Xanadu Weyr - Meadow
A large, slightly rolling meadow is set high enough above the riverbank on both sides to avoid suffering from flooding, healthy ground cover and grass spreading out from either side of the dividing river. Scattered amongst the meadow are a variety of weyrs, each with a narrow path leading up to it from a main, winding road. Some are set under a few trees, while others sit by themselves. The meadow continues with gentle rolls and dips, grass tall and short waving in the slightest of breezes, and eventually those hills grow higher and steeper, ending in a large ridge that provides a fine view of that meadow and the rest of the Weyr, gazing out over the multicolored roofs of the houses and the cliff that holds the caverns.
Runner stables with the paddock beyond are to the south beyond the meadow weyrs, and a smithy and a woodcraft shop are settled closer in towards the path to the clearing. Trees border the northern side of the meadow, and more of those low, rolling hills can be seen to the northwest. A road passes through the meadow, coming from the east and used by traders and crafters alike. Wagons laden with felled trees from the forests or ore from the mountains are hauled by burden beast up the road through the meadow, over the bridge spanning the river to be processed in the appropriate workshops.
The evening is horrible; spring brings a lot of wonderful things, new life, birds, amazing how all of that is overshadowed by the muggy humidity and copious bugs that haunt the southern continent. Abundant pollen fills the air like the flowers are fornicating at an alarming rate, and it is on this evening that an average, very plain and unremarkable girl stands out in the meadow with a GINORMOUS bag in her arms. As far as teenagers go, this one is not going to win Miss Pern Fitness 2722, and she is scraggly in the arms and round in her body. The bag is HEAVY, and she's having some trouble holding it, the obvious strain on her face as she shifts it from side to side and alternates between hips. Nothing else is unusual at all, except the meowing, the most pitiful sad little mews one would ever hear. MEOW MEW MEW mrow, mew. Petulant kitten screams can be heard from about 100 feet, and every scream brings a tiny wince and a pat to the bag. "Shh… Shhhh" the girl says into the bag, rocking it back and forth. Where is her ride? Why is she out when it's nearly dark? Also, the black market kitten smugglers are getting so young, wow, someone should do something.
You've experienced gently-wafting pollen, now get ready for POLL-NADO. The yellowish plague kicks up at the behest of dragon's wings that carry a deep, dark bronze low to the ground, eddies whirling up and up in tiny vortexes that come and go as swiftly as the big beast's pass over Evangeline's head. Wings thump heavily in the evening air a fair distance behind her, dull and rhythmic as Xermiltoth works to execute a neat landing, a surly rumble sounding from his throat as he lowers himself enough that his rider can dismount without issue. "Listen, it's your fault for flying that low," R'hyn says when his feet finally hit the ground, making quite the face behind his goggles as he knocks the dust from flight leathers. "Your ego will be the death of us both one day." Shoving goggles up onto his forehead, R'hyn heads towards the figure they swooped over, original intention apologize right up until the sounds of petulant mewling reach his ears. Suspicious squinting mode: activate. Blue-grey eyes rake the girl's form, taking in her form, relative age, bag, guesses as to what's in the bag, and drawing all manner of terrible assumptions. "Do you… need help?," is what he asks, but what he means is 'what is this, where is your adult supervision, and why is your bag meowing'?
COUGH HACK CHOKE, dear Faranath the air is filled with allergens and Evangeline begins to sneeze comically. Continous nearly comical amounts of sneezing and the girls kneels, reaching into one of her skirt pockets to dab her tearing eyes. The movement she makes is just enough that small yellow ears pop up from the bag, /what// kind of cats are these? At first glance they look stuffed, the ears poking from the pack are covered in yellow knit ear covers. Similar to a bonnet but for cat ears. Yes. Yellow knit ear covers are on this cat. As R'hyn moves towards the girl, her attention on dabbing her eyes, the small form hops out of the bag and is FREE be FREE little. Ok so it's wrinkly, and it has four legs and a tail, but where is the fur? WHERE IS THE FUR? The parts of the tiny cat that can be seen are naked. The cat is greyish black, a smidge bigger than the girl's hand and is in a yellow flight coat, that looks a lot like something a dragonrider would wear. Every last detail is perfect; the amount of work this level of craftmanship would take only begs one question. WHY. As quickly as the cat escape it is scooped up, Evangelne squeaking and shoving it back in a bag before giving a small salute. "Good evening, I am so sorry I am waiting on a ride. My um, well, you see." She stumbles over her words a lot, with a quiet tenor that provokes the idea of naive innocence. Flustering, she dabs at her nose several more times, "I do not need help, my ride is coming.. thank you." Her thank you also very much says, nothing to see, move along, away with you. The sweet a happy, smile on her face hides the tone well.
