Who

Th'res, F'kan

What

Friends run into each other briefly in the Living Caverns and discuss the latest tragedy to befall Southern.

When

It is midmorning of the twenty-second day of the eighth month of the sixteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Living Caverns, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 31 Mar 2019 04:00

 

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"Rough night?"
"Oh no…I slept like a baby."


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Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in a naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophobia. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about, candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next to the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the Weyr's youngest. The rich blue of the Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


Nice and cold, which is a far far cry from the usual hot of the Southern continent this winter morning. In the living cavern people are coming and going as the morning meal is in full swing, Th'res sitting at the Lynx table that long scarf of his wrapped around him like a colorful python so it doesn't drag on the floor. He is eating a heavy breakfast though the table is empty, other members of his wing off doing there duties.

Grim-faced, F'kan wanders into the Living Cavern, his blue eyes stormy with a deep furrow of his brow. Blonde hair dishevelled, yesterday's 5 o'clock shadow scruffing his chin and jaw. The reason for his locks being in disarray is quickly apparent as he absently runs a hand through it, a nervous tic of worry. He beelines towards the klah table, bypassing food with a faintly nauseous look, filling his mug with hot liquid as well as an obsene amount of sweetener. when he turns around, that red-head of Th'res' stands out like a beacon so he moves to join the Lynx wingleader, flopping into a chair with a grunt. "Hey," he says with the heaviest of sighs.

Th'res looks up at the dishelved brown rider and raises an eye brow questioningly before he motions to the table for him to sit. The food on his plate is piled high, as he is eating almost liked a starved man. Looking a little worse for wear himself, Th'res is still clean shaven and presentable just heavy circles under his eyes. He clears his throat after drowning a mouthful of food in Klah saying "Rough night?"

F'kan has to swallow hard against his gorge rising as he watches the way Th'res packs away the food, and helps it down with a sip of the burning liquid, trying to get rid of the faintly green palor to his winter pale skin. He scoffs at the bluerider's next, "Oh no…I slept like a baby." he replies most unconvincingly before once more scrubbing one hand through his battered coiffe.

Th'res nods and keeps eating, soon his plate is almost clean but he stops and sips his on hot Klah. Looking over the Brown rider he askes "How are your charges holding up?" Because he is weird not uncaring he also reaches into his pocket and slides some medicine the brown riders way saying "If you have an upset stomach."

"Some better than others," F'kan admits with a heavy sigh as he stares down into the dark liquid in his mug. The medicine is given a raised brow and a grim smile of thanks, "If the klah doesn't settle it, I will try it." Taking another long sip of his drink as he considers the recent events. "She's going to get better though," the brownrider says suddenly, "Quaverilth hasn't left Zymuraith's side although she doesn't acknowlege he's there, and all she keeps saying is that she's coming home. And I believe her." There's a slightly manic tone to the man's words, his blue eyes pleading with Th'res to agree with him.

Th'res just nods "Amani is a fighter, she will be just fine." His tone and demeanor are clearly rehearsed and crafted, but there is also a sad look in the blue riders eyes as well. He shakes his head and goes back to finishing his plate. Once it is finally cleared he leans back and absently starts running fingers over his scarf "I mean if she can survive you, she can survive anything.."

"Oh, I know she will, I wish everyone else would believe it as well," F'kan replies with a crooked grin shot in the bluerider's direction. And a chuckle after his last, "Hey, she was the one who gave me a chance, I would have completely understood if she pulled a Xan and never wanted to speak to me again." There's a private smile there, maybe a memory, but it's fleeting, before his serious face returns.

Th'res nods and gets up saying "As much as we are hurting right now, remember we are leaders. So people can't see us break." He reaches over and squeezes the other man's shoulder adding "At least in public. If you need to swing by my Weyr is always available." He gives a head tilt then moves over to put his put his dishes in the bins, he will glance at F'kan before heading out to the bowl and then back to work as people cope in different ways.

And just like that, Th'res is gone after imparting his wisdom on F'kan, leaving the brownrider wondering if the ellusive bluerider had been there at all. He muses on htat fact until his peaceful cup of klah is interupted by some weyrling emergency or other.

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