Shining Stars and Steaming Cups
The one thing that could be counted on beyond all else in the Weyr was supervision. There was never a time when one would find themselves without company, or at the least, the imminent danger of it. Slipping out after curfew was strictly prohibited and all the more difficult to get away with - the Dragons on Watch were never keen on letting anyone get away with anything. The precious few hours between sunset and curfew were cherished beyond measure for someone who on some days yearned for darkness enveloped by a multitude of uncountable stars stretching high above.
Tonight was one such night that Lyria found herself unable to slip away into that somnolent peace.
The day's lessons passed with their usual swiftness, and the evening found her embroiled in the task of assisting with the processing of the more recently harvested herbs brought to the Weyr. After getting a nameless pollen in her eye that had caused it to swell, she'd made all due urgency to get it flushed and handled.. which had, in turn, taken up another of her dearest hours. By the time the diminutive young woman had found herself fit and ready again, she was agitated, hungry, and all around disgruntled with scant little time to really enjoy the stars. Tromping leather-soled feet on the grounds of the bowl, she made her way through likely all she would see of nighttime that evening, heading for the lower caverns to n** a meatroll or two from her missed supper. Strange how on one's lowest days, it seemed to take forever for any smiling faces to appear to actually brighten them up.
Thaliawen
it begins