Keroon Hold - Gather Grounds
Nestled in the vast grassy plains of the northern continent, Keroon Hold has expanded over the Turns and many small cotholds and beast holds dot the flat terrain. Beastcraft Hall is located not too far from the Hold itself and various pastures have numerous herds of livestock, including runnerbeasts of all shapes, types and sizes.
On this bright and clear day, the Gather flags have been raised above the Hold and while normally bustling with activity the Hold now almost overflows with it. Folks of all ranks and positions, Hold, Hall and Weyr, wander the grounds and the inner courtyards. Stalls have been set up in a temporary marketplace, while further down and well away from the landing fields are the picket lines where various animals are available for sale or trade. The scent of roasting meats and baked goods drift on the cold, dry wintry air, mingling with the sound of laughter from scattered crowds of people. Music can be heard at times and there is a space cleared for dancing to come later in the evening. And, of course, there are the stands ringing the fenced off racetrack, the ground there meticulously cleared and groomed and awaiting the last of the racers.
Winter in Keroon means it's cold and dry, but there is little in the way of snow unless one is closer to the mountains. The one's way, way (way) in the distance and all but lost to a rolling vista of hills and valleys. Not that that is the draw for so much activity here. It's Gather Day and the eve of Turnover! The races will conclude here, pitting the best runners from all over Pern in one last stand to see who is the grand champion. Will it be one of Fort's, Ista's or Xanadu's? Or a homebred runner from Keroon or one of the underdogs from the other regions? There is much speculation but for now the race track and the stands are empty. The Lord Holder and Lady have just finished their opening speech in welcoming all the Gather goers to Keroon Hold and now folks wander and mingle in scattered crowds all around the Gather grounds and inner courtyards.
Th'ero has done his duty as Weyrleader, making his rounds among the ranked knots. Greetings here, compliments there, idle chat and well-to dos. It's enough to drive a man insane… so can anyone blame him for wanting to escape? And his chance will come at last when one of the Holder's he was conversing with is distracted by another. Run Th'ero, run! Which… he doesn't exactly but it's clear he's hurrying off towards the makeshift marketplace, eyes scanning the crowds. "Afternoon. Fort's duties." Th'ero murmurs in passing, nodding his head again but not stopping to converse further. Now. Where'd he see his weyrmate run off too? Any familiar faces?
Kimmila has spent much of her time eating. Lots and lots of eating. She's shunned the alcohol and the klah, instead going for some warm cider. Now she's meandering through the crowd, food in one hand, drink in the other. She's dressed warmly in a long gown of dark blue, with a thick and warm cloak over the top of it in a light blue with black and silver trim. Who will she run into first?
For Turnover, Inri is wearing a beautiful, shimmery dress in lilac, with ruching criss-crossing over a sweetheart-necklined bodice into long cap-sleeves with appliqued cuffs. A gathered skirt falls long and slender to her ankles, showing the barest flash of her shoes as she moves; the beads decorating them are echoed in her hair, swept up into a simple and elegant twist, kept in place by a single beaded comb. She is as always one of the fashion plates of Fort, if not the; many teenage girls have perhaps started trying to emulate the junior weyrwoman's style. She's been playing the diplomatic circuit in the opposite direction of Th'ero, moving between her Weyrwoman and mingling on her own — which means that they are walking from opposite directions into the same space and are likely to meet up sooner than later, potentially with Kimmila in the middle.
Nyalle is here as well, dressed in a simple dark gold gown, her cloak a beautiful and rich cream fur. It's a flashy cloak, and probably a gift given the Senior's frugal tendencies. She mingles for now, sticking with the Holders and Crafters, glass of wine in hand.
Lana is… not mingling. Nope, not yet. Instead she lurks around the edges of the gather and eyes those that she passes without saying much of anything yet. She hasn't seem anyone that she's particularly interested in talking to yet and certainly isn't going to go and mingle with random foreign folks at the moment. However, that isn't to say that there's no chance of anyone looking at her for she certainly hasn't dressed down. The brownrider has pulled a portion of her blonde hair at either side of her head into two braids that meet in the center to form one long, intricate braid that cascades down the remainder of her hair, which lies down but has been curled enough to give it a slight wavy look. For clothing she wears a long crimson dress with a shimmery effect caused by a layer of translucent fabric sewn to the skirt and long sleeves that flare out near the hands and sport a black trim around the edges. Today is a day for some of her older more lavish styles of dress. Now if only she was actually interacting so it could be appreciated.
It'll be a Kimmila-sandwich! Th'ero spies both the bluerider and Inri in almost the same instant and his smile, though warm, is probably a touch relieved. "Wingmate!" he calls to Kimmila, followed by a raised hand in a half-waved gesture to the fashionable goldrider. "Inri. Good to see you both!" The Weyrleader has dressed up too but in nothing considerably fancy. Does he even KNOW that word? His long-sleeved tunic is a deep burgundy shade, the cuffs embroidered in coppers and greens and is worn under a black dyed, mid-sleeved over tunic trimmed in the same simple embroidery. Both his pants and knee high boots are black as well and leather belts are buckled around his waist. One to hold his (not-so decorative) dagger on one hip and a short sword on the other. Old habits, ones he had almost kicked but seems to have reverted back. He slips his arm around Kimmila, noting the cider she's carrying and he smiles. "Enjoying yourself?" he asks her quietly, only to lift his voice again to both her and Inri. "Has anyone seen Nyalle?" A simple 'yes' is all he seeks… likely to ensure she hasn't run off again.
Kimmila spots Th'ero first, and then Inri, so she just stops where she is. Wait for everyone to come to /her/, that sounds great. And she'll just eat some more. Nom. "Hello," she greets, leaning against Th'ero and offering him her plate, but with a warning. "If you take too much you'll need to go get me more." And a smile. "Hi, Inri. Wow, you look amazing. Who made that?" Scanning the crowd, she also sees Lana and smiles in her direction. "Lana's dressed beautifully too…" Now she feels under dressed in her simple gown. Oh well.
Who says one has to go looking to mingle? In a Gather, social interaction can find you! Usually perpetuated by someone not paying attention to where they are going and bumping into another. Which could be the case involving a certain Apprentice Harper. Rayathess has been given a "break" from duty, not that he's ever entirely OFF of it even in a festive day such as this. He'd just completed some task or another for the Journeyman he's shadowing and has been set free to wander while he can. An attractive offer… to begin with! All too soon, he realizes he knows no one and the few greetings he exchanges are… curt but polite. He's just finished another greeting on the fly, his head turned as he continues to walk forwards when he catches a glimpse of crimson and— "Shards! Sorry, didn't see you…" he half curses and mutters, managing at the last second to twist away. So long as Lana doesn't move into his path, she'll evade being knocked over. Don't hit him? "… Lana?"
Ezra is converging on the area as well, the young Heir having spotted his brother from across the way. Mug of ale in hand but still mostly full, he's dressed in fine clothing fitting his rank, and his slightly worn Stonehaven jacket. "Rayathess!" he calls, cupping his free hand to his lips as he patiently makes his way through the crowd. He'll get there eventually.
"Kalysra at the Weaver hall," Inri provides a reference, looking down at the dress and smiling at it again before grinning at Kimm. "Starving? I can grab you more food, if you want, and I won't take any," even if she is eyeing it with curiosity, having not tasted any of the edible arrangements yet today. She had to go give her family hugs, too, as they'd arrived for the races. As for the Senior? "I was with her a few minutes ago, she's talking to Lord Keroon, I think," Nyalle's junior dutifully reports to the Weyrleader.
Gathers are unique in their ability to allow you to run into interaction even when you aren't mingling. Maybe even interaction with someone you know! There's just no telling who you'll run into at a gather. That's the case with Lana as someone almost walks into her, causing the brownrider to promptly move to the side while muttering under her breath. Well, at least the person is apologizing and- oh! That voice sounds familiar! She raises an eyebrow as she waits for the apprentice harper to recognize her and end out rolling her eyes when his identification comes out in the form of a question. "No," she says in a dry voice, "Rulk the canine-faced girl." There's a small smile then as she adds, "you're looking well, hopefully not being driven insane by all the formal greetings that seem to be going on here." That's when she hears another familiar voice calling out Rayathess' name and glances in that direction briefly. She gives a small wave as she remarks, "looks like your brother's here as well then. He might want to watch out, if too many of these hold girls see him he might be mobbed by Lady Stonehaven wannabes."
Th'ero will glance down with similar interest to the plate of food Kimmila offers him and then eye her for that warning. "I'll keep that in mind," he drawls, only to smile crookedly to Inri when she offers to go for more. Feeling a touch reassured that he won't have to face Kimmila's upset, he'll help himself to some small pieces of food on the plate. "Why don't we just head down closer to the food? I've been wanting to see the wares in the market, regardless. Preferably before the races start!" he suggests. The Weyrleader will tuck that Weaver's name into memory too, once Inri shares it and he will glance out towards the crowds. "Ah, so she is." He remarks of Lana, though it's the Harper next to her that gains a lingering look. Huh. "Stonehaven brother is here. Rayathess. Ezra must be here too then, I'd imagine?"
Kimmila brightens and /beams/ at Inri, nodding her head. "That would be wonderful. I'm starving." Even after eating all of that? "Busy morning," she adds with a small cough and a slightly abashed look for her gluttony. "It's a stunning down. I'll have to look her up, see if she could make me a few things." She looks around and nods, tipping her head in that direction. "She's over there, Wingmate, I can see her. Anyone know where she got that cloak? It's astonishing, and I just /know/ she didn't buy that for herself." Never. As for moving, she nods and takes a step in that direction. Closer to FOOD. "I think I saw him," the bluerider says, sparing a quick glance to the crowd.
