Flower Picking - Search 2009

Candidate's Barracks
Long and low, this large room angles back into the mountain in a near-perfect rectangle, devoid of windows and hearth. A functional room — the black volcanic rock has been painted with a cheerful mural, with the other walls painted in green and orange thoughtfully, before resuming the stark simplicity in the seemingly endless rows of cots that scatter back into the shadows. A small clothespress sits at the end of each puce-covered bed — yes, puce. Every cot sports a rather gaudy and obnoxiously purple cotton coverlet, leftovers from PranksPast. Boys to the right, girls to the left. Enjoy.
Hanging out on a long wooden shelf on the wall are seven firelizards.
Madeline, Jamilah, Abriwind, Ailae, and Ian are here.

Hopefully everyone has completed their chores because in comes T'ab, lightly swaggering into the barracks with a bright grin glowing from his face. "Hiya there Candidates! Lovely ta see ya'll this evenin'!" The bronzerider's blue gaze scans the room lightly, falling on each of the candidates before he bows his head, "In case ya'll haven't met me yet, I'd be T'ab, rider of bronze Tyroth, the clutch papa this time around. I've got a little task that I could use ya'll's help."

Ian lifts his head to stare over at the rider with a certain tiredness that is unusual for someone his age. But the prior months of his life did not lend towards countless classes and chores, oh the chores! "Hi T'ab." the boy manages to mutter before rolling off of his cot and stretching. "Whatcha want us ta do?"

After all of that talk about Candidate robes the other night, Madeline has managed to procure her mother's old one, and is holding it up and staring at it with a less than thrilled expression. "I think Mum must have put on some weight when she was a Candidate," she muses, tilting her head to the side before T'ab's voice is heard above the generic barracks chatter. Lowering the garment to her lap, redheaded Candidate blinks and offers the bronzerider a grin and salute. She doesn't say anything, but her eyebrows raise at the mention of a task.

Jamilah sighs and rises, brushing a hand across her forehead and resting the other on one hip as she stretches. She eyes the small portion of the barracks allotted to her and nods, calling it good. Noting the spate of salutes cast towards the entering bronzerider, she is reminded of the unfamiliar etiquette and drops a curtsey, instead.

So that's (the legendary) T'ab? Aha. Ailae's attention is drawn from letter writing (she's let the robe be for tonight) when the 'rider speaks. She offers a salute (because that's what they're supposed to do, right?) and puts down the hide. Letters can wait. For the moment, redheaded Ailae won't say anything, though she does at least appear to be curious and listening. A task?

T'ab nods his head to the individuals, although the ones that do not offer a salute are picked out specifically, "Although I rarely expect saluting for myself, it is a good practice. A nice, firm salute." The bronzerider shows an example with a crisp salute and then returns to his casual form, "Well, actually… it is Tyroth that needs ya'll's assistance, and I figured the candidates wouldn't mind a few moments outside of the Weyr. If ya'll like to join me." He grins and motions to the doorway, intending to go outside.

For a moment Ian looks slightly abashed, the idea of saluting makes the former thief wrinkle his nose but after T'ab's demonstration, he's never the less quick to imitate it. Whether or not he'll remember it or willing to do it again remains to be seen. A quick nod then he hops over to follow the rider out, looking more interested by the second. "Tyroth needs assistance?"

Madeline quickly lays her mother's robe aside, and stands to move closer to the bronzerider and subsequently: the door. "Tyroth needs our assistance?" she echoes Ian, only a few seconds after the boy says it. The former nanny chuckles a moment, flashing a brighter smile at T'ab as she waits for the others to join them. "Don't tell me we're erecting some sort of life size model of Dedanseth." Pause. "We aren't, are we? I'm not really that handy." Here is where her smile turns a tad sheepish.

Jamilah shakes out her skirts and neatens her tunic, eyeing the chest at the foot of her cot a bit wistfully. Though she may have no time to change, there is certainly time to practice her saluting skills, later. She sets her shoulders, lifting her chin highbut not too highand falls into line without question.

Ailae puts the hide down on her cot, and stands up, joining the others that have decided to go along with this assistance. Others have already asked the obvious question, so why repeat it again? They'll find out soon enough, right? Besides - Madeline's going along, and Nanny-dates gotta stick together. Hence the reason why she flashes the younger a grin as she falls into line as well.

