Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

Summer is giving way to autumn now and all day the skies above the Weyr have been heavy with the steady patter of rain. The living cavern remains surprisingly empty for the early afternoon hour, with most weyrfolk still busy with their tasks and duties. Those that are present are either going about some work in preparation for the dinner hour or the small few whose business has brought them here. Th'ero has chosen one of the tables by the hearths where a small fire has been laid and is burning steadily and brightly. No doubt to add some warmth, as the Weyrleader's jacket looks soaked from where it is draped over a chair to dry out. The thick tunic he wears looks to be spared most of the damage though, but his pants and boots are damp and the leathers spattered with mud. What/ has he been up to? The table in front of him is littered with papers again and surprisingly they are dry and safe. Resting on top of one packet of papers is a small box wrapped with twine. Th'ero is focused on a sheet of paper in his hand, frown knitting his brows, lost to his own thoughts where he sits with his back to the wall and the fire at his side.

Kimmila, still susceptible to sickness from her fever, has been doing things indoors today. Passing cothold sweeps off to another rider, the bluerider has spent the day catching up on some reports, writing letters and maybe taking a nap. So when she enters the caverns it's from the lower entrance, and she is clean and dry as she goes to the food tables to get something to eat. Klah, of course, and then she selects a sandwich which, despite the bread being a little stale, will do her just fine. Some fruit, and a little slice of cake (cake?) and the bluerider is looking for a spot to sit. It's then, finally, that she notices the Weyrleader and with an arched brow, she heads in his direction. "Mind?" she asks, before she assumes the answer will be 'no, not at all, wingmate, please join me' and sits down.

There's cake!? Not that Th'ero would eat it (unless it's citrus or fruit based). Only the Weyrleader would camp out in the living caverns and not grab a single bite or drop of liquid to drink. He doesn't even have any wine or ale with him. Just the letters and that little box. Lowering the paper, he picks up a few more and skims through them, only to glance up as Kimmila approaches and greets him with the question. Which she gets no answer to, save for a gesture of his hand to the empty seat. Help yourself. He turns in his chair then, his side now to her as he leans forwards towards the fire. Cold? Nope. He's going to burn things — namely the letters he's holding. And never mind he is doing it in plain sight in the caverns! Reaching out, the edges begin to smoke and then catch as the flames lick at the paper and when it crawls too close to his fingers he'll chuck the rest into the fire. Straightening again, he faces forwards to the table and grimaces as his hands rest briefly against his damp clothing. Ugh. Nose wrinkles and then he reaches for more of the paperwork. No explanation either, though without lifting his eyes he asks, "Day is going well?" in a flat and distracted tone.

Kimmila frowns at her weyrmate at the sight of him, and she shakes her head. "What is it?" she asks quietly, noticing all those little red flags that add up to something larger. "You're going to catch a fever," she says pointedly of his damp clothing, frown deepening. Stubborn man! She ignores his question to her for the moment, hands curled around her klah mug and taking a sip.

"Business," Th'ero replies, voice drawled and accented in a way that usually signals that his temper has been stirred enough that he's annoyed and frustrated. Fingers flip back a few more papers and he swiftly sets some of them aside. The rest? Are burned. At least he's being tidy and not littering? The Weyrleader's hands pause then and lower to the table as he leans back, head lifting to regard her with just as pointed a look. "I'm indoors and by a fire," he murmurs, "I may be a bit damp," And covered in mud. "But I am warm. I won't catch a fever and I'm being careful." Famous last words. 'Being careful' must mean not eating and drinking too. Stubborn, stubborn man indeed! Her ignoring his question does not go unnoticed and Th'ero gives her a long look before his mouth curves into a twisted smirk. "That dull of a day, then?" he drawls again.

Kimmila snorts, pushing her plate forward. Look, fruit! EAT it. "Got some of my own work done, though I can't say I burned anything," she says, watching him do just that with curious interest. "Anything I need to know?" Or anything he wants to vent about?

