Miscommunication. {tags; Savitri}

[glamourie]

If he could have seen his weyr, Ka'rys would probably have had a heart attack on the spot. Scattered across the floor were various hides, all more than a turn old although well-preserved. They'd clearly fallen from the pile of furs at one corner of the weyr - the pile which Ka'rys claimed was a bed but was, in fact, anything but; it was literally a good sized pile of furs all laid together, upon which he slept, usually curled underneath a gray-dyed set that was the most comfortable and warm thing he owned; far warmer than was necessary for the south. Several of the hides still lingered on his furs, mostly trapped underneath one of Ka'rys's arms as the bronzerider slept, sprawled out on top of the furs, laying on his side. That one arm was his right, and secured what was (on close examination) an internal diagram of Benden Weyr most effectively. The other arm was underneath his pillow, stuffed with feathers, and his fingers were curled around the hilt of his favorite dagger. Even when he fell asleep by accident, Ka'rys kept a certain level of paranoia, and the dark rings around his eyes would explain how he fell asleep so suddenly with ease. The state of his weyr left little doubt to whether or not he'd intended to end up that way. Hides everywhere, his gear strung across the floor, and a spilled mug of klah were all evidence that Ka'rys, after several days of sleeping only one or two hours at a time, had finally passed out. The hides themselves were the most embarrassing as the information they contained was more than a little suspicious; it was concerning enough that Ciceroth had moved to guarantee none of them could slip out and off the weyrledge, into inappropriate hands. Asleep or not, Ka'rys's paranoia was pronounced enough to effect his dragon's behavior.

It was the middle of the afternoon, and Ka'rys had fallen asleep sometime mid-morning; the spilled klah was doubtlessly cold. He'd been pouring over the records he had (some of which had come not from Selenitas, but Fort; most of them contained information that ... could get him into serious trouble if they were found) in relation to Benden Weyr (what he knew of Fort was branded so effectively into his memory that no records were needed) when he'd lost consciousness. He'd gone down for breakfast, spied Shmee, and fled back to his weyr with a bowl of fruit that sat on the floor near his furs, largely untouched. The bread that he'd brought with it had a few pieces torn off; he had eaten some.

The bronzerider was, for the most part, sleeping quite serenely, if the curled up posture was any indication. He was not wound up in his furs for once and that alone was strange. Ka'rys usually slept wound up as if he was half-frozen, regardless of the weather - but no, he'd kicked his main blanket away for once. He was wearing a pair of black leggings that fell loose around his legs and far enough to cover his feet (which, given that he was always bare foot, actually had a couple blisters on the heels) and an ugly white-gray shirt that fell to his knees when he stood and probably should have been burned at least five turns previous, when he'd first started wearing it. All in all he looked very peaceful, and in his sleep he was nuzzling his pillow lightly and mumbling, incoherently, to himself; none of the words were clear enough to be understood, as most trailed off after the first syllable.

The previous night had been a busy one. Between reorganizing the layout of his weyr (so that someone could not as easily sneak up on him) and disposing of Ophelie's eggs (he still had two left, but one had been slipped in Savitri's bag as a playful joke since her pet had been following him for so long, and one was stuffed into Ch'ero's bags; he didn't have any pets and could probably use a companion), he'd been running around the weyr frantically. He'd also had drills and practice. The blisters on his feet had come from running around the dense vegetation of the jungles in an erratic exercise routine that doubtlessly would convince people who saw him that Ka'rys was insane. Consistent, but insane. Was it any wonder he was out cold?

[kysseh]

Savitri was not feeling particularly merciful that day, largely in part due to the overwhelming pile of everything that had been dumped on her at once. Sure, she was not a fully-fledged rider or anywhere near to it, but she still had enough on her plate that she was being kept far busier than even she was used to dealing with. Hepaticath was growing at an alarming rate, which required more food, more baths, more oiling, and just generally more fussing. Of course, Savitri could complain about the gold's appetite, but her protests were few and far between and largely silent. She adored her dragon, for all the trouble that Cath caused her, and if spending an extra candlemark a day on making sure enough met was cut for her was the price to pay for that love and devotion and affection, then Savitri considered it time very well spent.

Had Hepaticath's needs been the sum total of her work, life would not have been quite so busy. Normally, Savitri would enjoy being productive, but between the demanding weyrling gold, chores, lessons, the occasional stint in the Infirmary, keeping up on her readings and studying in the hopes of eventually getting her journeyman knots, and keeping an eye on a lovestruck--or, luststruck, really--Virast, the young woman was stretched rather thin. The better part of the afternoon had been spent with taking care of her dragon and simultaneously lecturing Virast that it was not socially suitable or acceptable to walk up to a random woman and pet her... chest. It was very rude and crass and inappropriate, but Virast... only seemed to understand that it would probably result in him getting slapped unendingly. It was not the best of deterrents, but it would work, and Savitri had let the boy go about his daily routine without further lectures. Hopefully, the boy would not feel inclined to pursue anyone at the moment... male or female. She didn't want to have to give him the obligatory lecture about the... mechanics... of sex. No, she would rather wait on that awkward topic, thank you.

But, Savitri could have dealt with the whole mess admirably were it not for one tiny, less-than-palm-sized detail that had her wanting to tear her hair out by the roots. With Cath asleep with a full belly and spotlessly clean and oiled hide, Savitri had retreated to her cot to go through her healer's bag and make sure it was fully restocked. Unfortunately, rummaging yielded a rather unwelcome addition to her supplies, and she had stared in shock and mild horror at the realization that a firelizard egg had been snuck into her bag. She scowled heavily and had carefully juggled the egg from hand to hand, to avoid the hot roughness of it. Eventually, she'd settled it near her pillow in a nest of blankets, content with the thought that it would not hatch at that moment in time. Then she had gotten to thinking who would inflict a pet on her, and the list of suspects narrowed as she thought of who could have had the opportunity to slip an egg into her bag.

Shard him....

Thus, Ka'rys should not have been surprised when Savitri found her way up to his weyr with the intent of lecturing him about giving her another unnecessary pet. She edged politely around Ciceroth with a smile of acknowledgment and was promptly greeted by a state of utter chaos. The first thing that caught her notice were the hides scattered around the room, and she carefully set down her bag just inside the door and scuttled quickly and quietly around in an attempt to retrieve all the errant bits. A few floated, and she had to jump to reach them, wishing she had worn her boots and not sandals. She had been intending to spend the afternoon at the river, so she had worn lighter slacks and one of her sleeveless, similarly lightweight shirts. Of course, it was cut a little lower than she would have liked, particularly now that she had trimmed off a few pounds so that it could hang lower, but she did not intend to bend over in front of anyone. Or... she had not intended. Now, however, she was jumping all over the weyrleader's weyr in an attempt to round up his errant... studies?

