Ista Weyr - Storage Caverns
An interlocking set of caverns and short corridors are oddly organized; each room is carefully labeled with its assortment of contents. While everything carefully has a place in each cavern, boxes and supplies remain in some disarray, no matter how much the lower caverns' staff works on sorting through it. Many boxes clearly have been moved and shuffled during searches, left to hinder the next searcher. The first rooms provide weyrfolk with everyday needs, from non-perishable foods to blankets and towels and fabrics, moving further into larger caverns with spare furniture and decorations that are not top priority for everyday weyrfolk.
In the dead of night, when the weyr is still, and the island air has cooled with ocean breezes and the scent of nighttime flowers.. in this enchanted time of quiet and stillness, a goldrider walks the corridors, hips swaying as she pads down through the twisting tunnels, into the maze of Ista's storage caverns. There's a crooked grin on her face, and a Very Big Shovel over her shoulder. Clad all in light tans, the girl's loose, flowing pants and long, wide-sleeved dress shirt are accompanied by a muddy and tough set of stomping boots. Stomp stomp stomp down through the stores she goes, and it's here she stops. EYEING. Oh yeah. This is a goldie on a /mission/.
Somewhere, someone, must have mentioned that there was an infestation of tunnelsnakes in the storages. Lazy candidates never did a good job of dealing with the pests, apparently… It's in one of the darker, deeper caverns of the storages that a massive pile of rags and old clothes is perched up on a large trunk like a statue. If one is to look much closer, they'd notice the thin wire that leads away from the pile towards a dark patch of shadows. Silent, silent… "What," comes a voice from the rags, "are you thinking to do with /that/?" Blue eyes peek out from the rags, and there's probably some strands of blonde hair sticking out too, but it's Fy's voice that's the most familiar as she stares at the arrival of the goldrider. What she's doing sitting on a trunk in the middle of the night instead of asleep… well, it's obvious what she's doing, the why might be more difficult to guess.
Cenlia totally doesn't notice the trunk, or the wire, and probably would have stompity-stomped right past (or got caught on) it if that voice hadn't come out of somewhere. There's an immediate, and none to soft, "AUUGH!" and -SWING- goes the shovel, the girl flailing madly at the air as she whirls around for two seconds before actually spotting Fy. Eyes widen, and a huffed, "Trundlebug's Uncle!" makes it out, "Dun't sneak up on people like that!" Or, y'know, sneakily hide up on people. Some squinting happens, and Cenlia makes a face, "The shards are ya doin' in there, anyhow?" Squiiint. As for her shovel, that does get a sheepish look, the blade clanking to stone floor as she sets it down, "Gonna flatten some tunnelsnakes. Best thing t' use fer 'em." Riight.
F'yr winces and, thankfully, leans well out of the way of that swinging shovel as she lets out a squeak of surprise. For a moment she looks like she's about to topple over the trunk, arms flailing, but she eventually rights herself. "An' you should know not to go 'bout swinging that thing indoors! You could've knocked my head clean off!" She shakes some of the rags off her head, those that didn't get knocked off by her flailing, to glare more properly. "I didn't sneak anywhere. I was sitting here. And I'll tell you what I'm /not/ doing. I'm not catching all the 'snakes with my snare because you scared them off with your shouting and stomping." She drags out her wire, the snare now obvious at the end even as she curls it all back up. She makes a face at the shovel again, shaking her head. "Best thing to make a mess, sounds like. Vengeful cause all the 'snakes are out eating your paperwork, weyrwoman?"
Whoops! Cen takes a step forward, but luckily Fy doesn't take a topple, though the former gardener offers the brownie a bit of a sheepish look anyhow. "Sorry," lopsided grin tilting a little more, "Didn't figure anybody'd be hidin' out in a pile like that." Though what she thought it was, she doesn't say. "You were sitting there /bein'/ sneaky!" comes the retort, though the girl then pauses, blinking around, "What snares? Shards, I was just gonna open up a buncha crates an' smash stuff." With her big heavy shovel. Cen's not violent, not at all, noo. She does give her boots a look, though, defending her shoes with a, "Them things bite, anyways. Heard there was some big ones down here the weyrbrats missed, figured didn't wanna have one grab m' toes again." Yes again. Cen makes a face right back at Fy though, "I /wish/. Sharding things should go eat all them hides an' scrolls, 'stead of stuff in the stores. Naw, just felt like hittin' something. Spent half a day listenin' to some holder girl go on 'bout tapestry or somethin'." Shudder.
