Fort Weyr - Small Prison
This old weapons shed has been converted to a small prison to hold the captured renegade. The walls are sturdy and metal bars have been set in place over the door and the one window to keep its ocupant in place. On this side of the bars there is a comfortable chair for visitors to sit in, while two guards are posted - one inside the door and one outside, and another one by the back window.

The sensation of being warm is the first thought that filters though the haze of sleep around Hazelon. Warm and in a lot less pain. Why is he warm? Did the rain stop and the sun come out? But no… his forehead wrinkles and his eyes crack open slowly. There was no sunlight arcing down into his eyes. In fact, it was strangely dark. The fellis laden sleep which the healers had put him under lets him go reluctantly, and Hazelon has to fight for every single coherent thought. When he goes to sit up, a blanket slides down to gather in his lap and causes another pause. Where did… oh s*it. The realization of exactly where he is crashes down abruptly upon him. Hiding behind the log. That rider catching him… stabbing her. Then here where… A low groan escapes from his lips. It really had all happened. He had escaped and injured a rider and now… now he was going to be exiled. His legs are gathered up close as he hugs them, curling into the smallest ball his frame will allow and rocking slowly in place.

It won't be dark for much longer in that cell and neither will it be so quiet. One of the posted Guards must have noticed Hazelon's movement within his cell and passed along the signal to alert those who are oh-so patiently waiting for the young teen to wake up. While Hazelon comes to his slow and painful realization of just where he is, the sounds of many footfalls echo down the corridor and there's the sound of metal being unlocked and a door being swung open and followed by low murmurings of voices all outside the cell. So much for peace and solitude, as Hazelon won't even have a few minutes to collect himself before they descend upon him. Th'ero will be one of the first to approach the cell, dark eyes fixed on Hazelon where he lays, his expression neutral and difficult to read. He says nothing for now, likely waiting on others to settle themselves or arrive first before they begin.

Kimmila isn't far behind the Weyrleader, pushing hair out of her face as she frowns in at him. Standing at Th'ero's side, the bluerider is dressed in more formal leathers - not gather quality, but certainly nice with an air of command about them. She squints in at the boy, and looks to Th'ero. "Should the Healer see to him first?"

Hazelon rocks not noticing at first the uptick of voices for a moment, so caught up in internal angst. But when the voices sound and a particular female voice curls in at him he looks upwards. They're just figments in the darkness to him, but there are only so many people they can be. Backwards he scoots on that cot, pressing his back against the stone wall. His mind works a mile a minute- what lie could he tell? Who did he need to be to get though this and… maybe avoid exile?

The Weyrleader is also dressed in his more formal gear, most of it (okay, all of it) dyed black. Sombre clothing for a rather grim situation. How fitting? "If you think it necessary…" Th'ero murmurs low to Kimmila and draws his head back enough to catch the Guard's attention and nod. Fetch the Healer! When Hazelon scoots on the cot to press his back against the stone wall, Th'ero will be watching him intently. Studying and observing him. Eventually the Healer will arrive, muttering a few greetings before he's granted access into Hazelon's cell. "Good day to you, lad." the old man greets, as if nothing were amiss at all. Setting his satchel down, he'll then wait for the teen to relax before he goes about his examination. Provided, of course, that Hazelon submits to it and doesn't protest.

Kimmila nods, "He probably still needs it. I don't want him dying on us." She does have compassion, she was just pissed off yesterday. She peers through the bars of the cell, frowning a little bit. "Abigail doesn't think he did it," she murmurs softly to her weyrmate.

Hazleon remains in that curled position for a long long moment as the healer moves closer. Finally he decides that caution if the better part of valor and doesn't uncurl. No relaxation at all- it might be too hard to keep his composure if he relaxes. The healer is eyed with all kinds of suspicion, before his eyes flick past him to the bluerider and weyrleader. Silence.

Abigail ears must be burning, for why else would she be making her way on into the guard area heading on back towards the cells. She was tended to by the healer, a few sutures needed to make sure the wound would stay closed at her side, her side is bandaged to make sure all goes well. In all it is an annoyance to her more than some big bad wound she can talk about from catching a 'bad guy'. A guard informed her that Th'ero and Kimmila was already inside and she peers within curiously a moment before slowly moving forward. "Weyrleader, Kimmila." Is offered softly, a glance is sent to Hazleon within the cell while the healer tends to him. She has on flight leathers, her jacket open and dark green shirt under it, her gold firelizard is draped across her shoulders just hidden under her red curly hair that is down.

