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June 4, 2002 - via e-mail

Keroon Racetrack
A vast dirt oval sits waiting for the thunderous pounding of hooves that the marks in the dirt give evidence of. The wide span of dirt track meets up to a white picket fence on both sides. The flag of Keroon Hold waves proudly in the wind where a high tower looms over the track. In the center of the oval is green grass with a small circle of dirt near one side of the track. A small lake near the center attracts various avians and firelizards. On the other side of the track, stands grow up toward the sky so that every one can see the race below.

Arora
Sparkling and curious emerald eyes peer out from behind thick lashes, flanking a dainty button nose; untamed flaxen locks, which caress high cheekbones and then fall loosely down past slender neck, frame her oval shaped face. Crimson lips are slightly uneven, yet this trifling fault only adds to her overall attractiveness. Ample figure is in precise proportion to her elevated stance - a noble 6 feet, and her whole body is covered in golden, gleaming, tanned skin.
Lustrous and sleek crimson leather adorns Arora's curvy figure all the way from upper midriff to clinging curve of the sleeveless, strapless bodice. Intimate leather trous then embrace every dip and arch of hip and leg and then disappear smoothly into knee high boots, their ample heals and solid soles insulate the wearer from either extreme heat or profound cold.
She wears the descriptive knot of Keroon's Headwoman.

Chancey (Canine)
Light golden feathers of fuzzy fur float out over the lean form of this young male canine, softening and hiding powerful leg muscles and a deep chest. He stands about mid-thigh to an adult, and sports a sweet face with a snuffling nose constantly questing about for new things, and a pair of soft and soulful brown eyes capable of charming a game of fetch or a tummy rub from the hardest of hearts. His manner is bouncy and irrepressible, often greeting the world with a glad bark, while feather-duster tail swishes frantically, threatening any nearby breakables.

G'deon
Narrow blue eyes peer out from a rather tan face, an unruly mop of blonde spiraling down to just above broad, well-muscled shoulders. G'deon stands at just a bit over six feet, his build now a bit more lean than brawny, his legs still possessing the wiry strength of a long-distance runner.
Sturdy black boots, darker than deepest night, give way to rather thick, close-fitting, black leather trousers, dotted at various areas and heights with pockets. From there is found a thick, black, wherhide belt cinched tightly at the waist, holding in place a rather loose blue shirt just a shade above navy. The shirt is a bit coarse but appears warm, the roomy sleeves falling to the wrists in modest bellows, tied firmly at the cuffs with two strings hanging from either corner of the collar usually open in a V shape just below the neck. Ivanova rests on G'deon's shoulder casually, keeping a careful watch.

G'deon leans quite at ease against a length of railing running along the outside of the wide oval racetrack, sky blue eyes squinting into the sunlight as he follows the easy progress of a pair of young runners with their riders seated high. One hand is raised to lightly scratch the headknobs of the firelizard at his shoulder, the gold's large eyes whirling slowly in bright, glowing blue as her gaze rests more on the avians than the runners. In either case, attention spans are rather focused at this point as the visitors enjoy the quiet day.

Running fast to keep up with her overly excited canine, Arora yells breathlessly for the shardit animal to, "Just wait up! Stop!" Not a befitting sight for the Headwoman of Keroon, but since when did Rora ever care what people thought? As soon as she spies the handsome physique of a man leaning against the rail, however, her demeanor changes and she nearly stumbles into a halt. Pace changes from a trot to a stride, echoing the actions of the runners passing them by on the nearby racetrack. It would also seem that Chancey has gotten a look of the man too, which is why the four legged wherry changes course and rushes to the gent's side, barking a greeting before flopping into a untidy, seated heap at G'deon's feet. Rora couldn't be happier with the decision-first, because she can now stop chasing him, and second... Introductions should be made. Then again, the hunk looks familiar, but it's not until she nearly beside him that the woman notices just /who/ it is. "I see you came back," she offers in form of greeting.

G'deon turns his head slowly as he first hears the headwoman's shouts, his eyes finally leaving the pacing runners to settle on Arora's as one sun-bleached brow rises curiously. Lips spread in a wide grin, however, as the Keroonian's figure added to the golden canine tips off a quickly vivid memory of a short meeting in the local tavern. "I did indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you again, headwoman Arora," Gid replies smoothly, dipping into a short bow before stooping to scratch the canine's ears quickly, much to his firelizard's dismay as she soon heads off to perch on the fencing a few paces off. "I never tire of watching the Keroon stock," he explains unnecessarily as he straightens, nodding to runners gradually nearing them on the track. "Especially in such a lovely atmosphere. And company," he adds with a boyish grin. "You're doing well, I hope? Any word from your brother?"

