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Apparently Galliath's grumpiness did not extend to dealing with Ianquith. Hello, Lady. S'van could've rolled his eyes, but Galliath probably would've thrown a minor fit over it. He didn't feel like dealing with that just now. There really was no point in upsetting his dragon when he didn't have to. Who is your friend, Ianquith? There was a gentle tone to the Brown's thoughts that encouraged S'van slightly. If he was feeling well enough to fuss over Ianquith, he was doing much better than before.

"Hello," S'van said, giving Moira a little bow of his own. It was only polite, after all. He was somewhat warmed by the fact that O'asis had introduced him as his brother, and he rubbed the faint scar on his palm contemplatively. What exactly was the next move? "All right. Let's hear it, then." He sat down on a cot, leaving Moira and O'asis (and J'ri, but J'riar had had time to settled in if he wanted to) plenty of room to find a seat for themselves as well.

Greetings, Uktenath, Galliath said formally, gravely. For whatever reason, the Brown had decided that his rider's brother's dragon was to be treated with a certain dignity and respect. It was just as well, really. 'Van was glad that the two dragons had sorted out whatever hierarchy they had long since. It seemed that Gall was in no hurry to offend the growing Bronze.

Moira grinned as the dragon huffed into her hair, reaching up to scratch gently at the ridge just above the green's right eye. While her exposure to dragons was thus far fairly limited – as limited as it could be when one lived in a Weyr – Moira was finding them to be far more fascinating creatures than books and stories had ever managed to convey. Her attention turned to O'asis as he spoke, though her hand remained attentive to Ianquith.

She had no idea what the ILA was, but decided against interrupting to find out. At the moment it was not her place to speak, even to answer his question, considering the possibility that her assumptions about who Kyllae was might be wrong. Right now, she need only to listen, absorb what information she could, and try to figure out the best place for her to position herself in this little revolution. Rolling onto her side, Moira propped her head up on one hand and glanced to either of the accompanying men, waiting for their answers.

S'van bit his lip, worrying it a little as he thought over his friend's request. "Some of them want to kill her, like J'ri said. One of the fellows at the Hatching said he'd kill 'er with his bare hands. Some of them want her out of the Weyr. Figure she's better off, safer outside these walls." Contemplatively, he ran a hand through his hair, frowning slightly. "Others think that she didn't know any better, and that watching the Blue between was enough of a lesson for her. Mostly, though, it's death, or the usual sorts of threats you get with an angry mob. You know the type, Kas."

O'asis did indeed know the type. He knew the type better than most. "She's stirred them up, that's for sure. It's like... the entire Weyr's been united by loss. Plenty of folks forget that dragons don't always Impress, even when there's been a Touching." Granted, S'van share the opinion that it would've upped that little lad's chances of surviving if he'd been Touched at the right time. "Some are scared. That little Blue was mad, Kas. Just... plain out of his head." And that was the true tragedy. One egg that didn't hatch, that was sad.

Sad, but not unheard of. Hearing the little beastie's pitiful wails and shrieks of agony and terror had almost been too much for S'van, and certainly for Galliath. I am glad to meet your friend, Lady, Galliath said with aplomb, courteous and gallant to a fault. Of course he would be, his rider mused, the humor of the situation tugging at his lips slightly. "What exactly do you intend for us to do to further the cause?" Yes, O'asis was here with them to plan, but plans needed to start somewhere.

"You think this is really comparable to a sneeze, Kas?" That... that was almost laughable. The Brownrider gave his blood brother a sharp look, not forgetting for a moment who Kas had chosen over him, in the end. Not for a moment. "I'll give you that the Weyrleaders aren't doing much in the way of crowd control, and the Candidatemaster is about as useful as nothing just now... but nothing has happened, except Kyllae touching those eggs too early. It could happen, and maybe we should make it happen." Incite a riot? No. Get people talking, moving? Well... that they could work with.

While the others spoke, Moira listened. Doing so answered her questions as to who Kyllae was and gave her a decent idea of the intentions and purpose of the ILA. While she didn't understand the meaning of the acronym, it was easy to discern that the seemingly small group held splitting the Weyr as a primary directive, and overcrowding as the primary problem. It was something she could get behind without having to question whether or not their objectives were morally sound. Besides, the Weyr seemed to be a boiling pot into which Kyllae would be thrown if something wasn't done. Soon.

“Even if she is thrown out,” which Moira imagined would be the least of her possible punishments, “I wouldn't guarantee she'll make it back to her hold in one piece with the way people have been talking. Some people understand that it was just ignorance, but others assume that because she's a candidate she should know better. We need to first and foremost spread the notion that the overcrowding, the lack of room in classes, the lack of attention to the overabundance of candidates,” Moira ticked off these points on her fingers as she spoke, “These were the things that prompted the loss, not malice on Kyllae's part. We need to use their anger over the loss, but direct it away from Kyllae.”

