You walk down to the lake.

Fort Weyr - Lake Shore
This lake shares many features common to mountain lakes -- a brilliant blue jewel nestled amongst the rocks. The waters are crystal clear, and the north shore slopes gently before abruptly falling away into the depths. This lake does have one significant differentiating feature, however. The south shore of the lake is a tumbled mass of rubble, rock and earth of an ancient rockslide smoothed only by the elements in the intervening years. This rubble, as well as the rather sheer east and west faces, makes for the north shore to be the only one easily accessible.
The seasons shift around the lake in a timeless flow. Waters grow choppy as autumn blends the summer calm with winters coming fury. The shoreline soaks in the heat of the day and provides a pleasant strolling area in the evening hours as long as the weather remains tempered, releasing the heat of the day to the cool of the night. In the early morning a layer of frost can sometimes be found dappled over the shoreline though the waters remain liquid.


It's not long past the dinner hour; the skies purple into dusk, steadily making moons and stars that much more visible. Seated near the lake's shore, Mharen's legs are crossed, lanky, sweater-wrapped frame awkwardly supported by her arms pressing to the ground, head tilted vaguely upward. Surely she had an actual purpose in being here, but with her weaponry unbuckled and placed just to the side, and her expression, distant, she's undoubtedly lost it to some other train of thought.

Dinner might of passed, but it hasn't stopped Kairhys from snagging himself a meatroll from the serving table before heading out towards the lake. He nibbles away on it as he wanrders, brown eyes darting here and there without any real sense of purpose. His expression is one of passing interest alone, pausing now and then to admire the branch of a tree or merely the beauty of the night sky. He's got on a pair of thick mahogany colored leather pants, several layers beneath a long tweed coat in muted browns that's securely buttoned and belted, a crimson woolen scarf tied and tucked around his neck, and soft fur lined skin gloves over his hands. Feet are dressed in a pair of weather-proof leather boots in black. It's likely the weaponry on the ground that draws his attention first and foremost Mharen's way, noticing the woman herself in turn. Brows lift, breath visible as he exhales, the cold weather having kissed his cheeks and the tip of his nose a rosy color. He hasn't exactly been stealthy upon his approach to the lake, but there is an air of caution now. "You all right over there?" he asks of her, helping himself to another bite of his meatroll and chewing thoughtfully.

The late night hour normally means that many are retreating to bed, there's no work to be done at such late hour especially when one is to be setting out in the morning. Deitra wanders, however, without reason or cause with her hands tucked into her pockets and grey eyes staring at the ground as she makes her way to the lakeshore. Occasionally a rock comes into her view and the worn boots kick it forward, continuing until it veers off course and out of her range. Eventually, her gaze lifts and the figures upon the beach are spotted. Her head tilts in consideration and her hands are shoved deeper into her pockets, making the paints strain against the belt but not quite pulling them free of her hips. And slowly, she approaches peering at Kairhys then to Mharen. "Hey Mharen. Doin' okay? How'd that flower thing go?" At least she remembers the face to the name she so briefly met. Grey eyes flicker back towards Kairhys and she smiles easily at the man. "Hey. Don't think we've met. 'm Deitra."

Mharen visibly starts, rising on her knees to reflexively reach for her belt before she registers the source of the new voice. Blinking, she slowly settles back onto the ground, stretching her legs out before her. "Never better, " she informs Kairhys crisply, slanting a quick look over him. "Haven't you ever heard of someone getting lost in thought?" While refastening her weapon to her waist, she affords Deitra a tiny nod. "Lady's man got the flower and took it to his lady fair, " she relates dryly. "Beyond that, I haven't a clue and don't care to know."

Kairhys is very tall, so being mistaken for a man is likely something the boy is used to at this point. He may of corrected Deitra if she had addressed him aloud as much, or he could very well have just run with it. Though up close his youth is fairly evident, putting him around fifteen or sixteen turns of age. "Kairhys." he returns for the introduction, fixing his gaze to the woman on the ground when her name was mentioned as if binding the two together in his own mind. "Yeah, I've heard that before. Just never seen someone armed drift off like that. Seems better to keep your mind from wandering when you have something sharp laying around." he muses, offering Mharen a grin before popping the last bite of his snack past his lips and chewing away.

Deitra snorts softly in amusement, "I see. I wouldn't want ta know beyond that, either. What they do is their own business." The hunter chuckles idly and tilts her gaze skywards, her gaze lingering there. "Would you been willin' ta work with me on some of my defense moves later? Gotta friend I want ta help out, but need a bit of refreshin' on it if yer free ta at any time?" Grey eyes drop to look to the guard and the woman grins widely, "if not, figure I can wing it some. Got a guy willing ta be our dummy and get thrown 'round some." Mirthful laughter follows with just a bit of a wicked tinge, before she again quiets and shifts grey eyes towards Kairhys once more and she inclines her head. "Well met and all that." Another scanning look for the younger man and she smiles a little wider. "Where you from, Kairhys?"

