Khaelyn's Search

[[Log file from Khaye]]

Keroon Road
A well traveled road, it stretches due east from the hold and winds its way down to end at Keroon Bay and the docks. Gentle rolling hills are covered with short study grass and dotted with small flowering bushes and the occasional tree. To the north the open spaces of the gather grounds can be seen. In the distance, the Sea Hold can be seen near the Keroon docks. Keroon beach lies off to the southeast, the warm brown sands looking very inviting. If one peers to the south, one can just see where the sparkling blue waters of the Keroon Bay empties into Nerat Bay.
Days finally start to become shorter as summer begins to fade. But it doesn't give up its hold all too quickly as one last hot, dry spell hits the Keroon area. Even though it is no autumn, temperatures are at the hottest they've been for the entire Turn. But there is a touch of autumn in the air as each evening seems a little cooler than the one before.

Khaelyn
What once was thickly curly is now straight, though falling back to its original shape — her hair, a rich purply-black, ripples in loose waves from crown to mid-back, the occasional stray bang falling across her face. What doesn't sweep down her face is tucked in behind ears,the shorter ones falling just shy of impairing the view of blue-grey eyes, each shaded over twice; first by a set of long lashes, and then again by the dark eyebrows, half-hidden by the curtain of blackened violet bangs. Her features are almost ordinary — nose is long-bridged, mouth is small, and chin is elfishly pointed, though the biggest point standing out about her is her skin. It's…. not truly lavender, even, but there's a definite pale violet cast to her normally-pale skin. On forearms and face, the color is still lighter, but from neck to elbows it's a pallid lilac. Age has added handspans, but not weight — she stands at over five and a half feet tall, slender bordering on thin. Long legs can attest to her height and are as lanky as the rest of her. Slim arms lead into long-fingered hands, callused from the work of her Craft.
Her clothes might have fallen victim to the thorough dousing of vivid grapeyness that seems apparent in the rest of her, but they seem to have had enough washing to rid them of most of the garish color. Her tunic is a blue-grey so bleached it's almost only grey, overlapped loosely over a sleeveless white shirt that has a few stains of heliotrope still. Her trousers are thin-woven black, so as not to show the mark of stomping vats, though dusty and scattered with a fair few pieces of hay. It's a bit hard to tell where her pants leave off and her boots begin, considering they are exactly the same color — it seems that the only way to tell is to look for the border of dirt that covers the foorwear excluding laces.
Brand-new saffron and white wind around her shoulder, signifying her as a Herder Sr. Apprentice.
She is awake and looks alert.
Khaelyn is 14 Turns, 8 months, and 18 days old.

Inya
Cobalt eyes shimmer regally from 'twixt ebony lashes, dancing with hints of violet, like a lavender-streaked sapphire. Swept back from oval face, thick ebon hair is pulled back in a tight bun, resting at the nape of her neck in a severe yet flattering style. Along the outer rim, a witch's-streak, pure white 'gainst ebon back, spirals. Skin, light cream tinged with faintest rose, is clear and smooth, showing no hint of age or stress. High cheekbones highlight the delicacy of her features, straight nose is tip-turned, and full lips quirk almost constantly with hidden amusement. Stern severity is offset by the faintest sly mischief that flickers through her face. Slender body is held with the firmest of formality, fragile shoulders upswept and long back unerringly straight. Form glides down, uniformly straight-lined, showing only hints of the soft femininity her face displays. Long torso, long legs, give a height uncommon to a woman, topping out at just under six feet, and yet more height to go. Yet it detracts not from her inborn grace and beauty.
Woven cloth the color of boiling lava drapes over her shoulders, skimming down long arms and slender torso, the shirt's folds clinging to her curvacious form. Edges are tucked away into a pair of wherhide pants of an ashy ebon shade, the thick leather clinging to her muscled thighs and calves, displaying them to her advantage. A vest of identical make to her legwear is left open, displaying the coarse fabric of the shirt beneath. A thick belt of braided wherhide and silver buckles surrounds her slender waist, supporting nothing at the moment. A pair of straps extending downwards from the belt curve around each hip and thigh, adding support for the thick wherhide belt. Obsidian calf-boots of heavier bovine leather extend over feet and legs, the toes and heels reenforced with steel coverings. Not a hint of jewelry can be seen for once, except for the apprentice bracelet remaining on her wrist. She is carrying an earthenware egg pot, tucked under one arm.
Curving o'er Inya's shoulder is the simple knot of an Ista Weyr Wingrider, Firestorm Wing. Proudly do the colors of black and orange march around her shoulder, seeming simply a frame for the thread of lapis lazuli that wends through the knot, indicating her lifemate, Wraeth.
She is wearing a silver chain bracelet with the Apprentice charms.
She is awake and looks alert.
Inya is 19 Turns, 8 months, and 27 days old.

