Rally the Troops, Plot: The Return

[Mellody]

//Hey. Tsalani wants to see your riders in the council room about an hour after lunch today. Make sure they get there,// Zulendath had announced that morning shortly after waking up, leaving little doubt in the minds of the dragons of the Weyr's wingleaders, seconds, and weyrlingmasters that she'd personally give them hell if their riders were late or - Faranth forbid - unaccountably absent. She had after all given them several hours warning. And that was just Tsalani being nice. She'd have called them just when she wanted them all there. The woman really was too kind to these people. Though she did have the sense to punish those that failed to take advantage of her kindness. She was still Zulendath's rider, after all.

At the appointed time, Tsalani was already within the council chambers, papers stacked neatly around her, seated in her stately chair looking just as stately in a structured black top with long puffed white sleeves, her tight fawn brown leggings hidden under the table. Other than a golden ring on one hand, she was without jewelry and her hair was tied back in a severe bun, attractively yes but it was clear that the Weyrwoman was not precisely at ease. She leaned her elbows on the table, her fingers interlocked just in front of her lips, and she stared down at the other end of the table without seeing it. Clearly Zulendath hadn't been exaggerating when she'd asked everyone to arrive. //Your riders either better be in that room or on their way,// Zulendath growled as one last warning, lounging in a menacing fashion on her ledge just over the entrance to the administrative center. Tsalani paid no attention as riders entered and took their seats, not even smiling to her favorites or scowling at her wingsecond. She was in a rarely serious mood today.

Finally she folded her hands together and laid them on the table, glancing around calmly as she calmly began the meeting. "No doubt you've all noticed that the Pass is approaching. The starsmiths have confirmed it. We can expect Thread to start falling at the end of this season and the beginning of the next," she dove right in, getting directly to the point of the meeting. And indeed, all of the papers before her were the starsmith's findings and forecasts. In case any of the riders wanted to check them. She'd already read them all several times. "I want to know the readiness of each wing and how our weyrlings are progressing. Gentlemen, ladies. Status report from all wings." Thus the weyrwoman sat back and looked around at her ranking riders, waiting for the first of them to speak up as she glared lightly at the whole group.

This post has been edited by Mellody on Aug 13 2012, 03:29 PM

[Keeley]

It wasn’t surprising that Zulendath’s first message found the wingleader of Screaming Winds in a bed that certainly wasn’t her own. And wearing very little clothing. She’d been cuddled up against some especially muscular male body quite contently when Mycenaeth’s voice had nudged her from her slumber. TameriMine, Zulendath’s wants to see you and the other wingleaders and such an hour or so after lunch.The female bronzerider had sighed, rolling onto her back and pushing tangled, white-blonde hair away from her face. She’d been having such a nice dream. About things much, much more appealing than a meeting with the rest of the wingleaders and the weyrwoman. And you needed to wake me this early to tell me that why? It isn’t even close to lunch. And I had such a nice pillow, too. She glanced at the male body beside her as she spoke, a slow smile growing on her lips. He’d been fun this one. A bluerider who didn’t know the meaning of the word shy. He’d made for a good night, but one night was all with this one. He’d gotten too touchy and chatty after; she didn’t need him getting attached. J’rie. Or J’rae. Something like that. A few of Tameri’s partners were allowed to become attached, but only because she was a bit attached to them too. And she didn’t need any more attachments.

She rolled back toward the warm body, intent on wrapping her own around it again, when Mycenaeth’s voice interrupt her again. It’s actually nearing that time now, MeriMine. I’ve let you sleep much longer than usual. You were up so very long last night doing paperwork, I thought you required the extra rest. But you have plenty of time to ready yourself for the meeting.The bronzerider had been up quite late, hidden away in her office with her usual piles of paperwork. She liked paperwork. She liked organization. If things weren’t organized, she got twitchy. And a twitchy Tameri turned into an angry Tameri, and an angry Tameri wasn’t good for anyone. Ever. Mycenaeth usually insisted that she go to bed at a semi-decent hour, but with the mood she’d been in the night before he’d let it go. She’d finally come out so late that it really should have been considered early and disappeared into the bluerider’s weyr. They’d made arrangements earlier. And he’d only been too pleased to wake up and entertain her for a bit longer. So when she’d actually gone to sleep? It had been dawn. Normally she would have gotten up on time. She always got up on time. When she hadn’t, Mycenaeth had taken it as a sign to let her sleep.

