Southern Bowl - Ista Weyr(#69RJ$)
Spread out along the larger end of the caldera, this end of the bowl is significantly larger than that which lies just beyond the small inlet of two feet of craggy mountains that creep down to form an incomplete partition. The walls of the ancient volcano, long-since slumbering inactive, spread upward with sheer cliffaces that reach into the sky, their outlines reminiscent of four pointed fingers and a thumb. Activity bustles in this area at nearly all hours of the day with dragons or people coming and going throughout the bowl on various errands.
Tucked into the southernmost wall are the living caverns, the gaping tunnel that leads within illuminated by the glowbaskets set within; just beside this is a larger entrance that leads to the dragon infirmary. The Hatching grounds are found in this area, with a tunnel a ground level just large enough to allow passage for an egg-heavy Queen and a larger, gaping entrance in the side of the mountain for draconic spectators to enter. Numerous weyrs dot the mountainside and the ground in this area, some darkened and some illuminated from within.
Contents:
Catriona
Obvious exits:
Infirmary   Caverns Tunnel   Ground Weyrs   Hatching Grounds    Northern Bowl

It is currently late at night on day 13 of the 6th month of Turn 1 of the 11th Pass.

Absently fluffing her curls back into some semblance of order, Catriona pads out of the living caverns and pauses to flick a glance at the sky. Where do the hours go? "Mrmph." Just a mild vocalization of general unhappiness with how quickly the day's sped by, don't mind her. Plastering on a somewhat less disgruntled smile, the girl wanders in a northerly direction.

Z'vind is sort of skulking around at the edge of the tunnel, cast in the shadow of glows from overhead, and the moons above. "Hmm," he echoes the passing rider, and goes on shuffling. In.

You head through the narrow tunnel and into the bustling living caverns.

Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)
Vibrant environs enclosed by smooth stone walls, these caverns are the very heart of bustling Weyr life. The largest is massive and designed to house almost the entire population of the Weyr at once, with tables and benches arranged in perfectly neat rows that run almost the entire length of the half-circle cave. Tapestries are flung from the ceiling, draping down in bright hues of Istan black and orange as well as colorful scenes of past heroics detailing all the fiery glory of Pernese history. Hearths line the walls, at least one of which constantly burning with a pot of stew and a pitcher of klah set there to keep warm.
Tunnels branch off from these central caverns, leading deeper into various parts of the Weyr. To the east lie the infirmaries, both human and draconic, beyond a small wooden door to minimize the noise that will filter through. West are the kitchens and the storerooms from which emanate delectable smells at nearly all hours of the day or night, drudges bustling to and from with dishes and platters. Stairs lead down into the lower caverns while a man-sized tunnel cuts through the stone and back out to the bowl. Smaller tunnels diverge here and there as well.
Contents:
Dara
R'kel
Falina
Sienna
Auntie Iza
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns   Stairs   Kitchens   Infirmary    Bowl

Sienna speaks quietly, bantering on yet still. "Im a um,..." She flusters, forgetting momentarily what she was going to say. "I'm uhm, an apprentice." She grins, sheepishly.

Z'vind stumps his boots at the entrance, clearing what moisture may have accumulated, and thus leaving a silvery trail on the convenient rug. "Evening," he growls at a passing bluerider, then assumes a more congenial expression for the next one in line to fetch his rider. The dinner crowd, most probably.

Z'vind(#499PXce$)
Stubby, short but stubbornly black hair sprouts scalp-close from generally clean-shaven features, boyishly tanned with a frail line of stubble to demarcate chin from cheek. His face is highly angular, jaw etched with sly lines of woe or laughter. Grey eyes and clipped chin straggle casually together with the rest of this youth's sturdy, slightly lanky form, long legs claiming a wide stride as an obscure slur marks his baritone.
Earthy riding leathers fit closely to Zar's tanned skin, oiling and long usage giving them a fine sheen. A jet, tooled jacket smartens up the ensemble, matching the darker brown of long leather pants that tuck effortlessly into knee-high boots. In errant contradiction, his tunic's tails spill out, not quite concealing the belt that snakes in cocky imitation of the Istan knot he sports higher up: saffron on sable on a single thread of chaste brown.

