Who

Amani, Willimina

What

Amani comes to ask a favor from Willimina, though more is discussed beyond that, of course.

When

It is midmorning of the twenty-fifth day of the eighth month of the fifteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Tallel & Willimina's Yurt, Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 02 Dec 2018 07:00

 

amani_default.jpg willimina_default.jpg

“It’s purely a personal thing, so only if you have time."


TalsYurtInt1.jpg

Tallel & Willimina's Yurt

Unlike the outside of this dwelling, the inside of this round tent puts the bolder, more flamboyant side of Tallel's Zingari roots on display, though it's now been augmented by all that the rest of his family brings to it. While simple in layout, there is nothing simple at all about the intricate weave of the rugs thrown down upon the light, portable wooden slat-work spanning collapsible frames. Deep wine red is the most commonly found hue, though gold, green, and silver are found as well in the hangings that drape the tent walls at even intervals. A low, wide table to the left of the hanging door serves as Tallel's primary workspace for grinding herbs and mixing medicines, while another one further off to the right - round, this time - is laden with wood and steel serving ware and makes up a small dining area. Cushions lay around the yurt in abundance for sitting, the largest pile of which obscures the low mattress on which he and Willimina sleep. Nearby, a couple of folding dividers fashioned of woven reeds and silk partition off the beds their children sleep in. A few braziers for incense and candles, as well as some round red glowbaskets, hang about the ceiling, which tapers up to a vent that can be shut against the weather but is wide enough to give a nice view of the night sky in the evenings.


When a Southerner wants a quick way to thaw and dry out during the winter, all they need to do is take a quick trip ::between:: for a visit to Igen. Summer in the desert is a quick fix…and usually gets old fairly quickly, as well. But Amani still has the desert in her veins no matter where she calls home, so she can come and visit without complaint. And after touching base with Diem and Nasrin, visiting is precisely what she’s about. She always makes time to see the Xanthee and then the Zingari while she’s here. Today, however, she does so with a bit more purpose.

Entering the Zingari camp, she asks after Willimina and goes where she’s pointed, hoping that the caravan leader isn’t too occupied at the moment. The conversation she hopes to have won’t be a quick one, after all.

Willimina won’t be hard to find, perched outside the doorway to her yurt on a stool, she’s doing something not often seen much these days: sharpening her knives. She’d found them this morning while moving things around and is determined to have a go at the throwing posts, but not until her tools are sharp enough. Her eldest three children are nowhere in sight while the twin toddlers are nearby with a nanny, so she seems alone for the moment. Her bobbed hair hangs in her face as she works and more than a few times she can be seen trying to tuck the unruly mass of waves behind an ear.

Having never seen Willimina with her knives, Amani is intrigued by the sight. With a little smirk, she adjusts her headscarf further against the sun. “I didn’t know you threw, Willimina,” she says by way of greeting, coming to a stop before the other woman. “Though I probably shouldn’t be surprised.”

Now that’s a voice Willimina hasn’t heard in some time. The Zingari leader looks up, a smile already forming on her lips as she shades her eyes from the light of Rukbat. Laughter follows. “I’m not surprised either, I haven’t tried my hand at throwing in a good many turns.” For reasons Willimina will keep entirely to herself. “I found these this morning and wondered if I was still any good at it, you’re more than welcome to join me, I’ve just about got these sharp enough.” With a practiced eye, Willimina examines the blade, carefully running her thumb along it’s sharper edge. Satisfied, she returns the blade to its sheath and stands, brushing her skirts before meandering over to offer Amani a hug of welcome. “What brings you back to our hot sandy corner of the world dear? A bit too cold down South at the moment?” She’s nonchalant about it, but Willimina is more than happy to see Amani and for a chance to visit.

“Oh, I was never as good with blades as I am with a crossbow,” Amani demurs to the idea of joining Willimina for a bit of throwing. “Though I might.” She returns the caravan leader’s hug warmly, always grateful for the welcome she receives from Willa and everyone else when she comes calling. It’s one of the reasons she will always considers the desert traders her family, far above her surviving blood still lurking underground at Kurkar.

There’s a chuckle for the question, a nod accompanying. “You could say that’s part of the reason,” she admits. “Though not the real one. I was wondering…well.” The young Weyrwoman blushes faintly, a corner of her mouth ticking upward. “It’s purely a personal thing, so only if you have time. But if you do…can we go inside?” she asks, tilting her head toward the nearby entrance to the yurt.

