Who

H'rik, Doji

What

Drills start way too early, but H'rik and Doji catch up some afterwards.

When

It is sunrise of the seventh day of the eleventh month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Firestone Shed

OOC Date 31 Dec 2017 06:00

 

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Firestone Shed

Sacks abound under the covering that keeps them from the infrequent Igen rains. The air reeks with the acrid taste of firestone as it sits. One side of the shed has loose stone, just waiting for weyrlings to bag it.

It is the thirty-seventh day of Autumn and 69 degrees. It is hot. Hot, hot, hot. Rukbat bakes the desert. Temperatures soar.


Whirlwind's return to Igen is heralded by the sun creeping above the horizon, turning the sands golden. Wendryth led his Wing in, elated despite the early hour - he loves flying, he loves Threadfighting, and he even loves drills. Yep, even pre-dawn ones! Other people maybe less so, and even H'rik was looking a bit weary as he debriefed and then dismissed the riders in the Weyrbowl, before heading to the firestone shed to put back some unused chunks from his bag. They ran a light flaming drill today - the Weyr's stock of the stuff is on H'rik's mind all too often - and the man pauses in the shed, gaze sweeping first the sacks at one side, and then the piles of loose stone at the other. He…might also be stood right in the doorway if anyone else is trying to come in.

There are many things that Raktraeth loves, as his brother is probably fully aware by now. Sunlight is pretty high up on that list, along with sleep, and so there was a good deal of grumbling from the behemoth brown as the forest stirred into early activity and a sense of everything just being wrong. Looks like somedragon woke up on the wrong side of the couch this morning. Doji had less complaining herself and their performance was nothing out of the ordinary. She also finds herself in the firestone shed, a bit before her 'leader, but she had a bit of head start getting there and is tucked into a corner beside the door, rummaging through a few of the smaller bins that definitely don't contain firestone. Muttering as she does so. There's a half filled bag of stone just dropped right next to her feet.

H'rik squints at something in the loose pile and steps towards it; so focused on whatever it is that's caught his eye, the toe of his boot catches the edge of Doji's half-filled bag and he stumbles, staying upright but wobbling forwards a couple of steps. "Ack!" Finding himself still standing and not in a heap on the floor, he puts a hand on a sturdy-looking pile of stone and takes a quick breath. "Shards, Doji, sorry for nearly falling on you, there." Why does he feel the need to apologise? Unclear, but he's turned his head, though not the rest of him, to look back and down at his wingmate.

Focus is something that Doji has plenty of, even at this early hour. It's not until H'rik is practically tripping over right beside her, that she actually notices that she's not alone. Startled, there's a bit of metallic clinging as she abruptly stops rummaging through the canister and shoves it back against the others. Her hand goes out to try and help stabilize the suddenly semi-falling clutchmate and out of the hand goes flying a little spool of thread. Whatever is causing H'rik to apologise is probably the same unexplainable thing that is causing Doji to blush even though she was just minding her own business standing there. "It's uh, not a problem. Did you need something, H'r— Weyrleader?" At least she's not saluting.

H'rik has recovered enough that he can remove his hand from the firestone, but he looks down at his feet to check they're beneath him. That's when he notices the spool of thread that's bumped into one boot, and he lowers himself down to pick it up carefully. "You can call me H'rik," he tells Doji with a wry smile, before he holds out the spool towards her, turning his hand so his palm faces upwards, the spool resting in the middle of it. "I was just coming to bring some firestone back. Managed not to use all of it." He's managed to hold on to the mostly-empty bag in the other hand, despite his trip, and gives it a little wriggle to show that is, indeed, why he's there. "Same for you, or…?" He glances down at the spool curiously.

It's a good thing that H'rik managed to find the spool by his boots, because Doji's busy looking in the other direction. She'll pop up quickly from her half-crouch searching position once he holds out the missing spool. "Thanks." And good thing it's a bit dark in the shed so it's not as obvious how red she still is. "We didn't use all of our's" miraculously. Grumpy Trae was letting out some pretty large flames during drills. "But found out the bag we got had a busted seam." There's a frown as she waves down to the sack at her feet. It's clearly closed, but a few smaller chunks of firestone have fallen out from the side after that unexpected kick the bag so recently received. "So… I was going to fix it." Hence the spool she's reclaimed now and the needle that appears in her other hand from one of those many, many pockets in her jacket.

