Ashli's lost a hide...

November 17th 2004
Logged by Pyrene

Living Caverns

"Mmm. Well, if there is a thief about, thank Faranth the Weyr has the two of you geniuses to sort out the paper trail." X'ian replies, his low voice unavoidably flat and dry at the explanation. Still, he seems too distracted to really focus on being acerbic, his gaze traveling absently over the surface of each hide. "Whose handwriting is it?"

Silas is just standing there at the hearth, trying to get some warmth into his chilled bones. Not really listening to the conversation, he still turns to glance at the girls and takes note of the bronzerider as well, then turns back to the fire with a grimace on his face. Not in a very talkative mood today, is he?

Ashli positively /squeaks/ upon seeing Pyrene walk in, and the girl automatically leaps behind X'ian, apparently with the idea that she can hide successfully behind the taller man, or that he'd be some amount of protection against the wrath of Pyrene. Perhaps if she stays really quiet, Py won't see her. Quieter than a mouse…

"That's just what I'm going to have to figure out." Sylara ignores X'ian's barb, amazingly, and scans the hides again, food completely forgotten. She'll eat when this is taken care of. "I thought it was Michel's, but maybe with two copies of the same thing, he's got his apprentices practicing and gave the Headman the wrong hides." She eyes Jessica for a moment, unable to believe what she's hearing. "I don't think Ashli has anything to do with the grain. It was a different hide." She explains to her fellow assistant carefully. "Apparently pretty important." She returns to the task at hand. "Oh. It might be a 5. Wow. Ok. I'm just going to go talk to Michel when I finish my food." And with that, she wanders around the table and sits back down.

Mice shouldn't squeak so loudly before hiding from the cat. "Ashli, I'd like a private word with you," Pyrene hisses across the length of the room, making no immediate attempt to join the gathering. She's certainly not going to reduce herself to chasing Ashli around a X'ian maypole.

Ravyn sneaks out since everyone else got distracted. He smiles a little, freedom. And with that, he slips into the Inner Caverns, much more relaxed than a moment ago, after all they quite asking him questions.
Ravyn steps into the shadows that lead back into the Weyr.

Jessica would normally rise to defend herself at X'ian comment, but something possesses her to keep quiet. Well… rather, to ignore the sarcasm. "We don't know." She murmurs, wrinkling her eyebrows now, too. "Ok… d'you mind… if I borrow these for a bit, just to get a better look, Sy?" She ignores Pyrene's re-entrance, for one reason or the other. Most likely because the hides are taking up most of her concentration… sigh. So much for off-duty.

Hide in plain sight? That seems to be Silas' strategy for the day and with a blanket covering that tell-tale white knot he might just pull it off. Or at least he hopes so. Backing away from the hearth a little, he finds a comfy chair to sit in, wrapping his blanket tight around him, while simply watching the going-ons. Ahh, weyrlife. So very interesting.

X'ian stiffens as Ashli ducks behind him, the full force of his glare brought back around onto Pyrene at the sound of the Weyrwoman's hiss. "It was just one hide, Pyrene. What's the matter? It wasn't a page out of your personal diary or something, was it?"

Upon hearing the hiss, Ashli whimpers, so softly it is practically unintelligible unless you were very close to her. The girl obediently steps out from behind X'ian, however, though she flicks a wondering glance at X'ian as she does so. She noticed the stiffening, and an eyebrow is quirked at him for just a half a moment before the girl blushes and suddenly seems to realize that by hiding behind the bronzerider, she brought him into the argument as well, and though she seems comforted to have a supporter, she shakes her head slowly, murmuring softly, so softly one would have to have the ears of a Harper himself to hear her, to him before she finally meanders over to Py, "It's all right, X'ian. It was my fault…I'm sorry." she seems to apologize for bringing him into it, before the girl lifts her head and walks towards Pyrene, looking for all the world as if confidence is positively brimming in her. Quite the little actress Ash has become. "Yes, weyrwoman?"