"Yep, you'll be doin' him a great service. And Dedanseth too." T'ab smirks wildly to Ian and the rest of the Candidates, before turning to Madeline, "/Don't/ mention that to Tyr, else you'll be doin' that soon 'nough." A chuckle as he then proceeds to lead the crew out, "Follow me, ladies 'n gents. Hope ya don't got yer nice clothes on?" You are totally going to be mudwrestling, thats it.

Central Bowl
Looking toward the sky from the center of Ista Weyr's bowl, you view the five towering pinnacles of the Weyr rim that appear to reach into the clouds. The bowl floor slopes gently upward to the southeast, where various tunnels lead to the hatching grounds, ground weyrs, and living caverns. Across the bowl to the northeast are the weyrling barracks and training grounds. The Weyr's artificial waterfall sheets down along the northern wall of the Bowl, its pool concealed at the base of the bowl by a cloud of mist. West, the entire wall of the bowl has been blown out by some long-distant eruption, offering a breathtaking view of the ocean.
It is a spring evening.
Gliding about is a blue firelizard.
Blue Tirynth, brown Derwyth, and bronze Tyroth are here.

Ian walks in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Jamilah walks in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Madeline walks in from the Southeastern Bowl.
Ailae walks in from the Southeastern Bowl.

T'ab leads them to the central bowl with a little hop in his step, in the middle of the bowl is the bright and shiny bronzen Tyroth along with a blue and green dragon and their riders, "Okay Candidates, meet M'erc and Hydasnth and N'ked and Cheth, close friends of mine." Along with the rest of his clutchmates. "Okay, ya'll split up, some on each dragon although Tyroth can take quite a few since he's the biggest. This is gonna be fun!" And in greeting, Tyroth bugles loudly, hiya there my slaves!

Jamilah steps up to Tyroth's side. He talked to her, that means they're friends now, right? "Hello, there, lovely," she says quietly, voice pitched deep as well as low. That said, she settles in to wait for instruction, hands folded before her, and her expression actually pleasant. She is intrigued.

Madeline is quick to keep pace with the bronzerider, and is at the front of the gaggle of Candidates as they gather around the dragons. Ailae given an eyebrow raise and a shrug. Who knows what they're in for? But the Istan Nanny-date is quick to seek out her 'Reachian counterpart and head towards Tyroth. "We'll go with you, sir, if that's okay?" she asks of the bronzerider, before looking up at the large bronze and offering a head bow to the clutchsire. "Can you take three of us?" she queries, glancing at Jamilah.

Ian's eyes nearly pop out of his head. "We get to ride?" For probably a lot of the candidates, this is not a big deal, but Ian has had only passing acquaintance with any dragon. He'll stick close to the more familiar T'ab and peer up at the loudly bugling Tyroth. "Where are we going?"

Ailae is quick to go with Madeline - because they're just tight like that - and head over towards Tyroth with her, though M'erc and Hydasnth get a wave from her. Made's asking all the questions, so she'll just let her do all the talking for now, though she does whisper something to the other Nanny-Candie. Ian's question gets a quick grin from her - she'd like to know that too!

T'ab shrugs his shoulders, "Tyroth can take quite a few, but no need to pile up. It'sa short trip." Especially since they'll go between. A grin is sent toward M'erc, and a wink follows. Then to the rest of the crew, "Yep, mount up, M'erc and N'ked will help you up on theirs and I'll help you up onto Tyroth. And buckle up, it'll be a fun ride!" Especially if Tyroth doesn't behave, per usual.

Tyroth offers a coconut-rum arm to help you climb up to his golden whiskey neckridges.
Tyroth offers a coconut-rum arm to help Ian climb up to his golden whiskey neckridges.

M'erc leans against his dragon's shoulder, nodding with T'ab's statement. "Yep, Hydsanth may not be the biggest dragon in the weyr, but he can carry a few of you." He offers the candidates a wink. Hydy, never missing a chance to show off, rumbles his aknowledgement.

Madeline clambers up Hydasnth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
Ailae clambers up Hydasnth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
Tyroth offers a coconut-rum arm to help Jamilah climb up to his golden whiskey neckridges.

You take off.