Inya trudges down the road from the beach, muttering something about sand and heat and pesky dragons. She isn't paying much attention to her steps, and stumbles to a halt as she notices someone nearby. " Oh… sorry… didn't run in t' you, did I?" Anxious, she peers the other person over. " Not used t' walkin' much anymore."

Khaelyn is walking along the edge of the road, gaze alternating between the grass and the road to the side. Nothing remarkable, unless you take in the fact that she's going slower than a lame runner. As a bush suddenly just… springs up in her path, she bends slightly to look over a few leaves, and shrugs. So engrossed in the leaf is she that she doesn't notice the other person's appearance until they nearly run each other down. In the matter of a few seconds, her cheeks are a flaming red underneath their purple. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, taking a few steps back. "No.. no.. I mean, you didn't run into me. Sorry. I should have watched where I was going…"

Inya waves her hand. " Nah, donna worry about it. I'm used t' flyin' everywhere now, but that lazy lug o' mine wanted t' see the beach while I did m' work here." She flashes a grin. " If any fault is t' be had, it be mine." She peers closer at Khaelyn, studying the younger girl. " You be a Herder? How magnificent!" And she's all bubbles and brightness again. " I was jus' comin' t' see one o' you… sent from Ista, y'see… they said y'all could help me mor'n they could."

If anything, Khaelyn's blush darkens, or maybe that's just the purple. "Oh." How intelligent she sounds. Att he remark on her Craft, she brightens, though. "Really? Um.. I might not be much help, but I could try.. I was just out here trying to find a good path for my runner. My mentor's helping me train him, and.." She realizes she's babbling, and shuts up, turning red again. "But I /could/ try and help you."

Inya laughs softly. " M' weyrmate, Orbit, she's got a kitten. Lovely li'l thing, she is, too. An' I wanted to surprise 'er with a few toys an' knicknacks for the bugger. Figured th' best place to come is th' place she got it. Herders, y'know. Think you could help me find some?" There's a wistful look on her face, as she adds, " An' maybe a friend for the kit, too. I been wantin' one o' my own…"

Khaelyn's blush recedes slightly as a more pensive look comes over her face. "Kitten toys… I think we just sold the last of ours a few days ago.." Her hands link behind her back as she frowns slightly. "And I don't think we have any more felines that aren't reserved.." She looks up at Inya anxiously, biting her lip. "They might have some at the Istan Hall, though. Or.. um.. I could take an order.." If she has anything to write with and on, she means.

Inya shakes her head. " I checked with Ista.. briefly, they seemed kinda busy… but an order'd be nice. At least it'd get everythin' in the works." A pout develops across her lower lip, swept away by a sweet smile. " Not that it's yer fault… what is yer name, anywho? Can't call y' herder, that's jus' plain rude. I'm Inya." Babbling cheerfully, she thumps her chest with her fingers. " Nothin' special, just Inya."

Khaelyn frowns again, one hand reaching up to flick a stray lock of hair off her face. "They're out? Really?" she murmurs absently. Hrmph. At the other's half of the introduction, though, she blinks, and for a moment just.. stands there, looking blank. She's done this so few times she's nearly forgotten how — most people usually introduce her for her. And belatedly, she answers. "Well met, Inya.. And really, you can call me anything you want. Herder or something. BUt my name's Khaelyn."

