Nerding Out [Starcrafter Stall]

[Lotty]

A lot of people were attracted to things like mystery eggs and firelizards, jewelry for loved ones and themselves alike, little trinkets and small stuff that glittered just right. Then there were those flocked around the food stalls, grouching in line as they impatiently waited for their fried dough (such a nutritious way to start out the day) but Mi'rah was so far beyond that. He was Mr. Efficiency after all, and he was in need of important things like....no way, that is sooo neat...distractions obviously. Oh dear. It seemed that the bronzerider could fall into the traps set up by the Southern Folk just as easily. Sure, they lured him in with the least likely of things, but it didn't change the fact that they were going to get something out of a penny pincher like him.

He really had his heart set on only the necessities. He needed a new cane (since the one in use was loaned to him, and he just loathed the feeling that it wasn't his) and he needed some of that scar salve that the healers were pandering. The rider also had his mind set on a thank you gift. Yes, something that would tell that tricky greenrider Elysia that he was thankful for the company during his stay in the infirmary, but for the sake of good taste (and his automatic assumption that any and all positive attention given his way was pity and nothing else) he also wanted it to clearly state that they were even now. This was the end of the social exchange...friends they could be, but e wanted no misconceptions about where he stood on the matter.

It didn't seem that any of this was very important though as far as the subject of men and their toys were concerned, because Mi'rah had caught sights of one of those incredibly pointless tools that he couldn't help but possess and play with for days on end, and so it was that he was charmed into the starcrafter's display, and drawn to a starscope that sat on it's black velvet adorned table. Again, he needed to reiterate, sooooooo neat, he just had to have it... This is when he started getting a little ahead of himself. Almost sneakily he propped his cane against a table and picked up the handheld telescope. He began looking through the lens, first the right way and then the wrong way, and very careful to remember to put it up to the proper eye, the left side after all was always a little blurry and would make even the best glass look out of focus.

As he continued to admire the craftsmanship, he swatted away some of the incense smoke that had begun curling around his head. Did it have to be so dark in here? But he also forgot that he wasn't exactly stable with that healing leg and the swing of his hands left him swaying out of balance. He was never graceful before, but for the love of Faranth... he bumped into a table of rolled of starcharts and knocked them onto the floor, "S-shards and s-shells! S-s-sorry! So s-sorry..." all the while he still clung to that starscope....he almost had to buy it now. Oops.

[Ruby]

Tenlie was in glass heaven. Of course, it kind of looked like the night sky in here, with dim glows, black velvet, and star charts everywhere, but you could have made a strong case for her not having noticed any of it. Ten likely would have passed the stall by- the night sky wasn't really her thing, and she needed all the space on her walls for tools and storage space for her glass. No, wall hangings weren't really her thing. Any other day, she would have passed.

It was a flash that changed her mind, the unmistakable flash of a mirror in sunlight. Mirrors meant glass, and glass meant... well, Ten, basically. She was drawn to the flash like a moth to flame, and at the other end she found a lens. But it wasn't just any lens- it was an intricate system of lenses and mirrors, something Tenlie immediately took to the back corner of the stall and started attempting to disassemble. Of course, she wouldn't move anything that she wouldn't be able to put back, but that lens was just gorgeous. So carefully sanded to just the right size, shaped and polished from a much larger piece of glass, unless she was much mistaken. Too much chance for a bubble, at least with that much convexity...

She'd almost figured out the focusing device when the starcharts she was hiding behind tumbled to the ground. Startled out of her focus, Ten's eyes were huge, attempting to convey innocence to anyone who would look. She certainly didn't know the Bronzerider on the other side of the table, but either way, she honestly wasn't sure if the avalanche was his fault, or hers. Big eyes got bigger, and she jumped to the ground, adding her own "Sorry! I didn't mean it!" to his apologies. At least this way the stall owner wouldn't think she was filching or breaking... or prying into secrets of a craft not her own.

[Requiem]

Oh nooo they just didn't?! With a huff, the woman pushed herself up off her chair, the scroll she'd been reading - and subsequently had fallen across the broad expanse of her stomach when the heat caused her to dose off - slipping down and falling to the floor. Snatching up her fan, which was reinforced with metal ribbing to make it an excellent knuckle smacker for any kids who got too curious and had to touch, she waddled surprisingly quickly for a woman of her girth over toward the two miscreants and the terrible mess they'd made.