The Healer is patient and he doesn't seem fazed at all by Hazelon's suspicious looks. He'll work around the fact that the teen remains curled up, not having to examine him that closely. Simply check on that fever and the wound and then nod in a satisfactory manner. "You're mending," he tells the youth with a vague smile that is likely meant to be reassuring. Then he is pushing to his feet and eyeing the assembled riders, which now include Abigail. "Keep your time with him limited. He still needs rest and… unnecessary stress will not do him good." The Healer steps out of the cell then, nodding to all three. "I'll be in the Infirmary, if needed." And off he slips away, satchel slung over his shoulder. "We'll see, Wingmate. We'll see." The Weyrleader murmurs to Kimmila, his eyes lowering to give her a lingering look while Hazelon is being seen to. It will lift as another joins them. "Wingleader Abigail," Th'ero greets the brownrider formally, his smile absent and his expression grim. "So we're all here, then? Good. We'll go inside then." More sounds then, of the cell door being opened again and stools being dragged inside by the Guards. The Weyrleader doesn't consider Hazelon much of a threat if he's willing to be crammed in the cell with the teen or he's figuring he's in no shape to take three riders (and Faranth only knows how many Guards) on bare handed. Th'ero will murmur in a low undertone to Kimmila and Abigail as they settle themselves. "We'll keep it simple. I'll start, but you two can ask your own questions too, in turn, if you think something has been overlooked or needs explanation. Let's try to keep this civil?" That goes for himself too and he knows it. So far, his temper is controlled. So far. Turning to face Hazelon then, Th'ero starts things off with a quiet spoken: "Hazelon? Do you know why you're here?"

Kimmila watches things closely, her brows furrowing in thought. "Abigail," she murmurs, nodding politely to the Wingleader. She steps back to let the guards drag in the stools, and then she moves forward to quickly claim the one on Th'ero's right. Leaning forward, she digs a parchment and quill from her boot, and spreads it out across her thigh. Ready to take notes if needed. As for keeping things civil, she nods, but there's a flicker of guilt in her eyes. Yeah, she was a bitch yesterday.

It may not be possible for Hazelon to curl any further back into that cell. But that doesn't stop the young man from doing his utmost to appear as small and not threatening as possible. He chews on his lip, only now noticing how parched he is, as the last of the fellis wears off. His arm throbs, distracting him a bit, but not enough to block out the trio moving closer. His eyes remain on Abigail, he remembers, somewhere in the haze that is his memory, of her being kind. Maybe she is the one he should try to target? To see if she'll believe him? But it isn't the kinder rider that is speaking, it's the weyrleader. His eyes flick back to Th'ero and he nods, just once, then pulls that blanket up like it is a shield between himself and the trio.

Abigail offers a nod to the Healer. "Of course." This said with a soft tone before she looks back to Th'ero and Kimmila offering both another nod before she will follow them on into the cell and take settle upon the stool that is left. Yep she's here to help? Or perhaps offers her insight to such things. She looks to Hazelon watching him, a faint smile seen though but that is it, she'll not be asking questions yet.

Th'ero's frown deepens for a moment when Hazelon behaves in the way he does. This is no cold blooded killer… or if he is, he's stricken with regret and remorse. Needless to say, the Weyrleader is puzzled by the teen and that is the mask he wears. All the anger, frustration, suspicions, all of that… is simmering somewhere beneath and unseen for now. He takes a slow breath, nodding in approval as Kimmila pulls out parchment and ink and has to struggle NOT to quirk a smile when she pulls it from her boot, of all places. To Abigail, Th'ero leans to murmur privately to her. "The Healer left a pitcher of water and a glass in here. Pour some and see if that won't coax the boy out a bit. You seem to believe he is not as he seems…" So he leaves it to the Wingleader to try and build a bit of trust, at least as a distraction. Now Th'ero's gaze falls back to Hazelon and the Weyrleader exhales slowly. Where to begin? "We need to know what happened, Hazelon, out in those forests. Who those men were, your involvement in all of this. Are you aware of the charges you face?" There lies the trick question and Th'ero's watching Hazelon intently now, though he's cautious to keep his features schooled and neutral, not giving hint to his focus.

Kimmila is also feeling much the same, but…she's seen Hazelon act before. She's still on edge, but for now, she is silent with her stylus, ready to take notes. Glancing at Abigail, she nods silent encouragement. Good luck.

Hazelon watches the interplay closely, catching the slight movement of the weyrleader's lips when he looks at the aggressive bluerider. His eyes flicker to Abigail again, then back to Th'ero. The protective blanket doesn't uncurl one bit, nor does he release the death grip he has on his legs. When he speaks, his voice is soft. Not at all the hard determined-to-live which Abigail had seen when he was attempting to escape in the forest. He licks his lips, attempting to draw some kind of moisture to them. "I killed Rayathess." Soft. So soft. If not for the smallness of the cell the words would be lost in the scant distance. "'n hurt her." Does he have it right?

Abigail glances to Th'ero at the thought before nodding a moment at the thought of getting the boy a drink. Great Just what did she get herself into here? She moves off to get the water while she listens in to the questions, and answers that may come. A glass is picked up and she pours some water into it before she is back and moves over next to Hazelon, sitting next to him even before offering the cup of water. A brow lifts at the comment that he killed Rayathess? There is a pause and she looks to Th'ero and Kimmila, she isn't too sure what to say on that bit of comment so leaves that in Th'ero corner.

