You walk around the Lower Caverns of Seascape Weyr, looking for something to do. You'd already been recruited to help with numbweed, but a helpful weyrbrat had let you slip out unnoticed. You hear a shouting noise coming from one of the empty weyrs and walk over, curious. Inside is a young man with frizzy, dark blond hair glaring at a little, giggling girl with lighter, almost silver hair. "I told you, Reita, my name is F'LIN! Not Flint!" She falls down giggling and that only seems to make him more upset. "Reita! Stop laughing!" he shouts, face turning red. Finally, he kicks near her and she barely manages to escape the blow.
Still trying not to laugh, she stands and scampers to the door. "Brother's in a scary mood!" she calls to you as she leaves. The boy, F'lin, rolls his eyes and sighs, blowing the hair out of his eyes. Finally, he notices you, and turns red again. "Sorry 'bout that. That was my sister, Reita. She's nine and keeps calling me 'Flint.' My name's F'lin, rider of bronze Shelomith, but the way." You nod. "What's yours?" You answer, and neither you nor him think of anything to say for quite awhile. You break the ice by asking why he's here. "Eh? Oh, Reita and I were both born here at Seascape. I finally Impressed little Shelomith! And he's a bronze!" You oooh and he leans against the wall, sighing. "Everyone just KNEW I was gonna get bronze." You laugh and he grins. "Yeah. I'm not exactly bronze-rider material, huh?"
He shifts from one foot to the other. "I'm not a very good host, but I think I can sneak you some meatrolls or klah from the kitchens if you want any." You shake your head and he blinks. "Really? Because I'm hungry, and it'd give me an excuse..." You grin and accept, then he nods and scurries out the room. A few moments later, he returns, juggling a pitcher of klah, a tray of meatrolls, and two bubbly pies. You offer to help but he refuses, determined to set it down by himself.
He fails, and both you and him end up laughing at the floor. This attracts the Headwoman's attention and she steps into the room, peeved. When she sees the mess F'lin somehow managed to make on the floor, she scowls. "Fal--or, F'lin, how on Pern do you manage to make such messes?"
"Sssss...orrrrrrrrrrr...yyyy!! Heee hee... that was a... ha ha ha... lot to carry!" He sits up and wipes a tear from his eye, trying to gain his composure.
"Well, I'm not cleaning it up this time. Go ahead, find a bucket and mop and clean it yourself." She turns and leaves the room, shaking her head. Faline groans, but slowly gets to his feet and grudgingly heads out the door. You offer to help again but he shakes his head.
"It's my fault it fell. I think the klah didn't spill--good, it didn't. Well, you can have some of that while I clean that up. I'm gonna get it once you leave..." He sighs and walks down the hall. You take the moment to examine his weyr. He has the table you're sitting at right now, with the spilled food and pitcher of klah that managed to survive the catastrophe, a dragon couch, flying straps and uniform, and a few odd trinkets. You notice to one side is a ball of yarn, and wonder if he owns a feline, too. F'lin probably doesn't own any flits, as there aren't the tell-tale signs of them, but maybe his sister Reita does. There's only one, small window near his bed, that sprinkles light across the dragon couch, and he has a wooden shelf piled with books and old skins--probably, they aren't his. Upon further examination of the book shelf, you realize his room probably acts as a storage room for himself and his sister, as there are girl things on the shelves.
"Pssst," says a voice from the door. You whirl around and are relieved to see it's only Reita. "Is Falling--or, Flint, or--oops, I mean, F'lin gone?" You nod and she grins. "Why don't you look at my weyr, then? It's not as big as F'lin's. Ya see, he keeps all our stuff, 'cause my weyr's just a closet." She makes a face. "And about being born at Seascape--well, that's not true. He doesn't like to admit, but we were born in a Hold. Never ever ever visit a Hold. They're stinky and crowded and have too many flits all over the place! And you have to work really hard for all your food and people are all grouchy and stuff." She blinks and takes a breath. "Here at the Weyr, it's nice, y'know, 'cause everyone's happy because everyone helps each other!" She grins. "So are ya coming? C'mon, c'mon! Before he comes back!" Smiling, you let her lead you through the halls. It's not that long until you reach a normal-sized door.
"Welcome to my, um, weyr." She waves a hand and it hits the wall, that's how small the weyr is. "Told ya it was like a closet! Oh well, when I get old enough and Impress I'm gonna move into a bigger one for my dragon!" She rolls her eyes. "Not even a white could fit in here, y'know? Oh, and somewhere around here's my cat. I don't think she's here right now, but she gets to stay with me. All her toys are with F'lin, though. F'lin doesn't like her much; he likes dogs and dragons more. Though he never got a firelizard, he's hoping to get a dragon. Well, enough about F'lin! Wanna know about ME?" You nod and she looks about to talk, then stops, confused. "Umm... I think you already know." You laugh and pretend not to. "Well, my name's Reita, and I'm nine Turns old. I have a feline and I'm going to grow up and Impress a dragon! I want a gold. D'you think I'd get a gold?" You nod. "Great. All I need is a searchrider to say that! Uh oh, I think I hear F'lin going back. Quick, you better go back to his weyr!" You nod and pat her head, to which she scowls playfully, and quickly make your departure.
You're only just in time. The moment you resume your position of scanning the shelves, F'lin returns with a bucket and mop. "Sorry 'bout that, some of the green riders--no names shall be named--were givin' me a hard time with it and scolded and stuff. Reita didn't lure you into her weyr, did she?" You shake your head. "Great. She's such a liar, and she talks too much. I don't think there's much more to do, unless you want to watch me clean this up. Oh, WAIT! I can show you Shelomith before I clean up, right? D'ya want to see him?" You nod and he grins, looking jubilant. "Great! Right this way." He sets down the cleaning utensils and opens a door, walking to the dragon couch. On it is a fat bronze weyrling, stirring as if to wake up. F'lin pauses, eyes unfocused in the way dragonriders do to talk to their dragons. "Here, he's up!" F'lin reaches for some oil and sits down, poised for action. You chuckle as the weyrling opens its eyes, raises its head, and immediatly asks to be oiled. F'lin obliges, rubbing hard.
Who is this? Have they come to look at me? The bronze talks so loud even you can hear him!
"Yes, Shelly, they've come to see you. And only you, dear heart."
My name is Shelomith and that is... my... itchy... spoooooooot... He sighs in obvious relief, nuzzling his rider. May we eat now, F'lin?
He grins. "Sure, after I clean up."
Does cleaning up take much time? Shelomith asks wistfully.
"Of course not, just a few things to mop up. Hey," he turns to you, "have fun exploring Seascape." He leads Shelomith into the other room, cleaning up the mess he made, and you helpfully carry the empty klah pitcher back to the kitchens.
