Fancy a swim? (Jay)

[Cait]

3075.08.06 || Dusk

Things had been getting progressively tense about the weyr. It had all started with that girl! The one who had spouted those vile hateful things. Oh, Rekkora knew that people whispered behind her back but at least then she could delude herself into thinking it was just as likely they were saying good things as bad. She knew that people thought horrid things of her Sunvoiath and that they were constantly being compared to Renika and Valorith. But to be called freak and unnatural and wrong in front of so many people, to have someone so thoroughly hate her and her dragon for something that neither of them had any control over was very nearly earth-shattering to the young woman. After the run-in at the firelizard hatching, Rekkora had gone back to her weyr and cried and Sunvoiath had seethed with impotent rage and refused to leave her rider.

That the vile, venomous girl had only been stripped of the rank and privelages of canidate hadn't been enough for the Abyss but there was little that she could do. The riders of Archith and Ancalanath would decide that. Had Garna been a dragon, Sunvoiath surely would have obliterated her and as it was, had she been able to reach the girl things might have happened a little differently. Though she saw the useful traits of others, time and again they seemed to prove quite ignorant and judgmental. Rekkora should not be condemned for having been the one she chose; she should be showered with adoration and love and respect!

A few months later, a most traumatizing thing occurred. One of weyrlings from their class was stolen away from the weyr and her dragon. Valhauth was beside herself with worry and under orders of Ancalanath and Archith, the queens and other young dragons were gathered on the sands and the kings gathered around them while the weyrlings were gathered in the dining hall and surrounded by guards and a few young whers. Sunvoiath had taken Rekkora to the sands, refusing to part with her especially given the girl's heightened sense that perhaps people didn't love her as much as she was convinced they should.

After that--and the attack on the wherhandler Dalonia--Rekkora went from unsettled to downright distressed and more than a little paranoid. The reasons for Chantrea being kidnapped had not been announced and so she'd become convinced that perhaps Chantrea wasn't the intended target or maybe she was even practice. Other thoughts steered her towards the terrifying thought that if someone could sneak into the weyr and kidnap Chantrea who by all accounts wasn't very important except perhaps to K'tar, what was to keep them from coming after her? She was far more important and people didn't seem to like having her around; or rather Sunvoiath. Now, a couple days after the second upset at the weyr in less than a month, Rekkora had just received word that her brother, of all people, had Impressed at a hatching at Icy Stone Weyr from a clutch that had been all but decimated by raging holders.

In short; she couldn't sleep.

She hadn't really slept well since that night she was woken suddenly and hauled to the Sands so mostly she lurked in her weyr, planning outfits or fussing over this or that. Other times she wandered. Tonight found her with her Abyss out by the lake in the twilight hours when the sky still retained a bit of blue but was primarily dark. For once she wasn't adorned in a pretty gown and her hair was a bit of a mess. In fact she looked a bit pathetic in a rumpled pair of slacks and a tunic that was far too large, her hair a bit mussed. Clearly she'd tried to sleep without success. She was seated on a flat stone near the shore and Sunvoiath was coiled about it protectively.

[Jay Kitten]

The moons were only just starting to peek over the horizon, and sure enough, it brought out the Weyr's nighttime denizens. There were Moonlights and Midnights, there were late-dwelling Jungles and Woods, and even a particularly menacing Darkblue watch dragon. The colors of Rainbow Mists were as prevalent as ever in the skies, but none more so than the glory of the Kings and Queens who preferred later hours. In particular, a big, nasty old bronze, and a small, lighter-tinted Tiger.

It was this particular Tiger whom had chosen to do what he always did once a sevenday near this time, he went to the lake. V'ridian went with him, of course, as he always did, though Cirryyth hadn't gone right for the water this time around. Instead, he chose to perch atop the waterfall as it gracefully tumbled into the main lake, watching the water roll about the rocks and falter at the bottom, bursting outward in a foaming, glorious spray. And of course, V'ridian chose to instead sit along a boulder near the edge of the waterfall, One that was particularly flat on top from a time long ago when the waterfall was much wider. He reclined gracefully, stretching out in a cat-like manner, before suddenly, without warning, a Moonlight firelizard popped into existence right before his face. He flailed and gasped, trying to get the thing away from his face, and Airya, disturbed by the man's moving arms, chittered discontent at him before zipping down along the waterfall and splashing straight into the bottom. She shot out at an angle a second later, zooming in a black-and-semi-gold blur right passed Rekkora's head.

It was only then that V'ridian even noticed the girl down below. She must have approached recently, she certainly wasn't there before he had been... Cirryyth was behind him, rolling in the river that led to the waterfall and playing with a particularly similar-colored butterfly as it alighted upon his nose. He snorted at it, and patted at it with his claws, though to no avail. So, seeing this, V'ridian rolled his eyes and decided he might descend to speak with the woman. He slowly moved along the path that led down from the bluff, until he was level with the lake, and, skirting it, he pulled up alongside the weyrling pair, with a concerned look on his face.

"You know the weyrlings are in lock down... Aren't they?" His Harper senses told him so, he had picked up on quite a few things about the Weyr lately, due to the fact it was his job, after all. "What's your name?"

[Cait]

Rekkora started as a dark blur shot past her face and Sunvoiath rumbled with annoyance, lifting her head to snap at the long gone Moonlight before nudging her rider gently. Leaning against the large, dark head fingering the thin streak of gold that crossed over the top of her muzzle and stopped abruptly at what would be considered her upper lip just behind her nostril. It was a quiet, peaceful moment and so thoroughly surrounded by Sunvoiath she felt safe. Her dragon would never stand idly by like so many had if she were in danger. She was about to shift to stand to better reach the Abyss' eyeridges when Sunvoiath tensed and pulled her head away, swinging around to stare at the man approaching.

Rekkora, with visions of kindappings and attacks and hideously tall and vile girls in her head, moved a hand to where her belt would have been and found her knives missing. It wasn't long before the man came into view and Rekkora settled somewhat. It was the Weyrharper; he was unmistakeable and though she'd never actually met the man she'd made it her perrogative to at least know the kingriders by site. Though he had a point, that weyrlings weren't supposed to stray from their weyrs at night and were to be accounted for during the day she really hadn't been able to stay put. With a frown, the young blonde shrugged then blinked, momentarily startled when the man asked for her name.

Is he joking?

He does not appear to be.[/color]

Well...

Sunvoiath lowered her head until her nose was a few feet in front of the weyrharper and huffed, blowing him with a puff of warm air that ruffled his hair and somewhere in the shadows her gold-streaked tail twitched. "Are you serious?"