Drawing to a Close

Day 12 of Month 3 of Turn 2722
Half Moon Bay Weyr - Galleries
An amphitheater cut of rock with row after row of hard benches to sit on. The galleries have a good view of the sands below and the action that takes place there during every hatching. Despite the times, people still come to see the new pairs formed and place bets on the outcome.

The rush of movement, the voices, the noises.. the eggs. All now gone. Having personally overseen the eggs settled at Monaco, Z'tan has returned home, though it seems that despite the excitement coming to an end, the young man can't sleep. Early morning, and the Weyrleader is settled in the Galleries, sitting in the first row and leaning against the barrier separating the seats from the cooling sands, lost in thought and rather oblivious to his surroundings.

N'on enters the galleries at a solemn pace, with a thick notebook tucked under his arm. Aside from the rare glowy-green incident, since graduation he has largely been a solemn and silent figure, contributing his part to the weyr without working overly hard to step out of his lane. He and his green Zhelinath were there for the egg moving, working hard to keep them safe without attempting to offer any commentary on the situation. Now, he glances to the Sands as he makes his way across to Z'tan. He sits in the seat next to the weyrleader, sets the notebook on his lap, and then gives the man's shoulder a squeeze. It's probably a slightly inappropriate gesture, but his sympathetic expression betrays the reason for it.

A hand on his shoulder, and Zel starts, swiveling hurriedly, blinking a few times before offering the young man next to him a slow, sad smile, before he sighs deeply and leans back from the edge. Times like this, no place for protocol. "I.. suppose this is it, right? What kind of Weyr is it if we don't even have working Hatching Grounds?" He asks, eyes resting on the divots that were so recently the home to eggs. A tilt of his head and he glances back to N'on after a moment, eyes slipping to the notebook. "Nothing else happened, right?"

N'on jumps a little himself, round eyes showing that he didn't exactly intend to sneak up on the fellow. But it must happen to him often enough, because that surprise quickly melts into rueful apology. He waves off the concern of something else happening, and pulls a pencil from his pocket to write in the notebook. It's a quick message, jotted down and then passed over to the man. "I just came to check on you. Are you okay?" it says, in N'on's slightly sloppy but mostly legible chicken scratch. He hasn't often pulled out the notebook since weyrlinghood. Most of his cohort learned his sign language, and he tends to stick to interacting with people who are easy to 'talk' to. But in this case, he has apparently decided the effort is worth it.

A waved hand and Z'tan shakes his head, "I was just thinking. You're fine." He counters at N'on's offered apology, before he pauses to glance at the notebook, pursing his lips as he reads the words once.. twice. And then after a moment, he glances back up with a shrug. "I mean. I suppose as okay as I can be. With.. everything." Shifting, he sort of inclines his body towards the sands, without shifting his gaze from the green rider. "Thank you.." He offers after a moment, a little bit more of a real smile appearing. "It.. has been a long night." A long turn, really.

N'on nods a little, and jots down a quick note. "I thought no one would have asked." He glances back to the sands, hesitating over something. It's his dragon who steps in, finally, her voice a quiet thread of candlesmoke drifting toward Z'tan's Ysgieuth. « People are trickling away. Others are staying behind because they aren't willing to abandon their leader. » Unlike her rider, Zhe is direct and matter-of-fact. There's a sense that she's impatient with all this tiptoeing around the issue. « This is no way to conduct an evacuation. We need a plan. We need leadership. » N'on winces a little at his life partner's bluntness, but he doesn't contradict her.

"You guessed right.." He offers, even as he stills, letting the comments filter through from Zhelinath to Ysgieuth, before he considers them, shaking his head a little with a sigh. "I am not going to leave people here. I can't tell them to leave their home. Until they are all willing to leave, I'm staying. We might not be a real Weyr anymore but.." A groan and he leans forward to rest his elbows on the edge, rubbing his face with his palms, even as Ysgieuth is continuing a response of his own. « We could not tell Seyunestudath what to do. But they are safe now. But we will not just give up. » Stubbornness, perhaps, but perhaps coming from a place of loyalty. Zel's next words are slightly muffled, as he rubs at his face once more. "I am not stopping anyone from leaving. If you aren't comfortable, I will make sure you are settled wherever you want to be."

