We're On a Boat
docks.jpg

Xanadu Weyr - Main Docks

Jutting out from the land are the platforms that make up the main dock of Xanadu Weyr. The extruded plastic makes an odd sound when footsteps echo across it. From this dock, two others protrude taking opposite directions, each for a special purpose.


Midday finds Sigam down on the docks, shirtless, bronzing, and… untying a boat? Indeed, his eyes flick around constantly, judging the wind's strength even as he unloops the mooring from around one of the dock posts. A small one-man sailboat wobbles with the motion, sails and riggings clinking quietly against the mast, but this doesn't seem to disturb the Dragonhealer. Whistling a quiet tune, the man tosses the mooring into the boat and stoops to collect his pack, swinging it back and forth, clearly intending to launch it into the vessel. From further down the dock, his little fare of flits stare, heads tilting to and fro most curiously. What was their human doing?

What was /Fy/ doing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Honestly! Except walking down the docks with some munchies, a greasy looking wax-paper bag of fried fritters that she is sharing them with the firelizard on her shoulder, who is making a mess of things. Chu really just loves to tear the crispy skin and then eat the hot insides, anyway. The short brownrider's barefoot, with her loose pants rolled up and her loose shirt just catching the cool breezes. She nearly walks right on by Sigam on her way to the end of the dock when she freezes, and backtracks a few steps. "Running away again?" she asks him, stopping to grin at his boat and his pack.

Sigam nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of a voice. Dedicated to his task (and expecting the sharding firelizards to watch over him, what good were they anyways?), he hadn't been paying all that much attention to his surroundings either. "It's a lake," the Dragonhealer by way of answer, glancing from F'yr to the body of water in question. "There's not much for someone to run away /to/." Thunk!, goes his pack as it lands in the bottom of the boat, momentum pushing the thing a little bit away from the dock. "What about you?," Sig asks, eyes flicking over the brownrider, her snacks, and the firelizard on her shoulder. "No pack, so I guess you're not bustin' out, hm?"

F'yr is snickering at having scared the dragonhealer. These moments were few and far between, and she needed to enjoy them! "But it's a very big lake, and I bet you can get lost on the other side." She looks in that direction, putting a hand over her forehead and squinting as if trying to see the other side aaaall the way over there. Then she turns that hand to point at the edge of the dock. "I was gonna sit over there. I got a dragan and can run away whenever I want… 'course I don't have a boat to do it here anyway." Chu starts leaning down a little to try to paw at Fy's hand for another snack, earning herself a greasy fritter in return as the brownie approaches the dragonhealer's boat more closely. "So what /are/ you doing?"

Sig makes a face up at Fy for her snickering with a muttered 'ha-ha.' "I guess. It's just, after the island, nowhere seems remote anymore." Smirking a bit, he follows her gaze, then her point towards the end of the dock. "I guess you have a point, lucky dog. Us landlubbers have to make do with what we have," the Dragonhealer drawls, backing up a few small steps, eyes refocusing on the boat. "You can always borrow a boat, you know. That's what I'm doing." Leaping forwards, the man launches himself off the dock and lands squarely on the small deck, rocking dangerously until he can balance himself against the mast. "I'm going sailing, and then I'm going to swim. If you think your dock-sitting can wait, you're welcome to come with me," he teases, flashing Fy a grin before he steps across the boom to the other side of the vessel.

"Good point. Can't seem to walk far 'nough 'way from the Weyr after that." F'yr waves a hand back in the direction of the busy buildings though with a grin back at the dragonhealer. "You've got plenty of friends over there, just ask one for a ride." She watches him closely though, leaning on her toes as if ready to go diving after him if he were to fall. She tries not to look /too/ admiring but it shows. Boats were foreign to the brownrider by how she looks it over. "Well, I just wanted to sit next to the water for a bit. I can still do that in your boat!" And she closes her the bag of fritters with her hand, feet at the edge of the dock and then she leaps! Just like him! Except her landing is messy, and she wobbles, and Cachucha gives a shriek halfway through that leap, flying off and chattering angrily.

"Me either! Isn't it sad?" Sigam snickers and glances back that way. "Mm, I suppose I could, but they might stare at me funny if I ask them to dump me off in the lake and come back in an hour or two," he says with a grin even as he coils the dock rope down around his elbow and back up to his hand to gather it. The look on F'yr's face only makes his grin grow wider, brows bouncing in a cocky fashion. "It's even more fun in a boat," Sig agrees, tossing the gathered mooring off to one side. "The rocking can even put you to sleep someti-" Abandoning the sentence, the Dragonhealer jerks forwards, hand extending in an attempt to clasp around her forearm and steady her, his other hand clinging to the mast. Chu's chatters stir up Sigam's bunch, who all course into the air and squabble unhappily, chiding the humans. Don't drown now!

F'yr rolls her eyes at his smart reply. "You know I meant taking you somewhere /other/ than the lake. Like dumping you back on the island for another week or two." She shorts at the bouncing brows, focusing too much after that with her boat-jumping to really make a comment. "I'm alright!" she half-squeals, though she clutches at his helping arm as well as she finally regains her footing. She breaths out in relief for not having fallen into the water… well, eventually she'd get wet. Chu circles the boat, raising more of a fuss with the other firelizards and finally gliding down to perch on the edge and glare at Fy. That's what you get, she's saying. "I'm good," she huffs again, letting go of Sigam and then sitting down on the boat almost immediately with a grunt, curling her legs up and opening her bag of snackage to pop a fritter in her mouth.

Sigam's grin borders on cheeky, eyes scrunching up along with his nose. "I know, I know, but this is my ship and I can be facetious if I want to." Well, it's not /his/, but… It was close enough. Breathing a sigh of relief when the brownrider steadies and takes a seat, Sigam shakes his head and snickers. "Sure you are." The momentum of their collective jumps has pushed the little sailboat far enough from the dock that he feels comfortable, setting about untying and knotting the sails into their proper positions. Back and forth he prances on the little deck, hands flicking the riggings into place with the ease of years of practice. "Right. Now we just get to steer." Grinning quite cheerfully, Sig drops himself into the nook next to the tiller, resting his arm along the wooden rod and using it to direct them along with the wind out onto the waters of the lake. "How's the wrist doing?" He finally glances over, noting the fact that she's eating her fritters quite well while his firelizards dip and swoop overhead.

