Xanadu Weyr - Garden
An arch woven from the tendrils of a willow tree stretches overhead lightly creeping with ivy as one steps in from the meadow into this sanctuary of green. Cool gray flagstone carefully spaced enables a soft velvety moss to thrive within the cracks, and creates a single wide pathway that fluidly breaks off into two paths of stone once free of the natural arbor. It is a wonder this place, and meticulously tended from the way it seems not a single leaf is out of place.
On either side of the main path expansive grassy patches are trimmed short and edged behind with natural tan colored stone selectively chosen to stack just right. Beyond these are a line of fine puffed shrubberies in vibrant green intermingled with flowering bushes of brilliant pinks varying in hue from the very light to the very dark, which causes the occasional snowy white blossoms of other scattered here and there without worry to simply pop out of the scenery.
Directly in the center of the garden is another wall of intricately stacked stone, this of muted grays, creating what from the air would prove to be a perfect circle. It's been set high for safety, but not so much as one would not be able to lean over it to admire what lies beyond, either standing or sitting at the smattering of benches whose backs are set every four feet along it. Flush to the ground inside it's protective stone outcropping, is an enormous twenty foot wide fish pond. Within one can glean the metallic glint of playful goldfish, the unhurried cruise of fat koi, and even a frog or three among pale yellow and white flowering water lilies and their thick green pads.
The trees surrounding the entire garden were planted to give the impression that they had always been here, not only lending to a rustic look, but also alluding to the beauty that can be found among the wilds if only one might just look for it. Species vary from the ordinary Birch and Pine, but the flaming red capsules of the Indian Shot to the robust orange spokes of the Firewheel tree suggest the spice of the exotic.
Up in the sky, the colors are softly turning from eye-blinding blue to a pale peach as the day tumbles to a close. Warm, sticky humidity has been made far worse by the onslaught of a random summer thunderstorm that has extruded every scent from the garden. Slowly circling above, the dark and striped sky feline Neifeth plunges towards the earth and lands, as close to the garden entrance as she can get without being inside the boundaries. Atop her neck sits Evi, dressed in bamboo green riding leathers, the color of first spring not broken up by any other shade. Bright and dark and not much in between, the two are contrast in motion as she moves into the garden at a fast clip and sighs, crossing her arms uncomfortably and muttering. "We are early." To no one in particular, though, her lifemate remains to block the entrance. Anyone who needs in can wait, behind her, where they belong. As far as approachability, this green is a 1 on the 1-10 scale; she's sharp from her tapered muzzled to the visible teeth preventing anyone from forgetting she has them.
There are some projects that just can't be put off to finish until the next day. This is something that Kasle has learned very well over the turns. The gardener is elbow deep in replanting a flowerbed, the little seedlings wilting slightly in the summer heat. She only has two left before she can call it a night and finally go eat dinner. Not that there's likely to really be much dinner left, but that's the advantage of having a father that is a baker! He always makes sure that she has something tasty after finishing for the day. Something more than just soup or cereal, "Two more, Nimare." The little green firelizard helping her trills brokenly and looks up at her friend as Kas holds up her fingers about six inches apart, "Two more, about that deep." The near black little beasts claws rip into the soil enthusiastically to dig holes for the new plants while the dark haired woman finishes patting the dirt down around another.
"Ah." It's a singular sound that announces R'hyn's arrival into Kasle's space, for once devoid of the early-warning klaxxon of his flocks - human, animal, or otherwise. There is no Xermiltoth to herald his approach, no wheel of firelizards or tangle of felines to trip him up and cause a fuss, no children squealing and dragging him along; it's just him, office attire rolled up at the sleeves, too-elaborate knot disappeared to someplace else in favor of an attempt at a casual stroll down the path away from the greenhouse. "I was going to offer you a hand, but it seems you have ample assistance." This is noted with an amused look at the little green tunneling into the loam, friendly gaze lifting to fixate on Kasle with a little wave hello. "What are you planting?" Color him curious, that selfsame curiosity dragging in Evi's direction as she enters in her dragon's wake, blue-grey eyes flicking over her posture before noting, "Someone looks lost." Or at least lost without whatever (whomever?) they came for, words pitched loud enough that it's practically an invitation for the greenrider to expound on those hallmarks of uncomfortable impatience, should she wish.