There's the sound of leather creaking as Th'ero takes a seat on one of those stools, only to lean back in a way that almost gives away his surprise for Hazelon's words. Killed Rayathess? A darted look to Kimmila, then to Abigail and the silence that stretches on no doubt serves to confirm it as a truth to the poor youth. So he's to be condemned a murderer and here they are taking their sweet time in letting the axe fall! How cruel. Th'ero clears his throat, "Wingleader Abigail's injuries are not life threatening and while it's a grievous offence to attack a rider, we will discuss that later. Concerning Rayathess…" He pauses, the smallest little beat and half-breath but it's enough. There's the muffled sound of activity outside of the prison cell, urgent voices and what sounds like a heated argument. It's enough to silence the Weyrleader, who is now scowling in the direction of the door which is being opened and allowing whatever chaos to enter from the outside. "… what is this nonsense?" Th'ero growls low in his throat and begins to rise, some of that anger flashing as annoyance in his eyes at what he's considering an ill timed interruption and the Weyrleader is gearing up to knock some heads together for whoever allowed it.

… which he'll reconsider, of course, the moment it's obvious just WHO is bursting in! Well, he's not striding in so much as he's being half carried, half supported by two others at his side. It's none other that Rayathess himself, very much alive though as too his health… that's another matter. He didn't walk in here on his own unaided, as Ezra's got him and so does a Thunderbird Wingrider, a bronzerider by the name of Mr'az on the other. Rayathess will have to grip the cell bars too, in order to stay upright and it's clear he's not bearing weight on one leg and aside from a gaunt look and a bit of a sickly flush to his cheeks, he's aware and breathing. HOW he got to be here isn't clear quite yet and likely won't be the focus for now, as the moment Rayathess catches his breath, teeth gritted against the discomfort he's likely feeling from being jostled around, he's blurting out: "He's not the one you want!" Apparently he's never heard of paper and pen?

Kimmila gets swiftly to her feet at the sound of commotion, going for her dagger instead of the pen. Then she freezes when Rayathess arrives, and she darts a look to Hazelon. SEE! NOT DEAD.

Ezra supports his brother with a frown on his face, the young heir clearly conflicted. He didn't want Rayathess to come, that much is obvious. He thinks Hazelon is guilty, and to risk his brother's life so he could come here and claim Hazelon /wasn't/…well. This isn't a fun family outing.

Hazelon shifts his gaze to Abigail, and releases one hand that had held a death grip upon his knees to take the glass from her. It makes it almost to his lips before the sound of the comotion outside is breaking inside of his cell and the last person Hazelon had expected is bursting through. The glass slips from utterly numb fingers to crash downwards and sends its contents flying as the faint flush of colour which had managed to come with healing drains from Hazelon's cheeks. "You're dead."

Abigail offers a soft smile to Hazelon and nods once he takes hold of the glass. Her gaze drifts towards the other two riders. "Honestly… I don't think anything dealing with me needs to be brought up." Hey she isn't pressing charges or anything, but it's not like she has the last word in the matter. Then there is movement, someone is fighting to get in? Well now this makes her stand up and she glowers a moment. She just peers at the rider with Ezra and Rayathess and she smirks slightly. "I really hope he did come via *Between*." This is grumbled out faintly before she looks to Hazelon. "Obviously he is not, he was not killed no one said that."

Th'ero can only stare for a moment, too stunned to even protest when Rayathess arrives, with Ezra and Mr'az. The bronzerider will certainly earn The Look from the Weyrleader, which Mr'az returns with a sort of helpless grimace and half-shrug. He'll explain later? Likely both to Abigail and him. Suddenly his day went from bad to so much worse and at Abigail's mention of Between Mr'az coughs. Which has Th'ero swearing under his breath, but it draws him back to the present. "… Next time, a firelizard and a note banded for 'urgency' would suffice. Someone get him a damn chair! One for Ezra as well. Mr'az… you're dismissed. On second thought… wait in the lounge." Oh joy. Mr'az hesitates for a moment, glancing from Rayathess to Ezra, then his Wingleader and Weyrleader and sighs, jaw still set stubbornly even though he nods. "Yessir. Ma'am." And out he goes!

Rayathess can stand just fine with Ezra steadying him now that he has the bars to lean against too. He's aware of just how his brother feels about this, but he was bound and determined to show up. He doesn't even look the least bit apologetic towards the Weyrleader, just eyeing him and nodding curtly before turning his head to face Hazelon. He'll try not to flinch at how bad the youth looks or when the cup falls to the floor. "Afraid not." he says with a twisted smirk. "Came close but… I'm very much alive. You look half-dead yourself." Nice to see you too? Rayathess seems to waver then, having to lean a little more against Ezra as his eyes screw shut. Dizzy spell? Probably. Yet he says nothing of it and when his eyes open again, they focus on Th'ero, then Kimmil and Abigail. "You've the wrong one. He had nothing to do with this." he states again, his voice firm. He's convinced of Hazelon's innocence… even though he does not have a shred of proof.

Kimmila gapes a bit too, shoving her dagger back into its sheath and bending to grab her pen and parchment. Flopping down onto the stool the frowning bluerider begins to /write/. She has to record this. Angrily. Angry, angry writing. Though she does look up enough to frown at Rayathess. "Who /is/ the right one then?" she demands.