R'hyn at least has the good graces to wince for the coughing and hacking and sniffling going on, knee-jerk suspicions put on the backburner because ah, right, what he was coming over here to do in the first place. "Ssssorry," is hissed out through lips pulled back in an apologetic smile that's more of a grimace, all things considered, hands lifting as though he wants to help but isn't quite sure how, and so he settles in a weird posture reminiscient of a T-Rex, or a particularly gnarled zombie. "I can get you a…" WHAT, R'HYN. What can you get her clear out here, hmm? Lack of options doesn't prevent him from looking, eyes glancing about them just enough that he doesn't notice the peek of be-knitted gremlin ears until the cat is literally out of the bag. Hands come up to splay over his lower face with a gasp that is nothing short of delighted, eyes wide and borderline-dazzling as he beholds PERN'S TINIEST DRAGONRIDER in all of its YELLOW-YARNED GLORY. WHY? MORE LIKE WHY NOT. "Whatisthat," the man breathes in a voice that frankly matches hers for purity and pitch, suddenly several octaves higher than before as he watches the teeny thing make its attempted escape, "Look at it's tiny hat and its tiny coat. Ineedit." And suddenly the rest of it doesn't matter. Who is she? Why does she have a bag of at least one but possibly many well-if-not-ridiculously-dressed cats? Gone. Out the window as she tucks that kitten back into the depths from which it came, and it takes everything R'hyn has not to pout. Alas. Some part of his brain reminds him he's thirty-one, damnit, and so he's only a little breathless when he asks, "Where did you get that, and how do I get one?" Does he mean the cat? The outfit? Unclear. Only one thing is certain: she can dismiss him with her perky these-are-not-the-droids-you-are-looking-for tones ALL SHE WANTS but he ain't budging.
Evangeline stares at the bronzerider the way people stare at the elderly when they are naked in public, her eyes are big and mouth a straight line as if the sounds that are coming from this tall figure are unexpected. Standing back up, she takes a small step to the side, searching around the meadow as if someone might be looking for her, or maybe her ride is here, and she can run away with her prizes. NO one is there; her little charges begin to meow anew as she moves. The girlish gasp from the strange older man brings a small smile to her face, but then she straightens up and tucks her bag close. "They're kittens, sir. You see my cat doorknob, he um." Sniffles, huge pouty eyes /tears/. "He died." The teenager is now openly bawling, water running down her face at the mention of her lost companion. R'hyn is damn lucky he's so cute because she reaches into the bag and pulls out a kitten. Adorned in a pink hat, with a small hot pink flight jacket, this kitten is calico and has enormous blue eyes, and similar to the counterpart, it is also hairless. "I made the coat myself; it's what I like to do." A shy blush and her eyes dart down, lips thinning through her tears, shame fills her face. Itty bitty calico kitty begins to cry, plaintive little screams that are obviously from being captive. "If, um, you want.. I could make clothes, for your weyrmates cat?" Searching for the appropriate way to bring the fact that he's a man into this situation. The lack of hair doesn't come up either. Thinking about his question for a long moment, with a possessive squeeze to the bag, she mumbles through her tears. "Nana Enyou got me four kittens; she said it was my half turn-day." With that she shuffles a little more to the side, that's right Evi slide out of here before he confiscates your rare cats. /FOUR/ SOmeone has given this child a fortune in cats.