"I can always leave your ship," F'yr says, though she obviously doesn't mean it. Still, allows her to stick her chin up and then her tongue out at him. Not that she could really go anywhere at the moment… "So you still enjoy doing all this seacrafter stuff every once in awhile? Never really gone sailing much on a boat before." After munching down one more fritter she stretches her legs out and tries to enjoy the relaxing moment, though her eyes are watching Sigam's every move, learning how he works the tiller. She does lift her previously bum wrist at him, giving it a few circles. "All better now. Been able to use it easily after the splint came off, and Zaru and I have even begun some simple drills. But they got us doing just short deliveries for now." She pouts at that.

"You /can/," Sigam says in a smug tone, eyes twinkling, "but chances are you won't." The Dragonhealer leans to flick his tongue back at her around the main sail, eyes briefly crossing. "Yeah. I don't do it very much anymore - after eight or ten years on a boat, I was happy to do other stuff - but it's nice to be able to use it to get away." His eyebrows raise towards her. "Never? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it's one of the slower means of transportation, but its handy." Sensing he was being watched, the man likely operates the boat a little more in line with protocol than he might otherwise, resisting the urge to, well, rock the boat. "Good! I'm glad to hear that. You say deliveries like it's a bad thing though." He glances over at her with a smirk before redirecting his attention back to the lake. "What did you think they were going to do, toss you onto S and R first thing?"

"What says I won't?" huffs F'yr, narrowing her eyes a little at him and starting to get up. But then flopping right back down. "Only cause I wanna learn and see how you do this. The Weyrleader goes out on a boat every so often, but never had a chance to follow." Or was asked to join, probably. "I bet a smaller boat is better than a bigger boat, right?" She does watch him, brows furrowing a little everytime he has to shift for the wind or whatnot. "It /is/ a bad thing!" she tells him, looking shocked that he would say something like that, wide-eyed and slack jawed. "Zaru and I were the best on our wing back in Ista. Just ask our old Wingleader." Or not, because they wouldn't be in Xanadu if they were. "We should be back in the skies helping, that's what. Not leaving things off at random places."

Sigam doesn't reply immediately - he instead curls his mouth up in an impish little grin and watches her out of the corner of his eye. When she stands and sits right back down again, the man snorts, as if saying 'yeah, that's what I thought.' "If you want to learn, you should be over here doing it," he says, jerking his chin towards the side of the bar nearest her. "Settle down next to it and rest your arm across it - that gives you better control than just using your hand. This is called the tiller, and it directs the rudder to determine which direction we go," he adds, shifting his hand down to the end until she could take over if she wanted. "Whoa now, I didn't mean to insult your pride or anything. I just meant that they were likely taking you through baby steps. Zaru was going in for crash landings a little over a month ago. I'm sure you'll be back in business in no time." Even though he's reassuring her, a smirk tilts up the corner of his lips.

F'yr's head suddenly pops up at his offer, and she grins all toothy and bright. "Really? I won't break it?" Apparently a very common question from her, but she doesn't hesitate in getting up and moving over to where he showed her, plopping down heavily. "Alright, this doesn't look so hard at the end. But how do you know which way to turn it or not? Right goes left, left goes right?" She does eye the sail catching the breeze though. She leans her arm on the tiller though, already pushing it slightly to the side and experimenting on what will happen, even if he answers her then or not. She'll learn through mistakes, if she had to. "Well, I told 'em I don't need baby steps. Zaru's… gotten better at landing. But you're right, soon enough. You'll see us in action," she states with a proud beam at him.

"If you jerk it really hard to one side, you might crack the rudder or the wind will catch too much of the sails and tip the whole boat over on its side - I wouldn't suggest that, by the way - but other than that, I figure you're pretty safe." Snickering, Sigam removes his hand completely, lazing back against the stern. "It really isn't, it just takes some getting used to. Make little motions for now." He nods absently. "You're correct, the shift of the rudder is the opposite of the direction the craft will go. If you turn too far you can also lose the wind and we'll have to play with all of this mess." He gestures towards the sails with a smirk, indicating that was something he wasn't /about/ to get into right now. "It's all about combining the wind catching the sails with the dagger board beneath the boat catching the water. This just steers." He pauses, then smiles in his crooked fashion. "I don't know if that made any sense at all. Heh. Anyways, glad to hear that. He made me nervous back on the island. You'd better be ready to save my happy ass next time I get smacked upside the head by a flying branch." The Dragonhealer nods in a sagely fashion, eyes dancing over at her before he points towards the front of the boat. "Eyes that way. See the yellow marker way out there in the water? It marks a floating dock. We'll be clipping up to that."

F'yr winces just a little at his very vivid imagery. "I don't wanna have to swim all the way back from here, so good thing for the warning." She relaxing her arm a little, trying not to lean too heavily on it and accidentally cause the boat to overturn. Though her attention is fully on the front of the boat to make sure that they are still moving and upright, she does give her head a little nod every now and then to show him she was listening. "It made sense!" she reassures him with a stern nod, though she doesn't look like she understood it at all by the look on her face, eyes drifting towards 'this mess' and then towards the dragonhealer, lips pursing out just a little bit. "Made you nervous how? I told you he won't eat you unless I let him, really. No matter how often he says otherwise. And that's what we do best! Save people's asses all the time. We do it on a more wider scale than you and your dragons, stuck in the annex. How did all those eggs go, anyway? Heard they hatched well." She grins to him, trying for some conversation even if her eyes snap right back to the front as she looks at the distant marker, pushing the tiller just a teeeny bit. Probably not doing much good, but they're getting there! "Can't we just jump off the boat to swim?" she asks.

"I don't fancy it much either, especially since Thea apparently had some issues with a skiff a couple weeks back. They won't let us borrow the boats if we set a bad record," Sigam says with a low laugh, though he doesn't seem at all worried, stretching out his legs and wriggling his bared toes. "Did it? You learn faster than I did, then," the Dragonhealer says, giving her the benefit of the doubt and not making a comment on her expression. "Oh, no! Not like that. With his landings. I didn't want him to strain something in his legs on top of everything else." Sig aims an indulgent smile in Fy's direction, eyes flicking over her face. "Yeah. I imagine it's a lot more thrilling too, being out there in the thick of it… Hm. The hatching went fantastically though, yeah. We got six healthy new weyrlings - a bronze, two browns, a blue, and two greens," he reports, smile the proud one of a father - and in a manner of speaking, he was. "Yeah, sure, we can. There's not much current this far from the sea, so… it's up to you. Decide and I'll bundle up the sails whenever you're ready." Til then, he looks content to laze, even if his eyes are carefully watching their progress.