Ezra stands firm beside his brother, steadying him, though he does /not/ look pleased. Not even a little bit. Not at all. Did we mention how pissed off he is? He grits his teeth at Raya's proclamation of Hazelon's innocence. "I /saw/ him shoot you!" the young heir snaps, clearly repeating something he's said /many/ times before now.

Hazleon sits, utterly rigid in his disbelief. Abigail's words do filter, but… he had been so sure. They'd all made it sound like… He filters and filters trying to adjust this newfound paradigm to this change in events. And he finds… he can't. "I," the whisper slips though his lips as he continues to stare. No, not Rayathess. Abigail. He'll look there. "I was thinkin' you were huntin' so hard. . I jus' figured… but why then. I was just tryin' t' help."

Abigail sends a glowering glance after the leaving Mr'az, oh just wait until she gets to speak with him it will not be a good talk. To take someone injured through *Between*? That is just something that should not be done, even with something like this. A faint breath escapes her before she looks to Rayathess and points slightly to the seat that is brought to him. "Please sit before ye fall down." She offers with a shake of her head before she looks to Hazelon once more as she watches him. "Aye, I had a feeling he was not the one that did the deed. The question now is who, who did it?"

A stool is finally dragged in by a Guard for Rayathess and the older Stonehaven brother settles himself onto it with Ezra's help and with gritted teeth to keep from making it too obvious how even that motion hurts him. It's his leg that's the culprit and he'll keep a hand clasped to the thigh as if gripping it there staves off the worst of the pain. He looks up at his brother, his expression grim. "I know what you saw!" he says and then looks back into the cell, where Hazelon is currently sitting rigid in his disbelief. "And now we'll hear HIS side of it." As for who did it, Rayathess just stares at Kimmila and then sidelong to Th'ero and Abigail. "Damned if I know," he retorts smartly, which earns him a glowering scowl from the Weyrleader. NOT a good time to be brash!

Ezra helps his brother sit and then stands at his side, hands shoved deep into his pockets and scowling. He's silent for now, stewing. Likewise, Kimmila continues to make notes, though she does look up to peer at Hazelon, waiting for his reply.

Hazelon is totally devoid of colour, his eyes flashing back and forth between Ezra and Rayathess. There is literally nothing which could pry words from his mouth as he stares. Every single carefully cultivated lie which he had spent the last five minutes developing crumbles into nothing as he attempts to deal with the reality of Rayathess being alive and not dead. His little survivor heart springs into action, wondering if maybe, just maybe, this would keep him from exile. And since no one is asking him any questions at the moment. Yeah, he'll just sit here with this mouth shut.

Abigail she watches quietly while her gaze drifts between them before she looks over to Hazelon once more. "Do ye know who shot Rayathess?" She just comes right out an says it, well someone needs to get this thing rolling!

Th'ero was going to get to it, honest! The Weyrleader was just too busy chewing over the recent interruption and Rayathess' sudden appearance, along with Ezra. He wasn't expecting them to be present quite yet. "… all we need is a shardin' full ranked Harper right now and we've got the whole package…" he growls under his breath, likely only overheard by Kimmila. Apparently Hazelon has gone mute on them and as Abigail jumps into prod him into speaking, the Weyrleader will add in a low and deep spoken tone. Still standing, Th'ero will fix Hazelon with a look that implores the teen to speak. Now is his chance, while everyone's patience is still more or less in tact. "It'll be best if you just come straight out with it. No sense at these cryptic games now, boy. Not with the noose around your neck… And that's enough from you." Th'ero will point his finger in a warning gesture, when Rayathess begins to speak up again in protest. The Sr. Apprentice just falls silent, glancing swiftly to Ezra and then back to Hazelon. Come on… say something?

Ezra's hand reaches out to rest on Rayathess' shoulder, gripping it firmly while he stares at Hazelon. Yeah, say something. Anything. No pressure, right? Even Kimmila looks up, stylus poised and ready. Waiting.

Hazelon is caught in the middle of attention, exactly where he has worked to avoid the last three turns completely. His eyes shift to Abigail. He'll remain silent for a few beats longer. That water that was suppose to go to his dry mouth is now all over the bottom of the blank he had been given and the floor. Does he talk? Should he remain silent. When Th'ero speaks of the noose he'll cringe backwards just slightly, and lick his lips in an attempt to bring up some kind of moisture. "They what shot at him are dead." There, it's something?

Abigail moves to get another cup of water for Hazelon while he thinks on the matter if he should answer or not. Still there needs to be answers given at some point. She makes her back back to Hazelon and offers him the cup once more. "Who wanted him dead, could ye tell us a name, or where they are?"

