The Great Lake of Igen Weyr

Characters Alexa, Uriska, Yaromil
Synopsis Yaromil gets a first look at Igen Weyr lake. Discussions of how it was made and drinkability ensue.
Out-of-Character Date January 14, 2020

Igen Weyr - Lake Shore
It is sometimes hard to tell where the bowl ends and the lake shore begins. Fine grains of gold, tan and orange hued sand layer much as the bowl walls in the distance beyond. The sand only gives way to thin patches of grass where the tall fence of the feeding grounds intersects the lake to the south and the smooth curve of the bowl wall rises on the opposite shore. At that intersection one can make out a small building and colorful fabrics where the Weyr's residents go to relax. The shallow lake waters shimmer invitingly, day and night, lapping at the fine grain sands. Engineered pipes are hidden beneath the bowl landscape and feed the lake as well as the grasses of the feeding grounds to keep the water levels from dropping past a certain point which is marked by a waist high obelisk.

Winter - Month 1 of Turn 2724

The winter winds have blown in more than just sand into this afternoon. A few wagons from somewhere out in the desert proper have taken advantage in the cooler weather to travel with goods for trade. Yaromil being old enough and strong enough tagged along as 'muscle' although how much help the wiry youth would be if a situation called for that could be doubtful. Seeing as he also hasn't been deemed cunning enough to deal with negotiations, the lad was left at a bit of lose ends while uncles and aunts haggle like their lives depend on it since their livelihoods certainly do. It doesn't take long for his wandering feet to find their way to their nearest path however when that path should lead to the lake, the desert bumpkin in him is more than 100 evident as he pauses in the middle of the road, slack jawed and eyes widen.

Thankfully, Raaneth does need roads! She can happily soar over path and pedestrian alike, broad wings taking her from point A to point B with little need to land. Until she wants to land, that is. But Alexa? Alexa is perhaps not as lucky. Or maybe she decided walking would be better that riding on a still-wet dragon. Either way, the shadow of the queen comes first, high overhead and raining little bits of water down upon unsuspecting people, while Alexa trails along (on the ground) at a much slower and slightly sluggish pace, looking torn between exasperated and amused. While it was probably for her dragon, the expression works just as well for the slack-jawed Yaromil she finds along the way. A quirk of a brow, a tip of her head and, as she comes a bit closer, she can't help but grin just a little bit. Just a hint; a turn of her mouth at the corner, like she's sharing a private joke.

Not being weyrbred, Yaromil flinches as that very big shadow flies over his gawking position and that's enough to break the almost trance like fascination the large water of body had held on him. As scary as unexpectedly close large predators might be, there's another part of the lad that remembers dragons protect, they don't eat people and his ears turn a bit red as he glances around to see if anybody spotted his momentary fear. Look over the first shoulder is good, but when he turns over the other, his eyes spy Alexa and her hint of a grin and the growing crimson in his cheeks a sign that he's jumping to the conclusion that the joke is on him and not any dragon antics or conversation. He'll jerkily return her tip of the head with one of his own before coughing out a greeting. "Morn- err uh… Afternoon. Am I in the way? I'll just be uhhh… going. Over here." But getting over there might be easier said than done as he hesitates unsure of going left or right around Alexa so it turns into more of just an awkward dance.

"You're not in the way," assures Alexa, even if she still looks a bit too-pleased for someone walking by herself. But she at least attempts to school her expression it something a bit more pleasantly neutral, and not like she's about to burst into laughter. Ahem. "You can go that way," she decides with a vague motion of her hand to the left. "And I can walk this way. But I think we're going the same direction." Maybe? A cock of her head and she wonders, "Where /are/ you going?" with equal parts curiosity and amusement.

Yaromil raises an eyebrow up, not quite sure if he trusts Alexa's attestation about not being in the way, but he does give a nod and finally shuffles to his chose side on the woman's left since it does appear they are going in the right direction. It's a few steps forward before her question is the next thing to catch the lad off guard, his face scrunching up as he thinks. "I'm not sure." His eyes drift down towards the water again and he points. "Where does that go?"

"Where does the water go?" wonders Alexa, glancing in the same direction. "Not really anywhere," she admits. "It's a lake, but it's not fed by a river or anything. It's piped in. Kind of a genius bit of technology, as a matter of fact. There's an irrigation system that feeds into the feeding grounds and also a little garden. It's quite brilliant," she decides, looking as though she truly does find the subject fascinating. "Pretty sure it rivals the size of the other Weyrs, even though it's man made. The lake," she clarifies. "not the garden. Though maybe the garden, too?" A wrinkle of her nose. A shrug of her shoulders. "Do you want to see it? The lake."