And she wasn’t overly pleased about that. Really, My? She threw the furs back with a sigh, glancing at the barely stirring rider beside her once more. Sometimes they got a kiss on the cheek when she left. Or a touch. But not this one. He was too interested anyway. And her morning-after kisses and touches were usually reserved for the boys and girls she actually cared about. Not the rest. She dressed quietly and slipped out of the room, padding with bare feet back to her own weyr. Mycenaeth was waiting there for her, though he looked too satisfied to have been in the weyr by himself the entire day. She didn’t really care what he’d been up to, though. She was more concerned with showing up on time for this meeting Tsalani had decided to have. And what was she going to wear? “You should have woken me earlier,” she told the bronze with a frown, stalking toward her wardrobe and throwing the doors open irritably. It was a full wardrobe—all different colors and patterns and types of clothing. Her pale hands flipped through the pieces inside efficiently, and she pulled out a pair of dark, fitted pants first. Pants were good. She was supposed to be a wingleader anyway, not some frilly hold girl. The skirts would wait for another day.

Calm down, Mine, you have plenty of time. Tameri glanced over at the reclining bronze, the expression in her eyes unkind. “Mycenaeth. We’ve discussed before that your perception of time is a bit different than that of the rest of Pern. We all can’t be creatures of leisure like you, my beautiful bronze.” Her words received a croon from the large dragon, and she smiled a little as she dove back into her clothing for a shirt. The one she chose was a silvery gray color, and made of light, comfortable material—it matched her eyes. That was the reason she owned it. It’s sleeves were fitted to her elbows, and then became wider and more flowing, with the slit down the front. It bared her forearms and hands nicely—showing skin, which was how she liked it. The neckline was low and wide—typical Tameri. The only jewelry she added was a single silvery necklace with a single, silver teardrop charm. Her hair stayed down.

It was some time later when she put her brush down and stopped in front of her mirror, grey eyes intent on her appearance. Zulendath’s just announced for you to be on your way. Tameri glanced over her shoulder at the striped dragon with a wry smile. “Plenty of time, eh? You should be lucky I’m not going to be late. I’m off. See you there.” The bronzerider blew a kiss to her dragon as they parted ways, and made her way as quickly as possible to the designated meeting place. By the time she showed up Mycenaeth had arrived already, perched near—but certainly not too near—Zulendath on the ledges above. The look on Tsalani’s face was not a happy one, and Tameri smartly kept her mouth shut as she took a seat. And when the meeting actually started, well, the bronzerider quickly adopted an expression much like the weyrwoman’s. Thread. It was a dreaded word—everyone dreaded it. Mycenaeth wasn’t pleased either—she could tell without even glancing up. “May I see those, Tsalani?” She asked, hand already held out for the starcharts. It wasn’t that she questioned the weyrwoman, but that was paperwork. Charts. She knew about papers and charts. That meant she needed to see it.

“As for my wing,” she added, tapping her nails on the table, “we’re in working order. I'm completely confident in their ability. Except for Liandra—one of my fireriders. She’s decided to keep her baby, so she’ll be flying with the queens for a while.” There was a hint of annoyance in Tameri’s voice, but at least she seemed satisfied with most of her wing. Satisfaction from Tameri meant a lot. Liandra, though . . . The wingleader had found herself pregnant a few times during her years, but she’d never kept the baby. Betweening was generally her method of dealing with that. She found it much more efficient. Besides, she just wasn’t meant to be a mother. She would mess it up horribly. And really, Liandra would mess it up too. She would be much more useful with her wing, rather than worrying about an unborn child. “Oh, and the new ones.” Now she seemed even more annoyed. Tameri had never been fond of the newest riders—at least, not until they had proven they could hold their own. “I haven’t gotten the chance to put them through their paces just yet, but you can believe I will. And soon.” And she would. The freshly graduated weyrlings who had been lucky enough to find themselves under Tameri’s leadership were about to find out just what that meant. If the weyrlingmasters had done their jobs, everything would be fine.