She glanced over the hides as she searched around for somewhere to put them, only belatedly spying the man asleep on the mountain of furs. He was still asleep, she thought, so she stacked the hides into a neat pile and set them beside his bed, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the state of him and his weyr. The obligatory lecture for the egg would have to wait. He looked like death, and his weyr was an absolute mess. Even with the hides picked up and stacked, there was still gear strewn everywhere.... in addition to that spilled cup of klah that she had very carefully avoided. He was deeply asleep, and that and the dark circles beneath his eyes spoke volumes about his current state of health. His outfit-

That was to be discussed later. For now, she knelt beside the bed, looking very peeved, and bent over to shake him very lightly with one hand on his shoulder. That shirt was going to have to go. It looked disgusting and made him seem like a crochety old man. Well... cranky and grumpy were accurate, but 'old' was pushing it. After all, 30 was not so old, was it? Still, it was old enough for health issues to be materializing, and she shook him a bit harder, bending in close to examine the dark circles he was sporting. "Ka'rys? Ka'rys?" she said quietly, evenly. She would wait until he was awake to fuss at him. It would be pointless to fuss at a sleeping man.

[glamourie]

Normally, Ka'rys came awake very quickly. The smallest noise or movement near him was likely to rouse him and have him slinging knives. The fact that Savitri was able to run around his weyr without him so much as stirring was clear indication of how tired he was - perhaps the clearest sign that he was outright exhausted. Or, perhaps, it was his dream that kept him so enraptured as to not notice that his weyr had been invaded by a foreign individual. Irregardless, the bronzerider did not move at the sounds of sandals hitting the hard stone floor of his weyr, and did not stop with his incoherent mumbling, though he did roll over slightly, his arm slipping out from under his pillow - away from the knife. Both of his arms curled up over his chest, draped lazily. He snuggled back comfortably, nestling in the furs as if they were the most comfortable thing on the face of Pern. The 'bed' may not have looked comfortable, lumpy as it was, but Ka'rys wouldn't have traded it for all of Pern. It had all the right indentations for him. He'd managed to arrange the furs enough that he was perfectly at ease in them.

Why was he so peaceful? Answer: he was dreaming. He was having very... interesting dreams, too; dreams of the fairer sex, casual touches, the smell of rain and skin, and warm flesh brushing his own. As far as most people went, Ka'rys was unusual; he didn't often have visitors in his weyr and he didn't allow most people even casual physical contact, let alone more. That his subconscious was lingering on such subjects should not have surprised anyone. He was not inhuman, no matter what he may have liked to pretend. He did better at suppressing such... feelings... when Ciceroth didn't Chase very often - but it hadn't even been a Turn since the bronze decided it was a good idea to Chase Aslath, and Ka'rys, no matter how much he may have liked to pretend, was affected.. by.. going without. It showed most often in the periodic dreams and inappropriate thoughts that he promptly distracted himself from, often with violent impulses. Dreams he couldn't get away from, though.

One unusual element, though, was the sound of Savitri's voice. The gold weyrlingrider was not a frequent visitor to Ka'rys's dreams. While yes, he did find her attractive, he had most effectively convinced himself she was not the remotest option -- and hearing her say his name struck him as distinctly odd. His eyes fluttered open, slowly at first, and his mind dawned with the realization he was in his weyr and... Savitri was looking down at him. Savitri and her chest, which was most effectively in his face. Considering how she was dressed (translation: casually and in lighter looking clothing as opposed to conservative as she usually seemed to be), he concluded that for some reason beyond his comprehension, Savitri had replaced his dream woman. Which was awkward in itself, and he really didn't want to think about what that could have meant -- not that he objected to the view at all. Strange that she was clothed though - usually in his dreams there was absolutely no hint of subtlety. Ka'rys was fairly sure that was because his subconscious mind liked to get straight to business. With Savitri looking down at him like that, so did he.

If he'd realized he was awake, he would have reacted very, very differently. For starters he would not have let his eyes roam so freely, but more importantly, he wouldn't have acted on impulse. As it was, he was still convinced he was in a dream (why else would Savitri be staring down at him?) and he snaked his arms around her waist and the back of her neck before pulling her down into what was anything but an innocent kiss. It lasted only a half a minute before it dawned on Ka'rys that Savitri was entirely too tense, he felt too exhausted, and there was the strangest sense of confusion in the back of his mind. None of that was consistent with his dreams and he released her, then jumped back as if burned, a surprised and embarrassed look coming over his face as the realization hit him that he was not asleep at all. But just for confirmation, he tilted his head to the side and asked, quietly, "Uh... I'm awake, aren't I...?"

[kysseh]

Remembering the way he had reacted to Mutasim's presence, Savitri was understandably surprised when Ka'rys did not react to her presence by awakening immediately. He was seemingly dead to the world, and once she got close enough, she realized he was mumbling. With his arms tucked into his chest like that, he looked much like a child... albeit a poorly-dressed and rather silly one. Most children did not enjoy sleeping on such an awful-looking bed, and Savitri added that to her list of complaints. His back and neck would likely protest this sort of sleeping arrangement, and she hazarded a guess that they already were. Sure, the bed might be comfortable--she scoffed at that thought--for the moment, but... well, his spine would not like it in the long run. She would point that out too... once he actually came to consciousness.

Oh, there he was!

She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, smiling wryly. Opening her mouth to respond, the young healer was promptly distracted by the fact that his gaze promptly began to wander in ways that she did not think his mind would dare allow. Both of her eyebrows raised to follow his perusal, and she glanced down at herself to realize that her shirt was.... well, it was dipping a bit. Granted, all he could probably see was a peek at cleavage and quite a bit of fresh scarring, but she still... adjusted it so that he was not allowed even that. She was vaguely discomfited by the idea of a 'safe' bronzerider offering up staring, and even though the sensible side of her knew that it was only the result of... well... the way men usually awoke.... it still made her a bit nervous the way he was eyeing her. It made her think th-

She inhaled sharply in shock as arms went around her waist and the back of her neck, and she was pulled toward him suddenly enough that she overbalanced and clumsily fell atop him and his... odd sort of bed. Unfortunately, she was too preoccupied with the fact that her mouth had suddenly been claimed to notice the position of the rest of her body, and she instinctively tensed beneath the unexpected contact, sure that she was flushed from head to toe in embarrassment and... well... excited interest. He was not unattractive, and the skill--even when asleep or half-asleep--that he demonstrated made a considerable difference between the last and only other time that she'd been kissed. That had been an awkward adolescent kiss, but this was not, and she was both afraid and curious as to what was going on in his head to... incite him to such behavior.

About the time she finished that thought process, she realized that it was getting difficult to breathe, but before she could squirm to try to get away for some air, he abruptly released her and then put a large margin of space between them. She flailed her limbs for a brief half-second, breathing a bit heavily as she got safe purchase on the furs and clung there, a bit awkwardly sprawled. Her face was flushed, and her mind was racing in about a thousand different directions. His question, however, brought all her initial panicking to a screeching halt, and she turned a mildly annoyed gaze toward him. That little...

"You-" She stopped abruptly, abhorring the breathy nature of her voice. What was she?! One of those idiot little barely-teen girls?! She tried again and failed miserably, and her irritation with herself showed. Then she swallowed--it took a moment for her to figure out how her throat muscles worked--and sat up, perched on the edge of his... well, what passed for his bed. "You're awake... or, I think you are," she confirmed, idly straightening out the clothes he had rumpled in his... enthusiasm. Her face was fairly burning, but she ignored it. She was just grateful that Hepaticath had not been awake and witness to... that. And as much as she hated to admit it, it had no been quite as bad as-

No, not thinking that. "What was that for?" the young woman inquired further, lifting her chin a bit to watch him. It was then she noticed the hide lying on the bed between them, and she snatched it up before he could protest. "And what are you doing sleeping with all of these-... wait, what is this for?" Her frown was obvious, but at least her voice had lost that needy, breathless quality enough for her to focus on the... issues at mou- HAND!

