Afternoon is linger over Igen, the heat outside is not getting better and sand is still /everywhere/ making things all sandy and most certainly people are trying not to breath it in when walking outside among it. Jaelynn has picked up her chores for the day that involve helping keep the caverns picked up, clean, and to battle the 'sand' monster known as the wind as it always blows in a lot of sand. With a brown in hand the Healer apprentice turned Candidate is busy sweeping up a bunch of sand into a pile so she can dispose of it.

Sand, sand everywhere. Over there, over here, and still upon the shoes that scuff beneath the pink sari Taryn wears. She's thus adding to Jaelynn's work, seemingly oblivious, as she traipses towards a nearby empty chair. The blonde isn't the most common sight within the Weyr proper, but then it looks like she's a recent arrival from the indecently hot outdoors. The light fabric clings a little here and there. Squiggles of hair plaster at her temples, escapees from decorative hair pins. It all adds up to her focus on crumpling into the seat and taking a long gulp of water from her glass. Only after do storm-blue eyes rove to take in the candidate's work. Did she just walk right through the newly gathered pile of sand? "Sorry," is half a question and given with a little wince of brows.

Jaelynn peeks up curiously a the voice, a smile given before she is left nodding. "Oh, don't worry about it. Just some more sweeping and it'll be taken care of." This said with a happy tone even though it does leave her more work. The well unpiled sand is given a slight look before she is back to sweeping it up. "It did get really hot outside didn't it?" Have to love summery weather!

The steady watch of darker blue eyes folds into an easily replying smile when that peek is met. "Oh good," Taryn is near-chirpy in return. She wriggles a little more fully onto her chair so that there's better leverage for swinging out her feet. She also plucks a little at the wrap of her garment from its cling against sweat-damp skin. "It's awful," the blonde agrees with flat dislike of said weather. "At least the sand isn't flying sideways today," is served with a twist of rueful humor upon her lips. "You haven't had to be out in it, have you?" She takes another sip, but leaves her attention upon Jaelynn cocked in idle curiosity.

Jaelynn smiles and nods while she is busy sweeping up that sand back into a pile, and then over to a corner so it is out of the way. "Not yet at least." She shakes with a shake of her head while she glances over to Taryn with a smile seen. "I've been told he falls and is blown in all sort of ways, up down, over in.." Is that possible? Sure it is!

Sure, it's possible, and it's probably what settles that deeper smirk upon Taryn's features. She settles herself into a more proper posture, letting the hands wrapped about her sweating glass rest in her lap. "That's the truth of it." Fingers lift, the run of one nail diverting strands of hair back from her temple before rearranging the drape of her headscarf-covered braid so it's off her neck and over her shoulder. "You're a new arrival here? I'm Taryn. I work at the Pit." Her introduction is given with a brighter flash of smile.

Jaelynn smiles and nods to the bit on being new. "Yep! I've been here for a few days now actually." This said with a soft tone while she brushes off her hands. At the comment of where the other works she peeks over looking curious. "What is the Pit?" Perhaps she knows and just doesn't know what that nickname is for it. "I'm Jaelynn, nice to meet you Taryn."

"Days?" Very new. Up go the blonde's brows. "Well. It's nice to meet you, too, Jaelynn." Her braid slides off her shoulder again as she gives a bouncy little nod. As for the pit, her breath pulls in and her smile goes uneven as she looks into her glass. Sip first. "The fighting pit. The one with the men in it. Not the snakes." The twist of smile is still high at one edge of Taryn's mouth, but perhaps a touch of weariness shows about her eyes as they dodge to take in the caverns and the sand-speckled denizens. "Where did you come from, Jaelynn?" she questions as her attention wanders back.

Jaelynn smiles and nods while looking to Taryn at the talk of the pit. "Why would someone want to fight in a pit? Do you fight in the pit?" This questioned with a curious tone at the idea. "I'm from Red Butte, Seinor Healer Apprentice." There is a pause before she points at the white knot. "Well until the other day I suppose."

