Plans on Ice

Xanadu Weyr - Weyrling Beach

With a gentler slope to the water from the main beach and the way it is cut in like a cove, this is the most sheltered spot for bathing. The sand is the same white hue, there are just as many — or perhaps more — scattered shells. From here, one has a beautiful view across the lake, a scene more often tranquil than not.

The snow still rests on the ground, though it has melted some since its initial deposition. Visible against the stark white is Faraeth's craggy brown bulk being oiled by M'nol's slight form. Four firelizards play in the distance, tossing a small snowball between them. The wind kicks up and M'nol shelters under Faraeth's wing for a moment until it dies down, then goes back to oiling the dragon's fast-growing form.

Wandering the beach, the trader girl stops and plucks as shiny rocks which catch the light. Espenetta pauses though, the brown catches her attention.

Beaches. What is it with him and beaches lately? Never has Sigam felt himself this drawn to the sea, even back when he practiced it as a craft, but there's something about the undulating waves today that's helping him deal with, well, himself. Over his head spirals a blue firelizard that, when tilted right, blends in completely with the sky, and at his heels quietly paces a long-limbed red and white puppy. "Come on and wade, way out into the water with me, we're drowning on dry land~. Come on and wade way out into the water with me, jump in and take my hand," he murmurs with a hint of a song beneath the words, kicking at a bit of snow that's built up on the sand. BARK! Recognizing Sabhrilline's 'people are here' noise, Sigam looks landwards, raising one hand to hoot towards the tasking M'nol. "Hey!" Jogging over, the man seems as if he's about to say something when Espenetta appears in his line of vision. The Dragonhealer offers her a wave, but his puppy seems much more friendly, and can be found wriggling her way, tail wagging.

M'nol looks up when the puppy barks, then spots Sigam through the snow and waves, "Hey Siggy! What brings you out here on this cold day?" Faraeth gives a bugle of welcome as well, recognizing someone he knows. Neither of them seem to notice Espenetta. It's not intentional, she's hidden from clear sight behind a snowdune.

She looks around at bugle. Espenetta peers around the snow bank, "Hello?" she asks, softly, though once her eyes alight on the rider and other person she smiles.

"I honestly don't know," Sigam laughs as he finally pulls up near M'nol, eyes dancing as he reaches a hand out to offer scratches to Faraeth. "Hello, little brown lad. I'm glad to see you too. He's treating you well, right?" The words are directed towards Farry, but a wink's tossed at the ex-miner for his benefit. He can tell the boy's been taking good care of his dragon, but he can't help but tease. "H'lo there?" Sigam leans to the side a bit to meet Espenetta's eyes, and a small wave of greeting is offered. The canine, meanwhile, has reached the trader girl and is staring up at her with wiiide gold-brown eyes. Peeeeet meeeeeee, she seems to be saying.

Espenetta awws, well its more 'wahh' sound she makes. She crouches down to pet the dog with such enthusiasm. "Hello." she says avertying her eyes for a moment.

Faraeth stretches his neck out and touches Sigam's forehead with his nose, bespeaking for the other man's benefit with the gentle caress of purple velvet,

Faraeth stretches his neck out and touches Sigam's forehead with his nose, bespeaking for the other man's benefit with the gentle caress of purple velvet, « Hello, healy-man. Do you want to inspect me again? » M'nol giggles, then waves to Espenetta, "H'lo? I don't believe we've met."

Espenetta smiles. "Nope, I was in the stands when you impressed." she says. "The name's Espenetta, though Espene's acceptable." she says approach. Her eye for a moment glaze as she blinks over the young dragon brushing her eeyes and wiping away tears

Sigam, for one, is certainly surprised by the brush of the soft fabric voice in his mind, eyes going wide and jaw going perhaps a little slack, even as he reaches up to scratch under the dragon's chin, if the brown will have it. "Well. You ever surprise me, Faraeth. I certainly don't have to inspect you, but if you're up for another round of tickling…" The man lets the sentence trail off, gentle laughter taking its place as he turns to glance between M'nol and Espenetta. "Why is she crying?," the man whispers to Faraeth and M'nol, not really expecting an answer, but he's confused just the same. Sab, who was enjoying her pets, has the decency to retreat back to her human, but does watch Espenetta closely in case she decides to offer scratches again.

