Who

K'vvan, N'cal

What

K'vvan is coming home to Arroyo, but N'cal has his own provision to add to the list of restrictions.

When

It is morning of the tenth day of the first month of the second turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Star Stones

OOC Date

 

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Star Stones

The climb up here on foot is steep, narrow stone steps carved high into the sandstone, and from the top the precipice-drop to the jagged-craggy stones far, far below is treacherous. It's a wide sweep of ledge, a dragonlength and a half jutting out from a rough cliff wall. The wind here is ceaseless, dusty-dry during daytimes and biting at night. But for those who brave the climb to this lookout perched high above the Weyr's bowl, the view from these sandy-red rocks is breathtaking. Igen stretches wide-wide-wide around, a vast expanse of deep blue lake and lush green swamp and the myriad rust-rich colours of desert and rock. The real purpose of this spot, though, is highlighted not in its view of what is below but its view of what is above. Three tall rocks stand, one balanced across the tops of the other two, at the focal point of the ledge, perpetually framing one slice of the desert sky beyond.

It is the seventieth day of Winter and 32 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.


Timor: moon4.jpg
Belior: moon8.jpg

Bright and sunny it may be, but that's of little consequence up at the Star Stones in winter. The breeze is slight but brisk, the view across the sky hazy with morning and woodfire smoke but clear down into the Bowl - a perfect atmosphere to aid wakefulness and thought. It isn't that N'cal hasn't been clear-headed lately. He just wants to be sure he's quite awake right this moment. He's never liked having to be the one to set down ground rules. But this falls to him now, and so this is where he's asked K'vvan to meet him. He and Iolarth strike similar poses, thoughtful and watchful, as they wait, the bluerider sipping at a cupful of fresh klah as he sits perched on an outcrop. He'll find no warmth from the sun, after all…not much.

Nadeeth's thoughts find Iolarth's first, wrapping around them with bright yellows and greens of greeting. « We come! » Heralded by rustles of silk, the emerald green comes into view and touches down gently. Sliding off her back, K'vvan looks much too awake this early in the morning. Perhaps that is because he has already been up for several hours and run around the whole of the lake on W'rin's bootheels. Little mark remains of the early morning exertions though, as the rider has bathed and changed. He must have just come from that bath as his short cropped hair is still damp even in the dryness of the desert. "Sir." He even salutes crisply.

Iolarth trumpets happily at Nadeeth's approach, fanning sky-hued wings eagerly in the bright sun as he hops back to afford the green a bit more room. « You return! » he exclaims, the breezes of his mind warm and quick as morning glints brightly off the pinions of the raptor circling high above spring forests. His rider, however, is decidely more low-key at the pair's arrival, returning the salute as he rises and gestures at K'vvan's coif with a touch of amusement. "K'vvan. Your hair's going to freeze," he states, then brandishes a thermos. "Klah?" Whether the offer is taken or not, the bluerider leans up against one of the stones. "So. Back you come," he says, nodding a little as he looks the greenrider over tip to toes. "Relieved?"

Joy spreads from those ribbons as they glow brightly with an inward light, not unlike the bright sunlight above. While the brown and bronze of Whirlwind had brought respectful distance from the dainty green, Nadeeth has no such reservations about this blue wingleader. With K'vvan off her neck she brushes right up next to Iolarth, her happiness clear. K'vvan reaches up to brush a hand across that short croped hair. "It dries quickly enough. Too short to form ice like the other did." Which makes one wonder why the greenrider kept it long for so long. His stance before N'cal is markedly changed. His posture is tall and straight, with perhaps a hint of pride in it. The gaze, when it meets N'cal's is clear of the darkness which always marked it. Clearly, his time in Whirlwind has been good for him. "Nadeeth was profoundly unhappy in Whirlwind. For her sake, yes. I could not be more grateful that W'rin has let us back."

"Good," is N'cal's short assessment. Observant as he is, those subtle changes in K'vvan are clear, and the bluerider digs into a pocket of his jacket, producing a newly-embroidered Arroyo patch. No wingsecond knot is forthcoming, though logically, it wouldn't be. "Your time away seems to have done you good," he observes, holding the patch out for the greenrider to take. "I would tell you 'welcome back,' but I'm sure you're aware not every rider on Arroyo would share the sentiment. Still, time can bring about many things." Folding his arms, he squares himself before K'vvan, blue-green gaze falling evenly on the greenrider. "I'm not going to lecture you, as I'm sure you've gotten your fill of that. There is, however, one thing I want to make abundantly clear."

