High and Low

Xanadu Weyr - The Hollow
This part of the woods has opened up into what would normally be called a clearing. Rather than an open piece of land and a view of the sky, however, the center of this area appears to have been wholly occupied by one of the largest trees in the forest. It stands before you, ancient and massive, it's branches reaching up nearly one hundred and fifty feet into the air and its base measuring nearly as far around. The ground leading up to it is mounded and misshapen from the tree's massive root system. At one point, the tree appears to have merged with another, and a hole large enough for two grown men to stand inside of now resides on one side of this giant, arboreal creation. The inside of the hollow is smooth and free of disease or fungus, giving testament to the tree's ancient health and vitality.

It is not the biggest tree on Pern by any stretch; any number of Skybrooms come far closer to touching the heavens with their staggering height. It may not be the oldest deciduous mass on the continent, either. It is simply a tree. But in that respect, it seems to be the very item the universe had in mind when it first conceived of the thing. Its bark is rough in some places and smooth in others, colors radiating from deeper brown at the base to a smoky dust color as the trunk continues upwards. Branches both small and large reach outwards and upwards, too numerous to count, the lowest of them hanging a mere six or seven feet from the ground. Around the tree is a halo of light, shimmering in dozens of shades of green and yellow to reflect the thousands of leaves above. Lean up against it. Sit beneath its branches, within its hollow. Perhaps the tree would welcome the company, after such a long time on this earth. If one was careful, they could probably climb up into the tree a great distance.

Rukbat has almost completed her path across the blue autumnal skies of Xanadu, the day is perfect if only a pinch chilly in the dawn and dusk hours. The trees have begun to drop leaves, and the barren, naked feel to portions of the forest is offset by the bright yellow and orange foliage that smells damp and musky and provides a minor barrier to trudging along as no one manages the paths in this portion of the Weyr. It's the wood, nobody is going to come and rake. Due to the deciduous nature of the giant tree that marks this unique area, it is nearly bare except for a few spots that have yet to lose their orange foliage. All the nudity of the forest makes it easy enough to spot Evi, dressed in soft green suede pants and a bright teal cloak. There's nothing more out of place then an Evi up a tree, and she is high enough up that the stability of where she is standing could be suspect. How she got up so high is a grand mystery, mostly because the young weaver-greenrider climbs about as well as a packfish. Clinging tightly to the trunk, face tight and teeth clenched, she's obviously focused far out above the horizon, seemingly unconcerned with her current position. Neifeth is nowhere to be seen, though there should never be any doubt that she is not far off. Where there is an Evi, there's often a Nei.

The forest is not an usual place to find F'yr at any time of the turn and in any weather, especially now that he has a homestead along one of the many paths leading to private dwellings. His path is quite some distance from the Hollow, but it's a well-known landmark in these parts which is probably what brings the bronzerider into the vicinity to begin with. He has persisted in carrying his ludicrously small daypack that would suit a frame much smaller than his, with its canteen strapped to it and the contents carrying the necessities for trekking through the wilderness. Either his duties concluded early or he simply has some time today because he's dressed in his knee-high boots with work pants tucked into the tops, protecting him along with his long-sleeved shirt from brushes with baring branches in the undergrowth on the trek. Glorioth is nowhere in sight, nor in any kind of noticeable proximity in the sky above. This late afternoon-nearly-sunset finds only one of the pair here in the woods, and this one not up the tree, but rather making his way toward the Hollow at its roots, likely for a short break before resuming his direction, generally back toward parts of the forest less densely packed with the trees than the not-really-a-clearing in which the arboreal giant stands. If he sees the greenrider or her lifemate, he gives no sign.

