A Green's Collection (Zeltan is Searched)

Day 0 of Month 11 of Turn 2716
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Living Cavern
Here is the center of Weyr life, the living caverns. These two main rooms were man-shaped from smaller caves, and are joined by a carved arch with depictions of dragons in flight and dolphins leaping in swirling waves. One room has many round stone and wooden tables and a stone fire-pit instead of a hearth. Over the round-walled, gas fired pit is a large conical hood made of polished bronze, with reliefs of dragons with their riders flying over ships guided by dolphins. This hood and chimney keeps the room smoke-free. Through the archway is an enormous hall, with long tables and benches, some carved from the rock floor, many crafted of wood. This room is a combination dining and meeting hall, and can seat over 300 comfortably. Above both rooms, angled shafts lined with polished metal bring in sunlight during the day. Electric lights also burn, day and night.

Dinner has come and gone, the majority of the Weyr having long since gone to find other activities - maybe in the rec hall, maybe somewhere else, maybe to bed. However, one young man still lingers in the Caverns, a plush cat sitting on the empty table in front of him - hard to miss given its very bright green color. Humming softly to himself, Zeltan is absently flipping through a small book, the size of his palm, making little notations here and there.

The kitchens are kind enough to leave sideboards, even after the main dinner population has come and gone. Some crews, both rider and not, still work late into the night. In the case of one bluerider, the night shift is where she spends most of her evening hours. Freshing released from duty, bathed, and clothed (thank Faranth), Valeska lurches into the living caverns. She approaches the tables, gathering up some easy to eat things, and she moves to a thankfully empty spot. Few people means less opportunities to be bothered. The woman sits down, plops her tray on the able top and runs her fingers through damp auburn hair to get it out of her face. Grey lined blue eyes look from left to right, then she does what makes her comfiest! Feet up on other chairs, elbows on the table and she mixes all of her food into one unrecognizable mass of colors and textures. Content, she sighs, shoveling her food into her mouth. She may or may not be making cute little angry kitten nomming sounds as she goes.

What.. what is that sound? Zeltan pauses, distracted from his little book, turning to look this way and that, until it is a complete swivel that brings him around to face Valeska's back. "Oh, its you. For a moment I thought this plushie was alive, and I thought I'd really screwed it up." He offers, far far too cheerfully given the hour, before he is shamelessly swapping tables, lime plushie cat coming with him, so that he is seated near to Val - not NEXT to her, but, well, close enough, given all the empty space. Eyes flick to her mixed-up food mess, and he grimaces - failing miserably at hiding it, "I, uh. I guess you are enjoying your dinner?" He asks absently as he settles the plushie into a seated position on the table, giving it a brief pat on the head to make sure it is stable.

The angry kitten sound ceases to be and those tired blue eyes slowly pan over to the source, and Valeska just might look a little threatening… if it weren't for her cheeks being stuffed to the brim with food. There might or might be tuber on her chin. The lime green kitten is given a raised brow for a bit and she begins to work on the food in her mouth, slowly nodding her head. Yes, this is food. She likes food, especially when it's all in her mouth. Besides, it's all going to the same place anyway. Val clears her throat and motions to the plushie. "If that thing were alive, you'd have bigger things to worry about." Can you mess up something already messed up? The green kitten is given a suspicious stare as she piles another spoonful of food into her mouth. I'm onto green kitten, you can't have my fud. This is mine!

Too bad for Val, Zeltan has very, very few self preservation instincts, and cheeks stuffed with food or not, he just simply doesn't fall for the whole "threatening" thing. Absently, a napkin is pulled from a pocket and offered to the bluerider, even as he is glancing back at the little green cat. "You think? I mean, some people dye their hair, I'm sure if you got one of those nice, light-colored felines you could get a rather striking shade of green to it." He shrugs a little, glancing back at Val and arching an eyebrow. "Do you think it looks enough like a kitten, though? Aside from green?" No peace for the woman tonight!

Valeska continues to work on her food with shoulders sagging, but she doesn't slow down one bit. Oh well, one person is better than a room full so she'll just suck it up and enjoy her food at her leisure. It's rare when it happens at any case. She peers at Zeltan, then at the green kitten, then back. "I don't think people are partial to dying felines when the things are cute fuzzy balls of murder. They don't care for the washing that comes with the coloring." People dying their hair is a strange thing, too, but so is glitter and everyone has survived that so far. The plushie is examined again while she takes the offered napkin, cleaning her face. She better not run into this thing in the baths or something. "It.. looks like a kitten." That's her assessment. Another mouthful of food is shoveled in and she leans back into her chair with a groan. Good thing she wore the stretchy pants!