I mean. It's a fair assessment. R'hyn is not anyone's idea of typical, and has nothing in the way of chill when it comes to things that are small or cute or in need. See: the way his face crumples at the sight of Evangeline's tears, the general awkward ebullience inherent to his too-large form shifting, changing into something much softer, gentler, and distinctly paternal in nature. "Oh, no. I'm sorry sweetheart," the bronzer murmurs, one hand lifting to cup her shoulder, if she'll allow, offering one or two soothing swipes of his thumb before retreating again. "It's hard to lose a friend. Was he ill, your Doorknob?" The sympathetic twist of his lips hitches upwards into an actual smile as she draws a second kitten back out of the bag, the hand leaving her shoulder redirecting to offer the mewling thing a scritchy-scritch beneath its hairless chin instead. "You made this?" The rider's stormy regard shifts from kitten to teenager and back, brows lofted as he explores the outfit anew, observing clear craftsmanship and enduring teeny kitten upsets with a little laugh and an honest, "I love it. I bet you wuv it too, don'tchu baybeee." R'hyn almost descends into crooning madness, kept afloat by the mention of his weyrmate's cats and, "How do you know about those?," he asks with teasing suspicion, as though his general reaction to this whole situation weren't telling enough. "They're less his than they are his dragon's, though. Ila'den hates it. I wuv it, don't I widdle guy?" One last COOTCHIE-COO and then, perhaps sensing her possessive feelings regarding the replacements for her former feline friend, R'hyn takes a respectful step back, eyes glittering as he very legitimately considers her offer. "I just might take you up on that. I don't have any that particularly need them, though," he says with a gesture to encompass that these ones are NEKKID AS THE DAY THEY WAS BORN, "despite my best efforts to the contrary. They're difficult to find." Which is perhaps why he tries to hide a laugh with a cough when she has four, perhaps realizing that she's jostling said small fortune around in a bag in the middle of Xanadu's meadow. "What a wonderful nana. They sound hungry, though. Xermiltoth says he'll be happy to wait for your ride, if you'd like to adventure to find them some milk?" FRET NOT, SMOL CHILD. HE'S NOT GOING TO BURGLE YOUR KITTENS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. Not yet, anyways. There's time yet, one supposes.
The young lady is listening, she is, with the bronzerider wiping her tears her sniffles get worse and she shifts the bag to her other to try and lighten her load a little. Evangeline does not have the air of a weyrbred child, the quiet simplicity she projects suggest an extremely modest upbringing. Similar to being brought up on a farm, or the Pern equivalent to being Amish. As she wipes tears and he asks about Doorknobs health, the sobbing starts up again, "NO… we had to move." Back to full-blown crying, snot and all for a few moments as she says, "I had to move to Monaco, with Doorknob and.. and.." Muted sobbing. CRAP. "He got out and something." The young woman begins to do that gasping and sobbing of someone a little overwhelmed. One, Two, three seconds, and she reigns in her emotions and stands up a little straighter. Calico kitty gives a soft purr with the scritching and wiggles a bit towards R'hyn; it's snap-they're-neck cute. All the baby talk brings the /smallest/ smile to her face, her lips gently bending up. Placing the calico back in the bag she pulls another one out; now they're girlfriends discussing her kittens. LIKE O EM GEE BECKY. A small red and grey striped kitten appears from the sack; he is less active than his siblings and almost half the size. "This one.. he I worry about going between with him." The concern paints her face. Then at the mention of his weyrmate having cats her nose wrinkles in a laugh, "REALLY?" See kids, dragonriders can be cool. "Why would he hate it, they're easy pets!" A small protest goes up. The little blue cat offered to R'hyn while her eyes go back to the meadow, still looking for her ride. "I.. guess, I can't miss my ride. Kinla would be mad. She's my foster mother. " For just a moment, her eyes roll, ew foster mothers. Little squeaks still emanate from the bag, "Nana use to do stuff for people.. delivering packages, she has a lot of favor with certain people." Matter of factly stating this, a touch of bragging to her meek tone as she talks about her Nana. "Can you hold him while we walk? He doesn't like the bag." If R'hyn takes the little striped kitten, he will quickly cuddle to him and start purring so loudly you'd think he was a full-grown cat.
Oh no, he made it worse. R'hyn's face parks itself somewhere pained, sympathy honest even though he hesitates to do more, ask more, in fear of making her feel sadder. "Poor Doorknob," is what he settles on, lips twisting to one side as he considers the tiny calico in her hands. "If you dressed him even half as well as you did these little guys, I'm sure he was well cared for. You gave him a good life." Something in the big bronzerider's demeanor melts for the kitten's wiggling purr, gaze tipping up to meet hers, eyes lighting up as kitten-talk steers them to safer, less guilt-ridden waters. He leans in close, gaze darting this way and that as though looking for the weyrmate in question as he stage-whispers, "Because we have a lot of them." Unable to resist anymore, R'hyn lifts hands to play gently with the blue-bonnet kitten, smushing one furless cheek with the pad of his thumb. "And he wants exactly none. Luckily it's not up to him, izzit? No izz nottt. I can see why you worry about this guy, though. He's very small. Is he younger, or just the widdle wrunt?" Honestly, Heryn, you're embarrassing. "Kinla, you say?" Xermiltoth rumbles overhead as R'hyn accepts the teensy feline into his arms, heart, shoulders, face, every aspect of him melting even as the big bronze dragon props himself up, gaze alert. "We'll be very fast, and he'll keep watch. This way." He starts easing towards the weyr proper, head tilting down, catching on her pride and intent on encouraging it. "Tell me about your Nana. Is she a sailor? Dragonrider?"
