The Situation


Ciara.jpg Balkrith L'ron.jpg Merendezen.jpg Suosith Tuorth

Date: 30th August 2010
Location: Eastern Weyr: Weyrling Barracks
Synopsis: Some weyrlings are in the barracks before bedtime. After M'zen's nodded off, Ciara and L'ron discuss their situation. Suosith talks to Balkrith and Tuorth, and receives a gift.
Rating: PG-13
Logger: Ciara

Set back into the northeast corner of the Upper Bowl, this cavern is huge. With a doorway wide enough to admit a very large brown or a small gold, it balloons out into an almost round room. Along the walls are couches carved out of the rock, some bigger and some smaller. Next to those couches are small, utilitarian cots. In the center are rows and rows and rows of similar cots, only a wide aisle seperating them from the couch-cots. Space is at a premium here, for both Candidates and Weyrlings must share space until another barracks can be dug.

With bedtime fast approaching, especially for young dragons, the barracks are mostly quiet as people are off feeding their darlings, or washing off the mess produced by said activity. A few pairs are in the barracks though, among them Ciara and Suosith. The gold has eschewed a bigger meal, much to Ci's protests, had her bath, and is now ready to settle down. The gold is dancing ahead of her rider as they walk down the barracks to their couch, where Suosith begins nudging about to make it ready for her. Grinning like a fool at the sight, Ci starts to change out of her wet clothes into dry ones, a towel helping to give her some privacy while she does so.

L'ron currently wearing sleeping shorts and looking to be ready for bed himself, is currently looking somewhat perplexed as he tries shoving at the grayish-blue firmly ensconced on…the weyrling's cot that is…covered with fresh straw. "C'mon Balkrith, get off!" he grumbles lightly in a tired voice as he places both hands to the blue's rump and pushes again. All that does it to have the dragonet rolling over onto his back and staring at his lifemate through a slow blink. "No, you don't have to check if it's comfortable enough. It is. Now get off."

M'zen's job with his lifemate seems to be a constant, not leaving the side of his lifemate unless he sleeps because the bronze seems to have a knack at pissing people off without even trying. The large bronze not quite aware of how large he is, yet, despite warnings. Even the return to the barracks is filled with collisions with both people and cots and Zen giving apologies to each person involved with Tuorth not even turning his regal head to regard them, until Zen lectures the bronze. It, hopefully, will sink in soon. So the arrival to his couch is met with a sound of relief from the man as the bronze settles himself down like a great king and beckoning his advisor to follow. "Unlike you, Tuorth… I need to change." Green eyes roll and the task begins, shedding the dirty clothing for something to sleep in.

The sound of an 'argument' has both Ciara and Suosith looking over at the source. While Suosith continues to watch Balkrith lying on L'ron's cot, Ci turns back to her dressing, head bowed a little so that her expression can't quite be seen. When she's got into her sleeping clothes and Suosith's curled up neatly on her couch, Ci squares her shoulders and, with a deep, calming breath, heads towards L'ron's cot. She stops just off to one side, behind the weyrling, and says not too loudly, "looks like he's comfortable there." Suosith turns her head to look at Tuorth when he comes in, but when he pays the others no attention she looks away again with a little 'hpmh' of distaste.

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith's voice is sweetness and light, the hum of many voices beneath it as she speaks. « Hello Tuorth! Have you had a lovely dinner? We're getting ready for bed, though Balkrith seems to have changed his sleeping arrangements. It looks rather messy to me. »

With an exasperated sigh and a rake of fingers through his hair for the obstinate little fellow, L'ron finally moves to a small 'sack slung over the end of his cot and withdrawing something tosses it into Balkrith's couch. The turnip bounces once or twice and then rolls to the lip of the wallow. Like greased lightning (or should we say, oiled lightning) the blue flows off of the cot and pounces on the tuber root with little crooning sounds of glee, not even noticing the straw being dumped over him as the blue weyrling gets to clearing his cot of the stuff. "Dork," he mutters fondly for his lifemate and then turns a wry smile onto Ciara when she arrives near him, "He says it will do for me but he…" a glance toward the now untidily sprawled blue, "can't hide turnips in it." Cue the roll of brown eyes which then settle briefly onto the swaggering bronze as he arranges himself, an oddly sympathetic look going M'zen's way. His gaze drifts next to Suosith, a warm smile being sent the gold weyrling's way, "She's beautiful, Ci. Told you gold, didn't I?" Forgive him if he looks a little smug about his earlier prediction.

