Fort Weyr - Council Room
A large table, spacious enough to seat all of the Weyrleaders of Pern simultaneously, takes up the majority of the space in this room. Comfortable chairs are placed at regular intervals around the highly polished table, and writing materials have been laid out at each place in preparation for the next meeting. Along the walls are a series of sideboard tables, meant to hold food and drink for longer conference sessions.


The summer months are proving to be hot and dry this Turn, a stark contrast between the prolonged winter and heavier snows and a wet spring. Most are enjoying the sun but the weather isn't the only thing growing heated. Certain tempers have been simmering too over the last few sevendays and for once it's not entirely Th'ero. The Weyrleader looks reasonably calm from where he sits in his usual chair by the head of the long table. It's early morning, the usual hour that he, along with the Weyrwoman and her juniors and the Weyrsecond all get together for a usually routine meeting. One could say it's almost a dull necessity but what else keeps the Weyr running smoothly?

Th'ero isn't alone either. Seated in the farthest of the chairs where the goldriders usually sit (or she's purposely isolating herself), Jajen is slouched, looking rather sulky and broody — which really is no surprise. When isn't the youngest goldrider acting that way? These meetings often bore her and while she's learned long ago to keep her mouth shut about it, today she looks in a mood. So far though, she is behaving and the room remains (tensely) quiet while they wait on the others to arrive.

Nyalle is also here, quietly shuffling hides as she flips through them again. "Do you have that Harper report on the cothold dispute?" she asks quietly to Th'ero, briefly looking to Jajen and then back to her folders. Tea sits alongside her elbow and she sips from it from time to time.

Thys is in her seat as well, down at the end near Jajen. She's not looking at the younger woman, though, sitting facing up the table towards Th'ero and Nyalle. Out in front of her, beside her morning cup of klah, is a notepad that she's been scribbling in as she takes down little reminders… and maybe even doodling a little, if whoever's beside her chances to look. She looks up when Nyalle asks Th'ero her question, taps the end of her pencil against her page, then picks up her klah to sip.

Dtirae is here, and paying attention. While she doesn't always make comments, she is, at least, paying attention. While Jajen sits isolated, the woman pointedly does not pay her any mind. She lifts her own tea to her lips, tilting her gaze towards Nyalle and Th'ero when the Senior speaks.

Everyone knows that Inri hates tension, and so she tends to accidentally add to it whenever given the chance. Walking into a room where there's simmering temper and brooding? That's definitely the key for normally gregarious Inri to seem quiet and disconnected. It's a very bad coping mechanism, when her genial and peacekeeping nature would actually be useful, but so be it. Normally she's as early as possible despite her lack of morning-person tendencies, but since a few days after Kouzevelth's flight her lifemate has demanded extra morning attention and Inri's schedule hasn't quite adjusted yet. She's not late. She's just late for Inri standards. Everyone gets a small-but-friendly-and-not-interrupting smile as she moves to take a seat, even Jajen, but she doesn't speak up.

Meetings are a routine part of D'ani's existence here at Fort Weyr and thus he's not too alarmed when the summons comes. He's last to step into the council room and quietly slips into a chair, finding himself seated at the table between Dtirae and Inri. He nods a silent greeting to those nearby - Nyalle and Thys, then looks to Th'ero, also noting the sulking Jajen. When isn't Jajen brooding? So he simply accepts her state as normal for her and waits to see what's up.

"Cothold dispute? Which one?" Th'ero mutters under his breath to Nyalle and hopefully he's joking or they'll be here for awhile. Mercifully, he is (which is odd, when does he joke around?) but his shuffling through his papers seems prolonged. Too long to mean anything good will come of it. Somehow he keeps his expression impassive and unconcerned and certainly lacking in any judgement as he looks down the table to the others. If his gaze lingers a little long on Jajen? It's coincidence. "I don't have that report," he informs Nyalle, trying not to grimace. "And I don't recall seeing it recently on my desk. Maybe you have it?" Oh boy!

Jajen hardly stirs in her seat, save to glower at a few of the late arrivals and the lack of chiding they receive. So poor Inri and D'ani earn the brunt of her dark mood for now which remains nothing more then dark looks. Thys and Dtirae go unacknowledged and she pointedly doesn't look to the Weyrleaders. Instead, she picks up her writing tool and begins to idly (and annoyingly) tap it against the table's surface while the hunt for this record is underway. Tap. Tap. Taptap. Tap. Taptap … tap.