"Quite sure of that, are you?" Mharen prompts, but gives the lad an approving look. "You'd be right." For Deitra, her look is longer, appraising. "Alright. I hope you're buying him a drink to make up for being roughed up a few times once you've refreshed your skills." After all, her tone implies, who would do such a thing for nothing in return? Her head tilts slightly in Kairhys' direction at the hunter's inquiry, but it's her only outward display of interest in the answer.

At Mharen's question, Kairhys holds up a finger while he chews and only after finishing and clearing his mouth does he respond. "Pretty much, yeah." There's even a short laugh for that, before his grin widens for the approval and confirmation to the powers of his common sense. He is polite enough to go quiet while the women talk about beating up some poor dude in the name of training. From the looks of it though, the weaver looks vaguely amused about the whole thing, even as he finds a boulder to drop himself onto nearby, seemingly unwilling to do so on the ground. It's probably the mirthful laughter of Deitra that brings Kai back into the fold, brows lifting as the question is asked. When she finishes, his smile turns less smirky into something far more genuine and friendly. "Fort Hold. Yourself?" he asks, dropping a hand behind him on the rock he's chosen to perch, leaning back on it. Apparently this is extended to both women, as brown eyes flick from one to the other.

"'Course I am. Told him he could get as drunk as he wants if he lets two girls beat up on him. I ain't /cruel/. Or, that cruel. Man's got his pride and all." Deitra winks at Mharen, laughing freely. "Thanks. Lookin' forward ta the help. Let me know when you're free? I'm usually good for the afternoons or later in the evening, depending on how long we decide ta be out hunting." Her hands come free of her pockets and lift above her head, stretching out before folding and residing there. Her upper-half turns in consideration of the weaver on a boulder, returning the friendly smile with one of her own. "Here. The Weyr. Born and raised like a proper weyrbrate. Y'know, being fostered off and the like." She winks once more, this time directed towards the weaver there. "Got any interestin' stories ta tell about the Hold?"

Mharen flicks a hand briefly in the direction of the Weyr proper. "I'm finishing up my round of being on the night rotation this sevenday, so you're in luck. I'm sure we'll find a suitable time." Reluctantly, she adds, "I grew up just outside of Fort Hold, if it makes a difference." No exciting stories here, apparently, for she, too, looks to Kairhys for those, half-expectantly. "If you were up at the Hold proper, I'm sure you'll have more engaging tales to offer."

Kairhys glances between the woman with some mild interested now in the discussion of training, though it could very well be in passing. Merely something to do other than stare at the starlight reflected on the lake. He nods to both reponses for his returned inquiry, though the full on amusement returns as Deitra asks after stories. "Ah, I'm sorry, I'm not blooded or anything like that -- sad to say. Anything that might of been even remotely worth mentioning happened so long ago it wouldn't even matter these days." he sighs, doing a good job of at least looking as if he was disappointed that he had no gossip or heroic tales to tell. Whether it was how he really felt, is difficult to say. "My father works at the stables as a groom, and my mother fixes shoes. Not really all that exciting I'm afraid. They're fairly down to earth people and don't believe in gossip, so I haven't even heard anything from them."

"Well, I'm just lucky, then. Maybe I should go bettin' on somethin' soon." Deitra laughs and straightens her spine once more, only to turn in the other direection before against straightening. "Fairly flexible, so whenever. Haven't made the rest of the plans for the training, so any time before then." Grey eyes close as she listens to Kairhys speak, remaining in silence until he finishes and the woman clicks her tongue just so. "Don't matter if it's relative or not, just something interestin'." Her arms drop and shoulders heave a slight shrug before she's turning to settle down upon the ground, legs crossed and hands resting upon her calves. "Mm. Gossip is just good for a laugh or two. Sometimes they're true, sometimes they ain't and either way they're good for a laugh. Sometimes I think 'bout starting some just ta see if people believe it."

Having noted Deitra's schedule and learned of Kairhys' parentage, the tall guard gets to her feet in a series of careful movements, pale gaze neutral. "Deitra, right? I'll be in touch." Mharen's chin jerks briefly toward Kairhys as she checks over her pockets; "Take a leaf out of his parents' book, or you could find yourself on the wrong end of a weapon or a fist. Gossip can hurt." Stuffing her hands back into the warmth of her sweater's sleeves, she doesn't offer the others any farewell, boots scuffing into the ground as she makes tracks for the bowl.