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Date Posted: 17:12:42 04/05/05 Tue
Author: Kain (and Finlawr is the drudge, kekeke)
Subject: ..

Kain reaches the caverns first, having been the first to silently leave. Inside, she hopes that they shall follow, and expects them to. Long Turns she'd known them. It is easy to read the people you know.

Even her steely face melts for a moment as she rounds the bend and gazes into the large, open space.. she recomposes herself and strides deeper into the belly of the Weyr, dark eye flitting nervously to each of the riders gathered.. and there are so many, so many strangers. Strangers in the place she once knew well. A shiver runs up the greenrider's spine and she plucks her way toward a large table that would sit the returning party plus those who cared to join them. The seat next to the head of said table is suddenly filled with dark woman. She hails a drudge with one gloved hand, and the young man scurries over, bobbing his coppercrowned head in a grateful bow. His eyes, green and bright as a leaf with the sun behind it, flick to the grubby knots on her right shoulder, and he almost questions her (having never seen her around before) but thinks better of it when he catches a glimpse of her rearranging her thick, belt-like eyepatch. In fact, he feels a good deal sicker than he had been this morning. 'Did you want something, ma'am?' he manages weakly. Kain gestures grandly with one arm, which jerks into motion and sweeps to motion to the whole table. At first the drudge (who by this moment feels sick and confused, as well as a little out of place) stares emptily, but soon gets the picture. 'Ah.. enough to feed lots of people? I see. How many exactly? I think the kitchens can handle that.. are we talking a hundred or ten?' He chuckles a little, and Kain quietly appreciates the mellow sound of his laughter. This is only betrayed by the slightest crinkling of her eyes, the tiny bit of pronounciation given to her crow's feet. She holds up both hands splayed, and he nods. 'Ten, aye.. klah, too?' The greenrider bobs her head once, stiff and scant. Then she makes a curious gesture with one hand - a circle, as if she were holding onto a bar, the opening perpandicular to the tabletop. She lets her hand slide down, and the circle widens. The drudge.. stares.

Kain lets a rasping noise fill the bottom of her throat, and in a low, grating river of speech she speaks but two words, 'Wine. Best.' He sniffs indignantly - had she just been toying with him? - but then laughs again.. it was pretty fun to play cherades. He bows a second time and trots toward the kitchens, calling out for food to be prepared.

The greenrider leans forward, elbows on the tabletop and fingertips coming together. She leans her gaunt head into the spiderweb of narrow, outstretched fingers, eye open and tracing patterns on the wooden surface.

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