"I can ask, though I'm not sure — I mean, I am sure she didn't buy it herself, but I'm not sure where she /did/ get it." Inri willingly migrates alongside her companions, not exactly averse to food herself though clearly not as enthusiastic as the bluerider is. "Probably all three of them are here — are there small animals in the market, because that's where we'll find Anrila. Ezra might be over by the food, too." Or he's left the food and is trying to catch up with Rayathess, but they'll learn that soon enough.
Rayathess snorts and would have likely rolled his eyes and said something snarky in return to Lana, only to remember he's supposed to be on his best behaviour. Darn it! He's dressed in blue, mostly of the darker hues, all clean cut and simple. What more could an Apprentice afford for formal wear? "Nice try, but I can see right through your ruse," he drawls to Lana, giving the brownrider another sidelong glance before chuckling. "So is that why you're hiding on the sidelines, then? Formal greetings and settings not your thing?" Clearly she has the dress down pat though! Ezra is calling him then and Rayathess' features brighten. "Ezra! So you did make it!" he calls back.
Ezra finally makes his way through the crowd to his brother's side, clapping him on the back before giving Lana a small and polite bow. "Brownrider Lana. You look lovely," he compliments, before turning to grin up - across? - at his big brother. "Hey, glad you could get some free time. Want to wander?" Then back to Lana. "Care to join us?" It's all politeness and smiles, here!
Lana can't help but chuckle at what Rayathess says. "Oh darn," she jokes, "I'll need to be getting my mark back for that mask then." There's a pause as she glances as she considers his next question before shrugging. "Not really, no. I find that formal situations aren't always the best places to meet people and I didn't see anyone I knew. Well, other than Th'ero and the like but /that/ would just be asking for a big pot of formality stew." She's not sure that she was really count herself as friends with any of the riders over there, so it's probably best to leave them be. Curiosity enters her voice as she asks, "what about you? Didn't want to mingle with the masses? I mean, you do look nice so it's not like you'll be getting looks of incredible disgust or anything." At Ezra's arrival and politeness Lana struggles to hold back a grin. Oh, he certainly has his formalities on. Instead she offers him a small nod and a curtsy, followed by a muttered curse as she nearly trips when curtsying, before she says, "good day, heir Ezra. Thank you, the same to you." At his offer she looks surprise for a moment before giving a curt nod and saying, "I would love to."
Th'ero blinks when Kimmila is eager for… more food? He's about to say something along the lines of 'but didn't you already eat?' but wisely bites his tongue. Smart man — for once. "Ahh, thank you Inri." he says belatedly on her report of Nyalle's whereabouts, only to have it further confirmed by Kimmila. Yes, he sees the Weyrwoman now and he can only shrug his shoulders on the remark of the cloak. "Probably a gift of Mr'az's?" he ventures to guess, tossing it in and as Kimmila steps forwards he will slip in alongside her and loosely wrap his arm around her waist. "Three of them?" he murmurs to Inri as they walk, if the goldrider should be following. "You think the sister is here too? … no, that'd make sense. It's a Gather, but Turnover too." Of course the Stonehavens, among many others, would all try to escape here!
Kimmila shrugs at Inri. "I was just wondering. I certainly don't want one, I'd get it filthy in a matter of minutes." Nyalle on the other hand seems impeccably put together. One of those women that Kimmila secretly, quietly loathes for their ability to be so composed all the time. "Mr'az? Oh, right, her bronzerider." Hmm. Then she looks around. "/Are/ we looking for Anrila? Do we need to talk to the Stonehaven children about something?" Yes, children. In her mind, children. Always.
Anrila is definitely hiding in plain sight amongst market stalls, not talking to anyone, because that /is/ what she does.
Rayathess' grin doesn't waver in the slightest when Ezra claps him on the back, a gesture that is returned and happily so. "Good to see you too, brother! And… I've the free time now. I could be called back." More like will be, but he tries to be upbeat and positive about it! "I'd enjoy that. Anrila's here too, somewhere. Probably with the runners." Safe enough to assume, right? Glancing back to Lana, he's confused by her reply. "Not the best place? How's that possible?" Do tell. Rayathess coughs then, looking down at his simple and not-so flashy attire. Uh, thanks? "I mingle when I can, but as a Harper I'm half on work, half here for pleasure. Music and singing, right?" And information gathering. Sneaky. "You look nice as well," he compliments and just belated enough that it follows right after Ezra's. Oops? To make up for the echo, Rayathess offers Lana his arm, while Ezra takes care of the other polite formalities. He'll also try not to snicker when she almost trips in curtsying to Ezra. Nope. No one heard a thing!
"She might be shy, but I think they persuade her out every now and then," Inri says of Anrila, smile thin but amused. She is not quite as composed as Nyalle, nor could she ever be, because she chatters so much — but she does carry the formalwear off well. That's the sort of training she got from Ciara, presumably. Breakwater women are elegant. (Not really.) "Mr'az has good taste, then, I should ask him where /he/ shops."
Ezra doesn't even crack a smile when she trips. Obviously the brash brownrider doesn't practice curtsyes. This does not surprise him. "Excellent. I was heading towards the Crafter's stalls," and he gestures before moving in that way. "Are you playing a set later?" Then he looks around, nodding about Anrila. He's sure he'll see her at some point, and he pushes down the instinctive desire to go find her right this second and make sure she's okay. Gather. Keroon. Everything is fine. He's glad when Rayathess offers Lana his arm - means Ezra doesn't have to. Sorry, Lana, he's still not sure how he feels about you.
Better late than never, right? Which is to say: Zhirayr is totally here. Has been for a while, even, just… cornered by an old auntie, having both of his ears talked off by her and all her friends. Sooner or later, though, he finally manages to slip away, by hook or by crook — and immediately goes in search of hard alcohol, to get some of the old auntie's suggestions out of his mind. Then, two drinks later, he finally starts looking for people he knows, in order to evade any attempt for her or her friends to seize control of his party-participation again. Helloooo? Anyone out there?
Lana can't help but frown slightly at the mention of being called back. She gives a shake of her head before remarking, "they don't even give you the entire day off for the Turn's End gather? Man, that's rough." For a moment there's that look on her face, the one she gets when she's thinking of something devious or plotting. Or maybe both. But apparently she thinks better of whatever she may have been plotting becauuse the look leaves her face rapidly enough. A half-smile crosses her face at the compliment, it seems like he isn't going to be in trouble over the echo-sounding lateness. "Thanks," she murmurs. It remains on her face as she accepts his arm. Ooh, not snickering is a wise move indeed! Ezra needs not worry not in that aspect, Lana isn't entirely sure if he's someone she likes or dislikes either. Instead he mostly lingers around neutral ground. However, the talk of Rayathess possibly playing a set makes interest appear on her face as she awaits an answer.
"I'm sure you'd be able to keep it clean longer than that," Th'ero interjects to Kimmila, giving her a sidelong look that is both teasing and serious. Come now, give yourself some credit! He then snorts, almost laughing. "Her bronzerider? You make it seem like she's coveted him like an object." he teases in a lowered voice, only to frown. What? "Um… no, I don't think so? I was just reflecting that they managed to secure transport here! Which I guess isn't too surprising." At all. Glancing to Inri again, Th'ero chuckles. "He may wish to keep that a secret!" he tells her. Is there a secret location for all men to shop for gifts for their partners? As they approach the stalls, Th'ero inhales deep of the mingled scents of cooking food. "So where to even start?" he mutters to no one in particular. So much food, so little time?
Kimmila snickers, grinning up at Th'ero? "What? You're /my/ bronzerider." Pausing at the stall, she points to meat on a stick. "No veggies. Just meat." And as she takes it she looks to Th'ero to pay. My, someone is bossy today. "Wouldn't hurt to ask, Inri. So since you've made the diplomatic rounds, everything seem good? People enjoying themselves and all that?" All that junk.
Rayathess shrugs his shoulders with a faint grimace. "Part of being a Harper. We all take turns at being "on duty" for events. I drew the short stick." Simple as that! Hopefully Lana and Ezra can remain civil towards each other, as it'll be awkward enough if they start clawing at each other while he's got his arm linked with the brownrider! "Let's go to the Crafter stalls then. Only one request though… we'll skip the one for Harper, alright?" Because then he WILL be yanked away and put to work for sure! Boring stall work. "Any bets - or guesses, I should say - on how these races will go? Wonder if they'll start soon." Rayathess goes on to say after a moment of silence. Time for (hopefully not awkward) light chatter? Belatedly, he answers Ezra. "Yeah, I'll be playing a set with some of the other Apprentices and Journeymen. Not until the later dances though. Guess you can say I'm the relief for the first groups?"
Ezra nods with a low laugh. "Avoiding Harper. Got it." He's good with that. He doesn't need any instruments. "Let's go to the second hand stalls. I always like to see what they have." He grins. "Looking forward to hearing you play again. Do you know if Lyreh and Laurali are here?"
Which is where the Brothers Stonehaven would have found their sister — amongst the secondhand goods — if someone hadn't brushed up against her and startled her somewhat terribly. So instead of simply running into Anrila, they may see Anrila bolting away, looking a bit shaken. Which is right about when she, with a bag full of small items she's purchased, crashes into Zhirayr. And immediately steps back and pales, looking up at the headman with eyes wide.
