One small pack slung across his back, the others situated near the entrance to the Lower Caverns, Henrik gave a small wave to the tithe's caravan master as he left the man to grab some stew from the fire and went to investigate the kitchens. He'd traveled with the group from Hurricane Hold for a small fee, much of which turned out to be using his skills to their advantage along the way. Everyone appreciated a well-cooked meal, especially people who were on the road more often than not, and he'd made a few friends during the trip. The easiest way to ingratiate himself to others was usually through their stomachs and he damn well knew it.

Just arriving in the Weyr felt like an accomplishment, even though it was less a destination now than a fresh start. After a while on the road, though, it was good to know he could settle in somewhere again. He just wasn't made for a life of traveling. Makeshift cooking areas were fine for a little while, but if he'd been without a proper kitchen for much longer he would have started gnawing on something. Or someone. He wasn't quite sure.

How were things being managed in the kitchens now? Who was in charge with the old head cook retired? Did they temporarily hire a replacement or was one of the assistants stepping up for a short while? The latter was more likely, though they couldn't be especially good or they would have just been promoted.

He ducked back from the mess hall and into the kitchen, taking it all in for the first time. Nothing jumped out at him immediately as 'wrong', but something wasn't sitting quite right with him. There wasn't enough hustle. Wasn't there preparation to do for the evening meal? True, it was two and a few hours away, but people should have been getting everything set up - cutting tubers, chopping greens, preparing the meat, and other such things. They should have been doing it with speed. As it was, things were happening at a leisurely pace.

Trying to keep a frown from appearing, he walked in further and looked around. The smell of spices was heavy in the air, but they weren't necessarily the kinds of spices he preferred. His nose could pick up the difference between pure, quality ingredients and mixed 'make it all taste okay' spices.

No, this wasn't necessarily good. He could already see room for improvement. But who should he go to in order to introduce himself? "Excuse me," he said mildly, "but could someone in here point me in the direction of the Headwoman?"

The assistant cook that he had approached stopped in her tracks, her expression that of annoyance. Obviously, discipline was something lacking in the kitchens. With that demeanor of a young woman who certainly was feeling her oats and self worth, she propped a dainty hand on her hip, gave a sassy swagger of her head as she spoke. "The Headwoman ain't who you need to talk to.. you'll need to be talking to -me- if you're wanting to work back here."

Her knots showed her rank, but she had failed to see his if he wore any, obviously mistaking him for an older apprentice, or maybe even an up-and-coming drudge. Well, he certainly wasn't the shock of gorgeous that she was expecting to swoop in the door to take on the role of the Head Cook. She was about to go on with what she was saying when her full, pouty lips now took on a look that was quite reminiscent of the wide mouth fish often caught at Hurricane hold. Had she finally realized who she was speaking to?


Then a voice, powerful and grating despite being female, lilted out.. though it was quite obvious the sharpness in tone wasn't necessarily supposed to be toward the person she was responding to. "I'm afraid she's out and about the Weyr under orders of the Weyrwoman. I hope you'll excuse the help; they're in need of a firm hand that I can't always bring down to every part of the Weyr."

When the man would finally swing around, he'd see a.. tired woman.. younger than him by at least 6 turns, but still.. tired. Still, one couldn't mistake the power within the woman as she stood forebodingly up to her inches, being a shade taller than the older man. Arms crossed against her face, and thin lips pressed into an unamused line, it was obvious she had taken witness to the insubordination of the assistant cook. Also, she wore her Weyrwoman's knots, having anticipated his arrival and wanting to be in proper form.

As the man turned to her though, her gaze would soften into one that was more approachable, and for a moment those tired lines would ease as she gave a smile and brought out her hand, clasping the man's large hand in her own wiry one firmly before he got any ideas about doing anything more.. gallant. "Henrik, I assume? You're the only Cook that I asked, for, so I can only assume."

Then, with an act of boldness for one who hardly knew another, she reached out, tugging his knots out from under the rucksack's shoulder straps. "So, you're the guy crazy enough to come to Kharasi Weyr, eh? Well, I admit that you're just in time; the temporary cook we had working for us thought that today would be a good time to not come into work, assuming you'd be here already. The lady we had working before her got married and moved out into the Holds." The look of disapproval on her face told plainly what she thought of that situation.