As Chancey cozies up to the rider via the pats given to his head, Rora cozies up on a much /different/ level. Leaning against the post directly beside the rider, she reaches up to toss aside a strand of hair, before winking at him and motioning with her head towards the runners behind them. "Aye. I never tire of such stock either..." Though if she's still talking about the four legged kind, only Faranth knows. Rora then waves off the compliment, moving the hand to fan at her face-which is slightly pinkened from running and not from embarrassment. "Well, it's been said that the company of Keroonian leaves one begging for more," she replies just as smoothly, her lids lowering over her emerald gaze in sensual repose. "And I am doing well, rider G'deon..." The words of 'especially since I saw you,' hang unspoken in the air between them. As for talk of her brother... "Not in some time, I'm afraid. Though once again, I'm sure he's taking care of himself quite well. Or, more likely, someone's taking good care of him." She chuckles at the jest, certain that Gids is aware of her brother's dependent nature. Eyes widening, she then looks around for sign of the bronzerider's dragon, before her gaze falls on him once more. "Your ride leave you behind?" she asks sweetly.

"You're pretty lucky to be living right here in Keroon, then," G'deon replies with a charming smile, his focus more on Arora than the runners. "Best racing in the whole world." The rider then laughs softly, ragtop head of hair bouncing slightly as he nods. "Begging for another chance perhaps." And Faranth only knows what he's talking about now. Possibly still runners, seeing as Gid can be pretty dense at times. "Ah, perhaps. I've been thinking I should head back to High Reaches one of these next few days. Just to see how things are going, of course," the rider finishes quickly, frowning a little, lips thinning as he turns to watch the runners again while his eyes unfocus a bit. "And... no, Nylanth is still in the field where I left him. Don't worry, there weren't any animals nearby. He just likes the smell."

"I like to think I've been pretty lucky too," replies the ex-hostess come Headwoman. Her whole life, Rora never dreamt that such an opportunity would present itself to her. And it wasn't gained via bedsheets either, which is something the woman is sharding proud of, to say the least. As the rider makes a jest, Rora assumes that it's in reference to her, which therefore makes her laughter ring with a faint hint of confusion. However, her features remain masked-revealing nothing except that which she allows to be seen. Eyes are still partially hooded, lips open slightly, and cheeks fairly flushed from her exercise. Speaking of which, the cause for her jog takes that moment to bark, breaking the silence between them. Arora jumps at the sound, before reaching down to deliver a gentle set of pats to Chancey while she moves the conversation along. "Oh, I'm sure that the herders made certain to hide away their stock, knowing that a dragon was a'coming." Lucky for her, the same seemed to have occurred with the womenfolk of the Hold, for she seems to be the only gal in the area-which, of course, is perfectly fine with her. "So tell me, G'deon," she then asks, the rider's name dropping from her tongue like liquid sweetener, "How long do you have, before you rush back up to your stony weyr?" Perhaps they could continue their chat in a more... relaxed setting.

G'deon turns his back on the racetrack as he watches Arora with her canine, a relaxed smile on his face. "I wouldn't worry about the Herders, really. Nylanth is a good lad, just insatiably curious about things, so he likes to watch. He can watch absolutely nothing for hours on end if he finds it at all interesting." A plainly fond expression appears as the rider gives a quiet laugh and glances up at Arora, his head tilted just a little. "And, I've got most of the day left," he finally replies, standing from the railing to straighten his shirt a little and roll the loose sleeves to his elbows. Keroon may not be as warm as Ista in winter, but it still beats the northern plains. "A couple of the Herder masters are writing out a report for some of the Istan ones, and by the way they were bickering..." Gid trails off and winks, implying that he'll be around for quite a while yet.

Rora finds the thought of a curious dragon amusing, her laughter once again ringing out and echoing across the tracks. A few nearby runners pick up their ears at the gay sound, shaking their head as though they're used to the Headwoman's humour. "I can just imagine what kind of questions he asks when you're being..." Her words drop to a mock whisper... "Intimate." Grin. At the rider's admission that he's available for the rest of the afternoon, Arora almost claps her hands in delight, before laying one slender palm atop his now-bared arm. "Well then, how bout you and I go and finish off that drink from your last visit. If I'm correct, we currently have some Benden Cross in stock. A little harsher than the regular wine, but it certainly puts the warmth into your belly.." Among other things.

