Fort Weyr - Lookout Ridge

An open plateau of rock that's nestled on the northern face of the bowl wall, used to provide an ease of access to important parts of the Weyr; traffic here being minimal. Stonecut stairs lead down to the administration complex, while the bridge that adjoins this plateau spans across a gully to get to the central bowl wall, where the wing corridor can be quickly reached. A shortcut is also built up toward the Star Stones, so those without dragon can reach the long since used rocks.
Beyond the pathways and access routes, the view from this terrace is amazing. The eye has a good vantage point of the entire bowl below, from the hatching caverns, to the training complex, to the stretches of the central and southern most bowl. The rise of the mountain and the forest ranges can be glimpsed from here as well, distant images but outlined enough to distinguish where they start and end. Oddly enough there's a bench here, settled back against the bowl wall and angled to give the best view of the world beyond.


Good bye summer and welcome to autumn! The days have been progressively growing colder, though occasionally when the sun is bright and the skies are clear the air will be warm enough to cast doubt of the changing of the seasons. On this particular morning though, anyone venturing outside will know that colder days have come. It is early dawn, with most of the weyr just stirring from sleep. Frost covers some parts of the ground and the air remains crisp and cold from the night. The sky is heavy with clouds and what little sun does break through is pale and weak.

Despite the chill, there is one who has been out and wandering earlier still since before the sun had officially begun to rise. The Weyrleader is a creature of habit and having finished his patrolled rounds of the Weyr has returned to the lookout ridge. Th'ero stands by the edge lined with the bench, turned to face southwardly where one can just glimpse the bowl and forests beyond. He is dressed in one of his heavier riding jackets, the fur lined collar clasped close under his chin and his usual ensemble of black pants and knee high boots. There is only the one long dagger hanging over his hip and a notable absence of his sword. With his hands clasped behind his back, it's as though he is standing there, gazing ahead in the distance and lost to his thoughts. Or is he waiting on someone? Could be both!

Long habit sees D'ani out of bed at dawn, awake and alert soon after sliding into jeans, buckling belt about his lean hips and stuffing sockfeet into his boots. Helping that alert state is the - let's call it bracing - eddy of air in through the flap of carpet that separates the sleeping room from the larger space where Dremkoth's wallow is. Having flipped the tacked-up carpet-door aside, the bronzerider stalks over to one of those still unpacked boxes, rummages through it in order to find a shirt, shakes it out and dons the heavy, long sleeved garment. Dremkoth, having slept in his straps, has shifted to watch his rider, rumbling a greeting that is laced with humor. It's funny to the bronze that he helped lug up the stuff D'ani is negotiating through on a daily basis (like the still-empty chest of drawers, a couple of rolled up carpets, tables, boxes, etc) for no apparent reason other than to clutter the Weyr in haphazard fashion. leather jacket and gloves pulled on, Dremkoth half-rolled to one side so his rider doesn't have to work too hard to pull himself astride, the pair launch and glide to the ridge where the same awkward half-roll occurs, D'ani unclips, swings a leg over and hops the few feet down, bootsoles clacking seemingly loudly on stone in the chill morning air.

Who ever said there's a needed rush to unpack? If one is comfortable, that's all that matters right? Lost in thought or not, it'd be nigh on impossible to miss the arrival of any dragon to the ridge and Th'ero turns his head away from gazing out over the bowls in favor of turning dark eyes upward and sidelong as Dremkoth comes to land. The Weyrleader makes no comment on the awkward half-roll, though he does at least step away and take a few short steps to approach both bronze and rider. "Morning, D'ani." he greets in his usual low and reserved tone, but he does offer a small smile, along with a half-salute. That would be the extent of his formalities it would seem, as he tilts his head to glance up to the bronze as well. "And to you as well, Dremkoth. You both look well and rested. How is the arm?" That of course is directed back to D'ani as Th'ero has his gaze turned back to the young Weyrsecond.

Ha! It's been weeks, but eventually D'ani will find time to get to that unpacking. He'd seen Th'ero on the ridge, perhaps angled Dremkoth here when he did. D'ani doesn't seem to mind his awkward dismount has been seen; he's practically-minded. Dremkoth rumbles a response to Th'ero's greeting before spreading his wings and dropping off the ridge for the bowl. "Morning Sir," D'ani's salute follows the Weyrleader's, although his is not as snappy-sharp as his usual, and afterwards he works his shoulder a bit before shoving his hand into his jacket pocket. "Egh, it's healing. Stiff, can't do heavy work with it or move it quickly yet. It'll improve in time. I've been released to light duty though," he answers with an uptick ending the report on a cheery note. There's a squinted glance at the sun peeking through ragged clouds near the horizon before brown eyes settle back on the Weyrleader.

