Hatching Feast

[Administrator]

All day, after the Hatching had finished, the kitchens had been hard at work, making lots of food to be able to hold over the entire Weyr for the Hatching Feat. Green salads and tubers lined one buffet-style table, and large, juicy Southern fruits, as big as they could be, lined another. Another was full of cheese and bread, and a couple large pots of soup, and another had a giant, whole, spiced wherry, as well as other kinds of meat. Finally, the last table was the one the weyrbrats would have to be sternly told not to touch until they finished their supper. An enormous cake with sugary frosting was in the center, and that was surrounded by bubbly pies smothered in cool cream. As for drinks, fine Blossom wines were bottled on the many tables, as was water and juice. Kegs of other kinds of harder alcoholic beverages were lined up on the wall, probably the stuff that would make a few people quite drunk as the evening progressed. For the people sitting at the largest table, the ones who held the highest rank (including Shmee, Ka'rys, Kaegan, R'non, S'rei, and anyone else they invited on a whim), got a few bottles of some Benden white.

As the sun began to set, the kitchen staff were ready. Setting out some plates, eating utensils, and glasses, they rang a bell that was situated outside of the Main Hall, loud enough to ring across the Weyr so that everyone knew that the Feast was starting.

Already, people began pouring in. Robika was the first at the food, piling a plate with anything that tickled her fancy. Lura, however, was being slower, setting Liralla up at one table with a plate of a modest amount of food. "Ma, no! Pie!" the babe whined as Istery draped over her shoulder.

"'Ralla, you need to eat dinner first," Lura told her firmly. Zirian hissed at Liralla, and Lura frowned. Zirian never was this crazy around Liralla, but Lura ignored it.

--

"S'rei, Aslath's giving us a lift up," she murmured where she lay curled on the couch, Shei in her arms, as close as she could lay with S'rei. Opening her eyes, she found herself not wanting to move. She wanted to be here in this way with S'rei forever. But she was obliged to go. She had to greet the new weyrlings, promote new Wingleaders and wingseconds, and perhaps meet Savitri, who would be working with Shmee a lot in the future. She grumbled, lifting her head enough to kiss S'rei very lightly on the cheek.

Stretching her legs out, she sighed. She didn't want to take the time to change, but she needed to do it anyway. She couldn't be wearing loose sleep-wear to the Hatching Feast! "Hold Shei for a moment?" she asked with a yawn, passing him the babe as she took off into their room, changing quickly into simple blue gown. Blue had always been her favorite color, she thought drolly, even when she was little. People told her it brought out the color in her eyes. Pushing her arms in the sleeves, she quickly laced up the front as she darted back to S'rei.

"All right," she muttered to herself as she picked up a scrap of hide with her notes on it for the Feast. "Got my notes, got Shei, got you, and we'll go up on Aslath. Do you need anything?" she asked quickly, glancing him over. Her eyes softened on Shei.

[reqqy]

S'rei had fallen asleep, his former and present weyrmate comfortably nestled into the curve of his arm. The man hadn't been sleeping particularly well of late, though it could be argued that this had more to do with habits developed over the last turns than the stress - or lack, as the case may be - that he'd encountered since his return. Salenth, too, was quiet after the Hatching, though he'd expressed his displeasure with His clearly enough just hours ago. The deposed bronze had retreated to the weyr they'd recently occupied after ferrying over what few things S'rei had retained throughout his 'travels.' Even now, he lay, silently regarding the sky and thinking that he'd love to just drill himself into the ground right about now. It was bothersome whenever His wasn't at the head of at least a wing; S'rei could always be counted on to fill up a day with training exercises, a definite carryover from his turns spent as one of Benden's wingleaders.

Shmee's quiet words didn't reach him, though her stirring drew the man out of his doze. He blinked blearily. S'rei was never very good at following things after just waking up. Running a hand through his shorn hair - the which stuck up anyway, at this point, so it didn't matter - he nodded docilely at her request and accepted the trifling weight of his daughter. Shei still slept. Gazing upon her placid features, S'rei felt the unreasonable desire to make certain this peace, this innocence, was never disturbed. It didn't matter that his rational mind was calling him a complete idiot, to ever expect such a thing. He couldn't help the fierce protectiveness that came over him. They'd already lost one child before its birth. This one would have the sort of life that every parent dreamed for their child.

When the Weyrwoman returned in her gown, he merely stared, still not awake enough to have any idea as to what was going on. Shmee looked stunning. Shards, she always seemed to look stunning, but normally she wasn't this formal. He rose, bringing his infant daughter with him. The mother was rooting around, looking for something, and then she ticked off a mental list. At her question, he simply blinked, lost. "Are we going to a meeting with the holds or something? You know, you don't have to take me along; I'm perfectly content to just spend time with our daughter." S'rei gave her his sleepy bear grin, an expression that hadn't at all changed over the turns.

It's the Hatching Feast, Mine, Salenth interjected, the accusation subtle in his tone. Please don't embarrass me. It's bad enough that I can't be near that gold without getting into an argument. The last thing I need is for Aslath's to be mad at you, so she has more things to take out on me. Normally, the man would have shot back something scathing - if not witty. Normally. Right now he was just getting his mind around the first part. S'rei frowned. What he was wearing was good enough in most cases, the dark colors adding formality where formality was needed, but with Shmee on his arm? Oh well. He had nothing better, and no way of obtaining anything in a short amount of time. There simply weren't any other men his size from which to borrow.