Hold Valley
You stand amid the whispering, waving grasses of the Ista Hold valley. The grassy plain is framed on the north and south by stands of tropical trees. Along the southern edge of the valley lies the Herdercraft's Istan establishment, surrounded by several fenced-off areas that serve as the hold's pastures. Below, as the valley slopes downward to the east and the sea, the Hold's gather grounds are a wider grassy area, usually unpopulated except during gathers. To the west, the valley ascends and narrows into the ridge trail leading into the mountains.

You slip down Tyroth's gold-schlager neck and land neatly to the ground.
M'erc slides from Hydasnth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
Madeline slides from Hydasnth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
Ian slips down Tyroth's gold-schlager neck and lands neatly to the ground.
Jamilah slips down Tyroth's gold-schlager neck and lands neatly to the ground.
Ailae slides from Hydasnth's neck and lands gently on the ground.

Tyroth flies rather straight and true, no funny business compared to usual, he's got a place to go and things to have humans do for him. The flight is short and they pop out of ::between:: almost as soon as they went in. T'ab chuckles as Tyroth lands easily, a well-trained flier, and he assists the Candidate with unbuckling and with that he slides down and dismounts, assumably N'ked and Cheth, and M'erc and Hydasnth are doing the same. "Now easy gettin' off of Tyroth, he's a little large there, I'll catch ya if I need ta." He offers his hands up in case of any tripping and falling, a common occurrence.

Ian is lucky he doesn't need a change of pants. Just kidding. If he did, it would serve T'ab right if the boy just fell off of the dragon on top of him for that rather nerve wracking first ride and trip between. There are slight chattering noises though, that would be Ianto's teeth knocking together as the light linens and trousers he wears are no match for that kind of chill. Fortunately however, he's agile as a monkey and shimmies down Tyroth's side and straps as easily as he would escaping out a window. Not that he's /ever/ done that. Right. Landing with a hop, he scurries out of the way of the others and looks around, curiosity overcoming any fears. "Where are we?"

Madeline is used to dismounting her mother's green Imacinth, so with the assistance of Hydasnth, she is quick to find herself with feet firmly planted on the ground. Smooth. She does, however, turn to make sure Ailae is able to dismount correctly, and that M'erc is offering her assistance. Their location does provoke a slightly confused look from her, as she spends a moment observing the area. "We're still on Ista." She confirms, chewing on her lower lip briefly before shrugging. "Though I'm not sure exactly where. I feel like I've been here before."

Jamilah has had enough runner riding to know how to dismount, but a dragon as large as Tyroth proves a little more daunting. Skirts tucked into her belt, she slips one leg over and slowly slides her way down. When she gets to the ground, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes bright. "Takes the breath out of you, doesn't it?"

Ailae has been on dragons a few times before, so though she's not particularly /graceful/ about it, at least she's able to dismount without any real difficulty. Their location is glance at curiously. "It's not /too/ far away from the Hold, I believe.." Oh, look, she spoke. Now, what is it they're going to be doing? Hopefully not what Madeline wondered earlier.

Once all the candidates are safely on the ground, M'erc stretches, patting Hydasnth's neck. "Not too far at all," He answers Ailae, "We're just outside it." His hands go strait back into his pockets, "Hopefully between wasn't too jarring?" The blue, meanwhile, stretches; he hasn't been in the hold valley for awhile.

Oh. Right. Normal people might not be used to going between. Madeline glances around, noticing Ian's teeth chattering and offers the boy a sympathetic smile. "It's not really something you get used to, but.. it gets less.. jarring," she attempts to comfort, wincing a tad as she smiles. It's certainly not on her top 10 favorite activites, that's for sure. When their location is revealed, her eyebrows raise a tad and she nods. "Ah, right. The hold." Eloquent as always.

T'ab grins widely toward Ian, glad he apparently made it down safely, "We are in the fields of Ista." He points to the rolling hills of fields, filled with a variety of wildflowers. "Welcome, and this'll be one of your few chances for fresh air outside of the Weyr, so soak it up." The bronzerider then pauses to pace toward N'ked who is unloading basket from Cheth's back and he assists. If one were to give a good glance at the pair, T'ab places a nice little smooch on N'ked's lips, in thanks for carrying the baskets. "Thanks, handsome." Then turning to the candidates he holds out the baskets. "Now, Tyroth specifically asks that ya'll gather up as /many/ flowers are ye possibly can. He wants ya'll to make some garland to place on the gallery edges, so that Dedanseth has something pretty to look at. And I'd do what he says, he hasn't eaten tonight." The bronze even rumbles playfully to reflect that.