Th'ero does not seem to mind at all that D'ani spotted him up on the ridge and neither is there any chiding for the not as snappy-sharp salute. It seems only fair after all, given that the Weyrleader only half-saluted the Weyrsecond. "You don't have to call me Sir, D'ani. Not here at least," That he does point out and never has Th'ero enjoyed that part of the formality. He'll tolerate it to a degree, knowing it's expected and simply common courtesy but once he begins to step beyond a mere acquaintance level with another, he tends to let slide that title. Listening politely to the report, the Weyrleader grimaces to start in sympathy and his gloved hand reaches up to lightly press against his shoulder where Turns ago Laris' sword caught him. It's a brief gesture and Th'ero soon has his hand falling away to rest at his side again. "I know that feeling all too well. The stiffness will ease… light duty, you said? That's good. That will help." Why not stick to the cheery side of things? Motioning then with a tilt of his head, the Weyrleader begins to slowly step back towards the south facing bench once he's certain the young bronzerider is following. "How have you been, otherwise?" he asks, turning his head just enough to glance curiously to D'ani.

"Habit," D'ani grins of calling anyone out-ranking him 'Sir'. Meaning: he'll try to remember? His gaze follows Th'ero's gesture, interpreting it as, "Ah, you can relate, eh?" A jerk of his chin points to the other's shoulder. "What happened to yours?" Because, well, he's too young for it to be arthritis, right? While he follows the Weyrleader to the bench, his other gloved hand works to flip up his jacket collar around his neck, then get's stuffed in his other pocket. "I've been adjusting from summer to winter as slowly and awkwardly as an Emerald Islander will," is his rueful answer. And because the Weyrleader likely already knows anyway, he adds, "Took the Weyrwoman fishing the other day…" He sits, slouches back against the wall, taking in the view, spectacular even on a raw, cloudy day. "Nice view," he says laconically. Two guys, talking. It's a wonder there's more than grunts and ugs back and forth.

"I figured," Th'ero replies with another small, lopsided smile. Truthfully, he'd not be annoyed if D'ani forgot again. But it's worth a shot all the same. The Weyrleader snorts, "First time we cornered Laris, I fought him and lost. His sword caught me," And his hand lifts to tap from just inside of his upper chest beneath the collarbone only to drag across into his shoulder as he grimaces at the memory. "And it was some time before I had use of my arm again or the full strength. Kimmila had the hardest recovery, having been shot in the back by an arrow. So it would seem we all can relate," he drawls in dry, sarcastic humor. But to steer from darker conversations, Th'ero stares sharply at D'ani in a much more focused and intent manner. "Emerald Islander?" he echoes, only to study the young Weyrsecond more closely. "Are you from the Isles yourself?" he asks next and his tone is amused regardless. Choosing to stand next to the bench, he keeps his side turned to the barrier wall, facing D'ani but with view of the Weyr below should he turn his head. A brow quirks up for the tidbit of news, "Did you now?" Th'ero drawls again, smirking faintly only to speak with a low chuckle following his words. "Seeing as you're still here and whole, I'll assume it went well?" So far D'ani has a better track record with the Weyrwoman than he does! No loss of pants or a black eye. "Mhm," What was that about grunts? "It is. I often come here after patrols. It's quiet and peaceful and few linger or pass through here. About as close to a "retreat" as one can get." Th'ero remarks, turning now to glance back out over the bowls. "Have you been by the camps?" It's asked quietly, almost as if in apology for having to slip business into an otherwise casual conversation.

