End of a lifetime (Tag Sym)

[glamourie]

“It doesn’t make sense,” Ka’rys added with a slight shake of his head. “The poisonings were… almost a warning. A forewarning of an attack. If not for them, we wouldn’t have known to set up strongholds anywhere, or to expect an attack at all.” It wasn’t smart to be talking about those thoughts. He knew that. He did. But… he was doing so anyway. Part of it was because he needed to express his thoughts somewhere and Savitri was not an appropriate outlet, nor was S’rei due to not wanting to be around S’rei all that much. That led to him having very few people to talk to. R’wign would not want to hear anything that could possibly be taken as Benden not being completely evil incarnate, and Ka’rys didn’t really blame him on that. E’yan -- Emoyan -- was from Fort, though… which meant his logic was probably similar, at least if he thought about it much. “If they wanted to attack - which they obviously did - poisoning first seems… overkill, but also it eliminates the element of surprise completely. I don’t think they’re the ones responsible for the poisoning, which leads me to wonder… who was.”

But that was not something Emoyan could answer. It was… going to bother him endlessly. Ka’rys wasn’t an entity who let things go. Even when he tried, he couldn’t. He’d think about it until he figured it out. Puzzles were a matter of obsession for him. For hours he would sit, trying to put them together or take them apart until he had success, and a mystery was a puzzle. That particular mystery was a very important one. His mind just naturally leaned toward the idea of it being someone inside - an inside job. He didn’t want to think of Fort as having poisoned Selenitas, because if it was Fort, they were in a lot more trouble than anyone realized. Fort wasn’t Benden. They didn’t do anything without a reason.

Staring fixedly at Ophelie as Voyager released her, Ka’rys shrugged one shoulder. “She and Liette weren’t close. They were very different in personality. Ophelie’s usually pretty subdued. This is playful for her.” Which wasn’t much; the green simply took to wing and alighted up to Ka’rys’s shoulder, where she wrapped her tail around his neck. Her gaze remained snared on the bronze thoughtfully, and Ka’rys reached up with his good hand to stroke her wings. “Liette was -- a lot more playful. Sillier. She liked shiny things, and became very distracted by them. Once, Hepaticath and Ciceroth made her faint just by their mere presence.” He’d liked Liette very much. She was sweet - innocent. And she’d died trying to protect his daughter. He felt guilty for that… like he’d failed her. Some part of him had. Some part of him failed both Kalerary and Liette.

His stomach flipped over.
Ophelie chirped.

The green on Ka’rys’s shoulder watched Voyager for several moments, obviously interested in the way he sprawled across the ground. Her tail wrapped more insistently around her bonded’s throat in an undeniable show of possessiveness and the green ruffled her wings just right to make the light play off of them. She knew how pretty she was, and vanity was one of her flaws -- one of the few very noticeable ones, at that. Not that a bronze flit was terribly interesting to her. She was no queen, and most bronzes were not interested in greens. Likewise, most couldn’t keep up with her. Just as well that she stick with those who could. Never the less, he was a fascinating one. So playful…

“Should I call Ciceroth?” Ka’rys tacked on absently. “Or would you prefer help … without him…?”

[dragon]

Emoyan listened with patience and interest as Ka'rys continued on with the spoken venting of thoughts and frustrations about the seeming disconnect between poisoning and attack. And he had to agree, really, with the reasoning. Though he hadn't been giving it any thought at all ... the poisonings had had his attention, sure. But during the attack was when he'd lost Kindrith. And everything had been a mess for him since then. He really did need to get his head back in the game ... as much as Ka'rys wished to get his own mind wrapped around the puzzle to figure it out.

"I am rather convinced we have infiltrators, yes." Emoyan added, cautiously. He didn't want to start anything by airing his own thoughts... thus he had never said anything to anyone. But he knew Ka'rys was smarter than to go into a blind panic on mere musings and start a mass hysteria over it. And since Ka'rys seemed to be interested in talking to him... might as well. "There really isn't any other way for them to have accessed the stores the way they did. The seemingly random nature of the dispersal of the toxin ... I do rather think we have someone playing us from the inside. And I am also somewhat considering the possibility that they might not be connected to dragons. Someone who can blend in easily with the weyrfolk ... you know? And access the tithes, the stores, the kitchens, all without notice. As for the attack ... I can't say as I have been giving it much thought." He said, truthfully.

And he hadn't.

All he'd done was sit and mope and mourn his dragon. Like a fool. Like a heartbroken fool. "But you do have a point about it. It sounds solid to me. I suppose that would effectively rule out the insider being Benden, this attack." He scratched his head for a moment, and gave the weyr one last look around ... he wouldn't be seeing it again.

"I am sorry to hear you lost her ... I admit that I would not have wanted to lose either of my two ..." He shook his head, and then did not speak further. It was bad enough that he had lost Kindrith, but he wasn't going to say it ... desperately tried not to think it. He needed to crawl out of that trap, not dig it deeper and bury himself in the process. Especially if he was going to perform at all in his new task...

"Sure, go ahead and call him up. The trunk is loaded and ready to be moved." Emoyan nodded. "Thanks ... it helps a lot to not have to lug that thing around, all the way down the tunnels..." he pulled a deep breath, then, trying to steady his emotions somewhat. "And thank you ... for finding me a place. I ... really appreciate that, Ka'rys."

