Chance Meeting? (Rys)

[reqqy]

What did I say about coming in here after me? You are too big for that. Why you insist on going places I can't, I don't know, Jessereth returned huffily. If you're still complaining about my decision to start bathing in my weyr instead of in the river... There's nothing wrong with the river. I know this may be a hard concept for you, but I don't necessarily want to be publically nude all the time, Jess. Besides, you always want to play, and I never can get clean. You're too easily distracted. That's not my fault. And you never seemed to care much about being nude before. Z'hin sighed. Okay, you've got a point there. We're trying not to draw attention to ourselves, though, and much as nudity isn't a bother to me, it definitely falls in the eccentric column, at least at Selenitas. I've seen naked people. Good for you. I mean, they don't care that much at Selenitas. No, Jessereth. Just no. We can do other things together, okay?

The brown subsided sullenly. As soon as Z'hin stopped arguing reason, there was little he could do. The dragon nudged at the trees with a forelimb, before settling down on the bank of the river with a huff. Just lovely. What are we doing here, anyway? Looking for something, the brownrider responded, distracted. What? A plant. A plant, Jess echoed, unimpressed. I vote we go to the ocean. If you're desperate to find plants, some grow at the bottom. Who said you get a vote? I'm looking for a certain type of plant, Jess, and it isn't seaweed. Well, I'm bored.

Z'hin knelt beside a particular root, staring at it contemplatively. No. Not quite right. Annoyed, he kicked at it with a foot. If you'd stop bothering me, I'd find what I was looking for much faster and we can go do something else. But Jessereth was far too obstinate to take a hint like that. What's so special about this plant, anyway? Supposed to help with nerve damage. Or, at least, that's the rumor. You want it for your arm, then, Jessereth replied, suddenly interested. Then you could stop wearing those strange-looking things to drills. It's still mostly untested, and apparently the root is poisonous if not prepared right, but...I thought I'd at least check to see if they have it somewhere around here. That healer might be able to help you if you can find it. That healer always referred to Rawign, whom Jessereth actually remembered, as the feline attack was not something he was ever likely to forget.

That was the plan. Frowning, he pulled a scrap of parchment from his pocket, comparing the information and sketches to a cluster of stalks near a great hardwood tree, then withdrew a square of oilcloth and carefully set to digging. After removing five of the shoots intact, he set to rolling it up, ignoring the dirt caked to his fingers and trousers. What he hadn't mentioned was the fact that these roots were a rather commonly known poison, although he had heard rumors that, prepared a certain way, they might be able to reduce nerve damage. It was...unlikely, but he figured if anyone would know, Rawign would. Still, it might be best if no one else saw him digging up this particular plant, as that would probably be considered suspicious. He breathed easier when the bundle was safely tucked away in his tunic.

[glamourie]

If you were running on land, I could probably beat you.
What is the purpose of wings if not to fly? Do not complain that you are smaller - it isn't my fault that your race was cursed with being land-bound for all time.
You're a showoff; that's really all there is to it!

And so they bickered. Such arguments were not uncommon for the bronzepair, in particular in the mornings after breakfast. Ka'rys usually made it a point to dress and go running - although his sprinting skills were hardly impressive compared to some. His swimming was a lot more surprising, and Ka'rys usually made a point to have Ciceroth fly him up out of the canyon, then to run along the edge of the jungle to the river. About a month after his arrival at Selenitas, he took it upon himself to run through the jungle's edge until he found an outstretched cliff over the river, diving down approximately fifteen hands until breaking the water's surface, and the spot was his new diving area. Races were a morning routine, with Ka'rys getting a good five minute headstart before Ciceroth took to wing and flew up above him - over the tree tops while his rider ran as fast as he could through the jungle's edge, to the cliff he so-liked, and dove right into the river. Some people might have found his behavior comical, but it guaranteed both he and Ciceroth got an effective workout, and he usually swam back to shore and swam about for a candlemark before returning to his weyr. That had turned into half-to-three quarters of a candlemark after his sudden change in rank (thank you Ciceroth) but he still found time to swim as often as he could.

Problem was, he'd never beat Ciceroth. How could he? Wings versus dense vegetation. It wasn't a hard concept, but it was one the bronze took perverse delight in reminding him of. As if it was particularly impressive to beat a human in speed. What's more, Ka'rys always took offense and tried harder. The fact that he felt as though he was out of shape hadn't helped, either. His exercise regime was surprisingly brutal, leaving only a short amount of time for sleep at all. Not that he cared. He didn't much like sleeping. When he slept, the dreams came, and Ka'rys hated to dream. He also hated to lose. Curse that bronze! Curse him!

Snap! Crack! Rustle!

Ka'rys grabbed a low hanging branch and swung himself forward as he half-ran through the jungle. Bark and crushed leaves covered his hands and smeared against his gray shirt (effectively adding green awkward stains) as he moved. The path was from memory, and he startled at least one firelizard between in the process, but the bronzerider did not appear to notice. He was almost the river when he swung around another branch and then hit the ground - barefoot - only to be presented with another human lifeform.

Abruptly, he stopped. His heartbeat was still going rapidly as a shadow passed above - Ciceroth swooping over to the river's edge, doubtlessly - and he turned, slowly, to look at Z'hin. He was probably a comical sight, with a dirty and stained up outfit that would likely have made Savitri verbally hit him (she seemed to hate the shirts enough as it was), covered in vegetation gook (between bark, dirt and debris only a forest could produce), and completely barefoot in the middle of the jungle, but his feet were quite hardened. He was used to running around without shoes on and rarely bothered with them if it could be helped. The look on his face was one of bemused interest, and he cocked his head to the side to look from the plant Z'hin was examining, back to the brownrider. It took him a moment to level out his features, and he couldn't keep the fascination off his face, even though he tried quite hard.

"... Do I even want to know?"

By the river, Ciceroth landed on the bank opposite Jessereth and found himself a nice sand bar before promptly flopping down with an audible splash. His eyes whirled, and he added privately to RysHis, I won. Again. Distractions will be your doom.