Val's assessment of the plushie seems to satisfy Zeltan, for the Trader is nodding at her, giving the plushie another little pat, the small book pulled out of his pocket and another notation made - even a quick glance though, would reveal that the majority of the writing is blurry - if not downright unintelligible - but that doesn't seem to stop the addition of a new note. The tiny book is then closed and put away, before he is glancing back at her. "I suppose then, you wouldn't be interested in one of your own? I get a better price, the more I can commit to." A pause. "It doesn't even need to be green."

Blurry writing? What is this guy? A Healer? Only Healers can have a disaster of the fingers upon paper like that. It's like the words were held hostage and then brutally murdered or something. You know, like Healer's writing! That would explain the kitten plush. Valeska even entertains the thought of the poor thing being a result of an experiment. Like human centipede, only with kittens. Does Pern even have Centipedes? "Hrm… Well, let me think on it. Adopting kitten plushies is serious business." Mecahisth is partial to blue, so green isn't allowed! The blue lays sprawled outside, taking advantage of the cooler weather to just be a general nuisance, startling passersby with his rumbling. "Have you been making those things for long?"

Blurry writing - the outcome when *someone* dumps you in a giant vat of water with all your belongings on you. Tanit. As the bluerider seems to consider the plushie, Zeltan reaches over to make it move a little, walking it slightly towards Val with a crooked grin. "You know you want one…" He murmurs with a smirk, and a wink. "All the ladies love them, these days." And then, she is asking about him making them, and his smirk turns to a smile, and then the smile turns to laughter, and he is motioning with a hand. "Oh, no. I don't -make- anything. I just connect buyers with sellers. A lovely woman out of Ista worked this pattern out for me, though. I had a special request."

Dumping people in water, Tanit? Well, guess it's an occupational hazard so she's off of the hook. Valeska has moved onto picking up her slide of bread and slapping a heavy spoonful of her random food concoction onto it. She tilts her head from side to side, humming a little tune while she has it spread just right. Once appeased, she takes a big bite out of it, chewing with her mouth open and everything while peering at the green kitten. "Do they now?" she says with mock interest, reaching to the side to collect her mug and take a little sip. She clears her throat, covering her mouth, then takes another bite. Complete with angry kitten nomnoms. "So you're doing all the foot work for someone else, and you basically get paid on commission I take it?" How does these selling things work, anyway? She gets paid for her duties, there's not much in the way of things to be done for commission in the Dolphineers.

The plushie (and yes, it is lime green) kitten is wiggled again where Zeltan has it settled on the top of a table, the living caverns almost completely deserted - which makes the trader's intrusion of Val's personal space all the more daring at this late, late, after dinner hour. "Commission… In some cases, I suppose that is a good description. But some people have things to sell - pearls, glass sculptures, you know - and no time to do it. So take them off their hands, find it a new, worthy home, and well, if a portion of the marks find a home with me.." Shrug. Zeltan leans back a little, pondering as he looks Val over. "I'm sure you have something that you'd like to get your hands on.. Its ok, everyone does."

Nearly deserted living caverns? Awesome. Clearly this calls for table-space invasions despite an abundance of other places at which R'sner could chose to sit. But that would be boring! And so the weyrlingmaster drops himself into a chair at Valeska and Zeltan's table, eyeing the lime green plushie kitten with a somewhat speculative glance, that is quickly turned on the bluerider and her open-mouthed nomming of bread-and-randomness-spread. He at least offers a polite, "Good evening," as he does so, which maybe softens the blow?

Well, there is something she would love to get her hands on but it's still on the sideboard table and she's not particularly looking to get up and go get it. It's also close enough to justify not paying ay marks for a rogue wherry leg, either! When the other voice comes into play, Valeska reverts back to her former closed mouth eating style and she nods her tired head in greeting to R'sner. The woman straightens up in her chair, scooting it forward and she slides her mug right in front of her. There's still a pile of slop and bread to get into but she likes to let the juices marinate for a bit. It's the Weyrlingmaster, so she has to be good and all that… Mecahisth, on the other hand, doesn't feel he has to be good. Not under the cover of darkness, especially. Valeska's droll features pause, and that face? That's the face that thinks of murder all day long, only cuter. A faint tinge of red peeks around her freckled face and she throat clears. Oh, he'll be good, he's just observing. Stalker.

