It's early evening, not long before dinnertime, and the galleries are quiet. Heat radiates up from the Sands below, the eggs lying undisturbed in their usual configuration. And one Harper Apprentice finds herself unattended, walking up the stairs with an expression of cautious curiosity. This is not a familiar place for her. She reaches the top, pauses to take in the scene, then makes her way a few rows back to a thoroughly empty stone bench. Once settled, she exhales.

Aderyna slips in on near-silent footsteps, likely because the wildling seems to have abandoned her boots in favor of mincing her way down the stairs barefoot. The footwear in question is carried in one hand, dangling from her fingers in the lightest grip she can manage. She hop-skips her way down the steps with ease, before breaking her near silence by dropping her boots on the floor by her chosen seat with a loud thud. If Zafiya happens to glance her way, she'll get an ever so innocent smile from the wildling girl.

"I told you it wasn't a tunnelsnake, ye fardlin' wherryhead. Just one of T'ral's papers." K'lir says, his voice low but the acoustics making his words clear for anyone to hear. The paper in question is folded haphazardly and stuffed into his pocket as he makes his way into the galleries before moving to the well-lit area of the front seat where the newly minted Weyrsecond seems to have taken up semi-permanent residency. Aderyna gets a nod of greeting as he moves past the girl, a curious glance given to the Harper Apprentice seated nearby, before he thumps down in his seat and drops the small pack he'd returned with. A pair of rolled hides and a few silversticks emerge from the pack as he turns sideways to utilize the bench as a drawing table as well as a seat.

Likely the only wildling Harper herself, as it happens, Zafiya whips her head around at the sound of dropping boots, poised to jump out of her seat if needed. She stops herself when she sees that innocent smile, though, and - wait a minute. Zafiya's shoulders relax slightly, her face softening with recognition. "Are you - I mean, excuse me, are you - you're from the wilds. Right?" K'lir's entrance earns a return glance in his direction, complete with a quick once-over, and then her attention is back on the shorter girl.

Aderyna cocks her head, hearing a voice that's beginning to become familiar approaching, although it's more difficult to pinpoint the direction than she'd like. That's the little furrow in her brow, which stays until K'lir appears. Whatever she was planning to do with her boots - something that apparently involved the knife she has half drawn from her belt - is forgotten. The knife slides back into place, and she lightly treads her way across benches to get closer to the pair. K'lir's drawing is eyed curiously, before she looks back to Zafiya. "I am." There's a coolness to her tone, hiding the ever-present fear of derision.

K'lir weights the corners of a completed map where he can see all of the highlights he needs to copy and spreads out the blank hide beneath it before taking up a silverstick to begin copying the map he'd promised the Headman. He glances up and smiles as he watches Aderyna tread across the backless benches to where he is settled, his eyes flicking to the knife that is slid back into place. The ex-hunter doesn't miss much of anything and peers at the Harper curiously at that question and raises an eyebrow at the coolness he hears in the wildling's tone. The young man turns his attention back to his copying task though half an ear is left open to monitor the females, knowing this age can be rather volitile … at least it was for him, always ready to fight. The outlines of the icy hold is sketched into the blank hide quickly and small notations put down in the main body as well as in the margins of the drawing.

Zafiya pivots back toward K'lir, though her eyes are following Aderyna. She breaks into a relieved smile at the wildling's response. "Good," she says. "OK. So am I. Well, I mean, I'm a Harper, also, but I'm a wildling first. They want to - I'm trying to meet more of us. They - we - " Ugh, when did this get so complicated? She takes a breath. "Nobody's written our histories. Or our songs, our stories, anything. And that's what I do now. Does this make sense?" Her gaze drops to the hide K'lir has spread out, a momentary distraction from her quest.

Aderyna considers Zafiya for a moment, looking her up and down with that uncanny stare she seems to favor. "You're a wildling?" She is crouched on the bench at this point, considering the Harper as though she might be some foreign creature. With a thoughtful hum, she settles herself upon the bench cross-legged. "That makes sense." There's consideration in her expression as she glances back toward K'lir. She leans over, trying to get a better view of just what he's doing with that sketch.