[glamourie]

Oh great. She looked annoyed and Ka'rys flushed slightly, contemplating the virtues of hiding under his furs until Savitri finally lost her patience and left. The embarrassment he felt was on so many levels that he didn't dare meet Savitri's eyes. Not only had he thought he just kissed someone - randomly - she was a weyrlingrider and he was frantically worried. There were reasons for the rules that weyrlings only hold hands with one another - nothing more. It could be potentially devastating to a hatchling to be bombarded with such strange emotions. He expected to be slapped - or worse - and braced himself physically for the inevitable. The fact that said weyrlingrider happened to be Savitri just made his conscience even worse and thousands of questions milled through his mind, to be silenced by one over all one that he did not particularly like: what did it mean, that he was so quick to act on impulse with her, even if he had thought it was a dream? Would he have reacted so quickly if it was anyone else he actually knew? (The figures that appeared in his dreams were rarely actual people, after all, and the few times they had been were... highly embarrassing anyway.)

"I'm sorry," he blurted out immediately, interrupting her as soon as she began to speak; he couldn't help it, he hadn't meant to - "I didn't - Hepaticath, she's not upset is she?" He'd never really understood what bothered or confused the dragons about such behavior, mainly because when Ciceroth was a weyrling he'd been too distracted pampering the bronze to really risk any confusion. (Not to mention he'd pushed Ciss away so badly that anything else would probably have been a welcome change to the attempts at hiding his feelings - it was truly a wonder the pair of them managed to get along at all.) "I didn't mean to - I mean -" His eyes followed her fixing her clothing and he bowed his head, one hand coming up to cover his face in a moment of undeniable humiliation. The movement brought sight of the hides lying on his furs into his view and his eyes widened to roughly the size of a small saucer. Bad. Baaad. Had Savitri seen --?

Ka'rys looked up in alarm and then immediately started grabbing the hides as fast as he could, frantically piling them all facing downward so the contents couldn't be seen. Yes, it was suspicious behavior, yes, he knew that, but shard it, he did not want to explain---

-- and she asked. Shard it, shard it, shard it! He resisted the urge to swear colorfully as he continued gathering up the hides, speaking without looking at her, "They're records." It wasn't a lie but he didn't embelish or emphasize. "Can you please hand me the rest so I can put them away?" How had he fallen asleep with them out? How could he be so reckless? His gaze fell on the one that Savitri indicated and, fortunately he was still blushing, because he otherwise would have paled. The contents on it were records that any dragonrider would be able to recognize-- they were copies of deformed dragons hatched at Benden, only to be killed. But the copies were old enough that they were by no means from Selenitas. He'd gotten copies of them from Fort's spies at Benden, when he first transferred to Selenitas; mainly after inquiring about the mutated hatchlings from Fath's clutches. One of many things he'd never turned over. Selenitas figured things in relation to that out on their own anyway, but he doubted most of the riders there would thank him for not sharing all the information he had... and he had quite a bit he didn't share.

Hepaticath sleeps, Ciceroth offered by way of explanation, partially to soothe his half-panicked rider. You would do well to keep your mouth to yourself in the future, though. I expect you deserve a - what do your lot call it? Slap?

I didn't ask you, Ka'rys replied, shooting an accusing look over toward Ciceroth's side of the weyr. The last thing he wanted was a slap, even if he did (begrudgingly) believe he deserved one. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Why are you in my weyr, anyway?" There! Turn it around on her, like it was her fault. Not that he actually believed that but the last thing Ka'rys wanted was for Savitri to realize how embarrassed he truly felt at the situation. Though, his pale skin hid a blush about as well as a queen near flight hid out in the open. No - no - thinking about queens flying as not good with a goldrider near him. He banished that thought from his mind and glared, again, as Ciceroth rumbled from his side of the weyr. Apparently his embarrassment was highly entertaining to the bronze. Good to know someone found it funny; Ka'rys sure didn't.

[kysseh]

Was he blushing? Savitri was sure she was, but the fact that Ka'rys was reddening had her feeling a bit better about the whole situation. Of the two, she was the fully awake and obviously more sensibly coherent one at the moment, and that gave her the upper hand... which, essentially, meant she did not have to play on the defensive. The flush actually added some healthy color to his face, and she wanted to tell him that. Unfortunately, she was not sure how stable her voice still was, so she kept her mouth shut while he babbled some sort of apology. Hepaticath was fine in that she had not budged from her sound sleep, but Savitri was sharding grateful for that little miracle. Had Hepaticath been awake and very distressed, Ka'rys would have found himself in the unenviable position of having a knowledgeable and furious female healer very angry with him.

He may not have survived that situation with all of his maleness intact.

She saw him cover his face as she straightened her rumpled clothing, and she had a fairly good idea of why. He was probably wholly embarrassed, and he should have been! He had just grabbed and kissed a woman without any invitation, and it was blatantly obvious from the state and shape of his body that he had... thoroughly enjoyed it. She swept her eyes up and down his form, clearing her throat at the sight of just how obvious his feelings were. "You must have had a very good dream," she said rather mildly, inclining her head pointedly toward the area of interest. Of course, the shirt obscured her view a bit, but... well, if this was him at very excited, it was decidedly unin-

Nonono... not going down that road! "Hepaticath is asleep, thankfully, or you wouldn't be in one piece," she said in simple reply, briskly pulling the one bit of hide in her possession out of his reach. He was obviously desperate to cover up whatever was on these hides--she had not taken a very good look before now--and that made her all the more inclined to want to know. If it was important enough for him to cover up, it was worth knowing. Ka'rys would not waste the energy on something trivial, and she frowned slightly as she perused the bit of hide in her hand. "Just a minute! I'm reading. The rest are there," she said with a vague wave of her hand toward the pile stacked beside his bed. She had set them down prior to trying to wake him.

Ah, she knew what this was! But her frown deepened as she flitted through the list of dragon names, and not a single one rang bells in her head. She had been copying list upon list of clutch records from the archives for her chore rotation, and these were none that she knew of... and none that had Hatched in the past several Turns, if they were from Selenitas. She had done enough copies of those clutch lists to have at least some of the names memorizes, and none of these were on that list. She had a fleeting memory of the fact that Ka'rys was not Selenitas-born, and the healer froze at the realization that these were probably not... items from the archives here. She turned suspiciously-narrowed green eyes up toward the bronzerider. Oh, he had some explaining to do.

Ciceroth's rumble distracted her for a brief second, and she glanced toward the dragon's part of the weyr, still looking that way as she began to speak, record held in one hand. "These aren't Selenitas dragons, and I'm fairly sure I haven't come across these records in the archives here. What're they for, and how'd you get them?" she inquired, turning her gaze back to Ka'rys. She fidgeted a little to adjust her perch on the edge of his uncomfortable bed, thoughts of the mouth-rape receding in favor of this new tidbit of... strange information to cling to.