"Maybe sneaky for the /snakes/ but not being sneaky if I talked to you right away. Coulda scared you if I really wanted to." Which Fy still did scare her, but that's getting into details. She waves the wire she's rolling up. "Snares. Got a few dead snakes here, too." This time her hand waves vaguely behind the trunk, where indeed there are a few dead bodies from her hard work. A few, but not really that many. Fy just isn't as good as she used to be in 'snake hunting. "The weyrbrats haven't just missed a few, they missed /lots/. Got a whole nest somewhere here and better for older people to deal with it then have the 'snakes bite the brats." Hey, her own brat will someday be part of the hunt. "We could get some babies and drop 'em in the records room. Though I think the Harpers and 'leaders would probably kill us if we ever did that." She hopes off the trunk now, rags falling off around her and left to be a pile on the ground by themselves. "Sounds like you goldriders have /loads/ of fun. But still sounds messy. Guess we can just scare them out into the open so you don't ruin stuff with snake-innards."
"Shoulda said something sooner," Cenlia insists, though really, she looks more indignant about having the crap scared out of her by a talking ragpile. Or embarrassed, but not like she'll admit that! Cenlia peers, seeing the wires now, and a soft, "Ooh," comes in reply, gaze following to the indicated shadows as she does more squinting. There's a slow nod in agreement, the girl muttering, "Some of them brats could use with a decent bite or two. Huh. Figure there ought to be a nest someplace tucked away. Would be easier if we could find it.." And she's totally fingering the handle of that shovel with a wicked sort of thoughtfulness. There's a sidelong glance at Fy, and an immediate, "Not if they dun't find out," at her suggestion, and it might be difficult to tell if she's serious or not, "Some of them harpers could use a somethin' bitin them in the ass. Might get that stick out." Crude. She's still so crude. How the holders must love her. She bobs her head at the idea of scaring the snakes, "Better'n smearin' snake bits all over, yeah," and she starts moving over to the nearest crates.
"I said something as soon as I saw you," Fy says to defend herself, and looking huffy about it too. "And /some/ of the brats, maybe, but not all of them." Here the brownrider gives her friend a stare, as if daring to place her own brat in that list. Not that her brat was really running around with the older ones, still being a toddler and all. But there's a spark of maternal protection— the same sort of defensiveness she gets when anyone might say something bad about anyone close to her, really. She falls into a silence, as if debating releasing the snakes on all the defenseless records and Harpers. "So long as you take all the blame if they find out. Wasn't me. They won't kick out a goldrider." At least, Fy figures they won't. She's already moving towards the crates on the other side, near where she had her snare set up, "I'll move 'em and if something slithers out, you pretend they're those harpers and annoying holders and give 'em your best whack before they bite me. Got it?" Not waiting, Fy's little body pushes against the crates, shoving them aside and making one on top crash down, and generally stirring up a sharding awful noise.
"Ain't seen a decent 'brat yet," the goldrider comments, pausing to think a second, "'Cept mebbe X'hil's lot. Shards, how many he got now - three or four." Someone might have forgotten Fy had a kid too. Cough. If Cen notices that protective spark over there, she doesn't show it, instead hefting up that shovel and keeping it ready, "Sure, ain't like I get in enough trouble already," the girl grinning crookedly. Has there even been a sevenday where this goldie hasn't gotten in /some/ kind of trouble? "Got it," the goldrider nods to Fy, stalking over and bending her knees, totally ready to thwap some tunnelsnakes, though she has to then jump back /quick/ as the crate comes crashing down. "Ack!" the girl backpedals, and then brings her shovel down, to totally FLATTEN a ..sweater sleeve. Oh look, old /clothing/. Sheepish, she gives the spilled pile, from the box that crashed down, a bit of a look, and then pokes through it with the shovel. Hrmmm. No snakes dive out, but Cen's still being cautious.
