24.Oct.22, 01:25 AM
Already her mouth watered at the thought. “You remember correctly. I do rather like fish.” It was a weakness of hers, really. She may have tired of it during her days South, but anymore it seemed almost a rarity. It seldom traveled or preserved well, and often had to be consumed fairly fresh or else the consumer risked illness. Now, too, it was one of the few things she trusted not to be poisoned in some capacity, as the required freshness meant there often wasn’t time to taint it between catching and eating. A deep whiff was taken, enjoying the tantalizing smell before savoring a bite.
Brown eyes narrowed, watching the man carefully as he spoke. The bronzerider truly did have astronomical expectations set. It was no wonder he felt down when he failed to meet them. Clicking her tongue, she gave him a small shake of her head, expression somewhere between gentle chastisement and the understanding known by one who’s also suffered loss. Except he had, at least, made an effort to move on quickly. A pang of guilt over how own turns of grief pulled at her chest, and with a tilt of her head she dismissed it, turning her attention outward to K’dar. “You’ve done what you’ve been able to, and that’s more than enough for now.” With a gentle, weary smile, Lassalla took a seat, interrupting her own thoughts briefly as she took another bite. “We can worry about disaster planning later. For now, let’s just enjoy the company we find ourselves in.”
The idea of the heat was perhaps a bit unpleasant, but she had to admit she found it far more bearable than the intense cold that High Reaches promised. Neryseth certainly seemed happy with the prospect. “Mhm.” The woman nodded, humming around a piece of fruit. “The two youngest, certainly. Kessa is still thinking on it.” She flashed the bronzerider another smile, tinted with pride and some satisfaction. “White frankly, I think she might stay if it means potential for Igen’s new Weyrleader to come retrieve her from time to time. She’d rather enjoy that, I think.” Her eldest did have a bit of flare for the dramatic, at times.
“Ooh…” the woman coo’d, eyes growing wide and quirking her eyebrows briefly at the thought of new recipes. “I like the sound of that.” She popped another bite of fish into her mouth, thoroughly enjoying the assortment of seasonings she could taste on it, and wondering what flavors might be in store for her at their new Weyr. “It’ll be interesting to see how the kitchens adapt. I imagine a lot more drying and salting, since it’ll be too hot to preserve things in other ways.” She’d had dried and preserved fruits before, the methods preserved and carried by traders to Gathers, and absently she thought those might become a favorite snack. “I’m excited to see what new delicacies await us.”
A look was cast toward the dragon room and the ledge beyond, where Neryseth and Tiberuth rested in the sunshine, a thought occurring to the woman. “And I’ll bet with the heat, the Weyr lake sees more action at all seasons. Here it’s damn near frozen in the winter. It’s no Ista or Katila, but I bet it’ll be nice.”
Brown eyes narrowed, watching the man carefully as he spoke. The bronzerider truly did have astronomical expectations set. It was no wonder he felt down when he failed to meet them. Clicking her tongue, she gave him a small shake of her head, expression somewhere between gentle chastisement and the understanding known by one who’s also suffered loss. Except he had, at least, made an effort to move on quickly. A pang of guilt over how own turns of grief pulled at her chest, and with a tilt of her head she dismissed it, turning her attention outward to K’dar. “You’ve done what you’ve been able to, and that’s more than enough for now.” With a gentle, weary smile, Lassalla took a seat, interrupting her own thoughts briefly as she took another bite. “We can worry about disaster planning later. For now, let’s just enjoy the company we find ourselves in.”
The idea of the heat was perhaps a bit unpleasant, but she had to admit she found it far more bearable than the intense cold that High Reaches promised. Neryseth certainly seemed happy with the prospect. “Mhm.” The woman nodded, humming around a piece of fruit. “The two youngest, certainly. Kessa is still thinking on it.” She flashed the bronzerider another smile, tinted with pride and some satisfaction. “White frankly, I think she might stay if it means potential for Igen’s new Weyrleader to come retrieve her from time to time. She’d rather enjoy that, I think.” Her eldest did have a bit of flare for the dramatic, at times.
“Ooh…” the woman coo’d, eyes growing wide and quirking her eyebrows briefly at the thought of new recipes. “I like the sound of that.” She popped another bite of fish into her mouth, thoroughly enjoying the assortment of seasonings she could taste on it, and wondering what flavors might be in store for her at their new Weyr. “It’ll be interesting to see how the kitchens adapt. I imagine a lot more drying and salting, since it’ll be too hot to preserve things in other ways.” She’d had dried and preserved fruits before, the methods preserved and carried by traders to Gathers, and absently she thought those might become a favorite snack. “I’m excited to see what new delicacies await us.”
A look was cast toward the dragon room and the ledge beyond, where Neryseth and Tiberuth rested in the sunshine, a thought occurring to the woman. “And I’ll bet with the heat, the Weyr lake sees more action at all seasons. Here it’s damn near frozen in the winter. It’s no Ista or Katila, but I bet it’ll be nice.”