And Suddenly, Frusha Was Gone Log

Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.

Tye walks into the caverns. Her arms, like normal, full of hidework and what not. The life of a Weyrlingmaster, even with only four weyrlings. "Shard it all, Palia. This next clutch is going to be a pain without your aid. Just these four are taxing me, and we have so few assistant weyrlingmasters this round… I may need to ask the wingleaders to allow be to pluck some from their ranks." The bluerider sighs, ambling towards the Tsunami table. "I could use a handful of older 'riders as well. Get all these youngins with delusions of rank and high expectations." She snorts and just shakes her head. "Why did'ja have to go and get that bloody new knot?" A glare goes to her greenrider companion, and more importantly, to the other woman's shoulder. Glaaare.

Shazi enters the living caverns, her offspring circling her in play.

"Weeeeelll," Palia begins to chant, rolling her eyes as she bounces up behind Tye, poking at the stack of hidework with her lower lip bitten. "Since /I'm/ a wingleader, you can ask /me/ for Assistants, ya know. Though… Ever since we stopped winning booze tassles, no one talks to me anymore." A light pout hits her bottom lip. "It wasn't my fault! T'ii thinks I'm great — Fantastic! That I deserved it! You think I deserved it… Don't you?" Sniffle! Way to guilt the woman. "I dunno. If everyone keeps bein' so mean to me, I might just have to give it back to Xayna… But T'ii said — well, he said I'd do a good job, so.. I am!" Or so she'd like to think. She moves her hands up to help take away some of the hidework and plop it on the table. And here she is, an Inferno Wingleader at the Tsunami table… Odd, everyone smiles and cheers at her. Is that normal?

S'ton enters shortly behind Shazi, but quickly separates himself. Offspring. Playing. S'ton's mess detectors go to high alert until he has circled well away from the youngsters. He considers the food, but apparently decides that klah is a safer alternative. True to Palia's words, he doesn't head in her direction either. In fact, he stands there looking at the cavern with an aura of wariness.

{All} Kyzhanth senses that Mynwiyath thinks In the recesses of your mind, somewhere, a light flicks out. It was a star, a guiding mark never really considered, but always present. From its death, a wash of pain, of sorrow, of overwhelming emptiness pours. Griellitath is gone. High Reaches Weyr has lost a queen.

Tye purses her lips closed, her eyes suddenly staring at the ceiling with Palia's question. "Erm… well… of course, Pals. I know you're great. Just, wingleader. Lots of responsibility. I've been there before and all. But yeah, you're a good wingleader." Coughcoughcough. The burning. "Pfft, forget that. Keep it. At least till you find someone to replace you. If you ever do. Don't have any hope for this last batch. Pretty useless." Tye shrugs, still not sitting yet, put slowly starting to drop her papers into nice, neat organized piles. And the other riders on the Tsunami table? They totally welcome the Inferno rider with open arms. Who wouldn't! "And that whole stupid tassel thing wa—" And Tye stops short. Her eyes going wide and unfocusing. And all those papers still in her arms rush to the table and floor. No longer any concern. "Oh… oh no." And there are no more words.

Shazi blanches as the roar of grief sounds. Her steps falter and her children shriek, not understanding the dragon's cries. She drops to one knee, holding her arms out for her babies, offering and hoping for comfort.

Rhaenyra is seated at a table, with a plate in front of her consisting of a half-eaten meatroll and picked-at veggies. Her gaze lifts to Tye and Palia's discussions. Her lips quirk upwards in a smile at the sight of Palia— and Palia's shiny shoulder knot— but she's quiet, typically, except for glancing up at nearby S'ton, who coincidentally is only a step or two away from her on the right. THEN the keening hits, and Rhaen hits her feet, bumping her knees and eyes wide. "What in Faran—-"

Palia, in seeing S'ton and Shazi, hides behind Tye as quickly as possiblealthough, he obviously spotted her, first. Her eyes drift to Tye though for a moment, as things begin to turn… Funny. What's that sound? Why does the back of her mind hurt? And then, it all makes sense, and the greenrider begins to cry. "Tyyyeeeeeee…" the woman begins to moan, as she feels her dragon outside beginning to do the same. Her hand clings to Tye, and she bites her lower lip, but it's no use. "She's she's—…" What's that supposed to mean? Who knows.

