Is She... Your Daughter?

Xanadu Weyr - Kiddie Playground

A path of colorfully painted slabs of stone cheerfully invites the weyr's youngest residents and their caretakers to partake in the multitude of activities in this elaborate playground. The pathways here are comprised of a thick cushioning layer of dark brown mulch branching off towards distinct sections. Log roll edging with a pale green-brown finish provided an accent to divide wide stretches of well tended grass from long rounded abstract shapes filled with fragrant wild flowers. More edging boarders the back walls made of tall square shaped hedges with the occasional draping of a flowering bush.
Immediately to the left is a enormous teaching garden filled with most of the herbs and the edible plants that can be found on Pern. Each is clearly labeled with their name and use thanks to posts sliced at an angle at their top, the large blocked text easy to read behind square panels of glass screwed directly into the wood. To the right A twelve foot long, seven foot high 'rock' climbing wall with large protrusions and holes designed with young hands and feet in mind. Farther back from here is a section dedicated specifically to a impressive swing set, constructed of heavy pressure treated lumber and includes exactly six swings along each side forming a wide 'vee'. No more than six feet from the swing set is the record setting oak tree discovered when this place was created, and upon it a fixed robe ladder leads up to an amazing tree house. It has a wide porch, and roof build directly into the tree itself. Inside children will delight in the amount of play space, and the range of games to be found. Peg boards, wooden kitchen items, and even a place to sneak away to color or draw with a breathtaking few of the gardens and playground. Just past the tree house is a hedge maze that a small child may lose themselves in, but is short enough to enable an adult to easily guide the little one out again should they get lost.

The center of the playground is likely it's drawing attraction. A huge brightly colored play structure With seven different types of climbing components (including monkey bars), six platforms, two slides and several hand manipulated activities including cranks, large interlocking gears that actually work and a pop flip puzzle with amusing cartoon characters.

Springtime in Xanadu doesn't always mean balmy, sunny weather, and although there is certainly a relief from the biting cold, snow and ice from the departed winter, it is far from warm today. The cool, damp air has done little to deter the young ones let out of harper lessons, however and since lunch is now over, many of them have found their way here to expend some pent-up energy. Today has a sort of hourless quality about it thanks to a persistent fog that has shrouded the landscape since sunrise, the pallor lending the area a monochrome grey and black - save for the muted colors of the playground equipment. The only other color seen is bright red from the buds of the nearest tree branches and the jackets of the children playing here. There is a nanny or two keeping an informal eye on the youngsters, but no other grownups in sight save for the pair that walk the path towards the playground. One is the Weywoman of Xanadu and she speaks to the man walking beside her, "…might be out here?" Though she doesn't sound too certain about that. What isn't seen, of course, are armed guards, disguised as weyrfolk moving throughout the Weyr.

The limp that saw bronzerider bobbling up the Western stairs to witness the hatching does not accompany his step anymore, having healed enough to put most of his weight back on it. No doubt making his day, considering he has to walk beside the Weyrwoman, yet again falling into his proper and rather formal routine of stiff back and shoulders, with tense neck and steps that seem to oddly match in stride against Thea's. There is and has been a worried tightness around his mouth since he arrived, a worry that has to do with the outcome of the visit. Though with his constant glances skyward toward the fog and little mumbles in a strange language, it could be the fact that the day wasn't clear which is causing him the troubled tug at brows and brooding concern behind his dark eyes. At least he brings his own color to the greyness of the world, wearing a powder blue scarf that dangles loosely from his neck, against a purple and black undershirt with a grey vest and matching pants - still not as loud as he normally wears when working. "If she isn't, then we will look elsewhere-" he finds himself saying in a deadpan tone, not letting on to his moods or the anticipation nettling him, betrayed by his eyes that dart from one colorful kids jacket to the next.

Cool, damp air and a less then warm day has little effect on one young soul out on the playground. Born in the northern parts of the Fortian region, Laurali is no stranger to cold and so she's among those not deterred from venturing outdoors. The girl has made slow progress since being found wandering the forests, still quiet and a little withdrawn, but no where near the terrified and anxious mess she was when she was brought before the Xanadu Leadership and then later Fort's Leadership as well. Now that all is out in the open, the girl is left to live a relatively normal life in her mind, no longer having to play along to some game or hide under some mask. On her own away from the main group of children, the thin little girl has chosen to sit on the swings, idly using the tip of her booted foot to push herself back and forth but with no actual enthusiasm. Staring down at the dark brown mulch that covers most of the grounds, she looks quite lost in thought for one so young. Long, thin and dark colored hair remains unbound, spilling over her shoulders and framing her narrow, angular face where it hasn't pooled and bunched up in the hood of her muted light blue jacket. At least she looks far better dressed then she was before, all in clothes given to her and cherished as her greatest possessions. When used to so little, even the smallest things seem the greatest of riches. Despite the fog almost making her unseen, she'll be spotted easily thanks to her aloof nature.