"And I," M'erc replies, "Will be helping. Though you all will have to do the weaving bit. It's never been my Forte." Hydasnth rumbles at the candidate and then stalks off, finding a sunny patch to go lounge in for awhile- the blue's better at crushing flowers then he is at picking them.

Madeline's eyebrows arch up a few more notches as she watches T'ab kiss N'ked. But she quickly shakes her head and emits a slight huffing sound before moving to grab a basket from the bronzerider. She doesn't make eyecontact with the rider, but offers up a smile before heading towards the fields and seeking out her fellow Candidates for the game plan. "Split up or stick together? Or maybe small groups? We could perhaps cover more ground if we fan out a little bit. What do you all think?"

Ian freezes for a second at the kiss, head a swirl for a moment as confusion appears on his face. However sticking his foot in his mouth is not one of the boy's habits, so he swallows any questions about that for later. You know, when he can go ask Andru about it. He's sure his 'brother' would /love/ to explain that to him. Instead he just does the usual kid grumble before taking a basket. "Flowers? Picking /flowers/?" Too girly maybe? He'll just have to remind himself that this is probably all part of the price for living at the Weyr, one of the things that Andru failed to warn him about.

Ailae smiles at M'erc, and nods. "I thought so..I was in this area a few months back." Like..two. But that's not important right now. And then T'ab's explaining just exactly /what/ it is they're supposed to be doing, and Ailae can't help but to chuckle quietly. "A sweet idea," she murmurs aside to Madeline, and follows the other to the other Candies. "Fanning out in pairs might work better…but that's just my opinion on it."

M'erc has already set to picking some flowers, though they're just some around his feet. Ian's comment earns a grin and a raised eyebrow from the man. "What's wrong with flowers?" The small little ones he's already picked to not go in the basket, but rather get tucked behind his ears- it's a fashion statement. T'ab's kiss is so commonplace that he doesn't even look twice, so the momentary looks of confusion or distaste on candidate faces earn a raised eyebrow from the bluerider.

T'ab grins broadly to the candidates, "And I greatly appreciate it, although I can't promise that this'll be the last time you'll be sent on some errands for Tyroth. He's been… odd lately." The bronzerider hands out all of the baskets and then he leans over to pick a flower, "Tyroth asks for only the pretty ones, none of those wilted ones, only the perfect ones for…" He deeply sighs, he is specifically repeating what Tyroth says, "… the most /beautiful/ gold in all of Pern." Le sigh, the bronzerider smirks over to M'erc, "And how're /you/ doin', mister? Ain't seen ya 'round lately." There might be a glance at M'erc's package, but it was subtle.

Madeline nods along with Ailae, mouth forming a less enthused half smile. "It is sweet. Granted, they're only going to last a few days without water.. but a sweet idea, none the less." Madeline is nothing but practical, that's the Nanny instinct coming out in her, but she'll bow to the wishes of the large bronze. It's either that or get eaten, right? T'ab's instructions gain a nod of acknowledgement from the teenager, before she attempts to grab Ailae's hand and head off into one direction. "I think I see some nice ones over there."

"Can't complain," M'erc replies, after plucking a few more wildflowers from their stems. Then he grins, and points to the stems nestled behind his ear- "In fact, I'm feeling rather pretty." The bluerider then looks contemplative, "I've been running about a lot, lately. A niece of mine recently became a Herder- I ran down and visited her for awhile." There's a note of pride in his voice; he's proud of his family's accomplishments, that much is clear.

Ian doesn't exactly have an eye for flowers, but even he can discern what doesn't look wilted, dried up, or vtol eaten. As the other candidates pair up, he looks around and sidles up to a newer face, Jamilah. "We kin go together. Can ya tell these apart? If I grab sumthin' nasty, let me know?" He's fairly sure he won't, not that clueless, but he figured better safe than sorry.

Ailae chuckles at Made as she allows her hand to be grabbed and herself to be pulled off via her hand. "Well, it's still sweet. And not everyone is going to be practical.." Especially, perhaps, if they're dragons. But Ailae has met some practical dragons, too. Oh, that's a nice flower. So it's picked, and examined. "Only the perfect ones…" For the most beautiful gold in all of Pern. It's quietly asked of Made, "is Tyroth always this romantic, or is it just the special circumstances?"

