Xanadu Weyr - Petals and Pots Garden Shop

Upon entering this rustic shop, the smell of flowers is the first thing that one notices as well as the subtle musty scent of fertilizer. Selling everything for your garden needs from flowers and plants to pots and tools, the whole shop is lined with shelving filled with various things, arranged neatly by type. On the back wall trowels, rakes, shovels and clippers hang from nails, while underneath them clay pots, glass vases and bowls are stacked on the floor. In the middle of the shop is a small table that is filled with tiny glass perfume bottles with glass stoppers, each bearing a label that says 'Handcrafted by Tsenik'. These contain different fragrances, depending on the shape of the bottle. A variety of hanging baskets dangle from the ceiling, tumbles of lush vibrant flowers or vine-type plants trailing from them with price tags on the pots.

A sign can be seen near the entrance that simply states "Woo your significant other, send a hint to your brother or say hello to your mother with a surprise delivery!"


It's one of those days, when Tsenik wasn't around since he's started a shop in Ierne, and his shop keeper was sick, and the girl that replaced the replacement wasn't thrilled about taking care of flowers so shucked off the work on another, who ended up getting placed elsewhere so who passed it along to the headwoman who gave the work order to an assistant headwoman who divvied up the work to a few workers, one of which who exchanged duties with Zaala because of allergies. It's a Weyr thing. The work goes down the ladder and eventually someone gets it, namely a girl who wasn't really distinguished in any particular area enough to be missed, even her sewing wouldn't be missed for a day. Thus, working alongside another individual picked by the assistant headwoman, Zaala was currently arranging flowers while the other was working the order desk. Zaala was wearing an apron today on top of a blouse and shorts, with slippers on her feet. Loose hair hung around her shoulders with a few pieces pinned around her temples. She was currently arranging pink and orange flowers together with some fern trimmings to decorate the piece, adding small buttercups against the backsplash of pink and orange.

In through the door comes a fairly tall man, with the typical broad-shouldered physique seem among riders, and waist-length blackish hair in a wrist-thick braid not typical to many people at all. This one is wearing Fort's colors, the knot of a Weyrsecond, and a genial, friendly smile as he comes in the door. "Hello," he says to Zaala, who is closest to him. "Got anything you can wrap up to withstand the cold of /between/?" he asks curiously.

Zaala lifts her eyes from the arrangement, clearly lost in her own thoughts as it takes a while to register that the Fortian actually asked her something, which causes a strange wide eyed reaction. She draws her hands down her apron to wipe off some of the water and greenry from her fingers, eyes bouncing toward the other worker who seems to be involved with trying to detach a message from a firelizard who wanted to nip. Thus her pale hazel eyes revert to the Fortian as she studies the man, "I'm sure anything here can make the journey sir. It just requires proper packaging." She dips her chin down to press behind her ear some strands of hair, "Is there something in particular you'd like?"

M'lo nods a bit and lets his eyes drift to the floral arrangement she was working on. "That's nice," he comments. "I want to bring home something for my two daughters. Their birthday is a sevenday. They'll be ten." He pauses to think about it. "Mmm, something in a pot, I don't think it bodes well to give them cut flowers that will just wither away. But they're quite different, even if they are twins, I don't want to give them both the same thing."

Zaala flickers her eyes back to the other who is putting on a coat and quickly waves to her about needing to deliver something and being back as soon as he could. Zaala lifts a hand to acknowledge it, but that means she's faced with the daunting task of trying to figure this all out on her own. To the arrangement she nods her head, "This arrangement is called tropical sunrise." Whether or not that is true is hard to say as she moves around the counter and toward the front of the store, where most of the pots were, gathering sunlight and the like. "Over here-" she directs with a finger gesture, "You must forgive Tsenik for not being here, he's gone off to Ierne and started a shop there. He keeps someone employeed here but, today you get me." Add a smile. No need to go into all the details of who replaced who. Instead she starts to weed through the taller ferns in a pot and the tropical tree flower plants, to get to the potted ones. Her head reappears, "How big of a pot sir?" One hand draws up a pot that could fit in a child's hand, "Small like this… or…" wait for it, she comes lumbering out with a pot that she has to wrap both arms around and barely seems capable of carrying, which she sets down promptly, "or this size… Or there's larger ones back there that you'd have to get someone bigger to carry." All sorts of sizes.

