Reonth's Flight and Aftermath

Ierne Weyrhold - Book Place

The door swings easily on its hinges, at last, and the walls are painted brightly in blue, except for one corner, which is yellow. The floor matches the walls, blue carpet for the majority, but yellow tiling in that one corner. The windows are sparklingly clean, the shutters long since repaired and painted the same this-paint-was-on-special blue as the interior. Glows are scattered throughout the store, seemingly randomly, providing a homey atmosphere, as well as a casual one.

The store counter is by the door, no-one gets in or out without passing it, and it has a good view of the rest of the store. The rest of the front half of the store - front two thirds, actually - is taken up by rows and rows of blue shelving, one half carrying brand spanking new books, and the other carrying the loaner books, very much a 'pre-loved' set. The yellow corner in back has another counter, also yellow, with a cheery klah pitcher, and an assortment of pastries. To get to the counter, one must pass the tables and chairs also scattered in this area, which is clearly delineated and separated from the book section. The opposite back corner is more cosy, sea-green pillows strewn about, and big, soft, comfy chairs, as well as dimmer glows.

People: A'dar, Aoriya, D'son, F'yr, L'ren, S'dan.
Dragons: Cyrilth, Inimeth, Reonth, Zaruath, Zeituth.

L'ren is working in the store today, humming to himself. For once, Reonth is in the marketplace outside his store, rather than down on the beach. She's taken on a glow all of a sudden, but L'ren seems oblivious. He's a little jumpy, but he keeps muttering something along the lines of "not for another week. Relax. Not for another week."

Not a frequent visitor to Ierne, D'son nevertheless is here today, with a paper in hand, mumbling under his breath as he comes through the door. The paper seems to have some kind of list on it, which probably explains what he's doing here. Inimeth is left outside, streeetching out in the marketplace in the sun. But hell-o, cutie. He spots Reonth's glow and his mind opens up like lavender blooming in the sun, a questing green vine tendril sliding her way to test the waters. « Hello there! Isn't it a lovely day out? »

S'dan comes in, pulls off goggles and helmet and and scarf in almost angry motions. Then he stops to take a deep breath. This is supposed to be a fun thing for him. First on his list…poetry. He looks about slowly along the shelves, getting the lay of the land to see what is shelved where.

Cyrilth shakes out his wings. This place is a whole lot nicer than that other place his rider keeps gping to and doesn't like. Even the dragons seem nicer…..Oh, look, pretty green.

F'yr's last visit to Ierne was an interesting one, which is why the brownrider is very reluctant in being there today. But she looks like she actually has a mission, those her eyes keep scanning the marketplace crowd anxiously from the entrance of the bookstore. "I'll only be gone for a moment," she says loud enough to the brown dragon that wasn't too far off. Zaruath makes sure to lay in the shadow of two buildings, trying to hide, though his whirling eyes were taking in everything. Another brief pause and Fy finally makes her way inside, gazing about the bookstore and intent to find help.

A'dar's concerns, and the reason he's at Ierne in the first place, are more material than books, granted. But there may be some clockmaking books here that he could look through. Nothing like the Xanadu clocktower was in any of his books, so he is basically having to scale up smaller clocks. And he isn't at all sure it's going to work. So…perhaps he could find some information about the kind of work he's trying to do. He's left Zei in the Marketplace outside as he enters, pausing just inside the door to look about the place.

L'ren blinks a little, and jumps up, rushing over to see to his customers. Customers? He has customers! "Ah, hello, hello. Need a hand, anybody?" he asks, moving from D'son to S'dan to F'yr and to A'dar. Three of them seem to have at least some idea of what they're after, so he settles on F'yr, though he's glancing to the others now and then, ready to hop to if needed. "Hey. Need a ..hand?" he offers, with a nervous smile. Reonth warbles brightly, a cheerful bubbling sound. « Hey. It's lovely out, I agree, but it'd be even lovelier to go for a swim, don't you think? » she croons to Inimeth, tilting her little green head at Cyrilth with a cheery, « Nice day for a flight, isn't it? » and then Zeituth gets a « Race you to the water! » as Reonth stretches her wings and prepares for flight. The green, for the moment, doesn't notice the hiding Zaruath.