T'ab smirks toward M'erc with a nod, "Ye definitely look pretty there M'erc, /handsome/ I'd prefer to say." A few flowers are picked, mostly from motivation of his bronze lifemate. A few are slowly being woven together easily with his artist fingers. "Yer niece is a Herder eh? My lil' bro, Aloniel, is one too. I haven't gone to visit him in a while." A look over to Ian and he grins, "Now, only pick the pretty ones. The more yellow ones the better, Tyroth says those smell like Dedanseth… *sigh*… on a dew-laden day. Shardit Tyroth, its gettin' irritatin'." He waves a hand as his bronze lifemate who has proceeded to follow Ian, a strange sight given Tyroth's gargantuan size.

Madeline sidelong glances at the bronze in question, shaking her head. "I think it's just special circumstances. I asked Mum for information on T'ab, and she didn't mention anything like that. But then again, she doesn't know him well," she answers just as quietly as she was asked. Trust the teenager to utilize her less than orthadox mother for information. Reaching down to pick up a flower, the teenager examines it, before catching T'ab's last comment about yellow ones. Her purple flower is mused over for a moment, before she finds a yellow one to braid with it. "But at least we got out of real chores for a bit?" Look on the bright side!

Ian goes about picking flowers, first randomly but hearing the preferences uttered by T'ab, he starts looking for the yellow ones. All the time he gets that itching feeling between his shoulders and eventually a rather large shadow starts to loom over him. Slowly, warily, Ian turns and looks up and up and up. Yeesh. Looking a little like a stunned lapine for a second, he shakes himself then slowly raises a yellow blossom up high over his head. "How's this one?" he asks the dragon following him like an oversized dog.

M'erc laughs, tossing this next bunch of flowers in the basket. See, look! Helping. "Thanks." He says this as he theatrically adjusts the flowers- it's important that they be just right. "Melli- that's my neice- hasn't mentioned him, but it's good to know! I like the herders, they're good folk. Your brother an apprentice?"

Ailae laughs quietly. "Well, it's cute." But then again, a lot of things are cute in her eyes. More flowers are picked, and hearing mention of the yellow ones, Ailae chuckles quietly, and finds some very nice looking yellow ones as well. "Very true…at least there's that." A flower is picked, and considered. "Made, how about this one?"

Jamilah quirks a brow at the smooch, somewhat taken aback, though not entirely scandalized, having expected that sort of thing at the Weyr, if not from T'ab. She shakes her head and turns towards the lad Ian. "Sure," she replies, dryly. She eyes the flowers around them and sighs. She's too tall for foraging for flowers, hence never acquired a particular aptitude for it, but that doesn't mean she can't pretend.

"Aye, Al is an apprentice, but I wouldn't be surprised if he gets promoted sometime. He's much more… behaved that I was at his age." T'ab grins at M'erc as he picks a few more flowers, folding them together into a braid now a foot or so long and growing. "I can't believe Tyr convinced me to let the Candidates do this." He mumbles to himself, although also to his other riding friends. Looking around at the other Candidates to make sure that they are doing okay. Tyroth rumbles to Ian at the yellow blossom, and then there is a musical croon, oh yes, he approves, then the bronze continues to follow the young man around again.

Madeline turns her attention to Ailae's flower, and begins to nod slowly in assessment of its quality. "That one's pretty nice. Here, let me weave it into my chain. You seem to have a good eye for flowers. You pick. I'll weave?" she offers as a solution. Her own chain is growing in length, and she gently lays it in the bottom of her basket. Finding a place that's not likely to crush many flowers, redhead actually sits down. They're going to be here awhile, right?

M'erc nods, "Melli's too new to get promoted yet. I'm hoping for her, though." Just like a good uncle should. The bronzerider's mumbling earns a snicker from M'erc. "Eh, I think it's rather cute. How's Tyroth liking the role of clutchfather?"

Ailae hands the flowers she has over to Madeline - it's probably really better she doesn't weave. The others have seen her sew - or at least, some of them have. It's not exactly…good. "Works for me, Made. You sure you're alright with it, though?" Of course, she's continuing to collect the flowers as she goes, considering each one before moving on to the next, and handing several over to Madeline at once. Nanny-dates, sticking together. It'd be cuter if Ailae were closer to Made's age, wouldn't it?

