15.May.13, 03:46 PM
Oblivious to his dragon's sarcasm, M'din sighed mournfully, "Poor Gemmi. I am not a fancy man." His young princess of a daughter enjoyed the finer things in life, the prettier the better. The burly brownrider silently consoled himself as he sat in the shade beside the Craft Hall, shadows were the only cool part of the Weyr in the summertime, recalling the meeting he arranged with one of the most talented weavers at Katila earlier in the week. He fervently hoped Jisralna could embroider one of his shirts before the party. In the leather bag beside him were half dozen blouses with which the less-practiced weavers could potentially hone their talents, if Jisralna accepted the temporary donation, of course. M'din made a mental note to specifically ask for the shirts to be returned to him when the trainees were finished with their improvements. He had no eye for fashion, and would be proud to wear even the most unskilled embroidery.
Cracking his beefy knuckles, he wondered what design Gemmi would most enjoy seeing. Maybe an embroidered fire lizard, like her green flit doll, or a little brown Armath on his pocket. He should have asked Michin before meeting with Jisralna, as the two youngest half-siblings were always in one another's company and the quiet boy always knew his sister's preferences. Thoughtfully scratching his beard, he decided he would just have to get one of everything.
Above him, Armath's neck curved down from the roof to peer at his rider. He loftily drawled,