M'nol shrugs, looking at the strange girl, "Maybe she had a sibling on the sands?" Faraeth gives a draconic rumble and M'nol chuckles, "He says no tickling, but if you want to rub him or scratch his ridges, he'd love that."

Sigam 'ah's, nodding in what can be considered a sagely manner. "That must be it. That or it's, you know, that time. Of the month." The Dragonhealer is so versed in the ways of women, after all. Ha! "That I can definitely arrange," the man says, turning away from the rather strange strand of conversation to reach up to the brown's eyeridges in order to give them a thorough scratching. "You're being very friendly today," the Dragonhealer notes to brown and rider, eyebrows raising a bit. "Did you feed him a big bowl of Cheery Soup this morning?"

Faraeth gives a happy rumble, closing his first lids in pleasure. M'nol giggles, but doesn't feel the need to relay the dragon's comment, thinking it obvious, he grins, continuing to oil the brown's hide, "Naw, he just seems to warm up to people the more he sees them." He pauses, then continues, "He says he has to be nice to you because you will fix him if he breaks."

It seems as if poor Espene has been forgotten for the moment, for Sigam's smiling face is wholly devoted to the weyrling pair. "I'm going to hazard a guess and say that's a good thing," he laughs, stating the obvious for humor's benefit. "I'm glad he's warming up to people, then. Reticent behavior, while common, isn't entirely becoming of a dragon." It sounds like something quoted out of a text book, but the Dragonhealer delivers it with a chuckle. "I certainly will fix him, or die trying. Which means," he says with a pretend serious look for those lidded eyes, "that you shouldn't get into too much trouble, you hear?" Teasing done for the moment, Sigam shifts his scratching to the area just behind the headknobs, the song from earlier rising in his throat in a hum.

Faraeth rumbles again, shifting so that Sigam can better reach his itchy spots as M'nol chuckles, "Yes, he likes it." M'nol shifts further down the dragon's body, standing on his tip-toes to reach up between Faraeth's neckridges with the oil. He chuckles, "I'm glad he's getting more social too. It's hard to explain to people that he's not mean, he's just picky." M'nol chuckles softly, "He says he'll try not to hurt himself, but, y'know, adventure an' stuff." Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a flit-sized snowball heads straight for Sigam's face followed by chittering.

Scritch, scritch, scritch! The Dragonhealer doesn't let up, allowing the brown to position himself under his hands. "Good! Hate to see what he'd do if he didn't," Sigam comments offhandedly, a smile tucking into a corner of his mouth. "I can see where that'd be a bit of a problem, though, yes. People get rather silly images of dragonriding pairs being either reclusive or always obscenely friendly. I don't know how you lot stand the fishbowl effect of it all." He focuses on the brown hide before him and shrugs. "Well, actually, I see the perks, but still." Another quasi-sagely nod is given. "Of course. I expect some nicks and cuts along the way, but…" He seems to be on the verge of launching into a horror story, but thinks better of it, not wanting to scare them off flying before they can even try it. "Just exercise a bit of caution if you feel like you might be in over your head. S'all I ask," he grins, head tilting when /splat!/, the little snowball gets him right between the eyes. It obviously doesn't hurt, but the resulting cross-eyed look is perhaps on beyond priceless. "What on Pern…" The chittering earns a sharp look from the man, and a finger points. "Watch it, busters. I can lace mine with numbweed."

Faraeth continues to rumble, shifting here and there, and M'nol continues to oil, moving his way down the brown's side, but he does manage to node to Sigam as he does, a wry grin on his face, "Yeah, it's tough always havin' 'ssumptions 'bout 'how brownriders behave' thrown about. But he's gettin' better." oil oil. rumble rumble. "I'll make sure he doesn't break himself too much. Especially not without a good reason." He may have been about to say something else, but the fire-lizard snowball has him chuckling even as his flits lob another at Sigam's head and chitter to his blue in a 'come join us, or we'll keep pelting him' way.