Nyalle frowns a little bit as she flips through her own hides. Then she looks up. "Jajen? Have you seen it?" she asks with an attempt at an encouraging smile. "Could you please stop tapping, too?" Her eyes scan the room, nodding when the others arrive. "We'll find it," she says with a smile, "and then we'll get started."

As the rest of the troops come in, Thys looks up and smiles at them, dipping her head as a good morning greeting. The tapping down the table draws her attention away from where she was looking down at her scribbled-on page, and she frowns down the table at Jajen. Out of habit she drums her fingers against the tabletop, then quickly flattens them, dropping her gaze to her notepad once more.

Dtirae smiles at Inri as she enters, nodding towards the other as she joins her. And then there's D'ani entering. She manages another smile before lifting her tea, and taking a sip. Jajen's tapping earns no outward response, in fact, she acts as if the younger goldrider isn't there at all. Such things usually drive the younger woman mad, but you cannot indulge a child who is throwing a tantrum.

"I might have a copy, if I ever had a copy — did anyone give me a copy?" Inri asks, glancing toward the Weyrwoman but then immediately looking down to her own portfolio of Things and rifling through it to see if the offending document turns up. And then, conclusively: "No. I remember what you're talking about, I think, but there wasn't a copy." Excellent start to the day: this document only had one copy and it's gone.

Th'ero hadn't really noticed Jajen's annoying tapping, too focused is he on the whereabouts of this document. Something is troubling him, evident in the way his frown deepens and his mouth settles into a grim line. "None of you have it?" he asks calmly, looking down the table to the goldriders and his Weyrsecond too. Surely someone has it? "There was no copy… Unless the Hall has one." Please let Harper Hall have one! Now they're really going to get it, aren't they? "It's probably been misplaced…" he can be heard muttering under his breath to Nyalle. So much for a routine meeting?

Jajen's tapping doesn't stop for Thys' frown and certainly not for Dtirae's choice to ignore it. The Weyrwoman's request does make her pause with the writing tool still poised for another downward flick as her eyes dart to Nyalle. "Why would I have it? It's not like I'm trusted with these things," she openly sneers and full of attitude and before she can even witness the effect of her behaviour, she'll face forwards again, looking in all essences completely bored and sullen. She resumes her tapping too, just for added effect and because she knows now that it's proving to be irritating. She does not touch a single finger to the papers beside her.

Nyalle sighs. "Jajen, I believe I gave you this hide with those other records to look over last night, so you would be prepared for this morning's meeting. Remember?" There's a pause. "Unless I gave it to you, Dtirae?" She's looking through her paperwork again. "No, Inri, I know I didn't give it to you…"

Thys remains looking down, dropping her pencil to curl both hands around her klah mug. It's drawn towards her, and she sneaks a peek up and along the table at the other goldriders when Jajen makes her retort, teeth pressed down hard into her lip as she winces. This is not going to be good, her expression reads, as she gently shakes her head and raises her mug to her lips to drink.

Dtirae takes a sip from her tea, settling the glass down and then looking through the papers she has, just to be safe. "I don't have it, Nyalle." She states after a moment before she is finally settling grey eyes on Jajen. "Jajenelja, there is a reason you're not trusted with these things. And, acting like a child does not help your case. If you want to be taken seriously, act like it. How many times have I told you this?" Surprisingly, she isn't yelling, but she certainly doesn't sound pleased.

Inri's face has become a thin straight line at this point, emotion all but abandoned to try to continue to grasp sanity, instead. That flatness is linked with her radiating as much as possible pure calm, because there is nothing else she can do. A quick glance to Thys, almost as if Inri feels the need to check on the juniorest-but-not-youngest of the group to make sure she's not drowning under the acerbic pressure in the air. "Evidently," she says very calmly, "it's possible you were trusted with it, Jajen, so if you don't mind at least looking." Maybe Nyalle should have said that, but it's the peacekeeper instinct coming out again.

