Gift Runner

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.


It's half past too damn early in the morning, the sun only just creeping its way over Half Moon's bowl, but for some reason Heryn is up, and not looking half as grumpy about it as usual. If anything, the man is completely checked out, gaze distant as he more or less stares down towards the sands. Sitting in one of the divots where feet usually rest, the bartender's legs are sprawled over the over the bench in front of him, head resting back on the bench behind, fingers of one hand scritching idly at his newly-trimmed beard while the other loosely cups a normal-sized mug of klah.

If Heryn's awake, Cita might…be sleepwalking. That's what her exhausted shuffle suggests, at any rate. Do sleepwalkers curse when they stub their toes, though? "Fardling sharding damn-sharding." Mutter mutter grumble. And when she nearly steps right onto Heryn? Oh, she's awake actually, look. Her eyes are only open a sliver, and for once her early-morning cheer isn't so cheery. "Your face?" The healer mumbles, shuffling down the next level and sprawling on a bench. If the dam wakes, she might be eaten, but *horizontal*. Cita eyes the eggs in their warm little sandy trenches below without comment for a long moment. Maybe she's fallen back asleep.

It's lucky that sleepy shuffles are not terribly quiet shuffles, or Heryn might've slopped that klah all over himself at that toe-stubbing. As it is, he shoots a squint back towards the swearing voice, only to realize exactly who it is. He… can't muster up the energy to be properly terrified, especially when she's so sleepy she's almost tripping all over him, though the bartender does offer a low chuckle for Cita's mumbling. "What about my face?" There might be some amusement for her uncharacteristic behavior, but it fades quickly once she lays down, Heryn allowing the silence to stretch on for quite some time before, "D'you think maybe we were a little hasty? Like… maybe we didn't put enough thought into this whole thing?" Hooboy. Just over a sevenday in and already questioning. At least this explains why he's up and lurking in the hot galleries.

"It's shiny." Cita mumbles into the bench, looking perfectly content to be curled up on the not-soft bench. Or well, she would, if her face wasn't hidden behind her arms. Not asleep, still! But the warmth of the sands is better than her feet-smelling quilt, at least. She's quiet for a moment after the question, shifting a little so that she can squint down at the eggs again. "About five seconds after I did it?" The healer ventures, like she's not actually sure she ever was sure it was a great plan. "How long did it take you to place?" Cita huffs, shoulders twitching, then turns her head to an unnatural angle to squint at Heryn sleepily. "Dragons're right, though, aren't they? They…" She blinks, fishing for the words sleepily. "know." She doesn't look so sure, though.

Heryn's face scrunches up in a bemusedly amused look, pointing it towards Citayzleat's back for that observation. "It is not? It's just… less beardy than usual." He tries to be playfully defensive, but it probably comes off as petulant as his hand scrubs over the significantly shorter facial hair with a dull series of crackles. "Hmm," the bartender hums for that venture, considering his answer before adding, "The next day, when I realized I'd been assigned chores instead of being allowed to go to my job." The job he'd worked for, the job he enjoyed. His expression is troubled when Cita turns to look at him, and it doesn't improve from there, lips pursing as he looks from her out towards those dull outlines of eggs on the sands. "That's what people say," he agrees, dubiousness clear in his tone. He doesn't expound upon it though, instead taking a sip of his klah before shifting to a related topic. "We have to touch them, you know. The eggs." Somebody's been doing their homework. "Rider friend I talked to said they sort of… project into your mind somehow. I don't know if I'm ready for that." Or for any of this, his tone seems to imply.

Cita's eye-roll is not quite up to standard, sleepy as it is. "Mmhmm." She agrees, teasing, and smiles a fleeting hint of a smile. It's too early for the real thing. As for not working their *actual* jobs, Cita groans, thumping her head off the bench once. "Good time for it." The healer sighs, squinting thoughtfully into the dim lighting at the other candidate. She looks understanding, at least; they're probably insane, leaving good careers — even temporarily — for dragons. The next bit is digested for another long pause, but Cita looks more awake, wide-eyed. Mental projections from eggs? She'd never even seen a clutching, before this. "Shells." The candidate grumbles, burying her face again. Better that then try to imagine eggs trying to…contact them? "Projections. From eggs. That we have to touch. Shells, Heryn." Her voice is muffled, but eventually she's able to lift her head again, still wide-eyed. "There has to be a reason they do it, though. Dragonriders. Impressing."

Heryn tries to match that smile, he really does, but between tiredness and worry, it's weak and equally fleeting. There is an answering 'mmhmm' of agreement for her groaning and head-thumping, Heryn's eyes drifting askance with a humorless huff of air. "Seriously. It was surreal, standing in a cluster of candidates as they were discussing what they were assigned for the day, and making plans for after, and realizing that I kind of… didn't want to be there." Ah. Perhaps that is one of the roots of the issue: somebody's looking the gift runner in the mouth, and feeling pretty guilty for not blindly loving what he saw. As for the eventual egg-touchings, there's a grave nod for her wide-eyed reaction to the news, likely having gone through similar mild-horror-revelations already. "I know. I already feel like I'm going to screw something up if I sneeze too loudly up here." He can't even begin to wrap his head around the rest. "I'm sure you're right. If you ever want to hear a line spun as thickly as a Bitran peddler's, though, try asking one of them why. It's impressive."

Cita looks like she might be trying to melt into the bench, uncertain and wary. Her eyes twitch back and forth, tracking something in her head for several beats. Then she makes a vague noise that might be agreement, lips twisting into a grimace. "Most of them are younger." She eventually decides, like that's really why. "Less to lose." That sounds almost like a question, trailing off at the end uncertainly. Also, quiet, because that dragon down there chased them right off last time they were here. Who knows what she'd do this time. After a moment, the healer's face scrunches up in thought. "It's…normal? Probably? To second-guess." It's scant comfort, but given that she pauses halfway through to cough the sleep-hoarse out, it's good enough. As for Feyruth down there? Cita winces, shivering all over. "They won't hurt us." She *really* doesn't sound like she believes that. "Not even if we sneeze on the eggs. Which you won't. There's an herbal tea for that." The humor is a little strained. "I think — I think some of the riders probably felt like that. Too." Cita finally decides, words slow and deliberate. She's not *sure*, but she's close to it. And on the riders, the healer snorts, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Oh, don't let them get started. My gran tells it twice a week if she can. You've got to distract them."

"I had thought of that," Heryn says, finally, reluctantly pulling himself up to perch on the bench behind him, both hands hanging onto his mug. "The risk is perhaps more worthwhile - if not less to lose, then certainly more to gain? I don't know…" His head drops, floppy hair dangling low enough to at least partially obscure his frown. There is a snort for Cita's strained attempts at humor, though, the corner of Heryn's mouth twitched up as he eventually looks back her way. "We'd better invest in some of that tea, just in case," he lamely jokes right back. There is a quiet, contemplative 'hmm' for riders likely having felt this way before, but whatever his thoughts are on that matter, he keeps them to himself for the time being. Instead, his tiny smile shifts into a real grin for the Healer's snort of amusement. "I'm sure you're right. This gran of yours sounds like a smart lady," the bartender says as he finally stands, stretching out achey back muscles before tilting his head towards the gallery exit. "Anyways, enough philosophical dwelling for now. Dunno about you, but I need another mug of klah before they summon us for PT," he says before leading the way into another fun, fun day in this new chapter of their lives.


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