"She did?" F'yr looks mildly interested in this story, brow lifting up as she studies Sigam for a moment out of the corner of her eye. "If that happens, you just… 'borrow' a boat. When they're not looking. Late at night." And she snickers at the thought. "I'm just smart like that," says Fy smugly, trying not to give anything away like the fact that she didn't know a thing that he said. She raises her free hand to flap in his direction, snorting softly. "Zaru's pretty tough. If crashing to the ground doesn't stop him, little landings like that weren't." She finally pulls her eyes away from the marker to look at him, bobbing her head at the mention of the healthy hatchings. "That's good! And I say /right/ here. I mean, we're close 'nough to swim if anything." And then she drops her arm away from the tiller, as if hoping that'd stop the boat completely. There was only so much intense staring in front of her this brownie can do.

"Yeah. A storm brewed up? I think?" Sigam's shoulders heave in a shrug, not knowing much of the story beyond that. "Rumors, you know how they go. Ha! Alright, only if you're here to rescue me when I get caught!," Sig says laughingly, pulling himself to his feet with a low grown. "Yep, you're a smart cookie. I just worry about dragons - it's my job, nothing against you or Zaru." The words come out distant and distracted, hands quicky slacking the sails until he can bundle and tie them down. "Fair enough, here it is." Tying the last bit of rope into place, Sigam winks towards F'yr, turns, and dives down into the lake water without another thought.

F'yr shakes her head quickly as she gets more details on the story. "That's why there're so many boat problems in Ista. People just don't pay attention to the weather." Tsk, tsk. Former Search and Rescue rider knows better! "Rescue you? Maaaybe," she drawls out but then giggles along with him. "Right, right, you're the big important dragonhealer and all. I get it." She hops up as well as soon as he gets the sails done, not quite as entranced by the work as before. "I hope it's freezing!" she calls after him as soon as he jumps off the boat, but that doesn't stop her from moving to the edge and following after, loose clothes and all.

Sigam surfaces quickly, arms churning in the water to keep him aloft with a 'pfffft' towards the hair flopping down into his eyes. "It's getting long," he comments with mock disgust, eyes crossing to peer harder before returning to something she had said before. "You're right, though. You'd think a new boater would have thought of that, but…" He shrugs, obviously not thinking Thea would be the spontaneous sort.

F'yr's dive is not that graceful, but she still doesn't make that much of a splash when she gets into the water. Her blonde head pops out rather fast, blue eyes barely peeking through her hair as she uses her arms to keep herself afloat for now. "You know, I give pretty good haircuts," she says and finally lifts a hand to push hair out of her own face. Long hair does that. Catching his crossed-eyes she giggles before drifting off a little bit away from the boat. "But she probably just /really/ wanted to get out in the water. At least she's alright, right?"

Sigam's eyes flick over F'yr's dangling hair, one brow lifting. "If you don't make it curly-ish or dye it blonde, I might actually take you up on that," the Dragonhealer says, tossing his head so it's at least mostly out of his way. "Maybe… I'm just trying to remember if D'had was with her… he should have known better." Giving a shrug, he swims after her, relaxing into the water. "Oh yeah, she's dandy. Confused, but dandy," he says with a chuckle.

"My hair's natural!" says F'yr with a short narrowed-eyed look at the dragonhealer. "But I know a girl that'd love to make your hair pink or blue or something, if you're interested." Once she has a bit of room, she leans onto her back to lazily float for a short bit. "D'had's that new Weyrsecond, right? And he still leads the Search and Rescue Wing. Weird that, ain't it? Is he a Seacrafter too?" She turns in the water, diving for a short moment before popping back upright nearby. "Confused can't be all that bad at least," she tells him with a giggle, splashing at him lightly. "That's good to know. Not nice to get you all worried if she did have a big boating accident."

"I know /yours/ is, I just don't fancy it would look very good on me," Sigam says wryly, eyes dancing even as his nose scrunches up. "Uhmm, thanks, but no thanks. I like it brown, most days." The Dragonhealer finally gives up and gives his head a brusque shake, sending it mopping every which-way. "Yeah, that's him. It's weird, but… I dunno, I stay outta that business. He used to be though - my dad knows a guy who knows his dad, or something. Seacrafters, you know." A hand raises out of the water to flick as he treads water. "No, it wasn't bad, it was /hilarious/," he says with a noise akin to a cackle, shoulders bobbing. "She'd just tell me not to worry, even if I did."

F'yr rolls her eyes at him. "All I can do is cut anyway. I used to trim D'son's hair." Key word is also 'used to' in that sentence. She watches him shake the hair out, milding amused as she floats there. "Yeah, that's all Weyrleader-y business or whatever, anyway. All you 'crafters… someone knowing someone." She starts to lazily move again, just circling around the dragonhealer. Cue jaws music? "Hilarious? That ain't so nice to say." She can't help the smirk growing on her face as she watches his shoulders. "But you /should/ worry cause she's… you know, Thea." And here she lifts her brows at him high, even she splashes playfully again.

Sigam smirks, head tipping to one side. "Used to? That's not very comforting, if your 'customers' are leaving," he says, fingers creating quotation marks with the tease. "Exactly. I get drowned in enough work as it is, so I'll leave that business to them. It is kind of handy, though - I have a friend of a friend of a friend who knows someone at Telgar that could hook me up with some good wine from Benden," Sig eventually concludes, winking in a gaudy fashion. "Nice? Who says I'm nice?," he asks, spinning to keep an eye on the circling F'yr. "I suppose I should, but it's not like I'm her dad or weyrmate or anything. She's a big girl." Squeaking, Sig ducks his head away from the splash, hand raising to toss some back in her direction.

"Sorta just /happened/ that he stopped getting the trims with his fancy new knot," huffs F'yr, maybe a little too defensive? Probably. She listens to his long list of connections and even her eyes cross for a moment as she tries to put them together in her head. "Might as well buy your own since that sounds like more trouble!" She giggles as he spins around, and she changes direction in her circling. "/You/ were always nice to Thea at least." As far as she can tell. "And why wouldn't you be nice? It's cause…" And she makes a kissy-face. She's just mature like that! And then down she goes, underwater, disappearing in what is possibly right for him.