F'yr opens her mouth to defend her own spawn but something else seems to catch her attention first. "He got 'now'? He's still having 'em out there? Ain't he too old for that?" Good thing that Fy's out of range for the shovel, hopefully. She's quick to continue with: "And /my/ brat's gonna be more than sharding decent. I should shove her off on you since all you do is sit around all day with papers." At least that's what Fy thinks she does for most of the day. And she talks as if she actually sees her brat more than once a sevenday or so. She doesn't look guilty of nearly hitting her friend with the falling crates, instead kicking at some of the stuff with her foot to try to scare out tunnelsnakes. "I ain't sure if I trust to be 'round you with that shovel. Seem to just smack shit around and ask questions later. Next thing you'll squash is my foot."
Cenlia shrugs her shoulders, lifting an old, raggedy tunic on the end of the shovel and wrinkling her nose at it, "Keeps catchin' greenriders," and it speaks volumes for how used to the weyr she's grown that she can say this with a straight face. And not be swinging a shovel at anyone's head. "Your brat?" there's a totally /blank/ look on her face before realization dawns, and the goldrider makes a face, the suggestion getting a horrified, "Noo, don't do that much paperwork. 'S what proper nannies 're for. Shards, thought /you'd/ never end up with one though." More face-making. "Best way to do it," Cen replies, quirking a grin again, about smacking shit around first and /then/ asking questions, and maaybe a bit of a smirk might be there too. "Dun't put yer foot in the way, then," Cenlia chuckles, though she does glance around, "Gotta be a broom or stick or somethin' around here you could use," moving over to lever off the lid of the next crate, peeking into it, "Shards, hand me a glow? Sure somethin's movin' in here.." and she's backing up, shovel raised.
"So he's had more recently? Shells, I'd probably go and punch the greenrider in the face calls their brat Sig's just cause he caught." F'yr makes a face about that. "It's their sharding fault they didn't want to go :between: and get rid of the thing." Huffing, she shoves aside some box to get towards the back of the cavern, pausing only to look over her shoulder and furrow her brows at her friend's blank look. Fy might have hidden her entire pregnancy and all but… "Yeah. Sygni. You know." Shrug. "Was the sharding feline's fault, but gonna have to pass on my secrets to someone, ain't I?" Just to prove she hasn't matured /that/ much, she sticks her tongue out at the goldrider at the mention of not putting her foot in the way. Ignoring her area, she stomps over to where Cenlia is poking. "I got no glow." And she's too lazy to grab one from the nearby basket. "Let's see what's in there then!" Instead, she grabs the edge of the crate and, without telling Cen to move, starts tipping it towards the other woman.
"'Least one I know about," Cenlia shrugs, "Shardin' /likes/ kids," the girl rolls her eyes, and then /snorts/. "Yeah, but Sig's yer /weyrmate/," and Cen apparently makes no claims on her bronzer, except of course, to drag him off to the shrubbery occasionally. "Yeah, is their shardin' fault," shrugging, "Anyways, I ain't ever gonna be dumb enough to get saddled with a flight kid like that," even if it were X'hil's likely. "Sygni?" there's surprise at that name, and then some nose-wrinkling, "'Least it ain't Fygami or somethin', coulda been worse, I guess." Snicker. Oh she's so snickering. And totally sticking her tongue out at the brownie. Thbbt. "Hey w-" and the the crate tumbles over, spilling MORE clothes, and a whole lot of ..crawlers. "Gack!" Cenlia totally WHAPS the first one with the shovel, and sends it /flying/ ..right in F'yr's direction. And keeps whapping, though one most definitely goes up her pantleg, because she's suddenly dropping the shovel with a CLANK-clatter and hopping one-footedly, her other leg kicking madly, "Askldfksgb!" Yes, that's the noise she makes. Her fault for wearing loose pants, though.
