(Tyranoth) Ysaeth sees:  Tyranoth breezes in, tentative - a few random pinprinks of so-bright color, then he queries: <<Is yours available?  Mine...wishes to speak.>>

(Tyranoth) [-] Ysaeth replies slowly.  Bells ring in low tones tonight.  <<Terrill is availiable.  He is not happy.>>

(Tyranoth) Ysaeth sees:  Tyranoth -- or his lifemate -- didn't expect him to be.  <<Will you tell him that mine comes, please?>>

(Tyranoth) [-] Ysaeth answers with an affirmative.  <<He knows.>>

(Tyranoth) Ysaeth sees:  Tyranoth leaves it at that, then, falling silent as his rider busies herself with dismounting.

Shoulders slouching, Tyranoth crouches for conveniance ands rumbles smugly as K'mra shimmies from his back.
(Tyranoth) K'mra shuffles toward Inner Weyr.

K'mra enters, hesitant -- "R'il?" she calls quietly, stepping from ledge to weyr.  "I...I came to apologize."  She worries her lip, anxious gaze upon the bronzerider's face.

R'il sits at his table, already work on another piece of wood.  New crib to make, after all.  Looking up, his red eyes look over his weyrmate.  "You don't want to do that," he remarks tonelessly.  "Not after...today.."

"Yes.  Yes, I do."  Tone grows firmer as she approaches, although bitten lip betrays her inner nervousness.  "Whatever happened today doesn't matter - I just wanted to say that I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for being so shardin' stupid."  K'mra pauses, halting nearby to rest her gaze upon the wood, the cavern, her hands -- anywhere, but R'il's face.  "I don't want to fight anymore."

"No, you don't.  K'mra...," he begins, keeping his gaze on her.  "I got drunk today.  And...I woke up in someone else's bed.  So, really, you don't want me...."  Voice is flat, but spiced delicately with bitterness and regret.  Licking his lips, turns back to his carving.

K'mra purses ragged lips, considering.  "It doesn't matter," she finally responds.  "It doesn't.  It happens.  Faranth, it's more my fault than yours -- if I hadn't acted like I did the other night..."  She berates herself, sighing softly.  Finally, she finds the strength to meet R'il's gaze and simply says, "I'm sorry.  If you don't want me around, then I understand."

"Of course I want you around, Kym.  You may not think that, but I do."  R'il looks up again, face a mask.  "Do..will you really want to be with me?  Here, I mean...not in your weyr, but here in m..our weyr?"

"I do, if you'll have me," K'mra replies with the faintest smile, rueful.  "I said a lot of...hurtful things that I really didn't mean."  Bumping into Yelena certainly didn't help her temperment, either.  "I know it's hard to just take it all back, but I'd like to try, if you'd let me."

R'il sets down his knife and his carving, only to stand up and move towards her.  "You don't have to take it back, Kym..I deserved most of what you said. But...that's forgotten now."  Taking a breath, he asks, "Would you like to sit or lie down?"

Grateful, K'mra's smile broadens.  "That'd be welcome - I didn't get much sleep last night," she admits.  She peers at R'il's woodwork, then, and asks curiously, "What are you making?"

R'il glances at the carving.  "A crib."  Eyes slide back to her face, wondering how she's going to take that.  His hand reaches up to touch her forearm, ready to lead her to the bed should she not be upset.

"It'll be a nice crib," K'mra decides -- her attempt, perhaps, at reconciling. Casual - or as close to casuality she can be - she remarks, "I talked to... her today, you know."  She leaves it at that, simply quirking a smile for R'il as she steps closer.

R'il takes a step towards the bed, leading her towards rest.  "You did?  Is..Was she the brat she always is?" he asks, keeping the venom out of his voice.  "Would you like some juice, by the way?"

K'mra can't help but roll her eyes, expressive.  "As usual," she viciously intones; she, however, makes no attempt to hide her dislike.  "She's not, to say the least, the most pleasant of people."  Brownrider peeks up at him, then, commenting wryly, "I'm trying to cut back -- I've had barrels, today.  But thanks."

R'il smiles slightly.  "Why don't you have a seat?" he suggests.  "And I'll get what else my sister sent.  Cleared out all the baby stuff from us at home..."