M'lo nods. "Oh, no worries, miss. I understand, things happen sometimes that leave us scrambling." He follows her toward the front, head swivelling back and forth as he takes in the various plants. "Ah… maybe something just a little bit larger than that tiny one?" he suggests. "Something hardy. It's summer in Fort right now, but winter is coming." He props his hands on his hips and peers at a fern. "Milana's favorite color is pink," he tells Zaala. "And Daniela's favorite color is… well, it changes all the time, I think this week it's blue."

Datsun sneaks into the Petals and Pots Shop quietly, covered with bits of woodchips here and there on his clothes and in his hair. It's obvious he's just come from work or soon after, as his clothes and boots aren't the usual neat ones he's seen in. In one hand, the young Journeyman carries an empty wooden hanging pot by its thin chains that has a couple of small scenes carved into the sides of stories from the Woodcraft. His eyes glance briefly around, finding the ferns. His target acquired, the teenager heads over to that area.

M'lo looks down at the pot of flowers she brings out and grins. "Ah, that's perfect," he says, after doing a quick read of the label. "They're so cheerful, just like Mila." He bends down to take a whiff of the scent and nods approvingly. "Not bad," he murmurs. "Okay, that was easy. Now for Dani's…" He glances around, notes the woodcarver, gives a polite little nod hello, and then turns back to the girl. "Er… M'lo, brown Irelanth's," he introduces himself. "Sorry, I didn't get your name?"

"Blue… this week you said?" That calls for a moment of contemplation, twisting about and peering through the potted plants, "Do you think she'd like a variety of flowers in one pot? Wild flower pots are rather beautiful but there's no guarantee what sort of things will grow from it. I think there's one or two around here…" She scowers through the numerous plants and pots, coming back empty handed, tapping her finger to her chin. "I know I saw one around her earlier… Maybe it's in the back." She doesn't flee that way yet, since she's stalled with the name asking, offering, "Zaala." It's M'lo's greeting to the journeyman that has her eyes wandering that way as well, the young man's arrival bringing a blush to her face and a smile to her lips, "Datsun!" A call to distraction clearly.

Datsun returns the polite little nod to the Fortian brownrider, watching and listening as he lingers by the ferns. His attention isn't really on the ferns right this moment, studying the unknown brownrider. However, Zaala's call to him and the sight of her immediately brings a flush to his ears, returning the smile. "Hey, Zaala. I didn't know you were working here…" The Journeyman moves over to the pair, lifting up his empty hanging pot to show its empty contents, "I'm afraid I killed my fern. Tsenik said I couldn't, but I did." He looks guilty at the admission, noting the knot on the Fortian, "Fort. If you're coming here to buy flowers, then that must mean Tsenik got all of his transportation boxes figured out for Between."

"Yeah, this week," M'lo agrees with a grin. He considers the variety, but ends of shaking his head. "No, Mila might get jealous if she thinks her sister got more flowers than her. Do you have any blue flowers? Or purple. She does seem to like purple fairly regularly. And it compliments her auburn hair." He ducks his head in a nod when she gives him her name. "Well met, then." The blush on her face seems to interest him, and he looks back toward the woodcarver with a bit of speculation in his eyes. Ah-hah, the ears are always a telltale sign. He chuckles a bit. "I was here on business anyway, and I thought I'd pop in to see if there's anything I can get my daughters for their birthday. They're ten turns old in a sevenday."