Snatching the scope from the man, she snarled, setting it back on the table and petting it lovingly for a moment before whirling on him, the fan landing in sharp swats along his shoulders and arms. "What is wrong with you? No touching! Can't you read the sign?!" Waving the fan in the direction of the...what the shards? With a 'hmph' she sped for the place where the sign had been, setting it back up and brushing off the sand. "No Touching!" she declared pointedly, swatting at each word as she said it and making the stand rock with the force. Her eyes turned to the girl, narrowing. "What are you doing over there, girl?" Descending upon her like a bat out of hell, the plump woman's face turned a rather lovely tomato red before shading to a truly violent hue of purple while she trembled so bad it seemed she might spontaneously explode right on the spot. "You...this...what...UGH!" So eloquent. The short, fat little stallkeeper kicked the girl hard in the ankle.

"Stop gawking, both of you. You're lucky I don't call the Lordholder to deal with you! The nerve! Don't just stand there, pick it all up! Every last chart...and if one isn't sitting neatly stacked on that table in just the same order I had it in, so help me, I'll boil you both down for parts!" Nevermind that boiled human wasn't really the best material for making stargazers. They didn't need to know that! Huffily, she set to deftly putting the piece back together that the girl had so - infuriatingly - disassembled, grumbling to herself about nasty girl fingerprints all over the lenses as she did so. "And in this insufferable heat. You people want to kill me, to give me the stroke, well damn you all, I won't give in so easily. HAVE YOU FINISHED YET?!"

[Lotty]

For a moment...it was ok. Mi'rah was about to share a smile with the glasscrafter and reassure her that it was all his fault. It wasn't hard to take the blame for something, especially when it was his fault. He was a klutz, a bull in a china shop, he was more surprised that he didn't do more damage than that. He looked over at the girl as she gathered up his mess and reaching out to a table for support he was just beginning to try and begin helping with the clean up. That was until he was so rudely interrupted by the stall keeper. She was just.....so nice?

He turned only to have the instrument snatched from him, and before he could stutter out that he was planning on buying it, he was being assaulted! Whap, wham, whamp! Doppelganger who was casually curled around his neck just about had a fit. Violence was soooo bad! NO HURT MINE! BAD BAD HURT NO MINE GO WAY PLEASE BIGGYSHORTONE! The rider however just stood there and took it, only flinching when the silver tips came too close to his face for comfort. Weary of attacks to his head he was...that was all he had going for him, and he couldn't afford to lose too many more brain cells. After the vicious attack - Mi'rah reasoned that she was just angry because she hadn't been laid in a good long time, but then again he wasn't taking his frustrations out on everyone else - she had taken to pointing out the sign, punctuating each word with another whap. Was she suggesting that he was dumb....that he was illiterate? Why he was......that was just offensive! He furrowed his brows...the woman actually would have been safer making a comment about his appearance than his smarts.

"N-no...I can't read it when it is soooo dark and smokey in here," he explained a little bit of bitterness creeping into his voice. S'rei did tell him to start....insulting people right back. In fact it was a command, not a request, and if there was ever a time to start throwing around the mean language, then maybe it was now? He closed his gaping mouth only to be shocked again when the woman kicked that poor girl in the ankle. The ankle! That was such an ouchie! So many bones were in that joint...he didn't know anything about Tenlie, but he did know that she needed to be able to walk without that thing swelling up from an unwarranted kick. He picked up his cane and did something bold - or at least relatively bold considering his usual social interactions - and poked at the fat little wench's midriff, "You! This is my mess, leave her alone....and the only thing that is going to give you a s-stroke is is too much fried dough..." he could have nastily added "fatty" to the end of that, but he was sure that it was already implied, that and the fact that Peccadillo was sure to tack it on for him, Fatty. She wasn't one for many words so she left it at that and slipped back into the rider's vest pocket.

[Ruby]

Tenlie had actually smiled at the rider, mainly to let him know that it was alright, she would get it. She could tell that his leg was bad, with that cane, and it couldn't be easy to get down on the floor. She had just straightened up to put the first chart back on the table when the tempest struck.