His next thought was a little more unsettling. Why was Shmee taking him? She had her Weyrleader. He might be her weyrmate, but he had no place of authority within the weyr at the moment, not even as a wingleader. S'rei didn't know Ka'rys particularly well, though he'd heard of him. It would be problematic if the new Weyrleader took exception to his presence. Selenitas could not afford to be divided at this time.

"Are you certain this is wise?" he asked Shmee quietly, though he was already moving toward the weyrledge and the gold who didn't seem of a mind to countenance Salenth's presence. Since when had wisdom ever been a factor in the Weyrwoman's decisions, after all?

[kysseh]

It had taken negotiating, compromising, and a great deal of insistence on Savitri's part that she be released from the Infirmary. Her injuries were largely superficial but covered a wide area; there were at least a dozen distinct scratches in the skin of her chest and stomach, not including the five parallel gouges along her left upper arm. The healers had stitched together the more serious of the wounds, albeit after she had settled a full and sleepy Hepaticath in her new room in the weyrling barracks. The bleeding had stopped by the time she arrived at the Infirmary, but it had taken awhile to clean her wounds and stitch the skin of her torso back together. The healer-turned-weyrling had been dosed nearly unconscious with applications of numbweed salve and was finally feeling human again after several hours of letting it wear off. Her torso was swathed in bandages, as well as the upper portion of her left arm, and she felt awful. The mention of the Hatching Feast and the mere thought of having to be stuck in the Infirmary overnight forced her into action, and she somehow fanagled her way into being released.

Now, changing into a mildly nicer outfit in her room in the barracks, Hepaticath peacefully snoozing with a very full belly, the young woman was wondering if she did not regret it. She had looked at herself in a reflective surface to brush her shoulder-length hair and tie it back into a neat bun with her good hand and had been surprised by the lack of color in her face. Shards, but the blood loss had been bad. Checking that none of her wounds were bleeding through the bandages, she carefully pulled on a light green sleeveless tunic , aware that her torso looked unusually bulky and deformed beneath it. She cared little; it was the most comfortable item she owned. There was just no way she could fit into her good Gather dress, not with the way she was bundled in bandages. She pulled on a pair of pale beige pants and then snugged her feet into her boots, wincing as she stood. As much as it hurt to move--she refused to be dosed completely unconscious with numbweed--she was not about to miss this celebration.

It took her far longer than she wanted to to get to the Main Hall, and it was already looking crowded. With her injured left arm settled in a swing, she kept a plate in one hand and stocked up on a few tubers and fruits, trying to avoid the heavier crowds as she was not sure her injuries could handle much jostling. With half her mind occupied with Hepaticath's dream-like mumblings, she had a faint smile decorating her face as she up a bit of bread and squeezed her way through the crowds. She hissed softly as her injured arm was bumped, moving away as quickly as she could.

After a moment, she found an open spot at one of the lesser tables. There were already a few people there, and she seated herself at an open chair as far away from the end of the table as she could to avoid any more jostling. She realized a bit belatedly that she had forgotten to get herself a drink but did not feel the risk was worth getting up again. A few bites of fruit might help restore her, but for the moment, the exhausted and energy-drained weyrling was reluctant to get up. Instead, she interested herself with watching the people that went by, taking the time to sort through the events of the day. Hepaticath... mauling... the boy and the bronze.... it was a lot to process all at once.

[rynnti]

M’ritz slipped into his finest clothes: a much-too-large Gather outfit handed down to him by his father. There was no way it would ever fit him properly, unless he managed to magically sprout up. The outfit consisted of loose dark brown pants which dragged on the floor, a loose white shirt with really long sleeves and a high collar, and a beautiful dark brown vest that was laced together with very fine lace. The vest had dragons of every color embroidered on either sides of the lacing. His father had long ago outgrown it, and handed it down to his son before M’ritz left for the Weyr. The young brownrider really needed to have it altered to fit him, but it would have to do for the Hatching Feast. Brushing out a few last wrinkles, M’ritz turned to Origoth. The brown weyrling was sprawled out on his couch, only half-awake. “Do I look as ridiculous as I feel?” M’ritz fussed over the shirt and vest again. /Maybe you should lace the vest tighter? Or would that be too tight? Don’t make it too tight, M’ritzmine. I really don’t think that would be healthy at all./ Origoth looked over His very carefully. He was trying really hard to find a reason that this really baggy outfit should work on his rider. /What will happen if your outfit is inappropriate for the Feast? You won’t get in trouble will you? Your white robes fit better, maybe you should wear those instead?/ Origoth’s whirling eyes began to show some yellow. He was worrying too much over his rider and it was beginning to show. Recognizing this, although not entirely knowing why or how, M’ritz gently stroked his dragonet’s head. “Don’t worry about it, Origoth. I’m sure this will do just fine. Try and get some sleep while I’m at the Feast, okay?” Origoth yawned and crooned to his rider. /I will try, M’ritzmine. Just be careful!/ M’ritz smiled at his Bondmate and gave the brown one final scratch of the eyeridge. “I will be!”