"Good for him. Pretty soon, he'll be entirely his own entity, and then people won't be able to say anything." Sigam speaks proudly of the brown, reaching up on his tiptoes to get between the 'ridges, a smile stretching out on his face. "I am satisfied then," he teases, but is quickly forced to duck behind Faraeth's bulk as the firelizard-y barrage continues. Calelir does swoop down to join the others, but it certainly isn't to halt their play! Instead, the blue scoops up his own snow and gets Sigam right in the arm. Bad move!, the flit realizes a second too late, as with a grunt, Sigam stoops, scoops, packs, and hurls a snowball twice his size at the Cloak of Mists, who can't seem to get away fast enough. With an expression that can only be defined as "D8," the little creature is thoked soundly and shoved into the nearby drift with the sheer force of the speeding orb of snow. "Anybody else want some?" Another snowball is already being packed in his hands.

M'nol nods, "I'm hopin' he's frien'ly jus' 'cause it's easier that way." He chuckles again as snowballs fly, his own flits, smart enough to back down, start digging Calelir out of the snowbank. But it's possible they're plotting a counter attack. M'nol chuckles again and gives Faraeth a soft pat, "Farry says that you're a good scratcher and wonders if you have one of him."

"It certainly is easier. Being angry or sad seems to cause all kind of problems these days." The words are said through a smile, but the tone of his voice indicates that it's something Sigam has been warring with for the better part of two weeks now. "Might have to take up a vow of good cheer and kill 'em all with kindness, yanno?" Sigam chuckles, sniffing dismissively at the firelizards as he drops his snow, wiping hands on his pants before he resumes his attentions on Faraeth. Calelir, meanwhile, springs up as they free him like a freakin' daisy, eyes whorling with a blue and reddish yellow to indicate that of course you know, this means WAR! Chirping quietly to the others, he seems to indicate that they should attempt a covert operation, some going airborne, the others sneaking along the ground to get the Dragonhealer back good and proper! Hnf!

Faraeth rumbles again, stretching his neck out for Sigam. M'nol nods to him, "Yeah, he's friendly and social enough once he decides he can trust someone. I'd hate to see what woul happen if someone did prove untrus'worthy." He blushes slightly, "I know Cen's turnday is coming up soon… d'ya know when an' where?" Agate, Bloodstone, Tourmaline, and Jasper chirp back equaly conspiratorily. If we work together we can make and carry a much bigger ball!

Sigam considers M'nol for a second before his gaze flicks seriously over Faraeth's form. He's still giving scratches, but it's pensively now. "You'll have to help him learn to shrug it off." A hand pats the craggy brown hide. "Hear that? A thousand stupid opinions isn't worth the one of you, and don't let anyone tell you differently." Uhm. Aww? Eyeing that blush, the Dragonhealer seems more like himself than serious!dadlike!Sigam, a smirk arching up his lips. "I didn't even know it was coming up. I'm not exactly her favorite person right now." He pauses, then blinks. "We should find out though, and plan a surprise party for her or something." Calelir, considering the other's proposal, nods and begins the packing of such a glorious weapon of mass destruction! Quite the brilliant idea, really.

Faraeth whufs, blowing some snow up onto Sigam as he does. M'nol chuckles and says, "He says nothing's worth one of him, but he doesn't want them to hurt me." He grins again, rubbing oil into the underside of Faraeth's belly, "We should. Maybe we shoul' get Thea's help t' organize? She's good at organizin' an' then I c'n give Cen tha' stuffed runner she wants." He blushes a tidge again. Agate and Bloodstone dove in wililngly helping Calelir construct their giant siege weapon of a snowball while Tourmaline and Jasper kept watch on the humans, making sure they weren't discovered. Of course it was a good idea.

Sigam laughs, wiping away the snow with a falsely dismayed expression. "Now look at what you've done." Still grinning, he shakes his head. "How considerate of you, Faraeth. Least we know M'nol's grown a backbone, hm?" A more serious expression flirts with Sigam's features at the mention of Thea, but after a moment, he begins to nod. "Yeah, I think she might like that. We should mention it to her." A mischevious glance. "Still haven't given up on her, hm?" With a quiet coo, Calelir declared their weapon complete! Then, he blinks a pair of eyelids, head tilting. Now what? Did they between it into the air and let it drop, or try and fly it up without being seen?