[reqqy]

Z'hin turned toward the sound (loud enough to be a runnerbeast crashing through the jungle) and stared at the man standing there, lathered up and breathing hard. The brownrider tried not to laugh. Tried. He managed to keep most of it in, but a slight chuckle escaped him, the herbs forgotten in his hand for a moment. "Making the plants bleed today, eh, Weyrleader?" Z'hin commented, jerking his chin at the green stains all over the older man. He always called Ka'rys 'weyrleader.' Something of a carryover from his time in the north and, to be honest, he'd noticed how it seemed to annoy the man, which only made him all the more inclined to use the title. Hard to verbally chastise someone for being polite, wasn't it? Some people did it anyway, but thus far Ka'rys had suffered in silence, and the brownrider did so enjoy watching people squirm.

He didn't even realize what it was the bronzerider was referring to right away, but then he glanced down at the herbage, looking up with a grin. "Maybe. Depends." In his usual unhurried manner - despite the earlier worry that someone might catch him, Z'hin truly was never one to panic, and Ka'rys's response either showed ignorance or a lack of concern, both of which were not at all bad reactions - the brownrider set about finishing wrapping the shoots. The man decided it was best to pretend that the Weyrleader at least had some knowledge of herbs, for it would prove problematic if he tried to claim these were something else and Ka'rys was in the know.

"Thought I'd store up on these just in case I feel inclined to poison anyone particularly annoying," he commented dryly, flashing Ka'rys another grin as he stashed them away in his tunic. The bronzerider seemed like a decent enough sort, when all was said and done. Not the type of person to be overly sentimental, at any rate. Or particularly gullible. It wasn't likely that Z'hin would really go about poisoning random people, after all. The brownrider was very much a proponent of the concept that if you acted like you had nothing to hide, people didn't go looking.

The young man - and he was young, for all that he definitely didn't have that incompetent, youthful air that so many his age seemed to possess hanging about him - had more than just a reason or two to take particular interest in Ka'rys. Firstly, this man was the new Weyrleader of Selenitas - relatively speaking - and that should be of interest to anyone at the weyr. Ka'rys was also his wingleader. He was a Fortian. And Z'hin now knew (or at least he was almost entirely certain) that the Kale that now lived with the brownrider was this man's daughter. That was bound to be an awkward topic, but one he needed to broach while he had the man alone. Z'hin was too polite to bring up such a sensitive topic in public, particularly with someone who seemed to prefer to keep his emotions to himself. Not that the brownrider had any real proof that Ka'rys would get emotional. For all he knew, the man didn't care much about his daughter at all. That was common enough in the north.

After a moment of consideration, the brownrider shrugged one shoulder, offering Ka'rys the truth, if only because the truth was so much easier than trying to maintain a lie and he saw no reason not to. "One of the healers I knew mentioned that this particular root may help with nerve damage, though he couldn't seem to remember how it was supposed to be prepared. I though maybe Rawign might - he's the one with a knack for this sort of thing at Selenitas." Z'hin's lips twisted into a wry grin. "I don't really mind this useless thing so much, but it wouldn't at all bother me if it was a bit more responsive." He batted at the maimed limb, which flopped comically. Of course, it was far more mobile than the demonstration suggested. The brownrider simply found it better to have people assume that he couldn't use it at all without the cables, just in case he ended up on the other end of a fight with them. Nothing like the element of surprise to even the playing field a little.

You talk too much. I know. But it seems to work, so whatever. Bet you couldn't go a candlemark without making some sort of sarcastic remark. Any candlemark? Jessereth snorted. Any candlemark while you were awake and not completely on your own. Spoilsport. No bet, then? The brown was well-aware of his present company, but he didn't greet Ciceroth. He wasn't fond of dragons in general, bronzes in particular, and company at all. Snuffing softly, he continued to pace along the line of the trees, refusing to allow Ciceroth to effect his behavior. Stubborn, stubborn brown.

[glamourie]

He rather wanted to punch Z'hin. It probably would not have done any good other than to make him feel slightly better, but Ka'rys wanted to, anyway. He did not like being reminded of a rank he was sure he wouldn't keep, when most people at Selenitas did not seem to pay any heed to it or him. It didn't help that he strongly suspected Z'hin couldn't care less what his rank and title were, although from the reaction he'd offered to the mention of S'rei, he was pretty sure that he was favorable in the brownrider's eyes to the former Weyrleader. He was probably the only one who thought that -- including Ka'rys. Then again, he didn't know Z'hin very well. Maybe he just didn't like S'rei on a personal level, but if the man had come so close to getting the brownpair killed, he would not have blamed him if he hated him as far as everything went. There was a reason that Ka'rys had a strong dislike of S'rei, despite being moderately amiable to him when they came around one another, after all.

The bronzerider chose not to reply to Z'hin's question, instead settling for another, less conventional approach, "You don't strike me as a man who much cares about rank and formality, brownrider. What have I done to merit the special treatment?" It was the closest he could come to saying for Z'hin to knock it off without sounding... well, odd. He was fond of using rank to describe people, but he hated it returned. His reasons for doing so were less formality and more distancing technique, though. People assumed less about overt formality than they did name usage. It was also harder to keep his real opinions out of his voice when he spoke people's names. Strange? Perhaps. But nonetheless true.

He was tempted - very seriously - to ask who the brownrider intended to poison. He refrained. Technically he was supposed to be setting an example, but he couldn't keep the slightly amused expression from his face. He did not believe Z'hin intended to poison anyone, simply because telling the Weyrleader he was going to do so would be utterly stupid. The brownrider struck him as a lot of things -- irritating, cocky and overly relaxed, for a few good examples -- but not stupid. There were a few people he'd apply that term to, but surprisingly not as many as most would think. Foolish, yes, Selenitas was drowning in fools. But not stupidity. They were lucky in that regret. His gaze lingered on the plants, and then flicked back up to the brownrider's face curiously.