This post has been edited by Keeley on Aug 19 2012, 07:02 PM

[zulu]

Salmai, I swear, if you're late...

Saolsolath let the threat dangle in the air while Salmai trained in the autumn sun. She had--as was usual--foregone lunch in order to get the extra hour on the training grounds when most other people headed for the kitchens. Training alone was Salmai's preference. The fewer people there, the fewer people she was tempted to challenge. Sure, she might enjoy beating a man in wrestling, hand-to-hand combat or an archery bout, but the competition got tiring when no one really challenged her skill. There were a couple who came close, but Salmai hadn't seen them in a while. Perhaps they were training away from her so they could have a chance the next time. The thought made Salmai smile as she loosed another arrow into the target. A hundred meters away. The thunk sounded after Salmai saw the results. Another bulls-eye.

Saolsolath grunted in displeasure, watching her rider empty the quiver before striding to retrieve her ammo.

Salmai. Really. How many times must you shoot the same, unmoving target before you are satisfied it is dead? I assure you, it was not alive to begin with.

Salmai turned her head to glance at her dragon.

"What should this...meeting matter to me?" she challenged her gold, glancing up at the sky. It was almost time for the designated meeting to start. Salmai fully intended on skipping it. "From Tsalani's hints, she would rather I not hold the rank I do. Surprised she even let me into her Wing." The knots of Salmai's rank were currently stuffed into a training bag near 'Solath. They hindered her drawing arm when shooting.

It is your duty as my rider to attend, Salmai, Saolsolath explained, sounding like she had done so dozens of times before. Like it or not, the Weyr will look up to you because you are my rider. A goldrider. Their Junior Weyrwoman.


"I didn't choose them," Salmai growled as she stalked back to the firing line, sliding the arrows into her quiver after checking each for signs of wear or splintering. "They should know better than to look up to a heathen like me," she finished, voice laced with sarcasm. She'd heard that particular rumor before the drudge who spoke noticed Salmai's presence. 'Heathen' was one of the kinder phrases.

And if you would listen to me or to Zulendath's, you might change their minds. I chose you, Salmai. Does that count for nothing?

"I didn't ask to be chosen," Salmai bit out, but her mind was in conflict. For some reason, she felt bad for her words, felt guilt. She didn't like it. Why should she feel guilty for a fate she had no power to change? She couldn't just kill Saolsolath. Not even Salmai was that heartless. And she knew she had hurt 'Solath with her words. The gold drew her head up, a bit surprised by the edge in her rider's voice, of the sudden turmoil in the girl's mind.

No. Saolsolath paused. No, you did not. I chose you. Of anyone else, you were the right one. You were the strongest, the most resilient. Of all the girls there, I wanted you. The dragon spoke slowly, deliberately, wanting to take advantage of this rare moment of openness from her rider. Do you know why?

Salmai stopped and turned to face her dragon, leaning on her bow staff casually. But her shoulders were tense, and her eyes darkened and hardened in anger. "No," she said simply. "Enlighten me." Saolsolath ignored the jab.

Because you could be great. She said the words slowly, and the last word had layered meaning, far more than the word itself meant. With the nature of dragonspeech, Saolsolath conveyed greatness, glory, triumph, satisfaction, relief, joy, and contentment all into one word.

And Salmai just cocked her head. No words. Just a look.

Still. Within the next 15 minutes, Salmai walked through the back tunnels of the queens' weyrs, heading for the council chambers where Tsalani had designated the meeting. Saolsolath lounged on her own ledge, enjoying the afternoon sun. Though Salmai had refused a ride and had barely spoken a single word, she had still gone to the meeting. Saolsolath counted it a small victory.