Fruit! The temptation is there and it flickers in his eyes. Th'ero is hungry but he only lowers his head and dismisses the offer — for now. "Good," he murmurs, flicking through his paperwork again and setting a few more aside. Only one piece to burn this round. "What did you oversee today or work on?" he asks as he straightens again. Anything he needs to know? He snorts then and what papers survived the screening are now rearranged and stacked. "Herdbeast shipment came in from Nabol," he begins, speaking slow and in a lowered voice. Only Kimmila will be able to hear him (and not always clearly) but the caverns remain pretty sparse for people. "Fools tried to house the stock by the beastholds in the stables and when the Guards there ordered them to go into the Weyr, they decided to kick up a fuss about it. Apparently they always leave their shipments there or some such nonsense." he mutters, fingers tapping irritably against some of the papers. No doubt the shipping records and transactions. "So I was called out of course." Which explains his soaked clothing, but not the mud.

Kimmila eyes him. "And…you decided to wrestle with the beasts yourself?" she asks, before snorting. "Idiots. Haven't they heard the news by now? You'd think they wouldn't want to linger there. Is the situation dealt with? Or do I need to get our Beastcrafters out there to handle it?" Then she shrugs. "I had J'evi cover my sweeps for the next few days and I got caught up on cotholder paperwork. Sorting through requests, seeing which trades could be made. I'm trying to encourage them to trade with each other, using weyr transport, rather than always coming to us for supplies. Make them less dependent on us. Save their pride and whatnot. Lots of them never even considered trading with neighbors because it's so hard to travel. So…working on that."

Th'ero's mouth twists into another crooked smirk and he sets the paperwork aside now, resting it beneath that small twined wrapped box. "Oh, I didn't wrestle the herdbeasts," he remarks dryly and his frown deepens to a near scowl as his frustration is roused again. He snorts, "They were supposed to get word at their layover hold about the situation but they claimed nothing was said. The situation is dealt with. The beasts are housed in the proper paddocks within the Weyr and our traders will receive their payment…" And he pauses to shift in his chair, grimacing as he stretches a bit. Is he sore? Or just getting comfortable? "… after they've cooled their heels for a bit in the brig." Just what trouble does he get into when she's working in the weyr? Th'ero is silent and respectful while Kimmila elaborates on her work and by the end his mood has turned curious, if not subtly impressed. "Did you come up with this idea and system all on your own?" he murmurs softly, frowning but only in thought as he mulls over the details in his head.

Kimmila blinks. "In the brig? What happened?" she asks, most curious as to what she missed. Though surely it wasn't too bad, else Velokraeth would've told Varmiroth. Right? Then she nods. "Yeah. Though don't look to impressed, it was mostly for selfish reasons. I got tired of coming here for something, and then accepting that same thing in trade from someone else. Got tired of being the middle man. So…we'll see if it works out. Back to bartering, though the ones that are on board with the idea are the ones that could handle it."

Varmiroth would have been the first to know by Velokraeth if things had been that bad. Which they were not. "Some of the traders got hot headed and short tempered. The autumn rains have been bad this Turn, so I suspect they had some trouble navigating the trails and were just exhausted and wishing to be done with their route." Th'ero murmurs, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms loosely over his chest. "They started to scuffle with the Guards and I stepped in to disarm the situation. Lost my footing and slipped at one point, but all the same it was swiftly dealt with." Sure it was. Th'ero quirks a brow up for her reply, "Why shouldn't I be impressed? It's a great idea and if it takes, the benefits are well worth the effort." He smirks now and his mood lifts enough for him to drawl in an amused tone, "Sometimes the best ideas come from selfishness. Not that I think you are or are being selfish right now. You put in a lot of work for those cotholds." Something he's witnessed first hand! "And I do not blame you for not wanting to be the middleman any longer. I think it stands a chance to work. May take time," As always.