He is 16 Turns, 12 months, 22 days old.

"It's been a while," the girl grins, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth on the chair. A usual posture she assumes when not riding or on her feet. "I can explore without getting lost, so." Grin. At the introduction, she starts with a "Nice to meet you, Fal.." Blinkblink. "..ina." She's asleep.. Hmm. Were Dara insecure, she'd wonder if she was /that/ boring.

Z'vind makes his way over to the drinks soon enough, ignoring the grunt from the bartending girl. Too much, too often, perhaps. Cradling a glass of clear liquid, he strides back across the caverns, absently dropping down into a sideways seat.

Sienna notes the location of the bar and gets up to pour herself a big glass of something amber and quite intoxicating-looking. A placid smile on her face, the timid girl returns to her seat at the table.

Indeed, R'kel did hear Sienna, and he grins in her direction, "Nice to meet you, Sienna." He extends in a soft voice, smiling brightly, before he notices Z'vind... "Good evening, Brownrider Z'vind!" R'kel exclaims quickly, snapping off a polite salute, as required, before turning his attention, again! "Shards, 'Lina..." Mumbles the young man, brow furrowing in concern; she'll hurt her back sleeping like that. "Sorry, Darling Dari. Weyrling work is hard..." He drawls with a wry smile, gently reaching down strong arms to brace beneath Falina's legs and neck. "I'll return in a moment. Must look out for my fellow Weyrlings." Softly he speaks, lifting the Greenrider gently in his arms, carefully. R'kel is plenty strong enough.

Sienna sips at her drink, gulping it down. Her cheeks flush, this time non-embarassment induced. Perhaps she isn't used to imbibing alchohol...regardless, she keeps on taking large sips from the tall glass of liquid, her eyes now sparkling with friendliness.

Falina has partially disconnected.

Falina flutters her eyes open a little....and she's being picked up by R'kel. Blinkblink. "Oh..Rik..." she yawns, and then leans her head on his shoulder, apparently asleep once again, though without the snoring this time.

Z'vind has been away too often -- he drops his head in acknowledgement of the salute, waving a hand upwards. He takes leaves then to turn around slightly, to eye Sienna and her drink. Slowly, of course; jaw slips to gulp a portion of his own wine.

Sienna downs the remaining liquid and returns for another glass, her complexion now quite ruddy. Perhaps she's had a long day.

Sienna is a tall and slender girl of 16 turns, with limbs that are well-muscled and tawny. Due to the fluid litheness of her movements, you assume that she has been gifted with an inborn sense of grace. A doubley-blessed young woman, she is not only agile, but very lovely as well. Gloriously long and wavy sienna gold hair frames her delicate face and trails down her back in a shimmering waterfall. In striking contrast to her wild-looking hair, her pale jade eyes seem to convey a sense of restraint and wisdom--two traits unusual in a youth.

She is wearing her famously lovely hair in a single, thick braid, so as to prevent errant strands from getting in the way of her vetrinary work. Today she is wearing a practical outfit, designed for stable and garden work. A tightly clinging ivory cotton bodice, laced intricately up the front with vivid scarlet cords, is worn on her torso. Over the bodice Sienna is wearing a stylish black wher-hide leather jacket, with intricate embroidery along the sleeves. She is also wearing a pair of tight black wher-hide leather pants, which have been covered with a layer of fine silver mesh(This delicate net decorates and accentuates the leather as much as it protects it!) Sienna completes this ensamble with a pair of thick, silver-clasped, black wher-hide leather boots--which appear clean for once!

