Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

After a trip over to Xanadu to visit So'l Abigail has returned to Fort and is making her way on into the Caverns. A slight yawn escapes her as she moves along, slowly unzipping her flight jacket as she goes and rubbing at her eyes a few moments as a result. She should have gotten more sleep between the sweeps, paper work, and visiting So'l. She pauses over near the table of food stuffs and looks about, picking up a few things that seems to be alright, with a cup of some rather weak klah she moves off to find a table.

Borodin… hasn't been to Xanadu. Which is why, instead of arriving from outside in the bowl, he does so from the depths of the tunnels. That's where his days keep him, where there's things to be brewed. Klah-brewing, though? Not his responsibility. So any weakness of the beverage isn't his fault. He'll discover it soon enough, for after Abigail has left the klahpot, he's the one who approaches it. The mug is poured, and then he turns to look over the caverns and… hey, he knows that back. Mostly by the hair over the flight jacket, but the general proportions? Also familiar. So he takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and pursues her. "Hey."

Abigail wanders onwards towards a seat and is pulling the chair out before catching the voice that calls out to her. There is a moment before she looks back curiously watching Borodin while she sits upon the chair. A soft smile is seen and she nods. "Hey Borodin." This said softly while she sets her plate down and lets her hand rest around her mug.

Borodin is inspected! His shoulders hunch in a little, and for a moment, he stands there, across the table. Being looked at. "Uhm. Hey." He already said that. What now? Good question. He thinks on it a moment, then sets his mug down. Thunk. Another moment. Maybe he's just going to abandon the mug? But no, he actually pulls the chair out and thunks himself down in it. There! He's here.

Abigail curiously watches Borodin, she then takes a sip from her mug while shifting to lean against the table a moment. "So… How have ye been?" She questions with a curious tone. Her pale gaze flicking around a moment before she looks back to her brother.

Borodin is definitely watched, but he does some watching back. Mostly in the checking that Abbey has all her parts attached where they should be and in working order. Because such things are important. His mug of klah exists. He doesn't take a sip. "Uhm." He shrugs. "I'm fine. Things are fine here."

Abigail is still all in working order, she has a dislocated shoulder and a broken arm from the whole avalanche deal, her arm is just well enough that she doesn't need it in a sling anymore. "I imange things are a bit stressful at times. With all the shortings of stuff, plus everyone coming in from the hold." There is a faint pause. "Mom and dad still here I take it?"

See, broken arms? Those are sort of the kind of thing that don't entirely qualify as working order. Maybe half-working? But… Borodin frowns, with a shrug of his shoulders for the shortages. "We deal." And that's all he has time to say, because then Abigail continues, and his look turns to a stare. "…what." He doesn't even manage to make it a question.

Abigail nods a touch while she glances down to what is on her plate and she picks at the bit of bread that is there. Her pale gaze flicks back to Borodin, watching him once more and her brow raises. "I thought ye know they was here?" She pauses before going on. "Dad was hurt during everything at the hold. Brought him to the healer hall and then he and mother was brought here once he was able to travel."

Borodin continues to stare. "…how… would I… know?" he asks. It sort of sounds like a question, this time, though it's still kind of fragmentary as concepts slot into place. At least there's some explanation coming. Still. "I'm not a healer. I don't get… reports." His fingers tighten around the handle of his mug. "So he's…" A pause, and the word he was going to say gets substituted by another one. "…here."

Abigail frowns while she hears this, her hand lifting to scratch at her neck a few moment. "I'm sorry Borodin… I thought ye had been told." A soft breath escaping her while she leans back upon her seat sightly. "Aye, he and mother is there." This said with a slight nod while she glances down at her mug, feeling a bit bad for not trying to fill her brother in on anything now.

Borodin's fingers clench around the mug, then loosen, letting go and going down under the table to his lap. "Well, I wasn't." He looks to Abigail, then back down to the table, eyeing his klah mug. Sure is a mug. "Are… is there anything else? That I should know? Because-" He cuts himself off, and continues staring at the table.

Abigail is quiet for a few moments at that, a frown seen once more. "I am sorry that this happened." She offers softly once more. There is a pause and she lifts brow. "Such as..?" This questioned curiously. "I was hurt somewhat but I'm fine. So'l is still at Xanadu, Breeana is doing well.. Mother wants to meet her finally."

Borodin frowns, and his shoulders hunch in. Such as? "How the shard should I know?" After that outburst, he sets his jaw and listens to her answer. "…I heard you were in the avalanche. But you were gone." Given the facts he has now… perhaps to the healer hall? But that was then, this is now, and things are only just coming together. So'l? Breeana? He… "Good." That's all he says about them.

Abigail ahs softly and nods a moment while her mind ponders a moment before she takes a sip from her mug. "I was at the Healer Hall for a few days as they wasn't sure if I broke my shoulder. When they let me go I came home, went back to work two days after that." She never was one that could get tied down for long after all. There is a slight pause while her gaze drifts back to him. "I'm alright, promise. Just sore now, though that could be from a manner of different things."

Borodin continues to listen. Also continues to look at the table. It's got woodgrain, it does. And there's a knot there. Also a gouge or three. So exciting. He doesn't look up to her, but he does nod. The manners of different things it might be? He… winces, because he's not sure he wants to think about that. "I-" He stops, takes a breath, and his eyes drag a little closer toward him. "I'm glad you're okay."

Abigail nods slightly and chews on her lip a moment before glancing to her hands, half picking at her nail a few times. "I am too. I wasn't sure there for a little bit." Getting caught under a mountain of snow isn't a good thing after all. She lets her gaze lift slightly, watching Borodin once more. "I was thinking about going fishing on my next restday… Ye interested in coming with me and Niumdreoth?"

It isn't, and under the table, Borodin's hands tense, visible only as a slight tightening of the muscles along his arms. Getting caught under that much snow is the sort of thing that leads to funeral announcements… but not this time. So… yay. Borodin nods to what Abigail says about the snow, then flicks his gaze up at her offer. "You, uhm, know I'm no good at the catching them part."

Abigail is rather happy that she doesn't have to go worry about such things as funeral announcements, perhaps next time. A soft chuckle is seen. "That's alright. Niumdreoth can fish for both of us, how's that?" She's missed her brother, they use to do everything together and this bit of time where they have grown apart has bothered her.

Usually the dead people don't have to worry about the funerals. It's… convenient? Or something. Next time? There's likely to be one, so long as Abigail continues to work search and rescue. Even if she doesn't, life isn't exactly safe. "Uhm," Borodin says, then nods. "…okay."