Fort Weyr - Orchards
Set some distance outside the Weyr but still within view of the Weyr's stone rim wall are the fruit orchards. Various trees have been planted here, some very old and others younger but all are well tended to. Almost all the variety of berries and fruits are found here, save for those who require a more tropical climate or certain specific growing conditions. Enough fruit is produced by these trees to supply the Weyr comfortably during their harvesting season and around this time the orchards are generally teeming with gardeners, orchard workers, weyrbrats, candidates and anyone selected into volunteering to help.

Just beyond the orchards are a few flat fields that also grow a few other types of berries, either bush or vine variety. Other plots have been set aside for herbal plants, ones needed in larger quantities that the greenhouse within the Weyr cannot support. These plants are carefully marked or tagged to be certain that anyone harvesting is aware which is edible, medicinal or both.


What better day than a crisp, cool and clear autumn morning than some harvesting out in the orchards! Clouds drift by lazily on a gentle breeze and when the sun does peek through it offers some warmth but not so much as to be uncomfortable. The Headwoman had put out word and notices that the harvesting would begin on this morning, with all interested volunteers (and those required to be there) to report in the southern bowl come dawn. Once everyone had gathered, including several weyrbrats and youths, they had all left for the orchards by foot.

A few dragonriders have also joined in, some mostly to help with the transport of the harvested goods and others to lend an actual hand with the process. One particular rider is the Weyrleader himself, Th'ero having chosen to tag along rather unexpectedly (or so it's whispered — the Headwoman is a bit baffled!). Not that he comes alone, he is with his weyrmate as well but a third has joined them: a small, black curly haired toddler who, at the moment, is strapped in with the bronzerider as Velokraeth circles to land at the far side of the orchards.

By now most have already begun to set to work, with the supplies having been brought in some candlemarks before. Everything from baskets to necessary tools and storage items are out and organized neatly, watched over by the keen eyes of the Headwoman as she 'sets base' there and from her come most of the orders. Primarily, she is focused on keeping the weyrbrats and youths in line and already she is shouting a few warnings at one group who have taken to climbing the trees rather than using safer methods.

Kimmila and Varmiroth are soaring down after Velokraeth, the nimble, pale blue landing once the bronze has settled and cleared enough space for him to do so. Dismounting, Kimmila stows her riding gear to walk to Velokraeth's side, helping take Kyzen down and setting him on the ground, holding tightly to his hand as he strains and leans away, itching to just…go…over THERE.

Becoming a vintner involves learning about every step of the drink-making process - from vine to wine, as the saying goes. (Or, in this case, from tree to barrel.) That's why Borodin's been sent out to help today. Of course, it'd be a lot more plausible as a justification if there were a vintner journeyman along to educate him, but maybe he's supposed to pick things up from the farmers. Or maybe he's just here to pick fruit and carry heavy objects and never mind the excuses. He's currently up on a ladder, head amidst the leaves as he collects redfruit to fill up his basket.

Velokraeth will answer Niumdreoth's bugle with a rich warble of greeting, the pale bronze waiting for Th'ero to dismount and store his riding gear before giving Varmiroth a playful nudge and then joining the brown. "Thanks," The Weyrleader murmurs to Kimmila when she takes Kyzen from him and already as the toddler begins to strain he exhales. "You remembered his harness, right?" He's not serious, is he? From the look he gives the bluerider — he is. And for good reason! Despite Kimmila's firm hold, Kyzen — being the little tenacious brat he already is — slips free and takes off as fast as his little legs will carry him. His goal? Nowhere. Though his mad dash to freedom brings him right to where Borodin and Abigail are currently harvesting. Most importantly, Kyzen seems to think it'll be a Good Idea to latch onto one side of the ladder as he half stumbles and catches it to balance himself with a big 'ol innocent grin given to Abigail and then up to Borodin in fascinated awe. Heeeey. Whatcha doin'?

Varmiroth returns the brown's greeting as well, lumbering over to settle down between the larger dragons with a contented sigh. "Yeah," Kimmila answers, sighing when their son bolts off. "Were you this reckless and stubborn?" she asks Th'ero with a frown, grabbing the boy's harness and walking swiftly after. "Careful!" she calls, though to who is unclear.

Huh-what? The branches around Borodin rustle as he looks down. "Oh." There's an empty basket. "Uhm, well, not quite." There's another rustle as he picks another apple. "You, uh, could come back. Or do a half basket, I guess. Or… uh… yeah. Not yet." The small child wandering over gets a suspicious look, and then Borodin's suspicions are confirmed as the ladder wobbles. "Uh, hey, that's-" not really a good idea. Borodin reaches out a hand for a better grip, and tries to adjust his position, and… thumps his head into a branch. "Ow." But, hey, at least it makes a couple of apples fall! Thudthudthud…

Abigail tilts her head while she watches Borodin, a nod is seen. "Sok I'll just.." There is a pause at the 'shout' and she glances around before catching sight of the toddler making the mad dash towards the tree, and more importantly the ladder. "Hold on!" Is called up to her brother, and she rather hope he doesn't fall as the ladder is getting all wobbly. With a soft smile she works on trying to free Kyzen's hands from sad ladder. "Hey there.. Let's not do that just this moment, aye?" She even crouches down to the tots level and points at the ladder and then up to Borodin. "He sorta needs that to say put."

Th'ero only sighs as Kyzen tears off and then shoots Kimmila a look as he follows after the bluerider. "Stubborn, but not reckless! Must've got that from you." he drawls and then frowns heavily when he realizes where their son has gone. He'll also shoot looks to whoever has paused in their work to glance curiously at the scene, most of them promptly returning to their tasks once the Weyrleader's gaze meets them. "Kyzen, leave him be! Get away." he calls, hurrying just that much more. Back at the tree, Kyzen finds it hilarious when Borodin hits his head and sends the apples tumbling. Luckily none bonk the kid on the head, though that'd serve him right. No, he just latches on harder to the ladder and gives it another good shake with a impish little laugh. Again, again! Wide eyes stare at Abigail then as she tries to pry his hands free and succeeds, mainly because he is fascinated with her. New person! "Aye!" he parrots back but only grins. No, he doesn't get it or he does and… nope, not listening. His head tilts up to Borodin when Abigail points and there's another laugh. "APPLES!" he all but squeals and freeing one hand from the brownrider, he smacks the ladder again. Not enough to shift it, but the vibration is certainly felt.

Kimmila snorts, her smile just a bit amused at Th'ero's answer as she walks after. "Kyzen. Stop," she says firmly as well, swooping in and scooping up the kid. Plop. He goes into his father's arms as Kimmila swiftly tries to wrestle him into the harness.

Borodin would like staying put, yes. Falling down like those apples and squishing his head open doesn't sound like a very fun idea! "It, uhm, uh…" Okay, so Borodin has a grip with one hand on a hopefully-sturdy branch, which means if the ladder gets knocked away he can… dangle awkwardly for a moment or three before the ignomious tumble. "Uh. You." Apples. Yes. "You… can go get the apples!" Please? Or really, go get and do anything except shake the ladder. Here, he'll even help! He stops stabilizing his basket and plucks an apple - see? Lookit, it's all red and shiny and fruit-like! - and tosses it, underhand, right past Kyzen. "Go get it!" As one might say to a canine. He's even using that tone of voice… and then Kimmila and Th'ero arrive to save the day, or at least his skull, and Borodin notices whose kid he was talking to. Uh. Oops? He shuffles a step further up his ladder, in the hopes he can hide among the other red things.

Abigail smirks just a touch while she peers at Kyzen, she reaches over to give his side a soft little poke once he goes back to smacking at the ladder. "If'nn ye don't leave the ladder be I'll have ta tickle ye. Aye, apples. Would ye like one?" This questioned with an amused tone as she reaches over to pick up a said apple, which is then wigglewiggled within her hand. Looky here, I have an apple! Her pale gaze lifts to Borodin to make sure he is indeed alright seeing how he did hit his head and all there, and is not tossing apples for the boy as if he was a canine? A soft breath escapes her at the thought of that. Though both Th'ero and Kimmila catch her attention now that little Kyzen is plucked up. A smile is seen along with a nod. "Afternoon Weyrleader, Kimmila. His alright, just looking for apples I'm thinking." This said with an amused tone.

