Of Weyrlife, Kids and Kittens

Monaco Bay Weyr - Terrace Garden
Neat, even planks form a boardwalk set approximately two feet above the ground. Unfolding to either side of the walk-way flourish the lush tropical gardens of Monaco, either brilliant colors and green well kept with Monaco's near eternal spring. Rare trees mingle amongst interestingly formed as well as common yet attractive trees dot the terraced landscape. Brightly blooming flowers are abundant, their colors ranging from lavender to blue to white and even startingly shades of pink. The large tropical flowers cast their sweet smell over the little alcoves scattered about the garden and heavenly cloying scents waft about. Towards the center of the gardens is a large terrace enclosed with lattice fences, over which blooming vines have been draped. A large dance square and a quiet bar, with a few high tables, have been set up in the gardens as an escape from the hectic rush of the main cavern.

The lunch rush is fading, now — Monaco's population, so recently stretching to the maximum, is nonetheless still out in force on the terraces. They aren't as crowded as inside, but there's not a surplus of tables among the small crowd outside. It's a nice day for lunch in the middle of a garden, anyhow; not excessively hot, if humid, but a breeze cuts the damp air every now and then. Several Half-Moon refugees exit the table closest to the edge of the terrace, waved off by their former Weyrwoman-then-junior — she doesn't look like she's done, though, even with a mostly empty table. There is, after all, a plate of food in front of her, and the boy next to her has one piled high. Not that the rider looks like she has any intention at all of eating her own. When a handsome blue firelizard lands next to the plate, tiny roll of paper tied to his leg, the healer examines the missive with a wry smile. "Thank you, Hel. You're a doll. Fish?" Cita definitely isn't cooing at the little firelizard. YOU'RE cooing at the little firelizard. Aphelion seems to accept this as his due, anyways, as the rider scribbles a quick reply and sends him back to the Weyrling who is his. "Uncle Tyr's going to be late." Cita informs the boy, once the blue is gone, head shaking. "One of his friends' dragons ate a mattress on a dare." NOT THAT WE'RE MENTIONING NAMES HERE, SEKSICANTH.

Crowds are the worst, truly a plague upon Pern deserving of another plague to thin them out. The people milling around, not paying attention to anything but their own needs might as well be plotting against the quaint teenage form that is Evangeline. Today she is wearing a long purple skirt, with extremely lavish embroidery of firelizards over a beach, and a plain white shirt that goes to her forearms. Her eyes are downcast, hands clasped knuckle white on a plate. Every step she takes, she squeaks out, "Excuse me, pardon me, sorry, excuse me." Knuckles on the plate are bloodless and white, she navigates through the crowd with small bursts of movement before stopping dead in her tracks. A deep breath is taken, and her head snaps up, face looking bewildered and every bit the frightened animal in a spotlight. Each table is examined, the people stared over as if they were animals going to auction, then a small headshake. Nope.No.. No. Defeat colors her features, and her bottom lip enters her mouth, a slight rock from toes to heels. As she goes to turn around, she spots the child sitting with Cita, it's not Cita but the child that catches her eye, and she takes one giant step towards the pair. Cafeterias are awkward, eating with strangers is one of the worst parts of life. Two more steps are made, and she is standing a few feet from the pair, her eyes catching the empty chair and then looking back towards the door for a moment. A sucking inhale, every word comes out in one breath. "May-I-Sit- Here- Please- Ma'am?" On her shoulder is a hairless cat, while she has been busy trying to avoid people the cat has managed to eat two meat rolls, hooking it with her tiny naked siamese kitten claws. The cat has on a purple bodysuit, the words -Fur-Elise- embroidered all over the little outfit.

