Warmth, Glorious Warmth [Open]

[Fel]

It was spring. Allegedly. Pia rather doubted that it actually was, regardless of what the Starcrafters said about equinoxes and whatever else it was that was supposed to determine seasons. It was still far too cold outside, and she could swear it was snowing harder than it had been at any point during the actual winter. Theoretical winter.

Not that she should have been complaining about the snow. She hadn't been out in it. She'd been in an infirmary that was only slightly chilly, alternately studying and dealing with children's scraped hands and knees from what they swore up and down had not been snowball fights.

She sank into the water with a groan, warmth wrapping around her in the most glorious ways. The knots her bad leg usually managed to tie itself into slowly began to unknit and she flexed her knee gingerly. It always did worse in the cold.

An inquisitive thought came from Ryodath, the words as incomprehensible as ever but the image clear: the little white also in a bath, taking up most of the pool despite her diminutive size.

Not today, Ryo. I didn't go to the Weyrwoman's bath, this one wouldn't fit you.

She hadn't been going as often as she once had. With another goldrider and the associated Weyrleaders, it wasn't empty as often as it had been. But she apparently thought about it often enough for her dragon to remember it was an option. Technically.

Tomorrow?

Iah! Iageno! she chirped, then curled back up in their weyr, content with the implied promise.

Pia leaned back, looking up at the cavern's ceiling. It was... quiet. She hadn't really expected that this early in the evening. Normally the baths were bustling with activity. Maybe it was the snow slowing everyone down—everyone but rambunctious weyrbrats, at least.