Welcome to Gaia! ::

Kazairl gave a short chuckle, as if her respect for his craft had touched on some old joke. “No, m’lady, there’s nothing interesting about the fishercraft. It’s dirty, smelly, dangerous, inglorious work that drains the body and spirit, and the best part of a fisher’s day is when they dock and go to fall asleep by the fire.” Though still weary from the early morning, his eyes glinted in their usual mirthful way, even though he was speaking of the work that had turned his father into a husk of a man.

Volya stayed tight and quiet against Cyrci’s neck as they crossed the beach, though as they came toward the dining hall the firelizard shifted anxiously. He could have gone Between at any point to a warmer place at any time of course, but the young woman’s hair made a reasonable buffer from the chill and he was trying to keep an eye on his person. As the warm air of the kitchens swept over them he gave a small chirrup and, after allowing Cyrci to give him a good scratch, started disentangling himself carefully from her hair. He came untangled without much trouble and leapt smoothly to Kazairl’s shoulder.

“Scamp,” Kazairl remarked as the blue tail wound loosely around his throat. Gesturing to an open section of bench, he led his new acquaintance to one of the laden tables and took a seat after her with quiet aplomb that suggested he would have pushed her seat in had there not instead been benches. “How long have you been at the weyr? Things have been strange as of late and I’m wondering if you were around when we lost our weyrleader.” It was a sensitive subject, and an unnerving, but it had been a strange sort of morning and Kazairl felt inexplicably relaxed after the walk at the break of dawn.