The bluebonnet kitten in the tiny blue coat is exceedingly warm, a small space heater of soft peach skin. Warm kitty, soft kitty, little ball of purrr. The feeling of the skin is like that of an infant child, but the wrinkles are EXTRA. HOW CAN SOMETHING THIS SMOOTH EXIST? It's mind-bending and addictive to the touch, a party for your hands if you might. Evangeline watches R'hyn with the super smol kitten, her eyes that of someone new to kitten motherhood and a bit protective. The downcast look on her face remains, lips a tad pouty. None of this carries into her voice, which remains sweet as she says. "Thank you.. I should have done more." The defeat is evident throughout her body, the statement rolling out of her mouth like profanity. GUILTY. This is guilt. Moving towards the Weyr proper the other kitten mewl, until EVI places one hand inside the bag to caress them as they walk. "Nana was a sailor, when she was younger, so like she didn't even become a dragonrider until she was all grown and that was at Telgar." The talk of her Nana comes easy, obvious affection in every word with a little sing-song lilt. "SO, then like, sort of… My aunt was born, and my uncle and they were from Telgar, and she came here later." This is not a historical recounting of Senk's life; it's a summary. "Um, then she met this guy, and he was…" A little giggle emits from her mouth, and her face squishes in on itself, something she is about to say has got her laughing, and she cannot finish her sentence. "He was… prolific." Another small laugh, because of lots of sex haha. "That's how she had Dad…" A slight shrug, as if everything after her fathers birth was not noteworthy to the teen. Watching R'hyn with the kitten still, the little bundle now purring as loudly as it is comfortable with the bronzer, she seems at ease with him and says "That one is a different litter I think. " Her hand goes to pull out the last kitten, clad in a little red hat and coat; this one has siamese like points on its skin.
Happy Heryn, squeaky Heryn, "Purr, purr, purr." He speaks the words in a croon for the wee beasty, entirely too content to dip fingertips beneath the edges of his tiny blue flight jacket to scritch at soft peachy skin. ALREADY ADDICTED? Maybe. It's what lends sharp features an easy edge as he tilts one elbow out to give Evangeline a little nudge, just the barest of jostles to stir her out of self-deprecating reflection. "It's okay to be sad, but… sometimes these things happen for a reason. These little guys needed a good mom like you, too." It isn't enough, and he knows it, but he offers what comfort he can, chuckling when she reaches into her bag to soothe the remaining kittens. "See." R'hyn listens as she talks of her family, 'ah'ing softly for mention of Telgar, laughing low in response to her giggle, or perhaps her description of her grandfather's particular talent, blue-greys twinkling in amused understanding. "It sounds like she's had a pretty thrilling life then, all things considered. If she's here, how did you wind up in…" He squints, trying to make out her knot, results dubious as he's almost immediately distracted by the fourth and final kitten. "Ah, so this isn't your sister exactly then, is it little guy," he asks of the kitten in his hands, lifting the little cuddler up so they're closer together for size comparison purposes. "That is reassuring, isn't it? Don't worry though, you'll fit right in with them I'm sure. Sometimes the best family isn't your real family now izzit," he says with the kind of conviction borne of experience, earnesty rather ruined by a soft coo as he settles lil bluebonnet back against his chest. "What other clothing do you make?," he asks as he steers them towards the caverns, the press of humanity growing thick enough that he slows his steps so Evi can keep up.
All of the preconceived ideas about bronzeriders being the height of testosterone, toughness, manliness, and fortitude are now gone from Evi's mind. Copious cooing provokes a fit of squeaky laughter from the teen. Seal pointed red kitten is tucked back with her siblings, each head receiving a pat. Being nudged she squeals, and her meek persona is slipping away. Each step has a small skip in it now; her head bobs back and forth as if humming a private song in it as they arrive at the caverns, as they enter she nods solemnly with conviction. "Nothing will happen to them." Off green eyes dart to the blue kitten, her mouth set in the smallest frown for a fraction of a second. "DA keeps saying Nana is old, and that she is going to die." Throwing her hands in the air, her head rolling around on her shoulders. BE NICE TO NANA SHE IS GONNA DIE. "Nana is to tough to die." A matter of fact know it all tone as if somehow toughness can beat time.
