Fort Weyr - Ground Entrance - SW Bowl

The dominant feature of the southern end of the bowl is the blue lake that fills the entire southern tip and the rockslide that tumbles down into its far side. It has been many, many, turns since the slide took place, but it still stands uncleared to this day. Occasionally, smaller pebbles tumble down to splash into the waters of the lake below, but the mass seems mostly stable. Sturdy fences mark the feeding pens that the dragons may choose their meals from, located against the west face. The beasthold here is minor, small cramped buildings, used mostly to maintain the herds which feed the dragons. The major beasthold is located out in the forests, just outside the Weyr. There's a sign which warns "that beasts in this location are fair game to the dragons" and that any domestic pleasure stock should be kept in the major beasthold location.
The other feature that does not go unnoticed in this bowl is the large cavernous archway. There seems to be cobble stone laid down near the archway, which causes a clatter when the wagons and trading caravans arrive. Indeed, it seems that there's a tunnel out of the bowl here, wide enough for two trader caverns to fit through and possibly a small blue dragon. To the opposite end, the great bowl stretches away far, leading to some very interesting locations.


Hours before saw the lake shore turned into a mud wrestling ring but that event has since ended and the crowds dispersed for an early feast held in the caverns and spilling out into the northern bowl. Evening approaches now, the sun beginning to set towards the horizon and throwing the skies above into a myriad of colors, clear save for a few slow drifting clouds. The winds are down but the air remains cool and growing colder as the light fades. That doesn't keep folk from venturing outside again and crowding the southern bowl, the lake shore and no doubt a few brave souls have climbed the perilous spire and attempt to jostle for places on the overlook. For word was spread that there would be a 'special' display, one taken right from the past.
So who needs fireworks when you have… Theadfall!? Mock Threadfall, as all know the true menace has been gone from Pernese skies for hundreds of Turns now. Volunteer riders from all the Wings had been gathered and in spare time drilled for the event and now they take to the skies. One group splits off to fly highest of all to drop grey and silver painted cloth rope threads down on another Wing in fight-ready formation and then the sky erupts with blossoms of flame as the reenactment begins. Who needs fireworks when you have huge fire breathing dragons? It may not be overly glorious, as none truly have any experience but the crowds below react with cheers and awed murmurs. Was this how it was? Probably not even close. Most of the rope is charred and carried away harmlessly by the wind. Any that falls unburned is hunted out by weyrbrats and children playing 'ground crew' though they are supervised to be sure they don't set the whole Weyr ablaze in their antics.

Th'ero stands by the entrance leading outside of the Weyr, dressed in a new set of formal riding gear. Black, as usual, but trimmed in grey and white, as well as some dark brown, though it is kept subtle. Surprising the Weyrleader is not up with the riders now circling back to land. Tradition would have him Leading, but the bronzerider declined and remained on the ground with the crowds below. He does watch though and with rapt attention. Nervous? Perhaps he is. A lot could have gone wrong (but didn't) and with the display now wrapped up, he exhales and his smile, though small, is relaxed as he turns his attention back to a few who approach to greet him and comment on the event.

Kimmila is one of the ones in the sky, soaring with Varmiroth as the nimble blue dips and turns and spins, belching flame to char those bits of cloth. He catches one across his flank and vanishes between, reemerging but with a telltale slash of grey paint across his powder blue hide. With the display over, he circles down to land and Kimmila dismounts, pulling off her helmet and goggles and sending the blue aloft to watch the next goings on from a height, probably by Velokraeth. Pushing hair back from her face, she walks over towards Th'ero with a smile. "That was magnificent."

Borodin is very glad it's not real threadfall. Not that he's heard more than the scary stories told among holder children, of course, but that's more than enough to make him glad. He's also glad to not have the Weyr burning down! Maybe that's why he's here watching, so that if a stray gout of flame or overenthusiastic weyrbrat sets things alight, he'll be well-situated to run… or maybe he's watching to see if Abigail and Niumdreoth are among the flaming fliers. That'd account for how he's actually watching the skies!

D'ani hasn't been cleared for rough flying yet, not to mention throwing those heavy straps over Dremkoth for harnessing still takes more muscle than he can manage without tearing half-healed tissues awry. Aware that the display will be partially visible from the holdless encampment, he's been there to let them know it is an exercise and not to be alarmed, then remained there to watch and hopefully help (or try to help) soothe jangled nerves. Leaving as the last 'threads' fwoosh aflame and flutter groundwards, he's crunching across the gravelly path leading up into the Weyr. At least he avoided getting a crick in his neck by watching things from a higher elevation, even if limited in visibility. His clothes are the usual jeans, scuffed boots and crisp shirt, rolled up sleeves, demeanor casual as he approaches from the other direction, calling out a general, "Nice show!" to all of them.

"You and Varmiroth flew well!" Th'ero compliments by way of greeting to Kimmila as the bluerider approaches her and his smile widens by a fraction, reaching out with his arm to attempt to slip it around her. Turning then as he catches a snippet of a familiar voice (or is it because it comes from the other direction?), the Weyrleader spies the returning Weyrsecond and waves to him. "Evening, D'ani!" he calls and then frowns lightly. "Observed from the square?" he asks, though truly he should know what the young bronzerider was up too. No doubt Velokraeth has perched himself up high somewhere as well to watch and the pale bronze will welcome the Varmiroth's company and others too, of course. His rider may be reserved, but he is not! Several of the riders who had participated are landing now, met by cheers and shouted compliments and remarks. Will there be an encore performance? Who knows! Most look eager to dismount and tend to their dragons first and then seek out refreshment. The south bowl is not without a few tables laden with fingerfoods and drink either!

Kimmila grins, slipping her arm around Th'ero's waist and giving it a squeeze as she smiles up at him. "Thank you! You really should have joined us. We need to do that more often. Much more often. Like…tomorrow." Flushed with the excitement of riding a flaming dragon, who wouldn't want to do that again? "Hello Borodin. D'ani," she greets the others with nods, before looking back to the Weyrleader. "What else is on the agenda for tonight? More dancing and music?"

One of the dragon and rider pairs that was in the performance was Abigail and Niumdreoth. A few low rumbles escapes the one while his wings tuck in close and his tail sways a few times while he eyes the air, seems someone wants another go at it! Abbey hops down and takes her goggles off, a grin is sent to her dragon. "Maybe we're get to do it again soon." It was indeed fun. A quick glance is given to her dragon before she is wandering on towards where she has caught sight of Borodin and the others he seems to be near. A smile is seen and she waves. "Hello, some fun that was." As for what else is on the agenda for tonight, hopefully that doesn't mean more mud wrestling.

"Hello," Borodin says to Kimmila, ducking his head in a bit of a nod and with a flick of his eyes that includes Th'ero… more or less. He's quick enough to look away, anyhow, and that's when he finds Abbey - aha! He thought he saw her up there. He offers her a smile. "It, uh, you looked good. Niumdreoth flew well."

D'ani shakes his head. "No, I watched from the Amethyst in the Pines," he answers Th'ero, adding "There was some dismay over the display, but they've calmed… somewhat." The pause as well as the undercurrent of unease in his voice is telling that there is more to that little report. He's continued to walk closer, can now see who is who, "Hello Borodin. Kimmila, Abby, nice flying." Even though he couldn't really make out specifics from way out by the camps. Kimmila's question to Th'ero swings his attention back to the Weyrleader with a hike of curious brows. There's more planned?

Th'ero holds Kimmila comfortably against his side and he smirks, but there is no missing the regret and desire in his eyes as he gazes at the now empty sky, still ablaze with color from the setting suns. "I was needed here to oversee other matters," he replies as he lowers his gaze and then chuckles dryly, "If you listen to the crowds, it may be far sooner than tomorrow. We shall see!" Apparently the bluerider isn't the only one who took great enjoyment out of that display! Flick of the eyes or no, it is still a greeting and Th'ero returns it with a nod of his head to Borodin, followed by a murmured, "Hello. Enjoy the reenactment?" He's just about to mention that Abigail may have been involved but the brownrider makes her own appearance and the Weyrleader only smiles crookedly. "Good flying on your and Niumdreoth's part too, Abigail!" Turning to D'ani again, his mood promptly sobers and a frown knits his brow. "I suppose that was oversight on our part not to warn them well before hand," Th'ero reflects in a quiet tone to the Weyrsecond. "And?" he presses in a voice now close to a whisper. He's suspicious now, but recalling where they currently stand, the Weyrleader soon adopts his previous good and lighthearted mood. "Of course there's more music and dancing!" he says, glancing sidelong to Kimmila. "For the final night, we may as well, right? Though the dances tonight are casual. Too fast for my tastes… or skills."

