Who

Veresch, Kyara, Freesia, A'dan

What

An early-morning hangover turns into a question about training, along with some unexpected side commentary.

When

It is the thirty-seventh day of Winter and 34 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.

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.


Morning comes cold upon Igen Weyr, a light wind adding to its bite. Pointedly attempting to ignore that nip in the air, however, is Kyara, who is up about and about not for drills, but for a run around the lake. Liareth is here as well, padding along beside her lifemate and occassionally - purposefully - attempting to block the greenrider's path with a tail, or a nose, or a foreleg. It's a much-used exercise, something the pair began in weyrlinghood to force Kyara to jump or dodge or change rhythm as she runs. From time to time, Liareth leaps up to execute a fancy little gliding maneuver or jump, seemingly at random, but really cued by her rider. Always a two-way street, their exercises! Suffice to say, the cold isnt' really bothering Kyara right now…but once that stop, that may become a different story fairly quickly.

Mornings in Igen Weyr can be nice, just not those in the winter. It makes Veresch long for the days she could still be snugabed, but no suck luck these days. She's trudging back from a message on the other side of the bowl as the greenrider makes her circuit around the lake, dressed up in a heavy jacket and wherhide pants against the nippy air. For a second, she looks tired and not too pleasantly-minded — she's having the first hangover of her life — but when she spots the duo she clears her throat, makes sure the jacket is where she wants it and starts running to catch up with them. She's gotten fitter over the weeks of running around with messages, but the sudden increase in pace from ambling to trotting is enough to make her puff with exertion when she finally pulls level with them. "Good morning to you, Kyara" she offers. "And to you, Liareth."

Sudden company! Kyara certainly wasn't expecting that, here and now. Veresch must have been matching the rhythm of the greenrider's own footsteps for Kyara not to have heard her approach. She's in the midst of having Lia set up another tail-obstacle for her to jump, which she aborts mostly mentally, as small, "Hup!" escaping her throat as Lia pulls up short with a surprised warble, slewing her head around to look at the new arrival for a moment. "Veresch! Hi!' the greenrider puffs, slowing to a stop and blinking at the girl. "Wasn't expecting to see you so early. What brings you out?" The breeze picks up momentarily, sending a frigid shock through the amber-eyed rider that triggers an instant shiver. Shards, where did she leave her jacket. Spying it a few lengths off on the shore, she gives her arms a brisk rub. "Uhm…do you mind follow a little more? I've got to grab my jacket or I'll freeze solid standing here."

Veresch wasn't even aware she was matching footsteps; she must be sneakier than she thought! She stops a goodly few paces away so as not to run into them, and winces .. oh, good, no. No tumble for Kyara. Must be quick on her feet too. Still, seeing the woman shiver she pulls off her jacket immediately and moves forward to hang it around the woman's shoulders against the wind, uncaring about any possible sweat. It's shortish on her, but at least she'll not freeze right that moment. "I'll go and fetch it. I'm sort of warm in any case." There she goes, picking up an appreciable turn of speed as her boots skitter over sand and pebbles, and she's back with the rider's own things in under a minute. "I didn't know you were going to be here. I thought I'd come and wash my face, see if that makes the headache go away." There's a look at Kyara for that — damn Chel and her fruity drinks anyway. "But now that I see you… I've wanted to ask a favour for some time now, if you have time to listen?"

There's a fair amount of surprise that forms on the greenrider's countenance when Veresch parts with her own jacket and sets it about Kyara's shoulders. Certainly, it doesn't exactly fit, the girl being a respectable sight smaller than her, but it does for the moment. The moment Veresch returns, Kyara relinquishes that jacket, quickly slipping into her own with considerable relief. "That was kind of you, Veresch; thank you!" the greenrider says with a grin, a bit caught off guard by the act but warmed by it nonetheless. Liareth watches the girl curiously, hunkering down beside them both to act as a windbreak and to get a better read on this new person. "I'm usually out here for runs every other morning or so," Kyara explains, still catching her breath. The face-washing bit, though, earns a shudder. "In the lake? It's icy! Why not just visit the baths?" Warm water! Even if it is in counter to a hangover. The look is chuckled at, and the last gets a curious tilt of her head. "Sure, I have time. What can I do for you?"

The girl gives an embarrassed shrug, the one-shouldered kind that teenagers do so well. "'S ok," she mumbles, and waits for the other jacket to go on before she continues. "I got a knife the other day," she shares at length. "From K'ane. However, except for stabbing someone with the sharp end, I don't really know much about it, and the last time I tried to punch someone I think I hurt my fist more than their jaw." With the wind as nippy as it is, she's glad of the windbreak that Liarith forms for the two of them, and huddles a little closer to Kyara and the dragon to get the maximum benefit. "He suggested that you might be better to ask to receive some sort of training. I just don't know what that'd be worth in barter, really, so I … well. If you even offer lessons?"