Willimina eyes that blush from Amani, a quirk of her lips showing mild amusement. This might be good. “Of course I have time!” Willimina always has time for one of her own, she waves towards the door of the yurt and catches her nanny’s attention. She’ll be inside. She points to the yurt and the young woman currently wrangling her twins nods in response. Satisfied, Willimina leads the way. Once inside, she sets her tools aside and rinses her hands before setting a pot of tea to the brazier. “Now, what is it I can do for you dear?” She turns towards Amani, who she hopes has followed her inside.

Amani does indeed follow, gazing at the twins with an amused but warm little smile before ducking inside. She pushes her headscarf down and unwinds herself from her robe, which she only wears to shield against the sun, revealing garb that fits her in easily among the colorful traders…apart from the intricate knot at her shoulder. “I was wondering if you still dance, Willimina,” she states frankly, her blush returning as she goes on. “Because I want to learn. For someone. And I’d trust you to show me some basics, if you’re willing.” The implication being she might not be so comfortable attempting to learn from someone else.

Well, this is certainly a surprise. Willimina grins and watches as the young Weyrwoman makes herself more comfortable. “I do, though not as often as I used to.” A flick of her gaze towards the doorway might explain why. As to Amani wanting to learn for someone, well, that brings another sort of smile to Willimina’s lips, and a look of happiness that it is she Amani wishes to learn from. “That’s quite the compliment Amani, and I thank you for it. I’d be more than happy to teach you some things if you’re willing to learn.” They can work out the logistics of where the lessons might happen later. “But I do have to ask, with Reve—- pardon me, Evka out in Southern, why not just ask her?” After all, the ex-dancer now brownrider had been primed to take over Willa’s space before her unfortunate series of events.

Amani can certainly understand why Willimina might not have time for much dancing these days, considering the size of her brood. She looks immensely relieved and pleased that the caravan leader is willing to show her few things, considering how busy they both are. Mention of Evka, however, sobers her a little, and she worries at her lower lip a bit. “Well…I thought about it,” she admits, “but…I have a feeling Rev is dealing with something right now. I don’t know what exactly; my gut just tells me if I tell her why I want to learn, she might not be so eager.” Her brow furrows mildly with concern. “I really need to make time to talk to her. Open time is harder to come by for us both now, and while I understand why, I hate that it makes it harder to just drop everything and go be with someone I care about.” She huffs a little sigh for that, looking slightly sheepish for what’s a somewhat uncharacteristic stream of explanation for her. “Anyway. That’s why I wanted to ask you. Plus it gives me another excuse to come around.”

Amani's explanation as to why she hasn't asked Evka for lessons has Willimina furrowing her brows in slight consternation. “She's had a rough road, poor thing. But I thought she was doing better?” Somehow Willimina can't imagine Evka having an issue with romance, but she barely knows the girl anymore. As to time constraints, Willimina can only give a look of sympathy. Running a caravan is not as hefty as running a Weyr, but she can sympathise nonetheless. “It can be hard, but if it's important, the time to address it will come up. And if it doesn't, you'll make time.” Willimina is certainly glad Evka has someone that cares down South with her. “I'm glad you asked me…” She's interrupted by the siren scream of the tea kettle. “Well then, tea? And perhaps you might tell me about the man you're learning to dance for?”

“She was. She is. But there’s something nipping at her heels, I think,” Amani says, and settles a bit more with a sigh. She nods to Willimina’s next points, starting just a little when the kettle sets to whistling. The caravan leader’s last earns a deep blush, but there’s a grin to go with it. “I’d love some.” And as for who she’s hoping to learn for… “He’s one of the sons of Island River’s holders. He survived a shipwreck and washed up at the cove near the Weyr. One of the wildlings rescued him, and he’s been hanging about ever since. He’s an arrogant rogue…but he’s also more than that.” A mix of exasperation and fondness infuses her expression, though something like mischief sneaks in after a moment. “He told me…he thought, by how I move, that I must be a dancer. He asked if I would for him sometime. And I liked the idea, and thought of the Zingari dancers, but…I’ve never tried to dance. Like that. I don’t think I ever could in front of people…but I find myself wanting to, for him.”

Willimina sighs. “Poor lamb, perhaps I should visit her.” Then she lets the subject of Evka slide to the ether, focusing instead on what Amani says next. There's a bit of a knowing quirk to the smile that tips Willimina's lips, but she seems to keep her own council. On what causes it. “Aye well, some of us are bound for big performances and some of us are not, there's no shame in it. I think it rather romantic you'd like to dance for your lover.” Willimina winks and chuckles. “Have you figured out what you're wearing for the occasion? Some dances require certain…costuming.”

