Craft Courtyard
Small though it might seem compared to its brothers next door, this little bowl could easily harbor a trio of gold dragons. Spare of much other then dirt, as with the rest of the Weyr, the area has been properly cleared of most vegetation, allowing only for tiny sprouts that have grown up since the last clearing. Various points upon the ground seem well worn, smoothened from turns of lounging dragons as they sun in this out of the way spot.
Type 'crafts' to see a list of connected craft areas.
It is a bright, cheery day. Belior is waning from one quarter full and Timor is slightly more than a quarter full. It is a fall early morning.
You see Johassa Traders Lead Wagon here.
Tarlin is here.
From here you can go:
North Court Weyr
Bowl
Skylar moves away from the crafter's area, most particularly the herder's lil' nook. A pair of rags are held in one hand, a jar in the other, and a pair of blankets in yellow and white colors drape over his shoulder.
Tarlin comes running into the craft courtyard at full tilt, overshooting her mark and coming to a sliding halt on the other side of Skylar. Giggling and out of breath, she uses the stablehand as a leaning post, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Whatcha doin'?"
Skylar hesitates as Tarlin bursts forward, and then uses him as a support, "Just coming back from the Herders." Full hands lift, showing his bounty, "Hoof went and hurt one of his forelegs. Hit a branch earlier, swelling up rather nicely. As for the blankets... we're needing a few down there. Others are getting a little thread-bare. What are you up to?"
Tarlin wrinkles her nose at Skylar's admission, eyeing the blankets and then gazing off into the distance. "Oh... Well, shucks. I was gonna ask if ya wanted ta go for a ride. I mean.." She grins, crouching down beside him and plucking at the edge of the blanket. "We still haven't taken that ride we was gonna."
Skylar grins wryly. "Well, I don't know. I'll have to take a look at him... his foreleg. I won't be riding him anywhere if its swelled much." Dark eyebrows arch in emphasis to his statement.
Tarlin's brows lift in response and the girl brightens slightly. "Is that a yes?" she asks, straightening. She nearly bounces in her delight, her grin wide enough to split her face and set dimples in her cheeks.
Somehow, Tarlin manages to eek out a smile from Skylar, "We'll see. I've got to check that foreleg." Blankets are shifted upon his shoulder, before he glances from her to the direction out of the crafter's nook, "Shall we?"
"Yes!" Tarlin shouts triumphantly before darting ahead of Skylar. She then darts back and reins herself in beside the stablehand, giggling. "Sorry," she says softly, before grinning impishly. "Race ya there?" With the blankets on his shoulder, he doesn't have a chance of winning.. muaha.
Skylar eyes her for a long moment. "Sure." But he doesn't speak those words 'til he is already racing out.
**Running thru the bowl to the Stables outside…**
Weyr Stables
You step into a long cavern that serves as the weyrs stable. Stalls line either side of stone isle, and a few hay bales are stacked at the end. The scent of runners hangs like dew in the air, and a stable hand can be seen sweeping the isle. In one corner hangs a blanket racked with too many blankets and sheets stuffed onto it. An archway is draped with a curtain and leads to a room where the stablehands can take a break. Opposite that archway in another leading to the stable tackroom.
Systematically hung upon the wall are glowbaskests, each shedding enough light to see.
You see Sir Bucklot and Pegasus here.
Ailia is here.
The following runners are here, and not in the stables: Mortis
There are runners in the stables. Type '@stable' to see a list.
From here you can go:
Out
Tarlin has arrived.
Tarlin comes squealing to a halt just inside the stables. Out of breath and nearly wheezing, she almost slips, but manages to regain balance at the last minute. Giggling and coughing at the same time, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, the girl regards Skylar with a grin. She waggles a finger at him. "You.. *gasp* cheated!"
Now, the normal person would feel affronted by such an accusation. But Skylar freely admits to such. "Absolutely." His breath hitches as well, and his face is a fine red color. It isn't long before those saddle blankets over his shoulder are tossed over the door of a stall, along with the rags. "That 'n I've got longer legs."
A blonde head, coated with a healthy addition of straw pokes out above the wall of one of the stalls, a slightly breathy "Now that wasn’t nice." drifting out towards the main part of the stables, followed by "Now then, what did you do with my hide."
Tarlin socks Skylar in the shoulder, though it lacks its usual vigor as the girl continues to try to regain her breath. Bending over her knees, she notes the blonde head and the query coming from one of the stalls. She stands on tiptoe, practically climbing the door to peer over to the other side. "I din't do nothin' to your hide," she says and then giggles.
