Who

S'ayde, Kataskiath, Zavyr, Nynnth

What

S'ayde and Kataskiath track down Zavyr and Nynnth, and tap them into Arroyo.

When

It is late morning of the fourth day of the first month of the twelfth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Igen Weyr - Crater Lake

OOC Date 23 Sep 2017 07:00

 

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Igen Weyr - Crater Lake

Four centuries ago, a chunk of the very comet that drove some Oldtimers forward crashed to the desert near Igen Weyr, collapsing the original inner caverns and breaking through to a new spring that now feeds into Igen's underground aquifer. The result? Beauty from destruction - a long, crystalline lake of brilliant sapphire blue. Sharp sandstone rings the water in jagged peaks, where sparse desert shrubs cling to steep, sandy slopes and reflect darkly on the pristine, mirror-like surface. Out in the midst of the lake, a small island pierces the glassy plane, umber from azure in a near-perfect cone. A startling break in the stark desert and savannah surrounding the Weyr, the crater lake sits like a jewel in the rough - a picturesque, inviting respite from the rough, dry terrain beyond.


It’s mid-morning and S’ayde couldn’t be less thrilled with the task set before him this morning. In the midst of having his first cup of klah this morning, after a punishing day in drills the day before and absolutely no sleep that night, S’ayde got the message that someone had seen blue Nynnth around Crater Lake. It’s been sevens since the weyrling graduation and a certain rider and her blue have been absent from the weyr and damn near impossible to track down. It tends to make the weyr nervous when they have a renegade rider and dragon, and so, S’ayde’s been tasked with tapping the blonde little fool into Arroyo, because no one else seems to be able to find her to do so. Seems S’ayde’s old network of spies still has some use to him. But with newborn twins at home (Please welcome Synn and Dyanna), a hormonal and exhausted weyrmate, thread, a Wingleader out of commission and the day to day on top of that, S’ayde has no patience for having to track down the Fool again. Oh yes. He remembers Zavyr and the last time he’d had to track her. S’ayde shakes his head from his thoughts as the lake comes into view, and sure enough, in the mid-morning sun, there’s the glint of a blue hide. Kataskiath begins to spiral, coming in for a landing near the blue in the sand.

Having adapted well to a life of part-time roaming, the former thief nevertheless felt enough of a twinge of guilt at the idea of relocating an entire barrel of oil to some distant location for her use, that Zavyr settled instead for having Nynnth haul one out to one of the small, shallow caves near the much-less-used Crater lake. Now, the barrel occupies the niche, along with a sack of clean rags and another sack for soiled ones. And now It’s to this place that Nynnth and Zavyr retire, when the pale blue hide requires attention. Here, as well, the sociable blue can still listen in on draconic conversations, though he has taken after his lifemate in what amounts to near-total silence except when directly addressed. But Nynnth is absolutely pleased when Kataskiath blocks out Rukbat’s light at least briefly; his wedge-shaped head snaps up to identify the green, and relay her identity to his lifemate. Zavyr, who has become fairly adept at ignoring the comings and goings of others, glances up with a wary demeanor, pausing in the spreading of oil across Nynnth’s so-dilute hide. Nynnth, for his part, bugles a welcome to the green, his mindscape of open-air taiga crisp, though wearing winter’s bleak’s hues.


Kataskiath is much fresher than her rider, much better able to tune out the noise of the two squallers much more so than her human counterpart. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that she is more friendly, a whisper of a rumble is what Nynnth gets for vocal greetings, her fiery mindscape being much much more prominent. «You have been a hard one to find… and you have been wanted.» Flickering flames invade whomever will hear her, bright and hot with the sharp smell of burning pine. Kataskiath’s landing is no louder than a light breeze before S’ayde is sliding to the ground, keen hazel eyes on the hunt for a familiar blonde head. “Zavyr!” S’ayde’s voice will ring deep and clear in the air, brooking no tolerance for shenanigans. Somebody has his grumpy pants on.

“Sir?” Zavyr’s dragon is likely not a whole lot bigger than the green, and she’s not exactly hiding She is rather, wearing her junk garb, likely the stuff she wore down in the Underground, now oil-stained and ragged. The sleeves are rolled back, revealing narrow wrists, themselves wrapped against the cold, and her pantlegs are tucked into her old, worn boots. The blonde of her head is covered in a hand-knit cap that she must have picked up somewhere; it appears fairly new. Nynnth swings his head over to Zavyr, as if accenting her location in response to the pretty green’s rider. But he speaks only to Kataskiath, umber-and-grit tones sibilant with a backdrop of rushing water, « If you are loud enough, I can hear, even farther away. Except Between. I cannot hear other dragons, Between. » Just observing. The blue might be a bit more garrulous than usual; this may be all the socializing they’ve done in the past sevenday.

Sir. S’ayde actually hadn’t been expecting that one and he examines Zavyr as she comes into his line of vision. “You never were one to just sit still, were ya?” There’s that tone again, though it’s vaguely obvious that the irritation S’ayde demonstrates is that of the more ambient sort than actually aimed at Zavyr and her blue. «TIme to sssit sssttilll.» Kataskiath’s mind voice crackles and pops, hissing and spitting when she speaks, the flames bright and animated. She hints at what S’ayde has come to accomplish, but doesn’t outright say it.

