Who

Z'bor, D'wane

What

WeyrSecond and Wingsecond bump into each other at the Cove. Shop talk ensues.

When

-- On Pern --
It is 12:58 PM where you are.
It is noon of the sixteenth day of the twelfth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the sixteenth day of Winter and 40 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.
In Southern:
It is the sixteenth day of Summer and 108 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the sixteenth day of Summer and 28 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Where

Southern Weyr, Cove

OOC Date 13 May 2018 06:00

 

Zbor_8.jpg d-wane_default.jpg

"Aye, have to beware that heatstroke thing. I hear it's bad for you."


cove.jpg

Cove

This deep cove is just perfect for bathing dragons to romp and play in the clear water. The sandy bottom is at least a dragonlength below you, hidden in the turquoise shadows. The soothing ocean water swells and ebbs around you, lulling you. To the south are the shallows near the Weyr's sandy white beach, and there are usually dragons lounging around on the sand. East is the Weyr's wharf, and beyond it, Southern Hold.

It is the sixteenth day of Summer and 108 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day.



Like dragon, like rider, at least for today. In the midday Southern summer sun, anyone with any choice in the matter isn't going to be doing much work at the moment. D'wane at least escaped meetings and reports to flee to the beach to scrub Rocketh and now the bronze is lounging in the shallows of the cove. The Weyrsecond has finished the massive task of dragon bath and is taking a bit of an extended break in a hammock that was oh so conveniently strung up between two shade trees. Sure, he's got a stack of hides he could read, but they're being more useful at shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun off the water than anything else.

Apparently some people just are of like minds on days like this. Z'bor is soon seen walking up the beach, a freshly scrubbed and oiled Ozriath in his wake. He's got his surf board tucked up under one arm and a rucksack slung over the other. Seems the waves off the main beach weren't suitable enough today, or, the beach was too packed. Either could be true. Or it could be both. Either way, the green riding WingSecond has decided to surf off the cove today. When D'wane and his come into view, Z'bor squints to see if the WeyrSecond is looking, and can't quite tell, so, he checks off a smart salute anyhow. Then, the man starts scanning the waves while his patchwork green finds a suitable place in the sand to stretch out and soak up the sun.

Since the water is one of the few reliable ways to cool off without completely vacating Southern for more hospitable weather, anywhere with seep water and nice sand is going to be pretty packed. At least screaming children seem to be on the far side of the beach and it's mostly adults lounging about over here. D'wane's not really paying attention, so he won't notice the salute, but Rocketh certainly notices the patchwork green and extends a rumble of invitation for the cool shallows. D'wane eventually does let down his impromptu sun shade and sits up blinking. Only after he's oriented will he actually notice the wingsecond nearby and give a bit of lazy wave.

Ozriath is more than willing to wriggle into the shallows, the feel of cool water underneath her while Rukbat's heat beats against her back an appealing one. Z'bor however, moves a bit closer to D'wane's area, eyes still scanning the waves crashing to shore. He nearly misses the lazy wave. He waves back unsure if he likes the look of the water further out. He may need to wait and watch a bit and so, moves a bit further inland and plants his board in the sand. He's close enough now that he nods in D'wane's direction. "Weyrsecond." His greeting is friendly in tone, but formal.

That solid bulk of dragon in the way might also make it difficult to judge the wave quality further out. Even with company, Rocketh is just going to be content to stretch out to his fullest. While he might not be the largest of bronzes, he's large enough. D'wane's eyebrow raises slightly at the formality but if that's how Z'bor wants to do it, he can follow suit. "Wingsecond. Got plans today?" There's a brief glance at the surfboard the other man is toting.

Z'bor smiles, that's just how Z'bor is. Polite to a fault. "Vague ones, nothing solid." He runs a hand through his dark hair, scrubbing at the back of his head. "I was hoping to surf a bit. But that might not happen." But hey. No Big. Z'bor can find other things to do. "Got something in mind sir?" Ozriath doesn't take up much room, promise! She's eensy weensy teeny tiny. Plushy sized for a dragon, which is comical considering her rider's height.

"As long as you don't hit a reef or something," Seeing as D'wane came from High Reaches, he really hasn't had much exposure to surfing despite all his beach bumming ways. But hitting underwater obstacles seems like something that is always best avoided. The Weyrsecond stretches on arm across his chest and pulls at it in an attempt to pop his back. As for plans, he just shrugs. "Not really. Once it cools down, gonna run some folks through evening drills." Because pre-dawn or after sunset are really the times to go for it.

Z'bor nods. "Aye, that sounds like a good idea." Rielle runs a similar drill schedule with Serval, and Z'bor runs the PT schedule during the coolest hours. Z'bor could totally just soak in this heat though. He loves it. "Looks a good stack of hides there sir." The greenrider probably has a stack of hides growing himself. Hidework. It never ends.

D'wane nods as well. "Yep. What the healers have been recommending. Stay out of sun, drink water… yada yada." He ends with a dismissive handwave as they've all probably heard those lectures way too many times. But of course, the healers keep saying it because there will always be at least ONE person who forgets. As for his hide pile, he nods. "Yep. Normally don't recommend mixing hides and water but…" He shrugs.

Z'bor near rolls his eyes as D'wane ticks off the list of things the healers have been nagging about for a time now. "Aye, have to beware that heatstroke thing. I hear it's bad for you." He chuckles and plants his hands on his hips, having nowhere else to put them at the moment. Z'bor shrugs in tandem with D'wane when he mentions mixing hides and water. "You do what you have to do sir, I've done my fair share of hidework on the beach."

D'wane gives a bit of a snort in his own agreement. "Yeah. It'd be downright embarrassing if someone were to get heatstroke and fall off their dragon." Plus, that's why they have things like riding straps! Falling is less of an issue. As for the mention of hidework on the beach, he just shrugs again. "Sand in the hides has been another constant complaint from the archivists lately." And 'you need to wear shirts in the library' and 'INSIDE VOICE'.

Z'bor chuckles. "Well, We'll just have to be more careful now won't we?" And there's no short amount of sarcastic humor there. He's joking, of course, though he certainly will continue to be guilty of working outside. Lookign out towards the waves, they seem to be evening out, coming in at a more steady and consistent roll. "Well, if I'm going to get a surf in, now's the time to do it. Hope you enjoy your day sir." Z'bor checks off a salute and moves to pull his board from the sand, because he'll need that of course. "Good luck with the hidework!"

D'wane gives a salute back to Z'bor and call back, "Good luck with the ocean!" Whether the surf will actually respond to such hopes is for the wingsecond to find out. D'wane's just going to grab his own water skin and settle back down in his hammock and eventually those hides will get read, but maybe just not right at the moment.

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