12th march 01

--

[A trip to annoy some Harpers is fairly successful.]

Klimth winks into ::between::!

You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and count...

Black...

Blacker...

Blackest...

High above Fort Hold's fireheights, you're afforded a view of not only the complex below, but also of the surrounding countryside from Fort Weyr to--in the east--the rolling hills and fields of the Hold and, just the tiniest of specks, Fort Sea Hold.

Miyoth soars down from above.

Orsylth soars down from above.

Miyoth spirals down to the landing area.

Nestled into the dark curve of cliffs, this vast slab of granite glitters white-veined charcoal for dragonlengths to either side, scraped and muddied by generations of landing talons. While it does not afford the sweeping view of the fireheights at the clifftop, it provides easier access to the Healer Hall should there be an emergency patient flown adragonback.

North, a path passes through the row of cotholds and mounts the hill to Fort Hold; opposite, a wide gap in the healers' wing leads to the Healer and Harper Halls, its lintel inscribed with runic crafters' symbols. East extends the road to the Fort Crossroads and the trading routes.

It is a winter afternoon. Bitter gusts wrack the snowy skies.

Orsylth spirals down from above.

Sissi decides, possibly about the weather, "Ugh."

Zephre swings down from her lifemate Miyoth's neck.

From Orsylth's neck, A'ria shivers and then gives a wave towards the others, "What a nice day, huh?" she yells out, as she scoots off of Orsylth's neck.

A'ria swings down from her lifemate Orsylth's neck.

"Horrid," Sissi agrees, pulling her scarf up over her nose and doing her best to disappear inside her riding jacket. This form of self-preservation doesn't seem to do much for her, however, so it's "We should go inside," - yes, obvious, but.

Zephre makes a face, in agreement for once. "Onward, then. Eck - I'm going to be soaked when this stuff melts," she observes, brushing snow from her sweater.

Sissi

Her chestnut-brown hair is untidily cut in a variety of lengths which average out around her jawline, undecided between frizzy and straight, but decidedly a mess; framing a thin face in which bright blue eyes tend to sparkle mischievously from under asymmetrical eyebrows and an old broken nose makes all her features look a tad awry. Only just edging on the tall side of average, her figure nevertheless reminds one of a beanpole - seemingly thin to the point of unhealthiness.

The assistant weyrlingmaster's tassels of black and brown are disguised, just about, by the twist of blue wrapped around them, the whole concoction clinging helplessly to her shoulder.

Closely tailored, both flying jacket and trousers are almost drainpipe tight, though the long jacket has to flare out a little around the hips for freedom of movement. The top few buttons are generally undone, although a woollen magenta scarf keeps her neck protected from the cold of :between:. Well worn, patches at elbow and knee are at least in the same chocolate brown hide as the rest and her Sirocco X, lopsidedly sewn on, just about covers a rip at the shoulder. And as ever, there's the same old much-mended, dirty and scuffed black boots on her feet.

Sissi is 26 Turns, 5 months, and 2 days old.

Zephre moves under the eastern archway and into the dining hall.

Pushing the door aside, you pass into redolent chaos.

Harper/Healer Dining Hall

Harper and Healer banners hang here, the blue and white and purple reflecting only erratically in the wide, polished stone tables and scarred benches. Masters' seats, clustered around an oval table near the primary hearth, boast cushions embroidered with each worthy's name; the journeymen's larger table rests near the secondary hearth, while the apprentices' oblong tables skirt the cooler, outer, distinctly noisier reaches.

By the kitchen's Dutch door, a waist-height counter offers oft-freshened klah and a small supply of meats, breads and cheeses for those who wish to snack between meals; west, broad doors give way to the hall proper.

Brianna, Agnes, Dinella, Byre, and Zephre are here.

A'ria emerges from the main hall.

Those people avoiding Bri's little workspace to do so...a clunk a splash, and a not-quite-muffled "Shards!"...dark ink beings it's drip, drip, drop to the floor. Bri's table is quickly vacated. Well, except for Bri. She just stands there.

Zephre steers clear of that area, helping herself to some klah like she belonged here. "Warmth at last," she murmurs, as the snow melts off of her sweater.

Sissi deigns to pull her scarf down enough to actually see where she's going - ah, that helps. She makes do with the teapot, mutterng something about, "Could do with a fire, too."