"I'm sure there's purple ones back there. Blue ones are a little harder to get, at least, when it comes to bigger blossoms," as far as she's seen in the shop anyway, which her experience goes to a few hours past. To Datsun, that curious smile stays on her face, "Just for… today I think. I'm all they could come up with to help." She regards the empty hanging pot, looking over her shoulder at the taller ones, "Maybe get a bigger one? It seems all they need is fresh water once in a while and new soil every half Turn." The mention of Fortians coming down for flowers that can make it between has her shifting awkwardly, "I assume he had. I would just think to put fur around the flowers…" It was all the packaging right! "Fruits make it through *between* …" Flowers were just as delicate. As to finding the flowers for the rider, she darts back away and comes back with a second pot, painted with different colors, with purple flowers starting to bloom. "How're these?"

Datsun blinks as a memory resurfaces when M'lo requests blue flowers, "Borage." The Woodcrafter blurts out and immediately appears even more guilty than previously before he can stop himself but when he does so, he's suddenly unable to look at Zaala. "It's a herb. Blue flowers." He quickly explains and accepts the brownrider's explanation, "That's nice of you to get them flowers. Hopefully they'll be more kind to their flowers than I was to my fern. I'm Datsun, Journeyman Woodcrafter." A hand is held out as he introduces himself to the rider. When Zaala starts to suggest ferns, the Journeyman looks over at the ferns, "I'd have to get a bigger pot…" As for the between packaging, he shakes his head briefly, "Tsenik said he was going to discuss it with Journeyman Techcrafter Jethaniel. See if there were any new technology that could help him. That was a long time ago, though. I'm sure there's something in the back." When he sees the purple flowers offered to the Fortian, there's a small expression of relief that his suggestion wasn't taken until he's schooling his expression again.

M'lo crosses his arms casually and leans back against the counter while he waits for Zaala to grab the purple flowers. "Those are nice," he says. "They'll do, I think. I have packing materials on my dragon, actually. How much?" He's already reaching for his purse… but his hand diverts to shake Datsun's. "Well met," he tells the younger man. "I used to work in the transportation wing, so I'm usually well-stocked with wrappings and whatnot. But if the price covers protection for /between/, I'll take it."

Zaala turns her gaze to Datsun at the suggestion of the herb flower called borage, lifting her gaze, "An expert on flowers too?" She says with a hint of mirth in her tone, waiting to see what the Fortian thinks of the purple ones, ready to try and find the herb flower that Datsun suggested incase he didn't. Herbs were stored elsewhere in the shop. As for the Ferns, she murmurs, "I'm sure you could find one you'd be happy with." Big or small. Her gaze lingers back to the plants as the woodcrafter speaks of packaging, "I'm sure there is." Confident in Tsenik's ability since the man had built a shop in Ierne too. Something -must- be working for Tsenik. The pricing makes her chew her lower lip, lifting a finger with some hesitation, "I'll be right back to check that." And that means the girl is making quick pace toward the order desk where her helper should've been but had run off to deliver something. It's through the notes and the papers there that she scrambles a look through, leaving the two to speak to one another while she tries to look for the potted plant pricing.

Shaking his head at Zaala's words, "No, just…" Then he decides it's better not to complete his answer to the question, leaving the words hanging. M'lo's hand is shaken and released, "Good thing you do. That must come in handy quite a bit." He comments about the between supplies already on M'lo's dragon before his eyes wander back to the ferns, "I remember seeing a blue-gray fern in here a while ago… it reminded me of home. The North." One eye goes over to the Fort knot on M'lo's shoulder. "It's strange for me to be here. I feel as if I've just left one season only to come to the same season coming down here."

"Alright," M'lo says easily enough. As Zaala runs back to page through prices, he turns to Datsun. "More than you'd think, actually," he admits with a grin. "What part of the North are you from?" he asks curiously. "It's a whole continent, after all."

