Who

Cleora, Kyara, Thierry

What

Cleora tracks down Kyara to hand over a note. Kyara surprises Thierry with a little token.

When

It is afternoon of the twenty-eighth day of the second month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr Central Bowl

OOC Date

 

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Central Bowl

Cradled, childlike, in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, the wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the northeastern bazaar, the adobe sprawl of the New Weyr reflected in the lake that dominates a large portion of outdoor Igen. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the shores, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. One cracked path, faint with disuse, leads southeast to the crumbling ruins of Igen-that-was. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.


OOC: Takes place after Prymelia hands Cleora a note.

The afternoon is still crisp with winter's touch, though the sky above is cloud-studded blue, and Rukbat's rays shine brightly on the Weyr below her. Two guard recruits - one tall and wiry with teenage strength and a surliness to his step, the other shorter, more svelte, somewhat daintier in her own stride - are crossing the bowl, seemingly on thier way to… well, one could guess somewhere important. There's little conversation happening between them, and yet the shorter of the two, Cleora, seems oblivious to the looks that Thierry keeps sneaking at her chest. It bounces. He's got a height advantage. So easy to look at them from where he is!

A good length off the beaten path to the Living Caverns, keeping a silent yet curious watch over all who come and go, sits a graceful sentinel of a green dragon. Liareth would normally be doing this from an unoccupied ledge…but her rider is in the midst of an errand, and they'll need to be off again shortly. Kyara is currently finishing some hushed conversation with a tall, thin man draped in a cloak, whose hand she shakes as he passes her a somewhat long, wrapped bundle. As he walks off, she hauls up onto her dragon's straps slightly to open a pouch. That done, she carefully unwraps a bit of her new acquisition to give it a cursory inspection, giving a subtle nod of approval as amber eyes inspect the contents.

It just so happens that Kyara's path crosses the one that Cleora and Thierry are marching; the shorter girl recruit signals for her partner to halt, pausing to say something to him in a hushed voice. Then their course diverts, with Thierry trailing reluctantly behind a determined Cleo. "Excuse, ma'am? I'm so awfully sorry to bother you and be an inconvenience." She stands before the greenrider, hands clasped before her, head bowed subserviently; while Thierry hangs back looking the complete opposite to his demure compatriot. "I accepted a note on an errand, ma'am, and I believe you may be its intended recipient. May I ask, please are you Kyara?" Thierry snorts, turning aside to drag a toke from his pocket, lighting it up with he leaves the ladies to do their thing. /Girl/ business is not /his/ business.

The voice from slightly behind and roughly to her left has Kyara's gaze snapping upward with a slight start, and she flips the hide covering back over her bundle as she turns to the approaching pair. "You're not an incovenience at all, trust me," the greenrider assures the young woman with a shake of her head. Eyes flick over the man with quick curiosity before landing back on the girl. "I am Kyara, as a matter of fact," she confirms, taking a few steps to come nearer and smiling encouragingly at her. "What can I do for you?"

Kyara's warmth does encourage Cleora to look up at her, settling her grey-eyed gaze on the greenrider's, if only for a few coy seconds. "Ma'am. I thought you fit the description I was given." She bobs her head in a polite greeting. "I accepted a note as a favour from the trader Prymelia; she requested I pass it to you, so you can have it forwarded to its final recipient." Her hand dips into the pocket of her guard's tunic, pulling out the little note in question and handing it towards Kyara. The overt display of politeness from Cleora makes toke-puffing, smoke-blowing Thierry scoff quietly, turning his back on the exchange to look out across the bowl.

At the mention of Prymelia, Kyara's eyebrows rise rather pointedly. The trader woman had given this girl a good enough description of her to be found by? "Interesting," the greenrider murmurs, taking the note from the recruit and thumbing it open. Brows suddenly draw down into a small frown as she reads. "Thank you for passing this to me, Recruit…what's your name?" she inquires, flicking another look at the young man for that bit of a scoff. She feels like she may have an idea of who he is…but that'll be saved for a moment as she waits for the girl to identify herself.