S'ton has lifted his klah mug to his mouth when he freezes. His fingers go nerveless and the mug falls unheeded from his hand to crack on the floor and spill over his boots as the rising sounds of draconic grief penetrate into the human-sized caverns. For that matter, Rhaenyra's boots might be in danger, too. "No…Griellitath," he says, eyes unfocused, most likely talking more to his dragon than the nearby Rhaenyra.

"No! /NO/!" Tye shouts out, raising her fist and SLAMMING it into the table, creating quite a dent and mauling her hand as well. But the pain of that is easily dismissed, as the pain from her dragon takes complete control of her mind and soul. "I'm sure… sure she's fine, Pals." But the words are clipped and full of sputters. As tears slowly start to form in the eyes of the bluerider. Grabbing at Palia's hand with her other, Tye squeezes with all she's worth. "Cause… cause she can't be. We… we /needed/ her." And then the sob is let out, harsh and jagged sounding, and the tears are held back no more.

Rhaenyra has klah on her boots, but she doesn't really mind; her eyes are focused in on S'ton, a look of pure bewilderedment upon her face. "Griellitath?" she replies, voice incredulous. Then, "/Frusha/? Are they gone ::between:: then?" She looks from S'ton to Tye and Palia and back again, eyes still wide as saucers.

Needed Frusha? Well, no. But Griellitath, even if a terrible egg layer, was still one of Reaches' only two golds… For a moment, Palia almost thinks it's Mynwiyath that's gone, but as Veriameth has an assessment of the situation outside, Palia figures it out quicker than she would on her own. "No.. No she's not. They're all not fine. Why— why can't I stop.." She bursts into sobs again, falling into one of Tsunami's chairs with her hands still clasped on her bluerider pal. "II" she turns to Rhaenyra as the question is posed, but by the look in her eyes, the answer is at least somewhat obvious. "Where did she go, Tye? She's not just de she's just — she's.. gone…" From a mind that works like a childs', it makes PERFECT sense.

Chey comes out of the caverns, looking like it might be her for whom the Weyr mourns. Her face is the ashen grey of death, and she looks sick-scared, as though she might vomit. Her arms wrap around her stomach, as if looking for a comfort that is not there. "Does —" Her voice is small, and broken. She tries again. "Does anyone know what happened yet?"

It is an equally shaken Weyrleader who stumbles in from the bowl; he staggers, catches himself against the rough-hewn rock of the caverns' entrance, and draws himself up. His eyes are unfocused, his expression vacant as he announces, voice hollowed out from the inside: "Frusha, Griellitath— between. Lost."

Shazi buries her face in the shoulder of one of her boys, her children, huddled close, wailing in fear around her. Finally, with a deep, wracking breath, she gives each of her children a quick hug and pushes to her feet. Another breath, and she dashes the tears from her eyes to assess the situation.

Tye winces at her companions words, and winces more, as the cries of the dragon seem to echo off the walls of the Caverns. "Oh, Valedath…" She sniffles, trying to keep a stiff upper lip, but failing. "No, you're right. It's… it's not. And… well. Just think of it as d-d-" Tye gulps, clasping her eyes closed for a moment. "Just… just don't try to… think about it." And her arms go around the greenrider, much like her dragon, trying to give and receive some support. That is, until the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader both appear. Her eyes go cold and hurt as she stares at Chey. "She's /dead/." The Weyrlingmaster snaps out. "And you're all we have left." And that alone causes Tye to sit down on the table and lay her head down for a moment.

Ceiri enters the caverns a bit after Chey, slowly, face creased with worry. At T'ii's announcement she greys slightly, eyes widening as she looks between the riders. She can't even begin to understand it, but she knows what happens. And she sticks close to the edges, sidling to a table with a few other weyrfolk.

"Gone," S'ton agrees distractedly with Rhaenyra, confirming for the non-riders in the room the magnitude of the unexpected calamity. After a moment's more abstraction, he turns to focus his eyes on Rhaenyra more closely. "I…don't actually know about Frusha. But I think so. Kyzhanth is…he's not really keen on answering my questions just now." His gaze turns toward the Weyrwoman and he shakes his head, looking more than a little lost. "No, Weyrwoman."