The low light also throws shadows over the way H'rik's smile grows more amused. "Raktraeth's good at using firestone well," he'll comment, before he looks down at Doji's firestone sack when she mentions the rip. "Damn. Did anything spill during drills?" He didn't notice anything, hence the question, but maybe he missed it. It was dark, after all. With the spool handed back over, it frees his hand up so he can set his own bag down and open it up, revealing the leftover chunks. He seems lighthearted as he works, then realises perhaps he's being too formal. "So, um, how are you?"

"Only a little," Although a little is still terrifying considering if it happened mid-toss during a fall, somebody in the wings below might be too busy ducking threadfall to watch out for falling chunks of firestone. Which is why Doji wasn't just going to stick the faulty sack in a pile for one of the weyrlings to get to eventually. Not when she knew there was thread about and could fix it herself. Formal and work is something that is a-ok with this particular brownrider. Especially when work can over-ride any need to be particularly formal. She'll grab a seat on one of the full sacks of firestone and empty out her own sack into a neat little pile so she can begin to inspect just how bad the damage is. She blinks at H'rik's question. "Me? I'm ah, good. Yeah." Oh the automatic response to one of the most frequently asked small-talk question. "And you? And Wendryth?"

H'rik looks like he's weighing up whether he should say something about being careful, checking bags, etc. etc., but he apparently comes down on the side of, 'these things happen; they won't happen again' and moves on from the topic. Anyway, Doji is sat there fixing the sack. The man starts putting his unused chunks onto the piles of unsorted stone, with a little chuckle to himself at something. If he looks a bit disappointed at Doji's automatic reply to his attempt at small-talk, he hides it quickly enough with a polite expression, looking at what he's doing so that he isn't staring at her. "Yeah, good. Now the eggs are hatched it's sort of a relief, I think Wendy was going to burn himself out trying to look after them as well as everything else there was to do." The firestone makes soft thuds as he stacks it, trying not to make the pile too unstable.

Doji is a lot less awkward when she has something to do and isn't able to focus on the internal monologue of 'OMG WHY DID I SAY THAT!!!'. She settles quickly into her temporary role of seamstress, threading the needle with ease and getting down to business. "Has Wendryth been checking on them since them any since they hatched? Raktraeth's taken to sunning in the Northern Bowl and I'm not believing when he says it's just cause the sun is best over there." There's a little bit of an eyeroll at that, and then a bit of a smile as she's remembering another of Wendryth's particular quirks. "How much of his poetry did you have to listen to while on the sands?"

H'rik is on the last rock, and it's with the utmost care that he balances it on a stack of other chunks. Wobble, wobble. His hands hover either side of the stack as he watches to see if it'll topple. "Oh yeah. I think now he can't directly look after them they don't take up as much of his time, but he definitely loves 'em." He glances over at Doji when she mentions Raktraeth's sunning habits, a curious "oh?" prompting for more information on that. As to poetry - now it's H'rik's turn to roll his eyes. "Oh yeah. Lots of stuff about how his eggs would hatch new fighters, a mighty brood, how beautiful and motherly the gold was…" He sticks his tongue out in a fake sick gesture, but he's grinning.

"Oh, and did you think to write them down for you know… prosterity's sake?" Doji's got a bit of a grin on her face though it might be hard to see what with her mostly looking down at the sack she's working on, although she'll glance up every so often. "It sounds like it'd be such a shame to lose poetry as good as that to the sands of time…" As for her own dragon's habits, she gives a shrug. "He likes watching things grow." And since it's not like there's much else growing in Igen's deserty weyr, Weyrling dragons it is. "Plus… our ledge overlooks the training grounds."

Now it's H'rik's turn to flush, though it's not as vibrantly red as his clutchmate's blushing thanks to his tanned skin. "I - uh -" He can't think of a witty retort, so he'll just look over at Doji with a look half amused, half daggers. All in good spirit, though. "Maybe some things are best left as rumours and myths?" He finally thinks up something to say on that, before changing topics clunkily. "Ah! Yes. Huh. Sounds like he'd be a good weyrlingmaster. Or a clutch dad. I can imagine him lying there while all his babies climb on him." Now there's an amusing image (that doesn't involve poetry).

Doji will let the poetry topic slide with nothing more than a quiet laugh, but then she gives a big sigh at the suggestion that Trae would make both a good weyrlingmaster OR clutch dad. "Don't give him ideas. I'm not sure if he'd be more excited about having actually caught a gold and sired a clutch or the fact that he'd have an excuse to just lounge on the warm sands for large periods of time." As for weyrlingmaster, she's frowning and it's not just at the bag. "And I don't think I'd be ready to be in charge of weyrling wings again. I don't envy Vosji." Definitely not at all.