Ten's mouth gaped as the woman smacked at her customer! A good salesperson did not smack, Ten knew. She'd tended the Glasscrafters' stall at a few gathers in her own time, and she knew full well that you caught more flits with nectar than with rubbish. The girl flinched at every blow (even though they weren't aimed at her), then jumped to her feet with a "Hey!" when the salamandyr chimed in. "Look, you're hurting him!" she added, although she was clearly ignored (and anyway, even Ten didn't know if she meant the man or the mandyr). The stallminder was now physically punctuating her sign, and the sharp rap of the fan on the sign made Ten snap her mouth closed. No, she hadn't seen the sign. Oops. It was her fault, after all.

But it didn't stop there. The woman's rage was turned her direction, and Ten quailed. The half-assembled fargazer, which Tenlie had left carefully on a table, was scooped up, and before she could think, the awful little woman had kicked her in the ankle. Ten gasped, tears coming to her eyes, and shifted her weight off that foot. Ouuuch, that one hurt. There was, however, almost no time to dwell on the pain. The woman had insulted her work. Ten squared her shoulders an hobbled up next to the rider as he poked the woman in the middle, and added, "And there do be NO fingerprints, I shall guarantee it! I do be a Journeywoman Glasscrafter, madam," Cue finger jab towards knots, "I do know how to handle a lens." Ooo, scary. She ignored that Mi'rah had claimed the mess as his own, for the moment; she and the rider could clear that up later, once the awful beast was subdued.

[Requiem]

Didn't know what that annoying little screaming creature was, but she definitely wasn't the sort to be thrown off by an admittedly articulate bug. No, not at all. She was too busy correcting the mess the girl had made of her fargazer. A finger poking at her caused her eyes to flash up, fire blazing dangerously behind them. She hadn't just...? Oh yes, she had. "Glasscrafter. Last I heard, glasscrafters aren't starcrafters, and do you think smiths come in here and disassemble my wares for the parts? Shards, you stupid little wench. Keep your filthy paws off what doesn't belong to you and what you don't understand! What are you, some kind of half-wit? Can't even speak properly. Hmph!" Ignoring the girl, she began to turn away when yet another someone dared to poke her.

Suprisingly swift for one so portly, her hand descended on the cane and she yanked, not caring if it landed the obviously injured rider flat on his arse. It was his own fault, going about throwing all her goods around and then poking her with his cane when he needed it. She felt no remorse. Although she was very, very much inclined to start smacking him with the cane. Oh yes. "Your m-m-mess?" she mocked ruthlessly. "The halfwit is taking apart my gazers! Unless you've suddenly manifested in two equally pathetic forms, that is not your m-m-mess. Not particularly fit yourself, are you, mr. big and bad bronzerider? Isn't your ilk supposed to be trim? Not to mention brighter than an inchworm? And to think, you're that portly before delivering six children."

Waving the cane about indiscriminately - and narrowly avoiding the two people here - she flung it at Mi'rah's feet. "If it's your mess, then pick it up, gimp. I won't hesitate to call for the Lordholder and fill him in on all the trouble you two wannabe thieves have caused me." Her little piggy face screwed up into a nasty little frown, as she set back to putting the finishing touches on the stargazer.

[Lotty]

Oh no. Not that he hadn't planned on the woman retaliating (that was very, very much planned on based on her prior aggression from before) it was that he didn't intend on her being so swift and as such he hadn't the time to pull the cane back. She had it in her grasps and was quickly able to lose his claim over it, and just as quickly he was losing his balance. A shot of pain ran through his leg as his weight was shifted over it, and that was enough to leave him falling right onto his behind. How horribly embarrassing, or at least it would be if Mi'rah felt that he had any shred of dignity left anyway. He had survived worse he supposed, this was just all... very inconvenient. He would never try chivalry again. He never stood up for himself, but now he questioned standing up for anyone else while he was at it. Just got him hurt.

