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Amelia blinked when her name was called and she immediately thought that someone meant to stop her. But... when it turned out that it was Uuni of all people, she did stop - just out of surprise. For a moment she regarded the blue rider with a look of confusion before she offered a weary smile, "Ah... I don't think anyone will hurt me. Are you sure you want to come? I'm going to go talk to Luci. D'astel fell ill just after he snagged Luci's wine glass. I wonder if she noticed."

She glanced around at the ruckus the quarantine was causing and sighed. She wouldn't deny that she wasn't nervous - she was - but when she could feel the sheer weight of concern of Sharath bearing on her, she had no choice but to remain calm. Amelia figured that was the only thing keeping her dragon from coming in... and if Sharath broke ranks, the others would follow and that was something she wasn't about to take the risk of the ensuing chaos and contamination - Amelia wasn't stupid, after all.

"Are you alright? Everyone here's so upset... And Sharath's about ready to come rescue me. She's convinced people are determined to poison me," she lifted a brow in an attempt at a joke, "Makereth sure left his mark on her." However, when she reached out to pat the other's shoulder, the slight shake of her hand the tenser-then-normal grip belied her nervousness.

Outside, Sharath had settled on a ledge near where Havocath had settled himself. An angry bronze and an angry gold alike would likely keep the area relatively clear. Though, for once, she didn't care if others joined them - her attention was focused solely on the entrance... on trying to get a glimpse of Hers.

Panic kept racing through her chest and her wings quivvered in the upset, tail lashing to and fro as she growled and murmured to herself. She didn't like being forcefully separate from Amelia! And that she'd been at the same table D'astel had been... well, she wasn't a stupid dragon and could realize proximity was a problem. Angry, cutting remarks about the stupidity of the Weyrwoman continually bombarded Amelia - Sharath didn't know what she could do. The goldrider had forbidden the gold from crashing in to the rescue so she was forced to be outside, alone, among many other dragons she wasn't even sure liked her presence.

It was awful. And nerve wracking and she just wanted Hers. The feast could burst into fire for all she cared, she just wanted Amelia.

So when Nachith swung by, she almost snapped at the smaller blue, a low rumbling warning telegraphing her turmoil. What do you want, blue? She was irritable, yes, but what dragon wasn't?

L'thor shrugged and set his cup down with a conscious effort; drinking more would mean he needed to piss sooner, and if he drank too much along with being nervous he might well be sick. That was the last thing he needed, not only because it was unpleasant, but because people might decide he must be ill and lynch him. "If you want to confirm it, search out a grey-haired rider or two to quiz," he suggested. "They'll know the truth of it... How about him," he gestured at an older brown rider, "I think his name's A'ram, he looks old enough to have been around when the plague first came here."

Not that he wanted R'ysan to wander off and leave him, having somebody to talk to helped, gave him something to focus on other than thinking about the fact that he might be trapped in a room with the plague. Shards. No. He wasn't ready to die. He had far too much life still to live. Let it be something else. Shards. Shells. Faranth. Let it be something other than the plague.


Raith rumbled in a reassuring manner and moved up beside the adolescent green, draping a wing over her as a human might put a comforting arm around a frightened friend. "Ours are tough," she said firmly. "Whatever it is, they will be alright. We just need to stay calm for now, it will be better when we truly know what's going on." Or would it? If they found it out was the plague... if they found out L'thor was already sick... No. No. He couldn't get sick. He had to be alright. He was tough. He'd be alright.

A'ras smiled at the unfinished sentence almost guessing what the next lines might have been and knew for a face after the delicate blush crossed Kallista's cheek. He might have agreed with Astarteth up to a point. The point where they fell to the furs but after that, relationships weren't his cup of Klah. There wasn't a woman out there that could capture his heart for the long haul. And as she continued he remained just as charming; listening to her every word as the world revolved around her for a brief moment. Women liked it when a man listened that much A'ras had learned over the course of time.

It sounded to him that Astarteth would have been happier as a gold. And that brought a small chuckle to his lips. "Well, I'm sure that she's just trying to look out for you in her own special way."

"Oh, I'd love to hear about your accomplishments in flight. I've noticed that in my wing, L'thor's Raith is a very talented dragon with maneuverability. It's really rather amazing to watch." He actually enjoyed seeing the flexibility of the smaller dragons and their speed. Sometimes he wondered what that sort of flight was like because comparatively Havocath was so different. His bronze boy was totally power and endurance. The dragon loved to fly for....hours and hours without coming down to the earth.

