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Fruitful Meetings


Date:  October 16, 2004
Place:  Orchards Beside the Bitra River
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Kassi and Emilly are in the Orchard when Vahara enters
and this scene starts, that being where the Weyrlings have made their
camp.  The lady in question--a cousin of Lord Vorlin's--has brought 
the Telgar contingent a gift and an invitation, both of which are 
well-received.

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The Log:

Vahara walks into the orchard from the Central Valley.

Kassima is a short distance upriver from where the Weyrlings are settled,
perched on the grassy bank with her dragon not far behind and a Weyrling
beside her. There are cards spread out in front of them, five for each, and
Kassi's pointing to R'len's hand and explaining, "You don't have much, but
since there's a Harper there you can match it with any of those others for
two of a kind... matter's moot, mind you, since I've a Full Hold, but 'tis
still good t'know."

Vahara strolls sedately out in the Bitran orchard with the aura of one who
could be anywhere in this moment and so belongs nowhere. She pulls the hood
of her cape back to expose her face as she nears the collection of dragons
and riders, not familiar enough with weyrs or weyrlings to know who is who
until she sees knots or picks up gestures or voices spoken in deference to
experience. Nearing enough to speak without having to force any extra
volume to her pleasant voice she offers, "Bitra's duties to Telgar and her
queens." and then indicates the basket over her arm, "I have brought some
fruit from the Hold for the weyrlings and those who train them."

Emilly dozes against Sionath's side, arms folded across her chest, legs
stuck out in front of her. The green weaves her head around to look at the
person walking towards the campsite and warbles softly as she curls
protectively around her rider.

Kassima looks up from her cards, her head turning towards the sound of that
voice--and Lysseth's head, behind her, doing the same. "Alas," she says,
"that rules me out, but I daresay the Weyrlings will be thrilled. Heard a
rumor that one of 'em was having nightmares about tripe all night long...
but pardon; I forget manners. Duties t'Bitra and her Lord in exchange,
a'course." She elbows the Weyrling next to her, who quickly echoes the
greeting before scooting back and away--to tell his clutchmates, perhaps.

A'tan walks into the orchard from the Central Valley.

Leonneth walks into the orchard from the Central Valley.

A'tan walks over to the group and looks around. He snaps off a salute to
those who need it and smiles at everyone he knows. His green lumbers behind
him and soars to a spot next to the river.

Vahara smirks in a friendly fashion towards Kassima and sets the basket
down, "I'm sure you can have some as well, Rider. Wingleader? All can be
included in the fruit for the tripe has been enough to give even Himself
nightmares." And there's a pleased tone at the end, as if the Bakers have
scored a great coup. "Fruit from down south, I'm sure everyone must be half
sick of apples by now." The sleeping rider and her green are given a
curious look before A'tan is given a smile of welcome. "I am also to invite
everyone for dinner tomorrow night in the great hall. Not tripe, nor even a
hint of it, for the Bakers have agreed to lift the injunction."

"Wingleader," Kassi confirms with a wry grin. "To my perpetual joy.
Thunderbolt Wingleader, specifically, but feel free t'call me by name
rather than title--I'm Kassima, and the green thing behind me calls itself
Lysseth." There's a soft snort from that shadowy figure. "We were spared it
in the Hall yestereve, but just the *thought* of tripe's enough to... oh,
bless you! This is marvelous. A'tan! C'mere; there's fruit." After hailing
the green Weyrling so cheerfully, she adds by way of introduction, "That
young man's A'tan, green Leonneth's Weyrling--'tis Emilly, green Sionath's
rider who sleeps there. Have they truly? Did M'rek and Gerome make amends,
then?"

Emilly cracks an eye open as something percolates through sleeping brain.
"No! Tripe! No ... oh wait ... huh?" she says expressively and sits up,
rubbing at sleepy eyes. "What's this now?"

A'tan grins as he makes his way over to Kassima and nods to Vahara,
"Telgar's duties." He looks at the fruit and selects something. "Oh this is
wonderful. I like apples, but I've been eating them most of the day and it
has given me a sour stomach. Maybe something else will help it." He looks
over at Emilly, "Come get some fruit. dont worry no tripe."