"It doesn't go anywhere?" Any mistrust Yaromil might have been harboring for Alexa and her not-quite-grin is suddenly transferred to the lake and the tales of its origins. "Man made? Out of what? Water's still got to come from somewhere. And the autumn storms have long since dried out…" Water drying out is something he's well familiar with. Anybody coming from the way of the bowl has probably seen a few wagons trying to trade with the salt that comes from the salt flats and their ephemeral rivers. His steps speed up with curiosity towards the lake. "Yes, I'd like to see it. And maybe the gardens?" He sounds a bit unsure about the last. "Gardens are for flowers though, right?" There's a bit of a nose wrinkle at that supposed frivolity.

Alexa's steps speed up just to keep pace, a curious little frown at her mouth. "I suppose it does come from somewhere, yeah," she allows. Her own study of the lake is much less suspicious and much more… investigative. Like maybe she's gonna dive right down and see where those pipes are at. "Maybe it's a spring. Or maybe dragons brought the water. I honestly don't know," she admits, sounding a little more perturbed than she should to admit such a thing. "I just know it's not… natural? Or at least, it's current incarnation is not naturally made." A shrug, because while she's Igen now, she wasn't always, and the idea of questioning the source of water hasn't really been a thing for her. It's just.. there. Rivers are just there. Lakes are just there. "Not just flowers," she adds, thoughts turned back to the garden. "Lots of plants. Trees and bushes and… other growing things," she continues, wiggling her fingers as if that somehow indicates 'plants'. "Like herbs." Growing things. Definitely not her forte either. "But the garden is the other way," she allows, tossing a thumb over her shoulder that may or may not be seen.

Out for her own brand of walk is Uriska, though she's not walking she's jogging behind a child who looks to be maybe 4 turns old. Running down the path towards the lake, a carved wooden runner held aloft in his wrinkly fist, the boy is screeching "Mamaa FASTER, mama slow!" The healer suppresses a smile, lips peeling down in a stern look. "Listen here Ulis, I'm going to catch you and when I do!" The threat dies on her lips as she spots other people on the path and scoops the boy up with a 'rawwrr', fingers wiggling to tickle his soft pudgy abdomen. "We have company Ulis! Good day." All of the fun seeps out of her face suddenly hardening, and eyes crinkling with a squint, "Sorry to interrupt." Alexa is given a sharp nod, while the man walking with her receives a head to toe look over without any real comment, there's no rudeness, but certainly, it's not the most polite stare.

The speed at which Yaromil whips his head from staring at that water back to Alexa should probably give him whiplash or at least make his head a bit dizzy, but those dark eyes ignore that and stare directly at the woman. "In buckets???" Like the idea of a draconic bucket brigade making a permanent lake being the absolute craziest thing ever. Such expressive tone condensed down into just two words. "A spring seems likely, or else it'd all evaporate. If there were water feeding in during the wet season, the dragons would see it from above, would they not?" The sound of the screeching child earns a wince from Yaro and he'll steadily ignore any stares, impolite or otherwise as he focuses on the water and pretending that the child isn't yelling. There's more important questions as he dips a finger cautiously into the water. "Is it drinkable?" There is a pleasant nod for the other growing things as well. Herbs at least get some passing approval. They're useful after all!

The face Alexa makes in return says maybe she feels about the same way on the idea of buckets. "Or maybe as a giant block of ice? You know, dragons do that? Transport ice from the north. They could totally have brought a bunch and like, let it melt or something." It isn't that she really believes that, but more that she can't help but to argue him. BECAUSE REASONS. Even if she privately agrees that a spring is most likely, she'll just one-shoulder shrug at the idea. "Probably." For dragons seeing a source. "But there's no river or anything. So. You know." Another shrug. Because while she might not be a teenager, she's still close enough to keep all those little habits they develop. Like deadpan stares and eyerolls and dismissive shoulder shrugs. The shrieking child gets a look and maybe a wince, but it's a smile that comes when she spots the source of the antics — and the woman with him. "Hello Uriska," comes politely enough. "And please, you're not interrupting. It's not like, a meeting or anything. I just met… him," because names are not a thing they've exchanged yet, "a few minutes ago." As for drinkable? "Uh… probably? I mean, I wouldn't drink it myself because dragons like… bathe in it and stuff. But it probably won't kill you if you swallow it." That counts, right?

For his part, Ulis is quiet once in his mother's arms, mostly getting his runner figurine stuck in her hair. Uriska shifts the child to her hip and stares at the water at the heart of the subject. "A spring would be the best theory, though that would mean the Weyr is at risk of eventually running out of water." Walking several steps forward, though nodding again to Alexa and observing the two of them while using her spare hand to unsuccessfully untangle her hair from the toy, a losing battle. "I'm glad we didn't interrupt too much, underground water has a name." Narrowed eyes roll up in thought and back, "When I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know, but it might be that." As the man with Alexa leans down a sharp shake of her head, "EVen if it's buckets of water or Ice, dragons bathe in it, and all manners of creatures use it for washing. You risk getting sick. " With the unwarranted advice,there's at least a terse smile and a shrug. "I'd be interested in the results, if you're willing to be a test subject."

