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Kleos looked at the table.

The table, being merely rough planks of salvaged wood hammered together to make a flat surface and then hammered onto more planks of wood to make legs, did not look back.

Kleos poked it. It wobbled. Kleos sighed and wiped sweat from her brow, thinking longingly of her smooth polished desk back at Malvren; some dirty revolutionist probably had their boots up on it. Still, a desk was a desk and she took a certain amount of pride in having hammered this thing together herself from scrap. She could always make it sturdier later on when the sun was not so strong, and she was not so tired. Why did it have to be so hot here all of the time?

Unlike her rider Moriath was rather fond of Trine's weather. She would rather be at Malvren, her Weyr, but the weather and the freshwater lakes were a small consolation. she agreed, rousing herself from her doze with a huge yawn and then twisting her head around to rub at a bit of Thread scarring that itched; a cool swim sounded like a very good idea indeed.

Unconsciously rubbing the scarring on her face in sympathy Kleos smiled and caressed the crimson's foreleg. "I shall be but a moment." Turning away she picked up her wobbly table and moved it up against the outside wall of the shelter she was currently occupying so that it wouldn't be in anyone's way. With that done she ducked into the rough structure - it was dark, close, oppressive, nothing like her air weyr - grabbed Moriath's riding harness from its peg, and then re-emerged into the bright sunlight.

Although it was only a very short flight to the water's edge she checked her straps as meticulously as ever as she fastened them onto her scarred powerful beauty. Carelessness over equipment and flight safety was after all the mark of a poor rider, so her weyrlingmaster had told her and she had taken his words very seriously indeed. Even so it didn't take her very long to make sure everything was in place and secure, so it was only a couple of minutes after her initial suggestion that she was fastening the straps over her thighs and to her belt.





Rumbling assent Moriath trotted forward and sprang into the air, large wings unfurling like great red sails to catch the light wind. As they weren't going too far she didn't strive for too much height; a safe altitude of two dragonlenghts was more than sufficient. As they approached the edge of the lake the crimson cast around firstly to find a good spot and secondly to make sure it was safe for her to descend, which it was. Angling her wings down Moriath swept towards the ground with Kleos lying low over her neck, and just before touch down the crimson back-winged to lose a little speed before her feet hit the ground and she loped to a halt. It looked like a perfect spot to her; nice and sandy with a gentle slope down into the water. There was a young male dragon a short way off but she didn't pay much attention to him.

Kleos meanwhile sat back up and - sending a feeling of affection to her dragon - set about unfastening the riding straps.

Freed from the straps Kleos smiled to the younger rider and jumped lightly to the ground. "Indeed my lady," she replied with a small bow, "Kleos of Moriath, delighted to make your acquaintance." She was a pretty girl; a lovely figure with bright hair and bright eyes. She wasn't soft to look at though, it was clear she knew hard work and had some strength to her but then every Weyrling knew hard work she supposed.

Moriath replied with a deep rumble, in a good enough mood not to be dismissive of a male. Anyway, he was a silver so that was rather better than a bronze, brown, or blue; while atype's bodies might come into the world weaker and remain more vulnerable throughout their lives, Moriath had always believed they had finer minds than the old colours. Moriath also believed, of course, that females had better minds than any males. she added, sitting comfortably back on her haunches for the time being.

Kleos took the hand and bowed down to kiss it. "Beautiful names for a beautiful pair; I am delighted to meet you," she said as she straightened up again with a smile. "Trine has no native atypical wingleaders, let alone females ones at the moment, it is true," she went on, pleased to answer a direct question from a girl clearly after her own heart. "It is far from rare for silvers to become wingleaders however, the fact is simply that there are fewer silvers than bronzes and that... well bronzes do have an easier time gaining such ranks, just as - so far as I have seen - silvers have a greater chance than browns." Shaking her head slightly Kleos gave a sad sigh. "My own wingleader rode a silver, but alas he and His perished in the first fall.... But I must confess that it has been some time since there was a female wingleader; it's hardly unheard of in the history of Trine and Malvren but it is uncommon."

What could she tell Hekate that could be of any help? Little enough she feared, she still wasn't sure herself how it had all happened. It seemed forever ago, and also a moment ago that she had been promoted. "My tips would be... never miss a chance to show others what you can do," a decisive nod. "Some will no doubt call you a show off, or say that you seek to curry favour with the higher ranks. Some people will truly despise you if you try to rise through the ranks; the road will not get easier if a position of power, prestige and responsibility is what you seek."


As it seemed they were going to get into a conversation Moriath decided to lie down indead of sitting, putting her head closer to the level of the young male's. the crimson rumbled, pleased that the silver realised and was prepared to acknowledge her prowess. There was nothing at all wrong with males when they were pleasant and respectful. she added after a moment.