Zaala takes her time trying to locate the pricing for the potted flowers, returning sometime later as the two are talking about the north. Her eyes turn toward Datsun to hear his answer, waiting patiently before interjecting in a break in the conversation toward M'lo, "Three marks. I'm sure if there's any problem, you could send word to Tsenik, he'd be more than happy to keep his clients satisfied with his work." Her co-worker returns with sweat on his brow and a purse full of marks, waggling them in Zaal's direction when she turns to regard him with a curious gaze. "Hey!" she calls out, pivoting toward him, "Do you know where the ferns are? The smaller ones?" It's a jungle in here after all!

M'lo forks over the required marks. "Would you two mind helping me load these onto my dragon?" he asks them. "He's not too far." Datsun probably saw him on his way in, a small pale brown with a freckled face, shoulders, and haunches. Snickerdoodle-colored.

"Yeah, you must get food and delicates like this from all over Pern." Datsun answers M'lo, a bit jealous that the rider can travel to anywhere in the world while he has to do it by foot and runner. A smile appears at the question. He's always happy to talk about his home. "Far Cry Hold. It's a small hold beholden to Lemos Hold. It's in the mountains with forests all around it. Here you can't go into the forest without protection." A sigh at that, "But I spent half of my life at the Woodcraft Hall too, so that's also home for me. What about you?" A blink, watching Zaala for a moment before nodding at M'lo, "Sure, I can."

Zaala smirks as the boy whose helping out goes to the back to find the smaller ferns, her eyes turning back toward her two customers, Tsenik's really. "You two seem like you can manage it," the girl notes with a hint of a lifted eyebrow, counting two pots and two male figures. But this was Tsenik's shop and she shrugs, "If you really need me lifting it for you…" as if she didn't sound too thrilled about the idea. She had flower arrangements to take care of afterall and a woodcrafter to find a fern for.

"Actually… as fancy as this knot is, I spend most of my time at Fort. I only have time to leave when I'm on business, and then, you know, I'm working. That I had a few minutes to pop in here is slightly unusual. There is /endless/ paperwork." M'lo grins. "But then, I get days off, sometimes, and that's pretty wonderful. We like to take the children places, sometimes. Or get away together, just me and my weyrmate." He nods. "Please," he asks Zaala. "See, I'll climb up there, and you two pass me the pots…" he's making hand motions. "I'll let you sit on Irelanth," he offers, just to sweeten the deal.

Datsun nods at M'lo, "Seems like it that way sometimes when I see riders." He answers about the paperwork, "It sounds like it is." However, at his pleading to Zaala, the Journeyman furrows his brows but chooses to say nothing, looking back and forth between the rider and the girl.

Zaala doesn't seem too impressed with all the talk of work and what M'lo's life really looks like, pursing her lips and pondering him a with more of a skeptical eye than before. It's a one two up and down look, judgemental too. She does shrug then when he asks her nicely, "Alright. But I don't need to sit on your dragon sir, there's work to be done. Besides, both my parents are dragonriders and I sit on Kereth as much as I want." She lowers and hoists up the pink potted plant, looking to Datsun for a moment, a smile of gratitude on her lips as she starts to lumber outside, arms wrapped around the pot. "Come on then, I have a fern to find for Datsun after we get you loaded up Fortian." Chop chop.

M'lo laughs a little bit, both at Datsun's comment and Zaala's unimpressed once-over. "I'm not complaining about the job," he says as they walk outside. "I mean, I get a dragon who is the best friend I could ever hope for, and I don't have to risk my life flying Thread every other day. No drawbacks, really. Paperwork isn't bad… and there's plenty of time to spend with my family once my duties are done." It's easy to see Irelanth, lounging in the sun. The great beast turns his spotted head toward them and crouches down in anticipation of their arrival. There's a split second where he looks from the girl to his rider, and then actually nods. M'lo pauses in the act of clambering up the straps. "Alright," he murmurs to his lifemate.