K'lir is aware of their scrutiny but remains silent for now as is his wont, listening to the conversation between the two young women as he continues making his new copy of the map. The symbols used on the map probably understandable by anyone with wildling heritage, especially if they hunted at any time in the past. A sly smile curls his lips as the wildling Harper has pretty much built his argument that he presented to Aderyna just the day before that the wildling girl could find benefit in what the Weyr can teach her and offer her. The bronzerider doesn't hide the work that he's doing, it's not a secret after all though he knows the trappers down at the Hold would prefer no one else to know their trap lines as a matter of course. After a while, he finally speaks in a low approving tone. "I'm glad that someone has agreed to write down the history of your clans. Some of the stories are quite interesting and entertaining."

Zafiya nods, somewhat apologetically. For not being recognized right away, most likely. Identity is hard. "I am." She smiles at K'lir's approval, and not just because he holds sway with the girl. "Thank you," she says. "Master Gahon and I - we just don't want the wild people to be…lost." A hair of hesitation on that last word, attempting to phrase things carefully. And then another look at the map. "Is that the Hold?"

It takes Aderyna a moment from her angle, but certain things look familiar and she has a prior conversation as a reference point. With a quiet 'ha' of understanding, she pushes herself back up into a seated position. The smile that crosses her lips is a smug one. "I like our stories," she agrees, with an almost wistful note to her tone. "And I would like to hear others." For certainly, there must be some belonging to other groups which she does not know. "But I have no clan." The wildling girl gets to her feet, lightly hopping up to where she left her boots. Once they're safely retrieved, she treads her way back down to the pair. "That is K'lir. He is almost Weyrleader," she introduces, grinning.

Glancing up at Zafiya and Aderyna, K'lir offers that slight smile again and nods gently in understanding. "Master Gahon is right that the wild folk shouldn't be lost. I know that many wildlings worried that they and their culture would be … absorbed by the rest of us when they came in from the wilds. It's a good thing that you do, Harper." He turns a mild frown on Aderyna when the young woman asserts she doesn't have a clan and shakes his head slightly. "Of course you have a clan … even I do though I wasn't born to it. My clan-father was claimed by the ancients shortly after I was taken in but they are still my clan." He chuckles softly at the introduction she offers to the other girl and shakes his head slightly. "Actually I'm Weyrsecond … not almost Weyrleader. Big difference there."

Zafiya tilts her head a little, taking this in. "No clan? Do you have a family?" She watches the girl's feet a moment. "I'd like to hear your stories, either way," she clarifies. "And I can tell you others. I like our stories very much." She smiles at the bronzerider's approval, relaxing still more. "Thank you. I'm glad that you understand." And then she gets a name for this K'lir person, which of course she ought to address. She furrows her brow slightly at the proferred title, then nods in comprehension at his clarification. "Weyrsecond," she repeats. She recognizes that one. "K'lir. I'm Zafiya. What's your clan?"

Aderyna shakes her head firmly as she places her boots bottom up on her lap and pulls out her knife, carefully beginning to scrape away accumulated dirt on the sole. The dust and mud and… who knows what else falls carelessly on the floor in a haphazard sort of pile. She'll clean that up later, probably. Maybe. "I have living blood, but no clan. They will not have me." Her focus is intent upon that boot, but she makes a point of glancing up and smiling at the pair of them. Any heaviness in her words is brushed off with a light, "We will never be lost. We have better stories." This she seems certain of, even though she knows little of the dragonfolk. Zafiya's question to K'lir earns her attention, and she looks to him expectantly. Yes, tell.

