A Delicate Undertaking

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.

Mid-afternoon at Xanadu Weyr and the daily activities are well underway. The weather is fair, overcast with a scattering of clouds that provide scant protection from the blaring sun. Standing at one end of the Meadow is Oddisa, though she is hardly visible because she is squatting down next to a beautiful bay runnerbeast. The animal is about 15'3 hands tall, black mane perfectly braided down his neck, and forelock braided down his nose between his eyes. The shine of the creature's coat bespeaks care of the utmost quality; he is wearing a leather halter attached by a leather lead. The lead wrapped carefully three times around a hitching post. Next to his back end, about mid flank are two metal buckets, one bucket looks to be full of water, and the other is full of clothes, between the two buckets is a pile of clothes that appear to be covered in dirt. Yes, it's dirt. Don't question this. The tiny blonde pixie is squatting with her back to the beast's nose, hand up between its back legs. "LEG DOWN.DONTCHA DARE.." You can hear her slick childish voice ring out.

Tejra really is the sort of person to sneak up on the unsuspecting, using her habitual grace to get wherever she wants with minimal noise or fanfare. She is also, however, both intelligent enough and experienced enough with runners to understand the dangers of sneaking up on a runner, particularly one who has such a tiny girl squatting near all those powerful limbs. So, as the Harper comes along in one of her flowier ensembles of brown pantaloons and loose blue shirt, knotless as seems to be her wont, her hands holding a handful of wildflowers probably drawn from the meadow itself, she strikes up a whistle that carries a jaunty sort of dancing tune as fair warning. It gets louder as she approaches the young woman and the beast. "And what have we here?" It's the sort of inquiry that speaks thoughts aloud, perhaps not expecting a response to the question itself since she's stopping near enough to look over the scene more closely.

The closer one gets, the more apparent it would be that the slight girls left hand is mid-forearm deep in the sheath (penis area) of the runner gelding. The small blonde has her left cheek pressed into the abdomen of the runnerbeast, eyes locked on the animals right back foot as it's about 4 feet from her face and arm. As she registers the whistle, her blue eyes wander up, scanning her surroundings and locking onto Tejra with a curt nod. She is a little busy, but she acknowledges her and says, "Hello." There's not a single sign that she is going anything at all unusual; she might as well be weeding a garden. After a few seconds of what HONEST to FARANTH looks like digging around in this animals genitals the girl pulls the cloth out and straightens up. Knowing eyes exam the debris on the fabric, and she shakes her head, "Not done, sorry boy." An affectionate pat is given to the animal's shoulder, and she turns to Tejra, looking up at the much taller woman and smiling coyly. "It's a dirty job, no one likes it. Got small hands, makes good marks." As if suddenly, this explains why she is molesting this runner.

Tejra's face is serene at rest and this means that she rarely looks as discomposed as she might feel. Her steps stop as she gets close enough to see-but-not-see, and were she other than she is, she might direct her feet along a different path. Instead, the redhead hazards a few steps closer before stopping again, still not overly near. Her elegantly arched brows draw down as she impassively assesses what she's seeing, or what she thinks she's seeing, and it might be downright amazing to some that she manages to keep her melodic voice even when she inquires so casually, "And what is the job?" Because, frankly, the Harper has no idea and she probably isn't 100% sure she wants to know, but as they say: knowledge is power.

Oddisa had to expect this question was coming, I mean, who wouldn't ask. Her 'clean' right hand is waved in a, come this way manner, and she squats down and points to the runner's dangly bits. "Yu see, once yu chop their second brains off, they can't clean themselves. Somethin' to do with the oil produced by hormones, so they get dirt an' skin built up. Makes um itchy an' eventually blocks them from pissin'." Oddisa's childlike voice mixed with the broken speech ages her as if someone had trapped an adult woman in this child's body. "Depending on the animal, yu have to clean it a few times a turn. Some love it. Some kick and squeal." Demonstrating to Tejra she picks up a cloth, dipping it in water and then inserting the ENTIRE rag into the runner's goody sack, like a perverse magic trick her hand follows the fabric up the rabbit hole. With a few turns of her arm, hand moving back and forth, she pulls the rag out, and it is peppered with lumpy black secretions. EW. There's no odor to it, but. EW. The more you know.

Come hither? To look at runner netherbits? WHO WOULDN'T JUMP ON THAT OFFER? Tejra, that's who. The Harper takes one step closer, but that is absolutely it. She does listen to the apprentice's explanation of the task and the reason for its necessity. There is a pregnant pause when the young woman finishes and does her perverse magic trick. Tej's blue eyes flicker closed, and her lips press together, but she manages to open her eyes again after a moment. "I see." Two words are enough, right? She glances down at the buckets and back up at girl and beast. It's pure coincidence that in spite of the lack of smell she puts her wildflowers up to her face and inhales. "Well, I'll leave you to it then." Because who wouldn't? The last thing the Harper wants to be is a distraction to the delicate task.

Oddisa is not much of one for chasing down company, if we are honest. A small wave is given to Tejra and she leans down and drops the dirty cloth before putting her hand back up where the sun don't shine. "Yu goin' anywhere fun? I am nearly done an' then I get a lunch." The comment is casually offered to the older girl as she starts cleaning anew. Little sniggers come from her, as if possibly she find the whole situation a touch amusing. "If yu get to the caverns, an' there's a spikey brown haired bluerider lookin' all the world like she's jus' eatin someones babe. Tell her Odi's here an' she owes me a ride." Listen, not everything that goes into animal husbandry is pretty. Then as an after thought, "OH! An' if yu see a girl dressed in bright colors head to toe, lookin' all the world like she's lost to the world, candidate knot, tell her the same. Cept' the ride thing." Tejra must be giving off a messenger air, or the girl is just RUDE. Who is to say really.

"It depends on what fits within your definition of fun." Tejra's voice holds wry humor as a graceful sweep of her arm encompasses the apprentice and the runner and the dirty cloths on the ground. "If this fits, what I have next may well not." Obviously this doesn't fit into Tej's definition. She shifts a step back, pulling one of the flowers from her little bunch and tucking it into her hair. "I'm sure your ride will find you," the redhead's smile is lazy. It might hint at the fact that she's not committing herself to helping deliver any messages, but it is a very diplomatic response. "Best of luck with your task, apprentice." With that, the older teen will turn to take her leave, her graceful gait carrying her away from girl, runner, and dirty rags swiftly enough even though she's not hurrying. Her path appears to be taking her not toward the Caverns but toward the forest.

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