For her part, Citayla looks pretty at ease — but she's positively ancient, and also a healer and dragonrider, so crowds don't ruffle her feathers much. Actually, it would be pretty safe to say that the goldrider doesn't actually seem to absorb that there is a crowd. Instead, she pushes her food back and forth across her plate, doesn't eat a bite, but watches to make sure the kid eats his. He at least seems to have no problem eating; Ciardyn chomps down like a champ, and looks like he might start on Cita's, as she's distracted by company. "Oh! Please, join us." The rider beams beatifically at Evangeline, gesturing at the multiple empty chairs. "My little brother's delayed, and I'd love the company." Cita's smile gets toned down a few notches into a slightly saner kind of look, muted warmth and mild amusement for the way Ciardyn sits up straighter. He seems to be of the same mindset as Evi, at least vaguely — he's shy, the kid, glancing between Cita and Evi before he goes back to his plate. That, at least, is safe, right? When he mumbles something at the rider, she nods, eyes on the kitten on the girl's shoulder. "She does have a feline on her shoulder, you're right. I met her a few days ago when we were here on business; it was there then, too. I'm not certain we were introduced," You know, when Ily and Cita tailed the poor thing all the way to the infirmary and then hovered for a while. Bless. "I'm Cita, this is Ciardyn. How do you train your kitten so well, may I ask."

Standing in front of the pair, her eyes on the child now introduced as Ciardyn Evi gives a small gleeful smile. Placing the plate down on the table, she scootches into the seat and wiggles her finger at Ciardyn, "Hello there.. You look so very grown-up eating lunch, how old are you?" Is asked in the happiest sing-song voice, though one nervous hand goes up to scratch the kitten. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance ma'am." Her hand extending as if to shake the goldrider's hand, there's a slight quiver to her fingers, but the smile that fills her face pinches at her cheeks, showing her teeth and one dimple in her left cheek. "I am Evangeline. I met you with that.. eyepatch. I mean. Ila'den guy. " A small blush takes over her face and her chin tucks into her chest, ducking her head a little with embarrassment. "Your brother, he is the one with the baby green dragon?" Every word has a small question in it, a pause between to find the right phrase. Bringing the feline into her lap, her attention goes back to Ciardyn, "Well you see, Curtains here is with me ALLL the time. " For someone so uncomfortable around adults, the child brings out a bright side to her. "She gets treats when she is good, and she does not get left out. It's our agreement." All of this is said to the child, with a few glances at Cita to ensure she is included too. Curtains sticks her face towards Ciardyn, whiskers wiggling as the little black nose takes the boy in.

Citayla's expression doesn't quite go too gooey at the sight of Ciardyn scuffing a foot, smiling a shy litle smile, but she does maybe melt a little. She doesn't push him to talk, just waits, but he does, eventually, glancing up through baby-thick lashes. "I am grown up. I'm seven." He says, glancing up at Cita and rolling a shoulder. "Uncle Hal lets me climb up to the firelizard's nest on the Quinto by myself. I am grown up." He explains, on Cita's raised-eyebrow look — the rider huffs, looking only a little green around the gills. She doesn't dare question the boy's old-ness, though, just smiles warmly at Evangeline. "And you as well, Evangeline. I hope that Monaco is treating you well? I've always liked it, here. The climate's just like Half Moon's, most of the year." You know. Except that it gets lots colder in the winter. Details. Cita might have gently teased the girl about Ila'den, except Ciardyn lights up like a glow, bouncing a little in his chair. "My dad's eyepatch is really cool, isn't it? He's really brave." The boy puffs his chest out proudly, shoves an entire roll in his mouth like it's no big deal. To be fair, the kid manages to gnosh it right down without a complaint, so who's really the winner, here. While he does that, though, Cita pushes his glass of juice closer and nods Evi-wards. "That's right. He's a Weyrling here. I'm visiting while I still can, and while Ciardyn here is visiting." She ruffles the kid's wavy dark-brown hair, and he grimaces, dodging away with a huff of laughter before stilling. The feline is closer, and oh, look. "ALL the time?" The boy breathes, watching the little clothed cat with wide eyes. "Wow. I wish I could have a kitty with me all the time. I bet she's real good, I'm real good when I get treats." Granted, he's absolutely speaking to the feline for the last bit there, but you know. Details.