"I'll take veggies," Inri says, still looking nothing but pleased. It's a good day, if you ask her. And there are, in fact, even vegetable platters that have no meat to even it out, and that's what Inri gets. (She doesn't make Th'ero pay, though, tempting as it might be.) "Hmm, so is there some bronzerider secret market we'll never be admitted to, is that what's going on here? Possessed bronzeriders or not? Though of course he's her bronzerider, otherwise that would imply there was room for him to ever be someone else's. Clearly not the case."
Wellll, there goes Zhirayr's Third Drink. All over his clothes, and all over his BRUTAL ATTACKER's clothes, and all over some innocent third party's hair. Damn. Well, with his cup gone the way of the dodobeast, he's got both hands free to catch her by the shoulders and keep her from toppling over, at least — and now he's frowning at her, admittedly in a somewhat absent-minded way (to those who know him, and realize that he's basically always frowning at least a little bit). "Hey, now," he mutters, a little bit gruffly (because, of course, he's covering up his own discomfort + alcohol levels). "Slow down a little, all right? What's the rush?" Oh, and: "Are you hurt?" Or just stained?
Th'ero chuckles low in his throat, "Okay, good point." he drawls to Kimmila, holding her close to his side in a brief squeeze. Eyeing the food that the stall has to offer, the Weyrleader blinks and then looks down at his weyrmate. Just… "Meat? Are you sure?" Th'ero would have paid for Inri's veggie platter too, since he IS a gentleman when he's in a good mood. And how can he not be in a good mood? It's a Gather on Turnover eve! He has Kimmila at his side and good company surrounding him. What more can a man ask for? Kimmila will get her meat on a stick, but Th'ero will go for something lighter. "You never heard it from me!" he tells Inri, mouth quirked at one corner to show that he is playing along with the joke. "Pretend you heard nothing." As for diplomacy, Th'ero only sighs. "Seems that way? I spoke mostly to Holders, didn't get a chance to speak to any of the other Weyrleaders yet." Which he doesn't seem too heartbroken about. Glancing about the crowds and down the path to the track, Th'ero smiles crookedly. "It seems as though folks are having a good time. Looks like the stands are filling up too. Think it's almost time?"
Kimmila laughs. "Faranth, if there /were/ a secret bronzerider market it'd explain /so/ much." She gnaws on her meat stick then, with just enough teeth to likely make her bronzerider a bit nervous. "Mmm, might be time to head to the races. I'm game if you guys are."
Lana shakes her head at the explaination of how harper duties work. "Well," she can't help but muse, "as interesting as it might be to see them pull random people out of the crowd and throw them on stage harpers are kinda neccessary for gathers. Still… they can't try and make you burst into song in the street or anything, right?" Then question is asked in a joking tone, although she also looks a bird nervous that that is indeed part of being 'on duty'. Clawing at Ezra doesn't seem very fun right now… plus it could start up a political incident considering where they are! And Lana does not want to be yelled at or lectured by Th'ero right now. So she'll be on her best behavior regarding Ezra for the time being. She gives a quick nod at avoiding harper. Being trapped on stall duty almost sounds worse than being made to sing on the spot! Almost. She frowns briefly as she considers bets before announcing, "whoever seems unlikely to win I'm betting on. If it turns out that someone's rigged the races, I heard that happens sometimes, they might make it so a risky bet would win." The brownrider finishes with a shrug. But really there's no telling with runners if it isn't rigged. There is no comment on Lyreh and Laurali, partly because she isn't sure who they are, although she does remark, "can't wait to see it then. I don't think I've heard you play before, actually."
Rayathess seems a little surprised. "The second hand stalls? Really?" he pries at Ezra, eyeing his younger brother. His brows knit together, eyes darkening briefly at the mention of Lyreh's name but clearing instantly at Laurali's. There's his answer? "No, Lyreh wouldn't be caught dead being here." he mutters. "And Laurali… I'm not sure. Doubtful." Or maybe she's like Anrila and hiding somewhere, lost among the stalls and the mingling crowds. Rayathess scoffs, grinning faintly to Lana. "I'd like to see them try, but no… We don't sing randomly in the streets." So don't get any ideas! He shakes his head, "No chance of these being rigged." How would he know that? "But brave of you none the less to bet on the underdogs. I've a feeling Xanadu's stock may prove to be the one's to watch out for. Or so the word is on the grapevine." He smirks a little at that, only to clear his throat and look ahead. "It's because I don't… play, unless it's for Gathers."
Ezra, the moment Anrila goes bolting, turns and follows, abandoning Rayathess and Lana. It's instinct. Nothing he can do about it as he stops behind his sister, sizing up Zhirayr, a hand on her shoulder. He barely manages to stop from snapping at the Headman, instead just standing there for a long moment. Threat level? Is there one? No? Okay then. "Everything alright?" he finally asks, clearing his throat.
Of course, Anrila doesn't know better, and her reaction to his expression is to just look more timid and scared. The fact that she's got alcohol spilled on her clothes? Less of a big deal, as her shirt was navy blue anyway, though her hair's going to smell for quite a while. "I was — I'm sorry, I — no —" she's not hurt, but she is grateful for Ezra, who she immediately leans backward against. "Sorry. Ez. I — someone bumped into me so I dashed out of the way and bumped into someone else —" No real threat. Just one inside her mind.
Zhirayr does at least usually try not to be a threat! — so long as nobody's trying to screw with the running of the Weyr, anyway. His trying-to-identify-this-girl frown eases slightly at the way Ezra is now looming protectively over her. Not completely, of course. "You didn't get hit by a pickpocket, did you?" he asks, totally failing to reassure anyone that Anrila is, in fact, safe.
Th'ero isn't nervous, honest! That's not why he's watching Kimmila gnaw on that stick with a mixed and conflicted expression, right? Right. Clearing his throat, he scoffs. "There's no such thing! And if there is, I've never had the need to use it. I can puzzle out my gifts on my own." he drawls, boasting just a little. And half lying! He needed help in finding a 'sorry I was such a jerk' gift for Nyalle. Looking back the way they came where the track and stands rest, Th'ero confirms that, yes, folks are starting to gather. "We probably should start heading back if we're looking to watch the races or close enough to hear the results! Shall we?" he asks, glancing from Kimmila and then to Inri.
Kimmila nods, finishing her meat stick and ordering another (!) before she's heading towards the stands with the others. "Let's! I'm betting all Fortian today." Probably.
"Most of the others," meaning the Important People, "seemed to be having a great time as well," Inri can agree, as she munches on a couple of cold vegetables and generally basks in the company. She switches gears rather quickly, though, balancing her tray and walking as she agrees-and-asks, "I think we shall. Does that include Breakwater? Because of course my sister's out there, too. Not that I'm giving her the credit for lasting this long, it's all on the runner, really, but I guess she has to at least be able to stay in the saddle." Fort's junior weyrwoman is absolutely supportive of her family, can't you tell?
In a moment of niceness and helpfulness (well, what Lana considers to be helpful anyway) Lana shrugs and comments, "sometimes you can find interesting stuff at that stall." That's it, that's about as close to supporting Ezra as she'll get. Good luck, he's on his own from now on. When Rayathess answers regarding Lyreh and Laurali she scrunches her nose of briefly as she tries to remember who they are. Either she remembers something she doesn't like concerning one or both of them or doesn't come up with anything as she frowns but doesn't say anything. The frown fades away to a grin as light laughter bubbles up from within her while she remarks, "well that's good. Somehow I imagine harpers bursting into song randomly on the streets would be more terrifying than anything else." It's a brand new form of horror: attack of the overly enthusiastic harpers. A shake of her head before she remarks, "the grapevine is almost never correct, Xanadu'll score somewhere in the bottom, I'm sure of it." Lana is silent for a moment at the only playing at gathers before she nods. "You work more with records, right?" She does seem to see him doing something with those quite a bit. Suddenly Anrila runs by and Ezra goes bolting after her. A look of curiosity mingles with a frown as the brownrider asks, "do you think she's alright? He went off pretty quickly."
It's a simple enough question that Anrila is at least able to answer it; a quick headshake and, "No. I don't think so." She hopes not, anyway, and is now sticking hands in both of her pcokets making sure that, indeed, nothing has been picked.
It's a Turnover celebration, and despite it being winter it's not snowing. It's cold, it's dry, but there isn't snow on the ground in Keroon, though the distant mountains shimmer with it. At the moment the runners are being paraded towards the starting gate and many folks are drifting towards the betting windows or the stands to watch. Elsewhere, there is an abundance of stalls, Crafter and merchant, selling everything from meat on a stick to jewelry to scarves and jackets for people who didn't dress to the weather.
Ezra nods at Anrila, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "Should we go find you some different clothes?" he asks, "get you cleaned up at least." He's glad she wasn't pickpocketed though! "I'm sorry about your drink and your outfit, sir," the young Heir says. "I could have it cleaned for you if you wish." Pernese drycleaning?
Th'ero won't comment on Kimmila ordering more food. Bite your tongue, bite your tongue! Don't peeve off your weyrmate. Maybe he'll grab some fruit or other easily carried snacks just in case before they begin to drift back towards the racetrack and stands. "I think Breakwater has a runner in this race? I know there are a good number of Fortian bred stock, along with Ista and Xanadu. I didn't know you had a sister who was a jockey, Inri." he murmurs, only to snort again at Kimmila. "Confident, aren't you?" he teases as he leads on down the paths. There's definitely a shift in the crowds now, though it's fairly laid back. No mad rush to the stands! Time yet to secure a seat or a vantage point.