"Really? Nothing?" Zeltan's eyes flick to the blue riders knot, humming softly, "Your lifemate doesn't have unusual habits? River stones… Odd plants… glitter." The last is said far, far too casually, and unfortunately for the trader, it is also said as R'sner slips into a seat at the table. Suddenly, Zeltan is pulling the plushie cat towards him, finding it super interesting as a hint of color appears on his cheeks, and he murmurs a soft, "Sir." After a moment, clearing his throat, his gaze flips back to R'sner, cautiously sussing out the situation. Is he caught?

A that 'lifemate' and 'unusual habits' there's a heavier sigh from R'sner. It comes with the lift of his hand and the pinch of the bridge of his nose. Because HIS lifemate? Definitely some unusual habits. Such as collecting things when she's proddy. Including, it seems, a stalker. But neither green nor greenrider seem unduly upset by the "observation" and, human-half at least, seems prone to ignore it in favor of his Klah. At least, that's probably what's in the mug he brought with him. As for Zeltan? That mention of glitter certainly gets a twitch of his eyebrow, and maybe a bit of a shudder, but maybe the trader has lucked out. Res certainly doesn't appear like he's about to rat him out. Maybe he didn't make the connection? "Hm?" for that 'sir', momentarily at a loss before he connects the dots that he meant him. "Oh. Right. You mean me. Um. Hi?" Squint. "Why do you have a lime green feline plushie?"

"You better watch out for that plushie," she begins, a look of serious business on her face as her mug is pushed aside in favor of her tray. There's still food in it, and she intends to fill her cheeks once more! "I've the heard stories, you know." Valeska gathers another heaping spoonful and she shovels it into her mouth, pointing the spoon at the suspicious green kitten. "If you stare at it long enough, that thing'll stare back. Might not look much, but when you get the chills peeking at that thing, you know it's not some beady nonsense. It'd be staring at you." Cause she totally knows these things, right? Mecahisth doesn't mind being collected, so long as he can take mental notes on what it is that makes females tick. What makes them do the things they do? It's facinating, the science and mechanics of it all. For what purpose? What dark purpose… Valeska offers a crooked smile to the pair of men. Don't mind the tiny sliver of green between her teeth.

The sigh from the Weyrlingmaster has Zeltan looking at the older man, intrigued for a moment, but whatever question he was going to ask, he misses the opportunity, as the plushie cat is questioned instead. "Apparently there is a Lime Cat club, now. This is the new mascot. Or, well, the prototype." A pause, and he offers the plushie towards the greenrider. "Are you interested in one? They can come in other colors." Help a trader drive down his unit cost, come on. As Val, though, falls into a ramble about the plushie, don't mind Zeltan as he scoots away JUST a bit, glancing over his shoulder. Maybe there was a reason the woman was sitting by herself.

R'sner is, likewise, eyeballing Valeska a bit more as she describes the horrors of staring-plushies. It's a look that goes from bluerider, to questionable plush-kitten, to scoot-scooting traders, to the empty tables around the living caverns, and then back to the bluerider. "Could always just pluck the eyes off of it; then it can't stare back," he notes in what seems a rather serious sort of tone. "And no, thank you," to Zeltan for the offer. "I have no need of a green plush feline. Not part of this club, either so… seems like that might be a bit inappropriate." Toith? Toith might like a green feline plushie, says the big whirling eye at the entrance of the living caverns. A grimace, and R'sner modifies his previous answer to a flat, clipped, "Fine. How much?" Beat. "And how long before it arrives?" seeing as this one is the 'prototype'.

Now Mecahisth is most indeed intrigued! Pluck the eyes out of it, it would work just fine but just be sure not to let those eyes go to waste. One mans vision is another man's treasure! Or dragons, perhaps he can gift them to Toith and see how she displays her behavior. Valeska's eye begins to twitch and she peers over to R'sner with the look of something so sour. Though, if her rider gets her the plushie, she will have her own eyes. It wouldn't have the same appeal! Counter offer! COUNTER OFFER! Valeska begins to grumble and she just shovels her food more into her mouth. SHUT IT, DRAGON. "Can I get one with four eyes?" Cause why not. "And six limbs? It needs to be hallow, too. Like, I need to be able to put my hand up it's butt."