Voyager didn't move much. But his head did turn to follow Ophelie's movements, little eyes whirling quiclkly. And quite willingly he played straight into her desires of being admired. Indeed, she was a pretty little green, and he liked looking at her. Not really having had much interaction with any gold flitters, but yet having spent plenty of time around greens as he grew up, Voyager had no problem at all with admiring a green.

[glamourie]

Well… it felt better to know he wasn’t entirely paranoid. Ka’rys gazed silently at Emoyan as he considered. No, he knew for a fact that the Northern Weyrs had spies at Selenitas. It only made sense. R’non used to spy for Benden… and he’d worked for Fort for Turns, until Kamerai’s death. They’d surely been replaced, it was just a matter of finding out which rider they’d twisted to their goals, or which candidate or drudge was a mole. Did Emoyan know about his past? About why he was at Selenitas? Or did he think he’d just defected…? Ka’rys didn’t know; he didn’t really want to know, either. There were a few people from Fort who could connect it. Dark hair, equally dark eyes, slender and short -- he looked like his sister, to some degree, but it was only noticeable when they stood next to one another, and she was dead. No more compare and contrast. If Emoyan did connect that Kamerai was his sister, though… well, his allegiances until recently were surely well-known. Ka’rys was careful who he told any of that for a reason. It was unlikely his past would be overlooked just because he had Selenitas’s best interests at heart presently.

“The thing is, there’s just no way to ever… know who it was. We can’t locate the source without knowing what was being used to fuel the poisons to start with, and the healers were unable to locate the exact source. The tithes being canceled stopped it, but it was really a bandaid, not a fix,” Ka’rys commented with a slight shrug. It wasn’t T’rid he was criticizing, though. The idea for the tithes to be stopped, after all, wasn’t T’rid’s at all; it was his. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t ramble this at you. You have more pressing things to think about than who was responsible for the poisonings.” And if he was going to theory craft, it should’ve been someone who could prevent a second occurrence, rather than to Emoyan. Emoyan couldn’t do anything about it, even if he wanted to.

The sympathy for losing Liette made Ka’rys feel slightly guilty. He shook his head slowly and smiled, as best he could; it was a weak expression, but genuine nonetheless. “She died trying to save Kalerary. I can’t think of a more noble way for a fire lizard to pass, than trying to save lives. She’ll be remembered fondly.” And missed. He didn’t voice that. “Thank you, but you don’t have to offer me your sympathies, Emoyan; I’ve accepted she’s gone.” And he didn’t want Emoyan trying to comfort him; it seemed… selfish. He was fine, really. He’d miss Liette, sure, because she was his, and he’d loved her as he did anything bound to him…

Ciceroth, come here?

He felt a brush of reassurance from the bronze at his request, and turned back to Emoyan just to… be thanked? His eyebrows raised slightly and he shrugged one shoulder. “You always have a place here, as long as you wish it.” He didn’t know what else to say. Telling Emoyan the truth -- that he was his wingleader and it was his job to see to it he was taken care of -- seemed almost… cold? In some ways, at least. Ka’rys took responsibility very seriously, and he saw himself as responsible for his wing. They were his family. As wingleader, it was his job to take care of them, to see to it that if they needed anything they couldn’t get for themselves, they had it. That was what it meant to be a leader. It wasn’t just bossing people around, telling them what to do and how to do it - there required a certain level of emotional connection that he took seriously. He’d have died for anyone on his wing, and he still would. He also wanted to believe they’d do the same for him. Finding some place for Emoyan to go after Kindrith… it was the least he could do, and he owed it to him.

“Like I said. You thank me now. Wait until you get your first class,” he added, only half-joking. Candidates made his head spin. “You might want to make sure there’s a lesson on Salamandyrs in there, too - so everyone knows and doesn’t go Impressing them… just in case. I hate listening to our healers complain.”

Ruffling her wings again, Ophelie gave a sweet flute. Her gaze lingered on Voyager for a moment before she released her tail from around Ka’rys’s throat, and then bounced to the very end of his shoulder. Her little claws dug into the material of his shirt before she chattered suggestively, trying to bait the bronze onto his bonded. Surely he wanted to be higher up? -- But her interest was stolen by a woosh of air near the weyrledge and the green lifted her head just in time to see Ciceroth land there. Eyes whirling happily, she took to wing and flew over to land daintily on her bronze’s head. Her bronze. Wasn’t he lovely~?

On the edge of the ledge, Ciceroth stretched himself out and crooned. His wings folded against his back neatly and he swiveled his head around to look at Emoyan and RysHis for a moment. Then he settled down, his tail flicking back and forth patiently. They’d come to him when they were ready.

[dragon]

Emoyan figited from one foot to the other, rather unsure what to say. It was decidedly odd that Ka'rys was talking to him so much. Muchless the topic. And he really didn't have anything constructive to add to the conversation. He just ... didn't know anything. Didn't have any ideas. Nothing. But he couldn't say nothing, either... that might be taken as rude, or disintrest. Neither of which were true. Not to mention might get construed as guilt and dodging ... which also wasn't true. Though, what with this new face on Ka'rys, he was pretty sure the man wasn't going to turn around and kick him with that. Not after this show of generousity. Which was really, really appreciated.