"Not my problem," Jajen replies tartly, really pushing her luck with Nyalle and further straining the already tense atmosphere further. Could be she's feeding off of it too, hackles up now and feeling irrationally backed into a corner and ganged up on. "I never got the report. Go ahead and look for yourselves." she mutters, flicking a hand to the sheets she still refuses to touch. If it ever comes to pass that anyone checks, the report is not within there and has never crossed the gold rider's hands. Inri is shot a reproachful glare and a mocking snort. Trust? HA. "Why don't you ask miss goody-goody there?" Her head jerks to Thys, who so far has done nothing to earn Jajen's ire save for being quiet — or maybe that's why she's the target now. "Don't hear nothing from her!" And then Dtirae speaks up and earns a heated glare as she all but visibly bristles as she's reminded of her past screw ups under Dtirae's time as Weyrwoman. Wrong thing to say and lifting her chin, with the most deadpan look she can muster, she flatly strikes back. "You mean before you abandoned your Weyr?" It's harshly out of context but Jajen doesn't care. Part of her realizes she crossed the line by jabbing at Dtirae as she has but the most she expects is punishment like before. What's the worse they'll do? The silence that follows is thick and charged. Even Th'ero is at a loss of what to say, though one look at him and the scowl darkening his features says otherwise.

Nyalle openly gapes at Jajen. Her mouth drops open and then it closes with a sharp click of teeth. "Jajenelja," she says sharply. "Apologize."

When she's mentioned, Thys looks up, looking at the youngest goldrider with a shrug. She's not rising to the bait. "The report isn't with me," she replies simply, with a little shake of her head. And indeed, Thys is actually without any paperwork, save for her notepad… which she's drumming her fingers against right now. "A tell of her losing her patience, perhaps, though her expression remains relatively neutral - save for the emotion she's unable to keep from her eyes as she shakes her head even more at the insult to Dtirae. "That's uncalled for, Jajen."

"Don't take your anger out on Thys." Dtirae states, watching Jajen with a frown. At the attack on her, the woman rises slowly from her seat. "I may have left, but, I left for the Weyr. And even while I was away, I still did more for the Weyr than you." That mask, long since abandoned, now settles into place on Dtirae's face in complete neutrality, not a twinge of emotion. This look should be familiar to the other junior, the exact look that Dtirae had before she slapped the young woman. "Or, do I need to slap some sense into you. Again." It's not a question. It's a statement.

Inri isn't losing her temper. Inri isn't losing her temper. Inri isn't — does Inri even have a temper? She's definitely coming off as mildly irritated: "There's no law against stepping down if you feel overwhelmed by the job, and there's no shame in being overwhelmed and knowing your limits, getting that knot is by chance and it's not always the right time, shells," she mutters. It's undertoned but probably loud enough that everyone could hear her, which means that seconds later she is shooting Nyalle a guilty look. Sorry. Mouth went before brain. Not compounding further.

"I am not going to apologize!" Jajen snaps at Nyalle, not even aware of the tone she's taking with the Weyrwoman, of how deeper a hole she's digging and how much danger she's putting herself in. Vaguely she's aware that Iaverulth is upset, that Kayeth is too but rather than calm her, it only spurs her on. She's on her feet now, pointing first to Thys. "How do we know that? I don't see anyone asking her! Where's her reports?" Another glare for Thys' but before she can tear into the newest goldrider further, her anger is swinging back to Inri. "What's it matter if its law or not? She still did it and we shardin' just welcomed her back like she did nothing wrong! But I'm made to be reminded always of my mistakes?" Which to her seem trivial compared to that but Jajen is also blind, so stubbornly blind, that she is the root of all her problems. "I'll speak as I want too!" Jajen snaps at Dtirae, rounding on her again and lifting a hand to point an accusing finger to her. "Only because you COULD! I've never been given such privileges! You saw to it and you still gloat about it!" As for the threat of being slapped? Jajen just scoffs and tosses her head back. Bring it!

Th'ero is standing now too, his posture tense and his anger visible and obvious. "That's enough, Jajen!" He barks out in a commanding voice but is ignored by the goldrider and while the Weyrleader looks livid and readied to come around the table and do exactly as Dtirae had threatened to do, he stops. His head cants, eyes unfocused and when he does come back to his senses he's looking as angry as ever but also alarmed. "Iaverulth…" he mutters in the same breath that he swears out loud.

Nyalle pushes abruptly to her feet. "Dtirae," she says firmly, sharply. "Sit /down/. No one is hitting anyone. EVER." Her voice is sharp, steely, breathing coming quicker. She doesn't even look at Inri, her eyes darting back and forth between Jajen and Dtirae. Her hands grip the table firmly, especially as Kayeth's temper is sparked. Her eyes unfocus and then snap back, and she, tool, looks alarmed. "Jajen. Control your queen!"

