Meadow Musings

Xanadu Weyr - Meadow
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of weyrs, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves.

Runner stables with the paddock beyond are to the south beyond the meadow weyrs, a smithy and a woodcraft shop are settled closer in towards the path to the clearing, while trees border the western edge of the meadow, and a faint outline of a stone wall and low rolling hills can be seen to the north. Wagons laden with felled trees from the forests to the southwest or ore from the mountains to the southeast are hauled by burden beast up the road through the meadow, over the bridge spanning the river to be processed in the appropriate workshops.

The afternoon draws on, hot and, well. Hot. Really hot. Near the stables, sitting in the building's shade, is Muir. The boy is dressed in loose pants, sandals, and an open dark blue tunic that exposes his chest. Eating an apple, the boy has his eyes shaded by a wide brimmed hat, and looks like he's about to just doze off into oblivion.

From the way of the garden, Marel wanders through with an armful of flowers, all simple, pastel-coloured blossoms; tiny flowers and long, delicate stems. Perhaps she has a Muir radar after so many turns, or perhaps she just seeks the same shade and respite from the heat of the high sun, for her steps carry her towards the stable and the shade it casts. "Have you been working in there?" she asks as she sits down in the grass, no warning of her approach but her footsteps. The flowers get set down beside her, one selected and a slit in its stem made with the nail of her thumb.

Today: hot, so hot, or too hot? The correct answer is d: all of the above. Soriana emerges from her mother's weyr with a dubious look for the sun. Why's it got to be so hot? Draped over one shoulder is her tunnelcat, but in this heat, even the ferret seems to have taken to the lazy option, and he's just hangin' out. She crosses toward the stable, giving a wave to the two in its shade before going to the door and peeking in. Hmm.

Muir opens his brown eyes at the footsteps of another, knowing before he's even looked that it's his sister. "Nope," he says, with a wry, crooked grin on his lips. Reaching out, he tries to steal a flower from the bunch with the hand not holding the half eaten apple. "How's the job in the flower shop? You liking it?" He sits up a bit when Soriana approaches, giving her a nod and smile. "Hey, sorry we didn't have breakfast the other morning. My errand took longer than I thought it would…"

Marel frowns when that flower is stolen, but she permits /one/ to go walkabout, with a warning look that says plainly that it had better be returned in same state that it was claimed. "It's interesting," she replies, making to thread a flower of a slightly different shade through the stem of the first. "But some customers are rude if you can't get them exactly what they want right away." She glances up at Soriana's approach; doesn't wave, but gives a polite nod as her gaze follows her to the stable's door with poorly-hidden curiosity.

Her peek unsuccessful (to judge by the brief frown), Soriana returns her attention to the out of doors part of the day. Muir's comment seems to take her by surprise. "Oh! Uh…" Her expression turns to a weird cross of apology and grin. "I didn't make it either." Apology gains prominence for a moment as she adds, "…poor Tazemi," but then the grin is back in force. "I ran into Kale. We talked. We're back together again."

Muir takes the flower and twirls it gently between his fingers, before looking curiously at what his twin is doing. "Making a…hair thing?" he asks, swirling his apple-hand around his own head. "Who's rude to you?" he asks a moment later, sitting up a bit as if he's going to go find these people and smack them for being rude to his sister over flowers. Hardly a dueling offense, but Muir is his father's son. Looking back at Soriana, the boy has started to lift the flower until she speaks. Then it lowers, and he sets it back into the bouquet, casually tucking it in. "Oh. Well, no more moping then?" he asks, grin crooked.

"Crown," Marel corrects absently, starting to build up the chain with more of the prettily-simple flowers. "And oh, they're not /awfully/ rude," she says hastily. "Maybe I'm just not used to having people ask me to get them things and find this and find that…" She waves it all off dismissively, hoping to placate and still her brother with so few words. After adding the latest flower, she lifts her attention back to Soriana, something complicated passing across her features as she processes all the little bits of the puzzle she's found recently. "Moping?" she echoes.