Not able to help herself, Alesia gave an exasperated sigh and shouted over the man's head at the gawking drudges and assistants; the particularly insubordinate one had managed to mysteriously slip away. "Come on, y'all! We've got two hours! How Farking hard is it to boil some sharding porridge!!?"

Immediately, her hand went to her temple, sighing. "Forgive me. I've had nothing but trouble from this kitchen since Nulana left.."

Stiffening at the young woman's tone, Henrik's mouth set into a flat, disapproving line as she spouted off something arrogant and utterly inane. Didn't she see the knots of rank from his previous position on his shoulder? Or was she not even looking? He certainly noticed hers and knew that he now outranked her, even if his previous placement's knots pegged them as equals. At the very least, that shouldn't have earned him such blatant disrespect.

Before he could say anything in reply - and really, it would almost be more amusing to see what else she would spout off before the reality of the situation became apparent to her - her expression changed to one that made his forehead crease in confusion. What was that look for? Did she finally realize what a fool she'd been?

The sharp voice behind him made him turn immediately, the authority in it quite apparent. The Headwoman? No, not if what she'd just said was correct. His eyes caught the knots of her rank and widened slightly, then fell into a more neutral, polite expression. The idiot behind him could wait. "Weyrwoman, it's an honor meet you. I am indeed Henrik." He held out his hand in greeting and shook hers, privately surprised at the strength in those bony fingers. She looked... younger than he'd expected. Younger than him, at any rate. Obviously she wore her rank with ease in this place or she wouldn't be speaking so casually to a new employee. That was good to know. He couldn't respect weak authority figures, or those who didn't take their duties seriously.

And his duties would obviously be starting right away. He couldn't help the abortive twitch when she took his rank right off of his shoulder. Was this just her, or was this lack of formality a trait of Weyrfolk in general? If the latter, it would be... something unusual to get used to. "It sounds like I'd better get started for today, then, and leave anything more official for another time. If we want the evening meal out on time, at any rate. Which I most certainly do."

His eyes glanced over all the people in the kitchen, most of whom had turned away as soon as the woman's attention and sharp tongue had been turned there way. The idiot from a moment ago was conspicuously absent. His voice held its own bark as he addressed them. "In case any of you didn't catch that, I'm going to be the new Head Cook until I screw something up. Since I don't plan on that happening anytime soon, someone give me a ten-minute tour and tell me where I can find a covering for my clothes."

Then he turned back to the Weyrwoman and gave a short bow. "I've left most of my things near the entrance to the caverns. Should I go back for them now or see to it later?" He would prefer later, but if them being there would cause a problem - or if there was a likelihood of someone rifling through his things - then he wanted to deal with it before he got his hands full of food.

Despite herself, Alesia gave a small chuckle as the new Head cook sank rather naturally into his new position, being keen to keep her giggle low so that none of his newest subordinates could hear her. She liked the man already; the Weyrwoman wasn't sure if she could have dealt with a more docile individual. He, as was most people, was slightly jarred by her lack of formality, but Alesia took it with a grain of salt, though she rather secretly berated herself for slipping like that in front of the newest member to the Weyr staff. Before dragonriding, her job was more based on an understanding of who should respect who, and the fluidity of how they worked together was much more highly prized than the rituals of etiquette that the Weyr seemed so fond of. One could possibly blame it on the fact that she had very much been moved in to rule her own Weyr with only Weyrlinghood and some months of additional training before she was thrust into the seat of power.

As brash as she had been taking his knots away, she now worked daintily at the pocket on her tunic, pulling a slip of cloth out. Unfolding it carefully, she exposed the new, crisp chords that held the Weyr's colors(whichIdon'trememberwhattheyarerightnowbutohwell), grinning broadly as she held them out toward the man. "I hope you don't mind the lack of ceremony; it's been a bit crazy in the kitchen today so we need to put you on duty right away."

"Oh, I noticed them at the door and had a drudge take care of them. You'll be in the Master room in the cook's quarters. I'm sure you can have any of the cooks here to escort you there after your work is done here."

A meek looking young woman walked up, flustered from all the shouting. She had an apron draped over her arm. "I.. I believe this should fit you sir."

"I thought I was the only one who could strike fear into people's hearts around here." Alesia remarked drolly, giving a bit of a grin that made the young apprentice cook flush deeply.

((I can NPC the quiet little cook to show you around if you'd like XD Otherwise I can bring in Ratina. I doubt Alesia properly knows how to use a fork, much less know her way around the kitchen XD ))