As she looked away, he knew her thoughts were wandering just a bit and well he didn't mind that at all. He enjoyed flirting and all the variety of reactions that it invoked from one girl to another. And when Kallista exclaimed outloud, he had to think if the woman and the dragon were to switch bodies just for a night, he'd have a good time in more ways than one.

He returned her grin with his own cat-like smile, "Oh yes, its definitely a challenge to live with them. " Right now, he imagined that Astarteth was saying the same thing about her rider and that amused him greatly. Oh he'd try to catch this one for a brief rendezvous if opportunity arose and he surely didn't mind that her own dragon was working her over behind the scenes.

"Mm...well I think they are attempting to contain the exposure and that's why they are keeping us together." he answered. So much for distractions; his mind returned to reality like a dragon snapping out of between. "Either way, the Weyrleader has been out and about the Weyr before this so I doubt that what they are doing is really helping at all."

His mind clicking into the realization that the Weyr would already be exposed and this quarantine was worthless. How many had already been in and out of the hall in the form of wait staff and cooks prior there was no way that keeping them in this hall was doing any good. Maybe he should speak with...K'ban.

Meanwhile, Havocath watched the green land then move in beside him. Usually, he might have found a lovely, well-formed green very distracting but with A'ras in trouble he felt no desire at the moment. His main concern was behind a thick wall of rock...and even if he wanted to get to him, he could barely fit the end of the his tail into that entry way. So he stared at the entrance...again.

Yes, I wish I was with my rider as well. Havocath answered as tension rippled across his broad shoulders and down his wings. It does seem rather...strange. Just the thought made him wish to know more about plagues and the method humans went through to handle them. It would have made the minutes go by a lot faster. I am sure that if it is the wrong thing to do, A'ras will speak up. He is not the type to sit around idle. That at least was one reliable thing about his rider; if the matter was urgent enough, it would keep the man from procrastinating.

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R'ysan nodded, "I might just do that L'thor." Overall, he really didn't like hanging around like victims waiting for the slaughter. He wasn't to certain if the leadership was acting with knowledge about what to do when a plague struck or just out of fear alone. Seriously, closing a group in like this bred nothing but fear and mistrust. Eventually someone would snap. When they did, he'd have to be ready with a reasonable exit strategy; something that wouldn't have Wingleader A through Z down throat.

"Yeah, he does look old enough to be that." he said as he glanced over at A'ram. "But, if he is a survivor of the plague, I am surprised he isn't saying words to stop the rest of the upset folks from getting all the wrong ideas." For a moment he decided he'd watch A'ram and see what the man did before approaching him. R'ysan always appraised people like this when he could - sizing them up like a predator. "Well, I'm sure we will get out of here L'thor. One way or another."

Regedth tucked herself under the adult greens wing feeling a little better already even if normally she only felt like she needed R'ysan for today this was good too. Yes, R'ysan is very tough...like wherry gristle! she answered with a fierce nod. I am sure yours is tough too...like...mm...umm....jerky! This definitely made her feel better as she leaned in for warmth. R'ysan was a b*****d and a survivor. He'd kill the plague before it killed him. A very unrealistic point of view but for a young dragon who didn't know much about the world yet, it seemed very logical to her.

She curled her lip in a grumbling retort but held off, finding that his opinion and manners were not really lacking. With a huff, she shifted and bid him to join her with a toss of her head, I want Mine too. It was all she said, but the streak of blue through the whirl of yellow worry belied her relief at his company. Others had gathered around the other dragons but none had sought her ought... it had been a minor complaint but it had not soothed her worry.

The surprise was ignored. It was all Uuni could do to keep her head, let alone having to deal with the babble of someone else. Yet, that babble was comforting in its own sense, despite the need to sift.

Not pertinant, didn't care, something about Makereth, oh -- there was something.

"Not dead yet," she answered with a grin and a wink, bumping her elbow into the girl's side but then looking over her shoulder to see if anyone else had fallen. It was probably only a matter of time. Had D'astel touched her last lesson? Was she infected now, too? Better not tell Amelia. . .

A few seconds later, the reason finally hit the wall of panic and shoved its way through. "Luci's probably got half the riders on her right now. I wouldn't talk to her unless you want your head snapped off by the force of her breath."

Wine! Amelia said something about wine. Something alcoholic would solve the trick. She grabbed Amelia's hand and dragged her in a different direction, away from any potential meetings with anymore leader sorts. Thank goodness she'd only Impressed to a blue.