K'lir experiences a faint hesitancy to speak about the clan that took him in a few Turns past but shakes it off since the two asking aren't doing so out of idle curiosity. He frowns at the information that Aderyna's clan won't have her and wonders what the girl might have done to so anger her family as to outcast her but shrugs as it is not his business since she's not of his clan. "Reez clan, we are few. After my clan-father died the rest chose to return to the wilds." The explanation is scant and probably not satisfying their curiosity but the bronzerider isn't really wanting to consider that painful episode that left him with only the family he has now at the Weyr. "It might be a good thing to tell your stories to Zafiya for her to write down. Perhaps she'll give you a copy to read when you want to and to teach your children from when you have them." He glances between the two, wondering what Aderyna might make of herself and hoping that she'll enjoy whatever she chooses.

The look Zafiya gives Aderyna is a little sympathetic, but mostly very interested. Lucky K'lir's story is out there dangling, or she'd likely launch into some rather intrusive questions. There comes that familiar head-tilt again, a little like a curious deer. "So you are from the wilds too." And again a round of probing questions is sidetracked by changing the subject. "Yes, I'd like it if you'd tell me your stories," she repeats. "Even if they're only yours and not your clan's. Do you know why they don't want you?" Zafiya's blunt questions may be delayed, but they're rarely gone forever.

"Maybe they will return," Aderyna offers to K'lir hopefully. Distracted by the conversation as she is, an accidental flick of her knife sends a rather large clump of dirt flying. She winces in apology. "I don't think I will have children, but I can tell her," a glance to Zafiya, "-you, my stories. I can tell you the clan's stories, too." She gives the bottom of the boot a once-over with a critical eye, and upon deeming it finished she leans over to begin work on the other boot. "I'm a curse," she answers with a slight shrug. If there's any pain that goes with those words, it's nowhere to be seen in her demeanor. "And what is your clan?"

Zafiya's question earns a shake of his head as K'lir frowns at Aderyna and gently clears his hide of that clump of dirt before that frown clears. "No, I wasn't born to the wilds … I saved my clan-father from a feline attack, kind of. He didn't really need a lot of help from me." He shrugs slightly as he makes a few more notations on that fresh hide and simply falls back into listening to his companions talk. The bronzerider glances up at the mention that Aderyna is considered a curse and shakes his head, grimacing slightly as he wonders why parents everywhere make that same mistake with children who are simply different than the norm.

Zafiya's question earns a shake of his head as K'lir frowns at Aderyna and gently clears his hide of that clump of dirt before that frown clears. "No, I wasn't born to the wilds … I saved my clan-father from a feline attack, kind of. He didn't really need a lot of help from me." He shrugs slightly as he makes a few more notations on that fresh hide and simply falls back into listening to his companions talk. The bronzerider glances up at the mention that Aderyna is considered a curse and shakes his head, grimacing slightly as he wonders why parents everywhere make that same mistake with children who are simply different than the norm.

Zafiya breaks into a full, delighted smile at the girl's acceptance of her offer. "Yes! That would be perfect." A little dirt comes her way. She brushes it off, unperturbed. K'lir's story carries its own interest. "You weren't? Were these the southern wilds or another?" And then curses come up, and she's back on Aderyna, tempered by just a little thrill of nerves. "I haven't given us a name yet. We never named ourselves. Our elder was Fizeyl, though, my father. We were nomads and we traveled far, mostly in the lowlands. How are you a curse?"

Aderyna offers K'lir a sheepish - if somewhat amused - smile for the mess she sends his way. "And he made you one of his clan?" She pauses in her scraping, eyeing K'lir curiously. How different clans can be, it seems. Her moment of contemplation passed, she resumes her work of scraping away at the sole of her boot, careful not to send chunks flying this time. "We did not travel so much. We knew where the hunt was good and we followed the same paths." Traditionalists, her lot. "I was the last child born to the clan." There's a note to her voice that almost sounds like pride. "And my hair." She pauses in her scraping to pick up a few strands, letting them slip through the same fingers that hold the knife. "No color, no life."