Upon entering the room, however, even Salmai knew something was wrong when Tsalani didn't bother to glare at her. It was odd that Salmai had come to expect some form of disdain from her wingleader and Weyrwoman. The newly graduated goldrider took a seat, surprised she was one of the first to arrive. It didn't show in her distant expression, but for once her knots were in place instead of "forgotten" in her weyr. True, she was still attired in her exercise clothing--serviceable cotton shirt and wherhide pants--but her knots were there. She merely glanced at the bronzerider in attendance, an oddity Salmai had yet to figure out. She supposed if Saolsolath would pick someone like her, what was to keep a bronze from picking a woman? Salmai's knowledge of impression tendencies was obviously very incomplete. Even after Weyrling training.

However, Salmai ground her teeth slightly when said bronzerider--Tamera, Terri, something--reported a pregnant firerider. Salmai did understand the implications of that. Pregnant riders always rode with the queens. It meant that Salmai would actually be responsible for someone besides 'Solath's hide. She didn't like the prospect, especially considering the bronzerider's distaste of the woman in question. The "new ones" comment and tone earned Salmai's attention. Being one of those "new ones" herself...well. The bronzerider would have to get used to dealing with Salmai. The girl leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm ready," she told Tsalani simply. Being the only permanent member of Red Dawn--besides Tsalani--and its Wingsecond at that, Salmai might as well make her position clear. "Can't speak for Liandra." Whom Salmai had never met. From the sounds of things, though, this Liandra would be quite an annoyance. Not that anyone wouldn't be.

This post has been edited by zulu on Aug 13 2012, 07:32 PM

[Keeley]

Headaches were not a good thing. Unfortunately, they were also a very normal part of L'ren's life. He'd been having them since he was a child, and they'd only gotten worse with age. And today, unfortunately, was one of the of days. The only fortunate thing about it, really, was that it hadn't turned into a migraine yet. He was hoping it wouldn't. He walked into the meeting room just after Salmai arrived and took a seat as his brown settled on the ledges above. As the others, L'ren couldn't help noticing that Tsalani seemed especially serious today. She hadn't even smiled when he came in, and she didn't seem to be glaring at the younger goldrider quite as much as usual. That didn't bode well for this meeting, or for his headache. Why can't we ever have happy meetings? L'ren asked Rhamieleth, settling into his chair and glancing from one serious expression to another. If everything happened to be perfect, Mine, you would not need to hold the meetings in the first place. Though, I still think you should have let me come alone and slept. You know as well as I do that you'll only feel worse now. The brown's voice was mildly accusing, though more concerned than anything else.

Yes. I'm sure that would have gone over well. 'I have a headache, Lani, so Rhami's just going to fill in for me.' I'm pretty sure that's not how being a weyrlingmaster works. From his perch, Rhamieleth sighed in mild frustration, resettling himself more comfortably. He'd chosen a spot near the other dragons, but not so near that Zulendath could find a reason to be annoyed with him. She'd sounded so particularly cheerful when she'd given her instructions that the brown was more wary of her temper than usual. She looked quite menacing, and he'd just as well she kept all that for herself. When it gets worse, don't complain to me about it then. Not, of course, that he was serious. Rhamieleth would listen to L'ren complain with sympathy and crooning, just like he always did. Because L'ren was His. And he was especially protective of him, especially when he didn't feel well. And he certainly looked like he didn't feel well. It wasn't hard to tell that something was bothering the brownrider--he was starting to get just a tinge pale, and he hadn't made any teasing comments to their weyrwoman just yet. If he would at all.