Vahara gives a half nod to Kassima as the rank is confirmed for her and she
moves downwards then in a soft rustling of emerald skirts to open the
basket and reveal the assortment of choice fruit for all to see. Rising
once more, the serene woman uses one hand to brush a loose wisp of hair
back from her forehead and says with a smile, "Thunderbolt Wingleader. I
hope we are well met, Kassima and Lysseth, A'tan and Leonneth, Emilly and
Sionath. I'm Vahara, of Crom and, of late, Bitra as well. Bitran enough to
have eaten tripe for days now. No more tripe, though. We are assured by the
benevolent Master Myriana." Another smile and then she walks from the
basket as if to make it more accessible. "I believe that some satisfaction
was gained from Gerome and M'rek both, at last. As much as could be gained
from that pairing."

Emilly rubs at her eyes again and then smiles broadly. "Fruit? Oh that
sounds lovely!" she gets to her feet and gives the whuffling Sionath a pat
then approaches the Bitran to explore what she's brought. One palm is held
out in greeting for that matter too. "Emilly, green Sionath's, High
Reaches, temporarily assigned to Telgar and these fine young people here."
Then she blinks at Vahara for a few moments. "No more trip? Oh excellent!"
she says brightly and then hunkers down to see what she can find in the
basket.

Kassima twists about to grin back over her shoulder at Emilly. "Nay tripe,"
she says, echoing A'tan's reassurance. "This lady here has most generously
brought us a gift of fruit and an invitation to a tripeless dinner
tomorrow. Come eat?" She abandons her cards in favor of moving to pull a
redfruit from the basket herself, smiling her thanks to their benefactor.
"Well met indeed--ah, Vahara," and by the momentary rise of her brows,
she's heard that name before. "Duties t'Crom and her Lord as well, then.
And m'deepest sympathy for the tripe. I daresay that nay much satisfaction
could be gained *by* those two, either, as far as pairing goes. At least,
if'n the rumors I've heard are aught t'go by."

Vahara places one delicate, and cool to the touch hand over Emilly's arm in
meeting the traditional greeting before she lets go so that the rider from
High Reaches can enjoy her share of the offering. She confirms the talk of
tomorrow, "Yes, dinner for all of you, it should be a grand affair, though
you should all know you are welcomed as you are. There is no need to dress
beyond how you are all usually comfortable for dinner." The raised eyebrows
from Kassima earn a curious look from under thick, black lashes, and then a
smile. "I will be glad to convey your sympathy for the situation to his
Lordship. He has been..." and now there's a bit of silvery laughter,
"..much vexed by the tripe. Yes, I would think that rumors could almost do
that pair justice."

A'tan sits down near the basket also pulling out a redfruit. He takes a
bite and chews as the juice drips down his chin. His dark eyes seem to
sparkle as the food is enjoyed to the fullest. "Try the redfruit Em...I
mean aide. It is very good." He looks over at Leonneth who is now lying
next to the river. She dips her wing into the water and watches it rush
over it making little streams and patterns. She lifts it up again an tilts
her head as she watches a sticks float by. Her curiosity get the best of
her as she dips her snout in trying to catch it, but misses. She snorts as
the water goes up her nose and blows out making an awful noise.

Emilly snorts softly at mention of M'rek and Gerome pairing up. "Riiight,"
she says and extracts something suitably tropical before returning to perch
on Sionath's foreleg. "Oh ... and Duties to Crom and Bitra," she tacks on
as she starts to peel and eat her fruit. "I will in a second A'tan," she
says casually. "I want to try this beauty out first," she waves her
half-peeled fruit. "Dinner sounds very lovely. I think I brought a dress
with me ... and even if I didn't it's just a short hop Between to the
nearest clothes press."

Kassima has to wonder in rather wry tones, "Is it possible t'*nay* be vexed
by tripe? I did rather think they'd probably make their apologies swiftly.
A'fore a mob in the heat of tripe fury could descend on their heads." She
bites into the redfruit, taking care not to spill its juice all over
herself or speak before she's swallowed. "Your name came up in a
conversation I had recently," she tells Vahara by way of explanation.
"Concerning the Crom and Bitra Bloodlines; or at least, I'm guessing you're
the Vahara who was mentioned. 'Twill be an honor t'dine; I can probably
rummage up something. Is Leonneth all right, A'tan?"

