Fort Weyr - Lake Shore
This lake shares many features common to mountain lakes — a brilliant blue jewel nestled amongst the rocks. The waters are crystal clear, and the north shore slopes gently before abruptly falling away into the depths. This lake does have one significant differentiating feature, however. The south shore of the lake is a tumbled mass of rubble, rock and earth of an ancient rockslide smoothed only by the elements in the intervening years. This rubble, as well as the rather sheer east and west faces, makes for the north shore to be the only one easily accessible.

Spring's arrival is noted by the disappearing lake ice. As it melts it breaks up into smaller icy bergs. These bob randomly throughout the choppy waters, slowly disappearing as the temperatures rise. They also frequently provide sport and entertainment for the bathing dragons. The emerging shoreline is inviting, though the water remains chilly for their human counterparts. As spring draws nearer to summer, the waters begin to feel quite invigorating with Rukbat's growing shine.

It is early afternoon at Fort weyr, the sky above a brilliant blue as spring has just begun to take hold. That lake is still mostly frozen cracks can be seen apon its surface though revealing the starting of the melt. Along the beach a visiting rider can be seen standing next to his bronze and looking out across the lakes glittering frooze surface. "I am sure she will be about before to long Xtzaltuth." S'ic smiles up at the bronze, "you know I don't mind waiting up here. They didn't have anything for me at he hall after I droped that work off."

"She?" asks a voice from a bit far off; its owner is just close enough to overhear. While her excuse might be that she's pretty good at finding people and knows Fort better than the back of her hand, it's really just because Inri's incredibly nosy and has to ask. She's wearing one of those long knit sweater-dresses that dance about her ankles, over twill pants and unremarkable shoes, a fuzzy hat around her ears. Her dragon: if you look the right way, you can see her upon that pile of once-rockslide-rubble, now single large dragon perch. Kouzevelth is a presence, but not a particularly loud or verbal one. Just there. Impossible to miss only if you try to evade.

S'ic blinks and turns, apon spotting Inri and Kouzevelth he smiles brightly and says, "Monaco Bay Weyr's durties to Fort and her queens." he gives a little salute and smiles, his bronze for his part warbles a polite greeting to the gold before his rider continues, "I was waiting for a good friend of mine. One of the young ladies working with your littles, Zalaina."

Kouzevelth, pleased with the offering, provides the quietest of little bugles back. And that's that. She's not showy. But she is welcoming, mental rainforests' warm humidity and interesting insects always open for visits. Inri, on the other hand, just smiles. "And ours to Monaco's, of course. Your friend may yet be being tortured by my daughter, who is probably asking for her … tenth, or so, story." Her shoulders shrug up high to her ears, her expression one of 'oops! sorry there,' sorts of guilt. "Then again, one of the others may be just as responsible."

S'ic smiles and says, "I don't mind waiting at all. I might even be alittle early, I had to drop some stuff by harper hall, it didn't take nearly as long as expected." he smiles, "So I figured I would wait here by the lake.."

"Good place to wait." Inri is definitely in favor of the idea, at least. Apparently that's what she came to do … or her dragon was just curious about the foreign bronzerider. Or perhaps curious about the foreign bronze, what with a flight imminent. Not so imminent that Inri is really feeling the effects, but imminent enough. "Though it … sees better, more attractive days when it isn't about eighty-five per cent ice. I promise."

S'ic smiles and nods, 'I thought so, It is so pieceful here. I though about maybe taking a few days and working here if I can get the time." he smiles looking back out across the lake. Xtzaltuth seems very curious about the gold as well. and tilts his head to look over to her, not approaching, not wanting to be pushy at all.

There's nothing about Kouzevelth that pushes away, but also nothing that comes closer; she is inviting of just enough attention, not yearning for more. She mirrors the barely-younger bronze's headtilt, only in the other direction, and Inri has to shake her head a little to avoid getting dizzy or laughter. "You're welcome to the space so long as you put a word in with the Weyrleader or Weyrsecond; just because they like to know, not because anyone isn't permitted to camp in our lake space." Well. Just anyone isn't. There are some specific people who are not.