Sylara nods, waving a dismissive hand at Jessica. "Sure, while I'm eating, and then I'll need them back." Reason descends on her for a moment. "Aren't you off this Sevenday anyway?" She remembers. "Or something?" She takes a bite of the cold food, and leans back in her chair, watching the rest of the situation, hoping Ashli doesn't get into /too/ much trouble.

Pyrene raises her brows at X'ian. "I don't know what grounds you have to think that I'd lay any value on /your/ opinions of responsibility." Switching her attention smoothly to Ashli, she holds the hide out to her. "From X'ian's comment, I take it you know exactly what you've done and have cared to share the fact with the others present," she says, almost gently. "Accordingly, I suppose there's no point in me trying to spare your dignity - however, I will give you a chance to excuse yourself."

Jessica nods at Sylara, shrugging a little and rolling her eyes. "Yeah… but like, if there's stuff to be done, I'm not /that/ upset that I can't do it." Although… now that someone has mentioned it… she pushes herself up from the table. "Uhh… actually, if you don't mind… I might go see where Siren is. She always knows what to do about all kinds of things…" She finally shoots a puzzled look Pyrene-and-Ashli's way. Should she stay or should she go? Ashli looks as though she could use a friend around…

Silas tilts his head as he watches from his vantagepoint near the hearth, his mind ticking away as he attempts to put together what's happened to get Ashli under Pyrene's scrutiny. Hands folded around a mug of steaming klah, there's a mild twinkle of amusement in his eyes. So long as the attention is elsewhere, he might escape a few more chores.

"Pathetic. In the absence of any real drama to settle, you've been left to crack your whip and snarl over one of the few ranking individuals in this weyr that is still loyal and obediant enough to listen. I'm dissapointed, Weyrwoman. If it's a whipping boy you want, you know I'm well versed as a scapegoat. All you need to do is ask." Despite Ashli's murmer, X'ian raises his voice all the more, making perfectly sure that every word is articulated enough to reach Pyrene clear across the cavern.

Ashli eyes the hide and takes it with a thankful nod, grasping it gently in a small hand. "Yes, Pyrene, I know exactly what I have done. However, I have not shared it with others present. I spoke to X'ian about it last night when I returned to the Hearth to search for it. Eitanex was also there." the girl says, voice calm and even, the only thing cracking the girl's collected exterior the worried look in those dark eyes. "I have no excuse, Weyrwoman." Ash says, voice ringing calmly. No Harper's tale this time for the girl once famous for spinning excuses. In this case, Ashli apparently knows she's done wrong and accepts it. Upon hearing X'ian's statements, Ash turns slightly to gaze at him, the look in her eyes confusingly mixed. On one hand, the girl is thankful for his presence, enough to give her the courage enough to stand as still and speak as evenly, and for someone standing up for her; and yet, it is not X'ian's battle, and if he gets in trouble for Ashli's sake, well…that just wouldn't be fair. Ash turns back to look at Py after a moment, however, patiently awaiting the verdict.

Sylara is munching on her food, and looks up at X'ian's words, blinking in surprise. She says nothing to him, though, looking over to Ashli when she speaks. "And I found it, later that evening, and it was still there." That says something, doesn't it?

Pyrene ignores any third party defence, glaring wearily at Ashli. "Well, to trot out the necessary 'what if's, we might not have found it, it might have been inadvertently destroyed - we've got no copy of this yet, Ashli, and Faranth knows I'd not have liked to have gone back to Nabol's steward to ask for a copy of their documentation." She shoves it into her hand. "You can copy it and all the other hides I gave you twice over so we've got that much added security. And be grateful that there wasn't any /sensitive/ information there - just confidential stuff." Her tone turns scathingly sarcastic.

Since Sylara has no more to say to her, Jessica takes her cue to leave. She offers a wave to Ashli, though it mightn't be noticed with all the fuss surrounding the girl. "Seeya 'round, Sy." And… exit Jessica.
Jessica goes home.

