Canine Grooming

Azarin
At a height of nearly 5'10 this young man is hardly one of the shortest people on Pern. His cool gray eyes look out from underneath dark, straight eyebrows. A fairly straight narrow nose lies right in the middle of his face, a minute scar on one side only perceivable because it is lighter than his tanned skin. High cheekbones make his cheeks look hallow, giving him an almost gaunt appearance, which his sharp chin does nothing to amend. Wiry muscles of arm and leg, and a slim overall figure gives him an rather menacing look, though the light in his eyes is quick to turn warm. Dark hair, growing longer again after a brief encounter with shortness, falls limply around his ears and across his eyes, a constant annoyance that he will not admit to.
A simple knot of three cords twisted together hangs from his left shoulder. Orange, black and white announces him to be a Candidate at Ista Weyr.
Midnight's blue is the color of the sleeveless shirt, hanging limply from Aza's shoulders. Stitched into the thin fabric on the back is a large dragon, embroidered in silver thread. His tattered black pants are cut off just above the knee, loose threads, caressing the tanned skin of his thighs. Thick straps of black-dyed leather keeps well-fitting sandals in place on his long narrow feet.
Azarin is 19 Turns, 7 months, and 16 days old.
He is awake and looks alert.

You leave the candidates barracks.

Living Cavern (#2070J)
This is the vaulted, high-ceilinged main gathering area of Ista Weyr, where riders, residents and drudges congregate to socialize and make merry. Or even just to eat. Long, sturdy tables fill most of the cavern in neat rows, two of them hemming about the hearths that line the northeastern curve of the cavern. Sideboards by the kitchen entrance groan beneath a constant burden of food and drinks, kept fresh by the cooks and lower caverns staff.
Maralia is here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchen Lower Caverns

Maralia
She is a fairly tall, athleticly thin and leggy blonde. Her blonde hair falls to just above her waist in a tightly woven braide bound with a strip of leather at the end. She has eyes that are an unusual blend of blue and green, and they sparkle like the waters of the lakes on a sunny day.
On her shoulder is a neatly tied knot, of a single white cord twisted with cords of black and orange, showing that she is a current candidate at Ista Weyr.
Black work pants encase her long legs, before the hems disappear into the tops of her boots. A, somewhat faded blue, mid-weight shirt hugs her upper body and is tucked into the waistband of her pants. On her dainty feet are heavy well cared for leather boots. Over the top of her clothing, she wears a somewhat bulky leather work coat, the hood of which she keeps drawn about her head and face when out of doors. The whole outfit is very warm for such weather, but the coat gives her a bit of a childish look. What she wears may be faded and worn looking, but is well mended and cared for.
Maralia is 18 Turns, 6 months, and 14 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 4 minutes.

Dragging Tapau's canine Marly after him, Azarin enters the caverns, muttering encouraging words to the animal. A brush in one hand reveals his purpose for having Marly in tow. "Hullo, Maralia," he says cheerily to the girl as he passes her on his way to the Bowl. "Like t'come outside with me'n Marly here? It's so stuffy in here..."

Maralia smiles and nods "That I think I would very much enjoy."

"She needs a brushing bad," Aza informs his fellow candidate, motioning to the canine. "I had to walk her in the rain the other day, see? It just wouldn't let up. I even waited all day long for it to stop.. C'mon, Marly." Tossing his head toward the exit, he gives a light tug on the line attached to Marly's collar. "We'll find a nice cool spot in the shade outside."

You walk out of the Living Caverns into the bowl.

Eastern Bowl
This is the far eastern curve of Ista Weyr's bowl, from where the breathtaking, jagged peaks of the caldera pierce the sky like the points of a rocky crown. Very distantly to the west you can see the gleam of deep blue water, and the rising cloud of the waterfall's mist. The huge, aerial opening to the hatching grounds yawns in the northeastern wall and the looming precognitors of Thread, the Star Stones, pierce the sky above it. In the southern bowl, the gaped opening of the infirmary and ground weyr frame the snoozing bodies of injured dragons, or the occasional replete pair twined about in the aftermath of their flight.
It is a summer afternoon. Muggy heat oppresses the island in a thick velvet cloak.
You see Rojoth, Gwynhwyvath, Ahzraelth, and Hwyllth here.
Obvious exits:
NorthEast Bowl Central Bowl Living Cavern Storage

Maralia walks out of the Living Caverns.

Maralia steps out of the living cavern and into the heat of the day. "How can it be so rainy and awful one day and hot and sunny the next or rather a few days later."