Freesia is out for an early morning walk, getting her exercise for the day. She wears an ankle length dress, jacket, and veil. Her shoes are carried in her hand as she walks along the cold sand. Dragon, rider and Veresh catch her attention and she detours her way towards the small crowd. "Good morning," she calls brightly, approaching slowly.

Feet grate on the sanded stones, a rapid patter that slows to a steady walk. A'dan treads into view, hands laced behind his head, breath pluming through clenched teeth, white on the cold air. Plume. Plume. "Bone alignment," he pants. A'dan's fingers are laced behind his head, another run completed. "Mornin' Kyara." He tips a look at Veresch, "Veresch." Continuing his approach, hands fall to his sides, "Hit someone wrong, you will hurt yourself." He looks up at Kyara, "She'd be a good one to teach you." Freesia's entry has the bronzerider withdrawing a step, eyes going up and down the shore. "Ma'am."

Putting herself through a few subtle stretches as she listens, Kyara nods. "Yes, I remember that conversation," she says with a nod, stopping and giving the girl a lopsided smile. "I seem to remember saying I was willing to teach, too." The question of what lessons might be worth is set aside for the moment at the approach of others; the veiled (and shoeless!) woman gets a smiled "Hello," and A'dan's arrival is met with a salute. She nods at his assessment of what goes into a proper hit, grinning at the vote of confidence for her teaching. "I'd be glad to teach you," she tells Veresch, her expression waxing serious as she adds, "but only if you promise to use it only as needed. It's important to know, but it's not to be taken lightly."

From the twist on Veresch's tired face, there are at least a few candidates for a good slugging, but she nods to Kyara in a jerky fashion, giving the kind of bow that, to her, betokens respect. "Yes, ma'am," she says with it, hands digging deeper into her pockets. "I'll … um. Never punch first? But if they try and hurt me, I don't want to hold back either." That would negate the point of the training! With the scary part over with, however, she turns to give Freesia and A'dan both grins, albeit small and watery. "Freesia… sir." Casting an apologetic glance Liareth's way, she squidges a little closer, enough to give a tiny bit more protection as she scans the skies. "I was trying to aim for his nose," she admits somewhat sulkily, brow furrowed by Chel's damn devil cocktail. "But he jerked back, so I got his jaw instead."

"Hey, Veresch," Freesia greets, waving her free hand. She gives a nod to the two riders, tossing her shoes down to the ground. She ducks down to put her shoes back on, then stands, explaining, "I love the feel of the sand under my feet, even in the cold. As long as I stay away from the water, it's not too cold for a brief walk." Freesia's grin is discernable beneath her gauzy white veil. "Are you learning how to fight?" She asks of Veresch.

A'dan returns the salute. He rumbles quietly, "In my experience, punching first is best." He levels a steady look at Veresch and Kyara, "Assuming you have to throw a punch at all. Better to not be there in the first place." He bounces on his toes, keeping blood circulating in the cold air. Freesia's bare feet get an incredulous look. A short distance away, Narloth lands heavily, copper-and-gold crazed dark hide looking particularly frumpy today. He totters over to the group and for all the aimless seeming amble, turns steady speculative eyes on the assembled two-legged folk. For Liareth, he draws up, neck arched, a short blat of greeting.

"There are times to punch first," Kyara half-agrees with A'dan, leaning against Liareth's shoulder and watching as Freesia gets her shoes back on (thank Faranth), "but that'll be a few lessons along. Sometimes you're not given a choice, one way or the other. Punching properly comes first, and it doesn't matter what you're aiming for - without the right technique, it'll hurt. With it, though, even someone with your build can make a guy as big as A'dan think twice." She slants a grin up at the bronzerider, glancing briefly up at the arriving Narloth. Liareth sends a crooned greeting up to the frumpy bronze but doesn't move otherwise, maintaining her windbreak around the small gathering and continuing to quietly assess the two unfamiliar girls with a cool green gaze.

Veresch rocks back on her heels and stares down at them to hide the little happy glint in her eye as Narloth makes his way over. "I've asked, yes," she murmurs after the greeting between the two dragons. "Can't just ask the roughnecks in the bazaar to ignore my boobs any longer. I want to at least be able to tell them polite to go take a f… to go away, and enforce it if they don't want to listen. And I want to be fitter than I am at the moment. I've thought of starting runs along the lake shore as well - it seems to be everyone's exercise spot of choice." Her eyes flick between her new teacher and the bronzerider, both of which normally indulge in the cray-cray of early morning runs. Must build character or something.

Freesia stamps her feet to warm them. At least she's wearing a jacket! The prostitute listens along as A'dan and Kyara begin instructing Veresch in physical combat. Though she may have bodyguards at her place of employment, self defense lessons may be of use if Freesia needs to protect herself on the streets of the bazaar. "That's good thinking. The bazaar can be rough, but the guard is worse. Oh yes, his name is Thierry. I met his friend yesterday who told me his name." Freesia suddenly ohs, her face becoming sheepish. "I'm Freesia," she offers her name to the two riders.

