Down you go! Just mind the sharp dragon-elbow, there.

Lis sneaks down from her dragon's side, after taking a deep breath and trying to look nonchalant about being on Ista's Star Stones. Really, it's quite a natural thing to do, or so her pose would imply, the straps around Alymath's neck loosened with overt casual motions, a tuneless whistle drifting from her lips. She wasn't spying. Really.

C'ran rests silently against the small blue's side, a large fur comfortor spread beneath him to soften the ground.  This is probably the sort of time one should greet new riders, but things are rather too comfortable to move at the moment, so he contents himself with a sip from his cup and a smile.  At last he finally offers a "Hello stranger." Spy or not, he doens't seem to mind the intrusion.

Lis leaves Alymath to her own devices - namely, burbling softly at the blue nearby and doing her best coquettish act. As usual. Her rider squeaks over in C'ran's direction, buckles upon her leathers jingling like multiple spurs with each small stride. "Oh, 'lo there. I didn't exactly expect to see anyone else up here - the Star Stones usually aren't so popular up north." Hands clasp in front of her as she peers down at the bluerider, fingers knitting with each other.

C'ran quirks an eyebrow and looks up at you with a lazy yet endearing grin "Nor here I expect, however when one wants to sit down with a skin of wine and enjoy a rich sunset, there's no better place in the world."  his eyes twinkle merrily "Far more so then up north I'd imagine, the cold might get in the way."

"Think you might be willing to share a bit of wine? I'm sure the sunset's bound to share itself, but..." Lis trails off in suggestion, clasped hands separating to go behind her back as she inches up on tip-toe hopefully. "Cold tends to get in the way, yes. Especially in the middle of winter." The shiver of the greenrider's is completely unfaked.

C'ran hmmms quietly, examing his newly arrived companion "I don't know... its rather good wine.  I think I'd have to have an awfuly good reason to share it."  he'll most likely share it anyways, but its always nice to see what one can cajole after a fair member of the opposite sex "what might you have to offer?"  with a quick scoot of his cute little rear end, room is made on the fur for another. "You can sit if you like while you think?"

Alymath has a few opinions on what Lis might offer, though luckily she's not gifted with speech and her rider can merrily censor these 'suggestions' at her whim, giving C'ran a quiet smile as she settles herself onto the fur next to the aforementioned cute behind. "Well, I suppose I could offer companionship, and conversation. And a warm body I suppose." There's no leers to accompany this - could one of 'Reaches most infamous greenriders be on good behavior?

C'ran taps his finger against his chin, seemingly giving the matter great consideration before nodding and passing the wineskin across, that same mischief lurking behind his eyes, just a hint of devilment "Fair enough I suppose."  possible she could, he, as one of Ista's most infamous blue riders, is under no such stipulation "A warm body is always the nicest offer one could make.  Though this does seem a rather public place, why anyone could fly by at any moment and see us..." he lets the word hang in the air for a moment before continuing on "drinking, and want some for themselves."  subtly, where for art thou subtly.

Wherever it may be, Lis is quite adept in the art of Not Getting It, glissing over C'ran's words with a warm smile as she takes a conservative sip from the wineskine. "Mmm. True. And I can see why you wouldn't want to share this with just anyone..." Another delicate sip is taken, this one just a bit more fulfulling before she passes the skin back, hands stretched out behind her  as she relaxes on the fur, peering innocently sky-wards.

C'ran swallows a small drink with relish, the smile of the cat who caught the canary upon his lips, "Isn't it wonderful  An old harper friend gave it to me, Aife.  From your neck of the woods I believe, if you're from up north."  nothing like the a skin of wine to warm the bones.  "Though I should warn you, drink enough of it and you might get a touch light headed." shouldn't want to give the wrong idea of taking advantage.  At least not without warning.  "And what brings you to our rather warmer surroundings?"

"Oh, Aife!" Lis chirps happily, vaguely heeding his warning at the taste of exquisit wine. "I know Aife. Sort of. Seen her around," she explains, slipping a drink - or two - of wine in that convuluted series of statements. The smile on C'ran's face is not noticed - partially, because she's not suspecting it, and partially because of the delightfully snuggly ambiance - wine, fur and cute blueriders.

C'ran
Upon looking at C'ran, attention is immidiately drawn to his eyes.  Within the bright sapphire orbs glow a warm inviting fire that proclaims this rider to be your best friend and worthy of your trust and admiration.  Below, a small nose is proportional to a pair of lips often set in a mischivious smile, one that speaks of a desire to play.  Rounding out the picture, a full head of coppery red hair cascades down about his face.  Much to his dismay, those shining locks never remain quiescent, blowing across his face or falling into his eyes at the worst moment.  For all his prescence, the man is short of stature, having grown to a height of 5'6" and no heigher.  Small or not, its still no stranger to work with a well muscled lean grace, every movement fluid and confident.
Liquid ebony pours over C'ran's lithe body, form-fitting leathers of cured, oiled wherhide leaving nothing to the imagination. Glistening jacket is devoid of decouration, cropped at his hips, small onyx buttons blending into shadow over his chest. A second supple skin of over-softened sable 'hide coats well-muscled legs; even his glossy black boots meld seamlessly to his calves.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 11 minutes.
C'ran is 33 Turns, 10 months, and 18 days old.