Datsun sends a smile of gratitude back to Zaala at her words about not sitting on the dragon but doesn't voice it. Instead, he follows M'lo outside along with Zaala, "I suppose things /are/ easier for you riders nowadays now that Thread is gone." He admits, "But work's starting to pile up for us Woodcrafters. No thread, more forests. More forests means more management." And the price of wood going down. Irelanth is noted as they approach, blinking at the nod, a bit confused by that from a dragon.

Zaala looks over her shoulder slightly, between wisps of her wild blond hair that takes flight as soon as they get outside, the breeze teasing pieces up and about her shoulders. She rolls her eyes some as she marches toward the brown, shifting the weight of the pot in her arms so she doesn't drop it. "It sounds boring…" she bluntly tells the fortian, "My mother is part of the search and rescue, which has a little excitement to it. Her weyrmate just got back from undercover work." How does she know? Because she knows everything there is about gossip in the Weyr. "My father… he's been everything from Weyrleader to wingleader and been everywhere on Pern. HEY…" she suddenly laughs, "Maybe that's why he sired so many of us Shiptons, because he was bored of paperwork." There's a smirk, besmerching her father's name, even if she did love the man. Her attention swivels back to Datsun, "Aren't they screaming for apprentices right now?" More forests mean more work. "The woodshop did seem busy-" her face flushes then as she turns back to regard the sight of the brown whose staring at them. She nears him and sets the pot down, "There you go. One potted plant for a turnday gift."

M'lo finishes climbing the rest of the way up the straps and leans down in what appears to be a perilous position to accept the first pot from whomever will hand it to him. He's perfectly secure, though, with a strap wrapped around his opposite leg for good measure. "Seems like you know a lot about dragons, Zaala." There's a pause. "How would you like the chance to Impress your own? Irelanth seems to think you've got the right stuff." He glances at Datsun. Having seen the blushing going on between them, and the special smiles and all, he knows it might be quite a decision. "And you know, I bet that the Woodcraft up in Fort area could always use another apprentice." To be clear - he's offering Zaala a Candidacy, and he's offering Datsun a ride so he can be close to the girl he's got calf-eyes over.

Datsun's own ears flush again at the mention of a busy woodshop, "Aye, we are. But that also means the price is going down with more wood becoming available. But there are also new types coming up now that they're finally being allowed to grow, so those earn us more marks… So it kinda balances out." A shrug, quirking an eyebrow at the undercover work comment from Zaala, "Your father was busy." He agrees with her about that, moving and handing up the other pot to M'lo once Zaala's pot is handed to the brownrider. As soon as the pot is let go, Irelanth's request catches him off-guard, blinking as he doesn't quite understand. It hasn't made sense to him yet and he actually begins to back away from the brown in bewilderment, "I'm a Journeyman…" He even introduced himself as one.

Zaala will look to the stronger Datsun to hand the pots up, since she would probably knock herself on the head with it in attempts to push it up that high. Instead she side-steps out of his way for a moment, looking up at the Fortian with a shrug, "It's called being born in a Weyr." Hey there's the attitude everyone knows that's in her. The secondary question has her stiffen up, answering slowly once it's clear that the offer of candidacy was made to her, "I've considered it before but I've never asked to stand," which is the right of every weyrborn child, to stand, especially with a child born of two dragonrider parents. "I honestly don't know what I want, so I've never asked… and with what happened with Xanadu's last clutch…" she trails off with a sullen look and a shudder to go with, even if she wasn't a candidate, that was horrible. She rubs her arms and looks over toward Datsun, then back to the rider, trying to find some sort of clarification or answer.

"Er… of course you are," M'lo says, focusing on Datsun's knot. "How stupid of me. Bit distracted with the flowers and my dragon yelling at me to get her out here so he can have a proper look and offer her the knot. I am sorry." He grimaces an apologetic sort of look. He accepts the pot and starts to wrap it up in various cloth and furs, careful to leave a bit of a bubble around the leaf and flowers. "Well, Zaala, not every weyrbrat has the right stuff. My lifemate here thinks you do. So now you know. It's possible. But I can't wait around all day, just another… hour or so. Enough time for you to make your goodbyes and pack some bags if you want to come." He raises his eyebrows at her, and begins to fasten down the flowers.