"Rawign is from Nerat," Ka'rys explained with a light shrug, as if it explained everything. Anyone familiar with the geography of Nerat would understand what he meant. Ka'rys had never envied Benden having to fly Thread over that region. Nerat was home to beautiful, flourishing rain forests and a unique environmental structure unlike anywhere else on Pern. It was also a tropical region toward the southern end, and anyone from Nerat had more of a knowledge of plant-life than most of the inland holds because of it. That the healer made an effort to specialize in that field did not surprise Ka'rys at all. It was likely what he knew, just like dragonriding was all that Ka'rys knew. "Are you sure you have the right root? There's a lot that look very similar and if you bring the wrong thing, you might have trouble." He nodded - it made sense to him that the brownpair would seek it out, if there was a genuine rumor to it being able to treat nerve injuries. He didn't know enough about healing to say one way or the other. Maybe he could ask Savitri. She'd probably know.

"You might have done better to simply ask one of the healers about it, then have them retrieve it," he added as an after thought, "that way you could be sure the right root was snagged, and save yourself time. Then again, they might flay you for taking up more of theirs than necessary. Grouchy lot."

Like you are one to talk. The bronze snorted audibly and then snuggled himself into the sand, as though burrowing. He did not acknowledge Jessereth any more than the brown did him. Do you intend to socialize or do I get to swim with you? Was he jealous? No, not really. Ciceroth simply did not think much of Jessereth and his rider. It wasn't personal. He just distrusted anyone who had immediately come back from the north. Especially coming back from that place. RysHis might have been more inclined to give them leeway for that fact but Ciceroth was more critical. Anyone who came back from that place was a risk, and he did not like RysHis being alone with someone who could hurt him, where he was too far away to help. It made him highly uncomfortable.

[reqqy]

Z'hin merely affected an affronted look, his hand fluttering dramatically before his chest as if he'd been greatly wounded by the Weyrleader's statement. When he responded, his tone oozed such overwhelming sincerity it was even nauseauting to Z'hin, and it was all he could do to keep a straight face. "Special treatment? But I always treat everyone with the utmost respect. This is, this is...this is hurtful. It truly is." Oh, there it went, that stupid little quirk to his mouth that always gave him away when he was messing with someone. Such a bothersome habit, that.

And that was pretty much the brownrider's answer to any question he had no intent of actually responding to. Ka'rys was perhaps the last person he needed in his head, dissecting his motivations and thoughts. For the briefest flash of part of a second, something other looked out of the brownrider's eyes, something predatory. Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light. It was a game the man had taken to as a fish to water, and he played it better than most with more experience than he. Most. If not, things might have been quite...different.

His brow arched mildly upward. Nerat. What little he knew of that area - or should know of it - was mere hearsay. "I'm afraid you've lost me, Weyrleader." Another twitch at the corner of his mouth, and this time he didn't bother to hide the teasing light in his dark eyes. Z'hin almost never passed up a chance to needle someone. Made life interesting. Before Ka'rys could help clarify, however, the brownrider shrugged. "Doesn't matter though. All I need to know is that he's competent; that's good enough for me." Silly bronzerider. There was absolutely no point in inserting superfluous information...okay, hold up. He had to sort out his mental filters again, apparently, because that level of consciousness should be in the background.

Crossing his arms over his chest (he'd forgotten sometime during the conversation that he'd been giving off the impression that his left arm was little more than dead weight) Z'hin grinned at Ka'rys. There was nothing particularly friendly in the expression. "Thus the reason I'm taking these to Rawign. He doesn't have to come out here, and I don't have to gamble with herbs I know very little about." Was his tone mildly condescending? Perhaps. He didn't much care for Ka'rys's 'advice.' If he wanted advice, he'd ask for it. The brownrider was nothing if not independent (and arrogant, though it's doubtful he'd admit to that). Implying that he wasn't intelligent enough to reason out something that was this purely common sense did insult him just a bit.

This is boring me. When can we leave? And turn my back on this man? Fat chance. Jessereth released a mental sigh. I thought you might say that. This is going to take awhile, isn't it? Stop grousing. I'm sure he'll move on soon enough. I'm not that interesting. That, at least, I can agree with. The brown cast a glance Ciceroth's direction, his regard cold and calculating. What a ridiculously stupid dragon. For a northern bronze, he didn't have much sense, now did he? Rolling around in the sand while Jessereth stood between him and His...

[glamourie]

Was he... trying to be irritating? Ka'rys fixed Z'hin with a simple stare, letting him speak without complaint. He noticed - and made a mental note! - of the fact that Z'hin had earlier waved his arm so listlessly, only to fold it so simply. Which meant he probably had a lot more mobility in it than he was pretending to. The bronzerider filed that fact away under the category of Lies told by Z'hin to be remembered in further dealings with him. If he was willing to overdramatize one thing to the point of a lie, that meant he was probably lying about more, and Ka'rys distrusted him enough as it was. He kept his face completely blank as he half-listened to the brownrider, but the sarcasm was neither wanted nor appreciated, and it touched on a nerve. Probably intentionally, but it did nonetheless. He did not like being mocked.

As soon as Z'hin was done speaking, he reared back and punched the brownrider clear in the eye with his stronger left hand. It was a very fast movement, though packed with force enough to tell that he most definitely meant it. Typically he did not spring to violence so quickly but -- Z'hin represented a great deal of things in Ka'rys's mind that he was not okay with, the first and foremost being that the home he'd grown up in, the place he'd spent most of his life, was dissolving into ashes, nothing more than a memory. It was an unpleasant an ugly reminder, and having it shoved in his face by Z'hin's mere presence was enough to annoy. On the other hand, the mockery was also undermining what little authority he did have. He wasn't entirely angry though. He was only half-annoyed; the other half of him was amused, as he was fairly sure that Z'hin was calling his bluff more than anything else. Well, at least he found out that Ka'rys wasn't too shy to defend himself.