Soriana watches the progress of that flower, and smiles. "Not a bit of moping," she agrees, and settles herself down into the shade and glances to Marel's flower-basket again. "I've still got the one you gave me," she notes to Muir casually. Just sayin'. "It's in a little vase." Which is technically her mother's, because if it was up to Sori's own supplies, it'd likely be stuck in a test vial. As she settles against the wall, the tunnelcat, Inkfoot, lifts his head and chirps to the pair, then droops himself down again to rest. Soriana nods to Marel. "Yeah, uh… I kinda took it hard when we were apart." Her gaze turns away, out across the meadow, and after a moment she adds, "So did he."

Muir shifts his weight and eyes his twin, trying to see the truth. In the end, he settles back against the stable wall. "Yeah, well. Let me know if any of 'em get real rude." He'll…throw thorns at them or something. Looking back at Soriana, the teen quirks another crooked grin. "Good, I worked hard for that flower. I took some to mom the other day," he says to his twin. "We talked." And back to Soriana, "Yeah? That's good, then, that you're back together. Happy is better than unhappy, and he seems like a cool guy." Inkfoot gets his attention next. "He's an odd looking little thing, what is he?"

Beginning to add a second row of flowers just slightly out of line with the first, Marel assures, "I will…" in the nice, light, distracted way of one who has plans of doing nothing of the sort. She arches a querying brow his way, though doesn't ask after his conversation with their mother just now, content with making it known that she wishes to be made aware of some of the details at some point. "Did he say sorry?" she asks of Soriana, her question a little abrupt, with no clear reason as to why she wants to know. She lets her twin ask after the tunnelcat, her only, somewhat wary, interest dependent upon his likelihood to run down Soriana and closer to her.

Thorns are vicious. Soriana smiles at the sibling protectiveness, but doesn't say a word about it. She returns the grin to Muir, and nods. "So you did." There's another smile over his report to Marel, and then she nods again. "Yeah. Happy's definitely better than unhappy." There's a quirk of her mouth for saying obvious truth, then she glances to Marel. Her head tilts, curious, but all she says is, "Yeah, he did." She regards the other girl thoughtfully for a moment, then returns her attention to Muir's other question. "Finest tunnelcat ever, that's what," she says, and reaches up to ruffle the ferret and give him a tug down into her lap. He tumbles there and dooks complainingly, shaking his head a little and peering up before… sprawling out again. With the heat (and his advancing age) he seems to be playing lazy beastie today. "Y'mighta heard the story of how he fought a wild feline and won."

Muir eyes his sister. She won't, and he knows it. So maybe he'll just have to drop by the flower shop from time to time. Won't that be fun? Turning his attention briefly to his apple, the boy adjusts his hat and takes a few more bites while the girls talk, and he watches the tunnelcat. "Haven't, no," he admits.

"Good," Marel declares with subtle, almost haughty, approval. She pauses in her flower-weaving to look up properly and give the other girl her full attention, hands now only holding the unfinished crown or loop together. "You must be Soriana." So she's deduced. "I know Kale, that's all," she says quickly, in-case she should look to be a purveyor of gossip or some such. "I'm Marel," she quirks a quick half-smile and glances back at Muir, "in-case this one hasn't said as much." As for the wild feline story, she can't help but look a bit dubious, but she looks back down to her work in an attempt to hide it.

Soriana arches one brow in increased question at Marel's approval, though it's with a bit of a smile as well, and then she nods. "Course." Not like they haven't run into each other before, what with both having mothers buried back in the admin offices. Now that's taken care of, she returns to the tunnelcat story. "Well, he did." Such grand storytelling. "In the ruins, back… oh, like three turns ago. Though, it was kind of mangy, and probably sick with something. So it's not like I'd go matching him up against random wildcats and hoping for the best." She grins, and ruffles the creature's fur fondly before adding to Marel, "You can ask Esiae or Jessi. They were there."