Kimmila blinks and frowns, brows furrowed. "Why didn't you call me?" she asks quietly. Then she shrugs. "We'll see if it works. I'm hopeful. And it's well worth the effort. Keeps me busy and keeps folks from thinking I'm just doing nothing."

"Because it wasn't necessary," Th'ero replies, only to grimace and flinch a bit for how that sounded. Before he begins digging himself a hole, he tries to at least mend some of it by murmuring, "And I did not want you coming out in the rain for nothing. You are you still recovering, after all. It was all settled in the end and to the harm of no one, save for the pride of that trader family. Shards and shells, I thought I'd never hear the end of the apologies from the women," Shaking his head, there is the sound of something being nudged by his feet and it makes a faint crumpling sound. More paper? How many surprises is he looking to spring on Kimmila in one visit to the living caverns. "I am hopeful as well. Wingmate," he stresses, giving her a pointed look. "You know that no one thinks that. And if they do, then they are fools and blind. You do as much work, if not far more than many here do." And he reaches for that plate of fruit, dragging it across the table to his side and hopefully she was finished with it because he is picking through the selection before taking a piece.

Kimmila frowns at his first words only to sigh at his next, resigned. "I know," she mutters, a bit irritably. It's grating on her, this 'recovering', and yet she's afraid - so afraid - of getting sick again. And not for her sake, either. Leaning back a bit, she tries to peek beneath the table when she hears the crumpling. "What's that? And what's that?" she asks, nodding to the package. Then she shrugs. "Who knows. I don't really care, but it helps me feel productive. It's a good project for me." Oh yeah, she was done. And if she wasn't, well. There's more food right over there.

Th'ero frowns at her irritated response and his features soften a bit, one arm reaching forwards in hopes of touching her arm before she moves from his reach. "You know that if it escalated further, I would have had Velokraeth tell Varmiroth." he murmurs, trying to reassure her without being too open about it in public. As she tries to peek beneath the table like a curious child, he can't help but duck his head a bit and chuckle, mouth quirking into a light smile. "That," he nods to the small box, "Is a little gift that was to be for you later." So much for that surprise. The crumpling sound comes again and only because Th'ero is nudging it from out under the table. It slides across the floor, a bag of sorts though clearly not the whole surprise. "And that is part of the apology given by the trader women. Which they would not let me refuse, no matter my protests and I did not like the alternatives. So…" He gestures with his hand for her to take it and open it. "They said you could help yourself to any that were to your preference. Or none." Did he get a share too? "Turns out they trade in more than just herdbeasts." Now he seems to focus more on that plate of fruit. "It's a project only I would trust you with," Th'ero adds between bites of food and then he is looking elsewhere. Is he still sheepish over these things?

The bag is a bit worn but of a sturdy material and a bit of mud is on the side of it from Th'ero's boot but the materials inside are safe and dry. Inside are several folded garments: three dresses, one sweater and several tops all of various styles. Most are casual, but some are closer to semi-formal or even formal. Nothing too flashy either, as the colors are all either shades of blue or off-white.

Kimmila blinks in surprise as the bag is nudged out, and she bends to start pulling things out. "Oh," she says softly, her cheeks coloring slightly. Slowly she looks at each piece, and a few get returned to the bag - not her tastes, it seems. But others she does keep. "This is quite a generous apology," she murmurs.

Th'ero busies himself with cleaning off that plate of fruit while she sorts through the bag, but on occasion his eyes will lift to watch her as she picks her favorites. Is that… relief he tries to hide when she selects a few? "I've learned Traders can be just as generous and odd with their choice of apologies as Holders." he murmurs and once she has finished with the bag, he will tuck it back under the table. No doubt it'll be returned to wherever the traders have housed themselves. "Hopefully now they'll be pleased enough," he drawls, leaning back in his chair and trying not to look too awkward.

Kimmila carefully folds her chosen pieces, still looking rather surprised at her good fortune. She sets them aside and nods, looking awkward herself. "Yeah…" she murmurs, shifting in her seat. "Did you get anything?"