>> You sense that Dinella has glanced at you.

A'ria walks into the dining hall behind the other two riders, looking around, nose wrinkling at the sight of ink dripping to the floor. What a mess! She, too, walks over to grab a mug of warming klah, shivering slightly. After stirring in sweetener, she moves over to stand near the hearth, soaking up warmth..she hopes.

Dinella taking in the scene around her decides to retreat to the relative peace and quiet of the Woman's Dorm.

Dinella heads out into the main hall.

Byre blinks at Brianna for a few moments while pouring himself a klah, and takes note of the new arrivals with a polite nod. "You okay there, Brianna?"

Agnes eyes the three women from her place at the apprentice table, still eating placidly. She reads knots - they're riders. Her attention becomes rather fixed upon her plate.

Brianna is still standing and staring "Well..." Long pause "/I/ am, but I don't think the table or the floor or..." Sigh "My work was as lucky." She grabs the politely offered sand bucket (drudges are so /helpful/) and, sighing again, liberally anoints the floor.

Zephre returns Byre's nod, offering a greeting, "Craftsecond." She glances again toward the spilled ink, then away - not that she would have offered to help had Brianna needed any.

Byre chuckles wryly at Brianna's predicament - heartless jerk that he is - and content that nothing is horribly wrong, returns his attention to Zephre. "Weyrsecond," he responds, bobbing his head politely. "My duty to you. What brings you here today?"

Sissi flops down in a chair and concentrates on stopping shivering, keeping one eye on Brianna, in case the mess spreads. not that she'd mind that, she just wants to be watching, if it does.

Brianna, it appears, is not terribly adept at cleaning things up. The sand is applied, yes...but when she moves to sweep it up, it just uncrumbles and spreads little ink-sand blobs further out. Someone nearby giggles. Bri does Not Look Amused.

A'ria nods towards Byre, then pulls out a nearby chair, sitting carefully so that her klah doesn't spill. She sips contentedly at it, deciding to get warm before doing anything else. She turns her attention to the ink and the commotion as they get it cleaned up. A small grin appears as she hears the chuckle, but she tries to look important and /not/ amused, though that's a bit hard to do...

Zephre grins, since she's in that sort of mood. "We're on a fact-finding mission today, or that's the story we gave the Weyrleader," she shares with Byre, moving close enough that she needn't have the conversation with the entire room. "Winter is the season for getting to know our neighbors, after all."

Agnes glances up every once in a while, to watch Byre, who has the rank to talk to riders, but mostly she stares at her plate and listens, the attempt only slightly hampered by the chuckling masses of her table-mates, who are watching the more entertaining Brianna.

Sissi emerges from her scarf long enough to take a great gulp of tea and remark, apparently to Brianna, "Why don't you just leave it there? New decor for the Hall, or something?"

Brianna /had/ just adopted a charming behind-in-the-air peering-at-the-sand pose, but at that suggestion, her head pops up "Decor? Sand in the middle of the Dining Hall? Ink Laden Sand?" Bri considers this. Skeptically.

A'ria takes another drink of her fast-cooling klah and then reaches over to set it on the table nearest her. She chuckles at Briana's question, "Well, it /would/ be different, wouldn't it? And would save you some time, unless you just enjoy cleaning up..." she shrugs.

Sissi points out, "It's more interesting to look at than going round all the tables, seeing who's been carving whose names into them. Apart from that, it's all a bit boring in here, wouldn't you say?" Sissi considers the sand. Inky sand. "Some crafter's'd work for weeks to get just that mix of sand and ink, you know."

Brianna toes a little ball of inksand back into the pile and stares at it disdainfully "Well. A mixture of sand and ink? Like who?" She's genuinely curious. Really! Hey eyes slide Byre-wards "And don't you think our esteemed CraftSecond would have...reservations?"

Byre

Fully grown now, Byre is indeed a large specimen, a few hands taller than most men and broader than some sturdy trees. Yet his face, clean-shaven and smooth, lends him a boyish aspect. His jaw is pronounced and somewhat square, and his sharply angled eyebrows are prone to communicate volumes, but otherwise, his expression is nearly always impassive. His skin is light brown, and somewhat worn near his eyes and on his huge, work-hardened hands, but otherwise mostly smooth. His eyes, the color of loam, are nearly always calm.

