Who

R'mar, Magdaline, Divale, Daenerys

What

Evening time strolls seem to lead several folks up to the Standing Stones for whatever reasons. And because this is Igen, mandatory goats do appear.

When

It is evening of the thirteenth day of the second month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass

Where

Igen Weyr - Standing Stones

OOC Date 01 Feb 2018 06:00

 

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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.

It is the forty-third day of Winter and 34 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


Sitting on one of the lower stone formations, R'mar strokes the red stubble on his chin softly, staring blankly towards one of the larger formations. His gold flit is curled tightly around his neck as he sits in the cool air of the desert "winter" in nothing more than a light, short sleeved shirt and light pants. As the gold shivers once again, R'mar absently reaches up to pet her. "It's not that cold out here dear heart." he murmers softly to her and is rewarded with nothing more than a stern, quick chittering, beforre the gold tightens around the rider to soak up his warmth.

While professionally speaking, caring for the health and well being of all the Weyr's residents falls in the realm of Magdaline's duties (and those of the rest of Cremla's staff), she could probably have delegated this particular duty to someone else. And yet, the woman is traipsing out to the standing stones in shoes that aren't the most practical for climbing, with a bucket of oats in her hand. "Malana? Malana… I don't think these are going to want to be a pet… We can get you a different goat…" But Malana is nowhere to be seen at the moment. Darn children being nearly as nimble as those fleet footed feral caprines that call the Standing Stones home.

There better not be goats near the Standing Stones or loose at the moment! Lukoith is lurking about somewhere and we all know what happened to Billy… and that poor handler's draft runner. It is not often that duty brings one of Parhelion's Wingseconds out this way, but here Divale treads none the less. She is dressed in her gear, though is lacking the marker on her wrist that would indicate she's actively patrolling. None of her fair of firelizards are about her, though it's not to say they aren't roosted somewhere as her 'eyes' when necessary. "Another escapee?" Divale intones dryly to Magdaline, along with a subtle but respectful salute to the woman. R'mar is given a sidelong look and a shadowed smirk. "Are you not chilled?" she calls out.

And second Billy. Courtesy of "Lukoith".

Wait, what? Goats and firelizards and people, oh my! Just when Daenerys thought he might climb the heights and escape the old busybodies who ask him imperinent questions he finds himself on the Stones, surrounded by people, perhaps all ready to escape the usual antics of the Weyr. He's wrapped in his usual quilted jacket and a pair of leathers, leaving only his face clear; his long hair's tucked down in his collar, all the better to prevent the stuff from flying about like seaweed in the sea's current. He'll stop just outside the little group, taking the time to study them all with deep curiosity.

The sound of voices stirs the brownrider from his quiet contemplation. Well, so much for his scheduled alone time. He turns his head as Narcissa chitters again and takes off, blinking between quickly, back to the warmth of the weyr more than likely. "Chilled? Shards no. It's a beautiful day out here." He smirks at the wingsecond and winks. Looking at the Assisstant Headwoman he stands and bows slightly. "Anything I can help you with Magdaline?"

Magdaline makes a quick glance over her shoulder. And then the other one. Child still not clearly in sight? The little blue firelizard that was wrapped around her neck is quickly disturbed and sent off on a quick recognizance mission. As for that offer of assistance… it doesn't take more than a second or two before Magdaline is handing out the bucket of oats towards R'mar with a smile. "If you see any goats, you could feed them. I hear winter isn't a good season for the beasties." Or any season given the way the dragons like to make random snacks of unsuspecting wildlife, stringy as they might be. She just gives a little bit of a shrug to Divale, still smiling slightly. "Escaped, but not for long. I'm sure I'll see her around dinner time at the latest."

"I suppose it's an improvement from the summer's heat," Divale muses in her own lowered tone to R'mar, that same smirk still in place for the wink given by the older brownrider. "Nothing grows, however, in this cold." Which is a deal breaker for her — and the goats, apparently. "Odd that they struggle. The wild caprines in High Reaches seem to fare well enough… or perhaps the few I hunted weren't so bad." A shrug is given to that and her attention drifts back to Magdaline. Daenerys remains unnoticed for the time being, save for the nagging sense of being 'watched'. "She's known to vanish for a spell of time? Always?"