"Well ... I don't know what to say." He admitted, finally, helplessly, with a shrug. "Thanks, I guess." And what else was there to say? Nothing, really. "Maybe someday we'll have all the answers. You know how it goes ... hindsight is clearer than foresight.

"My first class ..." Emoyan repeated, quietly. "We'll see how that goes." He nodded, before stepping back out of the way as the great bronze dragon landed on the tiny ledge. Well ... tiny comparitively. "Salamandyrs ... check. I'll try. I don't have one myself, so ... I don't really have much to go on. I may have to go around asking people who do, so I know I've got my material correct." He mentioned, more talking to himself than anyone else.

Voyager paddled his feet uncertainly for a moment, looking longingly up at Ophelie. And just when he was starting to fixing to comply to her wishes, the great big bronze turned up, and she flew to his head. The young bronze flitter deflated a bit. No wonder she wasn't impressed by him, if she had that one to lounge around on... Talk about party pooper.

But then, taken by a moment of brash inspiration, Voy took off, and flew up to where Ophelie was now seated, and joined her there with a curious cheep. See? he came, even though she moved! And see? He was good! He could sit on the big one! See? See?

Rascal figited, eyeing the giant bronze dragon for a moment, before deciding to ignore him. Emoyan nodded to the big bronze, in greeting. "Hello, Ciceroth." he said, to be polite. He didn't expect a response from the dragon, but still. "And thank you for your help."

[glamourie]

Thank you. He just kept saying that. Did Emoyan realize how… awkward that phrase was for him to hear? People didn’t thank Ka’rys. It just didn’t happen. They got huffy, assumed he was a terrible person and then ceased speaking to him. That was normal behavior around him. He’d been told quite bluntly how terrible he was at leading anything - so hearing ‘thank you’ and that he’d done something to make someone happy just… just… it was weird for him. Part of him was glad; his goal was obviously achieved, and he really didn’t want Emoyan to just fall apart from boredom. Keeping busy would keep his mind off of the emptiness that Kindrith left. He felt better knowing the idea made Emoyan grateful. But… at the same time, he doubted himself. That was a feeling he never gave voice to, but Ka’rys had zero faith in his own ability to do anything right where other living people were concerned. Organizing - and taking care of himself - that he was confident in. But not his abilities as a ‘leader’ or his people skills. He shifted his weight slightly in response to the words, but offered a slightly awkward (but genuine) smile. That was the best he could do. At least he was trying.

The topic of the poisonings was obviously better dropped, and Ka’rys let it go with ease. Thinking about classes was more appealing to him - at least it was something organized, something that worked. Setting up a schedule, bunks, that sort of thing always worked out better than trying to focus on theories. Right then!

“Uu’n would be the expert on them, I believe. His Daeluunya was the first one to be Impressed,” Ka’rys said with a slight nod. “Or if you’re looking for someone more easily accessible, K’lir has Showoff, Kalierre has Lust, Ciara has Chatti --” Ciara was probably the one of those that Emoyan knew the best, seeing as they were on the same wing. He was pretty sure that Uu’n and Ciara were somewhat involved, too, considering that they had a child, but he’d never bothered to ask. None of his business. Oh, but --! “J’on has one too, I think. That greenrider… can’t remember the name of him, but yes, definitely has a green.” He shrugged his shoulder absently. “They all Impressed from Daeluunya’s first clutch.” How did Ka’rys know? Simple: he kept an eye on most clutches, even if he didn’t attend them. That particular one, R’wign had Impressed at as well, which meant it was more easy to remember. Plus, anyone with their head on straight knew to avoid salamandyrs after that huge clutch of Dael’s. The creatures were positively evil.

Ophelie’s head cocked to the side as she watched Voyager, and she fluted sweetly to him as he came to land on Ciceroth’s head. Did he like her big bronze? She nudged one of Ciceroth’s ridges before bouncing over to sit next to Voyager. From there, they could see everything, didn’t he see? Look at how wonderful the view was -- She preened prettily, flaring her wings for all to see. Such a very pretty view, all the way down. Her bronze was tall, he was, so it made him a perfect perch.

Ignoring the fire lizards on his head, Ciceroth crooned again to Emoyan - his only response (out loud) to the expression of gratitude. He relaxed himself easily, and Ka’rys made a vague gesture in his direction, “He says you’re welcome.” It wasn’t personal, but -- Ciceroth just did not bespeak people. He had a serious problem with it. When forced to call weyrlings for one of the lessons, Ciceroth was absolutely furious. He said it made him feel awkward, but Ka’rys secretly suspected it was sheer snobbery on the bronze’s part; he didn’t like anyone else quite as much. Whatever it was, he was better off not discussing it in front of the former-bluerider. “We can start loading anything you’ve got ready onto him, if you like. Should save us some time.”

[dragon]

Emoyan nodded, and started making an effort to remember those names, so he knew who to go talk to about salamandyrs. Before Kindrith had gone and gotten himself aced, Emoyan would not have had a problem with it. Memorizing things he did second nature. But now? He had no idea how well he could remember. But he was going to try. It was time to get himself back on track... however that might be possible. "Thanks." Emoyan said, again, for the info. Though, he kept it short at that, having noticed that every time he said that Ka'rys got a little more fidgity. As if it was something ... unpleasant ... to deal with.

