A New World

by scurvylemon

A world nearing the end of a long interval, and a candidate shocking everyone. Two riders, and a new Weyr. Work in Progress, comments very much appreciated.

AN;

Typical disclaimer; I do not own DroP, any of the ideas involved in said series, etc…

I do, however, own K'nev, M'kar, etc… Touch them, and feel my wrath.

Comments and reviews are much loved. I wrote this segment in about 3 days, and really would like feedback on it – anything that my beta reader may have missed.

Other than that – enjoy! Another chapter may be up eventually, after all my IB coursework is up.

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The Queen finally settled around her clutch, wedge-shaped muzzle nudging one egg in particular. She adjusted the position of the egg and glared balefully at the Weyrfolk exiting the cavern, off to celebrate the completion of her clutching.

Why were they here, mine? She asked her rider, tinges of red entering her slowly spiralling eyes. A tinge of worry entered her mind voice as she turned her head to regard the one she addressed as 'mine'.

"To celebrate your clutching, Dragon mine," said a voice, the Queen's rider, as she made her way across the hot sands. Curse these thin-soled sandals! But alas, it was far too hot to wear boots. Kiessa grinned as she stood next to her dragon, one hand on the golden hide. She looked over the clutch, dark eyes sweeping over the eggs. "31 eggs, Zanythmine. Fantastic for your first clutch." The woman was beaming with pride at her young queen's accomplishment, positively glowing with it. "Any chance of a…?" She trailed off as she frowned, glancing over the eggs again. Wasn't the queen egg supposed to be, well, golden?

Zanyth rumbled an assent, brushing sand from one egg that lay by the curve of her stomach. Here. My daughter. A true queen. She nudged the golden egg away from her, into plain view; the eggshell was unremarkable in every way. No matter. The shells would colour soon and then – then everyone would see how wonderful she was, fantastic enough to clutch a golden daughter – and the second queen for this Weyr.

K'nev leant forwards on his brown, clutching one strap as the wind whipped at his eyes. He stared down at the forest below, feeling intense anticipation. Thread had been gone for a long, long time now – indeed, it was not even a distant memory, but a story passed down from grandsire to the grandchildren, a mere horror story to frighten children and warn the dragonriders to remain vigilant. So the forest below, instead of instilling dread for the lush greenery that would help the deadly Threads propagate, held promise for him. Miniath said he had felt something down there; the spark that made an otherwise normal person suitable for Candidacy and –maybe- Impression!

The brown banked to the left suddenly, throwing K'nev off balance. Down there, Mine. I don't know who, or … even how many. A strong presence, Mine. Very strong. The brown soared over the verdant greenery, bugling a greeting as he sighted a clearing suitable for landing and a small Holding.

"Is this it?" The rider yelled out, clutching the riding straps as the brown backwinged to a difficult landing. Having seen the dragon in the distance, several holders had come out to ogle – as well as a child or two standing in awe.

No. There is one here, but the presence is further east. This is the only place I can land without injury. The brown dropped to the ground with some strain, and bent one shoulder for K'nev to dismount.

The rider dropped from his dragon with ease, turning to regard the small group of holders with interest. "Good day!" he called out, striding towards whom he assumed was the leader of the little settlement. Behind him, Miniath was peering at those assembled, eyes whirling slowly in placid emotion. Perhaps he could Search a few here. The eggs must have a large selection.

K'nev took another few steps forwards, brows furrowing as he glanced at the holders. They were still hanging back, fear evident in their eyes. Was it Miniath? He glanced back over his shoulder at the brown and shrugged. Turning back to the assembled, he let a welcoming smile settle itself on his face and grinned when one holder walked towards him.

"Good day!" K'nev called out again, shaking the Holder's hand. "I'm K'nev, of brown Miniath. I come here on Search – Golden Zanyth has laid a clutch of 31 eggs up at Cove Weyr. Including," here he paused, laughing as so many of the faces lit up. And who wouldn't be excited at the chance to Impress? Clutches were so infrequent these days, and dragon numbers were fairly low. As such, Impression was a fantastic chance. He continued, nodding, "Including a gold egg." At that, he could swear he could hear gasps. Gasps! Proof this hold hadn't been searched before.

