Monaco Bay Weyr- Clearing
The main clearing of Monaco Bay Weyr is immense, a sprawling space carved out from the verdant jungle that is constantly threatening to encroach from the north and east. There are a few pathways paved with dark stone; otherwise, the ground is full of dust — or worse, mud, during the rainy season — due to the constant churn from dragons taking off and landing. The trees tend to be enormous affairs, sweeping the skies far above the heads of any dragons, with trunks bigger than a dragonlength around. Shaded by the surrounding foliage is the single feature that makes this area suitable for habitation: a series of large bubble caverns provide permanence and shelter for the inhabitants of this tropical Weyr.
It's mid afternoon at Monaco Bay Hold, and that means there's a bit of hustle and bustle around. That means the courtyard…well, the large grassy plain that's the courtyard, is teeming with people. That may be in part to the single trader's wagon that has come to advertise their caravan. It's a handful of people that are advertising The River Traders with a variety of clothes, jewelry, little knick knacks, books, and many other things. While most focus on trying to sell the hold residents something or another, one of them seems to be going around scandalizing people. That…would be Feyran. The frumpy looking girl is dressed in gray leggings, a navy blue dress, and oversized green jacket that has all sorts of pockets. "You really should pull up that hemline a few more inches…it'd look /perfect/." These are the words said to some poor lady in a skirt. Oh yes, Feyran is here to torment!
If Feyran's scandalizing, then Vantayne's pretty traditional in approach…or lack of one. The young man is wandering around the hold and eyeing the sights in quiet, yet curious fashion, given that he's not often 'allowed' to come here. His clothes are a bit dusty here and there, as if all his attempts to clean then via slapping at the dry dirt didn't quite succeed.
"Come onnnn, it'll look good!" Feyran smirks at the poor lady, who looks positively scared and promptly proceeds to run away. "Tch, boring!" That's the trader's remark for the parting figure. It's only a moment later that Fey interlocks her fingers behind her and starts to look around for something more interesting. Back to the wagon? Nah. Annoy the quiet looking guy over there that's wearing dusty clothes? Now that sounds promising! It's with quick steps that the young looking one makes her way over and casually falls into step beside Vantayne. "Hey there!" There, a random and yet simple greeting!
What's this… a nit that's attached itself to him? Vantayne's hazel eyes flick a hint warily over Feyran - given her nature - and he finds himself noting in a neutral, light baritone, "Can I help you?" Even /that/ helpful utterance is a little hesitant, since /he's/ plainly the one out of his league, here.
"Nope!" Feyran grins broadly but keeps her hands behind her head, elbows up in the air. "Come out to take a look at the wagon?" She asks this casually, but the poor holder isn't going to get rid of her anytime soon…poor guy! "The name's Feyran by the way, Feyran River of the River Traders…we're located not too far from the Weyr, drop by and see us if you find the time." It isn't much of a pitch really. What any other trader would deliver with great gusto she repeats as if it's some boring line she's obligated to say…which it is in fact.
Hoo boy…one of /those/ types. The pestering and loud ones. Such sentiments might be noticable in Vantayne's eyes, though his expression remains somewhat schooled as he slowly draws to a halt while 'viciously attacked' by Feyran. "Just looking, really…" the slightly-dusty guy murmurs beneath the young woman's question and interrogation session, a small nod given to her. "Vantayne, of <insert yet-to-be-thought-of name here> holding." She might know of it, as it's a minor hold around 30 miles inland of Monaco Bay…and perhaps her clan has been there before.
Yup! One of those…and Vantayne is stuck with her! "Hmmmm, the name sounds familiar but I don't remember much about the place." Feyran considers the name a little bit longer before giving up with a shrug. "I like you're name, but it's a mouthful." Which is…a compliment? The trader girl has this habit of saying things in a two pronged manner. "Just looking is fine." In fact, if someone's actually paying attention Feyran does seem to be flicking her gaze to the wagon occasionally, for whatever reason.
For a moment, something almost trips out of his mouth, but quickly enough, Vantayne squelches it, then looks both vaguely pleased and yet irked at turns by Feyran's response to his name. Finally he ventures, "Two syllables aren't much…" in much the same fashion as she did to him. Dual meanings, away! He is paying at least enough attention to the Trader to notice where her eyes keep returning to, and - with a hint of impatience - the young man notes, "Is there something I can help you with?" because really, he'd rather be wandering and looking, if not…and so his slightly cocked eyebrow might imply.
"Two syllables are great, it's just that you've got all those other letters thrown in!" Feyran smirks a bit and moves her hands so that they're now in her pockets. "Hm? No, just being friendly. You're another one of those type that likes to be alone all the time, huh?" Even if he isn't, that seems to be the assumption the trader girl is going with. Her gaze flicks back to the wagon, and then to the path in front again. "Shall I escort you to the wagon, good sir?" And watch that smirk just stay frozen in place there.
Again, he seems just about to flick something whip-like off his tongue, but once more Vantayne snuffs it out, something irritated now dwelling on his mouth, as well as in hazel eyes. As for 'alone all the time,' the tall holder responds with some stubborn bit of rancor, "I wouldn't want to even bother to try and cheat you of your opinion…" An escort? "Why? So you and someone else can try to part me from my marks?"