He was on the verge of replying to his dragon when Tsalani started to speak. And what she said just made his head throb a little more. Thread would be starting. It had been confirmed. The usually easy-going rider frowned, which was a rarity for him. L'ren smiled always--even when there were problems. But between the impending migraine and the announcement that thread was going to start by the end of the season, he couldn't think of very many things to smile about. Especially considering he had a brand new weyrling class, and that another set of weyrlings had barely been assigned to their new wings. The junior weyrwoman was one of them, in fact. Though, he wasn't the least bit worried about Salmai. She would do fine. But there were some who worried him. Definitely. And then Tameri opened her mouth. L'ren bit back a sign, leaning his head back and staring up toward the dragons as the blond wingleader spoke. Pregnancies weren't as awful as she made them sound, and he didn't know Liandra, but surely she wasn't that bad. He didn't really get annoyed until she mentioned the "new ones." At that, he actually glared across the table at her. "They'll do fine, Tameri. A little patience would go a long way, you know. You forget so easily that you were new once as well.." That earned him a glare.

He ignored the bronzerider, glancing back at Tsalani. "The newest ones have barely started classes--I can't really tell you much about them yet. I think some of them are still a bit shaken by the deaths at the hatching, though, and some are still healing from injuries. The older group is being handled by Ilysiah right now, and last I checked they were progressing well--including Kazia and Chetzalkualoth. Just had their first flights. The graduates, as I said, should do fine after they get used to being full riders. Though a few extra drills wouldn't hurt." Tameri smirked. L'ren continued to ignore her, leaning back in his chair again. One hand came up to massage the area between his eyes as they closed against the light in the room. Yep, that headache was getting worse. But that was to be expected, considering the topic of the meeting. And Tameri's usual, difficult attitude concerning the weyrlings. Ignore her, L'renMine, Rhamieleth said, mind voice quiet so he wouldn't worsen his rider's head. Are you sure you should stay? Perhaps . . .

I'm fine, Rham. Really. It can't take that long.

Clearly, Rhamieleth didn't agree. Instead of arguing, he crooned softly down at his rider.

[Mellody]

Zulendath reclined leisurely on her ledge, but she didn't disguise the piercing glare she leveled on the dragons as they arrived, holding true to the vague threat she'd made earlier about making sure they were there. Tsalani wanted them all to be serious, and had given Zulendath license to be as hard-nosed as she liked. Which meant she was willing to snap at anyone she felt like snapping at, so they'd all best just tread carefully. Most of them appeared quickly enough, but she growled at some stragglers as they hurried in. And then she proceeded to ignore all the dragons around her, especially the randy bronzes determined to flirt with her.

Tsalani was equally unreachable, though everyone that came in seemed sufficiently intimidated by her serious expression to not say or do anything inappropriate to the moment. Thank Faranth the Weyr folk were used to her. And she didn't have to deal with stupid men assuming she was a silly woman. Woman yes. But she was also the leader of a militant organization on the verge of going to war. And shard it if she wasn't going to make it work. She had a head for business, and that's what this was. The business of fighting thread. She'd studied, and she knew what she was doing. Now to get all of these hooligans on the right track. Which would be so much easier of they weren't fighting like children. To a certain extent that was fine, but this was a serious topic. They could at least control themselves for a bit. Pretend to get along for her.

She handed over the charts without a word as Tameri asked for them, still listening for the report she'd asked for. Tameri answered first, as confident and self-assured as ever. And mentioning a pregnant rider. Oh yes. That little gem about leading the Queens' wing. She had to deal with all the pregnant women. Such a joy. And the complaints about the new weyrlings. Great. Predictably not very tactful, though, with one of those weyrlings sitting there at the table. And the weyrlingmasters in attendance. Salmai spoke up, which was something good at least. She was talking anyway. L'ren spoke up, defending the weyrlings, and Tsalani sighed as she watched the meeting dissolve into a catfight. Oh, children.

She leaned forward again, glaring around the table. "I expect the new riders to be integrated into the wing in record time. I want drills run five times a week, and I want the wings working together on Thread simulations," she announced in a hard voice, cutting through the other voices in the room. "I want watch dragons posted at all times to all our major Holds and Halls, and regular sweeps. I don't want to be surprised by a Fall." She turned to Salmai with a serious business expression in place. "We will deal with Liandra and any other female riders we get. And you-" she turned to L'ren and the other weyrlingmasters, "will focus on wing formations, flying skills, and flaming techniques as the weyrlings are able. Set them to sorting and bagging firstone, I want a full storage cavern ready for us." She paused after her instructions were given, looking around the room and hoping these riders had finally grasped the importance of the situation. "Do we have any other questions, comments, or ideas?" she asked in a milder voice, looking over the gathered riders warily.