Th'ero will watch as she carefully folds her choices from the bag and he asks softly, "It's not too much?" As if he's concerned that the not-quite-a-gift is not enough or unacceptable. Is it good fortune? The Weyrleader only came upon it after having to break up an embarrassing scuffle of the trader men and Weyr Guard. Sounds more like a bribe than an apology, though it's very unlikely Th'ero would have agreed if were anything but a genuine and sincere gesture to make up for their spouses behavior. "Well, no." he admits. Awkward moment is now quite awkward and he rubs at the back of his neck. "They tried and I refused everything they offered," Everything? "Somehow they worked it out from me that I had mate…" And well, that's that? He clears his throat slightly, "I think those will look nice on you," he murmurs in a very low voice. So was he responsible for the selection? Could be!

Kimmila shakes her head. "I don't think so. I mean, they gave what they wanted, it's not like we asked for it." Then she blinks at him. And blinks. And stares. "What? You…what?" And, "what?"

"No, we did not ask for it. I certainly didn't. It was unexpected," Th'ero admits and then at her blinking and staring, his cheeks flush with a bit of color and he fidgets awkwardly, dropping his gaze to nudge at the now empty plate on the table. He clears his throat, "What was I to do? They weren't taking any of my objections…" he murmurs and he looks up to her again, confused as he frowns. "Have I done wrong?"

Kimmila just blinks. "You really didn't get anything? You picked those things out for me?" Has anyone ever gone clothes shopping for her before? Daggers and pouches are one thing, but…dresses?

"They had nothing of interest for me," Th'ero replies and his tone is firm and sincere. Really, they didn't! He clears his throat again and his head dips sheepishly. "Well… yes. They all but drowned me in options." he remarks dryly and then smirks, "Unfortunately they were out of daggers and weapons," he drawls and there is sarcasm in his tone. He shifts again in his chair, awkwardness edging into uncomfortable levels now.

Kimmila snorts and then she laughs. "Well, if you can't get me weapons, then I suppose a dress will do," she drawls, echoing his sarcasm. "I'm just surprised is all. And flattered. You…have nice taste. I don't know if anyone has ever selected clothes for me before. They're things you'd like me to wear?"

Th'ero smirks and almost gives her a narrowed look, but her laughter has him a little more at ease. He makes no comment on her compliment (if that is what it was) and he only coughs, "Well… yes. If you like them and wish to. You did not have to take any of the clothes, truthfully…" he murmurs in a low and quiet tone. The Weyrleader and Wingrider are sitting by the hearth in the living caverns, both lost in their conversation. An empty plate sits on the table and beside it a small stack of papers. For a late afternoon, the caverns are still rather sparsely populated and outside a heavy, steady autumn rain continues to fall and most weyrfolk are still about their business.

Kimmila shakes her head, sipping her klah. "No, I like the ones I picked. The others were too…either too plain or too frilly." She has very narrow tastes in girly things.

Abigail was hoping to avoid the rain today, not that it is possible if anyone wants to get around the Weyr. She pauses at the cavern entrance and gives her jacket a good shake, slight grumble escaping her while she pulls the jacket off and hangs it up so it can dry somewhat while she is inside. Soon enough she is off to find something warm to drink, a mug of hot klah is found and then there is a seat to be potted. She catches sight of a spot near the fireplace, though there are a few others there already it seems. A slight wave is seen along with a smile to both Th'ero and Kimmila. "Afternoon Weyrleader, Kimmila." Her right arm was at one point in a splint of sorts, darn broken bones, though at the moment she seems alright perhaps just getting it off not all that long ago.

Th'ero is likely wishing he had a mug to hold or something to which he could focus on instead of the awkwardness. So the empty plate is given a nudge, first one way along the table and then the other. What has the Weyrleader so fidgety? "I figured as much, but I added them all the same for some… sort of selection. Those were not the worst, either," he remarks dryly to Kimmila, only to nod his head, "I'm glad that some suited your tastes." But they will have to discuss it more later, as Th'ero's eyes suddenly look up and dart past the bluerider's shoulder as Abigail approaches. The wave is returned with a nod and a small that is small but welcoming, "Afternoon, Abigail. How are you?" he asks and the Weyrleader gives her a long and lingering look as the brownrider settles herself. "How is the arm? Mending?"

