Make a Decision!

Fort Weyr - Weyrleader's Offices
Aged by time, this office has lived through the ages of Fort just as its counterparts have. But unlike the Weyrsecond and Junior Weyrwomen offices, this cavern is spacious and formed in a rough semicircle of three conjoined caves that were carved and modified Turns ago. The middle portion acts as a waiting room of sorts, holding only a few modest chairs and a simple tapestry to otherwise brighten up the plain stone walls. There are no windows here and the only light comes from well placed glow baskets. To the right, the smaller of the two adjoining caverns has been set aside for the Weyrwoman, a large desk situated in the middle and a bookshelf pressed against the wall. A small hearth allows for some warmth in the colder months and another cabinet rests across the room to hold various supplies, as well as several books, reports and records. More tapestries have been hung there, lending some color to room. On the left, the larger cavern belongs to the Weyrleader's office and the walls here are littered with a vast array of maps, as well as a tapestry hung behind where he would sit. The desk is large and the wood aged, looking old and a bit worn, but well tended too. Shelves and a bookshelf line one wall, crammed with rolled hides, other maps, books, reports and records and all arranged in an organized chaos. A small hearth has been built in here as well and various well placed glow baskets are hung to offer just the right amount of light in this windowless office. Both offices have stout wooden doors that have been carefully worked into the stone. They can be closed and locked if privacy is needed but are often left open.


With the previous night's adventures gone unnoticed as of yet, it gives the trio behind the adventures a few hours of peace. Th'ero of course retires to his weyr with Kimmila in tow, leaving D'ani to decide what he'll do with his "spare time". Not that there is much left until the next day dawns. And it dawns early, thanks to Fort Hold sending an urgent letter to the Weyr via firelizard and straight for the Weyrwoman. Probably a smart choice, as Th'ero would have shredded the letter (after reading it for himself, obviously). It just means the Weyrleader has to be a step ahead of things, doesn't it? Or it could be that he just so happened to figure they're going to speak to Nyalle at some point — so why not now? It doesn't take him long to wake and dress (longer perhaps to convince Kimmila to wake up and then decide whether or not to leave the bluerider sleeping after all) and have Velokraeth bespeak Dremkoth to ask for D'ani to make an appearance. Backup needed in the Weyrwoman's office! Stat!

Kimmila is going to sleep, kthx, and once she wakes up she's off to the cotholds again. So Th'ero is on his own. Nyalle is already up, already had her goldrider's meeting, and is already reading a letter from Fort Hold. And frowning. FROWN.

Decide? What's to decide? D'ani was tired to begin with before this little trip and he's even more so when it's over. He goes straight to the weyr of Inri and the babe, of course is awake. It's fairly simple to shuck his jacket, helmet, goggles, unharness Dremkoth, kick off his boots, send Inri to bed and zombie back and forth to comfort the child. Somewhere in the wee hours of the night the young father falls asleep on the couch, the babe on his chest. He's somnolent when that summons comes, groggily makes contact with Th'ero via Dremkoth to Velokraeth to let the Weyrleader that he's coming… He eases up, gently deposits the child with its mother in the bed and makes a quick scramble to wash-shave-dress. There's no time for klah, sadly, so he's looking exhausted as he enters the office, brown hair damp and dishevelled. Uh oh. There's that Nyalle-frown. The salute he gives the pair is accompanied by, "Guess you heard about our adventure." Heh. Weak, D'ani!

If either of them had the foresight or wits about them, they'd have remembered to bring a bribe of really good tea with them. Alas, they are without and so they must face a frowning Nyalle. Th'ero arrived moments before D'ani, though he hadn't had a chance to say anything before the Weyrsecond opens up with that line. Weak? Maybe not. He was aiming to say something similar. "Can I see that letter?" he asks instead, before Nyalle gets to ripping into their hides.

