-------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lie To Me Date: August 2, 2003 Place: Telgar Weyr Lake Shore Game: PernMUSH Copyright Info: The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Kassi's Note: I never should've taken inspiration from Buffy's cookie metaphor in that last log note. Now it's got me naming logs after Buffy episodes. If I ever post a log titled 'I Robot, You Kassi,' just shoot me, all right? ;) Getting back to business: Javi comes across Kassima one night and presents her with the earbobs she, uh, 'won' from the brownrider, sort of. She also tries to present her with a guilt trip, but Kassi's not buying. *Big* surprise there. ;) The result? Kassi offers Javi some tips on the fine art of lying. Just when I think this woman can't sink any lower, she always seems to find a way. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Log: Naelanth flies in from above. This... is the Lake Shore. Telgar Weyr, Northern Continent. It's a place of dragons, rampant gossip, and too bloody much snow. But occasionally in the heart of summer there are days with no snow at all. This is one such day. There is a greenrider out here enjoying it. Her name is Kassi. She carries a Wingbadge. To be more exact, both Kassima and Lysseth occupy a spot off the shore of the Lake tonight: the green is graciously allowing her tail to serve as a pillow for her stargazing rider's head, while the rest of said rider is stretched out on the meadow with her eyes on the sky. A brief salutational rumble serves as Lyss's greeting to Naelanth. Astride Naelanth's neck, The glimmering lights from the weyrs above, the constellations reflected in the black waters of the lake, wink out and reappear as Naelanth circles lazily overhead, dropping suddenly, like the rock he sometimes seems, his wings snapping out to catch his fall, to backwing to a neat landing at shore's edge. He's no daredevil like some, but he's confident, sure. He tosses his head with a broken rumble for Lysseth, his tail curling in behind him as Javinia unclips herself, swings a leg over, dismounts. "-Kassi- Lysseth. Heyla! Hadn't expected to find you here, but it's all for the better." Javinia swings a leg over, then slides down Naelanth's shoulder. Kassima, as a voice addresses her, manages to sit up without much difficulty--let's hear it for rider fitness!--to peer through the night gloom for its source. "That sounds dreadfully ominous," she calls, lifting a hand in a wave towards the brown pair. "Have you been plotting t'ambush me? Take a great and terrible vengeance for m'scheduling you t'fly those sweeps with L'cher? If'n you have, you'd best be warned: that's a lake full of fish right there, and if'n Lyss or m'fire-lizards could catch me a few, I'd nay be afraid t'use 'em as a weapon of defense." Somehow, she sounds considerably less than worried or threatening about this whole thing. In fact, she sounds quite a bit amused. "Well, truly, Kassi -- -L'cher-?." The hazel-eyed rider's nose wrinkles right up, and as Javinia trots her way over, she adds, "I mean, of all the riders in Thunderbolt ... " But she's as amused as her wingleader, as if she were convinced it's all part of initiation into the wing; or so she hopes. The mention of fish brings a slight wince, a falter to her step, and she glances over the curve of her shoulder, but Naelanth seems content to follow his lifemate up to the green and her rider, a hulking protective bulk behind the petite girl who rides him. "What? No fish?" she seems almost perplexed. Naelanth only snorts. With a look cast back at Kassima, a lift of her shoulders, Javinia turns back around and slips a hand into the pocket of her flight jacket, assuring, "No, no. Nothing so dreadful as all that, I promise. No, I've those earbobs for you." "Everyone in the Wing has t'deal with him at one time or another, so 'tis best for new riders t'see what he's like and get practice in talking him out of stopping by that Hold down there really quickly to dally with the daughters of the house as soon as possible." If the amusement hasn't left Kassi's voice, at least it's gained some sympathy. "I do exaggerate a bit. A very *small* bit... nay fish here with me. I hadn't been fishing tonight. But I have a lethal hand with fish, when I'm so minded, and so if'n you *had* been plotting something dreadful I'm sure Lyss or the Swarm would have nabbed some from the water for m'use. But are you perhaps nay, going by that wince just now, a fan of fish?" Lysseth retains her place behind her own rider, her posture casual and her eyes a tranquil blue. At the pocket-rummaging, Kassi's eyebrows dart upwards in surprise, and linger there in anticipation. "Oh! Well, then, 'twas worrying for naught. You don't really *have* t'give 'em t'me, y'know. Nay that I'm about t'protest, but 'twere right in saying m'means of acquiring 'em wasn't exactly fair." Javinia listens to all this with a half-cocked tilt of her head, avian-like in gesture, and even as her straight