Curfew was looming and the grounds were abandoned.

Heichath rarely found himself in the company of Lady Ink, despite the relationship between her and his rider. The women went about their business indoors - meeting in secluded, private areas within the Weyr. It had been a very long time since Hiechath was small enough to navigate a tight corridor or narrow doorway, indoors was a distant memory to the great blue.

However, this time was one of the rare occasions the ladies were meeting outside - and Heichath had been invited. There was no purpose to the meeting beyond checking in after a long absence. There was no stopping Heichath's swift and impressive growth, and her beast had rightly stolen all of Dorame’s time, attention and effort.

Now he was fully grown and their place in the Weyr more stable than ever before, Dorame had realised that rekindling the old arrangement between her and Lady Ink was long overdue. The once assassin was too ambitious to be happy with stable.

The regal beast was curled around his ride - his head held high and proud as she leant against the soft hide of his underbelly. In her hand, the woman rhythmically twirled a knife meant for peeling fruit. A means of wasting time as she waited.

By her side the tea was getting cold.