[glamourie]

Her look did not sit well with him; in fact, immediate disapproval rang through the back of his mind. Most men wouldn't mind being looked over, but - he did. He most certainly did and her comment made his face turn a darker shade of red before he sniffed and quite pointedly refused to respond. It wasn't as though he could argue with her. The worst he could do was go into ... explicit detail of exactly what his dream had detailed, and while that would probably embarrass her fleetingly, it wouldn't be worth the embarrassment trying to be suggestive would cost him. No, silence was far more effective, despite the fact that he was sure she'd accuse him of sulking. He was not sulking. He just didn't think there was any way of salvaging the situation without destroying what was left of his ego, and he had grace to back out when he was very clearly out of his league. Besides, he was still half-asleep, and she had moved right on to threatening him. He was tempted to snipe back something, but settled for ignoring the comments with little more than the initial sniff. If he ignored her maybe she'd stop picking on him.

Savitri's reluctance to hand over the hides made him twitch and he grabbed the remaining ones, climbing out of his furs as best he could. Over to the center of his weyr he moved (neatly avoiding the spilled klah; by Faranth what a mess he'd made) and he sought out a heavy metal box with a lock on it. The hides were placed neatly into the box, and then he slinked back over to Savitri with fluid, almost predatory grace. Then he snatched the hide from her hand and wandered back to the pile of boxes on the large carpet - the only nice thing he owned. Kneeling, he put it back into its proper container, then closed and locked it again; it only needed the key to unlock, not to lock. Handy, that, since the key was somewhere in his furs, and the last thing he wanted was to have to dislodge the healer.

"I don't recall you answering my question. You were much more interested in looking me over," he retaliated, but there was a hint of venom in his voice that implied the topic was not a good one. "Why should I answer yours?"

Without waiting for a response, Ka'rys moved to kick all of his dirty clothing into a semi-organized pile, then retrieved one of the discarded shirts. Back over to the pile of spilled klah he moved, mopping it up with his right hand (more so that she didn't fuss at him over using his left than anything else) and the shirt itself; never mind that the klah would doubtlessly stain the fabric, Ka'rys was completely not above wearing clothing with suspicious stains if it got him out of having to buy more. (He never bought new clothing if he could help it and he only owned five outfits; four normal wear and one that was gather finery -- it was a wonder that he hadn't worn everything down to the threads.) Besides, he didn't want to wander over to the bathing pools to get a towel which he'd then have to have washed anyway. Less work all around for everyone, and Ka'rys wasn't particularly finicky about his appearance.

"Why," he began as he threw the sopping shirt onto the pile, then wandered over to the bowel of fruit and thoroughly hard bread. Gone bad. Wonderful. He scowled at the bowl accusingly, but continued to speak to Savitri, "are you in my weyr? I need to get a lock - why do people keep coming in here? Four turns I go without a single visitor aside from the wherryheaded healer-child, and then I get several all within a matter of a few sevendays. And my bread's gone stale." He grabbed the bread, then turned and wailed it straight across the weyr, throwing it with surprising accuracy... and also with his bad arm... right into Ciceroth's section, effectively beaning the bronze in the process. Disgruntled, Ciceroth turned and knocked the bread out of the weyr with his tail before snorting quite audibly and privately protesting; Ka'rys ignored him as though he did not hear or notice the agitation the bronze felt. Nothing unusual about that. "Last time you had the excuse of my arm - but ah, stitches are out now, see?"

Considering you're still using it, I wouldn't be surprised if you require more. Voice of reason though he was, the comment earned Ciceroth a look before Ka'rys stalked across the weyr, moving his gear back to the shelves where it belonged. The bronze did not appear to notice, continuing on amiably, I don't think you have to worry about her sneaking in again, she did not seem remotely impressed by your attempts to eat her. Another glare. Ciceroth rumbled in amusement once more - evidently Ka'rys's annoyance was a matter of great entertainment to the dragon. Humans and your strange mating rituals. She obviously isn't close to Flight. Try again later.

[kysseh]

The arrogance in his stance immediately had her disdainful. She thought it was only fair that she get to look him over... especially when he had been doing that and more to her just moments before. Besides, she had a lot more skin showing than he did. That... ugly, pathetic excuse for clothing--it looked like an overworn shirt that had once been white and turned to... moldy gray--was covering so much of him, and the leggings beneath it covered the rest. Honestly, he had gotten far more of an eyeful than she had, so what was he so fussy about?! She wasn't invading his personal space either, so she thought he had little room to take the moral high road in this case. The darkening of his blush made her snort softly. Was he that embarrassed by her perusal? He had better hope that he never was injured, or the clothing would not be obstructing her curious view. She wasn't being crude, just curious... right?

She was highly affronted when he forcefully removed the hide from her hand, but as soon as she saw where he was stacking the papers, she fell into momentary, sullen silence. Protesting would get her nowhere, but waiting resulted in him at least continuing to speak. Granted, he was being a complete jerk about things, but Savitri was used to his oddness enough that she tried to not let it bother her. "Possibly because you just mouth-raped me, which I find rather rude, and then shoved me away like I had some sort of disease. Most people would consider that... highly impolite and uncalled-for. I wouldn't mind being kissed, but it'd be nice if you asked or didn't just throw me aside like that. I was coming here to give you an earful for leaving a firelizard egg in my bag. The last thing I need is another headache, and that'll only add to things," she said with a grimace as she got to her feet and moved to the door to retrieve her bag. A headache was forming, indeed, and she was getting that unpleasant throbbing sensation in her right temple that heralded a bad one in the making. Lovely.

She neglected to comment about looking him over, since she had no intentions of worsening her headache. Rummaging through her bag yielded the little container she sought, and she gratefully popped a few of the fresh leaves into her mouth, her expression contorted at the bitter taste. She prayed it would help, mostly because she'd otherwise have to find her way back to the barracks with little sparklies dancing in front of her eyes. The young woman did not get migraines as often as many did, but she had not had one in... a few months. Her unusual waspishness and thirst the last day or so should have alerted her that the stress was making one build. Shardit.

Something was flying in her direction, and she gave a surprised exclamation and ducked, glaring in Ka'rys' direction as she heard Ciceroth's snort of protest when he was hit. She wanted to apologize to the bronze, but Ka'rys was being... well, he was glaring. And sulking, it looked like. Her fingers massaged at her temple a bit, her face a study in pained annoyance. "I told you. The egg," was all she said, though Ciceroth's rumble of obvious amusement echoed in her ears. She wondered and glanced toward in the bronze's direction. "I'm not sure what's so funny, Ciceroth, but thank you... even if you're laughing at me. It's nice to see someone getting entertained by this mess," she muttered at the bronze.

The migraine was not receding but not worsening either, so she pulled her hand from her head and watched Ka'rys attempt to put his weyr in order, sighing softly and leaning back against the wall by the doorway. Didn't he owe her an answer too? She'd offered up the response he had sought. "What were those records from? I know they're not from here, and I know they aren't about this weyr either. I've been in the archives on chore rotation for... several sevendays, and I've copied all the clutchlists, and none of those names were there. Where are those lists from? Fort?" She knew he came from there. Perhaps he had brought them from home, though those were... odd sorts of tidbits to keep. Plus, why would he lock them up like that? It seemed highly suspicious to her.

