Fort Weyr - Kitchen

After rising up an imposing flight of steps you enter an elaborate vaulted ceiling. The delicious smells that gently infuse the air drift out from this portion of the cavern. The head cook, Rickard, bustles about creating the masterpiece dishes that the weyr as a whole consumes. His extensive collection of prized copper cookware hangs upon their custom-made racks, reflecting soft light back out into the cavern proper. A handful of sub-cooks and helpers are engaged in an variety of food preparations, moving briskly but efficiently about their work. A pair of spit canines trot in their wicker wheels, continuously turning the spits with their slowly roasting joints that hiss and crackle over the fires.

Ah, yes. The larders are full — at least, as full as they can be, given givens — and the cooks are in better moods than they've been in for some time now. It's later in the evening, after the evening meal has been served and during the usual prep period for the next day; thus, the cooks are plenty occupied with other tasks and don't seem to mind when one candidate takes up residence at her usual section of countertop and starts to prepare to bake. Galina has a fair amount of her own ingredients to cook with, but a few of the Weyr's own are needed for this evening's experiments. She's only just started, with a mixture of sweetener-crusted bubbly pies and more familiar thumbprint cookies at work, but it seems she's intent on making far more than she could possibly stomach on her own. Bowls of this and that are scattered about with precision as she works on this project or that with brisk efficiency.

Pralius is here for a snack. It's been so long since the Weyr was brimming with fresh goods that Pralius is just jonesing for a fresh bubbly. He managed to snag one before retreating from the cooks and back towards where Galina is hiding with her cooking implements. Smirking, he nods, "Whatcha cooking this time, Galina?"

There's a figure clad entirely in dark greys, snug tunic and pants, with a Roc badge and wingleader's knot on his shoulder. Not even a spot of brightness color's B'ky's clothing today, his boots as drab as the rest of him, the man in plain garments instead of leathers. Even his hair, tied back in a runnertail, is lacking in vibrancy, that thin braid at his temple a dark midnight hue, though it's beginning to fade somewhat. B'ky is.. sneaking. In the kitchen pantry. He semi-stealthily moves between shelves, either having gone unnoticed by the cooks or (more likely) having been ignored, his usual cookie-snatching antics generally given an amused look or a half-hearted spatula-wave. The man is unsmiling as he acquires a paper bag and fills it with..something. Slipping out of the pantry, he spots the healers over there, pausing a moment to raise a brow at Galina's work. Wandering over, there's a mildly curious glance at all the ingredients, the man offering her and Pral a polite, "Hello," as he approaches.

Galina is in the midst of shuttling a few pans into the still warm ovens when Pralius approaches, while two different kinds of dough are just waiting to be turned into something more delicious than they are on their own. She doesn't waver in her task, though she does offer, "A variety of things," oh-so-helpfully for Pralius' sake. It's only when she returns to her chosen cooking station that she answers a bit more fully with, "Raspberry thumbprints, mixed berry jam bubblies, oatmeal cookies," that being one of the bowls of dough, "and the basis for what will be cinnamon and nut rolls." It's not a /lot/ of each — certainly not enough to strain the newly refilled stocks — but there's definitely more than enough for one person at work here. B'ky's approach is noted, his greeting echoed with a "Hello," of her own, and a slow, slow blink is given.

Pralius goes suddenly stiff as B'ky approaches, saluting smartly alongside a murmured, "Wingleader." After a moment he realizes he's still clutching his pilfered bubbly and tucks it back behind him as if it wasn't plainly obvious. "Umm." He coughs nervously with B'ky standing right there, then nods, "That sounds good. Are you going to bring some back to the barracks later?"

Marika sneaks in, accompanied by a fellow guard. "Oh, come on, you heard the talk as well as I did." she's saying, as she enters. "I just want to see if Rakai is on duty today, that's all." she adds, practically dragging the reluctant man along. Still, he seems perfectly willing to humour her whim, perhaps used to such things. They are quite familiar with one another, like old friends. Marika stops, and sniffs the air, eyes widening. "Oh! Hemi! Pies!" she says, dropping all sneakery pretense and eagerly moving nearer to the appealing scents.