D'son looks up at L'ren's approach and lifts his list. "Good day, I uh — yeah, just need to take a look around." He smiles once, briefly and gets his bearings, steps towards a likely looking shelf and starts to wander along, looking at the spines of the books and comparing titles against those on his list. "What? No, c'mon Inimeth … no …" he mutters under his breath, trying to concentrate on what he's doing. Inimeth pushes up to his feet happily and reaches out again, mind awash with warm sun and fields full of flowers. « Hey, yeah! I like swimming. And it's fun to fly out over the water! » All bouncy sociability from the young bronze. His wings flip open, stretch wide as Reonth's do, merriment flickering in his mind at the other greetings and challenges issued.

S'dan raises a finger and asks in a soft voice, "Poetry section, please?" He coughs a little to clear his voice. "I'm looking for something with romantic poems….the heavy type, the rip out your heart, throw it on the ground and stomp on it romantic poems." From outside Cyrilth drops his head and makes a growling kind of moan. But the cheery green, she knows better! He raises his head to make a friendly warble at her. Sure, it sounds like gravel in a mixing barrel, but it's warm and friendly just the same.

A'dar blinks, tilting his head to the side slightly as L'ren stands. "Do you…have any books with diagrams of clocks built on a large scale?" he inquires. Of course, he waits until L'ren is free, so as not to be rude. There were others here before him, so he should wait his turn. Zeituth had been keeping an eye out for items that A'dar might find usefullatches, pins, and the likewhen he notices the glowing green. His eyes whirl in an amused fashion at her greeting. « You have yourself a challenge! » he projects to Reonth. If a dragon could grin, he would be. And he too stretches his wings, preparing for the chase. Back in the book place, A'dar blinks, and goes very still. "Oh no…" he mutters under his breath. Another flight. Why was it that every time he came to Ierne, somebody's green was rising…?

F'yr runs a hand nervously through her hair as L'ren approaches, bobbing her head quickly. Her eyes turn towards D'son for a moment in shock but she's quick to get to business as well. "Yah, I need a bit. Just here to pick up a book for Mom, Rupa? She has some books on reserve, said that you're the only place she'd get them at." As a former Iernite, her greenrider mother used to frequent the bookstore. She swallows hard, glances out towards the exit and then giggles nervously. "But you know, if I can just grab them and go, promise I'll pay for them later." Zaruath, of course, will have do no such thing as getting up and leaving. He does get up, sending a quick glare after Inimeth and a huff before his eyes finally lock onto Reonth with a low pleasant growl. «The water, my dear? Is that really where you want to go?» Not that the brown will complaining, spreading his dark sails out and quivering as they wait for takeoff.

Aoriya slips into the store, moving to the text books section. Omasuth is seated outside, totaly and utterly bored. The brown spots Reonth and his eyes begin to turn purple, a vivid bright plum shade. He moves towards the other dragons, his steps turning to struts. Aoriya sits down near the textbook shelf. "Here it is… Advanaced Smithing Techniques, journeyman year two." She begins looking for two or three more books. "Now I need 'working with gold, a journeyman's guide.'"

L'ren nods a little at D'son, blinking absently, then throwing a sharp glare to the door. "But, no… not for another /week/…" Hrm. He shakes his head, probably nothing, right? Best work /quickly/, though. "Er, poetry?" he murmurs at S'dan, blushing slightly. "R-romantic? Right. Over, er, there." he points at a shelf, then quickly bustles away to direct A'dar, "Ah. Technical manuals, over on these shelves," he leads A'dar to them personally. Techncal manuals are safe, yes. There's a bob of his head for F'yr, and he waves over the man on the counter. "Borren! Books for Rupa?" he calls, and the younger man nods, moving off into the stock room. And then, well, then he has to have a sit down. He heads to the back corner, and flops down on the cushion. "I'll, er, be with you shortly!" he calls to Aoriya, frowning. Reonth warbles at all the interested dragons, and flutters her wings experimentally. « Yes. The water. I would like to fly /over/ the water. » she decides, simply /launching/. Her heading does take her towards the beach, but right now she's trying more for altitude than distance.

