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When no Weyrlings ran about, graduated or unhatched, paperwork still remained. There had to be things taken into account, important ones, and things that could often go overlooked if they failed in their diligence. Natai had a single sheath of paper in her arms, bound together with a metal hoop in the right corner, and more of them in the bag she had at her side. Truffle slept in one of the pockets, newly fed and bathed.

So many breeding crimsons and the remaining golds meant the lists of breedings and Flights, fertile or not, grew to exorberant amounts in the past turn and a half. Natai documented each Flight that occurred in the Weyr be the females green, crimson, or gold, all with the age, name, and winner of said Flight. Each breeding female Natai knew of had her own paperwork in painstaking detail to record frequency of their Rising, any eggs that came from them, and all the statistics that came with it. One day she'd make time to tell the Weyrlingmaster about the papers. .. or anyone, really.

A crimson Rose earlier in the day and so she'd pulled out the paperwork on the girl and her main document -- or it's copy, at least. One must always keep a copy of important things under lock and key.

"She's not had more than three eggs every other clutch before," Natai muttered to herself, eyes down on the crimson's personal papers. "Though last time was a clutch, only one was viable. Best prepare for her littles, just in case. And a blue, this time, so-- Shaff!"

Nothing in life prepared Natai for a basket of falling glows. The loud clatter and tumbling had her stumble back from the fallout. Paperwork fell with her, a yard away with Natai on the other side of the hallway, back to stone, and a panicked flit in her pack. The fat lizard shrieked and flailed and scrambled out with a yowl. His sharp claws brought her copy with him, ripping pages off and the entirety of Master Documentation Volume III to the ground. They flew everywhere.

"... Oh Truffle, no." Natai murmured, her eyes still wide from the now-rocking basket on the ground. She crouched slowly, long fingers reaching for the nearest scattering, brows pinched. "It's okay, baby."

Screeeeeee.

She tensed imperceptibly when she heard footsteps. Hearing A'nos softened the lines of her shoulders, bringing a slightly wider smile than many others would have. "Fortunately I can't blame Truffle or my own clumsiness. The basket fell and startled me, and startled Truffle."

The firelizard in question chirped pathetically an waddled towards Sanguine. He grabbed a paper in his jaws and, near to his comrade in fetching, scampered back to Natai when Sanguine headed to A'nos. Natai scritched his head, her eyes sweeping over the mess of paperwork she and A'nos worked to pick up. She tucked some of them into her bag, eyebrows pressed together.

"It looks as if my night will be spent putting them in order once Nedais is asleep. You're looking at turns worth of Flight documentation all over the hallway. Thank goodness for names?" Her polite smile turned a little crooked, a halfway amused glance being sent to the bronzerider. "Thank you. I appreciate your help."

"You're very right; it could have been in the middle of the lovely downpour. I'm glad these aren't the only copy, if that were the case." Natai chuckled, glancing up at him from under her lashes once the laugh faded to a wry smile.

"Yes, actually. Let me show you... Ah, here we go," Natai moved a little closer to the other rider, her long fingers smoothing out a slightly wrinkled page. She pressed it flat to the ground, tapping each part of the page while she talked about it. "This is one of Kibeth's pages, the crimson. She's a fighter so she only has one file for Flights. At the top is an F for Flights, a n-dash, her name, n-dash, and then the page number for that file. If it's the one for the actual breedings, it'll have a B rather than F. Not very inventive but it works. Thankfully."

She tucked the paper in question away, snagging a few more to shuffle together, straighten up. The question of her daughter brought another quick smile to her face with a shake of her head. "She's decided to be a bronzerider this week. I explained that unless she were a boy, which is entirely acceptable, that it isn't possible. Then offered to start using male pronouns. She promptly refused, said she would train a bronze wher to fly, and so now I am preparing for the inevitable science talk once she's nicked the appropriate scroll on wher physiology.

"How are you? Still enjoying making the Weyr a better place without wading through clamoring Candidates?" Her lips quirked again in time with her eyebrows.

