A Thieving!?

Monaco Bay Weyr - Treetop Pathway
Pathways and platforms run between the tops of the larger trees that border on Monaco's caverns, creating an above ground network. Working within the natural beauty of this unique landscaping, the huts have been created to fit in with the surroundings. Many of them are constructed to catch as much of the canopy breezes as possible.
The pathways and rope bridges are lit by breaks in the cannopy, allowing sunlight and shade to spatter through. Springtime has arrived on Monaco Bay Weyr, the flowers budding with wild abandon and all about new growth of the jungle seems to be the theme both in the animal and plant kingdoms.

Evening is settling on Monaco, the air cooling slightly but not truly enough to discourage the residents from spending the last few bit of the day outside, and Wendyn is no exception, as she makes her way quickly but stealthily across the walkways, pausing at each junction to glance over her shoulder, before hurrying on to the next intersection.

Across one shoulder is a large, vibrant blue piece of fabric, which she carefully touches each time she stops, until finally she seems safe enough for she pauses on the back side of one of the huts to hold it up with a triumphant grin - a large, men's shirt. Ok then.

It takes quite a bit of skill to manage the walkways of Monaco in sensible heels, but Ivelyn does it with the skill of one very familiar with the feat. She comes 'round a corner and is suddenly facing Wendyn holding up that men's shirt. "Oh," she says, her light mezzo-soprano infused with the lilt of a local. "Are you…" pale blue eyes flick from the shirt up to the face, "Are you quite having fun, then?" Pity that the assistant headwoman missed all the fun of watching Wendyn paranoidly checking her tail every intersection!

Distracted as she is giving the shirt - one which is likely hard to forget, particularly given the young, overconfident, brown-haired young man who normally sports it around the Weyr - Wendyn is caught completely unawares by the approaching assistant - and so Ivelyn's question is met with a quick yelp as the shirt is quickly hidden behind her back, though she recovers rather quickly - no blush, just a smirk on her face. "I most definitely am now. Though, someone else.. maybe not so much. Or at least, later they won't."

The vision of propriety, modestly-attired Ivelyn presses her fingers together in a loose lacing before her, her pale gaze following the flight of that shirt behind Wendyn's back. Only then do her eyes lift to the girl's face, and there her own expression adjusts: ruddy eyebrows arch upward in query. "Oh," she says, demure; "I see." Her chin lifts subtly. "And that someone else… he wouldn't be missing a shirt when he badly needs one, would he?" There's a gleaming to those eyes.

"Badly needing might be.. a bit of a stretch. He is enough of a wherry I think he has a larger wardrobe than me." Of course, that probably isn't too high of a bar to set. Wendyn watches Ivy's expression change for a moment, and after a moment, her eyes narrow slightly and she tilts her head. "You didn't see anything." Her tone is firm, as if there is no place for arguments - though a hint of that smirk is twitching at her lips as soon as the words pass. "I promise, he did deserve it."

"Just because a man is a clotheshorse doesn't mean he deserves to be stolen from," Ivelyn mildly replies, rocking her weight lightly to her heels — it serves to bring her up a bit in height, but she's still looking up at Wendyn. "I'm guessing that this is, indeed, a… thieving?" Is that the word she's looking for? She mouths the word to herself, silently, after saying it aloud, as if testing it for repair.

"It's a -lesson-." Wendyn counters quickly, folding her arms in front of her rather defensively, realizing even as she does so that the offending and bright shirt is once again fully visible. "He shouldn't think he can get a girl drunk and take her home and take advantage of her. Maybe he'll think before trying it next time." Chin juts out a bit, Wendyn shifting to stand more firmly as she narrows her gaze at Ivy once more. "This is what happens when you invite strangers into your space with an intent to steal from -them-."

Ivelyn's eyes drop down to the shirt obligingly once it's flagged in front of her, and then rise again to Wendyn's face. "There are a lot of men who think that the best way to take advantage of a young woman is to get them drunk," the assistant headwoman says, her voice giving neither censure nor approval to the concept. But she does tilt her head, a strand of red straying from her chignon to curl at her shoulder. "Did he take advantage of you?" Her voice is gentle, but it's false veneer for steel underneath.

"And I will happily try and teach each of them a lesson…" Wendyn remains slightly defiant, but as Ivy asks the question, she hurriedly shakes her head. "Shards, no. But, he certainly thought he was going to, right up until his drunk self passed out as on the floor." Shoulders dip and Wendyn wobbles a bit, words picking up a slight slur as she continues. "He thought I'd had way more than he had.." And just as quickly, she is straightening up and slur disappearing with a roll of her eyes. "Didn't grow up with a Vintner to be that stupid."

"Have you thought perhaps that weyrleader S'van would rather handle such a miscreant within his own midst than having an upstart of a Vintner's girl take such matters in her own hands?" Ivy questions, her eyebrows arching again — but there's that gleam again, as if she's asking a question within a question, that sense of testing… or toying.

"But where is the fun in -that-?" Wendyn snorts a little shaking her head, even as she pauses to pull the shirt over her head, the length of it coming to mid-thigh. "Besides, I think this color looks amazing." Absently rolling the sleeves up to an appropriate length, she shrugs. "I could have taken something actually of value.. But that would be taking advantage of a drunkard. And what would that make me?" Maybe her morals are a little twisted..

"Perhaps it isn't a question of fun," Ivelyn replies, taking a step forward and reaching a hand to touch the fabric of the shirt as the other young woman pulls it on. "Perhaps it's a question of justice. If he really is as bad as you make him out to be, he should be punished for what he did." Close as she is, it's easy to see the neutral set of Ivy's delicate features. "And if he isn't as bad as you made him out, then you're a thief."

"Perhaps if he wakes up and realizes what he has done, he can come and ask for it back. If he even remembers." The soft snort that escapes her betrays the fact that she doubts any of that will actually be true. Though, the word 'thief' does seem to set Wendyn to uneasiness, as she shifts from foot to foot. "Its been taken care of, it doesn't matter anyway." And now she is on to rather weak defensive statements.

And there's what Ivelyn has been waiting for: that glimpse of uneasiness, that feeble defense. With a curving smile that turns her neutral features wicked, the young woman leans back — or rather straightens from her forward lean, still likely too close for Wendyn's comfort. Close enough for Wendyn to see the half-dimple in her left cheek, certainly. "It doesn't matter, you say?" Her teeth are lovely, as implements of shredding go, even and white. "Are you quite sure?"

"I'm -not- a -thief-." Wendyn answers to Ivy's question as the young woman straightens, narrowing her gaze even as she is put further off balance as moves closer, even as her hands raise between them, glaring down at her. "And no, it doesn't matter. He deserved it, and I got a nice shirt. He didn't even pay his tab." Justification, justification, justification.

"Hmm." Ivy allows her gaze to slowly wind down Wendyn, from her eyes to her toes and then back up, as if cataloguing every part of this potential thief for future reference. "If you say so," she says, her expression changing, morphing in a moment to something more merry, less… smirking enjoyment of another's discomfort. It makes her look much younger than the other expression. "And what was your name again?" With that bright smile on her face, surely she won't do ill with such a thing!

Straightening even as Ivy eyes her, Wendyn humphs at her question, despite how cheerful the assistant headwoman may seem, before shaking her head and moving to step by her and carry on her way - pushing past if need be. "Doesn't matter, you'll see me around. Or maybe you won't." And Wendyn - quite bright in the 'borrowed' shirt is on her way in the fading evening light - straight for the crafters quarters which likely narrows the focus should Ivelyn care to pursue the matter.

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