Kimmila smiles when Abigail arrives, nodding happily to her fellow threadfall rider. "Hey." Glancing at D'ani, her brows furrow. "That was good thinking on your part. I never even considered how it might look to them." Terrifying? No doubt. "Excellent. Casual sounds good to me. Fast…I don't know. Maybe they'll indulge us old folk with some slow ones," she teases her younger weyrmate.

Abigail smiles to Borodin and nods before she glances to the others. "Thanks, it was great. Though I get the feeling Niumdreoth had more fun than I did." The large brown warbles out seeming to agree with that comment. Hearing where about D'ani was she ponders the same question that Th'ero has brought up. "Dancing huh.." Yeah she'll just keep to the sidelines and watch!

Along the path from the landing field, K'drozen makes his way slwoly towards the gathered group. He hanging back a bit as he removes his helmet and tucks it lightly under his arm as he glances about at the gathered crowd.

"Uh, yes sir," Borodin says to Th'ero. "It was very…" now what's the word? "…impressive." Maybe extra so to those in the camps. He nods to D'ani, "Hello," and then his gaze turns to his sister once she's there, and he nods. "Well, uh, dragons are meant to fly thread, aren't they?" Borodin says with a smile, then glances to Niumdreoth and grins at that warble. "So it makes sense."

Zaala must have been in the crowd with popcorn (pernese equivalent), really, those blasts of flame had to be worth a fist full of kernels! But alas, she's without the particular snack, due to the fact that the kids dashing about her feet have promptly reduced her nibbling as most of it has spilt on the ground! How shameful. Not that the kids don't mind, she's trying to actually keep them from picking up the popped kernels from the ground and shoving them in their mouths. Too young to join in the 'ground crew' gathering, they've been dispatched on Zaala for the time being, since the girl has whatever duty she pulls from the headwomen. Nanny she is today, swatting at one little chubby boy whose going to put a full mouthful of soiled snacks in his mouth, "Ew no. Reynold! Don't! Drop those now." Swat! And cue the pouty face and the big watery eyes and the sudden WAIL. Sends chills down her back! She lowers herself to speak to him, "Shhh, listen, we'll get some more in a bit. Those are yuuuuckie, make you feel ickie too. Here, have what's left of mine." And it's a little goodie bag of salted treats. Phew. This is hard work. She smiles and ruffles his hair, spotting the other brat not but a few paces away, with that painted string in her hand. "Ooo noo, you got the thread!" And so this is how she's spent the better part of the afternoon, after the mud wrestling.

Dancing! D’ani can't manage the toss dance, but some of the folk dances, if it's more fancy footwork and leaping about, he knows those ones and can at least do the ones that don't require spinning a partner about. "Thanks Kimmila." Of the possible oversight, "That was taken care of, Sir." He lowers his voice to a murmur, "I went back out there after the mud wrestling, so they had fair warning of at least an hour's worth." His dark eyes flick to the nearby crowd and he double-takes then stifles a grinned eyeroll at the 'baby talk' coming from Zaala. He leans closer to mutter something to the Weyrleader. While he's speaking in that undertone, he spots K'drozen approaching and gives a little nod to the brownrider.

D'ani mutters to Th'ero, "… and uneasy… seeing… seemed… confirm… been… of the… vocal,… know… coming and why… out in… open to… it."

They're suspicious and uneasy yet, seeing flaming dragons and it seemed to confirm something they'd been told. When I asked one of the more vocal, he demanded to know when Thread is coming and why we're leaving them out in the open to be eaten by it.

Exciting for them and terrifying for others — quite the gap of reactions! Th'ero chuckles to Abigail, turning his head to catch a glimpse of Niumdreoth before focusing back on the brownrider. "Somehow I don't doubt that many of the dragons found this to be enjoyable. It's certainly not routine," he murmurs. Not anymore and not for a long, long time. "Good to know," he replies to Borodin. Impressive seems to be (one) of the right words? Oh Faranth, if there's a toss dance? Count Th'ero out or give him a few glasses of wine (and maybe one ale) and then count him in. Maybe. Kimmila's teasing remark has him shooting her a sidelong look and smirk as he snorts, "I'm not old but there are just some things I prefer to leave to others." he drawls before focusing back to D'ani as the Weyrsecond murmurs in a lowered voice. Nodding, he listens intently, having to strain to hear over the din of conversation around them. Somewhere from the direction of the lake, music begins to play — ambient sound, not cue for the dances. "Good. Thank you again, D'ani, for taking care of that." Still holding Kimmila close to his side, he leans in closer to the Weyrsecond as the young man begins to mutter. For a brief moment, Th'ero's expression is startled and then appalled, only to then fall swiftly under control beneath a heavy (if not slightly troubled) frown before he mutters his reply.

Th'ero mutters to D'ani, "… can… be? Has someone been… purposely… a frenzy… is this more… manipulation?"

"How can this be? Has someone been seeding false rumors to them to purposely stir them into a frenzy or is this more of Laris' lies and manipulation?"

Kimmila leans in a bit to try and hear D'ani and Th'ero's conversation. Eavesdropping? You bet she is, and not ashamed of it either. Though while she's trying to listen in she's watching Zaala with her nose wrinkled. "Wonder if Kyzen is here…" she mutters, mostly to herself. Spotting K'drozen, she gives him a nod and then smiles at Abigail and Borodin. "Varmiroth had a blast," she says with a chuckle.

Abigail catches only bits and pieces between the conversation that is going on with Th'ero and D'ani, though she is still rather curious. She nods to Kimmila. "I think it was more the fact that they got to fly around and blast flame more than the anything else." A glance is sent towards Zaala once she catches sight of her friend, a wave seen which is offered to K'drozen as she catches sight of him as well. Everyone is out and about now, which is a good thing for something like a festival.

K'drozen gives a slight smiles and nod to Kimmila as he catches her nod, and begins to approach the group, to Abigail as she waves, he says softly as he nears, "Wingsecond." as he glances up "That was pretty impressive."

Oh, look. There's important business being conducted between Th'ero and D'ani - at least, to judge from their expressions. That's Borodin's cue to sidle away from them, closer to Abigail. He nods a little to Kimmila, and says, "All the dragons look… happy." Not that they smile, exactly, but… maybe it's how they hold themselves? Or maybe he's just saying stuff now. He gives a little nod to K'drozen as the other comes near, and then looks out to the crowd to see the ground crews still finishing up - and Zaala, shepherding them along. He smiles and waves to her, in a moment when he guesses she can probably see him over shorter heads.

It's the little girl with the piece of painted string that ends up in Zaala's arms. Yes, the teen hugs the little girl to her, who wanted an 'uppie' as it were. She tucks her arm under the little's butt and has the girl hooked on a hip, looking pleased as she goes on and explains to the girl about the string, wiggling it and then pointing up to where the dragons -had- been. The little girl, Ylwana, shakes her head at something that Zaala says and refuses to take the string back, so Zaala tucks it away, before little Reynold pulls it out of her hand and starts to play with it instead, giving her back the snack treat bag. She rolls her eyes and is content to let the little tike amuse himself with the string. Preoccupied a little now in story telling, Zaala is pointing toward the dragons landing and telling a fancy tale about the big brave dragons to the two she's got under her wing. She might even see Abigail, to whom she gives a little smile, her eyes turning over the faces of the other people gathered, noticing the 'knots' again in discussion, all serious like and such. A little smile wouldn't hurt them! But it's the crowd she knows, who don't seem so foreboding over things that she yes, sheperds the couple she's looking after over toward. "Afternoon," a look to Abigail and then to K'drozen with his helmet, "Were you two up there? It was pretty amazing, from what I saw." There's a side glance to Borodin, "Hey toots." Ah, that must be his adopted pet name, too bad for him.

D'ani has heard it from Dremkoth, peeved at missing the chance to flame (again) but the bronze has enjoyed watching it despite his initial disappointment. "You're welcome," he nods to Th'ero. And indeed! SOMEone should press a few ales and coerce him into at least one of those dances. They're fun - like playing a game! He lowers his voice again, his murmured and grim answer to the Weyrleader's question, accompanied by a headshake. They're driving folks away with the somber muttering so he straightens up, adding, "We'll keep trying to find out." Then, because he heard her, he asks Kimmila with a grin, "Who's Kyzen? One of yours?"

D'ani mutters to Th'ero, "… the… but someone certainly believes… keep it fresh… about… them in… camps couldn't have come from Laris."