F'yr actually makes a face at the weyrmate comment, but she doesn't deny it. "What's X'hil then? Just a cranky old man you hang around with? And ain't really possible for flight kids 'less you're /stupid/. I hear there's some riders out there that do it on purpose to mess with the guys too." Shudder. Weyr gossip, likely. Snapping her head up with a glare, Fy growls out, "Sygni ain't a bad name at all! It's an /awesome/ name!" Maybe it's Cen's comment and the snickering that made Fy dump the crate's contents towards the goldrider (or pretty much on top of her). She's laughing evilly when she sees the crawlers going out, which immediately turns to a shriek as one goes flying at her. She kicks at the crate, arms flailing and smacking at her face as she does the crazy 'GET IT OFF ME' dance. Even if she flicked it off long ago. On her way to safety, she smacks into some other crates, spilling their contents as she finally clambers up to a steady one and smacks her hair free of nasty stuff one last time. "Hah!" she shouts finally, even if she's panting. "Fat lot of use your shovel is now!"
It's probably a good thing Cen's too busy tugging her pants off to answer about X'hil - because in all likelihood, she doesn't have one. "AUGHITTICKLES!" there's more flailing, and following that flying crawler is a pair of PANTS. Yes, she just throws her pants at Fy. But Cenlia's still dancing around, trying not to /step/ on the things - or maybe she's trying to stomp them - how she got those pants off over her boots is anybody's guess, but the girl's making a mad grab for her shovel and then -zoom-! She scrambles up some crates, flashing pink undies at all the crawlers on the floor, before she turns around and starts smacking at them from the vantage of her boxy perch. "Shardin'- effin'- ugggh," right, so very eloquent for a goldrider. "Better'n your /snares/," she shoots back, thbbbt'ing again, "How're ya gonna get down from there without somethin' now?" Not that Cen herself looks any more likely to go wading through all those spilled clothes, crawlers, ..and one little tunnelsnake which must have popped out from a crate Fy spilled, or gotten scares out from someone's box-climbing. Cen gives a squawk when she spots it, SLAMMING the shovel blade down and slicing the thing neatly in TWO. And the front half totally keeps going. Under a shelf. "UGH," about sums up the situation, really.
Oh no, PANTS! F'yr at least sees these coming, smacking them in the way and making them land in the pile of crushed crawlers that Cen likely made when first hopping about. Yet the brownrider goes back to smacking herself about just in case one got back on her. "My snares wouldn't have stirred up a bunch of crawlers to go wandering up my pants." She winces at the shovel cutting the snake in half, staring after the part that when running away. "And they sharding would have caught a /whole/ snake. Now /that/ is gonna give me nightmares instead!" She points towards the shelf it went under, shaking her arm around and glaring at Cenlia. "I'll get down when you cleared the crawlers! Or want me to kick 'em at you instead?" She sticks her tongue out, but her face shows she'll be happy to do just that.
It's attack of the pants! Well, at least the goldrider isn't flinging anything else, though she seems to have missed one of the crawlers, not yet aware the thing's creeping up the back of her shoulder. Or maybe it's the same one which accosted her leg a second ago. There's the occasional -WHAP- of shovel as she smooshes a crawler, though a face is made when Fy swats her pants into that mess. "Ugh, you were the one dropping over crates! Asked you for a /glow/," the girl rolls her eyes. WHAP goes the shovel again, splatting a critter. Oh,m the drudges are going ti have fun come morning. "Seen worse," Cen mutters about the half-tunnelsnake, bapping the still-wiggling back half into one of the spilled crates - possibly to keep from having to look at it. Yay for shovel. WHAP. Could try finding somethin' to smack 'em with, ya know," she tells F'yr, sparing a glance at the brownrider, "Or I could make a run fer it an' leave ya up there." THBBBT.
"I dropped 'em cause you said Sygni's name was bad. And cause I wanted to show you that whacking things with a shovel doesn't work as good as snares." F'yr still makes a nasty face at the wiggled parts of the 'snake. Eeeew. "I think you're doing a good job at smashing them too. Maybe I can kick some more crates for you and your shovel to deal with." She taps a stretched arm at a nearby box that shudders, but something clinks in there and Fy leaves it alone. Don't wanna be blamed for breaking things… well, more things, since there's likely some stuff broken in the mess. Her blue eyes find the goldrider again, mouth opening… closing… grinning wickedly. "You /could/ make a run for it, but you'd be taking the crawlers with you still," she points out with a cackle, pointing to the woman's shoulder.