Evangeline is practically beaming at the boy, her hand supporting her feline companion so that she can inch ever closer to the child. "Oh no, well at seven I would expect that you have a job and everything now." The teen's voice is full of loving teasing, her tone bouncing along with contentment. "Do you really? WOW." A small smile is given back to Citayla, her eyes brightening, and the tension is seeping from the teen like poison leaving the body. Leaning against her chair, letting her body relax into it, she takes a few small bites of her food before responding to Ciardyn, "You seem brave to me! I bet you can climb really well, and I am sure you're good at finding those firelizard eggs." The tone is only for children, loving and teasing with the right amount of interest set into it. "I, Monaco is nice, ma'am." Stiffness is back, her hands rubbing the kitten, her own personal worry stone. "The climate is alright, I guess… Excuse me ma'am, but this is is still so far from anywhere I have ever lived. People here, they are nice." The sadness has returned to her voice, a slight intake of breath and a frown filling her face. "I, I only lived in a hold Ma'am, the only dragon I had contact with was my Nana's." The woman rocks back and forth in her chair, one hand going under her butt as she fidgets with her feet and legs in obvious discomfort. "So… Eyepatch, man. He seems… Nice. Do all Weyr people have so many interests?" The nice is said with the tone of someone suggesting that another word probably fit better, like scary, or, creepy, one of those. The word interests seem the most prudent word, her head tilting to the side as if to hint that she means something else. A small smile is turned back to Ciardyn and curtains gets closer to him, "I think one of my kittens lives with you now, and if you're really good to him.. he might be able to go with you everywhere. You have to be patient, and make sure you always have treats." Lips purse outwards and glancing back at Cita the young lady leans down, "Make you a deal if you can train the kitten R'hyn has to do even ONE trick you can keep him." Genuine happiness fills her face, the satisfaction that comes with being able to give a gift to a child. Those cats are expensive too.

Ciardyn's little chest does its very best to swell up like Popeye's — he tips forward in his chair, chugs a few gulps of juice, the nods emphatically. "I do. Uncle lets us wind ropes, and he's gonna teach us to mend nets when we go back, me'n Yzi." The boy tells her, wide-eyed, like this is The Highest Honor. He huffs something like a laugh, though, rocking his chair back a little as he shakes his head. "No, no, s'not a real nest, it's where the firelizards perch on the boat. You go up there to get a look at the ocean 'round ya." The boy explains, animated, hands miming…climbing, or maybe the ocean, who actually knows. Cita definitely doesn't look super pumped about this, but she smiles still, a little strained as she pats the kid's head. She seems to notice the change in the refugee girl — and looks briefly chagrined, before her expression evens out, warm and apologetic. "I understand. Half Moon was very far from home for me. I did love it, though." The rider murmurs, picking at her salad a little. "Faranth, this much be such a change for you. I can't imagine. I'm from Landing; but we saw dragons often, and half my family's Impressed." She explains on a noise that might be laugh-adjacent, watching Ciardyn continue to shove his whole face full of food. Successfully, too! It's impressive. Talk of Ila distracts her after a beat, though, and Cita glances back at the girl. It takes a long beat of quiet for her to formulate an answer; a desire for privacy versus the desire to educate, perhaps, and the balancing act therein. Finally, though, the goldrider allows: "Not all. Some, though. It varies, really, depending on the individual. You'll find that Weyr…views are very different from a hold's. My mother fainted outright, when I brought them home the first time." A beat, and Cita grins, wry. "Now, she dotes on them like they're her own. Must send them more mail than me, even." She has to settle into silence then, though, because Ciardyn's wiggling has grown into full-on squirming as he finally senses a break in Grownup Talk and bursts: "Do-you-really-think-so-do-you-DO-YOU?" The boy gasps, but doesn't make too many sudden movements, mindful of the kitten; he settles for squirming, legs twitching, elbows on table as he llllleaaans forward. "Do you think I could do that? Wow!"