"At first, perhaps," G'deon answers quite honestly, wide shoulders shrugging just a bit. "By now, though, I guess he's just become used to it. And none of this silly 'flying' nonsense some other dragons seem to equate it with." Correct terminology is very important to this bronze pair. "But at first...." He trails off, trying desperately to hold off his laughter as he shakes his head slowly. "It rather ruined the moment now and then to suddenly hear in my head all these questions and comparisons." And size never even entered the picture, thank Faranth. The amused smirk combined with an interested look at the mention of wine gives a quite unintentional roguish look, though hardly the most dashing one this rider is capable of. "Harsh? Well, perhaps. It's all relative, don't you think?" G'deon gestures back towards the hold while offering a shallow, but impeccably correct bow.

Arora continues to chuckle as G'deon relates his humorous beginnings with his dragon. Meanwhile, Chancey loses interest in the conversation and lopes off to do his own thing-leaving the Headwoman and Istan rider alone. "Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to have a connection like that," Rora states, as she waves off the bow and starts to walk arm in arm with Gids towards the Hold. Instead of taking the road, she takes him across the Gather grounds, their steps snapping the frozen grass as they pass across the large field. "Then again," she continues, grinning as she cuddles close-her excuse the chill winds, "I don't know how much I'd care to share certain experiences with anyone." Smiling to let him know that she's joking, Arora adds, "Some things, I'd like to keep to myself, if you know what I mean." Obviously, this holdbred knows little about dragon-rider communiques, and she's not to keen to learn. Much more fun to guess at the connection.

G'deon walks slowly along with the headwoman's arm in his, eyes as blue as the winter sky above turning towards the fields beyond to where his lifemate, unseen from this angle, is still quite content watching ice crystals in the sunlight. "Well... it's like nothing else, which makes for poor explanations," he begins quietly before turning to smile at the woman just inches shorter than he. "Sometimes it's like talking to yourself in a way, but not really. It's more of a completely separate consciousness in your mind and yet tangible... Even when we're far apart, I'm always conscious of where Nylanth is, what he's feeling, sometimes what he's thinking." Gid shrugs however, lips spreading in a wide grin as he's unable to describe any better than that. "And that part has certainly gotten better since our weyrling times. Any cuddling going on is so far unobserved as G'deon is quite happy to walk blithely on. "There's really very little I /can/ hide from Nylanth, and most of that I prefer to share."

The Headwoman can only imagine the looks she'd get were she to start talking to Chancey. 'Of course,' she thinks, as they make their way slowly towards the ramp that leads towards Keroon's main courtyard, 'Canines are a far cry from dragons.' "It sounds like a lovely friendship," Rora states aloud. As their footsteps clomp against the wood of the ramp, the woman continues to huddle closer to the rider, commenting on the chill with an exaggerated shiver. "Well, you can share the warmth that we'll soon be experiencing with him, for we'll soon be at the Tavern, filling our bellies with Benden Cross." And sure enough, at those words, they take the last few steps into the Courtyard, directly across from their destination. "Hurry," she exclaims, pulling the rider a little closer as she ups her pace. "The wind's picking up, and I have a feeling that it's going to snow soon."

"My best friendship," G'deon replies with open honesty, shoulders hunching a bit as a gust of wind whips around them, drawing the rider's eyes upwards. "Snow? Feels more like rain to me, but I can never tell this close to the ocean." And 'close' is always relative as well. "It's certainly a bit chilly, however. I think that Benden would be just the thing." The rider wraps his arm around Arora's shoulders as they hurry across the courtyard where very little offers any sort of shelter from the wind.

The Hitching Post
You see a bar. Full of Keroon-ites. And other unsavory things like that. It has been extended since it's last incarnation, making room for a gigantic new serving 'bar', which runs almost the whole length of the room. Off in one corner is a small door leading to an 'office' for the head Hostess and her Assistant. Originating near it is a joyous cacophony, the result of the newly renovated game room. Along the wall abutting the hold proper are doors leading into the rest of the Hold, and a staircase leading to rooms for travelers. Another door leads out to the main Courtyard, while square tables are distributed throughout the rest of the room are table, easily pulled together for larger gatherings.