Silas is just sitting quietly in his seat, staring at the bronzerider for long moment with a look of surprise creeping across his face. Could he have been wrong about the bloke? Didn't it seem like he just tried to defend Ashli? His gaze falls back on Pyrene, wondering why she was treating a junior weyrwoman like an offending apprentice, one eyebrow lifting slightly and a puzzled expression falling over his features as he leans forward a little, trying to catch more of the conversation.

X'ian, ignored as he is, remains standing - his arms folded firmly across his chest. Somehow or another, despite watching Pyrene administer punishment through narrowed eyes, he manages to keep quiet…though the effort is quite clearly killing him.

Ashli nods slowly, mulling this over for a moment before she bites her lip, possibly to hide a sigh. Her composure does not change, however, and the girl almost seems…pleased. Now, why would that be? Quite possibly because apparently Marond has not gotten to Pyrene yet to inform her of the pouncing incident, and copying isn't too terribly bad. Upon hearing her sarcastic tone, however, Ash looks rather hurt. "I believe I am grateful for that, and realize that I'm lucky that Sylara found it." The young rider's voice keeps on an even keel, though the look in her eyes seems to beg the question as to why that particular tone was necessary.

Pyrene, unfortunately, never was greatly perceptive - nor aware of why she should be, just because somebody's feelings are hurt by a scolding. Her line of discipline is to encourage thick skins. Certainly, she pays no more attention to Ashli, although she does do X'ian the favour of a few words. "And really, X'ian, stop martyring yourself. You've apparently got the whole Weyr on your case as it is, so I'm afraid you'll have to do without my criticisms - I'd rather use them on somebody who's got potential anyway. I've done you the favour before of not discussing your discipline with a third party; don't expect me to discuss somebody else's discipline with you." She also shoots a quick word to Sylara for good measure: "Well-meant defence, but in future, wait until I ask for it."

Silas shrinks back into his chair now that Pyrene's disciplining seems to have come to an end, trying to look all innocent-like and turns his head to the fire. Not eavesdropping at all. Nope. Nevermind Sils. He's not here at all. Maybe he really would make a good Harper spy, eh? Doesn't seem that anyone's noted his presence as yet.

Sylara sits, finishing her meal, reaching over to grab the hides that Jessica left on the other side of the table. She sets them back on the stack and returns to the meal. She glances around the room, trying to avoid the discussion, and spots a candidate looking like he was hiding. "Candidate." She can't remember his name. "Would you come here?" She beckons.

"Forgive me, Weyrwoman, but I hardly consider you refusing to discuss your disciplinary tactics a favor, particularly when it's clear that you don't wish to discuss them because you don't wish to listen to anyone but yourself. And it's difficult to be a matyr for a group of people that's 'on my case' as you say. What would be the point? There's no purpose in it. I'd like to think I'm the only one with balls enough to tell you you're doing a crappy job, but I suppose the knot on your shoulder makes your spin the correct one." X'ian replies, walking in her direction so that he can lower his voice a few notches as he does so.

"Oh, Pyrene, stop. X'ian meant well." Ash defends, suddenly taking the offensive in the discussion. "Pyrene, if he didn't have potential, he would not be a bronzerider. You, as Weyrwoman, know that as well as anyone." The girl seems to subconsciously be paraphrasing X'ian himself from an earlier conversation considering potential and dragons, yet she does not let up, stubbornly holding her ground and gazing at Pyrene. Ashli is apparently fed up with everyone constantly insulting her clutchmate.

M'nty strides with a bounce in his step in from the Central Bowl.

Silas winces. Cover blown. And such a good cover too? Sitting alone by the hearth, looking like he's hiding is a sure fire way of getting spotted. Gathering the blanket around him, he sets his mug down on a table and walks on over to Sylara, eyes flickering toward the weyrwoman and X'ian as he somehow manages to not knock over any chair. "It's Silas, ma'am," he says, seemingly having a difficult time of keeping his eyes on the woman, "what can I help you with?"

Sylara nods. "That's right, Silas. I'm sorry. Just all this…" She gestures at the hides. "Anyway. Do you know anything about a prank with grain?" She asks the candidate, carefully. "It's okay if you do, I just need to know."

