return wave and grin are offered to her as he walks on over, invitation or no. "Afternoon there, Veresch. Done sending out messages yet?" he asks, sitting down easily beside her. Just as he does, someone else comes up, asking about the meatroll in her hand. "I dare say you can find them over in that booth over yonder." T'line replies casually with a smile on his face, using his head as a directional indicator.

Veresch's gaze, at least as it pertains to the swaggering trader, is not too impressed; she might have been, before she learnt the secret to a good swagger is a pair of socks in just the right location. Licking her fingers free of crumbs and bread-dust, she points back into the crowd a ways. "Over there," she murmurs, confirming T'line's directions with one fingertip; there's a smile for the Reika trader though. "Almost dinner in any case?" The smile transfers to T'line, growing a little wider. "All done, thankfully, finally. Don't tell my mother I'm here though, she'd scold me for eating so close to dinner."

Oh. That's SO far away. He peers at Veresch, she looks vaguely familiar. The knot, closer now, reveals T'line is a brownrider. That info stored away, Finn sketches a bow to the two, a grin for Veresch and a solemn nod for the rider. He scarpers away to secure a meatroll himself, sandy blonde head bobbing through the crowd.

A nod in the direction of the trader as he bows and heads in the direction that he and Veresch had directed him. Looking back at Veresch, he grins again, leaning slightly closer as he says, "I won't if you don't." He winks at the young messenger before sitting straight up and stretching out his arms. "All the dragons have been pretty edgy today. I think today's gonna be the day."

There's a fair hand-over-heart bow for Finn, courtesy given, before she watches his lean form idle off in the direction of a meatroll. "Get another one for me as well, please!" she calls. She'll buy one off him later on. T'line, however, gets a thoughtful look and a thud against the shoulder, the bump courtesy of a small fist. "Of course not," she mutters thoughtfully, arm falling. "You think so? I don't suppose Pearenth can guess at when? If so, we might still be able to go in and get the good seats…"

Not too long later, Finn reappears with a handful of meatrolls. He holds the bounty out at the messenger, "Take your pick," there are several different kinds of meat. "I'm not even sure what they all are," he shrugs, turning to present them to the younger man, "Rider?" Their selections made or declined, he tucks into his choices, "Di' you fay," he chews and swallows, "Did you say you think the hatch'll be today? Care to wager when?" He wipes the flaky crumbs from his scruff with the back of a wrist and glances first at Veresch then, with intent, at T'line.

The thud against the shoulder gets a laugh from the rider as he continues stretching. In regards to her question, he hrms. "Well.. I've been asking him all day and he's been quite vague about it." T'line rolls his eyes. "I can never get a straight answer out of him about things like this." Arms fall back down to his sides, steadying himself on the low wall as he watches Finn return with meatrolls. "Thanks." he says as he grabs a random meatroll. Biting into his own, he nods in reply to Finn. "I think. Pearenth is being vague. Dragons can only tell that it'll be soon, just not when." He chews thoughtfully, glancing around as he thinks. "Knowing the dragons, it'll be in the middle of the night." He comments finally.

Veresch pulls a face, though that disappears rather quickly when the meatrolls show up. "Thanks!" she says enthusiastically to Finn, bestowing a wide grin on him before taking one with less dispatch than T'line. "I'll owe you one, Trader." The roll is used to gesture to the two of them. "T'line, brown Pearenth's, and I'm Veresch. You look … somewhat familiar?" Parts of his features do, in any case. "I'm sure they actually know, and they're just teasing us because they know we're excited," she mutters darkly, taking a solid bite. "I've made my bets already though — hopefully I win a bundle."

Finn nods and shakes his head alternately, "Don't mention it, either of you." He grins at Veresch, "You look like you could use it and you," a look at the Rider, "You…" he shrugs, dismissive, a watery smile, "Thanks." Finn listens carefully to the younger man's description of his dragon's un-fortcoming-ness. He grins, eyes alight at Veresch, shaking his head vaguely, So amazing. It's amaazing, right? and then turns eyes back to T'line. Holding fingers up flat to the sun, Finn measures the time to sunset in hands. Squinting, he calculates and clears his throat. "All right, I estimate there are," eh… "Six candlemarks to midnight." He cants his head at Veresch and nods in appreciation of the introduction, "Finn, of the Reika. Well met, brownrider," he looks with raised eyebrows at Veresch, "And you?" her name? He adds, "Ah, but did you bet on when?" He finishes his meatroll and tucks the remainder away for later. Then fishes a handful of colored glass marbles out of his pouch, holding one up and peering through it at each of them in turn. "Take one each of red, gray and white," he nods, holding a handful out, there are more than enough. "Then… if you think it'll be in the next two hours, red. Two hours after that, gray. Two hours after that, white. Follow?" If they make their selections, he tucks away the excess, then peers into his hand and makes a selection, holding his hand out in a loose fist, back of his hand facing upwards. If they don't he waits patiently, eyes aglow.

"What about me?" T'line prompts as the Trader lets his sentence drift off without finishing. It makes him curious now. Veresch's dark mutter doesn't escape his ears and he lets out another hearty laugh. "I honestly would't put it past them." he says, taking another bite of his meatroll. At the introduction, T'line ahs. "Right… where are my manners… well met, Finn." The young rider nods. He finishes off his roll just as the trader fishes out the marbles, explaining what their purpose is. "Hmm…" Nimble hands pluck the marbles out of Finn's hand and considered. There's a look toward Veresch as they wait for her.

The name is familiar, if not the face. "Onari's big brother Finn?" Veresch questions as she reaches out for a glass pebble. For a moment her hand conceals the colour: when she reveals it, it glimmers as white as moonlight in the palm of her hand, milky-pale and pretty. "I'm guessing … five candlemarks," she finally says, smiling up to the both of them. A grown grows, and the pebble dances between her fingertips - back and forth, back and forth, as desxtrously as a Zingari knife dancer.

Finn's lips press flat, a brief serious expression, "For fighting," he gestures at the sky with a brief flare of fingers. Then he turns a curious and surprised look on Versech, "The very same. How do you know my sister?" He grins at Veresch's revelation and at the deft dance and roll of the milky opalescent globe across her fingers. "And you, T'line, brown Pearenth's, what did you choose?" He has not yet revealed his choice.

A small curve of T'line's lips is all Finn receives in response. Not quite a full smile. A glance from messenger to Trader at their exchange, not sure of whom they were speaking of until he is spoken to once more. In response, the rider opens his fist to reveal a white marble. There's a wink at Veresch. "6 candlemarks."

Finn nods, sagely. He grins, tugged crooked by a canny look. He flips his hand, opening fingers with a flourish to reaveal. Nothing. "I don't think it'll happen today." He backs away a step and holds up a forestalling hand, "Keep the marbles, tokens of my esteem. If I'm right, you each owe me a favor. If I'm wrong, you know where to find me." And with that, the trader disappears into the milling crowd of folks headed deeper into the bazaar.

Veresch tongue-clicks, thumps T'line on the shoulder again. "Copy-cat," she accuses fondly as she slides off her perch. Standing, she's much shorter than the two, but that doesn't lessen the impact of her gaze on Finn. "I deliver messages to the caravan sometimes, so I see her." An easy enough explanation, and one that earns him a nose-wrinkle. "A favour?" Her lips twitch with laughter as he vanishes, and she turns to T'line. "Dinner?" Idly asked, now that they've spoiled theirs.