Kyzen is indeed fascinated by that Red Shiny Thing that Borodin is holding, wide eyed and smiling broad and wide. Yes, yes! THAT thing! He wants it. Then it's tossed! Fascinating and most curious! He burbles something and would have fetched but Abigail is poking him and then offering him the same thing. Delighted but puzzled, he makes a gleeful sound. "Yes! Want apples! Falling apples?" Cue a point to the now safe(r) Borodin, with the toddler sufficiently lured away from the ladder. Hands reach for the tempting food and then Kyzen is giving a started squawk of a cry as he's suddenly hoisted up by Kimmila and plunked into Th'ero's waiting arms. "No, no, NO NO! NO Harness!" Kyzen's voice is very skilled at rapidly picking up octaves and levels not possible in an adult and oh-so ear piercing loud as he becomes some writhing creature in his attempt to evade the bluerider's attempts. The Weyrleader is just blank faced through it all, though the red tinge to his cheek and neck may not all be from trying to hold a squirming, tantrum throwing toddler. "Morning Abigail." he mutters when he can. "Morning to you too Borodin! He didn't shake you too hard, did he?" So much for escape!

It's late morning and another crisp, cool and clear autumn day and the orchard is filled with workers, weyrbrats and youths, volunteers and other curious folk as the harvesting of the late season fruits, berries and herbs has begun. Organized by the Headwoman and others, she is currently situated at 'base', where all the supplies and other necessary tools have been organized and gathered. Most have wandered off into groups, either on their own or ordered to either to harvest or help pack and store what is being brought in. At the base of one tree, the Weyrleader is currently holding his uncooperative son while Kimmila is attempting to outfit him in a harness. Abigail is with them and Borodin… is trying to vanish up into the tree itself?

Kimmila shakes her head. "If he's doing something stupid, stop him, please. I don't want Borodin cracking open his skull because no one wants to discipline the Weyrleader's son. Kyzen. NO," Kimmila says with a swift flick to his leg. "Stop it. You know how this works. You show us you can't run off, and we'll take it off." Buckle, buckle, button, Pern needs velcro…

They're just so similar, sometimes. Down to the loud yapping and - "Uh, no sir, I'm fine," Borodin says from up in the tree. "There, uh, may be a few bruised apples. But, uh, they'll make good cider." See? This is what he's learned of vintnering so far: how to take a situation and figure out how to get smashed because of it. Borodin glances at his basket and reaches out to pluck another apple before starting to carry it down. Yeah, it's not full yet, but… until that harness is on… he'd rather be on the ground. Even if that means having to actually look at people. He bobbles his head to Th'ero and Kimmila. "Good morning."

Being one who aided in the organization it's no surprise when the assistant Headwoman of Fort put in an appearance into the Orchards as well. Dressed for the occasion Angelique's donned some darker colored shorts that are quite short and a plain brown tunic with a matching vest over it. Her hair is plaited back today with ribbons interwoven into the braids. Approaching the small group that she recognized several people in it, she can't help but remark with amusement. "I wouldn't hesitate to discipline him if needed." says the women with no child skills whatsoever. A flashed smile though appears to hopefully make her words harmless. She does a good job of ensuring her words are heard over the outraged noises that the tantruming toddler is no doubt producing. "And greetings, Borodin, Abigail, Weyrleader and Kimmila."

Abigail looks amused as she hears Kimmila. "I wouldn't have let him yank the ladder out." She would have wrestled with Kyzen until he let go that is for sure, though that may have actually knocked the ladder out. Luckily they won't have to find out such things! "Ye can have the apple when yer parents say its ok." Which is most likely after the harness is put on. As for Borodin in the tree, maybe he and the tree are trying to become one? When Borodin is making his way down from the ladder she steps out of the way and pushes a few apples clear to make sure none are stepped on that would cause someone to fall upon. "How are ye both?" Or perhaps she should say three seeing how there is a third one there just his being very screamy at the moment. Her gaze turns over towards the voice of another, a smile and nod is seen. "Morning Angelique."

And hard on Angelique's heels, of course, is the not-dressed-at-all-for-the-weather assistant Headman, Zhirayr. Still dressed in black, black, and black with some black on top, and apparently completely impervious to the sun and the heat. "Weyrleader," is his choice for a first greeting, then "Kimmila, Abigail, Borodin, Kyzen." Yes, even the screaming tantrum-in-a-harness gets greeted politely. Zhirayr seems to be carrying a list as long as his leg, covered in scribbles of all sorts. "How many of what do you folks have so far?"

Jastre had heard there was some sort of organization being….er, organized. He wasn't around at the time workers and volunteers were chosen, but he heard about it from someone else, so he decided to come help. That's why he's late, but hey, better late than never, right? He slows to a stop outside the orchard as he hears a baby screaming. He has this look of absolute dismay. The volunteering wasn't for babysitting duty, was it?

"He's just headstrong and stubborn." Th'ero remarks dryly and with an expression to his face and a certain look in his eye that seems to dare anyone to quip 'just like his father'. Kyzen only pouts and glares at Kimmila when his leg is flicked and he sullenly allows himself to be hooked in. The Weyrleader sets the toddler down then and the child stares up at all the adult faces surrounding him. Abigail? Borodin? Angelique? How about you Zhirayr? You'll help him out right? RIGHT? No? Well forget all of you then! He hasn't seen Jastre, but his frustrated whining is loud enough to included him as the toddler — well, toddles — off a few steps, tugging at the harness and maybe kicking (in a fumbling way) at an apple. Pout, scowl, pout. As for Th'ero? He hands the leash to Kimmila. Her turn! "Sure about that Angelique?" Th'ero drawls as he nods a greeting to her, only to look back to Borodin as he finally comes down off that ladder. "Cider? From bruised apples? Hadn't known that. Kimmila is fond of cider… so I suppose we're off to a good start? Morning Zhirayr." he greets the assisant Headman, only to give him the once over for all that black. Not that Th'ero should be criticizing! Weyrleader is fond of the sombre colors too. At the list, he only blinks. "Uh, nothing? Only just got here ourselves." he admits and then to Abigail adds, "We're doing well. How is Niumdreoth?" Do not dismay, Jastre! There is no babysitting, though a youth wanders by and so helpfully offers him a basket before jutting a thumb over to the tree in a silent 'help harvest those applies!' gesture of suggestion. Or maybe it's an order?

Kimmila takes Kyzen's leash with a sigh, crouching down to pick up an apple from the barrel. "Kyzen," she says. Tug. "Want to have an apple? Fresh from the tree! Come here, Mommy will cut it for you." With her giant dagger that surely isn't safe around little kids. Taking his leash between her teeth, she pulls her dagger and starts to slice the apple, holding out a piece for their boy. "Be happy." Please? PLEASE?! Glancing up and around, she nods a greeting to everyone, but at the moment her main focus is heading off a possible tantrum that will ruin everyone's day.

Borodin blinks at Zhirayr. "Uh, well, I have some apples?" he offers. He's so helpful. See? There's the basket of them, right here. Maybe Borodin will stare at it to try and count mentally. Better that than looking at the screaming kid! He nods to Th'ero, though. "Uhm, well, yeah. The, uh… they get mashed up anyhow. So it's not like the bruises do any harm. And, uh, sometimes it makes it more flavorful." Probably best not to think about what flavors those are. Alcohol's a disinfectant, right? Right. And now Borodin will just sneak off to empty his small basket in one of the larger ones.

Angelique should offer to help calm the little one. One would think. Howevrer she simply flashes a toothy smile to Th'ero at his question towards her and a shoulder lifts in a shrug. "Sure I would. Discipline that is. It's easy enough for me to tell even short people the word no." just ask anyone who works under her! "I, however." she can't resist adding. "Am fairly certain I'm not going to have kids." any planned anyway! She turns to nod politely to Zhirayr as he comes in and then it's another nod in greeting to Jastre. "Good crew." she notes. Borodin's words about the bruised apples has her nodding. "Resourceful use of the bruised ones."

"Don't forget to count them!" Zhirayr calls after Borodin, scribbling more notes on his leg-page that probably don't actually have anything to do with numbers. His contribution to the bruised-fruit discussion is limited to: "Also making jam, I think, or — no — apple butter, that's what it's called. For whatever reason." He's not a cook; don't blame him for being confused, okay? Meanwhile, the Weyrleader gets eyed right back for the side-eyeing of Zhirayr's clothing. (At least it isn't doused in dust, okay?!)