"No, brownrider, that was hurtful," the bronzerider replied dryly. "Next time, do yourself a favor and take the offered hint. You've only got two eyes to blacken, after all."

There were enough trees around, that Ka'rys was betting he'd have a larger advantage on Z'hin if the brownrider did decide to retaliate. Being barefoot would hurt him but -- he was guessing he could maneuver better through the foliage given that he was much smaller. He'd have to go back the way he came though. Ciceroth wasn't close enough otherwise, and he didn't have a knife with him - for once. If he got lucky he could use the vines to his advantage but he did not like counting on luck. He mentally braced himself, but kept his face blank.

So... that was what Fort was becoming? Sarcastic, idiotic children with no respect for those who ranked him? If he'd ever dared to speak to any of the bronzeriders the way Z'hin had him, they would have slaughtered him. He had scars on his back from, as a child, being falsely accused of theft. He could only imagine what insubordination would get him. No one liked a smart mouth. No, there were a lot of discrepencies in the brownrider's story... and Ka'rys was not entirely sure he believed any of it.

Rather than elaborate on what he'd meant by saying where Rawign was from (it wasn't his fault that Z'hin was clearly not fluent in geography), he scoffed and gestured to the trees. "You might want to check the infirmary tomorrow morning; Rawign is scheduled to be on duty then." Of course he was. There was some kind of healer meeting going on with apprentices and - he didn't know details, only that he intended to be on the other side of the Weyr, because he half-expected some kind of revolt. If they were staging a mass walkout, Shmee could handle it. "Otherwise he's on the night shift when everyone is asleep." He knew the healer's schedule mainly because he refused to bother any of the others -- he rather viewed the candidate as a pet.

Was that necessary?-- Jessereth is on this side of the jungle.
Since he wasn't out front, I suspected as much. And yes it was. I don't like him much.
Do you have a reason for that, or is it just because you generally don't like Selenitas riders?
I have a problem with anyone who could turn their back on their wingleader because of a mistake.
And the fact that he was at That Place --
-- I don't believe that for a second. I don't. I refuse.

Ciceroth snorted from where he was sprawled out, but gave up trying to argue reason with Ka'rys. It wasn't as though he thought much of Jessereth's anyway. Not his problem and he was betting on RysHis over the brownrider in a fight if it came down to it -- although he did curl his wings under slightly, in case he needed to spring to flight quickly. Just in case.

[reqqy]

He saw it coming. That much, at least, the brownrider had taken from the north. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that the smaller man had thrown a punch (although he was beginning to wonder if people here just stood and took whatever was thrown at them) but the speed was definitely a bit surprising. Now, Z'hin had absolutely no intention of evading; he bent into his knees, rolling his shoulders, the punch rocking him a little as he absorbed the impact. He had no intention of evading, but it was still a bit disturbing to find that he probably couldn't have if he'd wanted to. Ka'rys was fast. The pain radiating from his eye was familiar and almost welcome. Quick, definitely, but the Weyrleader didn't have much for power. Which meant, in all likelihood, that his chosen fighting style had little to do with throwing punches, or he certainly wouldn't have survived Fort as such a small bronzerider.

As soon as it was clear that the single punch was as far as Ka'rys was going to go, Z'hin straightened, shaking out his head with a wry smile and bringing his fingers to the side of his face, feeling at it ruefully. Definitely a Fort bronzerider. Arrogant as all get-out and not inclined to take any crap from someone lower on the food chain. "I usually like things to match, but...I'll pass on this one. Point taken." The words covered the soft click of a dagger sliding back into place in its wrist sheath. He'd been prepared. As always. The eye that wasn't already beginning to swell shut revealed a certain distraction, however.

Jessereth's muscles bunched, straining beneath his dark hide. His eyes whirled with a quickening anger. You can't get in here, HinMine stated quite reasonably. But Jessereth wasn't in a mood to be reasoned with. He attacked you. I was pushing him. So what? It's not as if I haven't been hit before. What if he attacks again? Then I'll deal with it. I don't need you to fight my battles for me. You know that. Now calm down. He shouldn't have touched you, Jessereth replied sullenly, his agitation subsiding, but not his anger. He was half-tempted to vent it on the idiot bronze over there, but knew that would have HinMine flaying him. With a soft growl, he plunked onto his side and pawed the earth with a forelimb, watching the treeline still. He didn't like this. Why His always had to go off where he couldn't was beyond him.

"Exciteable creature," Z'hin commented softly, flashing Ka'rys that same quirky smile, as if it were the most common thing in the world for the brownrider to take a shot to the eye. He didn't miss how the bronzerider seemed to be logging his exit strategy just a moment ago. Did he really think that a man with a tongue like Z'hin's could have survived in the north if he had a quick temper, too? He would have ended up knifed in a brawl, as like as not. Then again, he usually kept a much closer rein on his tongue, but the man had his reasons for testing Ka'rys. And, for all that he'd just been punched, the Weyrleader still didn't strike him as altogether unyielding. No, that reaction was pretty mild compared to what Z'hin would normally have expected.

He sniffed mildly. "Tomorrow morning...I'll keep that in mind." Something strange, there. Z'hin didn't entirely trust Ka'rys. Oh well. What was the worst that could happen if he showed up at the infirmary tomorrow? The brownrider wanted to speak with Kalierre, as well, so it all worked out. "Nice punch, by the way," he added, in perfectly friendly fashion. There was definitely something to be said for speed. Z'hin himself wasn't what you'd call fast on his feet, but he could whip out a punch as well as the best of them - and had on plenty of occasions. "So I suppose you're out running, then? Do this every morning?" He hardly seemed phased at all, but the brownrider had clearly dropped the sarcasm, even if he didn't seem any more formal than he'd acted from the start.

You disgust me. So harsh. Why you let people trample all over you... Shells, Jess. Lay off, will you? I was being a jerk and he called me on it. Normally the brown would agree with his rider, but he did not like Ciceroth or His at all.