"Won't really matter if they're dead, Abigail. Dead men can weave no tales and certainly cannot stand to testify in trial," Th'ero remarks dryly and rather morbidly. It's the truth though, at least? They only have Hazelon's word now, that "those men" were the culprits. It is something to start, but the Weyrleader is seeking far more than that. He levels the youth with another look, "And how do you know these men are dead, Hazelon?" he prompts the teen, watching him carefully. Seeing if the boy goes for truth rather than some cryptic statement. Out with it! Meanwhile, Rayathess will grit his teeth as he struggles not to fidget or burst with frustration and just demand that Hazelon tell them what happened.

Ezra continues to be silent, his eyes dark as he watches this unfold. On her stool, Kimmila snorts softly. "Convenient, that the men who did shoot him are dead…Who /were/ they? And why? Tell us the story of what unfolded, Hazelon."

Hazelon's hands are shaking when he reaches out to take that cup again from Abigail. This time the water makes it to his lips and after the first sip, he'd really just meant to wet them, he's drinking it down like he hasn't had anything to drink in days. (Okay, so only one). "Thank'e ma'am," Hazelon whispers to Abigail. But, it isn't the wingleader who is pushing the questions. It's the weyrleader and the bluerider. "I killed the first one. In the clearin' when they recognized Setha… 'n they wanted that runner. Got mine… but had to kill her when we had to be runin." Nope, sorry, it is a story, just well. Not the whole story. Hazelon isn't quite sure what to say and what to not say.

Abigail pauses a moment and then looks towards Kimmila smirking slightly as she catches her comments. A slight shake of her head is seen before she goes back to listening to the tale it would seem. She nod slightly to the thanks for the drink to the boy before a brow lifts hearing that Hazleon did kill someone, he admitted it after all.

Th'ero's attention focuses all the more intently on Hazelon once the youth admits to killing someone, only for far different reasons. Stepping forwards, he will pull the stool he had been sitting on with him and as he settles he never once lets his gaze slip from the teen. Leaning forwards just enough to rest his elbows against his legs, he'll continue to question him. "So you admit to killing one of the renegades then. Why? Was he aiming to kill you or…" And there's just a brief shift to his eyes, as he looks towards Rayathess and Ezra, standing there on the opposite side of the bars. "… were you trying to stop the man from firing on Rayathess?" He'll turn his head a bit now, to glance to where Kimmila sits and jots down the notes. Does she have any input in this? What catches Th'ero's interest next is the name Hazelon uses and Rayathess's oath, even muttered, can be overheard. THIS seems to trouble both the Weyrleader and the eldest Stonehaven. "These men, then, knew and recognized Rayathess? And it was his runner they were after?" Something doesn't quite click there and the Weyrleader frowns darkly.

Kimmila looks up sharply when he admits to killing. "For a runner?" That…seems… She glances at Th'ero with a frown. Then she goes back to writing. For the moment, she has nothing to add. She just wants more of the story.

This seems to have been the wrong thing to say, and the shift in both Th'ero and Rayathess clues Hazelon into it. Hazelon licks his lips again, glancing again at Abigail. No help from that corner it seems… back to the weyrleader. "He," and he nods at Rayathess, though he doesn't allow his words to stray over to Ezra, "promised if I was helpin' him, he'd be gettin' me a place at Stonehaven. I… didn't want to be givin' that up." Though it is only now that Haze realizes how far off that dream really had been. "But they was shootin' afore I could. Lyreh was tryin' to be makin' them stop, they wasn't suppose to be doin' anythin' to be bringin' attention to them." It's the truth… at least, as close as Hazelon will flirt with it. "Ain't you knowin' what he did? Of course we be hatin him…" A hint of incredulity breaks in to Hazelon's soft voice, shooting Rayathess a faintly envious look. How nice it must be to just be able to… walk away from it.

Th'ero meets Kimmila's glance and his head moves in the barest of nods. He agrees, it seems so unlikely that it's just for the runner. Patience is a virtue though and Hazelon begins to explain further and more of the missing pieces are discovered. The Weyrleader listens intensely, his eyes drifting to where Rayathess and Ezra are when the teen mentions the deal struck. He frowns, displeased and disapproving, but there's no point in arguing about that now. That'll be something he'll question the Stonehaven's about later… or Ezra at least. Rayathess' strength is starting to falter and he's looking rather pale, or it could be he's just stunned by the retelling of the events. Hazelon's filling the gaps that, up to this point, the Sr. Apprentice Harper had only assumed he knew the truth about. Th'ero was beginning to have serious doubts that Hazelon had a part in attempting to murder Rayathess, until the teen says one little word. So tiny and yet so significant to the Weyrleader. We. "Of course we know what Rayathess had done. We're the ones who found him and he was interrogated, just as you are now. Hazelon… why are you saying 'we'?" No need for crypticness. That is so obviously a loaded question.

Ezra straightens up, /eying/ Hazelon. "'We'?" he asks lowly, questioning the ex-drudge at almost the same instant the Weyrleader does. As for Stonehaven, Ezra just crosses his arms. "Time will tell about Stonehaven," he says lowly. At least it's not an outright 'hell no'?

Kimmila glances up at that 'we' too, frowning at Hazelon, then turning to look at Rayathess and Ezra. Then, back to the drudge. "What did you do, Hazelon, when they started firing on Rayathess."