Moving quickly, M’ritz managed to get into the Main Hall before it was too crowded. He quickly grabbed a plate and began filling it with as much food as would fit. He grabbed some tubers, fruit, cheese, bread, and a couple slices of spiced wherry. His young eyes kept wandering to the dessert table with the cake and bubbly pies, but a woman from the kitchens was still guarding them. She cast a stern glare in M’ritz direction, and the small weyrling wandered back to the fruit table, trying to make it look like that was where he had been heading in the first place. The brownweyrling moved towards the low tables after adding a final piece of fruit to his plate. He paused once to see if the bubbly pies had been left alone, but was greeted by another glare from their loyal guardian. He doubted she would move until everyone else in the Weyr had arrived. He sat down at the closest chair, cursing somewhat angrily to himself for not picking a seat at the end of the table as another boy sat down there. That would have been the perfect place to sit for a quick dash to the dessert table once it was open for business. Whatever, he would still be able to get a headstart on everyone else. When you’re less than five feet tall, it really isn’t hard to sneak somewhere.

Looking up from a huge mouthful of wherry, the weyrling was embarrassed to see Savitri sitting down right across from him. To avoid the awkwardness of trying to greet the new goldrider with a huge hunk of wherry in his mouth, M’ritz tried to chew his meat faster so that he could actually swallow the large chunk he had bitten off. Normally he wouldn’t scarf down his food so messily, but he was hungry! After the Hatching, all he had done was feed, oil, and bathe his Origoth. Dragonets were a lot harder to take care of than he had previously thought. He had oiled the same three spots on the brown’s hide fifty times already! Having been the second to Impress, M’ritz had not been around when Savitri was mauled by the bronze. So, naturally, after viciously swallowing his oversized mouthful of wherry, he was caught off guard by the other weyrling’s wounded arm. The bubbly pies completely forgotten, M’ritz began wondering what had happened. He really wanted to ask. He wanted to ask Savitri what had happened to her arm more badly then he wanted to try and swipe one of the pies before he was allowed to. He squirmed around in his seat a little bit, biting his small lip to keep himself contained. Maybe…maybe he could work up to it? He’d have to start a conversation first. But would Savitri listen to him? He was really short, and really young. He barely looked old enough to be able to stand for the Hatching, even if he was two Turns older than the cutoff. It was worth a try. After all, he wasn’t tiny Moritz anymore. He was M’ritz, and he was bonded to the best brown dragon ever. Origoth even had war paint markings around his eyes, making him even more awesome than he would have been before. He worried a little bit… A lot a bit… That didn’t stop him from being the coolest thing M’ritz had ever experienced. It just meant that it was going to be really hard for M’ritz to get hurt with his dragon looking out for him. Coughing a little, to make sure that he had all of the food cleared from his throat, M’ritz decided that he could handle this. He could talk to a goldrider.

“You’re Savitri, the new goldrider. Right?” He began, suddenly a little less sure of himself. Had he spoken too boldly? Would she no longer want to talk to him? Why was he worrying so much? Origoth was clearly rubbing off on him. “I’m M’ritz. I… I Impressed the brown Origoth.” He paused, smiling with pride at having Impressed a dragon. “He’s the one with black stripes over his eyes, and black spots under his eyes.” He decided to throw that last bit in, just in case she had forgotten. And because it made him feel a little more special for having a dragon with such special markings.

[ravenmane]

HA!!!!!! Squee screeched at Athol as the salamandyr stole one of the blue fire-lizard's precious trinkets. Athol snarled at the annoying blue 'mandyr and launched himself at the creature. That was his and no one else's!! The flit chased Squee around the room while the wily blue 'mandyr continued to screech rude remarks at Athol. P'nor watched the shenanigans quietly, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the two. Athol and Squee were determined to kill each other somehow because of the well-known feud between salamandyrs and fire-lizards. The Bronzerider eyed Squee for a moment as he thought about which blue monster he would keep. Both had their obvious faults like Athol was a nosy little fire-lizard and Squee was a pink-obsessed, territorial, dragon/wher/fire-lizard-hater, and the most vocal salamandyr P'nor had ever met, but he loved them both.

Maybe you should go to the Hatching Feast to escape this nightmare. Cyanth rumbled quietly as he observed the chaos occurring in his rider's weyr. Yes, I think I will. It would be better then watching these two wreak havoc in my weyr. P'nor heaved himself off his couch and strode over to where he kept his clothes. As he pulled out his formal attire, both Athol and Squee came over to find out what was going on. Food? The white-spotted blue 'mandyr scurried up P'nor's side to peer at the clothes from the man's arm. "I'm going to the Hatching Feast, Squee, and you aren't coming." The creature glared at the Bronzerider from where he clung. No. Come. Food. His voice was stubborn, and his tone told P'nor everything he needed to know. Squee was coming if he liked it or not. Not to be left out, Athol landed neatly on P'nor's shoulder and chirped expectantly. "Whatever, you two."

P"nor sighed and quickly pulled on the clothes he had chosen to wear. As he was finishing, the large bell beside the Main Hall began to ring, and P'nor strode out to where Cyanth crouched expectantly. Ready, Mine? Yes, Cy, I am, but the two monsters have declared that they must come too. Oh no. Oh no is right, my friend. Food! P'nor glared at the salamandyr at his shoulder before mounting Cyanth. The Bronze launched himself into the air, and he quickly blinked between. When Cyanth arrived over the Main Hall, P'nor could see many people already coming. Seems that we're on time. Yes, it seems so, Cyanth landed with a thud, I am going to sun while you stuff your face. P"nor shot a glare at the beast as he dismounted. I will be stuffing the faces of Squee and AThol and hoping to get at least a bite for myself. Cyanth rumbled with laughter as he trotted away to a nearby spot to sun.