Nyalle can do both at once, as she eyes them both. "Kidnapping the Steward?!" she asks, her usually soft voice rising as she flicks the letter towards Th'ero. She doesn't throw it, just gestures with it sharply in his general direction. Snap. "/Tell/ me you weren't drinking. No, wait. Tell me you were so I have a /reason/ for this!"

D'ani is sleep-deprived. And thus mouth to brain filter is not present. Uhhhhm. What is he going to say to that? 'Doesn't no really mean yes?' would be the wrong thing to say in this situation. Definitely! So instead, he simply explains dryly, "He uh, wasn't exactly awake to say no." Well, to keep saying no, but details! As for drinking, he drops wearily into a chair and, eyes closed, runs the fingers of one hand through his unruly, damp hair. Were they drinking? "Not nearly enough to suit me," he grumbles without opening them. He could use one now? But he'd be wiser to have klah. And breakfast because he missed dinner, says his stomach, growling loudly in the silence.

Th'ero says very little during the time it takes Nyalle to snap that letter at him, which he plucks from her fingers and goes to stride by the hearth to read them. He'll leave it to D'ani to answer the Weyrwoman and while it may not calm her, it would be FAR better than what would come out of his mouth. Now it's his turn to frown as he reads the letter, taking his sweet time, before sighing. "Clearly the dear Steward has overreacted. Figured he'd make it seem like he was the victim in all of this." He sort of was. Sort of. Not moving from the hearth, he doesn't fold the letter to pass it back to Nyalle or even to D'ani to read. In a casual movement, he leans down juuust enough for the corner of the letter to catch a bit of the fire burning so brightly below it. He's going to enjoy the satisfaction of watching it burn in his hand too until the last moment where he casts the last of it into the fire. Done and done!

Nyalle turns to frown at D'ani. But she also looks confused. This sort of behavior she expects from Th'ero (and that weyrmate of his) but not from D'ani. "Wasn't awake?" His stomach rumbling has her sighing and getting to her feet. Skirts swishing, she walks to the door and opens it to summon a drudge, turning while she waits to eye Th'ero burning that letter. "Would you have let me read it if you'd gotten it first?" she asks him softly. Very softly.

There's the sound of fire in the hearth, but the sudden crackle of flaming paper accompanied by the brighter flare flickering on D'ani's closed lids brings them open. His mouth twists in a sardonic smirk, a faint one, but definitely there. He doesn't mind in the least not having read it. Likely can imagine what it said. He doesn't miss the confused look Nyalle regards him with and simply explains the wish to have had more to drink (because that's what he assumes she's confused about) with, "Was a long day with an aggravating meeting to top it off." His brows knit, recalling the scene. During her brisk trip to the door, he ponders his answer, making eye contact with Th'ero and flickering a half-wink. "He fainted. I…" Cough. "Took that as a yes and gave him a ride." And then there's that question of hers to Th'ero. Awwwwkwaaaaaard!

When are things ever NOT awkward between Th'ero and Nyalle? He'll hold the Weyrwoman under his gaze for half a second before looking away. There's her answer! A very silent but very obvious 'no'. She'd never have seen he letter as he would have destroyed it (with just as much satisfaction) before she ever saw it. "D'ani has the right of it. The Steward treated us with nothing but contempt since we first met with him. That letter is half lie, half poison and I've no doubt he's woven that tale to Lord Fort's ear too to gain sympathy. It's true, we did take him along but it was necessary and he wouldn't have done so willingly. No guilty man does." Say what and what now? Poor Nyalle. Thrust right into the middle of some half-formed puzzle and made worse by Th'ero's love of crypticness as he sorts out his thoughts.

Nyalle returns to her desk chair after placing an order with the drudge and sending her on her way. Then she looks at Th'ero and takes a slow, even breath. High road, anyone? "Why don't you start at the beginning, Weyrleader."