"Well, something damp and wet is bound to fall soon, so let's hurry," replies Arora upon arriving at the door of the Tavern. No sooner have they stepped within the glow-lit room, is the Headwoman signaling for a nearby hostess for service. Quick handsignals flash between the two women, while the ex-server communicates that they'd like two glasses and a full bottle of Benden Cross. Rora then directs the rider towards her favourite seat in the house-a rounded table in the corner. Located close to the bar, but with both chairs facing the door, it gives a wide view of the whole Post. "Here we are," she states, reaching up to shake out her windblown hair. "Make yourself comfortable. Our drinks should be here any minute." Sure enough, there returns the hostess with the order. How's that for service, neh?

G'deon settles into the offered chair slowly, quite at ease as he gives the tavern a quick look before grinning over at Arora. "You know, if this sort of weather makes you scurry for shelter I doubt you'd like the winters up at 'Reaches too much." Good going, Gid, way to compliment a lady. "Although, the wine flows pretty quickly up there as well," he muses idly, leaning back as he stretches his long legs out under the table. "Always an enjoyable way to stay warm, I suppose." He nods to the hostess and gives her a charming smile before reaching for the bottle and dealing with it like any expert Inferno rider would. The rider sets a glass of the wine in front of Arora then pours his own before finally sitting back again, the glass cradled in one hand in front of him. The better to study the wine, of course, not to mention the headwoman. "So you're fond of the Benden Cross?" Just making conversation, really.

The Headwoman gives one more mock shiver before taking her seat across from the rider. "Oof, don't even suggest such a thing," she jokes, eyeing G'deon as he pours their drinks. "I once visited my brother there during the spring months, and I still nearly froze." Technically, she stayed very warm most of her time there-bundled up beneath the furs of several willing weyrfolk, no doubt. And as for the wine, "I doubt that any amount of alcohol could keep me satisfied during the winter. I much prefer a warm body to liquor any day." Arora drops a wink with that one, before moving on smoothly to reply to the man's other question. "Actually," she states, reaching down for her glass and lifting it in toast. "I find the Cross to be lacking somewhat. Don't get me wrong, I love a fine wine as much as the next person, but my absolute favourite is a Flaming Faranth's Fire." A concoction only someone as fiery as the Headwoman herself could have come up with. "It's a mix of firewhiskey, fruit juices and certain.. spices... Now /that/ is guaranteed to heat you right up." And with that said, she brings the glass to her lips for a delicate sip, before running a slender finger around the rim. "This just makes you.. Comfortable."

"True, a bottle isn't much good for conversation," G'deon concedes with a gracious nod of his head, the corners of his lips threatening to turn the mild smile there into a teasing grin. "It can seem like a close second at times, however." The rider swirls his glass slowly, eyes trained on the liquid within for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to Arora's face, an automatically charming smile quickly in place. "Either way, though, its' quite possible to survive those cold, northern winters. And autumns... and springs." By now he's just teasing again, of course. A brow rises quizzically, eyes squinting in a rather skeptical look as the headwoman begins to explain her drink of choice. "Flaming Faranth's Fire," the rider echoes in a drawl. "Well, I've got to admit, I'm intrigued... but just 'spices', huh? Trade secret or something?" His mouth stretches into a grin just bordering on his more roguish sort before taking a long, slow drink of the wine. He then cradles his glass between his fingers, quite patient to wait for a satisfactory answer. Comfortable? Shells, yeah.

The Headwoman is truly beginning to enjoy herself, especially since the rider seems to be teasing back. "I can only imagine," she replies to his first jest. "You must have many tricks to help you get through those chilly seasons." Idly, Rora wonders what else-apart from alcohol and a warm body-the Reachians might use to stay warm. Her eyes sparkle as she imagines further... exploits and experiences. "Maybe I will have to return someday, for a longer period of time." She's a free spirited sort, so it's not like she'd encounter anything /too/ racy. Another sip is taken from her glass, as she ponders telling him the secrets of her fiery drink. Bringing her fore finger up to her lips, Rora then gives a smile and whispers, "Shh. If I told you, I'd then have to kill you." Or, at least, dispose of him in such a fashion that no one would ever see him again. You can only imagine the devices she has in mind...

G'deon takes a tiny sip of his wine, blue eyes glimmering as they crinkle at the corners in a hidden grin. "I'd hardly call them tricks," he finally replies, voice filled with mild, mock indignation. He's hardly as insulted as he's making a poor attempt to appear, but this little bronzerider was once tricked rather deviously. And by a weyrwoman! The horror. "Lots of furs and blankets always help." Mmmhmmm... G'deon leans forward somewhat conspirationally, his glass set quietly on the table. "But then Nylanth might decide to know why and I'm sure you don't want to clean up an entire Hold after something like /that/." He can be most... intrusive sometimes. Just ask Ista Hold's former Lady Holder. The rider leans back again, however, with a somewhat boyish grin, smith's shoulders shrugging just a bit. "But I'm sure High Reaches would always be glad for a visit from you."