The rumble earns a smile from Sigam, but the expression is brief. He's not exactly sad, per se, but there's definitely a high level of gravity all of a sudden. "I understand more than you know," the Dragonhealer mutters, head shaking even as he gives a rueful grin. "What is it about women that they're so bewitching like that?" The question is obviously rhetorical, but he ponders through it anyways. "Just hate to love them, love to hate them, but in the end, the love's all that's left." A bark of laughter is given. "Some days I wish I'd been born a eunuch." A dancing eyebrow waggle indicates that's purely in jest - he likes his man parts, thankyouverymuch - but it's fun to consider at any rate. Chee! Meanwhile, Cal's considered and approved of this idea. Digging his little claws in and leaving enough room for the others to grab ahold, he begins to beat his little wings, and slowly, surely, the 'mammoth' snowball begins to lift…

M'nol chuckles softly, "I know most o' what y' jus' said was pretty serious, but… what's a eunuch?" He moves a few more feet down the dragon's side, nearly reaching the tail. The other four flits dig their claws in as well, carefully, so as not to cause it to crumble, and it raises further into the air.

Sigam's face falls into a grave expression, a solemn nod bobbing his head up and down quite slowly. "Oh yes. Very, very serious." Unfortunately, the Dragonhealer can't hold the look, and ends up busting into a laugh at the innocent question. "A eunuch is a man whose parts have been surgically removed, usually. Used to be so they would make good body guards for women - strong, borderline beefy, but they couldn't do anything untowards to her." A wink. "Sounds downright frustrating to me, but it apparently used to be a common practice back on Terra Firma." Finally, when the snowball was high enough, Calelir gives the commanding cheep and the lot of the blink /between/, reappearing a second later right above Sig's head.

M'nol's eyes get really big and he splutters, "Bu'… why woul' anyone do tha' t' themselves?" Before he can splutter out anymore, Faraeth turns and rests his nose gently on the boy's shoulder and after a few beats he calms, stroking the brown's nose gently. "That's just weird." The others follow Calelir's lead and surprisingly manage to stay in formation as they appear, then loose their claws allowing the siege weapon to drop.

Sigam laughs long and loud at the expression on the boy's face, head tossing back a bit. "Oh, no, they didn't do it to themselves! It was done to them. People didn't used to be so kind about allowing personal freedoms. It is, admittedly, very we- KOOF!" Taking advantage of the head-tipping situation, obviously, the massive snowball hits its mark perfectly, shattering off the Dragonhealer's forehead and showering the rest of his face and neck with snow. With a gritted 'EEK' noise, Sigam proceeds to do an impromptu dance, chorousing "it's cold, it's cold!!" as he scoops the offending stuff off his face and out of his collar. Calelir laughs and laughs, in his own firelizard-y way, wings briefly failing him so that he falls, still draconic-snickering, into a pile of snow. "Gonna kill 'em, ach!"

M'nol bursts into a fit of giggles. Faraeth is nicer, he lets out a long, warm breath on the healer, blowing much of the snow off of Sigam and melting and warming most of the rest. M'nol regains himself enough to give an imperative whistle and his flits, looking decidedly pleased with themselves, pop /between/. He grins at Sigam, his oiling having moved on to Faraeth's tail, "I gave them a time out. Sorry about that." He pats Faraeth gently on the rump, then says, "Maybe we should ask Thea to come out here to plot Cen's party."

Relief is evident on Sigam's face as Faraeth gives him a hand…er, breath. "Thanks," he says, wiping away the warm little droplets. A twitchy-eyed look is given to M'nol, as if to say 'you wait, you're next!' Even as the boy sends his flits away, the Dragonhealer ducks to one knee, curls his fingers around a bunch of snow, and then lobs it underhand over Faraeth's tail, hopefully right at the boy. "No problem at all," Sigam says with satisfaction. Even if the snowball misses, his point still would've been proven. He frowns as he considers the next suggestion, then shrugs and shakes his head. "I dunno. Wouldn't want to bother her or anything." Is that a sneaky glance he has going on, as if looking for available exits? Maybe.

Faraeth blinks hugely at Sigam and gives a little, you're-welcome-snort. M'nol begins to laugh, then stops as he's hit full-chest with the damp snowball. "Perhaps not, maybe I'll just have Faraeth ask if she's available?" He grabs a handful of snow and lobs it back over Faraeth at Sigam, an impish grin on his face.