Neifeth arches her neck and snorts a response to her riders discomfort, blinking with such derision if her eyes weren't always whirling you'd swear they rolled. Evi's arms cross tightly, sticking her tongue out with a mocking sneer. Single-minded, she overlooks R'hyn for half a second, mind far from focused as he appears like a terrible magician. Staring up at the tall Weyrleader, she shrugs a shoulder, "No, Weyrleader, waiting." Using his title, her normally perky voice formal, and she stiffens in posture in mock regality. This is until her eyes catch on the bells in Kasle's braids, lips peeling into a gleeful grin and mouth dropping open. "Um, so, I don't mean to interrupt you but," But she's going to, but the energetic flow of her soft voice helps her get away with a lot, "Where did you get them?" Pointing to the woman vaguely. "Like, exactly where." Leaning down to get closer, there's a wiggle of joy, all the terrible ideas causing visible excitement. Or possibly she's excitable. It's really anyone's guess.
Kasle starts, catching herself on both hands in the soft turned earth before she actually lands face first in the young plants she's so carefully placed, and squeeks in surprise at the voice that invades the quiet peace of her work. She recovers quickly, though, pushing herself back upright, and sits back on her heels with one hand over her now racing heart. Wow… She really should start paying attention while she's working. You'd think she'd have learned that after growing up with a certain young hunter for a brother! She looks up at R'hyn, blinking owlishly for a moment at his question, "Huh? Oh. Snapdragons. It'll take a while, but they'll be really pretty in this area." Then he's calling out to Evi and the gardener finally notices the other visitor and her dragon blocking the entrance. She lifts one dirt covered hand in greeting, opening her mouth to speak, but closes it with a snap when she hears that the man is the Weyrleader. Her eyes widen and she scrambles to her feet, "I, uh… Sorry, sir. I didn't recognize you." Not that she's ever had reason to interact with him before. She is, after all, just a lowly gardener. Then Evi is asking about the bells in her hair, "My- my bells?" She blinks a couple of times, one hand coming up to touch them lightly, making them chime, "I don't really remember. Some trader that came through when I was young. I've had them practically forever."
Dangit, Evi. This is why we can't have nice things. R'hyn flicks Evangeline an unamused look for the use of his title (if only because of what it has started), hands lifting out of pockets to pat-pat the space in the air before him. "Shh, not so loud. Someone might hear you and come looking for something," pitches slowly to a loud whisper, a conspirator's lean aimed in their direction. "Good." He's glad not to be recognized. "I'm incognito." No knot, see? Fingers flick the space where the vibrant tangle should be, grin darting across his features. "I don't think we've had occasion to meet, regardless. R'hyn." There's no request for her identity, the responsibility of that reveal on Kasle herself as he leans back enough to make space for the greenrider's enthusiastic invasion. Faint warmth touches his gaze, renders his smile slightly less plastic-polite and slightly more personal as he, too, notes the twining of bells amongst braids. "Clever," he murmurs, following it with a, "are they just braided into your hair? I'm always looking for something new to try with my girls," explained as he finds a perch on the nearby retaining wall, one leg stretched out before him so he can rub at the space around the knee. The subject of snapdragons briefly abandoned in the hubbub, he instead says, "Anyways, hopefully they'll be along. Shame to keep you waiting." This for Evi's benefit, though hopefully the wait won't be to dull, with bells and baubles to discuss.
With a last, longing look around the garden, Evi unfastens her left riding glove and stares at a watch with an anxious tap given to the face as if it might make time click by faster. With time travel failing, at least this form of it, she steps towards the two people. Carefully keeping a bubble of space, she fiddles with the snap on her glove, fastening and unfastening it continuously, fingers tracing the watch face, tapping. A ritual fidget that occupies her mind even as there's talking and straightening, which triggers a mild eye roll from the greenrider, "He's fine." She says with a huff in time for the shushing. There's a conspiratory giggle granted to R'hyn, both shoulders going up as her mouth splits in a bright smile to have put a minor wrinkle in his day. "Wellll /while// you're here." Dragging out the words with an abundance of sweetness, that is absolute trouble before there's a pop of lips and a pouty sigh of her stopping her own fun. Scooting ever closer to Kasle, a hand goes up, fingers pinching the air with a desire to grab at the silver objects. "I was thinking cats, mine could use bells, and I have a few outfits that could benefit." Every few minutes, her one hand still busy with it's unsnapping and resnapping, she sidesteps closer, one-shoulder responding with a dismissive exhale, "I'm sorta half an hour early, so it's not anyones fault but my own." Nodding excitedly at the hair idea she chimes in, "I'm in Igen tomorrow. Maybe they will have bells. If they do, I'll bring you some." Putting the idea forth, with a jiggle side to side, all puppy energy, "Can you eat snapdragons?" Honest curiosity with a mild bounce from heel to toe.