"She /didn't/."  Aghast -- yet pleased -- K'mra notes, "We're going to have enough things for four babies, by the time she - and all the other relatives - get through sending things."  She does, however, take the indicated seat, carefully lowering herself into the chair's frame.

 (Tyranoth) Tirelth has arrived.
(Tyranoth) Tirelth glides in to a landing, his head averted from Ysaeth as he wirbles to Tyranoth, asking the obvious question. Is K'mra here?

 (Tyranoth) [-] Tirelth swirls his mind around yours in a blizard of remorseful silver flakes. In the spiral shows the question: Is your rider free? Again, a sliver of cerulean swirls, filled with contrition. His rider's emotion, not his own.

R'il nods.  "Yeah.  I even wore one or two them.  They survived seven of us..I think they could handle one more at least..," he remarks, moving to retrieve the three bulky packages from underneath the table.  "Which would you like to open first?"

(Tyranoth) Tirelth sees:  Tyranoth sparks giddy brightness, showering bursts of multi-hued color.  <<Free?  Free enough.>>  Cryptic, perhaps; he retreats from the blue's thoughts with a final dazzle of saffron, subsiding away into oblivion.

"They're practically antiques," K'mra remarks, impressed, peering towards the packages.  "No, you go ahead -- ah.  A'zri's arrived," she announces, then, thoughtful.  "I wonder what she wants.."

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth rumbles a greeting in return to the arriving blue, lids closing, one-by-one, as the obvious is proclaimed -- for why would she not be here, when he is?

(Tyranoth) Tirelth extends a forearm, passively watching as A'zri slides from his back.

R'il flushes, setting the package down and turning towards the entrance to the weyr.  "I have an idea," he murmurs.

(Tyranoth) A'zri slides down, gazing at the two dragons. " Is it safe?" Not for long, if A'zri goes in there, but at the moment... ?

(Tyranoth) Safe as it'll ever be.

(Tyranoth) Ysaeth rumbles slightly, placing his head on his tail.  Perhaps...

K'mra, interest piqued, quirks a brow.  "Do you."  More of a statement than a question, she awaits the newcomer, gaze expectantly turned towards the ledge.

(Tyranoth) A'zri sighs at the both of them. " May I go in?" she asks, somewhat tartly. Dragons just don't understand subtlety.

(Tyranoth) Tyranoth votes more for the blunt aspect of things; faceted eyes regard A'zri, then Tirelth.  Ah, how long will she /procrastinate?/

R'il shrugs again, and calls out, "Come in!"  It's a bit of an avoidance, yes.

(Tyranoth) A'zri will procrastinate as long as she has to before seeing K'mra. And... R'il.

A'zri glides gracefully in from Ysaeth's Ledge.
A'zri slips in, head peeking 'round corner. " K'mra? R'il? I'm not interrupting, am I?"

R'il shakes his head.  "No, not really," he remarks.  "Is there...something we can do for you?"

"No, not at all."  K'mra gestures towards the three bulging packages nearby from her seat, adding, "We were just about to open these - R'il's sister sent them, for the baby."  Babies.  Mentally, she makes the spoken word plural, casting a quick glance down at her ever-enlarging midsection.  "What brings you?"

A'zri twists her fingers together, gaze avoiding R'il's as much as possible. " I wanted to speak with you, Wingleader." So A'z is formal today. Bad sign. Even at her most serious, she's rarely /formal/.

R'il nods slightly, going pale.  "I'll leave you two alone, then," he replies. "I'll be in...um, the baby's room, I suppose."  He inclines his head at the bluerider, then heads for the 'nook'.

K'mra straightens slightly, nodding awknowledgement.  "In private, I assume?"  An apologetic glance is slanted R'il's way, but brownrider turns attention to the visitor.  "What do you have on your mind?" she queries politely, gesturing towards a nearby chair.  "Go ahead - sit down."

A'zri shakes her head. " I'd like to remain standing." So she can run when the screaming begins. " First off... has R'il said... /anything/ to you about me?"

K'mra offers only a shrug - each to their own.  "About you?"  Brow furrows, and Windscorcher's Wingleader-on-hiatus mulls.  "No - I don't believe so.  Why?"

