Who

Majel, T'line

What

T'line relaxes by the lake shore and an inquisitive Majel comes along.

When

It is sunset of the thirteenth day of the fifth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Lake Shore

OOC Date

 

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Lake Shore

Sprawled out beyond the Weyr proper's hustling activity and ambling roads, the cool, blue paradise of the Weyr lake promises escape from the oppressive hammer of Igen summer's cruel climes; the asymmetrical, sandy white shores hook delicately around the deceptively still waters running deep and sure, greedy peninsulas reaching white fingers stretching in crooked lines towards its center. A sturdy shack, weather-beaten and brown as cured leather, resides in isolated splendor upon one such finger, screened shelving offering a variety of brushes and fragrant oils housed in colorful tureens. Out beyond a small and dusty paddock ringed by a white fence, a long rocky pier stabs out into the lake, providing a panoramic view of the Weyr itself, while the southern shores provide varied shrubs and grassed for the massed herds in their pens.


After a long day, T'line and Pearenth have decided to make a pit stop at the lake shores where the large brown is more than happy to take a dip. The brownrider is crouched near the edge of the shore, letting the water lap over his mud-covered boots as the dragon weaves in and out of the water. "Your scrubbing isn't due til tomorrow, y'hear? I'm dead tired tonight and I'm not making any acceptions." The lad calls out to his dragon from where he crouches, a grin on his lips. Whatever the dragon's reply is, it causes his rider to laugh, scooping up a handful of water to wash his face. Just a rider and his dragon relaxing, per usual. Not an uncommon sight, to be sure.

The golden hour just before the sunset hits in earnest leaves everything gilded in warm gold. Curfew for the candidates isn't too far off, but at least one of their number seems intent on spending her free time out of doors; Majel's taken to visiting the lake often in the past seven or two as the weather has warmed, commonly seen walking along the shore just before or after the dinner hour. Her routine varies little today, steady steps skirting around the occasional rider-dragon pair who are bathing or cavorting in the water. Feet angled toward the weyr proper, she makes to keep her trajectory wide around T'line and Pearenth, but slows slightly to observe them for a moment. Prineline's son. His brown. Should he glance her way, her salute is clean and correct, as is her even, "Good evening, sir."

After wearing himself out, Pearenth goes to just floating atop the lake, his wings spread out and keeping him afloat. No room for other dragons around him, that's for sure. T'line chucks a rock near his feet towards the brown, and the dragon ignores his rider. There's a laugh from T'line even as he stands up, stretching out his arms and legs. He observes his surroundings, watchings as other riders fly overhead as they finish their rounds. His eyes eventually land on the strolling Candidate, apparent from her white knot. There's a nod and a grin at her salute and greeting. "Evening, Candidate." he replies, giving her a quick look over before turning to look out over at the lake. "Great evening, isn't it?" he comments, stretching his arms out in front of him.

"It is an evening much like any other, " Majel says dryly, completely ignoring the once-over, "but the sunset is quite pleasing." There's an expectant pause that she allows to lapse before continuing. "Or is there something in particular that makes this one great, as you say?" Her expression softens a little as she glances to Pearenth, all a'float in the lake. Oh, to be carefree.

The dryness in Majel's voice does not effect T'line's good mood at all. But little ever does. "Oh yes, the sunset is quite a sight." He agrees amiably, eyes glancing up at the red-orange sky. Her question causes him to quirk his head inquisitively, "No, not particularly, I suppose. Just another great evening after a long day, finally being able to relax." he replies easily. "Ah, where are my manners. I'm T'line and this is Pearenth." There's a chin lift in the brown's direction, who pays no heed to the humans on the shore.

Majel's, "I see, " is all politeness. "I'm Majel. And you're the headwoman's T'line." It's a statement, not a question, which she follows up with a long look. There's nothing of the checking-out variety present here, for her expression and manner are as one cataloguing the attributes of a new type of fabric. "You were doing this not so long ago, " she adds with a careful pluck to her knot. Also a matter-of-fact statement. Her next, however, is anything but: "Was it something you wanted? Or did it - everything - " He? " - just happen?"

"Well met, Majel." T'line grins over at her with a nod at her statement. "And so I am." The young rider is all ease and comfort here. He stares out at the lake, watching as Pearenth decides to take one last dip before flying out of the water and making his way to the shore, a little ways away from the two so as not to get them wet. When she speaks again, he looks over to see her pluck at her knot. Her question makes him cock his head. "Hmm… Not particularly, no. It took up the offer to Stand and ended up Impressing. I was satisfied with the way things were, but he made it better." The rider smiles fondly in the direction of his dragon, who now rests on the sandy shore, his swirling eyes watching them.

Majel is attentive, certainly, but it must be said that she frowns thoughtfully, expression neatly closing off again not long after. "I apologize if it was too personal of a question. I don't ordinarily give it so much thought, but, " and she shrugs, allowing her circumstances to fill in the words left unsaid. "Thank you for your insight, sir." There's a glance behind her for the horizon, then: "I probably should head back." And she moves to do just that, snapping off another salute for a proper farewell.

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