Muir glances at his sister and then back at Soriana, clearing his throat. "Uh, yeah, sorry…" He missed those introductions. Hasn't taken long for him to forget his Holder lessons, it seems. Or he could blame it on the heat. Finishing the apple, he looks around and then tosses it into the paddock where a runner lips it up happily. Leaning back all the more, the teen slouches and crosses his hands over his bare chest, sticking his feet out in a lazy stretch. "I believe you," he says to Soriana, grin crooked once more. "Protecting you, huh?" he adds, glancing at the tunnelcat. "Hey, Marel, I heard someone say they saw a clutch of firelizard eggs down on the beach. We should go check them out later, yeah? You have firelizards, Soriana?"

"S'all right," Marel drawls over at her twin. "I'm such a tiny, easily-missed and forgotten about part of your life after all…" she teases with as straight a face as she can manage, which is to say, not much of one. She nods in the same polite, trying to play along manner as she spoke to Muir with earlier when she tries to assure Soriana that she believe her, when it might well be just as plain that she's not buying it, true or otherwise. "I'm sure he was very brave." At least she's not patronising with it; as genuine as she possibly can be whilst not wanting to outright argue. Her poor flowers are already beginning to wilt, even the shade, and so she sighs and begins to gather them up again, a temporary knot tied in the loop. "I'd better do this in the shop. I was thinking of drying them, but /really/…" She clambers back to her feet, brushing her skirts off. "Come and get me from the shop before you go to the beach, huh?" Put to her brother, then she has a small smile and a wave of an elbow (her hands being full) for Soriana, before she's heading back across the meadow, back to work.

Soriana laughs at Marel's teasing of Muir. "Well, it's not like he introduced his left knee to me, either," she notes. "Perhaps you're just too important!" Totally a thing, and then she's glancing back to Muir and tunnelcat tales. "Yup," she agrees to him as she pets the protective critter who's currently protecting his spot on the lap. She just smiles to Marel, and if it's a bit crooked… well, she knows it's a crazy sounding story. Even if it is true. "That's where I got my first firelizard. A drudge'd stolen a basket, and we went looking through the ruins for it." She hmms at the mention of firelizard eggs on the beach. "It's too cold for them usually, but…" she peers up at the sky again. "This summer, I'd believe it." She shakes her head a little, then hehs to Marel. "See you later," she says with a wave, then nods to Muir. "Brown and gold. If there aren't some on the beach, Haruhi's bound to rise eventually. She makes enough of a fuss when anyone else does, she'd better rise."

Muir rolls his eyes and gives his sister a nudge with his elbow. "Yeah, right." She should know she's the most important thing in his life right now. Other than doing as little as possible. "Yeah, I will," he promises, watching her go and adjusting his hat once again, and then scratching at his chest. "You've got a gold?" he asks, perking up a bit. "Does a bronze usually fly her?"

Soriana watches the departing Marel, then returns her attention to Muir and to petting Inkfoot. "Yeah, I've got a gold," she says with a smile. "She hasn't actually risen yet, she's only about a turn old. Knowing her, though… she'll probably be bronzes all the way." A smirk. "At least she's been enjoying the heat. Basking on top of the hatching dome all day."

Muir glances in that direction, chuckling. "Isn't it interesting how dragons seem comfortable no matter what the weather? Cold, hot…it's all the same. Meanwhile I'm melting." He adjusts his hat, pushing some of his wavy brown hair beneath the brim and off of his forehead. "Might go for a swim later…"

"Well, some of that is they've got a different circulatory system. It's more efficient at spreading heat and radiating it. Probably because they need it for between." So says the voice of a dragonhealer that's been studying this. "I've heard of 'em complaining about cold, though, when it lasts too long or they're hurt. Heat, though…" Soriana laughs. "No such thing as too much heat. Least not if you're a dragon. Me… the worst of it is during my shifts, because the Annex is right up against the sands. All the extra heat from the sands, we get it."