Is that a disappointed trader? Maybe - Oh, no, wait. The large eye in the entrance means it is in fact, not a disappointed Trader at all, and Zeltan is grinning at R'sner. "Just a Mark. If'n I can get 10, though, it'll be three quarters…" Bulk discount. "She managed this one in a day, for an early adopter like yourself, a sevenday, perhaps, provided no issues." Glancing over his shoulder at his *real* client, he asks idly, "This green, or darker or lighter, or something all together different?" Valeska gets another long, weirded out, look, before he shrugs. "Sure, 4 marks for the special order." Is that over the top?

Toith would LOVE some eyeballs! Yus! Real ones, fake ones… Both! But if we're gonna slaughter a real beasty, can she have some nice juicy innards to go with it? All the better for rolling around in (Toith = worst. female. ever.). There is eyebrow twitching and shoulder hunching from the human, though R'sner seems to be pretending that his dragon isn't peering enviously into the caverns and eyeballing that stuffed feline creature. "She wants to know if it can be dyed to match her hide…" sigh. "But that color is fine," would be his answer. As for the price? A purse of his lips, a bit squinty-eyed at the trader, and he decides, "there is no way I am going to be buying ten of them, or waiting for nine more people to jump on board the lime-cat craze." But a whole mark? A chuff from the entrance seals that deal though. "Fine, fine!" Deal. Cause he can't haggle, apparently. As for that delightful special order? Side-eyes to Valeska, and there's a bit of a pause and a head-tilt (as though perhaps he is envisioning all that she has requested) and a curious, "Are you making a puppet?"

People would seriously spend marks on such nonsense? How crazy can this person be? "It has to have something in the head that rattles so it sounds like it's purring when you shake it. The claws also have to be functional." Cause the customer is always right, Zel. ALWAYS. I mean, look at that Toith face! Mecahisth is looking at the sunnier side of the green dragon from a safe distance. "Like," Valeska says before taking another sip to wash away the remnants of her meal. "Like have it to where if I flex my hands, the little nails go in and out. I want the same evil eyes as that kitten." She's out of food and with a sad look on her face, she peers at the sideboard. R'sner's question gets her attention back and she just shrugs with a smirk on her face. "Well, if this person really wants to turn a profit, they should do some really ellaborate custom things. If I'm gonna spend marks on a kitten plushie, it better be the best looking creation on this side of the island. Mainly because I'm cheap." Which is true.

"Anything can be done, for the right price." Zeltan counters to Val, even as her list of demands gets more and more ridiculous. "Though, I think you'd be better off just finding a firelizard to train to sit on the back of your hand and pretend." A shrug to R'sner and he grins a bit. "Well, luckily for you, I've already got 4. And I'll even make you a deal - if I get 10, I'll give you the difference back." How could you pass that up? Glancing over his shoulder at the green who seems to be driving the deal, he tilts his head. "Probably not an issue, lemme just go look." And the lime plushie is left on the table for now, as he wanders to check and make sure he can get -just the right color- to match Toith.

OK, now this is just getting real ridiculous. "You're a little odd," decides the weyrlingmaster, speaking very obviously about Valeska. "Four eyes, six legs… working claws…? How is that the 'best looking' feline?" he wonders, perhaps reconsidering just how serious she is on this whole custom-job. "Creative. I'll give you that." And perhaps he's thankful that Toith just wants a normal plush, which is bad enough perhaps. But wait, Zeltan already has four other orders? "Oh yeah?" and that is genuine surprise in that voice of his. "Huh." But he does look perhaps a bit better at his odds of getting that quarter-mark back. As Zeltan leaves to color match his dragon, R'sner takes the opportunity to inspect that plushie creature a little bit closer (and maybe the eyes in particular). Toith? Well, she'll happily shuffle herself this way and that so that the trader can get a proper view. Green. A very "vivid, verdant" green (or so says her desc!). At least where it peeks through the muck and mud she's gone and rolled in. Bath time? Probably in the near future for one Ms. Toith.

"Anything can be done for the right price, huh?" As for the odd statement, she's gonna sit up straight and tall and all lady like, especially to pout over to the sideboard tables some more. Resigned, she shoves herself up to her feet and begins to drag her empty tray back over and gets some seconds! This time, she returns to the table with lots of nice healthy greens and other steamy veggies… smothered in gravy. With a plop, she's back in her seat and she's moving a select veggie this way and that. No point in mixing solids. The gravy pools near to the edges anyway, she'll just have to lick the plate when she's done. "Make her the brightest green ever, though. Should be accurate." A knowing sidelong look is sent to R'sner as she nibbles the tip of her veggie spear. Don't mind her. She just really likes runny gravy.