Frowning, Azarin surveys the Bowl trying to find a spot with shade. "Too hot if you ask me..." he says, giving her a crooked grin. "But then I'm from Fort." Clicking his tongue at the canine, ordering her to follow, he begins trudging toward one end of the Weyr Bowl where it seems to be more shady, thanks to a couple of scrawny looking trees. "This'll have t'do, 'less you wanna trek all the way to the beach?"

Maralia shakes her head no as she fellows him. "That will work very well, it's to hot to walk all the way to the beach right now." finding a place to sit she does so tryign to make her self as comfy as possible.

Azarin nods, his eyes glittering as he smiles at her. "You're right 'bout that," he says, squatting next to Marly, releasing the clasp on her collar. "Stay!" he tells the canine in a firm voice. The candidate wasn't really feeling like chasing after a canine in this heat. Sighing, he runs a hand over the gray mutt's coat, ruffling the long hairs. "She really should be washed first, y'know.." he mentions, over his shoulder to Maralia. Tapau hadn't mentioned any of the sort, so Aza will just believe that the woman hadn't wanted her canine washed.

Maralia nods and sighs "I wish the lake were closer." looking at the canine for a moment and hmmming.

Digging in, so to speak, Azarin runs the brush over Marly's coat, the canine growling slightly at the treatment. "You should be enjoying this, Marly," he tells the animal, his voice calm and cheerful as the brush catches a snag. Pulling at it, he finds it good and well stuck in the hairs. And Marly certainly isn't liking it either, deep growls of discontent announcing that. "I shoulda brought scissors. Or my knife." Grimacing, he tugs harder at the brush trying to release it from the snag. An action which only results in Marly turning her head to snap at the candidate, the candidate falling to his behind and the canine running off. Just what Aza did /not/ want to happen. "Marlyyyyy! Come back!" he yells, shading his eyes to stare after the escaped animal, though he's making no move to go after her. "I guess we'll just have to go catch her..." We, not me. Hehe.

Maralia looks over at Aza with shaded eye and a raised eyebrow "I guess you shall, but if you ask real nice I might help you." a laugh is in her voice as she says this.

Azarin glances back at Maralia as he gets off his behind, brushing dust of his shorts. Giving her a deep bow, he winks, grinning, "might I impose on asking your help to catch the mutt?" he asks, his voice kept in an 'official' sort of tone that a messenger might use for speaking to a Lord Holder. "She's..." Turning back to sweep the Bowl with a keen-eyed look, his face falls. "Where'd she go!? She was right there. Over by that boulder." Pointing, he takes a few steps in that direction, his eyes now darting here, there and everywhere looking for Marly the Canine. "Tapau'll flame me if I don't find her... "

Maralia chuckles and stands stepping towarsd the boulder she pulls a meat roll from her pocket "Here Marly, would you like this" calling softly to the canine as she wallks towards her. "COme here sweetheart I'll not hurt you."

Eyeing the human coming toward her carefully, Marly's tail wags slightly in the anticipation of food, though she doesn't come closer to the female human. After all, that mean brush yielding man is with her. Right behind her. "C'mon Marly. We're not gonna hurt you," Azarin says softly, glancing at Maralia with a grateful smile. Creeping slowly toward the canine, a step behind his fellow candidate, Aza makes a loop of the leash he'd picked up from the ground. "I should be able to catch her.. If I can get close enough to get this 'round her neck." He /had/ been a hunter after all. Very important to remember.

Maralia nods slowly and offers the animal the meatroll "come on girl lets get that nasy brush from your coat shall we" speaking to Marly in a calm quiet voince.

Sitting, Marly still keeps a close eye on the approaching humans. Food. Leash. Bad Man. Woman with Food. Being a canine, she opts for the Food and sits quietly waiting for Maralia to give her the meatroll. Meanwhile, Azarin sneaks behind her and slips the looped leash over her head, tightening the cord. "There! That wasn't so hard after all," he says to his fellow candidate beaming a smile at her, while motioning to the canine. "Maybe you should give her half now, and the other half when we get this brush out of her coat?" he suggests, kneeling in the dust to examine the knotted hair. "I really think we'll need scissors for this.. I hope Tapau won't notice."

Maralia nods "I think your right" this said as she feeds Marly the rol.

"I'll take her back inside," Azarin says while putting the collar back on the canine and taking off the looped leash, attaching that to the collar. "Maybe I'll even wash her in the baths," he continues, winking at Maralia with a wicked smile on his face. Well, it'd be better than trekking all the way to the lake in this heat. Pulling at his shirt, he finds that it's already soaked through at the back. "Wanna come? We can get something cold to drink on the way.."