Amani nods to the notion of Willimina going to visit Evka, though doesn’t comment further either. The subject shifts back, after all, and now she has cause to be blushing again. “I…no, I hadn’t really thought about it,” she admits with an abashed chuckle. “Mostly because whatever I wear will just end up…off at some point. But I suppose that might be part of the point, right? Wearing something that makes him want to do that even more?”

“That is precisely my point Amani dear.” Tea is made and handed off to Amani before Willa speaks again, a look of affectionate amusement taking permanent residence in her features. Willimina points at a chest sitting near the yurt door. “You can look through there if you like. Much as I would love to fit into half of what's in that chest, I'll never be in the shape I was in when I was your age.” Motherhood has given Willimina curves that will never go away again, not that she minds.

If Amani has a more or less permanent expression at the moment, it’s more one of awkward self-amusement at finding herself in a position she never really expected to be. But she is the one choosing it! She accepts the tea with smiled thanks and goes about sweetening it to her liking, glancing over at the chest Willimina indicates. “Alright, though I might need some help deciding…” Then she blinks and looks the caravan leader over with a bemusedly critical eye. “You don’t look so differently shaped from me, Willa,” she notes, not really aware herself of what childbearing can do to a body. Yet.

Willimina chuckles over the rim of her tea cup. “We are similarly shaped, I'll give you that. But my children have made me a bit more…voluptuous than I used to be. Don't think I mind, however. Because I don't, it's just a fact of life.” And it doesn't seem her husband minds either, so there's that, too. “I promise I wasn't being self deprecating.” A sip of tea later and the subject is changed somewhat. “There's a black and gold number in that chest that might suit you perfectly. Everything ties on and comes off with ease, one scintillating piece at a time.” A wicked and shameless sort of chuckle comes from Willa now, a bit of mischief gleaming in her eyes.

Amani is still looking Willimina over and still not quite seeing it…though she’ll probably come to a point in her own life where she’ll finally figure out where the changes happen. She chuckles too, nodding to the other woman’s assurances and sipping some more of her own tea. Dark brows lift in consideration of the outfit that’s suggested. “I’m sure he’d like those colors. Though I’m thinking he’d very much appreciate something green…” She smirks a little, noting the nature of Willa’s chuckling and the impishness that glints in her gaze. “You’ve done this yourself.” A statement rather than a question, though she shouldn’t be surprised by the notion. “What I’m wanting to do.”

WIllimina winks again and is sure there’s something in there that will suit Amani’s wants and needs. “Well, we’ll find something I’m sure. Go on and have a look.” WIllimina sips her tea and gives Amani a chuckle. “I have, one must know how to keep one’s husband happy after all.” There’s a knowing little smirk that follows, one can’t simply have two dancers married and not have some sort of kinky dancing in the package. No. That simply doesn’t do.

Smirking deeply, Amani sips at her own tea once more and then rises to move over to the chest. “Well, I suppose I’ll never be able to know exactly what that’s like,” she muses aloud as she unlatches the thing and lifts the lid. “It’d be nice, though, to come close. Someday.” A touch of wistfulness there that is quickly borne away as she starts to peruse. She lifts outfits curiously, looking them over in their folded states but setting those aside that don’t fit what she deems a suitable color scheme. She’s looking for that black and gold one Willa suggested…and anything green.

Willimina gives Amani a slightly sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’ll get close someday, and besides, it’s the feeling of what’s between you that’s important, not the type of relationship contract.” She’d feel the same about Tallel if the marriage part were there or not. Amani will find a good deal of dancing outfits in the trunk, ranging from conservative to downright sinful in appearance. And in every color known to man. Willimina watches, as though sifting through memories brought up by each outfit revealed. It's a warm feeling, and one that Willa hopes will be passed on through Amani’s own experiences.

Amani sighs but doesn’t comment more on the matter, save for a slight furrow that appears between her brows and then dissolves away. It’s the more blush-worthy outfits that catch her eye, and after a time, she’s narrowed it down to three - the black and gold, one that’s deep purple with black trim and gold and silver beadwork, and a forest green affair with silver accents, many of them chain-like. “Well,” she says with a little clearing of her throat, showing Willimina her choices, “you said that…the dancing can depend on what I choose to wear?”