Kasle can't help it. She giggles, a little burbling laugh that's almost lost in the twitter of avians settling in for the night in the surrounding trees, covering her smile with the back of one wrist. Her eyes dance merrily and she nods at the notion that the Weyrleader doesn't want to be recognized. She drops her hand as her little green finishes digging the last of the holes she needs and flies up to curl around her neck, a living necklace of near black and vicious looking talons that's even more dusted in damp soil than her friend, "Kasle. And this is Nimare." She gives the firelizard's eyeridge a small rub, earning a warble and soft thrum of pleasure. She nods, chiming again, "They've got small hooks so I can take them out when I need to without messing my hair up too badly." She would demonstrate, but dirty hands on shining bells would mean that they need to be washed, too. She gives Evi an amused, vaguely concerned look, blinking again, and sighs, holding up one belled braid for the rider to fondle, "They're really easy to put in, and the hooks could be pinched closed to stay on collars." Or completely removed to be sewen onto cloth. gives a silent huff of laughter at Evi being early, but doesn't comment further. The next question gets a small frown as she thinks on the edibility of snapdragons. Finally, she shrugs, "Well, you could, I guess. They're not toxic, or anything. They just don't have much flavor."
"Well met, Kasle," is said like R'hyn means it, tones threaded with genuine pleasure, "And Nimare. You're a pretty little thing," comes with a rummage into pockets, producing nibbles kept for just such occasions, the weyrleader likely one to encounter his fair share of firelizards throughout his day, for messages, summons, and otherwise. Blue-greys flick to the gardener, asking her permission with his eyes before giving the treat over or tucking it back away, as appropriate. "You work here, I assume? In the gardens?" It isn't a stretch, but listen, amateur gardeners wouldn't be the strangest thing he's seen in his line of work. Which, speaking of, work - the dreaded words! R'hyn squints into that 'while you're here,' waiting for it to not be a joke, waiting for the trap to spring and for him to have to fulfill Evi's request when, "It's hot, and it's gross, and it's definitely too much of both of those things to do work." DENIED, even though a sharp grin of his own implies he knows she was only teasing; he's just playing along, knee folding back inwards with a self-conscious shift, as though he's only just realized what he's doing and is correcting it. "Mmm. I'm sure Ila wishes our cats had bells on. They might trip him on the stairs less." And yet it would deprive R'hyn of the joy of overhearing muffled curses from the room beyond, and so he gently shakes his head for Evi's offer. "That's alright. It's something they'd probably enjoy picking out themselves, and we've been meaning to go on an outing, now that the littlest littles can handle themselves. If you find suitable ones," a nod towards Kasle for her explanation of how they can be bent and clipped, "let me know." So this doesn't become a chaotic Pern-wide search for The Right Bells. The subject of snapdragons returns, and R'hyn eyes the wilty plants with curiosity before expanding his gaze around them, into the gardens at large. "I'll be honest, I don't even know what a snapdragon looks like." It's an invitation for the gardener to show some off, if ever there was one.
The offered hair is everything Evi has ever wanted in her entire life; you'd think she'd been handed some grand prize of massive value with the squeak that escapes her lips. All the joy in the world as she's skipping forward and turning the black strand to examine every facet with eyes shining happily. She's a grown-up, by most conventional definitions, but it's questionable in moments like this. Gently the bell is stroked, taking care to avoid the sharper parts of the green firelizard. "Nice to meet you Kasle, and Nimare. You're such a fancy lady." Complimenting before delicately placing the strand of hair back and hopping backward, allowing her butt to find a wall similar to R'hyns. Fully settled with ankles crossed, she takes up swinging her feet back and forth, allowing the slight bounce of boot heels to propel them forward with each motion. "Lots of things are edible and tasteless, we have candidates in the kitchens right now, and I can tell." Scrunching her nose up with mild disgust, as Neifeth stretches further past the archway to loom overhead, ", Um, well, You may call me Evi, Kasle, and you may call her." Poking up with one finger at the splotchy dark green who has (thankfully) been relatively quiet, "Nei, or Neith, whichever you like works." She's been telling this lie for so long it comes off the tongue without hesitation, "Ila'den should um, not be tripping at his um-" She almost says at his age, but stops herself, a hand going to mouth, "Height." Is squeaked out, and a laugh nearly escapes, "He's um, tall." Back to a safer subject, after another glance at her watch. "Plant things seem nice, if I can come along." Asking politely, one hand reaching upward to run along the dragon's underjaw, arms barely long enough to reach.