P"nor entered the Main Hall while grumblinged under his breath. Squee was trying to imitate Cyanth's deep laugh and was only succeeding in making himself sound sick. Athol on the other hand had launched himself off of P'nor's shoulder and was trying to find someone to make friends with. Silently hoping that the fire-lizard would come back, P'nor watched as his hopes were dashed as Athol alighted on a young woman's shoulder. As he approached, P'nor could feel annoyance welling up. Athol had decided to befriend the newest Goldrider of Selenitas, Savitri. "Please excuse him, Miss. Athol believes that everyone is his personal perch. I'm P'nor of Bronze Cyanth by the way." Squee chirped irritably when he wasn't introduced. "And this monster is Squee."

[Tashe]

Smoothing out the folds in her dress, the young Woman spun around slowly in front of her wardrobe mirror, inspecting the fall of the dress on her body. It was a lovely amethyst color, and she was lucky to still have it, it was one of the few things that survived her escape from Benden. The dress fell just short of her knees and it's sleeves entirely covered her arms, both of which she was grateful, long dresses annoyed her and she would rather not have to see the bandages on her arms. The Weyrwoman's burns had healed but the silvery scars were not exactly pretty things to look at, they weren't ugly, but they brought her nightmares. Tying the ribbon that went around her waist, Kaegan gave a hearty sigh before turning to her Flitter and dozing Salamandyr. "Well. What do you think boys?" -'utiful. Pretty, buutiful.- Giggling slightly as Dash put in his drowsy two cents, the Goldrider offered her hand to the large Bronze Firelizard as he too trilled happily at her appearance. "You two spoil me. Lets go my handsome one, the Little is to small to go with us." The material of her dress plumed as Kaegan spun around, floating around her apartment as she made sure that everything was in order, the Queenrider soon made her way out the archway that lead to her Landing Ledge. Mounting her Dragon carefully so as not to snag her dress on the riding straps, Kaegan gave her Queen a nudge when she was ready. /To bad that Man of yours couldn't come. You might have had some one to talk to.../ Oh be quiet you big meanie. /Hah./

It only took a few moments to get to the Gather Hall, but it took twice as long to build up enough courage to enter it. It was Azaran who finally made the decision to enter, he wasn't about to miss being fed if he could help it, and the many pictures that ran through her mind forced her to see his point. Clutching at the edges of her sleeves, the red haired woman stepped into the brilliant light of the Feast. Not stopping to chat with anyone, Kaegan silently made her way up to the Leader's table and procured her seat. Unfortunately she was the first of the Weyrleaders to be there, leaving herself utterly alone at the table, save for the company of her Bronze Flitter. /Breathe Kaeganmine. You'll be okay./

[ryanne]

Liassa looked adoringly down at her beautiful green. She couldn't be happier if she had Impressed all the dragons on Pern. Her Tiaeth was perfect and none other could compare. Of course, the little one was asleep, curled up next to her on the stone couch. She refused to go to sleep, however, until Hers had laid beside her, sharing the warmth. Liassa had tried to convince her to drift off on her own so that she could get ready for the Feast, but her Tiaeth would hear nothing of it. She kept saying that she needed Hers for warmth. In the end, Liassa acquiesed. How could she say no?

So it took another candlemark before she could unwrap herself from the sleeping green and hurry to get ready. She pulled on a simple purple dress that her mother had rummaged from the weyr castoffs for her a turn ago. It fit perfectly and as long as she didn't twirl too much, the repair job on the ripped bottom seam didn't show. Liassa loved the dress, no matter where it had come from. She thought that the color showed off the tan skin that she always managed to have. It seemed her love of the sun was always clearly displayed on her skin. She was proud of it.

Twisting her braided hair into a quick bun, she allowed a few wisps to curl in front of her face. Overall, she thought she did a rather good job for only having a few moments to prepare herself. With one last fond look at her mindmate, she took off, surprised when Lock followed her. He almost never left the room unless she made him. KeykeykeyfeastkeykeyMinekeykey, he murmured, obviously a little jealous about the new addition to their family. Liassa laughed and motioned for him to take a prominent position on her shoulder. If he wanted to come, she wouldn't object.

A short boat ride brought her to the Dining Hall. And another couple deep breaths gave her the courage to enter. Looking around for some friendly faces, it took a while before she spotted Savitri. She was obviously getting swarmed by males and their bondeds. It seemed she wasn't the only one with a smaller counterpart that decided the Feast would be fun. Thinking she could be of some aid to the newest goldrider, especially since she knew the girl wouldn't like a lot of nonsensical jabberings from rankseeking males, she made her way to the food, resolving to help her friend out.

Gathering her food quickly, she turned to the table, briskly making her way to a seat beside her friend. "Congratulations Savitri," she commented before turning to the new brownrider, "And you as well. It's M'ritz now, right?" Liassa had made sure to keep up with all the names of Impressions. It kept everything in order for her. She smiled at her friend, hoping that she wasn't butting in where she wasn't needed. She knew, though, that if she had Impressed and gained rank so quickly, she'd want a friendly face nearby. Hopefully, Savitri considered her that.

[mashiara]

M’kier was not one to fuss over clothing; appearance in general was a secondary concern to the amber eyed young man. However a Hatching Feast was nothing to thumb your nose at and for the occasion M’kier dug through his trunk to find the one set of clothing not bearing some signs of burns, stains, or recently stitched holes. Nothing too fancy, the dark reddish brown shirt was light weight with long wide sleeves that laced with simple string. Simple if sturdy tan pants and his good leather boots made up the rest. A little worn but comfortable and presentable, as usual with M’kier wrinkles gave the impression that maybe he’d slept in the clothes. Well, even with wrinkles he was dressed better than usual. The young man had even taken the time to brush his long raven hair and pull it back in a ponytail at the nap of his neck-though his long bangs continued to block much of his vision.