Thea's eyes, silvered by the fog reflected in them are busily scanning the playground even as she nods absent agreement to A'dmar. "Certainly," she agrees easily enough. Even though she's got a hundred things left undone to finish before the day is done, this is important to him and thus she'll do what she can to help him ease his mind. The tension in the man is certainly felt, but unremarked to. Over the turns she's seemed to realize (and accept) that most men (at least the primary one in her life isn't) aren't comfortable verbalizing their thoughts and feelings. So while sympathetic and understanding, she allows him the space to churn inwardly. Her gaze sweeps the figures running, jumping, climbing, sliding, swinging - or not swinging as is the case of one young girl. "Ah! There she is!" They're still about fifty yards away so her voice lifts to call the child in what is hopefully a cheerful enough greeting, "Laurali! Hey there." And she waves her arm as she strides forward.

Attention is drawn away from a squabble over whose to go down the slide first between two young toughs, but not before he notes that a little lass has both their mouths drop as she seems to duck underneath their arms and go down on her belly. That at least, has the ice melt, his lips twitching as if he was about to remark on the antics. Yet, he doesn't, due to the fact that his dark brown gaze is thoroughly ripped away at the 'there she is' from Thea. One can visibly see him rising up on the balls of his toes, straining his neck, trying to get a sneak peak of the girl from the distance despite that he's being brought to her side. Well, his steps shift between quickening and catching himself to fall back in line with Thea. His eyes pan between both the Weyrwoman and the lass named Laurali. The long thin dark hair pooling around the light blue jacket does grab his attention, though so does the girl's size… was she too small? Too young perhaps? "I hope she doesn't mind someone else gawking at her-" he notes, since the gossip has mentioned the visit of the Fortian Weyrleaders, which no doubt fits in pieces of other news heard upon the tides of talk.

Boot tip descends again to press into the mulch and give an idle push that starts the motion of swinging but not enough momentum to really keep her going and Laurali doesn't seem to be all that focused on the activity anyhow. Over the din of the other children playing, at the sound of a voice calling her name, rather then perk up with obvious innocent interest, she acts more like a spooked animal. Head darts up, eyes wide and her posture tense and on edge, as if ready for flight at any given moment. They fixate on that waving arm and as the figures approach and features are easily distinguishable, there's obvious relief in the young child when she recognizes Thea. The Weyrwoman she has come to hesitantly trust and likely with some help from others during her stay within the Weyr. Slipping off the swing, Laurali offers a shy smile and an equally shy greeting, "Weyrwoman Thea," And with a subtle tilt of her head, the girl looks up at A'dmar and noting his observant stare, instantly shrinks back. She's a little small for one her age, somewhere between eight and ten Turns, features plain and unremarkable save for her eyes and hair. Now that she's being tended to properly, she has gained some weight and doesn't seem as bony as before. Uncertain, Laurali drops her gaze from the bronzerider, nervously fidgeting at the ends of her sleeves. "H-Hello," she offers tentatively to him, uncertain what else to do. Even from the few words spoken, there's a hint of a thick northern accent in her tone. It's not easily pinpointed, but it's there and betrays her true heritage as being not from Xanadu soil.

In the course of scanning the playground, all the squabbling give-and-take of the young ones is noticed and a half-smile forms on the Weyrwoman's lips despite the serious nature of this errand. Her own two offspring are there and she notes automatically with the maternal-radar all mothers are equipped with that they're not currently causing any trouble, but she isn't here to see them right now. What concerns her is Laurali and the child's reaction is what she was afraid of. Out of the corner of her mouth she asides to the tense A'dmar, "Relax and try to smile a little? You're making her nervous." She wills her own posture to relax more and her smile is bright, striving to make it as genuine as possible - and for the most part it is. She's pleased to see the child is gaining weight, if not flourishing like she'd like her to, at least the clothes she's wearing aren't hanging off of her anymore. More easily than she feels, she says, "Laurali, this is A'dmar. He has a few questions for you but nothing to be worried about."