He hadn't meant to say that. Hazelon bites his lip, dark eyes shifting between all of those sitting arrayed before him. "I did no' mean…" he attempts to backpeddle from the two letter word which is going to damn him. "It needed to be done… Laris… he wasn't no good. But we… we lost everythin'. Bad as they was… it was all we had. Ain't had nothin… really, to be callin' my own till," and here the teenager's eyes do come to rest on one person in paticular- Ezra, the Stonehaven heir. "till he was givin' me a firelizard. And he… he ain't here no more either." At least, not that Hazelon knows of. He has been asleep since arriving back at the weyr for the mart part. But Kimmila is throwing in a question. "I shot them. Got one've them in the stomach, he died. Lyreh, she finally got them to be stoppin' once he," a nod to Rayathess, "was out of sight."

Th'ero frowns deeply and for a moment he's visibly troubled before he can mask that from his expression. Rayathess swears under his breath and seems to sag a little further in his seat and enough that the Weyrleader shoots him a concerned look. He's about to speak up, but the older Stonehaven seems to gain a second wind and shakes his head. He's fine, he's fine! He has to hear this. To FINALLY understand or being to understand, why Hazelon had so much hatred pent up against him. Th'ero however, has turned his attention back to Hazelon and he sighs heavily as the teen brings up an old guilt that the bronzerider has held for a long time. "I realize that and that being taken from that life and put into the Weyr and the Holds must've been a shock to you and many others. You had a choice though, to start anew and while we tried not to interfere… returning to a life of thievery and holdlessness is not living." Neither, really, is being a drudge but he doesn't get into that. He'll go silent as Kimmila asks her question, one he approves of and he's quick to speak up again when Hazelon answers. This time, the Weyrleader seems not as suspicious. "So you fired in defence then. Not AT Rayathess? Were they all aiming at him?" Because that would certainly change things, wouldn't it?

Ezra straightens a bit, looking startled. "They killed your firelizard?" Quiet for a moment, the young heir squeezes Rayathess' shoulder, at least outwardly putting on a unified front. When Th'ero speaks, Ezra frowns more deeply. He /saw/ Hazelon fire…in Rayathess' direction.

Kimmila frowns, scribbling notes onto the paper and then blowing on it before she flips it to continue writing on the back. "Why did you go with them then? And not make it to the cothold? Running away…didn't look real good." Understatement, as she looks up to eye Hazelon for a moment. Then she smirks. "I /knew/ you were good with a bow." Mutter. Vindicated!

Hazelon lifts the glass to his lips again, the last of the water drained. This drinking causes a long long pause before he answers any of the questions posed to him. His eyes narrow, anger bubbling up as Th'ero seemingly brushes off the choices the teen has had to make. Easy for them to be sayin', wasn't them what had to be makin' a new life. Finally, he casts his eyes downward again so as not to have to answer. "Don't know if Scrap be dead, ain't seen him since she," and he jerks his head at Abigail, "scared him off." The other questions are a bit trickier, and Hazelon has to think for long seconds before answering. "I ain't interested in bein' dead." He manages to make his voice utterly flat, not hinting at all to the anger under it. "They was lookin' to be stickin' arrows in my back if I wasn't convincin' them I wasn't just like them. Lyreh remembered me from the camp, 'n spoke for me. I did no' run. I ain't interested in dyin'. Not for even a Stonehaven."

Th'ero stays where he has sat himself down on that stool, hardly moving from his position save to shift his weight from time to time but even that gesture is minute at best. Stoic and reserved, the Weyrleader can be a very imposing figure when he's wanting to be. Currently? He's still imposing, but he does not view Hazelon as a threat. Does he see him as an innocent? Not entirely either. Innocent in the charge of attempted murder of Rayathess, but the bronzerider suspects the teen has blood on his hands. Just as he suspects Rayathess' aren't pristine either. Not that he can judge, he's killed too. "He'll come back in time and probably once we're gone and things settle and feel safe." Th'ero explains quietly, glancing sidelong to Kimmila when she mutters about Hazelon being good with a bow. Smirking, he'll glance back to Hazelon, only to nod and frown deeply. More disturbing news and it doesn't seem like it settles well with Rayathess either. That or the older Stonehaven really isn't doing so well at all and he tugs at his brother's sleeve. "I need some air…" he mutters, looking pale and sickly. Th'ero is aware of this from the corner of his eye, but he has further questions to ply Hazelon with. He's not free quite yet. "So it was a camp then? How large? Holdless or renegade? … though from what you have told us so far, it sounds like these were renegades. So you had no choice." It's not stated as a question and more like truthful fact. "So let's see if I understand this… You never intended harm to Rayathess. When you both met with this Lyreh, she had been dishonest on her end and had men with her. Hidden, I presume? Only they recognized Raya, as Setha, and aside from wanting his stallion, they also wanted payback. Am I right so far?" Th'ero will wait for confirmation before continuing. "When one of them fired, you fired at them, the renegades, but as a result wound up with them?"