Clocks. Smiths. D'son's head pulls back and he peeks through the shelves. "That's over here," he tells Aoriya informatively. Advanced section," he says and clears his throat. There's another low-voiced mutter that follows likely directed at Inimeth and then he spots Fy through the books. "Hey Fy," he calls over and walks down a few more paces, frowning. "Should be right here …" he says about whatever it is he's looking for. Outside Inimeth is ignoring his rider, totally keyed into Reonth, eyes gone through and through in a bright lavender shade. « Then let's go, lovely! Show us what you've got and let's catch some spray! » The bronze is just a wingbeat or two behind her, eager to get into the air and out over the water himself, not bothering to keep it to himself. Off Inimeth goes, wings beating strongly, following Reonth up and up, while he shares with her some memories of patrols along Istan shores, the crash of waves on black sand beaches. Here he doesn't know so well, but right now, he /totally/ wants to! Won't she show him? Er. Them?

Aoriya frowns. "Oma you didn't….." Too late, the fire patterned brown leaps into the skies after Reonth. WOOSH SWOOSH. The brown angles almost straight up after the seaweed green. "… too late… he did…" To L'ren. "Take your… er… time." She tells L'ren, blushing hugely. "Something tells me I'll be awhile." Omasuth bugles ecstatically as he chases after Reonth, crooning sweetly to her. «Of course, the sea is such a lovely place, and the water is so soothing the way it heaves back and forth.»

A'dar offers a polite, friendly nod of greeting to those others here, most of whom he doesn't know. He gives a nod as L'ren leads him to the technical manuals, offering a "Thank you." And then resolutely tries to ignore Zeituth's continued interest in the glowing green lady. It doesn't work. He gives a bit of a groan. "…All right…" he mutters, giving a resigned sigh. "…Bah." His attention mentally turns to Zeituth, though; the blue's been such a big help to him in building the tower. The least he can do is devote his attention to his lifemate, so the blue won't get distracted. To Reonth, Zeituth projects, « That sounds lovely! » He bugles happily as Reonth launches into the air, and quickly follows. He stays steady and strong in the air for now, conserving his energy for later on in the flight. And his eyes follow the green's movements carefully as she flies, planning, calculating, strategizing….

F'yr winces a bit at the call from L'ren, glancing nervously at him and then back towards the exit. She's shuffling on her feet, as if deciding whether she can wait for the books or if she should just run out already. "Hey… Dels," she calls softly, raising a hand briefly with a slightly distracted look. She leaves him to his browsing, waiting on her own books instead "Aw, shells," she mutters, smacking a hand to her forehead and letting out a defeated groan. Because outside Zaruath lets out a hiss to the other challengers and then pushes off the ground, beating his large wings to gain momentum. «Then the water it is, my dear, and we can catch your glow on it no matter the height.» His voice is a low murmur, a caress over the mind, and his focus is mainly on keeping up, beating his wings for help before an ocean breeze fills his sails and he soars up.

L'ren pales, and mutters, quickly standing again and eyeing the corner of the store. Luckily he apparently /prepared/ for this eventuality, as the rear corner - the corner with the cushions and comfy reading chairs - has a curtain, which he now draws closed. There's really nothing to stop anyone coming in behind the curtain, but at least it provides /some/ privacy? Borren, the man from the counter, returns with Rupa's books, for F'yr, and notes the drawn curtain, moving over and flipping the sign on the door from open to closed, before slipping out himself. The young man makes no move to shoo anyone else, though. Reonth is enjoying the freedom of flight, warbling brightly like a glowing green siren. « Follow me, boys! » she croons, pushing up up up and out to sea. « If you can /catch/ me, that is! » she teases, snaking her head around briefly to eye her chasers, then hissing when her flightpath swerves as a result. No, no, no, that's all wrong. She swings her head back around to the sea, and turns sharply back onto her intended path.

Aoriya moves over to the curtained area, but sits down just outside. She leans back and lets Omasuth take over. «You bet!» Omasuth carols, floating liesurely higher and higher after Reonth. The ocean breezes fill his wings like the sails of an old time clipper ship. «Lead on beautiful green, I will follow you /anywhere/.» Omasuth purrs. The fire patterned brown beats his wings, amplifying the momentum given him by the ocean breezes.