Jamilah realizes that Ian has found assistance from a much more reliable source. She smirks to herself and turns away from the other candidate, seeking out the yellow flowers branched from a long, thick stem. "You'd be better off getting flowers from a hothouse, you know. These likely won't last longer than it takes to braid them."

With the dragon's tacit approval, Ianto drops the flower into the basket and continues, moving cautiously as he half expects the dragon to step on him any second. Just that uneasy feeling from someone who's not used to being followed by something the size of a plane. It keeps him honest about the chore at least, it's also not that difficult a task as he plucks any flower that catches his eye, but the majority of the yellow ones do end up being snatched. He gives Jamilah an almost apologetic look before lifting another bloom up for draconic approval before either putting in with the others or tossing it aside.

"I can braid!" Madeline asserts with a mock-insulted look. "My sewing skills are a little questionable, but I've had to braid enough of the weyrbrats' hair in the last few months that I think my braiding is up to par," she teases Ailae as she continues to weave the flower stems together. Ianto's draconic flower judge is given an amused grin and a shake of her head. "Now that's an amusing image," she comments, mainly to herself.

T'ab laughs toward M'erc, "Aye, Tyr /loves/ bein' a clutch pa. The greatest thing in the world to him. 'course thats mostly cause he loves bein' 'round Miss Dedanseth all the time." A pause as he frowns, "/All/ the time. I haven't been back to my Weyr in /days/." The bronzerider ties a few more flowers together as he turns to the bluerider, "He /used/ to be a bit less permanent with the ladies, but this obsession is getting annoyin'." As if in response, Tyroth bounds a few times throughout the the fields before returning to Ian with a friendly roar, apparently he wants to play.

M'erc nods, "I thought I missed you around the pools. Not surprising though." He pauses, looking thoughtful. "You've got my sympathies; those sands are muggy and hot. Makes me a bit glad Hydasnth will never father clutches, actually." A head is tilted to the bronzerider, "You think it'll last until after the eggs hatch?" Hydasnth, meanwhile, looks up from his spot- but it's not his rider's conversation that caught his attention. Tyroth is bounding a bit close to the blue's spot in the sun, so Hyd pulls himself to his feet and wanders a few yards away. Being trod on by Tyroth might be a bit painful.

Jamilah stares after the bronze as he bounds through the field, startled that the ground doesn't shake beneath them with every step. "How does he do that?" she muses aloud, then realizes that Ian is within hearing range, and turns away with a slight flush. She plucks flowers with a vengeance, stuffing them into her basket.

Ian rather though the ground /was/ shaking, or was that just from expectations of such a large creature frolicking like a puppy. "Ack! Tyroth, you're squashing all the flowers." Certainly anything trodden on will not be considered suitable offerings for the queen on the sands. The boy eyes Hydasnth getting out of the way and wishes that would have worked for him too in case the bronze's bouncing gets too energetic.

Ailae attempts to look horrified at the mock-insulted look, but fails, only managing to chuckle quietly. "I wasn't typically with the older children until recently." Which is truth! Only occasionally did Ailae have to take care of the older kids. Another flower is picked, and judged, and kept. Tyroth's bounding gets her attention, though, and she just blinks. And blinks a bit more. Oookay…

Seems everyone is distracted by the antics of the large bronze dragon, and Madeline is no exception. Ailae's expression is mirrored by her fellow Nannydate. "I feel like he's doing more harm than good," she muses as she tilts her head to the side. "But it's kind of precious, I'll admit." Romping dragons are always amusing, and a slow smile spreads across her features.

"/TYROTH/! Don't go bouncin' 'bout like that, yer gonna get yourself… /gah/ leave Mister Ian… bah." Tyroth seems to be in a playful mood, his drunken personality sobered by the presence of romance in his life and all these flowers. The bronze's muzzle leans down to Ianto's head to give him a swift whuffle before moving back to bouncing around. "Nobody mind my bro, there, he's just lost in his mind. Stupid… shardin'… bronze." T'ab is still weaving the flowers, although he is distracted enough to let lengths of flower chains grow without even thinking about it.

Romping dragons the size of Tyroth are frightening. At least to Jamilah, they are. Attempting to feign indifference, she begins to work her way back in the direction of the riders, hoping that the presence of T'ab might keep Tyroth from squishing her.

The boy freezes in place as Tyroth bounces really close and whuffles him. "Ack!" That's going to be his favorite phrase for a while as new things keep surprising him. Then he quickly scrambles away as the bronze bounces around some more. He gathers some more yellow blossoms then makes his way back to T'ab. "You think these are enough?" He too thinks that hovering around the rider will be sufficient safety from being quashed.

