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Xanadu Weyr - Clock Tower - Dragon's Ledge

This is a simple ledge, built of the same stone that comprises the clock tower itself. It's large enough for one dragon to stretch out on, and has railings along two sides—the sides perpendicular to the tower. The farthest edge is left railingless for ease in takeoff and landing, and the tower frames the other edge. Underneath the ledge, a pair of shelf supports that protrude from the clock tower wall itself supports the ledge, so it's quite safe for dragon and human alike. Where weight is concerned, it could probably hold a pair of queens. Of course, the ledge isn't nearly big enough.

There's a human-sized door on the tower's wall where a human can venture out onto the ledge if he or she so chooses. Seems this ledge isn't just for dragons. There's only two ways off this ledge, the door in the wall…or straight down. The door would be a far less dangerous way to leave, however…since this ledge is three and a half stories up!

More fog. Where is this fog coming from? And why does it linger? Perhaps in the hopes of escaping its grasp, Muir has headed for the clock tower and climbed the stairs to sit on the edge of the ledge, legs dangling fearlessly over the three story drop. The fog curls around up here as well, though it's a bit thinner so there are things peaking up out of the undulating carpet of cottony wisps in the distance. Legs swinging, the boy peers into the distance, lost in thought while Kenpo prowls along the railings, testing his balance and daring.

Out of the fog pops a little brown firelizard, likely recognisable to Muir as Brier, only a moment later, he brings company, for a young blue appears just off to one side. Once both have got the measure of what they've journeyed to and established just who is about, they vanish again, with only a parting whistle from Brier. It takes a little while, but Marel soon appears, the young firelizards clinging to her shoulders, her approach wordless and without intent to draw attention. She simply heads across to her twin and sits down beside him, likewise dangling her legs over the edge of the ledge.

Muir blinks in surprise at the blue, and he waits expectantly for his sister's arrival. "When'd you get that one?" he asks, a frown deepening and creasing his brows as he eyes the blue suspiciously, and then looks to her. Lifting a hand, he pushes back hair that's grown a tad too long as Kenpo hops down from the railing and chirps to his sibling, and then eyes the blue with as much suspicion as his mate.

"A few days ago," Marel replies, not half as concerned as Muir, but then, she has little reason to be. A twitch of her shoulders encourages brown and blue to go and investigate the ledge, Kenpo's greeting returned by Brier as he ventures off to explore. The blue? Well, he's oblivious to any study. "He's called Flynn," she adds. "And don't ask me why; I just looked at him and he /looked/ like a Flynn." Sighing, she looks out across the horizon and swings her legs a bit, before asking, "Why're you up here?"

Muir frowns, shaking his head slowly. "I don't like it when I don't know what you're up to," he admits, the words out before he can really think about them. He shakes his head more firmly and looks out across the rolling hills of fog. "Trying…I dunno. To see? This fog's driving me mad. Like I can't think straight or something." He shrugs again, legs swinging, peering down at the tips of his boots weaving back and forth in the void of space.

Silently, Marel lifts a hand and reaches towards Muir, wordlessly offering an apology or reassurance by trying to hold his hand in hers, in this moment where no-one can see them and make fun of them for it. "…Some of us touched the eggs again today," she murmurs, staring out at the view, her eyes going distant. "…There was one… it was /frightening/ and alone and awful and…" And then… "There was another one… that /knew/ everything. Everything we— I mean, did you touch that one? Did it remember? Did you tell it anything?" He must know which one. He /must/.

Muir curls his hand around hers automatically, and gratefully, and it spasms in her grasp when she begins to ask about the eggs. And then his grip tightens almost painfully as his head whips around to stare at her, eyes widening. "/Yes/," he says, a gasped whisper. "It…it /knew/. It knew you, too? It knew everything. Cold Stone, and Uncle Tharen, and how he went there to get us free…it…I hated it," he whispers harshly, shaking his head firmly. "I…I asked it some things. I asked if it'd talked to you. But…I think I touched it first. And it still knew. I didn't…/tell/ it anything, it just knew."

Marel likewise tightens her grip on her twin's hand, hanging on like she'll never let go. "Does that… Does that mean all the eggs we touched now have dragons that know everything about us?" she asks fearfully. "Do they remember everything? Or is it just that one that was…" Discomfiting. Worrying. Troubling. "Does it mean that one's meant for both of us and one of us will be left," she can barely manage the last word, forcing it out in a hushed whisper, "alone?"