Maralia shakes her head "I have to go change the glows in the galleries. I shall catch up with you in a bit."
OOC: Maralia says "I have to go mykids are up."
Maralia looks distracted.
Maralia has disconnected.

You go into the Living Caverns.

Living Cavern (#2070J)
This is the vaulted, high-ceilinged main gathering area of Ista Weyr, where riders, residents and drudges congregate to socialize and make merry. Or even just to eat. Long, sturdy tables fill most of the cavern in neat rows, two of them hemming about the hearths that line the northeastern curve of the cavern. Sideboards by the kitchen entrance groan beneath a constant burden of food and drinks, kept fresh by the cooks and lower caverns staff.
Mesopha is here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchen Lower Caverns

Azarin comes through, dragging a canine on a leash behind him. A canine with a brush stuck to its back. Mumbling a greeting to Mesopha, he ties the leash to a table-leg and disappears into the kitchens only to re-appear moments later, carrying a large knife, heading straight toward the canine. "Now you just sit still, Marly, y'hear..." he says, kneeling next to the canine.

Mesopha sits quietly in a corner, sipping juice and eating meatrolls, muttering as she goes over sheet after sheet of parchment or hide. She glances up, lets out a little exclamation of surprise at the sight of the dog, and continues to stare, this sort of drooly confused look on her face.

Azarin doesn't waste much time, but takes the knife to the canine's coat while she's still sitting calmly next to the table. Taking hold of the brush, he lifts it far enough to allow space between it and the canine's skin and then the candidate cuts. Marly gives off a surprised yelp as part of her coat is cut away, and she struggles to get away from the mean man who's already treated her to pain more than once today. "Well, it's not /my/ fault you have such a scruffy coat, is it?" Aza says to the canine putting the knife away, and starting to clean the brush. Looking up at Mesopha, he grins slightly nodding at the mutt next to him, "Tapau insisted I brush her straight away," he explains with a shrug of his tanned shoulders.

Mesopha
Tall and lanky, Mesopha isn't much to look at as far as her form is concerned; her narrow hips and almost boyishly flat chest leave a tad bit to be desired in that department. But there is an undeniable grace that taints her walk, giving her a confident swagger that suggests a past experience with runners. Well toned muscles shift quite nicely in her arms and legs when she moves, affirming the vigorous activity being a dragonrider entails you to. Impossibly vermillion curls frame her face with crisp ringlets of flame, bringing out the color in her vibrant emerald eyes and deepening her freckles, which, at the moment, are in abundance due to summer sun. Wild and impetuous, she is the uintessential red-head, with little care for more than the finer things in life; fun, wine, and friends. All of the above, and all in excess!
On her right shoulder is the intricate orange and brown loop of a Wingsecond at Ista Weyr, a brown streak intertwining to indicate the color of her lifemate.
She is wearing a sleeveless, midriff bearing tunic of the deepest green, with silver aspen leaves embroidered around the neckline. The bare midriff is adorned with a thin silver chain, and below that are a pair of baggy brown pants. Her black wherhide boots are scuffed and worn, but still in good condition. (Good, meaning that they are still on her feet!) Daedra is curled around the back of Mesopha's neck, her head poking out through vermillion curls as she measures you with a calculating eye.
Mesopha is 29 Turns and 21 days old.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Carrying:
Vile Vial
Daedra
Brighter, sunnier...heck, even giddier.

Mesopha arches an eyebrow. "Well, looks like you've got your work cut out for you. It'll take /days/ to get that stuff brushed." She ponders a moment. "Maybe try some oil on that. make it easier. Then give it a bath?"

Sitting crosslegged on the floor, Azarin tilts his head as he looks up at the rider. "Y'know.. I was thinking about doing that... But I didn't wanna go all the way to the lake in this heat." So call him lazy. And let's just not mention where he'd /planned/ on going after releasing the brush from Marly's coat, hmm? "She's a nice enough canine, though. Even if she /did/ try'n bite me... But that was my fault, y'know. For getting this brush stuck in her coat." Waving the afore mentioned instrument in the air, the candidate reaches out a hand to pet the animal on her head, receive a growl in return.

Mesopha chuckles. Poor thing. "Well, just use the baths. plenty of oil in there, and if I'm not mistaken, someone other than you has to clean the baths tonight." she winks, but doesn't add to that. And gets back to her paperwork.

"You mean... They won't mind if I wash her in the baths," Azarin asks, in a low whisper, his eyes darting around the cavern to spot potential snitches. Eyeing the canine, then the rider, he grins and gets to his feet, releasing the leash from the table leg and heads for the inner caverns.

You head into the Living Quarters.

*** Disconnected ***

Aza's History

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