"I'm guessing Laris laid the groundwork, but someone certainly believes it enough to keep it fresh because the bit about keeping them in the camps couldn't have come from Laris."

"Kyzen is a bit young yet," Th'ero mutters under his breath to Kimmila, though his eyes do lift and gaze to where he heard a child wail moments ago and briefly do they settle on Zaala and the two children currently under her wing. A brief smile and then the Weyrleader's mood sobers again, despite his efforts not to revert back to his stoic and neutral behavior. "Perhaps there will be an encore then, if the dragons took to it so keenly. Might not be this night though." Since the sun is setting rapidly now and it would be awfully hard to see. Maybe the entertainment of the night WILL be the dances! Alas, there is no wine or ale in Th'ero's hand and so it will be a long time yet before he'd be anywhere near in a state to be coerced into fun dancing. Aware that their muttering is earning them some curious looks, the Weyrleader straightens as well and nods briskly to D'ani, "We will. For now though, we have the end of a festival to enjoy," he murmurs but with a pointed look to the Weyrsecond. This will have to be discussed further! But in private. As Kyzen's name is mentioned again, but directed to Kimmila, Th'ero only chuckles and ducks his head to the side to regard the bluerider curiously for her answer. Or is that pride? Meanwhile, the crowds are drifting all around them now that the mock Threadfall display has wrapped up and no encore follows. Conversation drifts and folks of all ranks and ages mingle, laughing or talking animatedly amongst themselves. Fingerfoods are served, as well as a constant flow of drinks and in crowds this large it is easy for anyone to slip in and out unnoticed. Weyrbrats run by, their shrieks and laughter adding to the din and earning a few amused looks from the adults nearby as they go trailing off towards the lake. Music continues to drift from that direction and overall things are peaceful and festive — all that one should expect!

Kimmila looks curiously between the two men, but she doesn't press. She's quite confident Th'ero will let her know what's up later. Then at D'ani's question, she smiles. "Kyzenviro is our son," she says. "He's…what." And she looks at Th'ero. "He's not two yet, is he?" As things progress merrily and more folks drift towards the lake and the final evening of the dance, there's a subtle shift near the exit tunnel. Nothing big, (no explosions), and nothing obvious, but it's clear that a ripple of discontent and unease is beginning to shift through the crowd. Whispers of 'them' and 'what are /they/ doing here'? are heard as people scurry past, glancing over their shoulders. And surely it doesn't help ease things either when a pair of guards jog by, hands on their swords. And then there's a scream.

Abigail isn't going to offer or ask anything about getting someone to dance, there is only one person that can manage to get her to dance and he isn't here at the moment. "Hey Borodin… Go ask Zaala for a dance if she can escape the little ones for a few moments." Heck she would even offer to watch them if Borodin actually did such a thing! She can't help but grin while peering over at her brother a moment and then looks to K'drozen with a nod. "It was great.. I mean I'm glad we're not really having to do that but still." The thrill of it more than anything. Then there is something going on, a glance is sent towards the movement of the guards and then there is a scream that is caught easily. With a frown she turns to follow after the guards to see what is going on. Did anyone really expect her not to follow after that?

K'drozen nod and says, 'I know exactly what you mean Abigail, I wouldn't want to actually fly it. I would if it came to…." he trails off at the gaurds rushing by and the scream and falls in just behind his wingsecond following behind the gaurds closely, his expression going flat and unreadable.

Who, him? Borodin's eyes widen at Abbey's suggestion. "But, uh, she's busy." See, there's the small children. They've totally got her busy. No way she could get free, nope. Noooope. And here Zaala is! "Uhm, hey," Borodin says to her. He does not argue with his new name. Or maybe it's a title? Yeah, that's it! He can be important and have a title. …if only the title was more dignified than 'toots'. Oh, well. He's been called worse. He looks at the kids, smiling to them - hello, little excuses why he can't be expected to ask Zaala to dance - then back up at her. "Are you, uh, enjoying yourself?" he asks… and then there's a scream. Borodin blinks, turning around to look for it, but he doesn't follow. Nope. He just looks for where it was so he can stay safely away!

Zaala is totally not paying attention to those dark brooding types with big serious faces and knots, why should she? She's only got the two little tikes as responsibilities tonight and that's as far as her worry goes. Tomorrow is another day, with different worries. She still holds onto Ylwana, the little girl starting to doze off in her arms, suckling on her thumb. She can't be more than three turns old, perhaps younger, for how small she is. The chubby boy, Rey, is at her side, side glancing suspiciously at the other weyrbrats darting by, not sure if he wants to follow or not in the big old chase happening. But Zaala's hand to his head pushes that idea out of it, since she's ensuring he's keeping near her, like a good little lad. She's there beside Borodin and K'drozen, turning her gaze to Borodin, "Yes, we are. All those snacks today, little Reynold has-" The scream catches Zaala's attention much like the majority of the people crowded around, interrupting anything else on the agenda. Her green dusted eyes lifting up from petting Reynold's hair down, a sense of dread filling her, "Did someone burn themselves? What's going on? Who fell off the wagon drunk again? I mean really, with that cavern full of pillows no one should be hitting their head." This, this is her nervous talk, ensuring to keep the little boy at her side, even as the crowd shuffles toward the action, threatening to sweep them up in it. Rubber necking do gooders! And there goes Abigail, well, at least they all know what to do, watching as K'drozen joins in. Her eyes worriedly track to Borodin, did they really just all rush forward and leave her, er, them there like that! Leave it to the little brat to suddenly bolt forward in that game he was meaning to play earlier… "Hey hey… Reynold, -get- back here… Totally not the time to do this!" And she's balancing little Ylwara while trying to snatch onto Reynold.

"Oh. Kyzen…viro." D'ani coughs. "I knew that, yeah." What? He thought Kimmila might have a Kzyen and a Kyzenviro? Stranger things have happened at Weyrs. That pointed look from Th'ero is caught and a nod acknowledges it. He eases back a few steps and even though the crowd is boisterous and thick, the milling activity might seem off-putting (at least to him), he says brightly, "Sooo. Dancing! Who's up for some? Abbey? Th'ero? An encore minus the mud?" Grin. Then the scream has him tensing right back up. And Greaaat! There goes Abigail running into danger, he might have known. He lifts his voice to call after her, "LET THE GUARDS…" His voice dwindles to a disgruntled mutter, "…handle… nevermind." Sigh. With an eyeroll shared with Weyrleader and Weyrthird, he says facetiously fatalistic, "Here we go again with the rescuing." And he starts trotting off after her.

Th'ero will undoubtedly tell Kimmila what was discussed so quietly between himself and D'ani. For now though, the Weyrleader is intent on enjoying the festival and keeping to discussions that are as light and carefree as the atmosphere around them. Not the best of tactics, perhaps, but one has to learn, right? "Just about two," he says, looking back to Kimmila with a small smile. He gives D'ani a puzzled look, one brow quirking up when the Weyrsecond corrects himself but allows it to slide with a light chuckle. "No way you'll get me into those toss dances. I'm afraid I'm better as a spectator. I'd not mind some wine though…" Hint, hint? That ripple of discontent and unease is slow to sink in and it is not until Velokraeth, from his perch above, gives the necessary nudge that the Weyrleader requires to takes notice. By then, just as he is aware of something amiss, it is already too late. The guards, the folk scurrying past and then the scream. That has him swearing under his breath and instantly his hand goes for his sword — only to remember he does not have it strapped to his hip. There wasn't supposed to be a need for it. Scowling, D'ani's protest to Abigail diving into danger has his eyes tracking her and then K'drozen is on her tail. Glancing sharply to Kimmila, he jerks his head in their direction and his expression is grim. So much for his good mood. The Weyrsecond's departure is swiftly joined by the Weyrleader hot on his heels. "There better be a good explanation for this!" he says, temper already beginning to rise. Now there is tension in the air, mixed with the lingering festive mood as confusion seeps in. Some of the crowd presses forwards, seeking to get as far away from the trouble as possible but are met with resistance by those intent on gawking or lingering or simply trying to ignore the disruption. Poor Zaala will have to work fast to keep Rey from being swallowed up by the swarm of people!

