| Kazra and Xylyth aquire a....Shrub? |
| 20/01/2002 Logfile from Harpers-Tale Valanth Rushes of pure azure stream calmly from elongated tail to petite muzzle, rippling delicately among the bumps and ridges that line the journey from this blue's neck, down along his back to the tip of his tail. Peace and serenity joyride until the frothy foams give way to the deep and chilling river rapids that form the aqua of his body as a whole. Swirling spheres mar each of his flanks, whirlpools warping his colours to new depths of tone, lilac laced into watery blues. But as the current softens back along his wings after the fierce excursion through the gauntlet, the tint lessens almost to a near film of ice, clear as the sky above and calm as a summer's day. Pure bright startling white glares cheerfully against the azure ripples of this young dragons neck. Each carefully placed stitch is alternated from light blue to dark blue mind you only you'll notice if looking closely for it almost blends with the dragons hide marring the lines between straps and body. Securely fastened into the light silverish blue buckles the straps are fitted snugly. Valanth is 10 months and 3 days old. He is 35 feet (11m) long, with a wingspan of 58 feet (19m). Valanth seems to be listening. Kazra Kazra stands tall at her final height of 5'8. Brown hair sweeps back off her face, but there is a new addition to it. Twined among the brown strads are quite a few colourful ribbons, white, red, blue, green and purple. Falling neatly down her back, they reach to her shoulders, giving Kazra's hair a new, colourful look. A small band of leather holds the ribbons and the hair back out of her sparkling blue eyes. Long legs taper upwards to a thin waist, broadening out only slightly to her upper body. Arms are slender and well formed, often gesticulating a point. Kazra has changed her outfit along with her name, now sporting a vivid orange short sleeved top and a pair of black trousers. Her feet are covered with ankle length black boots that look rather worn, though sometimes Kazra kicks them off to wander around barefooted. Kazra wears the orange and black knot of an Ista Weyr Weyrlings, with a thin ribbon of brown trailing through it to indicate her lifemate. She is awake and looks alert. You notice Kazra looking at you. Kazra is 24 Turns, 2 months, and 20 days old. Xylyth Rich shades of soil encompass this brown's towering and imposing form completely, intermingling to form fresh shades and fathoms of earthiness where they fuse. Pale coffee tones spill over an angular muzzle and face seemingly carved from the earth, so fine is their detail, before giving way to muddy colourings that diffuse over well built shoulders and stomach, sleek muscle visible beneath silky hide, finally darkening to almost midnight shades at sweeping wings. Woven into these depths of night, as if by unseen magic, tendrils of deepest aubergine thread their way across the tautly spread membrane, surfacing to form cryptic symbols of colour then disappearing from view once more in a ritualistic dance of hide and seek. Continuing the rhythmic flow of colours, cinnamon and chocolate mix and intermingle over powerful back legs, while hints of gold seep into the shade of a perfectly formed tail. Xylyth's first set of straps are at first apperance, simple well oiled leather, fitting in all the right places. But on closer inspection, Kazra looks to have gone strange with a needle, and purple designs twist and turn in mystical and random patterns. Running down the centre of each strap, above the purple stitching are three thin threads of black, blue and orange, almost invisible against the brown leather unless you look closely. Looks like Kazra's sewing skills are improving. Xylyth is 10 months and 4 days old. He is 46 feet (15m) long, with a wingspan of 76 feet (25m). Xylyth senses Kazra looking at him. Xylyth seems to be listening. Northeastern Bowl The northeastern arc of the Weyr Bowl seems somewhat isolated from the rest of the weyr - with necessity, for this is the training grounds for young riders and dragons, the Weyrlings. The main entrance to the weyrling barracks is just north of here, and the ground there is well-trampled and firm, as if many feet, both human and dragon, have wandered over it dozens of times a day. Further up in the northwest corner of the bowl is the waterfall, tumbling out of the Weyr face several dragonlengths above, misting the area in a rainbow glow. On the south side of the bowl lie the ashpits and firestone supplies for the entire Weyr. It is a summer before dawn. Gliding about are Bubbly, Overture, and Rorschach. Green Misumith, blue Lazeth, blue Valanth, green Suith, and brown Xylyth are here. You see Flamer Charging Unit here. Obvious exits: Barracks Pool Path Central Bowl Kazra is sitting on Xylyth's