D'ani is at least happy to overhear the order Nyalle makes of the drudge. His fingers practically itch to curl 'round a hot mug of klah. He leans back in his chair, head thrown back to eye the ceiling while the silence stretches during Th'ero's nonverbal answer. The grunted grimace he makes is total agreement with Th'ero's assessment of how they were treated. "He tossed Fort's problem at us like we're drudges and practically told us to get it fixed without any information or help from them." He's still annoyed by that, yep. The words about guilt, now, that brings his head back down from ceiling-contemplating to send a quizzical look at Th'ero. Slowly, adding a new possibility into the mix, "He… wasn't exactly…helpful, was he? You think he's involved?"

"Why else refuse to go speak to the very cotholders asking for his help? What is there to fear, aside from the usual ambush of pleas?" Th'ero's tone is still flat and carrying that edge from the other night. His sleep was restless, as it is on many nights. Too much to mull over, too many thoughts racing through his mind. "And his behaviour… so unlike any Steward we generally encounter. We've never had grievance with Fort Hold. At least not from its Lord and Lady!" Nyalle's request to start from the beginning is met with an exhaled sigh. Not for her asking of it but because he's not even sure where to begin! "D'ani and I went to Fort Hold for our meeting with what I presumed would be the Lord Holder. Only it was the Steward who met us and as D'ani told you he was less than cordial with us. He mentioned how some of the cotholds would face a difficult winter and yet hardly seemed concerned as though the blame is to lay with them. He then tossed a list of cotholds at us and presumed we'd just go out and fix it."

Nyalle frowns, pausing only when the drudge returns with a tray of simple breakfast items. Including klah. Only when the young woman is gone does Nyalle speak again. "Did the Hold - or any cotholds - formally ask for our assistance?"

"Huh." The weyrsecond will mull this over before grumbly-commenting, "I thought he was being stingy. Or lazy. Or didn't want his incompetence exposed." D'ani still thinks the man ought to have been on top of this earlier and he's still a grumpy camper. He's silent while Th'ero explains things, but nods in supportive agreement about how things went down. The arrival of the tray brings him to his feet. Manners override mood for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. "Pour for you?" This offered to Nyalle first and then Th'ero. He'll be happy to do so and pass the hot mugs of appropriate beverage to each of them, waiting for them to take from the tray before finding a plate and selecting something for his starving self. "Thank you for ordering," he murmurs to Nyalle, gratefully lifting a steaming mug to her in salute. He settles then, takes a long draught of the stuff black, shooting Th'ero a look at Nyalle's question. Uhhh, did they? "Formally?" He sounds unsure. "Does it count if they looked gratefully relieved when I offered them stores from Fort Hold?" Faintly cheeky, that part. Blame the fact that he has klah?

Th'ero just flicks his hand in a neutral sort of gesture. "All signs of a guilty man, if you ask me." he grumbles in response to D'ani's opinions on the Steward's behaviour. He'll take some of that blah, but wait to be served last and adds his own quiet thanks to Nyalle's thoughtfulness. Honestly, she could have withheld on the food and drink! It'd serve them right. "They certainly look relieved to me. From what the Steward alluded to, some of these cotholds could very well starve this winter. And they ask for us to 'fix' this. How? Do they expect us to go begging south? Not even Drake's Lake produces enough to augment their stores."

Nyalle shakes her head to D'ani's offer. She already has her tea and has presumably eaten. Or maybe she wants to make them feel bad by eating in front of her. Who knows. "But they didn't officially ask? We're meddling in holder affairs again, Th'ero." And she does not like it when they do that.

If Nyalle is being reluctant about food, D'ani certainly isn't! He tucks into his food neatly but efficiently stowing it in his stomach while Th'ero speaks. There is a point (at the word 'meddling' to be precise) where he coughs and shoots Th'ero a guilty look. Where's Kimmila at with her wing currently? He swallows to clear his mouth, then calmly reminds Nyalle, "The Fort Hold steward asked the Weyr to help." Asked, demanded, assumed. Same thing, however obnoxious the man was going about it. More food nomming and he's back to listening. At one point he interjects with a growl, "If anyone ought to beg, it ought to be that blasted steward, not the Weyr. We can transport the stuff for him." But that klah, it's waking up his brain. "As for the replenishment of their stores, we could…hmn…track down those bad trades, require the perpetrators to make good on them? That'd do it, right?"