Sigam, who has just successfully launched a snowball and hit M'nol on the chest, crows a victory. Target neutralized! "Yeah, wouldn't want it to seem like it's an emergency or anything. It'd be a shame to, ah, drag them away from something important." Whatever that is, he doesn't get a chance to explain as he tucks to one side and gets clipped across the shoulder by the return fire. "Oh, you're in for it now, boy!" Gathering snow on the run, the Dragonhealer laughs and bunches it in his hands, does a dramatic turn around the front of Faraeth, and then pitches the ball over a wing at M'nol.

M'nol tries to dodge, but still catches most of the snow on his shoulder. He's about to retaliate again when Faraeth gives a stomping bugle and projects as loudly as he can, the velvet threadbare and dark, « Stop using me as a fort!!!!! » His eyes have begun to whirl with reds and oranges. M'nol drops his handful of snow and immediately begins stroking the brown, "Sorry, Farry, just got caugh' up in th' moment." The brown calms, but seems to regard them both with unhappy eyes.

Any snow that was in Sigam's hands promptly falls out of his spread fingers, a concerned and wide-eyed look aimed towards Faraeth. "I'm sorry," the Dragonhealer murmurs, slouching his shoulders back in an 'I'm harmless, promise!' gesture honed from long years of working with angry dragons. There's still a defiant glimmer in his eyes, but it's more calculating, assessing, than admonishing. "You could have said please." With a sigh, the man sets into the task of brushing the snow off his sleeve, nudging Calelir with his nose as the blue settles onto his shoulder with a creel of concern for his larger draconic counterpart.

Faraeth blinks hugely, color returning to the velvet as his eyes slow their whirling motion, « Sorry… » He nudges Sigam with his nose as well, gently, then blinks at Calelir, « Be calm, little one. » M'nol chuckles, moving to keep up his stroking of Faraeth's head and nose, "You'll be fine, Farry." He makes eye contact with Sigam, then rolls his eyes. Silly dragon.

Coming down off his adopted high horse, Sigam smiles and relaxes, shaking his head even as he runs his hands gently over that nudging nose. "Don't be sorry. You just scared me a bit," he admits with a wink. "And when I'm scared around dragons, I can't afford to look like an edible piece of bait, so I get grumpy." Patpat. "I'm sorry, too, sincerely." Smiling over at M'nol, the Dragonhealer raises and lowers one shoulder in a 'what can ya do' shrug. Nothing yet, especially when they're so young. Calelir's voice turns soft with a croon as he leans in, patting the brown's nose himself in an imitation of Sig's gesture. With a laugh, the man leans his head over to outright nuzzle the little blue, true affection for the little beast sparkling in his brown eyes. Can I get an 'awwwwww?'

Thea has been standing by the corner of the Weyrling Barracks observing all this for some time, having walked quietly, unannounced by Seryth, for the gold is not with her presently. She's in her fur-lined riding leathers and boots, dark hair tumbling out either side of her pulled-up hood, one shoulder leaned against the side of the Barracks wall, hands jammed in her pockets, just taking it all in. Although the green eyes are sober as they have been of late, there is a bit of an amused quirk to her lips. "Shoulda just ate him, Faraeth." Her tone is dry, but it could be discerned she's trying not to laugh.

M'nol jumps when Thea's voice suddenly comes out of nowhere. Faraeth, on the other hand, simply blinks at her. There's a beat, then M'nol chuckles, "Faraeth says that they'd get stuck between his teeth." Faraeth graciously allows both Sigam and Calelir to stroke his nose, making only a quiet hmmm in his throat. M'nol gives Thea a lopsided grin, "We were just talkin' about you."

An all-too familiar voice snaps Sigam's eyebrows into a raised position, and though he has to lean a bit, his eyes are quick to verify that it is Thea on the other side of the brown, leaning oh-so-smugly against the barracks. Wrinkling is nose and sticking out his tongue, the Dragonhealer quips, "Who asked you?" As if to emphasize this teasing dismissal, he stands straight, shifting to the opposite side of Faraeth to give him the same scritching treatment as before, starting with the eyeridges and working back. Sensing a task he can help with, Cal takes a leap onto the brown's head and uses his little claws to itch the spaces along the 'ridges that always bother /him/. "He's being awful helpful," Sig comments suspiciously to Faraeth, but maybe it's recompense for the dropped snowball earlier. "You make us sound like a pair of gossiping aunties," Sigam laughs at M'nol, but he's nodding. "Uncanny that you should appear, though. Almost magic or something." Wink.