"Whirlwind has a good reputation for a reason." K'vvan reaches out and takes that patch. Already the Whirlwind one is gone, almost as if K'vvan couldn't wait to cast it aside. "Ada probably threw a pot when she found out." Simple acceptance, K'vvan is use to being disliked. It's not like he tries to foster friendships. Silence now though, for N'cal to continue.

N'cal gives a short huff that could be laughter but falls slightly short, simply conveying dry amusement at the notion. "As long as it wasn't flying off her ledge, damaging her own property thusly is her business," he notes rather flatly. Then his tone gains the inflection of factuality once more. "It's clear you and Nadeeth belong on this wing, K'vvan. It suits you. However…" He doesn't come toe to toe with K'vvan, though he does come within just under an armlength. "If I hear any further complaints from the women of this wing of chauvinism or any other sort of mistreatment from you, I will see to it that you are sent on to Parhelion or Sandblast - Hogback, if it's bad enough - with little chance of return." He pauses, letting that sink in for a moment. "Morale is something we have to work to keep up; any rider endangering it from within will not be tolerated. I'm not asking you to befriend them or even apologize; there's no good in an apology not meant. But you will be civil, or you will not last. Am I understood?" Squared off thusly to K'vvan he remains until the greenrider responds, his gaze nearly unblinking.

K'vvan weighs that patch in his hand. "I can't promise to not be a bastard." It's simple honesty. His gaze shifts up to N'cal's calmly. "I can promise to do my best to stay sober, and keep a lid on a lot of what I think." The patch is slipped into his pocket. There is no way he's going to let that go now. Especially not with how bright Nadeeth's ribbons are. "Do you know if Trek is alright sir?"

"Even a bastard can keep a civil tongue in his head," N'cal answers with a thin, humorless smile. "Trust me - it's manageable." Even if it was Turns ago for him. "Though if what you promise is passes for civil, I'll take it." At the 'sir', N'cal makes a small gesture of dismissal and resumes his rocky perch. The question, however, takes a moment for him to answer. "She seems to be, outwardly. Much of the time. I…am worried about her. Kanyith will heal." But judging by the slight furrow to his brow, there are layers to this that N'cal isn't peeling back at the moment.

K'vvan ponders responding to that. But he holds it back, and simply nods his head. "Sir." A brush of his hand through his hair- perhaps he just didn't expect much better of a reception from N'cal. It's not like they were friends before all of this, and K'vvan's burned a whole pile of bridges behind him. "If I thought talking to her would help; I would."

They may not have been friends, but N'cal has never considered them enemies, at least. "She didn't handle your departure well," the bluerider states. "The consideration is appreciated, though. It would be from her end as well, perhaps. Were things different." Maybe it still would be. He isn't sure. "Well," he says finally, straightening from the concerned affect he'd lapsed into, "Anything more, K'vvan? Other things Iolarth and I ought to know?" Or he ought to, at least. Iolarth just seems content to stay cozied up next to his returned wingmate, content to have Nadeeth back.

Believe it or not, K'vvan doesn't have many enemies. Just a general disdain for other people and their feelings. A hesitation, "I've got some personal business that is taking me outside the weyr quite a bit. Off duty. Sweeps, drills and Thread comes first."

N'cal nods, scratching through the bit of beard on his chin as he notes K'vvan's hesitation. "Alright. If something keeps you, have Nadeeth let Iolarth know." K'vvan's personal business is none of his, and if the greenrider says it won't interfere with his duties, he'll trust that. "I'll let you be off then. Drills tomorrow afternoon." The Arroyo wingleader salutes the returning rider, dropping his hand with a nod. "Clear skies, K'vvan."

A last nod, with a slight salute to the wingleader. Turning, he smiles slightly seeing Nadeeth so cuddled up with the blue. "It is good to be home sir." Rather then pull Nadeeth away (Sorry N'cal, hope he didn't need Iolarth for a bit), K'vvan turns and walks down the rock stairway and out of sight.

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