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Ithamar and Jilsea
: Pre-search::Search::Ithamar::Floteth::
:Falas Weyr::Healing Den::Opal Moon Weyr

It wasn't long, perhaps two hours later, when Jilsea and her mother began to pack for the day. Jilsea's soft brown skin glistened as a sheen of sweat covered her face and arms. She splashed a bit of water on her skin, enjoying the cooling effects. Another selling day over, she thought as she sat to relax for a few minutes. Which means that I will have to go home, cook and clean, and then clean some more. I don't think my life could be more monotonous if I tried to make it as such. She brushed her mane back into a ponytail, and tied it with a leather cord.

v v v v v

It wasn't long, perhaps two hours later, when Jilsea and her mother began to pack for the day. Jilsea's soft brown skin glistened as a sheen of sweat covered her face and arms. She splashed a bit of water on her skin, enjoying the cooling effects. Another selling day over, she thought as she sat to relax for a few minutes. Which means that I will have to go home, cook and clean, and then clean some more. I don't think my life could be more monotonous if I tried to make it as such. She brushed her mane back into a ponytail, and tied it with a leather cord.

v v v v v

Ithamar smiled. It was finally here. Malcor knew one of the riders, Dairaj, at Opal Moon Weyr, and he'd managed to convince him to get a firelizard egg from the ones there. Today was Jilsea's sixteenth birthing day, but their family had never been big into celebrating stuff like that. Ceavar had participated in festivities with them when he was younger, but now he saw himself as too mature for such foolishness. Ithamar knew that Jilsea would, like their mother, play down the fact that all their friends had marvelous celebrations, while the two of them might have a special dinner, if they were lucky.

Now, as he met his friend, Malcor instructed him, "Don't forget, don't let the sand go cool, keep it by the fire, or it will never hatch. And tell your sister happy birthing day for me." Ithamar thanked his friend, and hurried to the retired soldier's home, so that he wouldn't have to explain to his parents how and why he'd gotten the firelizard. As he knocked on the door, the soldier's drudge opened the door, ushering him in. He went to his friend, speaking rapidly. "Jilsea will be so pleased," he chattered, as he set the extra-large bowl full of hot sand by the fire to keep it warm. He and the soldier began to prepare the house for the small party they had planned for his younger sister. How he was going to convince his mother to let him bring Jilsea out for the early part of the evening, he hadn't the slightest notion,but that was what his friend was good at doing, figuring excuses for him.

The two worked on, and by the time that Jilsea and her mother would have been home from selling fish, they were through. The house glowed with candles, and fresh flowers, brought by the drudges, filled the room. A glorious dinner had been prepared, with all Jilsea's favorite foods, and a chocolate cake, decorated with icing roses added the finishing touches to the small feast. The two men were tired, but they knew that it would be worth it, to see Jilsea's face light up like a candle in the darkness as she viewed the cottage. Ithamar rushed back home, and nearly ran into Ceavar. The tall man of twenty did look like Ithamar in the general hair and eye color, but that was where the similarities ended. Ceavar was only about five foot nine inches, and, though he was like a bull, was not as quick or agile as Ithamar. His face was hard, and, though women liked him, he didn't smile often. He was much like their father, especially in mannerism, though in speech as well. Quick, demanding, no matter what he intended to say, whether requesting, asking, or simply stating the obvious, he seemed to demand attention. He was, to Ithamar, everything that Ithamar wanted to avoid being, and yet, he was their parents' pride and joy.

"Where've you been??" he asked, demanding an immediate answer. Ithamar answered, "around." Ceavar pressed onward. "Did you finish the nets??" Ithamar nodded, indignant. "Of course. You do not think I would go off without finishing my work, do you??" He glared at Ceavar, and tried to pass him, but the man held out his hand, stopping him. "I know you've been somewhere, and I want to know where that is. Because I'm betting you're with some girl." Ceavar raised an eyebrow. "Am I right?? Is my little brother finally getting some backbone?? Along with a few other things??" Ithamar just glared at Ceavar and shoved passed him, the elder laughing as he watched Ithamar enter the house.

Immediately, he noticed Jilsea chopping fresh vegetables, a job she disliked, and his mother cooking at the stove. "Happy birthing day, Jill," he smiled, reaching with his mind for one of the flowers he'd used to decorate the soldier's house. As if pulling it out of thin air, he presented to her with a flourish. "For you, dear sister, on the occasion on sixteen turns." Jilsea laughed, though she was touched at the gesture. Neither parent had so much as said anything to her that day regarding this. Leave it to Ithamar to make things special, she thought wryly. And then watch him get himself in trouble for it. She hadn't much of a doubt that this would happen, and yet, she felt special for a few minutes. Ithamar winked, and brushed his nose with his pinky, their signal that they should talk. She barely nodded, only enough for him to notice, and then resumed her work.

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