Kimmila looks quite curious now. "What were the worst?" Turning her head, she notices Abigail and smiles. "Hi there," she greets, nodding along with the spoken hello. Since Th'ero asks, she doesn't have to.

Abigail does sit upon a seat once it seems like they don't mind the company near that nice warm fire. "Much better now, wasn't a bad break at least." Could have been worse. "How are ye both doing?" This questioned with a curious tone while she peers curiously at them. Well she does recall one of them nearly drowning after all.

Th'ero turns his head to glance sidelong to Kimmila again when the bluerider curiously pries him for more. The Weyrleader smirks then but when he speaks, his voice is almost amused as if he's trying to contain a chuckle or two. "Bows," he says, "And frills like you wouldn't believe. Lace too and bright, bright colors. There was this one outfit…" He trails off though, catching himself as he recalls his location. Clearing his throat again, he leans back in his chair and looks to Abigail with curiosity. "Good! Glad and relieved to hear you have mended as well," he murmurs and it does seem sincere from the Weyrleader. Maybe he's feeling some guilt for not having come to check earlier on the brownrider? He had his reasons though and as she asks after their health, Th'ero's eyes pointedly fix on Kimmila for a moment before looking away again. "I am well and recovered," he murmurs and then exhales heavily. "Though the work never ceases. We've the issue of the holdless now and what to do with them. A lot of damage to clean up." To put it lightly.

Kimmila grimaces, looking progressively more disgusted as he goes on. "Ugh…" Shaking her head, she sips her klah and smiles at Abigail's report. "Good. Glad to hear it. So we're still on for that archery contest?" Some day? Eventually? Maybe. At Th'ero's pointed look she arches a brow and then looks to Abigail with a nod. "I'm healing as well, though this chill isn't helping much," she admits with a little shrug.

Abigail lets her gaze drift between the two curiously a few moments, She makes no comment about lacey things and takes a sip from her mug to make sure she doesn't have a chance to speak on the matter. As for anyone checking on her she doesn't seems worried about such things, she had a brown dragon watching over her and then her brother when he got around to talking to her, silly siblings. "I'm glad ta hear that yer both doing better." A slight grin is offered to Kimmila. "Aye, still on it for sure. Just let e know when."

Th'ero only looks a tad smug for Kimmila's disgusted response. He sort of warned her? Now the Weyrleader does chuckle, softly and brief. "Bows not to your tastes?" he drawls in a quietly teasing tone, unable to resist. At the mention of the chill, he instantly focuses on the bluerider and then looks to the fire now starting to burn low. "Would you like me to build the fire up a bit?" Odd request, but offered all the same. He was discussing lacey tops! Honest. Not those lacey things. Th'ero blinks then and looks between Kimmila and Abigail, "So the archery contest is still on then?" he muses and then turns to rifle through some of the letters left untouched until now. Finding what he seeks, he sets it out in the middle of the table and well within either of their reach. "Might have a good time lined up," he drawls, finger tapping the paper meaningfully. "Seems we've folks putting in a request for a festival or celebration of sorts. We are coming up to a time of harvest, but… why not make it a day of games too?" Or two, or three.

Kimmila snorts, eying Th'ero. "Not unless I can shoot them," she says dryly. Glancing at the fire, she thinks for a moment and then with a soft sigh, she nods. "I'd appreciate it wingmate, thank you. Keep the chill off." And let the damp Weyrleader dry out. "Of course it is," she says, a little surprised he'd think anything else. "Just have to plan it. And oh? That's an excellent idea. Faranth knows we should celebrate the end of this…thing."