brows draw in and down, the corners of her mouth curve higher. "Yes, well. He's quite ... lively, at least." She's pulling out a small green velvet pouch from her pocket, adding, "Oh, fish? No, we're on rather good terms, fish and I, but ... Naelanth's forever wanting to fish for them, except," and here she shoots a somewhat wary gaze over her shoulder, but the brown only circles in behind her, settling to ground with a committed thump of sound, " ... Hrm. He's not interested tonight, it seems. Strange." Another shrug of her shoulders, "No matter. It sounds as if I should have you teach me to wield a fish rather than a knife, but I have to confess it sounds a trifle ... disgusting. -- No, no. I'll not ... oh, what was that word. L'cher told me. 'Welch'? I'll not welch on a bet. Or, well, it really -was- a bribe wasn't it?" Kassima agrees with rueful humor, absently reaching up to pick a blade of grass out of her hair, "That's certes a word for him. But he does have his virtues--one of our best blue fighters, is Leerth. And he does give the Wing something t'bond over: the various pools on him can be quite lucrative." Her eyes do flick to that pouch, and by her expression she's certainly interested in the contents. "Ah. Aye, methinks you mentioned it once--does he," and she drops her voice to a murmur, perhaps intending to avoid offending the brown in question, "have trouble with the catching? It does sound strange. Is he tired, or are his thoughts just elsewhere? I could probably be teaching you t'wield a fish. Or trying. They're slippery buggers. But 'tisn't really one of those life skills you ever get *that much* use out of, if'n you want t'know the truth." She's so straight-faced serious about this entire topic. "'Welch' would be correct--and, well, I'd say 'twas a bribe, but I do have a bias. If'n you're sure you don't mind parting with 'em, I'd be pleased t'have 'em. But, i'truth, 'twouldn't really want t'start our professional relationship off with you feeling cheated; y'ken? 'Twas all more a jest of a sort than a real attempt t'fleece you." "Lucrative." Javinia tries out the word. It gives her pause, but then she's shaking off the thought, a more pensive expression taking her face. "I'm not sure." Her voice lowers to match her wingleader's, though how that should stop her brown from hearing her who can say. "Well, in truth, he used to. He's much better now. Though never as quick as Trinaith -- or M'rco's blue, but ... He's been -- " she searches for the word, perhaps looking for a diplomatic one, " -- remiss ... to stray too far since, well, no matter. Truly." Forcing a brighter smile, one that easily becomes true, earnest even, she closes the distance between herself and her Kassima, small hand holding out the velvet pouch. "We agreed, you know. It was as fair as anything," she admits. "And I'll not go back on my agreement. Promises are promises. Or so you told me once." "There's a pretty sum of marks riding on how many children he'll finally have ere he dies. Lesser sums, sometimes, on whether a woman he's known t'be spending time with will end up pregnant, or how soon the relationship will last, or whether she'll publically humiliate him when they break up. 'Tis well he's so good-natured about it--and doesn't hurt, I'm sure, that he puts his own marks in the pool whenever he can get away with it." Humor glints in Kassi's green eyes during this explanation. Back to murmuring. "Nay shame t'him t'nay be so quick. Agility's rarely a brown's gift. This 'since,' though--I'd like t'know more about that. I've an interest in his behaviors, beyond it sounding as if'n there's a story there." There's a bit of concern behind the query too; it fades beneath a delighted smile as the greenrider accepts that pouch, and starts to open it to investigate the contents. "So be it, then. I certes shan't make an oathbreaker out of you, particularly nay when the kept oath means a treat for me! But someday, mayhaps, 'twill even the score up a bit." [Editor's Note: The desc of the earbobs follows below. :) ] --- ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Message 79 Date Received: Sat Aug 2 00:12:31 2003 From: Javinia To: Kassima Subject: Earbobs ============================================================================= Look! I even wrote you a desc. Awww: These emerald earbobs hide no illusive blue flame in their depths, no faceted play of light. They are raw emerald chips, though no less emeralds for all that. Two tiny tear-shaped stones of a deep, but muted, green dangle from a cleverly crafted clasp of silver. The clasp is shaped such that the earbobs 'clip' to the ear, and the face of the clasp is shaped like a small vine leaf. -- Javi ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- --- Javinia watches Kassima with a wondering expression. "They -bet- on those sorts of things? Truly? Isn't that, well, mean?" Her eyes are almost brown with the night, though the soft light of the moons, the stars, reflects her brighter