"That's rather a lot," B'ky comments quietly to Galina, giving her baking a more curious look. He offers Pralius a nod for the salute, brow lifting at the pilfered bubbly, though the man only idly sets his own bag of.. mystery items on the counter aside him, leaning against the edge slightly. Doot dee doo.. that's not the smell of freshly-baked snickerdoodles. Really. Cough. Those white knots on the shoulders have B'ky tilting his head toward the healers, "Hm, the both of you were searched?" although it's Galina that receives a vaguely.. dubious look. He's distracted, though, at the sound of a familiar voice, inclining his head briefly to the guardswoman.

"That was part of my intention," she responds to her fellow candidate, while she digs in with a pair of spoons to start turning that oatmeal dough into oatmeal dollops on the cookie sheet. Galina doesn't seem nearly as affected by B'ky's presence as Pralius does, but she has the slight excuse of being in the midst of doing something. "This was primarily to experiment with a few recipes I discovered in the records. However, I intended to divide the results — part of it is to go to the barracks, the rest is to go to the infirmary." Marika's approach is peripherally observed, a thing to be tracked for now while her gaze shifts to B'ky. His dubiousness is met with an unreadable look that cracks a little as the corners of her mouth contort downward. "Yes. On the day of the clutching." Pause. "Maglinoth did the deed." Neutral. That's how she sounds, at any rate.

Pralius nods, pausing a moment to stuff the bubbly in his mouth. There, no more evidence. He swallows it down too quickly, coughing to re-clear his windpipe, then wheezes, "Yeah. Mags got me last time we went gathering in the south. Same time that Irelanth chose Joan." He smirks slightly, "It seems Mags has a weakness for healers." His head comes up as Marika enters, then he grins, "Good to see you again." His eyes dart back towards Galina's work, "She's baking…. I'm the cheering section."

Hemi follows Marika, frowning slightly. But Marika seems oblivious, following her own nose. "Mmm, do you know how /long/ it's been since I had a good pie?" Not nearly as long as she's making it sound though, surely. The Weyr can't have been /that/ short on pie ingredients. The young guard woman tilt her head at B'ky, possibly remembering how they met. "Ah, sir. Cookies?" she asks, tilting her head at the bag. Though how she smelt them with all the other wonderful scents to smell is a mystery. There's a brief tip of the head to Pralius, but Marika's eyes are locked on to the pies. "Er. May I have one, m— Galina?" She was about to say ma'am again, wasn't she? The candidate knot stopped her, at least, though technically Galina /is/ still a journeyman, and outranks her.

B'ky leans a bit to watch what Galina is doing. "Oh?" there's immediate interest for her mention of discovering the recipes in the records. "In the ancient library?" he asks, slight smile there, "I'd been hoping to see a few more recipes.. hopefully you'll share these with the cooks? Ah, provided they turn out well. I imagine it can be somewhat hit or miss sometimes.. given the ingredients." There's a musing tone, although when Galina mentions which dragon searched her, B'ky settles back against the counter with a thoughtful, "Hm." Pralius receives a raised brow and a quiet, "Are you alright?" for the coughing, though B'ky has to chuckle softly, "It seems she does. Avideth.. tends to search mostly girls, for come reason," his thin brows drawing together in a vaguely puzzled frown, for a moment. It's true though - of all the people the blue has searched, a grand total of /one/ has been male. Marika's question earns some awkward throat clearing, though the wingleader only answers with a half-smiled, "Ah.. yes. I've.. someone I need to speak with. And I imagine these might help," wish a faint nod to the paper bag.

Pralius coughs once more and nods, his eyes watering slight, "I'm fine… I'll just…" he points off in the general direction of a sink, "Water…" And he wanders that way.