A'zri sighs softly and drops into a chair, legs too weak to hold her up. " K'mra... something happened earlier."

"Earlier -- as in, today-earlier?"  K'mra perceives whatever it is that the bluerider wishes to speak about, and nods slightly.  "Mm.  R'il told me - he just didn't tell me it was you."

A'zri cocks her head. " Did he tell you we didn't mean to?" A soft sigh. " K'mra, I'm so sorry."

Perhaps K'mra's just in a forgiving mood, or maybe it's a result of the earlier exchange of words -- or maybe, and more likely, it's both.  "It's okay," she soothes.  "I understand.  Really.  It's happened - it's over, it's done with."  And, tempting though it may be, Kym isn't about to risk timing it back to erase mistakes.

A'zri sighs softly and balls her fists, pressing them to her eyes. " I'm not in the habit of seducing other womens' weyrmates... especially when my heart belongs to someone else."

"You, at least, didn't /mean/ to do it," K'mra remarks, shifting in her chair. "Oh?"  An eyebrow lifts, and she asks, interested, "Who have you been seeing, then?"  Besides R'il.

A'zri hasn't even been seeing R'il. " No, I did not," she replies firmly, sapphire eyes sparkling. " It was a mistake." One she enjoyed, but... and blush crosses her cheeks, deepening to rose. " I'm not actually /seeing/ anyone..."

K'mra rephrases.  "Well, then, who's -- to use your own words -- who's got your heart?"  Even if she notices the crimson coloring of A'zri's cheeks, brownrider doesn't ask, and doesn't comment.

A'zri blinks a few times, obviously swallowing. " No one," she murmurs hastily. " No one.. slip of the tongue." And it was, as is evident. That's one secret she hadn't intended to let slip.

"Ach, I don't believe /that./"  Irrepressible, K'mra leans forward, conspirator-style -- "You can tell me.  I won't breath a word to anyone.  Promise."

A'zri sighs. " I don't know, Kym... I don't really want her finding out." Ooops. " Uhm.."

K'mra moues a pout.  "You can trust me.  I won't let it go past my lips."  Let's see - if there's five hundred riders, and roughly half of them are female, that only leaves about two hundred-some candidates for A'zri's affections.

A'zri sighs softly, raking her fingers through her hair as she mumbles a name, one that sounds suspiciously like a cross between Eilish and K'mra's own.

"Speak up," K'mra requests, hopeful.  "I can't hear you, when you mutter 'neath your breath like that."

A'zri sighs again. " I'shra," is the somewhat cross reply, as if bluerider isn't too fond of the idea herself.

"I'shra -- I'shra?"  Brownrider contemplates, nodding thoughtfully.  "She's nice enough –“ Despite her lapses of wine-induced babbling, in which she gives away facts that K'mra would rather remain unheard of and forgotten. "A good choice." Glance goes towards crib-room, then, and she inquires, "Shall we let R'il come back in?"

A'zri shrugs. " I suppose so," she replies softly. " I see no reason to keep him locked away." Except he still makes bluerider uneasy. " If only I knew how /she/ felt."

K'mra offers, "Ask her."  It worked for Kym, anyhow.  Voice is raised, then, and she calls out, "You can come back, R'il -- we're done with our, um, little discussion."

R'il re-emerges from the baby's room.  "Um.  Is everything alright?" he asks, striding over to where K'mra sits.

A'zri shudders. " You mean... actually /ask/ her? Let her know how /I/ feel?"

K'mra simply smiles and nods, benign.  "Perfectly."  A glance is given to A'zri, and she notes, "You'll never how she feels, otherwise.  You've nothing to lose."

R'il frowns slightly, knowing his missed a large part of the conversation.  Hesistantly, he begins to ask a question, the shakes his head.  "K'mra's right," he approves instead.

When all else fails, just /agree./  It's the safest thing possible.

A'zri blinks quietly. " Alright. Maybe when i see her next." Maybe.

"Good."  K'mra can't help but yawn; with a small, rueful grin, she remarks, "I didn't get much sleep, last night - I think I'm going to go take a nap, if you don't mind."

A'zri chuckles and rises. " No problem. And... thanks for understanding, Kym."