It is a long few minutes as Zeltan attempts to figure out the right color to note - the darkness and the mud certainly not helping the situation - before something is scribbled in his tiny little book, and it is returned to his pocket as he strolls back towards the riders. Val's plate is eyed, the trader rolling his eyes, "Where do you even put it?" He mutters under his breath as he slides back into his seat, apparently unable to look totally away from the horror in front of the bluerider. Finally, though, a shake of his head and he glances at R'sner. "I just got the prototype too, so I am hoping maybe a few people will see them, and think they make good Turnover presents for their kids."

Oh yeah, there's definitely a bit of a glow to that vivid hide, though subtle (and perhaps hidden by shadows). But still. It's enough that Valeska gets a look for that comment, because while Toith might be all sorts of perky and in full-on 'collector' mode (crazy klepto-green), her rider is NONE TOO THRILLED by the reminder. Her choice of second-helpings is stoutly ignored, R'sner's gaze returning promptly to Zeltan upon his return. And it's a funny look indeed; one that slides up and down the trader in a way that MIGHT make people uncomfortable. Assessment. Contemplation. The weighing of options. And then a snort and another glare (this one aimed for the green in the weyrbowl) that lingers. A deliberation (argument?) as evidenced by the lack of focus in those blue eyes of R'sners, and the range of unpleasant-seeming emotions (lots of grimaces and tensing of jaw muscles). "Fine. FINE!" and there's a crow of triumph from the bowl as Res lifts a hand to pinch at his nose. "How do you feel about staying at Half Moon Bay? Just for a couple months. Just until those eggs hatch…" he offers. "I'll still pay you for the plushie, but now Toith wants… to collect you." Beat. "As a candidate," he amends quickly. "I've gotten her to agree to let you stay as a candidate," which… might make one wonder what the other option was?

Valeska just smirks over to poor R'sner and she goes back to her food, selecting another gravy smothered vegetable from her plate and she eats it. Loudly. SHE WAS HERE FIRST. Enjoy, gentleman. The young man's recent new business offer does have the Dolphineer a little curious if he accepts if the marks are so good. So much for her many eyed-many legged kitten! Mecahisth rumbles outside, thinking of other things that the green might be interested in. Entrails is a given, perhaps some brains? Can't just be wherry brains, though, much to small. Herdbeast maybe. Shame they're well sequestered at this hour. Valeska frowns and sends a venomous stare at the door way. She's eating, Mecah. STOP IT.

This isn't the first time that Zeltan has been on the 'wrong' end of R'sner's gaze, and it seems the trader isn't much more comfortable with it this time, than he was last time. Shifting in his seat, he glances from R'sner to the green he just checked in the bowl, and back to the weyrlingmaster at the sudden outbursts from both. However, it seems the words that follow have Zeltan speechless, for possibly one of the first times ever, as he runs a hand through his hair, blinking a few times, before glancing at R'sner. "Uhm.. okay, sure? I have a few.. arrangements to make but." Still seeming slightly unsure about the whole thing, though, Zel remains frozen in his chair, shaking his head slowly again, "Tanit is going to laugh at me.." He mutters, which seems to make him miss the potentially concerning comment from R'sner - good thing, too, cause he probably doesn't need more to worry about.

Her hair now long enough to be caught up (barely) in a runner's tail at her nape, while the rest of it is barely tucked behind her ears, the impassive form of Leeta makes its way into the living cavern, the tall, pale complected woman with the intense, clear green eyes scoping out all around her as she ambles forward on light, booted feet. She's either a new face or relatively new, since nobody seems to recognize her or greet her…at least now. Is she looking for someone in specific as she roams about with purpose? Only the woman wearing Blue Flame Hold's cords and her pair of firelizards know, the very young brown and blue settled upon each shoulder, their tails wound together behind her neck. Wait, did someone mention Tanit? Those intense eyes lift, flick over to where Zeltan is..and recognize him. OVer to the young man she shifts her path…then notices R'sner. Ick. Yep, she still remembers their past meeting.