Ka'rys was such a strange individual. There was no doubt about it. But, what ever tripped his trigger, fine. Emoyan wouldn't deliberatly make the man uncomfortable. He nodded to Ciceroth, in acknowledgment of the reply. "Well ... actually ... all I have is in that trunk there. I think he can just ... pick it up. It's pretty sturdy. What do you think?" Emoyan asked. He really didn't know what to think ... he had never dealt with a bronze on a daily basis, and as such had no feel for what the beast could grasp, lift, dexterity, or any of that. He had known, for Kindrith. But Kindrith had been blue. And with much smaller fingers, as it were.

Voyager paddled around on Ciceroth's head, and then sat down, curling his tail and inclining his head at Ophelie. With a small curious chirp for her, he took a moment to see what it was she was looking at. Seeing nothing of interest, he looked at her again, with another admiring chirp.

[glamourie]

Hnn, trunk. Ka’rys cocked his head to the side, then walked over to examine the specified object inquisitively. It looked durable, yes, but that wasn’t so much his concern as its sheer size. So long as it was big enough, Ciceroth would simply be able to carry it; if it was too small, he wasn’t sure that the bronze could grip it without causing the objects within damage. It looked big enough, but he wasn’t that great a judge of size (everything looked huge next to someone who was as small as Ka’rys -- and he was small, even if his attitude wasn’t). There was only one way to be completely sure if Ciceroth could simply lift the thing (and save them any extra work aside from pushing it over toward the dragon): asking. So Ka’rys did the logical thing and turned to the bronze, head cocked to the side in a show of curiosity, before asking out loud, “Do you think you can lift this without crushing it, Ciss, or will we need to strap it onto you in some way?”

The dragon swiveled his head around to look at the trunk before edging across the weyrledge. It wasn’t really designed for a creature as large as Ciceroth, and it showed. Even among bronzes, he was an impressive size; from nose end to the tip of his tail, Ciceroth was as long as Aslath had been, making him positively massive for his color. The weyr that Emoyan inhabited was designed for a blue, and… well, Ciceroth dwarfed it; he was able to perch on the ledge, yes, but not with any level of comfort. His wing span was too large for that. So it was that he looked quite comical, trying to squeeze in enough to get a good look at the trunk that RysHis indicated, and his tail hung off the very edge of the ledge in the process. Ciceroth crouched down, mindful of the two flitters on his head, and crooned absently.

I think I can lift it without dropping it or causing it to come to harm. It does not look too terribly fragile. Does he have anything inside that he would be worried about breaking?

“He thinks he can lift it,” Ka’rys translated, gesturing vaguely to the dragon. Why were both of the flits perching on Ciceroth’s head of all places, as if they owned him? Well - Ophelie did in some ways, but only in so much as they shared him… and Ka’rys was pretty sure it was Ciceroth who did the owning, not the other way around… “He asks if you have anything expressly fragile or breakable; if you do, he’d be more comfortable if we strapped it onto him just for the sake of safety.”

Perching on the bronze’s head, Ophelie flared her wings again and then turned to look down over the line of the dragon’s back. Curious (prompted by his moving), she bounced down the ridges, then the line of his body until she actually slid down his tail. Chattering in surprise (with Voyager temporarily forgotten in her distress), the little green latched onto the end of Ciceroth’s tail by biting down, and then hung limply as if that could prevent her from falling. Never mind that she had wings and could fly. Like a bizarre tail charm, Ophelie remained latched to the fork at the end of Ciceroth’s tail, and her own waved back and forth as colorful confusion swirled in her eyes. Slip and sliiiide! Wouldn’t Voyager help her…?

[dragon]

"Ah, well ... the only things really considered fragile - ish ... would be my gitar. And it's well padded in everything else. I haven't got any wine left, to speak of." Emoyan confessed. Usually he had a bottle or two. But after having lost Kindrith? They'd vanished in an alarming hurry. Emoyan shrugged. "If he wants it lashed on, we can do that. Not a big deal." He looked around the weyr, and then went over to Kindrith's old things. There was a rope in there, somewhere. It was something Emoyan had always kept handy...

Ah, there it was. He pulled it out of the tangled mess of harness, glad that it was, for the most part, still tied up in itself, instead of strewn all over. He picked at the knot around the middle of the skein, and then shook the knot out. Twirling the skein loosely, he watched as the end dribbled toward the floor, uncoiling from around the main bundle of rope. That done, he shook the rest of it out. Taking one end of the loose rope, he trailed it all the way to the trunk, and then started fastening that end to the trunk securely.

"I'm not sure how you want this done." Emoyan said, truthfully, aware that every rider and dragon had thier own preferences on how things tied to them should be laid ... that and again he wasn't used to dealing with something as massive as Ciceroth. "Direct me how you want it done." he added, aware that Ka'rys would be really put out to have to mess with lashing something down with a busted arm.

Voyager scampered happily after Ophelie, and then nearly suffered the same fate as her. Though he saw her slipping before he himself started feeling it. With a squeak, he latched on to a ridge, to keep from sliding right on down, bouncing off of Ophelie and tumbling into mid air. he considered her dangling form for a moment. How to fix? Well ... okay ... He leaned forward, and started paw-over-pawing down the ridges on Ciceroth's tail until he could reach her with his head. Voyager peeped an apology, and then grabbed a hold of her with his jaws. Straining backward, he started slowly pulling her back up again. Why he never thought of flying, was anyone's guess, considering he loved to do just that. He was young, and stupid, and if Rascal had seen him, the older brown would have faceplanted a few times over in embarrassment.