Each word out of the child's mouth elicits a small nod from Evangeline when he explains the nest she glances at Cita with surprise. "That sounds high up! Aren't you scared?" The tone is all play, though she side-eyes Citayla with a small conspiratory grimace. Curtains slowly slides over and will if allowed sit in the wiggling boy's lap and stare up at him, her velvet-soft face rubbing against the child's neck and chin. Evangeline's eyes fixate on Cita, each word is taken in, and after a second, the girl pulls out a piece of paper and a pencil from her pocket. The article is folded into a hasty trapezoid shape, and she unfolds it and begins to write things down. "Ok. " Every few sentences, she murmurs a small 'ok,' though her voice weakens and loses confidence as the information sinks in. "Your mother is supportive? Of…" One hand raises into the air, making a circular twirl at the wrist. The mingling of sadness and confusion coats her face, "My mother would disown me, I am going to marry a holder and help her and Pa. She would not faint, she would die." A quick breath before rapid questioning begins, "How, do you decide who… does the boy stuff?" Nose wrinkling with distaste. "Do you do all the girly stuff? Like cook, or clean, or laundry? Do you share everything?" Evi's cheeks are bright crimson and her lip curls in, a small 'mmmpphh' coming from her "Sorry, I am sorry, this is none of my concern." Glancing around for something to change the subject, she asks, "Do you know if your baby is a boy or a girl? When are you due? What is your favorite color?" The questions come out of pure nervousness, the energy level erratic as if maybe she can avoid offending Cita with a severe subject change before a nod is given back to Ciardyn, her hand moving into her pocket and pulling out a purple harness vest, and a leash. "You can! here, because you're going to be the best feline trainer on Pern you are going to need this." The harness is placed on the table near the boy.

"I'm not scared, Uncle Hallac is a mazillion turns old and his arms are very big, he can catch me." Ciardyn explains patiently, nodding very importantly. He's still in the middle of nodding when Curtains worms her way into his lap, and the boy stills, eyes very wide. "Hi, kitty. Wow, miss, she's really soft." The boy whispers, stroking one finger carefully down the side of the rubby neck. Cita's attention shifts between the kid and Evangeline, soft expression not wavering. It's too cute all around, she can't help it, okay. Maybe the note-taking triggers some sort of latent Journeyman-teacher instinct, though, because the rider continues calmly. "It's the way of life, in a Weyr. Things aren't so…shall we say, strict, when it comes to the duration of or specifics of interactions, if you get my meaning." A beat, and a little smile. "My mother understands that things are different, in Weyrs; but then, she had time to adjust, with my elder siblings. Riders don't usually marry. A dragon, well, it doesn't leave a lot of room for marriage." She glances down towards where Ilyscaeth is sunning herself, massive and pleasantly warm, in the bowl. "Children will always surprise, and even disappoint their parents, though." The healer doesn't go full your-life-is-your-own — perhaps that diplomacy training comes in handy sometimes, after all. That's for a later conversation, there. "We, ah…not as such? I'm banned from the kitchen, actually." Not gonna explain that one, Cita? Apparently not, since she continues, unruffled. "We eat from the Weyr's kitchens, with everybody else, usually. No, don't be sorry, now. You're learning. Learning is never wrong." This, the rider is firm in, head shaking once. Ciardyn makes a face like he's heard this refrain a hundred times, but Cita misses his tongue-sticking-out face, since she's smiling at Evi. "We're not sure! In, oh, four months? And, do you see Ily? That's it." GROSS. PLEH. Sappy rider. As for Ciardyn? He's gone from making faces at his mom to staring at Evangeline like she's given him the key to Xanadu, eyes wide, jaw slack. He doesn't move to disturb Curtains, but he does pick the purple vest and leash up with one hand, examining it wide-eyed. "Really? Honest?" The boy whispers, glancing between Cita and Evangeline.