The young girl is devoid of most forms of decoration while prepared to work, the only adornment being a fine woven sisal belt. From this, a fluted silver flask dangles, filled with water. Hung alongside the flask are an herb pouch, a tool kit, a polished set of bone flute pipes, and a coil of finely-spun rope. A simple, woven orange and black knot signyfing allegiance to Ista Weyr is worn over her shoulder.

She nods slightly, tapping a foot against the edge of the chair. "Of course," she grins slightly. She doesn't know about Falina and R'kel yet - if she did, there'd likely be a playful jest in there. "I was just going to hop up myself.." She gets up, and goes not for the klah pot or the bar, but into the kitchen for some juice squeezed from a local fruit. Much better, much better. [Dara]

Sienna says "I like..." She stops, pausing in mid sentence to take another gulp of her drink. "I like, runners, because..they can run." She smiles quite proudly, as if she had just made some sort of mind shattering statement. "Do you have runnerbeasts here?" She addresses thin air for a moment. Again, she sips. "Of course you do..of course..what a dumb question. I' have to go see the runnerbeasts later...", again, to thin air... "remind me.."

R'kel disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.
Falina disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Sienna says "What's that you're drinking?" She asks Z'vind. She is abnormally friendly, acting quite out of character for herself. "It looks good."

R'kel comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

The minute her brother leaves the room, a change seems to wash over Dara. She doesn't seem quite so friendly, or quite so.. jovial? as before. Instead, the girl just rocks back and forth slightly, quiet until her brother returns.

"White. You sure /that/ isn't too strong for you, girl?" Z'vind offers towards Sienna, shifting briefly in his chair. "And yeah, this one's good. Good for nights."

Sienna says "I kin drink it!" She mumbles. Its painfully obvious the girl is quite out of her league. "Ok, so maybe not. I dont usually drink. But its my first night here..." She waves her hand aimlessly about, mumbling onwards. "I gots to talk to Headwoman Ismaye about applying for res'dency. Then I need to go visit the' parents!"

Z'vind crosses his arms on the chair's back -- all the better to look at the weyr's inhabitants in a new light -- "Sounds fine. The weyr always needs new hands around," he spouts rhetoric, and examines Sienna, and even Dara, who isn't quite so far away from his line of sight. "Whose parents are these?"

Boot steps fall hard upon the cavern floor, and in treads R'kel, smile painted upon his features. Immediatley, the Weyrling heads towards his sister, stopping at the serving table briefly to snag a mug of juice, lips parting in a even wider expression of joy. He's rarely not in a good mood... Moving to seat himself next to Dara, he throws an arm across the back of her chair, sipping at his juice, "How've you been, darling?" Drawls the Brownrider in question, tilting his head to the side, bangs splaying across his forehead.

Sienna says "My parents. They're chefs. At Ista Hold." She sips the last sip from her second glass, and looks down at its empty bottom. Apparantly torn between doing what she wants and having another glass, or acting like the pious new apprentice. Her demons win, and she pours herself another glass at the bar, soon returning to the table and resuming her conversation with the dragon rider fellow. "Im applying for residency here, coz I want to stay close to the parents. But not too close."

Rhire comes out of the infirmary, the wooden door swinging shut behind her.

Rhire walks out of the infirmary, wrapped in a blanket, blinking a bit. She gives a weak smile to those around her, sitting down in a chair by the hearth. She shivers a bit, wrapping the blanket more firmly about her.

Eyeing Z'vind and Sienna, Dara answers. "Oh, I've been all right.." Frankly, the girl's a bit unnerved that someone can get drunk that fast. While working in the stables has given her a talent for cursing quite creatively when needed, it's probably one of very few unsavory things she's had experience of. Intoxicating substances don't fall into that list. But the girl shrugs it off, scooting around in her chair to face her brother, mug of juice in one hand. "Why so many new residents all of a sudden?" she queries, almost out of the blue. "It's like they're evacuating one of the smaller Holds or something." Dari's also never experienced the sort of traffic an active Weyr gets - a hold, of course, but not quite so.. firsthand.