Oh, right, she's a dragonhealer. Muir nods, and then grimaces. "Ugh. How do you stay cool in there? Just suffer through it? Can you not take your work elsewhere?"

"Mostly just suffer through it. Lots of iced klah." Soriana grins a bit, then goes on. "If it's quiet enough, sometimes we take chairs and sit outside, but usually that means the grade four and fives sit outside and I'm in there scrubbing something or other." She shrugs a bit. "Some of it can be done elsewhere, but if an injured dragon comes in, you kinda need to have the sterile environment and supplies ready."

Muir nods, "Well, yeah. Do you get that often? Injured dragons?" the boy asks, pushing his hat back again and watching her (and the tunnelcat) out of the corner of his eyes. "And hey, can I ask you something else?" And it must be important, because he sits up a bit.

"All the time, but it's usually minor stuff," says Soriana. She pets the ferret slowly as she talks. "Like, chipped claws, scratches… sprained muscles and bruises. Anything really bad ends up going to Ierne, not here, but there's generally something that needs stitches every sevenday or so." Her head tilts to the side, curious. "Yeah, sure. Anything y'like."

Muir nods, looking thoughtful for a moment. Then the teen clears his throat and scratches an itch on his chest. The two of them are sitting in the shade of the stable wall, and Muir's tunic is open in the heat of the summer afternoon. "How'd you get to be a dragonhealer? I mean, how'd you know that's what you wanted?"

Soriana hehs, and she's silent for a moment, tracing her fingers down Inkfoot's back from head to tailtip. "I spent a long time not knowing. But then… when Yumeth had her clutch, and things started going wrong, it felt… pretty terrible, and I wanted to do something. I wanted to make a difference. I mean, there's lots of things I've wanted to do, but… I dunno, it seemed to fit."

Muir remembers that time, and the boy winces for the memory of it. "Yeah," he says, looking sympathetic as he can only imagine how Soriana must have felt. He can imagine how he would've felt, were it Seryth's clutch that was affected. "You are making a difference," he adds, with a little smile as he leans back against the stable wall again. "I'm sure lots of dragons owe their healing to your kind heart and gentle hands."

It's quitting time! Datsun the Journeyman Woodcrafter comes out of the Woodcraft Shop, brushing off as much as wood chips as he can. Succeeding in getting the majority off, there's still a few left on his tunic, and it's those he picks at. The miscreant chips are dropped one by one as he pulls them off, leaving behind a little intermittent trail then it's his hair that gets a thorough tousling to get the tiny unseen ones out. He does all of this while walking, veering towards the Stables but not on purpose.

"Sure I am," says Soriana with a smile, pulling her thoughts back from the not so good of that time. "Though you can only be so gentle when you're jabbing a needle into someone. That's what we've got numbweed for." She grins. "It's good, though. A lot of studying, a lot of practicing, a lot of scrubbing things and boiling bandages, but… I like it. I'm willing to keep doing it, not like… well, beastcraft, say." Since they're against the stable and all. "I like animals, but I wouldn't want to do that every single day." She shrugs a little, then glances up to see the wobbling woodcrafter, chuckling a bit. "And woodcraft, well!" she says in a somewhat louder tone, smirking teasingly.

Muir nods, and since he has nothing with which to occupy his fingers, he laces them together to rest over his stomach. "That's the key then, I guess. What do you want to do every day." Thoughtful, he's distracted by Datsun's arrival, and the boy sits up with a slight frown. He says no verbal greeting to the Woodcrafter, but instead simply nods his head in a silent hello.

Datsun gives his head one final shake as he suddenly stops after almost walking into the side of the Stables, blinking at where he is. Hearing him being addressed, Soriana and Muir are spotted, "Oh, hello there." He grins at Soriana, "Dragonhealer. You'll be glad to hear that I've been using these new electric saws, but man, they get wood /everywhere/. I think I even have some in my underwear." His hair's hastily combed through by a hand, noting Muir. "Hey, it's the tree-dweller. I never did thank you for climbing up to check for Ash. Thanks for that."