Cen rolls her eyes, "Said it could been /worse/," even if she implied it was awful. "You kick over more crates, am gonna start flingin' them things /your/ way," she threatens her friend, though WHAP goes the shovel, and another crawler turns into nasty floor-smear. Oh, and there are /definitely/ broken things, though luckily it seems as if most of those crates contained clothing. "Wha?" Cenlia doesn't quite get the talk about taking the things with her, looking down first before she finally follows F'y's pointing. And then there's an, "AUGH!" and some Epic Flailing as the girl tries the bat off the thing from her shoulder. To bad is scurries under her hair. There are some Really Interesting faces made, before the goldrider starts tipping. Or actually, the /box/ she's on starts tipping, because she is totally leaning over the edge, waving a shovel randomly with one hand (unwilling to let it go a /second/ time) and doing panicky things with her other hand. -Down- goes the goldie, shovel and all.
F'yr scowls at her friend this time. "How's that not saying it's bad?" She wobbles a nearby crate with her foot. Planting both feet on two separate crates is only asking for trouble. "Oh yeah, you are? I'd like to see you /try/ to do that." Fy wouldn't be Fy if she didn't dare people to do something almost all the time. The brownrider stands precariously on her perch, watching the events unfold before her before breaking out into laughter and pointing and more laughter. "You- *snortcackle* are making it worse!" Fy is not a nice friend. The goldrider goes down and that really just undoes Fy, who holds her side as she laughs. Except the movement suddenly makes the crate wobble undedr her, and one of them falls over and spills its contents, making the brownrider fall down awkwardly with one leg still up on the other crate. The yowl that follows is likely from pulling a muscle in this painful split. Or because of the baby 'snakes that scurry through the whole mess.
"NUUU!" flailing madly, shovel is finally abandoned, the thing going flying someplace while Cenlia flails in a mess of crawlers and clothes and.. squished critterbits. "AUGH!" that seems to be the word of the nighyt, the girl desperately scrambling to her feet as she does a rather interesting flaily-dance, flinging things all over the place. Fy's predicament - and words - are utterly missed, though not that yowl! "Fy!" is yelped out rather.. louder than might be necessary, and a few octaves higher in pitch, "Auuugh." That last, of course, for the baby snakes that some pouring out, the girl stomping madly while she tries frantically to dust off crawlers. The twitchy-faces she's making would probably be priceless, though she can be grateful at least that Nziekilth is ASLEEP. And not broadcasting to the weyr demanding armed drudges in the stores. Because she totally would. "That's /it/," Cen makes a mad grab for Fy, and pulled muscle or no, she's going to attempt to drag the brownrider out of there. Before they both end up in /worse/ shape.
At least the shovel didn't smack into F'yr. That would have really made her night. "It's trying to eat me! GET IT OFF!" The brownrider shouts, flailing and yelping and pretty much ignoring the pain from her pulled leg muscle. She rolls on the ground, showing that one of the little 'snakes has attached itself to her arm. It probably didn't appreciate being landed on… And she'll have Cen to blame for the grimy ground she's rolling it. Somewhere outside, Zaruath is probably awake as he always is in the middle of the night. But he's not one to shout for help or make a ruckus unless his lifemate was in mortal danger. Or maybe he's just being grumpy cause Fy was mean to him again. Who knows. "Ow!" Fy pulled to her feet isn't a good idea, as she winces and nearly collapses to the ground again. But one final growl and yank gets the baby 'snake off and tossed hard at the wall. At least now she'll allow herself to be dragged out.
"AUGH!" her new favorite word, the goldrider flails and baps at the attached critters on her and Fy, though it's probably doing more harm than good. At least one mooshed crawler is stuck to her side, and a couple of stomped-on snakes are taking retaliating by toothily clinging to her boots. But Cenlia doesn't care! She just wants /out/, and is taking the brownie with her, if she has to drag her friend all the way. It's a direct trundlebug line for the bathing caverns! STOMP STOMP STOMP STOMP! "AUuuuugh!" it's some sight, really, half-covered in mooshed and crawly critters, attached tunnelsnakes, and one pantsless goldie. /Really/. More than a couple very late-night wanderers in the tunnels just have to stop and stare. Because, /really/. Even in Ista, this is on the odd side, though once those pools are in sight, Cen makes a mad dash for them, practically flinging them both in the water. DROWWWWN DEM SUCKERS!!