Jastre accepts the basket, and his expression clears. Oh, ok, picking apples. Yep, that's something he can do. With a smile now, he nods to the ones present, then goes to a likely tree. Oh hey it's the guy from that dusty room the other day. He wants numbers, huh? Ok. Jastre looks up at the tree consideringly. Now, knock them down with a stick, or climb up and get them.

Abigail smiles to Kimmila and Kyzen. "I bet the apple will help." Well it is what the kid wants, right? Sure! She glances to Zhirayr and ponders the all black attire as well, she is even about to question it before she hears Th'ero ask about Niumdreoth. "His good, finally able to fly once more. Short distances for now, there still worrying over his wing." It was a rather good hit to it after all. "How is Velokraeth?" She figures the bronze is fine, but always good to ask just to make sure.

Kyzen pauses as he's tugged at and instantly his eyes hone in on that apple Kimmila is offering. "'Kay!" he all but chirps happily, wandering right back to her side and his apparent tantrum waylaid by the promise of FOOD. And it will be the bluerider's lucky day because he instantly velcro's himself to her leg, leaning up against it while he looks up with a patient (for now) 'so my snack is ready, right?' stare. Th'ero eyes the toddler for a moment, then his weyrmate and decides to shuffle a little closer to his son's side, incase the br—-kid decides that he does want to play with mother's dagger or something as equally as bad. "Figured no one wanted bruised apples for nothing. Guess it makes sense…" Th'ero goes on to murmur to Borodin with a faint smile, likely taking anything he says to be reasonable truth. The Weyrleader knows nothing about vintages or alcohol, beyond what is good and his preferences are. "How long have you been studying the Vintner Craft now?" he asks curiously before turning a curious look on Angelique. He snorts, lips quirking into a bemused tilt. "Not quite the same sort of discipline." As he's discovered! "And careful what you say, you may just jinx your luck! What's… apple butter?" Th'ero is now giving Zhirayr another sidelong look. That wasn't just made up, was it? And his tone just sounds a wee bit wary, if not disgusted, by the thought of apple butter. Knowing him, he's probably got it all wrong in his head. There's a nod given to Jastre as he approaches and begins to examine some of the trees. "Morning!" he greets and turns at last to Abigail and there is obvious relief in his features and his voice. "Good! I was… concerned that perhaps Velokraeth's tumble had done far worse. Are they worrying about strain?" It was a good hit and while the pale bronze has all but forgotten now, his rider has not. "Velokraeth is fine. He can see fine again from his eye and the bruising is all but faded and gone now. He came out relatively unscathed…"

"Apple butter," Zhirayr repeats with patient weariness, "which has nothing to do with regular butter, I assure you." Reassuring, even, we hope. "It's the name for apple jam. I don't know why. Maybe because it's brown." It's not like he knows why it's brown, either — but he's definitely taking advantage of the break in attention to scoop up a basket as an excuse, tuck his list-chart-paperwork-death-doom into it, and start reaching for the low-hanging fruit overhead. Mmmm, lunch. And now that his mouth is full of apple: "I'm glad to hear your dragons are all recovering well."

"No use in wasting them," Borodin says with a sidelong glance to Angelique. Her and people like her have nothing to do with all those creative uses for slightly-damaged goods. Nooo. Not at all. "Uhm, almost a turn," he answers to Th'ero's question, and then on the matter of appley butters and jams, he looks over to Zhirayr. "You, uh, actually, it's not. They're similar, but, uhm, not the same." Borodin shrugs. "It's about how much sugar you add. And how long you cook it. And… yeah." He ducks his head and looks at the basket of apples. Maybe they're looking back at him. "Uhm. Are we supposed to write it down somewhere…?" Or just count them as an exercise in counting things?

Kimmila has a kid latched on to her. Better than him running away? Still, it seems the bluerider is most comfortable with…a comfortable distance between herself and children. Even her own. But she smiles and gives Kyzen a bit of apple before wiping her dagger clean and sheathing it, locking it into place and standing, other apple bits ready for when the kid wants them. "Apple butter is so good," she says, looking around eagerly. "It's like…apple preserves. Like jelly, only…it's not jelly. It's like a sweet, cinnamon apple spread. Delicious. I hope we make some. Zhirayr. Make some." Snap snap. Make it happen! "Glad Niumdreoth is doing fine, Abigail. Had me worried there for a bit." Grimace. "I thought we counted what we actually could use, Zhirayr? The counting doesn't usually happen at this stage. It's over there." Where they're sorting and packing. "They should be counting." When in doubt, pass the mark.

Looking a bit concerned as she hears questions about dragon's health and stuff, it takes Angelique a few minutes before piecing together the injuries are from the flight. Curiousity flickers in her gaze briefly, no doubt wondering if all Gold flights bring so many injuries but that's one question she's so sure she wants to ask around so many people she doesn't know so well. So her question goes unanswered as her own attention turns to the trees. Apples to pick and presumably berries. Since the tree climbing vintner seems to have apples under control she turns to grab a basket to see what else she can find to go inside. She's listening though to the conversation about whatever apple butter is. A smallish apple is plucked and rubbed against her tunic in preparation of being eaten. "Not sure if a count is needed…" she trails off thought in uncertainty as she peers about the orchard to see if Talica is around.

Though late to the party, Solan is - nevertheless - arriving. A forest green backpack heavily hangs between his shoulders as the young woodworker strides onto the orchard grounds, course set for the main group of pickers. There are several faces he recognizes here and with a toothy grin, he's walking up and waving to Kimmila, Th'ero, Abigail, Angelique, etc. In his free hand is a wooden basket - sturdy and with foldable, latching lids - held at the ready to receive nature's bounty. "Good morning," Solan brightly greets known and unknowns alike. "How goes the picking?" A small green firelizard is actually /in/ the basket, laying down and munching a meatroll.

Abigail looks amused as she watches mother and son a few moments, a slight shake of her head is seen while she just smiles. At the talk of apple butter a glance is sent to Zhirayr, a raised brow caught and a soft ah escaping her. "Right.. Sounds.. lovely.." Not really, brown butter? Though she does look over to Borodin, whom was a cook! Once he goes about explaining it a bit more she nods a touch. Sure that makes total sense to her. A slight nod is sent to the talk of Niumdreoth and his wing. "Aye, a strain. There rather sure nothing was broken, still it was an unsure thing there for a few days." As for thinking about it, she gets to dream about it at times, her dragon falling and the chance he could get his wing open.. For a moment she's quiet, as if just talking about it there makes her recall it for a moment and she soon shakes her head, a glance sent to Kimmila, a soft smile seen and she nods. "Thank ye, and I'm glad that Velokraeth is well after all that."

Jastre decides that there are enough apples low enough for him to grab that he doesn't have to worry about either of those, and gets to work. As he picks, he looks over at the others. "Good morning." he calls over. He recognizes more people, and smiles at them.

"Then why is it called apple butter if it's not a butter but a… preserve." Or is it a jam? Th'ero only looks perplexed, if not compeltely lost as he glances between Zhirayr, Kimmila and Borodin. In the end he just sighs and shakes his head, "This is going to be one of those things I have to try to understand it, isn't it?" he murmurs with a smirk. He's so not sold on the apple butter wagon, even with his weyrmate's pitch on how delicious it is. "And it's working out well?" Th'ero goes on to press Borodin for more information, though at least tries to remain smiling as he does. "Morning Solan!" he greets the approaching woodcrafter, only to then shrug. "It's going. We may not be the most productive group, however. But I believe Talica has the others working at a decent pace to make up for it." he muses with a dry chuckle. Indeed, the Headwoman has got a system going and from her station, more or less center to everything, baskets and barrels of fruits and berries are beginning to pile in, with a few (trustworthy) folk set to sorting and counting. Back in their particular spot, Th'ero is giving Abigail one of his lingering looks once the Wingsecond falls silent, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Well… it's a good sign that he's been cleared for flight again and managing short distances. He's young, he'll mend and bounce back!" he says in a reassuring tone that masks his own concerns. "Thanks. Velokraeth's an old hat… unfortunately… at rough flights. Figured he'd have learned by now."