forepaw, scratching away merrily at the eyeridge closest to her with one hand, while the other hand is slathering oil on from a pot on her knee. Two jobs for the price of one. She is humming something to herself, just random notes, which suprisingly, isn't that much off key. Valanth wanders out of the barracks, glancing around to see if that healer chick that was sooo good at scritching decided to stay. Hmph...She's not here. Xylyth and Kaz get a warbled greeting and he wanders over near them, sprawling across the ground, sloooowly inching his head their way to see if he might get a scratch out of Kaz. Kazra turns at the warble of greeting, and waves her oily hand. "Hiya Valanth!" she greets cheefully, with Xylyth crooning his greeting to his blue sibling. He likes Valanth. Kazra returns to scratching Xylyth's ridge, but swopping hands so now the oil is coating the ridge. "You want scratched as well?" she asks the blue. Valanth picks his head up, parting his jaw in a draconic grin and bobbing his head as an affirmative. Ooh, yes he wants scratching. And he doesn't even have to sneak around to get it. How pleasant. Of course the brown likes Val. Everyone likes Val. he's the charming one. And Val likes everyone else, of course. Kazra obediantly starts to scratch at Valanth, but manages to continue to scratch Xylyth. "Scratching I don't mind, but if you want bathed, then no." Kazra is only ickle. Xylyth extends his head so that he can look comfortably at Valanth, which causes Kazra to have to swift position as well to keep rubbing both dragons. <Local> Xylyth senses that he brags in fronds of jade. <<Kazra gives the most excellant of scratches, does she not my brother?>> he asks, his pride and devotion to his rider coming through in the sound of the river over stones. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth chuckles with a burble of azure. << That she does. >> Of course, Kia's scratches are better, but Val won't mention that right now. Valanth croons a soft song as he is scritched, perfectly happy with the scratching. Bathing? Naw. Scratches work just fine. Give Kaz's fingers a work out. Scratch, two, three, four and scratch, two, three, four. Kazra pauses for a moment to dip her hands in the pot of oil. May as well oil at the same time. And work her fingers out she does. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Dunk, scratch, scratch, scratch. <Local> Xylyth senses that he bubbles in pale mint with pleasure. He needs no words to express his delight in Valanths comment. Valanth warbles in contentment as the oil is administered. Hey, this is great. Maybe he should go find a nice Branch for Kaz. Or maybe even a little Tree that she can have. in Val's opinion, everyone should have a Tree. But only a few get special Val-picked Trees. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth's mindvoice settles to a content and serene perriwinkle blue. << Do you think Kazra would like a Tree? There's a little one out on the other sideof the bowl that's about her size... >> <Local> Xylyth senses that Suith mmms with the lilt of the sea's waves. <<Tree? Those are those big shrubby things on wooden sticks right?>> Kazra grins as she continues to scratch, hands moving rhythmically as her mind starts to wander now with the fluidity of her motions. Ho hum. She could almost fall asleep here, except then she'd fall of Xylyth's leg and wouldn't that be painful? <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth nods with a small ripple of azure across perriwinkle river. <<Yup. Haven't you met Tree, Suith? >> If she hasn't, she simply must be introduced. <Local> Xylyth senses that he considers in a blush of sea green. <<I think that she would like that.>> he says thoughtfully to Valanth, before sending a blossom of sage to Suith in greeting. Valanth suddenly pops up from his position of being scratched, prancing towards the central bowl, waving with his tail for Kaz and Xylyth to follow. Let's go show kaz her new tree. Something to decorate her ledge with, when the weyrlings get their own weyrs. Kazra draws her hand back in startlement as Valanth suddenly ups himself. "Eh?" she asks, slightly bemused. "Did I scratch the wrong spot?" But then the comments from Xylyth seep though, and she lets out an aah of realisation before she slides down of Xylyth's leg. Follow the beckoning tail. Valanth ambles lanquidly toward the central bowl. You go to the Central Bowl. Central Bowl You stand in the center of the Ista Weyr bowl. You feel small as you crane your neck to look into the sky, at the towering five pinnacles of the Weyr rim, so tall they seem to reach into the clouds. The bowl floor slopes gently upward to the southeast, where various tunnels lead to the hatching grounds, ground weyrs, and living caverns. Across the bowl to the northeast are the weyrling