[glamourie]

Mouth - rape - Ka'rys's eyes narrowed and he spun to face Savitri with what was possibly the worst look he owned. "At some places, a woman sneaking into a man's weyr when he's trying to sleep would merit the comment that she was asking for it," he sneered, then shook his head. The look faded slightly, but there was still obvious annoyance in his posture. "That was uncalled for - true, but uncalled for; if you want to throw such a big word around, you go right ahead. You and Shmee can bond over that." Yes, he meant it as an insult. Shmee had made such a fuss and -- yes, his ego was bruised, yes, he was offended, and yes, she had touched a nerve. "For the record, it was an accident, I've apologized to you, and I did not throw you away like you have a disease. How quickly you forget you're a Weyrlingrider when it's convenient to you! Weren't you just threatening me a moment ago? My, you are an arrogant piece of work. I was concerned for Hepaticath and I did not want to make things worse by hanging onto you and resulting in an awkward, uncomfortable conversation."

She was sneaking about in his weyr because of a bleeding egg? Oooh, he wanted to throw his pillows at her in his temper. Comically enough, he had no real desire to hurt her, just to knock sense into her. Most people he would have wanted to throttle. That thought annoyed him, but he allowed himself a smug sense of accomplishment when he very nearly clocked her in the head with the bread. He'd been aiming for Ciceroth but he couldn't say as he would have objected to hitting her with stale bread. It wasn't effective enough to hurt her, after all, but it would show his annoyance. He had managed to hit Ciss, that had to count for something, not that the bronze was exactly a difficult target. Why was she speaking to the bronze, anyway?

"He was mocking us both," he grumbled, temper fizzling just slightly; the topic of Ciceroth had that effect on him most of the time. "I believe he accused me of trying to eat you and told me to try again when you were closer to Flying. He finds us very amusing, like his own private harpers to entertain." Another glare was shot toward the bronze, who turned around and nudged Savitri with the end of his tail, undeniably affection. Ka'rys visibly rolled his eyes. "He says hello, and that he's sorry that you caught us at a bad time, he adds thank you for picking up the hides because, according to him, I'm too impolite to say it, and that he's sorry -- NO, I AM NOT REPEATING THAT!" The last outburst was offered to Ciceroth who rumbled hysterically before slinking to the far corner of his sunning ledge, doubtlessly pleased with himself for making Ka'rys yell ... again. "Sharding bronze, stop trying to embarrass me, or I will start telling people humiliating stories about how you couldn't walk properly because your tail kept getting in the way and how you fell on your face - you may not remember but I do!"

Ka'rys continued to glower in Ciceroth's direction before Savitri's words drew his attention and a feeling similar to being trapped rushed through him. That was not a topic he wanted to pursue at all, and he was tempted to continue being insulting if only because he was sure Savitri would leave in exasperation. He was gifted for being obnoxious, after all, and she seemed to take it very personally when he was particularly nasty. He didn't want her in his weyr - picking up those things. And her question made him shake his head emphatically before he moved to sit on the piles of boxes, most effectively putting his body between them and Savitri should she decide to try to open them. There was nothing in there for healer's eyes.

How to answer, how to answer? She thought they were from Fort - he supposed he could lie, though he didn't particularly want to. He settled for an avoidance answer and replied simply with, "In a manner of speaking, yes." They weren't clutch records from Fort, but he had gotten them from Fort. Good enough to him. "You do realize it's a green egg and very unlikely to hatch? Blame Ophelie. She decided to lay a clutch between my ankles. I didn't even know green firelizards did that." He scowled again, crossing his feet at the ankles. "To be fair, I still have two of the eggs, and it is unlikely any of them will hatch. If greens could clutch regularly we'd be over-run with firelizards, so don't take it so personally. The color reminded me of you. Stop acting like I was trying to deliberately insult you; I was not. Who else would I trust with my pet's eggs, hmm?"

[kysseh]

Had Savitri not been suffering from a migraine, the look she sent Ka'rys would have had the full force of an enraged woman. She did not casually throw the word 'rape' around, but that had been the most appropriate word to use for the way he had plundered her mouth just a few moments ago. She had not invited or wanted it, and he had just shoved his tongue into her mouth and practically down her throat with enough enthusiasm that she had felt suffocated, and it angered her beyond all measure that he could be so self-righteous about it. She stayed silent, though, until his tirade was over. He was right on some counts, and she felt guilty for the fact that he had been concerned about Cath when she had assumed... worse of him. Again. She had a habit of doing that.

"Are you finished?" she asked, her expression softening enough to just be annoyed as opposed to truly angry. She did not wait for him to answer, however, and just pressed on. "I'm sorry for assuming the worst of you... again. I'm working on it, but it's hard when you persist in shoving me aside or evading me on things. And I'm no stranger to the concept of rape, Ka'rys. I've seen what it does, and I wouldn't use the word unless I felt it was the only one to be used to describe the situation. You startled me and frightened me a bit, and I felt like I was suffocating. Next time, warning would be nice." Next time? Why next time?! Would there be a next time?! "And I appreciate your concern for Cath." Her tone was far softer now, more genuine. Some men were not so considerate, and she would have had to employ force in those instances. Ahh, but she loved having blades now, even if her skills with them still needed an incredible amount of work. Her movements with them were more... surgical than offensive or defensive.

His description of Ciceroth's statements had her tilting her head to one side, a slow smile spreading at his relay. "At least one of you has brains and a sense of humor," she pointed out, pleasantly surprised when she was nudged by a tailtip. She patted it and then blanched a bit at Ka'rys' sudden outburst. Her body tensed, ready to flee, but his anger faded as Ciceroth slunk away to the other end of the weyrledge. Shame. The bronze was far better company than his rider at the moment. His idle threat at the bronze made her chuckle a bit weakly. "He was a weyrling. Of course he's supposed to be clumsy and ungainly. That can hardly be humiliating." At least, not in her mind. Cath was that way, but she had never thought to tease the gold about it. It would not have irked the little queen anyway, so why bother?

He sat on the boxes, and Savitri snorted softly at the thought that he actually might be trying to prevent her from gaining access. She folded her legs and slid down the wall to plop onto the floor. It felt better down here. Her head throbbed a little less with her resting a bit. He was avoiding her again, but she stubbornly refused to give up. She had persistence on her side, and she would wear him down if she had to. "That's not helpful. What're they for, and why do you have them?" she asked again, narrowing her eyes a bit--oh, shards, her head was aching--more at him. He was hiding something... fairly significant. What it was, she was unsure, but she doubted she would like it. Unfortunately, that made it all the more necessary for her to find out.

"Insulting or not, a firelizard or the possibility of one is not the sort of trial I need. Though... why red reminds you of me is beyond my comprehension," she said a bit tiredly, shaking her head. She was privately very glad that Ophelie had decided to inconvenience him that way, if only because she saw it as an odd sort of revenge for giving her such a throbbing headache. Actually, that headache was not his fault. Being stressed about this mess had just been the trigger for it. She was well-accustomed to these sorts of incidents. "Oh, and if you're that desperate to be heard, Ciceroth, you're welcome to talk to Cath when she wakes up. And if he makes my headache worse by stubbornly refusing to answer why he has clutchlists and... other things... those aren't from Selenitas at all, are they? Any of them?" she asked as her thoughts took a sudden turn toward that, her friendly statements toward the dragon veering into a question for the bronzerider as several pieces clicked into place. "Or if they are... what're you planning?" Her frown deepened, and she braced her hands on the floor, ready to get up in an instant if she felt threatened. She did not trust him... not after that outburst.