There's a grimace of sympathy upon hearing Th'ero's account. Shoot, a piercing versus a slicing! No wonder it took some time before the man could use his arm! Somehow Kimmila getting her licks too doesn't seem to surprise the bronzerider. "She's the toughest scrapper I've ever met," he says with a touch of humor mingled with admiration for the bluerider. "Damn Laris. I'm glad he's gone," D'ani adds, his mouth twisting savagely and uncharacteristically in contrast with his normally easy-going mien. He turns his head more fully to meet the Weyrleader's gaze, "You know what Ezra wanted? To see the body for himself!" It's half-snorted accompanied by a head shake and a rough sigh as his eyes drift back to the panoramic scene outspread before them. "Aye, I'm from Emerald Island," he says with a flick of eyes from the horizon to the man standing there, curious. "Maiona was my father's holding." Was, not is, he says but doesn't elaborate. Instead, "Why?" He smirks about Dtirae, explaining, "She was prodding me to keep busy in one breath and leaving sentences unfinished the next so…" So yeah, he put words in her mouth, "I said she needed to go fishing with me." At least the Weyrleader didn't ask if she baited his hook, whew! Of the camps, he shakes his head no. "Now that they've cleared me, I thought I'd go down there today." Which… may be why he's stopped on on the ridge upon spotting Th'ero.

"She is very tough," Th'ero agrees and there is no missing the fondness in his tone or the admiration even when his expression barely twitches beyond the neutral look he has set in place. The Weyrleader snorts again and now his mouth does draw up into something between a grimace and a smirk, "You and I both. The damage he did to all…" he mutters, only to leave the rest unsaid with a meaningful look to D'ani. The young bronzerider would know to whom he speaks of. He blinks though, attention turned away from the panoramic view in favor to peer at the Weyrsecond, "I'm not wholly surprised, actually. What did you tell him?" Not that Th'ero has much say in the matter. No matter what Ezra would want, Laris' body has no doubt been taken care of long ago. Shifting his weight, he leans against the barrier wall as the conversation switches back again to talk of the Isles and his gaze does not waver even at the curious look. "Maiona." Th'ero repeats, frowning thoughtfully only to shake his head slightly. No, he must never have visited though he does not know the fate of the cothold. Nor does he press D'ani for elaboration on the use of 'was'. There is a moment of paused silence, as the Weyrleader frowns as if to consider answering and then slowly he speaks up again. "I was curious because I am from the Emerald Isles. Northern reaches of it." he drawls and the accent of his tone shifts, becoming thicker and more pronounced. "Irondell. Fishing cothold." He smiles lopsided then, "Small world." As for the Weyrwoman, Th'ero only chuckles dryly and does not go as far as any witty jokes. Not yet. "Clever." is his only remark on that before his head turns again towards the south, where those camps are hidden from view. Now his frown grows slightly troubled and his tone returns to a sobered and firm level. "Today would be ideal. We've not had much trouble with them, but they are growing restless. Sooner we can begin the sorting, the better. Though our next issue lies with the Holders…" Won't matter if they're sorted, if they have nowhere to go, what then?

In an almost-growl, not aimed at Th'ero but of the need borne of such a request from his young friend, D'ani says flatly, "Being it was about a week after the event, I told him no." An expression of distaste flits across the Weyrsecond's face at the thought and he thrusts it away by pushing himself to his feet to pace to the rim and look out over the vista. He turns around at hearing that Th'ero is from the Western Isles - the Emerald Archipelago at that - too, both brows twitched upwards in surprise. "Irondell," he nods, sounding familiar with the name at least. "My father made me learn them all." A pause, "You surf then?" Everyone in the isle surfs! Or so he's always believed. Small world indeed! "Ever go back to visit?" It's a casual question, his own longing for home clearly heard in his simple question. The conversation turns to business and he nods briskly. "Aye and with winter coming, it's no wonder." The holders, the Weyrleader says and since D'ani has been wondering, "What of Stonehaven then? Shame to leave it abandoned and unproductive like it is."

Th'ero doesn't take that almost-growl personally and only glances sidelong to D'ani to study him while the young bronzerider works out his response. "How did he take that?" he asks, both curious and even concerned. He has seldom spoken to Ezra over the Turns, but the Weyrleader hasn't forgotten of the youngest Stonehaven survivor. When D'ani pushes to his feet to begin to pace, Th'ero straightens as well but does not move far from the barrier wall facing the south facing end of the lookout ridge. Now his focus on the young bronzerider is turning studious, rather than curious and especially so when there is familiarity in the other man's voice. "Ahh, I see." he drawls, only to chuckle dryly and shake his head. "No, I do not surf." Does he look like someone who'd have fun like that? At the next question, Th'ero's expression grows hard and conflicted, closing off as he turns to face the weyr bowls below. "No." he says in a blunt and flat tone. "I'm not exactly welcomed for visits." It's hardly an elaboration and spoken quietly, unaware of the other's longing hinted at in an otherwise casual question. Back to business, Th'ero rolls his shoulders slightly and clears his throat, "Exactly. But they must go somewhere. We cannot house them through the winter." he turns then to give D'ani a level look for the suggestion, frowning heavily. "I am leery of that option. If perhaps it is the last one we have, then maybe. But we do not have the final say. Do you have any idea of how Ezra or even Rayathess would feel towards such a proposition?"