Abigail grins a moment, seeming amused while she peers at the pair, a slight shake of her head seen while she holds back a chuckle. As for the archery contest still being on she sends a slight look to Th'ero pondering why it wouldn't still be on. "That sounds like a splendid thing to me. Rather sure there would be plenty of games to be done and stretch them out for a few days so everyone could get a chance to have a bit of fun."

Th'ero has to bite his tongue for the look Kimmila gives him. What? Don't think he's done, either! He's another trick up his sleeve but for now the Weyrleader is standing and moving to the hearth. "Not even a nice bow made of ribbon for your hair?" he teases lightly again, really pushing his luck. Better yet? "Don't you think so, Abigail?" Think fast! As he just threw the brownrider under the proverbial bus. What's with him today? Crouching, he quickly sets a few new logs on the fire and with moments has a fresh one roaring away. Now they'll all be quite warm and toasty and chills a distant memory. Settling back into his seat as though he had said nothing, Th'ero inhales slow and deep but looks pleased by their response to the ideas of the festivals. "I thought the same," he murmurs, glancing between them and his mood sobers a bit for Kimmila's point. "Yes, exactly. It'd be good for morale to have something… light and fun. I think a few days could be spared for it."

Kimmila snorts, "How about bows for your hair?" she fires back, rolling her eyes and giving Abigail a 'can you believe this guy?' look. "I'm sure Abigail agrees with me on the subject of bows and frills." Sipping her klah, she chuckles softly. "Mmmhmm. A fine idea. A celebration of…everything. Especially before the snows set in."

Abigail coughs and sputters as she is tossed into the mess via the question being asked. She sends a glance towards Th'ero that seems to say 'really'? A faint smirk is seen and she rolls her eyes a moment before grinning as she hears Kimmila. "Aye, I do agree with Kimmila on the subject of frills and bows. I have no use for any of 'em in the least." This said with a slight shake of her head as she eyes Th'ero, pondering if he really thought she would side with him on such a matter. Girls have to stick together after all! "I do like that idea. A nice autumn celebration."

Th'ero quirks a brow for Kimmila's quick reply, though he looks a bit put out by her overall response. Can he not joke or did he go a bit too far? Leaning back in his chair, he smirks but has no witty reply for her, save to drawl, "Hairs not long enough." So there. Glancing between Abigail and Kimmila then, he lifts his hands up in a gesture of defeat, holding them out as if to ward them off. "I was only teasing," he says dryly and then sighs a bit. Failing too, it seems. Awkwardly, he nods his head, glancing down to the sheet of paper still on the table. "Then perhaps I will put this forwards to weyr staff. At least then, you two will at last get your archery contest."

Kimmila was just joking back with him. Perhaps her reply fell a little flat. Though she does laugh. "I'll bet you I could find a bow that'd go in your hair," she says, amused. "We…know," she says, sensing the awkward and not sure how to ease it. "I was just joking back…" Bah, things are never easy between them. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea," she says, nodding and staring into her klah mug.

Abigail takes in a soft breath and grins a bit while peering at Th'ero. "Oh, I bet we could find a way to get a few in yer hair though." She offers with a joking tone. Anything could happen. A nod is seen while she glances to Kimmila then looks back to Th'ero. "Sounds like a great idea. Let me know if I can do anything ta help out with it."

"I'd like to see you try," Th'ero fires back to them, drawling with just enough of an amused challenge to his voice that hopefully some of the awkward is eased. The Weyrleader is not good with this sort of thing and it's no surprise that he misunderstood both Kimmila's and Abigail's responses. No, things are never easy between them. But he's trying! "Though I suppose I could cut my hair," He lifts his hand then to mime shearing it completely off as he glances between Kimmila and Abigail. He wouldn't dare! Would he? "That would put an end to that, hmm?" Smirking, it's evident he's still joking. There's no way he'd shave off his hair. Taking the piece of paper back, he slips it back between the others still stacked to the side and nods his head, "Of course. I'm sure we will need all the help we can get once it's officially set. Though this will be more the Headwoman's business, to be honest," he murmurs and then glances to Abigail, a thoughtful look crossing his features as his mood sobers. "Which reminds me. I knew I had forgotten something," The Weyrleader? Forgetful? Who knew. Th'ero turns then to reach for his jacket, the leather still quite damp from its earlier soaking from the rain. From one of the pockets he pulls something out but the item remains hidden, even as he turns to face both Abigail and Kimmila once more.