“Aye it can, or what you wear can depend on what you intend to dance, too. For your first, I’d go for the former.” Willa moves closer and takes a critical look at the three outfits Amani has chosen. “The green and the Black are going to be your best bets for what I have in mind to teach you, though the purple could work for it too, to a degree.” She looks thoughtful for a moment and sighs. “You can take all three, a gift to you from me. But I’d choose either the black or the green for your current goal.”

Amani finds herself leaning toward the black, and is about to say as much when Willimina tells her that she can take them all. She blinks up at the caravan leader almost owlishly. “A gift? Willa…” She doesn’t exactly protest, but she does blush again. “Are you sure? You’re already giving your time to teach me…” Alright, she protests a little. It’s something old, still ingrained in the young Weyrwoman from a past life.

Willa holds up her hands and shakes her own head in protest. “It’s fine Amani, I wasn’t keeping them and they’d look good on you. Besides, I thought buttering up Weyrwomen was a good way to do business?” She’s joking of course, but what does a little political humor hurt? Chuckling she smiles at the young Weyrwoman. “We’re friends, and you are Zingari, whatever you need or want is at your disposal Amani. And perhaps we can talk about a small trading venture I’m interested in.”

“That is a good point,” Amani counters to Willimina’s joking, another deep smirk tilting her lips. Mention of a trading venture brings about a small chuckle as the Weyrwoman carefully gathers the three outfits together. “Whiskey and tea?” she questions amusedly. “I met Taurie; she mentioned something about there being interest in a little venture. Not necessarily those things; I just sort of figured what she mentioned and what you want to talk about are probably linked.”

Willimina won't pretend she's not a little shocked when Amani hits the nail on the head so to speak. “Aye, whiskey and tea amongst other things. Timo has been getting orders from down south too, mostly Evka, but others are ordering too. Taurie's quite the business woman from what I gather.”

“If he’s going to be filling orders to have brought south, maybe I’ll start doing that, too. But…I like coming to visit and bringing things back with me,” Amani says. “At any rate, yes, Taurie is pretty impressive. I’m doing a trial run with her as my assistant, actually. I like her, though…she can be a little naive about the darker side of the world, I think.” The Weyrwoman sits again, picking up her tea to sip a bit more. “So, is the idea to establish sea-bound trade between the Zingari and Southern through her father’s shipping lines? Working out of…somewhere like Keroon Sea Hold, maybe?”

Willimina nods, impressed it seems. “Ambitious too, from the sounds of it.” Willimina has quite enjoyed the correspondence between herself and the young merchant woman. “And some are just blind to darkness, and seemingly never touched by it.” Shrugging, Willimina then nods to Amani’s next. “That’s the idea, yes, and some of the sister clans will be dealing out of their nearest seaport. It’s tentative for the moment, but I do wish to have a solid trade deal between the Zingari, this shipping route and Southern. Some things just don’t fare well when shipped by dragon.”

Amani nods her agreement with the assessment of Taurie as ambitious. Though to Willimina’s next, she just looks thoughtful. “That could work for or against a person,” she muses. “Or both.” Another nod for the matter of some things not enduring dragon transport too well. “Ships have their dangers too, obviously,” she points out, and gives a small, considering smile. “So those scant few things that can’t go well by ship can hopefully be conveyed that way, while everything else can go by land and sea…and the Zingari can soon enjoy some profit with a connection in Southern beyond a few of their own Impressing.”

“You’re not wrong there.” Willimina says of Amani’s first. Nodding to her next, Willimina echoes “Obviously.” She narrows her eyes shrewishly when Amani continues, a smirk upon her lips. “You’d have made a fine Caravan Leader, y’know?” Chuckling she moves back to her tea and takes a sip. “I won’t lie, profit is definitely what drives this.” She shrugs with a smile and continues drinking her tea. “You can slip into Lillia’s section of the yurt and try those on if you like.”

“I don’t know if I ever would’ve had the ambition,” Amani counters amusedly, and laughs a little to Willimina’s next. “Well, that’s the point for traders, right? Maybe your neighbors might want in on it, too. The Reika,” she suggests, and polishes off a bit more of her own tea as well. Then it’s back to the matter of the outfits, and she consider for a moment without blushing for a change. “Alright.” Rising, she takes up the scanty clothing and disappears into Lillia’s “room.” She decides to try on the black and gold outfit first, and after a few moments, there’s a soft bit of abashed chuckling, followed by a bit more silence and rustling about before the goldrider emerges. “This one’s a little confusing, Willa,” she admits, and while it would appear she’s gotten in mostly right…there are a few things offset from where they should probably be.