[Ashling]

Serani hummed softly to herself, finishing up the latest project that she had been working on. Spinning the newly made chair, she checked to make sure that all of the woodworking was nothing short of spectacular. The chair hadn’t been made for anyone in particular, but even still, it was her work and Serani wouldn’t let anything be made without her seal of perfection. Nodding to herself, Serani fliped the chair over carefully ready to put her signature rose on it. The chair hadn’t taken her that long to make, but even still, she had worked through lunch to finish it. Lunch…Serani paused remembering that Sakitalith had mentioned some kind of meeting after lunch. What and when Serani had been too busy at the time to take too much notice of. Reaching out to her dragon, she spoke to Sakit. What were you saying about a meeting after lunch, Sakit love?

What event are you speaking of, Mine? Sakit’s distant voiced replied back to her. It wasn’t uncommon for the vein to not remember exactly what Serani was talking about, but even still Serani needed to know what this meeting was about, so she tried once more to retrieve the information.

This morning. You mentioned some meeting being held after lunch. Do you remember it at all, my love? Serani’s gentle voice reached Sakitalith once more. She knew that her dragon was not the most connected with reality, and in all honesty, it didn’t really bother Serani that much. Reality could be harsh, and if Serani ever got her way, Sakit wouldn’t have to endure much of the harshness that she knew existed.

Sakit’s voice entered Serani’s head almost immediately after the veinrider had finished speaking. The voice was clearer this time, and Serani knew that Sakit was once again coherent. Oh, yes Mine, I do remember. Zulendath is requesting a meeting in the council chambers an hour after lunch. Sakit paused for a moment, her voice taking on an amused tone. It’s already started.

Serani sighed to herself, shaking her head. It didn’t bother her too much that she was late. She hadn’t really known about the meeting, but even if she had, she probably would have stayed and finished her chair. With the amount of time that she had spent working on her craft, Serani found it hard to just leave a project unfinished. Running a finger over the carved rose, Serani stood, making her way back to her weyr. Even though she was already late, she needed to change out of her dusty work clothes into something more appropriate for a meeting. Throwing her wardrobe doors open, Serani flipped through the clothes, not pausing to look at the dragon that she knew was lazing behind her. “You know love, you can go ahead to the meeting. I will be there in a moment.” Serani’s voice flowed softly over to the vein. Even if, Sakit hadn’t reminded her about the meeting there was no way that Serani could be angry with her. Sakit was the only creature that she cared about.

I’ll wait. Sakit’s amused tone came back, which only caused Serani to shake her head once more. Picking out a black pair of pants, she went through her shirts once more, choosing a simple plum color. The sleeves went down the length of her arm and were split starting at her shoulders so they flared out when she walked. The fit was not tight, but rather comfortable, and Serani made sure that the cut was not too terrible low to draw attention to herself. Deeming herself good enough for the meeting, Serani hurried to the council chambers, leaving Sakit to meet her there. She knew that the vein wouldn’t leave her alone in a meeting, and when she arrived at the council chambers, she looked up to see Sakit already waiting for her. The dragon had taken her place with the others on the ledge, making sure to keep a slight distance from them.

Moving to take her seat, she looked around at the serious faces. Whatever this meeting was about, it was apparently direr than Serani originally imagined. Schooling her features to remain blank, Serani greeted the crowd of riders with a dry voice. “Please forgive my tardiness, time escaped me.” Glancing around the room, she took in the weyrwoman, jr. weyrwoman, the weyrling master, and finally her wingleader. Not bad company to be in if she enjoyed being in the company of others at all. Looking at Tameri, she gave the bronzerider a tight nod. The bronzerider hadn’t betrayed her yet, not to say that she wouldn’t. Taking her seat, she glanced at the papers wondering if they were the cause of this meeting. “If someone would be so kind as to inform me of what I’ve missed, I’ll try my best to catch up quickly.” Serani kept her tone hollow, not trusting the others not to lash out against her.

