[PRP]It has been a while [Locke,V'ail, and Anali]

[Meepfur]

"In that case, you must be running short on space by now." It wasn't precisely disapproving - Faranth, her mother was a courtesan - but there was certainly a jab at his being a mercenary in there. They did tend to have a reputation, even when they weren't dragonriders. Mercenaries, sailors...a certain vigorousness, to put it politely, was expected of people who populated such professions. Perhaps not quite to the extent of riders, who some especially bored Holders liked to imagine did little else when they weren't fighting Thread.

"Quite. And such traitors we are, for not immediately abandoning the lives we've built for ourselves, trading it all in to be told what to do." In most Weyrs, Anali would have it better than Locke, at least as far as accomodations and general regard went, but she still had no wish to be outranked or ordered about. She would fight for her freedom, and she had no qualms about fighting dirty.

--

When Lanreth appeared from between and began her descent towards the inn, Banshidheth lifted her head and sent a wordless, subdued yet pleased impression of greeting and give-me-a-moment, and rose from where she had settled to make her way down the road. She wasn't so far away to merit all the drama of leaping up into the air only to glide back down, nor was she so impatient as to find it necessary. A few minutes of walking would do her no harm.

The only outward indication of her pleasure at seeing her clutchmate again was the whirling blue-green of her eyes; she'd never been as chatty as her sister, but then, Lanreth knew that of course. Her answer, short without being abrupt or dimissive due to the faint udnertone of regard, was simply, Sister. Moarteth received a nod.

Shaddaling

 

[Shaddaling]

Meepfur

Locke laughed, tilting back in his chair, relaxed and perhaps happy for a few short moments. “Mmh, sorry to disappoint but it all scars then anything inked.” He had enough scars to tell stories over the cold months and to ache during the same season. “Not that V’ail doesn’t offer mind you, kid loves his craft.”
“Mmh, half debated going back to the camp but I like what I do too much,” And it was safer in a way, certainly his troop didn’t backstab him. Though he had crossed passed with the occasional old brother in arms turned bandit. “Anyhow, you get most things… know what the price is for loads of firestone?”

Lanreth gave a delighted bubbling trill as Banshidheth appeared, trotting over to nuzzle the much larger gold. ‘It has truly been tooo long, ooh I’m glad you look well! Have you flown any cute boys, made them work for you?’ She giggled and pressed into close. ‘How are you and yours?’ Cheerful chattered flowed.

Moarteth shifted, giving Banshidheth a look before giving a draconic shrug of eghn. ‘I see you haven't expired somewhere unpleasant. Good for you.’ She replied simply, and went back to ignoring them both.  

[Meepfur]

"Now, isn't that a rare thing! A mercenary with no tattoos." A mercenary whose son did tattoos, no less. Amusing. "Though I suppose if you have that many scars, you've not much room for them."

"Firestone, hm? I can't say I know from personal experience," she answered, with careful emphasis where it belonged; and it was true, she and hers stuck to more traditional valuables. Stealing firestone would risk the attention and wrath of too many powerful people. "It goes for more where it can't be mined, of course. You're not turning to smuggling, now, are you?"

Banshidheth returned the nuzzle of her small green sister, extending a wing to 'embrace' her. Not in quite awhile, she answered patiently, But I will make them work when I do, as always. She was more accomodating of Lanreth's chattiness than she was of other such vocal dragons, but then, they were clutchmates. We are well. And you?

Moarteth's acknowledgement was answered with another nod, respectful of the older and less boisterous green.

Shaddaling

 

[Shaddaling]

Meepfur

Moarteth shifted, sprawling out comfortably, but attentively listening to the chatter in case she needed to interfere and absentmindedly monitoring her riders emotions. She half trusted Banshidheth to be fair.

Lanreth crooned in delight, leaning against the golden side and comfortable tucker herself against her clutch sib. 'We are well! Mine has new a new ink color he been wanting to try out. I've had some nice flights.'

"Ehh, less smuggling and more figuring out how to get some to make Moarteth temper more even. She been peeved since the thread fell, more then usual." Locke was starting to debate just showing up in the camp to join what ever dragon riders between to Western Weyr and then fight of some thread to smooth out his gals temper.

V'ail entered the tavern and beeline to his father and "As I live and breathe! It has been ages," he proclaimed, gleeful at seeing Anali in a neutral setting. "You look great!"

V'ail snagged a chair, settling close by his father, more encase Locke had too much to drink and had to be rescued from falling out of his chair then for comfort and grinned at Anali. "Where you been of late?"  

[Meepfur]

Banshidheth was content enough to have her clutchmate tucked up against her, for while she was not an especially social creature, and outside of Flights did not crave physical contact or closeness with other dragons, she didn't actively dislike it. And Lanreth was her sister. It was...acceptable. I am glad you are both hale. Even if her attachment was not particularly deep, the words were sincere enough. She would not have wished for any ill to befall the little green.

Anali raised an eyebrow. Locke wanted firestone so that Moarteth could fight Thread, did he? "Getting reckless in your old age."

Not unlike her dragon, the goldrider's reaction to the entrance of her former classmate was subdued - not unpleasant, but neither one of them did enthusiastic, at least not when they were being themselves, and there was no need for much acting at this precise moment. Someone else might have replied with a 'so do you,' but all Anali had was half a smile. That served well enough for her 'good to see you.' As for the question, well. "Now, that would be telling."

Professional secrets and all that.

Shaddaling