The irony is not lost on Galina. The one knot she'd rather not have is the one that'll ensure she's addressed with her name. It's enough to pull one corner of her mouth into an oh-so-wry — but apparent — half smile that's gone a bit sour at the edges. As she finishes up filling first one tray, then a second, with dough balls, she ventures over to check on the items still in the oven. The items that are still cooling on the racks are given a glance, a glance that extends to Marika a moment later with, "Yes." Pause. "Give them a few more minutes to cool." Pale eyes drift to Pralius, with her head tilting slightly to a side. Birdlike. "Perhaps. I can only hope that is her actual motivation." And if there's more to be said, she's not the one to say it — either that, or his departure means she'd just be talking to air; instead, B'ky is answered with, "Yes. Some of the recipes call for things like honey, which I would like to research to determine if there is an approximate equivalent. It is for something called-" her brows knit "-bak-la-va." Carefully pronounced, that. "The oatmeal cookies and the cinnamon rolls are two others; I have intentions of creating the banana bread when we have a proper supply of bananas." There's a shallow nod and an added, "If they turn out sufficiently well, the recipes will be distributed."

Marika ahhs at B'ky's confirmation, nodding slowly. "Well, sir, I imagine they might." Although she has no idea who B'ky plans to speak to, or what about, nor does she seem inclined to ask. But honestly, what /isn't/ helped by baked goods? Pralius' reaction to the hot pie seems to make Marika hesitate, and when Galina suggests she gives the pies a few minutes to cool, the young guard nods. "Yes, yes of course." There's a pause then, and a frown. "Uh… have you met Hemi?" the question is posed to all, really, and it brings the other guard forward a couple of steps, though he doesn't seem very talkative.

B'ky gives Pralius a mildly concerned look as the healer heads for some water, though a brief glance at Galina seems to assure him nobody's in dire need of aide. The bluerider hmms quietly, "Ah, honey?" head tilting to the side, evidently curious, and then blinking at the odd.. pastry(?) name there, "That.. sounds rather.. interesting. Is it..some sort of cake?" He nods about the rolls and cookies, murmuring an idle, "I'd certainly like to try one, if you've extra at some point.." and then chuckling softly, "I'd offer to bring back bananas from Southern Boll, as I've a cargo run there tomorrow.. unfortunately, they tend to, ah, taste rather odd after going between." He does smile, though, at the news the recipes will be distributed, likely already plotting more pastry pilfering. Ahem. Marika, too, receives a slight smile, "Mm, hopefully," though he pauses to turn to Galina, "Ah.. those cookies you made.. with the jam? The ones you left for me in the infirmary…I don't suppose you've the time to make a few? I would…be willing to offer marks for them, if need be." The bluerider rubs the back of his neck, though he is then glancing at Hemi, giving the man a polite nod, "Ah, I haven't. Well met, Hemi. I'm B'ky, Avideth's."

"If not," Galina begins in reply to Marika, "then this would suffice as meeting him." It's all about technicalities and semantics, see. The remainder of the oatmeal dough is doled out onto a third sheet, though it's only enough to fill a quarter of the way. That done, the cinnamon roll dough is considered, but left alone for the time being. Instead: "It appears to be a layered pastry of some sort. The dough involved appears to be difficult to make, but also seems to be significantly different than that used in some layered pastries I have eaten at Ogren." Her brow knits. "Nuts, honey, cinnamon, butter, and that dough." Sounds simple, no? Except for the lack of honey. "There should be enough extra on all counts, if you would like some." As for the bananas, she just nods, once, with understanding. "It can wait," she determines. Ah, but then the last bit comes and she glances from B'ky to the ovens with, "I have a few batches baking now. You are welcome to them, as always."

Marika grimaces suddenly, and glances down. "Uh… okay." She frowns, a little, and shakes her head. "…anyway. Yes. Hemi, B'ky. Galina, Hemi." she introduces, and her fellow guard gives a brief nod. "Yes, Hemi's the name. Guard." he says, shooting Marika a brief look, before falling silent again. /Such/ the conversationalist. Marika shakes her head, and then frowns again. "Er. You wouldn't happen to have prepared anything a little more savoury, would you?" she asks, carefully unbuttoning the top button of her jacket to reveal a very small blue firelizard, can't be more than a day or so old. "…for him." she clarifies. "I definitely want a pie." Mmm, piiie.