"We aren't meddling! In fact, THAT was tossed in our faces too. That we had the audacity to check in when we first heard the troublesome rumours," Th'ero grumbles irritably from where he continues to stand by the hearth. He makes no mention of Kimmila being out in the field, so to speak, with her Wingriders. He knows the Weyrwoman disapproves of the blue rider's less than traditional role within the Weyr. D'ani's suggestion is met with a thoughtful frown and he mulls over it further while sipping at his drink. "It's a start? It would depend on where this leads. Trader? Craft? What then?"

Nyalle shakes her head. "It is not our duty to go hunting down bad trades. We can transport Harpers, assist Hold guards if they /ask/, but other than that…we're overstepping our bounds as a weyr."

Damn, is D'ani ever glad Th'ero and Nyalle aren't weyrmates! The potential for this discussion to become a major blow between the 'leaders doesn't escape him. He pushes his plate aside, wipes his mouth with a napkin and settles back with his mug half-raised to his mouth. "Yes ma'am," he agrees mildly saluting her once more with his mug before draining, then lowering it. "I agree. That's the steward's job. Just…" He goes for calm, reasonable and rational, "You're aware that the steward likely won't send those cotholds lacking stores supplies from Fort Hold, our sweepriders will see distress flags out when they're starving and it'll be in the middle of winter when we get this landed right back in our non-meddling laps, right? And if it's all the same to you? I'd rather tote that lazy son of a bitch steward to hunt down bad trades than bury frozen corpses of fathers, mothers and children while explaining to their kin why we knew but did nothing to prevent it."

It's still not a good thing, weyrmated or not, that Th'ero and Nyalle butt heads so often. Truthfully, he doesn't mean to. They're just polar opposites most of the time but he's learned over the Turns to just bend a bit to avoid making her cry (or have both of them storm off). Holding his tongue, he allows D'ani to speak first and his gaze darts to him for the image he paints. He knows what he speaks of. Even he seems disturbed by those memories. "Nothing like that will happen again if I… if WE can help it. I've no intentions of overstepping bounds, Nyalle. Not unless we're forced to! We have to think too that if these cotholds fail, where are the people to go if they CAN survive travel in the snow? The Holds? Unlikely. They may come to us. Then what? Feed and house them out of our own stores while the Holds look on?"

Nyalle frowns at D'ani for the image he paints as well. "I am not," she says slowly and measuredly, "suggesting that we do nothing. Of course if people need help we will respond. We just have to do things though the proper channels!"

It's definitely not a good thing in either case. Just things go south worse with couples sometimes and well. He's just glad it's not heated. He's still too tired to have the mental energy to deal with all that. He nods to Th'ero, listens to Nyalle. "I don't think we were suggesting doing otherwise, Nyalle? The steward gave us that list, wants us to see to it." Which she now has. "Though-" he shrugs. He never wanted to do what he feels is the steward's job anyway. "If we wait," he says equally measured and patient, "we won't have anything to help them with!" He frowns, thinking and offers his last suggestion quietly, "Would you like us to send our riders to forage and hunt in the south, store extra and dispense when they do ask for help?" As far as he can tell, she hasn't suggested any action yet.

Th'ero lifts his free hand up to rub the back of it against his forehead and it's obvious then that the Weyrleader is struggling to keep his temper in check. "Sometimes going by the proper channels doesn't work! There are times we need to deviate. Something is WRONG here, Nyalle and the corruption could be in ranks of power. For one, that Steward! And if it's the Trader's… they answer to no one really but their own. We could ask questions but not push…" Not right away. He shakes his head, grimacing as he drains the last of his klah and sets the mug back on the tray. "Either way, we have to do SOMETHING! I am tired of this idleness." And someday Ha'ze is going to tell them all 'I told you so!', right?