S'ic nods and smiles, "I will have to ask then. I am a harper specializing in physcal art. Painting mostly and this…" he motions out towards the lake and says, "This is perfect I think.." he rolls his eyes and looks up to his bronze, "What."

"Oh, maybe I'd buy it off you," Inri's being honest about that, at least. She finds herself a good, solid not-ice-covered rock and perches on it, allowing the green firelizard who'd been hiding in her hair come out as more of a shoulder ornament. "My weyr always appreciates, if not necessarily needs, new art." And Inri loves buying things, let's say. She, too, gives the dragon a curious look: "Yes, what?" is jovial.

S'ic smiles and sayas, "Then once I have a chance to speak to your weryleader or second I will have to get to work here." she shakes his head and the bronze warbles down at him and say, "Oh don't mind him, he is allways looking to make new friends, he thinks everyone should like everyone.."

"I don't mind. He's cute. I agree with him," says Inri who doesn't always like people but likes the idea of always liking people. She likes most people! Everyone is her friend until otherwise specified, as was said during her candidacy long ago. "Kouzevelth's not the friendliest, but she's not outright against communication, either. Just not very … conversational. I apologize if she seems rude. Th'ero isn't too hard to find, generally speaking, nor is Abigail. Or their dragons."

S'ic nods and says, "I will diffently look them up, I don't want to miss the young lady though so it will most likely have to be after." he smiles, "I have taken some sketches already though..'

"Ooh!" Inri leans closer, though not so close as to be improper. She's still on her rock, just showing her interest with that lean. "Would you show me, maybe? I can't draw to save my life or anyone else's, but I have a lot of, I mean, I love art. I drive Thys crazy all the time wanting to see her sketches. She appreciates it, I think, but …"

S'ic smiles and nods, 'Sure.' he moves to reach down into the pack he has near his feet and pulls out a large sketchbook and begins to leaf though pages trying to carefully get back to his most recent.

Inri is spying on S'ic who is drawing, early afternoon. Kouzevelth's hovering over the rockslide area; Xtaltuth is closer to the humans. The weyrwoman leans forward to look closer, squints, and makes a few excited 'pretty!' and 'hey!' sounds. She and her fuzzy hat are easily charmed. "Yep, you're talented enough. I'll definitely buy something. Paintings of our lake? The entire Weyr might like that."

S'ic smiles and says softly, "Thank you. This has been a passion of mine for years. I am always searching for lovely locals and people to paint so." he looks back to the lake and says, "This just caught me.

Some people believe in post-prandial constitutionals. Some people just take walks, either because they're irritated at someone (or something) or because they actually like walking. Zhirayr's usual all-black ensemble isn't marred with food stains, so that fails to provide much of a clue; he's also not actually scowling as he comes closer at a brisk clip. "Weyrwoman Inri," he greets, with a polite nod, and then a little eyebrow-squinch frown at S'ic. "And… I don't know that I know you?" Does he? Hm.

And people? Inri isn't actually vain enough to ask for drawings of herself, and there are lots of professional works of her dragon already, but … "How about dogs? Do you paint dogs? Pictures of them, I mean. Not the actual act of painting on a dog." Zhirayr's arrival gets a minorly wary look, but once she determines that he isn't scowling she can relax a little. The always-black man is efficient, but a little scary. And sometimes he yells at her for stores mistakes and makes her cry, to this day. "Steward," she says politely, "They're visiting from Monaco Bay, enjoying the sights."

S'ic blinks at the question and says, "Dogs?" he thinks for a moment and says, "I could probably paint them yes, the trick is getting them to sit still for any length of time…" he turns to the man in black and gives a nods, "Afternoon. I am Harper S'ic, Rider of bronze Xtzaltuth out of Manaco bay."