H'rik's grin is for both his successful stacking of rocks, and Doji's amusement. "I doubt any gold'd complain if she had a clutch sire happy to babysit while she goes to do her thing." Look, upsides! And he's totally going to plant all sorts of ideas, because he's mean like that. That and it feels like old times, when they were candidates are didn't have as many worries in the world. "Yeah. It's a rough job. Someone's got to do it though, and Vosji's good. I think you have to sort of harden yourself up, so I can see why they were so strict with us."

As much as Doji might be complaining about H'rik planting ideas, it's not like those particular ones are anything new. The only one Doji will actually have to blame if the massive brown manages to actually succeed in his plans to catch is Raktraeth. It's in his nature after all. And considering who his sire is, it's in his bloodline. She just snorts at H'rik's upside though cause it doesn't seem like much of an upside. She also starts biting at her lip a bit at the mention of how rough the weyrlingmaster job is. "Yeah… yeah. But there are some things you can't harden yourself up to, you know?" Like all those loses. Those first 'Falls as a rider are when fatalities are most likely to happen. Not that they're completely uncommon in the wings either. But not as commonplace as for Mosaic.

H'rik focuses on folding up the now empty firestone sack to stow it away with the other empties. Watching what he's doing lets him not look at Doji as he considers what she says. "Yeah…you have to feel something I guess. But if you got too close to everyone in a class…they say Weyrlingmaster isn't a job people stay in for life." So morose! Having tucked the bag away neatly, he finally turns to face Doji again, leaning back against part of the shed wall. "Sorry. Morbid thoughts seem to be my thing at the moment." The face he pulls is apologetic.

Doji raises an eyebrow at H'rik's confessions to morbid thoughts as she continues to work on her sewing. It's a straight line. Doesn't really need too much attention now, right? "I thought morbid thoughts were my thing. You know, I worked pretty much every 'Fall as an apprentice, right?" So she's seen plenty enough of the aftermath even before being weyrling wingleader herself. "I could probably quote you numbers on how many injuries have happened for every turn of the current pass. When you start putting names to those faces…" She shudders a bit. Things get too real when they stop being data and start being lives.

H'rik's smile is more hollow now, as he says, "I think I've taken them on for you, now." He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back, and then pulls himself upright so he's not slouching around any more. "I've read enough hides about injuries…." He trails off there, shaking his head. "Sorry. My bad. I'm getting too good at making things just…damn depressing." He pauses, clearly trying to think of something to say that isn't about death. "Y'think the Wing would like some sort of social event? Go out drinking, something like that?"

Look, there's plenty of morbid thoughts to go around! They can all share! It seems like the carefree ones that are in much shorter supply. At least it seems like Doji's sewing is going well as she's reached the end of the tear and knots off the thread before giving a very thorough inspecting to that newly repaired seam and the rest of them as well. She just shrugs as for the apology. "It's not hard to do. Make things depressing." Especially accidentally. She's done that enough. As for the social event, she tilts her head slightly. "Have you met our wing? I'm sure like half of them won't object to any excuse for free alcohol."

"Tell me about it," H'rik agrees, a sigh expelling some of his guilt at making the conversation so morose. Maybe it's just too early in the morning. His mouth quirks in a half smile when Doji airs her thoughts on a social. "Good point. I'm sure I could pay for a round or two for the Wing. Maybe go out somewhere away from Igen…." There's the seed of an idea there for him to work on in the future. As for the right now - sunlight is peeking into the shed's entrance, and H'rik glances out. "I think it's about time for some klah. Y'wanna come join me?"

And now whose fault is it that they're up and about so early in the morning now? It wasn't Doji that called the pre-dawn drills… but she does seem at least satisfied with her handywork. That sack she repaired is going back into the stacks of empties to wait for weyrlings to come around and fill it up at some point. It doesn't take too long for her to clean up the bits and pieces that had been emptied out. As for where they might go, she only has one thought. "Definitely not High Reaches! It's about to be winter there!" And thought of all that snow makes this desert girl shudder. She's got her vote in for somewhere warm early. As for the offer of klah, she nods. "Klah sounds good. We got a long day ahead of us after all." But everything's better with klah, right?

"Ista? Cocktails on the beach there, right?" H'rik's grin implies a joke - though come to think of it, an actual nice tropical beach with some alcoholic drinks some sound pretty appealing! He's got a certain distant, whimsical look in his eyes. Yes…somewhere hot (but not Igen hot, sorry Igen). In answer to Doji's comment of a long day ahead, he'll give a sheepish smile, before making a gesture with his arm, inviting her to leave first into the morning sun that's already beating down outside. He'll follow out and fall into step - and will try his best to keep the conversation a bit more upbeat, promise!

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