For all of Zalulia's various quirks, issues, and behaviors she never has been one to miss a party. Especially when the word 'party' can mean a good many things for her. Today it means gather and the apprentice harper can be seen darting about the various assembled people, fiery red hair giving her away. It would seem that she has gotten a ride from a rider and so the plague of Xanadu has been unleashed upon Fort. Whoo, party! She can't quite seem to decide on any one direction to go in as she keeps changing the way she is headed, skidding this way and that. It is when something particualrly interesting catches her eye that Zalulia breaks into an all-out run… only to fail to see where she is going and collide with an unknown person. Whoops!
Zhirayr shakes his head, shrugging. "Nah. Don't worry about it. Alcohol evaporates quickly enough, and it didn't soak through all the layers I'm wearing, anyway." For once — for once — Zhirayr's Endless Black Clothing doesn't seem to be completely idiotic and weather-inappropriate. He looks, in fact, just as much not-cold as he usually looks not-hot, when seen in large crowds and crowded events. "But it's good you weren't pickpocketed," he tells the nameless-girl-somehow-attached-to-Ezra more gently. "Ah — what's your name, again?"
Kimmila shrugs, "I have to be!" she tells her weyrmate with a grin. "Wouldn't be loyal if I bet any other way." Even though she totally bet across the board during the previous races. "Oh is she? That's exciting, Inri. Did you bet on her?"
Rayathess quirks a brow at Lana, still not entirely sold on the whole 'second hand stall' business. Sounds shady to him! "I'll take your word for it." he mutters and the brownrider will just be left guessing as to who Lyreh and Laurali are. He doesn't elaborate, startled as he is by Ezra's sudden abandonment as he rushes off after Anrila. Ah, so there's their sister! Rayathess is about to follow, which would mean Lana is dragged along for the ride but he forces himself to stop. No, Ezra can handle this! He will have to catch up later. "It'd probably startle several people," he agrees distractedly, only to laugh. "Ahh, so you're not one to believe in gossip then?" Good. "Not just records. Other lessons too, but I am hoping to, later at least, focus more on law and history." Fitting, right? Noticing that more and more folk are heading in one direction, Rayathess glances sidelong to Lana. "Races are going to start. Were you actually wanting to watch them? Or…" Stay here?
Of course there's not snow! …thinks the junior weyrwoman from Xanadu. Down on the southern continent, summer's just wrapping up instead of the other way around, so to her, the brisk air here is an omen of things to come instead of a familiar part of the season as she strolls the Gather - mostly in the company of Xanadu's Weyrleader, but at the moment, he's stepped away, leaving her by herself to browse the contents of a leatherworker's stall. A stir in the crowd makes her look up, peering through the flow of people at… just what's going on over there?
Inri dutifully does not comment on any of Kimmila's past betting behavior — what of it she knew is none of her business /anyway/. At least the bluerider comes off as more loyal than Inri: "No," she says, in regards to her own betting. "But at least that's just because I don't tend to bet at all, it makes me nervous. Her name's Aifric," in case Th'ero was curious. "My only sister, actually.Three brothers and her. I don't know if my other siblings are here, though — well. Se'ras is, somewhere."
Nyalle is the one that Zalulia collides with, the Fortian Senior stumbling back with a startled and soft cry, her skirts and pure snow-white fur cloak swirling a bit with the sudden movement. She stumbles but she doesn't fall, her wine glass tipping…tipping…tipping… It's one of those slow motion moments, just like a laundry detergent or carpet cleaning commercial. Alas, Pern has no StainMaster and so it's with a thudding splash that her red wine ends up on her white fur cloak. So much for Kimmila's theory. Nyalle's gasp is audible, at least to the immediate vicinity.
"I might need a fresh shirt," Anrila admits shyly, for all that she's glad Zhirayr's clothes aren't damaged. And at first she assumed it was Ezra the man was asking for a name of; when she realizes it's actually her, she hesitates and then barely more than whispers, "I'm Anrila." Two words! Technically, three. She is advancing, slowly, in the talking-to-strangers department. (Very slowly.) She's about to start on another run of apologizing when she notices that theirs was only the first collision, and her eyes widen even more as Nyalle's outfit is ruined by red wine.
The harper craftrider Kyldar has found her way to the gather, and now picks her way amid and through the crowd, with a pair of children in tow. She pauses to get some sandwiches for the kids, and some drinks, juice for the kiddies, a glass of wine for herself, and as her attention as drawn to the Nyalle-Zalulia crash she graviates into that direction. "Oi," she ois, mainly to Nyalle, "that looks ugly. Are you alright there?"
Th'ero smirks towards Kimmila, shaking his head. "Hope loyalty works, in this sense." he teases her, focusing his attention back on Inri when he's not trying to watch the path. There's enough colliding going on already and… if anyone bumped into Kimmila it'd probably not end very well. "Looks like you and I agree then Inri, on the whole betting thing. Aifric," He was curious and now he's committing yet another name to memory! Se'ras he knows, that much flickers in his eyes. His brows knit, "Don't think I've ever met any of your other siblings, save for your brother." In passing. "Well, best of luck to her then! And Breakwater." Then there's that audible gasp and Th'ero spots Nyalle not far off… and her wine-spilled cloak. "So who jinxed her?" he drawls, teasing but also sighing under his breath. Will the Weyrwoman ever get to enjoy a Gather?
Kimmila finds a seat where they can all watch, the bluerider foregoing the VIP section. Instead, she chooses a seat towards the front, on the end and near the stairs. Easy escape route, perhaps? "Ugh, that…that's a right shame and a pity," she says of Nyalle's disaster, shaking her head and looking at Th'ero. "You need to go over there? Inri," subject change! "you'll have to point out your sister for us."
Hey, you can get some really neat things from second hand stalls! Or at least Lana thinks so. Or course there's always the risk of finding some creepy hand-made thing forged from bone and flesh but hey, that's the gamble of the stall. She won't guess about Lyreh and Laurali for long, as they don't seem to be relevant to anything going on at the moment she isn't going to waste time mulling over them. Or make herself all unfocused and risk giving herself a headache thinking about something she has no memory of. If she notices that Rayathess almost follows after his sister she doesn't say anything for the moment, although she does smile at her feet briefly. "No," she admits regarding the gossip, "I've heard enough of it in the past to know that most is hogwash." There aren't always many interesting things to talk about that are too grim to be funny and so lies are developped. "I think you'd be good at it," she can't help but murmur to the law and history admission. He has plenty of experiance in that area after all. A small frown crosses her face at the runners as she considers. Finally she suggests, "I'd be fine with staying here, you know, if you don't want to see them…"
Ezra dips his head respectfully to Zhirayr, and then glances down at his little sister. "Alright. Let's go find you something to change into then," he murmurs. "If you'll excuse us, sir. Apologies again." Then with a hand on Anrila's shoulder, he attempts to steer her towards some of the Weaver stalls.
This is proving to be a collision filled Gather, but not all end badly. Another is about to occur, namely in the arrival of Xanadu's Weyrsecond. As the crowd thins, she'll spot Soriana browsing the leatherworker's stall and that will be enough to have Kiena attempt to turn against the tide and work her way back. Not the easy task! But she manages. "Hey," she greets, trying not to look too flustered as she fidgets and smooths down her skirts. Ahem. Formality? What's that? She opts for swiftness. "Hope you're not too attached to your outfit? Just witnessed two get wine spilled on 'em." Beware, beware! "Ka'el off in the crowds?" she asks, eyes darting back to those very groups and clusters of people. Dare she dive in again?
D'ani gets to watch the race today! But that's because it's part of his official beastcraft duties, which have, until now, kept him in the barns helping with the pre-race runners inspections. His trackside duties see him emerging and heading to where the starting gate is. It's there that injuries are most likely to occur. He'll be free to celebrate and mingle later. Right now he makes his way through the crowd to the spot where he's been assigned. If he does see anyone he knows, he'll nod, flash a warm smile and keep going, all business at the moment.
Ragtag has arrived.
"No apologies necessary," Zhirayr mutters to the two, already distracted, and makes a beeline for the Weyrwoman, snatching a glass of white wine out of someone's hand on the way. (Oops.) He manages not to spill it on anyone as he lifts it in a super-brief greeting-salute at D'ani, then similarly at the Weyrleader-et-al., but within a minute he's right by Nyalle's side, wineglass high and poised to… dump it all over the growing stain on her formerly-spotless-white cloak. Then, he stops himself, and lowers it, and looks around for someone who might have a handkerchief that isn't black, unlike his own. "Weyrwoman," he adds, almost absent-mindedly, in a greeting that completely fails to take into account the fact that he looks like he's about to make things that much worse.
Zalulia truly is a disaster that should never, /ever/ be allowed outside of Xanadu. The slightly pained grunt that leaves the harper is cut off by a gasp of her own when none other than the Fort /senior/ ends up with wine spilled on her. Her eyes widen in horror as the sight of this. She is /dead/! Kiena or Soriana or Kera or maybe even Thea, SOMEONE will have her hide for this. The words spill out before she can think them through as she exclaims, "oh, I'm so sorry! Maybe it can be fixed? And… and if not we could pour red wine on the rest of it! Make it look like it's meant to be that color?" Shards, this would probably be much easier if she were completely sober. A glass of wine is enough to effect this poor girl.
"You're one of the few who've learned from that," Rayathess admits to Lana, his arm still hooked through the brown rider's unless she's slipped free while they walked. Brows lift at her reassurance and his smile, though small, is genuine. "Thanks, Lana. That was kind of you." Really kind! Shrugging his shoulders a bit, he begins to carefully change their course and walk away from the stalls and towards the stands instead. "Well, it IS the final race. It'd kind of be a waste to miss it when we're here!"