Zhirayr's mouth works for a moment, in a way that S'ic is no doubt familiar seeing — that brief pause as he mouths the dragon's name and attempts to twist his tongue around it. Don't ask him to spell it. "Good afternoon to you, then, Harper and Bronzerider S'ic — I am Steward Zhirayr," which, being pronounced somewhat like a French J, is probably also not that easy for people to spell right on the first try, "and I assume that Inri has already offered you Fort's duties. Welcome to our lake — may I see what you've drawn, as well?"

"They're very well trained dogs," Inri says proudly. For the most part, she trained her dogs all by herself! With considerable advice from a canine-breeding cousin, yes, but she did do it herself. "So, easy to get them to hold still if you hold a treat in the direction you want them to look. Especially if you don't need them to stay longer than fifteen or twenty minutes, and can then work from some kind of sketch." She's not going to stick her tongue out at Zhirayr and call him a nosy fuddy-duddy because they're in public.

S'ic smiles and says, "She absolutely did." he nods and says, "Of cource, as soon as the lady is done you are more then welcome to look at them. They are just innital drawning and some notes, I dropped most of my finished work off at the hall this afternoon.

Zhirayr nods, lacing his hands together at the small of his back, and is perfectly willing to wait — well, for a few minutes, anyway — and just look over the lake, the dragons, the view in general. It's a nice view. He doesn't usually bother looking at it. "Do you have any favorite subjects?" he asks, mostly out of politeness; on the other hand, well, if the guy's good enough, Mirinda did just get a promotion, she could get a portrait …

Mirinda wants a painting of Inri's dogs, of course! "Here, the paper's soft, too," says Inri as she hands Zhirayr the book she was cooing over. "And it really makes things I took for granted come out to see them drawn, you know?"

S'ic nosd to Zhirayr and says, "In general I perfer to do landscape scenes. Though for the right clients portriates can be nice as well. Depends on if the subject can be made to sit still." he smiles, "Also…when duty allows, I allways take sketches at hatchings. I think it is a wonderful present for weyrlings when the graduates you know.." he nods and says, "Yeah that sketchbook is pretty pricey but ."

"How could she possibly not want a painting of a dog?" Inri, mystified, because everyone should want a portrait of a dog, and she was pretty sure the Weyrhealer liked them. "Or, no, I mean, she has a runner she really loves, right? Her family are big into racers?" Never say this goldrider does not know a little bit about everyone, and you just wait, S'ic, spend enough time around Fort and she'll have a dossier on you too, "Could do a portrait of that, or some kind of racetrack landscape for a present."

S'ic smiles as the flip though the book, eventually finding a very life like portrait of one of there own residents, Zalaina. It is a candid drawing as if the subject did not even know she was being drawn but done with obvious extreme care and attention to detail. It seems the bronzer may be taken with somone around here. He blinks and looks to Inri he nods, "I aboslutely could paint runners, I have always loved them."

Zhirayr pounces on that. "And have you watched many races? Obviously they aren't holding still, but on the other hand, the actual shape of the runners doesn't change that much, and I'd imagine you could probably fill in the course after the racing was over …?" Or, in other words, he likes Inri's idea.

S'ic nods and says softly, "Before i joined the harpers I was a apprentice beast crafter specializing in runners so yeah, you could say I know them well." he smiles "One of the master harpers found me there sketching away and whisked me away to harper hall and the rest is history." he turns and says, "Absolutely, so long as your weyrleader approves of my stay that is."

"At least," Zhirayr blandly intones to Inri, "she doesn't want them glittered this time." Of course, now he's put the idea in her head again, right? And he doesn't even have kids. A polite half-bow in farewell, before he finds himself utterly caught up in the idea of a portrait of a runner race, maybe this-big-by-that-big, to hang in her office, and maybe while he's thinking about it he should make a note to himself to see if he can't get her a bigger office, just maybe…

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