A'dan says, "More than a few lessons in, I'd wager." A'dan walks to Narloth and extracts a set of robes to go over his sodden running gear. He hisses stepping into the open air beyond the windbreak of Liareth's flank. He chokes at Veresch's casual mention of feminine assets. "Roughnecks." He squints at Veresch. "Don't get enough running in your day-to-day?" A'dan draws up at a mention of the guard being worse than the bazaar inhabitants. More squinting and furrowing of considerable brow. He inclines his head at Freesia's introduction, "A'dan, bronze Narloth's." The bronze dragon turns a massive head and intent eyes on the young woman."

"Kyara, green Liareth's," the greenrider greets the veiled woman, giving the strong shoulder against which she leans a fond rub. A nod of concession goes to A'dan…but Veresch's comment about roughnecks, and Freesia's about the guard being worse than certain aspects of the Bazaar, has her narrowing her eyes. "Those 'roughnecks' are just the sort the guard are supposed to be watching out for, and you're telling me they're worse?" Her frown deepening, Kyara pushes away from Liareth's shoulder slightly, absently cracking her knuckles. This is getting into the realm of Things She Shouldn't Stick Her Nose Into…but Faranth, is it tempting. With a gusty bit of a sigh, she trains her eyes on Veresch once more. "Yes, I'll teach you. Don't worry about bartering for it; it's fine." Allowing a smirk, she adds, "And if you ever see me out here like this, feel free to join in, if you're after the exercise."

The mention of Thierry's name from Freesia brings a flinch, a quick one that's well-hidden to non-observant eyes. He wouldn't hurt you," she says after a moment's internal struggle. "He's not… he's an ass, but he wouldn't strike women. That's not to say he won't try to make you feel like the tiniest worm you've ever seen. If someone can make him pull his head out of his ass and think before he talks, he'll be good enough." Bland speech, blunt knowledge, with a lot of pain behind it. "Rei is better. Prettiest, not to mention the sweetest man I've ever met." Her lips quiver into a frown, but she manages to smooth her expression out. "I run enough, but it's not often long distances, just here and there around the Weyr. I'm going to need more stamina than that, in case it's a long call. And thanks, Kyara, I will. Um, if you can tell me which time you start, I'll be here in the mornings."

A'dan is most assuredly not sticking his nose into anything. But those names. That flinch from Veresch. All noted. Filed away. "Running is as good a way as any to build endurance." At the talk of pretty men, A'dan goes back to mussing with Narloth's straps. Folks downwind of him might have heard a light, dismissive, grunt. Jealous?
"Every other morning, with the sun," Kyara informs Veresch of her running routine. "Unless I have a sweep or early drills, but if you're serious about coming along, I'll let you know about those in advance." She shifts further away from her dragon, and the pretty green rises with a rustle of her wings. "At any rate, I'd best get back to my weyr. It so happens I do have a sweep coming up soon, so I'd better get ready. I'll talk to you soon, Veresch. Good to meet you, Freesia. A'dan," she finishes, ticking off one more salute to the bronzerider before jumping to pull up onto her green's neck, "see you later." Liareth takes a few bounds down the shore to avoid inundating all present with downdrafts and then is nimbly away, off to business.

"I wondered," Veresch shares with Freesia on a grin, "The first time I saw him, I wondered whether he was a girl. He's prettier than everyone, and you're beautiful yourself." Giving the woman's shoulder a little buck-up bump from hers, there's another sentence, this one whispered very low, and she gives Freesia another grin. Then, more happily, she carefully approaches A'dan and Narloth, eyeing the straps judiciously before taking that final step towards them. "Good morning, Narloth," she says. "With respect, thank you again for the other day. I really enjoyed it." Her hand lifts hesitantly, and she shoots a look at A'dan. "May I, please? If he's alright with it?"

You overhear Veresch mutter, "… … A'dan is pretty … for … old guy, …" to Freesia.

Freesia laughs, "He does look like a girl. And thank you." Veresch seems to think everyone is great looking, while Freesia is only average in her own eyes. But Veresch's comment only serves to widen Freesia's grin beneath the veil. She bobs her head in agreement, eyeing the older man for a moment. "Not old," she whispers back, her voice not quite as low as Veresch's. She stands back while the younger girl approaches the dragon. She may be familiar with many a dragonrider, but she has rarely interacted with a dragon.

A'dan salutes Kyara on her way out. Narloth rumbles at Liareth's departure watching her wing away before dropping his muzzle to regard Veresch as the girl approaches. He doesn't have any comment on Freesia's looks, but does give her a onceover when the subject arises. To Veresch, "Another time," he freezes, having caught a bit of what Veresch muttered to Freesia. Narrow looks fitted on both girls. "Gotta be about my day. Veresch. Freesia." The bronzerider nods and clambers up onto Narloth's neck. The dragon schleps away and launches heavily into the air.

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