R'mar begins to stammer a protest at the bucket being shoved into his hands. But arguing with the women of the caverns has never turned out well in his favor, so he sheepishly nods and, when no one is looking, sets the bucket down on the stone he had been seated on. "I wouldn't call this winter. Remember, High Reaches is home for Jerelloth and I both. This is warm for what we are used to up north."

Daenerys will finally come on out, having made up his mind that the trio will likely not object to another; indeed, he will even offer up polite greetings to them all, according to their knots: Wingsecond, Wingrider, assistant Headwoman. All that out of the way, the young trader will take up a good viewing spot from which he can survey the entirety of Igen's Bowl, watching the tiny pinprics of people moving about, the circling of dragons, whatever — but then the snatches of conversation really sink in again. "What's up with the kid and the goats?" And he's going to ignore the possibility of it being even colder, save to eye R'mar more closely, brows knitting in consernation. Whyfor you tellin' us it gets worse, mahn?

The assistant headwoman gives a bit of an eyeroll and a dismissive wave of that well manicured hand. "There's vanishing and there's vanishing. She hasn't found a spot yet where a firelizard can't find her." And since Magdaline can at least confirm her child isn't in mortal danger and isn't up to general hoodlum-ism, she'll give the young girl some space. She'll take a seat on a boulder of her own, and start peering at the sole of her shoe, searching for some annoying pebble or another that wormed its way in. "And I'm not sure how much they actually struggle. My source on that was a ten turn old girl." Grain of salt, people.

Divale relents on questioning Magdaline's confidence in the girl's habits, yielding to experience and knowledge beyond her own. Daenerys' arrival earns him a studious but detached look from the Wingsecond; she's merely noting him and certain traits for later catergorizing. "Not too much of interest," she murmurs on the account of the girl and the goats. "Just some idle pondering on the inter habits of caprines." Not the oddest evening Divale has had! There's a dry, dry chuckle from her as she turns her focus back to R'mar. "I'm afraid I've lived under rock for sometime. Seasons were not of a concern to me." Not the full truth; her stint in the Underground prior to its discovery was only a brief set of Turns but she will not freely reveal her true home.

The gold flit, previously attached to the brownrider's neck, reappears and begins her berating chittering once more, though this time she turns her head to direct the chittering to each of those present, save Daenerys. When the gold looks his way, the chittering stops suddenly and she lands on R'mar's shoulder, cocking her head quizzically at the trader. R'mar settles back onto his previous seat, absently forgetting about the bucket of oats. That is, almost forgetting about it, because he suddenly remember it as he plants his rear end on the edge of the bucket, spilling the oats all about the stone. "Shard it." the rider mutters as he stands quickly, attempting to gather up the spilled oats. The oats however, seem to have summoned the caprines in the area from between as where there were none, now a handful of the beasts appear, pushing through to the free food. Giving up on saving the oats, R'mar turns and shakes his head. "They survive because they know where the food is at all times." he explains as he gestures to the creatures.

Daenerys smirks a little, at the very idea of debate on caprines and kids — "Aren't they the same breed?" Stubborn, capricious beasts, wont to do the exact opposite of what they're told, apt to bleat on and on about the most ridiculous things, like being forced to go where they would rather not. Case in point: Magdeline's young daughter. Obviously there's little to be concerned about on that score as yet. And then by magic — the summoning power of food — the goats begin to trickle in, and Daenerys watches them with the wry amusement of one who has seen this phenomenon before. R'mar gets another glance, and a gentle chuckle. "Like any creature with good sense. Well — " he corrects himself. " — not if one wishes to refrain from getting caught."

Magdaline wrinkles her nose up a bit as she sees that pending 'disaster' with the oat bucket but is too far away to actually stop it. A hand is uselessly held out right about the time as R'mar is tipping it all over. She winces a bit, but only slightly and because of turns of habit about being concerned about where things might fall. She does shrug it off though. "Well, that's one way to go about feeding the caprines…" She might be slightly amused at the speed with which they appear as soon as the food is about. "Though why they didn't appear when I first showed up with the bucket instead of having to actually spill it…" She shakes her head. Children she might be able to understand, but goats?