" Khaelyn." Inya seems to taste the name, testing it on the tip of her tongue. " Khaelyn. What a lovely name." Beam. " Simply lovely. You're very lucky." She rubs her hands together. " Well. Shall we start that order? I've some hides an' stuff in my bags on Wraeth's straps… 'es my dragon… I was doin' a touch of cartography before the idea of a gift for Orb hit me. If'n you've none of your own. Save me a trip t' the Hall." She peers up the road, wiping her brow in mock-exhaustion. " Dunno how you groundbounders walk e'erywhere."

Khaelyn blushes again, the toe of one boot digging self-consciously into the ground. "Uh… Thank you." She blinks, mulling over the idea of a differently taken order. "I guess I could…. Are you sure it's all right? I mean, I could just run up to the Hall and.. write the roder down or something… 'Cause I don't have any with me.." She shuts up again, a ghost of a half-grin sneaking across her face at the last comment. "I don't. I usually ride runnerback." Oops. Did she say that?

Inya shudders lightly. " Never liked runners m'self. They're too…" What, big? And her a dragonrider? " Groundbound. Give me a 'phin and the ocean or a dragon anyday. But different strokes an' all that. Come along… Wraeth's a'snoozin' on the beach… funny dragon, 'e hates the water, but loves th' beach itself."

Khaelyn is just fine and dandy with runners. "A 'phin?" She looks blank for a moment. "Oh. A dolphin." She's heard about those. Really, she has. "Or a dragon? Wow. .. I mean, dragons are just… really…. big. But that's good," she hastily adds. And complies. She's a-coming along.

Inya grins back over her shoulder as she begins to trot towards the beach, eager. " Y'ever seen a dragon? If not, Wraeth's a real treat for a first time. An' if you have, 'e's still a treat." Her eyes are positively glowing. " Come 'long, Khaelyn."

Inya sways gracefully to the Keroon Beach.
You go to the Keroon Beach.

Keroon Beach
Dark brown sand stretches to the left and right, curving to form a crescent shape to fit the sheltered bay the beach borders. Felled logs are dragged onto the beach as benches for those who choose not to sit on the ground. The logs surround a fire pit with charred logs it in, evidence of a rescent fire. Keroon Bay stretches out before you, disappearing off into the horizon. Rolling waves lap against the beach, the only sound to be heard.
Days finally start to become shorter as summer begins to fade. But it doesn't give up its hold all too quickly as one last hot, dry spell hits the Keroon area. Even though it is no autumn, temperatures are at the hottest they've been for the entire Turn. But there is a touch of autumn in the air as each evening seems a little cooler than the one before.
It is autumn.
On the perch are Hellixe and Fete.
Blue Wraeth is here.
Inya is here.
Obvious exits:
Docks Keroon Road Wild Beach Waters

Wraeth
Dark and temperate blues wind exquisitely around the smooth hide of this slender dragon, the calm of an autumn's evening sky enhanced by trails of teasing chalk and deep lapis. Miniscule flecks of gold shelter in crevices of hide, glistening and disappearing elusively as flashes of mirth leaping from the heavy midnight. The deepest twilight teases a delightfully curved head with outlining wisps of sweeter pastel, refining the petite curves to near perfection. His neck is long, sweeping deep, with healing turquoise swaths dispersing over wiry muscles as he blends neatly into strong shoulders and sleek body. Curves smooth around angles, suppleness and agility encompassed by a quickening swirl of deep azure, twitching with hints of cobalt as it dashes towards the streak of his tail. Wings are twice as long as he, fiber thin wing panels tinted deep, mottled sapphire shaded by shadows that spark with hints of radiant dreams.
Hodgepodge and comical, this conglomeration of leather, waxed string, embroidery thread, metal, and hints of cloth seem to be chaos objectified. Strips of hide; wher and bovine alike, stretch this way and that in varying lengths and widths, no two the same. Grey, black, brown, pink, green… you name the shade, it shows upon this patchwork of straps. Thread, from plain waxed to the finest puce embroidery, zig-zags across the harness, in ways that seem impossible to comprehend. Even silver buckles seem out of place, here and there and everywhere, intersperced with shocking lengths of rough-woven cloth. It seems Inya just used whatever she could find. Will they hold? Not on her life.
Wraeth is 2 Turns, 6 months, and 27 days old.
He is 58 feet (17m) long, with a wingspan of 96 feet (29m).
Wraeth seems to be listening.