At the height, Evi is standing, she spotted F'yr a distance off. At first, a hand rose, as if to wave but then paused, frozen with eyes glazed in thought she slowly, perhaps a tad sneakily, placed her hand back on the trunk. In sharp contrast, Evi is not dressed in any manner to be up in a tree, it's like she was dropped into it. A sudden disturbance in the northern part of the forest triggers a flock of avians to shoot above the the pair, having been frightened from their home all of a sudden and beating a quick retreat. Incidentally, Evi is facing north, all of the tension relaxing and a goofy giggle escaping. "She got one." Is said too loudly, forgetting F'yr was present below her. Staring down towards the base, squinting and with extreme caution sitting down, one hand firmly on the branch below her and one hand death gripping the rough trunk. The quiver in chapped lips and nervous catch to breath broadcasts all of the anxiety being experienced, but she's still there, in a place that two turns back would have been impossible. "Come here often?" A minor swing to green booted feet play exuding out in a way that is trademark Evi. "And you're alone." The vantage point has emboldened her, she's never been above F'yr in this fashion before, a blithe closed-lip smile wrinkles her nose, not that it's easily viewed from this distance. "It's been a while." The comment is not given any anchor, thrown out in a manner that is either grasped or isn't. What has been a while, seems to be up to F'yr to figure out.

Not all ideas are great ones, allowing one's dragon to drop you in a tree and then allowing her to go off and hunt things, so you're trapped is moving quickly from the excellent idea section to the bad idea section. Suddenly the ground is far away, and Evi is high up, and Neifeth is occupied and not going to help her. Time to move /down/. Gulp. Instructions unclear, she now lives in this tree. Or so it would seem for a few moments, but with a squeak, she drops herself down a branch, cloak getting caught up. Unhooking the cloak and wrestling it free, it's tossed down and lands on a branch about 15 feet from the forest floor. Letting out a hmm, of disappointment Evi continues to treck down. No point for grace or style. This is survival level climbing, aided heavily by a fear of dying and gravity. Once just above the bronzerider she stalls, "Alright, so, um, I thought this would work, but you know it did. Until now, when it's obviously not working." The cloak is abandoned on the tree, though there should be no doubt Neifeth will be fetching it at a later hour. "Ummm.." Awkward, all the awkward in the world. Deep breath Evi, it's F'yr, one of the few people on the whole planet that knows most of your secrets. "Hello. It's. Been a while." The gap between them closed, it's obvious she's suddenly shy and unsure. "Tell me, what's the best thing that happened to you within the last seven." All those self-help books might be working, even if the question is bizarre.

For all that F'yr is probably one of the fiercest allies a person might wish for, he's not often one to fight a person's battles for them, unless that's the best way to be an ally. He may have been a tree-climber at home on the farm, but those trees don't come close to the tree that looms and creates the Hollow. He's not one to call advice up to the greenrider; in fact, he probably assumes she's competent to be in the situation in which she finds herself. He's good at giving people credit for competence that way, whether or not it proves to be situationally true. At some point, the sound of her efforts does draw his eye and he re-situates himself to not be hit by any falling bits of bark or tree stuffs and also to keep track of her progress as it becomes clear that climbing trees is not one of the gifts life has given Evi. As she gets close enough for his assistance to make a difference, he sets aside his canteen and sets about climbing up roots with the competence that comes from climbing up the straps onto a very large (if small for his color) dragon on a routine basis. He gets himself into a position where, when she's finally there above him, he can tilt his head up at her and offer, "Want a hand the rest of the way?" His 6'3" height and musculature do lend him to the task of catching the greenrider and setting her on her feet if, indeed, she chooses to take him up on his offer. "I see you everyday," almost. He points it out practically, but the tug of edges of his lips into a touch of a smile shows he knows what she means. The question is given thought despite whatever action's desired to assist or not. "I figured out Ru'ien's proddy and that he's obsessed with textures. I got a book from the weavers to taunt him with." It's all said quite candidly. Why? Because secretly, F'yr's KIND OF AWFUL sometimes. Evidently, he's also shameless about it.