Byre wears a white shirt with blue piping, and simple black pants.

Unusually, he wears the knot that marks him as the Harper Craftsecond.

Byre is 23 Turns, 8 months, and 12 days old.

Byre searches for a way to reply delicately to Brianna's suggestion. "I think that Headwoman Siri would have... reservations."

Brianna says, "But." Bri points out "You being here while the redecoration was decided on might but you into a bit of a spot, wouldn't it?"

Sissi is not to be put off. "Well then, sell the idea to some traders. And then they'll have to come clear it up if you talk them into it nicely."

Sissi, losing impetus, goes back to her tea.

A'ria grins, she's warm, full of klah, so fully awake now, "Well, it /might/ be interesting to see the different reactions you'd get..." she winks towards Brianna, looking at the mess, "Though it might just get trampled down and then the whole floor would be a mess..." she says thoughtfully.

Zephre offers her opinion, "If it got hot enough in here, that would make a great glass." That would make it smithcrafters, she supposes. "But I think it's more a health hazard otherwise," is her low-voiced comment afterward. Maybe she shouldn't be in the same room with it...

"It might just," Byre admits, staring down at the sand. "So, seeing as how I don't really want to be put in a spot, let's see what we can do about cleaning it up?"

Brianna growls to herself under her breath. Well, so much for leaving it there "Ok, Ok, I'm sweeping." She's sweeping, yes. And smearing and scattering. But, mess producing or mess clearing, it /is/ sweeping.

Zephre adds, in a louder voice, "Don't you have drudges to do that?"

A'ria wrinkles her nose up slightly, suggesting, "Umm..you might want to sweep it up into a pile instead of sweeping it all over the place..." she grins, looking over at Zephre, "I doubt it'd ever get /that/ hot in here...at least not with the weather like it is right now...I /hate/ Fort winters..." she shakes her head.

Sissi adds to Zeph's comment, "Or apprentices, at least?" She did a lot of clearing up long ago - or was that mess making?

Brianna gives A'ria a Look. Or, rather, would, if A'ria were a pile of inky messy sand currently under a table and surrounding areas "I /am/ trying to sweep it into a pile." Bri is very good at 'exaggerates, polite patience'. "Well.../they/ didn't make the mess, did they?"

Byre would say something about apprentices, and how it's nice to keep the apprentices busy, and occasionally that means chores which would normally be reserved for the drudges. Except that would sound pretty elitist, so he merely blinks at Zephre a few times and says, "I suppose we do," in a noncomittal kind of way.

A'ria raises an eyebrow, "Well...It looks as if you're sweeping it around rather than making a big pile of it..." But then, what does she know, right? She takes another drink of klah, making a face as it's already growing cool. "But that's what drudges are supposed to do, right? Clean up messes?" At least that's what they do at the weyr...

Sissi murmurs, "So? What's /that/ got to go with anything?" And then grins.

Agnes is an apprentice, but would rather not be kept busy by mopping up sandy ink messes, so concentrates on exuding that don't-notice-me aura.

Zephre shrugs, sipping her klah and wondering if the lack of apparent drudges means she has to stand up and refill her mug herself (the horror!). "Mm. I imagine they might be a bit better at it than crafters is all - it's a different sort of training."

Brianna uses the broom to prop up her elbow - not the use it's intended for, no - but a /very/ /convinient/ prop it is. "Well, normal messes, right? But it isn't teribly fair to make them get all ucky and inky because I was stupid and clumsey, is it?"

Sissi points out, "Share the wealth, though. They could /help/." She's making herself more comfortable in her chair as she speaks, "Sides. No such thing as a normal mess. I mean, that way they'd get too boring."

A'ria gives a snort of laughter, shaking her head slightly, "What? not fair to make drudges do their /job/?" she shrugs, "But if you /want/ to clean up your own mess, than I guess none of /us/ would stop you..." she glances over to Agnes and her group, yup, they've been spotted... "Hmm..or at least you could ask for help..."

Byre clears his throat once. "We appreciate Brianna's willingness to help out," he notes, hoping that another topic of conversation will present itself shortly. "Although, Brianna, if you want to grab some help, that would be fine."