Soriana nods to Muir. "Yeah. Anything you pick, it's gonna have bad parts, but… you've got to find the thing you'll keep wanting to come back to." And then there's a Datsun before her, and she laughs. "I'd rather not find that one out. But, if I find random woodchips somewhere, at least I'll know it's because the saw sent them betweening around."

Muir frowns faintly, but then pushes it aside for a crooked grin for the Woodcrafter. "No problem, how's he doing?" And then he peers curiously towards the shop. "Electric saw?" And if he shifts a bit uncomfortably at the thought of sawdust in his underwear, well…can't really blame him.

"Well, I'll find out once I sit down." Datsun answers with a joke, "It's pretty fun, I always had my Apprentices do it for me before. I think I'm going to use it more now." Then it's to Muir, "Yeah, there's a motor that spins the saw around at a high speed and cuts through wood like… well, butter." There's a grin for that cliche. "So what brings you two here to the stables?" He moves to sit besides Soriana.

"Good luck," says Soriana with a smirk. Yay stabby woodbits! Oh wait. Not actually yay. She nevertheless grins, because they're not stabbing her. "There's shade," she tells Datsun, pointing back at the building. "And it's hot today. I figured I'd bring Inkfoot out for a run, but…" lazy tunnelcat is lazy. She pets him.

Muir ahhs, nodding and casting one more curious glance towards the shop, before he adjusts his hat again. "Yeah, the shade," he agrees with a nod. "Nice place to just sit for a while. Never know who you're going to run into."

Datsun finally notices the lazy tunnelcat, "It's Inkfoot. Haven't seen him in a while." A hand reaches out to pet the lazy tunnelcat too, "Speaking of tunnelcats, I got a response from the Beastcraft Hall. They said they didn't think it was a good idea for a tunnelcat and a gryphhawk to hunt together. At least we know now." Settling into his seat, he reports, "No woodchips in my underwear. That's true, Muir. How did the Smithcraft go?"

Soriana hehs to Muir. "Sure don't," she agrees, and takes a slow glance around, as if surveying the meadow to check for other possible arrivals. Inkfoot lifts up his head and dooks cheerfully, then streeetches and settles down again. Soriana nods. "Fair enough, that." She looks down at the ferret. "You'll just have to keep hunting with Toral instead." He chirps. Presumably that's agreement.

Muir glances between the two of them and then shrugs at Datsun. "Went fine, thanks." He looks at Soriana again, and then pushes himself to his feet. "Well, I think I should go for that swim. Was nice talking to you, Anna. Datsun, good luck with the underwear thing." Grin crooked, the teen tips his hat and turns to stroll off towards the sea.

Datsun leans back against the wall as he pets Inkfoot, smiling at the little ferret. "Inkfoot's lucky. He doesn't have people expecting things from him besides hunting." When Muir gets up and leaves, there's a wave sent after the boy, "See you, Muir." Watching the younger teen head off, he comments, "I get the feeling he doesn't like me much."

"Hah. There's plenty you can expect from a tunnelcat," says Soriana with a slight grin, then tilts her head in an almost-question to Datsun before glancing up to Muir and smiling. "Have fun! Maybe I'll come by later." Right now, though… it involves moving, so she just waves to him as he heads off before turning her attention back to Datsun and raising an eyebrow. "Oh? And why do you think that?"

"Like what? I don't know them well enough." asks Datsun, curious about the animal, giving Inkfoot one last rub before plucking a tall blade of grass to pull it apart fiber by fiber. "Don't really know. Just a feeling. I noticed he frowned a bit when I showed up. Anyway, been up to anything new?"

"Cuteness, for one," says Soriana with a grin, then returns to a more serious tone. "They're social creatures, they've just got sorta different body language than most." At Datsun's comment on Muir, she looks again to where he departed, then shrugs. "Ah, me?" She considers on the question for a moment, then slowly shakes her head. "Mostly just been working." She hehs. "Should do something to get out, I guess."