[glamourie]

Yes, Savitri and Shmee could start a club, Ka'rys thought, with no small amount of vehemence in his mind. What was it with goldriders and being melodramatic? No, she hadn't exactly said she wanted him to kiss her, but he did apologize and he wasn't trying again, did that not count for anything? And people wondered why he didn't even bother trying to form relationships. Melodrama. One mistake and the word 'rape' got slung around. Did she not realize what an insult it was? Or the fact that it clearly bothered him on a personal level? Apparently not. He did not elaborate on what he meant. Shmee had, to his knowledge, been quite vocal about her... opinion of him, and all he felt was that Savitri was adding insult to injury. No point arguing when he didn't know enough to say better. "There won't be a next time, so there will be no warning necessary." As far as he was concerned, there shouldn't have been a "this time" -- and once he got a lock on his weyr door, he fully intended to gut anyone who happened to come in. No worries of a next time whatsoever. He'd apologized, what more did she want? Well, regardless, he couldn't do any more, other than shoot her a dirty look; he didn't comment about her dragon, or indeed much else on that particular topic. He was gradually getting upset on a personal level. It was one thing to have someone he hated proclaiming... things and quite another to have someone he did like rubbing salt into that open wound. Savitri could not have been dense enough to miss that. If she was, well, she deserved his scorn - but he honestly believed that she knew and didn't care that she was quite effectively digging into a spot that stung. Typical goldrider, didn't care about anyone's feelings but her own.

He was tempted to point out that Ciceroth did not appreciate her usage of that term any more than he did. While Ciceroth did not understand it, the mental relation to Shmee was enough that the bronze was displeased; he was far enough away that it was impossible to see the slight disapproval whirling in his eyes, but Ka'rys could feel it and it was mildly reassuring. Yes, he was sure he was taking her comment too personally, but she didn't realize how insulting it was; or if she did, she simply failed to care. Either one was unacceptable. He couldn't think of anything equally insulting to call her, so he settled for dropping it outwardly; it wasn't as if he'd gain anything by arguing the point. She was just ... typical. Typical female in every way, assumed everything was about her. He hadn't meant it that way at all, he hadn't realized what he was doing, and by Faranth, he'd have taken it back if he could have. As it was, he'd mentally resigned himself to refusing to touch Savitri in any way -- much the same attitude he had toward Shmee, ironically enough. Not that either goldrider was likely to notice it, given his avoidance habits.

I don't think she meant it that badly, Rysmine, Ciceroth offered, though he knew the comment was no good. Even though he liked Savitri, he also knew how much the Senior Weyrwoman had offended Ka'rys; he wasn't a naturally physical entity, and being scorned for it didn't encourage that habit changing. If anything, it made him worse, and while Ciceroth would've liked to say that he thought Ka'rys was wrong, for once he couldn't. If an accident merited the usage of words that bothered his Rys so much (he did not understand the concept of 'rape' given that when a female dragon rose, they were always caught by the best -- there was no way to be 'flown' against one's will like that), intentional would probably be worse. Do not be so angry with her, please.

I'm not angry. Not anymore.
No. Now you're hurt. I don't understand why you let words make you hurt. They are just words.

It's easy to say they're just words and pretend not to care, but it bothers me nonetheless, and I don't feel like trying to explain to her that she's insulting me monumentally on a personal level; I doubt she cares anyway, Ka'rys replied, watching Savitri as she spoke, though without argument; indeed, the anger had completely left him, though the response he offered was not much better. Cold silence hardly did well to end a fight, but he didn't intend to argue further. How long had he been silent, anyway? -- He'd only offered one response, and while he was sure that would not please Savitri, silence would probably not do him any better. The problem was, he didn't really trust himself to say anything. He was too busy being annoyed.. and, as Ciceroth had aptly put it, hurt.

Why did she keep focusing on the bleeding hides? Ka'rys fixed Savitri with a steady stare, replying only with, "I said they were from Fort in a manner of speaking. You don't need to know more than that, and what I'm planning," -- namely, nothing -- "is nothing that explicitly concerns you in any way. They are not clutches that have hatched at Selenitas, and they are for my own reference." He chose not to respond to the subject of the firelizards, and why red reminded him of her; if he was honest, he couldn't exactly say. Maybe because she was as blatant and hard to miss as a fire storm and fond of burning him? The reasoning seemed logical enough to him. He also ignored comments about Ciceroth, primarily because the bronze, too, was ignoring Savitri. He wasn't exactly offended, but Ciceroth did care about the well-being of His and fond of Savitri or not, she'd hurt him in a way Ciceroth was not okay with at all. The fact that his private attempts at comfort were rebuffed bothered Ciceroth as well, though the bronze would not admit it; Ka'rys knew, but there was no fixing it with Savitri actually there.

[kysseh]

No, there wouldn't be a next time for her entering his weyr, though Savitri wanted to point out that she would have happily left if he'd been asleep to avoid waking him. But... looking like he did and the weyr did, she had been concerned, and she was aggravated enough by this to let it show. Granted, Ka'rys could probably figure out everything going through her head, given the set of her chin and eyes. She had never been very good at closing herself off, largely because she had never practiced it. She had never needed to. Living at the weyr--and talking to Ka'rys in particular--had been a rude wake-up call as to how life outside the hold worked. She was not sure she liked it either, but like it or not, this was life now.

A next time for a kiss, however, could have been discussed for a much later date, because, frankly, that had not been as horrible as she thought. Granted, her standards for comparison were off from inexperience, and her interest could have been as much from the adrenaline from the fear... but still. It had been interest until he got belligerent and close-mouthed about her use of...

She sighed and just watched him in silence for a moment, head tilted slightly to one side as he gave her another useless and unhelpful answer. She didn't need to know? Maybe not, but she was the type that preferred to play on the safe side when it came to knowing things, which essentially meant that she obtained said knowledge in case she would ever need it. It seemed like that would not be an option with Ka'rys, though, so she just let the silence go for a few moments, let him continue to be aggravated in quiet peace. Her first instinct was to get up, take her bag, and just leave, if only because continuing to talk would probably only lead to more fighting. She was not about to grovel at his feet and apologize when it was not wholly her fault, and it wasn't, at least from her perspective.

She could not leave things so poorly, though, so some attempt at reconciliation would have to be made, which also irked her. Was she always going to have to be the one to fix things? She could apologize for her own flaws just fine, but she hated how little effort he seemed to put forth in making some sort of friendship work. Then again, she had just snapped at him out of fear, and Ka'rys did not seem to be as generous as she herself was with making allowances... usually. Fine then. She would have to do it, and she got to her feet and walked over to him, just standing in front of him. Her hand wanted to rest on his arm to get his attention and keep him there, but she did not feel like being thrown across the room.