Z'vind agrees, "Ista's a good place to live in," to the golden-tressed one. "Sun's warm and everything." But it's rather half-hearted, and the resonance of his baritone wavers slightly. It's indulgence that guides his arm to point to the bar, though, "You could try my white too. I think it's Tillek-pressed. What did you say your name was?"

Sienna says "Name's Sienna. And, I think I will...after this glass." She smiles to herself, continuing with her dainty sips. "You live here awhile, sir? And I dont believe I caught your name either..." Her voice trails off, eyeing the man right back.

Sienna just glanced your way.

Grinning, R'kel reaches his hand over to mess with Dara's hair, turning it into quite the fluff ball. "Well, this happens all the time, Dari. The Weyr is a great place to see, as you can see, and people migrate here all the time." Chuckling lightly, the young man crosses his legs, sipping at his juice. "The Weyr can always use more help, at any rate. Are the stables here treating you well, I hope?"

"Z'vind," Zar mentions. "Brown Kealath's rider. And I've lived here for two turns now. Gotten used to the weather and all." He lifts his glass to her: a toast. His gaze remains, hooded and latched upon glass and girl. "Don't believe I've actually sat here for long these days besides during mealtimes."

Rhire looks around at the crowd in the caverns, sighing softly. She lays her head against the back of the chair, just watching the goings on, looking very drained.

Sienna smiles warmly at Z'vind. "Well, Z'vind, I shall try some of your white, after I finish this." She taps her glass. Hearing mention of the stables, she turns swiftly to Dara, her face lighting up despite her obivous intoxication. "You work in the stables? That's great! Perhaps you can help me?"

Dara nods, taking a sip from her drink. "Mhmm!" She grins faintly as tousled hair falls across her eyes - if she grew it out, the weight would pull it down into normalcy in.. less than five ticks, likely. "The runners are lovely, some of the best I've seen.. I've met some of the stablehands, too. One called.." Ponder. Nose scrunches slightly. "Marshel, that was it. Journeyman Beastcrafter. He asked if I could help him train the runners; sessions are too far apart right now to do much good.." Certainly is a talktaive one when she's about people she knows - and knows well, mind. Trailing off, the girl looks over her shoulder towards Sienna. "Well, I'm rather new here, so it depends on the type of help you need.."

Z'vind comments, randomly, "Beastcraft. Beats tanners or harpers, but animals are getting a little scrawny lately, everywhere I look." Perhaps an echoed attitude from the snoozing brown, to be sure. He drinks, in the meantime, and listens in.

Sienna has reconnected.
Sienna blushes for a moment, obviously caught in a drunken daze.
Sienna has partially disconnected.

Merrily, R'kel takes a sip from his juice, not drinking for several reasons; he's not allowed to, and he doesn't in the first place, juice suits him just fine. "Oh!" Exclaims the Weyrling, looking proudly down upon his younger sister, stormy eyes dancing. "That's wonderful, Dari! Even if the sessions are far apart, it's a start! You have a lot of talent, sis." Affectionately, he punches her in the shoulder, in a proud manner, and not hard at all- more of a pat, really. But then, his gaze turns towards Sienna, and he tries to hide his distaste at the intoxicated girl, swallowing down his comments, but keeping an eye upon Dara, while she's conversing...

Rhire swallows weakly, looking around her chair. It seems she's sat down in a rather uncomfortable position, and sighs at herself. Settling her hands on each of the arms of the chair, lifting herself up and repositioning her legs rather painfully. Then she settles down, groaning quietly and holding her side.

Sienna says "Anyways, about the stables...Im here to study runnerbeasts. At least, thats what my main charge as an apprentice here is." She drums her fingers on the table."