M'zen tilts his attention towards L'ron and his lifemate, watching the interaction with a brow lifting before he settles in his cot beside the bronze. Tuorth on the other hand, finally turns to regard the others with whirling eyes, calm and utterly relaxed and sated with a full stomach. Unfortunately, not as full as he wished. He lids his eyes partially, watching them still which draws Zen's attention back to the pair. "Didn't bet on any golds, just people. Not at the betting ring in Jaya's bar, unfortunately." Which would have made him plenty more marks. Green eyes close as he leans back, relaxing. "Glad for it all, though." Despite his obvious clashing and annoyance towards his lifemate.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth's voice is content, a hall filled with distant laughter, the sound of dogs and a crackling warm wood fire. The smoke scent fills the surroundings and he speaks, voice full of content laughter. « Suosith. Dinner was pleasant enough. I am not fond of these meals… I wish to hunt for my own, but, I am not yet grown for such a thing. » So says the advisor. « I can see that. We have noted that it was… Quite the oddity. Messy indeed, not fit for anyone to sleep in properly… But, Balkrith seems to be quite… Addled. »

Ciara watches as the turnip trick is unveiled, laughing softly at Balkrith's reaction. She sobers when L'ron replies to her, nodding in slightly puzzled acknowledgement. Clearly she hasn't experienced the full force of Balkrith's turnip obsession yet. Her cheeks go ever so slightly pink at the compliment, but the look she shoots Suosith is loving. The gold curves her neck, bathing in the glow of being admired. "I thought we'd decided on green and blue," she protests, though it's softened by the look in her eyes as her gaze lingers on her new lifemate. "Not that I'd change Suosith for any other dragon in the world." She looks at Balkrith now, smiling fondly. "He's lovely. A real personality." Something's playing on her mind though, keeping her voice softer than it usually would be. She looks over at M'zen when he speaks, as if only just realising he's there. Now she looks somewhat more awkward than before.

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith adds the sound of music, a triumphant opening tune as Tuorth speaks to her. She does like it when other dragons speak to her. The thrum of delight at her being paid attention to is evident too in the bounce in her voice. « Oh, dinner. Would you believe that Ciara tried to make me eat all of it? There was just sooo much, it would make me fat. » And that would be awful. « Addled? » She sounds a little defensive of Balkrith now. « Balkrith is adorable! He's just so…klutzy! »

L'ron's head tips to one side, studying Ciara in that moment when it looks like she might say more and then he smiles as he brushes the last of the straw from his cot, "Said gold first didn't I? Then green…" words trail as Balkrith suddenly pushes up to his skinny little legs and noses the turnip out of his wallow and then starts off down the aisle in Suosith's direction. Oh dear. As to M'zen's words on betting a short chuckle appears and the blue weyrling shakes his head, "Didn't lay any bets. I meant to but…" well he must have gotten sidetracked along the way, "You make some good marks off the betting?"

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith's voice comes with the quiet scrubbing of floors in the background as he approaches with his turnip, « Good evening, m'lady. The night serves you well? » such formality from one usually so dense and unaware of social niceties.

M'zen peeks at the two again, green eyes watching curiously and then closing his eyes to give them some privacy. Somewhat, at least. "Made enough." He drifts into a thoughtful silence.

Ciara bites her lower lip under L'ron's scrutiny, finally conceding. "Oh, all right. Oh - where's he…." That said when Balkrith is suddenly out of his wallow and away. Her eyes follow him until she realises where he's headed, and she smiles. She looks between L'ron and M'zen as they talk of bets, with the occasional glance to Suosith and Balkrith for their interaction. The gold is sniffing delicately, and Ci's brow wrinkles. But, she looks at M'zen in time to see him close his eyes. Is he still talking to them? She looks at L'ron, face open and ready for him to say something. She looks lost for words, herself.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth's laughter grows in his voice, « You should eat it all. Apparently it will help us grow. You won't get fat unless you ate all day long without sleeping. » He, at least, is trying to be nice for once. « If you say so, I am left to believe you. » Again, nice. Because Zen is nagging.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith's voice tinkles with delight at Balkrith's greeting. « Oh it does, Balkrith! I've had my dinner and now we're all going to get a good night's sleep ready for tomorrow! » She gives that little sniff then, and asks, « What is that…vegetabley smell? » She's outright with that, not intending to be rude but possibly coming across that way. Has she not noticed the turnip?