B'ky ahs, nodding somewhat at the description of that layered pastry, "It does seem simple enough. Perhaps speak to the harpers? I imagine they might have some suggestions for where to research the missing ingredient." There's a warmer smile for Galina, the wingleader chuckling a soft, "Mm, I certainly would," about trying some, and then offering a quietly grateful, "I appreciate it, thankyou," glancing at the ovens where the batches are baking. He certainly seems in no hurry to leave, moving to find a stool to settle on. "A pleasure to meet you," he offers the other guard - Hemi - a slight smile, and then tilting his head at the sight of that little firelizard there. "It seems those creatures are everywhere lately," commented with a little bit of amusement, "How old is he?"

Galina just nods, once, to Hemi for his introduction … but with Marika doing the dirty work, she doesn't seem inclined to say much at all on the topic. Instead, she grabs the hot pads and ventures over to the ovens to poke her head in and check on the contents …. only to deem them 'ready for removal'. Thumbprints are exchanged for oatmeal cookies and, somewhere in the process, the former healer intones, "The pies should be sufficiently cool now." The exposure of the youngling firelizard prompts a slight shake of her head. "No. However, I believe there are some leftover meatrolls in the cold storage." Pause. "Or I can send Cyanosis to retrieve one." It's left for her to decide, while she goes about the motions of preparing for the last grand baking feat on the docket for the evening: making cinnamon rolls. "I will do that on a rest day," she decides with a nod of acknowledgement and appreciation for B'ky. Back to work in relative silence for her, though; she's listening, but don't mind her while she works.

Marika glances down at the little firelizard, frowning slightly. "Ah, he's… he hatched just the other day, sir. I was running laps of the bowl." Likely as punishment for something or other. Ahem. "…veered off to the lake just for a /brief/ rest, and… there he was." A little more complicated than that, surely. What did she feed him? How long was she 'veered off' at the lake? Hemi frowns a little, apparently the other guard does not approve, but Marika pretends not to notice. "Ooh, the pies. I…" The blue lets out a curious cry, and Marika frowns. "I'll just… pop to the cold storage first… may I?" she asks, perfectly willing to do the legwork herself. She fed the thing in the first place, after all.

Those cookies that are removed from the oven receive a quietly thoughtful look from B'ky, though the man appears patient enough for the moment, an arm leaning lightly on the countertop. He gives Galina a slight nod, watching the healer work while he waits, though Marika mentioning laps of the bowl has the wingleader's brows rising. "Guard training must be fairly rigorous.. I recall, A'tien had the weyrlings doing something similar a few turns ago. Ah," he might note Hemi's frown there, although the bluerider only comments, "I imagine the cooks certainly wouldn't mind you finding something for the firelizard."

"What did you name him?" Seems to be the only question Galya has for Marika about the blueling, though she does grant permission — if it can be called that — for the guard to go with a singular nod of her head. While the thumbprints cool, she rolls out the dough for the rolls and smears it liberally with a cinnamon-and-nut-based paste. "In a few minutes, they should be edible; a few more and they will be transportable without difficulty." That for B'ky, of course. But, between her curiosity for the firelizard's name and the task at hand, she seems content to lapse into longer and longer bouts of silence.

Marika grimaces slightly, and nods. "Er. Yes. Rigorous." she agrees, though she seems a little shifty-eyed about that. Definitely punishment. Hemi just frowns more, adding, "And /important/. Something that requires focus." Not naming any procrastinating or slacking-off names. Ahem. Marika grimaces, and takes Galina's approval swiftly, sneaking off to get food. Hemi rolls his eyes. "She named it Lister." he answers the question, with a snort. "Because it's as listless as…" Marika comes back then, and Hemi abruptly cuts off, looking sheepish, actually. Luckily Marika doesn't seem to notice, busying herself with crumbling up a meatroll and feeding the firelizard.