Khaelyn comes trotting along after Inya, still chewing apprehensively on her lip. "I've seen a dragon 'fore.." Exactly, noce, but it was still a dragon. Or so she hopes. "He was /big/." She catches a sight of the blue dragon on the beach, and just /stares/. For a few seconds, she stops trotting. "Wow. He's big, too."

Inya pauses near Khaelyn, admiring her own lifemate with an indulgently adoring smile. " Isn't he? 'E's the most lovely blue in th' world." Naturally, he's hers. " 'E won't bite you. May bring you a gift or two in' th' form of sand or a rock, but 'e won't hurt you, really." At the sound of his rider's voice, the blue stirs, rumbling confusedly as he spies two humans, one familiar, one not.

Khaelyn nods in earnest, trying to agree with everything Inya says simply because that's easiest when she can't really think of much else to say. "He's very nice. And very blue. And I /hope/ he doesn't bite.." Open mouth, insert foot. Didn't Inya just say he wouldn't? "I mean, he looks nice, too. Um." Hello, Miss Redundant.

Wraeth eyes the herder curiouly, before stretching from his curl to full length, spine and tail rippling as kink after kink is worked out. Curious, he bounds forward, kitten like, stopping a few feet beyond at his rider's low admonishment. " Slow there, lad me love. She's ne'er been so close, I don' think." Whuffling slightly, his haunches slam into the sand, puffing dust all around as he cocks his head and waves his tail, eager to say hello, but willing to let the apprentice make the first move.

Khaelyn just blinks curiously at the much-larger-when-close-up Wraeth as the blue approaches. Hands automatically clasp behind her back again, as she tries to think of what to do. "Um. Hullo," she murmurs, feeling unduly foolish at saying something like that to a dragon.

Wraeth takes that as permission to greet… after all, hullo is a form of hello, right? Either that or something else this dragon can't even comprehend. His forepaws slam down, and his haunches rise, and he peers gleefully at the herder, much like the kitten he resembles. Tail waving back and forth, he pounces a few steps closer, purr-rumbling the whole while. His rider, on the other hand, keeps a sharp eye on Khaelyn for signs of fearfulness.

Khaelyn takes a small step back, eyebrows arching in surprise at the purr-rumbling more than anything else. "He sounds kinda' like a canine… Or a feline. Kinda'." Her gaze remains glued to Wraeth the entire time, occasionally looking over at Inya expectantly. "Does he want something from me? He sounds kinda' like my canine when she's hungry.."

The moment her attention is away from him, Wraeth pounces, carefully curling his great form in a circle around her. " Nonono!" Inya howls, reaching out to tug on a wingsail. " She's not a toy, she's not a pet, and she's not junk! You can't collect her!" Violet eyes glance an apology to the enringed herder. " He's a collector o' things… Shymnith and Ivrylth are always complaining about the mess he leaves on the ledge with all the junk 'e has. He seems t' think you'd make a lovely addition to his collection… he's very fond of purple, y'see. Comes from Ivry an' Orb, I think."

Khaelyn jumps, more at the howl of no-ness than at Wraeth's sudden movement and circling around her. "Er.. It's all right. My firelizards and canines do this to me in my cot sometimes.. They think I'm a pet. And a toy." She looks up at Wraeth, hands reaching up to brush her hair away again. "And my firelizards are like that, too." She winces visibly at mention of her… color, though. And blinks at something that she missed before that. "Collection?"

Inya nods, tugging again before the blue gives a low rumble, refusing to budge. The bluerider takes a step back, inspecting the situation carefully. " 'E's fond of collecting things, 'e is. All sorts of pretty things, baubles and the such. Keeps trying t' get me to give him my bracelet." She strokes the silver charm bracelet on her wrist, but the blue ignores the careful remind her of his desire. He's busy settling in and ensuring escape for the Herder is impossible. " What do you mean you want her before anyone else has th' chance to take her? No one can take 'er! She's a huma- oh. I see. Aye, s'ppose they could take 'er, at that."