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith doesn't sound convinced, but Tuorth is her brother and she'll listen to him. « But if I eat too much I'll get all lumpy in the belly, and then I'll get fat, and ohhh. » A sigh of sadness at the very idea of it. She's quite happy to accept the Balkrith comment at face value. Everyone's getting along! Sort of. The lights dancing in her voice signify her pleasant thoughts about a happy weyrling group.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth projects « Perhaps if you ask, someone can assure you that you will not get fat. I am certain, but it never hurts to ask. » More playing nice. « It will be fine, Suosith. You are fine and food is good. We are young and we must grow. With food. » »

Bemusement paints across L'ron's face until he catches something said by his blue and cringes slightly as he takes a step as if to stay the little fellow's path. "Balkrith! Get back here!" the words hissed out in a whisper for deference of those sleeping. But when Balkrith simply ignores him and keeps trundling the turnip closer and closer toward Suosith he gives up and puts a look of slight embarrassment over to Ciara, "Sorry. He's umm…I think he wants to give it to her." M'zen's quiet answer draws brown eyes over the bronze weyrling's way and he looks set to say something on the topic of betting but then he appears to be asleep and so the blue weyrling tucks it away for another time. He turns back in time to catch that look coming from the gold weyrling and he reaches a hand out to her, meaning to catch hers if it's within reach as a slightly rueful smile appears, "He's not bronze." Stating the obvious but perhaps in doing so putting forth an unspoken query of his own.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith halts just in front of Suosith, the turnip rolling closer to her and he dips his sharp little head in respect, « What happens tomorrow? » He's probably been told a hundred times already but it appears he's forgotten. The cheerful sound of pots banging about in a busy kitchen sounds through his next words, « It's a turnip, m'lady. A very nice one indeed. » From somewhere underneath the pots comes that of a dog panting in the background, « You should have it. » he states grandly.

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith accepts that, for he is her brother. And he knows what he's talking about. Plus he's complimented her - sort of - by saying she's fine. « I suppose you may be right. I'll have to talk to Ciara. » Sigh! She clearly doesn't share Tuorth's love of food though. « I wonder how much Hadath eats, » is the gold's next, musing sentence, a more gentle chorus beneath her words now.

Ciara giggles at Balkrith's determination. "It's okay," she tells L'ron, before she's also looking at M'zen. Lifting both shoulders at the apparently napping bronze weyrling, she turns back to L'ron, letting him catch her hand. And he's voiced the thoughts that, apparently, on her mind. "Yeah…." And since he seems to be expecting her to say something, she continues, her light brown eyes on his face. "It feels like…well, it was silly obviously, our 'plans' before the hatching, but it's like…it didn't go quite the way we'd planned." She mimics his smile, a hint of sadness in her eyes now.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth rumbles, clearly pleased with her acceptance. « She will say the same, I assume. All will be well, I have said so. » Laughter continues and he considers. « As much as I do. » Or so he believes.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith is delighted at the prospect of tomorrow, even if the scent of whatever-it-is is still lingering in her nostrils. « We get to be washed, and learn! And eat, » she adds, though this doesn't sound as anticipated as the first two. The twinkle of lights underscores her next words. « Oh, a turnip? » She sounds at a loss as to how to respond to this, the music behind her voice quietening. It swells slowly as she brings herself to reply, sounding like a full orchestra at a Gather. « A gift! Thank you ever so much, Balkrith. » Her gratitude comes with the clear piping of flutes.