"Ah, how many may I have?" B'ky asks, of the cooling cookies, with an uncertain glance at Galina, the man smiling slightly and adding a soft, "I.. don't want to take too many." Although he does appear slightly sheepish, nudging the paper bag and then glancing around the kitchen with a faintly guilty eyedart. Those cooks aren't waving spatulas yet, so the man relaxes. A tad. There's a thoughtful look toward Hemi, the wingleader agreeing quietly, "It is extremely important work the guards do. I recall a few turns ago, when there was a need for greater security," likely meaning the renegade incidents, with Tarish and that lot, "I know the people of Fort are grateful for the current security.. after all that has happened." His voice grows a little solemn at the end there, and there might be a touch of sadness, though he tilts his head, attention returning to the firelizard, faint chuckle for Hemi's comment on its name. Although he does not make any comments of his own, simply glancing at the guardswoman when she returns.

"I see." Galina proceeds to roll up the, er, roll … log-thing. The ends are lopped off and flattened, then a length of twine is set to work to cut the log into discs of approximately the same size. These aren't destined for the cookie sheets, nope; round-style cake pans are put to work, with the discs arranged snugly within them. Some of the buttery-sugary-cinnamony-nutty paste remains and this is offered out generally with, "Try a little, if you would like. Otherwise, it will just be spread on the rolls." For B'ky's question, he's met with a blank look at first. One slow blink and some lingering silence later, she rolls a narrow shoulder. "Take what you will, wingleader." Ah, there. Titles. Blame the knot. "I can always make more." It's sound logic and, indeed, the only logic she seems concerned with for now. "If you would prefer, I can select them for you."

Marika answers Galina belatedly once the firelizard seems sated, not aware that Hemi already had. "His name is Lister. I… is it hard to train them? To.. deliver messages and things?" she asks of the candidate then, though she glances at Hemi and frowns, perhaps reconsidering whether or not she has /use/ for a messenger firelizard, given Hemi's reaction. Who else would she need to send messages to? Hemi, meanwhile, nods at B'ky. "Yes, sir. That was not long before we signed up as trainees, sir." And quite possibly /Hemi's/ reason for joining at least, if Marika seems fairly oblivious. Guard business before her time is apparently none of her business. Pies, however… Firelizard fed and dozing, Marika does step forward at last, picking up a pie and nibbling on the edge.

B'ky idly watches Galina's rolling of the rolls and the creation of the little discs, head tilting curiously, "Hm..why the string instead of a knife?" Not that the bluerider is at all wise in the ways of the kitchen, the man giving the rest of the cooking items a fairly blank look. He shakes his head a little at the offer of trying the cinnamony paste stuff, with a quiet, "Ah.. no, but thankyou." He nods to Galina, seeming content to let her select - they're her cookies after all - and turns to regard the guards a moment. Hemi is given a quietly approving smile, the man nodding once again. His gaze, however, soon follows Marika to the pies. Hrm.

Galina claims a perch on a nearby stool while she waits — the oatmeal cookies have a little while yet to go, though the smell of them is slowly filling the little nook of the kitchen rather nicely. Marika's question is answered with a mild, "It depends upon personality as much as upon how willing you are to enforce the training. It may help to find something that will motivate him, as well." Pause. "They can be taught to retrieve things or to scout for you, in addition to message delivery." Maybe she caught onto Marika's look to Hemi? Maybe. B'ky's question is answered initially with an eloquent shrug. "It does not flatten the dough as much as a knife would, or so I have been told." She isn't entirely sure herself, then; that's just what she's seen, perhaps? But with that done and his reluctance to pick some cookies, she goes to quickly wash and dry her hands before simply plucking several of the cookies straight off the sheet to set aside in a pile. They're cool enough to be handled like that, at least.