EEEEEEE The brown mandyr squealed as he fell with his beloved mindmate. SO SCARY! So scary Rah-rah! Find fixer make better now. Go go go. Doppelganger was more than ready to high tail it out of this situation. His was getting hurt, and needed a fixer and violence was just bad. He would have none of it. Mi'rah unfortunately had to stick around...why exactly when running (or at least limping away) seemed like a viable option he didn't know, but the bronzerider could certainly be stubborn from time to time, and in these moments he really did seem to own his rank.

Sitting up, he reached rather feebly for the cane that had been cast down by his feet. He didn't know what bothered him most about the woman...it wasn't really the barb at his physique. He'd heard all of that long before and much much worse. It could have been the mocking of his stutter, the childhood affliction that while subtle enough, seemed always to flare up at the most inopportune times, but again, he'd heard it all. Nor was the term gimp even that insidious to him...that is what he was until it all healed...indefinitely. No, no, it had to be much deeper than that to inspire the ire of someone so normally sedate. He wanted there to be an inherent good in everyone. He wanted people to be stray sheep that could get better. Maybe the thing that needled him the most about her was that she wasn't. She just wasn't nice and probably never would be and so like so many that came before her she was just another figure to disappoint and disrupt his inbred desire for cosmic justice.

But he would begin cleaning up, if only to avoid the Lord Holder. He...wasn't overly familiar with the relations between the Hold and Selenitas Weyr...he didn't make it part of his concerns, but he had some basic understandings and he would hate to be the scapegoat should mountains be made out of this little molehill. Would a rational Lord come to the beck and call of one little ogre of a woman? No. Were all people rational? Of course not. Hence the apprehension and seemingly quiet acceptance of defeat until, for a moment, he apologetically he looked at Tenlie. He was sure that she could very well handle herself as any woman in a man's craft could, but nonetheless..."Ma'am, I'd appreciate it...if you w-would refrain from being so disparaging towards the young Journeywoman....." and then, "also...you are kidding yourself....you are still approximately twice my size around. I would think that....that a stallkeeper could have basic enough math and observation skills to notice that."

[Ruby]

The Bronzerider seemed to have given up, but Tenlie was nowhere near done. Setting her hands on her hips, the girl inserted herself between the fallen Rider and his attacker, shooting a not unfriendly look over her shoulder at him again. It was very gallant of him to defend her, especially from his position on the floor, but on behalf of her craft she couldn't take that sort of insult. She hoped he understood, and didn't feel emasculated or something equally stupid and male. Spreading her stance wide and squaring her shoulders, she faced down the shorter woman, managing to wince only slightly as she settled weight on her bruised ankle.

Lowering her voice to a reasonable tone (clearly in contrast to her aggressive stance), Tenlie began her quiet, controlled tirade. "Aye, and where do you believe those lenses come from? They do be made of glass, no? I do realize that the Starcraft has split away, but it did begin as a branch of Smithcraft, just as Glasscraft did. I do be no thief, nor half-wit, and I shall be called no such thing. I DO wish to know what you are called, and to whom you report. No craft I know would wish to be represented this way."

Deliberately, Tenlie reached into the pouch at her side, and counted five marks out onto the table next to the stallkeeper. The starscope she had been disassembling was clearly one of the 5 mark pieces, as Tenlie had selected it from just above the sign showing its price, and it was several inches shorter than the larger size. Five more marks went down next to the first five, and she selected a starchart from her next to her feet, marked "Selenitas". Then, with a lightning-fast grab, she removed the mostly assembled viewer from the Stallkeeper's hands and started working without taking her eyes off the woman, attempting to return it to it's original state. "Bronzerider, did you want that viewer?" she asked Mi'rah, flicking her eyes toward him for only a second. "I do believe that tidying the stall is the Keeper's job, not the customer's. Also, it do be very clear that we have overstayed our welcome." As if they ever had any. Was Ten asking for it? Almost certainly. Was she afraid of Lord Holders, or this pitiful excuse for a human being?

Certainly not.