The Weyrwoman has been around, but, simply hiding amongst the crowd. Not really, Dtirae has been overseeing things and being drawn from place to place without much of a chance to really mingle. So, of course when she finally gets free and is about to join with people she actually wants to be around, there's a scream and guards running off and the other leaders. Well, the woman is certainly left confused and a little dazed even! But, her hand is resting on the hilt of her dagger, nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

Kimmila is only wearing her dagger out of habit, and since she was flying earlier. With a frown to Th'ero, she darts off close on his heels, giving none-too-friendly nudges aside to anyone who gets in her way as they approach the exit tunnel. And the scene is tense and a bit chaotic, but after a moment two sides emerge. The guards, of course, with weapons drawn and blocking the forward progress of a group of older teenagers. The teens are dressed in patched clothes, but freshly washed and fiercely proud. Clearly the best items of clothing they could come up with for the party. One youth, tall and slender with slicked back blonde hair, is arguing with one of the Guards. "We've every right to be here!"
"No you don't," the Guard argues back. "Y'all aren't allowed in the weyr."
"We're not criminals!"
"That has yet to be seen!"
His three male friends bristle and shift forward, anger burning in their eyes, the situation at a tipping point. Behind the males though stand two females, clinging to each other with eyes wide, as one twitches the hem of her skirt and looks nervously at one of the guards surrounding them. "We just wanted to come to the party," she says softly, fearfully. "Just to dance and hear music again…"

"Rey! Rey-NOLD" Zaala calls after the little brat whose slipped away at the worst possible moment to chase after something, maybe it's another piece of mock thread he saw on the ground, or more popcorn, whatever it was, she's stirred Ylwana now, who is protesting to the movements. Zaala forgets about the 'knots running toward the danger, if there is any to be had and someone didn't just roll their bloody ankle. Instead, she's losing sight of Rey as he's more able to weave and twist around people's legs, where as she has to push a little to get where she wants and gets pushed back a few times, having to scold whoever does with an 'well I never' … sort of tone, putting her hand to the back of Ylwana's head as she continues to search for the boy. "Shells Reynold—" muttering a few other things behind her sealed lips, cheeks burning from the frustration of losing the chubby scamp in all this. She spots him near the edge of the excitement, moving to him with some relief showing, he didn't get -too- far.

Whatever it is that little Reynold has done will have to remain a mystery, at least for now. Borodin's eyes search the crowd, but he's not having much luck at first. "The flaming was over…" Maybe a brat clung to his flamethrower? "But…" Who knows? Not him. He looks back to Zaala. Yep, here they are - abandoned! Just the soft squishies left back here. "It's, uhm, it'll be okay." His sister'll take care of things! Oh, and the rest of the guards and everyone too, of course, but… he glances out into the crowd after Abbey, only to catch a glimpse instead of little Reynold making a break for it. "Oh, uh," and Borodin lurches after the kid. Zaala's got her arms full, after all, and surely even Borodin can manage to wrangle one kid? Or at least grab his arm and keep him from running headfirst into possible danger. Easier than mud wrestling, right? Hah, only if you don't know much about small children, but at least Borodin gives it a try. Grab and… miss! And try to run after him and… miss again! Shards, small children are fast! How do they even do this? And in all this crowd, too! Huff, puff, he gives chase, ending up converging back with Zaala and… oh. Uh. This is noooot where he meant to be. Oops? He tries again with that 'get a hold of Reynold thing'. Maybe the boy will stop and stare for long enough to let him.

Abigail heard that bit about the mud, and she would be commenting on it but well really she is trying to see what has caused all the crazyness it seems. Though she isn't planning on needing any rescuing, not that anyone really does plan on such things. Once she has caught up to the guards she pauses, watching from her spot, a slight frown seen as she catches sight of the ones there and then what is being said. Though to prove she is not about to get into the middle of things she hangs back listening. Her gaze flicks towards Kimmila and Th'ero once they make their way to the group, well here would be the person that can perhaps help in this matter.

K'drozen comes up along side the gaurds quickly the guard. His hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. His eyes darting between the teens before them. Speaking in a low voice he says softly, "Now everyone calm it down here. Coming up with that kind of attitude will not get you into the party." standing in a fighting stance, the large brown rider watches the trouble makers closely.

Go for an ear, Borodin! Kids have 'proximity radar' everywhere else. Oooh, there's Dtirae! As D'ani passes her, he loses none of his momentum, but snags her hand on the fly with the one on his good arm and says in an undertone, "C'mon Tough Girl. Someone probably needs their ass kicked." It's a semi-humorous invitation couched in a wry long-suffering tone as he attempts to tow her along to wherever they are going. The ones running into danger in front of him halt before he's expecting and he skids to a stop, gripping the Weyrwoman's hand so she doesn't go splat. That would be bad - not to mention his fault. Oh and NOW Abby hangs back. Better late than never? D'ani breathes a little sigh of relief. Someone up there? Thank you, even if I forgot to ask you for help!

It won't be Th'ero's ass who needs kicking this time, at least? Though the Weyrleader certainly looks ready to knock (several) heads together. And here they were doing so well! His brisk stride comes to an abrupt halt as well as his narrowed gaze size up both sides: the guards and then the holdless. Youths. That has some of the tension leaving his posture, but his temper remains. "At ease." he commands to the Guards, gesturing for them to sheath or lower their weapons. Still at ready, but not nearly as threatening. He overheard some of the exchange and grimaces, realizing now that too many have seen the confrontation and likely heard enough. So what now? Try to cover it all up? No, it's too late for that. Th'ero does try to work some quick damage control however, turning to mutter to the nearest Guard. The man nods and then turns, holding his hands up and gesturing to the assembled crowd. Nothing to see here, back away, go to the lake and enjoy the evening! Everything is fine. Despite the Guards effort, some folk slip by that net and can linger to witness the rest of this conflict. Especially someone as small and wee and easily overlooked as an errant child. Now there are no Guards standing between the holdless youths and everyone else, though Th'ero shows little fear or apprehension as he stands squarely in the middle. He'll pin that blonde haired youth as the ringleader and his anger is undeniable in the level and firmness of his voice. "How did you leave the camps? Do you have any idea of what you have done?" he asks him, though his gaze shifts to the others, including the fearful young women. Truly, this has put them all in a very awkward position. Publicly too, just to pour more salt into the wound.

Dtirae is snagged by a passing D'ani, the commentary earning a soft chuckle from the Weyrwoman. "Let's hope not. I'd rather avoid an incident." At least she isn't completely driven to get into a fight! She allows him to tow her to wherever he's going, likely to the trouble. When he comes to a stop, the woman returns the tight grip on his hand so she doesn't topple over at the suddenness of it all. There's a glance towards Abigail, then to D'ani before the woman carefully attempts to extract her hand from D'ani's. Though, Th'ero seems to be handling the situation and she doesn't try to jump up to take over.

Zaala is thankful that Borodin is there nearby to help her with the situation, pointing with her free hand toward where Reynold has snuck to, "Boro-there-quickly before he…" before he gets into more trouble or escapes them again - though indeed the errant child has gone unnoticed amongst all the guards with swords and the hustling of folks back to the lake. Though the chubby little fellow doesn't appear to be going any further right then, while the world seems to be exploding in tension around him. Little Reynold is picking up one of the mock thread pieces, successfully lofting it high above him and dangling the other beside it. How in the world did he see it? Oh he must've watched it lazily tumble down from a higher tower or something like that, either way, the kid's hoarding the stuff, nearby the group of holdless. Ylwana is fussing in Zaala's arms, so she tries to sooth the girl, rubbing her back, hoping that Borodin will go the final mile to snatch Reynold for her. But even if he doesn't, maybe he can distract the guards trying to clear the area so she can slip on by? See if they can hold back this lower cavern's girl from getting her charges back where they belong. The stubborness of her bloodline shows through, slipping through the net, waving Borodin to follow incase the kid goes the other way of her advance. Zaala finally takes notice of the situation, eyeing the group of youths being scolded by the Weyrleader, oh so glad she's not involved in this. Her task, get Reynold and get out, "Didn't someone give them the memo about smiling and fun…f-e-s-t-i-v-a-l going on…" this muttered back to Borodin, if he's snuck through with her to corral the kid.