"True, true. Some are still under the false pretense that I am a creative and inventive person. Thankfully there's no worry for these." She smiled down at the papers almost fondly, putting away the ones A'nos handed her. Natai moved away a smidge as well, cleaning up the papers as quickly as she could without tearing them or wrinkling too much. The knowledge that two of the more proper humans in the Weyr were on their knees picking up stray papers didn't escape her (or fail to amuse on some small level). "I'm still awaiting the day we have a Goldrider with a female weyrmate or a Bronzerider with a male one. If the world becomes stagnant, we need some way to confuse traditionalists. That was a... decade ago? With that brownrider, just after the uprising?"

Natai smiled at him again, reaching over to take the pages from A'nos and tucking them safely in her pack. Another spot clean and she moved to a new one, her nose wrinkled in the slightest. "As a Goldrider, I also consider it a blessing to no longer have my dragon be considered ends to a mean in a Flight outside of the Flight itself. It's good to have someone capable rather than someone lucky." Her tone and smile softened when she switched to discussing the children, more paper going into her side bag. "I am! The small classes are absolutely charming, they're like little newly born ovines. No large clutches to get lost in. The larger ones are fun, all enthusiasm and activities, but it's good to be able to have more one on one time.

"Although," She pointed a page at him, her eyebrows raised in a pointed fashion. "I do miss our brief time as cohorts, exchanging information on Candidates and the like. Sometimes I even sigh and say, 'if only' with fondness."

"You'd somehow make sense of all the chaos, A'nos, and they would thank you for it. A Weyr, a hoard of small humans, it's comparable." She smiled a little, eyes flicking back up to him before Truffle gnawed at her fingertips with paper-gummy teeth. Natai clicked her tongue at him, patted his head, and put the paper away. "Adults are more difficult to adjust but if anyone could do it, it'd be you. You are a much better diplomat than most, Goldriders included. Present company especially."

Self deprecation happened rarely out-loud with Natai and this time, with a slight smile and wry amusement in her tone. She imagined A'nos enjoyed compliments regardless and by making comments she knew to be true, no one else could say it to hurt her anymore. It made life easier and she remained happy. Natai scooped up some of the last of the papers and took the ones A'nos offered her, locking them safe in her bag. There were only a few left on the stone ground, easy to pluck up with even the laziest of fingers.

"That sounds good to me, oh Junior Weyrleader. My sister has sent me a new sort of tea I think you would like, if that would encourage you any." Her eyebrows arched as she said it, danced around her sister with talk of tea, and leaned over for the remaining few page to store, the ones out of A'nos' reach. His last words made her laugh, a short, surprised thing, though it quickly turned to a faint smile. "I'm glad to hear that my suspicions of your thoughts were correct. There is little merit in luck; I daresay those best fit to lead are those not prone to believe in luck."

She liked that A'nos didn't try to get more compliments or feign ignorance to his virtues; too many people refused to and became angry once you stopped complimenting them for that reason. "The moment we are so ignorant as to believe we have the system perfect is the moment it will begin to crumble. Perfection is a myth. An alluring, dangerous one." She stood as well, the last papers tucked away safely and a small smile still not entirely the fake one in place. "Be better than the generation before and all of that."

The smile quickly became tight in an effort to not laugh at his sparked interest in the teas. "I was headed back to my weyr to enjoy said teas and do a bit of this paperwork. If you don't mind me getting these back in order while we talk and drink, I certainly wouldn't mind the company. Later would mean a very curious weyrbrat underfoot and may keep you from any peace you may have in your life."

A'nos spoke ever so well as par he course and Natai smiled. Not just any smile but that quiet, slow genuine sort brought on by good company and appropriate words. "It won't surprise you to know just how few bronzeriders share your opinion, A'nos. Not quite so openly, at least. I have the pleasure of knowing exactly three, you included. Congratulations," Her lips curved more, amused now. "Tea and gingerbread are to be your reward.

"Because, yes, please, gingerbread sounds absolutely lovely." Natai took a moment to reattach the glowbasket to the wall as best as she could. It half turned, lopsided but able to remain situated even with a glow or two placed gingerly inside. She had her own motives for every good stride made for the people; at heart, Natai cared first for Nedais, Iachixth, and herself with close friends and then the people of the Weyr following. Everything she did protected her and her own. If it didn't... she bid her time, waited, and did her best to make it so they wouldn't be hurt by it.

While placing in a third glow, she glanced over her shoulder with another smile, eyebrows arched. "We've a few candlemarks before she's due to return. It should be plenty of time. Would you like to meet up at my weyr? I can have the tea nearly done by the time you arrive."