Dragon> Lysseth senses that Leonneth croons softly with a curious tone.
<<This water moves in one direction. It is not like the pond at home>>

Vahara moves a few more steps away and then turns so that she can see much
of the group at once, one hand adjusting her skirts and cloak with long
practiced grace. The noise from Leonneth draws her green-eyed gaze but not
for long as she's more interested in the riders than the dragons. "Thank
you for your duties. You are all very welcome to dress for dinner if you
like, I would be glad to make my rooms available to any of the women for
that purpose. I believe that the hold up on the apology for the tripe was
that Rider M'rek was concussed." There's a smirk here now on curved lips,
"In so much as the Healers could tell. And needed time to recover himself
to be up to the task at hand. I can not speak as to what held up Gerome."
Now Kassima gets a look of intelligent interest, "Did you? Yes, I would
like be the Vahara you discussed. I am the cousin to Lord Vorlin, and am
therefore of both bloodlines."

Lysseth> Leonneth senses that Lysseth agrees, simply, << It is not a lake;
it is a river. It stretches across far more land, >> and there's a slightly
misty memory of the Bitra River as seen from above, snaking its way south
towards the sea.

Emilly nibbles on a section of fruit liberated from peel. "Concussed? It
was that bad ... Shells!" she exclaims and peers towards the Hold. "I'll
have to go and check in with him later," she muses and licks juices off her
fingers. Then she falls silent, listening to the bloodline discussion
without comment.

A'tan smiles as he looks over at his little green. He chuckles softly and
nods, "Yeah she is fine. She is very curious though that the river actually
flows. She said it isn't like the lake at home." He takes another bite of
the fruit and wips his chin, "She likes the way it feels as it runs over
her wing." The weyrling scoots over and leans back against a tree to listen
to the conversation, very much interested in bloodlines.

"A concussion would do that," Kassima agrees after a slow blink of
surprise. "Shells. Could tell he did something t'his nose, but--I've said
it a'fore, but it truly must've been some brawl. I'm almost, almost sorry I
missed seeing it. 'Twill have t'ask him when I see him next if'n he gave
nigh as good as he got." She dips her chin in a nod then. "Indeed. 'Twas
curious as t'which Bitran Line the Lord was descended from, which brought
up the topic of inheritance--a'course, the subject of lines has come up
again since then; it seems t'be a popular topic here just now, with all the
bride-candidates about. Interesting times. Honor t'your Holds, a'course."
Flashing a grin at A'tan, she says, "Ah, aye--this must be the first river
she's seen. I confess, 'tis one of m'favorite river-spots on Pern."

Vahara has to adjust the lowered hood of her cape once more as a light
breeze blows the fabric towards one side of her face and then she looks to
Emilly, eyes widened, "It was quite serious, I understand. The healer I
spoke to was not sure Rider M'rek would awaken the next morning. I haven't
seen the boy myself to confirm this, though I have heard a great deal about
the fight from the healers and one of the guards. It must have been
something." A smile curves her mouth in a pleasant fashion, "They should
have thought to take wagers upon it first. I understand that they are now
one for one on knockouts after two such encounters. I would think that
M'rek gave Gerome something to feel the next morning." A smirk now, "M'rek
was never one to go gently into that good night." There's another soft
thrill of laughter and then Vahara nods, "There are many bride potentials
in the Hold these days, from several bloodlines."

Kassima murmurs, with a concern now to match Em's for all that she's seen
M'rek since, "Nay awaken... that *is* bad. Faranth's kidneys on sticks. He
was walking about though yesterday, Em," she thinks to reassure quickly.
"He was in the Great Hall when I came in with the Weyrlings, so he's
probably still alive." Maybe 'reassure' isn't quite the right word. "Is
there some particular *reason* they hate each other this much, or is it
just one of those things? Aye, that matches what 'twas told. Though 'twas
speculated that quite a few have some tie to a Bitra Line; 'tis so?"

Emilly's brow furrows deeply. "-That- bad?" she looks concerned indeed now.
"But he did wake up ..." she looks towards Kassi as the other greenrider
confirms it. "Hmm ..." she murmurs to herself though there's a glance
Vahara's way for her "good night" comment.