"Take me?" Khaelyn echoes, looking a bit confused. "Where?" She's still staring skywards at Wraeth, one hand unconsciously tugging at her hair. "I mean.." She pauses. What /does/ she mean? "I mean, why? /And/ where?" One foot digs into the sand. She's creating divots in the ground all over Pern.

Inya regards the herder with something between pity and amusement. " Hope 'e doesn't scare you, Khaelyn." Her voice is soothing, with a hint of laughter. " Wouldn't do for you to be scared of dragons, you know. After all, you might have one of your own soon." She shakes her head, kicking ineffectually at Wraeth's tail. " Stop worryin' her, lug, or she won't say yes an' we'll have to tell th' Weyr what you did."

Khaelyn is still staring, halfway listening to Inya. "Not really… Some of the runners at the Hall are a lot scarier." She blushes, realizing what she just said. "Or something," she adds, trying to avoid giving offense to anyone, least of all Inya, while there's this big dragon wrapped around her. On Inya's next words, however, she looks down and tries to peer around Wraeth. "One of my own? Why?" She frowns, still looking confused.

" Oh, I didn't tell you?" Just call Inya Scatterbrain and get it over with… she'd just giggle and agree, anyway, however false the nickname. " 'E thinks you could Impress. You know, one of the dragonets? The ones in the eggs on Ista's Sands?" She climbs over her dragon, perching on his back as she grins down. " This is an invitation for Search I'm botchin' here. 'E wants you to stand for th' clutch."

Khaelyn stops trying to look /around/ Wraeth and just stares at him, more or less where she assumes Inya to be on the other side. "Oh." She looks… surprised. As is becoming fairly common today. "Yes!" Wait, was she supposed to say that? A few more thoughts pop up in her mind, and she suddenly blurts them all out. "But what about the Hall? And my runner? And my canine? I mean, yes, I would want to, but my runner's still being trained, and I have all my pets and stuff.." She's babbling. Again. Oops. "But yes!"

Inya laughs softly. " If'n you don't Impress, yer runner an' pets'll still be here. If you do Impress, I wouldn't worry about your runner. We can bring 'im to the Weyr after you graduate. You won't have much time t' worry about 'em." She pats the blue, who is now purring quite happily. " Aye, lad, she's yours now, 'til another'n claims 'er." And doesn't Wraeth look happy. " Welladay, we'd best see if one o' your Craftmasters is around… always good to make sure they don' mind me stealin' you."

Khaelyn chews on her lip a little more, shifting her gaze to look up at Wraeth again. At his face, at any rate. "That's good, I guess.." Chewing on her lip and pulling on a bit of hair simultaneously — habit or talent? A sudden thought seizes her. Again. "But what about your order? For the kitten and the toys and stuff?" You can just see her mind ticking. Delegation of pets. Hmm.

Inya taps her fingers on Wraeth's hide as she regards the herder. " You can take th' order while I talk to your masters, how's that? It shouldn't take long, an' I don't care what kind o' toys or kitten I get, s'long as they're fun to play with an' he's cute an' cuddly. And male." She giggles brightly. " Come along, Wraeth'll let you leave, an' we need to get you settled here before you fly with me t' the Weyr."

Khaelyn looks visibly relieved by all that. She feels better with things to do. "That's fine…" A faint smile crosses her face. "'Kay." She looks at the circle of dragon around her, and tentatively tries to step out at the lowest spots of draconic barricade.

Inya waits for Khaelyn to get free, then sets off at a brisk pace for the road once more and the Hall.

Inya sways gracefully to the Keroon Road.
You go to the Keroon Road.

Keroon Road

Inya sways gracefully to the Herder Hall.
You go to the Courtyard.