At the mention of the dragon yelling at M'lo, Datsun's eyes shift to the brown's head. Nothing is said in response to his apology, his mind focused on other things rather than the mistake of him being an Apprentice instead of a Journeyman. The teenager backpedals away from the riding pair until he feels it's out of either one's reach, turning to lock hazel eyes on Zaala. At her words, a small amount of hope appears in his expression. Still unsure how to act, he recalls his rank as a Journeyman and the lesson Briana taught him recently so he simply ends up shoving his hands into his pockets, half sullen and half hopeful, brows furrowing even further at M'lo's words about Irelanth's beliefs.

The time limit of an hour causes her to see spots. It was a lot of pressure for a girl her age to decide on something so huge within the hour! It's a good thing she had put her pot down, otherwise she would've dropped it. Instead now she has a distant look on her gaze, the weight of the contemplation, the implications of what that choice could mean - her eyes flickering to Datsun. Eyes then pivot away, her breathing caught in her throat. Goodbyes…! That makes her fingers wring in her hair, tugging some of it in an absent way, a mannerism that comes with her being uncomfortable or upset. "I … I only have an hour?" she squeaks in a distressing tone, "I don't even know if my mom is home! She's probably working…! The shop…" and then there's her other friends and the woodcrafter. She looks at him, brows uplifted in a worried expression.

M'lo sighs a bit at the display, stressed to have caused her stress. "Irelanth can bespeak her dragon," he says. There's a glance at Datsun. Then he turns his attention back to Zaala. "Pass up the flowers, please," he asks politely. "I'll finish tying it down while you think about it." Pause. "Talk to your friend, if that'll help. I know you'll miss each other… but like I said, Fort's probably looking for more woodcrafters. Perhaps he can — perhaps you can transfer, Datsun. Come visit on her days off." Seems there's some sympathy for their young love.

It takes a moment for Datsun to realize that Zaala has chosen to go. Now his face turns fully sullen and his eyes dark. His eyes meet Zaala's, watching her for a moment as the fear grows inside him. He can't help his emotions until he finally snaps and points a finger at M'lo when he says they'll miss each other, "You /riders/ th…" The word is minced with anger until that recent lesson from Briana resurfaces in his mind and his hand comes down, working his expression into a cool one, "Thank you, but no. I'm not going back after I've gone this far." Then he turns on his heels, muttering under his breath as he walks off at a rapid pace, "/Weyrs/. I knew I should've chosen a Hold instead. You idiot."

Zaala doesn't pass up the flowers. The longer it takes for him to tie down the last pot, the longer she has to think. Besides there was no way she was going to manage passing it up that far. Then her attention is on Datsun. The rapid pace and the anger causes her to call after him, "Datsun… ! -Wait-…!" She didn't say yes yet, did she? She gives a plaintive look back to M'lo before she's trying to catch up with Datsun. "Please…!" she tries to reach out a hand to grab his wrist or to grab his shoulder, which ever she can manage first.

M'lo is silent as he watches the little drama play out. When Zaala runs out after Datsun he simply slides down and picks up the pot, himself. And he manages to load it well enough without any extra help from the teens. Seems that might have been a pretext to get them outside for Irelanth to ogle. Once everything is tied down and ready for transport, he just reclines against his dragon's soft hide and waits for Zaala's decision.

As soon as his shoulder's grabbed before he's gone too far, Datsun twists around suddenly to lift Zaala off her feet into a tight bear hug. Placing his head next to hers, his voice oddly gentle, "Go. I'm not fool enough to leave a dragon without their possible lifemate. It's the Holder's curse." Indeed, Holders throughout history have had their loved ones taken away by dragonriders. "Just… just… don't forget me. We're… we were special. Remember that." Then the Woodcrafter's eyes shift to M'lo with a stare. "Anything happens to her… I'll hold you responsible. Both of you." The dragon is included.