"You don't drink, right? Because I might need all of it."

When Amelia came to a halt, there was not much Uuni could do save for look like a begging four year old wrenching on Amelia's arm. She decided to pass on that spectacle.

"There's only one kind of whine I like, Amelia, and, believe me, it doesn't come in a barrel." Or, at least, she hoped not. After a moment of debating women in barrels, she decided that, yes, it was as stupid as it had originally sounded.

"There's got to be something stronger here." And for a woman who normally avoided alcohol at all costs because it clouded her head, it was a worry sign as good as any.

But, something Amelia said caught her attention. D'astel collapsed after the wine? Amelia might have been the only person to notice that one. Then again, Uuni hadn't really been staring at people's faces the whole time, and she had been busy cracking horrible jokes with Makereth.

"Right, not the plague. Sure," Uuni answered, but there was still that paranoid doubt despite logic.

Having found there was nothing that would be strong enough to drink, she settled herself down at the table where Amelia had settled and looked back at the girl.

"Yes, I want to get back to Makereth." What kind of a shitty question was that? No, she wanted to stay here forever with Amelia. On the plus side, Sharath wasn't here blaming her for this.

Actually. . . "If Sharath comes after me for this, I'm going to pull a Janga on her." That was to say, punch her straight in the nose, which was a complete and utter lie, since Uuni had no desire for any sort of violence. But it felt like a funny thing to say. Either that, or Makereth was wearing off on her.

What other kind of wine was there? Amelia frowned at the comment, the pun and implication totally going over top of her head. Choosing to let it go, she plunked down in the chair and huffed a sigh. "I don't know what's strong or not... 'm not a drinker, remember? I could probably procure something strong after this, though, if you like... I do get some perks."

Mumbling mostly to herself, she'd rested her chin on her hand as she set her arm on the table. It was rude to do so, but she didn't really care at this point. At the other's sharp comment, she raised her hands, fingers spread wide in a 'whoa!' sort of gesture, "You'll have to beat me to it. But I don't think she will come after you. She's not stupid."

She fell quiet for a moment, gaze playing across the nervous crowd, picking out familiar faces, before she came back to Uuni, "How was your end of the gathering? I got stuck at the stuffy important people table with it's small talk about nothing in particular..." She knew she probably missed much of the political undercurrent - she wasn't so good with that bit yet - but the conversation had been dry... and difficult to follow with Sharath interrupting her thoughts and wanting to know what the other goldriders were saying.

All she knew was the Telgar Weyrwoman was... well, frosty. And the Telger Junior Weyrwoman just... rubbed her the wrong way. Luci was Luci and D'astel was D'astel... she still had the tendency to call them by their titles and use formal 'sir' and 'ma'am' as if speaking to much higher ranking individuals.

She sighed and puffed out her cheeks, "I hope D'astel's okay. There's going to be trouble if he's not... plague or not."

Sharath nodded at the blue's comment and shifted a bit closer, seeking comfort in a friendly presence. Nachith might be much smaller then her but that didn't mean they couldn't worry about Theirs together. That is good. And I agree... Ours will be safe. You are right. They must be safe. Her tail lashed from side to side as she tried to calm her self, though the rumble of upset was still clear in her mental speech, They should give us back Ours if they're safe though... it is taking too long.

A'ram moved on from the young woman he'd been talking to. Why was it always women who got hysterical? There was absolutely no need for any of these people to panic. They would either die or they wouldn't. In the case of the former the Weyr would experience a tremendous, devastating loss. If the latter, everyone would feel very silly in a few days if no one else collapsed. He supposed that was how long the quarantine would last.

Shaking his head at the witlessness that female riders represented, a thought of another sort occurred to A'ram that stopped him dead in his tracks. There was to be a hatching at Telgar in the near future. What sort of disasters might befall a clutch with no supervision at all? He knew the last clutch had been a disappointment for all sorts of reasons, but at least they were only greens, and if things had gone too badly wrong there wasn't a gold at stake. That was not a pleasant thought at all.

There is a gold on the sands at Telgar? Rath asked. He might have known this before, but he'd forgotten. That is alarming, but there are bronzes who will guard the clutch, and there is nothing to say Kaveth cannot return and do her duty by her clutch. She does her rider no good here.

Maybe, A'ram replied in a mental tone that indicated muttered scepticism. But would you leave me?

Never. I'm not a gold, though, with a clutch to mind. It is irresponsible of her to be here under those circumstances.