[glamourie]

Ciceroth's eyes whirled, rapidly, and he flung himself into the air with practiced ease - only to land roughly on the other riverbank, a few steps away from Jessereth but close enough that if the brown made a more prominent move toward the forest, he would be ready. He stretched out, claws digging into the sand and ground beneath him, back arching slightly as his wings clamped tighter - closer to his back. He did not look at Jessereth directly, but the lazy way he circled, followed by the comfortable sprawling he took, was enough to reveal that he had no intentions of moving back to his side of the river. The brownrider didn't have him worried. He trusted RysHis. The dragon was another story. If he was going to try to be a threat to RysHis, then Ciceroth was going to see to it that what danger he posed was minimal. The question was, would the other dragon be foolish enough to try to barrel through the forest? The trees were almost as dangerous as he was.

Do not come out this way. He did not elaborate on what he meant. He did not need to.

Ka'rys's gaze lingered on Z'hin, measuring, waiting, watching. If the slight stare was impolite, he felt it was justified. He expected a retaliation, and when one did not come immediately, he was slightly surprised. It took force to keep his gaze on Z'hin's face and not looking over him for any hint of weapons.

"No," he lied, in response to the brownrider's question. There was no hint of the lie on his face, either; he was very good at lying when he needed to, though he usually tried to avoid it. However, the last thing he wanted was to give a possible advantage to someone who he did not trust remotely, and he was not above changing his routine slightly to accommodate the bending of the truth, either. "I go running when it suits me. I hardly have time to do it every day. Only when I have some free time." Well, that wasn't entirely a lie. He sacrificed sleep to make time for his exercise regime, but Z'hin needn't know that. He chose not to reply to the 'compliment' about his punch; he hadn't meant for it to be impressive, merely to emphasize a point, and since Z'hin dropped the annoying topic, so too did he.

It puzzled him, though, why Z'hin was bothering to make small talk. They were not friends. And he was not going to sit and accommodate it. Instead, he started backwards, turning but only half way so that he did not present his back to the brownrider and could see him out of the corner of his eye, watch his every movement. He'd started it. So, fine. He would end it. "I have things I should be doing, and I promised Ciceroth I would play with him." A slight lack of detail was intentional; he'd meant to swim with him and they would, just not at the side of the river where the brown and his rider happened to be. Further down near Ciss's rocks, perhaps. That was a generally better spot to lurk anyway. At least there he had something of a home-field advantage; he knew the area very well. The jungle was a lot less comforting to him. "He'll grow restless if I linger too long. Enjoy collecting your poisonous roots, brownrider."

When you near the other edge I will move. I still don't think you should have hit him.
He deserved it. We'll go to your rocks. Maybe you'll luck out and Hepaticath will come visit.
You'd sulk.
So?

[reqqy]

Jessereth's head swung about, and the brown very nearly growled at Ciceroth on general principle, but Z'hin's mind reined him in sharply. For now, he is king. Don't go there. The fact that the rider had to put it into words said much. Jessereth was hardly ever in the mood to politic, but especially not with His being slapped around somewhere in the trees. A mixture of amusement and trepidation washed over their link. Not addressing the brown's thoughts directly, HinMine simply reiterated, Play nice, with a firm finality. Thus the brown settled for watching Ciceroth closely, imagining the bronze's hide slashed with green. That calmed him just a little.

Z'hin merely shrugged at Ka'rys's reply, not at all put off by the unyielding stare. He was well-used to distrust. Well-used. "Makes sense," the brownrider offered, non-committal. It was possible that the bronzerider spoke the truth. The dearth of detail, however - truth or not - clearly suggested that the Weyrleader didn't want Z'hin to know when he ran. Paranoid much? Hiding something? Almost certainly. No. Definitely. Everyone was hiding something, even if they were the only ones who would even find it important. People and their secrets.

The wingrider audibly let out a sigh when it became apparent that Ka'rys was going to run off. "Hold on, will you?" Z'hin stepped closer, treating the Weyrleader as if he were a timid animal as opposed to a human being. There was nothing whatsoever threatening about the brownrider's manner, though he wouldn't be surprised if Ka'rys reacted poorly. Northern riders tended to be oh so very jumpy. Quite a bother, actually. Z'hin had been around danger - in various forms - all his life, and he didn't find all the twitchiness necessary. "You're impossible to catch out in private, you know that? Of course, I like to be busy myself, so maybe that's the problem. "

Would Ka'rys take that negatively? Like as not. Oh, yes, Z'hin was just itching to get Ka'rys on his own so he could plunge a dagger into his chest. Fortunately, the brownrider kept the sarcasm to himself. "We brought a girl with us from Fort." Nothing like getting straight to the point, eh? "Six turns old. She was...cornered. I didn't realize right away - probably just tired - but she looks...Well, I suppose I was wondering if you perhaps had a daughter at Fort of about that age? There is a resemblance."

Although Z'hin was a rather open man, he normally didn't participate in small talk just to talk. He wasn't sure how he felt about this man possibly being Kalerary's father. The brownrider probably had no right to judge another man in that regard, but the truth of the matter was simple enough. He wouldn't be handing Kalerary over unless he felt it the right thing to do for her. Kale's life was essentially his. Not in that he intended to control her. Just that it had become his when he saved her life, and he would not squander it on a man who would not raise her as a child should be raised. Kalerary trusted him. There was something about a child's trust...that made it nearly impossible for you to porposefully betray it.

Z'hin watched Ka'rys narrowly, all semblance of casual amiability vanished.

[glamourie]

Hold on? Ka'rys tensed and immediately took a step back to reclaim the respectable distance he and Z'hin had between them. Half of that was paranoia. If someone punched him, he'd expect to be punched back. An eye for an eye; you do to me, I do to you logic. He did not want to be on the receiving end of a punch from someone who was considerably bigger than him. Z'hin was big enough that he could definitely hurt him, and Ka'rys did not have his blades with him if their disagreement escalated into a full blown fight. Yes, he trusted Ciceroth, yes, he thought he had an advantage in terms of speed and agility and from the fact that Z'hin had taken the punch without response, he was betting that the brownrider knew it. But he was out of weapons and he knew physical strength wasn't his best. He did not want to get into a full blown fight, and he definitely wasn't going to give Z'hin a chance to be close enough to hit him with any level of ease. He probably still could from where he was at, but the impact would be far lessened. Far, far less. He probably wouldn't even lose his balance. Probably.