Nimare perks when the treat is produced, half-uncurling from around Kasle's neck and crawling menicingly down the gardener's chest. The little green shakes out her wings, making a strange clack-clicking sort of sound that sets the teeth on edge, "Nope!" Kas quickly grabs for her suddenly scary little friend and blushes deeply, "Sorry… Um… She's kind of… She gets very agressive when it comes to food. I don't want her to accidentally bite you." The firelizard turns to hiss at her person, writhing in an effort to escape and pounce on the tidbit, probably shredding R'hyn's hand with those deadly looking claws in the process, but does eventually settle after being tucked under the dark haired woman's arm. She patiently lets Evi examine her hair and the bells strung on it to her heart's content, "It really is a soothing sound, though." Her expression turns a little shy and sad, "It's helped a lot the last couple of months." There is no elaboration coming, not voluntarily, at least. When her hair is released, she offers a small bow, accompanied by a grumble from Nimare, to the green dragon and her rider, "Well met, Evi. Neith, you are looking beautiful today." It never hurts to suck up to a dragon, right? She can't help but giggle at the mention of Ila'den's height, black eyes dancing at the obvious correction. Then there are questions about plants and she perks up, "Oh, snapdragons are gorgeous! They're about this tall," She holds a hand level about three feet from the ground, "and can be loads of different colors." She gestures with her free hand at the flowerbed she's been working on, "These should be a mix of red, pink, and white. The flowers are super pretty. Not huge, but there are a lot of them!"
R'hyn doesn't need to be told twice. "That's alright," is amicable as the treat returns to the pocket from whence it came, seeming no worse for wear despite the threat the clackering firelizard presents. "My Gred is much the same way. I've waited a long time for him to find some way to murder me in the night, but I suppose, fifteen turns into it, maybe he's decided I'm alright." Or maybe he's playing the long game, that shrug implies; either way, the man isn't bothered. If anything, there's more concern for the gardener than for himself, an edge of worry in his gaze for the mention of the bell's soothing jingle helping her through a difficult time. "Is everything alright?," contains a professional edge if only to spare her having to explain something she might not want to, casual, easy for her to dismiss if the topic - in front of strangers, in front of him - is too much to discuss. But if there's something he should address, well… He'll leave that to her. R'hyn lets talk flow away from the subject naturally just in case, a spark of amusement hitting his eyes for Evangeline's assessment of candidate-made food, one hand finding stone, his weight shifting sideways onto it. "Better tasteless than the things your cycle did to our kitchens. I've never been subjected to so much spice." And judging by his tone, he'd dearly love to never have to be again. "That's Cita's wheelhouse." The swing of Neifeth's head into the gardens earns a glance and a small smile, and though it would be poetic justice for the weyrleader to accidentally out the dragon's real name in return for the production of his title, it is instead a, "Good evening, Nei," that welcomes her into the melange before R'hyn's gaze cuts hard towards Evi's hand-covered face. He knows what she was about to say, that look says, intense, daring her to say it, smile slowly spreading when she changes tack. "Trust me when I say his height doesn't hamper him in the least," comes with an edge, but it's quite possible it's just the man holding back laughter of his own. Ample amusement is certainly playing around the corners of his lips by the time he returns his attention to Kasle, listening intently through her explanation before uttering a, "Huh. Will they bloom before turn's end? I would like to see that." And will make a point of returning, but Evi's indication she will come along for a plant tour has the bronzerider rising to his feet. "Are there any other beds you've put together? I'd like to see them, since this one clearly needs some time. If it wouldn't be too much of an imposition."
As there's nearly a handless Weyrleader at the talons of a feisty firelizards, Evi smirks, sighing again as time still refuses to move faster and her eyes glaze over in quiet conversation, drifting up to the muzzle that's resting on her fingertips. Look, y'all, she's holding up the whole dragon. Lips thinning with whatever was exchanged, she frowns at Kasle with sympathy. "If it helps, then it's a good thing." A definite nod, fingers slowly sweeping up as both arms are now gripped onto the snippy muzzle, fingers intermingling among teeth with no care for the pointy ends. The compliment elicits a sincere smile from the rider, "I'll save you a headache and say thank you for her." R'hyn's silence on Nei's name garners him a thankful look, holding her breath and preparing for the nasty fight that would ensue should he dare out the faeish green's cover. "I'm glad to hear he's not suffering from being too tall, and you know our food was delicious. Cita's got the bestest taste." Her devotional love for her surrogate weyrmother is hard to miss, slipping into silence to allow others to speak and massaging the dragon's gum line with zero sign that she even thinks about what she's doing, far past the point where this is bizarre to her. Glazing over entirely, she slips out of attention, and only when R'hyn rises is there a tiny oh, of surprise, "Would you um, know if they last through the winter? Or are they uh- what's the word? Are they, um, seasonal? Nooo. Well, you know." Allowing herself to be lifted to her feet and gently placed down on the flagstone, Nei's decided she's following, and there's no argument. "Oh, um Weyrl-R'hyn, she says thanks… for the trip to Fort." It sounds like sarcasm, and the comment is cryptic, Evi not helping with the flat tone as riders tend to have when carrying on more than one conversation.