Datsun tilts his head sideways, regarding Inkfoot, "I'll give you that. That's one thing Ash can't do." There's a nod for the next bit, "Ditto. I've only been in the forest once since we went. I heard from someone here that there are ruins out there?" He queries, looking at Soriana. "Know anything about what happened there? I'd like to hear the story if there's one."

Soriana pets her fingers over Inkfoot's back again, and recieves a chirp (and, yes, a snuggle) in return. "About the ruins?" she says. "I've been there. They're old. Like, practically from the Ancients, is what I heard. I dunno if anybody knows much more than that about them, though."

Datsun raises an eyebrow, his interest intrigued. "From the Ancients? Hmm…" There's a thoughtful look, "Want to go soon? I bet there's plenty of game there too. Ruins give a lot of cover for all kinds of animals. You've seen Ash hunt but I haven't seen Inkfoot hunt yet. He could show off his skills."

"I've already been planning a trip there," says Soriana. Or she was, but then she forgot about it for a bit. Thank you, reminders! "Derin's going to take us." She pauses a moment, and raises a brow. "They're a pretty dangerous place. There's been cave-ins there before, and wild felines living there. If you're planning to go on your own, y'should be careful… or I can let you know when we're going. It'll be at night, so Dersk can come."

"Oh, you have? Then it's my lucky day." chuckles Datsun, tilting his head, "Us? Are there others coming along as well?" The mention of Dersk has him wondering, "Are we riding the watchwher? That should be interesting…" Hey, he's from a Hold, he doesn't have any clue if watchwhers can be ridden or not. "I'd rather not chance a feline, not after what I've seen them do to people here in the South." There's a shake of his head from the Northerner, "Ah, if it's at night, then Inkfoot probably won't hunt, will he?"

"Yeah, well, Mikal hasn't seen them, and Rissa could use a distraction, and…" there may have been one or two or ten other people. Soriana grins. "Anyway, it should be fun. And we're not going to ride Dersk, but he and Derin do search and rescue underground, so I figure it's about the safest way to do it, having them along." And watching a half-dozen teens. They've got eyes in the back of their heads, right? They'd better. "Hah. Nah, tunnelcats are actually nocturnal. They're not like whers, they don't mind daylight, but he'll probably be more awake than we are."

Datsun pulls apart the last fiber from the grass, tossing it away and bringing his knees up to rest his elbows on them with his hands hanging down. "Since you've already been there, I'll follow what you say. Better safe than sorry." Though he's not too thrilled about having a chaperone along, but he won't put up a protest. "Really? Huh. You could bring him along, but I don't know if we'd even see anything happening in the dark."

"Last time I was there, I fell down a sinkhole and got attacked by a wild feline," says Soriana. Not that she focused on those part when she told her mother about the trip, and not that she isn't grinning now as she reports it. "It is pretty neat, though. Worth the visit." Just don't break your neck.

Datsun blinks, raising an eyebrow at Soriana. "Shells. What happened? How'd you escape?" Now he's looking at any visible parts of Soriana's skin to see if there are any scars or signs that she's had a tussle with a feline. "And you're willing to go back there even though you were attacked?" It seems his impression of Soriana just went up a notch.

"Zan and Inkfoot managed to kill it," says Soriana, her tone matter of fact. "It looked like it was already sick with something, anyway." She shrugs a little, then gives the ferret another pet. "Of course I'm willing to go back. I mean, that's why I'm learning self defense, so I can handle things going wrong."

"Inkfoot?" There's a look from Datsun at the tunnelcat. "Was it a small feline, then?" Somehow he doesn't think the tunnelcat can take on a full-size feline that's half the size of a runner. "Ah, yeah, that would help your side. How far along are you with your self defense?"