As he’d gotten ready Splotch had chattered and chattered with the nagging urgency of a woman eager to show off her man. The flit had observed Tepidoth from a distance, getting close enough to croon at the blue before popping between. Now that the little blue had a full belly and was sleeping Splotch had bravely attempted to finish the dragons scraps-only stopping his eating when it became clear no one was harassing M’kier. Which was how the young man had the pleasure of walking into the Feast with a brown dragonet on his shoulder occasionally nipping his ear or chattering instructions to it.

Despite the comical sight on his shoulder and the welcomed sight of food M’kiers expression was its usual blandness. Tepidoth was sleeping off his meal leaving a slumbering presence in the back of his riders mind. M’kier was not an emotional man and he seemed to be making up for the burst of joy on the sands by being extra stony now that his beast slept.

Waving away Splotch the new weyrling found a table not yet crowded and plopped himself down. He was not much for grand social gatherings…he had a habit of stepping wrong with people (and if Aslath was any example dragons as well…) besides it was impractical. Though as M’kier turned those amber eyes toward the food his opinion of the Hatching Feast improved a good bit. After all the young smith was a man not a machine and what man could stare at a table full of bubblypies and NOT look forward to eating?

[Administrator]

As she was smoothing out her dress, Shmee paused at S'rei's question. One eyebrow cocked, and she smiled a little at him. Not realizing that Salenth had answered his question, she replied, "It's the Hatching Feast." How funny, how warm she felt inside when he said our daughter. It wasn't a mine or yours, like it had been these past months, and S'rei's love for Shei was simply adorable. And the look he had, it seemed so natural, and he had the same smile that she remembered. And he had just woken up, and it seemed he still had that problem he had after just waking up. He was so slow at times, and Shmee had forgotten just how cute it was. "You can hold Shei through dinner if you want," she told him gently. She certainly wouldn't deprive him any longer of time with their little babe. She had deprived him enough since that bad night. Even after the Touching, she didn't give him all that much time with Shei. But now, she was making sure that he could make up the lost time.

Merely chuckling at his-- was it concern?-- she nodded as she waved her arm in dismissal. "Of course it is. Everyone will be happy for us, and Ka'rys won't care, believe me. I hate him and he hates me. I think he's just doing this as a formality..." She rolled her eyes. "Besides. I can't think of a reason why this would cause problems. Everyone in the Weyr knows you're my weyrmate." Or, at least, that they used to be weyrmates... But wouldn't people be glad that they had reconciled? Of course it would. The only person who would be soured was Ka'rys, but that man could care less about being a Weyrleader. He had done so little since getting the title. She was all in favor of impeaching him! Approaching him again, she pressed her lips against him gently. But this kiss was brief; when she withdrew, she smiled a little. "Try not to worry that much, love. This will be just fine." She paused, and she bit her lip a little. "For the promotions... Since I didn't know you would be back... You kinda... aren't a Wingleader." Looking at him helplessly, she glanced through her hide again. "I couldn't make that big a change at such a last minute. I managed to rearrange things enough to put you in as a wingsecond, but I don't want you to be surprised when it happens..." She rubbed his arm apologetically. "I'm really sorry. But... you can boss around the Wingleader, if you want," she told him helpfully.

Tugging his sleeve, she lead him out to the weyrledge where Aslath was waiting. She had eaten a couple herdbeasts and had slept all afternoon, so her mood had improved quite a bit. So you are still good? No arguments since he came here?[/color] she asked sleepily.

That's right, Shmee replied happily. Aslath snorted as Shmee climbed on. Extending her hands to hold the babe while S'rei got on, she quickly handed her back to S'rei. She would let him hold Shei for a while, she thought happily.

"I think, at the next gather, we should get an artist to do a family portrait of us," she told him thoughtfully as Aslath pushed herself up into the air above the river. "You, me, and Shei. It would be cute, and then we'd have a true picture of us so that we can always remember it. Can we do it?" she asked cheerfully as Aslath gracefully took them to the top of the waterfall. Gliding over to the Main Hall, she didn't let him say a word as she tugged his sleeve again, excitedly leading him into the Main Hall. She could smell the delicious food! Pulling him in, she sat down right beside Kaegan, ushering S'rei beside her. However, she spared only a small smile for the girl before turning her full attention to S'rei. "I could pay for it," she added cheerfully.

[kysseh]

As tired and engrossed as she was in getting settled out of harm's way and within reach of energy-providing food, Savitri had failed to realize that she was sitting across from a startled-looking little boy. He looked familiar, and after a moment, it dawned on her that he was one of the new weyrlings, someone who had Impressed early on in the Hatching. She was not sure if she had the energy to talk, but the looks he was giving her and her wounded body gave the distinct impression that he had something to say... or to ask. Picking up a piece of fruit in her good hand, she opened her mouth to inquire what it was he wanted to say so he could just say it, snapping her jaws shut almost immediately when he promptly blurted out her name and supposed new rank.