[Requiem]

"Will you tell the little screamer to shut its trap already?" the stout woman growled irritably. She stared up at Tenlie, then, eyes narrowing into nasty little slits at the woman who was clearly attempting to intimidate her just by her stance. Her eyes flicked toward Mi'rah. "Well aware of the weight, gimp. I'm the one carrying it, after all." He was doing as he should be and helping clean up his mess, however, so he was spared the majority of her sharp tongue. Besides which, there was little sense in arguing with the man when he couldn't follow a point. One, it wasn't her job to be fit. Two, she was the mother of a half-dozen bairns. Had every right to be carrying a few extra pounds, and he was pretty plump for a dragonrider.

The one she was more angry with, however, seemed to have no common sense at all. "Represented in what way, Amazon? Am I supposed to let you waltz right in here then and do whatever you please, taking apart whatever you like simply because you're in the Glasscraft which shares a common ancestor in Smithcraft with Starcraft? And to take your word that you're not a saboteur or a thief? If you weren't up to anything, why the shards were you hiding? You are crazy, aren't you? If you must know, I'm Master Dinya, and unless you want to send little whiny messages to the northern continent about how scary little fat Dinya whalluped you for acting like a thief and very shady character, you're out of luck, missy."

Squeaking as the scope was snatched from her hands - now fully reassembled so she had no clue what the girl was doing with it now - she noted the coins with a very obvious frown. "Fine then. If you were going to pay for it like a normal person you should have just done so in the first place," she grumped, settling her hands on her hips. "And tidying up isn't the same as cleaning up after clumsy hooligans. A Selenitas wingsecond should know better, particularly since this is the first time we've let your kind come to one of our Gathers in ages. You," she added, pointing to the Journeyman. "I don't expect to understand the concept of taking responsibility for your own mistakes, much less matters of politics."

[Lotty]

But...but...but....he already had most of the charts picked up.... By now the bronzerider was on knees (oh my, would he pay for that in the morning) and trying to ignore the women squabbling over him. He didn't do these kinds of situations very well, but that went without saying, and so he was just doing his best to get out of it. The bronzerider let whatever little comments the stallkeeper might have had for him go in favor of focusing on getting up. To think she would acknowledge that he was a gimp and then also point out his weight...how exactly did she expect him to be fit when he was so obviously incapable of exercise? Nevermind that the formerly mentioned condition was recent and the latter was not...she didn't necessarily know that right?

In some kind of odd balancing act, he curled the bunch of scrolls under one arm while managing his cane in the other, and trying to prop himself up with his good leg. He was mildly surprised by the results, but had no time to celebrate as he caught the tail end of the two trading marks and wares (sort of unwillingly) and the question directed his way. Yes, he did want the the stargazer, but not if he wasn't paying for it! What was he even supposed to say to this without being offensive? Sharding Weyr...he just knew that if he had spent another turn or two at the Hold he would have learned the proper ettiquette for this situation...

Unfortunately all he was able to quiver out was a "Y-yes...but...but..." but this woman was infuriating him and he really didn't know what to do about it. He'd have to ask S'rei he supposed, because had it not been for his rule, he would have never fallen on his ass or gotten into this squabble or any of it. Mi'rah was having trouble seeing why he couldn't just avoid bad things when he saw them...what was so wrong with that? Nevermind that he felt good just trying to defend someone else...that was all beside the point. He settled on agreeing with Tenlie, "I think that we should be on our way..." he said in a muted tone, and dropping the scrolls back on the table in a much more haphazard way than Dinya probably would have liked, he limped over towards the glasscrafter. He muttered something or another about not caring if some little hold invited them over to party or not, before whispering to Tenlie, "You realize I owe you now right?"

[Ruby]

Ten ignored most of Master Dinya's accusations, her temper cooling now that she's said her piece (and she figured it wasn't worth it to fight any further - clearly the awful little woman wasn't going to change her mind no matter what the truth was). One thing, though, she did have to take issue with. "If I may make an observation, you did be asleep in the first place," Tenlie commented, relaxing her stance and her tone. "You're lucky you did no be robbed, Master, and by people much worse than us." Yep, there was only so much breeding Ten could override, and although she had certainly clashed with Masters in the past, she couldn't quite bring herself to toss propriety that far out the window. Although Ten certainly didn't intend it, maybe it would mollify the stallkeeper slightly.