Divale will see the impending disaster about to happen but, being a creature cut from different cloth, she'll do nothing to stop what is inevitable. It leads to a positive outcome, anyhow! Though the Wingsecond barely smiles, there is a shadowed humour about her. Until one of the goats ventures too close and she'll make a disapproving warding gesture with a hand. Leave off! "Given how readily these one's come for the hope of food, they're not so wary as a true wild animal. Should they not be in pens?" she asks to all three. There is a smirk for Daenerys' comparison. "I'd not say all?" she muses.

R'mar swats at one of the creatures as well, as it begins to nibble a little too close to home, it's nose seeking out oats stuck to his trousers. "If they could be rounded up. Or kept. Have you seen how easily these move up and down the rocks? And they jump as easy as anything too." He moves away from the growing herd of goats, abandoning his seat.

Yeah good luck getting those canny bastards into a pen; Daenerys is most certainly not going to help, in the same way he didn't bother to try and help R'mar keep the bucket from spilling. Nope, not his job, he's not even a Weyr resident anymore, having run away with the circus so to speak. "Hmm, that much is true. Is this the group that last batch of Candidates raised?" Yeah, he's gonna blame it all on them. Nobody here is from that group, so he can do that. As the influx thickens, he wrinkles his nose, peeling himself off his rock to edge closer to the escape route. Goatpacalypse Now! And then he offers a smirk in return for Divale's smirk: "Hmm, I'll take your word for it" This Trader does not deal with kids of any variety.

"I think that this might all be the healers fault…" Magdaline muses as she finally manages to get that pesky pebble out from the bottom of her shoe and flicks it away. "But they don't look to be glowing now." She's going to blame all this on Baezyl and even if it wasn't his fault, he probably did something that desrves at least a little bit of blame. "And yes… keeping goats that don't want to be in pens contained is a bit of a challenge. At least we have some dragons about that will probably help keep the wild goats down." And she's just going to look at a certain wingsecond over there. She knows who she is.

"The Healers began their trials on herd animals some time ago," Divale mutters half as an aside to Magdaline. How did she manage to fall behind on the progress (or gossiped word). Oh, right. She's been busy chasing down the idiots who've been selling the counterfeit blue glow and the idiot teens eating the damn stuff! A low sigh from the Wingsecond, while she hisses under her breath at another curious goat. At that hint from the Headwoman, Divale meets her gaze directly and that neutral, grim smirk turns to something a wee bit more feral. To be sure, there will be at least a good number of goats missing over the next few days. "I've little knowledge on keeping caprines," she admits belatedly to R'mar, as her features reset. "Ask me of guard canines, however…"

Billy 2 Shall Be Mourned!
And Billy 3 and Billy 4….
Every Single Billy Goat Gruff.

Well, now: time's getting on, and Daenerys has much to do within the Trader camp — and how fortunate he is that the creatures don't venture there. He'll start down the steps, bumping those pesky creatures out of the way with a curl of the lip. Ew, who keeps these things alive, and why hasn't Lukioth munched on more of them? With a wave and a, "Good luck with your… project… folks." He's gone, and well before one of them can come up with the idea that Daenerys should get his pretty little hands dirty playing with the creatures.

Oats gone, child gone, pesky pebble gone. Now it's time for Magdaline to be gone herself. The assistant headwoman rises to her feet, wiping some of the dust from her hands. "Just make sure you see the bucket back to the kitchens, please, rider?" And with that, and a nod for anyone remaining, she'll see herself out and back to the weyr proper where she belongs. And hopefully to round up a child or two of her own to make sure they don't get too far out of hand either.

"This is not my project," Divale smirks as Daenerys departs and as Magdaline goes to make her leave as well, the Wingsecond dips her head respectfully to her and R'mar both. "I've idled long enough myself. Best I return to my tasks before the day is fully done." Farewells are often left to few words and the brownrider does not linger. She will turn and venture down another path, her business her own as she disappears among lengthening shadows and into the heart of the Weyr itself; a good guess would be she's on route to the heart of the Bazaar.

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