Skylar grins faintly, grabbing his shoulder with dramatics before wandering away and moving to his runner's stall. The speaker is noticed, causing him to hesitate, "Anything that I can help you with, miss?"
"Give me that. Will you just... let go.. let... woah, oh, no, don’t..." Words followed by a thump as the door of the stall falls open and Ailia tumbles out, her hide back in her hand and no longer in the mouth of the runnerbeast she had been looking at. From the floor she looks up, feeling slightly winded and a lot stupid. "Erm.. Hi! I am allowed to be here."
Tarlin manages to get out of the way just in time before the door comes flying open and Ailia comes spilling out. Getting herself resettled, she leans on--oh wait, Skylar's a bit taller than she, eh?--folds her arms and leans /in/ Skylar's direction. "Whatcha doin' in there?" she wonders, then looks over in the direction of Hoofhearted's stall, hoping to see the runner hale and hearty.
Skylar blinks and quickly comes to Ailia's rescue, putting down the jar of salve and reaching over to help the young woman up. "Are you okay there? Need some help?"
Ailia blushes, but accepts the hand up anyway. "I'm fine thanks. I was just having a look at this and comparing." she opens up the hide, then turns it up the right way. "The pictures arent really good and that one seemed friendly at first, but he wouldn’t let me examine him."
Tarlin giggles, leaning forward to glimpse at the hide and then at the runner in the stall. "Don't know much 'bout runners, do ya?" she asks. Not that /she/ knows much more. She glances at Skylar, a touch of rue coloring her features. She should've offered help, first.
Skylar eyes Ailia for a long moment, glancing to her hide and then to her, eyebrows coming down, "Examine him?" A bit protective of his charges, you could say that. Chin lifts as he queries, eyeing Ailia quite soundly, "Who are you?"
Ailia ohs, in her embarrassment she hadn't introduced herself. "'m Ailia." A hand is thrust out towards skylar. "Im a healer and Im gonna be a beasthealer when I get promoted although thats going to be ages from no so I though I'd just come down here and get a head start on the class but they dont look anything like the pictures." finally she takes a breath and looks from Skylar to Tarlin "Do they?"
Tarlin looks from Skylar to Ailia, then towards Hoofhearted's stall and wrinkles her nose. It'll be for/ever/ before they get out, now. She just shrugs at Ailia and then slips over to the shelf where her tack is kept and pulls it down, intent on, at least, getting a head start.
Skylar glances to Tarlin, quite a quizzical smile tracing the line of his lips, before he looks back to the Healer. "Pictures? Are you telling me you've never been around runners before?" *blink... Blinkblink* And she is gonna be a beasthealer? *cough* "Skylar, local stablehand... have you thought of talking to the local herders 'bout this?" Speaking of healing, he leans down and reclaims that salve from the floor, free hand reaching back to tug his drooping trous back up. "Pictures won't do it, miss."
Ailia nods and grins at Skylar. "The muscles look a bit strange with all the skin on them. Maybe I should just wait till we get the classes." She turns and pokes her tongue out at the runner she had been looking at, then her eyes drift over to Tarlin. "What're you doing? Are you going out?" She steps over towards the stall. "Can I help?"
Tarlin looks at Ailia. "Yeah, we're going out." She then glances at Skylar, her cheeks flushing. "And.. uh.. I dunno." She opens the door to her runner's stall and moves towards him with the saddle. She notes the anxious tilt to his ears and the dilation of his nostrils and places a hand on his shoulder. "Whassamatter, Mortis?" she asks the beast as he shies away from her, shifting his back feet. It's at that moment that she notices shuffling and snorting emitting from outside the stables.
Skylar brandishes his salve once more, showing it to Ailia, "To bring down swelling -got it from the Herders." Hand fists and thumb jerks out the door, not exactly in the direction where the Weyr' Herders are, but getting the idea across nonetheless. "My runner might need..." Wait. Head looks in the direction of the open stall. "You tried to examine HoofHearted?" A chuckle is quickly stifled. Well, the ol' boy got his fiber for the day, with a bite of that hide. Mouth opens, but he stops, glancing to Tarlin and her tack preperations already. "And just /who/ is cheating to beat the other one now?"