Moldimehrallenkai covers his mouth with his hands, then runs into the kitchens to bring out a pitcher of water and a bunch of glasses. It might not be much help, but it's the only useful thing he can think to do. Once the tray is deposited, he scurries to more or less hide behind the skirts of one of the other drudges and watch the unfolding situation.

Rhaenyra stares about her, still wildly confused; her eyes are wide and staring, and she seems to grope for something to do— she shifts away from the table, and takes a step towards Palia, the most immediately familiar face, but stops once again, this time closer to S'ton than before, hands clenching and unclenching nervously. She reaches out, tentatively, to touch S'ton's upper arm, lightly. "I'm sorry," she states, haltingly, as if afraid to say anything but similarly afraid not to. At Tye's accusation to Chey, her eyes go even MORE wide, if that's possible. Oh shards.

Chey whirls at T'ii's voice, even through the keening wail. Her eyes are wide and terrified. "Are — are you — did you see it? What — is Frusha — what happened? Do you know?" Her eyes flick back to Tye, but she doesn't respond to that. She just swallows. Then she turns again, looking for someone who looks… relatively steady on their feet. Ceiri. "You," she says. "Girl. Go run to the guard barracks. Tell — tell them to get out and start… tell them to watch things. Tell Captain Krummolt, two men to go look in Frusha's weyr. To see… if there's anything there. And keep people out." The firelizards are not, today, terribly reliable messengers.

Ceiri stands up too quickly, rocking the table and splattering the contents of glasses, although only one spills completely. She nods, "Yes Weyrwoman," she answers, untangling herself from her bench.

T'ii's voice still sounds soulless, but it is steady, at least. "They returned to Telgar— they were /returning/ to Telgar, they betweened— Del says he felt them go wrong. He couldn't reach them" As Chey lays out orders to rally the guards, his lips thin into a line, and his expression gains focus. "We'll send riders to Telgar" Outside, in the air, Bandeleth still keens, low and mournful and soul-shattering.

Palia is quite a mess, and unfortunately for Tye, the words of comfort aren't exactly helping — maybe evening hindering, as it just reminds her that there's nothing she can think about except what just happened. "She's really gone." This would actually be a good thing for Palia if it didn't mean the loss of a queen — the two weren't best friends, ya know — but despite all the things the wretched woman did to her, it's pale in comparison to Pal's inability to control her emotions. Her eyes raise to Chey in a look of almost jealousy — she almost seems cool and composed in comparison, if simply because the greenrider has no ability to understand or manage her thoughts. T'ii gets a glance as well, reminding her of her other bluerider pal who's nowhere in sight. "I— I'll goTelgar" Though.. Probably not a good idea. But hey, even if she's a bit undercomposed right now, she still has SOME of her youthful enthusiasm behind her.

Tye does move her head up in time to see some glasses with water get distributed. "Wine." Tye croaks out. "Lots of it. Bring out every skin we have." Her eyes glance to the drudges with her request. As her own dragon slowly falls quiet, Tye follows suit. Though her hard stare now stays on the Weyrleaders. And her hand is now cradled, just a little, as the pain from it is starting to register. Good thing anger and fury are good with masking that too. But this bluerider has never been one to keep quiet for long. Alas. "Wrong /how/?" She asks, getting to her feet and moving towards Chey and T'ii. "Was she drunk again? Not that I blame her, from what happened." Another accusing look is sent. "But could it… could it have been avoided? Did she… die needlessly?" It takes all of Tye's restraint not to let another sob out as some of the dragon cries still continue.

Shazi recognizes a member of nursery staff and gently jolts her out of her stunned shock, reminding her of the children around her who are frightened by the shrieking dragons and the shaken riders. The woman rouses and shuffles her charges together, admitting the Weyrsecond's three into the mix, then ushers them all towards the nursery where they can all process together—and where their parents can find them more easily. The children seen to, Shazi approaches her Weyrleaders, silently offering her assistance with her presence.

S'ton doesn't seem to notice Rhaenyra's hand for a moment, then looks down in a faint moment of surprise. "I…thank you." He stares at Rhaenyra for a long moment, frowning. "Wait a minute. Do I know you?" Her face seems familiar, one seen around the Weyr, perhaps, but the fact that he can't place her name seems enough to penetrate his fog.

