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There were some things that were more important than the injured feelings of Trine weyrfolk. One of those things was S'raid's pants. No, really. These were pants of exceeding consequence, because they protected him from the bitter cold of between, and surely not something that even the furious folk of Trine Weyr would begrudge him. It was just ironic that they had taken the opportunity to wear themselves out now of all times-- but a dragonrider could not go between when the seat of his pants was worn to a fine membrane that did not keep out the cold. There was even a particularly embarrassing hole, and he did not in the least feel like riding his skin raw.

No thank you. So, like any sensible rider would, he sought out a tanner immediately. As he walked, he could feel the glares settling between his shoulder blades. If he had been a younger rider, this might have bothered him. As it was, he was a man grown, well on his way to his third decade. He was not afraid of any ill-wisher who did not have the guts to so much as speak out against him. Soberly, he passed them by, and came to find the tanner he'd been looking for. What he found was a young woman, one who surely was not responsible for the leatherwork that was done in the Weyr.

"Excuse me, Miss," he said with his usual brand of politeness. "But do you know where I can find a tanner?" He had pants to replace. Pants of exceeding consequence. This young woman surely had no notion of pants, or wherhide, or leather. He was almost prepared to be met with a snappy rejoinder-- women in this Weyr seemed to think themselves above displaying manners to a Bronzerider, even one from a foreign Weyr. It was growing to be rather irritating, really. But then, he supposed that they had some cause for wariness, all things considered.

S'raid blinked. S'raid blinked again. Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been for the woman in question to announce that she was the tanner that he had been looking for. Pulling himself together, he made an effort to seem as though that had been his expectation the entire time. Smoothly, he cleared his throat and peered down at her. "Well then, you would be the person I am looking for," he informed her, his fingers tapping against his belt buckle.

"I am in need of a new pair of wherhide pants. Mine are too worn to be borne, and I would like to replace them." How ... distinctly odd. She was a woman and a tanner. How many of those could there really be? She seemed rather serious about it, too. This was not something that she was playing at. Certainly, that lay outside of his realm of understanding. But then again, Trine people were weird. They seemed to not know their places.

The doings of a lowly trader were hardly important to a man of S'raid's importance, however. ... No matter how inflated that sense of importance might be. He didn't acknowledge it, and as the girl responded appropriately, he decided that the politeness he had extended to her had not been wasted. Too often the folk of Trine did not appreciate such things. It was truly disheartening, really.

Didn't they know that their way would be smoothed by such things? For instance, this girl was going to get her commission. "I would like two pairs, actually. One in the usual colors, and one, hmm, dyed to resemble a Bronze dragon. How does that suit you? Is that doable?" He'd seen any number of colors before. "... Although, I suppose if there's a sort of leather that already resembles that hue, that will do nicely."

"Of course." He was always willing to wait for quality work, and she had said that he could expect such from her. S'raid had also heard as much from one of the Trine riders, before the ... unfortunate event. Now he anticipated that he would get nothing at all out of them but insults and cold glares. Childish of them, but to be expected. He felt a faint flicker of amusement that she wished to show him her work and her brother's, and not the work of other tanners. Did she make a bigger profit if she sold him her own leather? How very like a crafter, indeed. But he was willing to go along with her whims, so long as it netted him what he wanted.

He eyed her arms, taking in the sight of those varied colors. So, she was serious about her work, was she? It was odd to meet a female who was, and while the experience was unlike any he had ever had before, he did not dislike it. It was... new, and a bit strange, but what about Trine was not strange? If she was as serious as she seemed, then that could only be to the good, where his goods were concerned. He did not want some silly girl to ruin his pants because she was only playing at being a tanner. On the other hand, a skilled craftswoman would be rewarded for a job well done.

S'raid's eyes caught immediately upon the 'reject'. "That one. That one is perfect." It was Bronze, and the color was remarkably similar to Galvanth's hide. "The other can be any color you choose, for I trust the judgment of a good tanner." It was not flattering, truly. It was simply that he expected that she would have a better idea of what was fitting from her own wares than he. He'd had a very specific idea in mind for the one pair, but for the other... "Do you have more of that color? I would like a matching jacket, if you can manage it. I'll pay good marks for it." More than he would for the pants alone, naturally. For a nicely turned out jacket that would suit the pants, he would give her a substantial tip.

Already, he was assessing the worth of such a piece, taking out his pouch of marks, and weighing it in his hand. He wouldn't give her the whole, of course. But he knew how to get what he wanted, and what he wanted right now was more of that. "That would be quite striking, I think." The leather was perfect. His pants, his jacket would be perfect. Good. That was what he wanted, what he demanded in workmanship. He was rather surprised, and quite pleased that she had that color. Nothing could have been more suitable than something that so closely resembled his dragon's hide.

Now, this was more like it. This was the sort of toadying that he had come to expect as a Benden rider, though truly he saw Ofelia's behavior as simply the proper respect a crafter showed her patrons. Still, it was gratifying... and ingratiating. S'raid looked over the leather, tapping his fingers against his belt buckle. "Hmm, yes, I like this quite well. I think I should like a full set of riding gear in this, belt included." Down to the shoes, of course. "And straps for my Bronze, if such can be managed." Galvanth would surely preen in that gear, and he would be right to. Surely no Bronzerider in Pern would have such a striking set? A little smirk crossed his lips as he considered that, and then he glanced at the girl.

"How much for the lot of it? I would want as much gear as could be made." Obviously, a good mark would go into the effort it would take to make the garments, but he was will to pay what she desired. He wondered if it would be possible to discreetly pay her to keep the color unique. It would, of course, be necessary to see if she could replicate it-- after all, he might want replacements later on down the line. S'raid, what is it that you do? the Bronze asked curiously, feeling the stirring of excitement in his rider. I'm buying leather, S'raid sent back enigmatically. It didn't really explain nearly enough in Galvanth's opinion, as his next remark revealed.

I go to you, he informed S'raid loftily. Sometimes it was truly exasperating how much the Bronze wanted to be a part of his every day doings, but it was also endearing. "Hem. I hope that you don't mind the intrusion of my dragon. He's rather curious. He wants to see what has gotten me so excited." It was only polite to inform her, because her poor stall would be overrun otherwise. ... Well, it might seem that way, anyway. This new development had Galvanth very much excited, and very determined to stick his oversized snout in S'raid's business.

"Hmm?" ... Ah, she'd asked him a question, and he'd been off gathering wool. "I am S'raid, of Bronze Galvanth, of Benden." Wingleader, he added mentally. That was a new addition, and he very, very much approved of it. It was a bit informal, but as he had not reason to that rank before, he was happy to take advantage of it now. As he declared himself to the young woman, he felt rather than saw a great Bronze shadow behind him. "This is Galvanth. See, you great lug? That leather is just like your hide." Peering down, eyes whirling a curious green, the Bronze examined the leather very much as though he knew exactly what he was looking for. ... Which, S'raid knew, he did not. It is... very nice?