Ailia steps back a couple of paces from Mortis's stall. "Wasn't me. I didnt upset him. I never went near that one. Just him." she points at the open stall and HoofHearted before taking another step back towards Skylar, eyes still fixed on the upset runner as she asks. "Is he alright?"
Tarlin smiles sheepishly at Skylar, blushing as she lowers her gaze, but then she notes that other runners are beginning to stir in their stalls, nostrils dilated with a scent she can't pick up. She scowls. "D'ya think some wherries coulda gotten out of their pens?" she wonders, not quite sure what would upset them so much, except something big and... green? She starts towards the door and the crooning beast occluding the light.
Skylar eyebrow arches in Tarlin's direction. "Wherries?" Lips compress into a tight line as he glances in the direction of the exit, "I wouldn't imagine..." A fresh sigh causes his tunic to lift with the movement, before he moves over to set the jar of salve on the door to Hoof's stall.
Tarlin glances over her shoulder to see if Skylar is following. "kay, maybe not wherries. Looks like someone let their animals loose, though," she grumbles and then steps into the light, scowling.
Tarlin moves like the kidlet she wishes she were toward Outside the Weyr.
Outside the Weyr
Weathered and gray, the foreboding precipice of Telgar Weyr looms above, dwarfing those below as it reaches towards the sky in a never-ending wave of angled stone and earthen dust. The occasional wagon rolls by, along with a few travelers, who are quickly swallowed up by the shadowy entrance of a tunnel that leads inside.
The air is crisp with the coolness of pending winter. With the summer's heat gone and Rukbat's rays no longer shining down so intensely, Pern herself seems to be in quiet repose. It is a fall morning.
Tarlin is here.
The following dragons are here: Kataneth, Ailaeth, and Alabeth
From here you can go:
Road Tunnel Stables
Ailaeth scampers back from the door as it opens, nearly bapping her on the nose. A bugle escapes her throat as she steps on her tail. Ack! This wasn't supposed to happen!
Alabeth is right at the door. BOO! Hi Tarlin. Hi Skylar. *croon!* Ah! There's those people. She steps back a little bit, so there's room for them to get out a least. See? She was far enough away that she didn't get hit.
Tarlin glowers at the two greens, hands planted on he hips. "Don'tcha have anythin' better ta do than scare runners!" she scolds, standing her ground. Look, Skylar, look.. she can be big, bad and tough.
Skylar follows on Tarlin's heels, and then blinks quite exaggeratedly at the dragons. Eyes grow to be as big as marks. Wait. Wait just a moment here. "Ohhhhh, no!" he storms, hands waving from side to side. "These aren't your feeding pens." And narry a rider to be seen. Tarlin is glanced to, lips twisting.
Alabeth looks down at Tarlin, eyes whistling puzzledly. She looks then to the stable... then back to the girl... and gives another soft croon.
Ailaeth was just following Alabeth, ya see? And she promised something good to eat, if only they could figure out how to get them outside. But then Tarlin had to go bapping her on the nose with the door. The green sits, tail curling around her form as her nose wrinkles. That's gonna leave a mark, she just knows it!
Tarlin would bap her on the nose with more than just the door if she didn't fear another lonely vigil on someone's ledge. She does threaten with a balled fist, however. "Go on. Both 'a you! Go find yer riders an'.." Feeding pens? She hadn't thought about that. "..get them ta take ya to the feeding pens ifn' you's hungry!" See Tarlin glower. See Tarlin reprimand. See Tarlin... make a show for Skylar's sake?
Skylar looks from dragon to dragon, arms moving to cross before him. He stands just to the side to Tarlin, mouth open and more than ready to shoo those dragons with the rough side of his tongue. Only thing is, Tarlin is doing a smashing job of it herself. And so, he just stands and watches and hopes he isn't out of a job any time soon.
Ailaeth blinks at Tarlin, head lowering to look at her, one slow whirling eye posed just so.. Alabeth promised her a nice juicy young beastie though! Those old stringy ones in the pens just aren't worth the effort to mess her claws upon. A croon joins Alabeth's, in hopes of talking any of them into leading one of those delectable runners outside for them to snack on.
Alabeth croons a light duet with Ailaeth, snorting a little warm air across the two youths there. His gaze wanders from one to the other, then back over to the other green, as she lets the shade of her eyes pale confusedly.
Ailia has arrived.
Ailaeth seems to speak with Alabeth before her head turns back to the two youths, giving them a light whuffle in return, nosing Tarlin aside to sniff at Skylar before moving away again.
