14.Oct.17, 03:43 PM
R’nya tilted his head, and tipped the girl a rakish wink. “I have escaped their claws for the time being,” he said, amused. It had taken most of the day to get both his tasks done, and avoid undue harassment from the folks responsible for giving him more work. It wasn’t their fault, they were, after all, just doing their job. But it made for a long day, and R’nya was looking forward to enjoying some down time, and an early bedtime (hopefully the children would be agreeable and go to sleep right away…) A man can dream!
“She is,” R’nya’s smile was warm and soft at the mention of Rhaedalyn, “She has the girls today; Varlea has a cold.” R’nya and Rhaedalyn’s daughter, Alyren, was a sturdy toddler of three, but her playmate and adopted sister, Varlea – who was a quirky and spunky (almost) five turn old – was prone to getting ill. Between the pair of them, they kept the Weyrleaders on their toes! Not that R’nya would have it any other way, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hopeful that Rhaedalyn would fall pregnant again. He would love an army of offspring, but two or three more would be perfect!
R’nya’s gaze shifted, following the line of direction he’d seen Oenthi glancing in during their conversation, and sharp eyes picked out the lounging gold. He studied her, though the distance was too great for any real detail to show. He turned his attention back upon Oenthi, the corner of his lips quirking up slightly though the smile didn’t really take shape. “Still no sign of Rising?” Two wasn’t too old, nor too young to rise. It was really only a matter of time; some of the older golds still hadn’t had their maiden flight yet. R’nya just didn’t want to be taken by surprise when the girl did decide to take to the skies. He’d like to bring in some of the bronzeriders from Telgar and Ista to give her more choice. As soon as she started looking proddy, he’d send out word, but until then there was little to do but wait.
“She is,” R’nya’s smile was warm and soft at the mention of Rhaedalyn, “She has the girls today; Varlea has a cold.” R’nya and Rhaedalyn’s daughter, Alyren, was a sturdy toddler of three, but her playmate and adopted sister, Varlea – who was a quirky and spunky (almost) five turn old – was prone to getting ill. Between the pair of them, they kept the Weyrleaders on their toes! Not that R’nya would have it any other way, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t hopeful that Rhaedalyn would fall pregnant again. He would love an army of offspring, but two or three more would be perfect!
R’nya’s gaze shifted, following the line of direction he’d seen Oenthi glancing in during their conversation, and sharp eyes picked out the lounging gold. He studied her, though the distance was too great for any real detail to show. He turned his attention back upon Oenthi, the corner of his lips quirking up slightly though the smile didn’t really take shape. “Still no sign of Rising?” Two wasn’t too old, nor too young to rise. It was really only a matter of time; some of the older golds still hadn’t had their maiden flight yet. R’nya just didn’t want to be taken by surprise when the girl did decide to take to the skies. He’d like to bring in some of the bronzeriders from Telgar and Ista to give her more choice. As soon as she started looking proddy, he’d send out word, but until then there was little to do but wait.