Eyes close for a moment as D'son catches his breath, seems to struggle for a moment more, then sighs, tucks the book back onto the shelf, his list into his pocket and comes around the end of the shelf. His eyes flick this way, then that marking where L'ren went and then Borren. His gaze lingers on Fy for a moment and he holds out a hand to her. "C'mon?" he suggests, apparently intending to head for curtainsville in a moment. A green siren has totally captivated Inimeth at least, his tendrils curling around her every word and pulling them in close to his heart. Look at her, her hide, the way she moves! Can he catch her? Oh he /wants/ to, he does. The sun catches on burnished bronze hide as he puts on another burst of speed, building it up slowly. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to be the type who favors a lot of daredevil moves that are harder for a larger dragon to keep up with. It's straight up, then straight out, except for that swerve so far. And so does Inimeth go, taking advantage of the lack of acrobatics to put on the accelerator and close some serious distance between them. « Anywhere, I'd follow you anywhere. » And he gives back to her, her reflection in the waves, crinkled by seafoam and the feeling of a tail-tip skimming the waves, even if it's a memory and not an actuality.

F'yr is probably the palest there, shaking her head slowly. Her eyes follow Borren, though, watch as he brings her books out with what might be a bit of hope. And then the young man runs out and she stares after him with her mouth slightly agape. It's almost as if he locked them in there! "I'll… I'll be sure to take them, 'fore I go," she mumbles to L'ren, starting to look quite distracted, though she can't help keep her eyes from returning to the old greenrider. She moves closer towards D'son but doesn't take his hand, instead narrowing her eyes briefly up at him as her dragon starts to take over. Zaruath's wings take him higher than the green, though he sticks close by with his voice rumbling deeply in his chest. More like mimicing the crashing waves on the shore. «As if any of these dragons here could tame you, my dear. The ocean makes her choice at the end.» And he'll show her that his patience and determination is a likely candidate, keeping away from any stunts and maneuvers and shadowing her from above instead. If a chaser got close, he'd whip his tail out at them, hoping for sabotage.

A'dar finds himself wandering over to that curtained-off alcove. He makes sure he's out of everyone's way, so he won't have to think about moving until the flight is over. That done, his eyes become a little glassy as he lends what mental facilities he can to Zeituth's chase of Reonth. One, two. One, two. One, two. Like clockwork, Zeituth's wings beat as the tiger-striped blue assesses the current flight situation. He takes in the position of the green in the air relative to his own, the position of each of her potential suitors in relation to both himself and to her…and plans possible paths he can take around them. He keeps pace with the chasers, but makes certain he's got enough room to make his move when it's time. Zeituth follows Reonth over the water, riding the sea breezes to conserve energy. Matching her moves, fluidly as the water that provides the backdrop for this thrilling chase. If she is a siren, Zeituth is a hapless sailor, caught inexorably in her song. Follow he must…and follow he does. Wherever she leads. He is quiet and focused on the chase, on the way she moves, on the tempting vision of her flying in front of him, glowing like the sun setting on the sea…and on how he can catch the lovely emerald siren! He maintains a largely straight path, the shortest distance between where he is where she is. Though for the time being, he's having to stay just out of range of Zaruath's lashing tail. He doesn't waste the energy to hiss at the brown, just keeps his eyes on the lady of the chase.

L'ren is just sitting in the back corner, leaned forward, with his head in his hands. This is all … wrong! "This is a place of business!" he mutters at Reonth, a half-strangled groan punctuating his complaint. Reonth ignores the man, yes. Flight is the thing, and flight is all that she notices right now. « /Any/where? » she decides to test Inimeth once they come out over water, suddenly tucking her wings and diving! When she flicks her wings out again and straightens her path, she's low over the water, wingtips trailing in it on each downward stroke. There's a falter and a surprised warble at Zaruath's comments, but she recovers, pulling upwards at last. « Well put! » she asserts, not quite the snappiest comeback, though her mind is tiring quickly, as is her glowing seaweed-green body. All her effort is put into the /up/, must climb /higher/!

Omasuth growls, diving after Reonth. He dives, executing a daring plunge and cuts abruptly and swiftly into Reonth's path, attempting to intercept and snatch the green before any of the males even get close. His careful calculation has him darting after her, «Not tamed, Reonth dear. Caught, but not tamed.» The brown growls, spreading his flaming sails for balence and swiping to try and catch the seaweed green.