Tarlin plants the threatening fist back upon her hip and simply stares down both greens. She looks to Skylar for support and relaxes when she notes that he isn't the perfect picture of wrath she thought he'd be. She wrinkles her nose at the dragons and waves them away. "G'awn. Ye're scarin' the runners. They're for ridin', not eatin'."
Ailia shuffles out giving up on the muscle comparisons, she'll wait for the lessons. The scene outside stops her short though, or rather Tarlins words do. "So /thats/ why the runners were upset. It wasn't me." She smiles, relieved at that. "Would they really eat them?"
Skylar frowns. They are supposed to leave now, right? Right? Nose wrinkles as dragon breath wafts over him. Ohhh, those runners won't like that one bit. Man, this means he'll have to got take a bath. Stablehand takes a long step back, arms loosing from before him to extend out palms-forward. "You two really need to be leaving now. Really. I mean it." Sounds serious, doesn't he... how earnest would you feel if a couple of hungry dragons were nosing around you? "Shoo."
Slim head droops, Alabeth finally giving in to her dreaming and slipping off.
Eyes whirling fascinatedly, Alabeth raises her head and pays attention.
Ailaeth seems to ignore the two girls, head lowering to nose Skylar once more, a green tail snaking out to curl about one ankle. Hers. He's all hers! She croons back and forth happily to Alabeth.
Alabeth croons in return, eyes whirling proudly as she steps in to help claim. Help? Or to claim? Something like that. She's found something much more interesting than runners! Her stomach can wait.
Tarlin is ignored? The horror! She stares at Skylar as he gets nosed by the two greens. "Uh.. Skylar.. maybe they smell the runner on you?" she suggests and then looks to Ailia for confirmation.
Ailia tries to stifle a giggle and fails. "I dont think you can shoo dragons. They're bigger than you for a start." Some more giggles escape as she watches the greens get closer and nods to Tarlin, eyes sparkling as she asks Skylar with mock sincerity. "When'd you last visit the baths?"
Skylar moves to take another step back, only thing is that there is this tail about his ankle. Which roughly translates to a loss of balance. "Oif." Stablehand topples backward, landing on his pride with little ado, and frowning quite considerably to Ailaeth. Hand move behind to help prop himself up, "Quick! Cover the door." They aim to haul him to the side and burst in the stable nonetheless.
Ailaeth curls her tail tighter about the boy's ankle, claiming him for her own. That is, until Alabeth tries to lay claim on him too! With lightening fast quickness, she turns her head, hissing at the other green. He's /HERS/!! Runners? What runners? She only has interest in the boy now. Just ignore the slight gleam to the verdant hide.
Alabeth leans her head back away from Ailaeth. HEY! Just a suggestion. Just a suggestion. There's almost the equivilent of tears in those eyes... or at least a rather disturbed color. Eheh. The small green edges backward a step or two, to gain a little bit of space between herself and Ailaeth.
Cover the door. Right. Tarlin moves to close the door and then notes the rather possessive demeanor of the green. "Uh.. Skylar?" she begins, traveling back down towards the stablehand. "Have you gone ta look at the eggs?" she asks.
Ailia looks from door to skylar, to dragons then back round again, then looks blankly at Tarlin. "The eggs? Hasnt everyone."
Skylar gulps at the hiss. That is never good. NopeNope. From his place on the ground, he looks over his shoulder to Tarlin. Hand waving wildly, "Get back! Get back!" And then a blink in disbelief, "Eggs! Eggs?" Mutter, "She talks about eggs when her runner's legs is about to become toothpicks for the pair." Head shakes from side to side as he struggles to regain his feet once more. "What have eggs got to do with it? /Cover/ /the/ /door/!"
Ailaeth snorts lightly, moving to tower over Skylar, though her hissing stops and she offers a soft apologetic croon to smaller green. Those wonderful mood swings of being proddy, or at least pre-proddy. She'll share with Alabeth, see, he's got an extra leg that she can have!
Alabeth croons her own thanks to Ailaeth, wandering over to loop her tail around his waist. No, she's not trying to steal him. She just wants to make it more clear. It's obvious Skylar doesn't know what's going on. A look to Tarlin, then to Ailia, and she croons? at them. Hey you. Explain?
Tarlin ums, threading her fingers together in a fidgeting flutter as her spirits begin to sink. "Well.. I don't think they's interested in the runners." She looks at Ailaeth and then pats Alabeth on the muzzle. "Fact, I think you's gonna get a better look at the eggs. Front row seat.." She takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh, then shoots an accusing look at Alabeth. "Where're your /riders/?"