Kimmila stands solidly by Th'ero's side, her hand on her dagger though she doesn't draw it. The guards do as the Weyrleader orders, lowering their weapons though still fixing the holdless youth with firm gazes. The blonde in the middle jerks up his chin, standing tall and proud. "We snuck out," he says, flippant and proud. "You all've been having a party and leaving us outside the weyr walls like a bunch of criminals. Beggars. Refugees." Which they are, technically, but it /irks/ this young man and his companions. "We just want to dance with our ladies and have some good food and drink, and have /fun/." That meek young woman blushes furiously and dips her head at Th'ero's words, shaking it slightly. "Begging your pardon, sir, I knew we should've asked but we were sure the answer would be no and we didn't want to cause a scene, just to mingle a bit and be out of them camps…"

Oh, yeah, Borodin's snuck through to help Zaala. He used his 'harmless lump' face on the guards, the one that works great up until it doesn't. At least it's gotten him this far, not that he's entirely happy about that fact. He fakes out Reynold by acting like he's going for the ear, then settling down at the last second on the boy's shoulder. Thump. "…got you…" he mutters, and then glances to Zaala. His fingers don't loosen from the boy's shoulder - in fact, as he looks up and takes in the sight of the holdless before them, his grip on Reynold tightens. Faranth and flame, what is he doing here? He's on the wrong side of these guards! And… he frowns. "…it's not their fault," he mutters back to Zaala. "It's just… … …things suck. Sometimes." Borodin stares at the young man who's acting at ringleader for a moment before frowning again and dropping his gaze to Reynold.
Abigail has arrived.

"Yeah? Things suck…" she stares at Borodin then at the youths, "But what's the harm in letting them dance-" see, Zaala hasn't picked up the latest edition of the harper news, well, at least where Laris and the camp holdless go. It's not her place to care, that's up to the Weyrleaders and such. She looks over at the youths as she wanders up beside Borodin, who has thankfully caught a hold of Reynold, "They don't look so bad. He's not bad looking either-" she states about the ringleader, rough and tumble sort, all devil-may-care, steamy! It takes something big to stand up to the Weyrleader like that. She's not viewing them as evil, nope. Instead, with Ylwana in her arms, she hisses down at Reynold, "You shouldn't run off like that."

D'ani feels the tugging of Dtirae's hand and belatedly loosens his grasp on it, not that he forgot he had it. A sidelong look at her reveals she isn't wobbling or going to fall over from their sudden stop, so he won't be needed to catch her before she faceplants. Still, he is slow to allow her hand to slip from his grasp even as his gaze sweeps the teens - and the encircling folk to check that no one save the guards have weapons. Once assured that no one is threatening harm to anyone and Abigail isn't about to be skewered (okay so the cliff thing has given him nightmares since), he relaxes enough to hear the holdless teens' plight - and try not to eyeroll at K'drozen's querulous reprimand of them. He might disagree with Zaala about standing up to the Weyrleader taking something big (stupid is more what he's thinking), but he catches himself beginning to nod at her sentiment about them dancing being harmless. Nevertheless, he'll stand by decisions made, and thus he steps closer to where Th'ero is, coughs and asks quietly, "Sir… might be acceptable to bring some harpers and food out to them? So this four aren't accused by their folk of being given unfair favors by us?"

Abigail sends a glance back towards D'ani, a slight 'what' look is clearly seen. She wasn't going to get into trouble, but she couldn't just hang back and not try and see what could be going on in case someone needed help too. The comments are caught and her gaze turns back to the holdless, a soft frown seen while she takes in what is said. "I heard that Zaala." This said with a soft amused tone to the girl that isn't too far off from her, a faint grin seen. As for that cliff thing Abbey has plenty of nightmares now thanks to it, not that she would ever agree to that. Hearing D'ani talk on bring some harpers out to them she nods while looking to Th'ero. "I'd.. Be willing to give them a lift out there."

K'drozen notices D'ani's look at his comment but continues to watch the group of holdless warrilly though he does stand just behind the gaurd, his stance relaxing somewhat though he does stay at the ready, his hand drifts away from his knife. Awaiting the weyrleaders descison on the things.

Truthfully most, if not a large portion of the holdless currently in the camp are harmless but it is difficult to prove that when those that aren't so harmless are trying to remain hidden among the groups. Th'ero glances sharply over his shoulder to quickly spot D'ani and Dtirae behind him and then over to where Abigail stands at his other side and a little aways. With Kimmila solid at his side, he forces himself to relax enough that his hand no longer rests close to the hilt of his dagger. It likely creeped up there by sheer habit (and lingering nightmares of his own) and he straightens his shoulders, gaze now resting level and firm, not quite as narrowed on the holdless youth. "You are refugees," he states flatly, the Weyrleader not about to skirt around the obvious. More would have been said, but the meek young woman speaks up and Th'ero turns his focus on her and for a split second his eyes flicker with a sympathetic look before his features turn cool and reserved. "Sneaking out of the camps without permission has caused a scene," he remarks, only to fall silent as D'ani approaches with the quiet spoken suggestion. Th'ero frowns heavily and glances sidelong to Kimmila and then over to where the Weyrwoman may still stand. "What other choice do we have?" he mutters. "What they request is impossible and… unwise. Not everyone will welcome them, youth or no." Abigail's offer has the Weyrleader nodding his head to signal that he has heard her and then his gaze drifts to K'drozen and he speaks softly but commanding all the same. "Stand down. They are no threat." Clearly. Zaala, Borodin and the sneaky Reynold have so far escaped the Weyrleader's notice — for now.

Kimmila lets her own hand move away from her dagger hilt, green eyes darting to each person in turn, though they mostly rest on the youths. She doesn't say anything, narrowed gaze drifting, mind working to assess any loopholes or possible dangers with this situation - and the apparent solution.
The youth in charge glances briefly at Zaala but then jerks his head up, eying her with distain. She is of the weyr and therefore of no interest to him. Looking solidly back at the leaders of Fort, he stands his ground, not moving when the girl behind him speaks up. Then he snorts. "We don't need your handouts." Actually, they kind of do. "Wouldn't have /been/ a scene if we hadn't gotten caught. We was going to slip in, dance, enjoy ourselves, and slip out again. We're out there beyond the walls in yet another prison while you all harbor that traitor Rayathess. Where is he, anyway? Feasting away? Dancing with some greenrider wench?"

K'drozen notices the youths glance towards towards Zaala and frowns slightly steping slightly toward her and between the her and holdless.

Zaala is busy dealing with Reynold, trying to yank the dirty piece of painted string from his hand, so she thankfully misses the disdainful look, otherwise it's in all likelihood she would've stomped on over and told him a thing or two. Maybe. Doubtful. But she could've at least stuck her tongue out at him. Instead she's lifting her eyes back to the scene moments after he gives her that dirty look and goes on talking big to the Weyrleaders. For now, they're best staying where they are, somewhat off to the side, caught in the middle of guards and the smoldering youths who're baying for their rights. To Borodin, "Rayathess…" her eyes blink over at him, "I think I met him once, he was…sensitive." Yes, that's the way to put it. Easily offended, rude, snarky! All those things. Hrm, but she decides on sensitive. Yes, that'll do.

What's the harm? Borodin just shrugs. He doesn't know. He has not a single ear in the councils of the powerful! …or in the holdless camp, either. For the moment, he stays quiet fly on the wall and half-watches the conversation… and keeps a grip of Reynold, who's really not that repentant, especially not when there are interesting things he doesn't entirely understand going on. It's okay, though, Borodin doesn't entirely understand them either. "I never met him," he says to Zaala, with a little shake of his head, and looks up again at the young holdless, watching them.

When D'ani's grip loosens on her hand, Dtirae is giving the bronzerider a slight smile before completely withdrawing and stepping in closer to the Weyrleader and Kimmila. She's still a step behind, but, she is now close enough to see the youth that have caused the commotion. The Weyrwoman wears an emotionless mask, hiding her thoughts behind a simple gaze as she examines them.

D'ani is all innocence in returning Abigail's puzzled look. He's trying to keep the 'Big Brother' protectiveness under wraps. Not succeeding so very well, is he? He flicks a glance at K'drozen, still working on not being irked with the rider, when the brownrider steps between the youth and Zaala, stifling a sigh at the unnecessary move. The guards and Th'ero are enough to quell this small group of holdless, and he refrains from glaring at or chiding the teens himself. In fact, he's got a hint of a smile lurking about his mouth, an understanding glimmer in the brown eyes that rest upon the group. "Aye forbidden fruits and all that? The thrill of trying not to get caught, of getting away with it." He was in their shoes once! When the name of Rayathess is called into question, D'ani maintains his temper. This is neither the time nor place to keep a scene going with so many ears and eyes affixed on the tableau. His eyes flash, but he keeps his voice casual, "Ignorance can be excused, but the man is no traitor." It's a nice way to put, 'You don't know wth you're talking about'? Arguing whether they're staying or going when it isn't their decision to make is pointless, so he says nothing about what they do and don't need, instead he turns to Th'ero and Dtirae and offers, "Dremkoth and I will help too, if you'd like."