"I'm sorry that I upset you. That wasn't why I came here." Her tone was a little more even now than it was, but it was not quite in the realm of gentle. She was still a little too nervous about being grabbed. "... I don't think 'rape' was... quite the right word for it. You startled and frightened me, grabbing me like that, and it was the only word that came to mind in place of... an explicit description of getting a tongue shoved into my mouth." That had been a new and startlingly odd experience, to say the least. People did that on a regular basis and enjoyed it?! That was obviously an acquired taste in affection, which she would be happy to put off for a bit longer in learning to like. She was still a little rattled. "I didn't mean to imply that you had been abusive. Just... a little forceful, without consent. Honestly, if your weyr hadn't looked like this and you hadn't looked slightly ill, I wouldn't have tried to wake you up. I was worried. I'd have left and yelled at you some other time."

She awkwardly brushed a stray tendril of hair from her face, wincing a bit at the throbbing in her head. Yes, she should have just left. Getting tongue-swabbed--oh, how disgusting that sounded!--and then lectured were both definite stress-inducers, and now she was paying for it. Of course, the mildly apologetic expression on her face implied that she was at least acknowledging her part in worsening it. She really hadn't meant to offend him like that. If she had been, she would have made some statements about his height or his physique, which, she noted, wasn't exactly flattered by the way he was dressing and currently sitting down.

"You're right. It probably doesn't concern me, but I would rather play it safe than sorry. I won't ask you to tell me." No, she'd just come back to investigate another time if he decided to be very snippy about it. "Though I wish you would. If it's that important for you to hide, it makes me think it's important enough for others to know." Then again, she was not a secret-keeper on most levels. She kept some important things secret, sure, but not many. This, however, was going into that very small pile. If he freaked out over her seeing these, then who knew what he would do if others saw? Though, they could've been something ridiculous, and he was just being a jerk. But... he wanted her to trust him. She was trying, really, despite how hard it was becoming. "I'll trust you." For now. Until he gave her another reason to not do so. Should she have left right then? Probably, but she couldn't quite bring herself to leave until he had had a chance to say his piece. If, that was, he decided to say anything at all.

[glamourie]

She was approaching him and Ka'rys's instinctual reaction was to step back, or lean back, or anything to get away. He didn't. He settled for holding very still, intensely rigid. The fact that he didn't cringe away should have flattered her, considering that he felt like cowering away from her; he wasn't afraid of her but Savitri had definitely hit a nerve. Definitely. Truthfully, the bronzerider just wanted to leave. Walk away... or ask her to; he didn't particularly have the energy for a fight anymore. He closed his eyes, listening, but not quite looking; despite all appearances, Ka'rys actually preferred not to deal with things upsetting him. If he was insistent on facing Savitri he'd do himself the favor of not looking at her and analyzing everything she did. If he sat and tried to understand her he would just get upset worse, and he was honestly too tired to get that upset. Any other time he would probably throw a tantrum. He didn't have the energy to get worked up.

Are you okay?

The bronze's concern was truly touching, if only because Ka'rys liked knowing he wasn't completely alone, but he did not offer an immediate response to the worried words - mainly because at that moment Savitri began to speak. Quite comically, he opened one eye to look at her, the other remaining closed. If he wasn't careful he was going to fall asleep right then and there. How awkward would that be? She'd probably be mad. At the minimum, offended. By Faranth, but her timing was truly terrible. Most of his anger, though, fizzled out and he scrunched up his nose slightly. He didn't argue, though. He was tempted to defend the state of his weyr, which was disorganized more from his lack of sleep than him being a messy individual (he was actually meticulously organized, as evidenced by his record-keeping), but figured that it would come across as petty. Besides, that involved energy he did not possess. He also was tempted to point out that if he was in such a poor state, Ciceroth would have called someone - likely Savitri herself - to come and check on him. Ka'rys hated to admit it, but the bronze was usually very good about making sure he sought help.

"I have insomnia," he said quietly, but most of the malice in his voice was gone. He was tempted to tell her that he forgave her, but did he? He was too tired to think about that, so he chose to drop the topic - for both their sakes. It wasn't worth continuing. Besides, she'd said she was worried, the least he could do was reassure her he wasn't going to drop dead on the spot. "It got worse around the time Shmee went to the Hold; I keep thinking of things I need to be doing, that I don't have the time or proper authority to do." That was actually an honest answer, though only in part -- he decided to offer the rest of it. She hadn't prompted, but it must have taken a lot out of her for her to admit that her wording was poor. (Similarly, he hadn't agreed or disagreed with her because to emphasize that it was poor would be to disqualify the effort she'd obviously put in admitting that in the first place.) "I've been having strange dreams lately, too. For the past few tendays, actually. Things long forgotten, that happened a long time ago. So, I don't sleep as much as I used to. I'm used to running on very little sleep - about a fourth of what the average person gets - but I've gotten even less than that of late. Other than that, I'm fine, though. I'm not sick."

Well, he wasn't sick in the sense of coughing, sneezing and congestion. His head did hurt though, but that was as much from lack of sleep as stress. He was fairly sure that the dreams were his major problem, along with a lingering worry -- it had been quite awhile since one of the northern Weyrs made a move and he did not trust them. He kept expecting things to get bad quickly and he wanted to be prepared. Selenitas was no where near prepared, and that bothered him on a personal level. Selenitas wasn't his home, not in his mind, but the people seemed to look to Shmee and, in part, him; that mattered. He wasn't the kind of person who threw away other people's trust without good reason, if he could help it. He hated the idea of letting people down.

Unfortunately, he was fairly sure his feelings regarding the boxes were going to let Savitri down a lot. Especially since he refused to back down and tell her what they were. "That attitude could get you hurt, you know." It wasn't a threat, and it wasn't meant as one. "Sometimes, people don't tell you things for a reason. The 'if you won't tell me I probably need to know' attitude really doesn't apply. I do keep a lot of things secret... but I've told you more than most people - and I will tell you this completely: there are some things I keep secret because you knowing them could cost you your life, or worse. My judgment on that is a lot better than yours, whether you recognize it or not, so please do try to temper your curiosity and understand that I am not keeping this from you just to be malicious." No, he was keeping it from her to save his own skin, but that was beside the point - finding out what was in those chests didn't benefit Savitri in any way. All it did was put her in danger. If she stood to gain anything from it, would he show her? Well, he'd consider it more -- but she really didn't gain anything but satisfied curiosity, as far as he was concerned, and he would not risk his life to indulge her flights of interest. Not even if it would make her back off of her questions.

[kysseh]

Savitri was wondering why he tensed when she neared. Shouldn't she have been afraid of him and not the other way around? Perhaps he was bracing himself for a slap. Well, she had not the energy or motivation to resort to that sort of behavior. She reserved that for more serious offenses, and he had yet to cross the line into those. He had touched her without her permission... and touched her in a... sexual sense, no less. That kiss had not been innocent or chaste or gentle. It had just been... demanding, really. Or that was how she saw it, anyway. Perhaps that's why he looked like that; he was waiting to be hit or screamed at. She might've yelled a bit if her head hadn't hurt. But.... well, no, he had not earned that quite yet. And she had been partially to blame anyway.

At least he opened one eye when she spoke to him. He got some favor for that, and she felt more than a little guilty when he finally--but very quietly--offered forth an explanation for the state of his weyr and his appearance. He had let the word issue go, and she was glad for it. It would have been repetitive to rehash the issue again. She had not spoken correctly; he had overreacted. She had apologized, and he had not expressly accepted the apology... but she would give him the benefit of the doubt and just assume that he had. Forgiveness was another issue entirely, but she was not about to fuss over that. She could accept tolerance. Forgiveness would have been better, but she could not quibble over details.

