These days Teagen was doing... well, perhaps "better" wasn't quite the right word, but she wasn't doing worse either. Although Syra and Rasenth had truly been supportive, and there for Teagen, she hadn't really made any improvements. However, then again, with those that had an inkling of what losing a dragon felt like, perhaps not doing worse was doing good in this case. For the most part, Teagen worked, spending most of her time in the crafter complex, working on helping with leather tanning, or even making things. She used the tool apron that Syra had commissioned as a gift for Teagen though, finding it very helpful, but also... a strange sort of comfort as well, the weight of it and the tie around her waste making her feel more secure in a way she couldn't put into words. It somehow made the days a little easier to manage, like the apron was a shield from whatever else the world wanted to torment her with next.
Some days, however, her fellow tanners made her get out of the hall. While many were sympathetic to her suffering at least, they still didn't want to see her wasting away inside every single day. She needed to rest sometimes, though getting her to do that was easier said than done. Teagen was already a good worker before this, but now it was a distraction for her as well, her grief pumping up her desire to work to distract from what she felt, or what the future held. The future was still hard for her to think about much, the best she could do was think about tomorrow. However, today, Teagen had found herself kicked out of the hall.
"We don't have any work for you today, everyone else already has it taken care of,"
one of the senior members of the hall insisted, practically pushing Teagen out the door when she tried to argue. "Others need to get some work in too, and apprentices need to practice some of the other jobs, so you are being kicked out for the day. We don't want to see you hanging around, got it?"
The words by themselves sounded almost mean, as if Teagen was being rejected, but the tone said otherwise, stern, yes, but casual, perhaps even caring a bit. Still, leaving the hall and her tool apron behind for the day hadn't been easy, and eventually, after pacing around the crafthall complex and even peeking by the Weyr greenhouse, Teagen decided to walk to the bathhouse to kill some time.
However, Teagen didn't go the most direct route, opting to take a more roundabout way along the edges of the Weyr proper until she came up to the river that cut through the west edge of the Yard. From there she followed it up toward the lake. Taking this long way served two purposes for her, helping her to waste time, but also to avoid dragons, dominantly, the Weyrlings. Teagen might not break down around dragons, but sometimes their presence was a little much for her, and the Weyrlings... especially the White pair, as she learned what they were being called now... They were too much for her to handle still, so she tended to avoid that class and her old Dragon Candidate peers when she couldn't hide away in the tanner hall of the Weyr.
This long route took a while, but also took Teagen near the lake. She knew, on a day like this, there was the chance she would come across dragons bathind, even the Weyrlings, so she planned to cut across the yard after the bend in the river, to avoid the lake. It wasn't perfect though, as this route still took her close at one point about three fourths between the river bend and the bathhouse, the slightly oblong shape of the Weyr lake bringing it surprisingly close to the large heated building. Luckily, today, the Weyrlings at least weren't there, allowing her to avoid them for a while longer. However, as she came close to the lake, movements and a voice drew her attention, naturally looking over to locate the source.
It was a man, she noticed, talking out loud. Perhaps she thought it was to himself at first, but as her steps slowed in curiosity, she noticed the gray colored beast that he was hanging in the water with. The creature was caked in mud, but she could still see his gray hide and the whirl of happy dragonkin eyes. She soon realized that this creature was one of the Weyr's Daywhers, a Southern creature that lived only on the western side of the continent, and had a strong relationship with New Atricis. However, during Teagen's time here, she really hadn't interacted with them much, or really seen the daywhers much outside of brief glances.
Curiously, she stopped, watching the man and Daywher interact, a glitter of gold catching her eye as well. She was impressed at the size of the flitt, not having seen a Gold Prize fancy flit before. However, as grief tended to do, it gripped her chest tightly, feeling like it might squeeze her heart until it stopped beating as the bathing Daywher made her think of what it would have been like to bathe her dragonet. How big would they have been by now? Would that daywher there be bigger than them still? Was bathing a dragonet anything like bathing a daywher like the man and his furflit were doing? She wished she hadn't thought of dragonets and baths though, holding her hand to her own chest as she breathed through the intense wave of sorrow that struck her in that moment.