The fact that Evi lands herself in impossible situations for which she's in no way qualified to handle has become a natural part of her life. The universe she was born into acknowledging that she's a giant wherry hen and to make any progress in life. The offer for help is willingly accepted, "Oh, yes, um- please, thank you." Reaching a hand down, and then deciding to scoot so that F'yr might be in a better position to lower her closer to the ground. An Evi's natural abode. Even while allowing F'yr to help her, one hand is firmly planted on the tree because balance is not one of her gifts either, and she teeters a bit, mouth open with a quiet gasp of fear. "I see a lot of people every day. That doesn't mean they see me back." The comment is whistful, not sad, but not stated with a great deal of perk. Which might as well be Evi's version of sad. During drills, Evi and Neifeth are both quiet, sort of. Neifeth's commentary is a given, mostly rude, but at times rare moments she offers up a compliment. Proving she can be kind, that every offensive comment is indeed a choice. This makes her worse. "Do you come out here a lot? Like, is this what you do?" Her propensity to pick up transport work has lead to Evi rarely being in the Weyr outside of drills and instructions, she's not open about that fact, but it is what she does. "Textures?" Raising an eyebrow and smiling delightfully, full smile, all cheeks, and eyes with the tiniest squeal. "You mean um, I could bring him fluffy things, or.. Um.. hard? What kind of textures. I could get you some if you need help." Mischief can be fun, and Evi's all play. At the mention that Ru'ien is only now proddy, Evi rolls her eyes. "Proddy is no fun, you guys get off easy. I um. I think I'm going to take proddy vacations, to where nobody knows me at all. Change my name, wear hats. Maybe Igen, I've heard Igen is nice." That hint is given with a laugh, both eyebrows rising up in amusement. F'yr may have missed the extremely short shorts, skirts, and see-through tops that were the highlight of Evi's proddy period.

F'yr is careful, as he generally is, making sure that Evi is set carefully onto her feet and has her balance before his hands retreat and he shrugs his shoulders. "I see you every day," he repeats. It's probably true. Even with the bronzerider's long inward focus, some part of his brain has the habit of tracking people around him. It doesn't mean he interferes, just as he didn't with her progress down the tree, but that doesn't mean he doesn't see. Glorioth has never once stopped being Glorioth. He has not softened, he has not wised up, he still has never known a doubt, understood a consequence related to an action and still never found a topic more interesting to him than himself. He's still terribly, awfully (wonderfully) himself, and F'yr still doesn't apologize for him, he just works with him (and committedly loves him, because what rider doesn't love their dragon deep down? And in F'yr's case, it's not only deep down). The bronzerider moves to pick up his canteen and replace it on his pack, not as a prelude to departure, but simply so it doesn't get misplaced. "I come out here sometimes. It's a good place to think. I'm still learning the forest so I won't get lost like I did once when I was new here." Since he's staying, this is probably a prudent move. "I'm not quite sure what textures, just textures. I figured the sample book will do to find out." Obviously he's just trying to be helpful, right? No one will buy that, not with the brief roguish grin. Ru'ien, however, of all people, might have it coming. His grin extinguishes abruptly, jaw tightening. "No." Just no. The word may be quiet, but from the bronzerider's perspective it is quite final. In his view, the male riders do not get off easy in the roulette game that is mating flights. "Can't go to Igen. Katailea'll know you there." It's observed practically as he focuses his eyes on his pack, redoing some of the closures on the packs small outer pouches for no apparent reason. It might be something to say to move past the topic of flights.

