True Fortian

It may be storming badly up in Fort, but Drake's lake is full in the grips of summer. Perhaps this fact is the only reason why Kainaesyth hasn't faded completely, though there is a tint of gray on his hide. In a field cleared from the forest over the last turn Ha'ze has turned farmer under Kainaesyth's directions. Sweat pours off of him as he digs in the dirt, keeping weeds away from his plants.

Nyalle and Kayeth are finally making the trip down to Drake's Lake. Why'd it take so long? Someone might be a little bit pregnant. Or a lot pregnant. Timelines are stupid. Kayeth circles first to make sure she doesn't land on a field, and then the Senior queen settles down carefully, rumbling a warm greeting to Kainaesyth.

Kainaesyth pushes himself upright, inviting the queen to settle beside him. Until… oh NYALLE. The bronze's attention FOCUSES on the woman, his head extending forward till his nose is just a little from that belly of hers. Carried upon cool winter breezes, just barely moving in the depths of the canyon, A single word. « Baby. » Just state the obvious there. Ha'ze brushes a hand across his forehead wiping sweat away. His greeting is less estatic than Kainaesyth's, "WEyrwoman." The shovel gets one hard shove, setting it upright in the dirt to come back to later.

Nyalle dismounts carefully, while Kayeth rumbles with pride. « Yes. Finally! » "Ha'ze," she greets with a little smile. "It's looking good here…"

Kainaesyth curls himself about the weyrwoman, just completely in love for the moment. BABY. RIGHT THERE. HA'ZE. BABY. Ha'ze just snorts once, and moves closer. "Congrats." A nod to the woman's stomach. "Why are you here?" Blunt, and to the point.

Nyalle laughs softly, reaching out to gently gesture towards Kainaesyth's head. She doesn't touch him, that'd be rude, but there's the gesture just the same. "You need to speak with the Weyrleader."

Kainaesyth has very different ideas of rude, and he closes the distance between himself and the woman, rubbing gently against her. Kainaesyth has missed the weyr, even if Ha'ze has steeled himself against any thought of it. His arms cross on his chest, a mullish set crossing his features. "I have nothing to say to Th'ero what hasn't been said."

Nyalle gently pushes at Kainaesyth's muzzle, while Kayeth wuffles with amusement. "There are new developments. You two will need to work together to resolve things."

But Nyalle~~ Kainaesyth straightens upwards, just staying in that curled half circle around the Weyrwoman. "The Weyrleader made is clear that my involvement wasn't needed. And if he wanted me to be up on current events, he wouldn't have set Jajen as my jailor."

Nyalle presses her lips together. "But it is needed. There are bad trades, people being taken advantage of, cotholds going hungry this winter." As for Jajen…he asked for it.

Ha'ze snorts, that stubborn set to his expression not bending. "That's none of the Weyr's business." Because that is what HE was told.

Nyalle nods. "I know. But it is now, the Hold and cotholds have asked for our help."

"I have nothing to offer. It's not like Kainaesyth has left this island for almost two turns now." Or whatever the time actually has been. Maybe it's just been over one. REGARDLESS. "My contacts are cold."

Nyalle is quiet for a moment, shifting her weight a bit. She is not good at this sort of thing, but she's trying to learn. "Aren't you skilled enough to make new contacts?" she tries.

Ha'ze brushes a hand through his hair. It's slightly long and greasy, the man having allowed himself to go more than a little to seed. It's not like he has many women to smooze up to here. "Only if I get the freedom to do so. I can't work inside of the Weyr's rules." Statement of fact. THEY DON'T WORK.

Nyalle purses her lips. She likes the rules. This isn't her place… Her long silence is telling, before she finally says, "We need results."

Now she is a true Fortian.

A tense silence as Ha'ze hears the words he didn't expect. Abruptly, "Tell Th'ero I'll talk then. But he has to know I can't and won't promise to stay in another prision." Even one as nice as Drake's Lake. "And I want to see my kids every once in a while." Because THAT Ha'ze misses.

Nyalle nods. "I will tell him," she promises, moving back towards Kayeth. "Thank you, Ha'ze."

Sad Kainaesyth. As the woman moves away she shares a soft breeze with Kayeth, full of wistfulness for home… and even more so for the chance to wander again. The stories here have grown very old. Can they come home soon? Please? "I don't make any promises. I'll just listen to him." Which, really, is the best that anyone could ask for after the last two meetings between weyrleader and the indepedent bronzerider.

Nyalle nods. "That's all I was looking for." This trip. All she wanted was for him to agree to talk. Kayeth reaches forward to try and gently nuzzle Kainaesyth, and with a sudden burst of shared thought, tries to catch him up on the goings-on at home. Here. Weave new stories from these images, from these half-stories. Did someone //really/ bring a dragon into the living caverns to eat cake? Maybe.


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