Keeping quiet, though keenly attention, Thys looks from rider to rider around the table as they rise. She pushes her klah mug away from her when Dtirae stands, but when Jajen takes a dig at her again she turns to the younger rider, flicking her hand at her dismissively. What did she say? Thys doesn't even care. "She's not worth the energy it would take to do it, Dtirae." Then she adds, after a disdainful look to the youngest goldrider, "… I don't think it would likely help the situation, anyway. Knocking her out won't help at all."

Dtirae remains a mask of neutrality, straining only to keep her lifemate from going after Iaverulth. Lips press into a thin line, however, as Jajen speaks of her so called wrongdoings. There's a moment where she looks as if she will stride over to the other junior and slap her. But, she doesn't. Instead, she is slowly settling back down into her seat and nodding at Nyalle. It takes a moment and a breath, alongside Thys' words before grey eyes return to Jajen. "This is where you're wrong, Jajenlja. I have never done anything wrong. My stepping down may have been abrupt. But, that's how I got the knot. I stepped down for the sake of the Weyr, because I understood I couldn't handle the position. I still worked for the Weyr, however. The settlement thrives. So, what wrongs have I committed, really? When you almost cost the life of my lifemate and your own?" Oh yes, she is still angry about that. Who wouldn't be?

Inri remains seated, trying to play level-headed. She's really not at this point; she's annoyed enough that she's clenched one fist so tight she's cut her palm open, but no one else can tell that. Her focus is between Nyalle, Dtirae and briefly Thys, though she's remaining aware of the others. Every time her mouth opens to defend Dtirae, though, it settles shut again — she can defend herself, and piling on Jajen isn't going to make anything better, even if everyone may agree with what Dei's saying. Nyalle, she knows, is capable of handling this. As long as Iaverulth doesn't attack Kayeth, and maybe that's what's causing her to stab at her own palms — the concern of real danger from a teenage temper tantrum.

"Why?" Jajen laughs, high and gratingly when it dawns on her what Iaverulth has been driven to by her inability to control herself. She's looking at Nyalle now as though she's no longer a threat (which is the stupidest thing she could ever do). "Maybe…" She seems to hesitate and then take courage again, cheeks flushed and chin lifted as she brazenly challenges the Weyrwoman, all of the goldriders, really. "Maybe it's time for change!" What is she implying? Mutiny? Who does she think she is? Laris? Thys and Dtirae are ignored again, though the latter earns a dark glare for that reminder. No, she hasn't forgotten!

Th'ero will protest though and while he doesn't yell, his voice is hard and cold and does not leave any doubt to his fury. He's also not going to stand idly by and unless called back by Nyalle or the others, he's descending on Jajen. "Don't you dare!" Stupid girl! "Damn you, Jajen, stand down and Iaverulth too! NOW!" Too late?

Nyalle stares at Jajen in open shock. "A change? How dare you…" she splutters, her cheeks flushed with anger and a whole bunch of other emotions. "You will /never/ be Senior of Fort!" When Th'ero approaches Jajen Nyalle lifts a hand towards him, but if to stop him or to encourage him isn't known as a moment later her eyes are unfocusing and she's yelling, "KAYETH!"

Dtirae does not sit still, this time. While Zuvaleyuth is still, Dtirae cannot hold herself in place any longer. She could tolerate simple words, throwing accusations… But an actual attempt to usurp? "What would you do?" Dtirae hisses as she rises, the chair falling behind her as she strides towards the other junior. "Would you kill Nyalle, Jajen? Because, you cannot force a Senior to step down, regardless of what action your stupid mind thinks of. Even if your gold were able to manage to rally some support, they know their Senior." She is like a feline about to strike, her prey being Jajen. Grey eyes are cold, harsh. "Killing the Senior wouldn't gain you the knot, anyway, foolish girl. You'd be banished, either way."
Close to the limit of her own patience, Thys stands on her feet now too, shaking her head at the scene unravelling before her. "Jajen, stop being so ridiculous - just shut up, shut up now and stop making it worse!" Her hands remain tense by her sides, her expression drawn as she chews on her lip.