Taryn's head shakes as the start of her answer. "Different reasons," her rippled shrug supposes of the men who fight. "I'm a Healer." Which, given the younger girl's former knot, is relayed with a more broadly flashed smile. But her eyes are drawn to that new twist of white. "Ah - congratulations." Her brows shift as the blonde casts a gaze to check on the not-so-close neighbors while she leans a little closer. "It's nice to see them continuing to allow girls on the sands," seems the kind of thing to confide rather then broacast. Her smile may be quieter, but it has a true enough curve. "Though to have your apprentice's knot… You must be," she waggles her fingers as she gropes for a word, "a clever sort." If it's a bit awkward, perhaps a brighter smile can recover her meaning.

Jaelynn ahs and smiles before nodding while she shifts to take over a seat next to Taryn. "Really? That's great! I haven't had a chance to speak to too many other healers since being here." She really is a bubbly happy little thing isn't she? She smiles and nods before peering to Taryn at the bit on the Weyr allowing girls on the sands. "Well, I was a bit confused over that myself. I was told that it wasn't a common thing. Especially if there wasn't a possible gold and all." She lifts a hand to push back her hair from her face, a curious look offered back to Taryn and she smiles. "I had to work really hard at it honestly. It isn't the easiest thing to get a hold of I suppose you know?"

Taryn stretches back into a straighter posture as the other girl comes to join her, twisting a little to find a bit of table to set her glass on. She'll lean her elbow against it, too, as she takes part in the girly bubbles. "Oldtimer influence," the blonde will chalk it up to. "I know," she falls into easy accord with Jaelynn. "It must be a hard decision to, you know, switch knots." Sympathy, curiosity - these are the things that tug her features into this and that microexpression. "Rhiscorath's rider did it," is a sudden bright recollection. So there's good company?

Jaelynn nods slightly at the comment on the oldtimer influence. "That's what I was told too honestly. Though I didn't think I would actually get asked to try and give it a chance." She scratches at her neck a few moments at the thought. She glances to Taryn, a soft smile and she soon nods. "Yeah, it was hard.. But if it doesn't work out I still get it back. So sort of a win-win in a sense I suppose." She tilts her head while peering over at Taryn curiously. "Who's Rhiscorath's rider, and what did the go about switching knots for?"

"A happy surprise," Taryn assumes after a tilt of her head better takes in the younger girl's reaction. The girls sit alone at a table where a mostly empty water glass stands in its puddle of sweat. The floor at their feet has neatly cleared of sand by the candidate's broom. "I guess so," a win-win, though the blonde is rushing on to spread a wider grin at the question that follows. "You have only been here a few days," is lilt wondering, like she's reminding herself. "Her rider is weyrwoman Mayte. Rhiscorath is the gold on the sands. A candidate's knot, a goldrider's knot…" Her shrug-and-smile may suggest no further insight on the reasoning.

The Weyr is growing thick with candidates- at least for those who have difficulty counting beyond the fingers of one hand. Look, here's another! Safid has spent the last day and a half weighted down with hides, and executive orders being what they are, he is glad for it. It beats sweeping hearths and peeling tubers, neh? Not that he'd mind that either but here we are: the young man arrives in search of a flat surface suitable to spreading out, on which he may bestow the load of scraped hide that curls over one arm. In his other hand, an inkwell with niches for ink, for quills, for a tiny knife to sharpen the quills' points and a broader blade for hide scraping. In short, he comes prepared and all he lacks is a table and chair. With that lovely mask of a face set in impassive lines, he surveys his options before angling for the table occupied by two females- opting to co-opt their seating arrangement rather than risk the more fickle tempers of riders. "Ladies," he rumbles. The hides are set down, the inkwell, and only then- after a solemn but rather courtly nod- does he ask, "May I?"

Jaelynn does know who Rhiscorath is at least, she just wasn't sure about the name of the gold's rider. Or she didn't pay attention to the name perhaps is more like it seeing how she has asked so many questions as of late. She looks curiously to Taryn a slight nod seen as she ponders the thought. "I guess Things can change rather quickly for such things like knots at a weyr then." Especially when eggs are on the sands. The new voice catches her attention and a smile is sent to the new person. "Hello, sure join away." She offers with a happy tone. She to wears a white candidate knot, see two in the same place even!