There's another giggle at the thought of a firelizard plotting to murder their friend and Kasle shakes her head with another chorus of jingles. The question about her being alright earns a quiet sigh and a shrug as she holds Nimare a little tighter and strokes a finger over the now crooning green's head, "My little brother lost one of his firelizards to a wild feline a couple months ago." Her voice drops to a near whisper, "He was trying to protect us…" Fortunately, they got out of it, mostly, unscathed, "Logain's a candidate, now, and at least he still has Slate, but… poor Orne…" And poor Logain… She looks back up at the two riders and can't help but chuckle, though the sound is a little strained, "Papa always complains about at least one candidate, every single time." She just shakes her head at the conversation about Ila'den, but nods when they return to flowers, "There won't be a lot of blooms this turn, but they should come back for next turn and they bloom all through summer." She blushes a little at the request to see some other beds and gestures to a small sea of red poppies surrounded by bright orange marigolds, "I planted those. And there's a bunch of violets and orchids in the greenhouse that are a pet project of mine." She doesn't mention the sea of greenery she keeps in her room. Evi's… odd affection with Neifeth is completely ignored. Hey, Kas grew up in the Weyr. She's used to dragons that like strange things, and now there's one that likes gum massages! She nods, "These will die out when it gets cold, but, as long as the flowers have time to mature and go to seed, we'll have lots more come spring." Her eyes dance at the thought of not having another bed to plant next turn, "We'll probably put something in on top of them for winter coverage, but it shouldn't bother them too much." She looks back and forth between the two for a moment at the cryptic comment from the greenrider, but shrugs. It's rider business and none of hers.
"Ah." There's that lone sound again, but this time it's tinged with borrowed sadness, lines of concern reforming between brows and around lips. "I'd heard about that, but I didn't know it was you. I'm sorry for you both. To experience that loss during an already frightening time…" It is its own form of tragedy. He doesn't have to say it, and so he doesn't try, instead offering a gentle clasping of his hand to her shoulder, if she'll allow it, a singular friendly gesture of sympathy. There's a nod to Evi for her words - any comfort is positive - but if there's more to say on the subject, it will not come from him. He lets Evi's commentary sweep him away, laughter coming in one sharp bark. "Delicious," comes sotto voce, "right." It's not what he'd call it, but he does allow, "She does have good taste in most things, however." Defenses of both his weyrmates concluded, the weyrleader is free to focus on other topics, some of the teasing amusement in his poise seeping away for Evi's translation of Neifeth's thoughts. His smile lingers as though he suspects the sarcasm is mostly the dragon's, the words themselves mostly of Evangeline's making, but his nod is quick and simple, the gentling of his body and his voice telling about the nature of that comment. "Of course. My door is always open," perhaps has just as many unspoken meanings, but he doesn't explicate on a single one of them. Instead, he refocuses his attention back on Kasle, that potential energy that always seems to lie under his skin returning as he ambles towards the indicated flowers, thumbing fragile poppy leaves with just enough pressure to enjoy their texture without damaging the blossom before shooting her a surprised look. "You're the one caring for the orchids?" This seems to have shifted her in his esteem somehow, gaze coursing over her anew before drifting back to the flower bed. "It's obvious you put a lot of care and work into this. I don't know if it gets said enough, but thank you for it." There's another speculative glance thrown her way, a more cautious one pointed at Neifeth, and then his gaze, too, goes to that riderly middle-distance, eyes tightening through a mental conversation, allowing the two girls to talk, if they will, while he is distracted.