Courtyard
Slate grey stone forms an even surface, with no stray pebbles to bruise runners' hooves. Scattered around the courtyard's edges, the occasional tree or bush brightens the deadening effect of the rock's expanse. Twin planters, with convenient handles, frame the main Hall's doors, filled with saffron and argent flowers as the season and weather permits. Placed just above the entrance, a ledge offers a perch to firelizards in need of one, large enough to hold a fair without seeming too crowded. Sturdy rings of iron are placed here and there upon the walls of the building, allowing the secure tying of runners and other creatures who might require it.
It is an autumn afternoon.
On the perch are Icala, Spice, Caspian, Defiant, and Keris.
You see Lapsa, Ceser, Sparkles, and Ivanova here.
You notice Litania, Jayzhl, and Ipirgi asleep here.
Cappa and Inya are here.
Obvious exits:
Pastures Main Hall Keroon Road

Inya skips in, looking very cheerful and bubbly as she's followed by an apprentice. She flicks her fingers here and there at those herders that stop their work to gawk at the bluerider, before spotting a familiar knot and an unfamiliar face. " Ah! See, Khaelyn? It's destiny. There's yer Craftsecond now." Nevermind what happens when the bluerider actually brings up the topic at hand. To her, it all falls neatly into place and is settled, anyway.

Khaelyn trots into the courtyard after Inya, and scurries past her to the Hall, with a quick bow of sorts to Cappa. "Um… Afternoon, Master Cappa." She halfturns, still walking backward, a half-smile present on her face at 'Fate'. "Um.. I'll just go and write your order up… And I'll be right back out." Heh. She turns around and nearly runs into the Hall.

You go to the Main Hall.

Main Hall
A cavern originally carved out of rock, the main hall has been carefully enlarged outwards, using slate, to make the extension Threadproof and sturdy. A few deep-set windows look out on the courtyard, allowing light in. The rest of the main hall is lit by suspended glowbaskets, a system of pulleys to provide easy changing. A few comfortable looking chairs are scattered around one side, a sharp contrast to the other side, which is clearly a reception area for guests, with a desk and several more formal chairs in a neat and tidy arrangement.
To the north, you see two people.
On the perch are Eoghan, Dingo, Soen, Honey, Garibaldi, Excaliber, Marius, and Vulcan.
You see Roha, Alpa, and Patchwork here.
You notice Salen, Bryann, and Kittenna asleep here.
Ysabell is here.
Obvious exits:
Classroom Clinic Courtyard Kennels Stables Stairs

You go to the Stables.

Stables
An array of sounds and smells reaches you as you enter the stables. The strong smell of hay, runners and dung is apparent wherever you go. The dusty wooden floor has a few nicks from the many hooves that have trampled down the aisle, though it appears to be in very good shape. Stalls line the aisle for a long ways and you see a light at the end of the hallway that probably leads to the Main Hall. Runners snort, paw and whinney within their stalls as you pass. You may even see a runner or two peer out from their stall to see what is going on. Each stall has a name plate designating the resident that lives inside. Where there are no stalls, you will usually see a variety of lead ropes, halters, saddles, brooms, buckets and maybe a wheelbarrow filled with feed.
There are 36 stalls here.
The stables are basically very clean.
On the perch are Buck, Githa, and Caba.
You see Jacques, Bramble, Ysan, Sheik, Prilla, Lyta, and Aurifer here.
You notice Vhiris asleep here.
Obvious exits:
Main Hall Runner Classroom Wing 1 Covered Walkway Hayloft Stall# Rooms

Tadi glides in from the Hayloft.

Khaelyn comes thundering into the stables, looking unduly frantic now. "Seif!" Well, there he is. "Seif! Okay. I'm going to Ista for awhile " How long, she doesn't say, but she barrels on with instructions. "And I need you to take care of Sideri for me. She's around somewhere.. Just whistle, call her, and she'll come. Please tell Kirai that I've gone and ask her to keep up Aurifer's training for me, and I'm off, send me a firelizard or something if you need to!" And she's spun on a heel and is running back the way she came.

You go to the Main Hall.

You go to the Courtyard.

Courtyard
Slate grey stone forms an even surface, with no stray pebbles to bruise runners' hooves. Scattered around the courtyard's edges, the occasional tree or bush brightens the deadening effect of the rock's expanse. Twin planters, with convenient handles, frame the main Hall's doors, filled with saffron and argent flowers as the season and weather permits. Placed just above the entrance, a ledge offers a perch to firelizards in need of one, large enough to hold a fair without seeming too crowded. Sturdy rings of iron are placed here and there upon the walls of the building, allowing the secure tying of runners and other creatures who might require it.
It is an autumn afternoon.
On the perch are Icala, Spice, Caspian, Defiant, and Keris.
You see Lapsa, Ceser, Sparkles, and Ivanova here.
You notice Litania, Jayzhl, and Ipirgi asleep here.
Cappa and Inya are here.
Obvious exits:
Pastures Main Hall Keroon Road

Inya grins back at that smile and skips up to skid to a halt before the Craftsecond, offering a jaunty salute. " G'day, ma'am. Might I have a moment of your time? I hope so, 'cause this is kinda important, an' I wouldn't want the Herders think'in bad of Ista Weyr an' such. It's about your apprentice, Khaelyn?" Babble on, Inya, babble on.

