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((Originally three seperate but consecutive posts. Posted together for convenience and lazyness. Copied from the main thread ninja ))
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T'bell slipped off his gloves as he slid down the broad greens' back. He boots hit the ground and he gave his dragon a pat on the shoulder. "Are you hungry, you evil beast?" He smiled as Liliath turned her swirling eyes at him.

I am. She flicked her tongue out at him. You look like a wherry in that. Her voice was laced with amusement, especially so at the look she recieved.

T'bell smacked her hide with his gloves and shrugged off the offending jacket Liliath had a habit of making fun of. "You look like a big green wherry." Her eyes whirled at him and she made the low sound that he knew as a laugh. Holders often thought it was a growl. "Go on then, before you waste away. The more you eat, the golder you get."

Liliath bumped her rider, nearly knocking him over, and happily recieved her eyeridge scratch before she ambled to the edge of her weyr and gracefully took flight. No doubt she'd have fun scaring the beasts before she picked one or two.

T'bell heaved a sigh and tossed the jacket over his shoulder. He favoured his green a backwards look and alf smile as she swooped down on the beasts, feeling a spurt of admiration, before he entered his weyr.

A few moments later found him taking the rough stone steps down to the kitchen. Aparently Liliath wasn't the only one hungry, and he had a craving for some klah to ward off the lingering chill of between and maybe a pie or two to satisfy his sweet tooth.

T'bell decended into the weyr and wiped his wet bangs from his forhead. They'd been flying a decent ways away, him and Liliath, and so appearing from between into the awful weather had been a bit of a surprise.

Fortunatly, Liliath didn't mind getting wet. His hair would get frizzy though.

He sighed and entered the kitchen. Not too long ago, when he first arrived, things were always busy and bustling in here. Then that disease hit and...everyone just died. He could remember those days. He'd just been out of training and as a wingrider, specifically a green, he was sent on errands left and right, no matter where the sun was in the sky, or if the moon was up instead. If you could see the dawn sisters or not, if he was needed he went out. It was hard to tell if a rider had been lost between, or if one had succembed to the illness...the dragons keened the same.

A shiver went down his back as he made himself some klah. The warm drink would do him good. The lower caverns were warmer, and he was mostly dry thanks to his jacket (Even if it did make him look like a wherry), but his hair was wet and that gave him the chills. Not to mention the entire atmosphere of the place. It seemed like people wanted so badly to be happy but they were eager to throw boots at anyone who tried to lighted the mood.

The harper in him told him people needed a distraction. Not to deny that the...the queen and the weyrwoman were gone, but to remind them that they were still here. Despite everything that happened the weyr had not succumb, and that was bloody cause for celebration.

The klah burnt his tongue as he drank it, but he half welcomed the heat. A few moments were psent searching around before he managed to find himself some cheese and bread. Neither were fresh, but that didn't bother him. Liliath was eating and that always made him peckish too.

After T'bell had eaten his full he poured himself another warm mug of klah and leaned his elbows against the table, sipping it absently.

I am done. I am tired, and I'm going to sleep. Came Liliath's matter-of-fact account of her actions. He could almost feel her shuffling her beding around to get comfortable. I will itch when I wake up.

He snorted into his klah. 'I will scratch you then, and oil you all over so I smell like dragon. Then I'll take a bath.'

Smelling like dragon is better than looking like a wherry. Liliath sent with a touch of amusement before she drifted off.

T'bell felt that odd disconnection of his mind and sighed. There was little to keep him distracted now. Distraction from what was going on would be welcome, most anyone in the weyr likely thought the same. "Shards.."

V'lyrn gave the flank of Basarith one last swipe with an oiling cloth, then stepped back to admire the beast he'd labored over for the past few hours, hoping to rid his bond of troublesome flaky hide that the bronze had no problem in complaining about, loudly mind you, during those few hours.

You did a good job, the dragon offered, his eyes gleaming green as he arched his neck up briefly to admire his tail, which was curled demurely about his hindlegs as he lie on his stone couch. ...would it be a bad time to tell you I'm hungry?

The Wingleader shot his dragon a look of amusement tinged exasperation and flopped back in the nearest chair, taking time to close the almost empty jar of hide oil. Let your oil dry before you dart off to harrass the herdbeast...so at least I can say that you -were- nice and oiled before you soil yourself in blood and demand another bath, countered the man in a slightly sarcastic tone. The dragon's eyes whirled a slight yellow at the edges.

I don't make that big of a mess...only when they fight hard, he said contritely before laying his head down on the "armrest" of his bed, angling his head so he could look at his rider.