Chey puffs out her breath at these words from T'ii, her arms still wrapped around herself. "As soon as they can— yes." She can't complete sentences well today, it seems. She is shaking a little bit. She is managing to keep control of her words fairly well, not falling apart, but she still looks as if she might throw up. She moves a little closer to the Weyrleader. "T'ii, can — can Bandeleth… do anything? To calm… I'm trying to get through to Mynwiyath."

Rhaenyra squints at S'ton, dark eyebrows drawing together. "Ah. I don't believe so," she replies, and with that simple statement, she regains a fair bit of her composure, drawing her shoulders up. "Rhaenyra," she then asserts; "Weyrherder." She squeezes his arm, then awkwardly allows her hand to drop, eyes dropping as well, to the floor— then they raise to gaze after the weyrleaders. "What… what can they do?" she hesitantly asks S'ton, her face composed, at least, for the time being, if her eyes are still wide.

T'ii keens — no. Bandeleth keens, but some thin sound comes out of T'ii's mouth as he opens it to respond; he closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath, then squares his shoulders. As he opens his eyes again, and speaks, his voice echoes less hollowly. "/Wrong/," he stresses at Tye. "He can't explain, but he was following them— she wasn't … she wasn't. Maybe she was, I can't tell anymore." He focuses on Chey as she speaks, his regard a little too intense — until he closes his eyes again. "Visualization — off? Off, he says, he says they didn't — too fast, they jumped too fast, and—" One hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose, and outside the caverns at least one draconic voice goes silent. Moments later, Del's influence reaches out to as many minds as he can touch, like a gentling hand.

Palia continues her sobbing at the Tsunami table, leaving Tye's presence for a moment to be coddled by some other riders. What a sight to see, an Inferno Wingleader being unable to contain herself. She does continue to listen to the happenings around, keeping her eye out for anyone else she might happen to latch onto, but for the time being she keeps her quiet crying to herself. "Well," she does say quietly. "Didn't she ban alcohol all that time ago toto to prevent something like this happening?"

"S'ton, rider of bronze Kyzhanth," the skinny rider introduces himself, still clearly a little abstracted. "There's…no way to get them back. If they're gone…" He trails off, then shakes himself visibly. "What's left is to see to the rest of us. We've only got one queen again." His pale blue eyes, washed out further by the present whiteness of his skin, sweep across to focus on Chey again.

Chey steps forward again, reaching out with one hand for T'ii, moving to claim his hand. Stability, stability. Stability. "T'ii. T'ii. T'ii." She repeats it. Mynwiyath, too, finally quiets outside.

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that Oljeitukhodath bolsters Bandeleth's calming influence with his own soothing voice: a whispered chant woven through with cool shades and calming scents.

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that Mynwiyath reaches out for the Weyr as well, her own grief like a knife across her presence, a bloody gash rent in the earth after a quake. Still, the pain-ragged intensity carries with it a balm of its own, and the weight of a queen's authority. All /will/ be well. In time. All will be will.

Rhaenyra rocks back on her heels, a bit, absorbing S'ton's words for the time being. Her own gaze is also settled upon the weyrleaders — Chey, she assumes, and the halfway-familiar T'ii. She's silent: what can really be said at a time like this?

Tye snarls, "Frusha was an experienced dragonrider. Perhaps not the best, but she knew what to do! Shards and shells, something had to have been the matter. I can't just believe she'd mess up visualizing!" She needs another table to hit. Or maybe someone's face. Either way, the rage just continues to brew inside the bluerider. A deep breath is taken and the Weyrlingmaster tries to let the soothing presence calm her. Tries, really. But it does no good. The turmoil and accusation runs to deep. "So, now what, huh? You two are our leaders. How about you 'lead for once." The words are out and Tye regrets it almost immediately. "I mean no… offense." LIES. "Just…" Hands are balled up. More deep soothing breathes. Yes. That helps.

The back of Chey's neck prickles. Everyone is staaaaaaaaaaaaaaring at her.

Shazi sighs, quietly, her gaze sweeping the caverns for something, anything, in need of her attention. She clears her throat. "Is there anything I can do, sir?" she asks, quietly, of T'ii.