A'tan nods his head with serious eyes, "It is quite frightening when
someone doesn't awaken." His voice is soft and gentle moving like a fine
instrument. He takes another bite of his fruit as he looks around the area
and then back at Leonneth who has put her head down near the water and
sniffs every once in a while. She wuffles as a leaf floats by.

Vahara offers what little assurance she can as well in dulcet modulation,
"I'm sure he's still alive, for all that I have not seen him, many others
have." Eyes slide off towards the basket of fruit and then the woman
continues on in the same voice, "Hate? I don't know, I haven't heard any
gossip in that regard that I could consider reliable. I just took it as
boys being boys. Highly destructive boys at that." But now she looks
interested in looking further into the matter to see if she can fathom
intentions. Then there's the matter of bloodlines, "There are many who
believe that there is nothing better for the Holding of Bitra than Bitran
blood. It is a most interesting Hold, with it's own peculiar ipseity."

"Well, it could be so," says Kassima, but she sounds doubtful. "M'rek had
mentioned brawling and I'd thought it as much--nay that Telgar hasn't its
share of women who enjoy the same--only trying t'kill each other does seem
a more extreme thing. Destroying *things*, well. I've sons; naught you can
tell me about the male tendency t'do that." She flicks a wry grin to
Emilly. A moment later she's nodding her agreement to Vahara: "Very much
its own place. And mayhaps they're looking t'end the odd trend of breaks in
the Line that seems t'have ruled since the Pass started, what with the
fosterlings and spouses inheriting."

Vahara opens her eyes wider a moment at some of Kassima's words about the
brawling and she looks as though her interest has been piqued, "Women, my
goodness. I suppose they wouldn't need to be trying to kill each other
outright to get towards that end." Fingers pluck now at the clasp on her
cloak as if uncertain, "I will ask around, I had not thought it could've
been true enmity. I don't know Gerome more than to recognize the sight of
him. Have you sons of your own then, Kassima?" A smile to go with the
polite interest before she turns to the last subject, "It has been
upsetting for many to see Bitra change hands in such a fashion far too
often over the course of the pass. I think some of the holders would like
to see Bitra held by Bitran blood for some turns to come."

Kassima seems glad enough to go on with that topic: "Quite a few of 'em;
m'own Wingsecond Yashira's a bit notorious for it. She tried t'beat up our
Weyrleader once, they say. And planted a knee where it counted on a
brownrider just a'fore a flight on another occasion. Aye, though, I take
your meaning; 'tis easy t'get carried away in the heat of the moment, in
such things." She pauses. "Or so I've heard said. 'Twill have t'ask M'rek
about it m'self, for curiosity's sake. Has he ever said aught of it t'you,
Em? Oh, aye, I do have sons," and her teeth flash in a quick grin. "Four.
And four daughters. A wonder 'tis that I've any furniture left. I'truth, I
can't blame the Holders--there's much t'be said for that sort of stability,
and of having some idea in advance of who your next leader will be."

Vahara listens to Kassima with bright eyes and then laughs, one hand going
to cover her mouth as the Wingleader gets to the part about the Brownrider,
"Oh! How unfortunate for him! I'm afraid I wouldn't be much of one to brawl
myself." eyelashes bat here and then the woman laughs again, "Of course, I
could defend myself briefly if need be, but generally speaking the most I'd
be able to manage is to shock enough for discouragement's sake." Her smile
turns analytical now, "Yes, it's possible to get carried away with things.
Especially things like fighting. Yes, you should like just ask him right
out, if he's still the same old M'rek, he'll tell you like it as not." A
friendly look goes to the other greenrider as Kassima addresses her and
then attention belongs to Lysseth's rider once more, "Four of each? How
lucky you are to be so blessed. Yes, there is a general feeling of welcome
here for a more sure future than there has been in the past. So often it
seems that a Holding gains a lot of it's pride from the strength of it's
Lord or Lady."