[glamourie]

Only a gitar? Hnn. Looking over at Ciceroth, Ka’rys raised an eyebrow. The dragon rumbled slightly in amusement, his eyes rapidly spinning. Obviously the bronze found it highly entertaining that the only thing the former blue rider owned was a musical instrument. Considering the only valuables Ka’rys kept were knives and daggers, he supposed he could understand it, though -- at least, he could sympathize. His ‘instrument’ of choice was pointy, sharp and liable to draw blood. Everyone needed a hobby. His was being excessively paranoid (he literally slept with a dagger under his pillow). Or maybe that was less of a hobby and more of a lifestyle. Certainly he’d been that way for as long as he could remember, but he’d grown up in Fort Weyr, as one of the smallest of the ‘brats there, and he’d never had a parent to speak of. Being an orphan meant learning to fight to survive, and he’d flourished in the north. He blamed his own lack of personal belongings on that. What was Emoyan’s excuse…? Then again, he was northern too, wasn’t he? Not like others who transferred in…

“I think if the only thing that could be considered fragile is your gitar, he can just carry it; it’ll be easier than strapping it on. He was just worried about damaging anything fragile, like jars of liquid or some figurine collection. He’s used to lugging around trunks with nothing but riding supplies, clothes, blankets and the like; mine are all like that… plus daggers.”

Which reminded him that he’d lost his favored dirk in the attack. Kalerary had it. How upset she’d been, too. The little girl had thrown her arms around him and cried in distress on his shoulder, promising to replace the weapon and how sorry she was that she’d borrowed it, would he ever forgive her -- the whole response nearly broke his heart. A dirk was worth nothing in comparison to her safety, and he’d told her she needn’t worry about something so trifle. She’d disagreed, and just continued to cry. Ka’rys did not know how to react to crying women, but he did know that Kalerary’s level of upset was enough to break his heart. There were things far more important to him than daggers, and she was one of them - didn’t she know her safety mattered most of all? Or had he given her that impression accidentally? Sometimes Ka’rys wished he could communicate better. He wasn’t very good at expressing his feelings.

The two fire lizards on Ciceroth’s back were beginning to agitate him. Typically, he only had Ophelie and he was used to the little Beauty; she sat right on his head, made barely a peep, and preened. But the addition of the second one led to her tumbling down his back, biting his tail, and then another fire lizard nearly doing the same. It was tempting to lash his tail around to rid himself of both of them and only self-control kept him from doing so. However, he did turn around to look at both of them mildly. If they were even slightly observant, his irritation would be made clear. He lifted his tail carefully and curled it around so that both fire lizards were hanging over the ledge, and then rumbled, watching them intensely.

Ophelie squawked as she was grabbed by Voyager and flailed her wings around in surprise. However, just as he pulled her back toward the ridges (and she grabbed onto one of them for support), the platform she was clinging to moved. Frightened temporarily, she latched more firmly and looked around, before turning to look at Voyager again. Then she looked down to find -- solid ground. Her head lifted and she meekly backed away from Ciceroth’s gaze before chattering to Voyager suggestively; maybe they should leave the BigBronze alone, he did not look at all happy with them…

[dragon]

"Well, alright, then. That makes it nice and simple. And yes - the only fragile thing I own is my gitar... and it's not as fragile as it seems. I've dropped it plenty often enough to find that out." He mentioned, with a half grimmace. Many a time he'd thought he'd just irreplably smashed his gitar, only to discover all he'd done was scratched it. Which had always been a releif. Granted, doing such things to his instrument always ruined the tuning. But ... that was easy enough to fix.

"I don't know where we're going, so ... I guess ... after you?" Emoyan said, finally, watching distractedly as his flitter was brought back up onto the weyr ledge. What the ...?!

Voyager, upon seeing the rock appear beneath Ophelie, stretched out and lowered her safely to the stone, before letting go and hopping off, himself. With a chirp, he glanced at Ciceroth, and then followed Ophelie away, to where ever her little heart desired. Rascal watched the two of them for a moment, and then looked pointedly elsewhere.

"I used to have some wine ... but ... I think I used it all up." Emoyan confessed. He normally only drank a little bit occassionally, just for the taste of it. But lately ... he'd used up every drop he'd owned.

[glamourie]

It was highly unlikely that Emoyan dropping a gitar equated to a bronze’s strength, but Ka’rys had some tact and kept that thought to himself. He silently requested Ciceroth to pick up the trunk, then turned to Emoyan as the bronze moved. “I think we should walk down there. It’s a bit of a ways, but it’ll show you the layout of Selenitas better on foot,” he explained. Most riders took advantage of dragons and flew up and out of the canyon. The walk was quite a long one, but one that Emoyan might have to commute relatively often should he get a particularly unruly set of candidates. Most dragon riders wouldn’t mind ferrying him around the Weyr but better to get in the habit of walking early than anything else. Besides, with the attack, the majority of the layout was under reconstruction, being changed dramatically due to destruction. The whole weyr’s layout was under a massive remodel… except the candidate barracks. Ironic, really. “Besides… at the risk of sounding crass, you probably can use the fresh air. You look like you’ve been cooped up in here for too long.”