In the sky above the weyr, a familiar small blue dragon winks in from between, circling down to land on the Weyrleader's ledge. Kimmila dismounts and vanishes inside, only to emerge a moment later and look around. No doubt she has Varmiroth ask Velokraeth where Th'ero is (and if he'd mind her joining him) before she begins to make the climb to the lookout.

Bluntly, likely to cover his own emotions regarding the circumstances, "When I explained that Laris' corpse would be back and bloated besides already buried, he acquiesced. It'd be grotesque," he adds needlessly. "I do wish Ezra'd asked someone the day of because it probably would give him some closure. I don't suppose the harpers made sketches?" He looks hopeful as he utters that last question. Ah, no. The Weyrleader looks nothing like he'd hang ten on a big gun while shooting the curl. Still: He…doesn't…surf??? D'ani looks more aghast by this than the fact that the man doesn't visit his home hold. Things happen, he knows this, so he ahhs quietly, sympathetically. Leave it to D'ani to inject some levity into this conversation: "If you're not afraid to try, I'll teach you some day," he says casually. A challenge? "Right after we play the drinking game," he tacks on with the corners of his mouth trying to keep from curling up. Th'ero tipsy. Scary thought? Back to business, ahem! The Weyrsecond nods about the Weyr not having the final say about the situation. "The Hold Conclave will decide?" That's what he's surmised anyway. He shakes his head no about the Stonehavens. "I mentioned one time I'd be willing to do watchrider there if Ezra went back to work on it; he seemed appreciative, but that was before Rayathess turned up." He resumes his pacing, restless and holding back his personal feelings, peering back down at the bowl and spotting a figure ascending the stairs and waves to her.

Th'ero's mouth draws into a thin and tight line, grim and nose wrinkled faintly in disgust for D'ani's blunt reply. "Beyond grotesque. All for the best that Ezra was disuaded from going though perhaps we did blunder in not seeking him or Rayathess out at the end of it." Not that it really is any fault of any of them. Th'ero and Kimmila were in no fit condition, D'ani was injured and out, Dtirae and Inri caught up in the chaos of things… It could be forgiven, right? "Sketches? I could ask the Harpers. I'm certain there were. If anything to have something to compare to the ones drawn prior…" he murmurs, frowning heavily. It is probably for the best that the young bronzerider does not pry further into Th'ero's past, the Weyrleader already feeling a touch uneasy for saying just that much. At the challenge though, his eyes narrow and he fixes D'ani with a long, thoughtful look. "Alright," he agrees, accepting to the terms with no hesitation. "And which drinking game do you speak of?" There are more than one? His mouth quirks up into a lopsided smile then. Tipsy Th'ero is not too scary. Ask Kimmila! Who is now approaching, as the Weyrleader turns towards the stairs as well and he greets her with a small but welcoming smile. D'ani's pacing however has the Weyrleader watching him carefully and his next words are spoken slowly, almost cautiously. "Yes, the Conclave will have the largest decision in it," he agrees. "But who is to say that Rayathess will step up to reclaim Stonehaven? He's shown no desire that I know of or heard of."

Kimmila walks the rest of the way up to the lookout, her green eyes glancing between the Weyrleader and Weyrsecond. Weyrsecond! Yay! She still looks pleased as punch about that. Though only for a moment, before her look sobers. "Am I interrupting?" she asks politely. Courteously as she stops beside Th'ero. Briefly, she reaches out to touch his arm in a fleeting contact, and the her hands are stuck into her pockets against the slight chill in the air.