Careful placement of Evi on the ground is appreciated with a dip of shoulders in a makeshift bow, twirling once with a hop around in celebration of being back on the planet. Despite the wet, musky leaves that coat the ground, the greenrider plops down on her bottom, allowing legs to fold underneath herself. "We found this tree three sevens back, and Nei doesn't eat inside the Weyr unless I make her." Huffing out, shaking her head to highlight how annoying the strange greens dislike of certain foods is. The growth in Evi has been quieter as if only a few days ago she was 15 and bright-eyed, a bit plump and lost. Today, sitting in front of F'yr is a young woman, muscular and maturing into a full adult person. "Find out which is his favorite, and I'll make him something." At the mention of Katailea there's a glance upward, right above the bronzeriders blonde head, lips puckering out and eyes dancing, feet wiggling with delight. "That was the point, Um, sooo." Those 'so's' are never a good sign, shrugging up both shoulders and rolling them in preparation to continue speaking. "While proddy, I was, not myself, you know. Proddy is hard, and I may have been a bit less… Quiet with all of my thoughts, and Neith is not exactly known for being pleasant." Babbled out much faster than any human has the right to speak, nervous, and excited but also apologetically explanatory. "I asked Katailea if she liked you, and she totally said Maybe, but I think she meant yes. I've totally been to Igen, which is terrible. But, if you like her back, you should tell her. I mean unless you're mated up already or something." Matchmaker Evi is the absolute worst idea ever, worst. "I um, sorry. Or not, no, I said what should have been said I am not sorry, I care about you both and I want everyone happy and love is important and…" Out of words, thank Faranath, there's silence again. Evi puts both hands out and up, "It's not easy, I know. shards." Whoops, hand covering mouth, face reddening with minor chagrin. "But wouldn't it be worth it?"

Blonde brows lift as Evi speaks, looking from the greenrider to the Hollow and back. "Oh, it's one of the more common landmarks in this part of the forest." He shrugs. "Stopped here a bunch of times on day hikes back during candidacy." F'yr shifts his pack into his hands, brows twitching a touch higher. "He's your classmate too," he points out of Ru'ien. The point, for F'yr, is to use the textures for his nefarious ends, not to make a nice surprise out of it. "If you want to make him something, why not ask yourself?" He swings the pack up over one shoulder, both hands going onto the strap, though he's still not showing an immediate sign of going as he listens to the greenrider's story. His expression turns impassive as the would-be matchmaker goes on, not unkindly, but giving nothing away. In the end, what he asks is, "Wouldn't what be worth it?"

"I've not been very far in, too much- forest." There's no doubt by her lack of supplies, Evi didn't walk here. "Love, or um, I'm sure there's something worth having in human companionship. You know Nei thinks it's ridiculous, but she also won't eat the black felines or any wherry with to many tail feathers, or bovine with more spots then hooves. So um, to say that she might not totally know everything." Rising from her spot, the sky is scanned. "I um, I don't talk to anyone. Not really." The admittance is quiet, again slightly sad. "I don't think he considers me that kind of friend." Of Ru'ien, and kindness. That pulling away that began in tents continues into adult life. "I was um, you know. Let's forget it, thanks for helping me down." Allowing her eyes to glaze over for a long moment, quiet communication with her lifemate. Diving down into the hollow, Neifeth is splattered with blood and bits of feline fur. "I um, I'll try to ask myself." Nei is carrying her own straps in her claws, dropping them and waiting. "That's uh, my ride." With a shake of her head and sigh the greenrider watches F'yr for a long moment, studying him cautiously and quietly. "I guess Nei's not the only one who can't say the right thing." Is said in a mutter, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. The two of them only land on the same wavelength on rare occasions, and today might not be one of those days.

There's a lot of pieces of life that F'yr doesn't do particularly well. This doesn't always manage to come across because often his default is to becomes quiet and just let things pass him by or let things happen as they're going to happen. This is one of those occasions. In the lack of having a ready response to topics he might not wish to talk about the only thing he offers, after a beat of silence is, "You can talk to people," which might seem obvious since she's physically capable, but maybe he just means to say he thinks people would be open to conversation, generally. If not he in this particular avenue, since he doesn't reply about her matchmaking attempts or the merits of human companionship. He just raises a hand in farewell before turning to make his way back toward the rest of the Weyr.

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