interest. "He's steady," she says of her brown, though there's the slightest suggestion in her voice that she might value agility and quickness more. It's a longer moment of indecision before she decides to be frank. "It's no great matter. I promise. It's only ... Dianneth showed Naelanth something the other day, and now he's, well ... We're mostly up at the star stones this time of night -- a habit we got from Tray and her Hazinath, I think, but I'gul had one of the lower cavern girls up there with him, and Naelanth refused to stay. I'm not really sure -why-." When Kassima starts to open the pouch, all else fades away, and she lifts her chin almost bouncing up to her toes, to see the greenrider's expression better, to see if the earbobs will suit. Then, "Mayhaps," she replies noncommittally. A headshake is Kassi's answer. "Nay if'n the person doesn't mind. 'Tisn't just L'cher, either; there are bets on plenty of people from time t'time--including m'self. The first time I heard of such a thing 'twas nonplussed, but now... it doesn't really do any harm when 'tis all in fun, and if'n someone makes a few marks off m'good fortune, what of it? The wagering on breakups, now, that could be a bit mean, except Lach is... Lach. As best I know, he's never been in love with any of his women, and he doesn't take an ending very hard." Lifting one shoulder in a helpless shrug, she grins up at the younger rider. "Much as I complain about him, he *is* entertaining. --A'course he's steady! Shells, I don't doubt that. 'Tis one of the reasons I favored the pair of you. I need good, steady fighters as much as I do air-dancers; the dancers can't *dance* without bronzes and browns t'tame the winds for 'em, and where would we be without fighters who can flame long and fight the Fall through, I'd like t'know?" For all that there's perhaps a bit of extra emphasis placed on this in answer to that hint in Javinia's voice, she doesn't seem insincere. "...Dianneth showed him something. What something? Something t'do with men and women?" Kassi hazards while tipping the pouch over, letting the earbobs spill into her palm. She lifts her hand to bring them into clearer moonlight, the better to see--and when she's seen, a delighted smile breaks across her expression. "By earth and fire, Javi--these are lovely! Let me try them--" Shifting the jewels to one hand, she uses the other to unhook the loops of silver with their dangling square emeralds from her ears, and puts the bobs in their place. "--There, what think you?" "I sup-pose," Javinia hedges with a warier look for all this talk of placing bets on people. But she has to agree, "He doesn't seem the type to bother much." That somehow smoothes the issue over, as she's nodding along with her wingleader's words. "Oh, I know. Truth. Is said much the same. He couldn't imagine having to leave a Fall early, but ... " A slight lift of one shoulder, a sheepish expression, one that turns to something a little more self-conscious at the mention of Dianneth. "He won't tell me, but ... I'm guessing so. Ys and I were talking about how she and K'ran, well, you know." She leaves that there, letting the pouch catch up her attention. Her smile is all anticipation, hazel eyes flickering from the pouch to Kassima's face, and when she sees delight break there, she echoes it back, dimples dawning with her pleasure. "Truly? You like them?" Oh, she's well-pleased. "In truth, they look much better on you with your green eyes, none so muddy as mine are." That done, she seems to relax, dropping down into a cross-legged seat on the ground with a soft sigh. "They were my mother's, you know. Before she died. My sister had them, but she gave them to me." Kassima permits herself a wry sort of half-grin. "But. I do know some of it. I'm proud of m'lady's speed--for all that she's nay as nimble as some of her sisters, being so large; she moves rather sharp--but I do wish from time t'time that we had some better method for fighting a Fall through ourselves than what we've found. When we fought in the ranks, we could chase down every patch t'come near us; now...." Her shrug, though, isn't bitter, merely good-natured and accepting. "Nay dragon gets the best of all worlds. Ah... Yselle and K'ran." Does she shade a bit bland at that? "I must confess that surprised me. 