Abigail lifts a hand to try and rest is lightly against K'drozen's arm, her pale gaze moving to watch him to show that it is alright. "K'drozen." Is murmured softly to get her point across. As for D'ani she isn't use to anyone trying to be a 'Big Brother' bit with her, she normally was the one watching over her brother so perhaps that is why she is finding it a bit strange? Her gaze flicks back towards the youth that is talking, a brow lifting, a slight frown seen. "He is not a traitor." This is said with a soft yet firm tone when Rayathess name is brought up, seems D'ani and her are on the same page there. A slight shake of her head is seen. "Then do not consider them handouts, consider them a gift as everyone should be able to have some fun from the festival?" Her tone is gone, replaced with a slight smile now.

Rayathess is certainly easily offended and snarky, for his own reasons and mercifully the hold-heir is not present or there may very well have been a brawl on their hands. Who knows where the young man is. Hiding, no doubt or lurking somewhere a little less crowded than the lake shore and southern bowl. Certainly not dancing OR in the company of a greenrider wench or, well… any female. Th'ero almost laughs for the youth's flippant remark and stubbornness, but keeps that firmly under control along with his temper. The Weyrleader is of like minds with the Weyrsecond in hoping not to cause more disruption and a bigger scene. Bad enough gossip of this brief encounter will be talk of the night. As Rayathess' name is dragged into the thick of things, his eyes narrow again but it's D'ani who takes the words straight out of his mouth, leaving him to only nod, mouth set into a grim and tight line. "Rayathess is of no concern of yours." Th'ero goes on to add, pinning the youths again beneath his gaze. Shall we try this again? "As much as we would wish to allow you to join, we cannot and that is for your safety. Do you think no one will notice you? Some may take sympathy and agree and others, whether intentional or not, won't. It is a delicate situation and this… stunt of yours will not help matters. We are not offering handouts. Merely an alternative." Or a gift, as Abigail goes on to say which earns a pointed (but thankful) look from Th'ero. The Weyrleader turns to Kimmila and Dtirae then and includes D'ani too into that sweeping look. All decisions final? "We could use all the help we can get." he agrees in a low tone.

Kimmila stiffens, bristling at the teen's brazen attitude, but she keeps herself in check. For once. Someone mark the calendar. "Whatever," she finally says dismissively, with a little shrug. Though she does look at the teens. "You understand what they're saying? People might attack you here, physically, verbally…and that is not something we want."
The teen scoffs, shaking his head and holding up his hands. "Fine. Whatever. A cage is a cage, no matter how you garnish it with food and harpers." The girl in the back speaks up again, looking ever so longingly at the dance floor. "Even if we didn't tell anyone who we were?" she whispers, almost too soft to be heard, the longing in her voice almost palpable."

Dtirae breaks her own silence to stare at the girl who's spoken. She certainly heard the comment, "you would stick out like a sore thumb in a Weyr. Those who were born in a Weyr and those who have come to live in a Weyr for a period of time all act a certain way. With no integration, you'd stand out and you all would become subject to acts of violence. Not just with words." The Weyrwoman states, plainly, without any sort of harshness or humor in her tone. "And, there would be no guarantee that the guards would manage to get to your aid in time to help." Or, if the guard would even assist. If they didn't like the holdless, it is possible they'd act as if they were too slow to make it. One cannot predict every action of another.

Zaala is trying to not to listen in on all the conversation, which is rather easily to do with the burbling of a child in her arms. She has to settle Ylwana on the ground now, her arms a little too tired from holding onto the girl for sometime. And with the said distraction of the youths from some prison camp, Borodin's grip might have weakened, allowing Reynold to worm his way out! And suddenly it's become a game of catch me if you can! The little tike makes an innocent giggle and starts running toward the holdless. He's four maybe five turns old, old enough to get into mischief! Zaala eeps a little and jumps after him with only a split second decision to say over to Borodin, "Watch -her-" and a point to Ylwana, whose a little angel, big eyed and baffled by all the commotion. For Zaala, this means dashing toward the youths, arms out to frantically reach for Reynold, who gleefully avoids his shirt being snagged to rip around one of the holdless girl's legs! "Pretty lady!" the young lad points and goes to duck under those patchwork skirts. Oh dear. Zaala shoos at him, beckoning with her hands, "Let her be Reynold!" Oh Zaala's cheeks are scarlet red at this point, interrupting such a -serious- conversation, her gaze flickering up to the girl in the back, "I'm sorry, he's a little charmer already." A look to Reynold and a stern point, "Over here child, this instant." Annnnnd go figure, the boy doesn't listen, sticking his tongue out and darting around the next set of legs. Zaala makes a furious little 'ooo' sound, "Come back here." She's so going to get mucking duties for a Turn!

For all that Borodin doesn't seem happy about everything the weyrleadership is saying, he can't help but nod at Dtirae's words. How odd was it for him when he first got here? …and he was born and raised at a Hold not much distant. "…shells, sometimes I still don't fit," he mutters, and gives a slow shake of his head. Maybe it's sad thoughts that are making his grip loosen? And who thought it was a good idea to put Borodin in (temporary, second (third?) hand) charge of a child, anyhow? "What? He-" just slipped out! "Shards!" goes Borodin, thus further proving he shouldn't be watching the kids, and makes a failed snatch for Reynold before looking up at Zaala with wide eyes. Her? But… uh… He looks down at Ylwana, meeting those big sweet eyes, and swallows. He glances at the cluster of youths - no, this is so not going to be fast, and then… Borodin drops to one knee next to Ylwana, and pats her shoulder awkwardly before putting an arm around her. She's not going to get away! …please?

D'ani can well imagine the tough Abigail would find his watch-care odd indeed! He's probably hoping she's too wrapped up (in errrr… stuff!) to notice. He flashes her a pleased look when she speaks up in defense of Rayathess, nodding in agreement with both Weyrleaders on decisions being made final. Regretfully they do not belong here; it's a recipe for disaster. "Cage if you will," he says matter-of-factly, "and unfortunately a necessary one. It's… temporary." Aaaand he'll avoid going into the whys of that; they're all sick of talking about Laris by now. He too, makes a grab for the little boy as he darts towards the holdless teens but misses. That wince? Not for the child but for what Zaala might say or do to further irritate the lot of disgruntled young people. No one is going to mistake her for Miss Tact. To the pleading young lady he'll try another track to diffuse the situation, "Would you like a ride back to camp on my dragon?" It might not replace dancing but the offer is made nonetheless.

Abigail catches the look from Th'ero, a soft eh escaping her which is mostly kept to herself, well she was trying to help the situation, really! Maybe help a bit? Possible. Her pale gaze flicks to the fleeing child that is moving towards the holdless and a soft sigh escapes her. "The weyrwoman is right.. This is for yer safety." There have to take it as they are not going to get to stay. "We can split ye up and a few can go with D'ani and a few with me on me dragon." Or she can go round up a few Harpers and see about getting some things to take over instead. As for the boy trying to clinging to the girl she just peers at him. Hopefully she won't have a fear of children or something.

Th'ero is silent while Kimmila and Dtirae add their comments to the holdless youths, though the Weyrleader grimaces for the picture painted concerning the reactions of the Fortian weyrfolk. Realizing that they have put everyone in such a negative light or even made it seem a threat, he speaks again but in a lower tone, "Not all would rebuff you. Most would either welcome or turn a blind eye. But as the Weyrwoman said, you would be known just from your behavior. It is for your best interest to stay at the camps for now. And sometimes," his gaze slowly shifts from the young girl to the youth in charge again and he smirks, "The cage is the safest and wisest place to be." Which is then echoed by D'ani and the Weyrleader nods his head in agreement to the Weyrsecond's words. Temporary, indeed. Th'ero straightens then, taking a slow and steadying breath as he calms his growing frustration towards the holdless youths, only to stare in baffled surprise as a child (a child?) runs straight for the skirts of the young girls. Surprise gives way to annoyance now and poor Zaala will get the brunt of a narrowed glare and there is no mistaking the silent and implied message in his eyes. What is she doing and she is best to get that errant child and get away before the fragile situation shatters apart. If it hasn't already! D'ani's attempt to snare Reynold is met with a grimace, one he turns then to Dtirae and Kimmila. What now? Th'ero is awful with children, worse so than adults and so the bronzerider makes no attempt to step into coming to poor Zaala (or Borodin's!) aid. His excuse could be that his focus lays elsewhere and there is truth in that! Abigail's offer has him frowning, but as D'ani steps forwards with the same, he only shakes his head and then makes a small gesture of agreement. "I'll leave it to you two then if they accept transport back. If not, they will be escorted on foot. We can oversee sending Harpers, food and drink in the meantime." Simple enough, right? Maybe not.