He could have offered a flurry of excuses for why it was hard to catch him out and about on his own, but the honest truth was that of late he'd simply been busy. It was an odd change for him. There were times when he was alone, and out of his weyr, but he was not about to tell Z'hin what his schedule was so that he knew that. None of his business, and honestly, Ka'rys was uncomfortable enough as it was. Especially since no punch had come. He'd expected one. It confused - and irritated - him that there was no retaliation. Sit back and take it like a man? Hmph.

Stop being so critical, came a scolding reply from Ciceroth, who made himself comfortable without looking at Jessereth. He could still see him out of his peripheral vision, and that was all he needed. He was not remotely intimidated by Jessereth, although he was sorely tempted to throw himself over onto the brown and sit on him. Not violent. Just. Flop. He deserved to be sat on for being so rude. There was little that Ciceroth disliked as much as blatant, uncalled for rudeness. Which was why he was scolding RysHis, actually. He baited you. You called him on it. He mouthed off. You hit him. You're even. He didn't attack back, be grateful for it instead of using it as an excuse to look down on him. If he'd attacked back, there would be trouble. It is better this way, don't you see? Why must you always look for problems where there are none?

You're so willing to believe the best of people. People are liars. People are cheats. People deceive. We deceive; he deceives too. He can't be telling the truth about where he was gone and --

Z'hin's words cut his response to Ciceroth off most effectively; derailing his thoughts as if he'd just been presented with an inescapable brick wall. He stared at Z'hin, openly. Six turns old -- Kalerary...? No. Not possible. Kalerary would be with her mother and Leradi would have torn some stranger skin, muscle and tissue from bone for daring to come near the girl. She was vicious enough to do it with a smile on her face if it kept her safe. There was no way Kalerary could have been cornered without Leradi knowing it. No way, just not possible -- But Leradi was on a fighting wing. She was brilliant, though. Faster to turn than most greenriders, faster with a blade, she honestly at times had scared him - but -

"Describe her. Hair and eye color. Details." There was no warmth in his voice, but there was no malice, either; the only emotion that showed through was blatant caution. Anyone could say they had his child, lure him away. He'd need to know it was Kalerary. He'd need to see her. He didn't answer the question, he knew, but shard it, he had to know if it was true. Illogical though it may have been, he needed to hear the description before he could believe.

[reqqy]

Such an annoying reaction. Z'hin wasn't exactly unused to people treating him like he was some sort of wild beast, but it still managed to bother him every time. He was very careful to always be unthreatening. This was a part of his demeanor that was both fundamental and affected. In essence, he was naturally laidback, and he simply made certain that his actions and words did nothing to convince people otherwise. He wasn't particularly a fan of playing the wariness game. The truth of the matter was simple enough, after all. If someone is notably tense or nervous around you, it's quite difficult not to get nervous yourself, and that state of high-strung hypersensitivity was not one that Z'hin enjoyed. It was tiresome.

Oh, but he'd certainly snagged the bronzerider's attention, hadn't he? The brownrider couldn't resist a small smile. On another level, he noted that Ka'rys obviously must have a child of about that age and said child had to be of some importance to the man. It was not, after all, a foregone conclusion that the simple fact that you'd fathered a child meant you also cared about what came of that child. Z'hin didn't know what to make of that and so didn't try. Kalerary was already an integral part of his life. When it came right down to it...he was fond of her. The brownrider had missed his younger sisters dreadfully, and while Kalerary was far too young to be one of them - and too old to be a substitute for the child that Z'hin had not yet (or did not know he had) fathered - she still reminded him enough of his pre-Selenitas days that he could not resist growing attached.

A brow rose mildly at the Weyrleader's clipped response, but he found himself falling into line despite himself. Sharding northern training. "Small for her age. Grey eyes. Maybe blue in a certain lighting. Dark brown hair. Pierced ears. Blue studs." He paused in his clipped delivery, a startling attention to detail suddenly rearing up as he expanded on the description. "Her eyes are set wide and large in her face. She's possessive, and startlingly vocal for a child raised in that environment. Answers to Kalerary. And Kale, which is what I usually call her. I've offered finding her more feminine clothing, but she seems to like what she has, even though it's masculine and a bit large. She seemed to be alone when I found her."

He shrugged then, watching Ka'rys's reaction. That should be enough information for him. Do we have to stay? Jessereth had grown tired of his mental games that put Ciceroth in various states of dreadful injury. For the moment, yes. But you don't want to give her back. That would complicate things considerably, yes, but it would be just as strange if I continued to take care of a child who looks strikingly similar to this man and never mentioned anything to him. I knew the girl would be trouble. It was better than the alternative. She's far too young to be used that way. Bleeding heart. Stone.

Jessereth let out a draconic sigh. He didn't want to stay here with the bronze.

[glamourie]

"That's not possible."

The disbelief was obvious, not just from Ka'rys's words, but the stunned expression he wore, as if Z'hin had just backhanded him. Fists and hands weren't needed with words like that. His heartbeat raced, partially from surprise, part from disbelief, and in part, from honest terror. The idea of Kalerary being alone at Fort made his blood run cold. While he could usually hide his emotions decently, where children was concerned, everything changed. And Kalerary was the reason for that, so naturally the mere mention of her sparked a chain reaction he could not control. Fear. Anxiety. Anger. Curiosity. Concern. The sudden surge of emotions was almost enough to distract him from where he was and what was going on; certainly he felt disoriented and dazed, a sensation he did not like nor welcome. Only the conscious need for self-preservation kept him from gripping one of the nearby trees for support and sliding down to the ground.