Seif saunters, hips a-swing, in from the Main Hall.

Khaelyn comes nearly running back out the Hall doors, skidding to a speedy walk as she approaches the Craftsecond and the dragonrider. And she finally just… stands there, waiting for something to happen that needs her involvement.

Cappa stands slowly, careful not to lose her place in book as she sets it down where she was sitting. Her eyes slide from Inya to the just-returned Khaelyn, then back to the enthusiastic, but unfamiliar, person requesting her time. "I trust," Cappa says slowly, "there isn't a problem?" The glance that is sent back to Khaelyn warns that there better not be.

Inya laughs softly. " Nah, no problem, 'less you don' want to release her to Search. Then I'll have a time explain'in to Wraeth, my blue, why he can't keep his new toy." She gestures to the younger herder. " He'll be mighty disappointed, an' so would th' Weyr, for losin' such a nice person. So, can we have 'er? Pretty please?" Beam?

Seif scrambles after Khaelyn, occassionally hopping in order to catch up with girl. At the sight of Cappa, he immediately melds his stride into a swift walk, rather than making a fool of himself and running. The apprentice stops before he actually reaches the trio, keeping at a distance for now.

Khaelyn chews on her lip, keeping her gaze at the floor. She's not a problem. Really. Seif's footsteps are heard, and she briefly looks up at the other Herder, frowning slightly. Did she forget to tell him something about Sideri? Her lip is chewed a bit more, as she awaits Cappa's verdict.

"Search?" Cappa repeats tonelessly, then stands silent for a while, staring intently at Khaelyn. She drums her fingers against her thigh, then finally emits a "Hmmm." The Craftsecond shrugs a bit, taking a step back towards her book. "Well, Khaelyn, we wouldn't want to disappoint the Weyr, now would we?" she asks, her tone /considerably/ lighter. "This would be," Cappa directs her gaze and question to Inya, "uhm, Ista Weyr, yes?"

Inya nods enthusiastically, all bubbles and brilliance at what she takes to be the okay. " Oh, yes ma'am! Ista Weyr. We're the ones with the clutch, see." Not that one of the other Weyrs /can't/ have one, mind. " Very nice. Very good Weyr, we take good care of our Candidates and everyone. Really."

Khaelyn? Search? Possible dragonrider? For a brief moment, utter horror is present on Seif's feature. Scary, scary thought. He catches some tidbits of the conversation, one 'brow raised as he eavesdrops — er, listens intently. So /that's/ what Khaelyn is going to Ista for…

Khaelyn blushes at Cappa's rhetorical question directed at her, but something resembling a, "I don't think so.." sneaks in from somewhere. Oops. She needs to learn to close her mouth all the way before speaking again sometime. An icy glare is shot Seif-ward, even though she doesn't say anything.

"Good," Cappa responds faintly to Inya's earnestness. "I'm sure Ista cannot be faulted…" for well, whatever you so choose. "Congratulations, Khaelyn," Cappa turns back to the Apprentice. "Have you made arrangements for your leaving?" that said with a glance towards Seif.

Inya claps her hands. " Please do," she echos, turning to Khaelyn. " I'd really like t' get back and get you set up. Orbit and R'kii must be wondering where I am…" But she doesn't seem displeased. " Just let me know when you're ready."

Khaelyn nods toward Cappa. "Thank you, Master Cappa.." Her gaze follows the Craftsecond's toward Seif. "I think I did… I'm not sure if he heard all of them, though." She blushes again, before she looks at Seif again. "Did I forget something?" She's got a messily-packed bag with her already, what else does she need?