The holder clasped K'nev's hand warmly, inclining his head. None of the earlier recalcitrance showed, and he seemed almost welcoming. "Well, welcome to the hold. I am Holder Jiriom. You are free to Search here, as you wish." He paused for a moment, glancing over those gathered, "There are a few out in the forests, too. We will call them in." At a gesture, a child went running off. Not too much longer, a bell pealed out in several sharp, successive tones.

"Thank you, Holder Jiriom," Ask him about that source I felt. Ask him! K'nev grinned, mid-sentence, and broke off. He glanced back at Miniath and nodded, "Miniath wishes me to ask you about something he felt. Not too far from here, towards the east." A sweep of his arm indicated the direction he meant.

"There is nothing there!" The holder proclaimed brashly, almost too quickly. He cast a glance to the east and a fleeting grimace crossed his face. "Nothing. Your… Miniath must be mistaken."

Never, K'nev thought, but nodded agreeably. We will look later, Miniath. Do not worry, he mentally remarked to the brown. "Show me the possible Candidates." K'nev glanced at Miniath, gesturing the brown to come forwards. He brushed back shaggy brown hair with one hand; a faint smile curving his lips as the dragon ponderously rose to his claws and moved towards him. "We have some Searching to do."

The sun dipped below the canopy of the trees, a few last glimmering rays fading away into obscurity. Night fell fast, here. A few stars were already emerging, and the sky was deepening into deep blue.

The day's Searching had gone well, and quite a few possible candidates had been found – as well as a few Gold hopefuls. K'nev grinned as he leant against Miniath, stroking the immense brown shoulder. "You did well today, Min. Kiessa will be pleased, I hope. If the other Search riders have done as well, the clutch will have a difficult selection!" He laughed, stretching out to scratch an eye ridge.

Miniath rumbled contentedly, shifting in the wallow he had excavated earlier. I always do well. Do you know how many gold riders I've Searched? Anyway, he rumbled, settling himself deeper and subjecting himself to K'nev's ministrations, There is still that possible candidate, to the East. What are you going to do about it?

K'nev paused for a moment, and then sank to the ground at Miniath's side. The brown curled around him and K'nev smiled contentedly, "The Candidates won't be ready 'til tomorrow morning, and hopefully we can get them all on you. After the celebratory feast, I may do some exploration. You know, have a look around, gather some fruit perhaps. Maybe that'll lead me east. It wasn't too far, no?"

Miniath rumbled his amusement, nudging K'nev. Well planned, Mine. If you find this person – and I hope you do – we can take him or her to the Weyr tonight. The holder was plainly unhappy you mentioned it. Be careful, mine.

"I always am, Miniath. Don't worry about me. Plus, he may be too… inebriated tonight to plan anything." K'nev grinned mischievously and stretched out, getting slowly to his feet. "Do me a favour and mind speak Telligreth. Ask him to tell I'ven we'll need another few dragons here tomorrow morning. To help transport."

What are you planning, K'nev? A long pause, then I've done so. Telligreth says I'ven wonders how many you have searched – and well done.

"Planning, me?" K'nev grinned impishly and brushed down his clothing, shaking his head. "What makes you think I'm up to anything?" He turned and began to walk away, calling back over his shoulder, "I've a feast to enjoy."

The dragon rider entered the large building that suited as a gather hall of sorts, pausing at the entrance. Somehow, in a matter of hours, it had been bedecked with flowers and swept down, and tables set out. And of course, a large dancing square in the middle and several musicians on their own stage. As he watched the gradually commencing revelry, he smirked. There were quite a few more people in this holding than he had suspected; somehow, a few hundred people had turned up out of the woodwork. As such, the 8 hopefuls he had gathered did not seem so many. He could see one of the girls he felt destined for a green, in a corner ensconced with another young man. A frown crossed his face at that, and then he shrugged. Let them have their time together.