Curtains rubs against the boy, a loud kitten purr erupting from her small feline body, rolling over in his lap and gently tapping his hands with her paws, no claws out just tiny paw taps. Evangeline makes a kissy face towards the kitty, wiggling her lip and nose in an I dream of genie sorta way. "I am impressed, I might come to get pointers from you if I ever have to be brave." Listening to Cita her arms cross over her chest, hands on her upper arms as if she is holding herself together. When the dragons are brought into it, her face lights up in understanding, light bulb and all. "Seeeeeee." Leaning in with mischievous twerk of her lips, "Nana said once that I am here because of her dragon, that Da was only born because of Dulacth." A small giggle escapes her seriousness, a hand going to her face and eyes darting as if someone will hear her and stop her. "Ma'am, you.. do you want to cook? I could teach you, I taught Kalyu, and she was barely eleven. I have to be able to cook because one day I will have lots of babies of my own to feed." Writing down some of what Cita says, her hand pauses and for half a moment her hand shoots up in the air as if she were in a harper lesson and then a blush takes over, tucking ear to shoulder apologetically. "Thank you. I am sorry I have taken so much of your time." The idea seems to be bouncing around in her head and then a sigh, and she tucks her one hand under her butt again, suppressing her own spirit of inquiry. "Ma would not like this, she did not want me here." Chin meets her chest, a resigned defeat in her features. "I know they miss me and need me, I was the one Ma trusted to cook, clean, and do the laundry. I hemmed up all the clothes and patched the holes, some nights we would boil numbweed or got dinner ready. Ma needs me." The sincerity cannot be matched, her sadness coloring her description of her duties, the girl has obviously lost a great deal of her purpose. "I don't think I am meant to be around Dragonriders, I am not helping anyone here." The piece of paper is folded back up, her eyes are almost tearing up, and she blinks several times. Eyes wander to the bowl, and she spots the dragon in question, "I could make your baby clothes or a blanket. A baby is always a blessing." A natural nurturer, she smiles down at Ciardyn with pained happiness, "Yes, it's all yours. He will follow you like a canine if you are good to him."

Noon's crowds are fading; the lunch rush is officially over, but the terrace is still relatively busy. Citayla, a little boy, and Evangeline are seated at one of the only tables with free space, nearest the edge of the little group of tables. It's not exactly pleasant, but it's a fine day — warm, humid, typically Monacoan summer. Evi's not the only one doin' the kissy-face; Cita pauses briefly in her debriefing on Weyr Things, caught by the purrs, and makes gooey kissy faces for a second. "Sweet baby. Look at you, you're perfect." The rider croons, happy, while Ciardyn ever-so-carefully scritches chin and ears. The boy nods, once, very serious as he clutches the harness in his free hand. "I'll help you." He tells the girl, serious, while Cita makes doe eyes at him, too. She doesn't miss that lightbulb, though, and rueful amusement flashes in a slanting grin for the holder girl. "Ah, yes," She agrees, tipping her head towards Ciardyn in a terribly unsubtle way. He, at least, misses it. "That's how a lot of our children come along." The rider adds, after a beat, seems to contemplate her next words carefully. "It doesn't mean the same, here, as it does in holds. Most riders will foster their children, sooner or later — ours are spending time with a friend of the family, for instance." Cita explains, smiling maybe a little ruefully down at the boy so enthralled by the feline. While he carefully avoids mussing the lil vest the kitten has on, the rider hums, head wobbling back and forth. "Oh, dear, they've tried. I'm afraid that kitchens just hate me, unreasonably. I can do everything right," That's a lie, obviously, but well. "And it still goes awry. It's not so bad: we have spectacular cooks." A quiet admission, trailing off as Evi explains — the explanation doesn't quite befuddle the rider, but she does look…sad? as she nods, glancing off across the bowl. "No need to apologize. Please. I'm enjoying your company: it's nice to talk, while I wait for my brother's friend's dragon to barf up the cot." Cita says this like it's a mundane observation, a light offset to the next: "Your family sounds very loving. I know what it's like to miss them, but you'll see them again. In the meantime, I don't know," A half-smile. "Do you need to help? You could always go to the headwoman, see if they need any help anywhere…if you don't mind me saying, you seem like you're great with kids. They always need help in the creche, no matter where you are." Says the healer who can't stand to spend any downtime without a book in-hand; she gets the need to be doing something, at least. It's Ciardyn who answers the last, though, still terribly wide-eyed. "You can make that? Are you a weaver, miss? I got a cousin who's a weaver. Did you make this?" The boy ventures, clutching the purple harness close to his chest and smiling. "You really think he will? Wait 'til I tell Yzi…"