Once it appears M'zen and most of the others are asleep and Balkrith's attention is pretty firmly settled on the young gold, L'ron moves to sit on the edge of his cot perhaps hoping to draw Ciara along with him now that he's captured her hand. Whether she joins him or not, a soft smile flickers out her way and then he drops his head and goes quiet, likely contemplating the situation of totally mismatched lifemates. After a while his head lifts again and eyes of a similar color seek hers out as he shrugs a little awkwardly, "Does it have to matter that he's blue?" as if this were all Balkrith's fault somehow, though his tone lacks any true disgruntlement to the little fellow's color and station in life.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith takes this in and then responds through the hearty puff of dust of a rug being beaten, « Yes! We eat! » the bathing and learning not really being too high on his list of priorities it seems. For a moment he is carried away by Suosith's orchestral tone, little head swaying from side to side before he remembers himself and quickly ducks it in deference, the happy panting of a dog coming louder through the mental link, « You are most welcome, m'lady. »

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith considers that, her background music swelling to greater volume when she does reply. « Goodness, she doesn't show it. » Her mind is becoming distracted now. « Oh Tuorth, I must keep a watch on Ciara. She's got so many thoughts in her head, it's hard to keep up. Does yours do that? »

Ciara is drawn along, and lets her knees bend to have her sit on the bed, also. She angles her body so that she's facing L'ron more, and her mostly bare legs may brush his if he lets that happen. While his head's dropped, she watches him, worry plain on her face now. Has she said something stupid? And then he's talking, and she's trying to find an answer. "I…I don't know how Weyrs work with that…that sort of thing. All I ever knew was that golds are caught by bronzes." She looks contemplative as she draws on her limited knowledge of Weyr life. "But then…Alara and T'ryn are a…couple, and J'cobi's actually the Weyrleader?" She's trying to get at the issue here without saying anything about them, apparently.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith, ever the lovely thing, says, « Oh Balkrith, don't worry about bowing to me. We're siblings and friends, aren't we? » The trill of a piccolo, high and sweet. She's observing Ciara and L'ron even as she speaks to her blue brother, though, her mind spread between the conversations.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth projects « No, she certainly doesn't. But, I am sure you won't, either. We are still growing, after all. I will be much larger, soon. » He considers, silence flickering briefly before the sounds of his usual mind enters. « He thinks a lot, yes. It is normal, I assume. »

Where he might have thought the brush of her leg against his accidental, L'ron shifts slightly and as unobtrusively as possible so as to keep his right where they are to maintain that simple contact. Thank Faranth for the currently low lighting of the barracks or the slight blush of color that touches along his cheeks might have been noticeable. Catching his lower lip between his teeth the blue weyrling frowns lightly and then puts out a soft chuckle, "He's never going to catch her," which heightens the color on his cheeks a little. And then he drops into silence mulling over what Ciara has just said his thumb brushing lightly over the back of her hand. On a deep inhale of breath he puts a crooked smile out to the gold weyrling, "Not a brownrider either," perhaps thinking that at the very least to be a pre-requisite to anything. Exhaling softly from somewhere within a little seen iron will falls into place and he states quite boldly, "You know what? I don't care. Don't care if she's not green and he's not bronze, or brown or whatever," a warm smile with a hint of shyness to it appears, "I like you and that's all there is to it." Probably more words than he's strung together in a long time and it leaves him slipping quiet yet again, a careful look going her way to gauge her reaction to that.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith's sharp little head remains deferentially lowered, but he does for a moment lift it, the scent of fresh mud drifting upward as queries somewhat hesitantly, « You would be my friend? » Siblings is a given, friends a choice. Only then does his own attention swing over to their riders and he lets out a sharp mental bark meant to be encouragement for his rider.

Dragon> To Tuorth, Suosith twinkles at that reassurance. « Do you think you'll be as big as Erikath? » She fills the silence where Tuorth doesn't speak with a humming, which quietens when his mind returns. « Oh, good! I thought something was wrong. » Her mind is still very much focused on Ci though, voice sounding more distant now.

Dragon> To Suosith, Tuorth's voice grows louder, « I will be bigger than Erikath. » For he is so sure, therefore, it will be. « No. She is fine, let her think… » And then, he trails off, growing into silence and into the distance. To sleep, with his lifemate.