Sienna takes another sip of her drink, before continuing. "I am a trainer of sorts myself. I've been saving up money, need to buy my own runnerbeast. Im glad the stock here is good..Ill definitely need to check it out once Im a bit more..clear-headed." Blushing slightly, some of the normal Sienna returning, she notices the disgusted loos that brother and sister are trying to hide. "I..dont usually drink. It's been a hard move for me." She glances down at the table, her embarassment evident.

Sienna paws the table with her free hand, gripping the glass with the other. Perhaps conciounce has kicked in, as she obviously feels the need to express her unusual(for her at least, behavior). "Some men are pigs." She mutters, finishing off her glass. Standing, she heads to the bar, for hopefully the last time. Tapping a bottle, she glances back over her shoulder at Z'vind. "This one? The white?

"Mn.." So nods Dara, injured hand hanging over her knee, tapping slightly. "Well, I'm probably not the one to talk to.. you'd want the stablemaster. I'm not even an apprentice." And indeed, Dara isn't - nay, just a stablehand, but she likes what she does. The girl gives Sienna a slightly quizzical look, mug of juice forgotten in her good hand.

Rhire sighs quietly, thinking she's probably warmed herself long enough. So again she wraps the blanket around her shoulders, snugs it tightly to her, and shivers as she walks back towards the infirmary.

Z'vind glances up at Rhire's movement, then after her retreating back as he himself slips off his chair to pluck the bottle from Sienna's hand -- if she'll allow it, that is. "I'm afraid this is a little strong. But if you insist, well," he goes on to drawl, dangling his glass as carrot.

Rhire slips in through the wooden door to the infirmary.
Rhire has left.

Sienna narrows her green eyes at the brown rider. She holds out her hand for the bottle, a challenge sparkling in those usually docile eyes. "I can drink it." she says, confidently. Only a little slurred.

Rhire comes out of the infirmary, the wooden door swinging shut behind her.

Blinking, R'kel shrugs his shoulders in Sienna's direction, "I understand." He exclaims lightly in her direction, before turning about in his chair, face extended in a surprised manner. "Well, I'm reminded again why I don't touch the stuff." He whispers to his sister, shaking his head back and forth, and sipping at his juice. Good, non-intoxicating juice. "Plus, I can't imagine what Baileth would do if I couldn't tell him not to... Why, he'd probably have the Weyr at the mercy of his temper in no time." Chuckling, the man shakes his head, and then nods towards Rhire. "Good eve!"

Rhire walks back in, this time heading for the food table. Hearing R'kel's call, she turns her head and smiles at him weakly. "Heya," she says back, then grabs a cup of klah with both hands, sitting down in the nearest table and keeping the blanket about her.

Z'vind meets challenge with challenge. "Okay, and I'll see you walk in a straight line afterwards, girl," he murmurs, leaning towards an ear. Now, he, for one, isn't drunk, not with one glass or two. The bottle's duly offered with an implied generosity in a flicked palm. "I can drink two of these and not get tipsy at all."

Sienna's attention diverted, Dara just shrugs softly, turning back to face her brother. Her expression is still quite.. puzzled? Frankly, she doesn't know what to make of the golden haired girl, but she nods slightly at her brother's comment. "I'd hate to imagine that.." she murmurs, then stops before things start sounding conspiratorial over here. Holding up her hand, the girl grins faintly. "Don't think a runner threw me or something - I got this from Belena's play. Chasing dragons is hard work."

Sienna snatches the bottle from his hand and glares fiercely at Z'vind. To the bar she turns, wobbling even without the White! She pours it into one shot glass, and then another. She sets the bottle down, and glances over her shoulder at the brown rider. Then, she takes the first shot glass in hand, and downs it. Immediately after, she begins coughing wildly, her face flushing a bright red color. But she drank it. And its staying down.. She gives Z'vind a semi-triumphant look, cheeks still flushed.