"You pull my leg?" Yaromil will even wiggle his leg as if trying to get any metaphorical hooks out of it. The buckets he could probably believe but the concept of that much ice is just mindblowing and so safer to assume a joke. He nods somberly as Ulriska warns of running out of water. "That's always the danger in a desert." He waves a hand around at the sands. He blinks as Alexa awkward introduces him as him without a name. "I'm Yaromil. I'm with them." Now he points to the tip of a wagon still visible in the far distance. As for the safety of the water, he shrugs. "Dehydration will make you sicker, quicker. And underground water is called an aquifer. If you ever see water dripping out of a cliff wall, that may be why." While he might have few words on other topics, water is one he seems more than willing to talk about. And the talk of getting sick and bathing dragons doesn't seem to phase him too much. He shrugs and a hand dips into the water to cup some to his mouth. Test subject acquired. "Doesn't taste too risky to me."

"I just don't think it will taste very good," is Alexa's further contribution to the subject of Lake Water Safety. "But sure, you could probably drink it in a pinch. It's what we feed the herdbeasts." Said creatures — or rather, the feeding grounds — is gestured toward with a flick of her wrist. "But there's no need to drink it. We have water in the Weyr." And juice. And wine. But she won't list those. Curiosity takes the place of friendly teasing, though Alexa will keep her questions to herself for now. "I'm Alexa," comes with a hint of a grin, followed with a cheerful, "I'm with the Weyr." Because she's feeling feisty like that. A second later, and there's that distant 'dragons talking' look about her. "And… I gotta go," is a lot less playfully said, a wry twist to her mouth. "Drink all the lake water you want, Yaromil, but I promise the bar and the caverns have better. And if you wanna check out the garden, you're welcome to that, too. Uriska," she adds, with a smile toward the woman. "I'll bring Jaxyn by later, if you wanna see him. He's growing like a /weed/." But with those parting words, she starts back down the path, picking up a bit of a loping jog to meet the spot where Raaneth is descending. Duty calls!

"Drinking the wrong kind of water could dehydrate you faster, via diarrhea and vomitting." Leave it to a healer to bring body fluids into a discussion. Uriska points this out while squatting down and placing one hand in the water, sniffing it and allowing it to run through her hand. Without her self defense hand, the runner figure is embedded into the long brown braid. As Alexa speaks, she peeks over at her, craning her neck in a manner sure to cause pain tomorrow. "Please bring him by, I've not held a baby in several sevendays, and I have to scratch the itch." Since Yaro has agreed to be a test subject, Uriska stands with a twist, drying her hand and offering it. "If you get sick, please, as for me. I'm Uriska, healer apprentice, and I'd like to track the course of your future illness for research purposes. Aquifer, that's it." The light bulb coming on with a genuine smile, the information fitting into the puzzle she was trying to unravel earlier. "Yaromil, it's a good name." There's no tone to her voice, it's more commentary then question and she tilts her head to one side and nods before saying, "I am sure I will see you around, I've not got time to head to the gardens today but please don't eat anything funny there, it will soil my results."

"It's not salty at least," Yaromil shrugs and knows full well that salt water is one type of water that well definitely lead to dehydration. The lad eyes the outstretched hand, but doesn't shake it. "I don't get sick, Ulriska." Said with the surety of a young male who is certain the only way he'll end up in the healer's care is if he's actually dead. Probably through violent means. Sickness is for the weak, not him. Alexa's parting suggestion of alternate beverages gets a shrug as well. "Water's water." Although he will have to try those mentioned other water sources. For science's sake after all. There's a sniff for the idea he'd eat things out of the gardens. "I brought my own food." Pretty much all jerky and other salted meats and back in the wagon, but it exists.

"I'll be sure to note the lack of salt." Uriska responds, one side of her mouth tilting up, her otherwise impassive facial expression brightened momentarily. "Everyone gets sick, think of all the health-conscious people who will one day be laying in a bed dying of nothing." There's a slight hmm of a giggle at her own joke as if it's something she's said frequently or there's more to it then is outwardly apparent. "I need to get Ulis back to the nannies, please maintain your diet as usual." Giving her healerly instructions as if he has become a new patient, "And thank you for your contribution to Weyr safety. Goodbye Yaromil, I look forward to documenting your illness." Turning back towards the path from which she came, she snuggles her face into the boy's neck. There's a massive dose of confidence in her voice, as if she is describing the current outdoor temperature, or announcing the sun will set tomorrow, at least the sly smile on her lips could mean she's messing around.

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