And here A'lira is again, still waiting for those danged medicines. Thanks to a game-playing Kyprioth, he's got himself an extra day here, and realizes it's the perfect time to see Amani and her youngling dragon. He decides the best possible way to get this going is to wander into the Upper Bowl in an attempt to see if his young friend is out and about; so recently graduated himself, he well knows how these things go. Kyprioth gambols alongside, sniffing here and there, enjoying the sounds and smells.

Amani and Zymuraith are indeed out and about, with the young queen being a bit more eager to venture beyond the bounds of the training grounds. Even so, there's an air of wariness about her, and she peers about as though to make sure someone or something that would be better avoided isn't in sight. Seemingly satisfied, she meanders forward with Amani at her side. She spots Kyprioth in short order, and whatever she notes about the visiting brown has Amani peering his way curiously. Seeing A'lira pulls pretty features into a set of honest and pleased surprise as she starts his way herself, encouraging Zymuraith to move with her. "I was wondering when you might happen down this way again!"

Kyprioth is all pleasant chirping welcome — he vaguely remembers Amani, a small woman who gives good scratches — and flares his wings in welcome, while A'lira offers his friendly smile, moving to meet the weyrling and her new charge. "How could I not?" He chuckles as they meet, Kyprioth prancing happily along to extend his nose in greeting to the little gold. "I saw you Impress, you know. You prolly heard the Zingari screamin' their fool heads off when you got her." He takes a moment to admire her. "Innit she a beaut."

Amani grins widely as she comes to a stop before A'lira, shaking her head. "Honestly, I wasn't aware of much else when she came up to me," the erstwhile Zingari girl admits, "though I can picture that pretty clearly now that you mention it." She turns to look at Zymuraith, who has all four feet planted solidly as she peers amber-eyed up at Kyprioth, waiting for his nose to get closer before she ventures her own out to whuffle at him. She greets him with a cool autumn breeze scented with caramel and wood smoke, the source of which glows to white, vivid life as a bonfire contained in an iron cauldron amidst an expanse of black and white canvas tents. « Hello. I don't believe you're from here, » she notes softly, and Amani smiles for her reception of the Igenite brown both outward and inward. "She really is. And growing to show it off more and more every day."

Kyprioth snuffles gently, wafting cool autumnal breezes, lemongrass, and wildflowers across the young queen's mind. « I am from Igen, little Zymuraith, and I am pleased to meet you. » He is, indeed, extremely pleased, for she is yet too small to make him the slightest bit nervous. A'lira bends a fond eye upon his brown, watching the young brown — not much older than she is — attempt to be all adult and serious. "They really did. Brought a bunch m'self." His chuckle is rich and soft. "They had a party, too. A lot of fun, even if I had way too much fun there." He rubs at his bald head, a little sheepish. "Relieved t'see you ain't scared of dragons no more. And got the queen, no less."

Zymuraith considers Kyprioth's greeting, gleaning the brown's name from Amani's mind as she processes the scents she receives from him. « Igen… That is where the desert is! » she notes, clearly pleased with herself for remembering. A tent opens and brings them within, and suddenly the bonfire's luminance give way to the light of two moons, the tent sealing to reveal itself to be filled with sand, gently sloping dunes glowing silver in the twilight. « Mine has told me much about the desert. It means a great deal to her, and I hope to see it someday. » And the fact that Kyprioth comes from there as well helps her to be a bit more at ease with him. "I'm glad," Amani says of A'lira bringing some Zingari along. "I was wondering who they'd be end up asking aside from S'ayde." Who she still never managed to meet but heard plenty about. She laughs at the news of the party, giving a little shake of her head. "I don't know if there's such a thing when it comes to the Zingari." Too much fun, that is. As for not being afraid of dragons, there's another shake of her head. "There's no way I could be now. I hoped for her…and she's so far beyond anything I could've imagined. All of it is."

Such a wonderful place in the mind, Zymuraith presents Kyprioth; with delight, he snuffles about, all happy puppy wriggling amongst the sand and dunes. « Yes. » He confirms, wriggling and comfortable in this dark mindscape, fascinated with the moons. « You should see… » The Oasis, a bit of lush green amid the dry, dry heat, appears; within it, a tall dark presence, gentle and soothing, spreading oil over a dry hide. Sitting with him to see the moons and the stars and everything, a soft rough voice in his own mind, spinning silly tales to calm an overeager young dragon. "Well. I wasn't about to say no to Igraine…" Or whoever might have asked him. The Zingari have always been good to him, and it was all too easy a task they asked of him. He puts a hand to his brown's shoulder, soothing the hide abently and chuckling softly. "You an' me both — I ain't even think I'd be like this, and I wasn't half so worrit about 'em. Just, ain't never liked bein' close, til I got my own. Now it don't matter."

It's an intriguing addition Kyprioth makes to the sands in Zymuraith's desert tent, the oasis something she knows Amani has told her about but hasn't ventured to add thus far. She blinks at A'lira as she's present with his image and presence, rumbling softly. « I will see, » she decides, knowing just how willing her bonded will be to share the desert with her when they are able, months from now. Amani nods in the wake of A'lira's words, understanding all too well. "I think…I'd forgotten what being loved felt like until her," she confesses softly, looking up at A'lira with a small smile. "I haven't felt it since my mother died. Now I know it's something that I'll never be without again. And I know so many of the others are looking out for us, too, and we can't help but do the same for them. So much different that just surviving, or even being among the Zingari."