barracks and training grounds. You can see the Weyr's artificial waterfall as it sheets down along the northern wall of the Bowl, its pool concealed at the base of the bowl by an ethereal cloud of mist. West, the entire wall of the bowl has been blown out by some long-distant eruption, and you can see clear out to the ocean from here. The view is breathtaking. It is a summer before dawn. Gliding about are Shinigami, Djau, Sanosuke, Silence, Fusuke, and Pyxis. Bronze Umeth and blue Valanth are here. Obvious exits: Northeastern Bowl Plateau Southeastern Bowl Xylyth paces easily, head high and tail dragging on the ground. in from the Northeastern Bowl. Valanth prances to the side of the bowl, opposite Tree to a small growing shrub - maybe a lilac? - of about a human's waist height. He noses the tree, rumbling, seemingly conversing with it. Finally he bobs his head to Kazra. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth thinks << His name is Shrub. He said he'd like to have you and Kazra as a keeper. >> Kazra wanders over to where the blue is, and kneels down beside the shrub, looking closely at it. "Very nice." she says, gently running her hands over its leaves. "Do you approve Xy?" And the brown wanders over as well, exhibiting the same caution as his rider. Careful sniffing later, he croons his approval. <Local> Xylyth senses that he agrees with a sparkle of colour the same shade of the plant. <<If..Shrub is willing, then Kazra agrees. You would be welcome to visit Shrub often.>> <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth beams in a waves tinged of aqua. << Oh yes, Shrub likes Kazra. He says he has purple flowers next spring... >> Valanth the Tree Talker! Suith glides ever-gracefully in from the Northeastern Bowl. Valanth whuffles at Shrub again then backs up again, simply beaming at his matchmaking, yes, Shrub and Kaz should get along fine. M'er slides from Suith's neck and lands gently on the ground. <Local> Xylyth senses that he oohs, and images of his wings flicker through the link. <<Purple is good. And Kazra likes it. What conditions does Shrub like?>> Well, they have to consider that when choosing a ledge. They wouldn't want Shrub to be unhappy now, would they? M'er A slightly chubby face has been exchanged for a more boldly defined jaw line, thinner lips, and even a larger hawk-like nose. Set by this rather pale face are two large orbs, both a brilliant azure in hue. Long lashes shadow protectively over, and rather bushy eyebrows are arched above. A final height has finally been reached, somewhere around a tall stance of six-foot-4-inches. Long limbs, long legs; he can be described as nothing more than gangling and awkward. Yet, the ever-present childishness reeks its infernal presense around him, always. Another change calls for another attire, yet again. Orange and black; his weyrling uniform is shown proudly, the colors of the Weyr. A simple orange tunic, a bit soiled in places, due to themany tasks of a day for his lifemate. His pants are as all other ones were: patched with dirt. No, he isn't the best at caring for his clothes. Boots are present, as well, cumbersome and adding awkwardness to his already gangling features. A simple knot -- though it is different from the stark white of the Candidate's knot. This knot is one of the Weyrling's; a simple loop consisting of orange and black. He is awake and looks alert. M'er is 18 Turns, 2 months, and 26 days old. Suith Silvery sprays shimmer up and down her form as webbing ripples that flash and wane only to swirl and eddy restlessly in the grip of a marine's stormy green. Siren's beguiling allure exists in the bathyl depths that darken her belly's curve, rich and fathomless to submerge her slim tail. Warm, turquoise oceans inundate her svelte form, drenching sails and spars before cascading with liquid grace over the low swell of her muscles, then to plash against the thalassic wave of her ridges. Sunset's gleam turns the shore's sand to gold along the bridge of her aquiline head, kissed with the horizon's rosy blush, and left to the wiles of sea's encroaching tide. The most simple form of straps: a Weyling's. Brown is the color of these straps; a neutral, boring walnut brown. Even the stiching acorss the straps is completely bland -- ebon traverses in and out of the thick material, the only pizzazz caused by uneven stitches. Suith is 10 months and 4 days old. She is 28 feet (9m) long, with a wingspan of 46 feet (15m). Suith seems to be listening. