This weyr is surprisingly empty, although you know a candidate should be here, filled with cardboard boxes of unpacked supplies and not a human being in sight. Otherwise, it looks like any and every other candidate's weyr, with nothing extravagent and everything carved out of stone. The only thing unpacked is a piece of paper. Although, you do notice now, one thing is alive in here. You smile at the sleeping orange pegflit stallion, laying on the bed, curled up in the blankets. The next moment, he's up, treading air and galloping at you in sudden urgency. You hold your palm out for him to land as you've seen others do, and he settles with his tiny nose in the air. A white message tube is strapped around his back, and you quickly slide the scroll out from inside it. The hide is new; it must have been written less than a few hours ago. With his task completed, the stallion glides back to the bed and proceeds in his catnap while you inspect the note.
You try your hardest to stifle a laugh, carefully replacing the note back on the stallion's back. Tarin the Terror? This could be an interesting meeting!
You make your way outside, and, sure enough, you see a group of "hopefulls" watching a screen, which flashes various pictures of flaking, dry dragon hide. The announcer is drolling on, and you think you spot Tarin in the back. He would be the one propped on his elbow, with a glazed look, not really paying attention to the lecture, wouldn't he? You quietly walk up behind him, and he awakes from his daydreams with a start, sitting straight up and looking wildly around. "Hunh!? Oh, geez, trav', ya scared the wits out of me! Ah, my saviour! Can't listen to lessons when trav's' want to talk, right? Right." he answers for you, standing up and excusing himself. He then leads you as far away from the group as he can get, which just happens to be a ledge where several dragons are sunning themselves. He takes a deep breath. "Alright, we need to make this as long as possible so I can get out of work. Dragon hides. Eck! I've got oil. What's he think I'll do with it, grease pans? Gosh. 'Kay, trav', to the questions!" the boy says, flashing a grin. He finger-brushes his short black hair, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief. You sigh and ask him a few questions. "First off, I'd like to say that I'm -not- terrible! I was extremely fussy and whiny and annoying and all sorts of things when I was younger, but I've grown out of that! My new name should be something like.. "Tarin the Terrific!" or... "Tarin the Tremendous!" Yah, I like that. I mean, Kala is "Kala the Krazy", and she's much wilder than I am. We're alike, you know. "Alright, next question. My weyr? It's all packed up for a reason. I've stood on the sands, and stood.. And stood.. And stood, and I've declared this my last. If I don't get me a dragon, trav', I'm moving out! I'll take Sunspot (that's my pegflit, trav', gotta keep up!) and hit the rode, maybe hatch a whole her of pegflits for him. He's great with the ladies! He's already sired a clutch, you know! Erm, back to the matter at hand, it's all messed up because I won't be there for long. The clutch at Middle Weyr is going to hatch soon, and that will determine whether I leave to go to another weyr, or whether I leave to go to another.. Hmm.." He considers it. "Island.. Yah.. I could gather up a whole bunch of rebels, I could, and we could find ourselves our own little island, and set up a hold, and a weyr, with our own dragons. Yah, that's the ticket!" he laughs, winking at you. "Fun to dream, ain't it, trav'? I can only get a brown, a blue, or a green, anyway. My chances are slim. 21 candidates!" He whistles and glances over his shoulder. "Ah, it appears that weyrling class is over, and so we'll have to put this enchanting conversation off until later. Until next time, trav'..." And with that, he scoots off.
Later.. "Ahlalala! Come on, Janyth, help me out here. Ahlala.. Oh, forget it." You chuckle to yourself at the horrible singing and look at your chart. 'T'rin, rider of bronze Janyth'. You consider it, then step up to the weyr and knock on the door. "Hey there hi there ho there! ..Oh. It's you." You blink in surprise. Tarin impressed a bronze!? "Welp, come on in, trav'. You're probably a better singing partner then that lump of dragon Janyth." The dragon in question warbles a greeting, and T'rin smacks his forehead. "Great. NOW he sings! Figures." Janyth snorts and settles back on his dragon couch. You grin. He's just a hatchling, and already causing trouble. Or, at least to T'rin. "Alright, as you can see, Janyth went and chose me on the sands and ruined all of my plans for running off onto a deserted island. Too bad; it would've been fun." He gives a sly grin as his lifemate croons apologetically.
"Aye, it's alright. You're kewl and you know it." That seems to be all of the reassurance Janyth needs, for he soon curls up in a ball and drifts off to sleep. T'rin sighs. "Y'know, trav', it won't be long before Weyrling classes start. I'm not looking forward to it, either. Welp, maybe I am. Another teach' to annoy. More specific targets. Who knows? It might not be all bad." He grins. "Kala impressed a white. Once she gets out of that depressive state she's in, we'll be the dream team. Yup! No one will be able to stop the havoc we wreak. A boy, a girl. A big semi-rare dragon of high rank, a little rare dragon of low rank. We'll cover all the bases. Although, I'm not going to be pulling any pranks on that Felcia." He winks. "Want to stay on her good side. After all, she /is/ a goldrider. And don't bronzes fly golds? Now, scoot, trav'. See ya." You chuckle and head out. |