This post has been edited by Ashling on Aug 25 2012, 11:17 AM

[Keeley]

"Of course I haven't forgotten," Tameri told L'ren snappishly, glaring down at the charts in her hands. She could multi-task. Look over what was important and hassle her least favorite of the weyrlingmasters all at once. Not that she liked any of them. But she especially didn't like L'ren. The man was too nice. Too gentle. Too laid back. True, she'd never actually had a problem with any of the weyrlings he'd taught--except, of course, that they seemed to think their opinions actually mattered to her. And they didn't--at least, not unti they had managed to prove that they knew what they were doing. Tameri didn't ignore the opinions and thoughts of the riders in her wing that she considered competent. She was actually very good about including them--as long as they didn't do anything stupid. "If they can do what they're supposed to, then there will be no problem. If they can't, well." And she left it at that, glancing over as Salami started speaking.

There was careful consideration in the bronzerider's eyes as she watched the newly graduated goldrider, and her short, to the point words--never mind her confidence--brought a slow, satisfied smile to Tameri's lips. It wasn't a kind smile, not even a friendly one. Just satisfaction. This was good. Very good. At least she wasn't going to be the type to prattle on or hesitate. "I am so glad you aren't stupid," she drawled cheerfully to the junior weyrwoman, ignoring the martyred noise that Mycenaeth made above her. Mine, must you? She ignored that too, even as her bronze crooned an apology to Saolsolath. "And Linadra is never ready," the blonde woman added helpfully in response to Salmai's next statement, clearly pleased that she no longer had to deal with the the pregnant woman "I wish you both the best of luck with that particular headache." The evil glint in her eyes said that the comment had been made on purpose, in an effort to further torture the migraine-ridden weyrlingmster. It wasn't hard to tell he was in pain, after all.

She offered the reports back to Tsalani, nodding as the weyrwoman spoke again. "Consider it done already," Tameri responded, crossing her legs and sitting back in her seat. Wing drills five times a week sounded like an excellent plan to her--necessary with the new weyrlings joining in. Well, graduated weyrlings. Which made them riders. Though in Tameri's mind they were still weyrlings, at least until she was certain they could do what they were supposed to competently. Already, the wingleaders mind was planning ahead, going through the steps she would need to take to get everything rolling for her riders. Tomorrow morning, she thought. They would be starting then. That gave them plenty of time. "Oh, I don't think we'll be surprised," she added, smiling a little. Not after this meeting. Tsalani had made everything she wanted incredibly clear. And Tameri couldn't find anything to disagree with--meaning that the senior weyrwoman, as usual, had done her job well. "We'll be ready," she promised, looking mostly unperturbed. Yes, this thread was serious business. She knew that. But she also knew that her wing was ready to do their job. The new riders would learn, and quickly. Tameri would accept nothing else.

She was in the process of listening to other wingleaders speak up when the door opened and drew her gaze away. Ah, well, well. Her wingsecond had decided to show up after all. "Serani," she greeted, voice falsely bright. "I was beginning to think you'd died--and that would have just been troublesome. Especially just before threadfall. Thats' what we're talking about, by the way. Thread. Soon." She gestured to the reports on the table. Serani did know how to read, after all. Someone else was free to explain what was going on in more depth, Tsalani might, but Tameri was finished. Though she obviously wasn't pleased that her wingsecond had shown up late, she said nothing else. Tameri liked the veinrider, and assumed that her dragon had something to do with her lateness. And it didn't happen often, so this time she'd let it go and not throw a fit in front of the other wingleaders. They'd all seen her tempter before. Besides, the weyrwoman was there too. And Zulendath had been rather insistant earlier. In a moment of kindness, the bronzerider decided that whatever Tsalani said to her, if anything, would be enough.