Nyalle is looking mortified, staring down at her white cloak with wide eyes. She. But. It. But. She hates gathers. She's decided. Just now. Mustering her emotions she looks up when Zhirayr is suddenly /there/, shrinking back a bit from the white wine held in his hand. "What are you doing?" she hisses under her breath to the Fortian Headman. Then she looks at Zalulia, eyes widening even more. "No! Of course not!" Be nice. "It's…it was an accident. I know you didn't do it on purpose." She even manages a smile, albeit forced, taking a deep breath and letting it out nice and slow. "It was an accident. I shouldn't have…" Worn something so white and so special out of her bedroom. "It's my own fault." Now she's taking the blame?
"Don't be ridiculous, Weyrwoman," Zhirayr mutters, oh-so-respectfully. Yep. "Of course it isn't your fault! It was an accident, yes. Now." He pauses, lowering the glass, and trades an expectant look between Nyalle and Zalulia. "Do either of you have a white handkerchief on you? Or both of you? We need to soak up some of the red wine, first." He knows things, you know.
Inri seems torn between moving to Nyalle's side — where lots of people at least already /are/ — and staying right where she is, as she gives the debacle with the wineglass a wide-eyed look. It really /does/ seem like someone jinxed her. Maybe they'll just have their next party … at home. By themselves. Private goldrider party with no disasters. But when Kimmila conveniently changes the subject, Inri goes with it. "Oh, I will. The runner's pretty easily noticed himself — big deep bay color, gorgeous legs. Tall and proud." She /does/ notice the passing D'ani, and calls out, "Hey, Weyrsecond!" with a wave, but she knows he's working.
Th'ero scowls faintly as he narrows his eyes, trying to see if he recognizes the one responsible. He can only glimpse her knot though and that's enough for now. That, and Zhirayr and others are already going to her aid. "I probably should, but it seems as though all is being taken care of. What more can I do?" He does feel bad for Nyalle though. Weyrwoman just doesn't have any luck, does she? "Is your sister wearing Breakwater colours?" Th'ero asks of Inri, also choosing, at last, to just sit down beside Kimmila. An announcement rings out then, drifting over the din of the assorted conversations and preceded by a fanfare of music. Races are about to start and the runners are lining up! It'll be one race this time, so there is a surge of activity as folks DO hurry this time in hopes of claiming a good seat.
Gathering through thick and thin! That's what the crowds are, at least. Mostly thick. Soriana looks to Kiena as the weyrsecond approaches, and smiles. Another face in the crowd, but she knows this one. "Hey," she replies, then laughs slightly. It's brief, but not unamused. "I could use more workout clothes?" Not that Gather-worthy ones are well-suited to that, stained or not, but her outfits hardly tend to the elaborate - this one is a pair of fitted trousers and a blouse with a knee-length flared jacket over it - and besides, she has other things to worry about, like the stir half-glimpsed around someone with a rather fancier outfit, now splashed with wine. She nods about Ka'el, a bit distractedly. "Near the track, I think." That's where he meant to be, at least. Given these crowds? Who knows!
Kimmila nods, leaning forward to peer down at the track. "Big bay…ah, I think I see her? Fourth position?" she asks, lifting a hand to point. Then she leans back against Th'ero, resting against his side and sipping her cider. "I want klah." Someone's demanding! And pouty.
Those crowds are like strong undertows! You think you'll end up by one point, only to be spat out somewhere entirely different and good luck trying to fight it! Kiena laughs back, flashing a brief grin to Soriana. "You'd be the most fashionble one while working out!" she teases. The bluerider has opted for a blouse as well but an ankle long skirt instead of trousers and she has actually spent the time to wrangle in all her hair into a twisted braid. "Ahh, he's brave to go that way." Kiena intones gravely, only to quickly snicker and with a jut of her chin in the direction of those very tracks, she adds. "And we can be too, if you wanted to see how Xanadu does? Last of the stake races." One time viewing!
Nyalle's cheeks flush slightly at being called out by Zhirayr. Right. "Oh, I…yes…" A lady is never without a handkerchief. She digs into her small purse and pulls one out, handing it over. Then she stands there awkwardly, glancing around. "Should I take it off?" Or just play dress dummy?
As Ezra moves deeper into the gather with his sister, he too spots D'ani and gives him a wave and a smile. Then it's back to business. "Do you want me to stay with you?" he asks Anrila quietly, "or let you go on your own? Do you have marks?" As they pass by Kiena and Soriana, the young heir lifts a hand to his chest and offers both ranking women a bow, then they're moving on.
Bone and flesh?! Remind D'ani to shop in the opposite direction as Lana does! He gives Zhirayr and Ezra a wave before he disappears trackside.
Kyldar says says to Nyalle, "There's no need to kick yourself. It's insanely crowded here—into every party a little chaos must fall, right?" She fumbles around in her pockets for a moment and offers Nyalle a handkerchief. Looking around for other familiar faces, she spots Th'ero and gives a wave.
"Yeah, she is, and a big blue ribbon in her — that's her," Inri nods as Kimmila identifies Aifric; she looks perfectly confident from their vantagepoint, though Breakwater's jockey girl is actually probably just as nervous as the stallion she's riding isn't. The stallion is a happy high-stepping strutter, and Aifric is holding herself together until the time in which she has to do nothing but focus on going forward /and fast/. "She's been doing this for so long, I'm used to it just being a childhood habit but then I remember that she's actually eighteen and still doing it and Breakwater actually makes /money/ in the races. Aif grew up with the Lady Holder's daughters, they're all very close in age, so she's being sponsored at this point. Doesn't stop her from wanting to be Headwoman, but." Inri the chatterer sips her wine.
Seeing as how Zalulia's handkerchief is suddenly in use as the woman darts off to be rather noisily sick… Zhirayr gives up on using that one, and mumbles to Nyalle to Just Hold Still, It's Faster, as he turns her handkerchief just as red. And then… SPLASH, there goes the white wine, after all. Without even the slightest of explanations. He stuffs the red-wine-soaked handkerchief into the now-empty glass, and sets his gaze on those around them, trying to figure out who else has a handkerchief he can con out of them.
Nyalle smiles gratefully at Kyldar, taking her handkerchief as well. "Thank you," she murmurs. "I suppose that is true." Just hold still? She bites her lower lip and forces herself to hold still, though her eyes flash with something, and then it's gone. When he splashes her with white wine, she squeaks. "Zhirayr!"
Mur'dah drifts through the crowds as well, the Xanadu brownrider walking with a mug of hot cider in hand. Riding those people currents until, "Kiena! Soriana!" He found you! "Hey, how are you both?"
Kimmila nods, peering down as Inri confirms the identity of her sister. "That's interesting," she murmurs. "Neat that she gets to make money for the hold doing something that she enjoys."
Th'ero lifts his eyes to follow where Kimmila points, all the more interested when Inri confirms that she had guessed right. "Ah, I see her now! You said you bet on all Fortian riders, Kimm?" he asks, grinning down at her as he leans back against her side. That grin fades when she pouts though. Uh oh. "Wingmate… you know you can't." he tries to whisper low to her which… is impossible in a Gather. Someone is bound to hear that! "That's a stunning runner, Inri. Breakwater must be proud of it?" Would the goldrider know? "Good! It's good to hear that they are profiting well on the races."
"Might well be," Soriana admits with a smile. "Then again, might not. I'm sure there's some sort of workout fashion guide I'm missing." Not that she minds, really! She gives up on trying to see what's going on with a shrug, and gives Ezra a polite nod when she notices him passing before turning her attention back to Kiena. "Sure, might as well take a look." Before she can start that way, there's Mur'dah, and she smiles to the brownrider. "Heya! We're off to see the races. Wanna come?" Assuming the crowds let them get there - or even stay together. Oh well, they're bound to end up somewhere interesting. A Gather has plenty of those!
Zhirayr gives Nyalle a very calm look, completely unrepentant and unapologetic, and that's when he notices that she's holding Kyldar's handkerchief. Aha! Perfect! It gets snatched right out of her hand, and applied to the … barely-pink … stain on the cloak. Huh. How about that? "Well, it's not perfect," he announces, sounding far too cheerful, "but another soak and then some fur-cleaning soap, and you'll be all right. Just make sure to take it to the laundry drudges as soon as you get back to the Weyr, all right?"
Nyalle finally looks down at her cloak again, and blinks. Zhirayr is magic. MAGIC! "Wait, how did you… Shouldn't I take it there now? It's an important cloak…" Surely no one would miss her if she fled back to Fort, right? "Thank you, Zhirayr, thank you so much." He'll have a gift basket on his desk tomorrow, no doubt. With…red and white wine.
Kyldar nods with satisfaction as the wine incident is being cleaned up as much as is possible for wine. "Yeah," she confirms. "The gather of the century—more or less literally. Keep calm and party on."
"A couple," Anrila tells her younger-older brother as they disappear into the stalls, finding her a new shirt where she will hopefully also find a space to change into. She clearly wants him to stay with her, as she's wrapped her arm in his, and so they are going to miss at least the beginning of the races — but will come out looking pretty.
Kimmila nods, "I did," she confirms, giving Th'ero a pout when he denies her klah. "I know," she mutters. Frown. But there's a race about to start, so that effectively distracts her.
