A Chance Meeting

Xanadu Weyr - Coastal Road

This coastal road runs parallel with the edge of beach that stretches endlessly beside the Caspian Lake. From coast to inland the dunes of the beach grow smaller and smaller until they eventually peter out into nothing but small moguls in the sand. The path is eventually seen to be blocked by a river that reaches the lake just south of the point where the road turns west and crosses a grassy meadow towards a sturdy wooden bridge that can be seen in the distance.

Although it's currently not raining at the moment, the sky is mostly cloudy with only a few patches of sunlight making it's way through. Just off the raodway is a pair. One green dragon and one rider. The green is currently stretched out and soaking up what little bits of sunlight she can find, while the rider has a bucket of water in front of her and she is currently rinsing out her shirt, leaving just her vest and pants on. Her boots sit off to one side, propped upside down on some driftwood. "I can't believe those kids. You think they'd have better since to stay out of the swamp after I pulled them out the last time? And that girl. Who knew someone so small could pack such a punch. I swear she thought I was kidnapping her brother and not unearthing him from the muck." She green rumbles softly in what sounds like sympathy.

The coastal road had become a familiar stomping grounds of a young man, for many months he would walk the trails of the road, never drifting too far in, never exploring too far from a water's edge. He had taken the road today with the intention of delivering a message or fetching something a rather from one of the rider's weyrs, having decidedly pulled errands for his duty that day. No matter the exact course, his destination of travel puts him in path of Keziah. Something about the woman, perhaps the fact that she was only in her vest and pants, caused him to reroute his strides to swing him toward her and the one-sided conversation she was having. Frankly, the man after hearing some of it, stops. He blinks and watches with a perplexed expression, head cocked to the one side as if a confused canine. A more thorough sweep of the surroundings puts the green dragon in sight, instanteously rectifying his previous puzzlement. "Dare I ask?" the accent of a seafaring man springs on the woman, keeping his distance some feet away yet.

"I dunno? Dare ya? I suppose that'd be something for you to figure out wouldn't it?" she remarks with the sweetest of smiles as she glances back over at him. She can't help put laugh at the look on his face. "Basically, just another day on the job. Luckily I'd not been wearing my vest when I was ambushed. Still, it ain't the first time I've been covered in muck. Won't be the last. I'm the best at the swamp jobs. Least that's what they tell me. Them's they just don't wanna get mucky if they can help it. Muck's no big deal. She sits back a bit and settles on the sand. "So what brings you out this way?"

For Landers, it becomes an easy and swift response to her own remark, retorting with an amiable smile, "Aye. I reckon I do," which diverts him completely from his bound path. Stepping over driftwood and rock, he closes the distance to one more condusive to conversation and further observation. "Ah, yer the mud woman I be hearing all about," he says in a reflective manner, a facade for a slip of a smile breaks the notion. "Do ya want some help with any of it," he asks, "Be on errands and ya could fit me with plenty at the looks of them mud stains." A sweeping glance of the scene laid out before him builds the pieces, albeit slowly, "Been told someone up this way could be using some help." Evidently sincere, he considers the swampiness of her shirt, "Who ambushed ya then, m'lady?"

Keziah can't help but snort a bit "Mud woman huh? Well they's say I take to it like a duck takes ta water." she notes and then shrugs "Well, me socks over there still need some work. They've been dryin, just need to be pounded a bit and they'll be able to take a bit more abuse." she notes with a twinkle in her eyes. "As for who ambushed me, a sweet little thing. Couldn't be bigger than a half pint. All of four turns. Snuck out after her brothers when they went 'snake huntin'. Got themselves in a bit of a pickle and one was stuck worse than a pig caught in a fence. Hollerd just as much too. Luckily, they'd a flit with them and sent fer help. Well the little one, she thought I was bent on takin' off with her brother when I was leverin him up onto ALo and she comes charging and pelts me with mud and fists and we both end up in the drink for her brothers got some sense inta her."

A good-natured grin crooks the corner of his mouth high, an amiable look to him as he saunters over to the forementioned socks, plucking them with a near dainty pinch of his fingers to observe the quality left within them. The things were stained brown, no matter how much soaking and scrubbing, and stiff with unshapely forms in them. Dropping his head into a slant, a dubios lift of his brows greet the woman, "I be doubtin the long term of 'em. Be ya getting a new pair, ya should, iffin ya don't want ya foot to rot off." The socks seem to get a dismissive look as he places them back where he found them, "Ya having mine iffina ya want. Be big, I reckon thar be true, but iffin ya pull 'em up, ya can use 'em easy." Not soon after her tail of the squeeling girl has him nod back to her in some sign of acknowledgement as he continues to snoop around her immediate space. The last has him smirking despite himself, "The be chased off by now? Ya should be getting 'em ta help."

Shaking out the shirt, sending water dropplets hitting the green who grumbles, Keziah gets up and drapes it across a log. "Bah, the socks have their uses and all." she remarks as she picks them up and starts beating them on a lock sending dust and dried muck flying. "They're me over socks and all. Ain't no rottin of the foot off." she notes and then eyes Landers. "I'll be saying they'd be big. I could wear them as stockins like as not and it ain't that cold, no matter what some of them Candi's think. You don't know cold till you're laying amongst the Caprines during a blizzard in Reaches." she snorts.

Lan is about to say something about how cold it was on the deck of a ship in the far waters North, where ice built up on the rails and sails. A mouth is left hanging open, due to the flailing arms and the flapping paper that contracts a certain errand boy to heave and haul furniture about. Jaw snaps shut, "Aye… Thar be the real call fer me. Nice day ta ya m'lady. Good luck with ya socks…" He notes, pivoting away from her, jogging toward the impatient rider, who can cluck so hard one could swear she should be on the top of some farmer's barn.

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