Ailia is confused, just plain confused, but she cant speak when Alabeth looks at her. Her eyes go wide and she squeaks. Coughing a little she tries again. "Front row? Like in the gall..." she breaks off and looks at Tarlin. "Do you mean on the sands?"
Skylar looks back to Tarlin, somehow managing to frown even more, enough to look quite stormy. "What... Ah-heheheh -Wait!" Yep, that would be a dragon tail tickling 'bout his waist. Hand moves down to try to tug it away. Having been completely at a loss before, this causes the boy all kinds of confuzzled moments. He glances back to the greens, eyebrows coming down to overshadow his eyes, keeping quiet now.
Alabeth suddenly gives a creeling tone. But... but.... le-sigh. Loosing her tail slowly from Skylar, she gives a look to Ailaeth, then to Skylar, then starts trudging off, where K'sh is apparently calling for her. Ruin _all_ her fun!
Alabeth strides, curious and interested, toward Weyr Tunnel.
Closing softly whirling eyes, Ailaeth tucks her head under a wing, dreaming of flowers...
Oarotu has arrived.
Tarlin ums again, still twisting her fingers together. "Yeah. Like.. on the sands. I'd hafta ask.." She eyes Ailaeth, trying to remember whose dragon it is. "..Re'a, though, 'cause I don't know." She assumes that Alabeth went to retrieve her lifemate and then sniffs. "I guess this means we won't be going on our ride."
Ailia's jaw drops. "But.. but.." she cant think of the but any more. "So they weren't hungry for food, just Skylar."
Skylar remains curiously quiet, allowing all of this to sink in. While before he was quite a fine red color, he seems to now have paled a few hues. Looking quite placid, even a bit relaxed. With unconscious ease, he finally manages to rise to his feet. Tarlin and Ailia's words are heard, but hardly registered. A few disjointed blinks, pregnant pause, and then he finds the words, low and soft, "They want me to be a candidate?"
Tarlin rolls a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "Yeah, I think that's what they's sayin' by grabbin' ya an' fightin over ya an' stuff." She sighs, hands once again planted on her hips while she scowls at the dragons. They /would/ have to spoil her moment.
Ailia half shrugs at Skylars question. "I guess so, or they just like your smell maybe. It being all runnery and stuff."
Oarotu walks into the area from the stables. He pauses, and raises a brow at the people and dragons.
Skylar's chin drops, gaze settling upon the ground. Uneasily, he brings his hands up, dragging them through his hair, to allow fingers to run roughshod through the tussled mess. "Shards..." Head lifts, turns to the side, bobbing his head to Ailia, "Maybe..." But Ohhhh, how he hopes it is the first. The rest is kept back, but a hasty glance to Tarlin, "Where /is/ her rider?"
Tarlin shrugs, still scowling. "How'm /I/ supposed ta know. I can't talk ta dragons," she retorts, more sharply than intended. She kicks at the soil beneath them and considers going back into the stables.
Ailia shrugs, shes just plain not sure. "I.. I dont know either. Sorry Skylar."
Anamyrth has arrived.
Skylar might possibly have been a bit more attentative to Tarlin's reactions, but... He looks away from her, spearing the dragon with quite the look, lips twisting to the side. This waiting... this sense of unsurety is killing him. "I just... I don't..."
X'ver slides down Anamyrth's aqua-rippled side to the ground.
Oarotu chuckles softly. "I imagine it has to be hard to guess what they want when their riders aren't around. Once, Alabeth wanted me to scritch her forepaw, and I didn't know what she wanted, and with little hints I finally got it."
X'ver slids off Anamyrth's side, looking vaguely annoyed and muttering under his breath. "... I don't /care/ Ana..." Little snips of his ramblings are loud enough to hear as he glances about. "Hullo," he offers the little gathering, a little more cheerfully than the comment's he's offered to his dragon.
Tarlin watches the blue's descent with an annoyed expression, hugging herself. "Well, I guess we'll find out," she says, noting X'ver's dismount. "Hi," she answers the bluerider, then points at the once Ailaeth-trapped Skylar. "Tell him what Ailaeth wants."
Oarotu looks up to the arriving dragon, and X'ver. "Good day." He greets, with a waves, before he looks back toward the others, and the other dragons. He chuckles at Tarlin.