Cappa nods slowly and settles back to her previous seat and abandoned book. Determined, no doubt, to completely ignore the rest of the proceedings and get some work done.

Ipirgi walks, not fast, but then, not slowly to the Main Hall.
Keris suddenly disappears ::between::!

Seif waves a hand of dismissal, good-naturedly. "Nah, nah, you didn't Khae. I just came to see why you were going and stuff.. But, well, congrats? And bye, I guess." A sly smile creeps onto his features. "And I'll try and get to the hatching and all. I'll take care of Sid, too.. as long as I don't get Shia and Shai too."

Inya reaches out, barely stopping herself from tugging the girl along. " Ready? I don' wanna worry my 'mates too much." Mates? More than one weyrmate? And this is the person who Searched Khaelyn? Ho boy. She gives a brief nod to Seif, suddenly simmering between impatience and indulgence for the younger girl.

Khaelyn snorts, a genuine grin crossing her face. "Don't worry. Shia and Shai won't bother you until I get back. Just make sure Sid doesn't find the manure pile. And don't forget what I said about Kirai and Aurifer!" She makes her way over by where Inya's standing, nodding. "Yeah… Ready.."

Inya sways gracefully to the Keroon Road.
You go to the Keroon Road.

Keroon Road

Inya sways gracefully to the Keroon Beach.
You go to the Keroon Beach.

Keroon Beach

Inya reaches up and boosts herself onto the blue. " Just come on up.. everything's okay now. He won't hurt you. An' it's fun to ride a dragon!"

Inya clambers up Wraeth's neck and settles in between two neckridges.
You clamber up Wraeth's neck and set yourself between two neckridges.

Wraeth [Keroon Beach]
Dark and temperate blues wind exquisitely around the smooth hide of this slender dragon, the calm of an autumn's evening sky enhanced by trails of teasing chalk and deep lapis. Miniscule flecks of gold shelter in crevices of hide, glistening and disappearing elusively as flashes of mirth leaping from the heavy midnight. The deepest twilight teases a delightfully curved head with outlining wisps of sweeter pastel, refining the petite curves to near perfection. His neck is long, sweeping deep, with healing turquoise swaths dispersing over wiry muscles as he blends neatly into strong shoulders and sleek body. Curves smooth around angles, suppleness and agility encompassed by a quickening swirl of deep azure, twitching with hints of cobalt as it dashes towards the streak of his tail. Wings are twice as long as he, fiber thin wing panels tinted deep, mottled sapphire shaded by shadows that spark with hints of radiant dreams.
Hodgepodge and comical, this conglomeration of leather, waxed string, embroidery thread, metal, and hints of cloth seem to be chaos objectified. Strips of hide; wher and bovine alike, stretch this way and that in varying lengths and widths, no two the same. Grey, black, brown, pink, green… you name the shade, it shows upon this patchwork of straps. Thread, from plain waxed to the finest puce embroidery, zig-zags across the harness, in ways that seem impossible to comprehend. Even silver buckles seem out of place, here and there and everywhere, intersperced with shocking lengths of rough-woven cloth. It seems Inya just used whatever she could find. Will they hold? Not on her life.
Astride Wraeth is Inya.
Wraeth seems to be listening.

You take off!

Sky Over Keroon Beach
It is autumn.
Obvious exits:
Down Southwest Northwest

Inya looks back and grins. " Ready to go *between*?"

Khaelyn is hanging on to her messy bag for dear life with one hand and grabbing ahold of anything that might keep her on the dragon with the other. "Sure.. "

Wraeth winks into ::between::!
:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::… absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you… you wait, and count…
Black…
Blacker…
Blackest…

Sky High Over Northeastern Bowl
You're flying nearly level with the Weyr's towering pinnacles, at this height. Far below you can see the Weyrling training grounds, and the waterfall pool. Numerous ledges line the Weyr wall here. And above you to the north are the Weyr's Star Stones and watchrider's post.
It is an autumn afternoon.
Obvious exits:
Star Stones Center Bowl Forest Pools Ledges

Wraeth blinks in from ::between::!

Inya laughs softly as they come in from *between*. " Welcome to Ista Weyr!" she crows as the blue angles his landing towards the bowl.

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