Z'vind has his arms hovering behind Sienna, just in case she decides to fall down on him. He can't be blamed now, can he? And without guardians-- "You did it," says he, sounding genuinely surprised. His own glass lingers in one hand, then is raised to his lips for another sip. "I'll drink to you, girl." Not very respectful, he is.

Rhire watches Sienna, raising a brow. Then she chuckles softly, shaking her head. She takes a sip of her klah, only the smallest bit, and sighs. "I wish it could've lasted longer.." she whispers softly, resting her elbow on the table, cheek in her palm.

Sienna wheezes softly and reaches for the other shot glass. She can barely focus on the thing as she wraps her fingers about it, lifting the full glass. She mutters to herself, not so quietly, "If he can do it..so can I.." and turns back to Z'vind. She doesn't look in any condition to drink, but then again, she doesn't look to be in any condition to be told not too. With a devil-may-care-glint twinkling in those sparkling eyes, she tips her glass upwards. Cheers.

Sienna gasps and begins coughing anew, her cheeks *flaming* red now. She fairly falls forward, but stops herself. Leaning back against the bar, she takes a few, deep breathes. Eventually she can breathe smoothly again, and her complexion lightens in pallor.

"She'll be regretting that tomorrow morning." Exclaims R'kel softly to his sister, having turned to observe the hacking girl, who had just downed the strong drink. Shaking his head a few times, the weyrling drains the remainder of his juice, and sets the mug upon the table, turning his gaze to the side, he looks upon Rhire for a few moments. "Rhire, would you like to join Dara and I? It looks lonely over there." He offers gently, smile upon his lips. Sweeping his gaze downward for a moment, he bites his lip, and sweeps at a purple spot, which has fallen upon his white tunic; now how obvious is that? And he kept it clean all through the day, too.

Z'vind plays devil's advocate then, and watches her take the shot. Someone should perhaps be coming along to take care of the situation, but most weyrfolk leave Zar to himself recently, as habit. Even Auntie Iza, at times. Toast ended, he just stands, and reaches out a steadying arm for Sienna. "Told you, didn't I? There, get over it." He even offers his glass again.

Dara has disconnected.

Rhire's eyes, which seem to have fallen, look up at R'kel again. "Really?" she asks softly, sitting up properly. "I, uh.." she starts, looking down at her legs. "Oh, shardit.." she says quietly. "Why now?"

Sienna blinks blearily at Z'vind, trying to focus on his face. Whispering in a small voice, she manages to say, "You win...there's no way I can walk in a straight line." She sighs, "no way..."

Z'vind suggests to Sienna, too kindly. "Maybe I can help." There're tired lines in his face belying his second decade, which heighten somewhat as he returns glance for bleary focus.

Sienna says "I dont need your help!" Head held proudly high, the flaxen-haired herder girl stomps off towards the table she was sitting at previously. More than once, though, she trips on her own feet, almost stumbling flat on to her face. Trying to regain her balance and composure, she opts to sit at a closer table instead. "Stupid men. Stupid men." She appears to be having a pivitol flashback moment. Hopefully noone can hear as she continues mumbling, obviously irrate at some man in her past. "Stupid Lenod."

"Really..." R'kel urges lightly, smile soft on his lips, looking over towards his sister, "But, it seems darlin' has fallen asleep, so, I can come join you as well... If desired, of course!" It's a cheery offer, for the young woman seems to need cheering up. He scuffs his bootheel gently, and tips his head to the side, bangs splaying across his forehead, waiting patiently for a response, and pointedly ignoring the mumbling beneath her breath.

Rhire has disconnected.

"Aw, c'mon Sienna, it's dangerous to walk around like this." Zar's being sensible for once, but his words look likely to fall on absent ears-- he struts back over. "Or perhaps you need some rest. Lenod's not here, anyway." He's pretty intent on this right now, and merely glances at R'kel and his sister.