She did make note of the keeper's name though, offering it up to Big Brother (not that the forgetful Blue would remember, but still, it was worth a try). The Masterstarcrafter would still get a carefully worded formal complaint, with the signature of a master at the Glasscraft Hall if Tenlie could manage it. Shouldn't be a problem, really - Masters working at a Gather without assistants were either very unlucky or had volunteered, and Dinya didn't seem like the volunteering type. Anyway, Ten was well liked at the Glasscraft hall. Someone would back her up.

With a momentary cringe, Ten remembered Mi'rah. Poor Bronzer, caught up in Hall struggles that had nothing to do with him, insulted just because Master Dinya was in a bad mood. Well, the argument was wrapping up, and Mi'rah's whisper only reinforced that. Counting out another five marks, she gave Master Dinya a final halfhearted glare, stuffed her purchases in her bag, took Mi'rah by the elbow, and purposefully steered him out of the boat's dusky interior. Only once they were clear of Master Dinya's ability to throw scrolls did Ten turn to the Rider and release his arm, slowing her pace considerably and smiling broadly again (no grudges with this one). "Oh, only if you want," she said, flapping her hand vaguely. "I do have plenty of marks at the Weyr. But I did be eying one of those mystery eggs," she added, patting her mostly empty purse. Cringing briefly as her ankle twinged, she adopted a limp not unlike Mi'rah's, and had to laugh. "Oh look, we do match."

[Lotty]

Mi'rah was relieved to be led out of the stall, and even more relieved not to have felt the thud of a rolled up scroll colliding with the back of his head. That whole situation was a mess, and at least mildly, he was a tad embarrassed that he had to be saved from it by the younger woman. Sure, he was exceedingly polite and generally nicer to the other sex than a large portion of the Benden men, but it didn't change over thirty turns of northern influence. He did have a certain sense of masculinity that was threatened by the exchange and the overwhelming desire to preserve it made him want to reject the help and recede from the arm that had linked with his. But this was Mi'rah, and maybe for the sake of manners, he convinced himself that he had given up what he had in independence when he became - as Master Dinya so eloquently put it - a gimp.

Besides, Tenlie was nice, and the bronzerider couldn't not be kind with someone who had been so kind to him. Just imagine if everyone could just treat each other as well, the world would move much more smoothly. As it was though, the man just had to appreciate the rare good soul when he encountered them, or as in this case, show his gratitude by repaying her. Yes, now not only did he have a greenrider to shop for, but a glasscrafter too...though her brick hint there made things much, much, easier. Thank Faranth for the little things in life.

"A mystery egg?" it was funny to the bronzerider how prevalent and common pets were here. Even as a metallic rider up north he would have been petrified to possess even a feline out of fear that it could be taken away from him as nothing more than a cruel joke. It was reasons like this that he cherished his two salamandyrs so very much. With something of a boyish grin, he was quick to agree to the young woman's suggestion, "Oh, I see no reason why...um...why I can't manage that for you..." Then he caught her cringe and subsequent laugh, he had to give her credit for having a good sense of humor about it all, "I suppose we do don't we? Sorry about that..." he had no idea why he was apologetic about everything, "it's not...it's not swelling up or anything? Not that I imagine that I could be much help if...it was..."

[Ruby]

"Aye, I do be hoping for a companion for my 'lizard, but a mystery egg do be so much more exciting than just buying a regular egg! And Big Brother is no one to be nasty to a friend, he'll just assume they do be out to get him, so the chance of a bird or a dud does no worry me," she said, limping along happily. His grin was met with one of her own, before she furrowed her brow and blushed slightly. "I do be sorry... it has just occurred to me that I do no know your name. I do be Tenlie - well, call me Ten. Nice to meet you," she added with a smile. Under normal circumstances she would have shaken the man's hand, but while he had a cane and she was struggling to stay upright, she figured they should both concentrate on walking.

Speaking of her ankle, it was hurting more and more with each step. The Rider noticed, obviously, but Ten didn't want to be a problem, not to someone who was so nice. "Oh, I do believe it will swell if I do spend too much more time upright," she said airily. She'd never been one to complain about injuries, after all. "But I do be sure a bag of ice will do the trick. This do no be the worst I've had." With a sideways glance at Mi'rah, she added, "If I may ask, what did cause yours? It does no look like you've always had that limp." Hopefully he wouldn't take it amiss, she was honestly curious. Not too many Dragonriders around with injuries like that.