"'Tis just as well for him that he didn't *win* the flight, after that,"
mischief bids Kassi to quip. The fluttering lashes get an outright grin.
"I'm closer to a brawler than a lady m'self, I fear, though I've never been
involved in a great fight. Just as well that, too, since I'm trained with
knives more than fists. There is something t'be said for self-defense; but
one should hope, a'course, that in such a fine Hold as Bitra there would be
nay need for such concerns." Her voice shades towards bland for that
statement. "Probably he will. Particularly if'n I have hard liquor on hand
for sharing when I ask." Now her expression warms, as it generally does
when her children are the topic. "I didn't always think so while 'twas
bearing 'em," she wryly admits, "but I am most lucky. Fortune has blessed
me in almost every way. And little wonder, then, that Bitra has so long
been a strong Hold--I called Lady Fil friend, and knew Lord Tenefel in
passing; Lord Carow, more distantly. I'd call them all strong in their own
ways. Lord Vorlin, too, would seem possessed of strength."

Emilly blinks a few times and resurfaces, perhaps from inward conversation
with Sionath. "Hmm? No he hasn't Kassi," she murmurs for a previous
question and shrugs. "Though from things he's said before ... he didn't
seem overly fond of the man." Then she pulls a handkerchief from her pocket
and wipes off her fingers. "I've two boys myself ... though Paddy's the one
who really went through the furniture," she notes, expression a touch
pensive. She listens to talk of Lords and Ladies Holders past, again
without remark until the current one is mentioned and then she clears her
throat. "Strength indeed, for Bitra seems to prosper."

Vahara let's another peal of light laughter out at the further mention of
the unnamed brownrider, "I would think it was good he didn't win as well,
for all involved there." laughter settles into a girlish giggle before
Vahara can speak once more, "Yes, knives would be much worse, if it's your
natural bend to go that way. Oh, Bitra is likely safe enough, it's the
Bitrans who're the danger." This comes with a teasing smirk as that last
seems to be a general joke in this Hold. And now the woman gets busy with
her skirts for some unknown reason, they do seem to be still arranged in an
exact fashion. At last she looks up, "I was not fortunate enough to have
known any of those past Holder, let alone to be able to call any of Bitra's
Lords or Ladies friend. Yes, there is some prosperity here." A tactful
seeming ending. Now both greenriders are smiled too, "That's a goodly
number of children between you. Bodes well for the coming interval, doesn't
it? To have so many bright, shining faces, even if some of them are boys
being boys."

"Oh, indeed. I can well imagine the pique of the greenrider, if'n he had,"
Kassima says in a very deadpan way. "'Tis m'bend and m'training; m'Da was a
Guard once, and he and a pair of cousins taught me the arts when 'twas
small. More as a hobby than because there was need, but I've turned a
profit from it from time t'time. As t'that," she agrees with another grin,
"I can well believe it." She's polished off her redfruit long since. After
a moment's study of her empty hands, she decides to liberate another from
the basket. "I didn't meet any either until I flew for Benden, and I still
haven't met any Lords of Crom, so we're even. Prosperity does come in many
forms." The Wingleader's eyes brighten. "Exactly so. M'youngest son, who's
three now, likely won't even remember Thread. That seems half a miracle t'me."

Vahara laughs again and drops her hands to clasp them in front of her,
"You've not missed anything in not knowing Lord Crom. There are many much
more entertaining people, like anyone else." The origin of that particular
Kassima talent is taken in with wide and interested eyes, especially after
Emilly's comment, "And you use it to turn a profit? That's fascinating.
I've a hair pin, but that's hardly in the same rank as your knives sound.
Yes, it'll be nice to see today's children grow into a world that's at
least missing that one particular worry."

Kassima makes a moue of modesty, sufficiently exaggerated that her
amusement is plain. "You flatter me again, Em. For true artistry with edged
weapons, 'tis a proddy Flannery you'd need t'see." She's willing enough to
talk about the knives, regardless: "Occasionally I can get someone t'pay me
a bit t'teach 'em the rudiments, but mostly I win marks or prizes with
wagers. Won a knife-throwing contest here, as a matter of fact, though
that's been Turns and Turns agone now. And I won a private wager with
Keagan too--he was Bitra's Steward in Fil's time, a'fore he was her fiance.
Both landed me with handsome knives for the collection. Is the hair pin
sharp?" It's a serious question. "I know of small, thin blades that can be
worn in the hair. I had heard that Lord Crom was... ah... how t'put it?
Temperamental. Think you that there'll be worries enough t'take Thread's
place?"

