To speak and remove all doubt

[Kaya]

| 78.01.10 | the fields | Midmorning |

Ornoth had really been the instigator. Any reasonable girl would know that. They lived in the Weyr. They knew plenty of Riders. And so it hadn't really phased Kh'sol when the attractive young lass who worked in the fields with the herdbeasts had been entirely unperceptive to his comments. Complements shot down, attempts at conversation scattered into the wind. Really, she was being entirely unfair.

So it was for the fourth time this sevenday that Kh'sol found himself pulled to the southern fields to fish for her attention yet again. Rather than be so suddenly relocated, he picked a fence post to lean on and watch for a spell. He exchanged evaluations with Ornoth regarding her looks. Eventually she noticed him standing there and stiffened. Her butt looked cute when she did that.

"Oh shells would you shove off and leave me be!" He kept watching. He didn't move. She considered storming off but then maybe thought better of it and come over to apologize to him.

"Go on, git!" she shooed at him with some implement meant for beasts, not men.

"But you haven't even heard or considered my complements for you today!" he protested.

"If I have to hear one more remark out of you about how I'm more this or that than so and so I don't think you'd like to find out what then," she waved the long rod at him. Kh'sol stood there and let her stride away, once turning to wave the thing at him again. Really not very becoming for her anyway. But he had done this place so many good turns, it was just that none of them knew it. He settled further into the fence post. He'd stand his ground here for some time still, then maybe consider wandering elsewhere.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K'tar was bored. That was hardly a new occurrence, but it was still worthy of comment, because when K'tar got bored things... happened. Rather like what happened when Viarth (his purple) got bored. As it happened, the two of them were bored together, so K'tar was roaming around looking for something, anything, which would stimulate his mind, while Viarth, still begrudging the curtailing of his explorations after their latest escapade, offered up various comments.

K'tar arrived at the stables, thinking to maybe 'borrow' a runnerbeast or something, just in time to see a young woman storm off, waving a rod at Kh'sol. Nor did it look like Kh'sol had been in any way truly bothering the young woman.

This could be entertaining, Viarth suggested, but any possible entertainment quickly fled as Kh'sol sagged against the fence post. Viarth's mental moping resumed, than snapped to a sudden end as an idea hit bot him and his rider at once.

Of course, it was the sort of idea one had to approach carefully.

"Hey, Kh'sol, what's up?" K'tar asked, quite as if he hadn't observed the last moments of the interesting interaction.

[Kaya]

"Oh, you know. Tell a girl she's pretty...be threatened with a good bonk to the ol' head. No appreciation for my looks or words whatsoever." Kh'sol replied. K'tar had likely seen her, heard her yelling no doubt. Her voice, once pleasant to hear, was somewhere between grinding stones and wailing birds when upset. He shifted around the fence post. He knew this one. They'd been on the run a few times before. Pity he wasn't involved in some of his other...adventures. Maybe he'd have a suggestion or two about getting Cyanee to warm up. But in that market absence, Ornoth wasn't particularly picky. "I could use a wingman, you know. Though not for her. I think that last screech has ruined it, y'know."

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

"Yeah, they do tend to have a bit of a super-sonic sound when upset. My mother used to try and shatter the eardrums of everyone in the vicinity," K'tar commented. Being wingman beat being bored, hands down, although Viarth was still holding out a bit. Still, with the right approach...

"So, you got someone in mind, or should we just look around?" K'tar asked. He wasn't sure which option he preferred, to be honest. Both of them at least involved having a task to accomplish. "Maybe we could even set something up to make clear to our screechy friend here that she actually missed out on something good you know. Maybe she just hasn't seen you in the right sort of situation."

[Kaya]

He didn't say anything about K'tar's mum. That would be rude.