V'lyrn chuckled some and rocked back in his chair and ran a hand through his reddish toned hair. A bit of dinner doesn't sound half bad, actually. Maybe there are some meatrolls in the kitch-...hey, mind your neck on that perch. I didn't dust it yet this morning.... He paused there and leaned forward in his seat. oh forget it. You're just as hard to keep clean as you were when you stumbled out of your egg. He grinned at his dragon affectionately.

You weren't all that clean either, from what I remember, the bronze shot back nonchalantly, which caught V'lyrn off guard. Mostly because this was very true...but dragon's didn't tend to have that great of a memory, so he could have just made that up as well. Feh...no matter.

I'm going to run to the kitchen for something to eat. You let your oil set before you go off, okay?

The dragon rumbled in response and made himself more comfortable on his bed before turning his attention towards a light nap.

V'lyrn sighed and slipped from his weyr, his footfalls echoing down the hallway as he headed for the kitchen, hoping that he would manage to catch someone for conversation as well as food for his grumbling stomach.

Tolara hadn't really expected the rider to talk to her. At most she expected was a polite nod in return, maybe a hello. The young weaver pulled the slate up sharply, cradling it's face against her chest. The loose braid of curly hair hid her ears, which were burning a bright red.

"No, no. You didn't disturb me at all...If I wanted to concentrate I wouldn't have come to the kitchens," she said wryly gesturing at the bustle around them, only stumbling on the first few words.

Tolara held the slate closer to herself. "As for the slate," she continued, "It's just a few doodles. Nothing much."

With a weary yawn, L'cian entered the kitchens, which welcomed him with an envelope of warmth and the scent of klah as soon as he entered. The kitchen was one of his favourite places especially when it was reasonably quiet as it was today. There were however a few others who had obviously had the same idea as him but he ignored them for now. He wasn't one for idle banter and especially with people he didn't know.

Standing in the entrance, grey eyes scanning the faces of the few who had gathered he did indeed recognise a couple of them. Quite sure that no one had taken notice of his entrance he made his way over to the table and checked the klah. It appeared as if it was a fresh brew, or fresh enough to suit him. He wasn't the fussy type when it came to food as long as it didn't smell too bad.

Pouring himself a mug of the warm drink he cradled it in his callused hands, bringing it up so that the steam would warm his face. Breathing in deeply he let out a contented sigh and made his way over to a stool which had been pushed clumsily to one side.

I thought you were hungry? Tallith interrupted his silent moment.
I will eat in due time, this is enough to satisfy me for now. Hearing no further complaint L'cian took a sip and leaned back, eyes scanning the room. The murmur of voices was strangely comforting to the rider as he sat in silence musing on problems that never seemed to dissapear.

Brushing her dark brown hair back behind her ear, Kirana scanned the room, her eyes shimmering a soft blue in the dim light of the glow baskets scattered about the kitchens. She pondered to herself as she spotted the people gathered in the one area of the Weyr that seemed to always be warm.

What had she been sent here to do again? Normally, Kirana never left her brother's side, but she guessed the Masterharper decided for once that it was better for her to have her own tasks to accomplish. If only she could remember what those tasks were....

Standing quite oblivious to everyone around her, Kirana looked rather out of place, her hips cocked to one side and off-putting the thick flax knit dress that surrounded her frame.

L'cian who had been in the middle of his klah, noticed yet another person enter the kitchen area, he had not expected too many people but he supposed every place in the Weyr was busy now-a-days. Maybe it was because everyone at Rias was beginning to accept the fact that their Weyrwoman was dead and that life did in fact continue.

Of course it continues. Came Tallith's reply. L'cian rolled his eyes and decided not to answer, his dragon was such a strange one sometimes.

This newcomer was also someone that he didn't know, but he wasn't at all surprised. He was reasonably new here himself and he never really liked to talk with others.

You talk to me.
Of course I do you silly beast. L'cian replied, his eyes unfocusing as he made the mental comment.
Then why do you not talk to others? The dragon was genuinely curious, and strangely L'cian couldn't answer.

Instead he got up from the chair and went to get a second mug of klah, hoping he would find the answer himself. He crossed the room quickly and set his mug down, reaching over and pouring in his second helping. His hands trembled very slightly as he did so.

You are upset? His dragon asked.
No, but I don't have any answers for you. L'cian replied truthfully, looking at the newly poured klah intently.

Tolara nodded politely to the two other people she hadn't noticed before. The rider looked vaugely familar but the girl was a completely new face for her. A flush covered her face. "Their not that good...."

A faint grin crossed her face. "Do you consider that jacket well made. Chances are I've worked on part of it." The weaver had quickly become impatient with how many riding jackets she had made. Between threadfall and general wear they were one of the 'practical' pieces she had learned to hate.

With a shrug Tolara tried to turn the subject from herself, "Then isn't it a good thing you Impressed? Life tends to work out well.."