Thea chuckles at M'nol's translation, then blinks with mild surprise, "You… were?" Still that faint smile, but one brow raises with suspicion. There's a mutter under her breath that sounds something like, "Shardin' proddy stuff!" Sigam's boyish face has her looking yet more smug before his comment has her wary. "So… let's hear it. What do you want to heckle me for?" Her tone is simply devoid of any emotion, with nothing by a weary patience. That smile fades, but the line of her shoulders is relaxed and there's no grouchy look, just a 'let's get it over with' expression.

M'nol quirks an eyebrow, thoroughly confused by Thea's behavior. Bloodstone pops out of /between/, ending his timeout early to see why M'nol is so confused, and lands on Thea's shoulder if she'll let him, stroking her cheek gently. M'nol's expression softens for all he has no idea what's bothering her, and he says, "Why woul' I wanta heckle ya, Thea? We were jus' discussin' th' fact tha' Cen's Turnday is comin' up in a sevenday or two and we thought you might want to help us throw her a surprise party." Faraeth willingly submits to Calelir and Sigam's ministrations, enjoying the scritches quite a bit, both lids slipping shut.

Sigam's own form is defeated, if nothing else, and he keeps hard to his task, focusing on pleasing Faraeth with a single-minded quality. If he's caught her muttered oath or is just picking up on her mood, it's hard to tell, but his words are only for the brown as he murmurs, "Feels good, hm?" Calelir's shifted down his back to give wing joints a light buffer with hind paws, but the tender muscles suddenly put him in a different mood. Yawning as greatly as a budgie-sized flit can, he twirls once in a circle before plopping down to take a nap, using Faraeth's shoulder as a pillow. Sigam isn't quite as pacified, and at the mention of being heckled, he looks at Thea in the tone of voice that suggests she should definitely know better than that. "Yeah. We're not all that original in our plans, and we'd thought you'd have… fun with it." He manages to keep his own voice polite and a crooked smile on his face.

Thea drops her head for a moment after both have spoken, then there's a low-voiced, "I'm sorry guys. It's been a difficult morning. Ran the gauntlet getting here." She turns to give the firelizard a one-fingered scritch and a 'hi there'. From inside her hood, brown Shep pokes a sleepy head out from under Thea's dark hair to give the 'lizard a sleepy chirrup before withdrawing back into his hideaway. The weyrwoman swallows a few times, kicking gently at the snow with one toe. Then quietly she muses, "Has it been a turn already?" She lifts her head, glances at M'nol, notes the confusion there, "Sorry, my friend, I cannot explain it, you'll understand in due time." Another glance is leveled towards Sigam with a mixture of apology and unasked questions before she claps her hands, forced brightness in her tone, "So Cenlia's party! Fun. What have you come up with, anything?"

Bloodstone gives a happy chirrup and leans into Thea's finger-scritch. Faraeth shakes his wing experimentally, then decides that Calelir isn't bothering him and goes back to enjoying his scrith as well. M'nol shrugs, having gotten well-used to those kinds of comments from older riders. He gives a lopsided grin, "Not much… party… make it a surprise…" He shrugs, indicating his own ineptitude at such things.

The dropping of her head is the final straw on Sigam's camel's back, and that lofty expression crumbles into something that's a mix of sympathy and sadness. Motion hesitates, he rocks on his toes, and then he's crossing to envelope Thea in a hug. It might in fact be a bit awkward as he attempts not to disturb the firelizards, but a "I'm sorry too" is whispered and accompanied by a gentle squeeze. As he pulls away, his own head goes down, but something she's said has him wearing a teeny smirk as he scratches the back of his neck. "Is there anyone I should be beating up?," he asks, tenuous laughter in his voice. Shaking his head against his own downtrodden fog, the 'healer grins over at M'nol. "Shame you lot can't go very far. It's too cold to have anything outside." A glance is given towards Thea. "I don't have any real ideas myself, but my own stipulations are 'inside' and 'with lots of booze for Cenlia.' What can we do with that." Snicker.