Kiena groans under her breath. "Is there guides and manuals to everything?" she mutters but it's still all in good humour! As Ezra passes by, she'll return his greeting with a polite curtsy and then grins. "Can't hurt, right? We'll just make sure to steer clear of any mishaps." The Xanadu Weyrsecond is definitely looking to evade getting her clothing soaked or dirtied! Just as she's about to lead Soriana onward, Mur'dah appears and Kiena greets him warmly. Even with a clasp to his arm, though she eyes that cider of his. That better not tip! "Hey Mur'dah! Good timing. We're just heading out to see the race. Come with?" How could he resist? Though in the end, the crowds may claim Soriana once again. Pity! "I'm doing alright. These crowds though… Shells. Not used to his. Are we even going to get to see the races?" Grump.
Mur'dah steps a bit closer to the ladies, mostly so the stream doesn't sweep him away. "Sure, that sounds great. You two just get here?" He sways with Kiena's clap but his cider doesn't spill. Not one drop. "I'm sure we can find somewhere to watch, even if we have to…oh. I've got an idea." And with a grin he turns and moves swiftly through the crowd, towards the stands, glancing over his shoulder once to see who is following.
"I have heard so," Inri agrees, re: the runner, though she doesn't really know, no. As for overhearing the klah comment? Yes, Inri definitely does, though it seems it's just her, and she doesn't ask directly so much as raise a questioning eyebrow at them both, facial expression just mildly hopeful-excited. She doesn't put words to it, just in case — and forces herself to look away to glance back over at Nyalle and make sure nothing's exploded. Nope, looks safe.
Zhirayr gives Kyldar a quick grin before turning his now-slightly-inebriated attention to his Weyrwoman. (Apparently, those auntie-dodging drinks have finally kicked in.) "You're welcome," he tells her cheerfully, and pats her non-wine-soaked shoulder absently. "If you try to take it now, you're going to miss the races! And the rest of the Gather, for that matter," he adds thoughtfully. "It won't be harmed by waiting until nightfall, anyway. So relax! Find a seat where nobody's going to spill anything else on you, drink some more white wine — just in case — and enjoy things!"
Th'ero just pats Kimmila's leg and offers her some of the snacks he brought along. Maybe there's something sweet in there to distract her and cheer her up? "Let's see if you were right with your betting, Wingmate." he drawls and just then there is the final call and fanfare of music! The runners are at the gate and a hushed silence falls in the crowds and surge again when the race is underway. It's hard to say from the cheering who's winning or pulling ahead and the air is filled with the sound of thundering hooves. And it's all over in a span of minutes and the results may be a bit of a shock. It's Ista's runner, Costly Romance, who wins the grand title, with Xanadu's Abelian second and Fort's Sunstruck as third. Once the din of the crowd dies down, Th'ero just stares at the finish line and then darts a look to Inri and Kimmila both. "Well…" Dang? Is Kimmila certain she didn't put anything on Ista or Xanadu?
Nyalle flashes a slightly abashed smile at Kyldar, dipping her head. "Please enjoy yourself. Zhirayr, thank you again." And the Senior is then moving away, though if she stays for the race or flees back to Fort, it's hard to say.
Kimmila glances up at Inri, brows lifting before she glances down a bit sheepishly. Cough. Oh, sweets! She eagerly eats off of Th'ero's plate as the race happens, and then she sinks into her seat with a soft sigh. "Well. That didn't go as planned. Nice final race though. But…there's others, right? Keroon stakes races and what-not? Do you guys want to stay and watch some more races? Or move down to the rest of the gather?"
"More or less!" Kiena confirms to Mur'dah and at his hint of an idea, the Weyrsecond flashes a grin back in return, wry and mischievous! As they zip through the crowds, she'll still manage to give a few salutes and waves in passing. One to Kyldar and a laugh. "Perfect slogan! Keep calm and party on!" How fitting! Greetings extend to Zhirayr too and Nyalle, to whom she adds: "Sorry about your cloak!" And then she's gone, following after Mur'dah and hiking her skirts a bit in order to match his pace. Once she clues in to what his "idea" is, she scoffs. "You expect me to climb in skirts, Mur'dah? Is this just an excuse for you?" Kiena teases, pausing long enough to give him a nudge to his side before reaching out to grip one of the support beams of the stands. You only live once, right? "We better hurry!" Because the races are starting and likely half finished by the time Kiena's climbed up far enough to steal a peek. "HA! Second, Mur'dah!" she cheers, remembering at the last second not to let go. Hopefully they're not behind some Fortians?
Mur'dah turns, hands already on the scaffolding, and looks down at Kiena's legs. "You're wearing a skirt." He honestly did not even notice. Then he grins. "Well you go first, then." Wink. He rocks at the nudge and nudges back, before he tests his grip and begins to scamper upwards. When they're high enough to watch, he grins and whoops. "That's awesome! I need to talk to Abelian's owner…hey, this is a nice view." And he's…not talking about Kiena. Cough. He's actually looking out across the gather and the crowds, even waving to a guard who is peering up at them. "We might want to get down before we get in trouble…" Or kids start to immitate them. Do as I say, not as I do!
Kyldar watches Nyalle's exit and drains half of her own wine in one swig, and closes her eyes contently as she swallows, and follows this with a gentler sip from the glass. "Hm," she hms, her enthusiasm now diminished just a bit. "It looks like I missed the races. I'd've liked to put down a wager or two." Her cheeriness returns quickly enough, though. "There's plenty of life left in this party, though. Let's have fun."
Zhirayr regards Kyldar thoughtfully, for a long moment, and then offers her his arm. "Let's do," he suggests, and steals another glass (or two) of wine from someone walking past and gesticulating with it (or them). "Care for a dance? There has to be dancing around here somewhere, right?"
Therynn is trailing behind Sansha/rider-escort/gambling maniac, but can't seem to keep up as his wide gait sends the rider straight in to the group of other betting ladies and gents. There's some uproar as he's furious he missed the last race of the traveling circuit, looking around for the scout he sent ahead to do his biddings for him. This leave the young huntress turned Candidate to the most freedom she's had in about a fortnight since her foolish decision to become part of the white knotted slave labor crew. She's not quite sure what to do with herself, and Fort is the furthest she's been from Western in ages. Looking across the plains, full of people from all over the place, she feels a little overwhelmed. Squeezing past a person or two, she finally sees some familiar faces and heads towards Kimmila and Th'ero.
"There are others. Keroon stake races, claim races, the apprentice level ones…" Th'ero lists a few names off but his interest is already waning. "Ista will be proud. I'll have to see if we cannot find Cenlia and T'eo later…" Though knowing Ista Weyrwoman's fear of runners… it could be she's back at the Hold or still in Ista. "Let's see if we can't enjoy some of the dancing, Wingmate, if you're up for it? They should be starting some of them now." Of course there are dances! A floor has been arranged not far from the stalls. Harpers are already gathered there, warming up their instruments. The other races are for those truly into the lifestyle, while the rest of the Gather swings towards a celebration of Turnover. What better way to ring in Turn 2700?
There is music striking up over by the dance floor, with lots of proud Istans flocking back to the main area to celebrate! Kimmila nods, finishing her food and cider and getting to her feet. "Dancing sounds lovely," she agrees, smiling at her weyrmate. "Let's." As the sun begins to set, lanterns are lit in Keroon's colors, dotting the pathways and lining the stalls as more food is brought out from the main kitchens and more alcohol is tapped. Party like it's 2699!
"I think Aifric might have one more race, so I'll have to come back later," but it's kind of obvious Inri isn't even sure when that is. Or which race it is. Though she can confirm that there are more races! "But I'll follow you lot wherever you want." She will not get klah, though: "I'd like another wine cooler, at least." And she's probably giving flirtatious smiles to a few people, and perhaps she will as of yet find a dance partner or five.
Therynn never really has the best timing, and as Kimmila and Th'ero head for the dance floor, their paths cross briefly. "Hello Th'ero, Sir.. Kimmila m'lady.." she always hated the sound of ma'am so she opts for the former instead as a tip of the head is sent their direction. "Have fun out there.." she adds, heading towards the refreshment table to serve herself up a nice glass of… redfruit juice. These rules are really beginning to stink she thinks to herself. "Candidacy is no fun at all.." she murmurs while at the table, taking a sip from her mug then turning on heel to watch the gather excitement flicker before her eyes.
"Yes, I am. Shocked?" Kiena smirks to Mur'dah and then rolls her eyes when he plays gentleman and sends her first. Haha, nice try? He better be keeping his eyes on the race and not upwards or he'll find out how unpleasant it is to get nudged int he head with the tip of her shoe. No boots, either! She must have changed after arriving. "You'll have to let me know who owns that runner!" she says and noticing he's waving, she looks down. Only to scowl and promptly pull her skirts tight around her legs. The Guard is looking up at them, right! "Ah, you think?" she mutters, smirking crookedly at Mur'dah. "Come on. I'm hungry and I think even a second place win for Xanadu is enough reason to celebrate?" Kiena carefully climbs down and once on the ground, makes a show of smoothing out her skirts and straightening her blouse. Ahem. Totally not acting her rank. Nope!
Mur'dah snickers, grinning at Kiena before he scampers down the scaffolding. "Food sounds great. Do you want to see what Keroon has to offer before hitting the stalls?" Where food costs money? As for the guard, well…he posts himself behind the stands to make sure no one /else/ tries that stunt. Stupid dragonriders.
Kimmila grins when she sees Therynn, pausing to wave at least. "Therynn! I'm glad you made it! Congrats to Candidacy." Then she slows down, tugging Th'ero to a stop. "No fun?" Yes, she heard that.
