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Date Posted: 19:59:14 09/30/01 Sun
Author: S'sha and Kylith
Subject: ...

*The Weyrlady wanders in, her expression stonily upset. Kylith rumbles, and any rider could discern the equally upset note in the queen's brassy tone. S'sha stops and crouches, running her fingers through the fine sand. "It's cold, Kylith. Cold." Her voice is choked, shaky. The gold croons, trying to soothe her rider. I can wait. I'll make myself wait. The tall woman stares at the sand, rubbing a pinch between her fingers. "You can't, love. You know you can't." They'll blame you if I fly now. You are the youngest 'leader. S'sha nods slowly, her lips tight. "I know. This isn't the best time for a change in leadership, either..." The rider trails off, wondering if her beloved will correct her, perhaps Corath has a chance...? No. She cringes. With an abrupt motion, S'sha stands, brushes her hands off, and spins on her heel in the accustomed that's-final gesture that she's unconsciously perfected over the years. A small smile crosses her lips as Kylith adds, If I'm right, I'll be flying on your birthday. With a proud posture befitting a queen's rider, the Weyrlady strides out of the grounds to tell Ginny.*

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