Zephre can change topics on a quarter-mark. "Well, now that that's all settled, I was hoping to find out what's been going on here at the Hall. --Oh, and please give my regards to your wife, and condolences." Zeph does hear about /some/ things.

Oh, but isn't it so /interesting/ to talk about sand and ink and stuff? Bri shrugs, and plops into a seat. She'll clean...later. Right now, she's going to eavesdrop. The Dining Hall is a public place, only fair that she'd be allowed to listen.

Sissi mouths at Brianna, "Ask him, then." Her finger indicates Byre. Then she winks, and ostensibly goes back to her mug of tea.

A'ria giggles as she catches Sissi's comment, now /that/ would be interesting...Her attention, however, is drawn to Zephre and Byre. /She/ hasn't heard all the gossip...too busy with sweeps, of course!

Byre chuckles. "I just got finished cleaning up my sawdust in the workshop," he says. At least he practices what he preaches. Mostly. "And, regrettably, I'll need to run back there shortly. I don't suppose the weyr is interested in commissioning any instruments in the next few sevendays?"

Zephre considers that for a long moment, running through her wingmembers in her head for the musically-inclined. "Perhaps. I'll put the word out that you're taking them, some of my riders may be interested?"

Instruments...Hmmm...Nope, A'ria sure doesn't need any, though maybe her foster daughter Fenfin...Hmmm....She shrugs slightly, mostly to herself. A good question to ask, next time she catches her fosterdaughter in her weyr...She takes up her mug and /nearly/ takes a sip of the klah, and then remembers..it's /cold/. Instead, she sets the mug back on the table, and just sits...

Byre nods in reply. "Most of them will be farmed out to journeymen, except for some unusual requests. Just let me know." His klah now drained, he puts his mug aside and bobs his head politely. "Please let us know if there's anything we can do for you while you're visiting," he adds, glancing at each of the riders in turn.

"Don't worry, I'm sure we will," Zeph replies, with some humor. "But we won't distract anyone unduly from their work."

Sissi looks a trifle disappointed, but finishes her tea anyway. "If anyone needs duly distractng, on the other hand, we can probably oblige."

A'ria raises an eyebrow slightly, distract? She thought that's why they were there, but she won't speak up and say so...She grins at Sissi's statement.

[Fort Weyr] Zephre laughs. Give ourselves away to the PTBs? Never! :P

Byre cracks a bit of a grin there, and nods. "Very good. I'll be in the workshop if anyone needs me - good evening." And with that, he heads out into the main hall, en route to the workshop.

Byre heads out into the main hall.

Brianna didn't glean a whole lot from /that/. Her foot shifts and...encounters a clean floor. "Um." the Cleaning Fairies, apparently. "Oh, well. I /tried/."

Sissi shakes her head at Brianna, "You don't need to try. Maybe," she amends, "You need to look like you're trying, that ought to be more than enough, shouldn't it?"

A'ria sighs, rising from her seat and heading over, with her mug, to freshen up the cold klah. She stirs it up and then, on the way to her seat again, she passes by Agnes, "Maybe these people here could help you with it..." she gestures towards Agnes and her table companions. "They look like they could use something to do." Helpful, isn't she?

Brianna lifts an eyebrow "Yes...but it also means things like failing marks..." But that's the teacher in her speaking. the eyebrow quirks still more. She even manages to look amused "You skipped out of lessons a lot, didn't you?"

Zephre leans on the table, hands clasped over her navel, making the occasion face as she listens to the others, now that her information source has left.

Agnes shakes her head at A'ria, finally piping up to say, "It's not my rotation on dining hall chores."

Sissi looks a trifle worried, don't say they still /remember/ her round here? "I wasn't any good at them anyway, so there wasn't much point," she notes, "And 'sides, they were Healers. " Which apparently is sufficient.

Brianna spends lots and lots of her time teaching. This may or may not be apparent...but she gives off enough hints. She nods a few times, a shoulder lifting "You just sound like eighty percent of apprentices, see. And some Journeyman...come to think of it." Smirk. Oh, yes, Bri can smirk, too.

A'ria laughs at Agnes' defense, "Well, I guess that lets you off the hook then, huh? Unless you're drafted, of course." she shrugs, then continues on her way until she is sitting down again, near the warm fire, with warm klah...all good things!