The Headwoman's laughter can no longer be held back, and she lets go with a hearty guffaw at the idea of a large, bronze dragon questioning a blanket-covered romp around a weyr. "I'm terribly sorry for having mis-judged you," she tells G'deon, her face now nurturing a mask of seriousness-though her eyes continue to sparkle in merriment. "Tricks they are not, but devious plots, neh?" Arora raises her glass then in toast, declaring, "Well, if my brother will have me, then perhaps I /shall/ return to the Reaches. I certainly hope they're ready for me!" Because last time, it seemed as though the weyr was caught by surprise by this feisty holdbred woman. She put several rogue riders to shame, and made most greenriders appear as calm as summer breezes! "To friendly visits!" Rora continues, her cup now raised close to the rider's own. "And visiting friends..." Said in true Harper fashion.

"Ah, now plotting..." G'deon trails off, winking at Arora as he takes his glass in hand again. "Plotting is certainly something Nyls and I are quite acquainted with. And why Kh'ryn take you in for a visit?" he adds, shoulders hunching in a curious fashion. He's never been particularly good at gossip. "Family is one thing that is pretty much impossible to replace, after all. And I'm sure he'd love to show off his children to you, if you haven't seen them already." Yes, plural. Very plural. Randy little blue riders.... Arora's toast, however, whisks away any such thoughts, bringing a happily content smile to the rider's face. "And to friends new and old," G'deon offers in reply before gently clinking his glass against that of the headwoman. He raises his glass just a bit more for emphasis before taking a long, appreciative drink, then settles back against the chair with a broad grin. By outward appearances, Gid is certainly enjoying this visit with such a boisterous woman, free of the pomp and circumstance so often required in the Turns past under his old role.

Rora raises a brow at the rider's self-assured adept ability to plot, and she idly wonders what type of mischief the two lifemates might have landed in, in the past. However, those thoughts are chased away by the mention of Kh'ryn's children, and the Headwoman simply chuckles and replies, "Yes. I wouldn't mind getting to meet my nieces and nephews. Take a peek at which ones have their auntie's good looks, and see how much I could spoil them before returning home." Grin. After clinking their glasses together, she too brings the wine to her mouth, taking a long drink to echo that of the rider's. Her gaze sweeps over his reposed form, and Arora wonders if all bronzeriders are truly so relaxed? From what she's heard (and barely seen while at the weyr) most bronzers seem to act as though they've got great shoes to fill-yet G'deon acts quite differently. 'He must have been a craft person before impression,' the woman silently guesses. 'That might explain his comfortable nature, and lack of ego.'

"I'm sure a little spoiling here and there would be greatly appreciated," G'deon replies quietly, smiling warmly at the mentioned 'auntie'. "It's often so difficult for riders to be involved in their children's lives, but it would certainly be fantastic if the little ones could still know they have family out here in the rest of Pern." The rider pauses then, again focusing on the slowly swirling wine within his cup before tossing the rest of it back with a nearly silent sigh, the grin he gives Arora now a bit more reserved than before. But it's the life we live, right? And life /is/ meant to be lived." Warning: rider waxing philosophical. "So, Arora, do you have any little ones running about? Not counting your dear canine," he quickly adds, winking at the woman across from him.

Everything is going well and fine-from the philosophy to the slowly depleting bottle of wine-until Gids mentions family, and Rora's possible lack thereof. The Headwoman nearly spits out the mouthful of alcohol, reaching to wipe her lips and blink rapidly at the question. "Me?" she croaks, her composure slowly falling apart at the leather seams of her form-fitting outfit. "Children? Oh no no, never me." Though her reply is fairly short, the horror-struck look upon features and the constant coughing and fanning say enough by themselves. After taking a deep breath, Rora once again gathers herself, her smile apologetic, while her eyes remain disbelieving. "I'm sorry. I suppose that I haven't truly introduced myself. Headwoman Arora-single as they'll ever come, with no thoughts of a family." The fact that she near worships her green stuff is enough evidence of that. Leaning back in her chair, trying to get comfortable once again, she adds, "It's not that I don't like brats... I mean... kidlets. It's just that.." That what? Certainly the last few months have changed the Headwoman, what with her adapting to caring for a pet and everything... But has she seriously started to have doubts about her lack of offspring? "Preposterous," Rora mumbles under her breath, before reaching back for her wineglass and downing the contents in one single gulp. "Fill'er up again," she then asks Gids, motioning with her cup towards the bottle.