Stunned into silence that he should know her, she was not quite sure how to respond as he continued to introduce himself. It was the smile on his face as he spoke of his dragon that finally allowed the connections in her tired mind to started sending signals, and she allowed him a cautious, and rather tired, smile. "I'm just a weyrling, not a rider. But... yes, I'm Savitri. Nice to meet you, M'ritz of brown Origoth," she replied, her smile softening a bit as she was reminded of her little siblings back home. Poor boy looked so tiny, even smaller than her less-than-impressive stature. He was probably just a bit intimidated in more ways than one.

"I'm sure we'll be seeing each other plenty at weyrling lessons," she said truthfully, moving the fruit closer to her mouth to take a bite and promptly finding her arm movements hampered by a weight on her shoulder. She sighed in frustration. Couldn't a girl get a bite to eat in peace around here?! Her annoyance was only slightly lessened when she saw that her new 'friend' was a blue firelizard, and she fervently wished Shadow would wake up and pop out of between to chase the little bugger off. Under normal circumstances, she would have been far more patient, but as it was, she was tired and weak from blood loss, and the sharding flit was making it difficult to eat. "I don't have any meat, you know," she told the creature, although it seemed to be of little use.

His owner appeared, and Savitri was less than gratified to learn that the owner was a bronzerider. The very thought of that made her bristle, though she tried not to react outwardly. At least he did not know who she was too, or she had a feeling he would not leave. "He seems to be a very headstrong pet, bronzerider P'nor," was about all the polite response she could manage in her frustration and exhaustion before she lifted her arm, heedless of the weight, to take a bite of food. Shards but it tasted good! That one bite of sweet, juicy fruit rejuvenated her despite the fact that she had just barely swallowed. Maybe it was just the thought of it that counted, but it made her thinking a little clearer, at the very least.

Turning a slightly more alert gaze back to M'ritz in an attempt to better that conversation, she was pleasantly distracted by a whirl of purple as Liassa plopped herself down in the next seat over. Finally! This was a familiar and very welcome face, and the weyrling managed her first genuine smile of the evening for her friend. "Thank you, Liassa. And congratulations to you as well. Hepaticath told me she wished to meet with Tiaeth again soon sometime," she replied, remembering the gold's insistence on that fact earlier. Actually, Hepaticath had expressed a desire to meet with Risith as well to inform him that further harming of Hers would be severely dealt with, but her desire to greet Tiaeth was based far more out of friendliness. "This is M'ritz of Origoth, and P'nor of Cyanth... as well as P'nor's two little monsters." She spared a warning look for the creature occupying her shoulder. She did need that appendage back, after all, since that shoulder was attached to her only good arm.

[rynnti]

The little weyrling smiled warmly as Savitri answered him, happy to see her own smile softening. He took another, much more manageable bite of the wherry. M’ritz was so glad that Savitri was being so nice to him. It meant that he might have a new friend. Well, he already did have a new friend, but Origoth was kind of higher up than just a friend. Smiling back at Savitri, M’ritz tilted his head just slightly as a blue flitter landed on her shoulder. He was about to ask her what her pet’s name was, but the other weyrling’s sigh of frustration was enough to inform M’ritz that the newest arrival to the table did not belong to Savitri. He briefly wondered if he should try to help shoo the flitter away, but firmly decided that there was no way he could get the whole way across the table without going through all of his food, all of Savitri’s food, and quite possibly Savitri’s bad arm. That probably wasn’t the best way to remain on good terms with the girl he had already deemed his friend. M’ritz bit his lower lip as he tried to figure out another way to chase off the little blue pest. Clearly Savitri didn’t like and, since he was looking up to her like an older sister, he didn’t like it either. Making sure he had swallowed all of the chewed up wherry in his mouth, M’ritz blew a long stream of air at the firelizard. He had come to the conclusion that making it uncomfortable would make it leave. After two or three blows, M’ritz realized that his plan wasn’t working. “I thought that might have scared him off,” he offered to Savitri with a shrug.

As P’nor approached the table, M’ritz began to feel more than a little bit intimidated. He had felt small compared to Savitri. But P’nor? The man was full-grown, muscular, and tall. As someone who had just begun puberty, was very scrawny, and very short, M’ritz felt like a mere Holdbrat in comparison. He didn’t think he’d ever get that…mature-looking. The brownweyrling dealt with this intimidating figure the best way he could: he simply ignored him. He bit off more of the delicious wherry meat, a small smile coming to his face as he enjoyed its flavor. He had never had food this ridiculously tasty at Blossom Hold. He hadn’t even seen some of the kinds of fruit he had shoveled onto his plate. M’ritz’s self esteem grew as Savitri turned away from the bronzerider to talk to him again. Feeling the need to thank her in some way, he turned his plate so that the meat was facing her. “Do you want some of my wherry? You’re really missing out by not having any,” the weyrling smiled sweetly. He was getting really good at this whole being generous thing. He wished he had just offered the wherry instead of turning his whole plate around as the smell wafted back over to his nose. Not wanting to revoke his offer, he grabbed one of the mystery fruits instead.