As they enter the caverns, Evi quickly gets a small bowl of milk, having a kitchen drudge warm it up and putting it on the table to cool. Before sitting down, she reaches into her skirt pockets, a novel curiosity on its own. Pulling out pieces of paper, all folded and mangled. One piece, two piece, three.. WHAT IS SHE UP TO. Six pieces of paper, all wrapped into various crumpled shapes, with no real indication which is the front and which is the back due to being covered in both drawings and writing. Each piece is opened and examined; one has a picture of an overweight cat, missing one ear. One has a list of 14 z names, and various notes on what one can only assume are people. Another sheet has lines going from names, small drawings of outfits WHAT DOES SHE DO IN HER SPARE TIME, GEESH. "Uh.. here." Finding the slip, she needs and plopping down in the chair. The sheet is laid in front of her so that R'hyn could easily see it. It's a list of the kitten's requirements, feeding instructions, bathing, temperature restrictions, and more. Before delving into the list, Evi stares off into the corner, "Ma doesn't like me around Nana, she doesn't want me to…" Her hands wave around, indicating everything and anything around her. "The lifestyle, so after the quakes, she sent me to Monaco. Only, for now, she worries. Dragonriders are.. " She whispers, her hands open, palm down and moved in small jerky motion outwards. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN. On one paper is small drawings, coats, hats, and a full CAT onesie. Yes. A drawing of a full BODY cat suit, but it's like pajamas, but it's got ears. Ears y'all. WHO WEARS THIS CRAP. "I can make a lot of things." A small smile, a deep breath and then all at once "Could. you maybe, do me a favor." Her hand fidgets a bit as she asks, the blue kitten is now fully asleep with R'hyn.
Alas that there are others in the world that might draw her opinions right back to where they started, but for now R'hyn is proud to have subverted expectations, or he would be if only he knew. What he does know is that he's pleased when his antics provoke laughter, flashing Evangeline a bright grin that lingers on in the form of a simple smile through her conviction, enjoying this shift into a more ebullient side of her personality. He doesn't correct the concept that deep inner fortitude means that death can be fought off forever, but he does laugh, tilting his head towards a particular auntie by the hearth as they pass. "The healers gave her three weeks to live. That was four turns ago. I don't think strong women know how to give up." No matter how old they are. Fetching of milk sufficiently supervised, R'hyn settles onto the seat next to hers, easing the sleeping kitten into just one arm so that his other can prop his head up in a casual lean on the table's surface. The bronzer watches her shuffle through pages, and if he finds her rather eclectic form of notekeeping strange, he doesn't say so - if anything, he might find it or something he's seen on those pages (like the cat's pajamas, BADUMPTSS) amusing, blue-grey eyes set to twinkling as she rifles through them. He obediently peers at the sheet she pulls from the mass, gaze flicking over the first few lines enough to get the gist before he realizes her mind is somewhere else. "Ah," uttered as she illuminates a familiar issue, "yes. Well, don't worry. Only half the rumors about us are true." Comforting, but he's laughing to show it's a joke, glancing around with her gesture as though realizing he's taken it all a bit for granted over the passing of a decade. "I was from a small hold too, in Ista. It's a very different world." And she a child of both, which is perhaps why he doesn't immediately seek to shunt her back out to the meadow to prevent a parental meltdown. Instead he sobers, looks as though he's about to ask her something… and rather than indulge, allows her to ask her question instead. "Of course. What can I do for you?"