"Oh yes." There's perhaps some extra depth to Taryn's voice as she nods to Jaelynn's observation. It's to be found, too, in the knowing smile that shapes about her drifting eyes. "Change." Perhaps she intended to let that concept stand on its own, all along. In any case, her thoughts are surely distracted when the pretty man's approach catches at the corner of her eyes. She does, it's perhaps worth noting, manage to spare a glance for the hidework he carries. The curve of her mouth is contained in contrast to her tablemate's bubbles. "There's plenty of room," she makes her welcome with a hand gesture. The motion makes the tweak of her scarf-covered braid a more subtle thing as she again peels it from the back of her neck into a more open drape over her shoulder. "Are there a number of crafting candidates?" she wonders. From the hides, to Jaelynn, her query ends upward with Safid. "Harper?"

Permission is accepted with another nod, meant to serve as thanks while Safid settles himself. The hides are divided into two stacks, one plain and unadorned, the other covered with age-faded script. Then he fills his hands with sharp and pointy things, a quill to one and that tiny knife to the other. Slivers of grey and white are shaved from the writing implement and it would seem, at first, that he intends to ignore the women now that he's staked a claim to a portion of table. But the pressure of eyes on him draws the flick of an emerald glance for Taryn. A muscle tics in his jaw. "No." Well, that was abrupt. Again that quiver of muscle between chin and the hard jutting curve of his jaw. "The weyrwoman's gold eats hides. The Weyrsecond took issue. I'm charged to make copies." For the gold? The 'second? He doesn't say.

Jaelynn is quiet for a few moments as her mind wanders over certain things, mostly the thought of change. She wonders if she will be able to continue to be a healer afterwards, well if there is any afterwards that is. Perhaps nothing will change and she'll just be able to go back to what she was doing before. Her gaze flicks to the hides that are now grasping everyone attention and she ponders it seems along the same lines of Taryn on the matter. She leans against the table a moment, peeking at the hides. "So Are you making copies for the gold to eat then?" Well she'll just be the one to ask!

That was abrupt! And yet Taryn's blink is slow. Her expression doesn't really change until she turns back to Jaelynn. Her raise of brows is the sort of silent conversation that probably presumes more privacy than it really ought. Then again, those hides are a rather a perplexing, attention-drawing oddity. Her gaze slants back at them from beneath a dubious knit of eyebrows as Safid explains. She has sort-of the same question. "She eats records?" For surely dragons are expected to eat, you know, fresh hides. "That can't be healthy," is a judgey statement pitched mostly for the girl adjecent, though lound enough to be shared across the table.

They keep talking at him. He keeps hunkering over the hides, shaving his quill, and they just. Keep. Talking. Safid's expression, never inclined to lightness falls into craggy and dour lines. Perhaps this table was a mistake. But rather than cede ground, he relies on an old trick to serve in lieu of a proper answer: he grunts. Some might take that as a yes. Some a no. It is left to the listener to determine which- and usually people are content to have it so, making it a win-win for all concerned. The quill now coming to the sharpest of points, he uncaps the ink bottle and proceeds to dipping and blotting. Now is his chance to steer talk elsewards, an opportunity seized without qualm. "You one of us?" is asked of Taryn, accompanied with another pitch-and-emerald flick of lashes, of eyes. The glance sweeps on to Jaelynn next, to indicate the knot they share, before dropping to hides and the first penned lines. It's dry stuff, really. Records of scoring in some far off Turn.

Jaelynn lifts her head a touch while glancing to Safid and then to Taryn, a soft oh escapes her while she peeks for any white knot upon the other healer. "I don't think so." A smile is seen. "Yet though huh? Well I suppose if you want to go for it if someone asks with the power and so forth." This said with a slight wave of her hand before she is peeking back over to Safid as he gets about working on the hides in question. "I bet that's going to take a while huh?"

Kohl-rimmed stormclouds fixate a moment on the emerald flick. It's a beat later that Taryn's lips curve back into a muted smile. "No." Her voice isn't abrupt, but perhaps it is rather toying. The flutter of Jaelynn's hand finally breaks her gaze from the young man at his writing. The shape of her mouth warms somewhat, but in doing so it is left lopsided. "I think I'm old enough to be safe from dragons," the blonde gives kinder answer to the other girl. She takes a long breath to reposition herself, tugging at the pink sari as she crosses her shins to the side and plucks up her waterglass. Her little finger curves out as she sips from it, eyes watching between the two candidates over the rim.