Ezra stiffens when Rayathess tugs at his sleeve, and he bends to put his hand beneath his brother's elbow. "Outside then," he murmurs, very gently helping him to stand, but waiting for him to give the word before they head out. Ezra is just the muscle here. He /is/ listening though, as Th'ero outlines the story as he sees it so far. Ezra frowns, but keeps his silence still.

Kimmila scribbles this all down, glancing up to Hazelon when it's his time to answer. "The truth, boy," she says, her voice quiet but firm. "Don't make it worse."

Hazelon hasn't liked yet. Which, in and of itself is pretty strange. He watches the interplay between the weyrleader and the blue rider, the slight frown on his face growing. He cannot accept the reassurance from the weyrleader with regards to the scrappy bronze lizard, untill Hazelon sees him again, he'll just believe the creature to be gone. When Rayathess suddenly needs air Hazelon will watch him go, eyes peeled to his backside, and thoughts hidden behind the dark glower he gives. None of this would have happened if Rayathess had just listened when he told him this was a bad idea. But Th'ero is speaking again, so he twitches away. The glass is settled down as he wraps his arms around his legs, attempting to look as small as possible. "Aye." A simple enough question for the complex question Th'ero has asked. Wait, they wanted elaboration? Too bad.

Th'ero's eyes flicker with the first signs of annoyance and frustration directed towards Hazelon, when the teen refuses to elaborate and gives them only one singular answer. "Aye… to what? Wingrider Kimmila was being truthful, boy. We need to hear the truth of it and you'll only make it worse on yourself if you behave this way. You think the Harpers sent by the Hall and on behalf of Fort Hold will be so kind with you? As far as the Hall is concerned, you're responsible for what befell Rayathess. As far as the Holds are concerned, you're another threat and will face exile along with the rest of those men once they're captured." he explains in a voice that is low and firm. He's serious and there are no tricks or coy games here. He is trying to warn Hazelon that hiding now will condemn him far worse than if he just spoke the truth. Th'ero will watch too as Rayathess stands, how the elder Stonehaven brother can barely manage it, even with Ezra's support and using the bars as leverage. The Weyrleader scowls, concerned and likely swearing under his breath. He turns to Kimmila and murmurs something low to her, before facing Hazelon again. "So again, Hazelon. Was this a renegade camp? How large? And you ended up in this camp by circumstance and stayed with them out of fear for your own life. And it was these men who had issue with Rayathess, not yourself? Speak the truth. The only evidence WE have says otherwise and has it that you fired upon Rayathess. Convince me… convince us," And he nods to Kimmila next to him. "… that this isn't the full truth of it."

Ezra helps Rayathess stand, and he tries to catch Hazelon's eye. "/Talk/ to them," he snaps, though his voice is frustrated it's also pleading. Please. /Please/ talk.

Kimmila twists a bit to look back at the Stonehaven brothers, and then she looks back at Hazelon. "Details. We need details. Your information for your freedom, in a way," she murmurs, tapping the stylus against the parchment draped over her thigh. "We can keep you safe. Give you a /home/." She glances at Ezra, then back to Hazelon. "At the weyr, at least…" She can't promise Stonehaven.

Anger. It curls hotly under Hazelon's skin as Th'ero starts to roll out the only vaguely veiled threats. This is what he had expected, what he had known would happen eventually. Why he tried so hard to hide when first coming to this place, escrewing the antics of those others, like Lyreh, who had acked out. "I never did nothin'." It comes out as a hot hiss. He gives up on that curled position, lurching to his feet suddenly. "You," and he points straight at Kimmila, the woman who never trusted him from the start, "you'll never be belivin' me no matter what I be sayin. You want to know what's out there?" His points a finger in the rather ambiguious direction of not here, "You ain't never seen nothin' like Ustrr. He be their chief. He ain't crazy, not like Laris. He's smart. Ain't lookin' to be gettin' the attention of them what would be ragin, he almost was killin' them what was stupid 'n shot the Stonehaven." It's a mark of how angry the teen is, that he doesn't say Rayathess' name. "And he got people what wouldn't never do nothin' against him."

Rayathess will try to linger for as long as he can as Hazelon's anger finally gets the best of him but his strength wanes half way through and he has to lean heavily against Ezra for a moment. "Outside," he mutters low to his brother's ear and he will stagger out, likely helped at some point by a Guard when he begins to struggle even with Ezra at his side. The door will open and close again and then it's just the teen and the two riders. Th'ero's expression does not shift when Hazelon finally snaps, no smug smirk or flicker of surprise. Just coolness and collected calm and it remains that way until Hazelon is on his feet. Suddenly the Weyrleader is too, but he moves slow and stands to his full height, shoulders drawn back and posture tensed and wary. When Kimmila is pointed too, his frown darkens and though he doesn't put himself between the teen and the bluerider, his weight does shift a bit. Protective? Oh, you bet he is! But Hazelon's played right into Th'ero's trap and given him what he wants. A name. An idea of who and WHAT the real threat is. "Ustrr? A chief. Renegade then." The word is almost growled, as if a curse just to voice it and his eyes darken for a moment, until he's drawn back to the present moment. "So you confirm and testify that it was them or some of those men, who shot Rayathess? And that you only fired upon the renegades at the time of the attack, but were… "captured" and forced, more or less, to follow them."