Even before Thea has chided him to relax, he's slipped down low into a crouch, one foot a bit further in front of the other to keep him balanced and without a hint of a wobble to it. He's perfectly in control of his stance, though this immediately gets rid of the threat of him hovering over the girl as she shrinks back. Although his expression seems dismayed by her age, he still wears a quiet smile for her - which for Thea, would be shocking to see no doubt! He says something in a tongue not from Xanadu but from a place far in the barren wastes of the deserts and snowy mountain peaks, belonging to the nomad clans that wander the Northern ranges. It'll sound oddly like a thick rumble, but quick, with distinct fluctuations and tongue rolls. His eyebrows quirk up to see if the girl would respond. If she understands, he would've said: ‘The sun may not be shining, but it is a fair greeting we have’. If she doesn't, he'll say gently in a tongue all understand, "It is good to meet you Laurali." He'll consider her features, his eyes squinting with a closer inspection, though never making it other than comfortable. "Thea invited me to come meet you, incase you were one of my clansmen from far up North. They hardly stray down from their wanderings. You do have a look of the north about you, is that were you come from Laurali?"

Laurali's eyes dart quickly to Thea when the Weyrwoman addresses her again and the reassurance is taken to heart enough to keep the girl from completely shutting herself off from A'dmar or worse, feeling or pointedly making it known she wants no business with the strange bronzerider. Given the recent events surrounding her arrival here, it's no wonder the young girl holds such a deep mistrust of older men, rider or not. So it would be no surprise that the child slowly gravitates towards Thea's side, all the while keeping a subtle (or not so subtle) track on the other even as he crouches down to be on her level. Tilting her head up, there are a thousand questions in those wide eyes of hers and all wanting to be directed to the Weyrwoman. But the girl bites her lip and drops her head down again; only to peer at the one she now has a name for. If Thea claims it's good and safe, then she'll accept that. She tilts her head a bit to the curious tongue A'dmar suddenly speaks, apprehension replaced by puzzlement and then innocent curiosity. It's almost clear from the start that the child doesn't comprehend a word of the dialect, but for the familiar one it earns him a weak smile. "So you're a friend of Thea's?" she asks, drawling some of her words, silent once he squints at her for closer inspection. This time she doesn't shy away, but a small step inches her that much closer to the Weyrwoman. Something in A'dmar's questioning upsets her though and a guilty look mars her features. "Not one of the Stonehaven's?" she blurts out, "I don't know no other northern clans…" She trips a bit over the unfamiliar term, her frown deepening as she grows more uncertain by the second. "Just holders and traders and I am from the northern part of Fort. 'Da never…never told me /where/. Just "northern Fort"…" And then she's peering between both riders, as if seeking reassurance. Is this what they want?

Thea, too has knelt so as to be on eye level with the child and when Laurali sidles towards her, offers a one-armed sort of shelter-solace. Awkward and frightening she knows this must be, and so strives for a casual air she's far from feeling herself. A'dmar earns first a glance of approval for hunkering down then a double-take as he smiles, the transformation of his features causing her a sharp intake of breath. "You really should do that more often," she says under her breath to him before offering Laurali a gentle squeeze of that arm should the girl have allowed it to loop around her. If she's surprised at the use of his native tongue, she doesn't show it. But neither does her face show that she might recognize of what the meaning is although as before, there is keen interest in the cadence, the rise and fall of pitched notes that fall from his lips. She seeks to reassure Laurli, "A'dmar was from Igen's deserts, Laurali." Hrm. How to define the association with the heretofore prickly brinzerider. Is he a friend? Her green eyes slide sidelong towards A'dmar at the child's question. "Well, let just say we've been though some things together," she finally decides, "and Xanadu does business with him." And though she does give the child a smile of reassurance for her answers, her gaze one again slides questioningly towards the other rider. Is this who he's looking for?