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that Veriameth was beginning to calm, if but for moment, but Mynwiyath's shroud of grief carries the green deeper into dismay, a quiet dismay, but still with agony. Ice completely encases her thoughts, and though she also tries to sooth the queen with the cold of her voice, it is washed away. She is but a mere green in a sea of pain… Alas, there is nothing she can do.

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that Bandeleth gathers support to him: Oljeitukhodath's whispered chant, the weight of Mynwiyath's authority, spread and bolstered, amplified and channeled back to the rest of the minds of the Weyr. They /will/ survive this; together, the weyr is strong. It /will/ be okay.

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that Valedath tries to help, sending soothing vibes throughout the minds of others, though his heart is not through breaking. Some minds, in particular, still young and vulnerable, are the ones he reaches to the most. As the dragonets of the Weyr strive to completely grasp what has happened.

Pain is writ across T'ii's face as he clasp's Chey's hand; together, they are stronger. Together, they will lead in crisis. (Even if he is still partially-broken from their last flight.) "Chey." Stability, stability. His gaze narrows, and he twists his head to look at Tye. "Weyrlingmaster," is just a little too calm. "You are distraught. See to your charges."

{High Reaches Weyr} Kyzhanth senses that he is slower to calm than many, surprisingly, considering the usual level temperment of the dragon. Pain, fear and incomprehension crackle like blue sparks around him. The assurance of the Weyr, however, does gradually bank his electric anguish back to to a restrained disbelief.

Chey turns her eyes briefly to Tye, and it is perhaps most frightening that there /isn't/ anger in them. "It's… okay. It's okay, Tye. We're trying. Things have to be done first. Riders to Telgar, the guard out. We need to get the dragons — the weyrlings!" Her breath catches, and terror crashes back down. "Tye, are the Weyrlings okay?" T'ii is ahead of her, but Chey can't quite control that moment of horrifying panic. She presses it back, turns to the room as a whole. Already, someone is coming out with that wine Tye asked for: Chey shakes her head. "Put it away," she says. "No alcohol until sometime tonight. Tell them something hot and simple, as soon as possible."

Tye clenches her jaw shut. "Riders to Telgar? To tell them what they already know? That High Reaches Weyr killed one of their goldriders? Yes. That seems like a fantastic plan. Do tell me how that pans out. And be prepared to be ostracized by the rest of the Weyrs of Pern. This bloody place is cursed, cursed!" And yet she loves it so. "My charges are being taken care of, and I will go and do my duty. As I always /have/." The Weyrlingmaster turns her back on the Weyrleaders, and starts walking towards the exit. Though she does stop, grab a wine bottle from from of the passing drudges. A daring look is sent back at Chey, and the bluerider stalks away with the words of, "Something around this place needs to change. Or we'll all end up dead." And she disappears to do her job!

Ceiri comes back in from the bowl almost as quickly as she'd originally left, chewing on her lower lip. She hesitates, though, keep out of the line of fire for the moment.

S'ton stares after Tye, eyes narrowing. In an undertone to Rhaenyra, aside, he mentions idly, "This is going to be a stressful few days. I'd suggest, ah, not taking everything everyone says without a grain of salt." A faux undertone, that, really. The suggestion is a little more broadly applicable, and he doesn't try to hard to keep more of the room from hearing it.

That sound? Is totally the sound of T'ii grinding his teeth as his jaw clenches. He breathes deeply, to regain equilibrium, then seems to register that his Weyrsecond is also at his size. "Shazi," he breathes. He is still holding Chey's hand, grounding them both. There will be time for despair later. "Weyrlings," he ticks off, "guards — round up the wingleaders," he finally comes to9, with a tip of his head to indicate the melting-down Palia. "Determine the strength of the weyr." That is, to say, check up on how everyone is holding up.

Chey pauses a minute at Tye's final shot. But she does not try to respond. After a few seconds of looking at the door through which the Weyrlingmaster vanished, the weyrwoman turns instead to look back at T'ii. "Is there anyone we can send?" she asks. "I need to get something set up here. People will be wanting… answers. As much as there are any. All we know is she tried to between, and something went wrong?"