K'lir glances a bit puzzledly at Zafiya and nods his head slightly at her question. "I'm Keroonian, originally. I wasn't aware there were wildlings anywhere other than the Southern continent … I never encountered any when I was wandering around up north. I was under the impression that there wasn't enough free land for them … according to my clan-father's stories." At Aderyna's question, she earns a slight smile and a nod though he doesn't elaborate much more than what he already has. When she explains further, he glances at her hair and shakes his head slightly. "No reason to curse you for that … you can't control what color your hair ends up being. As the last child, and female to boot, you should have been treasured rather than outcast." There is a faint sense of contempt for Aderyna's family though he doesn't mention it aloud.

Zafiya studies Aderyna's hair curiously. "Interesting. I haven't heard of that one yet. But there aren't many with light hair in my clan, either. You've lived alone, then?" The question is direct, with neither rancor nor sympathy. And to K'lir, with a shrug - "I don't know of any, either, but I thought I'd ask." She does not comment on the morality of Aderyna's supposed curse. Rather, she turns suddenly and looks toward the entrance to the Sands, noticing a familiar, eccentric Harper looking distractedly in at the eggs. "Listen," she says quickly. "Can we talk soon? After dinner, or perhaps tomorrow? I'm normally at the Ice Fields, and I want to hear some of your stories before I go back again."

Aderyna laughs quietly as she scrapes off the last of the dirt from her second boot. This is set down beside the other, while she uses a bare foot so gently scraaape the little pile of dirt to the side. Lest anyone notice what she's up to in hiding her mess, she speaks up. "I was cherished by my mother, and that is enough. It does not matter what they think of me." Deeming the pile successfully 'hidden', she turns her gaze to Zafiya. "I stayed with the clan until my mother passed. After that, I was alone." She follows the direction of the Harper's gaze, squinting at the unfamiliar figure. A somewhat surprised blink, and then she answers simply, "Yes. I will find you."

K'lir offers a fully approving smile to Aderyna and nods slightly. "That is all that matters then. That you know you were cherished by your mother. What others think of you has no bearing on you as an individual." He nods again to Zafiya and chuckles softly. "I was starting to think you were testing me or something." When the two make plans to get together for a chat at another time, he feels as if he's done something right even though he's not done anything at all. He nods distractedly to the two young women and turns back to concentrate on his sketch for a few more notations.

Zafiya beams. "Great. Yes. Please do." K'lir gets an amused smile. "Just curious. I'd love to hear about your clan as well, Weyrsecond. See if you can find me for Master Gahon soon." And then she gathers her things and heads off. "Nice to meet you both!" She calls, and then she's down the stairs and away.

"Someone had to cherish me, or I would not have survived," Aderyna says matter-of-factly, but there's the curve of a smile on her lips. She laughs a little at the mention of testing, darting a glance at the departing girl that suggests she might consider this to be a good idea, at some later date. The wildling girls will have plenty to talk about, at either rate. With Zafiya gone, it's just K'lir and Aderyna in the galleries this evening, and the barefoot wildling scoots over on her bench to perch herself on the other side of the map the bronzerider is sketching out. She crosses her legs, leaning over to inspect it in a way that likely blocks some of the light.

It's been some time since Dione's face had been seen around Southern Weyr; with the North's cold mixed with that of between on her skin, she looked almost a stranger in her thick clothes for a minute or so. Correcting that with a grumble and finding the Kitten for the latest stash of gossip took quite a while, but led her feet to the galleries and its inhabitants. Moving quietly up and along the back, she coots the long, filmy skirt up — all the better to sneak like that, you know? There's a second's warning of thin slippers on stone, and then a flying body. Going by some measure of insane faith, the young woman jumps and hurls herself down the last few steps, obviously planning to impact on K'lir's back like a limpet. "Weyrsecond! Congratulations!" A wink to Aderyna, and an arm lashed over his eyes. "Guess who?"

K'lir nods slightly as Zafiya makes her exit and smiles gently at Aderyna's words, his expression understanding. "This is very true. And you've done well for yourself too." When she moves to peer down at the map and blocks the light, he glances up and shakes his head in amusement. "If you could sit back a bit you'd see more and I could point out the things I'm putting down on the new map." Before the young woman can even reply, the bronzerider is hit by that lithe body and finds himself bending forward slightly under the impact though the weight is negligible compared to some he's had to shoulder. He stiffens slightly and only stops his instinctive reaction to a perceived attack when he hears that vaguely familiar voice. He ponders the question of who might be on his back until it finally clicks and there is incredulty in his voice. "Dione? Where have you been?!?"