Squeak, giggle, squeak, tiny jolts of noise escape the teenager as she notices that the man has caught onto what she was saying about Nana. One kitten is pulled from the bag and onto her lap, the milk placed on the table with a cursory glance around. Kitchen people do not like animals eating off tables, for some reason it is rude. The yellow clad kitten drinks quickly from the saucer, a loving smile falling on her face. Cross her hands infront of her to prevent the animal from getting on the table, her eyes attempting to catch R'hyns so that she can look straight at him as she speaks. ALL the courage this moment takes, the deepest breath is taken and then released. "Da is from Ista too." A shrug. Still attempting to stare straight into R'hyn's eyes, as if somehow she can gleam the future or figure out a great cosmic mystery. "That kitten, I do not think he can go between. He might need a place to stay." The prolonged eye contact she is trying to make seems to get her to squirm, her eyes darting down to the little ones in her lap. "Would you want to take him, for a little while? You.. um well you.." Come on girl, you can do it, find the words. Evangeline struggles her hands kneading the table and fingernails leaving tiny marks on the wood. "He might not make it, if he comes on this trip and. AND." A small tear falls from her eyes and she pushes the list of kitten needs towards the bronzerider, "I come every three or four seven days, to see Nana. but…" Her lips purse, choosing the next words with the conviction of a much older person. "I am a mama now, to them, and they need me to make hard choices." Yep, crying again. Teenage girls are rough. If she can her eyes will find R'hyn, each word is full of such belief that there leaves no doubt it's the total truth. "Mama's have to make choices for their babies, like, when to send them away. Sometimes you have to leave your baby far away, or.. in a home with her brother during an earthquake.. Because it's good for the other babies." Sniffle, hiccup, a soft sob escapes her lips. The last bit seems so random. "Could you take him until he's strong?"
Rude, schmude. R'hyn will fight anyone that tries to deny the kittens their little feast, or at the very least, glare at them super-duper scary-like until they turn away. Luckily she has the foresight to prevent an eyeball-brawl, and so it's only fond animal-adoration in R'hyn's eyes when she peers so deeply into them. A singular brow tilts upwards when her gaze stays locked with his, and far be it from R'hyn to back down from such a challenge as a game of who's-gonna-blink-first - he meets and keeps her gaze, amusement becoming concern becoming gravitas as talk turns from Ista to kittens to the duties of mothers to their children. Though he might blink, only once or twice does his gaze drop away from her face, dipping only to peer at the small feline dozing in the crook of his arm, and the list she pushes towards him. "I'm R'hyn," he blurts, apropos of nothing until he speaks again, "of bronze Xermiltoth. Ask for me any time you're here - someone will be able to find me." The hand previously holding his head aloft drops to cover hers, if she'll let it, offering a brief squeeze of comfort before taking the list and dutifully tucking it into one pocket. "As for this little guy, I'd be more than happy to look after him until he's strong enough to go home with you. I have two daughters - they're nine - coming home in a few days, and I know they'll love to look after him as much as I will." The reassurance in his features falls flat then, and he's unable to wrestle it back despite several poor attempts, lips managing only to twitch to one side, then the other as he says, "You're very brave." In more ways than one, in more ways than she can understand, or that he will admit - not upon first meeting anyways. Unwilling or unable to endure the subject, he tries to change the topic again for both their sakes, adjusting the faintly-striped kitten's tiny coat as he asks, "Does he have a name yet?" A beat. "Do you?" He knows she does, but it's an invitation to surrender it, because he's got some manners under there, honest. He's not just gonna take her kitty and run.
The color in Evangeline's face slowly crept out, waiting for a response to her proposition, her breath being held and her story spilling from her like so many marbles. A teen can only be brave for so long, her body crumpling slightly in the chair as if this whole day has taken a lot out of her. Being a mom can be so hard, and she cuddles the other cats close. "R'hyn, of bronze Xermiltoth." A pencil appears from one fo her pockets; she's a pocket version of Mary Poppins. The name is written on one of her slips, and the papers are refolded and shoved into her pockets. She allows her hand to be enveloped by the man, who now has a name, R'hyn. "Make sure you read all the instructions, and they have to stay warm and indoors, they need meat.." A blush fills her cheeks as she is called brave and a defensive shoulder sneaks up to her ear, her head tucking into it in a sophomoric attempt to hide. "You can name him, I was calling him Corkscrew because of his stripes." A long moment passes as she considers giving her name, "I am, Evangeline.."
A moment later a Bluerider from Monaco bay enters, calling out her name impatiently. The girl jumps up, gathering her kittens. "You told me.. sir.. meadow" The bluerider shakes his head "No I said the main clearing, you are late." the man pronounces, even though it's pretty obvious no matter where he landed he was late. The young teen is quickly lead out by her hand, the kittens in her bag. Before being pulled out the door by the blueriding man, she turns back and gives a weak half-wave: goodbye kitty, and good luck.