"Ahhh, right, right. Seems he stopped a lot of things." Sigam might maybe be a little defensive of F'yr too. "Ah well. You can practice on me now." Surely his eyebrows didn't just waggle - no, he was just amused by her crossed eyes… right? "Why would I buy it when he - they - can get it for free? Vintner's sons make good acquaintances," he says with a nod, changing his direction too. "I was, but apparently there's a snarky sense of humor under all that air of niceness." He's about to laugh, really he is, but then that kissy-lips thing makes his nose scrunch way, way up. "Aw, no. I mean, I wanted to, but she's too… we have very conflicting ideals. About a lot of things. Besides, she has… D'had…," he trails off as she goes under, eyes trying to keep track of her, and apparently failing spectacularly.

"Well… you know…" F'yr doesn't seem to want to get into that mess, and would shrug if she weren't treading water. Instead she shakes her head a bit. "Weyrleaderness happens." She'll blame it on that, of course. "And you bet I will, then!" No, she didn't notice anything waggling at all. She looks like she still wanted to argue about the wine but then she just nods her head sharply once. "Alright, guess you're right." And how reluctant she is to admit that! She catches most of what he says, but she dives down anyway. And she's down there for awhile, but it's obvious where she is. She's aiming to grab one of Sigam's moving feet to give him a sharp tug down! Who knows how lucky she is with that though.

"It does happen. Riding a bronze beast doesn't help, either," Sigam agrees without a hint of envy, angling his arms out and back for a change of pace. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. And of course I'm right! I'm always right, haven't you learned that yet?" Silly Fy. The Dragonhealer's smirk is sharp at first, smug at the brownrider's obvious reluctance, but the longer F'yr is under water, the more nervous he gets. Oh yes, it's obvious now, but now it depended on /when/ she wou— glurble! Leaning in with her tug, the man bends neatly in half, foot shaking to free itself even as he bats with his hands. The message was clear - leggo!

F'yr makes a face at the comment about riding bronze. It's either a pained face or a glower at something only she can see in the distance, who knows, but still skews up awkwardly. At least she gets that smug look off his face! She gets enough time for the tug but almost immediately lets go of his flailing food in case she gets kicked or slap. Or perhaps it's cause she yelped underwater in surprise, letting out her breath and forcing her to shoot up to the surface, breaking out into the air and sucking in hard. "For thinking you're always right!" Or she would have said anything. Giggling a bit and shaking hair out of her face, she then turns her smirk into something more sympathetic. "And sorry to hear 'bout Thea. If you wanted, you should."

Sigam's admittedly puzzled by that look, but she doesn't exactly give him any time to ponder it in depth. Thankfully successful (in a manner of speaking), the Dragonhealer kicks to the surface as well, breathing out in a puff of water sprinkles. "What was tha- Oh. Thhhhbt. You're so mean to me!" He shakes his head again, this time aiming to splash it all on her. "Huh? Oh, it's fine. When I said 'I wanted,' I meant it in the past tense. As in, I don't anymore. She's more of a little sister. Another one," he says with a sigh that borders on aggrieved, eyes rolling good-naturedly. "Just what I needed."

"Me? Mean? Shells no!" F'yr giggles some more still, sounding more like a cackle as she continues. She lifts her hand, as if hoping to block the droplets of water from his hair before she starts kicking her way back towards the direction of the boat. "Uh huh, sure it is," she says, unconvinced, about the past tense. She makes sure to pause as she studies the dragonhealer for a moment again. "Nothing wrong with little sisters either, or siblings. I bet it's nice with the real deal." And back to the boat, not quite a long trip, she grabs the edge to try to haul herself back up.

"Wait, wait, come again? Because I think I just heard you say you weren't mean. Now, who shoved whom off a rock again?" Sigam cups one hand behind his ear for a moment before sticking it back into the water again. Snickering, he keeps his eye on her, and a couple feet's distance between them. Fool me once… "It is? What, do you want me to prove it to you?" When it's obvious she's going to get into the boat, the Dragonhealer paddles forward, hooking one arm onto the vessel's rail and offering the other as a foothold. "I'll let you meet my actual little sisters sometime, and then you can make that judgment for yourself." The purse of his lips attempt to imply that she won't be impressed.

F'yr opens her eyes nice and big and sticks her lower lip out just a little. Was it wobbling? "Push you off a rock… You saying /I/ would do that? When it was just an accident?" Sniff. "Plus, you were asking for it." Her face melts away into its usual smug expression almost right away, snickering a little at the memory. "And you'll prove that by…?" She considers the foothold, first trying to scramble up the side of the boat and failing before she does take the offer. "By showing me your little sister… not sure if that'd really prove anything but just that you've got a close family too. People /say/ they're like a sister or brother to them, but usually don't mean it." She flops into the boat in a wet mess, wringing out her loose clothes.

Sigam makes a gurgling noise in the back of his throat and turns his head away quickly, eyes squished shut. "Aw, no, not with the face!," he protests in a gruff whine. "I was asking for it, but it wasn't your fault? 'Accidentally on purpose' doesn't happen, Fy," the Dragonhealer says with a huff, finally risking a glance back in her direction. He doesn't answer her at first, hard little lines appearing around the edges of his eyes as he hauls his own body up and over the edge of the sailboat. Not bothering with his own clothes, he follows her flop closely, dropping to his knees and taking advantage of her wringing to sneak his hands in and tip her chin up. "That's not what I meant." Pushing a few strands of hair off to the side, Sigam focuses in on Fy's eyes and visibly hesitates for a moment. "I- Oh, shards. Just don't kick me." The words come out in a low rush as he edges forward, head tilting just that little bit to the left in order to press his lips gently against hers, just once… if she doesn't sock him across the face first.

"Sure it does happen. Especially when there were no witnesses to say otherwise, right? You probably just /fell/ off." F'yr, ever so innocent at the end.Of course no one will believe her if they actually knew anything about her, so she was still shot out of luck with convincing anyone, were it ever to happen. she squeezes the life out of the hem of her shirt, happy to watch the puddle of water forming it if weren't that she was being directed away. Her brows furrow at him, drawn downwards, though she doesn't pull away yet. Call it that damn curiosity of hers. "So you meant you /do/— What're you—" Not quite realizing she was the target apparently until it was too late. Her pale face turns into aflood of red almos immediately even as her brain shuts down. So do here eyes. And then there's a bit of a response from the brownie's own lips against his. Things /could/ get a little spicy in the boat were it not for Fy's hand suddenly shooting up, loosely fisted, and aiming for the upper-part of Sigam.