Kyzen has fallen silent while all the adults talk, content to stuff his mouth full with as much apple as Kimmila will feed him. But that only distracts him for so long and once his hunger is dealt with, he's itching to go explore again. So off he goes with hardly a backwards glance, ignoring the trailing leash behind him as he toddles his way right up to and a bit behind Jastre, provided the young man doesn't step away. Kyzen's all but at the end of that leash now, but it doesn't stop him from grinning and pointing. "What'doing?"

Kimmila shrugs at Th'ero. "Because it's so good you don't need butter?" she suggests, chuckling. "It's delicious, that's what you need to know. Hey, Solan. Welcome to the group." She watches Kyzen toddle forward and with a 'sorry, I'm attached to a child' glance to the other grown ups, Kimmila follows the kid towards Jastre.

Why? Borodin shrugs. "It just is." He has no better answer than that. Kimmila's might be better, though, and he looks to her and smiles. "Uhm, yeah, maybe." Then, he looks back to Th'ero. "Uh, yeah, it's… it's going well. I'm, uh, lots of studying, and practicing things," and scrubbing out things because it's not like being a vintner apprentice means he's done washing dishes, "but, uhm, Ianco - uh, my journeyman - says I'm doing well." Cue the hopeful smile, and then as the dragonflight is discussed, he shuffles over to pass off a basket and get another one.

The woodcrafter chuckles as the little one pulls Kimmila away. Solan offers the woman a look of amused sympathy before turning to Th'ero and saying, "Then I'm in just the right group." A wink is given - a hint that he's joking about being lazy - before he nods to Borodin, Jastrae, and Zhirayr. "I'm Solan," he offers, moving to join the picking process. The first of the low hanging apples is pulled and put into his basket. An irritated chirple comes from within, sparking a chuckle from the young man. "I told you the basket was for working, not naps. Sorry Brynn," he smirks down at the green, who has curled herself around the apple.

Abigail catches that linger look from Th'ero and lifts her head just a touch. All is fine, see? A soft smile seen and she nods. "Aye, he will be fine. Perhaps learn something from it too." Well she can hope. Niumdreoth doesn't have to worry about recalling such things as long as she does. The brown still remembers some of that flight, especially when his rider does so for now he is more than happy to keep himself down on solid ground, at least for the moment. Time for a change in conversation though and she looks to Solan, a smile and wave sent towards him. "Hello Solan, good to see that ye could come out."

Zhirayr stops interrupting everyone and busies himself with rapidly filling his entire basket full of apples, nodding appreciatively to Borodin Who Apparently Knows How Apple Butter Works, first, and then later shooting a grin at the Weyrleader. "Something tells me that it won't be impossible for you to find some to try, sir," he remarks lightly, and finishes his one-and-only apple before hauling his full basket off and coming back within a few minutes with another, emptier one. This time, though, his plan is to go high, and take advantage of his long reach and general scrawniness.

Jastre turns when he sees the kid coming up behind him, then lifts his gaze to Kimmila who has his leash. He smiles at her and then down at the toddler, pretending to drop an apple on his head but stopping it just short of him. He chuckles. "Picking apples, of course. They come from trees!" and he points up at a branch with a few still on it as proof.

Th'ero snorts as his eyes follow Kimmila while she walks forwards to follow Kyzen, "I've heard that 'it's delicious' line before and been sorely disappointed," he quips back at her with an amused smirk before shaking his head again. Borodin's confirmation and Zhirayr's remark on being able to readily find it only has the Weyrleader shrugging his shoulders. "Suppose so. Still think it's an off-putting name." he drawls, glancing to Solan and chuckling. "You sure about that?" Th'ero jokes right back and then blinks as he realizes he may very well be the only one not doing actual work. Way to set an image, Weyrleader! He'll fix that by snatching up a few of the last low hanging apples, as well as picking up some of the still-good scattered ones on the ground before dumping them all in the nearest basket, which may very well be Borodin's once he returns with a fresh one. "So is it a Craft you're looking to pursue beyond Apprentice?" he asks casually while brushing off his hands and offering that same slight smile that he extends to Abigail as well. Not quite convinced that the Wingsecond is alright, but he won't pry into it now.

Kyzen flinches a bit when Jastre mockingly drops the apple, only to burst out into a fit of giggling laughter and trying to grab it from his hands. His head turns when the tree is pointed to again, in a sort of semi-comprehending glance. "Trees…" the toddler echoes back and then begins to alternate between words in some jumbled nonsense of fracture sentences. Makes perfect sense for him but for everyone else? Not so much. It's then that Talica can be heard shouting at some of the weyrbrats, their answering shouts peppered with exclamations and laughter before the older woman is seen gathering her skirts and stalking down those trouble makers. During this, an orchard worker approaches with a simple nod and warm, welcoming smile. "You lot about done with these trees? We've got too many hands on the apples, not enough on the bushes and vines. Plenty of those left for the pickin' if you don't mind meandering over? Much obliged." He'll not really wait for an answer before moving off, likely helping himself to any full basket of fruit at least before making an exit.

"It is delicious, wingmate. Just wait. You'll lick your plate." Smirk. Yeah right, does he ever do that? Looking down at Kyzen, she flashes Jastre a little smile. Thanks for entertaining her child. At his babbling, she just frowns, concerned. "What?" Kid, you're making no sense. Looking up when the man comes over, she glances back to the group and looks down at Kyzen. "You want to go pick some berries? Go tell Dad you want to pick berries." Go on now!

"Uhm, hi," Borodin offers to Solan, and gives a sideways look at Zhirayr before shrugging. The kitchens are well stocked! Usually. Except when there are strange gaps, but… well. That's not where Borodin spends his time anymore, now is it? He extends his basket so Th'ero can deposit the apples in it, reaching up to gather a few more and then pausing to look at the Weyrleader. "Uhm, well, I think so. I mean…" he looks away, busying himself with picking apples. "It's interesting. And, uhm, I like it. So, yeah, I guess I'd want to continue it." Because that's why you continue crafts… right? Borodin glances to the troublemaking brats, then back to the orchard-worker. He nods, but… oh, he'll have to finish up this basket first. Well, that shouldn't take all that long…

Angelique was pulled away by the ever efficient Talica to work with her group for a little bit while Talica chats with her assistant. It's a good chat it would seem as the pair work efficiently together as they talk. Eventually their chat ends and Talica moves off to help nudge along another small group that just arrived to get started. Or in layman's terms to simply holler at the troublemakers. Can't be too stern! Will that be Angelique in so many years? One never knows when Talica will decide she's had enough. Certainly the older women lives for this kind of work! This leaves Angelique free to return to her original group. Spying Solan she grins and waves his way. "Hey there Solan. Come to join in the fun eh?" a new empty basket is grabbed and the worker trying to nudge them towards the bushes and vines gets a chuckle from Ang.

"Abigail," Solan's reply is warm and bright, "it's so nice to see you again. Glad to hear your dragon is steadily improving," he grins, genuinely pleased at the news. "Angelique!" he chuckles as the assistant headwoman approaches. "You know me. I'm /always/ ready for an outdoors adventure," he smirks. More apples are deposited - causing Brynn to flit out of the basket in irritation - before the woodworker says, "I was told I'd swept enough floors for one morning and to get out here. Like I'd have to be told twice," he smiles, nodding to Borodin's greeting before moving with the others towards the berry bushes. To Angelique, he says, "Have you met the new healer apprentice? Kivastiel. She arrived last night," he comments to both her and Abigail. "Found her lost in the woods."

Abigail can be rather stubborn when it comes to talking about things, this is one of those times, and also she isn't one to talk about her problems in front of so many if it can be avoided. The apple she was still holding is tossed into Borodin's basket. One more for the cause. She picks up a basket and waves a bit. "I'm going to go deal with the stuff on the vines." Berries and the like, also means no more talking about certain things, escape found! Though she does pause to hear Solan, a smile seen and she nods. "Thank ye." Someone lost in the woods? This makes her peer curiously at the woodcrafter. "No I've not met her, or heard of her. Is she alright?" No true escape it seems, not until she goes about following Solan and Angelique towards the bushes instead of the vines.

Zhirayr is perched high in his apple tree, missed by the orchard worker, and completely distracted by watching Boss Lady yelling and stalking after the trouble-making brats. On the bright side, this means he isn't teasing the Weyrleader about his utterly wretched taste in condiments, right? Sure, that's it. Meanwhile, he's still plucking apples off the tree on autopilot, which is absolutely fine until that's actually a sleepy firelizard freaking out at him and he and the basket both topple. (Zhirayr, at least, manages to catch himself on a lower branch. The basket doesn't have hands, and doesn't.)