It's apparent from her expression that Aderyna doesn't particularly want to make things easy, but she's grudgingly beginning to move back when movement from behind K'lir catches her eye. She doesn't even have time to yelp out a warning before the other girl is upon him. The wildling just stares, wide-eyed at the new arrival. Her startled slip back puts her a better distance from the map, but now there is a new distraction to catch her eye. This person is not a threat, it seems, and so Aderyna's tense shoulders release their tension. Curiously, she looks between the two, as though waiting expectantly for the answer to the posed question.

Dione's mouth quirks into a small smile, moving the arm across his eyes to rest on top of K'lir's head. The question is ignored for the moment; instead, her attention goes to the sands and the pair lounging there, and she dips her head in a gesture of respect to the clutchparents. It's to the girl that her attention goes next. "Hello," she says happily. "I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting." Her eyes are searching, but kind. "I'm Dione." It takes but a few moments to clamber of K'lir's back, and she plucks her clothing straight. "Up North — I visited some family and friends, took a break from the humidity. Let me tell you, K'lir, never again. I froze off bits that I couldn't afford to freeze off. But you, congratulations! He's gotten huge, hasn't he?"

Unfortunately Aderyna is forgotten for a few moments as K'lir registers that his fellow Candidate has finally returned to the Southern Weyr. As she climbs off his back and tries to straighten her clothes, he reaches out and snags her playfully around the waist and pulls her across his lap. A little taller and much stronger than he'd been the last time she saw him, he plants a kiss full on her mouth and not just a sweet peck either. When he finally pulls away, the grin is the same boyish grin with that same shy blush coloring his cheeks with that mischievous sparkle in those amber eyes as he looks at her. "You didn't even say goodbye. Didn't you think we'd miss you?" There is no chiding in his tone, understanding why she'd avoided the other Candidates since he'd gone through that bitterness himself at one time.

Aderyna doesn't really expect to be addressed, and simply stares blankly at Dione for a moment before offering a cheerful, "We were not meeting." A glance goes down to the forgotten map, which she can see much better from this angle. "Aderyna." That curious gaze tilts to the side as K'lir sweeps Dione overand kisses her. There's nothing scandalized in her look - she's no Hold-bred lass, after all - just a touch of humor and the look of one who is completely lost. For a moment, it seems as though she'll simply sit there and stare, utterly aware of any sort of social graces in offering them their privacy. And she does do exactly that for several seconds, before her attention snaps to the side suddenly. Boots! With that thought, the wildling scoots away to retrieve her forgotten footwear. She's not far, but it's a bit of privacy at least.

Okay, well, that was different. There's a blink afterwards, and a hesitant head-ruffle. "I … missed you lot too," she mutters, patting the arm around her waist for a moment to stand. There's no way she has the main strength to fight free. Her glance darts to Aderyna's very considerate search for her booths, and her voice drops. "We can talk later, and I can explain?" There's a sense that there are explanations due in any case; her old Candidate class deserves them more than most. "C'mon. Let me up." When she's back on her feet again, she clears her throat and dips her head to the boot-searching girl. "Dione," she introduces herself. "Sometime, when you're at the Kitten, let me buy you something to say welcome. Or welcome back." Her brows knit. "I'm a little behind on advanced welcomes."