Ciceroth eyed the fire lizards for a moment before reaching over to grasp the trunk in his claws. It took some doing, but he managed to grab it carefully, and he turned to watch his rider before his gaze fell on Emoyan again. Encouragingly, he leaned over to nudge the former bluerider. He didn’t talk to anyone but Ka’rys, no, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of showing fondness - and the newly dubbed Candidate Master was someone he was fond of, even if he hadn’t always agreed with Kindrith. His eyes whirled his affection, before he flapped his wings and ascended up into the air. The few wing beats scattered small particles of rock and sand up into the air, and then Ciceroth’s shadow disappeared as he ascended.

Twittering pleasantly to Voyager, Ophelie flipped her wings… and then turned to chirp at Rascal. Inquisitively, she cocked her head to the side and then took to flying. She glided over to perch next to the brown before fluting pleasantly to him, obviously in a better mood after being rescued. But -- what was he doing? Why was he hiding? Silly thing, he should play with them. She flipped the end of her tail and tilted her head pleasantly, her eyes whirling. Why didn’t he come and play…? Did he not like her? The idea of another fire lizard disliking her had never before occurred to Ophelie. She possessed such a pleasant demeanor that, on average, she was extremely well-liked.

“You’ll have trouble finding wine with it being in such a rare supply here,” Ka’rys said as he started toward the doorway of the weyr. The fire lizards went ignored. While he felt run-off of Ophelie’s curiosity, he didn’t respond to it. Nothing for him to say really - she wasn’t trying to interact with him. It was Voyager and Rascal that had her attention, same as Emoyan having his. “Blossom wine is possible to attain with some effort, but…” He had no intentions of helping Emoyan procure wine. Not with his emotional state so fragile. Dipping into the bottle wasn’t the best way to deal with a problem, he knew, and he wouldn’t lead the former blue rider into temptation that way. “Me, I just drink a lot of flower tea of late. Surprisingly it’s pleasant, especially when sweetened. Until lately, I wasn’t that much of a tea drinker, but I find myself more and more pleased with the recipes the kitchens are devising. At least they’re not bitter.”

[dragon]

Emoyan heaved a slow sigh. "You know ... I probably could." He agreed, reluctantly. Not for the walk, but the realization of how much he'd holed up. He didn't mind walking in the slightest ... he and Kindrith had done a lot of ambling around together, wherever they had happened to live at the time. Here at Selenitas, thier favorite haunt to go ambling around in had been the river. Cool, damp, green even in the drought, it had been pleasant. When one could ignore the bugs, that was. He'd never walked to the candidate barracks before, though, so it would be a new route for him. And one he'd probably have down pat soon, able to walk it in his sleep.

His mouth opened silently in surprise when Ciceroth nudged him though. For a moment he seemed stuck just like that, and then he quickly rubbed the dragon's face before the bronze pulled away again, in return affection. "Uh." Emoyan commented, simply, before glancing at Ka'rys. So much unexpected was happening, this day, that it was keeping him off balance, just enough, that ... well ... it didn't hurt quite so much. For the moment, anyway. He was having to keep thinking, to keep up!

Voyager happily followed Ophelie across the weyr to where Rascal was sitting, and chirped likewise, bubbling over with frilly feelings. Rascal looked over at Ophelie again, surprised that she had come over to bother him. He tilted his head to one side, interested. He didn't not like her - and he wasn't hiding from her either. He was ... pretending to not be associated with a twit like Voyager, was what he was doing. Rascal decided he liked her well enough ... but play? With his in his current state? It wasn't the time to play. And the flitter was well aware that it was a thin little thread keeping his pet in the world of the living. Granted, since the little person had showed up it had gotten somewhat stronger. It was still weak, though. Was the little person Ophelie's pet? Rascal's attention was stolen, though, when the two men started for the exit. Oh! Not without him, they didn't! Rascal took wing, and flew to Emoyan's shoulder, perching there to go with them. He was there, he would keep his pet safe. He would make sure his pet kept breathing!

Emoyan reached up to scratch the flitter's head for a moment, as he walked out with Ka'rys. He almost shut the door behind him, but then left it open. It was an uninhabited weyr, now, no longer occupied. Might as well allow who ever wanted to, move in. Even if that was only just someone's feline. He walked down the hall with Ka'rys, listening to the shorter man talk. "Oh, I know. And I don't aim to be acquiring any wine at the moment..." For many reasons. One of them being the former Weyrwoman's death on wine. But also because he, too, was also aware of the potential trap that the winebottle held for someone in anguish. It had been handy, to have some, at the beginning. But ... it was too easy to delude himself into another easy fix. He had to figure out how to move on, without Kindrith. And wine was not the way to do it. Especially not if he was going to be instructing young people on thier way to Impression, themselves. It would be a long, hard row to hoe. But he'd do it. One way or another. He reflexively reached up and stroked Rascal's side. He didn't know what he'd do without his flitters. Especially Rascal. For being just a brown, the little fellow seemed most wise and perceptive. Maybe someday some of that would rub off on Voyager, as the youth wore off.

"I can't say as I've drunk much tea in my day, either." Emoyan remarked. "I'll have to try that. See what all the rage is about." He cracked a half-hearted half-grin at Ka'rys. "Not bitter? That's interesting. I've had very few teas that weren't bitter ..." But then, what with him not being a tea drinker, that wasn't saying a lot. And then a random thought made Emoyan chuckle.

