Letters Home

Half Moon Bay Weyr - Rooftop Garden
Soft grasses form a lawn central to this open air garden, producing a pleasant picnic space. Surrounding this greenery is a sanded and bordered path that wends around it and continues toward the front of the roof, where the pleasant aromas of cultivated herbs waft on the breeze. Rock gardens and low-hanging tropical trees form shelter from the elements, combined with an overhanging jut of the caldera wall, underneath which benches and sun chairs have been arrayed, rather like a natural gazebo.


The air is cool and sweet beneath the leafy trees which form the natural gazebo in the gardens. Early still, the gardens seem mostly empty, save a kitchen worker picking herbs and a lanky young woman with her back braced against the caldera wall, with long legs stretched out on the bench.

Wearing a robe still and bags under her eyes, one of Half Moon's candidate class slouches up the stairs from the 'bowl below. She's got a massive mug of steaming drink, and a smaller bowl of something else, and doesn't seem too aware of her surroundings. Citayzleat nearly manages to stumble over Tanit's legs, somehow, but pulls up short, blinking slowly. It takes a long moment to form words, but she manages! "Oh. I'm sorry, I," Beat. Cita gazes into space for a moment. "Wasn't paying attention. Morning."

Tanit looks up from the ink-spattered page with several lines scratched out. A half smirk forms on the pearl diver's lips. "Quite alright," Taking in the whole tableau with a lift of one dark brow. "Do you always take your meals out here, or just looking for a bit of quiet away from the barracks?" A warm smile spreading slowly over her lips as the letters are tucked away for the moment.

Cita blinks slowly a few times, then takes a massive draught of her beverage — tea, klah, it's not clear which, but the warmth seems to clear her eyes a little. "I eat up here mostly," The candidate admits, slow, smiling a little sheepishly. "We live in paradise, why not enjoy it?" This seems to exhaust her words for a moment, as she settles on the ground a little away, stretching her legs out haphazardly. A beat, and she focuses a little, eyeing the paper curiously. "Are you working on something?"

"Not a bad attitude to have." Tanit approves, a self depreciative smile given for the question. "Trying to write a letter home, but I'm not sure what to say." Her shoulders lift and fall, "Or rather, not sure what my parents would like to hear about. What about you? What do you tell your family about when you write home of your grand adventure?"

Sipping at her tea quietly, the healer-candidate watches Tanit, head tilted a little to the side. "It's difficult, writing home." She smiles, a little, still rueful. "Our parents are busy with their own crafts, lives…" Hitching a shoulder in a shrug, Cita huffs. "I tell mine the good parts. Things I've learned, sunsets I've seen. People I've met. How the starcraft here isn't as impressive as Landing's, because it makes them happy." That gets a wry kind of grin. The candidate takes another contemplative sip of her beverage. "They want to know you're happy, yeah? That you're doing well for yourself."

"Your folks are Starcrafters?" The diver asks, stretching lazily. "You are right I suppose, just over thinking it." Long fingers rake through disheveled hair, "What did they think of you choosing to stand?"

Cita nods, a little, starting to ooze down towards her mug a little even as she blinks, trying to stay awake. "They are." She agrees, sleepy, then smiles a little up at the diver. "You'll get it, though. Don't worry too much, they'll just be happy to hear from you, right?" The candidate is quiet for a long time, slouched against the wall, blinking down at her mug thoughtfully. "Think it's not smart." She laughs, and then falls even more quiet — is she asleep? Yes. Yes, she might well just be. At least, she's snoring.


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