Sienna glares up at Z'vind, her face darkening in an uncharacteristic rage for perhaps the second time in her entire life. The incredibly angry expression dissipates as soon as it appears however, and she sighs. "Lenod's not here.." She says slowly, pointedly. "Because he's dallying in the stables with one of the kitchen maids. Again, no doubt." She chortles to herself. Sighing, she shakes her head, and raises her hand in a light gesture to cover her mouth, as if in appology to what she is saying. "I cant, cant seem to control myself.."

Raising upward from his chair, R'kel casts his stormy gaze once about the cavern, before stretching his arms over his head, and yawning widely. "Well, good night, Z'vind," At this point, he offers a salute, "Sienna." Nodding his head once, the young man starts a slow stride from the cavern, crossing his arms over his chest, once casting a glance back towards his sleeping sister.

Sienna raises her hand and waves it aimlessly about, a sort of goofy goodbye to R'kel.

Z'vind lifts head and chin to R'kel. "Night." Not 'good', not this night.

R'kel disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Z'vind's brow clears, and he can't help but smile, lopsidedly. "Lenod's that kind of guy, I see. Well, why don't you get your own back at him?" He shrugs a shoulder, lazily, and opts to lean a boot against the nearby table-leg.

Sienna sighing again, she spares you a considering look, eyes still glazed over with the drink. "I already have. If he ever has children, it will be a miracle." She covers her mouth again, this time hiding a smile. Eyes twinkling impishly, she winks at you. Both eyes wink though. Her coordination is still..a bit off.

Z'vind winks back, daring to come closer. "You've been taking that thing they give the riders so much of? The weyr's a fine place for dalliances, and revenge too."

Sienna murmers, "Really?" She cocks her head to the side, curious. "And no, no..nothing like that. He's impotent. Crunches him good, I did. As I do all men who make the mistake of treating me like a common tumble." She smiles at you again, eyes bright. You wonder, perhaps, how much relevance her statement has. Maybe too much.

Sienna blinks blearily, feeling a bit dizzy!

Z'vind says, flinging his palms out in question: "Why do you want him at all?" And forgetting, Zar gains closer ground, but just stands there in silent pause, one hand going up to rake his dark hair. "What for?"

Sienna says "Why for do I want him? Why for?" She laughs in true amusement, her chortling as sweet as a silver belled melody. "Because I love him..loved him." She blinks, pondering. "And, if I were to tumble every boy that looked my way..." She shrugs. "I have to find one that truly takes my fancy. One I could really love. In your terms, a weyrmate, minus the weyr."

"Weyrmate," says Z'vind roughly, his voice coarsened by wine and content of their speech. "I don't have a weyrmate yet," and he shakes his head, shaking off thought. Bitterly, to Sienna: "Do you think you can find someone like that?"

Sienna says "Im not sure. If so, then I consider myself one of the lucky few. If not, Im willing to pine away for the rest of my days waiting for the right fellow to come along. Rather wait for true love than deal with flawed love." She squints at you, noting your bitter tone. "I've learned my lesson. I've dealt with flawed love. It is a destructive force, and it can kill a person inside." Again, she pauses, considering the deepness of her words. "Does that make any sense?"

Z'vind lets his mask slip for a second or two, allowing shock into the squareness of jaw and steeled hands slung about the chair. "Ha! There's no such difference as true love or flawed love." The word holds distaste in itself, and he spits it out. "Love? But dragons have true affection, that is true." He ripples a shrug across his shoulders, then eyes her. "Makes /some/ sense, not much."

Z'vind turns a moment to the ground. "Kealath, yes, I know, I know." Blink. "Oh, I'm sorry about that."

Sienna regards you with an equally steelly expression. This softens, however, and she speaks in a gentle tone... "Some of us are not so lucky, as to have the love of such. Us normal folk have to settle for flawed love, normally. I ..did not mean to spark a harmful memory." She pulls a chair up, and leans against you, hoping her prescence is comforting. "I think that if humans spent more time searching out regular contact, as opposed to sexual contact..we'd all have an easier time of things."

