Fort Weyr - Tunnel
This tunnel has a gentle upward slope that leads the way in or out of the weyr. The smooth walls are softly illuminated by the lights strung overhead, and the stone has been etched with images of tithe trains, dragons, riders, and weyrfolk who almost seem to be moving along with you through the tunnel. The tunnel beings to widen up ahead, echoing voices and pleasant laughter.

As the season begins to drift into autumn, it brings with it rain, turning the weyr once more into pools of mud. The storm that blows through the area right now is not a powerful one, but it's enough to send most folks scurrying for cover, and dragons test the unpredictable winds with caution. It was a bad day to set out to ride to the weyr, yet Ezra did it in the morning when the sky was clear. Now, in the afternoon, he plods into the tunnel to the weyr with his soggy runner, the sturdy little beast plodding forward doggedly until Ezra pulls her to a stop. Swinging off to dismount, the young heir shakes out his jacket and shivers with a little frown, chatting for a moment with the two guards on duty. He seems in no hurry to continue in the rain, just standing and watching it for the moment, a gloved hand rubbing the mare's neck as he watches.

Mud has gained a foothold, or at least it feels that way, upon the pants of the teenager who comes plodding into the tunnel next. Rain has slicked down his dark hair, and his shoulders show signs that they have been out for a bit, though there are spots which remain dry, having been tucked out of the wind. As Hazelon ducks inside he pauses, just outside of the wind, to run a hand through his hair and perhaps persuade some of the water to find another place to be.

Ezra and the guards both turn, and though the guards simply give him a quick glance (Fort knot, we recognize him) and turn back, Ezra's gaze lingers for a moment, a little smile pulling at his lips. "Not the best day for travel, huh?" he asks, gently nudging the mare out of the middle of the tunnel incase the teen wants to walk past.

Though tangles of wet hair Hazelon looks up, brushing it quickly out of his direct gazing sight. This leads to a rather awkwardly wet bump to one side of his head. "It is not." He'll agree with the young man before him, before glancing down at the mud streaking his pants. "Hopin' I don't have to be goin' out again."

Ezra nods with a deep breath, chuckling as he peers through the tunnel, watching as the rain picks up and comes down in sheets. With a sigh, he moves to the edge of the tunnel to sit on a stone bench, letting the mare stand where she is. "What were you doing out? Any chance you'll get the rest of the day off?" he asks, searching for a knot on the teen's shoulder, while he pushes the hood of his coat back and runs fingers absently through his hair.

The briefest of smiles ghosts across Hazelon's face as his gaze follows Ezra's back out into the downpour. As he moves though, he'll snap his attention back, and step foward, careful to avoid the backend of the mare. "Things to be delivered," the teen says with a small shrug, "and no. I doubt it." Having rushed out without a coat, Hazelon's knot should be an easy enough read- he's attached to the weyr proper, working in the lower caverns.

Ezra clicks his tongue. "Shame. Sorry about that," he says, and he at least sounds sincere. Pulling off a glove, he offers a slightly damp hand to the other teen. "I'm Ezra, of Stonehaven."

There is a long moment of hesitation. Hazelon's eyes sweep up and down the young man as if abruptly seeing him in a different light then he had just moments before. The moment passes, and after attempting to dry off his hand, Hazelong extends his also to take his hand in a slightly weak grip. "Hazelon."

Ezra tilts his head at the scrutiny of the other, a little smile pulling at his lips. He's used to it by now, the moment he mentions Stonehaven. "Been around Fort for a while then, huh?" he guesses, squeezing Hazelon's hand despite the other teen's weak grip. Then he lets it go and pulls his glove back on again, flexing his fingers. "Well met, Hazelon."

"A few years." Is his rather faint reply, as he draws his hand back and puts it rather awkwardly into his pocket. More awkward silence for the Stonehaven heir is delivered until the wind shifts just enough to blow a gust upwards and into the tunnel opening. Hazelon shivers and diverts his attention away, stepping slightly further into the tunnel.

Ezra watches the other teen for a moment, then nods, and looks out at the pouring rain. Silence descends, and then he tries another attempt at conversation. "Where were you before you got to the weyr?" That's a safe topic, right?

Yeah, no. Hazelon's attention moves back to the Stonehaven heir and he flounders for an answer to what really should be a simple question. He bites his lip just slightly, as he looks at Ezra, but not in the eye. "We traveled a bit." His answer is purposefully vague.

Ezra ohs. The teen lapses into silence again, gloved hands lacing fingers together as he turns to look out at the rain. "Glad for this rain." Weather? Is weather safe? "It'll be good, give all the fields a nice long drink for the last harvest in a few months…"

It has been a long time since someone accused Hazelon of being easy to hold a conversation down with, and this seems to be boding just about the same. "Oh, um, aye. Makes it hard to travel um," he's grasping at straws now, "Was it difficult?"

Ezra glances at the mare, then back at Hazelon. "What, traveling? Not too bad, I picked some good runners for Stonehaven. They're not flashy but they're sturdy. A bit of mud and rain wasn't a problem. I was the miserable one, but I figure I can't ask for a dragon transport every time I want to come to the weyr. You know?"

"Right, yeah, of course." Hazelon allows the conversation to slip again, and runs a hand through his hair again. As it hits the bump created by his earlier work he smooths it quickly, looking back at the runner behind him. "Well, good to know it went easy enough."

Ezra nods, fiddling a bit with his gloves again. "Yeah." He turns again to look out at the rain.

"Well, was nice to meet you, I'll just," He waves in the general direction of back up the tunnel a bit, even though Ezra is not looking at him at all. He might even nod in an almost friendly manner, before turning to trudge upwards into the weyr proper.

Ezra turns to look back at the teen, lifting a hand to wave. "Right. Well met," he calls after him, a puzzled look on his face. Well. That was awkward.