Jastre lets the kid take the apple, then looks over as people are called to go pick berries instead. He hesitates, not knowing if he should stay where he was, or go help. If EVERYONE went to pick berries, who'd pick the apples? "Are we done with these then?" he asks, looking towards the others.

Th'ero scoffs out lout to Kimmila's claim that apple butter is so delicious he'd lick his plate. As if! The Weyrleader barely eats a full meal, let alone doing that! But his curiosity is piqued and perhaps once all is said and done… he'll seek out some of this fabled food staple. "So long as it is interesting and you're enjoying it, that's all that matters right?" Th'ero goes on to tell Borodin, though he's now pinning him with a lingering look for all the hesitating and uncertainty. "We could always use a few more vintners! What have you studied so far…?" His curious and now prying mind wants to know! Apparently. The Weyrleader was never really good with small talk and even in a group like this he's floundering a little and looks almost relieved when the worker approaches. With most of the group already preparing to branch off, Th'ero lingers as the last to go. Meanwhile, Kyzen is still glancing up between Jastre and Kimmila, his babbling ceasing the moment the apple is his to take. Turning it curiously in his hands, he then cocks his head and eyes the basket Jastre has and promptly attempts to drop it in before peering up at Kimmila. "Okay! Go pick berries!" he says cheerfully enough and is about to wander off back to Th'ero when Zhirayr makes his tumbling exit, basket and all, out of the tree. Something Kyzen finds hilarious and entertaining, though it's drawn concern from the Weyrleader as he approaches. "You alright?" he calls to the assistant headman, grimacing a little and motioning for Kimmila to come take Kyzen down to the berries. He'll have to take over after he's dealt with this.

"Who got lost in the woods?" Kimmila says, glancing back at the group as she lets Kyzen start to lead. Only to stop and start when Zhirayr takes his tumble. "We don't laugh when people hurt themselves," she murmurs to the kid, before she's nodding and heading slowly in the direction of the berries. Slowly because…that's a cool rock. And an interesting bug. And what's that??!

Small… talk? Borodin can make small beer instead, how's that? He'll just do a second run of the mash, and it'll all be good. Maybe it'd make the conversation easier? "Uhm, yeah." He nods. "Mostly, it's… going through the process. Brewing takes a while, so there's a lot of things in progress. Preparing the hopper, making the mash… uhm, I'm mostly working with beers and liquors, not so much wine, but there's some of that. Not as many grapes here as… some other places." Famous-er places, for wine. Borodin extends his basket to accept other apples, gathering them together to make a nearly full one - and then starting back to deposit it, only to stop as Zhirayr falls. Eep! Stare.

New healer? Angelique's head shakes in negative affirmation that she's not met the newest healer. "Not met her. Lost on the way here eh?" she asks with some confusion. "She come runner back or something I suppose?" or perhaps Ang's envisioning her walking all the way from…healer hall perhaps? One never knows. Off to pick berries she goes, falling mostly silent to listen and nod here and there at the conversations around her. She doesn't notice Zhirayr falling from the tree either as she strips bushes from their berries.

"She was a bit scared, I think," Solan replies to Abigail, his hands reaching forward to pick at the berries. Cognizant that Kimmila's come up to join them, he nods to her and says, "She almost drew her knife on me. To be fair," his thoughts drift back, "I did sort of pop into her little camp without notice. And I do kind of look like a bandit, I guess." Picking more of the tasty little fruits, he says, "I was out exploring on my restday," which is no surprise to those who know the woodcrafter, "and saw smoke coming from deep in the woods. I was afraid it was a forest fire. That would have been /terrible/," he remarks, some strange, far off sadness in his eyes. "Anyway, once she calmed down, I helped her find her way here." The business back at the apple trees goes unnoticed as he tells his tale. "She seems nice…a little odd, though."

Abigail peers at Solan as he goes about telling the tale of the healer he found off in the forest. "I see.. Well I'm glad she is already, and no harm was done." Pause.. "Was the smoke just from her camp then?" Because if there is a fire somewhere else that could be a bit of a problem. She goes about working on picking the berries, careful not to mush then up or anything like that while settling them into the basket she has. As for the falling and dropping of apples over by the trees she has her back to them so can't actually see what is going on right now.

"OW." Zhirayr's noisy, as he falls — crashing through several branches will do that, along with his muttered swears. And now he's busy just sort of… sitting there. Hanging out, sprawled across more than one branch, holding on desperately for dear life, and all of that. Never mind that his butt is hanging freely in mid-air, at just about the perfect height for someone to… point out how easy it would be for him to land safely on the ground. Let's go with that. Wait, were people talking to him? They're going to have to wait for an answer until there's enough breath knocked back into his lungs for more than the cursing.

Jastre belatedly notices Zhirayr falling out of the tree, and belatedly moves to catch the basket. Except he's a little too late for that, instead stopping short and raising his eyebrows at Zhirayr. "Uh…. the ground is right there, you know… I don't think it'll mess you up too badly if you just dropped." Jastre will point that out, yes. He excels at stating the obvious, after all.

If Borodin makes some small beer rather than small talk, he'll never be rid of Th'ero. EVER. They'd be the bestest buds… or something. "Mhm, it's true that the Fortian region isn't really known for our grapes or our wines. I can't even imagine the process involved but with preference to beer myself, or ales and ciders, I'm curious. Will you ever experiment with your own brews or is that far off yet?" he asks, still keeping his tone light and casual. The Weyrleader is oblivious for now of any mention of a lost Healer, but give him a moment or two and he'll clue in. His attention has wavered from conversation to Zhirayr's situation (and condition), flinching and grimacing again as the man comes crashing down. And Th'ero, along with Jastre, would be those two guys to point out the obvious — though Jastre does a far better job at it. "Think you can get down on your own, Zhirayr? Or are you hurt?" Th'ero asks, though he doesn't actually approach any further. Some big help he is!

Kyzen does lead Kimmila on a wonderful detour of starts and stops until at last, at last, they make it to the berries. Along the way he'll peer up at his mother and innocently ask, "Why?" It was funny! Borodin hitting his head, Zhirayr falling… he doesn't know better! Funny is funny to him. He hesitates by the new and unfamiliar plants, blue eyes peering in silent observation as Solan picks at them, as does Abigail. But for once, Kyzen doesn't seem so certain and turns to Kimmila with an hesitant look. "Berries?" he queries. He needs a How-To Guide, apparently!

Kimmila blinks at Solan, and then laughs. "Drew her knife? Sounds like me. And you don't look like a bandit." She would know, wouldn't she? "Odd how? Healers shouldn't be odd… Borodin! When are we going to get to taste something made /just/ by you, start to finish? And if there was a fire I'm sure the sweep riders would've seen it. I mean a large fire. Something that needed to be taken care of." Glancing down at Kyzen, she nods and reaches out to pick one off and hold it out to him to examine. Or eat. "Yup, see? Berries. You have to be gentle though, or else they'll squish and no one can eat them." Does she like that outfit on him? It's about to get ruined.

…or something. "Well, uh," Borodin looks away for a moment, then scoots to pick up another apple and his thoughts. "I've done a couple of… uhm. Sort of experiments, making up ingredient lists, but they've got to be inspected before they got made. Because, uh… apprenticework and… all that." He looks away again. Almost like maybe he's leaving something out. Or maybe that's just Borodin being himself. He blinks up at Kimmila's question. What? Why would anyone care about… "Uh. Well. I've… done all the steps. So I guess I'd just need, uh… permission to try one." Imagine it. He certainly is! "But," he's quick to add, "It might not be any good. The, uh, the ones I've made have always gotten changed before the batch is made. Because, uhm, it's hard to get things right. And it'd be a… a month, anyhow." He stares at the dangling Zhirayr, but since the others seem to have dealing with the person under control, Borodin starts scooting about and picking up some of the fallen apples. For cider!

"Just her campfire," Solan nods. "She'd wandered off the path and gotten very turned around. Thankfully," a note of pride creeps into his voice, "I've been memorizing my way around out there." To Kimmila, he says, "Something about not being able to go home again. I think she's some kind of daughter to a court lady?" He shrugs at that, continuing to pluck berries from the bush and carefully put them into his basket. "She was pretty, young, and alone. If /I/ had seen me stumble into camp, I'd have thought I was a bandit, too." He smirks at Kimilla as her attentions turn to Borodin then turns back to Abigail. His voice lowers a bit and he says, "Did you smack that girl the other day? After I left?" Obviously he means Polana.