Hopes dwindle and fade as the girl fails to respond to his words. Even through trial and torment, a member of his nomad people would know some words, especially a few he touched on. They would say it if they heard it. There is a cooling of the intensity that was in his eyes as Laurali only looks on as if having never heard such words before in her life. That there seals it for him. His dark eyes toward Thea's own, shaking his head once he earns her eye contact. A silent dismissal, the girl not his own. Still, Laurali does have his attention as she asks him a question in turn, and he doesn't hesitate, "Yes, Thea is a friend. She is a very special woman. She makes sure that everyone is safe and happy. She is loved by those here." A faint trace of a smile for Laurali, since she has made her way over toward Thea, as if Thea were her mother hen. He stays crouched, rubbing at his one thigh a bit, where the wound had been taken. "No, I am not a Stonehaven. My family's name is Quoin, and they are holdless, but from choice of a thousand Turns long gone." Or so the stories go. A frown overtakes him for a brief moment, replaced by a richer tone, one belonging to a storyteller, "They never travel the same roads twice. They always go where no one would wish to follow and find places none else would see. They are traders, so you might have seen them, if you know the north the way most people don't." He pauses to see if she catches on, continuing even if she doesn't, "They dress themselves in ways none else do, some with plenty of cloth, some with barely any. They paint their faces too and the women, some of the paint they wear on their face makes them look so beautiful and strange, almost like an animal. And the men, they look like me, but with more hair and not so plain of clothes." He regards her with an understanding smile, "Thea asked me here to meet you, because my daughter has been missing for some time now and I've been searching for her. You're with good people Laurali and thank you, for allowing me to meet you."

That one-armed shelter and solace is taken by Laurali without hesitation once offered and there is irony there, considering how terrified she was of Thea not so long ago. Again, the Weyrwoman will get a curious upwards glance for her reassurances and the girl again is calmed and soothed by the reply she receives. "Igen? That's… far." Meaning she doesn't know exactly where, but her Harper lessons should be catching her up to speed quick enough. There's a nod given to the explanation of the relationship, the child too young to question further and simply accepting it as the truth. It seems plausible after all. What A'dmar adds in only earns another faint and shy smile. "I know" she chimes in softly, sheepishly and now the tables turn as the young girl peers curiously at the bronzerider. Now that she's deemed him not a threat, she's coming out of her shell a little. Especially when he spins his tale, Laurali looks almost enraptured by it all. "I never known holdless like that or traders!" she admits, likely already coming up with some rather colorful imaginings of what they would have looked like. There's relief there too, to know he's not a Stonehaven and now she doesn't hover so close to Thea's side. A sad look is given to A'dmar then, one only a child her age would make out of innocence and simply reacting so truthfully to what is shared and spoken. "Hope you find her," Laurali offers and then some children can be heard calling for her. Sheepishly, she looks up to both Weyrwoman and bronzerider for permission to leave. Once she has it, she'll remember her manners long enough to bob her head in a hasty farewell before moving away, slowly at first and then with more enthusiasm once she recognizes /who/ called her.

If Laurali had recognized the man, cried out something like, 'Da!' or 'Father!' Well. There could have been awkwardness and probably further trauma for Laurali should the Weyrwoman do the 'right thing' by calling her guards and notifying Fort that a renegade had escaped the island he'd been exiled to. Ah, but would Thea have done it? The Weyrwoman doesn't remark on any of that, however. That the bronzerider isn't the girl’s father, hence a renegade, is a huge weight off her mind, not that they'd know it. Instead there is an almost palpable relief mingled with disappointment for them both. "His little girl was taken away, Laurali. I was hoping to help him find her." Then gently to the Iernian, she murmurs, "I'm sorry A'dmar. For both your sakes, I'd hoped…" And when Laurali is called, her arm drops, releasing her, "Go on. Go play." And she's given a warm smile.

A'dmar gives a soft chuckle for her sudden enthusiasm for his story, "Yes, I believe that's the point. They won't be seen unless they want you to see them. And when they come out, they dress in all the rich and fancy colors of the desert, in soft fabrics that catch the sun in a glimmer of waves down their skirts or in rough furs that wrap around them with so many belts you wonder if they wear anything underneath!" There is a wink given to her, but he isn't about to go on about it, considering she next offers him some hope, "One day the sun and the moons shall rise at the same time, perhaps then, I will look out across the world and see her." Maybe if there was more, he fails to say it, allowing her to go hurry off to chase down the one who called out for her. His eyes track her for a moment before they close with a downward hold of his head, that anxiety leaving him for the emptiness that has become his constant companion. Then he starts to move, pushing himself up from the crouched position, shaking his head at Thea, "It's alright Thea. I've gone through this a thousand times before. Perhaps," he doesn't say it, no, he trails off, he will not believe she is dead. Never. "She's a pretty girl… You think she'll stay at Xanadu? Take you for a mom?"