Curtains is into all this love, rolling around happily and snuggling her face into the boy's chest purring loud enough that it can be heard by the entire table. Evangeline smiles softly at Cita's gooey talking to curtains, her hand giving the feline a small pat and pulling the coat down past her toosh in a momish gesture. Ciardyn receives her biggest smile, her head bobbing up and down, "You are most kind young sir, I will be seeking your advice the next time I need courage." Kindness with hints of humor color her tone and the hand that is not under her rump goes to her food. "Da and aunt Zoniya have the same father, and they both look like me." Pointing up to her nose, which is obviously the same nose of an infamous Weyrleader or two. "Nana sent Da away when he was three, to live in Ista…" Information coming from the teen to lend evidentiary support to what Cita is saying, and to prove she understands the lesson. "Don't you miss them? They are your babies, isn't that a woman's main duty to her home? To raise her babies?" A small bite to her lower lip and her hand gestures towards Ciardyn and then to the woman's stomach. "How can you stand not knowing if they're ok?" The voice coming out of the teen sounds slightly desperate as if somehow she knows how it feels to not know if the children are ok. At this moment she seems much older and burdened with the care of others. "Well, if you ever want me to help, you cannot be totally hopeless. Making cakes for turndays or, dinners for your… Weyrmates??" The word is searched for, and there's a question behind it as if she might not be using the term correctly. "Can be rewarding." Staring down at the table, her head bopping from side to side, lips curled in and one hand tracing the wood grain of the table. "My family is all I ever had." Tap, tap, tap, fingernails against the wood. "Maybe I could help in the creche, it's a good idea. I have been helping in the craft hall with sewing, but they only let me do hems and alterations. " A small nose wrinkle and her eyes roll back into her head, "Alterations are so BORING, the other day this woman came in, and she wanted me to somehow make a shirt THREE times bigger without adding any fabric. I told her I would see, but instead, I made her an entirely NEW shirt. Took half the day, and I got behind on my work. She was happy, though." A giggle escapes her, and a smile brings a flush of color to her face, chin tucking to her shoulder. Looking down at Ciardyn she nods, "Yes, I am. I have not worn anything I did not make myself in YEARS. Since I was only a little taller than you. When your kitten grows, have one of your grownups find me, and I will make sure he has all the clothes he needs. " Fumbling in her pockets, another piece of paper appears. On this piece of paper is at least a dozen designs for cat clothes, full cat riding suits, jackets, hats to cover the ears, leg warmers, in the center of the sheet is a FULL cat onesie, made for a person obviously. "I can make all kinds of things, I can make people clothes too." She assures him with a grin.

“You can come see me on Uncle's boat any time. I betcha Ily can find us. Xermi said he always would, if we needed." The boy reports solemnly, still one-handedly scritch-scritching away like it's his job. Cita watches with amusement, glancing back across the bowl at the distant din of Ilyscaeth spotting somebody — one or both of their 'mates, no doubt. "Come to think of it, I've seen that nose, somewhere." The rider murmurs, thoughtful, head tilting this way and that. "I can't place it." Look. She's super pregnant. She's got brains for days, but most of them are in progress, here. IT'S FINE. She'll remember that Z'tan Impressed from Ily's first clutch eventually. As for missing the kids, Cita blanches a little, eyes downcast. She takes a beat to respond, glancing sideways at Ciardyn, who may or may not be listening around petting the kitten. "I miss them every day." She murmurs. "But my duty is to my Weyr; to Ilyscaeth. That's just part of it. There are riders who do raise their children, entirely, but they're having fun. They're learning valuable skills, adventuring, meeting other people around the world…it's not so bad. They stay at home 'til they're ready to go, anyways. Ciardyn wanted to go with his big sisters when they left when he was four, but." The rider flicks the boy's chin, smiles at him crookedly. "There's a variety of ways that riders handle it. No one solution." Cita concludes, smile a little wistful as she look out across to Ily. "I trust the people they're with," Is not, maybe, the solution for Evi, but Cita doesn't have an answer for everything, unfortunately. "I trust that they're as safe there as they are here. Nothing's perfect, I suppose. Thank you, though. I can't imagine Ila's surprise if I made him a cake, or Ryn." You know. The terrified surprise of a man who's not sure what he did to deserve being poisoned. IT'S FINE. "I might take you up on that, once Ily's done with her eggs." It only takes a beat for her to add, thoughtful: "Have you thought of speaking with the weavers? I'm certain they have somebody posted here. With that kind of skill, I bet they'd be delighted to take you on." There's a longer beat, while Cita goes quiet, eyes narrowed and gaze distant as she glances back in the dragon's direction. Ciardyn seems to take this as his cue, and pipes up, bright. "Wow! You made her a whole new shirt? How do you make clothes, is it hard? Do you cut them out like paper? I could make paper clothes for the kitten. I bet they'd be scratchy, though," The boy tips his head, frowning thoughtfully down at Curtains; before he catches sight of those designs, and lights up. "Oh. Wow, that's a lot of clothes, that's really neat, you must really like to sew." He rattles, wide-eyed, tracing the harness-hand's thumb across a design. Unfortunately for the both of them, Citayla comes back 'round with a rueful kind of sigh. "Evangeline," The rider murmurs, smiling sadly. "I'm afraid we've got to go. Our visit with Tyr'ie is going to have to wait, love," This, for Ciardyn, apologetic. He gently sets the kitten in Evi's lap, looking only a little mopey. "We have a meeting to get to; I forgot that I was meant to be there. I'll forget my sharding eyes, next." Cita huffs, and stands — pauses, reluctant. "The headwoman will help you settle in, if you give her a chance. Don't be afraid to talk, okay? I hope I'll see you, when we come back to Monaco." That seems to satisfy the rider's need to reassure the girl, but Ilyscaeth's distant rumble of noise is enough to get her moving. Ciardyn waves as his mom moves off, smiling. "You're really nice! I'll see you soon! I'll give your kitten a hug from you when I get home, okay!"