D'son gives Fy's shoulder a little squeeze instead and starts to step around the curtain. He eyes L'ren apologetically and clears his throat. "Sorry, sir," he murmurs politely and shoves his hands in his pockets. Waiting. Inimeth's mind flares brightly with pretty greens, the blossoming scent of lavender and happy amazement at that dive. Yes! « Anywhere! » he carols back to her, tucks wings and dives after. Flick, out they go again to keep him from crashing right into the salty waves and this time, his tail really does skim through seafoam, the thought shared again. He has to dodge Omasuth a little, swinging to the side and his wings beat once, twice to lift him up again, bringing him just slightly above the green in the moment where he senses that tiring in her mind. « Up here … » he suggests. « And then there can be swimming, not too long from now. » Along with that, the sensation of cool water, the pleasantness of splashing down and winding around and around in the waves. « Up here … » it's invitation, temptation towards that sea she loves so well and promise of relief from that tiredness in her mind.

A'dar is quiet as his dragon, still and silent, with a vaguely calculating look upon his face. Seems he too is considering the flight, perhaps calculating with his dragon. He tenses, though, as he senses Zeituth's move. And in the air over the water, Zeituth senses Reonth tiring. The blue does not sweep back down, however, but maintains his place in the air. Up 'till this point, he has been waiting, watching, letting her and the other chasers tire, until it's time to make his move. The beautiful green siren of the lake is going up, and up, and up…Zeituth knows that she must eventually come down. And so it is that he finally taps into the energy that he had so carefully conserved from the beginning of the chase. All out, full on flight now, wings beating like mad, the love-struck sailor caught in the siren's spell. Must go to the siren, must catch, no matter the obstacles! The blue moves only as much in his arrow-straight flight as needed to dodge the other potential suitors, claws extended, ready to nab and enwrap the lady of the lake. Every bit of speed, every bit of mind, every bit of awareness is focused on Reonth. She is the whole world right now, this beautiful siren and the merry chase she's led.

F'yr tenses up at the squeeze and bares her teeth in a very Zaruath way over to D'son. There's a snort and her eyes seem to focus entirely on L'ren now and no one else, not even to give anyone else a glare for coming in too close to her. She is at least sensible enough to stick by the other Istan, just in case. Zaruath's mind mimics the foamy blue texture of the ocean out at Reonth, still continuing with that vocal rumbling and now adding his own melodious mental hum. A flight he can actually enjoy, with the sea breeze and the space away from the others. He spills air, dropping altitude as if he were going to dive and yet only dropping a little bit. Because what goes down must eventually come up— well, not quite right, but that's what this brown was going to do, await her return. There's a pleased warble from him as she climbs again, amused. «Returning to the sea without me, my dear?» He strains muscles as he puts on speed now for her, hoping to intercept, a harpoon aimed straight with his talons stretched out in hopes to welcome her wild embrace.

L'ren blinks at D'son, he'd clearly forgotten there were people present. A blush spreads across the older man's cheeks, and he shakes his head, muttering a gruff, "Not your fault." No. It's Reonth's. The green screeches at Omasuth's attempt to catch her. « No, /neither/. You would /catch/ me, cage me, like a beast! » she cries out defiantly, swerving to avoid the brown. Inimeth's temptation spiel seems to be working, as there's a weary warble. « Swimming? I'd like that. » she croons, and, for just a moment, the green is chasing the bronze. She werves again to avoid Zeituth, and so it is that Zaruath takes her completely by surprise, and she snarls as the Istan brown snares her, hissing and writhing with her final strength, not nearly sufficient to break free. L'ren looks up at last, then says just one word before the flight takes over completely, "Sorry."

Aoriya gasps. "OMA!" The brown misses, making a headlong splash landing. His risky move has cost him, and the brown twists, barely managing a safe water landing. He turns and swims back towards the shore to cool off, growling and glaring behind him at Zaruath before making for the beaches. Aoriya stands and pays L'ren's assistant for the books and bolts. "Maybe Tonny will…." is the last thing audible as she goes out the door.