Thea also watches Laurali scamper off, but for a different reason than A'dmar does. She watches closely to see the interaction between peers, blowing out a satisfied breath as the two meet up, then she rises slowly. Lingering and watching would only make things awkward for the child and so the Weyrwoman turns back towards the Weyr, strolling this time without hurry, eyes downcast on the paved path, deep in thought. "You never know what a chance encounter will bring, A'dmar," she says to ward off that unfinished thought of his. "Someday… you'll be at just the right place and time and there she'll be: your lost daughter." The question he asks brings a startled glace upward. "I… I hadn't thought about fostering her myself. The poor child really needs someone with much more time to nurture her than I have; she's been through a lot in her young life." There's a regretful sigh, "And someone warmer and less gruff than D'had is. I think he'd terrify her, honestly." That her own two thrive despite their father's taciturn nature speaks volumes for their resiliency and sense of security.

"I never knew you were interested in stories, Thea," A'dmar gives her a quiet tease, that really lacks the muster it should, having to pause to stretch out the leg that had the limp, working his hands over the thigh before he moves to rejoin Thea. Indeed, there was no need to keep the girl with awkward glances. It wasn't his daughter, but she was someone's. "Do you think, someone is looking for Laurali as hard as I am for my own?" A glance over his shoulder, not that he expected to see her now that their steps had guided them back along toward the Weyr, with the fog acting as curtain to another chapter. "She will be stronger for it-" he notes of Thea's regretful sigh, "-if she gets the proper support. If not, she will be fighting her memories throughout her adult life." His eyes dart over toward Thea then, "I appreciate that you allowed me to see for myself, any other way I would've been left wondering."

"Oh I am," assures Thea about stories and her interest in them. "The one you told me about your clan's encounter with Igen Weyr was fairly riveting, although you left out the part about your daughter. Written down, that would be a book for a harper's tale. Only if you find her, though. I'm a sucker for happy endings." She winces as the words leave her lips; he's still estranged from is people and she knows that's not likely to ever change. His question regarding the young Laurali stops her dead in her tracks, she meets his eyes with a somber expression in hers as the answer to that is then given starkly, "No." Her lips press into a flat, unhappy line. "No one seeks the child. Her mother is dead. And she says her father was taken away to exile. The two are not permitted to visit; I’ve already asked." And yet when he mentioned at Western’s hatching that he searches for his daughter, Thea asked him to come here to see the child. How curious.

"It enthralled a man named R'gui once, the stories I told him. I fear he fell in love with them and in turn," yeah he won't say it, but he goes on with a shake of his chin, "The stories are better left untold, so that my family can continue their traditions unmolested. Otherwise, I fear I'd be sending them curious visitors eager with pen and parchment in hand." He notes the wince but doesn't scold her for saying the truth of it, letting a hand run through his hair once and then play down the length of the scarf he wears, "How would we know what happy endings are, if there aren't those who have to face otherwise?" He was trying hard, but every day the weariness of his search grew, every day his resolve was weakening. It had been Turns and Pern was so vast he could spend the rest of his days looking, always being one step behind. "At least Laurali will have a chance at a happier outcome." Then Thea's sudden stop has him peering at her, curious, "Exile is not always enduring. Men have been known to slip away and turn up later at the head of a renegade band. Is he a threat to her or your Weyr, her father?"

Yeah, it sort of goes without saying and since he’s dropping the subject awkwardly, Thea doesn't ask. "I can understand feeling that way," she goes on to say about leaving his people unknown to the world. "Still, it is a pity; they would look amazing illustrated in a book. I know I wouldn't be able to put it down." She merely snorts about knowing other than happiness. If she had her way, there would be no sadness and loss. But she has her own unspoken reasons for that sentiment and also knows it isn't always possible. Life will hit you like that. "They do escape, but I doubt he will. Those islands are chosen pretty carefully," she says before shaking her head about Laurali’s father being a danger. "I have no idea; I don't know what he is supposed to have done." She resumes walking, admitting, "In retrospect, I realize you couldn't have been her father - you've been a rider longer than she's been alive. But you should know that I was willing - for her sake - to chance it. I think she needs him."

