As Carrier Pidgeons Say [Bre]

[jack]

The air was just perfect today, wasn't it? Brisk, yet not too cold, with breezes just strong enough to be uplifting but not so much that they filled Chikaneth's wings just to send her spiraling off in some other direction. Not that she didn't do that for herself, from time to time.

"Slow down abit, Chikie--you don't want to go past it."
Oh fine, fine, S'bet of Mine! She chortled in reply, pulling up her speed with a flare of her wings before spinning up into the sky, diving down delicately.

S'bet seemed unnerved by her graceful antics, a gentle touch to her mind and a shift of his bodyweight directing her to a different place a moment later. She spiraled down slowly at his command, her attention on a particular ledge. Gently, with the control of a ballet dancer, she touched down, folding her wings gracefully as she walked in a bit, knelt, and let S'bet slide off. The moment he touched the ground, she was already exploring, scenting out the nearest people for her to meet.

Hey, hey, Mine! Its a pretty people! She announced, spying the Weyrwoman and skipping over merrily, her eyes whirling an eager green nearly as bright as her freckles, Hi! I'm Chikaneth! Quick on the Green's heels, S'bet tucked his riding helmet under one arm, shooing his partner a little bit further away from Fajra before falling into a quick bow, "Sorry for the intrusion, ma'am. My name is S'bet." He reached into his jacket, pulling out a small pile of papers before offering them to the Queenrider, "These are my transfer papers, I believe you have spoken with Ithari about them."

With a pleasant smile he inclined his head again, Chikaneth swaying happily behind him, "It is a pleasure to be in your service, Ma'am. I have been told I have a gift for delivering things, and it is something I take great pride in. If you ever have use of me, I would be most honored."

[Admin]

It's not as cold out here,
But come quick, I am losing feeling,
Kill the messenger,
I swear it's not me.

Fajra had gotten away from Kalith for a time. The last thing she had been expecting was to be greeted directly by a prancing, cheerful green. Well, it wasn't the last thing. It merely had ranked somewhere around a renegade attack, which wasn't likely to occur. Things had been quiet, but not ominously. There were flutters, but nothing dangerous. Them doing stupid things. She blinked at Chikaneth. On instinct and knowledge, she brushed out at Kalith, checking, entirely prepared. The copper was still sleeping. That was for the best. She disliked other dragons she didn't know and like speaking to her rider, and she wasn't in the best of moods with intrusions on her eggs and sharing the sands.

The Weyrwoman made no reply to the green before the talkative dragon was bustled away by a boy. She peered just down at the barely shorter but noticeably younger rider as he spoke. She took the papers he offered over his formal manners, though it was nice to see that he had them. She listened to him speak as he flipped through them, eyes checking for what was needed. Ithari of Eastern had spoken about transferring a messenger of a greenrider to her. She didn't truly need a messenger. She needed wingriders who could fight when thread came. Still, he seemed like he might be able to do both. She lowered the papers slightly and sized him up. He spoke well. His abilities seemed to be likely.

"Yes, welcome to Dalibor. You have a weyr on the southern face, three-quarters down, halfway up;" Fajra informed him curtly. She didn't speak like him. She wasn't delivering messages. She was issuing orders, with her clipped and icy voice. "You may take messages for whoever you like. You are required to take messages for all wingseconds, wingleaders, Weyrwomen, Weyrleaders, candidatemasters, and weyrlingmasters. Priorities are not set on rank, but priority, which is usually determined by me. Stand up for yourself." She continued on with her eyes locked with his. She was giving him respect. There was no warm welcome. "Get settled in;" she advised. Then turned to go. Kalith stirred.

That keeps eyelashes falling,
And wishes washed away,
Kill the messenger,
I swear it's not me.

[jack]

As Fajra spoke, giving a quick explanation of her rules of his "trade", S'bet listened keenly, still deep enough in the messaging-mode to not zone out as he ordinarily would. Chikaneth also was being abnormally well-behaved for being on the ground, her haunches firmly pressed against the stone as she curled her tail around herself, only allowing a quick look around the weyr--for other people--before she too was attentive and interested.

"Thank you very much, Weyrwoman." The Greenrider replied, giving a quick inclination of his head before backing up politely, "We greatly appreciate your welcome. Good day, ma'am." With another short dip of his head he turned on his heel and walked off, Chikaneth following on his heels after a quick, short and quiet whistle of farewell. With a quick mount the Green launched off of the ledge, diving down a bit like a rock before shooting up into the air and heading to where their new home would be.

I like this place, S'bet! There are people!
There are people everywhere that we would go, Chikie.
Yeah..but not everywhere as a pretty people!
If you say so.