Well, Kimmila was grinning. Until he threatens /that/! She sits up straighter and stares at him, before pressing a hand to her chest. "Nooooo," she says, mock wailing. "It'd be a /tragedy/ to lose your hair." She knows he's joking. He knows how much she loves his hair! Grinning, she settles back into her seat and looks on curiously as Th'ero gets something else. "More surprises?"

Abigail ponders this as she just peers a Th'ero, a soft ah escaping her at the thought of him shaving off his hair. She chuckles a moment and shakes her head. "How about no ribbons for the lot of us and we don't have ta worry about anyone shaving their hair off?" She looks amused to say the least. A nod is seen at the bit on it being all Headwoman's business. "Tis what I figured. Since the busted arm I haven't been doing much, suppose I'm a bit bored." Save for getting to have fun filling out paper work and the like. She eyes her arm a moment making a slight face at it. "Still have another day or two to make sure it stays well." Well she isn't about to try and get it broken again if she can help it. Her gaze turns back to Th'ero, pondering once more how he could forget something. Though she doesn't question the matter as she looks curiously to what is being pulled out. "Surprises?"

Th'ero snorts at Kimmila's mock wailing and this time he knows she's joking and he almost grins in triumph. "Ah, so now I know what to use as a threat," he remarks teasingly with a crooked smile. He gives her a long look then for her remark on it being a 'tragedy' but his amusement remains. He knows! "Seems fair enough. Deal." Th'ero replies to Abigail with another crooked smile. At Kimmila's curious look, the Weyrleader only chuckles dryly, "Perhaps. But not for you," he muses before looking back to Abigail and for a moment seems sympathetic. Th'ero knows all too well how boring it can get and how fast when injured. "You'll be back to full duties soon then, I'd imagine?" he asks, glancing at her curiously again. "Apparently I am full of surprises lately," Th'ero goes on to murmur and this time it is hard to say if he is joking or if he's serious. But the "little" surprise he has for the brownrider is then set on the edge of the table and closest for her to reach for. It's a knot, double cord and double loop, one dominant color and one secondary — a Wingsecond's knot. The Weyrleader's mood has sobered completely now and the look he levels Abigail with is serious but reassuring, "Normally this would be Wingleader Nishka's duty, but her time is sorely pressed of late and she asked it of me to step in. Wingsecond L'da is looking to step down. The last few events have been… hard on him. Both have nothing but good to report on you and your work within Thunderbird. The choice is yours, there is no pressure to accept though it is safe to say we're all confident that you will do well. Nor will you be assuming full duties alone. L'da has agreed to shadow you for sometime until you feel you are comfortable." Which may be a small relief to know.

Kimmila settles comfortably into her chair to watch the exchange, and the bluerider doesn't look at all surprised when the knot is presented. She just looks pleased, giving the brownrider an encouraging smile s she waits for her reply.

Abigail chuckles softly and nods. "Deal indeed." She offers with an amused tone. Though just maybe she did ponder what Th'ero might look like with no hair, it would be a very sad day indeed. Her gaze drifts towards Kimmila and then back to Th'ero once the conversation is turned to her."Aye, another day or so as the healers want to make sure the break is truly healed. Which is fine with me, Niumreoth was starting to get rather bored." Last thing anyone wants is a bored brown dragon, especially one that likes to play in mud. The knot is looked, this was something she was clearly not expecting, something she didn't think was possible and now she is being given this chance and she is clearly thinking it over. Once the moment has passed she clears her throat and a warm smile is seen. "I'm truly taken back by such an offer, and honored that I was thought so highly for the position. Which I will more than gladly accept." The thought of L'da shadowing her does offer her lots of relief!