C'ran grins "Yes, she's quite a handful, but she knows her wines."  he scootches down a bit laying his head back against the icy blue hide, letting his mate's warmth sort of halo about them.  "And what brings a lovely young rider such as yourself out to my neighborhood, if I might be so bold?"

Lis sits up briefly to stretch as she thinks of an answer, flopping back slowly with a sigh to look up at the darkening sky. "/Well/, I'm checking on the new leathers I've got comissioned down at Ista Hold, but I thought I'd see how the weyrlings were doing. Not officially, of course," she assures C'ran, not having noticed his knot due to the distraction of leathers, "wouldn't want the weyrlingmasters to balk. So I was just going to spy from the Star Stones. Though, it did turn out much nicer than I'd thought," she adds coyly, voice dropping to a stage whisper.

C'ran just listens intently, the small smile playing across his lips in no way intimating the roaring laughter held in check.  His eyes dip downwards slowly before returning to meet your gaze "Very nice leathers actually, they do rather accentuate some rather nice qualities."  he glances around conspiratorily as if another might hear before leaning forward "Though they likely won't save you if you're caught.  The weyrlingmaster here at Ista is rumored to be a complete sex fiend, seduces young women all the time, an incredible lover, never spends the night alone.  But at the same time, he's said to be thoroughly possesive of those in his charge, simply can't stand others interfering."

Lis returns the favor to C'ran, giving his own black-leathered form a good scanning before complimenting brightly, "As do yours." The greenrider rolls on the side towards the bluerider, head propped up on her hand as she listens with fascination at the description of the weyrlingmaster. "Oh! I'm not sure if that's terrible or wonderful. Our weyrlingmaster is just like that - almost. Well, he was, if you're going to be picky about it but..." She trails off, eyes unfocusing briefly before she declares, "Interesting fellow, though, even if I don't think I'd want to run into him alone." Now, if that isn't rife with irony...

C'ran inclines his head with all the grace of a full bodied bow from the waste rather then a slight movement.  "Yes well, if you hear anybody mention the name C'ran, it'd be best if you took off back home.  Don't want to be caught unawares by the likes of him."  with a little stretch he settles down comfortably, a feline in a sunbeam could not look more content.  "However, I'm quite sure the weyrlings are doing rather well- ah?" he doesn't seem to have caught your name.

Lis cocks her head in amusement at the bow, throughly wine- and charm-fuzzied. "Of course, sir. I'll be sure to remember that." She files the name away into her memory - or, at least, does a very good job of attempting to - before supplying her name. "Lis, of High Reaches, and Alymath's rider. Wingsecond too, if you're getting into titles and everything," divulges she, nose wrinkling in vague disgust.

C'ran shrugs his shoulders non-commitally "Titles never really have a ton of meaning I don't think, all felines are the same color."  he smiles brightly "And my honors to you as well Alymath, Celth asked me not to tell you that he thinks your rather lovely."  the dragon behind them whuffles, sending a ripple down his torso.  "Most honored to make you acquaintance Lis who wears lovely new leathers."

"She'll be glad to know that," Lis assures C'ran, though she doesn't quite know he /is/ C'ran just yet. Words come out just a little slurred and just a little too slow as she peers up at the bluerider, wondering with the usual bumbling innocence that she's terribly good at, "And what's your name, rider of blue Celth? Or don't I get to know? 'Man with the delicious leathers' just doesn't have the right ring to it..."

C'ran smiles brightly, a sort of matter of fact ring to his words "Oh, didn't I mention?  I'm C'ran, rider of blue Celth.  I always forget the introductions."  especially with such, as you put it, delicious distractions.  "Though I think that has a rather nice ring to it.  Even if you could probably come up with even more intriguing names."

Lis' jaw drops as she gapes openly at C'ran, whom she's now identified. Rolling back up into a sitting position, she attempts to bring herself to alertness instead of a warm and fuzzy drunken stupor. "You're not going to... pounce me, or anything, are you?" Before this can be established, her voice drops to a hushed, worried tone in which she asks, "I'm not in too much trouble, am I?"

The edges of the mans lips curl up into an enourmously amused expression "Given time enough, perhaps.  But I'll tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anyone else..." he pushes himself up and leans forward, his voice a rather loud stage whisper "Rumors about weyrlingmasters are always blown out of proportion.  All this one might like is a simple kiss."  and the mischief lurking within him is revealed at last, a great game worthy of the likes of Pan of Loki.  "And as to the amount of trouble you're in, that depends on whether you intend to break your offer of payment for the wine and leave me without company or conversation."

Lis is silent for a long moment after C'ran speaks, though whether it's from absorbing all this, or being the proximity of the slandered weyrlingmaster, only Faranth knows. "I don't suppose a kiss is too much to ask for," murmurs the greenrider to herself, self-placatingly, deciding, "I'd never go back on my word - especially if I'll get in trouble -" though this is muttered to herself, softly, "and therefore am not leaving." Just what has she promised herself into?

Turns out, it would be Cerise, some nine months later.