Beyond how /lost/ she appears the words from Kasle have her eyes narrowing and mouth opening in surprise, "Where were you?" Voice snippy with concern, shuddering at the entire thought as a tiny whimper escapes her throat. "The poor thing.. I couldn't imagine." Losing a firelizard is far too close to dragon loss for her comfort, gutted with emotion. They're a young pair, lack of years, and the bond's intensity makes it feel fragile, and the thought spiral is brought up by a bump from Neifeth's lower forelimb to her riders back. Simply translated as /quit/ I'm like, right here. PSH. It works, and the minor panic ebbs away like the fading daylight. "There's usually one or two, um, we were perfect." AT LEAST AS CANDIDATES, right? Okay, so let's ignore the fire and the possible destruction of Weyr property and all the camping equipment usage. Even with it being a mocking agreement, Evi nods, "It had to have been good food because you still remember it." Stating with a flourish of fingers before pulling her gloves off completely and stuffing them in a pocket. Bending down to examine the poppies, her finger traces the round edge, sniffing each type of bloom to see if she can get a whiff of anything. No real luck. "Orchids are so finicky me and-." A full stop, she almost says a name but avoids it. "I had some once; they didn't make it." Melancholy taints the words before responding to R'hyn, a wry pursed-lip sassy headshake for his open door. "Venturing into the leadership area is just asking for more work. Last time I didn't even get to your hallway before J'erom had me off to Benden to fetch this super smug smithcrafting journeyman who, if you could believe it, commented on Nei's size." THE NERVE, offended for her mount, as she brushes gently over the marigolds. "We should be friends if only so you can teach me to keep an Orchid alive." Settling that as if the bell laden gardener had no choice. She nearly offers firelizard eggs but stops herself because she's well aware that you can't replace one love with another. That's not how any of it works.
Kasle offers a slightly wavering smile at the comforting touch, "I just watched it happen. Logain got scratched up pretty bad and lost one of his friend. I stepped wrong and twisted my ankle." They're both healed now, mostly, though. At least physically. She looks over at Evi and grimaces, "Out past the weyrs in the forest, where the trees get really thick. I- Logain shot at it and it was bleeding when it got away. I think one of the firelizards managed to take an eye." With the food out of sight for a little while, and her friend needing comfort, Nimare has settled, resting her chin on the back of the gardener's hand. With the vicious little green calmed, she lifts the firelizard back to her shoulder to allow her to twine back around her neck in what is, apparently, the little creature's favorite spot. The dark haired woman nods, blushing lightly in embarassment, "Not all of them, but yeah. They're just so pretty. I wanted to share them with the rest of the Weyr." She bites her lower lip, "I've got a couple more in my room, though…" Her embarasment turns to a flush of pleasure and she ducks her head, "Thank you. I like being able to give back. I want Xanadu to be as pretty as possible." There's a note of pride in her voice at that. Xanadu is her home! A home should be welcoming and comfortable. If she can help make it that way by keeping the grounds looking good, then she's got a purpose and a way to contribute to the future of the Weyr. She giggles at the defense of Evi's candidate group's cooking, grinning again. The thought of someone making a comment on a dragon's size earns a small frown and she shakes her head, "I think Neith is the perfect size!" So there. Then the insistance that she and the greenrider should be friends has her coloring again and she shrugs, "I'm happy to help however I can. I can even come take care of them for you, if you wanted." Ever the helpful gardener! Besides, some people just have a black thumb and shouldn't be left in charge of the care of innocent plants, even if she thinks that everyone should have a house plant. They have so many benefits, after all!
There's a depth to the look R'hyn fixes on Kasle, an ache reflected in the set of mouth and the lowering of lids that says he knows full well that even being a bystander can have its repercussions. "Nevertheless, I'm glad you're both as well as you can be." Because he expect nothing more. The notch between brows deepens as the gardener continues to speak, a 'hmf' coming from him before, "I can't remember if there was ever a follow-up report from the hunters." He sees so much paper across his desk, every bit of it marked as important as the last… "I'll check on that, though." Not today, however - he keeps his promise to himself to leave the workaholism behind, hands going back into pockets, tattooed forearms pressed to sides, though it's less an uncomfortable gesture, and more so he can rock his weight back and forth from heel to toe during communion with his dragon. Whatever they're discussing while personal orchids (and personal topics) are discussed, Xermiltoth's thoughts grow subtly louder, not enough for either young woman (or dragon) to hear the words, but enough that it is clear the bronze's attention is here, present, the air suddenly dancing with golden motes and diamond-like dazzle before fading away slow. "The builders would disagree," with Evi's estimation of their candidate-ly excellence, "but feel free to tell yourself whatever you must in order to sleep at night." His nose wrinkles over a shit-eating grin as R'hyn re-emerges from said private dragon-discussion, impish mirth making the joke clear. Amusement lingers as his attention switches back to Kasle in time to catch her flush, head tilting ever so slightly to one side. "Hmm. I don't suppose you'd be interested in applying that attitude to candidacy, would you?" A harder, sideways quirk of lips. "I'm sure no one will appreciate me for taking you from your plants, least of all you, but I think - and Xermiltoth agrees - that you've the right kind of pride and passion to bring something unique to the experience." No pressure, though, the lack of expectation clear in every word, every line of his body - the choice is as much Kasle's as any other question or offer he's made thus far, the ball firmly in her court.