And then another dragon approaches, only this one actually has a rider to go with -which is a very, very good thing. Skylar’s gaze flickers over to X'ver, letting Tarlin do the talking, as any female has the full right to do.
Ailia nodnods. "Please. Put us... erm, I mean him out of his misery." She’s ignoring all rules and just asking, she’s curious.
Ailia drifts off into a daydream.
X'ver gives Tarlin a blank look, before turning to give both Skylar and Ailaeth equally blank looks. "Tell him what Ailaeth wants? How do I know what Ailaeth wan --" He pauses, and turns to look at Anamyrth. "Oh. I see." What, exactly, he sees goes unsaid for a moment as he continues to stare at Skylar, nodding at Anamyrth in annoyment. "Fine. I get it. Shut up." And back to Skylar. "She just want's to Search you for Caeryth's clutch. If you wouldn't mind being a Candidate." See? No big thing.
Oarotu grins at Skylar. "Congrats." He says to the candidate boy, his icy eyes sparkling a little bit as he watches. "Must be quite an honor to stand for such a nice clutch." He adds, before he looks toward Skylar, to wait his answer.
Skylar doesn't mind at all. No, sir-ee. Not at all. He clucks his tonuge, eyes closing, and breath resuming. You know, when they say for a person not to hold their breath... he actually did it. Head turns and he focuses back upon X'ver. "Yes." Err. Wait. Elaborate, my boy. "Yes, I'd be happy to be a candidate." This wasn't exactly how he pictured it would happen, but it did, and that is all that matters at the moment.
Well, Tarlin minds. She wrinkles her nose and reaches out to snatch up Skylar's hand. "Well, then, come on. Since Re'a's not here, /some/one's gotta take ya to the barracks," she points out sourly. A nod of thanks is offered to X'ver. She's the one who understood the dragons and yet it was Skylar who was Searched--c'est la vie, right?
X'ver bobs his head, turning to give Anamyrth a long look. "See? It's fine. Now be quiet." Skylar recaptures X'ver's attention. "Right. Candidate." Eyeing Tarlin, he looks highly relieved that she's taken control of the situation. "Err, Congrats. Have fun." And with that, the bluerider returns to muttering at his dragon.
Skylar is abruptly tugged away, and allows himself to be. A few stumbling steps 'til he gets his feet going in the way he is tugged, voice calls out to X'ver. "Uhh. Thank you." *scrabble-stumble-swoosh*
Oarotu chuckles at Tarlin. "Are you sure you're the one that should take him?" He asks. Oarotu would certainly be honored to stand, as the others are, but being searched isn't a big thing to him. He glances around to the others. "What were you guys doing anyway before you were interrupted?" He asks.
Tarlin continues to tug, unrelenting in her annoyance. It's just not /fair/. Not only does she lose her friend *ahem* to the insanity of candidacy, but.. but.. she won't even dwell on it.
**Movements thru to the Candidate Barracks**
Candidates' Chamber
Nestled within the quaint walls of chipped stone lies a few scattered cots, each with a colorful quilt folded neatly at one end, and a solid-backed chair stationed near the other. An array of artwork graces the walls depicting the life of a dragonrider from the early, white-robed Candidancy days to the ultimate horror of fighting Thread, seemingly brought to life beneath the flickering light of various glowbaskets.
You see Chores List, Candidates' Board, a large basket, and Embroidery here.
Tarlin is here.
From here you can go:
Hallway
Tarlin drags Skylar into the candidate barracks and points out the mostly empty cots. "There ya go. You're here. Don't forget ta move your stuff and.. stuff.. an'.. uh.. you'll prolly hafta talk to someone about chores an' such."
Skylar wanders on into the room, rubbing his shoulder now and again. "Uhhh. Yeah." Eyebrows come down in a frown, "Wait. The runners. Do you think they'll keep me on there, besides the regular chores that..." He has seen the plight of the poor candidates often enough. He gets the gist.
Tarlin shrugs. "I dunno. You'd hafta talk to the person in charge, but, unless you're indispensable there, they'll prolly make you do other stuff, 'stead'." She sighs and flops onto a cot, not caring whether it belongs to someone else or not. "Congrats."
Skylar drops down onto a cot, a sort of boyish, and even a bit vacant, grin on his face, "Yeah..." Eyes flicker over to her, "Thank you." He still seems a bit lost, maybe even a touch stunned. Ah well.