He bit into it, savoring its delightfully sweet juice. Now that was a good fruit. He looked up as another girl clad in a pretty purple dress, sat down next to Savitri. He knew her name! Maybe. “Li…Li…Lia…Lianna…Lialla…Liarra?” He began mouthing to himself. He was going to get her name. He had the beginning down… Shards! She knew his name! “You too, Lia!” Hopefully she wouldn’t find his newly invented nickname. He sighed, a little out of disappointment, as Savitri managed to actually use the girl’s name. It was Liassa. He had been so close, too! “Can I call you Lia?” he asked after Savitri had gone over all of the official introductions. M’ritz pulled his feet out of his sandals and tucked his legs underneath him. At least now, sitting on his knees, he was about the height of Savitri and Liassa. “I couldn’t remember the second half of your name,” he admitted. As he was hanging his head down in apology, he remembered the delicious mystery fruit and took another bite from it. His former youthful smile slowly reappeared. “What kind of fruit is this?” He asked out loud, to nobody in particular. At least one of the three others had to know.

[reqqy]

S’rei cocked his head to one side inquisitively. “You hate each other, huh?” The question didn’t really need an answer. He simply hadn’t been aware that their negative feelings were that strong, as he’d assumed that the two likely didn’t care one way or another. That was the usual way of things. The bronzerider hadn’t yet come into contact with Ka’rys directly since his return. He remembered the man as rather withdrawn, but an excellent wingrider. It was odd, in a way. Ciceroth hadn’t chased Aslath the first time around. Almost made him wonder if the Fort transfer had seen an opening and taken advantage of it…Though not much had been changed, from what he could see. S’rei was naturally wary of any dragonrider who came from Fort, for the simple reason that he had more or less sold them out, and most remembered. Still, he could see how someone might dislike Shmee. If he didn’t love the girl, he would have throttled her long ago. The thought made him glance sneakily at his weyrmate, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

That was when she decided to kiss him. He almost felt bad for thinking those thoughts of her. Almost. Anyone who knew Shmee had to agree that she was capable of driving anyone over the brink. S’rei was simply graced with the other side of her, when she let go of the posturing and relaxed all that emotional upheaval that seemed to be constantly whirling in her belly. This Shmee. He didn’t take her into his arms because of Shei, whom was protected by the inward curve of his chest as the Weyrwoman pressed close.

Her halting apology caused S’rei’s grays to dance with amusement. Shards, he didn’t care about being a wingleader or not! Faranth knows, it just felt nice to be with his family and not have to worry about everything else for once. Oh, psht. “Wingsecond?” He let out a theatrical sigh. “You really don’t intend to allow me to simply enjoy my weyrmate, do you, Weyrwoman? I’ll just sic her on you when she gets lonely.” The humor was a mask for a separate concern. S’rei didn’t want to play the posturing game, and he certainly wasn’t about to boss around whoever he ended up serving under. If he made it clear where the authority lay, he wouldn’t have to worry about the confusion in the wing that would undoubtedly result if authority was split.

Salenth was unusually silent, though the quiet was a restive quiet. S’rei wasn’t completely paying attention as Aslath ferried him and his family to the Main Hall for the feast. What’s wrong? I haven’t heard anything out of you but a single mild scolding. That isn’t like you. There was a tentativeness in the quality of the pause. This only intrigued the bronzerider all the more. You’ve got Aslath’s now. I’m happy for you. Really, I am. I just…at least before, when I was alone, I was alone with you. There are other dragons in this weyr. Salenth needed no clarification on which one he was referring to. I can’t. We were comfortable as weyrmates, and I’d like to be that way again, but that won’t happen if I turn my attention elsewhere. It was the first time Salenth had admitted anything more than a slightly closer bond with Aslath. I meant simply as a companion. What of Styth? Reysalth? Hiriarth? Yes, maybe that’s what I’ll do… came Salenth’s glum response.

The conversation might have continued, but Aslath had just arrived at the Main Hall and S’rei was being swept along by Shmee, Shei still cradled carefully against his chest. He blinked at her, lost for a moment. She’d pay for what? Oh. Yes. That family portrait she wanted done. Hadn’t she mentioned that a moment ago during his distraction? It was a good idea, he supposed. S’rei really wasn’t big on spending marks on anything that wasn’t an absolute necessity, but…he could always make an exception in this case. It would just be nice to see her pleased smile.

“We can get it,” he stated, balancing Shei as he let his hand fall on the Weyrwoman’s head, “but I’m not completely broke; I’ll pay for it.” Looking over head and hand, he smiled at the junior weyrwoman. A younger S’rei would have been uncomfortable around all these ‘higher-ups’ that he was no longer a part of, but that was merely looking at the title, and not the person. Kaegan was probably more nervous than he’d ever been, knowing her. And of course Shmee was his. R’non, too, would hardly give S’rei a moment’s pause. Ka’rys was the unknown. Without him here, the bronzerider was completely at ease. “Kaegan,” he greeted warmly. “Selenitas suits you well; you’re ravishing tonight. I’d be worried for my nephew if he were a decade older – the poor lad wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Meanwhile, Salenth had levered himself up over the weyr, spiraling loosely a fair distance above the gathering weyrfolk and riders. Aslath, he began, respect in his tone despite the familiarity of simply using her name. . Would you object if I joined you? A strange nervousness had come over him, making the words seem younger than they were.

[Kisha-Ra]

Idith blinked sleepily as he watched R’aro change into his gather day best. The powerful hatchling was clearly fighting a losing battle with fatigue and a full belly and his head kept drooping almost down to his forepaws before he jerked it up again to watch his bonded.

R’aro combed his hair and tied it back to look like he’d made an effort, he was wondering wheather his current growth of facial hair warranted a shave or not when he caught sight of his nodding dragon in the reflection and laughed. Idith, go to sleep. You’re tired. He instructed without looking around. Idith hadn’t yet worked out that R’aro could see him in the mirror so didn’t bother to hide his guilty jump. I am not.[/color] He objected then grumbled as R’aro started laughing again.