She turned her attention back to the meeting, propping her head on a hand as she began listening to the others in the room again. Her wing she wasn't worried about. They would be fine. She knew Tsalani's would too, and D'nor's for sure. Now, to see about the others.

((L'ren sooooon <3))

[Thalia]

The lanky Weyrleader was one of the last to arrive, a fact, he was certain, neither Weyrwoman or Weyrqueen would be happy about. There wasn’t time to chat, though. D’nor vaulted off Kairosvenelth’s neck with the ease of old habit and left the great bronze to deal with his mate. He had another female waiting inside. The two flitters glided above his head. Kip swept down to alight on his shoulder, claws digging into the pad of leather that D’nor had long since had added to his riding jackets and several shirts. Firelizard claws were not the most pleasant of things. Pyrrha chittered angrily at the brown as he stole her perch. D’nor swatted a hand at the green. “Behave. Or else I’m chucking you out.” The green hissed at her owner and continued her flight above his head and into the low tunnel. Luckily, the tall man was only a step behind a smaller woman. D’nor recognized her from Temari’s wing, the wingsecond, he could only surmise, if she was also attending this meeting.

“Sorry for the delay, I had to see a man about a wherry.” A quick grin jumped across the Weyrleader’s mouth, before his face settled back into an expression of utmost concentration. Tsalani would not accept any sort of explanation, especially after Zulendath’s wide warning, so it wouldn’t bother to fumble with apologies and excuses. D’nor did not have to work long at his serious expression. Temari gave her wingsecond the expected curt catch-up. More importantly, she said the word “Threadfall”.


D’nor walked around the table to find a place at the Weyrwoman’s other side, extending a quiet hand for the charts. They’d all known it was coming. The interval was about as long as anyone could hope for, but D’nor was never of the mindset to wish for the impossible—that Thread would never return. There was too much routine, when one looked back into history. Thread always came back. And now it had.

[Ashling]

“How kind of you to be concerned.” Serani deadpanned, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at Tameri. She knew that the bronzerider wasn’t one for lateness so the sarcastic response wasn’t much of a surprise, and she wasn’t too concerned about the wingleader’s reaction to her tardiness any way. She could deal with the angry bronzerider later, but the mention of threadfall, now that was something to be a bit more concerned over. Tilting her head up towards Sakit, Serani did roll her eyes at the draconic smile adorning her dragon’s lips. Maybe you should kiss and make up. You wouldn’t want to die in threadfall without even so much a little kiss on your record. Sakit giggling voice entered her head, causing Serani to grimace in distain. Not now. Not ever. Serani retorted, turning her attention back to the reports that Tameri had pointed out.

Reaching forward to grab the charts, Serani barely glanced up as the weyrleader joined the table. She had thought that someone was following her in, but in all honesty, she hadn’t been bothered enough to glance back and see who it was. Foolish of her, but always watching her back was a bit tiring, and Serani was tired of being, well, tired. Shrugging off her criticizing thoughts, Serani flipped through the reports, her frown deepening. She knew that she and Sakit were prepared for threadfall, but the new weyrlings were another story. She didn’t want to have to look out for them as well as try to avoid getting killed. It was a hassle and not one that she wanted to deal with. “And I assume that you’ve discussed the weyrlings?” She didn’t bother looking up from the reports she was now intently studying. She was sure someone would answer her, and she really didn’t care enough to be bothered with who it was.

Glancing up at the outstretched hand of the weyrleader, Serani passed off the charts before leaning back in her seat. Tameri had been right. Thread was coming and coming soon which was never a pleasant thing to discuss. Crossing her arms, Serani glanced back up at Sakit. She didn’t want her dragon hurt in any way, but that almost was part of the job description. Being a rider wasn’t all rainbows and flowers all the time. Feeling Sakit brush softly against her mind, Serani let her arms fall and rest by her side. Don’t worry so much, Mine. We are ready, and we’ll teach these firelizards how real dragons fly. Smiling slightly at her dragon’s confidence, Serani turned to Tameri, schooling her face back into its neutral position. “We’re ready.”