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth sparkles with sapphire. << Uhm...I'm not sure. I know he likes plenty of water... Why don't you try asking him? He'll probably answer. He seems to have taken a liking to you. >> M'er is here. Really. He's just lazy, and does not want to pose well. Suith perks at the other dragons, looking confuzed. Xylyth leans closer to Shrub, muzzle touching the leaves, and rumbles quietly at it. He shakes his head, then rumbles again. Kazra watches the peculiar behaviour of her dragon for a while, before she turns and notices that the party has gained another two members, one human, one draconic. "Hey M'er, Suith!" B'ane traverses solidly in from the Northeastern Bowl. Aboleoth arrives with a callous swagger in from the Northeastern Bowl. Suith creeps a bit closer, to examine Xylyth. Blink. She won't ask, though. M'er beams and waves, "Hey, all!" Damn, aren't his short poses lovely? Valanth warbles at M'er and Suith, looking them over for a moment, and considering. Hm...There are plenty of others that need Keepers... A glance goes to Xylyth, hoping that his Tree Talking is successful. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth thinks << Well, what did Shrub say? >> <Local> Xylyth senses that he considers. <<I think he said that he likes the sun. But I'm not sure about that. I'm not used to talking to trees.>> Xylyth twists his head and notices Suith watching him, before he goes back to looking, and talking with, Shrub. Kazra decides to leave her insane dragon to talk to plants, and wanders over to M'er. "How are you and Suith doing then?" she asks. <Local> Xylyth senses that Suith thinks << ...You talk to trees? >> <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth thinks << Sure, why not. I think...Maybe...Maybe Bush will like you, Suith. Would you like to meet 'im? >> Aboleoth spirals down for a landing. B'ane slides from Aboleoth's neck and lands gently on the ground. B'ane Upon your first glance, you notice a young man bordering 6'1. Hair, normally the color of fresh klah with scattered highlights of auburn and cast bronze, has been completely shaved off leaving his head naked and utterly bald. Below mynah eyebrows rest a pair of dark chocolate eyes, near black, that display more emotions than the rest of the face combined. Capturing stray light like miniature black holes, the oculars wield the presence of a fathomless abyss with no hope of an escape. Pearl-white teeth reside behind dark pink lips, in which the latter are usually formed into a neutral line. Dimples would appear upon the chance of a sporadic smile, their presence not usually known because of the subtlety of their appearance. A square jaw line--shaved smooth--and high cheek bones add a mien of character and definition as if they had been wrought from pure stone. An even bronze complexion, made more so by Ista's ever present sun, sheaths the layers of bone, sinew and muscle that fuse to form a robust physique. Upon close contact, an interesting medley of subtle musks take the origins of worn leather, earth and the tangy scent of a dragon. In all, it would be true to say a broody, orphic aureole follows his presence, cloaking the figure much like a protective cocoon. Plaits of cadmium fit comfortably around the torso, any trace of sleeves having been omitted utterly. Neither too tight, nor too loose, the material adheres to the rider's preference for material to 'breathe.' Trousers of ebon are sported to comply with the colors of Ista Weyr. Old boots grace the pieds, their exterior burnished to a coruscating sheen. Hidden under the folds of his jerkin is a sheathed knife, handy for whatever task its owner deems necessary. Obtained from a smith Hallmaster, the steel is of an excellent caliber, the edge evermore honed to a razored efficiency. A neat hoop of black and orange cords is accentuated by a lone thread of bronze: the attribute of an Istan weyrling. He is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute. B'ane is 18 Turns and 24 days old. Valanth simply beams at his brown clutchsib. Be the tree. He prances down the bowl a little ways, coming to a currently flowering Bush and looking back expectantly at Suith. Aboleoth Antiquity shades a narrow muzzle, copper and bronze intermingling between eyeridges and running down a sharp and almost hooked snout and mandible. A slender scar, faded to a distant ashen streak, embellishes one jaw hinge; administered while vaulting forth from the Egg. Eyeridges and facial bones seem to jut out a bit from the rest of his head, colored brass and mahogany and beaten around the circumference of his skull into flawless coverage and protection. Sharp spears of dark brown and greened copper rise from his neck and spine regions, covering his neckridges with an armor of sorts, and weapons of warfare. Strength ripples across his shoulders and down through his drilled limbs, golden veins divining individual muscle in a sea of bronze and brown. His thick hindquarters give way to a stout, yet sturdy, tail, lending him more than adequate leverage for balance. Wings flex in their own demeanor, speckles of sterling glisten within their