Kimmila tilts her head to Th'ero and nods, jotting down another note. When Hazelon stands and points at her she bristles, stiffening, but she doesn't stand. She's taking /notes/. "I'll believe you if you tell us what you /know/," she snaps. "No cryptic riddles and no leaving shit out." Ustrr. "That with one 'r' or two?" she mutters, mostly to herself. Ustrrrrrr. Ustr. Hmm. She'll go with two. Then, "Shit. Th'ero." And the look she gives him speaks volumes. Another Laris. /Worse/ than Laris. Non-crazy Laris. "Fuck. Do you know where they were camped, Hazelon? Any landmarks at all? Anything."

"You ain't ne'er gonna be findin' him." Hazelon manages to pull his anger inward again, but he doesn't sit. The difference in height between himself and the weyrleader doesn't seem to make him want to back down even a little bit. No, he's played his card and it's time to try a different face. Acting the tough had served him well in the camps- he'd gotten food when he needed it. "I ain't ne'er done nothin' I ain't agreed to." Except be locked up. That is rather uncool. "I did no go 'cuz I was forced, I went 'cuz I was lookin' to live. If I'd seen all've them what was around, I woud've let 'em shoot Setha 'n saved my own skin." Because whatever it takes to survive. His hands at his side curl, but he makes no other agressive moves. "But I did no' see them, so ayre. I ain't shot the Stonehaven." His tone makes it utterly clear he almost regrets not doing so now.

Acting tough around Th'ero doesn't always work, but the Weyrleader knows a stand off when he sees one and he will stand his ground to Hazelon, looking down at the teen with a stoney expression. His jaw has tightened, his eyes dark beneath a heavy scowl and his lips pressed firm and tightly. There's no outcry for Hazelon's bluntness and harshness in admitting he'd let Rayathess die if it mean saving his skin. Th'ero's all too aware of how the mentality works among the holdless and renegades and this was how the teen was raised. He's seen it before. "You didn't shoot at the Stonehaven." he confirms and then nods grimly. Well, they have that at least, but now… Kimmila's outburst reminds him they have a far BIGGER problem on their hands. "Wingmate," Th'ero turns, just enough to give her a level look. Not now, though he's likely thinking the same thing she is. "We should get to the reports. Let Hazelon rest." For now. They'll be back, because he was more information that they'll want from him concerning this Ustrr. Maybe that is where his redemption lies, if he's bright enough to realize it. "Wingleader Abigail, if you'll be joining us? I'm sure you've a few words to say to Mr'az as well." And a report to fill out. Th'ero? Has a Weyrwoman to hunt down and… a possible renegade hunt on his hands.

Kimmila snorts as she gets to her feet. "Just /watch/ us," she says, her voice low and almost hissed. Anger and determination not directed at Hazelon, but to their new and dangerous prey. "Do you know where, Hazelon." Since he seems to need every question repeated to him twice.
"No. And I'm not lookin' to be dragged back into that business. Ustrr'd kill me as soon as lookin' at me now that I done got two of his men," did Hazelon forget to mention the second one he'd had to kill to escape? Oops. He takes a deep breath and sends another look after where Rayathess and Ezra have disappeared. Then, silence. He's answered their questions.

Th'ero steps back from Hazelon, never turning his back and keeping his eyes fixed on the teen. His steps will bring him around behind Kimmila though and the Weyrleader will visibly press his hand to the back of the blue rider's shoulders, right between and at the base of her neck. Quite the odd gesture for a rider of his rank to show to a Wingrider… unless there is more to it. It's meant to gain her attention, without actually hauling her out of the cell. "Kimmila." Enough. He doesn't say anything further, just her name but his tone speaks volumes. Back down. It's time that they left and Th'ero begins to move towards the cell door, waiting for a Guard to open it and giving Kimmila the subtlest of nudges forwards. Ladies first? "We're not saying you're to go back, Hazelon." Killed two of his men? THAT does give the Weyrleader pause but it will be a topic for another day. For now… "Best to rest, boy. We'll see what we can do with the information that you shared with us." Does that mean there will be no further interrogations? Not likely.

Kimmila nods. "Don't blame you for /that/. You're safe here at least," she murmurs, shifting beneath Th'ero's touch and shooting him a look. She turns her back on Hazelon and walks out of the cell, eyes scanning the words she wrote even as she goes.

Hazelon's gaze remains fixed on the pair as they exit the cell. Could he really have expected that they'd let him go after Rayathess so dramatically had declared his innocence? Maybe just a a little. But when the guard closes the bars down on the cell that little fuzz of hope is broken- just like every small one Haze has allowed himself to muster up. No. They were still thinking he was guilty. Of what, seeing as that Wingleader didn't seem inclined to go after his skin but… He abruptly turns his back on the doorway and throws himself down on the hard bunk. There is thinking to be done.