Not a bit daunted by that long, narrow-eyed look, D'ani's grin borders on smirky. He waves his hand and says vaguely, "There are a number of them; this one involves rum and a deck of cards." He doesn't often overdo when it comes to booze, but maybe he's figuring it's the only way he'll get the Weyrleader on a surfboard? Oh, he'd like to ask Kimmila what Th'ero is like when tipsy, but he's not that irreverent. "Hey Kimmila." He'll let Th'ero answer whether the bluerider's an interruption. His eyes crinkle in a welcoming smile for her, "We just found out we're both from the Emerald Isles. Would you like to learn to surf sometime?" The subject isn't too awfully awkward, at least for him. As for Rayathess, he stuffs his hands back into his pockets and his brow lowers thoughtfully; he's troubled. "Yeah, I know he hasn't. He's… I think he's…" How to phrase this? He swings towards the Weyrleader, all traces of buoyancy gone, meeting his eyes for the most part, but including Kimmila in this too. Earnestly he tells them both, "It's like Rayathess is hollow - like Laris stole the man he was. Or… or he doesn't feel he has a right anymore to ask anything. Or… well, maybe he never wanted to be Holder." He's uncertain about that, but firm when he adds, "But Ezra, last I knew, wanted Stonehaven." A deep breath is drawn, "And I think the work restoring it would do them both good, if only to partially dispel (nothing's ever going to erase it) the aura of tragedy there; they need a purpose."

"I think I am aware of that one," Th'ero murmurs but it is hard to determine if the Weyrleader approves or not of that game. "We could just drink and forego the game?" he drawls next with a full smirk. Keep it simple? D'ani may find that he'll get more than he bargains for with a tipsy Th'ero and alcohol may not be needed at all to get the bronzerider to surf. Just that hint of a challenge was enough to start him leaning to the suggestion. "Morning, Kimmila," Th'ero greets his Weyrmate warmly, stepping a little closer to her side at her fleeting touch. "No, you're not interrupting. We were just discussing a few things…" he murmurs, only to smirk as D'ani fills in the rest. Clearing his throat, the Weyrleader rests his hand gently (and somewhat discreetly) against her lower back, while his eyes lift to glance back to D'ani. "There was that. And the continued issue we have with the holdless." he amends, only to look cautious and on edge again as the Weyrsecond swings towards him, meeting his eyes in return. "It does seem like something is off about Rayathess. Have you — has anyone spoken to him about it? Even Ezra?" Now even Th'ero seems troubled by the thought, frowning heavily again as his gaze lowers and his mouth sets into a firm, grim line. "Ezra may still get his wish, if Rayathess does not claim his right. I've no issue with either of them working to restore Stonehaven if that is what they wish. To give them a purpose, as you said. But fill it with the holdless from those camps? That makes me uneasy." Surely there are a few good souls among that ragtag group though?

Kimmila arches a brow. "Surf? I suppose I could give it a try. If Th'ero will join us, at least to watch. And oh?" Her brows furrow as if she's wondering whether she knew that D'ani was from the Emerald Isles. In the end she decides she can't remember if she knew that or not. "Hollow…I can see that. Certainly, after all that's happened." Quiet for a moment, she nods. "Perhaps it's time we broach that subject with them. What their wants are. I've certainly seen Ezra wandering around aimlessly enough." Glancing back to Th'ero, she laughs. "No games, just drinking?" She leans subtly back against Th'ero's hand, but makes no other move towards the Weyrleader. "I haven't," she says of talking with Rayathess, looking at D'ani. If anyone has, she figures the Weyrsecond has. "I can't imagine either of them would be okay with putting some of Laris' group in Stonehaven. Innocent or not…it just seems so wrong."

What does D'ani know of the Weyrleader, really? Give him time… Though there'll likely be only a mere sip or two to relax them before braving the waves - they'll need their balance, after all, "Sure," he says about the drinking game. That idea is easily discarded since it doesn't really seem needed given the man's acceptance of the challenge. Kimmila's willingness to join the idea has him elated enough to flash her a grin before returning to the troubling topic of the Stonehavens and the holdless. He listens somberly to each of them in turn, nodding to their points. "I haven't either," he says of having spoken to Rayathess about the hold itself. "He did seem quite concerned about the holdless folk, though I don't know how he'd feel about taking the best of them to Stonehaven. If anyone can understand the hold Laris had on them, he can. Ezra? Who knows?" He shrugs then, clearly more concerned for the Stonehavens - yes Rayathess too - than the holdless rifraf. "What are the other options for them?"

