"Not bad, for an older, pregnant woman."

In which Lis is teased by certain young whippersnappers.

It's lucky that the ground weyr's are still bathed in shadow, as Kh'ryn tries to make his escap.. er.. take his leave. Sweeps are calling, you know. However, upon rising from the cot he shared with the greenrider, he manages to catch his foot within the blankets, sending him crashing to all fours onto the ground. Faint curses escape, but the blushing bluerider can't help it. That sharding hurt!

Lis rouses from a gentle, satisfying slumber to the sounds of crashing and cursing. "D'renn? You alright?" Slowly the pieces come together, and she realizes this is /not/ her weyr - and she was /not/ just sleeping with D'renn. "Oh! Kh'ryn. Sorry." Wriggling to the edge of the cot, she peers at the sprawled bluerider with concern in the near-darkness. "Didja break anything?"

Kh'ryn almost misses that remark, but not quite. Hauling himself up to his feet, (rather quickly, no doubt) he then brushes off his.. ah.. bare knees? Och. Seems someone misplaced his clothing... Ahem. Trying valiantly to cover whatever skin is showing, (and losing the battle) he skitters over from one side of the room to the other, finally giving up and flopping back down on the cot, and grabbing the blanket. "I'm fine," he finally replies, "But what happened to my pants?"

"On top of that medicine chest," Lis replies, having taken unconcious inventory of what went where during the mad passionate rush. It becomes habit, after so many lovers. The greenrider finds her dress easily, but she's in no hurry to squeeze herself back into it. Underwear isn't searched for, leaving the suspicion that there never was any in the first place.

Quick glance assures Kh'ryn that yes, she's correct, which means that the mad dash towards the chest will be fruitful. And lo and behold, there's his cotton shorts too, and.. one lonely sock. Well, that'll have to do for now, he supposes. At least he's no longer buck nekid before Lis, of all people.. though, why that should matter, when .. well.. other things went on between 'em? Running his hand through his tussled hair, he spares a look for the greenrider as she dresses. "Um.. So.. Ah.." That's about as much as he can get out. See, being fairly new at all of this, he hasn't really got the hang of .. well.. saying goodmorning and goodbye, in quick succesion.

"Yes?" Lis is sadistically amused, quite gloriously 'buck nekid' and not giving a wherry wing, though men tend to look sillier without proper garments on. One eyebrow raises as she watches him, and commments, "You don't need to profess love, or even thank me for it. It happens, and it was enjoyable, and now it's over. And in my opinion, you weren't half bad." And with that, she levers herself up and begins wiggling into her dress.

Kh'ryn can't help but grin slightly at that. Well, there's something to be proud of, right? Ahem... Averting his eyes while she dresses, he then decides to find a way out of this without further embarassing himself... So, red faced and all, he stumbles around, looking for his other sock, his boots, jacket, and etc. Then, the thought hits him... This will surely be something spread across the weyr like wildfire, no? Which means... Ugh.. The bluerider looks quite ill as he thinks of a certain weyr resident he'd much rather hide this from... Though it is in the nature of riders to have this happen, it's still hard trying to explain to those who don't have a horny lifemate...

Lis helps Kh'ryn out, her garment relatively easy to put on once she tugs it down into place - and that's a bit of a struggle, since she's not as slim as she used to be. Picking up his shirt, she catches the queasy sort of expression on his face and asks, "Something wrong, dear?"

Kh'ryn eyes the woman, wondering if she's playing fair or foul. Finally, he gives in and decides to blurt it out. "How am I supposed to explain this to .. ah.. a certain.. /friend/ of mine?" he queries, taking the shirt, but not putting it on. Instead, he flops to the cot again, looking quite depressed. Which is odd, considering how 'happy' he should be. Lis wasn't all that bad herself. Ahem.

Lis does try, even if she's getting on in Turns; nevermind that middle-age for most dragonriders starts around fifty, outside of a Pass. Inside, well... The greenrider perches on the edge of the cot, looking down in a rather tender and maternal way on Kh'ryn, which is rather different from the way she was looking at him earlier. "Who, Khena? Or someone else? I mean... flights /are/ flights..."

It's hard to block the laugh that escapes at Lis mentioning Khena's name, and so, that's why he doesn't succeed, and it escapes as a snort. "No no no.." Kh'ryn states, shaking his head. "It's far worse than that.." At least his friend would understand, t'were it her. "It's P'rru's daughter. Skylark.." There, it's out. The first person to know just happens to be the last person he shared a cot with. How odd is that?

"/Oh/." Lis gasps as recognition dawns, and she follows with a rhetorical question. "But she's not a rider, is she. Did she take it bad when you told her you'd gotten Kwa pregnant - or have you told her?" The greenrider tucks a strand of hair behind her ears, still watching poor, troubled Kh'ryn. Nothing like a cot confessional.

Kh'ryn ponders this rationalization, and finally, nods his head. "Aye, I told her.. In fact, she was there when Kwa told me.." However, he hadn't known at that moment that Lark was crushin' on him. In fact, he hadn't even admitted to his own feelings for her; except, of course, that he was green with jealousy that she was heading off wiht some trader fella. "She understood.. She's the daughter of a rider, so I guess that's close enough." And with all the children P'rru spawned. . . well... "Thanks Lis," he suddenly states, perking up. "You made me feel a whole lot better.." Though she didn't really say anything, she did get him to admit certain facts aloud, which helped some.

Lis' grin is a confused one, but it's a grin nonetheless. "Well, I do try. If I'm going to cause trouble with Alymath's flights, the least I can do is help ease some of it. Too bad they don't have a craft for this sort of thing..." Can't you just see it now? Lis, MasterCourtesan of Pern.

The bluerider finally dons his shirt, and from underneath the cloth, a chuckle can be heard. "Aye.. I can just imagine," he replies. All dressed, Kh'ryn comes to his feet, and tucks his shirt into pants. "Well, I s'pose I should be going. By the rate gossip travels 'round here, I'm sure she'll have heard of it by now.." Then, he offers a pleading look. "You won't tell anyone, will you? About her and I, I mean.." She can tell whoever she wants about them, as .. well.. it's just what happens when there are flights.

Lis puts a hand over her heart in one of the oldest symbols of an honorable pledge. "I won't, I swear on Alymath's eggshards. Besides," she continues, a grin lighting up her face devilishly, "it's not the sort of gossip that would make anyone squirm but you and her - and since I've got nothing against her and I rather like you, it's not worth it." Ah, the inner workings of her twisted mind...

Kh'ryn accepts that, and smiles up at her. "Thanks Lis... And by the way," here he tosses in a wink. "You're not half bad yourself, for an older, pregnant woman.." And now that he's got himself set up for a good swat against the head, Khor decides that now would be a good time to skidaddle. So, striding towards the door, he drops a quick kiss upon the greenrider's brow, before heading on out to face the weyr... and Lark.

"Why, you...!" Lis yells threateningly after Kh'ryn, but she's too busy smiling foolishly at the kiss to her forehead. She's a sucker for those, wouldn't he know. "Behave yourself, you young sprout, before some older, meaner pregnant woman trips you." And she gathers herself up, ponders making the bed, and wanders out to face the weyr - and D'renn. But they're both used to it.