"Ah, well, I've spoke with one of the dish washers a few times. You should see her, if you lean around the door just right you can catch her washing things. She'd not particularly careful about splashing if you get the idea. But if you're willing to travel maybe we should find someplace more interesting. You sound like you know these parts better than me anyhow, I'm learning, but there was this one girl I kept after a while. T'be honest I'm still sweet on her but she's a quiet, slippery one." Kh'sol sighed. It was a real burden some days trying to manage Ornoth and hope for something more permanent. But since he'd bonded the big Brown he'd been pushed back a few Turns worth of life perspective, he supposed it evened their ages out.

"But if you got some ideas in that head of yours, let's hear 'em."

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K'tar hadn't actually caught a glimpse of the referenced dishwasher, but he nodded anyway. It wouldn't do to appear less informed than his companion, after all.

"Have you tried Cliffside?" he inquired, mostly to eat up some time while his mind turned over a few plans (both his own and those of Viarth). "There's also... have you considered manufacturing yourself a chance? Girls can kind of like a guy who's a bit of a hero, you know, and maybe if we can give things a bit of a nudge..."

Viarth, listening in on the planning, was practically bouncing, offering up every idea he could think of, regardless of practicality.

"First things first though, we need a target audience. Myself, I'd go with either finding one you can help out, or one that knows you fairly well already."

[Kaya]

"No, I haven't really been around Cliffside. I suppose you have a point there." It showed on his face the bristly reaction to manufacturing heroship. He was one. Didn't need inventing. But real heroes and their deeds for justice had to be kept away from all but trusted ears. He was plenty impressive without any or all of these things. He had a sense, though it would unlikely be expressed, that wooed ears should simply intuit all of these great things about him.

"But it's a bit early for Cliffside's night, if that is our plan. But let's leave the the fields and go see about lunch soon and perhaps that dishwasher. Or an earlier start elsewhere," Kh'sol left the fence post and began walking towards the large path through the cut of jungle up towards the Weyr Bowl.

"You ever have your weyrling days or anything when your dragon felt so much in your head you couldn't get 'im out?" he asked idly, walking.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K'tar laughed. Not a condescending sort of laugh, nor yet a truly amused laugh. Indeed it was more a sound of rueful remembrance, a sound directed more at himself than at another.

"Did I ever! Shards, there's even days now when it seems that I cannot get him out of my head." K'tar sot a wide grin over at Kh'sol. "Not that I'd have ti any other way, in truth," he added, falling into stride with Kh'sol's motion. "I'd rather share my head with him than with anyone else."

"Lunch sounds like a plan to me..." K'tar's voice trailed off for a moment, his face looking like it was trying to blanch. "No! Viarth! Not-!"

A pie came sailing overhead, straight towards the two riders. Quickly, it was followed by another, than by two more.

What? It got your food there faster. If Viarth was bothered by the knowledge that his rider was now dancing in place, setting himself up to try to catch incoming pies, it didn't show in his tone.

[Kaya]

It did not register that there were pies in the air. It was not a natural happening, for pies to inhabit the space of birds and flying bugs. There was absolutely, without a doubt, no possible way that dangerous metal pans would ever throw themselves at Kh'sol's head.

Yet there they were. K'tar's pale face and frantic motions insisted it were so.

So one hit his arm, still parked at his side, and broke only to collide with the ground. He ducked the next one, getting falling pieces of meat pie in his hair but avoiding the unfortunate pan-to-the-face scenario. He managed the catch the next one, mostly in tact.

He stared at it, then looked over to see how K'tar had fared. "What..." he mumbled followed by several country bits of country slang before reemerging to repeat, "What?!" quite a deal louder.

[Ghost of Fire (Fëanáro)]

K'tar, armed by the advance warning provided to one who was bonded to the pie-catapulting dragon, was able to avoid actually being hit by any of the falling pies. Unfortunately, the advance warning was not enough to prevent him from ending up with pie in his hair. All over his hair. Of course, he also had it all over his shirt.

"That," he said, swiping pie off his face, "would be Viarth."

[Kaya]

"Well met..." Kh'sol mumbled, peeling gravy coated hair out of his mouth. "Well met."