"I might be," Zhirayr says cautiously — and upside-downedly, because he's let go of the branch he's holding onto with his hands, and is now dangling by the knees alone. And not, quite, brushing his hair in the dirt, or polishing any apples with it, either. He's still a little bit red in the face, but that's just because of gravity, right…? "Did anyone get the name of the firelizard who ran me over?"

Jastre suddenly snickers. "That's the strangest looking fruit I've ever seen, though it looks like his color is getting closer to the rest. Might be ripe soon." he laughs at his own joke even if no one else does, and offers his hand so the guy doesn't end up hitting the ground headfirst.

Th'ero nods his head slowly, though it's hard to tell if anything Borodin just told him is really sinking in. The Weyrleader pieces together what he can though and offers that same neutral smile that he figures is friendly enough. See? He's trying to be social! Sort of… really, awkwardly. "Right, apprenticework. Still, you've got to start somewhere, right? And some apprenticework isn't half bad! Experimenting is the only way to learn right? Practice makes perfect and all that… usual stuff." Fumble. He clears his throat then, "If you do get permission and the batch turns out, let us know? I'm always on the look for new brews. Since the ones I prefer are often hard to come by." Not to mention close to being poisons in their own right! Anyone who's seen the vicious looking ale the Weyrleader drinks probably wonder how he doesn't keel over on the spot from a mug of it. To Zhirayr, Th'ero only stares at the man as he continues to hang, now upside down, from the tree. "Is that what spooked you?" he asks and has to promptly bite his tongue and duck his head down to hide the sudden grin that Jastre's joking brings on. Don't laugh, don't laugh. Cough. "Right. Maybe we'll stick to berries then?" he drawls, glancing between Zhirayr and Jastre before turning to trek down towards where the others have drifted now that he's certain he won't have to be sending for the Healers. "What's this about looking like a bandit?" Th'ero chimes in with a curious look as he comes to stand by Kimmila's side and reaches down to ruffle Kyzen's hair in a distracted manner. Which of course only has the toddler evading and half-protestingly batting at the bronzerider's hand, more interested in examining the berry Kimmila picked and gave him. Which, of course, gets mostly squished before eaten and then Kyzen is going for it as he moves forwards and begins clumsily plucking berries — or, rather, smooshing them and taking a good chunk of the plant with each fistful. But it keeps him busy! For now.

Kimmila listens to Borodin's rambling reply with some confusion, but in the end all she can do is shrug. "Well, let us know." To Solan, she tilts her head and listens with a little frown. "Not go home again? Huh. Well. The weyr gets lots of folks like that. Hopefully she finds a home here, so to speak." Looking over to Zhirayr, she grins a bit wickedly. "Maybe someone should tickle him." Ah. So THAT'S where Kyzen gets it from. Do as she says, kiddo, not as she does. Glancing up when Th'ero returns, she holds out the leash. YOUR TURN.

"Uhm, okay," Borodin says with a glance to Th'ero and Kimmila both. "I, uhm, will. Once I've got something to show." A headbobble, and then… he flees! Or at least applies himself very busily to gathering a few final apples and taking them over to be counted.

Abigail smiles and nods to Solan. "Well that is good to hear, glad it wasn't anything bad. Some more berries are plucked and picked and dropped into the basket and so forth. There is a pause and she blinkblinks before looking to Solan. A faint grin is seen. "Nope.. Not that time at least." Though Polana does know how to poke and kick her buttons so really it could only be a matter of time before the other gets smacked over something. Though really she does try to behave.

The woodworker quickly fills Th'ero in about the healer he'd found lost in the woods. "Kivastiel," Solan intones her by name. To Kimmila, he says, "I told her how much I enjoy living here. And how good the people are," he smiles warmly, his eyes roving over several of the very folk he'd had in mind when making the comment. "She's very pretty; I'm sure she'll have no problems making friends," Solan chuckles softly until a very anxious firelizard flits back onto his shoulder in a frenzy, her eyes whirling with anxiety. The images he gets from her are a bit confusing - after all, he is still as new to telepathy as she is to things like NOT stealing - and so the episode with poor Zhirayr takes a moment to sink in. Turning back, he offers, "Sorry about that. She's not long out of the egg." As if that should be explanation enough? When Abigail admits to NOT hitting Polana, the young crafter nods approvingly. "That's good. Was getting a little hairy there for a moment," he snarks.

"That woman," Zhirayr grumbles, and plants his hands on the ground (and not on apples) and neatly, acrobatically flips himself back upright again with a kick forward. He straights up with a care for low branches, dusting off his hands, and then starts brushing his clothing back into order with pained dignity. Solan gets a tight-lipped, moderately-friendly smile; hatchlings will be hatchlings, and all of that. "My apologies to her, too," he adds.

"But anyway, I didn't see any firelizards, so… no, to answer your question." then Jastre points towards the berry bushes. "Heh maybe you should go pick berries, I don't think that would hurt too much unless there's thorns." he starts trying to pick up some of the apples that fell out of Zhirayr's basket when it fell, looking them over to see if they're too damaged.

"We'll hold you to it!" Th'ero calls back to Borodin, which… probably won't be very encouraging at all. Hello, stress? The Weyrleader's attention has been drawn back to Solan now as the woodcrafter fills him in and he frowns heavily. "Lost and skittish? She does seem a touch odd, though I suppose she was simply spooked being turned around in unfamiliar territory." he murmurs and yet something nags at him. Kivastiel… has he heard that name before? Something Solan says next has Th'ero snorting in mild amusement. "Very pretty, eh? And how does that factor in to how well she'll get along here?" he drawls and his tone is serious, but his eyes gleam with a teasing light to them. Yes, he's just pulling on the woodcrafter's leg a bit. As Kimmila hands over the leash, Th'ero exhales heavily and takes it from her. FINE. "Easy Kyzen. Be gentle— NO, don't eat the plant!" he exclaims, promptly reaching down to fish out the leaves and other not-supposed-to-be-eaten parts of the bush from the toddlers mouth. Ugh! Kyzen only looks perplexed and confused. What? There were berries on it! He fusses of course, swatting at his father's hand impatiently. "Want more berries!" he complains, already reaching to grab a few more but this time only takes the fruit. Th'ero exhales with a shake of his hand, looking down at his now sticky hand. Eew. "You got a rag or something, Kimmila?" he asks the bluerider, though he looks up to the others as well. Anyone?

Kimmila arches a brow at Solan. "That's twice you've described her as pretty." Wink wink, nudge nudge? Grinning over at Th'ero, she is momentarily amused at his sticky misfortune. And then fetches him a rag. Because she's nice like that. "So. Anyone have good berry recipes? We're going to have to find uses for these when we get back…"

Abigail chuckles softly as she hears Solan and can't help but grin. "So.. Did ye find a new friend then?" Yes he has described her as pretty. "Going to ask her out?" Yup she just asked that. Well it doesn't deal with her personal life so she can ask, she also isn't the one talking about someone being cute or pretty so it was just bound to be brought up in her book. "I can get a few from Borodin on it Kimmila.. He knows how to make some good berry pies."

"Well you know," Solan replies to the Weyrleader - who he seems to be interacting with without so much nervousness now - "pretty girls get a lot of attention and" Ah, Th'ero was joking. He chuckles, too, until Kimmila speaks up. Then that nervousness DOES come back, as well as a slight flushing of his face. "Heh, is it?" Solan asks innocently. It's when Abigail asks if he's going to /ask her out/ that the freak barrier breaks and suddenly he's looking everywhere for an excuse to get out of the conversation. "Looks like Merin needs some help over there!" he nods to another girl, struggling with a heavy basket laden with too many apples down the way. "Um, I should probably go help her." He smiles politely at them all before backing away with as much haste as is non-rudely possible. "See you all later?" And BAM! Off he goes, clearly a bit too uncomfortable with the conversation's turn.