There's definitely a curl suddenly added to Sigam's lips, amusement at her stuttering and flushing unable to be quelched. His own eyes slide shut out of habit, one hand attempting to slide down to better cup her neck, taking cues from that little bit of return pressure and then— "Ouch, hey, stop that!" One part laughter, one part growl, Sigam rocks back a bit, raising his hands in an attempt to either block or catch the hands she's flailing at him, wincing for the ones that hit. "I don't," he finally says by way of answer to her aborted question, eyes scrunched up and still a little too intense over his crooked smile. "I don't like her like that." Why, thank you, Captain Obvious.

F'yr's flustered look doesn't pass at all, with her eyes poppig open and staring all widely at him. Flailing hand is caught and trapped! And Fy's brain is slowly coming alive again, fist clenching instinctively in his grip. "Sorry! It ain't like you gave me any warning!" Liar. He gave plenty. Her blushing doesn't back down either, but when he does answer her eyes narrow and her other hand suddenly comes around to aim a punch to his shoulder. "You didn't have to go 'round kissing the first person you see to prove it. Not that it proves /anything/. But fine. You don't." Huff.

Sigam tries really hard not to snicker at that look, a smile playing about his mouth even as he glances warily towards that closed fist. "I did too!," the man argues, eyes darting from her eyes to her lips and back. "OW. More warning than I should have given you, anyways," he grouses, hand raising to massage the shoulder she'd just slugged. He sulks like that for a moment, pouting as his gaze changes from dangerously amused to something rather serious. "I don't go around kissing every girl in sight, either - just you. I really wish you'd quit sticking words in my mouth," he says with a smirk, reaching one hand out in an attempt to settle it carefully on her shoulder, wary of being struck again. "Fine, don't believe me, then." Eyebrow tilt - touche!

"Did… not…" F'yr finally pulls here eyes away from him, sort of trying to focus on something else for a moment as if that might help calm the blood rushing to her face, even if she does feel a little better that she caused some pain for that embarrassment. "Well it's not like you had so much of a choice way out here. Why the shards you did /that/ after talking 'bout sisters and—" She shakes her head, daring a glance back him and that serious look when he touches her. But her own hands fall back, relaxed, and not looking like they were going to go punching dragonhealers for the moment. "What were we talking 'bout again?"

"Alright, let's hypothetically say I didn't give you enough of a warning. Shall I try again? I can go slower this time," Sigam all but purrs, mouth curling up deviously at the corners when his eyes meet hers. "That wouldn't have mattered, besides. I wouldn't have kissed anyone else. Would've just gone off on one of those tirades trying to prove myself right. You know the ones." This comes out awkwardly, the Dragonhealer taking his own turn at glancing away, up towards the dangling rigging. He sits back on his ankles, hand sliding off her shoulder with a shrug. "I dunno. I think you were arguing about how you 'accidentally' shoved me off a rock, and I was trying to convince you that I don't /want/ to chase after Thea." Sly eyes slide back her way. "Are we safe on that issue?"

"Slower has nothin' to do with it," mumbles F'yr, eyes darting away when they meet onto to go to his lips next. They rest there just for a moment before snapping back to attention at him, forehead creasing in confusion. "Then why kiss me?" she asks in honest puzzlement, aware of his sudden awkwardness. She's very familiar with awkward. Her head looks this way and that, as if looking to see who else was around on the lake or perhaps an escape. They /were/ stuck on the boat though. "Right, you don't… now. Or cause she's found someone else. Or… Yeah. Yeah, we're safe." She leans forward a bit, sort of staring at a spot between them though. "Sorry. Never kissed anyone but Dels." And she'll stick to that story, but of course there were exceptions. Especially when booze and flights were involved.

"Okay, sure. What does, then?," Sigam asks coyly, eyebrows raising in an attempt to meet his soppy hair. "I did it because I wanted to. Because maybe- maybe I like you or something." He says it teasingly, smile plastered on his face, but his eyes drop to his hands, focusing on where his thumb picks at an invisible hangnail. "I stopped way before that, but yeah," he argues lamely, shoulders rising and falling. He glances up only when she leans towards him, a small smile tweaking up the edge of his lips. "S'alright. I… should've asked first or something. I'm sorry too…" He trails off, letting the silence and the look hang with that same weird, itchy sort of feeling before he looks away, brain working to find something, anything to say. "Suppose I should raise the sails." They call him a Smoooooth Operatoooor.

F'yr falls quiet for a moment as she considers that question. "I dunno," is her frustrated grumble in reply. A bit of red returns to stain her face and she looks to him, studying while he wasn't staring at her that is. "Oh." Apparently that is the smartest reply that Fy can come up with, looking a little more than embarrassed again. "No. You shouldn't've. Just happens that way." She lifts her chin a little, letting the silence trail on and on and… is that disappointment flashing across her face? "Guess you should. Suppose you gotta return the boat anyway. Getting late and it'll get colder," she notes, sitting back now and crossing her arms tightly against her wet clothes.

Sig laughs quietly head shaking a bit even as his amusement overrules his own embarrassment. "I dunno either," he says, seemingly for the sake of saying /anything/, one hand reaching out again to gently run the pad of his thumb over that blush on her face if she'll let him. "It happens, but it doesn't have to." The mention of returning, time, and temperature pulls his gaze away for a moment, scanning the area around them before shrugging it off as negligible. There's a more important point to make. This time when he leans in he does it slowly, inching forwards onto his knees until his face his level with hers, head tilting to one side with a curious smile, eyes half lidded. "May I?," he asks, a little breathless, but he'll never admit to it. Nope, never, even as he adds, "You can say no, you know. I won't be /too/ offended." He smiles in spite of the serious look in his eyes.

Oh traitorous face, why do you blush so? Would probably be what Fy is thinking, knowing fully well that her face was heating up again. She doesn't pull away, but she does clench her jaw a little in frustration at her inability to control it. "And maybe it's nicer when it does happen," she states, but now it sounds like she's purposefully trying to be confusing now. She follows his look around again, missing the first part of him approaching. But again she stiffens up in surprise, waiting… listening… eyes darting to his lips for a moment. And her answer? "No." Plain and simple. There's just a very miniscule pause between that and her closing the distance between them, a hand reaching out in case he was going to move away. But it's her turn to press her lips to his.