Nyalle looks a bit surprised at D'ani's question. "That is not my place to decide. Riders are the Weyrleader's responsibility. All I can do is give you account of our own store situation. I can tell you though, we do not have enough to supplement any cotholds, and if we had refugees arrive we would be in a very difficult situation." Her eyes shift to Th'ero. "Then act."

D'ani's patience snaps on the heels of the back and forth between Nyalle and Th'ero, though it isn't expressed in shouting or slamming things. Instead he rises, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Yes Ma'am, seeing to Fort Weyr's stores falls under you. Riders fall under Th'ero. But it's a team ef-" Nevermind, his closed expression says. He's done. "I'm… going to check on Inri and Maiona." Yeah, their new baby girl has been named after his dead family's cothold. "Sir, Ma'am, you know where to find me when we have a plan of proper action!" He salutes crisply, turns and stalks on out. They'll hear his growled muttering fade with his footfalls. Should Inri and the child be asleep, he'll catch up on some Zs himself. Please, don't wake him until noon. Better yet, tomorrow!

Th'ero starts when D'ani throws his hands up in exasperation. Normally it's he who loses his temper, not the Weyrsecond! So he'll stare at the younger man, brows raised as if not quite believing what he's seeing (and yet completely understanding). He dips his head, not even trying to call him into order because, well… he agrees and figures he can always hunt the man down later to talk. Waiting until the door closes, Th'ero sighs heavily and turns to face Nyalle. "He has a point, you know? We need to be in this as a team. Not at odds. You don't have final say with my riders and I don't have final say in the stores and trade goods of the Weyr but that doesn't mean either of us can't voice opinions or come at a crossroads."

Nyalle looks startled at D'ani's departure as well. Then she looks at Th'ero, confused. "We're not at odds…?" Right? She doesn't think they are. "We're just working this out. Together. I'm not giving you orders."

Th'ero shakes his head and without a word he will settle himself into one of the chairs in front of her desk. Apparently he plans to stick around for awhile? "I'm not sure if I'd call what we just discussed 'working it out'. You seemed to counter both D'ani and I anytime we suggested action, then told us to act? Or for me to act. But what is it you want, Nyalle? Inaction or action?" Let's start from the top, shall we?

Nyalle frowns at him, clearly that wasn't how she saw how things were going between them. "We have to act. We just have to act correctly.'

Th'ero holds up a hand as if to correct her and that's exactly what he does. He keeps his tone level though. He's not wanting to argue with her, he's just trying to get his point across. "Sometimes to act you have to act outside of the correct means. The world is not black and white, Nyalle. It doesn't work that way."

Nyalle continues to frown. "Why not? It seems very straight forward to me. Go to Fort's Lord Holder and ask if they are formally requesting our assistance. If he says yes, then the answer is yes. If he says no, then we go to the cotholds and ask if they are formally requesting our assistance. What is so difficult about that?"

Th'ero snorts, "Judging from that letter, the Steward has made damn well sure that neither Fort's Lord or Lady will be too happy to see either of us. The man is corrupt." How does he know this? Grimacing, he taps his fingers restlessly against his leg. "There's nothing difficult about it other than it's already been done. The Steward is supposed to be the mouthpiece of the Lord when he's otherwise occupied. We were told to look into the problem. However I did not approve of the Steward's behaviour. The cotholders we DID see all but leapt on us the moment they realized we were truly there to help."

Nyalle lifts her hands, palms up, finally displaying some frustration. "Then go to the Lord Holder. Surely the Steward would not deny his Weyrleader entrance. Or should I go myself?"

Th'ero raises his hand up to pinch his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Why is it always so difficult for them to get on the same page? He's not about to feed Nyalle to the wolves, so to speak, so he stands to his feet. "No, we should go together. Will you send word then and be certain that they can meet with us?"