Willimina might disagree with Amani’s first, seeing how the woman has taken a shine to being a Weyrwoman, which is different, but not entirely. Case in point: Willimina hadn’t thought of discussing the trade possibilities with the Reika. “You may be onto something there. I’ll have to have a chat with Forin about it.” Willimina jots down a note for herself while Amani goes to change and has it mostly finished by the time Amani comes out. Tossing sand on the hide so the ink will dry, Willa chuckles and moves to help Amani with the outfit. She hasn’t got it all wrong, but there’s definitely a few scarves that need adjusting. “There,” she says as she twitches the last one back into place, “And when it’s time for one to come off, you just slip it from the hook and eye and send it flying.” Demonstrating, Willimina shows Amani the small hook and eye that holds the scarf to the waistband of her skirt, and then detaches and reattaches it to the outfit.

Amani watches carefully as Willimina makes adjustments, taking note of how everything goes together so that she doesn’t make the same mistake twice. “Send it flying?” Is there a specific way to do that, or is it just a matter of flinging clothing aside? That, she can certainly do. “How do I do that and make it look like a dance?” That, she assumes, is the trick, no matter how provocative the outfit may look on its own.

Willimina chuckles and pulls one of the scarves and tosses it and it floats towards the ground in a billow of black. “Like so.” Feeling this may be a bit of a show moment rather than a tell moment, Willimina raises a finger and grabs a wrapped package from a different chest, disappearing into Lillia’s ‘room’ for a moment herself. WHen she returns, she wears the exact mimic of Amani’s outfit, saving hers is made of red and gold, and hugs curves slightly rounder than Amani’s own. She scribbles something on a scrap of hide, sending it off with her gold, whom she wakes from a seemingly deep slumber. With a grouchy croon, the gold goes and Willa turns to Amani. “I sent for Timo. He’ll sit outside and play for us while I teach you.”

Amani observes with rapt curiosity, smirking with slight bemusement when Willimina disappears. The smirk becomes a smile when the caravan leader reemerges in an outfit of her own. At mention of what just got sent of with the grumpy gold, she blushes a little again, chuckling. “Gracious of him,” she says, and then decides to take a try and tossing a scarf herself. It doesn’t seem to float as gracefully as Willa’s, and she passes it off as not knowing quite what to do yet, stepping away to retrieve it. “Is there a specific sort of music for wearing something like this, is does it more have to do with the dance you mean to perform?”

“There's music tailored for dances like these, yes, but they can be done to anything with a saucy rhythm.” Willimina retrieves Amani's other scarf, the one she'd tossed earlier and hands it to Amani as well. “Go on and hook those back on and you'll hear what I mean in a moment.” And sure enough, a small smattering of minutes later, there's the scrape of Timo's chair settling outside the yurt and the twang of his guitar as he tunes the strings. Soon, the sultry notes the guitar provides fill the air paired with the occasional rattle of a tambourine. Willimina smiles, as the song is one of her favorites and turns towards Amani. “The first thing you need to do is let the music fill you up and set the tone. Close your eyes and listen.”

At least Amani can say she knows what a “saucy rhythm” is because of the Zingari. She does as Willimina instructs, smiling to herself when she hears Timo somewhere without, getting ready. Her expression is earnest and just a shade nervous as Willa faces her, but she nods and takes a settling breath. “Alright.” And she closes her eyes and makes herself lay aside all her other concerns for the moment, shushing nagging thoughts and worries until all that remains is the music and how it makes her feel. It takes a while, not being something she’s terribly used to doing, but it happens in time. Her eyes flutter open to find Willimina once more, and she gives a little nod. “I think…I’m ready.”

Sometime while Amani was listening, Willimina moved behind her, and waited, ever patient. Once Amani gives the go ahead, Willimina settles her hands on Amani's hips for guidance and shows her how to do a slow, hypnotic figure 8 with her hips, hands guiding ‘If you can remember how to move your hips this way, you can learn any of our dances.” Willa removes her hands from Amani's hips and moves in front of her. “Mirror me.” Willimina then begins a series of slow figure eights, arms rising above her head so that the movement sends a subtle undulation throughout her whole frame.