The hug is unexpected, especially with him being in such a rage. Zaala only has enough time to 'oh' softly as she's swept off the ground and given a big old hug. She tries to wrap her arms around him all the same, trying to give back a hug. At least when he lets her down, she throws her arms around him, pressing her head against his chest, eyes not able to hold back a couple tears. Hey, she's a teen, she's prone to emotions. She moves half a step back to put some distance between them so she can run her fingertips down his jaw, "We -are- special." She corrects him, a heartrending smile on her face, sad but relieved that he's not mad at her. And damn it if a dragonrider is watching, she isn't a candidate yet! She pops up onto her toes once he's done ranting over to the dragonrider to give him a kiss. Cover your eyes M'lo! When she pulls back, she quietly says to him, "Don't forget -me- …" since you know, it goes both ways. Then she hugs him again, one last hug.

There's a faint grimace as M'lo watches, and as Datsun makes his ominous little promise to him and his lifemate. "She'll be fine, if she decides to come. She still hasn't said /yes/, you know," he points out gently. "But rest assured we don't make it a habit to endanger our Candidates. The last thing we'd want is for a dragon not to Impress." There's the touching goodbye, which M'lo watches with unabashed curiosity. Hey, their choice to kiss in public. "He can still come visit," he reminds them. "As long as you have a day off, you can have guests at the Weyr. In public places, of course. There are rules, once you accept the knot. Speaking of which…" He starts patting pockets until he comes out with the white knot. It's in his hand. All she has to do is say yes, and it's hers. It gleams innocently in the daylight.

Datsun takes the hug more than willingly from Zaala, his eyes locked on hers and only her. His head cants into the fingertips, pressing into them and looking defeated as they leave his face. "We are." He affirms her words, taking the kiss with one of his own pressing back. A soft laugh at her words, "How can I? You're unforgettable." His hand comes up and caresses her jaw the same way she did with him after the last hug is given and taken. A sad smile, "I'll bring mud specially from Xanadu to throw on you at Fort. Maybe we can get chained together again." Then it's M'lo that gets his attention, nodding. "I'll hold you to it, Rider. Of course she will." One eyebrow raises at him, "Nobody's about to pass up a dragon. And I'm well aware of the Candidate rules, we just had two clutches here… Clear skies, M'lo and Irelanth." Their names are said in part to commit them to memory to remember who to hold responsible should anything happen. "Safe travels…" The last is said to Zaala, his hand falling away from her as he steps back several steps, eyes on her until he finally turns and trots off back to the Woodshop.

There is a fond smile for Datsun at the soft laugh, giving one of her own for the promise of coming to bring Xanadu mud, lifting a finger at him, "You better make sure you do." Though she highly doubts a repeat punishment of being chained together a second time! She leans her face into his fingers as well, eyes closing, savoring the moment. Then Zaala backs from Datsun once their touching exchange comes to a finale, her eyes looking back over her shoulder and through some of that wild blond hair of hers, eyes on the candidate knot. "Eirwyn is there…" she remembers, "We'll look after one another Datsun," she promises to Datsun even if M'lo does guarantee safety. Then her tongue licks her lips, gulping to wetten down her throat so it doesn't crack as she turns back to M'lo, "I'll go with you." Despite it making her stomach flutter, which her hand lifts to press there, she appears to be emboldened for the prospect. Fort. She hadn't been to Fort. "I'll be back with my things soon." She'll have to leave her mom a note and make sure the assistant headwoman filled her spot for the garden shop. Otherwise, there's a long careful look at Datsun, watching him depart. Why was it so hard?! She was rooted to the spot until he was out of sight. Only then does she follow through with her promise and dash off to collect her things, calling back to M'lo, "I'll be quick," then she's running fast enough to cause her tears to streak back towards her ears and to get the wind up underneath her hair to toss it wildly up behind her.


'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.