Th'ero offering Kimmila his hand, he smiles warmly and to Inri he nods. "Best of luck then to your sister in her next races. Maybe Fort will do better in them." Not that third place is that bad! "I don't think I've even touched a single drink since getting here." he admits, almost sheepish. How dare he? At least the drink and food stalls are on the way to the dance floor? "Want anything, Wingmate?" he murmurs to Kimmila once they're down from the stands and then he pauses, catching movement from behind the stands. His eyes widen a bit. Is that his… sister? With Mur'dah? What were they doing back there? Of course in HIS mind, they weren't climbing like a pair of kids. Oh no. No, he's thinking something else. FROWN. Luckily Kimmila tugs him to a stop then and he's distracted by another familiar face. "Therynn! Good to see you. And yes, congratulations! Are there more from Western here?" he inquires curiously, looking up to scan the crowds.
Therynn shoots a beaming smile towards Kimmila, watching as they head out to dance and enjoy, but gulping as the rider catches her mutterings. "I umm.. I umm.." c'mon.. think of something. "S'just.. tons of chores, including double stables duty which takes days t'get the stench off.. n'no drinkin' and.. gotta get escorted just about everywhere." She's turning pink in the cheeks now. "M'just used to the outskirts life I guess, though the whole food cooked in the kitchens, sleeping on a cot inside and using the latrines has been kinda nice.." Yep that's what she's like the most thus far. A salute and smile sent to Th'ero is paired with a head shake "N'to you too. Just me n'Sansha over there so far.. dunno how I managed t'get away just so he can place bets, but I wasn't 'bout to ask questions.."
Th'ero offers Mur'dah her arm, grinning crookedly. "That sounds like a perfect evening. Let's go see what Keroon has to offer!" She's excited, to say the least, though she'll have to remind herself that she is a Weyrsecond and needs to act like one. Sort of. Maybe her knot will get tucked into a pocket by the time the dancing starts?
Kimmila smiles at Therynn, nodding in sympathetic understanding. "It's a good time though. Try to enjoy it, even when it's hard. It's something you'll never forget, that's for sure. And at the end…the possibility of a dragon. At the very least, a good time and hopefully good friends." Her gaze follows Th'ero's and she has to hold back a laugh at the sight of Mur'dah and Kiena hopping off of the scaffolding. "Up to no good…" Snicker.
Th'ero grumbles something under his breath about 'wild riders' and then gives Kimmila a look. "She's a Weyrsecond!" he hisses in a near whisper. "She shouldn't be… doing such… things!" Now who's taking a page right out of Nyalle's books on proper manners? Aware that Therynn is there, Th'ero takes a steadying breath and switches topics as easily as he switches masks and moods. "Kimmila has a good point. It's a life experience. Enjoy it while you can, no matter what the outcome. And the chores aren't that bad, if you sort've go with it. Helped pass the time at least when I was a Candidate. Otherwise I think I'd go mad, waiting for the eggs to Hatch!"
Therynn takes a deep breath and nods, considering the advice "Yep.. never forget it is right.. like the feeling of runner dung be flung down m'own back.." There's a bit of a chuckle there and she shrugs "Eh.. not counting on it.." she doesn't dare mention she's hoping for the opposite and smiles instead at the nex sentiment "Definitely some good friends though.. and funny times when we're not busy with chores.." Eyes trail towards the mention of no good, snickering in agreement with her own internal opinions about wild rider antics, though keeping these to herself considering current company. "You guys are right.. I just.. can't imagine having one of them eatin' n'poopin machines.." she offers meekly some depths of truth. "I jus' don't think m'ready for it."
Kimmila chuckles. "Come now, wingmate, you're the Weyrleader and I've seen you mud wrestling." Glass houses! Back to Therynn though, Kimmila smiles, nodding in agreement with Th'ero. "It builds skills too. We take our Candidates around Pern to the different crafts, different holds, let them travel and learn. It's a great learning time." Then she grimaces, trying to hide a laugh at Therynn's analogy. "Well…" Cough. "Ah…" Eating poopin machines? Kimmila looks briefly taken aback, and then smiles again. Don't get insulted. "If it's not what you want, then why stand at all?"
Abigail is wandering here to see the races, or well what's left of them. She got in after dealing with a long late sweep as she allowed some of the other's in the wing to take some time off and enjoy the party and the like earlier on. Now it is her chance to have a bit of time off and enjoy the fun so to speak. She made a stop at some point to get a drink, which she is carrying the mug along with her. She catches sight of Kimmila and Th'ero, a smile and wave is sent towards them. Did someone comment about mud wrestling? Perched upon her shoulder is a gold firelizard that is eyeing people now and then with a soft chittering warble escaping the little gold.
Th'ero grimaces. "Who did that? The runner dung, I mean." Ahh, Candidate pranks. Or is this a case of rivalry? The Weyrleader won't pry too far, though he's giving Therynn a curious look. "See? Not so bad. Having a few friends makes a difference." he murmurs, only to cough and clear his throat. Was it shock or an actual laugh he was trying to hold back. "There's a bit more to it than that, Therynn." he points out. Honest! To Kimmila, he makes a warding gesture with his hand. "Shh. Don't mention the mud wrestling!" Because he doesn't want someone to start it up! "And besides. Those were organized events." So there! It's not the same. Glancing back to the crowds, he happens to catch a familiar face again among the crowds. "Abigail!" Th'ero calls out, waving to the Thunderbird Wingrider. Oh, she'd know about the mud wrestling, wouldn't she?
Therynn raises a brow in wonderment, thinking about the implications of exploring so many crafts. "That sounds.. pretty interesting. It's been alotta brat care taking, weeding, latrines and stables for me.. I'm starting to see why riders live so.. vivaciously after enduring an experience like this." She still thinks it's no excuse to abandon your old children, but some day she'll have to face her mommy-daddy issues and get over it. "I am grateful for the experience though. I've only known hunting for most m'life. M'sis wasn't too happy about all this, but I guess she's still kinda glad I'm a lil less.. unkempt now that some inside time has been spent. Just then Tarth pops in from *between* and squawks as she settles on the Candidate's shoulder. She may be a bit unsightly, but receives scritches from Rynn regardless. A smirk is sent towards Kimmila, no offense taken as she shrugs "I'unno.. new experiences?" is said half heartedly before adding "..to be honest.. m'hunting and living grounds partner is off on an excursion and suggested I find a place closer t'the Weyr until he gets back.." The next bit is directed towards the Weyrleader and she confesses with a throat clear "My poor shoveling skills did.." A glance is sent towards waving rider and accompanying gold firelizard before she asks Th'ero and Kimm "Did you both always know you wanted to be riders?"
Kimmila turns to smile and wave at Abigail, motioning her over to join them. "Wingleader Abigail. Did you enjoy your Candidacy?" It's a curious and innocent enough question as Kimmila sips some fresh cider. Grinning back at Th'ero, she smirks, but she doesn't bring up mud wrestling again. Nope, she'll be good. Kimmila nods at Therynn. "Right. Our old friend." She knows. "Still, it's not something to take on lightly. If you /really/ don't want it…you don't want to be 'stuck' as a dragonrider for the rest of your life. It's not for everyone, so. That's just a decision you'll have to make." For her question, she nods with a smile. "I did. I'm weyrbred, so for me…it was a question of when. Not if. Arrogant of me, I'm sure. I was convinced I'd impress gold. Now I'm glad I didn't. But yes. I always wanted to be a rider."
Kyldar returns with the children after taking them aside to enjoy their sandwiches away from the maddening crowd. "Hey," she heys to those still gathered. "And hey," she says now to Therynn in particular. "I thought I've seen you around back at Western. "Got permission to travel, did you, or did you sneak out? You're a candidate for Miraneith's clutch, aren't you?" To the rest: "Anyway, hello, and Western's duties and all that. Quite the gather, this, eh?"
Abigail moves onwards to where Kimmila, Th'ero and the others are. A curious look is sent to Kimmila at the question and she blinks before catching sight of the white knot upon the young girl there as well. A soft ah escapes her and she smiles. "Aye I did enjoy it indeed. Was one of the best times of my life. Hard work of course but still, nothing wrong with that." Her gaze drifts to Th'ero at the bit on mud wrestling and she grins. She may have heard that but she doesn't comment on it! At least not at the moment. Annika the gold firelizard upon her shoulder turns to peer at the firelizard with the stranger, a faint crooning sound escaping her. She takes a sip from her drink with a curious look seen at the talk of wanting to be riders. A glance is sent to Kyldar and she nods to the other. "Fort's duties to Western, welcome to the gather."
Th'ero slips his arm around Kimmila's side, grinning back. That's better! Another time, perhaps, for the mud wrestling. Listening to Therynn, he nods his head and is beginning to understand the Candidate's reluctance, or at least her difficulties in adjusting. "Weyr life can be a shock on its own. Doubly so as a Candidate. You do get free days, don't you? It's been a long time since I stood for Western, but surely they'd let you at least just outside the Weyr walls?" Th'ero should hold his tongue! Kimmila's tale of her stint as Candidate has him chuckling. He's heard this before! As for him? "I was a Guard, posted to Western Weyr. Holderbred, so I wasn't used to Weyr life. I was convinced I wouldn't Impress." And proven VERY wrong! "No regrets." Not a single one. To Kyldar, Th'ero dips his head. "Fort's duties to Western. And it is! Did you happen to see the races, ah…" Th'ero's words stop and his expression goes blank. Oh, he recognizes Kyldar. Cough. "… Enjoying yourself?" To Abigail, he smiles. "Good to see you!"