Oh, A'lira knows all to well about that. "The unshakable foundation from which all things grow. Or somethin' like that, my mother said, when I tole her." He shrugs, affable and unruffled. Kyprioth is all encouragement to Zymuraith's assertion. « Yes. We will show you. » He's all too agreeable to these kinds of excursions; they make them as often as they might, with all their duties laid out before them like a never-ending sea of hidework. "Like you got a big family where you ain't had it before. An in the middle, that one person who ain't ever givin' up on you." He's been left behind and left for dead one time too many, but Kyprioth? That one dude is plainly going nowhere. "I hate knowin' your ma ain't here to see this. But I think she would be proud-a you. I am."

A'lira's words strike a chord with Amani that resonates in her heart in an unexpected manner, eliciting a sound that's something like a thick bit of laughter. She drops her eyes a moment, nodding almost to herself. It pulls Zymuraith from Kyprioth for now, the desert disappearing around him to give way to the flickering of the snowy-flamed bonfire as she withdraws to Amani. Her gaze glittering blue, she croons as she curls herself around her bonded, making Amani grin as she puts her arm around the young gold's neck. "Thank you, A'lira," she says, and for a moment looks like she might want to hug him but isn't quite sure how to go about doing that, given the way Zymuraith has her. "I hope she would've been." She's quite for a moment, pensive. "Sometimes I wonder what my father would think. I never knew him. I don't know if he's still alive, who he was, where he was from…but still, part of me tries to guess."

A'lira would willingly accept a hug from her; it's unlikely the girl means anything other than gentle affection. He instead scratches at an itch along the neckridge of his own dragon, who crouches happily down in the sand, content to watch the remaining moonscape Zymuraith sets out for him. He smiles warmly at her expression, though — it's so cute when people want to snuggle him like he's a giant teddy bear. The mention of fathers has him wrinkling his nose a little, though he keeps his thoughts and emotions well secured for the sake of the littlest of them. "That had to be hard."

"Not really hard, just…an unanswered question I've always carried with me," Amani says, running a hand along one of Zymuraith's headknobs in almost absent affection. "You can't really miss what you never had. I just always figured it had to have been different than what I knew with my stepfather." Finally, she shrugs. "Anyway. None of that matters now. But she does. And what we've got ahead of us does." She regards A'lira thoughtfully, assessing, with Zymuraith following suit. "Everything going alright with you, A'lira? And Kyprioth?"

"Naw, you can't. You'll wonder, but — I don't think you'll let it freeze you." A'lira is sure of that much, at least, and leans into Kyprioth's shoulder, assured in the brown's love even as Kyprioth is utterly sure of him. "Yeah, you right. She is gonna be all your heart, Amani. Found out Kyp was more'n enough in so many ways as we grew up together." He looks up at Kyp's idly wheeling near eye, once-lidded in contentment. "Us? We gettin' along. Growin' up together. Findin — oh, everything we can be together." His grin is full of that soft wonder a young rider often gets when discussing his favorite subject — his dragon. "Yeah, it is. I'm learnin' to be a dragonhealer."

Amani shakes her head, though it's in order to agree with A'lira's first. The wondering has never stopped her from anything before, and it's not about to. "She already is," the dark-eyed girl notes with a smile, touching her forehead to Zymuraith's nose as the little gold lifts it toward her with a croon. For someone who'd forgotten what being loved was like, as she's confessed to already, that void was readily filled. She knows that even if they come into conflict, that wholeness of heart is never going away. She grins back at A'lira for his last. "Really? Seems like a natural thing for you and he to do. It suits you."

All is as it should be with this pair, and A'lira is deeply relieved that Amani has found her place, finally. And as deep a joy as he knows with his own bondmate Kyprioth croons happily, encouragingly. Such a deep bond is always a lovely thing. "So they tell me; so they tell me." But oh, how he misses lazy nights and easy days — relatively speaking, for a Healer's life is always hectic in one way or another. Kyprioth cranes his head around, spotting that healer-type they were supposed to be meeting. "I betta go meet him. He enough to upset the calmest." There's a laugh, firmly repressed (can't go corrupting the youth just yet!) and he reluctantly upends himself off Kyprioth's shoulder. "Would she mind if I hugged you?" A'lira asks, thoughtfully. "Kinda weird not to, under the circumstances, but it's all how she feels."

Zymuraith follows Kyprioth's gaze toward the man A'lira presently speaks of, Amani following suit a half moment later. A'lira's last, however, draws her attention right back, and a light blush inevitably rises to her cheeks. "No, she wouldn't." But it does make the young queen curious, especially since she's now observing the change in the color of her bonded's face. She uncurls from around Amani and watches with eyes fading to a light green as the girl draws closer to accept what A'lira offers.

A'lira pulls Amani into a gentle hug, holding her lightly against his chest for jut a moment, and drops an affectionate kiss atop her head. That's the fun of being so tall — just about everyone's short, even when they really aren't that short for normal-people sizes. "Well good. Be seein' you when I can. Feel free t'write if ya want." Letting her go, he offers Zymuraith a courteous bow, and with a final wave, is off to see the medicine wizard. Kyprioth offers the weyrlings a gentle croon before he, too, is off, opting to use those wings of his rather than walking across the Bowl. So much faster that way.