Marika nibbles some more on the pie, pulling it away from her mouth after a moment, and grinning. "Good filling. Mmm. Haven't had a good pie in a while." She does seem to have a bit of a sweet tooth there, perhaps it's just as well that she's been running laps. "Ah, sir, you have to try one of these!" she says, noticing B'ky's gaze, perhaps. Her enthusiasm for the pie is put on hold though, as Galina answers her question. "Ah. I see. He doesn't do much more than eat and sleep at the moment. Er, how soon should I start to try training him? I… I would prefer him to be useful, if possible." Though, honestly, this blue has a personality even less ambitious than his owner's. "Scouting seems handy." she adds, glancing to Hemi. The man does at least nod, though he still eyes the firelizard with a frown.

"I imagine food might be a fairly good motivation," B'ky suggests, on the subject of firelizard training, "Although.. I've none of my own, I've seen a few trained that way." He ahs at Galina's answer to cutting the dough with string, "It certainly is a rather unique method," and then smiling with a, "Thankyou," for the cookies as the healer sets them in a pile. He adds these to his little paper bag, folding the top over. "what kind of filling is it," B'ky turns back to Marike and those pies, chuckling softly and standing to wander over to the pastry, "I'll try a small slice.." And he acquires a little slice and a plate, moving to find a fork before returning to his seat.

For herself, Galina retrieves a thumbprint cookie and just settles back in her chair to nibble on it with half-lidded eyes. It's a moment that doesn't last terribly long; she glances at Marika for her question, her mouth pulled slightly to one side. "A month, perhaps. Start with simple commands and pair them with a mental command." Pause. "I have a book on the topic, if that would help. Or I can attempt to demonstrate with my youngest one." That's offered readily enough, though the healer's soon on her feet again to check on the status of the cookies. More baked good swapping ensues. "Mixed berry," is offered of the pie and bubbly filling. "Raspberry for the thumbprints," as always.

Marika bobs her head a bit. "I see. Yes. I can see why food might work." she says, glancing down at the tiny firelizard. "I, ah… I hope this one doesn't grow up to give me any trouble. I… don't intend to feed another." But she doesn't sound so sure of that. She might well feed another, eventually, if this one proved difficult to train. She grimaces just slightly at the mention of a book, but nods. "I, ah. Yes. Yes, a book would be useful. Er.. how many do you have?" she asks, then. Hemi, meanwhile, steps forward and sneaks a pie, expression curious, thoughtful even. He's not much of a sweet connoisseur, but he has to see what Marika finds so good. He takes a bite, and huhs. "Where'd you learn to cook?" he asks of Galina, curious now. He may not be /nearly/ as enthusiastic as Marika, but still. The man eyes B'ky's growing selection of baked goods for a long moment though, rather long enough to be obvious.

"How many firelizards do you have?" B'ky tilts his head at Galina. He regards the girl a few seconds, thoughtful almost, watching the swapping and then taking a forkful of the pie. "Hm, I've always rather like the ones with berries," the man comments, smiling slightly, and looking in a significantly better mood than he had in the lounge. Yay, no stabbity ensues this time, although the for is used to poke at bits of crust, the man nibbling on the pastry slowly. "If it does, there should be numerous weyrfolk to offer help in training it," B'ky comments to Marika, "Or someone with a dragon to help discipline the creature if the need arises." B'ky, after all, is not terribly fond of the creatures when they're badly trained. He merely returns Hemi's look with a faintly raised brow, utterly innocent wingleader here! Ahem. There's going to be one very lucky person receiving those, however.. as B'ky is totally not eating any of the cookies himself.

Bad question. Galina quirks a brow at Marika and answers her question about books with another, "In general? Or purely in the realm of firelizard training?" Back to cookie-nibbling for her, though she slants a look to the guards while they eat as well. That look fixes a bit more firmly on Hemi for his query, though the young woman is silent for a moment or two before answering, "Ogren Hold. Agnessa taught me most of it; the rest, I learned through reading and experimentation." Clearly not the thumbprints, though; those seem imbued with all kinds of good memories, from the way she's taking her time with the one. B'ky's inquiry is answered some time later, her nose wrinkling slightly. "Four. I imagine that if Redwort had his way, I would have many more for him to claim dominion over." There's a slight nod as he voices his pastry preference, but then she drops into silence to finish her cookie off.