D'son's eyes fall closed, brows wrinkling as Inimeth puts his all into it and he's actually kind of taking a half-step forward when … his eyes snap open, hazy and punch-drunk from flight. "Shells …" he whispers and his to pull himself backward, a step at a time and then out the door, shopping trip forgotten, only a single backward look for Fy. Sploosh goes Inimeth too, seeking out those cool waters for his own relief now as the twining pair go flying past.

Zeituth turns quickly, only just avoiding the same fate as Omasuth. The trailing edge of his wing drags in the water, almost pulling him down; however, he manages to keep his altitude, and sails back over the lake, back to the marketplace. Shards. Missed again. Sending a mental encouragement to Zeithe blue did his best, after allA'dar makes for the exit to the place. He does, however, remember the books. He picks up the one he needs, and, fumbling a bit with a belt pouch, takes out the required price. This he sets on the counter, then tucks the book he selected under his arm and departs the store quickly and quietly. Hopefully Zei has the energy left to get back to Xanadu. "…Shells, I hate flights…" he mutters as he exits.

Zaruath's surprise is well hidden, because as soon as that green comes into his waiting talons the rest of him reels her in. Tails twining, wings locking, and his most gentle of croons to the little green as he slowly glides them out over the waves together. F'yr, for the most part, actually has a look of triumph. Little does she know she'll not be happy about it later, as the flight has taken over and the petite teen finds her way behind the curtains eventually with L'ren.

L'ren stirs a little to find himself laying on cushions in the darkness, and he mutters under his breath, getting up and stumbling out to the main part of the store, and through to the stock room, to find the spare glowbaskets. At the moment he's not quite aware of what happened earlier, but he'll figure it out. He blinks a little and peers about the store when he finally emerges from the stock room. "Huh, how did… Reonth?" Aw, no. He groans, and eyes the curtained off area. He mutters, and gets to replacing glows /around/ that area, blushing and muttering.

It's the muttering that seems to drag F'yr out of whatever happy place she was trying to cling onto. She mutters herself, something about Zaruath and stupid dragons and… "Dels?" she calls out loud enough. The most likely word to come out of her mouth, except there's probably a much more satisfied dragon in her mind right now. "Oh /Faranth/," comes her low groan, and then a pillow goes over her head to muffle some very colorful loud curses. She doesn't even realize she's lacking clothes until she throws the pillow off and gives the area a look around, trying to get her thoughts together.

L'ren seems to have at least thrown pants on at some point, probably a set he keeps in the stock room for situations like this. And Borren laughed at his 'emergency pants'. Ha! He hears the call for Dels from beyond the curtain, and clears his throat. "Um. No Dels here." he calls back, frowning at the curtain. "Ah, I'm, er. Sorry. Reonth, I… She wasn't /due/ to rise." And then he mutters, "Happy turnday to /me/." in a decidedly not cheerful tone.

F'yr blushes darkly, to the root of her hair, when the voice replies from the other side of the curtain. Not that L'ren can really tell. But there is a bit of squeaking that might be her trying to get her voice to work, and then throat clearing… And finally the short girl scampers away from the cushions towards her discarded clothes, hastily trying to get something over her. The teen pokes her red face out, as if to check to see if L'ren was real before squeaking again. "But… But you're old!" Let's point out the obvious, her face then drains of color and her face disappears behind the curtain again.

"It, it was just… a flight." L'ren mutters, shaking his head, and grimacing. He moves over to the other rear corner, and pours himself a mug of klah, plopping down into a seat to drink it and scowl at the curtains. "I am /well/ aware of my own age, /thankyou/!" he snaps. Feeling old today. "And what are you, still a weyrling?" he asks. Wouldn't be the /first/ time.

F'yr snorts from behind the curtain, and from her muttering there's a louder. "Yah, just a flight, stupid Ierne and Zaruath and…" Eventually Fy has to face the outside world, which means getting out from behind the curtain. At least she is fully dressed as she comes through, still looking out of it and not bothering to do anything with her hair. "I'm not a weyrling," huffs Fy, some pink returning to her face as she refuses to meet his face. "Don't old people and their dragons, you know, stop /flying/? Aw, Faranth, the shop was empty right?" Because Fy suddenly looks extremely uncomfortable and embarrassed, looking around at the aisles.