G'deon's expression goes carefully blank as Arora reacts to his well-meaning question. One slow blink, then two, the rider remembers to smile if a little rigidly, shoulders rolling in a careless shrug as he reaches to refill both glasses and taking his time about it. He gives the headwoman a curious look as he leans forward to place her glass in front of her once more before sitting back with his own, his head tilted a tiny bit. "Never is a long time," he finally replies, faint humor ringing in his voice despite his own first reaction. "But I certainly understand. It's good to know so strongly how you feel, one way or the other. A child born to unwilling parents has a hard road ahead." Meant to be a compliment, Gid gives the woman a much warmer smile and raises his glass in an impromptu motion. "To future happiness, in whichever forms it may come."

"Yes, never is a long time," the Headwoman mutters quietly in response. She then watches as G'deon refills both their glasses, before reaching forth for her cup. However, the liquid never touches her lips for some time-as instead, she sits and contemplates in silence for several minutes. Finally, Arora's thoughts turn back to the enjoyable company at hand, and she smiles again, raising her glass and toasting him back. "Aye. Future happiness." Whatever the future holds for either of them is not for them to see, so may's well live joyfully in the present. "So tell me, bronzerider. Have you any children of your own? Such a virile looking man like yourself must have spawned dozens by now."

G'deon takes a long drink of wine before setting the glass back on the table quietly, sky blue eyes focused on Arora in silent study for a moment before a warm smile curves his lips, tiny creases appearing at the corners of his eyes in a genuine look of affection at the mention of his own children. "Only three," he replies quietly, eyes twinkling lightly. "I've been rather careful to keep it that way, as well. There are the two by Ilare, twins in fact," he informs the headwoman, brows rising as if he still can't quite believe that part. "Iliad and Atlantis, a son and daughter respectively. And then Pidgery, another son, born on the same day as the other two." The rider pauses then, that fond smile still lingering a moment as he shakes his head slowly, an almost sad light entering his expression for a moment. "Shells, they're probably all walking and talking by now," G'deon comments softly as if to himself, one hand rising to rub at his chin idly. "I don't see them nearly enough now that I'm at Ista."

Only three!? Arora chuckles at both that and the name of his one son. "Pidgery?" she asks, trying not to laugh too hard. "That certainly is an... interesting name." She watches as the rider goes slightly sentimental over his children, still smiling. However, the tiniest of frowns begins to appear upon her brow, as she once again wonders at the 'hidden' joys she's missing out on. "I can imagine that it's hard, considering the distance." Then again, he /is/ a rider, right? Still, duty calls. She certainly knows enough about /that/. "I'm sure their mother.. er .. mothers keep them informed about you. You know, tell them good stories and .. all of that." Of course, some mother's aren't so nice, but... G'deon doesn't seem like the kind of person that people could get upset with-let alone tell awful stories about.

Only three, in comparison to a few younger riders who may remain nameless for now... "Well, that would be the mother's choice in name," G'deon replies dryly, voice losing a bit of its warmth as the said mother enters the conversation, replaced with a sense of unease and even confusion. He shakes it off with a shrug of one shoulder, however, and smiles a little at Arora, head tilting as he beings to turn his wineglass slowly by the stem. "It's not so much distance, but time. And it's just plain easier when you're right there to go visit the children. Now, I need to make sure I have the free time, that I let my superiors know where I am, for how long, I have to change for the 'Reaches weather, not to mention get all my riding gear... And that's not to say it's not worth it, just that there's more involved, and it's hard to fit in." The rider runs a hand through his tousled mop of blonde hair in a mild gesture of frustration as he takes a deep breath, finally smiling again as he gives a somewhat helpless shrug. "Ilare and the little ones do visit now and then, but it's even harder for her to find the time these days..." He finally trails off again and lifts the glass to his lips to take a rather long pull, slouching down in his chair another degree.

Arora listens, and sympathises with the rider. Of course she can understand. Her own family lives far away-in Paradise, in fact-and since she's without the accompaniment of a dragon, her trips are infrequent and carefully planned. Gaze tightens in curiousity at G'deon's expression when he speaks of his one child's mother-Pyrene's the name? However, as he seems to relax when finished speaking, the Headwoman allows it to pass without further question. "Well.." is what she replies to all of that, unsure of what else to say. She too takes a long pull from her wineglass, the silence thickening between them. Finally, she takes a breath and speaks. "Well, you'll just have to get them to move down here," she states, and then winks. "Or just have some more to make up the loss." Of course, she's only joking. Even someone as selfish as Rora knows that you can't just /replace/ the love of a child.. Still, the idea has its merits. Of course, the Headwoman is not auditioning for the role of mother, that's for sure!