Sissi nods, oh-so-seriously. "Indeed. Being an apprentice came very easily to me." And of course this naturally cancelled out doing any work, an ethos she's somehow never grown out of. "Some people," she points out, "Have to work at it."

Brianna's brows go up yet again. She's entirely too find of eyebrow expressions "Oh? Like who?" And Bri looks expectantly at Sissi, a picture of guiless curiosity.

Brianna

Flyaway gold tresses wrap themselves around Bri's head in a tangle of bright braids, the mass seemingly too heavy for such a thin person. Though slightly aged and even more slightly weathered, she retains an air of innocence that occasionally seems at odds with her remarks. Thin, arching brows perch atop emerald eyes, a thin, befreckled nose situated just beneath the two. Very pale skin gives her banal features some uniqueness, while full lips and large, darkly lashed eyes add beauty and contrast to the contours of her face.

Displayed on her shoulder for all to see is the knot of an Journeyman Harper.

Brianna is swathed in soft yellow, a summery sort of color. The dress falls heavily to her ankles, unadorned, the waist fastened by a wide girdle of candy-colored orange. Long and loose, the sleeves close snugly about her wrists, while the neck scoops sedately to her collarbone.

Brianna is 34 Turns and 11 days old.

"Anyone who got promoted, for a start," Sissi decides, flippantly. "I mean, you'd only get /stopped/ being an apprentice if you were no good at it, wouldn't you?" And this, perhaps worryingly, is perfect logic to Sissi.

A'ria raises an eyebrow slightly at Sissi's 'logic', and then grins, settling back to listen to this conversation. There's lots of things she could find interesting here...

Zephre gets distracted conversing with an elderly healer about something in low tones.

Brianna shrugs. The logic escapes her, and her sense of humor. The brow lifts again "Um. I suppose so. But...you went on to...better and /brighter/ things, right?" Yes, that's it. Brighter things.

Sissi quips, "Well, he's a lot brighter after I've washed him, certainly, my dragon," then chuckles. "I was lucky." Whether that's a true acknowledgement, or just a thinly veiled insult, isn't really clear.

A'ria chuckles at Sissi's comment, "/After/ you've washed him, though...and that can be a job, I'm sure." she looks around, more for something to rest her attention on than just to look around. She seems just a bit bored, maybe...

Brianna wasn't, of course. Lucky, that is. "Well, I like my life." Mostly. But who really likes ever single facet of their life? Very few, in Bri's opinion.

Sissi points out, to Bri, "I never said you didn't. but if you can be fulfilled with sand and ink, then I guess you must be lucky, too."

Brianna's expresion doesn't lend itself well to adjectives. "Fufilled by sand? And ink?" She's now wondering exactly what sort of thought process Sissi employs "Noooot.ooreally, no. No fufillment there for me, none at all."

Sissi points out, "then what were you doing with the sand and ink in the first place; not creating something exciting, then?" Perhaps she's not being so friendly, not even particularly pleasant, but, well, this is the way she unfortunately behaves.

Brianna says, "I" deep breath "Was cleaning with sand and ink. The thing that was /supposed/ to be fufilling, but was not doing the trick, was coated in ink, and is therefore ruined." Some inner growling commences "So, right now, I am a void of fufillment. It's negative. A picture of someone without fufillment."

A'ria heads out into the main hall. [RL]

Sissi shakes her head, murmuring "Oh dear, that's no good. Very unlucky, some might say." She raises an eyebrow - she can imitate, too. "Still, no use crying over spilt ink, right?

Brianna smiles calmly. Sweetly, in face "Oh, no. Not at all! Now, crying over the month's work that was /destroyed/ by the ink is all well and good, I'd think, right?" Both brows lift. She didn't catch that bit of imitation.

Sissi leans forward, chin propped on her hands, and raises, ever so carefully, first one eyebrw, then the other. Exercising. "That's the same thing," she points out, "Spilt ink, ruined work - where's the difference in that?"

Brianna gives the girl a Look. Bri is very good at Looks...fifteen odd years of Harpering does that to a person. "Well. Let's say you were working on a new pair of straps. So you didn't die if something happened. Perfectly legitimate work, straps. I don't care if you have other people make them for you, let's just say you /are/. Right?" She pauses for an affirmative.