"Get berries, add cream, sprinkle a tiny bit of sugar on top," is Zhirayr-the-No-Really-He-Is-Not-A-Cook's advice to Kimmila, now that he's got himself more-or-less put back together. His color is much less apple-red, now, too. He crouches halfway inside the briars, now, and begins rapidly picking berries with skill born of much practice, stripping out all the ripe-or-ripe-enough berries and leaving behind those that need some more time for the next round of harvesting, managing to completely miss the discussion of how pretty Polana-or-Kivastiel-or-whoever is or isn't in the process.

Jastre follows to the bushes now, looking them over. He's good at picking them himself, what with the turns he spent foraging for food up and down the coastline. "Seems like I came to the Weyr at a good time, not only is the weather great, but there's plenty to do."

Th'ero will continue to watch over Kyzen like a hawk while Kimmila (so nicely!) fetches him a rag. The toddler seems to have grasped the concept now and the Weyrleader sets a basket down so that some berries can actually go in it. How many will actually be useable by the end is another question but… if it keeps the kid entertained, he'll amuse him for now. "Thanks," he murmurs to Kimmila and begins to wipe his hand clean before stuffing the rag in a side pocket. At Solan's discomfort, Th'ero only grins. Ah-HA! Caught! Red… faced? "Clear skies, Solan!" he says in farewell to the woodcrafter, though he shoots Kimmila a little sidelong look that extends to Abigail as well. Wink wink, nudge nudge, indeed! "Either of you know this… new Healer?" he asks. As for suggestions, Th'ero begins to speak up, "Cream and—" Oh wait, there's Zhirayr with the same idea and the Weyrleader promptly smiles crookedly. "Yes, there's that. Or jams, I suppose. Only recipes I know are for accents to fish dishes… and we don't have the right tropical types for that." he goes on to murmur with a shrug of his shoulders. To Jastre, Th'ero chuckles heartily and begins to pluck a few berries that Kyzen has left behind unscathed. "Summer and Fall tend to be good times here. Weather is favorable, as you said. Winter isn't so bad, it just depends on where you are. We get snow, but not as bad as further north."

Kimmila shakes her head, "Haven't met her," she admits. "But now I'm super curious to see if she's good enough for our dear Solan. Oh, Jastre, there's always plenty to do. During the winter we just get inside stuff done. Mmm. Berries and cream…yes, please. And pies! Yes, all of those. You know, we should have a berry cook off. Like a harvest gather festival…"

Abigail chuckle softly as she glances after the fleeing Solan. "Perhaps I shouldn't have asked that.." Though a soft laugh does escape her and she nods to both Kimmila and Th'ero, wink wink, nude nudge indeed. "I'll just have to ask him on it again later." Better believe that she will too. "I'm sure there will be plenty of recipes to be thought of with the things we gather today." For sure.

"Well I mean, more than usual, of course there's something to do all the time. But harvest time is always extra busy, now and in the fall." Jastre picks several more berries, mindful of the thorns, and looks around the group. "Uh… well I haven't really introduced myself to everyone here, not officially, right? I'm Jastre, thank you for letting me stay at your Weyr."

"And Jastre, here, is also willing to bend his might to the occasional chunk of hard work," Zhirayr puts in, his hands still pick-pick-picking at the bush he's rapidly denuding of berries. "He helped me out in that horrible fire-trap of a pillow cavern, the other day." Unlike Polana.

Th'ero quirks a brow up at Kimmila and can't help but chuckle as he smiles crookedly, "What's with the protectiveness? Solan's a grown man, I'm sure he can pick his mates just fine." he teases her and hopefully that poor woodcrafter is far away and doesn't overhear what the Weyrleader is now saying out loud! Not that he's shouting it, but still… There's a knowing look given to Abigail and perhaps a wink follows or maybe he has something in his eye. "Oh, I don't doubt the abilities of the kitchen staff. Isn't Harmony a baker too? We'll find use for all of this and if we don't, then we get some Trades worked out and everyone profits." he murmurs, only to laugh at Kimmila's eagerness at all the suggested foods. "See? I've no worry at all that all these fruits will be gone before they spoil." Th'ero then frowns in thought. "We had a harvest festival last Turn. Could have a Winter one? Like Telgar Hold does." Cue a knowing look to Kimmila then, followed by a faint grin. "Well met, Jastre. Are you new then, to the Weyr?" he asks, before offering his own introduction. "Th'ero, rider of bronze Velokraeth." He skips the whole rank thing, the knot pinned to his shoulder is obvious enough. "Fire-trap of… what?" he directs to Zhirayr. Does he not know of the cavern? Doesn't seem so!

Kimmila snorts at Th'ero, giving him a pointed look and then shrugging. No reply, apparently. Then she brightens. "Oooh, I love Telgar's winter festival. It's so beautiful. We could certainly do one like that. A party, though. It needs to happen." Soon. "Oh yeah. Kimmila, blue Varmiroth's." She doesn't wear a knot. But..she doesn't give a rank either. "I love that cavern. Except I want to wash the pillows. I think a lot of them came from my mother's weyr. When I was growing up, it was covered in pillows. Literally. And now they're gone. So." HMM. One wonders.

Abigail chuckles softly and nods at the talk of Solan. "I'm sure he can. Doesn't mean we can't ask questions." If she wants to ask she will, it is just that simple! Her gaze turns to the talk of a pillow cavern that is a fire-trap. "We have a cavern full of pillows?.." This is questioned with a curious tone. Seems she didn't know about it as well.

Jastre shrugs at that, though his gaze flickers to the knot. Yes, that's the Weyrleader. Ok. "Ah, yeah, there was a room filled with dusty pillows, like he said, a fire hazard. I helped him clean it out. Not sure why there were so many pillows in there though. And yeah, I'm new to the Weyr. Been traveling on a runner around the outer edges of the continent for the past few turns."
"Not," Zhirayr interjects wearily, for all that his hands are just as energetic as before — and he's on a different bush, with a very, very full berry-basket beside him, on the ground, in ready reach of toddler fingers — "that we actually managed to clean it out. Just. It's cleaner. Better. Less dusty, better sorting, and some of the damaged pillows that had quality fabrics have been sent on to be repurposed."

"I'll have to speak to Telgar Hold's Lord and Lady about the festival. See if they don't mind us delving into some of their traditions, though I'm sure they wouldn't mind." Th'ero muses, "It'll give something for the Candidates to do anyhow and the rest of us. Kouzevelth is going to be clutching close enough into the winter season." The Weyrleader frowns again, but only in thought but his distracted state on the conversations has allowed Kyzen to get into mischief — harnessed or not! "A party? What kind of party, Wingmate? I cannot think of any theme or reason…" Does there have to be? Apparently according to Mr. Stick-in-the-Mud here. "I never knew of this cavern! Just all pillows? Nothing else?" Why does he sound so curious and interested in it? "You said they're all dusty though?" His gaze lingers on Zhirayr the longest, but then shifts to Jastre and Kimmila as well. Details! To Abigail, the Weyrleader only chuckles. "Never set you as the gossiping type or prying into the love lives of others!" he teases the Wingsecond. Meanwhile, Kyzen has woven his way around a few of the bushes and all the way to Zhirayr's basket, to which he promptly crouches by. Toddler balance is sketchy at best though and with a startled sound, he topples in, hands first, right into all those berries. SPLAT! Kyzen blinks and then grins that wicked little grin of his and proceeds to completely pulverize the baskets contents now that he figured out that smooshed berries = FANTASTIC FUN!

Kimmila blinks at Jastre. "You cleaned it out? Are you putting the pillows back?" Then Zhirayr is elaborating and the bluerider looks calmer. "I'm sure they wouldn't," she says to Th'ero. "They seemed nice enough. We could even invite them. And does there have to be a reason?" She has lost total track of her son, since when she doesn't have the leash, the kid is not her problem!

Abigail can't help herself and grins to Th'ero a shrug seen. "Not often.. I'm mostly doing it to pick at Solan for bring up how pretty this girl is about half a dozen times." So any other time she would just avoid it? Perhaps.. Unless it was Borodin, then all bets are off! "Don't need a reason to have a party, just say party is this day and this time and thus have fun." See? Easypeasey! A glance is sent between the ones talking on the pillow but she pauses and glances downwards to catch sight of a certain little tot getting into berry smooshing. "He.. Would be great use with the vintners at this rate.." This said with and amused tone and she tries to hold back a snicker.