Inri's still not moving, because it is much easier for Inri to remain as still as possible and not completely lose it. "Apparently she would," she snaps, a response to Dtirae rather than anger directed at her. "She seems perfectly fine with the idea of killing Kayeth! Get a grip, Jajen, or you're going to get Iaverulth killed." That must get through to her. Shouldn't it? She can't possibly risk her own lifemate for attitude.

Jajen just shakes her head, looking almost as wild as her gold. Something's snapped somewhere in that girl's head, maybe the realization of what she's done and how far she's pushed is causing her to panic and rather than calm down she just forges blindly ahead. Why go back now and look the fool? She holds her ground, glaring and features twisted as she sneers at them all. "What's it matter now?" she fires back and her voice rises, echoing off the chamber walls. "You never wanted us here but who's to say we can't try to take our place? Too long I've sat around and too long have we gone underappreciated!" she raves, eyes wide and bright and maybe with just a hint of fear to them. To have Iaverulth killed? Something begins to sink in as she takes a half step backwards, darting a quick look towards the bowls.

It's the distraction Th'ero needs and Jajen can only utter a startled yelp when she's seized roughly by the shoulders with the Weyrleader now looming over her. At least he doesn't slap her too? He'd probably really hurt her if he did. He's not been reduced to shaking her either though he looks sorely tempted. As infuriated as he may be, even with his hands digging into her shoulders, Th'ero isn't aiming to hurt her. If she were a guy? Oh, you bet it'd be a brawl right now. "What have you done?" he says in a cold voice. No yelling from him either! "What have you done, Jajen! You'll be exiled for this! LISTEN to them!" He's not even going to bother asking for apologies. That's long since passed. He's just trying to keep an all out fight from breaking out… if it's not already underway.

Nyalle is breathing heavily now, and she takes a moment to close her eyes, tension singing through her posture even when the queen's land. She watches, her expression shuttered, eyes cloudy. And as Kayeth speaks in the bowl, so Nyalle speaks in the chambers, two halves of Senior acting as one. "You will go. You will leave this place. If you wish to rule, rule over the island in Drake's Lake. You are banished from Fort."

Th'ero's actions and Nyalle's words make Thys sink back, eyes wide, bottom lip crushed between her teeth. Banished. The word plays soundlessly on her lips as she looks to Inri and Dtirae, before running her fingers roughly through her short hair. She stays quiet, reaching out for the back of her chair to lean against it and simply watch things unfold and settle - for they have to be on their way there now, right?

Dtirae does not back down as Th'ero sweeps in and grabs hold of Jajen, still looking as if she will strike, still. But, when Nyalle begins to speak, and banishes the other junior, Dtirae begins to back down. There is still rage in those grey eyes, burning brightly as she takes a step back but remains still close. She can strike, if she lunges. Which she is not against.

Banished. Nyalle's decree and one echoed by Kayeth finally hits Jajen and all the fight goes out of her in an instant. Too late does she realize now what her foolishness has done. What did she expect? That they'd all calm her down and pat her back and give her another demotion to weyrling again. "No!" she screeches in protest and echoing one of the cries from Iaverulth out in the bowl. Her eyes turn to each junior with Thys and Inri first, the likely few who may be able to help her. Too bad she tore into them both earlier! She doesn't dare look to Dtirae or Nyalle. "You can't do this!" she hisses in a choked sob. "Drake's Lake is no place for us!"

When it's obvious Jajen won't do anything further, Th'ero lets her go but roughly and enough to send Jajen staggering back a few steps. No one will dare say the Weyrleader shoved her, right? Okay. "She can and she did, Jajen and it's best you go. Get out. Now! Get to your ledge, grab only what you need and don't dawdle or argue!" he growls at her, turning to glance to the others. Do they wish to argue this or protest the decision?

Nyalle swallows thickly, blinking a few times as Jajen protests this decision. And yet…what can she do? Go back on it? No. "Go pack, Jajen," she says quietly as she sinks back into her chair. "Drake's Lake is still Fort." It's a quiet warning. An offering. She's /still/ of Fort. If she pushes…it might be a true banishment.

"It's still Fort," Thys echoes Nyalle quietly, looking up at Jajen. She sighs heavily, then sinks down into her chair with her hands in her lap; they don't stay there long, though, as one is soon enough drumming fingers against her thigh. Although she may have settled, she's no less alert and remains watching the Weyrleaders and the exile.

