02.May.14, 01:55 AM
The Kitchens were much too crowded and busy that day for Syra and much of the work had been done already anyway. Syra sighed, looking at her reflection and turning sideways to see what she knew wouldn't be there. Woman's business. she grumbled, and dropped her gaze from the mirror. Nothing. Good. It was too early to see anything anyway, she knew. And there would not be anything to see, she vowed. Her leather bag was propped open on her bed, sweet soapsand lightly scented with lavender, a towel, some drawing materials nestled inside and a snack from the Dining Hall making up her gear for the trip to the hot springs. She took a little jar of numbweed salve from the desk and tossed it on top, never knowing when it might come in handy for herself or anyone she may encounter. Gazing around her room, Syra tried to think on whether she would pack anything else, but her mind was more focused on other issues. With another resigned sigh, she took a peek at her outfit and decided it included much too many articles of clothing. She removed her shirt, and reached for a lighter, more flowy shirt that wouldn't interfere with her movement, or make her overheat.
Syra also removed her long boots, replacing them with a pair of moccasins that were hidden below her loose fitting pants. Standing, she flipped the top of the bag closed and slid the strap over her shoulder before heading out the door. The hallway was empty for once, and her exit wasn't noted by anyone significant. Brushing a long braid over her shoulder, Syra carefully maneuvered her way out of the housing and toward the edge of the Weyr where she knew the natural springs bubbling away happily. Just imagining the hot water soaking away her soreness put a fire under the woman's feet and her fast pace left no question that she didn't want to be stopped.
Not too long later, and with no one trying to stop her, she reached the Hot Springs, only to find that there seemed to be someone already occupying her favorite pool. Clearing her throat Syra raised her voice enough to be heard so she wouldn't startle the man in the pool. "You could talk to the flits, or I could join you and you can talk to me instead?" she grinned with a teasing little tone, noting the pile of clothing not far from the pool. "Or would you prefer to be left alone?" Coming around in front of the mystery man, Syra discovered that it was none other than the Greenrider A'liran. She had had a few conversations with the man at the Dining Hall, but no particularly extended interaction.
Instead of waiting too terribly long for an answer, Syra sat at the edge of the spring and kicked off her moccasins, dipping her feet into the pool. She could easily leave if he told her to, but at least for now her aching feet would get a break.
Syra also removed her long boots, replacing them with a pair of moccasins that were hidden below her loose fitting pants. Standing, she flipped the top of the bag closed and slid the strap over her shoulder before heading out the door. The hallway was empty for once, and her exit wasn't noted by anyone significant. Brushing a long braid over her shoulder, Syra carefully maneuvered her way out of the housing and toward the edge of the Weyr where she knew the natural springs bubbling away happily. Just imagining the hot water soaking away her soreness put a fire under the woman's feet and her fast pace left no question that she didn't want to be stopped.
Not too long later, and with no one trying to stop her, she reached the Hot Springs, only to find that there seemed to be someone already occupying her favorite pool. Clearing her throat Syra raised her voice enough to be heard so she wouldn't startle the man in the pool. "You could talk to the flits, or I could join you and you can talk to me instead?" she grinned with a teasing little tone, noting the pile of clothing not far from the pool. "Or would you prefer to be left alone?" Coming around in front of the mystery man, Syra discovered that it was none other than the Greenrider A'liran. She had had a few conversations with the man at the Dining Hall, but no particularly extended interaction.
Instead of waiting too terribly long for an answer, Syra sat at the edge of the spring and kicked off her moccasins, dipping her feet into the pool. She could easily leave if he told her to, but at least for now her aching feet would get a break.