K'lir laughs at that head-ruffle and lets Dione pull away, surprised that he was able to fluster her as much as she used to fluster him along with the other young, male Candidates of their group. He nods at her request to talk later and gestures to the bench above him for her to sit since the area in front of him is occupied by those maps and his drawing supplies. "Sorry, Aderyna … it's been a while since I've seen Dione. She was a Candidate with me." He straightens his copying supplies and just can't seem to lose the smile that the bartender has caused to be plastered to his face. "Aderyna's one of the wildfolk. She's trying to figure out some kind of job that she can do that'll keep her outside the Weyr as much as I used to." Glancing at the girl as she searches out her boots, he frowns slightly. "I forgot to ask … can you swim? If so, I know something you can do that no one else has chosen to do but is just as necessary and quite welcomed whenever I can manage to get time away for it." Remembering that she'd commented on Bryntaeroth's size, he smiles out at his sooty-bronze lifemate and nods slightly. "That's right, you haven't seen him since he was just a hatchling, have you? You'll have to meet him when we talk later. I've got a cask of some really good ale if you'd like to try it."

"You said that. Your name," Aderyna tells Dione with barely hidden - alright, not at all hidden - amusement. "But then he kissed you." There's a quiet bubble of laughter before she locates her boots and makes her way back to the pair with them in hand. The mention of the Kitten registers no recognition on the girl's face, speaking to just how new she may be. A look goes momentarily to K'lir in askance, before she simply shrugs. Another one of those Southern mysteries to uncover. "You didn't take one of the beasts?" she asks, glancing down toward the sands. "Maybe you will like one of those." She tugs on one boot, doing it up before reaching for the next. "I can swim. What is this task that is necessary and welcome?" She finishes with her second boot, and adjusts both to her satisfaction. There. Perfect. "I can leave you alone if you would like to do more touching." With that innocent expression, the words could really mean anything. Really.

It's a thin rill, a slight movement, but Dione relaxes from slightly tensed shoulders at the offer of drinks. "A little ale wouldn't be amiss, I'm sure," Dione murmurs. "But just a little — I'm not that fond of the taste of it." She's a frou-frou drinker. "You'll have to forgive me then. I believe that's enough touching just for this moment, this place is a no-touching zone, I think." She hopes. Poor dragons. That, of course, to Aderyna, with a grin. "I think it rather depends on whether one of them like me. I'll leave the two to your job discussion. Weyrsecond, bring her around to the Kitten later on, okay?" Yes, she's going to get immense pleasure out of teasing him with that title. "I'll see the two of you later." She turns to scoot off, one hand lifted in farewell.

K'lir chuckles softly at the girl's offer to leave them alone for more 'touching' and shakes his head as Dione too demures though he's a little hopeful at her acceptance of his offer. Knowing she isn't fond of ale was safe since she should know he's got other imbibables that can be made into frou-frou drinks too, and the knowledge of how to make them. "It's okay. I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to catch up now that you're back … you are back to stay, aren't you?" At least he hopes. At the question of the task, he shrugs. "I'll have to introduce you to Severni before I offer it to you, she'll want to vet you at the very least to be sure you can bring in what her customers want. Anything extra can go to the Weyr, at least then you'll be able to support yourself and give you a place to eat and drink if you need it." He nods at the request, a blush coloring his cheeks again as she teases him about his new rank and waves as she heads off. "See you later, Dione. I'll come round the Kitten tomorrow, see if I can catch you working." Gathering up his drawing materials, he sighs and offers Aderyna a wry smile. "I'm not going to get this done tonight. Bryn's complaining of an itch and I need to go tend to him or he won't let me sleep tonight. Can I talk to you about the job tomorrow?"

Aderyna looks mildly disappointed as her attempts at matchmaking fall short. She'll get 'em next time. "Enjoy your Kitten, Dione!" she calls after the departing woman, casting a glance to K'lir to see if the unfamiliar name was used correctly. She listens to his explanation with a gaze that slowly narrows into further uncertainty, until the whole thing is finally dismissed with a small lift of her shoulders. "Tomorrow, yes," she agrees, because today she has no idea what he's talking about. "Sleep well, K'lir." The wildling gets to her feet, hopping bench by bench in her exit. Somehow, she still manages to be somewhat light on her feet even with boots on. As she reaches the top, she raises one hand in passing before disappearing. If she's lucky, no one will ever remember how that small pile of dirt found its way into the galleries.