"Oh yeah, the pillows stay for the most part, and it wasn't just pillows in there, though they were definitely the most obvious things in there. Don't usually see that many pillows all in one place, though I wouldn't want to sleep on any of them, even after we tried cleaning up most of the dust." at Abigail's words, Jastre blinks at her, then looks to see what she's referring to, and hides a grin. Oh whoops. His gaze flickers towards Zhirayr to see his reaction to his hard work getting ruined.

Zhirayr's quick fingers slow and stutter to a stop, and he sloooooowly turns to regard the gleeful, toddler-fueled destruction of his handiwork. Several seconds pass as he stares down at Kyzen, and then he heaves a sigh, starts to pinch the bridge of his nose, realizes his hands are still stained by the berries and he doesn't want his face to be, and casts an irascible look on the Weyrleader: This Is Your Fault, Th'ero, And Don't You Forget It. "Looks like we'll be having some berry jam to go with your apple butter," is all he says, though.

"Invite Telgar? That… would be a first, I think." Th'ero admits. A first for a very, very long time to judge by his tone. "I'll discuss it with Dtirae and perhaps Elara. I believe our relations with Telgar Weyr are… reasonable." Cue some careful censoring there, as the Weyrleader remembers at the last second that he's out in public and him airing such things may not be wise! Glancing between Kimmila and Abigail, he only gives them a confused look as the whole concept of a party without reason goes right over his head. "YOU two organize it then, if you think it will beneficial!" he says with a smirk. Was… that an actual order or was he just joking around? As for those pillows, Th'ero looks almost disappointed by Jastre's evaluation of their condition. Drat! "Pillows can actually be quite comfortable if you have the right ones. And clean ones, obviously. From where I'm from, the beds were mostly pillows. Just covered in them. Also used in place of chairs." Hello pillow-nest? The leash suddenly goes taught in Th'ero's hand and that is his first snap back to realizing that he's neglected keeping an eye on Kyzen. The second is Zhirayr's irascible look, to which the Weyrleader just frowns back. What? What'd he do—oh, sweet Faranth! "Kyzen!" Th'ero barks, which promptly has the toddler freezing mid squish, covered in massacred berries. Uh oh. He knows that tone and like any smart kid he totally BAILS. Harness or no harness, Kyzen is breaking for it but tries to go around Zhirayr, which starts to bring the leash around in a nice tight trip-wire as it sweeps unhindered sideways between toddler and father. Jump! "What your feet!" Th'ero calls out in alarm as he tries to close the distance and not wind up tangling people into things.

Kimmila shrugs at Th'ero, and grins. "Why not? They showed us such wonderful hospitality. Except that one girl." Scowl. Looking at Abigail, she's about to grin and start with the party planning when…"Kyzen!" THIS is why they foster. She can only watch in sad resignation at the scene unfolding. And…no. She doesn't offer to help. She just stays where she is. Th'ero was the one holding the leash, it's his problem.

Abigail just peers back at Th'ero at the talk of Kimmila planning a party.. Really.. For the Weyr? "Oh…" The things they could come up with for sure it would be a blast! What out Th'ero you my wish you didn't just hand over the reins so easily once things are said and done. Her pale gaze just rests on Kyzen as he is trying to escape and she bites her lip hard to stop from laughing. "As much fun as this is… I need to get this basket taken care of and start on another. I'll be back soon." With a basket of berries in hand she is off!

Jastre moves quickly to try and catch the toddler before he clotheslines poor Zhirayr, and makes even more of a mess. After all, he's covered with enough berries to make three jars of jam. "Whoops… hey, careful there!"

It's some more of Zhirayr's vaunted dexterity, here, that comes into play — there aren't any trees above him, and he, at least, isn't going to make the mistake of thinking that jumping into a blackberry bramble is a good idea. So, instead, he just jumps, straight up, at first, before twisting around enough in midair to jackknife into a forward handspring and then land, sprawling, safely out of the way. Damn this terrain! If it had been level, he totally would have nailed his landing. Hmmph. "I think," he manages to cough out, "that Kyzen needs to not be allowed near berries any longer."

Looks like a spark has been ignited for one party and festival heavy Winter! Shame the discussion was interrupted by a wayward and mischief seeking toddler! This IS why the Weyrleader agreed to fostering. Th'ero is not very savvy at all with children, especially very young ones and with how busy he is and prone to being distracted, well… this is the result. At least Abigail escapes and the Weyrleader can only watch as the Wingsecond moves off with basket in hand. Lucky woman! He'll try to seek help from Kimmila as well, but none is offered and so he only grits his teeth and starts reeling Kyzen in. Literally. The toddler is all but dragged backwards, though he continues to struggle to keep going forwards. Not exactly NICE but Th'ero's temper is being pushed to its limits. Zhirayr's choice of maneuver in evasion has him watching in distracted fascination, the leash going slack in his hands and allowing Kyzen his freedom again, until he's waylaid by Jastre. "Hi again, apple tree man—" Kyzen begins to sing-song cheerily and a bit breathlessly, just a hyper ball of energy, only to be cut off as Th'ero swoops in and hooks him under his arm. Berry slime and goo and all. HA! Kyzen squirms and wails a bit in protest, which only has the Weyrleader adjusting his hold and pinning him good and firm against his side. Nope, no escape. "Sorry, sorry. No, maybe he IS too young." Th'ero agrees with a grimace to Zhirayr, already beginning to step back. "You two alright?"

Kimmila isn't heartless, and she walks forward with a damp rag to start wiping Kyzen down. "Too young for just about everything," the bluerider mutters. "We should get him into the bath before he solidifies into a berry ball." Is that enough to stop Kyzen from squirming? Cruel, perhaps, but this is a woman who once burned a whole freshly killed chicken to show her daughter how dangerous fire was. Singed feathers, scorched flesh…yeah. Fostering. FTW.

Jastre gladly lets Th'ero take him out of his hands, he wasn't sure what to do with him, himself. Taking care of kids is not among his skillset. Even his own siblings were close enough in age to him that he never had to help take care of any, him being one of the younger ones. "Pretty cool move you did there, wish I could do that." he mentions to Zhirayr with an appreciative grin.

The child is being removed; Zhirayr breathes a sigh of relief, never so glad that he didn't have any of his own as now, and casts a smile at Jastre, instead. "Really, it only takes practice," he half-protests. "I've just been doing that sort of thing as long as I can remember — it's never too late to learn, though!" That's a lie; sometimes it is.

"I figured helping with the harvest would keep him out of trouble and entertained," Th'ero admits with a sheepish tone, holding Kyzen still while Kimmila wipes down the worst of the berry mess. The toddler isn't fighting so much now, too tired to resist. But tired means cranky and his half-coherent mutterings are starting to turn to tears. Uh oh. "Yeah, we probably should. And give him back to your brother too!" he drawls to the bluerider, before eying Zhirayr and Jastre once more. "Sorry again that he got underfoot," Literally. "And about your basket, Zhirayr. Good luck with the rest of the harvest!" As the day is still young and barely has the orchard and fields been touched! Th'ero's time there is done though and with his son firmly held under arm, the Weyrleader is beginning to make his escape. "Coming, Kimmila?" he asks and then bends his head down to whisper something else to her before he's moving away, Kyzen's half-sobs of protest fading with distance (thankfully!). Back to where Velokraeth waits, a few more moments spent to mount up, buckle in and take off to the skies for the short straight-flight back to the Weyr.

Th'ero whispers, "I think we have some parties and a festival to plan. Lets go get Kyzen washed and returned to Tlazio. Then it will be OUR day to spend. How about it?" to Kimmila.

Kimmila will happily make an escape with Th'ero. And the kid. "Thanks for letting us distract you guys," she says with a slightly rueful grin. "Sorry." Then she's following Th'ero, shaking her head and muttering.

Kimmila whispers "AbsoLUTELY." to Th'ero.

Jastre sighs, and then looks at the fields. "Looks like we'd better get working, though hopefully without young child-related disasters, hmm?" He chuckles again, and moves towards an untouched bush. HIS basket is safely off to the side, and he retrieves it. And that is what he is going to do for the rest of the day.

Zhirayr, in contrast, is going to go deposit his basket with a scowl into his boss's supervision. And after that, after all the toddler-smushed berries have become Someone Else's Problem, he'll get back to work, and continue to ignore the fact that he ought to be sweltering in all-black, and probably even chatter Jastre's ear off about the benefits of contortionism in a Weyr environment.