The snort that Safid gives would stir the fronds of Safid's quill, if he wrote with a frilly girly girl bedecked with its original plumage. But no, this one is trimmed down sharply, all blunt edges and so that gust of breath has nothing to bother save his listeners' ears. "Just have to know who to ask," is said to mark some agreement with Jaelynn's remarks. For the girl's question he just shakes his head, his hand continuing on regardless of chatter- and all that fidgeting over there on the other side of the table, tiny movements that beg frequent glances but don't appear to do much to improve his mood. The look he finally spears Taryn with is narrow and accusing- she's fluttering a-purpose, isn't she? Fine. He'll bite. "What's a Bazaar chit doing in the Weyr proper?" he wonders.

Jaelynn offers a smile to Taryn, a slight nod of her head seen. "I see.. I suppose there is an age cut off for such things." Not that she knows honestly, this is still all way too new for her honestly. A glance is sent over to Safid then she peeks back to Taryn looking confused to what he calls her it seems. "What does that mean?" Yeah she needs to get out more it seems.

For her failures in connections and youth, Taryn merely has a lightly rolling lift of one shoulder. Her tongue dabs carefully at the the water left behind when she lowers her emptied glass. Safid's look of accusation catches her and she sticks, unflinching. Her features shift into a rather self-satisfied smirk. "It means he is as charming as one could hope for," is the answer given to Jaelynn despite how she never looks away from Safid. "I am a journeyman healer, candidate. You maybe noticed things falling, a little time ago?" An eyebrow arches over her cooled expression as her voice flattens. "It's put us a little off routine." But, that said, there will be more annoying movement - though this time it looks more like she's gathering the wrap of her skirts to stand.

"It means," he rumbles to Jaelynn's question, "that I spoke poorly." Boldly drawn features rearrange themselves in a scowl- it's the sort of reprimand that he must take, but Safid doesn't have to like it. He's fortunate to have hard won manners to fall back on, of the sort that were likely beaten into his head given his generally surly demeanor. "My apologies, madam. Stay." There he has the advantage, no skirts to foul legs or intentions. He's able to rise a beat more quickly than Taryn, the quill stabbed into the ink pot's center and the hides regathered to lay their heavy drape over his arm. He'll just be off to seek a table elsewhere, after a curt nod to the ladies who'd been kind enough to suffer his presence.

Jaelynn is quiet as she feels the tenses at the table turn rather quickly all of a sudden and she picks quietly at her nail a few moments as she feels a bit out of place it would seem at the moment. Her gaze drifts up to Taryn and then she looks over to Safid. No she will not be taking sides at the moment! "It was a misunderstanding, yes? Then everyone could stay perhaps?" As if seems everyone is leaving and then she'll be left on her own and have to talk to herself. Scary thought! Though she doesn't really push the matter into getting them to stay either.

There's a slightly swifter blink in reception of Safid's apology, though otherwise there's no crack in the healer's resolve. It doesn't take so terribly long for Taryn to gain her feet. She thus gets to watch the man's departure while standing. A moment passes before her head shifts to Jaelynn, braid falling across her shoulders. There's rue warping the smile that comes as the blonde sways back into a more relaxed pose. "Sorry." It's not quite an agreement to call it all misunderstandings, but almost. Anyway, her fingers float a touch towards Jaelynn's shoulder. "Nice meeting you, almost-craftmate. Us girls have to look out for each other around here, hm?" Beam goes the blonde's smile." I should go, though," she supposes. A little twist of her lips regrets the fact, but another shift of her weight starts her off in the direction of the caverns as she makes a waggle-fingered farewell. "See you around?"

Poor Jaelynn. Abandoned! Subject to social tension! Safid is disinclined to rescue her, however- someone might need to fill him in on the informal candidate code. He has committed to leaving the table and its occupants, and so he does, crossing to the other side of the cavern to find a less spacious place to spread out. But it has relative solitude going for it, so there's that?

Jaelynn curiously looks to Taryn and she offers her a warm smile before nodding. "Of course we do. Either way I'm going to stay in the craft somehow. So I'm sure we're be seeing one another again most certainly." While she is left on her own she moves then to get back to sweeping it seems. A wave is sent after Taryn with a smile before she goes back to sweeping up all that great wonderful sand!