** Day 5 of Month 10 of Turn 2719
Day 5 of Month 10 of Turn 2719**
The western end of the great bowl of the Weyr. You can see the steep walls of the crater to the south and south, with small openings and ledges in the cliffside. These are the individual weyrs of dragons and their riders. To the west you can see the great natural arch, and the lagoon, to the east, the center of the bowl. To the south you see a large natural cave opening that has been made into a tunnel. It is the main entrance to the Weyr from the road to Half Moon Bay Hold.
Though the worst of the unseasonal weather seems to have finally passed, there is still a good foot of powdery white stuff left to melt from Half Moon Bay Weyr's shores. It is just enough and just cold enough that the very brave, (or arguably very stupid) have ventured out into the crisp air to 'frolic' in the snow. Ugly mismatched sweaters and coats that were probably dug out of mothballs from a life spent some place other than the Island paradise can be seen as residents and visitors alike brave the snowy afternoon.
Merek wanders into the west bowl, from the east bowl.
Half Moon’s Resident Junior and former Dolphineer is amongst those eyeing the snowy powder with deep mistrust, having a long-standing dislike of the substance. Sea-green eyes survey the area from behind a Chauth shaped bunker, the vivid purple mittens clashing terribly with the thick layers of red and green sweaters the young woman has bundled into, complete with orange puffy scarf and a grey hat. She is after all a tropical creature like most who reside in the weyr year-round. Still she seems intently waiting a pile of ammunition already prepared, as the seemingly napping gold acts as an impromptu fort.
Snow!? Isn't this why Z'tan didn't spend his entire life trapped at Fort Weyr, despite the (mis?)fortune of having been born there. However, it seems like he has found ~enough~ clothes, though a good portion of them look like old flight leathers as the bronzerider appears in the bowl, pausing to glance over his shoulder at Ysgieuth, as the bronze half-sits, half-stands, seemingly unwilling to settle down into this cold, white, wet stuff. "Even -Chauth- doesn't mind, Ysgie, and she's practically a giant feline. Don't be so silly."
Target acquired! Distance? Two meters. Pitch? Who has time to calculate that? A ball of white is scooped between hideous mittens and flung with all the strength and precision Tanit can possibly muster. At least the touch of Chauth’s mind is warm, the ghostly flicker of blue white flame present even if the dragon herself neglects to bother opening an eye. « There are worse things, than snow you overgrown pocketwatch.» Something decidedly playful in the greeting.
« You would certainly know, would you not, Chauth. » There is a snort from Ysgie at the gold's lack of carrying, though as a white thing is flying and headed straight for -his- rider, the bronze is rocking back on his hind limbs, trumpeting in concern and spreading his wings widely for balance. The trumpet is probably what saves Zel from catching a snowball in the face, as he starts to turn, the white projectile instead exploding as it catches him behind the ear, and he is whipping back to peer at the golden fort. "Hey!" He protests, though makes no move to reduce his presence as a tempting target.
Merek has come to watch the snow while he has on his cloak about the black attire which he wears. He is watching the people as he drinks from the water which he has with him.
« Oh relax you overgrown stick in the mud. » Cue a swish of that short powerful tail sending a - well it isn't a wave if it's frozen is it? Sending snow. Lots and lots of snow at her brother. « The air is growing warmer at last. Soon the snow will be gone. » A restless chime to her mental voice. "Aren't you supposed to be the one from the frozen reaches… of wherever it is you lived…" She knows, maybe. Maybe not. There have been a lot of half awake conversations over the years. Tanit flings another missile lazily at the bronzerider a 'giggle' escaping slightly.
« If only the snow was not the -only- thing getting ready to leave. » There is a soft grumble to the bronze's words as he settles back down, quite prim in his motions, carefully settling his tail around him. And then there is that avalanche and he is back on his feet, trumpeting again in displeasure. "There is a -reason- I don't live there anymore." Z'tan protests, though he does finally seem to have the sense to duck out of the way - though out of the way is straight towards Chauth - if he is close enough to the fort wall, she can't hit him, right? "And its not just your lovely face."
"Because it's boring and cold?" Tanit chides, as her next toss goes wide completely missing Z'tan and potentially hitting random passers by. "At least the melt means that the holds should be able to start planting again." Of course the last comment does earn another shot aimed for the bronzerider's own 'lovely' face.
"Hey! That was suppose to be a compliment!" Z'tan protests as another snowball is coming his way, and he is ducking and hunkering down against Chauth's side. An absent pat to the gold as if to say 'Thanks', and Zel is leaning to pull snow together into an oversized snowball, which is carefully balanced as he begins to creep around the gold's bulk. « Well, we never have to worry about it being boring -here-. » Ysgie continues his own commentary, even as he slowly settles back down, rumbling softly again in displeasure.
Tanit laughs! “A complement is only as good as it is genuine. Flattery will not save you.” A mischievous gold on the other hand? For now the gold seems not to alert her life mate to the presence of the interloper. « You protest too much Ysigie. If you’d loosen your straps every now and again, I dare say you might actually have fun.» .
Protesting that it was, in fact, genuine would do nothing but alert Tanit to his current location, and while Chauth seems - for now - to play willing accomplice, Zel remains quiet as he continues to sneak around, shuffling his feet to avoid the telltale crunch of his steps. And then, he is clear of the gold tail and he is launching the oversized snowball at the hidden rider. "HAH!" He adds as it goes flying, even as Ysgie takes over the quiet sulking now, whatever muttering complaints he may make silenced to just Z'tan.
Willing? That might be a stretch, if she is just happening to angle a wing to send a snowdrift on her least favorite bronzerider, Well that’s Chauth for you. Fortunately for Zel however, the slush ball collides with it’s target, sending Tanit springing a good two feet into the air with a squeal as ice and slush finds its way into the atrocity that is the orange scarf. CUE wing tip in three, two one….
Well, no one ever gave Zel the title of 'smartest bronzerider' either, so he certainly is paying no attention to Chauth's trap - instead cackling as Tanit goes flying, taking advantage of her distraction to close the distance - heedless of his impending doom. Ysgie? Well, he is definitely no help, curled up as he is, still complaining about snow. Because ugh, snow.
The snowdrift sloshes down and there is a glow of pride from the pale queen. Of course Tanit is too busy trying to extract the ice from her scarf to take any kind of pride or gloating in her lifemate’s accomplishment. Any hope of the pranks being a Weyrling phase is three turns past. “Damnit, now I’m going to have to go get changed and find something warm to drink Z’-“ Hm. Is that Z’tan or a snowdrift?
"Rude." Zel mutters as he shifts, shaking off the snow - the leathers perhaps being warm but doing nothing about the -wet- that snow brings to the party. "What a -terrible- fate.." He murmurs as he finally gets to his feet, brushing off the rest of the snow, hands going to his hips to stare at Tanit. "What an absolutely, terrible fate. From just -one- snowball even. I don't think there are enough warm drinks in the world, thank you Chauth." Rude.
Chauth chuffs in the bronzerider’s face her pleasure made known. Still the scarf is being untangled already as Tanit starts taking long strides in the direction of the hotsprings and the stair well that leads back to the warmth and safety of the weyr. “You should be used to that kind of thing by now?” Hiding a wry twist of her smile and trying very hard not to laugh. “I think there’s still some Klah left before we have to make the next supply order at least.”