Feyran blinks for a moment, head tilting to the side as she eyes Vantayne. "What? You think we're going to pick your pockets for marks or something?" The very idea actually earns a bark of laughter and she shakes her head. "Nah, you said you were looking around so I figure you could look around there too. I don't actually /care/ if you buy anything or not." So she isn't a salesperson! What gave it away…how young she looks or that amazingly irritating personality?
"Pick them through the art of selling me something 'I just can't do without…'" Vantayne responds a little dourly back to Feyran, the holder looking a little surprised at her laughter. "What /do/ you do for your family, if you're not in sales? Drive away those they don't want near?" Smirk.
"Today it's mostly just to grab everyone's interest and lure then into visiting the /actual/ caravan. Instead of selling you something, they'll show you something nice, tell you they've got better offers and deals where we're camped out and lure you in that way." So…Feyran apparently just gives out caravan secrets! /This/ is why she can't be salesperson, among many other reasons. "Actually…that's exactly what I do." The trader girl snickers at Vantayne's assessment and nods. So it's not the /whole/ truth. She's one of the guards (as surprising as it may be) and /does/ drive off the people making trouble.
Again, Vantayne looks vaguely surprised at his 'conversational companion's' apparent willingness to be blunt, the young man losing a little of the seriousness and ephemeral hesitation about him, and seeming his actual age, in the process. As she's yet to actually be a putz to him, the holder finally finds himself admitting under his breath, "I guess I kind of do need a new shoulder rig…" A shrug of his slightly broad shoulders and look to his right arm might point out to Feyran the rather obvious, padded strap of leather buckled cross-wise over his chest and back, holding a quiver of arrows beneath the longbow at his back. With sudden, low warning, "But nothing expensive." Scowl.
Feyran glances over to the shoulder rig he has on, and for once…well, that might be the first somewhat serious look she's had since the beginning of this conversation. The fixture is viewed with a critical eye before she's nodding a few times, "Are you looking for something similar to this?" Wait, she actually /knows/ something? Strange indeed! "We've got a few things you might like, just tell them Fey sent you and you'll give them the good prices." Because really? Anyone that actually talks to her long enough to be told this sort of earns better prices!
The leather rig at his chest, back does look somewhat worn, slightly cracked with age and use. "Yes…" Vantayne responds back thoughtfully, though when Feyran responds as if to send him on his way alone, the holder again hesitates. "I will…" he finally murmurs, adding onto that almost as an afterthought, "So you're on duty, I take it?"
Feyran perhaps senses his hesitation and grins a bit, "Maybe you do need an escort after all? I'm not sure if they brought the rigs with them, but doesn't hurt to check." She gives a little shrug and lets her gaze flick back to the wagon and then to Vantayne. "Me? On duty? Of coarse not." Though by the tone of voice, she's joking and probably is. "Don't tell anyone though…that's the beauty of it you see. I'm the last person they'd think was here to get rid of the unwanted folk." It's true. The frumpy looking girl looks more like someone without a home than someone with an actual position in the caravan.
Scowl. He so does /not/. Vantayne draws himself up tall, proud, and sure of his own capabilities…at least on the outside. He does cut rather the capable figure, really, and handsome, at that. And then Feyran has to go and play 'confuse-a-holder' with him, which prompts more of Tayne's temper in, "Quit mind-fucking me, woman." Pause. "What /are/ you?"
"Ohhh, pushed a button there did I?" Feyran sounds…far too delighted at that. She just barely manages to hold in a laugh before shaking her head. "I'm the girl that gets rid of the people that are bothering my caravan…causing trouble…that sort of thing." She's about to add something onto that, but manages to stop herself. "You guessed it right the first time you know…but I'm serious about not spreading that around." Again, another /very/ rare moment of sincerity.
For a moment, it looks as if /he/ wants to push a button of hers back…namely by beating Feyran about the head and shoulders with his bow, which Vantayne's slightly-clenched-up fingers itch to reach for, for a moment. Sanity makes a return after some deep inner breaths, but the holder's temper is still up enough, for he counters with a low, "It's a wonder they haven't gotten rid of /you/, in the process…" Stare. Still, his prickly self manages to notice her emphasis on keeping her apparent 'job' schtum, and he mutters, "I'll keep it under my hat." The broad-brimmed one on his head. "Which way?" is then grumbled, since he does have to replace that strap about his shoulders, ultimately. Also, "Is there a place that sells ices?" He sounds a little hopeful of a chill, sweet treat after a couple days on the road.
He could try! In fact, it'd probably be quite entertaining if he did. Throwdown in the hold! "I must have this natural charm that they just can't resist." Feyran smirks a bit, because this is apparently her idea for why they haven't gotten rid of her. Then again…she treats members of her caravan /very/ differently than everyone else. "Thanks." About keeping it under wraps. At the question though, she points over to where a small group of people has gathered. "I'd try my luck there…we don't deal in much more than spices though, but if you want something icy I'd probably go look in the main hall."
"Like a v-tol…" the holder notes a little gruffly, Vantayne giving Feyran a bit of the stink-eye for a few moments…that idea of thumping on her still dwelling within his head. A solemn bob of head for the young woman's thanks is followed by his look to where she points, the youth then looking all about him. "Been awhile since I've been here…" he murmurs a little fatalistically, likely envisioning himself getting lost along the way to said main Hall. He's too damned proud to ask anyone to accompany him, however, so unless Feyran or someone else in the know feels like tagging along, Tayne will take awhile longer than he wished to find those refreshing ices in various flavors. Hopefully he'll not get accosted by other Traders along his way.