Sigam can't help it - he laughs at that, a quiet, amazed chuckle while his head shakes. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I give up arguing, you'll just take the other side and confound me into admitting you're right," he says, apparently recognizing her statement for what it was. He stills then, his own hooded gaze working circuits over her facial features, awaiting some sort of answer. When he gets it, Sig's smile dims sadly, but the man seems intent on obeying Fy's wishes, already shifting to back up… but he doesn't quite manage to pull away, motion stopped by her touch. A light, puzzled frown is all he manages before /she/'s kissing /him/, which is entirely unfair, as he doesn't get to enjoy the irony of it… But damn irony, anyways. Making a noise low in his throat, Sigam raises his free hand and slides it into the hair at the back of her neck, lips shifting to better return the pressure of her kiss.

"And maybe that's because I /am/ right." F'yr's gotta be F'yr at the end of things, even if the embarrassment hasn't ebbed away completely for her. Amazing how her pale complexion can stay red for so long; one might almost think she got a sunburn staying out all day. Aww… Maybe it was that smile fading that really made Fy move in for the kill, though likely it was her plan. Or so she'd say. The hand that stopped him moves up, resting between his shoulder and neck as she slides herself just a little bit closer, losing herself fully into that kiss. And the best part is there were no flailing limbs from her! But she only lets it go on so long, pulling away slowly, eyes fluttering open, and hand dropping as she moves to sit back, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Still offended?" He might be. She didn't ask afterall… but still, Fy wins!

"Mmmaybe," Sigam says, playful dubiousness in his voice, but his eyeroll for the brownrider is affectionate. He'll blame her cute little blush for that, of course. Regardless of F'yr's motives and plans, Sig mirrors her actions, letting the hand on her cheek slide down her neck, thumb moving in light, slow circuits over her skin. Basking in the moment, he nearly follows her in when she pulls away, almost magnetized and definitely breathing a little heavier than before. Sheer force of will (and appreciation of the lack of punches) keeps him in check, his own eyes sliding open with a long, low exhale. Her question splits his mouth wide in a grin, eyes scrunching up. "Oh yes, I'm completely offended," he teases, giving her neck an affectionate brush of his fingers before he retracts his own hand. "No," he says more seriously, head shaking from side to side. "I'm very, very not offended." Fy wins in-freaking-deed!

F'yr would have been smug. Perhaps, but she's too busy and focused on other things. There's a low whimper sound that comes from the back of her throat at the feel of his hand, but she smothers that immediately and doesn't seem to make note of it after pulling away. Her nose wrinkles up a little bit and she gives him a small snort. "Sorry, was trying so hard not to at the end there. See, I'm not really mean," she mumbles the end a bit, her smile slowly stretching out again. "Alright then. That's good to know. " But then she drops her eyes back to eye the bottom of the boat and that smile she had on her face fades. She heaves a sigh and sits back completely, away from the dragonhealer.

Sigam breathes out a little laugh for that noise of hers, but makes no more mention of it either. Instead he twists his mouth up on one side, eyes dancing at the sound of her snort. "Of course you aren't mean. I just like giving you a hard time. Don't say you wouldn't do the same." He points one finger towards her, eyebrows raising, though he doesn't seem to be able to tone the smile down far enough to seem serious. "Yeah…" The Dragonhealer struggles for something else to say, eyes flicking over her change of posture, perhaps a little confused, but apparently he isn't going to push it this time. Giving her a last rakish grin, the man stands, unwinding and raising the sails of their boat, ducking under the boom to secure the sheets. "You steering again, there, Captain?," he asks finally, peeking around the mast towards F'yr.

F'yr gives a nervous little giggle at his accusation. "I would /never/ do that. You know, to you…" Another snort added there that completely gives that lie away, though. "Yeah," she mimics him, and then allows the awkward silence to fill in the rest. She wasn't going to move again, using the edge of the boat to perch her elbow on, and then place her chin in her hands. Blue eyes stare off at the water, darting back and forth towards Sigam as he works, and she can't help the quirk of her lips upwards at the title. "I think I'd rather watch you, this time. I'll keep an eye out for pirates instead from here." She lifts her head to lazily wave off in the distance, back towards the docks.

Sigam raises his eyebrow high towards F'yr, his own little snort escaping him. "I'll remember that," he warns with a grin, finger shaking before he devotes himself to his work. Pulling the jib sail further and further perpendicular to the vessel in combination with working the tiller slowly turns the ship around, allowing it to catch the wind from behind. "That sounds like a good idea," Sig says at last, crouching next to the tiller this time, head ducking low to see beneath the billowing sail. "I can't watch for the dock and pirates at the same time, after all." After a few moments he seems to relax, feet pulling out from under him to let him flop against the stern of the ship with a low sigh. "Makes me nervous to sail with the wind - too small of a window to see by. I'm glad we don't have far to go." He's a little awkward still, perhaps, but working on it, eyes riveted on the strip of sight between sail and bow. "If you see something we're gonna hit, give me a yell, yeah?" He smirks, flicking a look Fy's way.

F'yr's tongue briefly comes out to that. He might remember it, but she most likely won't, or admit that she does. She does exactly what she said she was going to do, though. Her blue eyes continue to slide from the front of the boat back towards him, watching as he works to get the wind in the sail. "And we just know how many pirates like to lurk in these waters. Don't worry, I'll protect you." Her hand goes to her side instinctively, looking for her knife. Instead she just pats down damp clothes, and tries not to pout at the fact that it's missing. There goes that idea. She looks back out across the water towards the dock, growing a little bigger by the moment. "Have you ever crashed a boat before?" she asks curiously after short silence, glancing back his way with her head tilted. This time she leaves her eyes there, watching him tend to the tiller.

Sigam returns the gesture in kind, eyes crossing in his patented way to boot, knowing full well their respective memories would be selective in what they recall. In a strange way, he almost anticipated the inevitable arguement. "Are you kidding? This place is crawling with pirates," Sig says in his best storyteller voice, eyes slashing her way conspiratorially before his finger points out some very conspicuous dark bushes along the shore. "They hide their boats in the bushes over there, waiting for unsuspecting little ships like ours to sail by. They say that on dark and stormy nights, when the tide is really high, their flagship, The Queen's Lace, rides in through the fog and delivers supplies to the weyr's pirates." It would all be so much more believable if he wasn't grinning like an idiot. "I told that to some of the weyrbrats not long after I got here - the really nasty ones with the britches bigger than they are, you know? Should'a seen them in that storm that went through last month. They pissed themselves." Chuckling, Sigam eyes her for that pat down, mildly curious. "But that's just old nanny's tales my mom passed down. Pirates would sooner wreck trying to get in here in a fog. As for crashing, yeah, sure, everyone does that at first, but I never sunk anything." Reassurring, huh? Sensing her gaze, Sigam glances to the side with a small smile, eyebrow raising. "What?"