N'on frowns deeply. He goes back to the notebook, sketching out neat blocky letters for a bold faced proclamation that he then passes over to Z'tan. "I _will not_ abandon anyone." Zhelinath is a bit more pragmatic in her answer. « Many people will trickle away, it's true. But many will stand by your side as long as you insist on remaining. Mine included. If an evacuation plan is not devised, those people will suffer for it, eventually. » Her mindvoice takes on a slight warmth, then, lowering to the barest thread of a whisper. « All things end. It is the nature of things. »

"A seven day.. Maybe two. Then it will all be over. With the eggs gone, it is only a matter of days before the majority of the staff follows." A pause, and he shrugs a little. "Rumors will help.. its obvious we don't have any heat. The baths have failed.. A seven day. After that, we'll make a plan." For the last, stubborn stragglers. "I .. Faranth, I really never thought it was actually going to come to this." Shoulders droop and he flops back against the seat. "I thought it was all just.. going to get better. I didn't want to be called the Weyrleader who overreacted. Who was so out of his league he was scared by a little shake." Ysgieuth rumbles quietly to Zhelinath. « With Seyunestudath and hers gone, it is easier for Chauth to make the order. Even if she may not understand why these building failures are different than those she causes. »

N'on sighs quietly and pats Z'tan's shoulder again, looking back to the sands with a sad gaze. He has retreated to his typical uncommunicative silence, keeping his thoughts to himself. Zhelinath is not so polite. « This is not a plan. This is helpless wing-flapping. » From wherever she has settled herself to soak up the sun, she gives a mild snort. « Faranth save us all from a world that disallows greens from being leaders. » With that, she withdraws her connection from Ysgieuth, leaving N'on to sigh deeply and return to his notebook, as much to soften his dragon's censure as to clarify his own thoughts on the matter. "She is opinionated. She means well. Sorry. I am here to the end, however it goes. If you need anything, just ask."

« We are tired. » Ysgieuth protests slightly, weakly. « You will make a plan, then. While we wait. » That is the easy, logical way to do things right? Delegate? « You can make a plan and tell Chauth. Chauth does not approve of my plans. » Or him, when it truly comes down to it. The green's words do cause Z'tan to actually snort, as amusement attempts to break free, even as he is patting N'on's shoulder. "Don't apologize. Shards, I imagine you have your hands full." A pause. "We will figure it out. Soon. But.. But not today. I think… I think people," Read as: Zel, "I think we need a bit of time for it to sink in."

N'on nods a little, his expression full of all the genuine sympathy that his dragon seems incapable of expressing. He watches Z'tan for a moment, taking him in for a moment before he returns to the notebook and scrawls out a note. "You should find a bed and sleep in it. The Healers will give you something to help, if you ask." Judging by the slightly self-conscious smile he wears as he passes that note over, he's had reason to seek that particular help from the Healers, himself.

"Shards, you're right." Zel rubs at his face again, before eyes linger on the sands once more, and he is getting to his feet with a groan that it hardly fitting for a man of his turns. "I know you were busy, too, helping. You should take your own advice. We.. We will figure this out when we have a clear mind." Not that there is necessarily much to figure out - perhaps just a few gold riders to go beg. Turning to slowly head towards the exit, the Weyrleader pauses one more, glancing over his shoulder. "Ysgie says he wasn't joking, by the way. If either of you have ideas.."

N'on climbs to his feet along with Z'tan, and waves off any concern about his own well-being. No doubt Zhelinath is worrying about that enough for the both of them. The final comment leaves N'on with a thoughtful look as he follows Z'tan to the exit. In the end, he gives a little smile and a final squeeze of the man's arm to communicate a final note of support, before departing to let the poor man get some rest.

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