Moira pushed herself up to a sitting position and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. She laced her fingers loosely together, focusing her gaze on each of them in turn. In the back of her mind was the notion that she might be getting in entirely over her head. It was an idea reinforced by O'asis' comment as to where they might attempt to direct the attention. If this went poorly she would by lucky if she wasn't thrown out of the Weyr, much less allowed to stand for Impression. Again, Moira question whether or not she was willing to pay that price if it came to it. The answer was the same, and so she continued.

“If we wait long enough for them to cool off a bit we can start hitting the food supply. If the Weyr can't even feed it's own, it will get people talking. The Weyr can't force an increased tithe just to support the needs of a single Weyr,. If they won't listen to the riders and the candidates, they will most certainly have to listen to the people. If we turn their focus on what the Weyr is doing wrong rather than what Kyllae did, then we're pointing a loaded weapon at the leadership.”

Wait a minute. Wait just a minute! S’van had caught something in O’asis’ tone and words that made him exceptionally suspicious. “Direct the attention for this at us?” He gave his brother a very, very suspicious look. “Look, Kas… just because you were in close with that girl doesn’t mean you’ve got to go and make a martyr of yourself,” he said with a frown. Shardit, O’asis ought to know better than that! “What, that’s your clever scheme? Making a target of yourself?” Well, he was not having any of that. Not for a moment.

S’van didn’t care how firm O’asis wanted to be. It was a fardling idiotic idea, and he wasn’t going to let his brother get away with it. “You think… that you can turn this on you because of her? Or because of the ILA?” His lips firmed into a thin, grim line, and he stared his friend down. Maybe the Brownrider didn’t tend to get pushy in general, and maybe it really could be said that he was gullible and easily led, but from this point he would not budge. He was not going to put up with this.

“Right, you tell me how directing that anger at ourselves and particularly at you will help to keep it from being uncontrollably violent. Are you counting on the fact that we’re” – and here he indicated himself, J’riar, and Kas—“ dragonriders to keep it in control? You think they won’t get teed off because of that? What exactly are you willing to risk here?” And what of Moira? She wasn’t Impressed. She was risking losing her chance to Impress. “I don’t like this, Kas. You’d better explain it in greater detail.”

Hmmn. The first part of Moira’s statement made sense to him. “That I agree with. I think we should get them focused on the whys behind the loss, rather than on Kyllae,” For all that he personally had no love of the girl in question, and no desire to see her continue to remain at the Weyr, he had no desire to see her harmed either. “Get them worked up over what we’re lacking. It’s… telling. It really is. The education that the Candidates ought to have to keep such incidents from being reoccurring… which cannot be provided as things stand now.”

“I think we ought to get them focused in part on the way things used to be, before the Weyr was overcrowded. Time was that Candidates were mentored by the riders who brought them in, along with whatever Candidatemaster they had. There are too many Candidates for that sort of system to be effective. Not for everyone, anyway.” He knew of at least one Candidate who had a mentor of that nature, but one or two was not enough to make up for the diminishing quality in the teachings the Candidates received overall.

I cannot come to you there, Galliath said mournfully. He missed his little Green friend, and Uktenath as well. Now fully grown, he had no way of visiting them in their dorm room. Will you come to see me soon, Lady? he inquired wistfully, eavesdropping on the conversation that his rider was wrapped up on. He noticed S’van’s anger before S’van did, and tried to reassure his that it would be all right. Moira, after all, meant no harm with her suggestions, and had no way of knowing how the last applied to him.

That was unacceptable, simply unacceptable. S’van was not willing to back a plan that meant damaging his precious food, or implicating Mirelle as unfit in her position as cook. “What, you want the Weyr to starve? How exactly do you think that we will be able to feed the mass of Candidates and Weyrfolk if we start hitting the food supply harder than it’s already being hit? I can’t back that. More, you’re crossing the line from trying to more or less peaceably bring about a change to actually harming people.”

He frowned slightly, looking between O’asis and Moira at that point, and shook his head. “We cannot easily replace the food if it’s diminished beyond what it already is, and what’s more… I work in the Kitchen.” That was a real conflict of interest, there. Taking in a deep breath, he turned to Kas and said,” I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but… I’ve been promoted, too. I’m a Wingsecond now. What that means is a whole lot of nothing, except that I really cannot condone taking drastic measures which will ultimately be harmful to the Weyr that I serve.”

It was an exceptionally difficult position to be in. He wanted to support his brother, and his friend, but… he also couldn’t simply ignore his own responsibilities. “Find something else, or count me out,” he said after a long pause. It was almost painful to say the words. He truly could not imagine leaving O’asis’ side like that, but if Kas was going to bring in new ideas of that nature… well, there was no help for it. There really wasn’t. “We’ve got to keep in mind that someday, perhaps soon, Thread will fall, and we’ve got to be at our strongest for it. Acting like that is stabbing ourselves in the back. It’ll do us no good in the long term, and very little in the short term.” And if they were going to pursue that course of action, he was out. “I agree with J’riar.”