It had to be a lie. The description was accurate - and the nickname reminded him of Leradi - but it had to be a lie. Had to be. His mind refused to wrap around the concept, and yet -- was it such a bad thing? He'd missed Kalerary terribly. The last time he saw her she was still wearing diapers, calling him "papa" and Ciceroth "Cissy" much to the bronze's dismay. She doubtlessly had grown and, from the description that Z'hin offered, had taken after her mother.

Her mother! Her MOTHER!

"It's not possible that she's here. Leradi would rip you limb from limb and leave you bleeding on the ground for kicks if you so much as touched that child without her express consent," he murmured, but his heart wasn't entirely in it, because he wasn't entirely sure he believed -- "She would tear your skin from bone -- there's no way, just no way, she would ever allow a stranger to make off with Kalerary. She fought me on bringing her here in the first place. There's no way she'd let you do that." Just no way. He stared at Z'hin for a moment, and then took another step back. "How did you get her away from her mother without Leradi following you here, bent on tearing you apart? That's not like her - not like her at all..." And he'd said she was cornered. Cornered - did someone know who she was? His enemies? ... He hated that idea more than words. But her mother could protect her. By Faranth, there were few people that greenrider couldn't take down if she wanted to...

Unless he'd killed Leradi? No. No, he didn't mention her, and Z'hin - no. Just no. His mind reeled, and only the steady comforting presence of Ciceroth kept him from collapsing. The bronze was considerably more calm and confident than he was. Do not assume the worst; perhaps she was out on an attack squad and does not know. We will find out. The hatchling will know where her mother is. He paused in his explanation, trying to keep Ka'rys steady; it was not the easiest task, considering that His was highly considering cutting out the brownrider's heart. Snatching a child from her home and probably her mother - it was not the best show of integrity. He may well have meant well. Would you really want to return her if she is here? If it is her?

[reqqy]

Z’hin’s gaze was unyielding as it rested unwaveringly on Ka’rys’s face. Unyielding and entirely inscrutable. It was, in the end, the truth behind the smile, this emotionless intensity. He noted the flush in the man’s pale skin. Elevated heartbeat, increased blood pressure. The unfocused cast to the man’s eyes, which were slightly dilated. Ka’rys had broken out into a sweat, as well, noticeable because the sweating from his run had already stopped (a detail that was a fair indication of the man’s solid physical condition). All these things made it clear that the shocked expression was not feigned. People could fake expressions – how well Z’hin knew! – but they couldn’t recreate the physiological reaction. At least not easily. It took a certain conditioning that was more or less extensive self-deception to do so, at any rate, and that was something few enough people ever mastered successfully. Did he feel any sympathy for the man? No. Not really.

In the end, regardless of the circumstances, the fact remained that it was Ka’rys who had made the choice to leave Kalerary behind at Fort. Whatever the reason, the decision’s conclusion left the six-turn-old at the mercy of men who would have gladly used and killed her simply because they could. Z’hin had no sympathy for the father who had left her to that. None whatsoever. It was difficult, truly, for him to react in any other way when her terror was still fresh in his mind. The way she’d clung to him – not really because she trusted him, but because he had stopped it. Because, however frightening he was, it was less frightening than what she would have faced without him. A six-turn-old.

“Of course it’s possible,” the brownrider returned coldly. Of course it was. If it weren’t…she wouldn’t be here. Did Ka’rys even hear him? Probably not, given the man didn’t respond. Shock? Served him right. It served him right.

No, the Weyrleader merely went on to say it was impossible yet again. Leradi. It took a moment for Z’hin to peg her as Kalerary’s mother. The girl hadn’t mentioned her at all. Not once. He highly doubted anyone had really been looking after the child, given the state he’d found her in. Given the undeniable truth that there was no one there to protect Kale…not even the corpse of a woman who had died to defend her. Not even that.

He would have had to have been utterly blind not to note the way Ka’rys was looking at him. Z’hin’s eyes narrowed. If he were merciful…If he were wise… But Z’hin was an older brother, foremost, an older brother whose mother had passed on early, leaving it to him to look after his younger siblings. The situation with Kalerary was far too emotional for him for the brownrider to respond with his usual pragmatic tact. He saw the weakness, and he lashed out at it, throwing all consequences to the wind. “She wasn’t there when Kale was harried. No one was. I don’t know this Leradi, but she’s either dead, or she abandoned her daughter for whatever reason. I suppose I could have left your daughter there to the wolves. Ignored the tears and pushed her away when she clung to me. I suppose I could have done that. Frankly, I don’t care whose daughter she is, although I swore I’d beat the bastard senseless if I found him. For leaving her to that.”

If nothing else, the cold anger in his voice was undeniable. He hadn’t intended to be so open about it, but the damage was already done, and, in his usual fashion, Z’hin refused to back down. Stubborn as ever. For the first time since the beginning of this encounter, Jessereth was genuinely worried. HinMine. This is not a good time for this. Do you hear me? There was no answer. You can’t let yourself lose control. I’m not going to. Your hand. The brownrider glanced down, noting the fist and forcing his fingers to relax. The white darkened as bloodflow came back into the digits.

[glamourie]

... He was going to hit him. The thought occurred to Ka'rys only for a brief second before he flung himself back away from Z'hin, not out of fear of the brownrider but his own lack of self-control. He could very easily picture that face rendered to bloody tatters beneath his nails, and the anger he felt was very clear on his face. He clenched his fists and stepped back another step, not for his own safety but Z'hin's; he didn't just want to hurt him, he wanted to make the little maggot scream. He could not possibly begin to understand how he felt. He couldn't even slightly fathom the way that it felt for him to spend every single day for turns wondering if Kalerary was safe, wondering if her mother was taking care of her, unable to go back to check on her or even write, for even the slightest hint that he had ties to Fort still was death for them all. No, he couldn't ever understand. When he left Fort, he'd left his heart there with that child - and that .. ignorant... arrogant... stupid brownrider thought he had even the slightest inclination of how that felt? Thought he could even remotely understand the regret, the dread? How he'd begged Leradi to let her come with him! He'd begged and Ka'rys did not beg easily.