Amani is a little surprised to find Willimina behind her, not quite comprehending why until the other woman’s hands are on her hips in order to guide. Once more the goldrider finds her cheeks heating - not from embarrassment, but because what Willa is instructing her in is a sort of motion she’s never put conscious effort into. It takes a bit for the stiffness to leave her movements, but once she allows herself to remember the context in which she does know this sort of movement and blends it into what’s being asked of her, she finally manages. Remembering why she wants to learn this helps, and fortunately isn’t too hard, all things considered.

She’s watching intently when Willa moves in front of her again, nodding when she’s told to mirror the other woman. It’s the same motion, just involving her arms, which adds in some awkwardness again until she picks up on how Willa is handling it. There’s a questioning look for the caravan leader as she goes, though she assumes she’ll be told if she needs to adjust something.

Amani would be assuming correctly, and there are corrections made now and again. Willimina will take as long as it takes to show Amani how it’s done, from the slower parts of the dance, to the more …provocative, and how to get the scarves to float when tossed. It’s an enjoyable time, teaching again and it leaves Willimina invigorated and maybe a bit inspired again. “You should be able to drop his jaw with that.” She says as the music outside slows to a stop and Willimina moves to pour them both some water, gathering the few practice scarves removed from the clothing from the floor on her way. “If it doesn’t move him to passion, he’s a blind man.” Chuckling she sets the scarves aside and goes about retrieving that water.

It’s particularly pleasing for Amani when she starts getting the hang of making the scarves float. When Willimina retrieves them, she goes about replacing her own before trailing after the caravan leader, needing water quite a bit herself. “I’ll make sure to practice,” the goldrider promises with a grin. “I’m not sure when I’ll get to see him again next, so hopefully I’ll have plenty of time…” Something occurs to her that draws a slight crease of consideration between her brows. “If I do this and there’s no music…should I just think the music in my mind?”

Willimina grins as she pours the water, offering a glass to Amani first. After a long drink she’s nodding. “Aye, every song has a rhythm, a beat, if you can keep track of that in your mind, the dance becomes easier, for one and then you can do it any time, music or no.” She refills her glass and leaves the pitcher on the table, open for use. “It’s been awhile since I’ve done that one.” She’s a little tiny bit breathless, heartbeat rapid. She’s definitely more leader than dancer these days. But it was invigorating too and that shows in the light shining in her eyes. The woman truly does love dance.

Amani promptly downs half of her glass, quietly amused at the workout dancing has turned out to be. Observing Willimina’s slight breathlessness and the light in her eyes she asks, “Do you think you’ll ever get back to dancing on festival nights? Or will it just be for yourself from now on, you think?”

Willimina chuckles, shoulders rising and falling in a deep shrug. “I’m basically retired. Running the caravan takes up a good deal of my time and mothering the rest.” The smile she beams at Amani after is quite indicative of just how not bothered she is by this. “I think it is only for myself these days if I’m honest.” And one can only juggle so many jobs. That much had been serious. “I have a good troupe of dancers to follow in my stead though, so I’m happy with it.” More water is ingested and Willa just sort of sits, looking pleased.

Amani can do nothing but nod in understanding. “I’m all the more grateful you’ll take the time to teach me, then,” she counters with a smile, and finishes her water. Another curious glance is tilted Willimina’s way. “Will there be another performance night coming up sometime soon?”

Willimina nods. “If you are willing to learn my dear, we are always happy to teach.” At Amani’s query, Willimina nods. “Aye, one tomorrow night and then every other night next seven. Summer is our peak season.” Willimina sets her glass aside and moves back a bit closer to Amani. “Is that you saying you might stay awhile? I can have a yurt or wagon set up for you if you like?”

“Oh, no, I can’t stay. Much as I wish I could,” Amani answers, thought her smile is grateful. “I have a Weyr to run.” Something she still seems unused to saying. “But I do mean to come for just a night, if I can manage it. Maybe…with someone in tow.” She gives a little grin at that, then stands and stretches a bit. “I’d better change out of this. I’ve got to catch up with Xanthee once I leave here, if she’s not caught up in too much when I find her…” And trotting about the Weyr in a Zingari dancer’s garb is probably not a good idea!

Willimina nods in understanding, after all leadership is something the pair share in common. “Aye, well it was definitely a wonderful surprise, you dropping in. It was good to see you Amani. Let's both get changed.” After all, there's some time left in the day yet, and Willimina has things to do that she can't running around half naked. Clothes are changed and goodbyes said, and when Willimina returns, instead of putting her own dancer's outfit away, she sets it aside for later. Then, she goes about her evening, happy to have helped Amani, but worried about a certain Southern Brown rider.

Add a New Comment