Muir shakes his head slowly, and then exhales sharply as his thoughts tumble around chaotically in his head. "I don't know. I don't think so. I don't…I don't think so. Mikal was telling me there was an egg at Fort that he really loved and really loved him, but it hatched and the dragon didn't go to him. I don't think it's…I don't think the eggs are the dragons. Not yet. It's like…they're not even babies yet. And real dragons can't remember anything anyway, so. I don't know." Then his frown deepens and he shakes his head again, agitated and turning to look at her sharply, brown eyes brimming with emotions that shift through so rapidly they're impossible to pin down. "No," he says firmly. "No matter what happens we won't be alone. And I don't think that's our egg, either. It was too…" Creepy and unnerving.

"B-But what is it then? If it's not really a dragon yet. Is it someone playing a trick?" Having kept her cool for most of the day, it's only now that how rattled Marel is begins to seep through and start to take her over, much like it did during her encounter with that egg that they speak so worriedly about. "I watched some of the other Candidates and that didn't seem to be happening to /them/." If she gripped his hand any tighter, she'd be in danger of doing some serious damage, and so she lets up a little and inches over to sit closer, meaning to rest her head on his shoulder. "Even if it was /horrible/ at the time, it was… knowing someone but us /knew/ was…" She can't put it into words. "Whatever happens, I still don't know how I'll feel if it finds someone else."

Muir shakes his head again, "No, maybe…I don't know. They all were different, maybe that's the story…that one has? I mean another one took me under water, so. Maybe…maybe it's just coincidence?" His hope is hollow though, since he doesn't believe that for a moment. But. "Mom wouldn't be talking to the eggs, would she?" When his twin shifts he does too, letting go of her hand so he can loop his arm tightly around her shoulders, his other hand reaching for hers. "So you'd want that dragon? Even with what it…knows, maybe? Maybe knows?"

Marel surrenders her other hand to him and loops her arm around his waist, safe in the company of the person who's been by her side for most of, if not her whole life. "Do you think she would? Or maybe /everyone/ knows and they're just too polite to talk to us about it." That, to her, must be an awful thought, for her features drain of colour, leaving her looking a sickly off-white. "I don't know what I want," she has to confess, voice soft. "…I just don't want it /knowing/ all that and finding someone not you or me. What if /does/ remember and /tells/?" She breathes out a sharp sigh, clearly becoming frustrated with the circles her thoughts keep winding in. "Maybe it's a trick." Desperation.

Muir shakes his head, giving her a squeeze. He'll keep her safe, at all costs. It's an iron clad knowledge that he holds tightly - one that he's never had the need to verbalize. "I don't think she would. I don't think everyone knows, no. Not…not the /emotion/ that goes with it all. The egg had the feelings. Others…I don't even think they care any more, Marel. There's other stuff they want to talk about." He's thoughtful for a moment, quiet and frowning. "It won't tell. When it impresses - whoever it impresses to - why would it want to talk about us? It's going to want to be with its new rider. Thinking about that stuff, not our stuff."

"I guess you're right," Marel murmurs, closing her eyes. "If just touching the eggs is like this, what could Impression be like? I just… I wanted to run away from half the eggs I touched. They knew too much or found things I didn't want them to. And you can't run away from your /dragon/." Another breath, trying to steady the trembling that might start at the shiver that runs up her spine. "What if you Impress and spend the rest of your life arguing with them?" Perhaps all those questions are rhetorical, for she doesn't dwell on them too much beyond what she obviously already /is/, and opens her eyes, lifting her gaze to her twin's. "Want to go get dinner? I think if I think about this anymore today, I'll end up wondering if I should give the knot back."

Muir shakes his head once more, resting his cheek on her hair. "I did too," he admits. "Some of them were so pushy and…demanding. Wanting to know about me and questioning me. But impression isn't like that. I don't think. They wouldn't pick you if you were going to fight. I haven't met any dragons and riders that fight all the time." Then he sits up a little, looking down at her. "Yes," he answers, a small grin pulling at his lips. He's /always/ up for food. "Don't do that, Mare. We'll see this through to the end…"

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