'Twould nay have thought he'd be a one for her. So is it that Naelanth's jealous and nay wanting t'share you with any man, should you ever be so inclined, or does he see such interactions as something t'protect you from?" she wonders, glancing towards the brown in question. "Or something entirely different?" But her attention's back on the matter of the pouch soon enough, and if anything, Javi's echoed delight seems to increase her own--as well as adding a touch of amusement. "I do, very much. And there's naught wrong with your eyes; there are gems that would suit you better than me. Wait--your mother's? Shells, Javi, I know I've already asked this, but are you sure you want t'give 'em? If'n they hold sentiment for you...." "Now ... ?" The newest wingrider picks up the thought where Kassima trails off. She's curious; it's clear in the openness of her gaze. Of course, this shades darker at the mention of Yselle and K'ran. Gaze dropping, she lifts a single shoulder. "She's happy. That's all that matters, you know." And she seems sincere in that. As for Naelanth, her brows draw down and she glances back at her lifemate. His eyes are double-lidded, chin jutted out at a lazy angle, and only the rasp and thump of his tail suggests he's anything but asleep. Her eyes narrow slightly, mouth pulling to one side in a wry expression. "It's a little confused," she admits, turning back to her wingleader. "He -does- get jealous. I know they aren't supposed to, but ... He doesn't like G'rint at all these days, and he's never been overly fond of Is, or even M'fraid." Mention of her mother gets a quieter nod, and she shifts to draw her knees up, hugging them to her, and her dab of chin comes to rest atop them. "Mhm," she says more softly. "Viv said she was very elegant and had very good taste. And no, we made an agreement. I needn't have agreed to it. That you -knew- you'd be tapping me, well ... " "Now we can't stray much from our place, because 'twould burn too much of our energy. We duck patches when we can't readily flame and leave others to our Wingmates. It can be frustrating. But if'n there's another way t'draw out a green's stamina enough t'let us serve as Wingleaders through a whole Fall, I haven't found it yet." Kassi's answer is ready and amiable, even the slight hint of rue from earlier passed away. "--Mmm. Happy for now. I hope she won't be less happy later. I really don't know... K'ran seems a gentleman, I doubt he'll treat her ill, but I'm surprised even a gentlemanly womanizer would be what she'd want." She shrugs. "What she wants is for her t'know." Subject change. "It *does* happen sometimes, y'know, 'supposed to' or nay. Don't be thinking he's some sort of freak for it. Odd about Is... but I'd have t'say so; Lysseth's always liked him--does E'ven bother him too? Is it any men you have much of a relationship with, even if'n 'tis teacher only? He might grow out of that. He might change his mind after he wins a flight, alternatively. Sometimes that seems t'change things." She picks up the end of her braid and sets to toying with it, twisting stray strands around her fingers. "If'n you've told me, I've forgotten just now," she says, apologetic. "Did you nay know your mother? These earbobs speak well of her taste. I've nay seen so many uncut gems set, but there's a rougher beauty in 'em; it makes 'em stand out, too." Javinia's arms tighten about her knees as she listens, a sharper light coming into her eyes, as if she might be storing the information away -- tactics to be used; it's something she might not have done before, not before having had to act wingsecond and wingleader for Stormchaser. "Hrm," she mulls over that, but has no easy answer. Again, she's all agreement with Kassima, and perhaps that's what earns the greenrider a somewhat grateful look, as if glad to find someone who understands. But she's content to leave the topic, though talk of Naelanth's preferences doesn't make her much more comfortable. "E'ven, he doesn't seem to mind. And," head cocking to consider, she says, "he doesn't like Mayelle at all either. So it's not -only- men. But he likes R'var, which I don't understand, because we hardly get along at all. So." It's a mystery to Javinia. "He really hasn't shown much interest yet -- in flights." For which the girl seems relieved, but that's chased away but her wingleader's apologetic tone, and her kindness. "Oh, -feh-! You're not supposed to be -kind-. You're not supposed to -ask- me about my mother." With a frown, she complains, "That didn't work at -all-." And judging by the brief gleam of shrewd amusement in Kassi's, it's possible the Wingleader recognizes that light for what it is; possible, entirely, that she's seen such lights before. When Javi doesn't choose to pursue the Yselle topic, she decides to also let it drop in favor of the other: "If'n he likes R'var, 'tisn't just greenriders he doesn't mind. How does he feel about Yselle? Since she's a good friend of yours? Mayhaps he dislikes anyone you like that well? Or it could be that he's deciding whom *he'd* approve of as a mate for you, but if'n he hasn't much interest in that business yet I'm nay sure why he'd do such a thing. All pure speculation, anyway." She lets one brow rise a trace at the relief. "Nay looking forward to 'em, I take it?" she asks, with sympathetic good humor that in turn is dispelled by blinking surprise. "I'm nay? *What* didn't work at all?" Unaware of -- or avoiding -- that shrewd gleam in her wingleader's eye, Javinia replies, honest enough, "Yselle? He doesn't like her so well as Gay. But then, he's not at all fond of Dianneth. She sort of ... They don't seem to get on well." If the brown's