"'Bout canine sized," Soriana says. "One of the rangy canines, the ones they use for hunting deer." She grins a little. "Yeah, I know. One of the things about tunnelcats is, they don't really understand the concept of fear. Gets 'em into trouble sometimes." She ruffles at Inkfoot's shoulders, and he sleepy-dooks. She mmhs at the question. "I dunno, I mean… not yet a guard, better than nothing?"

"Oh, okay." Now Datsun has a better idea about the size, "They don't? Sounds like they're pretty self-confident." Then it's to Soriana's defense, "Haven't practiced recently, eh? Don't blame you. It's hard to want to do anything that involves a lot of effort when it's this hot." A general wave is thrown at the air, peering out towards the sea, reminding him of something. "I was out at the docks a few days ago. I noticed it was made out of hard plastic. It was weird, didn't like how it sounded when you walked on it. But it made me think that if they can replace wood with plastic for the docks, then what else will they replace? The Woodcraft might not be needed at Xanadu anymore in the future." There's a depressing thought for the Journeyman.

Soriana grins with half of her mouth. "Nah. It's just, I only show up at a few trainings a sevenday anyhow. Mostly the morning ones, so the heat isn't so bad, but my shift's against them some days, so I end up missing those. All the actual guards in the class go on past me at a zoom, because they've got more time to work on this stuff, so…" She trails off into a shrug, then tilts her head to Datsun curiously. "Ah, there'll be something, I'm sure. I mean… heh. That's funny. In a way, Woodcraft's all new technology. Back during the Passes, there were hardly any trees." She smiles at that thought for a moment, then shakes her head. "You'll find something."

"So everyone's more advanced than you in the trainings? It'd be hard to keep up with them, then. Why not ask the instructor for one-on-one training?" Datsun suggests, tilting his head sideways to look at Soriana, blinking at her words. There's a chuckle before he's nodding in agreement with her, "You're right, actually. I never thought of the Woodcraft as new technology, but it is. Forests are all over Pern now." He knows because he's seen them. "So even if Xanadu won't need us anymore, the rest of Pern will. Someone's got to manage all that wood and turn them into something, after all."

Soriana laughs to Datsun. "Because I don't have time, that's why." She shrugs. "If I had time to train as much as they do, I'd have time to keep up with them. I don't, so that's why I just keep going back to the ones for the recruits when they move on to more advanced lessons." She pauses a moment, then hmms. "Actually, I'm mostly with the first years now, so that's something." She shrugs, then nods, smiling to him. "I don't think Xanadu'll be done with woodcraft anytime soon, anyhow. Plastic doesn't make chairs nearly as comfy."

"Do they get enough recruits to maintain the beginner trainings, though? Now that that killer hasn't shown himself for a while? There seems to be less guards than there were before." Datsun's talking about Laris. "Oh, they train for years? That makes more sense." There's a nod, smiling at Soriana's words for his Craft. "Doesn't seem to warm up as quickly as wood does, either. Yeah, I think my Craft'll be okay here."

"Yeah, there's definitely less guards, but they still get new ones now and then. Besides, a lot of it is the same training, they just pair people up differently depending on how good they are. Stuff like sparring, everyone does better for practicing it. That and laps!" Not that she doesn't avoid doing the laps sometimes with the excuse of 'not actually a guard'. Still! She grins a bit, and nods about his craft, then stretches. "I'd better get this lazybutt back before dinnertime," she says, ruffling down at Inkfoot. "I've got another night shift."

Datsun nods, crossing his arms on his knees and setting his chin on top of a forearm, "That's a lot of activity. I'm glad I'm not a guard. I don't think I'd handle laps too well." He grins at Soriana, "Alright, good luck with your night shift. I was on my way to grab a bite, anyway." The Crafter pushes himself up to his feet, brushing off debris. "See you around, busybody."

Soriana scoops up Inkfoot, and drapes him over her shoulder as he chirps about being disturbed. "Laps are the worst," she agrees with a grin. "Makes me glad I'm not a guard either. I can stop any time I want to." She rises up, and nods. "Thanks. Good luck with finding all your woodchips!" A wave, and she's off!

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