"I agreed to join," Th'ero murmurs with a lopsided to Kimmila and glancing sidelong to D'ani, though the look he gives the other bronzerider is more along 'so it's settled then?'. "And I will try it. No games!" No sitting on the sidelines either this time, it seems. Sobering and grim topics are at hand though and the Weyrleader soon turns his focus back to business. "Rayathess and Ezra both have been through so much," Th'ero murmurs, looking down to Kimmila and then up and over to D'ani once more. "His concern could have had it's reasons. Perhaps he felt he owed something to a few of them… as twisted as that may sound. We've no idea of what occurred during his time trapped there." He shakes his head then, "Perhaps we need to consult the Stonehaven brothers earlier than later?" he asks, only to sigh heavily and glance back out over the bowls. "Very few, I'm afraid. Some may be facing exile, others may have a better chance at being accepted into a Hold. It'll be better than this limbo and I worry that some may get too restless and try to slip away. And I'd rather not allow more fodder go to the wrong hands." he remarks with a bitter smirk. Is he speaking of the renegades?

Kimmila flashes Th'ero a crooked grin, though she's clearly pleased that he'll be going as well. Though she has her doubts he'll get into the water. Surfing might not be the best activity for a man who recently almost drowned. "Hmm. Sounds like we do need to talk with them. Or someone should," she says, glancing at D'ani. "You know them far better than we do." Glancing at Th'ero, she nods slightly. "My thought was that those that are deemed innocent - and fit - be given a choice. They can either seek their home holds - if they'll have them back - or we can give them another cothold to build. Not Stonehaven, but another one in need of repair. One of the farming ones, perhaps. It's never a bad thing to have more food growing. Have you spoken with the Harpers yet?" she asks of Th'ero, before elaborating for D'ani. Welcome to leadership? "We were thinking that if they were to start a new holding, the people in charge should be very, very carefully chosen. And perhaps the Harpers might know of a second son or someone that could lead this group with some compassion."

D'ani nods silently back to Th'ero. Settled. They just need to find a time when they can pry Th'ero away from the Weyr and go there. There's where the challenge lies! *cough* D'ani's not equating surfing with drowning near-misses. Oops? Of Rayathess and Ezra he can only agree; they have been through it indeed. A troubled sigh escapes his lips after the Weyrleader's comment and the heavy weight of care he carries over the issue he usually hides from Ezra is obvious. "Maybe," he says doubtfully of Rayathess; he really doesn't know why he'd enquired of the holdless folk when told his family's murders was finally caught and killed. "I'll do what I can to help those interviews move along." He listens intently to Kimmila's explanation, nodding his understanding at the end. He's really not so concerned that the people go to Stonehaven as he is the Stonehavens go there if that's what they wish. "So… you mentioned… other…plans for Stonehaven?" he prompts, curious as to what she'd meant the other day.

Prying Th'ero away from the Weyr IS the challenge! Neither has the bronzerider factored in his near drowning to be a problem with surfing. Time will tell though and only when they attempt the activity will it be seen if he reacts poorly or simply masters his fear out of pride. As Kimmila mentions speaking to Rayathess and Ezra, the Weyrleader looks conflicted. None of his past meetings with either Stonehaven have gone very well. Not that he's given them much of a chance. "I'm in favor of giving those innocent a choice. If any are deemed innocent." Th'ero murmurs, only to shake his head. "Not yet, but that was on my list of tasks for the day." he admits, looking back to D'ani and giving the young Weyrsecond a small smile that may be reassuring or sympathetic. Or both. Welcome to leadership, indeed! "Good. If you do go to the camps today, you will let us know of what you discover? Even if none of the interviews are done this day." Did Th'ero just hint that he may not go to the camps himself at all? His head nods slowly with Kimmila's elaboration of some of the plans and his brows furrow in deep thought, mulling over all the options. "It may be a good option to consider, for now. Though I think we should remain open to many. Just in case." Can't help to have selection, right? "Other plans for Stonehaven?" Th'ero echoes, now turning his head down to glance curiously to Kimmila. Do tell?

Kimmila blinks at D'ani, a little confused for a moment. "Other plans for Stonehaven?" She has to think back to that conversation, and then shakes her head. "Oh! No, no. I meant we had other plans for the /holdless/. Once they'd been sorted. Stonehaven…it's really up to the boys, isn't it?" she asks, looking at Th'ero. "I'm fine with whatever they want to do with it. I don't feel the need to meddle - only help, if they want it."