Nyalle leans forward to reach for her stylus and a piece of hide. "I will," she says. "When would be best for you to meet with them?"

Th'ero folds his hands behind his back and gives the Weyrwoman a look, quirking a brow. "Whatever time works best for you, Nyalle. If they'll even SEE us today." He seems so skeptical on the matter.

Nyalle smiles a little bit. Is she coy? "They'll see us today."

Th'ero frowns at her coyness. He's not in the mood for games. "You seem so confident that they will and yet you've not even sent your letter yet." Should they start taking bets?

Nyalle looks up at Th'ero, her brows lifted. "Why would the Lord and Lady of Fort Hold deny a visit from the Weyrleader and Senior of their weyr?"
"That letter that I burned? You don't think the Steward hasn't gone and cried to them?" Th'ero points out again and then gestures with some impatience. "Go and send the letter. I suppose we may as well get this over with."

Nyalle looks puzzled. "If the Lord would hear his Steward and then deny us his audience, then I have less respect for the Lord than I did before. He is a capable man. He will not be blinded by his Steward's opinion without hearing our side first."

Th'ero smirks and for a moment they are both in agreement on something. It's a brief moment however and then the Weyrleader is back to his usual reserved and grumpy self. "I suppose we'll find out." he mutters, while waiting on Nyalle to finish with the letter and send it by firelizard. What will they do in the awkward stretch of time it takes for them to receive a reply?

Nyalle sends the letter and rises from her desk. "If we are to meet with the Lord and Lady then I need to go make myself more presentable. If you'll excuse me?"
Th'ero bites his tongue and swallows his impatience with it when she goes to excuse herself. Really? Dipping his head, he will step towards the door of her office and open it, gesturing for her to step through first. At least he has some manners? "Of course. When you need me, have Kayeth bespeak Velokraeth."

Nyalle nods. "I will." And then she is gone, hastening up the stairs to her weyr to select the right outfit and do her hair. It's not long before Kayeth's mellow thoughts reach to Velokraeth's. « The Lord and Lady welcome us. »

Th'ero leaves the Weyrwoman's office as well, returning to his weyr to brood and prepare for this so-called meeting. By the time Kayeth summons them, Th'ero has dressed in his more formal wear, including his daggers at his hips. No sword today, even though he IS tempted. « How wonderful! » Velokraeth responds in kind but with honeyed sarcasm. Unlike the night before, the pale bronze is willing to fly to Fort Hold again.

Good, because if he wasn't willing Kayeth would have made him. The queen is glistening and resplendent, her hide shimmering all the colors of the rainbow in the pale autumn sunlight. On her neck sits Nyalle, the picture of a traditional Fortian Weyrwoman. Though her gown is not gather attire (as that would not be appropriate for this meeting) it is finely crafted and very proper to the occasion. Her hair is braided simply, and she wears no jewelry. Once Th'ero and Velokraeth are ready, the senior kicks to the skies and vanishes between, intending to appear above the Hold at the same instant as her Weyrleader. Image is everything, after all, and she knows how to make a grand entrance.

Velokraeth soars up after Kayeth and vanishes Between on her cue. When they reappear, the bronze has positioned himself carefully that he is still in time with her but leaves the gold to have the 'limelight' so to speak. It will be the same for when they land, allowing her to take the lead but he does not lag so far behind as to appear detached or separated. No, he makes sure the image of a "pairing" is upheld as they land outside the courtyard and Th'ero will further the image of a unified Leadership by treating Nyalle with all the courtesies expected between a gentleman and a lady.

They are united. Sort of. Nyalle smiles at Th'ero and takes his arm as they approach the opening Hold doors, the perfect picture of weyr leadership. Kayeth, meanwhile, takes a strategic position right over the Hold on its heights, settling down by their watchdragon with a low rumble of greeting, calling Velokraeth to join her for some snuggling. The dragons, at least, don't have to fake it.