With everyone else sitting, so eventually does Inri with a long sigh punctuated by a cup of tea. "It's not," she clarifies, "really an exile, and you'll get used to it." Maybe someday Jajen will be gifted with a friendlier visit from Inri, to genuinely see how she's settling in. If she doesn't screw this part up. There is no offering of 'and maybe you can come back,' because that is both really not her call and — seems like a bad idea, with the tension from too many golds having been keeping the air thick since Zuvaleyuth's return.

Dtirae relents, finally, drawing away from the exile with a frown of disapproval. She retreats to her chair, and downs the rest of her tea. Her expression settles back into neutrality at the now lukewarm drink. Her hand, however, is pale from the tension of the grip on her mug.

Drake's Lake is Fort's but the Weyr has really been 'home' to Jajen. She's retreated further to the entrance, her eyes wide and bright now with tears though to her credit she doesn't start crying. Close and she has to grit her teeth, but she doesn't cry. "Exile is exile," she says in a wavering voice to Inri and seeing now that all are in support of Nyalle's decision, the former-junior turns on her heel and flees out of the council rooms.
Th'ero makes to follow her but stops, swearing low under his breath. No, he figures she'll behave and he's had enough of her. The Weyrleader shows no sympathy for Jajen's fate and he settles heavily back in his chair. It's his turn to look brooding and ill tempered. Does he even think for a moment their meeting will continue? "We should go and settle the Weyr. They'll want to know what's happened." he mutters darkly as he rubs at his brow. Headache coming on? Or is he still struggling with the desire to flip a table and throw things? Probably both.

Nyalle sighs softly, briefly covering her face with her hands. Gathering herself, she finally looks up and pushes to her feet. "We should be out there," she says, nodding in agreement with Th'ero. "Keep everyone calm. I'll request some extra food be laid out for lunch." There's a pause. "You're all dismissed. Dtirae? Will you stay back for a moment?"

"I'll go — start explaining things as simply as possible," Inri volunteers, willing to be the one who faces the confused mob outside. "If you'd like." Since really, Nyalle can make an announcement, or Th'ero, but Inri is willing to take on the barrage of questions that will come as soon as she steps out the door. "Be sure to check our office for that stupid report, later, too," she tacks on more quietly, still not entirely convinced Jajen didn't drop it behind her desk.

Dtirae places down the mug in her hands as Nyalle asks her to stay back. "Of course." She offers softly, not rising from her seat. There is a glance towards Inri, who offers to handle it and then a look to Thys and finally, Th'ero. Grey eyes then return to the Senior, remaining in silence.

That lost report is going to be one that falls into oblivion for awhile until the dust settles. Th'ero has long since forgotten about it, chewing and mulling over the fact that one of the Weyr's goldriders was just exiled (kind of). What will that do for the morale of the Weyr? He's almost dreading having to answer to those waiting for them outside, a mob of anxious and worried questions and yet… are they really going to be surprised? This was Jajen! Maybe some are already muttering that it's about TIME someone did something about her or are actually laughing over her stupidity now that the fear and tension has lessened. "We'll worry about the report later," Th'ero mutters low to Inri, still rubbing at his brow and looking as though he's swallowed something very unpleasant.

Nyalle nods her thanks to Dtirae, and looks up to the others. She'll wait for them to leave before she speaks to the former Senior, in private.

It's hard for Inri to let go of niggling details, but in the next twenty minutes of barrage of questions, it's likely to slip her mind too. Maybe it'll just turn up on its own. "It'll be all right," she offers gently, to the air in general. "Everyone will be glad that there's no weyrwoman here that unstable." Obviously, Jajen wasn't safe, and the fact that Nyalle handled it with the strength of the rest of the Weyr's leaders all behind her, no internal dissent? Inri hopes that's enough to improve morale. "Head up high," she says more quietly, to herself, and does exactly that — and steps out into the fray. With her tea.

Dtirae nods, once again, and then watches the departing with a quiet gaze. A slow breath is drawn, and then released just as slowly in attempt to bring the fire of her anger into a simmer, and then into nothing.

Th'ero pushes back to his feet and gives a fleeting look to Inri which could be considered one of thanks for her encouragement. Maybe he takes comfort in knowing she's capable of handling the aftermath of this mess and he won't be facing it alone. Gesturing to D'ani, he will have a few quiet words with the Weyrsecond before they part ways and the Weyrleader can be seen stalking out of the council rooms and facing whatever awaits them outside. Time to clean up and calm the Weyr down and try to salvage the day.