"Mrrflllmnpf!" It's all Thea can get out as she raises her head to find Sigam there and his arms around her - her face is buried in his coat. He steps away, his comment about beating up someone brings a half sob, half-hysterical laugh to her throat. "Kav was always wanting to punch people for-" He lips close firmly on that and with a headshake, she forces her mind to the present, "Sorry, I shouldn't keep on about him." Then her eyes dance just a bit as she answers him, "If you see a visiting bronzer by the name of R'oc, be my guest. He deserves it just for existing." She briskly turns her mind elsewhere, "Not really sure you can do a lot with lots of booze inside other than getting drunk." She ponders on this for a few moments, eyeing M'nol and Sigam before saying slowly, "Weather turns cold enough, we could do something outside on the lake if the water freezes." She muses, "Bonfires here and there onshore… sliding down the hill onto the ice, hot alcoholic drinks like toddy or something…?" She shrugs. "I'm not a big fan of drinking parties to be totally honest with you guys."

Whatever smile Sigam might have dredged up is rather lost in a concerned glance for Thea, unsure how he should take her… sob? Giggle? Both? "Oh," he murmurs, almost relieved that there's an explaination to go with it. "It's okay, I don't mind that you do. Hafta talk to someone, right?" His plastic smile is back in place, an invisible shield slipping over his eyes indicating that he's definitely hiding something away. "I'll definitely give him a piece of my mind," Sigam agrees before glancing up, finally noticing that the sun is no longer at apex. "I should get going," he mutters, shrugging into her suggestion for a party. "I like the sound of that, skating on the lake. There doesn't have to be booze for everyone - just her. Gift, yanno?" He shrugs again, seeming visibly torn, but in the end, he simply reaches out to ruffle M'nol's hair and gives Calelir a whistle. Drowsily, the blue flutters over. "Anyways, uh, nice seeing you both. And you Faraeth. Remember, be strong." There's a low chuckle as he thumps his chest in a manly fashion, and then, with a tilt of his hand, he's jogging towards the weyr.

"You're right, M'nol, it would. It would also get you injured, so wait at least until you graduate, huh?" Thea's kind enough not to say 'and grow some too'. She offers both of them a grateful, if tremulous smile, "I'm honored to have such protective friends, thanks guys." She clears her throat, "Hmm, Tavern party. She did that last year, did you guys know?" There's a slight lift to one shoulder and an unenthusiastic, "Could do it there again." She casts a questioning glance at Sigam, her eyes flickering over that unnatural smile on his mouth, then back up to his eyes, perplexity growing in hers as she sees a shuttered look there. She opens her mouth to speak, but he is suddenly jogging away. She turns, watching his retreat, before looking back at M'nol with puzzlement rife in her tone, "Something bothering him, do you know?" She headtilts in the direction the dragonhealer went.

M'nol shrugs, waving at Sigam's retreating form, "He seemed fine earlier." He thinks, perhaps a little too hard. Is that smoke? "Maybe he likes you. He didn't get all wierd until you mentioned…" He trails off, trying not to prod an already gaping wound. Happy to turn back to the original subject, "I didn' know she did tha' las' yaer, but it seems like an obvious choice fer her. An' then we coul' set th' place up with streamers or paper flowers or summat. An' jump out 'n' yell 'surprise' when she shows up."

Thea's expression doesn't change with M'nol's interpretation, she's still baffled. "Well I like him too, he's a good friend. You're all becoming good friends, you, R'owan, Rhasmir…" She says it easily and there's a genuine smile to go with that. To the rest of his plans, she simply nods. "Could do both ya know. Could play on the ice, then head inside. Decorate the Tavern, have food prepared…" She doesn't launch herself into anything elaborate at the moment, however. "M'nol. I need to go. Seryth wants to do a sweep over towards Landing to see if we can find anything new." She slides an unhappy look at her feet, murmuring, "She's pining for him almost as badly as I am." Lifting her head, she gives him a cheeky grin, "I'll be giving her party some thought though, eh?" Gently she removes his firelizard from her shoulder, hands it over to him and strides off towards her Weyr.

M'nol grins, then Faraeth nudges him. His eyes unfocus for a minute, then he nods, "I'll keep planning, too, but this'un says if I don't get him to his couch soon he'll make me sleep in the snow, so…" He gives a huge yawn, "So, yeah. It was great to see you again, Thea, and I hope things get better." He gives her a grin, then ducks off towards the barracsk, Faraeth right behind him. Bloodstone gives Thea one last lick, then disappears /between/, presumably to join his brethren on M'nol's cot.

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