Velokraeth won't pass up some snuggling with Kayeth, no matter where they are! He'll join her on the heights, while Th'ero leads Nyalle towards Fort Hold, stepping through the archway in the courtyard walls. Their arrival, of course, brings many of the holders to a pause in their work and they're stared at. A lot. "You're certain this meeting will solve our problems?" he asks quietly. They're approaching the Great Hall doors now and soon it'll be too late to turn back.

Nyalle lifts one shoulder in a small shrug as she smiles to anyone who stares. "It's a start," she murmurs.

Smiles from a Weyrwoman are going to get the gossipers going! A few of the holders smile back, but they're quick to whisper amongst themselves. What are they doing here? Th'ero ignores them all, unless they are close enough and make eye contact first. Of course, he was here just a day ago with D'ani and Faranth only knows what sort of tales have been spun. No surprise that when they step inside, the Steward isn't there to greet them? "I guess we… go and announce ourselves?" he mutters under his breath.

Nyalle looks a bit surprised when no one greets them. "No," she says quietly, "that wouldn't be proper. We'll wait." And the longer they wait, the worse it looks for the Hold.

Th'ero sighs softly. He's not usually the type to wait and he's not about to change his stripes now. "Perhaps they're expecting us in his office. It couldn't hurt." And he's really getting tired of being stared at by everyone in the Great Hall or passing through. Gently taking Nyalle's arm, he begins to lead her towards the stairwell that leads to the upper floors and where the Lord Holder often sees his guests in his large office.

Nyalle frowns, but one thing she will never do is counter Th'ero's authority in public. So she goes, and quietly, but she doesn't like it.

Th'ero knows she doesn't like it but he's wanting things to move along and perhaps is hoping to throw the Lord Holder off his guard IF the man is indeed against them at the moment. Which it turns out the man is not against them and the only one with a grievance is the Steward who still remains absent. Knocking on the door, they're greeted in a welcoming manner by the Lord Holder and given all the courtesies. Just like before, only it's understandable that the Lord Holder is confused as to the events that happened the night before. Nothing that can't be cleared up by some explanation, some apology on both sides and as many of Nyalle's questions and requests answered as the Lord Holder can see fit. By the time they leave, Th'ero's mood has improved — a little. "Satisfied?" he drawls quietly to the Weyrwoman as he leads her out of the office, not wishing to infringe on the Lord Holder's side.

Nyalle smiles up at Th'ero as they exit, and she nods. "Very. And you?" she queries, her eyes searching his face, trying (and failing, as always) to read his mood.

Th'ero's a very complicated man. Even those who think they know him, he can still surprise them. "Very." he admits to Nyalle as they step back out to the Courtyard. "So we can push ahead then? No more waiting?" Please tell him that after all of this, they're more or less on the same page?

Nyalle nods. "Yes. No more waiting. There are cotholds who need our help. I will see to the stores, see what we can spare, and I will start sending hunting parties down South, and also check in with Jajen to see what supplies Drake's Lake has to spare."

"I can give you a list of names of riders that can be spared to go south. The Weyrlings should be capable too. I'm sure M'icha would love to finalize their training that way." Th'ero offers quietly and then snorts when he brings up Jajen's name. They're passed the courtyard wall now and slowly walking down the path towards the landing field. "Good luck with speaking with Jajen. There is the… issue of Ha'ze as well."

Nyalle nods again. "Thank you," she says of the list. Then a slight pause in her step. "What is the current…situation with Ha'ze?"

Th'ero notices that pause and slows his steps in turn and stops for a moment to face her. His smirk should say it all, "Hard to say. I'm overdue to go and speak with him." Can't really blame him there? He's busy as Weyrleader but he could be hesitant too… given what happened last time.

Nyalle dips her head. "Is he still on the island, then?"

Log Incomplete! More to come!


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