(..And hopefully that doesn't include drowning both of /them/. Cough.)
Ista Weyr - Hot Springs
This cavern off the lower caverns is fairly large, and quite warm. As you step inside, you notice the dominating feature of this room, which is a number of large pools, filled with water from a underground spring. Steam rising from each of the pools speaks of the underground thermal which heats them to comfortably warm temperatures.
Around the room sit various benches and hooks for holding everything from towels to clothing. Near the pools are small containers of sweetsand for the folks that come in to not only relax, but wash. Several of the pools are set back in the wall, within small caverns to give privacy to the occupants. Near one pool, a crack emits a heated steam which mingles with that off the pools to cloud the air.
F'yr joins Cenlia in her chorus, adding her own "ACK!" several times when she finds some other semi-living pest on her. While she does rush out of the storage caverns, or rather half-dragged out by the goldrider, she's actually still whacking stuff on her body and tugging at her blond hair. No words are shared until they are in sight of the water. "THEY'RE IN MY HAIR!" is her war cry as she flail-falls into the water. She doesn't really jump, her leg hurting too much, so it's more like still being dragged in by the goldrider. SPLOOSH! The roiling water is this crazy brownrider flailing underwater trying to disentangle stuff from herself. Eventually she does come gasping for air, realizing underwater meant having crawlie good and bits floating in her face. "Ew, ew, ew," she whines, pulling her shirt over her head immediately and flinging the thing out of the water as if it was a giant crawler.
SPLASH! FLAIL. Sputter.
SPLASH! FLAIL. Sputter. Cenlia is scramble for the surface again, splashing like mad to get the things off her, her own shirt tugged on before eyes widen into saucer-shapes, utterly disregarding the dead-critter-filled water. "Augh! 'Snakes can /swim/!" that gets pretty high in pitch as the goldrider backpedals frantically to the edge of the pool, while some wriggly things dart about after her, or really, just dart about under the surface. "YEEEEEE!" it's up over the edge and a slipping scramble0crawl to the next pool, leaving Fy to fend for herself. DUNK. Those few poor occupants currently in the hotsprings are left to just.. stare. Somebody might come running eventually, but right now Cen's flinging clothing out of the pool, not really caring where it goes. SPLAT! goes a pair of pink undies, landing on a towel rack, and next some boots and shirt go flying in random directions, at least one hapless bystander having to duck out of the way. Somebody is totally cracking up somewhere. It's a good thing Cen is preoccupied with grabbing soapsand and tugging crawlers off. EEEW.
Someone was still underwater when the warning went out, or perhaps her ears were full of water and she just didn't hear it. So when Fy shoves hair from her face and sees Cen already scrambling out, leaving her behind, Fy's shouting after her with a "You still got some on— WHAT'S THAAAARGH!" Yeah, that's what a question turned scream sounds like. Her voice raises to ear-splitting tones too as she flails away from the swimming things. "ITBITMEITBITMEITBITME!" Add some EEEEEEEs in there too. Whether it actually did again or not, Fy finally gets to the edge and crawls out, shoes falling off on her way as she scuttles as fast as she can on all fours to Cenlia's freshly clean pool and slips in head first. Finally the rest of the clothes is discarded, thrown out of the pool and her panicking hands going straight to her hair. Some gunk is taken off and flung at Cen. "You left me behind to be eaten!" Hunkering down low, she tries to catch her breath first before her heart explodes from adrenaline.
Canlia is madly scrubbing at herself, trying to fling off any remaining crawlers and ..bits. "Uggh-" that gets cut off as she realizes poor Fy is lagging behind in the 'snakey pool, eyes going WIDE, with a, "Move /faster/!" yelled oh so helpfully to the brownrider. Which is then promptly followed by some backing up, in case anything followed F'yr over, and then some quick ducking when the gunk gets flung her way, "Ack!" She disappears underwater again, re-surfacing on the opposite side of the pool, and giving both brownie and the pool behind her a wary look. "I gave ya a warning!" the goldrider protests, making quite the face, and then sinking down to her nose and blowing grumpybubbles in the water. And GLARING. Becasue this is all Fy's fault. Somehow. And then her shoulders start to shake. And she has to sit up to -breathe- because she is totally cracking up, all of a sudden, "/Shards/," snorrkt'd out as she leans back against the pool's edge, laughing with what might be semi-hysterical relief, "Th- thought you was gonna get /'et/." Cackle.