“No sir.” Zavyr agrees, quietly, sliding an absent hand along her lifemate’s neck with the absolute devotion that no one can argue, no matter whatever criticisms they may have of Zavyr. “Pern is a huge place and there’s lots…There’s only the rest of my life to explore it. Which probably isn’t enough time. Nynnth and I have gone…A lot of places. Seen much. And he likes to hunt different game.” Indeed, the bluepair is never at the pens; such meals are far too domestic. Nynnth has yet to rise to chase, as well, despite the sheer number of greens and the several who rise nearly as a daily occurrence. “But,” she hastens to add, “We are here for Thread, and I’ve been doing what I can to help.” Her jaw twitches slightly at that, with those pale eyes sliding away from S’ayde for a moment, before she steels herself to look at him again. “Without Weyrlings, there’s still a need for someone to deliver firestone sacks.” -Which is exactly what Zavyr has been doing to occupy her time. If the sacks have been a bit light of late, they DO have the highest grade of firestone in them, unfailingly, and Zavyr can at least toss them accurately with less mass. “Am I in trouble, sir?” This time, the ‘we’ is not spoken; Nynnth is a fine blue dragon, and Zavyr would defend to the end, his lack of culpability in any issues that might have come up.

S’ayde listens, even patiently as Zavyr explains her absences from the weyr and the reasonings behind them. “Aye, well unfortunately, you and your blue here are going to have much less time for travel…All the weyrlings have been tapped into their wings but you…” There’s a growl in his voice over this, because Zavyr had been damn hard to track down, even for an ex-spymaster. He digs in his pockets for a moment and produces an Arroyo knot, one that has been living in S’ayde’s pocket for about a seven now. He dangles it in front of Zavyr, hazel eyes glinting. “Would you like to join Arroyo?” He asks, though his tone more implies that the question is just ceremonial, he expects her to say yes. Kataskiath settles in, lazing as Rukbat begins to actually throw some heat for the day. Near dawn is a chilly time in Igen, particularly in winter.

Zavyr had kind of figured that really, Arroyo wasn’t really up to taking on the inevitable problem that she, at least, seems to routinely present. “Saving the best for last?” A quick quip reminiscent of the Fool she once was. Still is, according to Nynnth. But the blue bugles again, wings half-unfurling as scintillating regard glitters with brilliant delight. Zavyr’s expression is much harder to read, but she casts a sidelong look over at her blue with features that soften somewhat at his enthusiastic response. “We would be honored to join Arroyo.” Zavyr murmurs with a nod, to S’ayde. “Thank you.” That last, quieter. She’s not sure if she’s supposed to salute or not. “When, and where then, do…Does Arroyo muster for drills in the morning? Where do I find a roster? And with Agertha down, who is wingleadering, that I should check in with?”

There’s a wry smile in the mix for Zavyr at her comment, and he looks relieved when she accepts the knot. “We muster at the lake in the morning for PT before drills and sweeps. For now H’tar and his green are in the temporary lead position, there might be a rotation until we get someone in the slot, but H’tar is who you look to for now.” (insert rando NPC here lol) S’ayde snaps off a salute to Zavyr, which should answer that unsurety and then he has to hide a yawn behind his arm. He is dog tired. “I suggest you start sticking around the weyr rider, Arroyo sees a lot of thread.” As their injury roster would back up! “We keep pretty busy lass, Wingleader or no.” Zavyr might want to set up that weyr of hers after all! Another yawn and S’ayde has had enough. “Well, now that this is done with, I must apologize and be on my way, I have other duties which require my attention.” I.E. Moanna has had Maeveth contact Kataskiath with a «Maeveth sayssss that herssss isss threatening to burn the weyr down if you don’t come home and take Sssynn and Dyanna sssoooo her own can sssleep.» And the warning has a creepiness to it with the hissing, flickering flames of Kataskiath’s mindvoice to back it up. OK! OK! Tell Moanna I’m coming! S’ayde looks at Zavyr, waiting just one more moment to see if the lass has anything more to say. «Ssshe ssssaysss bring cheesssserollsss.» Really??? «Really.»

The quick salute is returned, with Zavyr then stepping back in order to clear more space for S’ayde’s green. “Of course, sir. Thank you. H’tar by the lake for PT in the morning. We will be there.” The blue dragon unfurls his wings once more, and four lizards blink into existence, all immediately whirling about as they catch the blue’s excitement. Nynnth is up on his hind legs, easily balancing with the help of his propping tail, before Zavyr has stepped back to him with a shake of her head, “My heart, I cannot finish your oiling if you’re…” A gesture, slight wrist action, fluttery, “All animated. Annnnd,” Zavyr finishes as Nynnth insists on watching the green WHO IS IN HIS WING take off, “I guess I can wait.” She doesn’t watch S’ayde or Kataskiath; indeed, her regard is only for the pale blue who is, anymore, Zavyr’s entire world. Nynnth will send the Arroyo pair off with another bugle, before he’ll settle down to resume being oiled. No more peace and quiet. Nynnth is off to the races, speculating what position they will fly, analyzing all their strengths and weaknesses, and on and on and on…

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