Closed doors, closed windows {RUIN!!/OPEN}

If only Kisk had known his exuberance was causing issues within the Weyr—had been causing issues, and was about to cause them again, but he couldn’t. None of them could. The stone down here did not echo so full was it of miscellaneous goods and buried beneath the depths of the Weyrwall, so the faint voices of speaking folk within the room were drowned out easily by the noise of firelizard and the mental touch of the Wher himself.

”Shards,” Sebol hissed with exasperation as the door was closed on them for what had to be the fourth time—it wasn’t even like they were down here all that often, but every single time they had been locked in one of the rooms. Sebol had found Xiro’el during the first occurrence in early Fall, Kalenna had rescued the pair during the next just prior to the fire, then again when it had happened for a third time before the cold months had crept up on them. By this point they were all in agreement that there was something more than just addled drudges or doors that needed oiling going on.

Sigard appeared near his head suddenly, chittering in agitation. Yes, again silly Blue, again. This time, however, the ex-Herder knew there had to be a culprit that was still close, so he sent the Blue between and up the stone corridor chasing after whomever had decided to suddenly lock them in. Even through the thickness of the walls Sebolaren could hear the challenging bugle that the Blue barked into the depths. Who had locked his two-legger away? What was this madness?

Turning away from the door to look at his blood-brother with pursed lips, Sebol rolled his eyes. ”Now my perfect record of being at the Stands every night will be tarnished—what will Couineth think? It isn’t faiiir!” Hoping that the joke would alleviate the situation—Xiro’el had to be basically used to this by now, right? Sebol stalked closer to his friend and Cyanrider, reaching past him for the glow basket. ”At least we’ve taken to bringing more glows than we need, could be daylight in here for as bright as it is—don’t you go trying to kiss me while we’re trapped down here, I’m on to your tricks.”

Kire was so pleased with their work that she was very almost skipping down the hall. She turned and frowned back at the corridor when she heard a firelizard’s bugle but shrugged her shoulders. Turning forward she actually screamed as a blue seemed to jump at her face. Vesta darted forwards at the firelizard to scold him but a little too late. He had flown at Kire’s face. Kire screamed softly and covered her face with her arms, dropping to the ground.
“No you are a bad firelizard! Stop!”

Kisk, meanwhile, had stopped when the firelizard had appeared and done nothing more except cock his head to the side in confusion at the barrage of images to assault his mind. Nope! Don’t know. Nope, no, no. He waggled his tail though until the flitt launched itself at BestKire and then immediately whined unhappily.
NO THAT BAD! THAT BESTKIRE YOU NO HURT! NO! THAT NOT PLAY. NOT MEAN MY BESTKIRE!

For the first time in his whole short life, Kisk was angry. He hissed softly and growled a quiet puppy growl as Kire dropped to the ground and then moved to stand between His BestKire and the assailant. Vesta had also taken a more aggressive stance and threw herself at the bad firelizard. Kire, had she not been fearing for her life (Yes she was) would have found it intensely curious that Kisk had taken this stance and, indeed, probably calmed him down.

YOU BAD FIRELIZARD! BESTVEST BETTER.
Kisk wasn’t sure what this thing wanted but any creature that flew into BestKire’s face wasn’t being nice and would have to go through him. This, as far as he was concerned, was not playing at all. BestVest certainly didn’t play with people by throwing herself at their faces. Bad firelizard! Kisk hissed again and backed up against Kire protectively.