Pyrene does look a touch taken aback by Ashli's sudden rally against her. "You're martyring yourself by inviting me to abuse you as well," she puts back to X'ian coldly - it's an odd choice of words, but it may have been unintentional. "And quite frankly, X'ian, I'm bored of hearing about you and being asked for an opinion on you. If you have any potential, nobody's ever going to know it until they leave you alone to prove it yourself, and that's exactly what I'm trying to do." Which is also a valid excuse to ignore his barbs against /her/. "Bronzerider - or any other colour for that matter - equalling potential is a matter of personal opinion, Ashli. There's no evidence to prove it." She turns to offer a wan smile to M'nty. "Don't ask."

M'nty enters just before Pyrene turns to him with a small satchel slung over his shoulder, glancing around. Upon seeing Pyrene, he immediately starts towards her, opening his mouth as he gets close enough to realize what's going on. Upon Pyrene's 'don't ask' he only glances at X'ian, shakes his head, and says, "I won't."

"Grain?" Silas repeats, glancing at the hides, brow furrowing, "a prank with grain?" He can hardly contain his laughter, though for some reason - possibly out of fear of Pyrene's wrath - he manages to only let it reach his eyes as he shakes his head, "no. No, haven't heard anything about /grain/. In fact… I've not heard anything about any prank at all." He lowers his voice a little, casting a glance toward the weyrwoman, "is that what this is all about? Grain?"

Sylara frowns. "No, /this/ …" again gesturing toward the hides. "Is about grain." She gestures the other way. "/That/ is about something entirely different." And she doesn't enlighten him what it really is about. "Ok. If you hear something, please do let me know." She sighs, returning to the last of her meal.

"I'm not asking for an opinion, and I can't control the flow of gossip that reaches your delicate ears, but I will say that it seems a little sad that people are more interested in my personal life than they are your realm of control…Not that I believe it really extends beyond Lauria and Ashli - the former because she's an idiot, and the latter because you talk down to her like a naughty ten turn old." Glancing to the ten-turn-old in question, X'ian scowls slightly. "She's got a point, you know. I'm pretty sure Cadgwith didn't pick you out of the crowd for your charming personality."

Ashli shakes her head. "That's not what I meant, Pyrene. I meant dragonrider equalling potential, I simply automatically tossed in the color of his dragon." Ash explains in a rather logical manner, though she eyes X'ian for a moment. "I'm in her realm of control because she talks down to me like a ten-year-old? I'm in her realm of control because of habit, and duty." Weyrbrat born and raised, Ashli has the idea of responsibility to Weyrwoman set firmly in her mind. The girl eyes the hide in her hand and nods. "I'd better get started on copying these, however. Good day, everyone. Oh, 'eloo, M'nty." she notes in a more friendly tone as he meanders up. The girl turns to leave, flashing a smile at X'ian as she passes him and nodding in a friendly manner at Silas and Sylara as well as she makes her escape.

Impression is Impression, and the reminder of own brings a genuine smile to Pyrene's face. "I'd sat in the galleries for countless clutches while of an age to Stand," she reminisces cheerfully. "I saw two golds Impress from there. And when I finally was Searched as a joke, I was left Standing. So when Cadge blundered her way across to me the second time I stood, I somehow doubt it was because my mental-self is stamped with the word 'gold-potential'." She then focuses brightly on her audience. "But as luck would have it, you're stuck with me in this position." She nods after Ashli, making a mental note to chat with the girl later, before wandering over to stand behind Sylara, listening in on her interview.

"Oh.." is Silas' reply, only that much more intrigued with it and he bites his lower lip, eyes flickering as he stands undecided near Sylara's seat. "Um, anything else I can help you with?" he asks, gaze now on the arguing group of riders, then perks up as they break up and the weyrwoman comes over. He tilts his head in a greeting, smiling at Pyrene, "my duty to you and your lifemate weyrwoman." See? Even if he's sneaky, he's still polite when faced by authorities.

"Indeed. As luck would have it." Wiping a hand down over his face irritably, X'ian simply stands there on his own for a moment before turning for the door.

