Who

Ramita, Nasrin

What

Some weeks after Ramita's wedding, Nasrin finally gets her cousin a gift. It's okay, she wasn't invited.

;-)

When

It is evening of the nineteenth day of the twelfth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Menagerie

OOC Date 09 May 2019 04:00

 

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"Nothing brings out family quite like a legally binding ceremony."


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Menagerie

The labyrinth of square geometry was once a familial compound purchased by the Steens and reinvented to display animals of a different kind. A 10-foot high wall of neat stone and adobe encloses the menagerie's total property and in front, a trefoil arch with a gate leads the way into a small courtyard improved by several rock gardens and succulents, some many meters tall. Beyond brilliant alabaster pillars are quarters for a variety of animals: a pair of giant white cattle on loan from Igen Hold's closed herd, whersports from southern jungles, a dynasty of desert-dwelling snakes, and in a well-shaded enclosure heaped with boulders: a young watchwher still growing into his wing stubs.

In the northeast corner stretches many desert willows and a freshwater pool 3-feet deep at its margins, stocked with a breeding colony of pinioned waterfowl, striped and vivid-colored, once called mandarins.

Many benches are placed for strategic loitering, though a full troupe of firelizards with the run of the place monitor for wrongdoings and safety of the animals. The newness of the menagerie and several empty quads tell of more animals to come.


Sometimes it's exhausting having to smile and nod while being showered in congratulations. You know who doesn't give a quack what might be going on in anybody's life? Ramita at least is pretty sure it's the waterfowl as she's managed to slip away from the crowd of extended relatives for a moment with a small bag of seed. She lets out a small sigh as she settles into that well familiar bench near the pond. For now the bag is left unopened and the ducks seem to be ignoring everything outside of the water.

Look out, Ramita, here comes even more family to mob you with praises. Or so it seems as Nasrin ascends a triad of stairs and ducks under one of the desert willows. As a hand glides against the trunk, "just so we're clear, Tomas gives great directions," naming the humble young man working in Ramita's shop. Nasrin tugs on the end of her cloak's hood and in its mulberry glory, she approaches the bench with something in hand. "He said I'd either find you here or around the cistern and the latter is clogged by a street performance. I heard about the wedding…" the comment the dragonrider leaves open ended to better judge Ramita's reaction to it.

For a second it looks like Ramita might be about to flee as someone starts speaking, but upon realizing that the voice is a familiar and not entirely unwelcomed one, she settles back down with a sigh. "I guess that's my fault for hiring only competent people. Maybe I should look for one that I can put on duty just to confound my mother, eh?" She waves a hand to the other side of the bench. Plenty of room for two and it's even all in the shade too. As for the recent nuptials, the reaction is a neutral enough nod. "Indeed. Apparently just a quick meeting with the harper wouldn't do…"

"Your snack or theirs?" Nasrin queries at the bag of unopened feed, trying not to dislodge it by sitting adjacent with the slow ease of one of the waterfowl on land. "Mmmm, someone who forgets minor details can't be all bad, right?" Nasrin's safe smile is short as she recognizes what's in her hand. "Oh!" Her hips and overall posture spin toward her cousin. "This is for you, it's a belated gift, though I didn't get Derren anything. I figured he was lucky enough in his choice of wife, what more could he possibly want." Within the parchment paper is a lilac colored cashmere scarf. "Five caprines worth, mind."

Ramita smiles as she gingerly opens the bag to reveal the seed inside. "There's. I don't want to be picking it out of my teeth for the next five hours." And a nod for that hiring idea. "Indeed. As long as their the right details that are forgotten." not the important ones like how much of a particular bottle a junior weyrwoman might want to order. Those details should always be remembered. Her eyes widen at the mention of a gift and as it's passed over. "You shouldn't ha…" But she can't help peek in the paper as it's passed over. "I think it might be worth more just for not being scarlet." Her wardrobe is rather limited.

"…over two winters to collect and make. I for sure didn't weave it but I guess you could say I have a little connection to it. Remember the caprines I had in the stables when you were mooning over journeyman Tzajal?" You know, that herder. The weyrwoman looks coy. "They did indeed get relocated and have joined the herds near Angaste Peak and this is some of their yield. And you will wear it beautifully." Nasrin and her goat saga continue. Always an eager gift-giver, she starts to fidget with her fingers, then involves her hands. "So, was there a lot of family there?" She tries to play it arctic cool but wants to hear of her kin.

Ramita doesn't have any pearls to clutch, but she will raise a hand in mock-offense just the same. "Cousin. Surely you know my interest in the good journeyman was dealing with my runner?" There may have also been an exchange of marks as Sandy makes a good broodmare indeed. Better than her owner. The scarf package is smoothed out and set down in her lap. "Thank you. It really is a kind gift. And yes, as always. Nothing brings out family quite like a legally binding ceremony."

"I know," Nasrin plays that game with a semi-winning hand, smoky-blue eyes shining. "And I remember it as the day I wish I had a runner. But all jesting aside," she looks around to see if that comment may have caught the wrong ear. It didn't. The ducks, as earlier mentioned, don't give a quack. "Was my brother th—" she can't quite complete the question when two of the menagerie workers, Steens both, point at their bench. They've been spotted.

Ramita doesn't need to say actual words as those workers pass by. The not-so-subtly raised eyebrow should be all the response needed there. "Perhaps next time he's making rounds they can extend to the Weyr as well? I hear there's a weyrwoman with a bunch of caprines that could need some assistance…." And it's about time that she start feeding the ducks, which she does. There's a very prompt response of a chorus of quacks as they come for the sprinkling of seed. "Your brother? There weren't any riders in attendance…" Surprise, surprise there. "But I did believe I saw your mother. Briefly. And her youngest." And there is another Steen rapidly approaching, one of the veiled variety. "And apologies. But unless you want to catch up with my mother, I must be going." She'll spare Nasrin that particular reunion, although the birdseed is left behind. That scarf package is carefully clasped though. It'll be appropriately treasured.

"Dragons are flock animals…" Nasrin connects the dots to Tzajal's abilities while exploring the nature of that point. In due time it's apparent Ramita's mother is on her way. Just as she's getting news about Aleor, the brother kept from her since he was a toddler, more is not to be. At nine Turns old, time has cruelly elapsed. So close. Nasrin nods curtly and gets to her feet, watching the spray of seed hit the water and spread apart the pond's surface tension. "Someday I would love to see your shop." Which is a hasty retreat, the junior glaring at the two workers heated enough to want to catch their sleeves on fire. She steals a look to her aunt, makes a spectre of a smile, and takes a peek at the resident feline down a different corridor.

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