"I'm sorry," the rider apologizes quietly, expression sober though he does smile, if a little sadly. "It's just a lot to deal with, I guess. Moving, the climate, and we're not just talking weather," G'deon adds with a wry cast to the smile. "And it was a rather hard drop from weyrleader to just some unknown face in the crowd, much as I hate to admit it. I like people, and I like people to know me… but I suppose it's a good way to start over." Perhaps it's the wine, but the bronze rider seems to be rambling more than usual. He notices this at last, and gives Arora a rather embarrassed grin. "Loss? It's not really a loss, just an inconvenience. Unless you count all the things I miss while I'm away… I'd always wanted to be a father, you see. And now that I am, it just hasn't worked out the way I'd liked. That's all." He suddenly laughs, mood lightening quickly. "And as for more? Not any time soon, thanks. I drink my 'red stuff' just about as often as I drink wine." An exaggeration, surely, but it gets the point across.

"No need to apologize," states the Headwoman, reaching out with one slender hand to gently squeeze the rider's arm. "I can only imagine how you must feel-to have been moved away from your family, friends, and your job." Rora blinks in surprise at this-she never knew that the man was also an ex-weyrleader. Shards, no wonder he's mourning! "Actually," the woman continues, "I know a little of what you're feeling. I used to live and work in Paradise, but had to leave rather.. um.. suddenly." She got caught with a young man who's mother was non-too-keen on having this wild woman as her son's love interest. With the threat of 'marry or flee', it makes sense why Arora took the path less traveled. "But to this day, I do not regret it. Sure, there are some times when I wonder what might have happened would I have stayed, but.." She shrugs. "No use wishing for dragons that were not ours to Impress, huh?" The old saying makes her laugh, because of the fact that before her sits a man who /did/ happen to have found his lifemate, and so that puts him so much higher than anyone else experiencing life's troubles. "You should think of the good things," she offers, a little snidely. Sure, he might be human too, but he shouldn't forget the things going for him. Then again, neither should she. With a sigh, she smiles and lets go of her faint trace of jealousy. "Plus, you now have a new friend to come visit... And I'm a lot closer than anyone at Reaches!"

G'deon smiles softly as he glances up at Arora, sun-bleached eyebrows rising in surprise. "Paradise?… Oh that's right, same as Kh'ryn." He grins a little more and sits back slowly, taking a slow sip of wine as his narrow blue eyes twinkle. "You know, it's rather funny in a way that the place is called Paradise, and yet people keep moving away from it for one reason or another." But don't worry, no more philosophy on that topic from the bronzer for now as he laughs quietly, head tilting while a thoughtful expression appears. "But sometimes wishing for what we don't have is just the thing that spurs us onward to try for those things. And success or failure, we grow by them." Well, all right, maybe a little philosophy. Gid carefully sets his empty glass on the table, studying Arora askance. "And I don't forget the things I have. It was just the topic at hand." The rider pauses then, eyes slightly unfocused. "You're right, however. It's all too easy to bring to mind what isn't right than what is."

Well, if we want to get philosophical. "Of course I'm right. We Pernese have a way of dwelling on the 'bad' things in life. But all of our little problems can hardly compare with how the first settlers must have felt, having to fight of Thread without the assistance of dragons.." Rora shivers at that thought, before continuing. "Which means that we should always remember that things /could/ be worse. A little wishing never hurt anybody, true. But too much of it isn't good for ya." Even if it does push you forward in life. The headwoman leans forward to squeeze G'deon's arm once more, before releasing it and reclining back into her chair. "Still, I'm certain-from what I know of ye-that you'll do just fine over in Ista." Arora hiccups with that last statement, her accent returning thanks to the wine. A giggle escapes and she reaches up to cover her mouth. "Just like wine. A little makes you happy, but too much can make you ill." Luckily for the both of them, they haven't had /nearly/ enough to reach that point... Yet.