"I live up between the meadow and the forest, right inside the boundary." Pointing over in the general direction with a circle of her index finger non chalantly, "I let Nei hunt up the ridge; we'd not found a feline in six months." Lips fall in a deep frown; even as the flowers are her primary focus, she's rubbing the petals gently and still sniffing. She sniffs the same type twice, trying to suck any scent out by sheer force of will. "We have plenty of flowers behind our weyr, Nei is" Picky, demanding, an utter pain the ass. "She enjoys pretty things; I have a fish pond; it's all enclosed for the cats, nothing toxic allowed in. You can come by anytime." Firmly insisting on that point, kneeling down in a mild trance, even as Neifeth arches over top of the lot of them and runs her nostrils over the blooms in imitation of her rider. «Do you think we could get the red ones? Fluffy blood carpets are very /in/ this turn. And well, obviously I'm the perfect size.» Demanding and pushy, she is sass given form, and there's a sense of heady derision. Of knowing exactly who and what she is. The message is meant to be heard by all of them and comes on a wave of cerulean blossoms that curl into vines of vivid violet and slither through before snapping back with an audible POP. The show is over now, goodbye. Deciding on a whim to address them, Evi bites her lip and turns to Kasle, "Sorry, she's been /so/ good recently. I.. .well ok." Stopping in her apology to bat at the mental motes, shaking them out before hearing R'hyn offer the woman a white knot. There's a smugness about her waiting for a response, arms crossing over her chest in a comfortable self hug, a fond memory. "Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor." Chirped out, far more fae than she usually lets out, but she doesn't offer any advice. This decision is far too personal for her to weigh in. Instead, she turns to R'hyn, "You know perfectly well those builders /loved/ us. It's called job security, and they probably made /overtime/. That really does help me sleep."
The gardener nods, forgetting her dirty hands, and runs one thin braid through her fingers over and over, just to make the three bells woven into it chime in her ear, "I know that they weren't letting Logain go out again for a while. I think they were afraid he'd go looking for that feline, again." She offers a small grateful smile at the mention of the Weyrleader looking into the situation. The sudden voice of the green, accompanied by the attention of the bronze, has Kasle blinking, trying to clear her vision of the dancing, dazzling motes and alive feeling of the floral air. She giggles, nodding, "I can do any landscaping you'd like, Neith, but I think it might be a little late to plant poppies." She nods understanding for keeping toxic things out, "I'd be careful with orchids, then. Some can cause illness." Though there are many that are perfectly safe to consume, "Violets are edible, though, and come in a lot of different colors. Plus, their leaves feel like velvet." Then— She blinks at the question, "Me?" She blinks again, "I… uh…" It takes her brain a moment to catch up to the fact that she's just been asked to become a candidate, "I- Yes." She looks completely gobsmacked at the offer, "It would be an honor!" There's no way that she would turn down this oportunity! "I mean, I can always work extra hard after the Hatching to make up for any lost time, right?" She looks vaguely worried for a moment, "I'll have to get all of my plants transferred into the greenhouse, so that they'll be taken care of while I'm unable to." She looks over at Evi, a small, almost shy smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, "Would you like a couple of my violets? They're super easy to take care of. Just be careful not to get the actual plant wet when you're wattering it." She grins, giggling, "If they're happy, they'll even have babies."
R'hyn remembers - or at least notices - the dirt clinging to hands as Kasle raises them to her hair, parental gut-reflexes bidding him open his mouth to say something— only for it to be too late. He settles back on his heels, fingers of the hand that had reached out to stop her pushing against his lips in a classic 'not gonna say a word' squish. He tries to make it less obvious when she looks his way, hands dropping back into pockets with a dip of his chin and a shrug of shoulders in response to her look. He can't promise she'll get informed, what with the distractible nature of the job, but it will get checked on. That, at least, shows in the resolution of his features before the responsible look is obliterated by snorting laughter, "Fluffy blood carpets," parroted between bouts of amusement. Well that's certainly one way to put it. "Ow." Though laughter never raises above a chuckling wheeze, he still presses a hand to one side as he straightens himself, 'ahh'ing aloud before fixing a much gentler grin on Kasle. Again there's that lack of expectation, an appreciation for Evi's own lack of goading, but his grin goes wide when the gardener accepts. Pleased. He is pleased. "Good. And honestly, Xanadu's idea of candidacy is more relaxed than what you might expect. We allow you to remain home until the eggs harden, to drink responsibly, and to stay out as long as you aren't causing a ruckus somewhere." He smiles as though he doesn't expect that to come to pass, but who knows - maybe Party Girl Kasle is in there, somewhere. "So I am sure if you are needed to finish seasonal projects, it could be arranged." He does not confirm nor deny that she could work hard to catch up post-hatching because that's something only the winds of fate can decide, so, "Maybe plan on passing the major things to someone else." Stormcloud eyes switch from Kas to Evi and back for the offer of plants, but - perhaps wisely - he doesn't offer to assist, in plant-sitting or otherwise. He brings home enough living creatures on the regular to not add plants to the frey, too. "Alas, I don't have a knot on me, but if you have a moment, I will have Xermiltoth fetch a coordinator to meet us in the clearing, and we can get the salient details settled." Even if she isn't coming, it's clear he's intending to go, posture straightening, clothing shifted and retucked, looking more like he's heading into battle with the renewed serious set of his face than simply going out into public. To Neifeth and Evi, he offers a, "A pleasure seeing you again. I hope you don't have much longer to wait."