He took a deep breath and leaned back against one of the trees, visibly shaking from the effort it too not to break Z'hin's face. He couldn't understand. He didn't have children. It was different than anything words could describe, and he did not make an effort to explain himself. He did not owe that creature any explanations. None. It wasn't him who he'd wronged. Kalerary and Leradi were the only ones who had a right to be angry with him, and Leradi had understood what it meant to have to leave. Z'hin made it sound like he was willing. He wasn't. He did what he was told because he had to, but there were always regrets. Always. Hence the reason he pushed everyone away so effectively.

"Go right ahead, if it makes you feel better," he countered with no small amount of anger in his voice, though whether it was at Z'hin or himself was unclear even to him. He settled for a murderous look. Only Ciceroth's calming presence was enough to keep him from acting on his fury. "But you have no right to be angry at me. You aren't the one who got left there. She is." He paused, then glanced down toward his feet. Leradi wasn't there. How - when - "When I left, it was because I was ordered to. I don't expect some ignorant child to understand that. I left because I had to. Leradi refused to let Kally come with me, and I begged her. Not that it's any of your business. She insisted that Kalerary should stay with her." Her reasons were sound: he was a spy and liable to end up killed any time if caught. At Fort at least Leradi had allies. Or, she did at one point. "What was I supposed to do? Take her away from her mother? Kidnap her and bring her to a place even I was unsure of, when Fort is all any of us had known? What exactly is it you wanted me to do?"

There was nothing else he could do. He'd thought about it a lot. It wasn't a defense, though; he was honestly curious. When he'd left, Leradi was taking care of the child and no one would have threatened her. Not just for Leradi but because Ka'rys had something of a reputation at Fort and no one wanted to deal with his temper. Or Ciceroth's. He'd wanted to keep in touch and he honestly did consider going back after Kamerai and D'loro's deaths, but what good would it have done? He'd have still left her. He assumed Leradi moved on, found someone who made her happy, and that Kalerary probably had a real father in her life. It was a silly assumption but if anyone could have pulled it off, that greenrider could have.

He waited a beat, then added, "Kalerary would never have been abandoned. Leradi took more beatings than I can count to keep herself out of fighting wings to take care of her as a babe. You know nothing." Which meant that Leradi was dead. Dead, Leradi. It was a depressing thought. The only constant in his life at Fort other than Ciceroth and she was ... dead?

Rysmine... Rysmine, he said that she's here.

Freezing, Ka'rys paled visibly, recognizing that Ciceroth was right. Kalerary... at Selenitas? The thought struck him as impossible - a ridiculous idea. But that was what Z'hin said. He would have to have Ophelie find her. But how? He couldn't very well send a picture of what Kalerary looked like when he himself did not know. He was stuck. Instead, he'd have Ophelie follow Z'hin some more - she hadn't reported anything interesting, but he'd given her vague orders. Vague orders...

[reqqy]

Was it terrible that he derived some satisfaction from seeing Ka'rys's reaction? He'd struck a nerve. Unplanned though it may have been, it was still the intent when he spoke as he did. In Z'hin's mind, every negative emotion and reaction that he'd seen in Kalerary originated with the actions of this man. And Kalerary was infinitely more important to him than some idiot bronzerider's feelings. Not that this was altogether difficult when the man's feelings meant nothing to Z'hin to begin with. Did he smile when the man threw himself back, when he half-collapsed against the tree in trembling fury? The brownrider couldn't be sure. If he did, though, it was bound to be a cold, mirthless expression. Now his face was entirely blank. A stone wall.

Ka'rys was practically spitting in his anger, and the brownrider allowed him that, if only because he knew that speech would be followed by action. Right now, anyway. He forced the rage down, pinning it beneath an iron will, though he couldn't hope to begin to destroy it. That was impossible. He'd killed men for less reason than this. Excuse after excuse. Z'hin ground his teeth audibly. Excuse after sharding excuse. This was the most straightforward thing imaginable. The details were unimportant. His rational mind reasserted itself for a moment, drawing the parallel that the brownrider refused to acknowledge, but he slammed the door on that thought with staggering force.

"Then she's dead." Brutal. The truth rarely was gentle though, was it? Z'hin shrugged one shoulder, unyielding. "She's dead or you don't know her. I don't care which." Honesty should never be used in this manner, yet the brownrider didn't back down. Couldn't. "I know that much. I know what I found, and I know that you're here when you should have been there. The other details are insignificant. Betrayal and abadonment are still betrayal and abandonment, no matter the circumstances." Shards, he still resented his own mother at times for dying and leaving him there with his father and his siblings. For abandoning him. Humans weren't made to consider details like that - the pain was just the same.

That was when something finally clicked in his mind. And he laughed. A harsh sound. "You were ordered here. Why were you ordered here? You have the balls to even suggest that I've got a hidden agenda - and no, I'm not an idiot, though you haven't said it directly - and yet you were ordered here in the middle of a war. By who? Do they still pull your strings, bronzerider? You want to know what you should have done? You should have taken your weyrmate and your daughter and left. That's what you should have done. But these orders were more important, I suppose, than the safety of your own family. You have no one to blame but yourself for everything that happened with them. And I'm not angry with you for anything you've done to me. But Kalerary has no way to express her anger, now does she? She won't, either, if I can help it. She doesn't need a father like you."

HinMine! I don't care. This can't happen here. I don't care Jessereth was on his feet again. Ciceroth was mostly forgotten. What would Ciceroth's do...It was bad enough that His was attacking with everything he had, plunging the dagger deep and twisting, but openly expressing knowledge that Ka'rys must have been a traitor, at least at one point? Jessereth's head swiveled slowly, his gaze fixing on the bronze. He'd make that information known if Ciceroth dared to attack him, to the whole weyr at once.