Scavenger Hunt: Feilan gets Proof of Il'ad's Brains

Upper Alpine Meadows
A vast alpine meadow stretches to the foot a glacier, flanked by the flat reach of a dozen more peaks; snow lurks at the higher elevations, capping the valleys in thick, endless layers of ice and new-fallen flakes. In contrast, during the spring and summer months a carpet of wildflowers spreads over a base of springy green turf, perfect for picnics and days outdoors. A small stream runs off towards the distant weyr, running cool and clear from out of the nearby blue-toned glacier.
It is a spring afternoon.
Green Szarabhayanath is here.
Obvious exits:
Ice Caves Glacier Stream

Il'ad slides from Szarabhayanath's neck and lands gently on the ground.

"So..yeah." And as Feilan speaks, he looks around, finally having come a distance he finds..acceptable. Nobody's watching him, right? "Alright, so, listen. A couple of us got together, you see.." He trails off, hands stuffing in his pockets as he looks back at Il'ad again. "And we were talkin' to each other. About who's got the /best/ wing at the Weyr."

"Uh… huh," Il'ad says, stuffing his own hands into his trouser pockets. It's his day off. He was about to take a nap. This better be good. "It's not really a question, you know. Mudslide's pro'lly the most sane, even with Jesha as a Wingleader." Wait, what?

Feilan rolls his eyes, waving his hand at Il'ad just a little bit. "Well that's the thing, you see. We couldn't decide, and we ended up breakin' off into groups, you see. So the way we figured it, we're gonna make little like, tributes to the wings. You know? And the /best/ lookin' one, they get to be the best wing out there." It's a perfectly /logical/ plan. "And I figured, you know how to keep a secret. Because I wanna make /the/ best tribute, and I really, truly need somethin' from you for it."

"Right," Il'ad says, lifting just a single brow to eye Feilan warily. "You know I tell Lzi everything when I'm drunk, right?" And then she tells Izlasth, and Izlasth tells all of /her/ friends… "Something from me. Like what?"

Feilan rolls his eyes. "Lzi don't /count/. She's all over there at Ista. Most of the time." He clears his throat just a little bit, hands setting on Il'ad's shoulders. Up on his shoulders, anyway. "I need..a jacket. An Inferno one. I mean..you know..it's important. For the tribute to look awesome."

"Yeah, good luck with that one," Il'ad tells him, point blank. "The only ones who get Inferno jackets are Inferno…ites." Maybe he's missing the point here.

Feilan lifts his brows slightly, and then just grins at Il'ad. "Uh-huh…." Yes, maybe Il'ad will get it eventually. "Dude, come on. You /want/ your wing to look good, don't you? I swear I'll give it back."

"My wing already looks good. That's why we /have/ the jackets. You're not getting my jacket," Il'ad replies, shaking his head as he pulls his hands out of his pockets to cross over his chest. "You do realize I use my jacket when I uh—go between, right? And, I kind of do that daily. So, it's not happening."

Feilan tilts his head /just/ a bit, and glances down. Where's he looking? Well, he's giving Il'ad a suggestive grin right after. "I'll make it worth your while. /Plus/ I'll get you a different jacket to use. I mean, it's not gonna /look/ as cool, but I'm not gonna do anything /bad/ to it, Il'ad. I promise."

"You can blow me all you want, but you're not getting my jacket." Yep, Il'ad's going to stand tall against that one. "Pro'lly would've been a better approach to catch me off of sweeps when I take it off in the caverns, have your little friends distract me, and steal it."

Feilan smirks just a little bit at Il'ad, brows arching upward, and then he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the greenrider's cheek. "Noted." And he backs right off. "/Oh!/ Il'ad, I almost totally forgot. There's been a couple of things. First of. You know Tilla, right? Well, she said you were talkin' to her 'bout being a guard and everything. And that she was /real/ interested. She wanted me to ask if you could, like, jot some stuff down. You know, advice, from your guardin' experience. /I'm/ not good enough, apparently. Already offered."

"Jot down stuff? And she couldn't ask me herself? Sure, let me pull a piece of hide out of my ass," Il'ad states, quite sarcastic in nature. "Let's see, advice—do what the Weyrwoman tells you if you want to wind up in jail. Don't do what she tells you if you want to get fired… Stuff like that?" Sneer.

"And you just happened to have a piece of hide and a stylus with you… and you had to take me all the way out here for that. Mmm." Il'ad gives him a very suspicious look but takes the hide regardless. "So what the hell am I supposed to put? I mean—" he asks, shaking his head slightly. "I already told her everything we do."

Feilan rolls his eyes. "I brought it 'cause I was gonna ask you about it. Had to bring you out /here/ so the other guys didn't see me." He groans just a little though, shrugging. "I dunno, man! She said she wanted your /advice/. She's a chick, I dunno how her brain's working. You've been a guard for like..forever. Just write down some guard life advice or something like that."

"So they don't see you?" Il'ad shakes that off easily before furrowing his brows. Again, he shakes his head and kneels down with a bit of a sigh and starts writing. There's a pause here and there when he looks upward towards the sky in brief though. And then what probably seems like forever, he hands Feilan the hide back. "Here, I guess."

Feilan grins as he takes that piece of hide back, folding it to put back in his pocket. "Thanks, man. Now she'll leave me /alone/." And hey, he already /explained/ to Il'ad that the candidates are divided into warring 'coolest wing' factions! They can't very well /SEE/ him trying to make the best shrine /ever/. They'd do horrible things to it. Feilan even turns to go, still grinning, and then abruptly turns back. "Oh! Hey. They switched up the chore board a little bit. Can you believe this? They're addin' on stuff where we gotta clean /weyrs/. Like, /you/ guys' weyrs. I'm on there for tomorrow..you mind? I don't wanna go pokin' around in some stranger's stuff."

"Uh—I don't really have anything in my weyr, but I guess? Whatever." Il'ad easily shrugs that off as he stands there, mildly baffled. "I guess just let me know when."

Feilan nods slightly, waving his hand behind him. "Alright, thanks man. Should be tomorrow unless they switch up the schedule and everything. Don't blame me or nothin', I'm just doin' what I'm told." And hey, if Il'ad's weyr isn't messy, that means there's less to clean up!

"Yeah, whatever. See you later, I guess." And then Il'ad's left to his own devices, right? Actually, he'll just follow the candidate towards the caverns, if only to obtain some nourishment, perhaps.

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