"Good luck," he says dryly of talking with Rayathess and Ezra. They don't… want him in on that, do they? "I will," D'ani promises Th'ero gravely of keeping him apprised. Both he and Dtierae will likely get a neatly-written report summarizing what happens there each day. Of Stonehaven, when Kimmila sets him straight, he looks visibly relieved. He'd been worried about that since he mis-heard her. He'll blame the fellis (No wonder Th'ero won't take it)! Aaaand the morning is moving right along, he notes with a glance flickered to the cloud-covered sky. It's still early, but breakfast will be ready and he has lots to do. Like find that office he'd asked about. Or at least the desk. Whichever. "I'll just… go get… office-y stuff before I go out to the camp," he says as he starts towards those stairs. Clipboard, pen, paper, and the like. Someone point him in the right direction? Before he wanders around the caverns asking random people, "Where's my office?"

They most likely will need D'ani to be in on any talks with Rayathess or Ezra. At least as damage control, given Th'ero's tendencies with conversation that should be simple and yet he'll find ways to make it awkward or worse. When in doubt, always blame the fellis! "Stonehaven is up to them, yes. We will support them for whichever decision, but in the end it is still theirs." he says, looking back to Kimmila though his gaze will lift to draw D'ani into it as well. Only to quirk a brow as the Weyrsecond begins to edge towards the stairs. Now the Weyrleader is tilting his head up to peer at the sky and noticing how much of it has lightened, he shifts against Kimmila's side. "If you need anything else, just have Dremkoth send word or send a firelizard. Someone will be available to run it out too you. And your office," Now his tone sounds amused as he lifts his free hand to point to the stairs, though he clearly means the levels below. "Is alongside mine and the Weyrwoman's. Inside the council rooms." Th'ero spares a quick glance then to the weyr below and sighs heavily, "And I will go speak to the Harpers."

Kimmila thought D'ani was going to be the one - the only one - to talk to Ezra and Rayathess. "Good luck to /you/," she replies with a wry grin. "Do let us know what they decide, alright? I'd like to help if I can." If they want her help. Then she glances at Th'ero, and shrugs. "Alright. Well, you both let me know if I can help."

Whut? The only one…? D'ani's eyes fix on Kimmila in startled fashion. He will probably be more comfortable than Th'ero doing it, even though Rayathess still doesn't seem to trust him, but he's got no idea Weyrleader and Weyrthird would trust him that much, to handle that conversation on his own. Heh. They can but ask and he will try. If they want him to do it, he will. He pauses on the second step to turn back to the pair, a searching glance flickered back and forth between the pair. "I will," he says to Th'ero, "It will be Dremkoth because Ragtag (his brown firelizard) is… somewhat scattered." There's another one of his shallow salutes (yay sore shoulder) to the both of them and then he's taking the stone stairs two at a time to the bowl to get started on soothing his growling stomach and starting on today's tasks.

Never say never? So it may be that D'ani will be the one to talk to the Stonehaven brothers. Even if Th'ero has to use the excuse of 'too busy' as cover. The Weyrleader nods his head as the Weyrsecond pauses to reassure them, only to smirk at the mention of the scattered brown firelizard. "Understood." Truly, it is. He deals with his own trio and they are… unique. Returning the salute, Th'ero adds before the young bronzerider can disappear entirely, "Clear skies and good luck, D'ani." Now it's his turn to gather his resolve and prepare to face the tasks of the day. He lingers though, giving Kimmila a curious look for her reply. "Do you wish to join me while I go find these Harpers? Or do you have other duties today?" he asks in a low tone, his hand still resting gently against her back, he begins to step towards the stairs but also try to guide her with him. Time is ticking!

Kimmila watches D'ani go with a little grin, but when she looks up at Th'ero her brows are furrowed. "You don't think we're asking too much, too soon?" she says quietly, when she assumes the Weyrsecond is out of earshot. "And I can come with. Got my sweeps done already, so I'm free until this afternoon."

Th'ero will forego keeping his hand on Kimmila's back in favor of slipping his arm around her instead. Lowering his head, he speaks softly to the bluerider as he begins to navigate those stairs at a slow pace. "No, I don't think so. I think he would tell us if it was too much." He seems pretty confident in that! The Weyrleader will look pleased by her response and rather than turn towards his ledge and weyr, he will move them towards the stairs leading down lower into the bowls. "Good! Then we have some time to get this sorted," he murmurs and then they're off and gone. Hopefully those Harpers haven't pulled a disappearing act!


'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.