"I hope Ciceroth suddenly appearing at the barracks doesn't give any of the candidates heart failure." He remarked. But then, that was only if any of them were even there. What with the work needing done around the Weyr, there was hardly an idle hand. Except ... his ... he'd been so absorbed in his loss he wasn't even sure what the damages were, much less how they were being handled. Which started a whole other guilt trip in Emoyan's mind. He'd been sitting around like a lunk on a log. No wonder someone had come to carve him out of it, and give him something to do...

Wrong! Wrong thought train to get started on. Stay positive... stay positive ... It was awful hard to stay positive when he felt that the best half of his soul had been ripped off and gobbled up by some unseen monster to never be seen again.

[glamourie]

Did you have to make him uncomfortable?
I meant no harm. Did I upset him?

Complicated. Ka’rys went silent as the two of them made their way into the hallway. It wasn’t because the conversation wasn’t interesting - it was. Just - he was trying to deduce if Ciceroth’s physically affectionate nature had bothered the former blue rider. It was difficult to say. He was typically very good at reading others, but -- ever since the attack, Ka’rys hadn’t trusted his judgment at all. He didn’t trust himself on much of anything. So many people around him dead, or woefully injured. Z’hin. Wynmuri. R’wign. Emoyan himself. Kalerary. Irrevocable damage, it was, and a big part of him felt responsible. Could he have prevented it? Could he have prepared them better? He’d meant to teach his wing about fighting, and he still intended to do so, but -- but it was hard to teach Southern riders what it meant to be ruthless and efficient, it was hard to make Southerners understand that when attacks came, it wouldn’t be polite, knocking on the front door sort of attacks. They came in force, explosive and damaging. Could he have better prepared Selenitas? It was doubtful. Shmee was unwilling to let anyone teach defense classes at the time, for reasons Ka’rys could not possibly fathom. Without defense classes, they were -- they had a target painted on them, and Benden took it.

Yet… somehow… they’d survived. Against all the odds, Benden left and Selenitas survived…

Rascal had most of Ophelie’s attention. She cocked her head to the side and regarded the male curiously before fluting. Why was he embarrassed by Voyager? He was just a hatchling. All hatchlings were silly; she would know, Hers had one. Didn’t he know, too, that Hers was going to fix His right up? Baaah. Well, if he didn’t, he would find out soon enough. Ophelie had utter faith in her bonded, she did; he wanted to fix the Man who came, and that meant he would. Hers always did what he said he would do, in her experience, and she trusted him. However, as the pair of humans moved out of the weyr, she took to wing and glided after them. It took one loose circle before she was able to land, daintily, on Ka’rys’s shoulder and she wound her tail possessively around his neck. Her bonded. He was the best on Pern and she wouldn’t share him again, no she wouldn’t. Only Worm could come near her chosen.

Ka’rys lifted one hand and stroked it down Ophelie’s back. His eyes were distant, as he considered. It was a miracle, that was the only explanation. A miracle come late, but a miracle nonetheless. The bronze rider bowed his head and brushed one strand of hair from his face as they walked. Casually, he glanced toward Emoyan and bobbed his head in an agreeable nod. Acquiring wine didn’t seem like that great of an idea for someone who was definitely in mourning. Actually, it didn’t sound like that great of an idea for the Weyr, period. Most everyone was in a sorry state. If they weren’t injured, they were probably emotionally tore up enough to compensate. No one escaped unscathed, not even the children. If he hadn’t been raised to hate Benden, he would’ve after the attack -- only monsters would do to someone what had been done to his child. Monsters. He was capable of many things. Ruthless, Ka’rys could be… but never children. He drew the line at that. Never, ever children. But it was his identity that caused Kalerary harm in the first place -- Benden knew who he was. How long, he didn’t know, but it made him miserable to imagine he’d caused his child harm indirectly. The wine prohibition was definitely a good thing.

“Bully R’wign into making you some sweet teas,” Ka’rys suggested with a slightly sly tone. “He’s an herbalist, but he’s very good at making teas. Probably because of his specialty. He’s healing right now though so he probably can’t do anything, but if you ask him once he’s out of the infirmary, he’ll… probably tease you immensely, then do it. He’s got a mouth on him.” Shrugging one shoulder, Ka’rys clucked his tongue and then smirked. “If the candidates are so faint of heart that they can’t handle seeing a fully grown bronze, well, they’re not fit to be candidates, are they?” Never mind that Ciceroth was arguably the largest bronze at Selenitas and, after Morsrath’s death, a definite contender for largest bronze on Pern. Salenth was his only real competition, and of the two, Ciceroth had bigger wings. It wasn’t something Ka’rys boasted about, though - considering his own size, he didn’t necessarily believe that bigger was better, but Ciceroth was quite proud of his immense size, even if he wasn’t bulky. Sinuous, he was, and graceful. Also exceedingly arrogant. “I hope Ciss didn’t make you uncomfortable. He’s very physical with people he likes, and he’s decided he likes you. Mind, he decided that quite awhile ago, but -- that’s Ciceroth for you… strange bronze…”

[dragon]

Voyager bounced across a bed he'd likely not see again ever, and not really knowing or caring about that detail. If he did return, it was likely to be because he was harrassing somebody who lived there ... taking wing, he flew through the door after the two retreating men, and the other two flitters. Abandoned! Again! How awful! Chirping, he zoomed through the doorway, and then banked hard. But, he was a bronze, not an agile green. He smacked off the far wall in the hall anyway, and then tumbled away from it before regaining his wings. Flapping wobbily for a moment, he followed the others until he caught up to land on Emoyan's other shoulder.