Emilly lifts her shoulders slightly. "I can't help it Kassi - the image is
graven in my memory," she says with a wink and taps lightly on her noggin.
"I've never met Lord Crom. Temperamental?" one brow lifts at Kassima's
assessment and Vahara's stated opinion of the Lord in question. "As for
what will take Thread's place ... I would hope for exploration and
creativity, rather than a new -worry-," states the younger of the greenriders.

Vahara reaches up to her artfully arranged hair and withdraws a jewelled
hair pin that is indeed sharp looking, she holds it in her palm and
outstretches it so it can be seen, or handled if the interest is there. "It
can leave a terrible scratch, but that's the extent of my dangers, unless a
little wit counts for anything." A smile dances over her rose hued lips and
she listens to the other women talk before adding, "My yes, Lord Crom is
awfully tempremental. Inelegant and, to be quite honest, uncouth." Her
petite nose is wrinkled. "I really spend as little time as possible at
Crom. I try to only go there when it's my duty to do so." And then there's
the talk of other worries and she gives a demure smile, "There's always
something worry about, isn't there? If the threads aren't falling we worry
about those who forget about the threads falling, or other such things."

Emilly eyes the sharp pin with rather an unsettled look, then adds her own
scrunched up face to the pool. "Oh dear - he doesn't sound at all like the
sort of Lord I'd like to meet then." She pats at her own hair rather
distractedly feeling the sharp point of the stick that threads through the
carved wooden bar there. "I suppose people do always find -something- to
worry about she agrees," then slips off of Sionath's foreleg. "If you'll
excuse me - I think I need to head up towards the Hold for a bit. Vahara -
a pleasure to meet you. I hope that we'll have the chance to speak again."

"I wonder that your father never had m'hide for traumatizing his daughter
for life," Kassi teases the other greenrider right back. "So too would I
like t'hope. And mayhaps it shall be so... in the Turns closest to the
Pass, at least." Always interested in knives, she leans forward to better
see as best moonlight allows, and reaches a hand forward--after scrubbing
it against her slacks, though she's been careful of juice--to lightly
touch. "I do like it. You could perhaps put it through someone's eye if'n
'twere in true danger and the chance was there. A small weapon can serve;
and wit is certes nay small weapon, aye? It might nay stand up against a
blade, but it can keep the blade from being unsheathed in the first place."
After a moment she adds, a bit droll, "As may be well for M'rek. Does duty
take you there often? --Oh, aye, that. 'Twill happen soon enough. Sooner
than the Weyrs would like, certainly." She flashes Emilly a smile as the
other woman moves. "See you later then, Em."

Emilly waves Kassima's way grinning. "Da, had already moved to Igen by
then," she notes in parting. "I'll see you later - maybe we'll have a
campfire?" Then she's laughing and striding off.

Vahara smiles to Emilly, "Nice to meet you as well, Hopefully we'll see
each other at dinner."

Emilly walks down the path out of the Orchard.

Vahara looks to Kassima and laughs, a silvery sound, "Yes, I suppose you
could put it in someone's eye if you had the stomach for it, which I just
don't." She tilts her head a little to look off before going on with the
conversation, "Yes, duty does take me to Crom more than I'd like. I'm a bit
of a go between for family members."

"Had he? I suppose that might've been before the move," Kassi murmurs to
herself, puzzling. She dismisses the thought in favor of grinning wryly to
Vahara. "Truth? I'd hate t'be admitting it in front of too many, but I
don't know whether 'twould either. Save in defense of Lyss or m'children,
mayhaps. Or self. For Vorlin and Lord Crom?"

Vahara keeps her head tilted as she nods to Kassima, "Yes, it's a serious
thing to do something like that. It's also serious to defend one's
children. Oh, these days mostly for Vorlin. Lord Crom doesn't pay as well."

"Never something t'do lightly," Kassima agrees. "I jest about it, but I've
never killed someone, nor seriously hurt them. I hope I never have to.
Ah--" This amuses her. "Profit being a worthy priority, a'course. Now I'm
curious as t'what business Lord Vorlin does with Lord Crom, but mayhaps
'tis better nay t'be asking, aye?"

Vahara laughs, silvery once more at Kassima, "All kinds of business, much
of it just what you'd expect. I'm afraid I should get back to the Hold, but
it's been delightful to meet you, Kassima."

Vahara walks down the path out of the Orchard.