L'ren shakes his head slowly, and holds up the klah pot as F'yr emerges, a silent offer. "Hey, I might be old, but I'm not /dead/. Don't recall you complaining earlier." Well, no, but that was a flight, it hardly counts. "The shop was empty, thankfully. No-one but riders. Didn't really see what happened to the other chasers." He was … distracted. "Figure they left. Dragons to console, consolation to, er, seek." Yep. Not that he knows about losing, riding green. He seems to be fairly accepting of flights, having ridden green for over thirty turns. The door starts to open with a creak, but L'ren roars, "Shop's closed, come back tomorrow!" and it hastily closes again.

F'yr scowls at him at the reminder. "I /would/ have been if it weren't for Zaruath and…" She shudders. "It's just… Ew." Tact, Fy definitely lacks it. She seems to consider the offer and looks for a cup for the klah, happy to have something warm and familiar instead. But she is still shuffling her feet, eyes darting towards the exit of the shop momentarily. "They… hopefully left fast." She swallows hard, clears her throat again, and then jumps at the greenrider's yell. "Shells, trying to kill me," she snaps now, putting a hand to her chest. "I… I guess you need to open up your business again."

L'ren actually looks a little apologetic now. "I… Sorry. The, the shop can wait. Borren's not back yet anyway." Unless that /was/ Borren. "They usually leave fast, trying to get out before… Before." he blushes a little, and scowls at his klah, nodding absently to the mugs on the counter. "I, um. Where are my manners? I'm, er, L'ren." Yes, Weyrlord L'ren. "And, er. That, earlier, was Reonth. And this," he spreads his arms a little, "is my store." He finishes, with a nod. Awkward.

F'yr stares at the door as if trying to will Borren back inside. Though after that yell she wouldn't be surprised if he went into hiding as well. "It looks like a lot of people like to come… here… for stuff." She covers her face with a hand, scrubbing hard, and then reaches towards the mugs before moving back to get some klah. "Right. L'ren." She might have known that before, bobbing her head as she half-listens, her blue eyes looking around here and there. And then she clears her throat again, realizing she should return the favor. "F'yr. Zaruath's the… the happy one." Because she definitely wasn't. She rubs the back of her neck awkwardly and starts a slow shuffle-walk towards the door.

L'ren frowns a little, and glances around. "Not as many as you'd think. Been unusually busy lately." He frowns at the door absently. "Er. I, er… I'm sorry F'yr. About the flight. If I'd known she was going to rise, I, er, wouldn't have /been/ here." he scowls, and eyes the door. He'd have been holed up in his weyr, most likely. "There… anything I can do? Anything at all?" he asks, frowning about the store. "Free books? What, what did you come here for, again?" Most of before is a blur, really.

F'yr looks even more uncomfortable after L'ren's apology, toeing the ground for amoment as she pauses in her escape. "It's, uh, not /your/ fault… Ierne's just bad luck—well, good luck for Zaruath. He's… He's happy he's actually /catching/ now." Which makes her face light up all red again. She drops her chin and glares to the ground briefly. "No, it's… Free?" Blink. "Aw, shells! Mom's books." And she has to shuffle back again closer. "Mom will kill me if I don't bring her the books she ordered."

L'ren nods slowly, and frowns at the door. "Well, if he's /happy/, that's … good? Right?" he says, hesitantly. "Ah. Well, I think, Borren would've brought them out?" he frowns, trying to think back to the flight-distracted mention of the books. "Check the, er, counter?" he suggests, with a frown. L'ren nods a little though, grimacing and looking about the store. "I, er. If… If you want anything, er, for you? As well, I mean." It's his turnday, but he's the one giving the gifts?

"Yah, good," F'yr says reluctantly, huffing out her breath and moving her hair out of her face as her eyes scan the counter. She moves that way now, nose in her klah, before turning to look over her shoulder at the greenrider. "They're here! And… well, can't take 'em all without paying you. I got marks Mom gave me." She pats at her pockets and jacket, back to blushing and mumbling to herself, though her eyes were trailing away from him towards the aisles. "Well, I… I could get whatever D'son was looking for. Did… did the bronzer that was in here ask for something specific?" Turndays? She's supposed to be nice to people on turndays?