Marika nods slowly at B'ky. "A dragonrider, sir? Such as yourself?" She hasn't really made very many rider friends, B'ky is the rider she seems to run into the most. Twice in one day, even. What are the odds? "Dragons would really put a firelizard into line? Huh." she says, apparently surprised. It would seem like, well, perhaps beneath dragons, but she's not going to refuse any assistance, ever. Marika frowns a little, and looks sheepish. "Er, uh. I meant how many firelizards." she says, though she really wasn't clear at all in asking. At least B'ky asked, so there's her answer. "…four? Wow. Do… do they get easier to look after? This one sleeps all the time, I have to carry him everywhere in case he wakes up and wants food… really ought to start carrying food /with/ me." she muses, frowning down at the little blue.

B'ky lifts a brow at Galina's answer, "Four?" the man pausing then, eyebrow sinking again, the creases upon his forehead deepening, "That.. one, ah, does not seem the most of pleasant creatures." Not that the bluerider is biased or anything, ahem. There's a pause, B'ky clearly hesitating befre answering Marika, "Ah.. someone similar to myself, perhaps. Although I would reccommend someone with firelizards. Ah, Avideth has little patience for them when they misbehave..he, ah, has been known to frighten them between." Alas, the gentleman dragon is not quite so gentlemanly all the time. He does nod, though, "They can," about dragons putting firelizards into line, "Though if they're too.. hmm, forceful about it, they.. can sometimes scare the creatures wild." Or so he seems to believe, at any rate. A flicker of amusement passes over his features, although B'ky has done eating his pie, an that bag of cookies is given a quiet look. With a soft sigh, the wingleader gets to his feet, picking up the bag and murmuring, "I should probably deliver these before they get too cold. Ah.. if you'll excuse me," inclining his head to the other three, he heads out of the kitchen, not quite so stealthily as he'd entered, a touch of sudden apprehension in his face. But for what.. well, who knows.

"A green dragon helped clip the worst of Redwort's thorns, to put it euphemistically. He remains difficult to work with, but he is not as feral as he was." Galina finishes her cookie off, dusts her hands off on a cloth nearby, and her head tips back. "Easy is relative. They are useful. They serve a purpose. And that is worth ensuring they are clean, oiled, and fed when they cannot hunt on their own." Her mouth pulls to a side. "After a few months, they are generally able to hunt on their own. Until then, jerky tends to suffice nicely." But 'easy'? She doesn't have a concrete answer for that … but, that's relativity at work. To B'ky, there's only a mild, "Be well," as he prepares to leave; there's nothing to say to the half-question of four … she has them, that's all that /can/ be said.

Marika frowns slightly at B'ky, "Hmm, I'm not sure I'd want… that." The firelizard to be driven wild. "He seems… harmless enough. Not especially bright though, had to stick the food directly under his nose before he took a bite." Might make things difficult when it comes time for training. "Mmhmm, I definitely will be keeping him clean and oiled and fed… er, where would I pick up oil?" she asks, though Hemi suggests, "Store rooms, perhaps?" and Marika nods slowly. "I… hm." She eyes the young firelizard. "He is getting a little larger already. I should… /We/ should go find some oil." she says, though she picks up a pie to go, with a "Thanks!" to Galina, before heading out, Hemi close behind. Presumably she'll ask about that book another time, it's not like Galina will be going back to the Hall for a while yet.

"I have-" Galina begins, but as Marika departs, the words simply drop into the ether, replaced with a quick, "Be well." A mental note is made instead, which will eventually manifest in a more physical form much later — just a quick note to Marika, delivered courtesy of Cyanosis, to let her know she has oil cloths for the sole purpose of oiling firelizards (or for numbweed application, but that's neither here nor there). The healer-turned-candidate soon finishes up her baking, divides the results, and is off to deliver everything before curfew. And then? To tend to her beasts, with sleep remaining a quaint notion — as always — that she never quite 'gets'.

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.