gusty snort is any indication, that's a slight understatement." Her nose wrinkles up at the suggestion that he might be match making. "Truly, I think he'd prefer I not have one. So ... " and it's as if the whole conversation has finally begun to sink in. "So maybe -that's- it." She shoots Naelanth a rather quizzical look, thoughtful. If there's a slight color to her cheeks, it could be shadow as well. Then, distracted, "Looking forward to what? Oh, flights? Nervous, I suppose. Though I can't imagine it's -so- bad the way people go on about such things." Still, she's glad to move on, if a bit chagrined. "Well, you weren't supposed to be -kind-. You were supposed to feel -guilty-. So, that didn't work at all," she explains with mild exasperation, as if that should make everything crystal. Kassima makes a sound that might be a muffled laugh. "Well. Dianneth does have a... strong personality; I suspect one would either have t'like her very well or nay much at all. See, there, that's exactly m'thought--" Her voice changes, but only minutely; the touch of wariness it takes on would be easy to miss. "Have you any romantic tendencies towards I'sai? Or M'fraid, G'rist, Mayelle? If'n he had some reason t'think so... 'tisn't so bad, in its way. I might do without 'em if'n I could, as might plenty of other riders I'm sure, but 'tis hard t'wish the pleasure they can bring our dragons t'stop. So." This last statement draws first a puzzled look, but then one of distinct and quite droll amusement, accompanied by an eyebrow-pop. "Guilty? Might have worked if'n I hadn't already offered t'let you keep 'em, and more than once. There does come a point when you've said 'aye' enough that I'm going t'figure I do nay wrong in accepting that 'aye.'" "That she does," Javinia admits without hesitation. "It makes it somewhat difficult to ... well, it's made Ys different, too, you see?" Her hands come up to fold in front of her mouth for a moment, and her gaze draws inward -- until her wingleader's more pointed question. "No!" and as if even she realizes that such a quick, emphatic 'no' could only bring suspicion, she lifts her chin from her knees, looking Kassima square, and shaking her head. "I'm awful fond of some of them -- some more than others," she says, frank enough about that, "but ... You know they don't encourage such things." Her color almost heightens more beneath that droll gaze. "Oh, bah. Fine." She plunks her chin back down on her knees, confessing, "I hardly thought it'd work to begin with. I mean, I'd not part with them if they were truly my mother's. I -didn't- know her, so ... Still, you -did- sort of a trick me, and well, I thought fair being fair ... " Her sigh is rather pathetic. "I'm not at all good at lying, though. It's very distressing." "Dragons often do. And the one who's changed may nay realize how *they* are different until much later, when they look back at a thing they used t'like or used t'do and wonder with bemusement just who that person was." Kassi's openly reminiscent there, even a touch whimsical--but not so open in meeting that gaze. She does so, but her eyes are clouded. "Now that you're graduated," she murmurs, "some might encourage more. Or nay discourage. If'n that's what you want." Funny, she doesn't seem to find this a bright prospect. "...Wait a minute. You *lied*? Oh, foul!" But there's laughter in it. "Now we're at least *closer* t'being even. I likely would have felt a bit badly, if'n 'twere your mother's. Either that or honored that you'd give them t'me. This way is easier on the peace of mind. I don't know whether t'offer advice about being a better liar or nay; I'm nay so fine at it m'self for one, and for the other, there's much t'be said for an honest nature that doesn't easily give falsehoods." Javinia watches the play of reminiscence over the greenrider's face, head tilted with unveiled curiosity. "You speak from experience," she says, and it's a statement -- no question. Her smile comes softly, though it dims, brows drawing tight at the change in her wingleader's expression, her words. "You don't approve, though." And this time, it's not statement; it's all unvoiced question. Then she's glancing away, unable to hide the grin that takes her mouth when Kassima accuses her of lying. "Yes, well, not very -well-, I didn't." But her grin is dimpled, ingenuous, hazel eyes clear when she turns back. "No? You neither? I'd have thought surely you'd know how, but ... I don't mean that badly," she's quick to clarify. "It's just ... Oh, feh. Honest -is- good, but it's awfully inconvenient at times." Kassima dips her chin once. "Most certainly. I'm nay much like the blushing Holder chit who went about in skirts and loose hair, sometimes with flowers in it. Thanks be t'Farath for it, too." Her expression hadn't relaxed, and it goes that much more opaque at question, voiced or unvoiced. She looks away; shakes her head fractionally. "I... it doesn't matter. Never be minding." The greenrider finds a grin