All of a sudden, in what seemed a cloud of flowery fragrance and skirts, a young woman was standing before him, smiling coquettishly. She stared up at him with big brown eyes, and one hand was carelessly twining a brown curl around one finger. "I'm Lyara," she proclaimed, then blushed deeply. She ducked her head, glancing at the ground for a long moment, before continuing; "But of course you already knew that. I'm one of the girls you searched?"

"Of course I remember you, Lyara," K'nev started, looking over the girl with a grin. Where had the bedraggled, dirty girl gone? She was easily ten turns his junior, but certainly a woman. "Are you looking forwards to tomorrow?" As he said that, he offered her his arm and the pair moved off together, towards the table where most of the potentials, unerringly, had congregated.

"Very much so!" Lyara exclaimed, a smile brightening her tanned face. "I've never seen a dragon before, the closest thing I have to one is my Gren." She giggled somewhat nervously, then took a seat at the table with her fellow potentials as the pair arrived.

He nodded, then smiled a greeting at the others. "Evening," time to remember their names! This could be a challenge. He wouldn't need to recall, perhaps he could get around it… With a grin, he glanced at Lyara, What on earth is a Gren? He thought, then shrugged and took a seat. The glass before him was suddenly filled with wine and he took a sip, making appreciative noises. He stared at the glass for a long moment then set it down, looking at the seven potentials arrayed around him – that one girl was still in the corner with her young man – and smiled disarmingly.

"Now that we're here," he started, looking each one of them down. Miniath had said that the blonde one might Impress bronze, if he was lucky. "Do you have any questions about tomorrow, and then on? I trust you have all packed your things. A few other dragons will be arriving early tomorrow, and we will be leaving quite early. If you thought Miniath was big, wait until you see Kastineth. He's a fellow 'rider in my wing, and his bronze is enormous." He grinned at their shocked faces – if they thought Miniath was enormous, Kastineth would be one hell of a surprise.

One shy-looking girl made a move to speak, lips parting slightly. She raised one pale hand and brushed the dark hair back from her face. As K'nev nodded to her, she began, "What happens if we don't Impress?"

K'nev smiled softly, taking a sip of the wine. Decent enough, he supposed. Not their best, though. Oh dear, what was the girl's name… Barelli! "Good question, Barelli. A few things can happen. You can come home –" Not a satisfactory result, judging by some of the expressions, "Or you can stay at the Weyr. Stay on as one of the Weyrfolk, or remain for another clutch. We try to cling onto those suitable for dragons," he commented with a cheeky grin, placing the glass back down on the table. "Occasionally we'll send the potential candidates on to another Weyr with a clutch on the sands, or a pregnant Queen. We like to share."

Another candidate butted in as he ended, a lanky young man with muscle evident of hard labour. This was the one predicted bronze by Miniath. "And what if we do Impress? What happens then?"

K'nev nodded to the potential, leaning forwards. "Tyneot, right?" As the young man nodded, he continued. "Questions like these will be answered at the Weyr, but I can give you a brief summary. If you Impress – If! – then Weyrling training will begin. You'll have some chores, but most of your time will be spent in lessons and caring for your dragonet. Any time other than that is your own." He laughed at that comment, remembering just how much 'free' time he had during his own training. "Your dragon will grow so rapidly overnight, it'll seem like he's gained a hand overnight. He'll be either sleeping or eating most of the time. Or demanding to be bathed and oiled." He smiled fondly, slipping into nostalgia. Miniath certainly had been a handful.

Mine, M'kar and Kastineth are coming now. They didn't mention why – only something about 'not letting you have all the fun'.

K'nev laughed and got to his feet, beckoning to the candidates. That sounds like M'kar. Tell them where to land, I'll bring out the candidates to introduce them. "Another rider is coming, a friend of mine. That bronze I told you earlier about. Come, I'll take you to meet him." As the candidates rose, Lyara came to take his arm, looking up at him with almost glowing eyes. She grinned broadly as the group swept from the room. This may actually help us, Miniath. Have you apprised them of the situation?

Kastineth felt the same source as I, shockingly enough. His rider wants to know why we haven't found that person yet.