The teen bristles, staring at the Weyrwoman in thinly veiled disgust. "This is the type of weyr you run? Where there is a guarantee of attack on outsiders? Even in Laris' camps violence towards another member was not tolerated!" Or so he claims. Dark eyes flick to Th'ero as the Weyrleader elaborates, but the damage has been done. When Reynold darts forward, the meek girl in the back tries to bend down, but he slips from her grasp and instead ends up scooped into the arms of the blonde boy. For a moment he looks to be struggling with something - he now has something precious - but he's not a hardened criminal despite his attitude. Not a man who would use a child as a hostage. So he wordlessly offers the boy back, but not without a sneer to Zaala. "Keep your kid under control." Her kid, clearly, as she lives in a weyr and thus is a slut. At D'ani's offer the girl gasps, shocked but flattered and she is about to say yes when the leader rounds on her with a harsh frown. "NO. You will /not/ be taken advantage of." Maybe he is mistaking the meaning of 'ride my dragon'. And the girl, as expected, dips her head and meekly submits, hands clasped. "We'll walk," the teen says, voice angry and clipped, as he turns to go.

Annnnd children go running by, but, that doesn't phase the Weyrwoman. Her gaze is locked clearly on her primary target: the teens. They are the greatest threat, at the moment. Though, it isn't safe to say that the child and his warden aren't noted in some shape or form. Instead, she's listening to the complaints that the bristling teen makes. If only she cared for the comments of the youth, then maybe he would get a reaction! The Weyrwoman gives a shake of her head. "I run my Weyr as it should be, but, despite the rules and regulations that are in place you cannot control the fools who deem they are more important than such things… As you've so clearly demonstrated here tonight." And with that, they are dismissed into D'ani's care with a simple nod in his direction before she's turning a gaze onto Zaala. This time, she has a bit more emotion and a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Perhaps being a nanny isn't quite in your future? Make sure he doesn't get himself too badly hurt."

Son of a…! The little Reynold is causing her so much embarrassment! All those guards and big old knot types, yes old, looking at her. Cheeks flushed, she's aware of the conversation now that she's in the thick of it, aware of the tension and the possible danger. "If she hears of this, I'm dead…" this muttered outloud, she, being, well, the headwoman, who is much more fearsome than the Weyrleader and the Weyrwoman, right? But, the chasing is winding down, as the holdless lass attempts to scoop him up, missing, which earns a benevolent smile from Zaala all the same, "Almost, he's squirmy this one, for such a chubby tike." Lalala. She'll just step right after Reynold, only to stop dead in her tracks when that blond boy picks up the kid and, contemplates something. Her breath comes back to her when the child is offered, drawing back the proud looking Reynold, all smiles and cheeky grins. Zaala's tone is warm, "Thank you for catching him," a beat, tilting her head, to study the blond boy, flustering a little about it being -her- kid, "His name's Reynold." How can she refute that it wasn't her's, that's just awkward, instead, "He's the Weyr's child, we -all- play a part to look after our own." Her eyes squint at toward the ringleader of this circus, snapping at the meek girl, lowering Reynold just then, but holding his little hand. It's Reynold that waves toward the meek girl, giving Zaala the excuse to step forward, maybe to offer something quietly and quickly before anyone takes notice, while the angry teen leader guy turns to go, "Things will be okay." From one girl to the next? A quiet smile. Then of course, as she gathers Reynold out of the immediate situation, she catches the tail end of Th'ero's glare and Dtirae's amusement, flushing, "Yes ma'am." Exit stage left, shuffle step, pull little Reynold along.

Borodin will just stay back here, yep. He's watching Ylwana and keeping his mouth shut. Hopefully Zaala will get back soon, because while she may not have a great future as a nanny… he's pretty sure he's got even less of one!

D'ani is stalking carefully towards the youths, his attempt plain: he's after the child, not them. To Zaala: "If you flush him out, I'll head him off…" Yeah right. They could use a net about now. Too bad he doesn't have his lasso. The conversation between the blonde boy and the Weyrleaders rolls back and forth over his head much like the proverbial Old Earth tennis match until the child is snagged and handed back to Zaala. Then there's a strangled noise from the bronzerider - is that a snort of laughter or a cough? - at the assumption that the kid is Zaala's. Just how old do they think women of the Weyr can conceive anyway?! D'ani steps back, his chest only heaving a wee bit at containing his stifled laughter, only to stiffen at the implication made about him (fair's fair, Zaala, you may laugh). "That's… not at all what I meant," he says earnestly despite his weary patience beginning to wear thin. "I don't… do poaching. Besides I already have a…" muttermutter. "…nevermind." A deep breath is taken, "I meant that you could come with her too." He's not going to beg though. He'll just shrug, "As you wish."

Abigail jaw tenses while she peers at the teen, she is about at her limit of keeping her tongue in check here. "No one is taking advantage of anyone here." She states with a firm tone while eyeing the boy. "Either way ye go we're going to follow you. Would ye rather I walk behind ye watching ye lot like a hawk for the long trip trek back or a ride on a dragon that will get ye back here sooner? As ye are so eager to go and be free from our company I figure ye might take the faster way back." Abbey has no problem following them, she'll even grab her canines to make sure the little group doesn't get off the path and get lost. "I bet we could come up with plenty of things to talk about on the long walk." With the boy wrangled and given back to Zaala a glance is sent towards her friend and then her brother to watch for a moment. She takes in a soft breath before her pale gaze settles upon the teens once more waiting for a answer.

K'drozen steps over to Zaala as she retrieve the young boy, and mutters softly to her, "… with… they… away from this… now."

Th'ero glances sharply to the holdless youth as he addresses the Weyrwoman in thinly veiled disgust and it takes all of the Weyrleader's resolve not to bristle in protest. What do they know? He snorts, catching the lie in the youth's boasting but he will not call him out on it now as he is only looking for this to end peacefully and somehow verbally challenging him is not the way to go. Tempting, but no. As Reynold is scooped up, Th'ero does stiffen, reaching back to grasp Kimmila's arm and all but ready to go charging in when the youth only offers the child back to Zaala. See? Harmless. Snarky, stubborn and bad mouthed but no criminals. As for the rest, the Weyrleader is not deaf and he hears enough to have him scowling towards the lead youth. "No rider would ever take advantage of any of you," Th'ero says in a firm tone that betrays a hint of the appalled shock his mind has been pushed into as he comes not only to D'ani's defense but to all riders. Something that Abigail does as well and the Weyrleader looks again to the Wingsecond in approval. "So be it if you chose to walk, but you will be escorted all the same." Th'ero informs the holdless and offers them one last chance to reconsider. Already the Guards are returning too and they linger further behind, attentive but curious as they await their orders to go forwards with the riders.

Kimmila snorts, shaking her head as her eyes flash, but she still says nothing. It's all being said, after all, though she does glance at D'ani with a little smirk. Him? Take advantage of someone? HA. When Th'ero grips her arm she reaches out to grip his in a vice like grip in return. No, wingmate, don't. She relaxes when the kid is returned and the situation doesn't spiral down into a true disaster.
The teen just gives his head an angry shake, gesturing sharply to his mates. "Let's go." The meek girl in the back only gives Zaala a startled and then puzzled look, and then D'ani a swift, longing gaze. A /bronzerider/. But she can't step out of line and, poor thing, she's not the sharpest knife in the block. So the group turns to go - unless they're stopped. And if others go with them, well…they'll be ignored.

Once Zaala has the boy under control, Dtirae turns back to the teens and the situation at hand, if only to monitor. But then, she's reaching for D'ani's arm. She latches on for a moment, leans in and whispers something to the Weyrsecond. Is that a mischievous smile? No, not really. She's entirely solemn, really. Then, she's looking to the teens again, but not before managing a look towards Th'ero and Kimmila. The situation, for now, seems to have fizzled out.

Dtirae whispers "You already have a what…?" to D'ani.

Zaala looks surprised by the sudden escort of the brownrider, offering him a flushed smile, "Ylwana's with Borodin, I have to wait until he catches up," at which point she looks for them, hoping that Borodin didn't have any trouble with the little girl, not that she anticipates it. Seeing the holdless youths move off with a guard of their own, Zaala pops an eyebrow up at K'drozen, "Shouldn't you go with them?" Not that she is the boss or anything, just curious.

