In the Living Cavern

Ista Weyr - Living Caverns
Large enough to house the entirety of Ista's population at one time, the cavern set aside for the very heart of the weyr's life is a grandiose, somewhat circular affair, filled with rows of long tables surrounded by benches and chairs. Bustling and busy, it is a rare moment indeed when there is not someone at work or leisure in here. The long trestle table by the kitchens is perpetually filled with plates and trays of food, as well as bottles and flasks of drinks both hot and chilled. A pot or two of something is always bubbling upon the hearth, along with warming enough klah to keep weryfolk and riders going throughout the day and night. Although a high table is set aside for respected dignitaries on formal occasions, most of the seating here is not designated to any particular group - rather, all ranks of the population eat together, intermingled across the broad area. Great tapestries have been hung upon the walls, orange and black borders proudly displaying the weyr's colors, the age-faded hangings depicting scenes of importance to the area - the eruption of the volcano; the first clutch; the view from the star stones, over forest, dark beach, and glistening waves of blue. Propeller-like fans have been affixed to the ceiling in more modern times, cooling the cavern on the hottest of days, the only real sign of modernization outside the infirmaries and craft caverns. Passageways lead up the stairs to the kitchens, down a second flight of stairs to the lower caverns, and out into the expanse of the bowl.


It's just before dinner time, the trestle tables just starting to see a shift from afternoon snacks into evening meal. It doesn't seem to be a particularly exciting meal, what with Ista's tithing issues, but it hits all the salient food groups and could be filling if people took multiple trips. Miarene stands to one side a clipboard at hand and a wry twist to her mouth as she checks things off. Random things. There's really no rhyme or reason to what she's marking off. She looks busy, mmkay? That's all that matters.

Throught the entrance from the main bowl, N'talya walks slowly into the cavern looking to have just returned from sweeps, Riding jacket hanging loosely over her shoulders. Taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimmer light of inside the Ruby wing wingleader smirks slighlty as she spots the available selections for tonights meal. Spotting the overly busy looking Assistant Headwoman she says softly, "Evening."

Gerazal comes in from the bowl and he makes his way over towards the food. He frowns a litle bit, but takes one out everything and puts it on his plate. He spots N'talya and smiles at her, "Evening." He gives a polite nod to the Assistant Headwoman as well as he reaches to pour himself a glass of water, "Good evening to you as well."

When there's a specific task at hand, it's easy to look busy enough. It's when she's interrupted that Miarene pauses, taking stock of who is speaking to her with a quick appraising glance and managing a silvered lopsided smile as recognition of the wingleader flitters in her deep blue eyes. "Hungry? We're doing what we can with what we have, so there should be something that appeals to you. Or anyone else really." There's a hint of apology in her bright voice, a side long glance taking in the buffet and then looking to the two people so very near. "How were sweeps?"

N'talya smiles a bit and says, "Sweeps where good thanks…." she nods as she looks to the tables, "I know there isn't much you can do about the fair we have." she thinks, "Maybe we could supliment with fishing and hunting…" she mummers to herself before coming back and says, "I am sure you are doing your best

Gerazal nods, "I understand and don't worry I will." He says as he moves to find a seat near Miarene so that they can continue to talk. He sets his plate down and mug before he sits down himself. "I'm sure things will work out. If not as if we are trying to boil leather and eat that."

"Faranth hope that day never comes," responds Mia, her pencil tapping against the top of her clipboard. But soon, she gives up the ghost of pretending to work hard and slides the board under her arm to give Gerazal and N'talya her undivided. While the wingleader is recognized, the weaver is given a quizzical upward brow lift. "Miarene. Most people call me Mia or the cutest girl in the lower caverns." The last of her words is paired with a teasing wink.

N'talya sakes her head and says, "It won't come to that but." he smiles and looks to Mia and says, Well it is good to finally meet you Miarene, I know I have seen you around but haven't had a chance to talk with you. If you all need any help of the crafters wing just feel free to let me know."

Gerazal smiles, 'Journeyman Weaver Gerazal, it's nice to meet you too." He laughs, "I'll have to remember that should I ever need to come find you. If you have any need of my services please don't hestitate to call. I'm happy to keep the folks of the Weyr well clothed."

"Hopefully you don't run off back to the Hall," Mia returns. "If it does come to eating boiled shoe leather or going home, where, presumably, Weaver Hall won't be boiling leather for food, I wouldn't blame you. I might even ask you to take me with you." With clipboard under her arm, the young woman drifts up and down the table filling a small plate and hands it to N'talya. "You should eat. Here. Eat. What do you do on sweeps these days?"

N'talya smiles and says, "Well my job is a bit diffrent then most of the other riders, being the wingleader of the crafters wing, I travel alot to the beholden areas of the weyr checking on the need for crafters." she smirks a bit, "Though I think maybe some of the place should get a bit less attentions these days…" she looks to the meal and smiles, "Thanks.." sliping into the nearest seat.

Gerazal shakes his head, "I wouldn't for my heart lies here at Ista with two lovely ladies and so long as they are here so shall I be." He says as he starts to eat, but gives a smile towards N'tlaya before he looks back to Mia, "So how abut yourself? Ista born and bred?"

"Two?" Miarene's expression turns teasingly flattering. "They must keep you immensely busy then." She moves from the table to the buffet once more and plucks a piece of fruit off one of the plates, a chunk of coconut to nibble on while she chats. "Born. Bred. Never left the island, though my brother did. Weyr life isn't for everyone, even people who've lived here all their life." What N'talya says garners a flicker of Miarene's attention, her mouth quirking at the wingleader's opinion, but says nothing otherwise.

N'talya smiles and starts to eat her meal and says, "You would go Gera, cause I would sent Nikki with you at that point."

A call from the kitchens, "MIA", gets the young woman's attention fast and she shoves the rest of that coconut chip into her mouth and waves, "Duty calls. Have a good one."


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