Sissi looks back, not too deterred - she has been recieving such looks formost of her life, which is not to say she is completely impervious to them, but she can make a good show of it. "Right," she echoes, going for the profoundly bored sound.

Brianna smiles her best Bri-the-teacher smile "Right. Ok, so you're making these straps. They're going to be the Best Straps Ever" Bri is also very good at Speaking in Capital Letters. "They're beautiful. You won't have to make another set for /years/. Your dragon even approves. Then." Bri pauses for drama "Something terrible happens! Someone spills flaming oil on them and the things you've worked on for months are ruined! They took you forever! You have to start All over Again! /And/." Another dramatic pause "You can't do a whole lot, as your old straps are all messed up and it would be dangerous. You can't possibly tell me you wouldn't be just a /little/ miffed?"

Sissi keeps her face oh-so-carefully blank. "I'd get bored if they took months, but. If I was making them. If I was so very very careful with them, as they were going to be so good - well. I'd have them in my Weyr, not in the Living Caverns, and nowhere near any oil, ever, see?" Both eyebrows shoot up, now.

Brianna wags her head "No, no, no. This is not the way we play the game. When we play pretend, we accept all the premises as true, instead of saying what would or would not happen if you changed one. See?" Smile, smile, beam.

Sissi tips her head over to one side, and sighs, slightly. "I'm not changing the premises. I'm just saying that no-one ever brought something into the Dining Hall if they weren't prepared to get it broken."

Brianna nods a few times "Yes, that's changing the premises, because my story was based in my world where people expect other people to be careful of their things no matter where they are!" Brianna - Kindergarten Teacher from Hades.

Sissi can't help but object - and why try to be polite about it, "Well, I was imagining a world which has a population of more than /one/."

Brianna's nice, helpful smile freezes. She even speaks through her teeth. Sweetly. Oh so sweetly. "Yes, perhaps. But the point is to imagine /my/ world, not yours. Mine. The one I made. And spoke of. To you. Remember?"

Sissi nods, "Yes. And I imagined it. - I /tried/." Or appeared to. "But I just couldn't imagine it very realistically; so I just thought I'd point that out." The expession on Sissi's face quite clearly says 'dratted harpers'.

Brianna's shoulders droop. Some People "You have to imagine realistically? Realistic imaginging? What's the point of /ever/ imaginging /anything/, then? If it has to be realistic? Pray tell? This could be a breakthrough!" Bri makes dramatic arm movements.

"Well," Sissi begins, the sort of 'well' that has about fifty L's, "There's some imagining that's more real than reality, because it's /better/, and then there's some that's nearly real, but if you just imaging impossible or bad things and then expect them to be real, then that's not imagining at all. Is it?" Sissi looks at Bri, unlfinchingly. Still with just a little bit of that 'you're-boring-me' attitude.

Zephre glances up from her conversation with that elderly healer, which apparently was amazingly involved, just in time to catch the 'you're boring me' attitude accompanying Sissi's commentary. She pauses midsentence to see what kind of trouble Sissi's in now.

Brianna tries to sort through that, she really, really does. But then her eyes start to cross "Do you just say incomprehensible things when you know you're wrong? Or is it simply something you're in the habit of doing for the fun of it?" Now, that would probably sound terribly snippy if Bri wasn't still using that patient, kind voice she's so terribly fond of. It comes across more like....coaching.

"Oh, I'm probably always wrong," Sissi tells Brianna, in a voice oh-so-feather-light, "But I don't think I'm being any more incomprehensible than you are, " And here she's just got the voice to such a state of uncaringness it just can't last, "And after all, it takes a lot of imagination to be incomprehensible."

Brianna does /not/ laugh. Nope. But, if she weren't so vexed, she might consider giggling for a moment or two. Or five. "Hum. If you say so. I'll have to remember that one, yup." she mimics writing on her hand "Lot of imagination to be incomprehensible. Got it!"

Zephre opens her mouth, considers, closes it again, and rubs at one of the scars on her cheek. "I'm not sure I followed that," she mentions to her healer friend. She has that trouble with Sissi on occasion.

Sissi points at Brianna, "She understands it," she points out to Zephre. "If I didn't have any imagination whatsoever, I'd always be understandable because I'd be so basic. But when I imagine things, I'm seeing them from all sorts of ways, and some f them are incomprehensible, see?"

