The Rule-Abiding Zone

~~*~~ Fort Weyr - Galleries ~~*~~
The galleries are carved right out of the rock face, the rows and rows of benches rising high up into the air on a slight slant. Stone and wood benches that used to be known for offering little in the way of comfort, are now padded with cushions in Fort Weyr's colors. Placed along the railing at regular intervals are antique looking baskets filled with cheery fabric flowers. The curving walls sport tapestries in warm vibrant colors that seem to add a dash of color to the otherwise dreary stone. Where the galleries curve slightly at the ends, affording those attending hatchings or clutchings a decent view of the sands, shaded laterns offer warm lighting along the rows of benches.

There is something unmistakable about the buzz around Fort these days. Speculation is that any day now those there eggs will be a hatching and things are getting potent. Emotions are running wild, Candidates are having breakdowns, riders are cracking down and the excitement around egg-rockin' is running rampant throughout. Some are worried, some excited, a couple avoidant and a few are even indifferent. Therynn is mishmash of all of these things and then some. Having finally paid her post-excursion debacle reprimand dues (mostly), she's actually been excused at a reasonable hour for lunch today. Hungry is something the huntress turned Candidate is not, and while most are chowing down, she has chosen to escape to the galleries to do some good ol' fashioned mulling. No better place for this than the galleries! It has always been a favorite pondering spot and at the current time of day only a few onlookers are dispersed throughout the benches. As usual, the hazel-eyed mini takes up half a spot front and center. Feet are folded under indian style, both elbows on associated knees, head propped up in palms. Gaze flickers from mound to dam, mound to sire, mound to rider and then finally a blink. There are many silent thoughts passing below fluttering lashes, eyes closing but briefly a deep inhalation of the hot, arenaceous air emanating upwards from down below. *Sigh* the life of a Candidate.

Down on the Sands, Kayeth rumbles in irritation and curls herself around the clutch, blocking it from view. In the lower tier, Nyalle sighs. "Beloved," she murmurs aloud, "they want to see…" A sharp snort has her breaking off and sighing, rubbing a hand over her face. She's tired of arguing. Can the eggs /hatch/ already?

The galleries most certainly are a good mulling spot - one Brennan has been taking advantage of frequently over the past month or so. Lunchtime has come for him as well, though he hasn't gotten to food just yet. It's been a training day for him - water-damp hair sticking up every which way and the towel still draped around tank-clad shoulders are good indicators of what sort of workout he chose today. He sips at some water as he wanders in, eyes trained on the looming queen brooding over her clutch and offering a bow to the golden dragon - and a salute for the Weyrwoman - before ascending into the tiers. Therynn catches his eye, and toward her he gravitates, a small smile playing at his lips as he drops down beside her. "Hey," he greets, nudging her knee with his. "Thank you." He doesn't say for what just yet, blue-eyed regard dancing over at her before falling on the Sands as it usually does while he's here thinking.

Therynn notes that Kayeth is a little extra rumbly these days. She keeps extra quiet and still out of total respect, attempting to not be too ominous from the stands (because Rynn can be really looming and all at 5ft nothing.) There is a soft and nervous smile to Nyalle should she look over, head nodding in greeting and thanks as the rider attempts to ease the irritable gold. "Any day now eh?" is said to her in a whisper. The Candidate has felt nothing less than neurotic as of late, a seemingly common sensation as she too awaits the 'Big Day', also wondering if they can just hurry up and hatch already with to-and-fro anticipations. Sleep is at a minimum, nourishment only when necessary. Stress does crazy things to people, so galleries meditating is a sort of last ditch effort to self-soothe and prepare for the impending hatching. Breathing in the hot and heavy air has a way of calming. Weird, Rynn knows this. Brennan's arrival elicits a welcoming smile "Hey." she says back quietly when he's within a close range. "You're welcome." Hazel eyes flicker, knowing exactly what the gratitude is for.

Nyalle turns a bit to smile tiredly at the Candidates. "Any day, and it can't come soon enough." She returns salutes and then turns back to the Sands. Here, but not really here.

Hot air usually makes a person…sleepy, so coming in here to get a dose of it isn't all that unusual to Brennan's mind. "'m thinkin' we all feel that way, ma'am," he says to Nyalle with a smirk, and then he looks over at Rynn again. That she hasn't been sleeping well is fairly evident in her face and her demeanor, but he can't do much more than give her a look of quiet sympathy. "You alright?" he asks, lightly resting a hand on her shoulder. Can't do more than that, can't really express his thanks for what she gifted him in more than words for the moment…yes, he is definitely ready to move beyond the routine of Candidacy now.

Therynn can only imagine what it is like to be Nyalle right now, concluding her distrait demeanor is well-deserved and understandable. "I'm right there with ya m'lady." Head wobbles the Sr. WW's direction, a twinge of despondency in hazel irises. Warmth and Brennan's presence creates a superficial sense of comfort, legs unfolding with a sigh as she settles a little. Head dips an affirmative to Brennan's question. "I'll be alright, we all will." There is optimistic tinted realism in that statement, her own closest hand reaching to be place atop his that rests on shoulder.