‘You are. Stop being stubborn.’ R’aro said out loud and wondered why it was that he could scold a dragon like a child and expect him to obey. ‘I’m going to the feast now anyway, you won’t notice how long I’m gone while you sleep.’ Idith grumbled some more as he settled himself more comfortably and sighed. Alright, but only because you won’t stay and adore me, I shall just have to live on the little love the tiny greens can give me[/color]

Idith, was that a joke? R’aro asked, surprised, but Idith didn’t reply, the bronze was fast asleep with his head hanging off the edge of his couch and green flitters settling themselves for sleeping around him. R’aro shrugged and slipped out of the room.

The hall was filling up already but R’aro headed straight for the food and piled his plate with wherry slices, as spiced wherry was one of his favourite foods, and a token amount of vegetables and looked for somewhere to sit down.


Roshya examined the food choices available and self-consciously smoothed the fabric of her skirt with one hand. She wasn’t certain about the skirt if she was totally honest, it was a dark brown shade cleverly shot through with strands of copper thread, which was why it had caught her eye in the first place, but it was much less convenient than trousers and she worried that it made her look like she was trying to be someone else. It also probably looked quite odd worn with her best shirt, which was plain green and slightly tighter than it had been when she’d bought it.

Noticing what she was doing Roshya snatched her hand back from her clothing and helped herself to small portions of whatever things smelled good and could be eaten with her fingers, she was too hungry to bother with table manners and cutlery. She looked around for somewhere to sit, noting that the new goldweyrling, whatever her name was, had attracted quite a few people. Roshya wasn’t a fan of having people watch her eat or having suck ups anywhere near her, and people would suck up to even a weyrling goldrider, so she went for a different table, sat down and started eating with no real interest in those around her.

[Tashe]

/So. It's settled then... I get a bath tomorrow, and an oiling in the itchy spot tonight./ Yes, that's what I said. /Just making sure Mine. Oh... Aslath is arriving. Shmee and S'rei will be there soon, so you'll be less awkward./ Thanks Millieth. Good to know I look really awkward up here. /You are welcome./ Sighing heavily as she covered her face with her hands, Kaegan groaned to herself, letting out some steam that was building up. It had been a while since she had openly put herself in a situation that showed herself to be an actual Weyrwoman, and sitting at the Leader's table was probably one of the more displaying things she could do. Looking up from her hands to see the Senior Weyrwoman and the previous Weyrleader enter, the younger Goldrider smiled feebly at the two as they passed by, only then noticing that they had their child with them. Giving Shmee another small smile as they sat down next to her, Kaegan rubbed Azaran's wing before realizing S'rei was speaking to her. "O-oh! Hello S'rei. Thank you very much... My uh... friend picked it out for me. You both look really nice too." Tugging nervously at the napkin in her lap, the Queenrider chuckled lightly at the Bronzerider's other comment. "I-its a good thing he isn't then."

--

"Come on you two. You both are old enough to get here without me hassling you. You are Seniors for goodness sake." Positioning himself in the Archway of his cousin's apartment, the Wingsecond waited impatiently as the two women got their last minute accessories on. In fact, the only reason he had come over was that Styth had reported neither of the girls had left their living quarters. Rolling his eyes as he exited the room, F'rah added a yawn to his expression, eventually making his way to his awaiting Brown. /They are young Women... well. At least Gina is.../ Laughing, he waited until he could see the two Weyrlings on the Landing perch before nudging Styth mentally, signaling he was ready to leave. Leaning forward as his Brown launched himself into the canyon, the Weyrlingmaster gave his Dragon a pat on an exposed patch of hide. /You've been a lot quieter lately./ Well... I haven't been able to see Laurie a whole lot recently. /Oh yes... I should have guessed that was the problem. She should be at the Hatching feast tonight... I just don't like to see you so down Rahmine./ Don't worry, I'm fine Styth.

Dismounting from the Brown's back as they arrived at the Main Hall, F'rah gave the Dragon another pat before heading up the stairs to the Feasting hall. He had been to many Feasts before, so the sights and smells didn't over whelm him as they did for the first few as a Weyrling and young rider. Scanning the hall's inhabitants for a moment before making his way into the throng of the increasing crowd, F'rah slowly made his way to an open table.

[ricil]

Ricil had spent most of the day spending extra effort on her appearance, which meant more than running her fingers through her short brunette locks, she actually took a comb to them for once. She was too disappointed in her ruddy complexion and too-round face to realize the healthy sheen her curls had taken on under her ministrations, though, so no good was accomplished in her mind. At least she could safely say she tried.

She was dressed in her best creation, a short-sleeved cobalt blue v-necked gown with a high waist and an uneven skirt, creating a flowing motion that existed mostly in illusion. It brushed the backs of her knees as she walked hesitantly towards the feasting hall, awed by a brown dragon that had landed there.

Dragons held a mysterious beauty to them, and it was all the more apparent when she looked at their multifaceted eyes. With a respectful nod she felt she owed the winged creature, whether he saw it or not, she walked past him, into the hall.

Her stomach growled hungrily as the smell of food hit her nostrils, and she immediately went to the tables, helping herself to anything that caught her eye. She wound up with a decent amount of food as she walked to the nearest table, eager to sit down and eat. She sat down and happily began enjoying her meal. That was another good thing about the Weyr over the Holds - lots of important people meant good food!