somewhere before turning back to the conversation, her voice light and almost too flippant. "Oh, I *lie*, I lie all the time, but well? I'm nay even trying t'make it convincing most of the time--I mean, telling people A'lex and Mart were having an affair? Right; nay anyone who knew either one would buy *that*. But their expressions were so golden, I could laugh all day, and that's usually been what lying's for, t'me. I don't really know whether I could make someone accept a serious untruth. You didn't really lie so badly, y'know, t'me." A Holder chit with flowers in her hair. Javinia's grin only grows, but it's her eyes that turn thoughtful, her mouth softening in their wake. "Alright then," she says, softly, and she regards the greenrider quietly for a long breath before she simply nods, before she does as asked -- never minding it. Talk of affairs brings a faint smile, but it's somewhat half-hearted, as if Kassima's mood were contagious. But Javinia's too easily bought to pass up such praise, meager as it might be. "Truly? You -believed- me?" She looks fairly delighted, her whole posture gone straighter, chin lifting with some small triumph. Kassima lets her mouth-corners tuck up in another of those muted smiles, which becomes less muted at the delight; how could it not? "I did believe you," she affirms, nodding, "at least about them being your mother's--though if'n I'd *thought* about it, I specified 'jewelry without sentimental value' in the bribing, so your mother's earbobs would have been an odd choice. Still, if'n you hadn't suddenly been saying it didn't work, I don't think I'd have realized 'twere up t'something." Javinia 's nose wrinkles up. "See? I -wondered- if you'd remember that," she admits, but it's with all the disappointment of a little who's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Oh, well. I did -try-." And this seems to buoy her failure. "Course, I've not the best timing, it would seem. But I didn't think going on with it would make you feel any more guilty, so ... That really wouldn't have served." She's absurdly prodding at the situation as if it were a strategy game, something to rethink -- like formations, or how to help a green last longer in a Fall. Practice, perhaps, or a desire to become better at such things. "Rule number one: never assume forgetfulness, or take chances with memory more than you have to, when lying; rule number two, if'n you have t'go against what someone's going t'remember, have a backstory t'cover it. In your place I might've said if'n I'd caught you out about that, 'Oh, but all m'other jewelry was those light stones, and this was all I could think of that you'd accept,'" Kassi instructs, some of her humor returned to put a half-teasing note into the words. "If'n naught else, even if'n everyone can still see you're lying, sometimes they appreciate thoroughness. There's an art t'telling a story! And rule three, don't admit that you're fibbing until either 'tis abundantly clear everyone knows anyway or you think you're hurting someone with the fib. Those are m'rules, anyway. I won't say they always work for me, but they make the game more fun." The earnest concentration Javinia gives this list of rules might be amusing, but oh, she's sincere. "Right. Never assume. Have a backstory. Never admit it." Her gaze lifts, unseeing, to the sky, and she mumbles the three rules again under her breath, nodding with each. After a moment, she blinks and beams over at Kassima. "Excellent! Thanks so much." Dimples punctuate both sides of her mouth. Kassima sticks to nodding solemnly to the repetition, and the fact that the sincerity entertains her is visible only in the upward tugging of one of her mouth corners. "Mayhaps sometime you and I should practice the telling of tall tales, too, and see what we can get the other t'be swallowing. *That* would be one set of lessons--of a sort--I can honestly say I've never given anyone else, oddly enough. But any road, you're certes welcome!" For all that Javinia's brown seems to lie as still as the time-weathered boulder his hide resembles, it's all he's been able to do to keep that still; it's clear in the way he lifts his head, blood-warm muzzle nudging forward into Javinia's shoulder. "Er, that's a thought," the hazel-eyed rider admits, holding up a hand, as if to stay off Naelanth's grousing for a moment more. "Though, truly, I don't think I'd be very good at such things. I always muddle my tales. I'm not at all like you or Is." Having said that, she rises, almost apologetic, "Naelanth's bored, it seems. But it's no matter. Drills will come early if we're up much later." With a swift, genuine smile, she says, "The earbobs look quite nice on you -- truth." Then she's trotting over to mount up, clipping in, before the pair take to the night sky with Naelanth's rumble their only parting. Javinia uses a boost from the brown's foreleg to swing up to Naelanth's neck. Naelanth takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry him aloft.