F'yr giggles at his look, giving him a toothy grin in return afterwards as she listens to his story. "Queen's Lace? I think I heard that one before…" She trails off as she giggles again, shaking her head at him. "You know all this? Are you sure you're not working for 'em or anything?" She leans a bit more on the side of the boat and squints her eyes at him playfully. "Should I be worried where you're taking me?" But then her face splits again into a grin about the weyrbrats. "I hope you told them that they like to take the kids when they come, force 'em into drudge work on the boat. Smaller people, fit in smaller places." She glances just briefly to see if they were going to crash or not before looking back, her smile fading a bit into a more thoughtful expression. "Nothing. I said I was going to watch you steer." But she doesn't let the pause linger for too long, turning her face away and picking at some splinter in the boat. "I love Dels, you know?"

"You probably have. Mom liked all of that 'scare the hold brats into obedience' stories," Sigam says, returning her grin. "Hmm, maybe I am? Then what would you do?" He waggles his eyebrows deviously, mouth curling up in a smile. "You should definitely be worried." He nods absently, frowning at the fast approaching dock even as he surges to his feet, slacking the jib and ceasing their progress slowly. "Oh, I definitely did. For some reason, they didn't find that appealing." The Dragonhealer pauses, turning to face her with the rope in hand, tapping his lip with one finger before shrugging to show he couldn't possibly fathom why. "Ah, okay. Didn't think you meant it though." Angling the sail back into its parallel position, Sigam leans back over to turn the tiller, guiding them gently back in to the dock. He likely uses this as an excuse to ignore the question at first, unwinding the boat's mooring and giving the looped end a toss over the nearest dock post with old practiced ease. "I figured," he says at long last, hauling their boat's side up against the dock. Tying it off and lowering the sails, Sigam stoops to pick up his pack. Stilling long enough to give her a long look, mouth lifting into a crooked little smile. "Was just a hunch, though." Sarcasm? Naww.

F'yr rolls her eyes a little at that. "I think that's just a normal thing. Though my Mom never did that, all the nannies at Telgar loved to do that. 'If you skip anymore Harper lessons they'll sic all the whers on you and then feed your innards to the wherries.'" She raises her brows at him and his own waggling ones. "Well, then I'd have to fight my way out of here, wouldn't I? And you know I'd win." Cue another snort here, lips still curling up into a smirk at him. She eventually gets the splinter off, glancing back at him when he remained silent, though she stays seated she does watch his every move carefully. Her expression falls all the more the longer he goes silent. "I don't know what to say 'bout… it." And by 'it' she means hers and the Weyrleader's relationship. She finally gets up, moving towards the dock to climb out, pausing to look over at him. "Would you care if the person you love was sleeping 'round with someone else? Or, well… anyone else." She sighs, looking away and shrugging both her shoulders and then moving to scramble out of the boat, muttering loudly a, "He doesn't care."

"Feeding one's innards to the wherries? That's actually one I've never heard," Sigam says with a laugh, head switching from side to side. "I know you would win, you and one finger." He waggles a finger of his own in a tickling motion by way of demonstration, giving a wink. "I'll be good, it's not time for drudge pick-up anyways." Slinging his pack up onto the dock, Sig turns to consider the brownrider, gaze flicking back and forth across her face. "It?" Tilting up one eyebrow, Sigam tilts his head to one side before realizing what she meant. "Yeah, I'd care. I mean, I guess there are some people that wouldn't, but…" The man shrugs, eyes shifting to one side. "I don't know. Maybe it's just from being a holder, but if I really cared about them, I wouldn't want them sleeping around." His own face falling a bit, Sigam inhales and exhales noisily before he links his fingers and offers to help her up. "I… don't know what to tell you, Fy, except that it seems like your relationship is really… unbalanced lately. I mean, you seem like you offer and do a lot of things for him and he just 'doesn't care.' It doesn't seem fair for you." The words come quietly, hesitantly. "Just saying."

"Never? You should sit down and listen to some of the aunties and uncles threatening the kids. They get creative in their old age, I tell you!" F'yr smirks at his laughing, and she wiggles a few of her fingers right back at him. "Exactly." F'yr doesn't answer him right away before she nods slowly. "It… us… what he says we have." She sounds very disbelieving herself at the moment, falling quiet as she listens again. Her brows furrow down together a little bit, nearly touching in the middle. "I mean… I didn't. He had a weyrmate, and had gotten her permission, and Ais didn't mind sharing… And it was good. But that was Ais. And this is…" She lifts a hand to rub at her other arm, as if for warmth. "It's not just anyone, but also that Weyr bitch." Alright, Fy wasn't bitter about that. Nope. Even if she rarely curses. She does take his offer of his hand though, easier to get out faster from the boat, using his shoulder for support. If her fingers lingered a bit on the skin between shoulder and neck… well. "I don't know if I do that… he says he just wants to see me happy. I guess I am, sometimes." Obviously not at the moment when she was being emo about it. Up on the dock she straightens up, runs a hand through her hair and tugs on some damp blond strands. "Sorry. Nevermind. Thanks for the ride, Sigam. I really liked… it."