Ciara doesn't move her leg away when L'ron reaffirms the contact. His first sentence causes her cheeks to flush pink, at exactly what it means and its implications - she knows that much about Weyr life, thanks to candidacy. She starts trembling a little when he brushes the back of her hand, swallowing and looking to speak - until L'ron comes right out with those bold words. That quickly has her shutting her mouth in surprise. For a moment she's frozen, but that smile of his has her blushing brighter, and a shy grin sneaks onto her own face. "Leron…L'ron. I do…I like you too. D'you think we can make things work?" her voice has dropped to just above a whisper, for fear of eavesdropping companions.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith lets the strong smell of almost sickly sweet perfume mingle with the muddy smells of Balkrith's mind. « Of course! Our riders are friends, and so are we. » Although the way she says 'friends' hints that she's not quite sure that's the right meaning. Her mind focuses in rapidly when it gets to that particular point, curiosity strong in the feelings emanating from her.

As Ciara freezes like, L'ron swallows fearing he's just made a complete ass of himself in putting that confession out there and so it takes a moment before that shy grin of hers and her words reach home. When they do a wide goofy grin settles into place, his eyes dancing with delight and then leaning a little closer to keep his own words just between them, the blue weyrling asks in a slightly more serious tone, "Only if you're sure you want to give it a go, Ci." His attention drifts away from her face for a moment and out over the barracks and their slumbering compatriots before returning again and stating quietly, "Most of them aren't going to get it." Not that he cares, but she might.
Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith carefully takes in those sickly sweet scents and where some might be overwhelmed or put off by them, he simply helps to mix them into own his muddy ones and then begins drawing idle patterns into the concoction. As such he's a little distracted when the mental words come, « Huh? Oh, are they? » his little head swinging back in that direction to contemplate this thing going on with their riders. « Perhaps he thinks she's a turnip, » because turnips are good and should be well looked after, « I'll ask him. » His mind fades away and then returns a little while later after poor L'ron has almost had a choking fit of laughter, « He says she's better than a turnip. » which at once both confuses and delights the little blue at the same time.

Ciara leans in when L'ron does, and her hand squeezes his fingers gently. "I do." And she really means it, voice strong despite being lowered. She looks around when he mentions about the others. "You think they're not going to approve?" She seeks clarification, faintly worried about the possibility. But there's determination in her voice as she says, immediately after the question, "that's their problem. They can go crying to Alara or Randi if they have a problem with it." She's frowning, and nods firmly.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith seems amused by that comparison of sorts. « Better than a turnip? I think she'd be pleased to know that. » Her mental laughter rings like tiny bells.

Had it been any other time or place except here, in the barracks and the both of them newly impressed weyrlings, L'ron might well have taken a further bold step and had a go at kissing the girl. As it is, his mouth simply curves around a warm smile and he nods his satisfaction with Ciara's reply. Suddenly the blue-bonded weyrling breaks into a fit of chuckling at something asked of by Balkrith. Coughing and flushing a little he follows the gold weyrling's gaze back to where the others sleep, shoulders shifting into a light shrug at the question, "Dunno. Some of them might?" With his limited knowledge of Weyr life, he has no idea how such a strange pairing might be seen. A chuckle heralds his grin slipping back into place, at her firm words, "Then it's settled." And with that he will at least lean forward to attempt to hug the girl. Hugs are okay, right? Who knows. He certainly doesn't.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith gives his version of mental laughter, an exuberant splash of sudsy dish water sent all over the place, « She'd make a good turnip. » Although how he's come to that conclusion given that the tuber root and Suosith's lifemate look nothing alike, is anyone's guess.

Ciara blinks at the sudden laughing fit, and a look is sent towards Suosith, Balkrith, and the turnip. Her eyes go distant for a moment as Suosith bespeaks her, and the girl smiles fondly, looking back at L'ron. "Eh." She still isn't letting herself be bothered by the prospect of outcry. "It's not like we're going to do anything anyway, while they're young, right?" She leans into the hug, laying the side of her head against L'ron's chest and shutting her eyes briefly. "Seems like we have more rules as weyrlings than candidates," she mumbles.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith's attention goes between Ciara, Balkrith, Ciara, Balkrith. « A turnip? » Her voice goes even higher at the word. But…her rider's happy, and so's she. She doesn't take any offence. « Thank you, Balkrith? »