Therynn is feeling a little on the spot and out of her element right now. Is it getting stuffy in… out… here? More throat clearing commences and eyes shyly look towards the ground as yet another rider is waved over. GREAT! She thinks to herself. Eyes catch Kimmila's jade shaded gaze and the conflict is clear in the reflection of her own mocha irises. "I.. guess I don't really know what I want, n'figure if it's meant t'be it will be, and alternatively if it's not it won't.." she silently hopes for the later. "I guess I.. just don't have a very good track record with riders.. 'sides you two that is.." an overstatement for all of their two interactions. "Being weyrbred m'self I just.. guess it's still hard for me t'understand that lifestyle." Cue Kyldar questions, now she's really overwhelmed. "I'm here under the escort of Bronzerider Sansha.." she motions towards the gent who's in some sort of heated discussion over bets. "N'yes… your speculation is true. M'names Therynn, Western huntress and candidate for Miraneith's clutch" A hand is offered. She'll listen to Th'ero and Abigail's recollection of Candidacy, Tarth taking the time to chitter towards Annika in greeting. To Th'ero she nods "One or two here n'there. Guess I was just so accustomed to the freedom of the woods n'jungles.. answering t'no one but nature and the excitement of the hung.." she grimaces slightly as the Weyrleader dislodges her hopes that being convinced on won't Impress doesn't mean one won't actually Impress. *sigh of doom*
Kimmila smiles at Kyldar when she approaches. "Hello, Fort's duties. Enjoying yourself?" Looking to Abigail, she smiles with a little nod. "It's certainly hard work, to be sure. But it makes you stronger in the end, regardless of the outcome." Th'ero's reaction to Kyldar has Kimmila pausing, giving him a curious look…and then it clicks and she coughs too, grinning a little and even giving him a nudge. Subtle. "Rider lifestyle is really what you make of it. You could take your dragon and live on the outskirts if you wanted. A part of the weyr but not defined by it. You can have that freedom again, now that there's no thread." There's a small, knowing smile for that. "You could even live on your own, just you and your lifemate."
Kyldar gives a slight bow toward Abigail. "Aye, and thank you. I don't recall if we've ever met. Kyldar, green Sinasapelth's of Archipelago wing of Western." She gives a not to Th'ero. "Indeed, though I did miss the races, alas. Still I'm enjoying the rest of the festivities." Then, "Ah," she says to Therynn. "Anyway, yeah, I know the tension of candidacy, and especially of the stand. Also, mind I was the /last/ of my group to Impress. I was just about to leave the hatching grounds when I felt the presence of a /mind/ invading my own and promising to be with me alwaysso remember, 'tis not over 'til it's over." To Kimmila: "It is, but there's a reason that I joined the search and rescue wing, that being that I'd done disaster relief before as a civilian, back when my friends at Ista were dealing with one thing after another." Pause. "Anyway," she says, turning her attention again to Therynn, "one thing is for sureyou'll never be alone, for the rest of your life."
Abigail smiles to Kyldar and nods once more. "Good ta meet ye. I'm Abigail, rider to brown Niumdreoth and Wingleader for Thunderbird Wing here at Fort." As for meeting the other she doesn't think so, no time like now though! She nods to what Kimmila says on it making one stronger, a warm smile seen. "Oh yes, that is for certain." A glance is sent to Therynn and a soft smile is seen. "Everyone feels different on the matter. I didn't think I would ever actually impress, I'm holdborn and my parents didn't think it was a good idea at the time." It has taken some time for her parents to come around but slowly they are.
Th'ero grunts at the nudge and gives Kimmila a look. What? Oh. She figured it out? Relief, since his weyrmate isn't bristling or upset and the Weyrleader allows himself to be swept up again into the conversations. "It's just a matter of finding balance. But as Kimmila pointed out, you can have that freedom again. Don't think you ever truly lose it. It's just… different." he tries to explain and… fails. Th'ero has never been great with words and especially NOT when they're associated with emotions. "Pity you missed the last of the stake races," The Fortian Weyrleader murmurs to Kyldar. "Ista's runner, Costly Romance, won it all. Xanadu's Abelian was second and Fort's Sunstruck was third. Wonder which Hold that runner was from."
Therynn listens intently to each and every bit of the rider's stories, so unique and life changing for each of them. Kimmila's comments are mulled over while she sips her redfruit juice, leaving a lipliner shade of red around her upper lip. "I guess.. I'd never really thought of it that way." She says to Kimm & Th'ero "M'parents really ruined things for me perspective wise. N'all those Weyrnannies and their gossip growing up didn't help either. I wouldn't wanna be a recluse or nuthin, but I guess there would be a certain aspect of freedom not otherwise experienced. Isn't having someone in your head all the time.. intrusive though?" She asks generally, smiling softly to Kyldar and empathizing on the expressed emotions of being last to Impress and also never being alone which ties in to her last question "I.. couldn't imagine.." she smiles and says "Thanks Abigail.." picking up the name from introductions "N'thanks all of your guys for sharing perspective. It's been a weird journey so far but I really appreciate you all for the encouragements." Sansha seems to have raised quite a raucous and is now stomping Therynn's direction with a gruff "I'll be waiting with Darth over there when you're ready."
Kimmila nods, thinking for a moment. "You know, I can't remember /when/ I impressed. It might have been towards the end." There's a smile. "Lot of respect for S&R riders. Good for you. Sounds like a perfect fit for you then, if you did that before. Were you part of a craft? Or just a local S&R crew?" Nodding to Abigail, she smiles. "The dragons know. Parents…can have their opinions." And stuff them. "The dragons know." As for being intrusive, Kimmila nods. "It can be. But you work out a balance. They're always /there/ but they're not always talking. So it's not always intrusive. You get used to it. And of course, Therynn, happy to talk about it."
Kyldar nods to Abigail. "Aye, I'm craftborn myself, nominally at least, but I'd had family connections to Western and Ista. I was, in fact doing some relief work for the latter when I was searched for a clutch by Gold sevaruth and Bronze, erm, wassname, Odryth. My surprise was, well, immense." To Th'ero: "Really? It's not the first time that that runner Costly Romance has taken the race. I'd've liked to but down a quartermark or so. Oh well." To Therynn: "Aye. An impression is something tat you'll never forgett." Finally, with a smile toward Kimmila she says, "Indeed, I enjoy the challenge of S&R. And yes, I was and am part of a craft. I'm a harper. On that note I really need to catch up on that side of my lifestyle."
Kyldar says, "Anyway, as much as I'm enjoying the festivities so far, I need a break I think. I'm going to get some more juice and ponder life with the kids here."
Abigail smiles and nods to Kimmila. "An't that the truth." She offers with a soft amused tone. If her parents had it their way Niumdreoth would have been pushed back into a egg, as if that could happen! A curious look is offered to Therynn and she nods a moment. "Yer welcome. As for Weyrnannies, just best to take everything they say with a grain of salt honestly." This said with an amused tone. A nod is sent to Kyldar before she waves after the leaving rider. "Have a good evening."
"You learn to shield and find a balance," Th'ero explains to Therynn, smiling crookedly. "Though honestly, you won't find it intrusive. It just… is part of you." Okay, it IS intrusive sometimes especially when one is looking to keep something private but it gets through to the individual's life bonded anyways. "Glad to be of some help, Therynn. And best of luck to you, too, in case we do not cross paths again before the Hatching." Glancing back to Kyldar, Th'ero looks quite surprised. "You're familiar with the Istan runner?" Small world? Many probably would have loved to have known Kyldar's inside knowledge prior to betting!
Therynn finishes her mug o'juice and wipes the stache with the back of her hand before setting down the cup on a nearby bus tray. She's taken in a lot of info tonight, and with Sahsa's huffing away she figures she better not be far behind him. A note towards Kyldar and she counters as the rider departs "I suppose the same would go for being left standing.. n'seeya back at Western." There's a smirk that falls across lips as Abigail's Weyrnanny advice is noted "I suppose you're right.. all of ya.. N'I guess, everything in life is about balance." There's a soft sigh and she looks over her shoulder. "Thanks again.. but I should probably not keep a grumpy Sansha waiting. Catch y'all on the flip side!" She waves and bounces towards bronzer escort.
Kimmila waves to the departing with warm smiles, before she's leaning more firmly against Th'ero's shoulder. "Shall we go sit somewhere? Maybe listen to music? I'm starting to get tired. Abigail, like to join us?"
Abigail glances after Therynn, a slight wave seen after the girl before turning her attention to Kimmila and Th'ero. A soft smile is seen and she nods. "Sure I wouldn't mind joining up for a bit." Her gaze drifs over the area once more. "Good amount of people came out for it. Which I'm glad ta see."
Th'ero dips his head in farewell to both Kyldar and Therynn, murmuring through the usual formalities. Supporting Kimmila against his side, he frowns in faint concern. "I think there are benches by the dance floor. Why don't we all go there? Maybe have some of that hot cider to refresh ourselves." he suggests, grinning when Abigail agrees to join them. "It's been a great Gather. Keroon Hold's Lord and Lady have done well and should be pleased. Curious to see if there are any surprises for midnight. Can you imagine? We're about to approach Turn 2700. 2700!"
Kimmila moves with them both to settle on the bench by the dance floor. "I can't believe it's almost 2700," she agrees with a nod, watching the dancers and listening to the music.
Abigail nods to the talk on there being some benches by the dance floor. "Sounds like a good place to start and sit for a bit while watching the rest of things." At least to her as she won't like she is a bit on the tired side. She'll follow along with the two towards the benches taking over a spot once the other two have sat down. A soft chuckle escapes her at the bit on such surprises. "Ye might wish not ta say that too loudly. Never know what could happen." She points out before sipping at her mug. "Though hopefully nothing that crazy." She's rather not have to chase after people or so forth! Onwards they go talking over their drinks until they need o part ways and move off to deal with things elsewhere around place.