Brianna snorts "/Whatever/ you say, Rider dear. This conversation is making my head hurt." Who would have ever though the girl capable of conversation? Hum. "And I never said you didn't have imagination. That never ever occurred to me. You look very much like someone with loads of imagination. Just heaps, yes."

Zephre takes a moment to decipher that. "Oh, right. Yeah, Sissi's chock full of imagination." That's why she's so durned weird.

Sissi beams at Brianna, "Willow salic's good for headaches, you know," she remarks conversationally (even though a quiet normal conversation is probably beyond Sissi's capabilities.)

The healer sitting next to Zephre taps her arms and says something, low-voiced, and Zeph nods. "Sissi, be a dear and try not get into too much trouble? I'm going to run over to the Healer Hall for a moment." She gives Brianna an apologetic grin as she goes.

Zephre heads out into the main hall.

Brianna shrugs Zephre-wards in farewell, then tilts her head at Sissi "It is? But it tastes horrid. I usually just take a hot bath...that helps. You were a healer apprentice weren't you? Why does that help?" Not a pop quiz, Bri's back to curious.

"Hot baths, or things that taste horrid?" Siss asks for clarification. "Hot baths are good because - because - oh, something to do with relaxing. Relaxing's good for you." She grins, as if to say 'will that do'?

Brianna sighs, and apparently was hoping for something more to do with anatomy and reflexes and other complicated matters....before she remembers exactly /who/ she asked "Yes, it will. Thank you. Relaxing is good for you...I'll need to keep that in mind." A wry smile, a bit of head-wagging, and Bri's back to equalibrium. For now.

Sissi never got beyond the basics - plus she's had several turns to forget it all, now. "Important to relax sometimes, too," she adds, as usual never quite able to let things go. "That's what headaches and stuff are for, it's the body's way of telling you to relax." Which is, at least a statement scraped up from the recesses of her memory.

Brianna takes out the imaginary pen and paper again "Body's way of...let's just say 'telling'...you to relax. Important to relax sometimes." A few nods later, Bri's smiling just slightly "Thank you very much..is this visit you taking your own advice?"

Sissi pulls a face, "Oh no. It was all Zephre's idea, this one, and there I was, in the Living Caverns at the wrong time, so I got grabbed," Belatedly she seems to notice, "And Zeph's not even here now. Where'd she go?"

Brianna ahs silently "Well. I'm sorry..such a chore to travel about, I know." Whether it's an observation or carefully conceiled sarcasm is hard to tell. "She went off to the Healer Hall to talk to someone."

"Oh, I don't mind travelling, " Sissi assures, "But not when it's freezing and blizzarding outside; no. It's hardly safe, either." She thinks about Zephre again for a moment and then adds with a sigh, "And flying straight - ugh."

Brianna lifts both shoulders "Well, being ground-bound save for those odd times when people chose to give me rides places, I wouldn't know about that. But it does sound rather..nasty. Probably why most people are staying in their rooms and the like right now. Not alot of traffic."

"Seems sensible," Sissi nods. "Maybe we should stay here a bit, the Watchrider's Weyrs are big enough places, I think, to fit in," She pauses, then adds, "Actually I think we might do that, unless Zephre's got other big plans in mind. Like the Southern Continent." Remote possibility, but still a hope.

Brianna flicks that brow. Bri should have large forhead-muscles by now. Wouldn't that look interesting "Hum. Southern Continent? What's interesting down there?" Bri gets all edgy for a moment before grinning weakly.

Sissi explains, "It's summer. Winter up here means it's summer down there." Why, Sissi culdn't tell you. It just /is/. "And so it's warm." Ah, a brief sigh for that.

Brianna blinks "Oh." Right. She'd forgotten that...even though she'd been told some time ago. "I suppose that would be nice, yes..."

"Better than this." And then Sissi stands up, for some reason all edgy all of a sudden. "I'm going to go find Zephre," she says, deliberately, and heads off with not so much as a by-your-leave.

Brianna stares after the Person, and nods once. "Charmed to meet you and all that." And with a smirk at an inky footprint, she bends over her hides again

Drawing open the door, you pass into the yet more chaotic outer hall.