Brains! Brains would be wonderful! Yes, Toith approves. Mostly because R'sner does not. But for the moment, he is suitably distracted by making curious offers toward the trader, and then waiting for an answer with an expression that tries and fails to look aloof. Relief. THAT is what passes the instant that Zeltan sounds at all accepting of that offer. "Oh thank Faranth because she probably wouldn't let you leave otherwise." A long exhale and he nods his head two or three times, releasing Zeltan from potentially uncomfortable looks as he turns to sip at his Klah. "That's fine. Take a day or two and sort out… whatever you need to sort out. Then report to the Headwoman; I'll send her a note. She'll get you a white-knot too; I don't carry them on me." Maybe he should? Oh well. "Also, she still does want the plushy." Just to be clear. But Res is looking much better now that that debacle is over with. Which means he can spend more time contemplating Valeska's choice of gravy-and-veggies. Hrm. At least it spares 'Leeta' his attention, for now? Fat chance it'll last though; he still remembers her, too. Dun dun duuuuuun.

Hey, veggies are good for you! They take care of hair, eyes, skin, teeth, bones, and Toith's fave? BRAINS. The gravy is technically a protein so it's still a balanced meal and healthy for you~ So poor R'sner isn't looking at something out of the ordinary, it's healthy! It's good for you, R'sner. Even if Valeska is taking her time to nibble at all the vegetables for the one and only purpose of being an asshole. She is hungry, though. So it's food not wasted!

"Of.. of course. That's one of the things I need to take care of." Zeltan murmurs, even as he glances over his shoulder, catching sight of Leeta and offering her an inclined head. And then, a pause, and he glances from R'sner to Val, to R'sner.. "I… I think I am going to go do that." He finally manages, the shocked trader getting to his feet, remembering at the last moment to snag the lime green plushie cat from the table, before he is wandering out, a little glassy-eyed as he goes.

Is Leeta trying to actively avoid catching R'sner's attention? It doesn't look like it, but she's not trying to find it, either. Once the quiet, self-contained woman is moving somewhat nearer Zeltan, her low and even alto voice pointed inquires of him, "Candidate, Zeltan… have you seen Tanit…" Oh. Shit. Too late. The kid with stars in his eyes and dragons on the brain is practically flaoting away, not having heard her inquiry in his joy. Crap. A small frow finds the corners of her mouth, those green eyes…and then a small shrug is given, the woman already altering her slowed bootsteps to take her away from the little group that remains.

Veggies and gravy. Sure. Totally a balanced meal. A scowl, though it might have more to do with that draconic discussion of BRAINS than the actual gravy… but maybe it sort of resembles mushed-up brains? Hm. "Good. Do that," encourages the weyrlingmaster, apparently finding nothing odd about Zeltan deciding to get right on it (running away? Smart lad). And since he's already agreed to stay forever (so says Toith), the green in the bowl is happy enough to let him pass, offering a deep-throated sound that MIGHT be a croon, or MIGHT be a growl. It has Res eyeballing the door once again. And while he NO DOUBT heard that voice (there's a sudden, sharp-eyed look to the fair-haired woman that says HE TOTALLY SEES YOU LEETA!) it doesn't prevent him from standing soon after the trader vanishes. "Enjoy your…" and there's a hand-wave at the plate of green-and-gravy, "Whatever that is." Frown. Hesitation. And then, "Bye," as he makes a less than stellar exit. Blame proddy brain?

Yeah yeah. She notices him noticing her, but Leeta doesn't bother to even acknowledge R'sner as being alive, much less present as she moves away from the former gathering like a snow leopard on the prowl for something. Probably a Tanit. The only acknowledgement 'poor' Valeska receives is a bare, polite hint of a nod before the holder woman disappears back outside and into the bowl, where she can ask around for Tanit..and perhaps see that glowy green dragon, too.

"Goodnight, Weyrlingmaster! I'll treat you to a proper dinner later! That way you can truly know what you're missing!" Valeska is all beaming and smiles, complete with over enthusiastic hand wave to the poor plagued greenrider. Don't worry, Mecah will keep your girl company. They can have healthy adult discussions about anatomy and nutrition. Perhaps some (mis)behavioral health topics. Dragons can be intellectual! She returns her attention to her plate and shoves the remains in the center so she can cover some rogue spots in gravy before her bread soaks it all up. It's late, and if she's lucky, the blue WILL drop her off on the ledge at the very least. Is there any other signs of life at this awful hour?

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