Not to worry, Th'ero's hair will never be cut! The Weyrleader nods his head to Abigail's mention of her healing arm, though if he knew of Niumdreoth's preference for playing in the mud, no doubt he'd be relieved too. He will wait patiently while the brownrider absorbs the shock at being offered the step up in rank, side glancing to Kimmila briefly to give the bluerider a pleased look. As Abigail accepts, Th'ero picks up the knot and standing, formally offers it to the brownrider with a wide smile, "Then the position is yours, Abigail. Congratulations and I know you will excel in this," he murmurs and waiting until she has accepted the knot, he will then move not back to his seat but to stand next to Kimmila's side. One hand lifts, resting gently on one of the bluerider's shoulder, he continues to keep his gaze fixed on Abigail, "You'll report as usual in the morning. I'll inform L'da and Nishka that you have accepted." And it will all progress from there!

Kimmila grins widely when Abigail accepts the knot, nodding and looking very pleased. "Wonderful! Congratulations, Abigail. I know you'll do a great job with it." Tilting her head up when Th'ero stands behind her, she gives him a little smile. "Should we go do that now?"

Abigail eyes the knot a moment before lifting her hand to take it from Th'ero, her smile is still seen while looking at it before her gaze turns back to the pair. "Thank ye for this. I greatly appreciate being given this position sir." Her smile is offered to Kimmila and she nods. "Thank ye Kimmila." She is happy that is for sure, still perhaps in a bit of shock but hey it'll pass with some time! A nod is seen while she holds onto that knot. "I shall be there with no problem sir." Bright and early for sure.

Th'ero looks down at Kimmila when she smiles at him and his hand only gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, "We will, shortly." he murmurs and then turns his attention back to Abigail and he smiles, dipping his head in a respectful way. "You're quite welcome, though no thanks needs to be given. You've earned this," Relieved that the promotion went so smoothly and the brownrider pleased with the change, the Weyrleader chuckles. "Good! For now though, enjoy your last evening as a Wingrider. Take it easy." Or not! Th'ero turns his head towards the entrance of the living caverns as voices can be heard approaching. Many of them. Seems like the dinner rush is about to begin and the Weyrleader is not looking too eager to be caught in the midst of it. "I hate to have to leave so soon after your promotion, but I've other matters to attend to. Starting with having you officially noted in the records as Wingsecond as of now." he says, stepping forwards to gather the stack of papers and a small package from the table after he snags his still damp jacket.

Kimmila pushes to her feet as well, giving Abigail a warm smile. "See you around, Wingsecond," she says with a grin and a touch of fingers to her brow.

Abigail keeps that smile and nods while she hears the two are taking their leave. "Not a problem, and thank ye again, truly." Take it easy, yes well that is an idea. A slight salute is offered back to Kimmila along with a faint grin. "Of course. Can't wait for that archery contest. Hope ye both have a good evening."

"Am I still to judge a winner for that contest?" Th'ero adds, his tone back to one of amusement now that the serious business has been settled and his gaze darts between Kimmila and Abigail. Slipping on his jacket, he then gathers a few more items of what appear to be a few folded articles of clothing though they, along with the paperwork, are quickly tucked under an arm. "Take care, Abigail. And the same to you," he replies with a wide smile, offering another respectful nod of his head and a vague salute to follow. Turning, he then motions for Kimmila to follow him, murmuring a few low words to her as he begins to step away to take the inner passages through the weyr.

Kimmila grins at Th'ero and nods. "I'm okay with that if Abigail is," she says, giving the Wingsecond a wave before she follows after Th'ero, tilting her head to listen and then replying softly as the two head off.

"That's fine with me." Abigail offers with a sot chuckle at the thought. That should for sure make the match an interesting one. She watches the two go, nodding before she glancing back to hat knot she has, still surprised.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.