It's just a little girl, how much trouble can she be? So thinks Borodin, and that right there shows just how ill-suited he is for the task. Nevertheless, he's managed to keep her from running off into danger (mostly because she has no inclination to go anywhere), and as the holdless youths head off, he stands up and escorts Ylwana over to meet with Zaala and Rey again. He ducks his head a little to K'drozen, seeing the brownrider near. "Uhm hey," he says, then looks to Zaala. "Are you…" Okay? But the answer is obvious, so he changes out for, "I, uhm, didn't lose her." Ylwana, that is. Okay, so that's also obvious, but he's trying here.

D'ani, chin up to level a disparaging look at the 'ringleader' as the holdless teen marches his group of friends off without a concern for their wishes, is in the process of folding his arms across his chest (Ow! That healing arrow wound doesn't like that particular shift of movement) to watch them go like a stern and displeased parental. If K'drozen is going with them, he'll forgo adding a third rider to the escort. When one of his arms is snagged by the Weyrwoman, he turns his head, meets her eyes. Ohhh yeah. She heard that, didn't she? With a sheepish tilt tugging at his mouth her murmurs something back to her, winks (with the eye facing away from those departing teens) and then gives her a lopsided, 'work with me here' grin that brings out the dimple in his cheek his mother used to gush over.

D’ani whispers, "Uhhhh… a… girlfriend." to Dtirae.

Ylwana, no trouble at all! At least, until, well, she starts to stink. Waddling along with a most tired expression on her face, Ylwana doesn't seem much of a fight to keep under wraps, though her stinky bottom is. Apparently, the tot is still … potty training. Zaala catches a whiff of it almost immediately, maybe being a girl and all. She puffs out her cheeks and leans over, to get a closer sniff. By the disgust on her face, it's most definitely a poopy diaper. A little exhaustion shows on Zaala's face, but she's grateful at least for Borodin's efforts, "Thank you for the help," she's sincere about that, grinning a little, "No, you didn't lose her, thank Faranth. I think I'm worn out from just thinking about it." A look down to the full diaper bearing lass and the restless Reynold, "I should get these two back inside, one has to be changed and the other…" she eyes Reynold suspiciously, "is safer indoors." With other nannies and other guardians to help! Her fault for taking her charges outside, who'd have thunk that kids are so hard to handle during a festival!

Th'ero is held back by Kimmila's vice like grip even if not entirely needed. He tilts his head down, eyes glancing sidelong to the bluerider and much is passed unspoken between them through that little gesture. Yes, he knows and he won't go. The situation is dissolving, with the youths backing down and walking away. Far from resolved, but the Weyrleader will accept it and once they are out of earshot, he will exhale heavily and perhaps there is a curse or two uttered under his breath. Looking up to the Weyrwoman, his smile is crooked but grim. "We'll have some damage control to do tonight," he murmurs quietly. Despite his concern, the festival IS continuing on without them and in the distance along the lake there is laughter and the murmured hum of many voices and the softer sound of music playing. There is a strummed chord then and a few cheers erupt. Seems like the dancing is about to begin within the Weyr. As for outside? That remains to be seen. "D'ani, Abigail?" Th'ero calls both riders to attention, glancing between the two though he simply quirks a brow up for the murmuring between the Weyrsecond and Weyrwoman. "Can I still call on either of you if we need some transport up to the camps? Kimmila and I are going to go see if we cannot organize some food and drink and perhaps have a few Harpers go as well." he murmurs, looking to Dtirae as well as he speaks. Does she approve? Regardless, Th'ero will then murmur and excuse himself as he slips his arm through with Kimmila's and briskly walks away. Not towards the lake shore — not yet, if they ever get a chance to return to unwind — but towards the northern bowl and the offices there. For others, the night will continue on as nothing was ever amiss, for it is the last night of the festival and many weyrfolk and riders are aiming to forget all worries and enjoy every moment of the festivities.

Dtirae nods to Th'ero. "Certainly. I'll see if I can do something for the camps." The Weyrwoman offers softly in response to the Weyrleader. Oh, and he's calling D'ani, who she's got a grip on still. Though, his response has the woman blinking, once, then twice. "Wait. Who?" Well, now he's not getting his arm back until she gets an answer. Oh, and there's important things to do. Answer first, definitely.

"Yessir!" D'ani answers, ignoring Dtirae's question to give his arm an experimental little tug. Yeah, of course she'd ask that follow-up question. The departing teens missed her question right? RIGHT? He starts walking - if she's going to hang onto his arm, she'll have to walk too. Which suits him juuust fine if it'll take them out of earshot of well… everyone! Stinky diapers? He's oblivious! If only because he’s on the spot. "I'll help you with the food collection, eh, Dtirae?" The hand of his other arm lifts to rub the back of his neck. How does he get himself into these things?!

Abigail watches the little group go and shakes her head. "Really.." There are a few things she would love to say but she doesn't comment on them yet. She turns her attention to Th'ero and nods at this. "Yes sir. I'll be glad ta help out however I can with 'em." A glance is sent over to D'ani and Dtirae and she tilts her head while watching the two, a soft smile seen and she turns to see where about her brother and Zaala may have gotten off to.

Dtirae will certainly follow alongside D'ani, she was heading that way, anyhow. It works out, really. "Certainly. I'd like to see if maybe we can get them some music." She notes softly to the bronzerider. Hopefully, the teens are too far ahead of them to hear their whispering. She'll even give the bronzerider a slight jab on the side, a soft reminder of that question lingering there in the air. Though, she does spare a look over her shoulder and waves a sort of farewell to Abigail.

D'ani turns his head as well, "Abbey, keep him (meaning K'drozen) from grouching at the youths too much eh? Seeya at the camps." He's assuming the two of them are escorting the invaders back on foot. As for that poke, he yips, jumping just a little. "Watch it Woman! I'm wounded." Not really. He's healing and her poke was nowhere near his shoulder. They're walking towards the less-populated parts of the bowl, nearing the cavern entrance and he drags out the silence, eyeing her sidelong with a teasing smirk until he finally admits, "I don't really have a girlfriend, Dtirae. I said that to silence the little punk. I was sorta hoping you'd play along." He coughs. She can hit him now?

"Oh, poor dear. That was nowhere near where you're hurt. You'll live." Dtirae coos at him, chuckling as they walk. Though patience comes and goes for the woman, it certainly isn't sticking around now as D'ani's dangling that tidbit just out her reach and smirking at her like he is. And then, he admits it. The woman chuckles softly, leaning into him, just enough /not/ to hurt his arm. "Well, we don't have to play at it." Wait, what? Maybe he shouldn't have played with the fire that is the Weyrwoman.

Maybe he shouldn't have! But somehow D'ani cannot make himself feel sorry in the slightest. She leans into him and his arm circles around her, one brow lifting, "Oh really, Weyrwoman?" His grin deepens. Taking her seriously? Not in the slightest.

"Certainly. But, maybe you're afraid." Dtirae teases softly, her head tilts and she leans in to brush a kiss upon his cheek, that is, if he doesn't run away. "I'm partly serious. I do enjoy spending time with you."

D'ani snorts, but otherwise doesn't dignify the tease with a denial. How's he going to run away with his arm hooked around her hips? The kiss lands where intended, after which he tips his head to one side, to watch her with half-lidded eyes while a lazy smile grows on his mouth. "Well," he drawls, "I'm glad you do. I've enjoyed being with you too." But they're in public and the Weyrleader has a job he expects to be taken care of. So he drops his arm from her, but doesn't go far. His hand slides down her arm to her hand, fingers curling 'round hers. "We'll talk about this later," he says, dropping his chin to more fully direct his gaze to her. He continues a touch more seriously, "but you should know if I do the boyfriend thing, I do it right." Weyrwoman. Fire. His goose is cooked, isn't it?

"That's good to hear." Dtirae returns in a softer tone, keeping their conversation just between the two of them. Though, there are occasional glances back at towards the teens. When his arm drops away, she doesn't protest especially since his hand joins hers and his fingers curl around hers. She mimics the gesture with no hesitation. "Agreed," and as he angles that look to her, she meets his gaze full on. "The right way is the only way, I'll meet those terms." Meaning, she'll do it right. His goose? Definitely cooked, well done, even. And that's how the food will be brought to the holdless camp. With a few arrangements and talking with some of the holdess, Dtirae arranges a little get together for them. Food is brought in by the riders who offered to help as needed. Something that, hopefully, keeps both Weyr and camps at peace for the rest of the evening and letting each enjoy their own festivities. And, all is well, for now.


'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.