L'ren frowns a little,and tries to think. He moves over to a shelf that he /thinks/ he saw D'son at, and frowns. "I… I don't know. I think he had a list? He was… browsing. By himself." And L'ren didn't want to interfere once he knew what was going on, bronzeriders and flights don't mix well for old Ren - he has no problem waking up next to another man, but bronzeriders tend to feel differently. There's a shake of his head, and he glances over to the young brownrider. "I can, er, write up a voucher, if you like? Not the same really, little bit more impersonal than a book, but, it's something?" he's looking a little flustered, and F'yr's youth seems to be a likely reason. She's a couple of turns younger than his youngest, it makes him feel kind of old and a little guilty.

F'yr hesitates a moment but still follows L'ren nonetheless. She keeps a bit of distance, gulping down large mouthfuls of klah. "So he didn't ask?" She looks a bit disappointed, glancing towards the titles, and then towards the other side. None seem to catch the brownrider's interest, but she's doing it to look for something that might have caught the bronzerider. "Yah…" Fy is more than flustered, she's just hoping to get out of the situation as fast as possible and probably drag the memory into the back of her mind with all the other forgetful ones. "Could he, um… could he exchange it? I could get him something about… machines. And Smiths." And obviously she doesn't really know much.

L'ren nods slowly, and glances to the shelves. "Certainly, certainly! Exchanges are… Good." He picks out three books from around where he /thinks/ D'son was, books that do seem to fit F'yr's classifications of machinery and Smith work, and hands them over to F'yr. "Er, here. I… I don't work in the shop usually." he points out, so returning should be less awkward? "My, er, son, Borren, does." That young man from before. "He's … good." Yes. Good. His new favourite word. He nods a little, and eyes the counter. "I… I'd best… get… work… thing." Right.

"Thanks… L'ren," F'yr says, clearing her throat some again as she takes the books. "Just one was… Well, maybe he'll like one of these. and exchange the others for something he does like. He's wanted to go back to the Smiths, probably was here to look for books to study from instead and—" Fy realizes she was rambling for the moment and goes back to her quieter uncomfortable self instead. "L'ren or Borren… to exchange. Got it." She tucks the books under her arm, drains her mug, and bobs her head. "I'll… uh, just pay for Mom's stuff." She fumbles with a pocket as she moves towards the counter now.

L'ren nods a little, and slips in behind the counter. "Well, you know where the store is… I, er, hope he likes them." Yes. "And, er, good luck, with the Smiths thing. I, er, went back to the Harpers after impressing, made journeyman. Best thing I ever did." He nods, actually kind of proud of that. It's his harper side that comes out most in the store, this is his pride and joy. He nods a little as F'yr fumbles for marks, not really arguing. The store is /already/ running at a loss, really. He'll get a talking to from Borren already, might as well minimise the damage. "I… Come back, er, soon. We do loans as well as sales, and trade-ins for used books." That last one is new, really.

F'yr glances down at the books in her hands after setting aside the mug of klah. "Yah, me too. Hope they aren't a bad choice but… but exchanges." She seems to be debating the choice of taking them or not, but at the end she adds them to the other books as well. "I… I don't do any craft. I like my Wing. But that's good." She winces at her own words, giving the store a last look around before pulling out several marks. Probably a few too many for just her mother's books, too. "I'll come back," she says, in a voice that almost suggests she might be lying. Unless she had another errand to run. "Er… Thanks… L'ren." And she picks up the stack, shifting them so that they're comfortable, and bobs her head at the greenrider as a farewell.

L'ren grimaces a little, and nods. "I … probably won't be here." he says, completely honestly. "But Borren is good." Yep. "I'll … Borren will exchange those, if needed." he says finally, frowning at the marks, and debating whether or not to give her change. He frowns, and passes several of the mark pieces back across the table, though he does accept the price of Rupa's books plus one of the Smith books. "I… Er. Bye." he says, lamely. Yay, awkward.

"No? Um… okay." Not that F'yr was really complaining, really. It was awkward enough. She clutches the book tighter to herself, bobbing her head. "Got it. Borren. Gotta remember that name," she mutters more to herself. Her hand reaches out for the change, but does not take it all. In fact, she does leave at least a little more, probably the price of one more book, not that she was really counting. And, flustered again, she turns to the exit. "Bye," she calls over her shoulder and scurries out. Weird! Time to find her happy dragon now.

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