G'deon peers at Arora closely for a very long moment or two as she goes on about settlers somewhere who didn't have dragons then gives her wineglass the same treatment before finally glancing at the headwoman again. "Uh huh," is his only reply to that part, voice carefully neutral. "Well… anyway," the rider continues in a low drawl, expression going a bit blank in that lifemate-communication kind of way, "I won't be at Ista too terribly longer, I don't think. My training is going along quite well, so I expect to be back at High Reaches as soon as autumn." How's that for positive thinking? "And until then, we'll be just fine, yes. If nothing else, there's always incredible swimming somewhere on the island. Very convenient when you don't want to go between afterwards." He then blinks a little at Arora's last statement, his head tilting just a bit. "Wait, you're saying I'm like wine?" Or he's just not quite able to make the jump from wishes to wine. Or if wishes were wine… or… what was it?

The Headwoman continues to prattle on, making sense to no one but herself, it would seem. After realizing that the rider is replying to her prattle, she stops talking and blinks when she catches the words, "back at Reaches by autumn." Pouting Arora runs a slender finger around the rim of her glass. "Hmmph. That only leaves another two seasons," she states aloud-as though the two of them are having more than just a friendly drink together. Wine induced thoughts tend to muddle a person's mind, you know. And speaking of wine... Leaning in, Rora licks her alcohol-tipped finger, before placing the damp digit upon G'deon's hand. Then, she returns her finger to her mouth. "Mmmm, I'd say you tasted just like this Benden Cross." Giggle. See, now she /warned/ you that this wasn't any ordinary vintage. It's on a potency level closer to that of brandy than anything else. And it would seem that this Keroonite has had more than her share of it!

This little bronzer is quite confused at this point, and the glasses of wine he's already put under his belt aren't exactly helping with that state of mind, nor with his ability to keep a similarly confused look from his expression. "Yes, two more seasons or so," he finally responds, unsure of what else six months would be. "It will be nice to be home again… much better for star-gazing." That just might be his lifemate talking for a moment there. "Er… you know, when it's colder out… easier to… never mind." G'deon frowns a little, gaze drifting towards the doors leading out into the courtyard where said dragon has situated himself for the time being. Arora's little finger trick brings a boyish grin to the rider's face as he laughs quietly, brows arching with an amused look as he replies in a likewise amused tone, "Now there's a compliment I've never received before." And any good Inferno rider, current or present, would certainly take it as such. Cue stupid, non-sultry, non-roguish grin.

That's alright if he's confused - Arora has that effect on people. Of course, when he starts spouting off about stars and cold and... stuff... the Headwoman herself seems to get a bit lost. "Uh huh," is all she replies to that. However, that soon clears when the rider gushes about her compliment. "Well, it's true!" she relates. "You're sweet, and delightful..." Not to mention intoxicating. Just staring into his gaze manages to make the Keroon woman a little weak in the knees. You can certainly tell that the wine has affected her-especially if she's getting crushes on a rider who'll be heading back home soon. Rora isn't the type to fall for a man-they tend to fall for her instead. The grin that G'deon gives her is mirrored back, and a drudge over in the corner can't help but chuckle at the sight of them two. First a canine, and now a crush.. Perhaps the ex-hostess /is/ changing after all...

"Sweet and delightful," G'deon echoes in a thoughtful tone, an amused look glimmering in his expression. "Again, something I've never heard before. You're just full of unique compliments, aren't you?" Laughing silently, he shakes his head once or twice in a slow motion before pushing his glass towards the center of the table, but not for a refill, it would appear. The rider gradually gathers his riding jacket from the floor behind him, then stands, moving out from behind the table to give Arora a smooth bow, just a hint of his trademark roguish grin on his lips. "Arora, it has been a delight sharing this afternoon and a bit of wine with you, but Nylanth informs me there is someone looking for me, so I'd best be on my way and then back to Ista. I'm expected to report back when I arrive." G'deon gives a helpless little shrug and smiles ruefully, still not /quite/ used to having to report to anyone.

The Headwoman grins in delight at the compliment sent her way, but that smile turns to a pout when the rider stands up to leave. "Oh, do you have to leave?" With his explanation, she sighs. "Well then, if you must go, at least take the rest of the Benden with you, as a reminder of our afternoon together." Yeah, he can drink it down once he gets back to his Weyr and contemplate all Arora said... Both the wise and the curious comments. The lithe woman then stands up too, and offers a hand outwards for shaking. "It was my pleasure, bronzerider. I wish you the best, and hope that another visit may be forthcoming sometime in the future?" Rora drops a wink and steps forward to alight the gentlest of kisses upon his cheek. "Clear skies," she finally offers.

[End of log - June 20, 2002]

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