Rhaenyra rolls up her jaw and shifts her gaze to the skinny rider she's standing next to; "Oh," she finally states, tone faint; "I supposed as much." Her own voice is rather quiet after the stage-whisper of S'ton, and she glances to the weyrleaders— and seems to get a hold on herself with a visible shake. She straightens, and strides towards Chey and T'ii. "Herder's deepest condolences. If there is anything we can possibly do, we are here to help. I need only send word to my Craftmaster." Her words are simple, without pomp, and direct.

Palia, not knowing what to do, just continues sitting for the time being, but finally being able to cool off — with help from the wing members at the table to her dragon outside — she bites her lower lip and slowly stands. "What— what should I do?" is stuttered as she finally works up the courage, approaching Chey and T'ii, unknowing what a mere Wingleader would do in this situation. (Hah, mere.) "My wing— they seem fine—" or at least, those that are here seem in much better shape than she.

Ceiri angles towards Chey now, glancing between the riders. She's not afraid, but certainly cautious, mindful of intruding too much. And certainly, since everyone always flocks to the weyrleaders in this sort of time, they're probably being somewhat crowded! She stops just at politeness' distance and says, after a calming breath, "Weyrwoman." And waits.

S'ton moves to stand near Palia's shoulder, clasping his hands behind his back in his own version of a parade rest. Palia is, after all, his wingleader, and so he's there to support her. He looks quite drawn, almost gaunt, and pale, but he does a good impression of 'steadfast' anyway.

Shazi nods curtly. "Yes, sir." Her gaze rises from the place where Tye disappeared through the entrance as she decides to check on the Weyrlings last. To Palia, she says, "I would suggest getting in touch with all of your wingmates. Call a meeting, if you can. Hopefully, we'll have more information, later this evening." And… as she's thinking about the Wingleaders, she blanches again. "Mom," she whispers and trots out into the bowl.

Chey looks over at Ceiri when the girl addresses her, offering the ghost of a smile. It's not much, but it's something. "Did you speak to the guard?"

Ceiri's smile crooks, just slightly, on one side of her mouth. "I did," she answers, voice steady. "He's gone to check, and set up a guard. I believe he said something about extra duty and alert for at least a sevenday. " She glances around the cavern, lifting a hand. She actually still has her scroll, although it's crumpled now, and likely needs to be recopied. "He said he would come up to check if you needed anything else as well."

T'ii catches Palia's eye, and tips his head to Shazi; the weyrsecond speaks for him, in this instance, and better than he ever could. He moves from person to person without actually moving: Rhaenyra is next, and she gets a tight smile. "Our thanks; if I can think of anything, I will let you know." Finally, because he is there, S'ton gets instructions next. "Wingrider," he says, then makes an effort, "S'ton. Bear the news to Telgar."

Palia looks from Shazi to T'ii, and then begins to nod slowly, looking back at S'ton with her lower lip still being bitten. "Alright. I'll have Veri send out the message… She's becoming a bit more reasonable now." As is apparently Palia, as she now begins to wipe her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "What about the other Weyrs? I guess you guys'll have to call a conclave or.. or something, right?" Who knows what'll happen then.. Reaches could be held responsible for Frusha's self destruction, for all Pal knows. "I guess I'll.. go see to my dragon.." she says uneasily, but has yet to move.

Rhaenyra nods, once, to T'ii. Another thing catches up to her, and she grimaces; "The runners are probably terrified." - mind you, no mention of apprentices; she turns on a heel, exiting the caverns.

"Thank you," Chey says automatically. "What — nevermind. I'd suggest you report to your superiors and see if they need anything done. There are… things will be fairly chaotic for a bit. They need anyone who can keep a level head. They'll give you a schedule there." She tugs slightly on T'ii's hand, a prelude to letting go. "T'ii. I need to find Shyir. I'll meet you in the council chambers in an hour?"

S'ton gives T'ii a formal salute. This might be more formal than usual, but it seems important to keep things up appearances at the moment. "Yes sir," he replies, turns, and strides out determinedly.

"An hour," T'ii confirms as he salutes S'ton. Then he drops Chey's hand, and strides out to meet with his wing. (The Tsunami riders who were seated with Palia rise, and follow him out.)

Chey heads deeper into the caverns. Headman, headman. Where's the headman?

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