Z'vind isn't sure how to take this, and simply looks down at the young woman with a face made blank. "What type of regular contact?" he has to ask, all wit fled.

Sienna shrugs, not quite knowing herself. "I suppose I mean that there's other contact than sexual. A simple touch. A gesture, a look. It doesn't always have to be about gratification."

Sienna says "And," she continues, carefully, words a bit slurred from the drink. "I am not as righteous as I am sounding right now. Its just that most men repulse me these days, after Lenod. We were betrothed, you know. Everyone knew he was dallying with the other girls, but noone told." She rests her head against your shoulder now, this rare show of affection inspired by bittersweet memories.

Z'vind frowns, eyebrows held aloft in puzzlement. "How do you know this?" He takes a breath, then smiles. Ahh, such innocence is rarely seen, in this one. "Your Lenod sounds like a dimglow. I haven't even heard of him before this." One of the more obscure ones, most probably.

Sienna says "How do I know it?" She glances at you again. "I died that day, or thought I did. I *loved* Lenod!" She sits up again, regarding you as one might a deadly asp, wondering if you have any idea what stock she places in that word.Love. "And yes, he was a nobody, but he was my nobody. And I loved him."

Z'vind pauses, eyes terribly grey and wide in his boned features. He says slowly, "If love means the feeling you get during Impression, yes, I do know you mean. And yeah, I can see you -- loved him." Honesty comes hesitantly to him, and he watches Sienna closely. "I have loved too, you know."

Sienna says "Ay, I could tell. And again, ye are lucky to have that feeling, to have that lifemate. To me, and this is going to sound grotesquely simpleminded, love as a feeling can be described simply as...being free, yet having the ability to feel that freedom right alongside someone else. That feeling of pure, throbbing exhileration."

Err.."Silly I guess.." She mumbles in embarassment.

Z'vind laughs lightly, at the fist he holds to his eyes. "Oh, no, Sienna, I didn't mean that. I have this girl in Igen, you see, and she's the prettiest lass I've ever seen." Admiration clouds his voice, "I would really like to be with her." He stops, unexpectedly, then nods. "Definitely. Very good to - be with, you know."

Z'vind swallows. "You can keep your silliness."

Sienna shrugs her shoulders. "Im glad for you. Really. You're a lucky fellow." She smiles, no trace of any emotion in her features, except for blank acceptance.

Z'vind raises his face to smile at the scattered folk still littering the caverns at this midnight hour. A trio of riders stumbles in, recently come from late sweeps, and he lowers his voice to Sienna. "Yeah--" Reluctantly. And he leans across to grip her shoulder. "Hey, it's nothing, you know." Embarrassment, though rare, does visit him.

Sienna blinks at you, looking slightly confused. "Er..uhm.." She clears her throat. "Yes, nothing." She gives you an odd look, not understanding you at all.

Z'vind is not easily understood. "Well, I should be heading back to my weyr." Cold and lonely place and that kind of thing notwithstanding. He slants a grin at her, rising to his feet. "Can you get back alright? Dorms?"

Sienna glances about, looking at the few people left in the cavern. She rises to her own feet, a silly grin on her face. "Maybe. Maybe not.. " She glances about, room spinning, not sure *exactly* which direction the Dormitories are in.

Sienna says "If you ever need comfort in your weyr, ill sew you a tapestry." She grins at you. "An erotic one." Nods and winks, and sticks her tongue out--to show that she was only teasing."

"Yes, Kealath--" Zar voices part of that conversation constantly going on within, and offers his hand, sliding the tease off with indulgence's smile. "But it would make a good picture. For flights, especially," he ponders as well.

Sienna places her hand in yours, a matching smile on her lips. "That it would..that it would."

So Z'vind leads Sienna hence, to the dorms, and himself to return to his weyr. Decently, that is.