transparency when flaunted and unfurled to a considerable length compared to the rest of his body. Blood red lashes coil around the dragons sinuous neck, their hue harmonizing well with the bronze's own skin of copper and aurum. Blazoned onto the whole length of the straps with lustrous silver and gold threads are myriads of symbols and emblems. The peculiar designs are composed of swirling bands, entwining loops, streaks and auspices of archaic and modern attributes. Buckles of damascened steel are burnished to a full luster and secure the straps firmly, their strength tried and true. Various hitches are evident to secure any totes as well a leather satchel filled with dried food and other provisions. The enigmatic nature of the riding straps are complex and intricate, the time and patience spent in their creation tremendous. Aboleoth is 10 months and 4 days old. He is 51 feet (17m) long, with a wingspan of 85 feet (28m). Aboleoth seems to be listening. Suith slides over to peer at Valanth a bit closer. THen she looks down at the bush. Hmm. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth thinks << This is Bush. >> Valanth whuffles at the Bush, warbling softly, glancing up at Suith then looking back down at Bush, bobbing his head. <Local> Xylyth senses that Suith thinks << ...Bush? He has a name, too? >> <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth thinks << He says he likes you and wouldn't mind having you as a Keeper. Try talking to him. See what he likes. He can go on your ledge when we get Weyrs. Kia said Tree can o on mine. And Shrub is going on Xylyth's. >> Xylyth looks briefly at Suith and Valanth chatting with Bush, before he goes back to investigating Shrub. Kazra waves at B'ane and Aboleoth as they arrive as well. "Hiya!" before she sends some worried looks at Xylyth. "How are we going to get Shrub up there anyway Xy? It'll be bad enough getting Gigi up." Random comments that probably should have been said mentally there so as not to confuse people. Suith inclines her neck to get a closer look at Bush. She finally cranes her neck and whuffles is carefully. Bush... Bush. Pretty Bush. M'er, can we keep him? I promise to feed him, and water him, and take him for walks! B'ane brushes any airborne particles that may diminish the tidiness of the uniform and is prepared for the onslaught of his pair of firelizards. They plummit from the sky region, a succession of thrills and notes of exitement also following their descent. "Good morning group," A hasty salute is thrown amidst there somewhere. "What's all this talk about gardening?" The mental images and speech from his flizards and dragon are hard to sort. Valanth warbles to Aboleoth, then positively sparkles at Suith. Very nice. Now she's gettin' the hang of it. Aboleoth marches closer to the ring of dragons and their shrubbery, curiosity prevailing. Hindclaws dig into the hard packed ground, as he investigates the nearest ornamental planting. A low growl, far from menacing, serves as his salutation. <Local> Xylyth senses that Valanth sends off a mysterious comment, a picture of a small prickly-ish bush flashed along with it. << Briar >> Xylyth decides that lying down to continue his conversation is preferable and does do, with Kazra moving over to sit on his tail. "This is a very strange hatching, don't you agree?" she says conversationally, looking at the horticuturally minded dragons. Suith is getting the hang of this, oh yes. Snuggles the bush? "Uhm..." M'er is lost. And lazy. Valanth warbles at Aboleoth, beckoning with his tail for him to follow, hardly walking a few feet before plopping down in front of Briar, snorting at it from a far enough distance so as not to get poked. Would you like Aboleoth? Yes? Okay, you can have Aboleoth, Briar. Aboleoth inhales the scent around the briar, the subject not smelling like much of anything. With a shifty look to his rider, he thinks that the bramble bush would look almost threatening on their ledge once they get their own weyr and that it would look rather attractive. To which B'ane replies that he wouldn't care. It's a nice tough looking plant that would signify they belong to Dhiammarath's and Tynabith's clutch. Central Bowl You stand in the center of the Ista Weyr bowl. You feel small as you crane your neck to look into the sky, at the towering five pinnacles of the Weyr rim, so tall they seem to reach into the clouds. The bowl floor slopes gently upward to the southeast, where various tunnels lead to the hatching grounds, ground weyrs, and living caverns. Across the bowl to the northeast are the weyrling barracks and training grounds. You can see the Weyr's artificial waterfall as it sheets down along the northern wall of the Bowl, its pool concealed at the base of the bowl by an ethereal cloud of mist. West, the entire wall of the bowl