He meant to do that. Yeah...

Rascal just stared at the young bronze like he was an alien mutant, and then looked back at Ophelie again, glad to have a distraction from the embarrasment of a bronze. Pretty green. Pretty pretty green ... and so nice! Willing to visit, and chirp. He thrummed lightly, squinting his eyes mostly shut in semi-contentness.

"R'wign? What happened to him?" Emoyan asked, guiltily. He was becoming more and more aware of just how out of touch with reality he'd been, of late. He didn't even know who was injured, or how ... or even who had died. He'd been completely absorbed in his own loss, and the rest of the world had been a complete black out of a blur. He hadn't cared, to be bluntly honest. But now that someone had rooted him out of his hole and given him a new purpose to keep him going ... he was coming to terms with just how stupid he'd been. Even if he'd been in agony. Shards. He still was in agony. But ... it was workable now.

"I don't think it'd be seeing a bronze. It would be having one suddenly swoop down on them ... after what happened? I wouldn't be surprised if a few dropped what they were doing and ran for cover." Emoyan shrugged. "I expect people will be a bit spooky for a while to come."

Emoyan shook his head slightly. "He didn't bother me. Startled me, a little, as I never expected him to do that. But ... it is alright. I ... I didn't know he liked me." Emoyan admitted. "I'm glad to hear it, though ... it's nice to have friends." He added, quietly.

[glamourie]

Voyager’s abrupt arrival made Ophelie turn and look at him with a rapid whirl of her eyes describable only as confusion and alarm. His smack into the wall made her squeak in worry and she flared her wings as wide as she could given her position. Her gaze followed the bronze as he turned to land on Emoyan’s free shoulder and she twittered curiously to him, obviously very anxious -- was he hurt? That flying right into the wall looked very painful. She didn’t make a habit of flying into walls but she’d seen that other hideous LoudGreen do it often and she didn’t think it looked very fun. Her tail flicked over her bonded’s back in agitation and she shyly ducked behind one of her wings to hide her face from view. She was upset -- she didn’t want the bronze hurt but he was, wasn’t he? Stupid wall, and stupid corners. Though, maybe he needed to practice his wings more…? She made the turn easily, but Ophelie made turns look like they were designed just for her, with flawless grace rivaled only by other greens. She was, after all, a part-time sky dancer whenever her hide took to glowing.

Ignoring the fire lizards (he was getting very good at that), Ka’rys started up the stairs leading out of the canyon and toward the candidate barracks. The stairs opened up from a weyrledge that looked out toward the opposite side of the canyon, but there was a new addition added in the past few days: a wooden bridge spanning the gorge to make traversing both sides easier on those who did not have a dragon to ferry them around. Since the majority of the Weyr was being moved into the canyon instead of in tree houses, it was a useful change. There would be more habitation on the opposing side, instead of just rider weyrs.

“He was attacked inside,” Ka’rys explained, coming to an abrupt halt to explain. “One of the Benden riders jumped him and Tr’esn after Oquith’s maiden flight. Tr’esn came out unharmed; R’wign has -- I forget the healer term for it; his lungs are bruised… and he lost his left eye. Completely cut out. He wears a patch to hide it though.” Ka’rys had seen far worse injuries. From lost limbs to burn scars covering entire bodies - he’d definitely been present for much worse, especially when the war first began in the north. Emoyan was no exception to that. While losing an eye was nothing to scoff at, R’wign would live, which was really all that was important. “If you want a full list of the injured parties from the attack, I can get you one. Savitri probably has them somewhere in our weyr - I’ll just raid her belongings until I find it, or until I can get with her to find out where she placed it. I’m positive she’d make a copy of something like that. She’s a bit obsessive about healer duties.”

Not that Ka’rys could blame her, mind. He didn’t say that, nor did he know how to reply to Emoyan’s observation about the Weyr being jumpy. People were, but -- well, he found it unlikely most candidates would mistake Ciceroth for an attacking dragon or foreign at all. Anyone who saw him was unlikely to forget the bronze. His hide looked like a sunset, painted over flawless luster, and though Ka’rys was biased, he’d never heard anyone refer to Ciceroth as anything short of remarkable. He was observant enough to know his dragon was one of the more unique bronzes in terms of his color. The only thing keeping him from being mistaken for a gold was the red sheen that caught his skin when he was presented to light, and then he was all bronze.

“Ciceroth respects you. That’s more of a compliment from him than being liked.” That much was true -- the bronze did not respect very many people or dragons alike. “I’m glad he didn’t spook you though. He’s very affectionate, particularly with his favorites. Always touching me.” Shrugging one shoulder, Ka’rys moved to continue upward and rubbed his nose lightly. “While you’re right that people will be jumpy, I’m pretty sure that he’s not liable to be mistaken for any other dragon on Pern. I’ve never seen another bronze that looks anything remotely like him…”