Evangeline’s eyes light up at the mention of a boat, a solemn nod of her chin towards Ciardyn. "I might need to come to see you, who knows when I will need your advice. Expect a visit for suresies." Hands cross in front of her onto the table, eyes narrowing a bit at the child as she realizes that she might be making the situation hard on the weyrwoman. Sharply she breathes in, listening and nodding with a softness in her eyes that gleams of deep understanding, as if somehow in a way she was a mother once too. With as many siblings as she has, she was their mother in some ways, and the loss might feel similar. "So, the Weyr is your main baby… I guess, as a goldrider that is probably to be expected. I will never have that problem. "The finality in her tone leaves no room for question, it's spoken with a tone that indicates the absolute fact. "My people aren't really, dragon-riding material." Her shoulders move up and down with hands out to her side, what can she do. "At least they seem happy, you are doing a good job with what you have been handed." It's not an insult, the sweetness and softness of her tone somehow gentles slightly. A rueful smile comes over her face, nodding several times with some speed about the cake. "Yes, anytime you need a cake or some dinner, I live here in Monaco, but I visit Nana once every Four sevendays, and I would gladly cook or help you not burn anything." Tiny mirth filled laughs are suppressed with her lastwords like anyone actually burns food. A meat roll is consumed, silence about going to see the weavers. "My mother has been hoping to wait to send me off, she wanted me to be a little older." Her shoulders go back, and her head goes up, "But I guess if she isn't here, then she won't know will she?" Rebellious and a tad challenging, the meekness disappears for one whole sentence before her head drops, "That wasn't polite…" Words full of shame and a crease forming between her eyebrows, her eyes are on Ciardyn. The young boy gets all the best smiles from Evi, the octave in her voice drips sincere and joyful kindness as she responds to him. "Yes, she got a whole new shirt, and I got to dye and sell the other one. "Mischief in her little snort-laugh, "If you make anything nice out of paper, I will put it on fabric for you. It's the best I can do if you're going to help me be brave." A solemn nod to the boy and her eyes focus on Cita again, head bobbing like a bobblehead doll as the woman prepares to depart, "No this was lovely, thank you for letting me sit you. I am not afraid to talk Ma'am, I am afraid of how people might respond." A sad wave is given as they depart, her eyes downcast and said below her breath, where maybe no one but her can hear it she murmurs "Goodbye nice lady, new.. friend.. Little boy. I'll just stay here." Sinking into her chair and petting her kitten in her lap, she strokes curtains and finishes up her meal in silence.

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