has been blown out by some long-distant eruption, and you can see clear out to the ocean from here. The view is breathtaking. It is a summer before dawn. Gliding about are Shinigami, Djau, Sanosuke, Silence, Fusuke, and Pyxis. Bronze Umeth, blue Valanth, brown Xylyth, green Suith, and bronze Aboleoth are here. M'er and B'ane are here. Obvious exits: Northeastern Bowl Plateau Southeastern Bowl Valanth leaves Abo to bonding with his Briar, prancing over to Tree, the largest of the lot, and curling his tail around it protectively. What will happen when the dragons discover the gardeners? Kazra sighs. "Looks like we've aquired outselves a plant to sit on the ledges of our weyrs. We'll need to find a gardener to talk to about proper plant care though." Idle musing from the Kazra there, while Xylyth is /still/ absorbed in talking to Shrub. M'er is lost, still. "Gardening? Well, I suppose my ledge to be would be lovely..." Suith beams happily down at Bush. Pwetty. Alot like her! Hmm... it isn't trying to hog the attention, is it? B'ane chaws over this Briar business, wondering if the Weyr gardener had them specifically planted there for a purpose. Would he miss some of his pupils? Of course not, they're probably wild anyway. "I hope it's not something in the water." He wouldn't want this strange fetish to spread. The Weyr flora would be devistated. Aboleoth leaves his newly required bush, confident that the Briar will survive on its own like it has been doing until he and his life mate are alloted their own weyr. No one will try to take the bramble without /his/ consent, so he decides he may want to fo flying again. Xylyth gives Shrub one final whuffle, before he turns away, and for the first time notices that Kazra is sitting on his tail. A slight twitch however, and his unsuspecting rider is falling onto the ground. "Thank you for that." Kazra says sarcastically to the brown, before rising and dusting herself off. The brown's snort can be clearly translated as "You're welcome." Kazra humphs to herself, but with a smile on her face, before paying attention to the others again. Quiet. Absorbed in their plants. This is very odd behavior for weyrlings, is it not? B'ane utilizes an arm to wipe his forehead, a few beads of sweat collecting. The past few days have been spent checking and rechecking riding straps as well as the usual oiling and other habitual tasks. His bronze implies that he's hungry and will be visiting the feeding pens. Come to think of it, his rider is not far from famished himself.. Message 11 of 11 on *Gossip (#627): Date: Sun Jan 20 10:55:02 2002 CST From: Anonymous :) To: *Gossip (#627), *Ista Weyr (#608), and *Weyrlings (#958) Subject: Bushes? Something strange is brewing in the weyrlings barracks of Ista. The dragons there have been seen in the bowl, looking closely at the bushes and trees there. And according to the gossip of the drudges, the weyrling riders say that their dragons are /talking/ to the bushes. No-one knows just what the bushes think of this whole thing, but the Shrubbery wing is starting to form. Valanth curls his tail around Tree, whuffling at a leaf and yawning. Suith noses Bush and engages in a lengthy conversation with it about males. Such silly things. M'er isn't silly, is he? Of course he is, that's why he's lifemated to a dragon who talks to bushes. :) M'er is sane. Really. Uh-/huh/. Riiiiiiiiight. Xylyth ,now that he has got rid of the Kazra on his tail, wraps it carefully around Shrub. Kazra decides that sitting on the ground is a good thing to do, and does. Valanth warbles to Tree about ledge decoration, asking it where he would like to be put, and if he would mind having a small Boulder up there with him. No? You don't mind? Okay, that's good. A boulder would be very pretty on the ledge. You click your heels three times. Xylyth's Curiosity Couch Material dyed a deep green hangs from hooks that are embedded in the wall, making the small alcove fairly dark, lit only by two shielded glows. Dominating the alcove is the couch for Xylyth, carved out of the stone and moulded to the contuors of all the previous draconic occupants. Beside the couch is a nest of cushions and pillows, covered in brightly coloured materials, where Kazra makes her bed. A sheet of black, blue and orange sewn together is folded neatly. Next to the nest of cushions is another cushion, this one looking rather tattered and covered in a selection of grey hairs, marking the place where Kazra's canine Gigi sleeps when she is not being looked after by one of the weyrbrats. A small chest takes up the rest of the spare space in this room, where Kazra stores her clothes and other items. The floor is usually visible, with the alcove overall being neat and tidy. It is a summer before dawn. Curled up on the chest is Emmy. You see Gigi here. Obvious exits: Out |