"I didn't hear any sharding warning," F'yr says once she manages to calm herself enough to take a few deep breaths. She grabs a handful of her friend's own soapsand then to start scrubbing vigorously at her hair. "What's so funny?" she mutters, obviously not finding the situation funny at all. With adrenaline draining, her scrubbing slows down and she starts wincing more. Legs, arms, hair probably— it all likely is stinging and hurting. "I /was/ sharding eaten. Look!" She shoves her arm out to show the small bite marks. Baby snakes at least didn't pack a bite like the adults do, but the red little dots where drops of blood would leak out is there. "And I don't think that's the only place!" She's not saying where else she's bit… "All you got away with was crawlies in your hair I bet!" She examines her hair and shudders, at the thought. "And if only you didn't go whacking everything with a shovel, we'd have something to wear out of here. Ain't sharding going back to the storage caverns and there ain't anything but towels in here."
"Sh- shoulda seen yer /face/," Cenlia.. just snickersnorts at F'yr, though really, she's grinning too hugely to really look sorry about the whole mess, even if the goldrider /is/ still darting wary looks at the pool over there. Just in case. As for funny, she doesn't bother answering, just snickering to herself and grabbing another handful of soapsand, scrub. Snerrk. Scrubscrub. At least the girl offers a vaguely sympathetic grimace for the sight of that tunnelsnake bite, though then she manages a wry, "'Least them things weren't full grown, /shards/." And /that/ out of her system, she just deflates and starts tugging tangles and.. any remaining things out of sudsy hair, "Shardin' crawlies." She makes a further grimace at mention of ..other places, snorting a, "Can just grab a towel an' run back to our weyrs." She might have forgotten that Fy's is up in the air somewhere. Cough. "Shards, am gonna hafta go get m' shovel," this earning a groan, the girl sinking lower in the water. Maybe she'll finally abuse some of that shiney rank and make some poor drudge do it.
Here's a face Cen can look at. It's got the nastiest scowl that Fy can manage, given the situation and soapy hair in her face. "Well, shoulda seen /you/ falling down. Was sharding hilarious." You know, back then. Fy's having a hard time laughing about it right now. She also looks over towards the other pool, scrubbing just a little quicker. "You don't think they'll crawl out of there and chase us again, do you?" Her head snaps back around, wincing at the too fast motion and she dunks down to wash the soap from her hair quickly. "Well ain't that nice for /you/. Flying in just a towel ain't too comfortable." From experience, apparently? Another handful of soapsand, still not satisfied that her hair is anywhere close to clean. "Leave the sharding thing. There's plenty of other shovels. And if it's special-" Fy's tone makes that sounds like it'll be laugh if it were special "-Then you'll have to brave it all alone." This brownie isn't going. And this brownie, being the lowest of low ranking riders, doesn't really even consider Cen's weyrwomanly powers here.
Cenlia doesn't even blink at that scowl, lopsided grin in the face of AngryFy. The reminder of falling over earns a grimacy shudder though, and another groaned, "Ugghh, if I never see 'nother crawler again.." Except there is the matter of her shovel. "Will grab it later, or send somebody," the goldrider waves it off, in /no/ hurry to go running back out there. She does give some serious consideration to the pool over yonder, making a bit of a face of her own, "Ugh, hope not," though she might edge just a liittle further away, "Them things start crawlin' over here, am gonna start tossin' soapsand jars." Those being the most immediate objects within reach. "Oh, right," the reminder of where F'yr's weyr is gets a nosewrinkle, the girl offering, "Got a load of spare clothes back in m' weyr, can borrow some." Nevermind they'll probably be way too big on the brownie (midget). Cough. At least it will be clothing! For now though, there is scrubbery! And Cenlia is gonna get to that, still sending suspicious glances at that pool, and tugging the occasional nasty thing from her hair.