Sigam shoots Fy a wolfish grin, eyes scrunching way, way up. "That's not a good sign. My parents will be getting old enough to be aunties and uncles soon. Just so long as it's all bluff." He wraps his arms protectively around his sides at the sight of those waggling fingers, eyes shrinking to narrow little slits over his grin. "Hey, you just keep those away from me." His mirth fades slowly into a quiet, sad sort of look. "I see." The Dragonhealer's lack of conviction matches her own for that first part, one eyebrow sliding up to consider the arm-rubbing motion. "Hm. So he's changing and able to keep up with another lover, but he can't give you the time of day?" Sigam's jumping to his own conclusions there, but he can't help an inkling of a smile for her vulgar term for Vivian. "Weyr bitch? One would think you didn't like her or something." Captain Obvious strikes again! Helping to lift the brownrider up onto the dock proves to be easier than he expected - being a five-foot-and-change rail had its advantages apparently! - Sig tries valiantly to take that lingering as a simple touch… And, well, fails. Looook, he's blushing, d'aww. "Sometimes isn't always enough. Sometimes-" The man pauses to heave himself up onto the dock with a low grunt. "-it's nice to feel appreciated instead of just /there/." Again, he might be jumping to conclusions, or maybe he's just hiding the fact that he's speaking from experience. Regardless, he scoops up his pack and lifts it over one shoulder, which he uses to shrug the rest of that off. "Don't be sorry. I don't always know what to say, but I don't mind listening," Sig says, with a wry smile. "I'm glad you had fun, though. Of all people, I never thought you'd be on a boat." If he notices the strange placement of the word 'it', he tries not to show it, a smirk playing around the corners of his lips. "We can do it again any time, though. You know how to find me."

"Well, Weyrs are weird. Not all the time are they bluffing," F'yr notes with a lift of her brow at him. Oh, how she likes that reaction of his to her wiggling fingers! Makes her stand up just all the more straighter. "Alright, fine, I won't touch you again." She drops her hands, though her voice wasn't quite as teasing as she wanted it to be. "We still see each other… not often. Not just one lover. Or maybe just that one." She makes a face at him as he repeats her title of the Weyrwoman's daughter. "Otherwise known as the hussy. Can't you tell we're great pals?" Her blue eyes actually do a little double-take, having caught that bit of blushing. But instead she swallows hard, face crumbling a little bit more at his words. "Y-yeah, I guess that's it," she says a bit thickly as if keeping back some tears. She bobs her head slowly at him, forcing her lips to curl back up into its familiar smirk. "Why not me on a boat? You think I'd let you have all the fun alone? But yeah… again, sometime soon." She kicks a bare foot out awkwardly, sort of standing there trying to figure what else to say. "I'll… see you 'round." That was good enough, right? No time to think about it, as she was already turning to pad down the docks away from him.

"Really? Aw, now you're just out to make me paranoid, Fy," Sigam says, returning the raised brow with one of his own. As if just now realizing he'd looped his hands around himself, the Dragonhealer snaps them back into a normal position, lips pursing in a pout. "I didn't mean /no touching/. Just no tickling." Sulk, sulk. "Mm, still. It's- if he wasn't keeping his weyrmate…," Sig trails off with a frustrated shake of his head, not wanting to throw any more assumptions out there. "Anyways, yeah, I can tell you're totally close. Like this." He twines his middle finger around his index, showing just how 'close' they were with a snort. Yet her changing expression is a source of concern for the man, his own face falling into something quiet and concerned, sentiments enduring even when she pulls that smirk back into place. "I dunno. Just one of those 'of all the people in all the weyr, you were the one I least expected to show up' kind of things." Unsure what else to add himself, Sigam shifts the pack on his shoulder and nods, eyes scrunching up in a semblance of a smile. "Yeah, definitely be seeing you." It seems for a second as if he's going to leave it at that, gaze distantly locked on something further down the dock, hesitant tension riding high around his neck. Then he turns on a heel and trots after F'yr, reaching out to tug at one of her hands. "And Fy? If… if nothing else, I appreciate you. Okay?" With all the geeky nervousness of a teenager (which he won't admit to later either), Sigam flashes a wide smile and backs up a few steps again to let her go on her way should she so choose.

"Paranoia's all a part of Weyr life. Haven't you figured that one out yet?" Just look at /F'yr/! Of course, she had her reasons. She eyes his pout a bit warily, as if afraid to get dragged in by it. "Alright, but if there's touching I can't promise no tickling." It's a situation where he has to take the good with the bad, apparently. She lifts a shoulder up in one of her helpless shrugs, taking in a deep breath and then letting it out in a sigh. "Most of the time I just tend to be stupid. Things have just changed and can't help keep thinking on 'em." She shakes her head then, trying to compose herself some more, as she turns to meet his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, well, there you go assuming things 'bout me. Maybe I was /stalking/ you, huh?" Pause. "I wasn't," she hastily corrects. "Just coincidence." She nods her head once to him, quirks a corner of her lips, and was focusing afterwards on the end of the docks back to the Weyr when the tug on her hand makes her turn back to him curiously. She opens her mouth to answer, hesitates a moment, and then decides actions are better. Throwing her arms around his middle she gives him a tight squeeze, face ducked down and hidden as she rests her head on his chest. "Thanks, Sig," she say in a soft voice, more sincerely, and then removes herself. This time when she can spin around, it's off at a jog away from him.

"Oh, is that what that creeping sense that I should run screaming is called?," Sigam trills, feigning shock. Then he sighs, resigned. "Alright, I guess I'll just have to accept that, then." Doesn't mean he won't walk around with padding taped to his ribs sometimes, though. "Of all the things you are, Fy, stupid isn't one of them. It's normal to feel that way - I can tell you that from experience." His voice is gravely serious for that, but the look on his face clears after a moment, either trying to mimic her control or just moving on altogether. "Were you really? Well, in that case, I guess I should be doubly terrified." He nods to show he understands she hadn't really stalked him to the docks, but he can't help but chuckle at the idea anyways. "Of course, coincidence, uh huuuh." The playful light in his eyes doesn't get much of a chance to dim, but instead changes out with a look of surprise, arms instinctively closing in around her in a return hug. The man rests his cheek briefly atop her head, sighing quietly. "Anytime." Letting go, Sig watches after the brownrider for a time, holding still long enough for his returning firelizards to wheel overhead, Saoirse coming in last and backwinging for a landing on his shoulder. "I'm hopeless, you know," the man mutters for the flit, whose head tilts to and fro at him, trying to understand. "Oh, nevermind. C'mon, let's get you guys fed." Now /that/ was a word they understood and were eager to encourage their human to make good on.

F'yr giggles faintly at his mock expressions, bobbing her head for a short moment. "Good," she says, and lips stay curled into a wry expression. "You'll see. I still can be quite dumb." She can't help but pass a curious look over her face though, at his expression, but moves on of course. "You'd be smart to be scared." Fy doesn't linger too long in the hug, and she's definitely well out of hearing range. Running off the dock and probably meeting one very grumpy Zaruath, leaving behind Chu to have to find her way to where ever Fy went off to hide. Not to mention that bag of poor fritters she had brought with her, probably to be found later at the bottom of the boat in a soggy mess.

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