Kasle's enthusiasm spreads and Evi smiles with both cheeks out in a smug, cat that ate the avian, look that is matched by the slight side wiggling she's doing that's every bit a feline body wiggle as a person can achieve while kneeling. The note about the poppies gets a minor pull of the lip down, glancing up before hopping to her toes and extending upward to rest along velvet speckled hide. All the information has prompted her to pull a notebook from her pocket, the fluffy pink pad barely bigger than her hand and the tiny pencil that's covered in gold glitter and shoved between the pages is flourished. "Okay, so Orchids might be a no, poppies have to wait but we can do violets. We have a place away from cats, for Neith." Scrawling it out quickly enough, "I'll come back for the violets, now that I know you are sticking around." The ow is noticed and Evi tilts her head at the Weyrleader and raises an eyebrow. Bubble and perk hides a decent mind from those who choose not to look and she lifts her chin curiously, begging an explanation but dropping it the moment a blonde wavy-haired woman somewhere in her 40's wanders into the garden, holding a lightly blanketed bundle that can only be a young child. "It's um, good, I think Weyrleader." This is why she avoids talking to leadership, formality can be a struggle. At the same moment, R'hyn prepares for the paperwork wars that await him. In a matter of moments she's oblivious to anything else, the bundle handed over and held close to her chest, whispered words of thanks follow the grasp of hands as the two of them sit down. Most likely going over the baby's entire day with a very fine-tooth comb, the greenrider wanting every detail.
Finally, Kasle does remember the dirt clinging to her fingers and makes a face as she drops her hand, shaking her head to resettle the now dusty braid. She shoots a vaguely concerned look at R'hyn at the wheezing laughter and following 'ow', but just chuckles silently with a sympathetic sparkle in her eyes. The explanation of candidacy gets a nod as she listens, a smile growing on her lips until her eyes dance with excitement at the thought of being able to finish up with her current projects and the notion that she might not have to get rid of all of her plants. She shakes her head again, "I don't really do much other than take care of my plants." Though, she'll probably be dragged to the tavern by some of the guard to celebrate when they hear that she's been given a white knot! She nods, glancing down at the last two, lonely plants needing to be dropped into their new home, "Um… Give me just a moment." She drops to her knees to quickly and efficiently plant the seedlings, her movements almost tender, and is done faster than might seem possible to most, "They'll need a drink later, but they'll be safe enough for now." She grins at Evi's diligance in making notes, "And I'm happy to answer any other questions you have." Then the arrival of the woman and baby completely distracts the greenrider and she's smiling in a whole new, tender way, remembering the days when her brother was that little. She quickly turns her attention back to the Weyrleader, "I'm ready whenever you are, sir."
R'hyn's handwave is dismissive for those twin looks of concern. "It's nothing," he explains, "overworked the abdominals yesterday, paying for it today." He works hard for the musculature that is now habit to cloak behind dress-shirts and vests, but the 'ow' is nothing to worry about. A second such gesture intimates that Kasle (and Evi's note-taking) can take all the time they need to prepare; there is no rush, except perhaps that which Xermiltoth inflicts in his eagerness to meet 'his' candidate. That faint effervescence at the corners of eyes returns, fleeting, warm without being oppressive in the late afternoon heat, dazzles lingering until R'hyn shoos the beast's thoughts away. It's one thing for the bronze's mind to impose itself on R'hyn's children - it's another to do it to someone else's. The bronze's thoughts swiftly flee along with R'hyn's wave farewell as Evi busies herself with the persons she was clearly waiting for, a small smile lingering on features before Kasle speaks up. There comes an over-exaggerated sigh for that 'sir,' but he doesn't correct her - it's a proper addressal now that she's a candidate, and, robbed of being able to inflict his preferences on her, he instead says, "Very well. This way. I think you'll have fun." Or at least, he hopes that is the case as he leads her off towards the clearing.