Nyalle looks back at the two of them again, frowning slightly at the touching. Then she pushes to her feet, brushing off her skirts. "Excuse me," she says with a dip of her head to the Candidates. Clearly they need some alone time and she…needs to get back to the sands.

Brennan knows what the frown is for and reluctantly slips his hand from under Therynn's, though he doesn't move otherwise. It won't do to bring the Weyrwoman's ire down on them…but then she's moving away, and Brennan looks after her for a moment, trying to figure out whether or not he should be concerned about getting in trouble. Again. He looks back to Therynn, a certain quizzical quality lingering slightly. "Ever thought about askin' the Healers for a little fellis to help ya rest? Or some sorta tea?" Making infusions out in the woods to help with such things isn't a strange notion; surely the Healers do the same.

Therynn deflates even further beneath the frown of the Weyrwoman. They've been SO good when it comes to interactions since being Searched, but apparently even touching is viewed dimly when it comes to Candidates. Wait! Can Rynn wind up with a bun in the oven from hand to hand to shoulder contact? This is something she must ask Nae at a later time. She'll gulp, hand falling back to side, and extend a deep bow of head as Nyalle departs. There's a uh-oh sort of expression as she turns back towards Brennan, though not much can be done to reverse the circumspection now."I 'ave. Every night and everything they can give me that won't muck up my mind. I toss and turn, sleep four candle marks tops, then awake with a racing heart and even more velocious thoughts." How she developed such an astounding vocabulary in the forest is a wonder, but it probably has something to do with all of those late night library sessions. "How are you?" Is finally asked with a raised brow.

Brennan gives a sigh as he surveys Rynn's face further. If only he knew that silly question that surfaces in her mind! Alas, he doesn't, and therefore can't comment. "Wish I could help," he says quietly, one corner of his mouth tugging upward for what his statement implies, but he does sincerely wish he could. "'m a little restless," the hunter admits. "Ready for all this t' be over, Impression or no. Can't wait t' see what y' end up with," he states quietly, his smirk rising to a thoughtful bit of a smile.

Therynn can only convey in expressions that him even being there is the best help she could ask for. "You do." is noted as she matches his sigh. "It'll all settle soon enough." A sage-nod and lashes are batting as gaze wanders back out to mounds of sand. "Seems t'be a common quality for everyone right now." She assures he is not alone, head bobble in agreement about being ready for it to be over. "If anything at all.." self doubt and deprecation shines through. "You'll be a great rider Bren. Hope your life mate is a hunter at heart like you." Funny and sad how she can see it in others but not for herself.

Brennan runs a hand through still-damp hair, not helping the way it sticks up all over the place one bit. His brow furrows a bit for that self-deprecation from her, and while he certainly doesn't go after her chin with thumb and forefinger as he has in the past, one finger softly taps it to be sure she'll look at him fully. "Hey. Don't y' go doubtin'," he murmurs. "Yours is out there; you'll see. 'n me…guess we'll see." Obviously he has his own self-doubt as well. "Always did love a good challenge. Standin' out there 'n' just acceptin' what comes'll be a big one. But no matter what happens for either of us…" There's a nudge of his knee against hers again, a bit more lingering. "…'m not goin' anywhere." The smile is a quiet one on his lips, but a promise in his eyes as he looks at her. "What about you?" Maybe she won't answer the same, but he clearly hopes she does.

Therynn pretends to not notice the way hand streaks through damp hair. It is not that it sticks up, but more the motion and what it reminds her of that provokes thoughts which must be locked up inside with the key thrown away. Any mischief that toils is tapped away by the finger knocking on her chin, and attention is definitely where he hoped it would be. Head turns to face him fully and she smiles "S'not like hunting. So much certainty there. This.. is a whole different archery range." There's a shrug and it is decided, as fate would have it that "Time will tell." His eloquence has her considering this. A challenge it is- accepting whatever may come an even bigger one, and the concept of what happens to the 'us' in that equation among the most terrifying factors. The knee to knee contact is not shied away from, clearly showing that she's decided this type of interaction is also not of the baby-making kind and therefore within the subset of Candidate rules and regulations. "You mean it?" Is asked as if he'd play some cruel joke on her. Knowing truly that this is not the case and that his words of promise are genuine, tears attempt to well up in her eyes. They are happy ones and some of her fears begin to melt away. Like little crusaders the mistiness comes on, and quite frankly Rynn is getting pretty sick of this silly emotions stuff considering she'd been pretty devoid of them in past. She fights back the urge to turn on the waterworks and smiles, throwing arms around Bren for a quick and rule-abiding hug. "I'm not goin' anywhere either. No matter what." A pact! Her tummy all but yells, a grumble that seems to roar louder than their whispers and echoes against rocky walls. "Oh my.. umm. Maybe I should put some food in there. Join me for lunch?"

"Wouldn'ta said it if I didn't," Brennan replies to the first question, his smile for her widening to a grin. The hug she gives is readily returned, though he has to concentrate to keep it from straying out of the rule-abiding zone. "Good," he whispers at her ear before he pulls away, and he chuckles a little at the sound from her stomach. "Yeah, I could stand to do the same. C'mon." He offers a hand up, and the two Candidates venture out of the sweltering cave in search of an actual meal, perhaps just a bit more settled about one thing to come.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License