Only a few steps later, though, Ten's ankle twinged again, and she stumbled sideways slightly. Ouch, that awful woman must have been wearing steel-toed boots. Figured. Scanning the Gather for a table or something, Tenlie eyed a bench off to one side and headed for it, assuming Mi'rah would figure it out. Her ankle hurt, and she had to get off of it right now. She hoisted it up onto her lap (glad she'd chosen short pants today instead of a skirt) and examined the purple discoloration blossoming just above the bone. She was fairly certain it wasn't sprained or broken, but possibly the muscle was bruised. With a truly sad look at Mi'rah, she sighed. "I do believe we must re-schedule," she said, massaging down her foot to make sure no feeling was lost. "Did you plan on stopping by any other day?"

[Lotty]

In perfect form he smiled at her again. Well, well, well, he supposed they hadn't traded their names yet had they? Well, since she had just given him hers, he had to do the same, "My name is Mi'rah, its real nice to meet you Tenlie," it was a pretty name he thought, but then again he told all girls that they had pretty names and he really thought it was about time that he cut that habit out. Although he never used such a comment as a way of flirting (even he wasn't as lame as to use that as a pick up line) he figured that he was at such an age where saying that just wasn't cute anymore.

The next question didn't bother the bronzerider as much as it might have someone else, "No, no, it's fine...its just not a very interesting story..." He wasn't exactly proud of the injury, but there was no point in dodging the subject because her suspicions were right. He hadn't always had that limp, but he could explain it all as soon as they sat down. It seemed like he wanted to make it to that bench just as badly as she did, and only after sinking into the seat did he explain his little war story, "Uhm...I got it when Fort attacked. I was at the hatching sands...a couple of browns ganged up on me and Kierjaarth and I caught a talon or two across my leg and....my tendons got all....well I mean, the healers know what that stuff. I just know I can't run anymore," and that his leg was ugly now. He still had it in bandages still even though the stitches were out.

He was completely honest about his story, without even a little bit of embellishment that he could have added. He very well could have aggrandized himself if he wanted to, but that would have been lying and lying was wrong...except this one time like he was about to do, "Uh yeah. Yeah, I wanted to come back before the end for sure," even though he was learning to hate gathers. That didn't matter. He had to come back and get the girl her egg and there was no other way about it.

[Ruby]

Once she made the bench, Ten picked the conversation up again. "I do prefer Ten, please," she corrected, looking up at Mi'rah's face through her eyelashes. Her cheeks had colored slightly, but not for the reasons he might think- she was simply embarassed to make the adjustment. She really didn't like her full name. "It do be nice to meet you as well, Mi'rah," she added, smiling again. "No nickname, I do presume?" That one was cheeky, accompanied by a little head tilt. She was feeling much better now that she was off her ankle and out of the sun.

Although he was modest about his story, Ten slowly lifted her hands, touching them to her lips. "You did be one of the Riders protecting the stands? You do be a hero!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. "I did be there that day, and useless. I do owe you my life," she said, her delivery totally serious. "Aye, you do be a hero!" she added with a bit of a bounce. She, just your run-of-the-mill Crafter, was sitting with a man who had literally saved her life. And he was so nice! And modest! Ten was nothing if not enthusiastic about life, and her life had just become like a Harper's ballad. If she had known what it meant to squee, she might have.

She quickly got herself back under control quickly, though, not wanting to seem strange. She dropped her gaze back to her ankle with another blush, prodding gently at the spreading bruise. "I mean... well. It do be a shame you hurt your leg. And mine do be feeling much better, if you were no planning on coming back- I do no want to be an inconvenience. You must be a very busy man," she guessed, eyeing his knots again. What an idiot she was, asking a Bronzerider to come back to the Gather another day just for her. He probably could barely even spare the time to be here today. Now she felt bad. Except that he had said he planned to come back... what confusion. Ten wasn't used to high-ranked people or heroes, not these days. She hadn't even visited her hold since she was 10, and after her cousin was born no one there had paid attention to her anyway. Apparently, she was out of practice.