"I'm sorry to hear that everything got dumped in your lap. I don't have any doubts about your capabilities to handle it. You're obviously competent. But... still, you could've asked for help. Kaegan... and... well, the other wingleaders, since I haven't seen the junior weyrleader in quite awhile. You shouldn't have had to deal with all alone and had your already-terrible sleep habits disrupted," she said a bit reproachfully. She knew that sharing her thoughts about his competency would likely be a major boost to an already over-inflated ego, but... after the way she had offended him, he probably deserved that gift. She wouldn't deny him that. "You should consider different physical exercise. Something that gets your heart rate up for awhile, more than half a candlemark. That would help you fall asleep a little faster if you physically wore yourself out quite a bit." She had some ideas for what he could do, but he was an intelligent man. He could figure a few out for himself.

Had she been expecting anything different on the topic of the hides? No, but she had hoped. However, his words made it seem that things were very final, and she only made a small face of annoyance. He had admitted a lot to her, and he was being... very open. It did touch her that he was concerned for her welfare, though she rather thought he was that way only to save himself too. Were she to be killed by his error, he would certainly be in a significant amount of trouble. She liked to think it was because he cared about her, but that was... pushing it just a bit.

"I won't ask it of you again, then. I wish you would tell me, or someone, but... I won't ask. And I won't tell anyone about them either, since I'm assuming you don't make those common knowledge," she said quietly, stepping back to look him over a bit, her eyes already investigating him, trying to figure out what to do. Oh, shards, but... "By the way, that shirt is hideous," she said plaintively, the honest exasperation in her eyes almost comical. It really... was. He had not looked like that when she had met him before. "You didn't look like this before. You look... old. Honestly, you look so much nicer and more attractive when you're not dressed like this. You'd be far more sought after were it not for your facial expressions and the fact that your clothes are... highly unflattering." That would probably make him conceited, but she could be nothing but honest with him. Truly, he was an attractive man.

She worried her lower lip and looked around his weyr. It was cleaner now that the hides and the klah were taken care of. Still, it was the middle of the afternoon. Did she let him sleep and keep up his odd sleeping habits or make him stay awake and get him on a more regular schedule? He would be cranky either way, but... well, if he slept now, he might sleep until the next morning. Sighing, the goldweyrling acknowledged it wasn't her place to force him. "Well... I think I've kept you up long enough. Should.... should I let you sleep for now?"

[glamourie]

He was puzzled, and it showed. Ka'rys opened his other eye and gazed at Savitri, eyes meeting hers. She misunderstood. She most definitely misunderstood. He frowned and bowed his head slightly, working through the best way to explain what he'd meant to her. No, it wasn't Kaegan not doing her job, nor the fault of any of the Wingleaders (S'rei looked to be on death's door, in all honesty; he would have almost felt guilty adding to the other bronzerider's workload given that fact) - it was his own. The actual work load wasn't that bad. It was the things his mind kept coming up with - the paranoid thoughts of how unprepared the Weyr was for attack, and what they would do if they did suddenly have everything launched onto them. More than that, he was worried about Shmee. He couldn't care less about her on a personal level but if she was captured from Selenitas Hold, that lost Selenitas a queenrider. On top of that, it put Kaegan in charge, and Kaegan - while not a bad woman - did not have the backbone to lead an entire Weyr. She wasn't present enough. She was... too Benden-bred. It showed. Nothing against her personally (sometimes, he even envied R'non that he managed to snag the one goldrider at Selenitas that was not domineering and invasive -- Ka'rys cast a half-glance toward Savitri), he just did not fancy the idea of her trying to lead. Selenitas would fall very quickly, and Millieth was due to Rise next. Hepaticath was too young. Dark thoughts, dark thoughts. Why couldn't Shmee take a guard with her? If she'd asked his opinion, he would've suggested it. No one listened to him.

"As much as I appreciate the vote of confidence, Kaegan and the Wingleaders aren't the problem. I am. I keep thinking of the worst possible situations. Like Shmee running off to Selenitas Hold... alone... and somehow one of the northern Weyrs finding out about it." R'anatar would likely be as bad to find out as C'leon would. While some part of him still harbored loyalty to Fort, he had none for the new Fort Weyrleader. If Ciceroth hadn't caught Aslath when he did, Ka'rys may well have gone back and deliberately found a way to kill the little snot. He wasn't worthy of leading that Weyr. He wasn't. Then again, his Weyrwoman wasn't either. She wasn't anywhere near as intelligent as Kamerai was. Maybe he just had impossible standards. "I keep thinking how unprepared we are. Every time I see Kalierre, Uu'n and Z'hin, it worries me; I'm reminded constantly of the inadequacies, the things we need to improve on, and it's not something that is an easy fix. Teaching southerners that self-defense is not the same as active aggression isn't an easy task, especially when the person trying to make them understand that is northern-born. Even if it is necessary, they seem to see it as... me trying to turn Selenitas into one of the northern Weyrs. It's not exactly a fun feeling, and... I don't want to watch this Weyr fall; especially not on my watch."

He immediately regretted speaking. He was tired, half-asleep, and feeling somewhat sick from the lack of proper rest -- and it showed; he was being a lot more forthcoming than he usually was. Telling someone he actually cared about Selenitas was... odd. What was more odd was that he meant it. It wasn't that he feared the idea of failing (he did), but more that he dreaded the concept of people being killed so pointlessly. Some part of that was simply practical. He was Weyrleader; if people died because of his failures, no one would respect him. Not that many did already. But there was more to it than that. He didn't like the idea of so many thoughtless deaths. The idea genuinely upset him -- and he didn't know what to think of that. So he pushed it out of his mind. He'd discuss it with Ciceroth after he slept more; that way he knew he'd at least have all of his thoughts in order.

Ka'rys was grateful when Savitri finally dropped the topic of the hides, and he offered her a sheepish grin; it was the best confirmation that he could give. He would have commented on that, too, but she immediately began insulting his shirt and he cringed back, grasping the fabric protectively, as if she'd just offered it grievous insult. "I only own one shirt not like this one - well, two if you count gather finery. I only own five outfits all together. Don't mock my shirt," he replied weakly, not fully understanding what was wrong with it. Sure, it wasn't the prettiest thing to look at but neither was he, and it was dead comfortable. It was also dead cheap, which meant he could spend the rest of his marks on the finest gear for Ciceroth or the prettiest trinkets for Ophelie. Or another blanket. He really liked blankets. "Sought after -- what makes you think I'd ever want that? I'd rather be comfortable than dress up to look nice. I'll leave the pretty clothes to the women." He motioned absently to her before adding quietly, "And I swim regularly, there's nothing wrong with my exercise regime -- I swim at least a candlemark a day." He did. He loved to swim. "That's.. quite a bit for someone old..." Yeah, yeah, she'd been insulting the shirt, but he was starting to wake up proper, and he felt the need to comment on it.

"Whether you stay or go is up to you." He would go to sleep if she left; if she stayed he'd probably insist on migrating over to the bathing area to wash his face in an attempt to get past the sleep-fog. Whichever she chose. He didn't much care.