Romping dragons are definitely scary, and so Ailae stops her flower gathering, and heads back over towards Madeline. "Think we have enough, Made?" Please say yes, please say yes.. A hand is offered to help Madeline up, and to hopefully drag the other back towards the others. Strange, scary-ish romping dragon. At least, that's how it seems to her.

Madeline has been weaving without really noticing what she's doing, and at Ailae's suggestion, she glances down at her chain and blinks. "Yeah, this is pretty long." That's what she said? "I think we're good, at least for now." Let's hope Tyroth doesn't want to decorate all of the Galleries. She accepts the offered hand, and hoists herself into a standing position. "Let's go show T'ab!" She would skip, as isn't that what one does when picking flowers in a field?, but she simply hurries towards the bronzerider, brandishing the chain. "Will this do?"

Tyroth trumpets as the night seems to be falling faster, "Don't worry much 'bout him, he's essentially harmless. I think ya'll have done a good job gatherin' flowers." T'ab yells out and waves the Candidates in, blue eyes accounting for each individual and making sure not have become dragon-squashed. Tyroth has calmed down a little bit, but he still is getting excited about this whole flower thing. "Just gather the baskets and the garland and give them to N'ked to attach. N'ked, dear, we'll stop by the Hatching Grounds and drop off the flowers." A pause and the bronzerider's hand wipes his face, "Yes, Tyroth, I'm /sure/ Dedanseth will /love/ the flowers. Someone tell him that too, he doesn't believe me."

Jamilah eyes the bronze and his rider as she shifts her basket across her arm. She didn't manage to braid anything, but she has an impressive basketful. "I can't say what Dedanseth may or may not like," she begins, poking at the flowers she'd gathered, then shakes her head, "But if she's anything like my cousin, she'll be delighted."

Madeline quickly parrots T'ab, turning her gaze onto the bronze dragon. "Dedanseth will really love the flowers, Tyroth. They smell so good. And they'll certainly make the Hatching grounds more .. festive." A few enthusiastic nods follow, before she glances back at the bronze's rider as to convey the message - good enough? Handing her basket off to N'ked, she dusts whatever pollen has gotten on her white shorts off of her bum. "Ugh. Did I get it all? I should have thought before I sat down," she asks whoever happens to be standing behind her. There's nothing like a pollen covered bum.

Handing over his own basket, Ianto brushes off his hands, noting the stains of various greens and dirt. He shrugs and wipes them off on the legs of his own pants before Madeline's questions come over and he turns to stare. At her bum. Erk. "I think you might have missed a spot." For a second he reaches out as if to brush it off for her, then he stops. "Uh, over on the left. It's yellowish."

M'erc gathers up a few more flowers and tosses them in the basket, before standing and rubbing his hands together— ew, stem residue. "I think I'm done picking." he says. As the sunlight wanes, Hydasnth finds himself sadly lacking in a sunning spot, so he gets to his feet with a sigh and wanders over to stand near the riders. "Festive indeed," M'erc comments, in response to Madeline- "With all these brightly colored flowers, it's going to look like a heated gather ground."

Ailae eyes Ian, but just ends up chuckling quietly. "He's right, Madeline." She'll chuckle a little bit more. She'll also attempt to reassure Tyroth, "I'm sure she'll love it, Tyroth. It'll be very pretty, and smell very nice." Well….at least she tried, right? Hopefully flowers don't make Dedanseth sneeze or anything…because that'll be so much /fun/ to clean up.

Tyroth has at least calmed down slightly, to the reassurances of all those around. His shimmering bronze body now lowering his hulking haunches down to lay on the grass, preparing for the candidates again. "I think that this is enough, we'll take all the flowers to the galleries." T'ab grins to everything, "Thank you so much, this'll calm down my bro for at least a few days. Hopefully we don't have to come out here for a while." Or else they'll be completely out of flowers in Ista. "Okay, it is gettin' late anyway, everyone mount up and we'll stop by the grounds."

Hydasnth moves forward slightly, at the words 'mount up', and extends his foreleg to make it easier for any candidates who wish to clamber onto his back. M'erc sets to assuring that they're all buckled in and safe, before climbing on himself and waiting for takeoff.

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