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Date Posted: 00:37:36 08/20/05 Sat
Author: Talla & Mylanith, Stanza, Chapter, Verse
Subject: >~<

Normally, Talla is just proud enough that she might make a bit of an entrance; she's not the Weyrwoman, and she can't allow herself to get too arrogant, but she looks good tonight and knows it, and would have rather liked to have swept in before the Weyrleaders arrived and maybe turned a few heads. Unfortunately, she's not used to wearing dresses, especially ones as complicated as her current affair, and therefore she arrives half-way through T'bel's opening speech. At this point, all she can do is creep in quietly and stand at the back, applauding with the rest of the crowd when the Wingleaders and other ranking riders are named. She doesn't have more than a passing acquaintance with any of the mentioned riders, but as a junior weyrwoman, she's made a dedicated effort to at least know the name and dragon of every rider in the Weyr, and the reputations of all the bronzeriders and most of the brownriders as well. From what she does know of them, they seem to be a good lot. Of course they are, Talla reminds herself with a small smile. T'bel is supposed to be one of the best of them, and he would pick the ones who will do well in their positions. The only one she doesn't know much about is D'ctor, since he'd been presumed dead during her furious campaign to collect names and information about her fellow Weyrfolk. Of course, this Hatching brings a whole new batch of people and dragons to learn about. Talla is naturally thrilled to have new additions to the Weyr (even if Mylanith is grumbling about yet another junior queen, since Alestiath was more than bad enough in her opinion). At the same time, she tries so hard to learn the fact about everyone not so much because of a sense of responsibility, precisely, but because her memory is dreadful, she knows it's dreadful, and if she doesn't put an absolutely massive effort in, she'll end up not knowing anybody's name at all.

Well, I can make a start this evening, Talla decides. First things first, however, and now that T'bel is finished with the announcements, people have started gravitating towards the food. she joins them. People are polite to her, and even move out of her way a bit, but it still takes a while for the goldrider to fill up her plate and retreat to a safe table. Only now do her firelizards appear, gold Stanza emerging from between in midair and swooping elegantly down to perch on her shoulder, while brown Chapter and green Verse, both only half-grown, appear almost above her head and flutter awkwardly down towards the table to land on either side of her plate. Smiling at them, Talla scratches each tiny head in turn, then quickly waves a hand over her food to defend it from the two younglings. "No, no! That's for me, silly ones," she laughs. "You won't like it. See that bowl down there? The one full of meat scraps? That's for you. That's why they put those bowls out on the table." Obeying her shooing gestures, Chapter and Verse scurry over to the scrap-bowl and promptly begin gorging themselves on the bounty that the kitchens have provided. Stanza hesitates a moment, knowing perfectly well what to do but apparently unwilling to associate herself with the awkward lizardets who are displaying such bad table manners. Hunger wins out, and she wings over to join them, eating with far more delicacy and an air of palpable disdain for their sloppiness.

Her firelizards disposed of for the moment, and her stomach soothed by the first few bites of food, Talla begins to look around for familiar faces. Faces made familiar by close acquaintance, that is, not ones that she's struggled to memorize. Spotting Tr'ln at the next table over, she smiles and waves, then continues casting about for other friends. Two or three more catch her eye, but the men she wants most to see aren't there. /Mylanith,/ she begins delicately, knowing that her dragon is not in a mood to suffer demands, /please, could you contact Sengaloth and Jesaketh and ask them where their riders are?

The gold grumbles a bit, but she really doesn't have an excuse to refuse or complain. She's not sleeping right now, but wide awake, arranged at just the right angle to both make the most of the afternoon sunlight and appear quite attractive to anyone who might happen to glance over at her. Mylanith is outrageously vain, which probably says something about her rider (though Talla would prefer not to contemplate any of the possible messages), and being ignored in favor of a pack of awkward hatchlings does not sit well with her. All right, she agrees, and Talla, still tuned in closely to her dragon's thoughts, hears the mumbling in the back of her head that indicates her dragon conversing with others. It sounds a bit like hearing people talk in the next room over, just loudly enough that you know they're talking and just quietly enough that you can't make out the words or identify the voices. A moment later, the dragon addresses her rider again. You remember that they helped the Healer get those two injured girls off the Sands? They're still helping her. Jesaketh said that her Z'ni might not come to the Feast at all, and Sengaloth feels the same about D'rai.

/Thank you, my heart,/ Talla says, sending Mylanith the mental equivalent of a hug and an eyeridge-scratch. Then she hesitates. /Do they need any help?/

After another conversation, short enough that Talla thinks it's probably with Sengaloth rather than Jesaketh, her dragon replies. No, the Healer's got it all in hand now. Is there anything else? She sounds slightly annoyed. The gold has never liked serving as a message-relay service.

/That's all,/ Talla assures her, letting Mylanith feel her gratitude, love, and affection. Under the wave of emotion, the gold's annoyance subsides a bit, and she returns the feelings, her mind brushing Talla's a bit like a hand stroking the woman's hair. A slightly mushy expression remains on Talla's face for a moment before she forcibly shakes it off. Well, if her brothers aren't here, and Tr'ln is talking to that girl, and her other friends are across the room, she may as well get started on learning about the Weyr's newest dragonriders. Doing her best to look friendly, Talla smiles at a few people walking past with hatchlings at their heels, making a gesture that could be interpreted either as a wave or an invitation depending on whether they're interested in sitting with her. Hopefully, at least one of them will take it as the latter.

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