Ah, the description didn't necessarily come from Prymelia! Cleora clasps her hands gently in front of herself when she hands over the note, dipping into a little curtsey, of sorts. It's not quite as graceful in a guard's uniform as it would be in a skirt. "I beg your pardon for not volunteering it sooner, ma'am; Recruit Cleo, ma'am." Is Thierry still ignoring them from behind her? Yes. Cleora can't see it, though, and she's probably too embarrassed to introduce him, too. "Is there anything you require of me in return? Shall I say the message has been sent?"

"Faranth, please don't 'ma'am' me so much," Kyara tells Cleora with a chuckle, carefully re-folding the note and securing it in her pouch. "Kyara will do. Well met, Cleo." She flips the hide back from her bundle idly as she speaks, while Liareth lowers herself to her stomach to survey people from a bit lower down while she waits. "If you'd let Prymelia know I got the message and passed it on, I'd appreciate it. Just do it discreetly, if you would," she says with a wink, knowing that the note must have come to Cleora in a similar fashion. "Thank you for stopping by with this for me on your watch, Recruits. If I might ask," Kyara goes on, looking on the young man inquiringly, "you wouldn't happen to be Thierry, would you?"

Cleora nods in understanding. "I believe discretion isthe best approach when it comes to those around Prymelia. I'll inform her at the earliest possibility." That the greenrider would recognise her partner for the day seems to surprise Cleora as much as it does him; Thierry turns to look at Kyara, puffing a smokering into the air between them before he drops his toke to stamp it out against the ground. "Yeah. What of it?" Not /quite/ as polite as the recruit he's with, though he does at least take a leaf from Cleo's book by tacking on a "Ma'am?"

There's a knowing slant of a smile for Cleora at that as Kyara turns back the other flap of hide around her bundle while she half steps a bit closer to Thierry. The edge of belligerance to his tone earns a slight uptick of one brow, though it doesn't faze her much; she's heard so much of the like from other mouths around the Bazaar that it hardly surprises her. "A student of mine told me you helped her in a bad situation not long ago. Things could've ended much differently, obviously. I've something for you." From the bundle in her hand, she produces a small knife in a slim black leather sheathe. Narrow and balanced for throwing, it's about the length of a finger and a half, the handle wrought handsomely yet simply of obsidian. "It's meant for your boot, but as you will," she explains with the tiniest of smirks, holding it out to him. "Thank you."

Thierry didn't know he'd be /getting things/. He looks warily at Kyara when she offers him a /gift/, giving Cleora a quick glower as the girl steps back to allow him to come in closer; she's smirking. It doesn't put him at ease. "Yeah, mighta done something to be someone's hero." He's hesitant as he reaches for the knife; perhaps not used to just being /given/ things. "This is for me?" He's still not touched it, fingers - somewhat grubby - hovering just above the sheath. "For helping little shit out?" He's not so sure. There's gotta be a catch there somewhere, right?

Flicking a couple of fingers against the sheathe, Kyara nods, pushing it toward Thierry again in an attempt to get him to take it. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call her that, but yes," the greenrider affirms. There's your catch, boyo! Then her bit of a smirk widens to a smile. "Keep at it. The both of you. The guard chose you well. Now," she says, reaching up to stash the remainder of her bundle in the pouch on Liareth's straps before the pretty green rises in preparation for another errand, "is there anything else I can do for either of you?"

Although he's still kind of baffled to be /offered/ something for free, Thierry takes the knife, nabbing it swiftly from Kyara's hand as worried she might change her mind - better to take it than to lose it! And it's stashed quickly away in his pocket, while he eyes her narrowly. Suspiciously. "Yeah. Sure." He twitches when Cleora rests her hand on his forearm, glaring down at her. "Thank you, ma'am," the girl guard says in his stead, when it seems unlikely that Thierry himself might offer as much. "I think we're quite fine, ma'am. Begging your pardon, but we ought to get back on track; we're a relief posting and they'll be wondering where we've got to." She bobs into another awkward skirts-less curtsey, and Thierry even manages a nod of his head and a smile, when he's literally prodded by Cleora to do so. "Uh, yeah. Clear skies?" Cleora nods her approval of his farewell, giving Kyara a salute before she moves off, nudging Thierry along ahead of her.

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