Amusement lingers as Ciara gets the gist of the laughing fit from Suosith, but he makes no comment simply smiling somewhat sheepishly. Just as well the gold weyrling has her head leaned against his chest and thus can't see the near crimson blush that creeps up into place in response to her words. L'ron simply rests his chin atop her head, shaking his slightly as he clears his throat and responds to the safer topic of rules, "Seems there's nothing but rules here," the Weyr, "Eat now, sleep now, wake up now, bathe now." And then his shoulders move in laughter, "But they can't tell us like him, don't like her. Don't be happy now. Laugh now. So they can't totally own us." Slipping easily into his more naturally optimistic way of viewing things.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith's reply comes with a simple bang of a pot lid twice as firm confirmation of - a turnip, yes. Which reminds him of the one lying 'almost' forgotten on the floor before him. With a sharp shove of his muzzle he sends it rolling toward his gold clutch sibling. Chances are that if this were early morning he might likely have turned it into some kind of game. L'ron's happy, so he's happy and that's all that matters to the little blue, his eyes starting to droop, and he executes another little dip of head as he starts to retreat backwards so as not to rudely turns his back on the lady, « Goodnight, m'lady. It is time I sleep in readiness of tomorrow. » remembering that to be important to her but forgetting quite why it is again.

Ciara slips gratefully down that particular line of conversation. "I like the way you think," she murmurs, head nodding against his chest. "Faranth. Am I going to be the one enforcing the rules when Suosith's grown up?" Now there's a scary thought. She's opened her eyes again, and is staring at the wall opposite, trying to think away the blush that's still making her face reddish.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith lets the turnip roll and stop against the edge of her couch, before reaching out a forelimb to daintily pull it up into the wallow. « Good night, Balkrith. Thank you very much for the turnip. » She seems to be pondering it with great interest, though there's a sparkle of delight in her mind aimed at Ciara and L'ron.

L'ron's smile warms unseen for the compliment happy with the simple gesture of having his arms loosely slung about the gold weyrling and her head against him. A chuckle filling his chest as he comments, "You could add 'Play Now', to the rules?" completely missing the deep blush that still lingers about Ciara's face. And then with a little more sobriety, "I reckon you'll be a good weyrwoman," he seems quite decided on that.

Dragon> To Suosith, Balkrith turns only once he's a goodly portion from Suosith and only almost trips over the leg of a cot once, before he turns and slinks back to his couch to settle his chin on the edge of the wallow and stare up at L'ron and Ciara with frank interest. « My pleasure, m'lady, » he sends the gold the sounds of pots, pans, scrubbing and all chores fading from his mind with just the soft panting of a dog left in the background.

Ciara grins broadly. "I'll try and get that one written in somewhere." The promise is teasing, but she becomes more sombre when L'ron comments about the weyrwoman thing. She is quiet for a long moment before her response eventually comes. "Thank you. I think I'm going to have to learn a lot from Alara, and Randi but…Suosith's chosen me. I don't want to be a bad weyrwoman." She's tying herself up in words. "Um. I suppose we should get them to bed." Suosith is resting her head in the edge of her wallow, watching the pair with light blue eyes. The turnip rests in the crook of her left forelimb.

Dragon> To Balkrith, Suosith lets her presence slip away from Balkrith's as he leaves, the final chord of a song fading into silence as she withdraws, in preparation for Ciara's eventual return.

"Can you imagine some of those old stick-in-the-muds being forced to play?" quiet laughter filters out as L'ron gives that some though and then after a light squeeze he's unwrapping his arms from Ciara and leaning back to catch her eyes as she comments on them needing sleep. His reply however goes first to that of learning from the Weyrwoman, "You're smart girl, I bet you get it real quick too." Balkrith sets to what can only be described as a draconic snore as his bonded nods firmly, "Time for sleep," and then still with some shyness attached, "Have breakfast with me tomorrow?" which would probably entail the two of them wolfing down whatever's put in front of them before rushing off to tend to lifemate's but it's the thought that counts, right?

Ciara laughs at the idea, before she's rising out of the hug. She blushes at the smart comment, but it's to his last that she responds. "Of course." She smiles back, seems to fight with herself, then stands. "I'd love to." The smile remains as she heads over to Suosith, who's patiently waiting for her rider's return before she lets her eyes close. Ci will climb into her cot, still smiling like a moron as she turns over to sleep.

IC Date: 4th day of the 10th month, 1st Turn of the first long Pass.

Closing Credits: Cat Stevens - Don't Be Shy

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