Getting Ready -- The Rider Weyrs

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Date Posted: 20:47:06 06/16/05 Thu
Author: Wessae~Shrineth
Subject: Getting Ready

((OOC: Just for LG and Pup's reference, Wessae's arriving here after Marja and co. have already been here a few hours, so you guys can start another thread, this is just for getting pretty.))

Wessae scrambles from Shrineth's back and hurries into her weyr in a flurry of activity. She nods and inquires after Sahira, barely stopping to get a prognosis before rushing into her bathroom and flinging her filthy, sand encrusted clothes everywhere. The bath can't be ready soon enough, and she slips into it with a sigh that can probably be heard out on the open ocean. She doesn't have much time to relax, however for she's got to be punctual to the feast. As she scrubs her pile of hair into submissive cleanliness, she tries to go over the list of the lucky new weyrlings. Shrineth, snoozing as she waits, is no help.

Leaping from her bath into a towel, the Weyrwoman eyes the gown Gisella had sent over with some admiration. She had requested that the Headwoman assist her in picking something out for she hadn't the time to do it herself. She'd have to thank Gisella a thousand times for this gown, it was perfect. Slipping into it behind a changing screen she was thankful for now that there was company, she wriggles and smooths it. Her dark brown, impossibly curly hair hangs stubbornly at her waist, refusing the futile efforts she makes to tame it down.

Finding an appropriate, pretty headdress that requires no pulling back of the hair whatsoever, she affixes it onto her head and takes one last look. Smiling in appreciation, she heads out to her waiting dragon. Turning to address the gathering in her weyr, she gives them a slight smile. "If you'd like, I can have someone send you up food from the feast. It's always so excellent, and I'm sure it'd be appreciated. I will leave Buck here, and there are writing utensils on the desk, there." The brown flit, who had been busy inspecting said writing utensils, chirrs happily at mention of his name. "Send him whenever you're ready. Or if you need supplies. Someone will come. If you'll forgive me, I'm already late as is." With a final nod and smile, the Weyrwoman turns and runs to her dragon. In another heartbeat, they're away to the lower caverns, Shrineth preceding their wake with a merry call.

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