The man's shoulder rises gently at the awkward subject being dropped, "They would make great illustrations… Some people think I dress oddly, but I've suited our style to be normal - their style is quite, hrm, barbaric." Yes, that word does seem suitable when he uses it that way. "I am sure R'gui had written it somewhere, all of what I had to tell him, but where ever his notebook is, it died with him. Man would've been a great harper had he not been a rider." A'dmar continues walking with Thea, his eyes picking out which weyrfolk were the guards, despite their disguises, noting casually, "You should tell them not to be so obvious in how they move and walk, or look at people." He pointedly regards one in particular whose eyes were showing suspicion to everyone who passed. A'dmar mutters quietly, "A father's perseverance may surprise you. Islands are not prisons to those who can sail the water, unless you mean to have them constantly guarded by men, but even men, can be swayed with promises of wealth or land." He sounds as if he knows what he's talking about, "The man who got me with his dagger-" here his hand goes to his thigh, "was none other than a father who meant to keep his daughter. A situation like Laurali's… except the woman was not clouded of mind." His eyes stretch out toward the path they walk, wondering if he should've went that far with his words, but they were spoken and she had heard them all the same. The last has him nod solemnly, "I could've, my daughter I brought into this world as a rider, weyrmated to a woman I called a wife," he rolls his shoulder, "It did not hurt to have me hope for a day or two." There was sympathy there on his face for Thea and the girl both, "Don't be fooled by her age either. You say she's nine… ten? She'll always remember who her father is, even if his face begins to fade, she'll remember her father was taken away from her, all the same."

Sincerely, "I'd love to meet them sometime." Fairy-tale! Not remotely possible! Thea knows that. Still… A'dmar’s comment pulls her from her reverie and she glances up to follow his line of sight to the guards. Back to him she has a shrewd look in her ice green eyes. "They haven't really had the sort of training to… to…" What's the word she's looking for? "Be covert. Are you volunteering for the job?" Regarding island prisons, she merely whooshes a breath through her nose, the soft snort not quite a laugh. "My guess is they picked somewhere with more rock than trees so boat-building isn't possible. And they're out of shipping lanes where even the pirates don't frequent. Still, I'm not sure I'd want them escaping. The man we're looking for wiped out an entire hold, men, women and children." His comment about the knife-wound receives a keen glance and a knitting of dark brows. "What on Pern have you been up to A'dmar? Kidnapping instead of delivery?" She's half-joking, but he's been stabbed so who knows? As for Laurali, she nods, "Oh yes. I know she will remember. She said as much to the Fort Weyrleaders and it was a big part of why she didn't trust any of us, poor child."

To that, he says naught. It is like she never said the words or that his ears never caught them. A stoney wall of silence and a hardened expression, as bleak as the foggy day they were wading through. As for the guards, that was a different matter completely. He does snort at the suggestion that he would be volunteering for it, shaking his head, "Not my priority… or responsibilitiy…" tone gruff, his head juts back as his fingers glide down his buttoned vest, "I do apologize… I offer advice to fix a problem but I do not offer a solution, that bodes ill of me." And that is were he leaves his advice on guarding, as Xanadu must see to it for he is not one of them. Rather, he does give a half smirk, "Perhaps you should read those stories some more, I think you missed out on the chapters of daring rescues, although, some would call it a kidnapping, depending which side you read it from." A look toward his lifemate who has appeared out of the mists as silently as a dragon can, blazed fiery muzzle cracking through the foggy grey landscape. He turns then to stop Thea, half bowing his head, "My hour here is at its end." A pause, "Keep me informed of how the girl gets on. Those of us born holdless see life a different way, a way that never truly leaves us just because we are in a Weyr." Yes, he knew at once the girl had been part of the holdless, that is clear in his last remark. "May the sun shine on the tough days ahead. Weyrwoman, good eve." It would be wise to withdraw then, since Yarovith is slithering forward, looking to command the area with his black-bronzen hulk.

Yeah, yeah, Thea knows. Sadly, the man is estranged from his people so he won't be taking her to see them. Still, being honest; she would love to! About the guards, "We'd pay you! But yes, I'm sure you are very busy. Recommend someone to me?" He must know by now he'd receive a commission from Xanadu for the referral. The Weyrwoman doesn't dwell on it, however. She smiles then, pale eyes crinkling in real humor. "A rescue, hmm?" If the man is anything like her sire, well. She can understand that! "Oh she was from a hold… in the beginning. But yes, quite understandable living holdless will affect a person." As for Yarovith, her steps do not do more than pause for the second it takes not to run into A'dmar. She greets the dark flame bronze with a formal bow, passing by his muzzle within inches as she makes her way calmly by. Her own lifemate is enough to quell any threat, intended or not and she knows this. "And for you, A'dmar. May your search bear fruit. Be well." The fog closes behind her.

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