M'nty nods at Ashli as she takes her leave, directing his attention back at Pyrene and X'ian as they speak. "Ah- well… I'm starting to doubt the idea of potential myself." M'nty said sourly before trailing after Pyrene with an exasperated grunt. "Pyrene?" He says, attempting to drag her attention away from Sylara and… Now that's curious. M'nty seats himself and eyes the knots on both Sylara and Silas.

Sylara has pretty much concluded her interview for the moment, and finishes up her meal. "Not that I can think of. Candidates are known for pulling pranks, but if you hear one that is dangerous, or harmful to the Weyr, there's no harm in reporting it." She sips the last of her klah and stands up. "Pyrene, M'nty." She nods respectfully to both. "If you don't mind, I will go talk to Michel and see if the problem is in the hides themselves." She glances one more time at Silas. "Thank you Silas."

"Thank-you, candidate," Pyrene murmurs. She nods her approval to Sylara, but M'nty's quiet word has caught her attention and she turns to him, eyes inquiring.

"Right," Silas nods, but has no intention of squealing on anyone, of course, "but I can't imagine why anyone'd think of anything that might be dangerous.." He cuts himself off and gives respectful nods to Pyrene and M'nty both, "weyrwoman, weyrleader," he says and retreats to the sideboard, gathering his blanket around him again, while searching out something warm to eat.

M'nty appraises Silas for a few moments, rather forgetting that he had Pyrene's attention. "Silas? Silas." Whatever that means- but he finally realizes that Pyrene is, in fact, paying attention. "Ah- yes. Pyrene. I've been meaning to speak with you- you wouldn't mind having a… formal chat? If not soon, then at least eventually?" He asks, a out-of-place apprehensive look on his face, before the prescense of the other two make him cough. "Ah- Yes. Good day to both you. Sylara. Congratuations."

Sylara says, "Thank you, M'nty." She stands and turns toward the kitchens, taking her hides with her. "
Sylara heads north into the redolent depths of the kitchens.

"Any particular reason it can't be now?" Pyrene asks, tipping her head at him. "I don't know how much time there'll be." And that is definitely an odd choice of words and purely intentional, although the eyes watching his are gentle enough.

"Huh? Yes, Silas. That's me," the Candidate says, turning from his place at the sideboard, pouring stew into a bowl and maybe spilling a little, then realises that the words weren't really meant for him and goes back to filling his bowl, wiping the spilled stew with a corner of his blanket. No one saw that, right?

M'nty gives Pyrene a wry smile, responding to her first. " Yes, I know- but I image that you're busy and I don't want to keep you. Besides, I don't know if it's very important to anyone but… well, me." He says the last bit, turning a little to eye Silas and his spilled stew. "So you're that candidate from… Gar, then? Mmm- hard to keep track." He mutters the last bit to himself and then turns back to Pyrene. "So- it's up to you. But I'm sure you've other issues to take care of." He's also repeating himself.

Pyrene rolls her eyes. "Let me know what it is before I decide whether or not I have time to discuss it now!" She glances distractedly at Silas, but doesn't make any additions to M'nty's attempt at conversation.

Silas's spoon is halfway to his mouth as M'nty speaks again and the expression on his face betrays surprise. The weyrleader himself remembered where he's from! "Yes, sir.. Gar. Well, Southern Boll, originally, but lately Gar," he says and puts his spoon back in the bowl, glancing toward Pyrene, then back at M'nty.

M'nty shoot a look at Silas before muttering under his breath a bit. "Ahh- Well, Pyrene. It's basically just me wanting to discuss things before I'm going to be replaced, as it were. The state of things. The problem is that I don't know how long that'd take… and I don't want either of us to be too distracted. So I'm thinking not now. But later." He says muttering a 'Southern Boll-' and actually saying. "Ah- Boll can be nice. I spent some time there quite a few turns ago."

Pyrene sighs and gets up. "Later, fine," she replies, somewhat impatiently. "I'd best get on then." Discontented, she nods to Silas as well as the Weyrleader and strolls quietly out.

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