Tell him I will explain later, all right? K'nev swept open the door then stood just outside the entrance, at the very edge of the deforested area. "Look up, and you may see hints of him." As one, the seven heads swung upwards and for a few long moments, nothing was seen. Then, light reflected from the candles onto immense bronze hide, and a few gasps were uttered.

Kastineth dropped to the ground near enough to Miniath to see the disparity in size. While Miniath was inordinately large for a brown, almost the size of an average bronze, Kastineth dwarfed him. Reputed the largest bronze on the planet, he was one big lump of dragon.

K'nev stepped forwards from the shelter of the trees towards the bronze, and this new rider. As he glanced up, M'kar seemingly dropped from the dragon's back, landing lightly. "M'kar!" he exclaimed, shaking his head as the bronzerider rolled on impact with the ground, and got to his feet. "You're going to break something, doing that." He glanced at Kastineth, "And you let him do that!"

M'kar laughed as he got to his feet, brushing himself off. He plucked an errant leaf that had gotten entangled with his furiously curly black hair, peering at K'nev with brilliantly green eyes. "Oh come on, I haven't been injured in turns!"

K'nev snorted, shaking his head. "You sprained your ankle not… 12 sevendays ago, no? Careless man." He laughed and swept the man up in a ferocious hug, then just as suddenly released him. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'ven told me about all the potential Candidates you had snagged," he glanced to the huddle of candidates in the shelter of the trees, and laughed. "I just couldn't leave you here, alone with all these new people. Plus, I heard about this feast." A mischievous twinkle in his eye, he turned from K'nev to the gaggle of young people. "Hello there!" he called out, glancing to K'nev. "Shy bunch, no?"

"They're just scared of Kastineth. I may have, earlier, told them some horror stories about you…" K'nev grinned and dodged as M'kar playfully tried to tackle him. "Hey! I didn't tell them about that one time you and that green rider – what was her name… Alessia? – got stuck and – "

This time, M'kar's tackle connected and the pair went flying to the ground. M'kar pinned the brown rider down, glaring into his eyes with a mock fury. "Promise to behave, or I won't let you up." He had K'nev pinned down, wrists and ankles.

K'nev glanced behind at the candidates, who were standing there with very odd expressions. No surprises, really, considering they had seen a bronze rider – apparently – fall from his dragon, greet them, and abruptly tackle K'nev in a rather hostile manner. What on earth was going on?

"You're confusing the candidates," K'nev murmured, staring up into those bright green eyes. "After all, it does look like one rider just attacked another." He fought to hide a smile, canting his head to one side.

"I don't care," M'kar whispered in retort, leaning a bit back on his haunches. "You're pinned here until you promise. Stop trying to wriggle out of it."

K'nev pouted and tossed his head to the side. Suddenly, he writhed furiously and managed to toss M'kar from him, rolling to the side. He jumped up to his feet and grinned wickedly, backing up slowly.

M'kar was tossed violently from K'nev and rolled until he came up against Kastineth. The bronze looked down at him in worry, until the bronzerider shook his head. "I'm fine. Now," he grinned, getting slowly to his feet. He remained in a crouch, glaring at K'nev. "He's going to get it." He rushed at K'nev and the pair scrapped, until M'kar managed to trip K'nev and lay him flat out on his stomach. One arm pulled back in a hold, M'kar leant down until his mouth was just by K'nev's ear. "Now, promise, you."

"Alright, alright!" K'nev struggled for a long moment, then relaxed and nodded. "I promise to be a good boy." He glanced at Miniath, glowering. Thanks for helping me.

You were play fighting. I saw no reason to intervene.

M'kar nodded, leaning forwards to whisper again, "That's good. I'd hate to have to punish you." He paused for a long moment, then gave K'nev's ear an admonitory nip. "Behave." He got to his feet ponderously, then brushed himself off quickly. Extending one hand, he helped K'nev to his feet, and plucked some stray leaves from the brown rider's shaggy dark hair.

K'nev mock growled, then glanced to the Candidates. Unsurprisingly, they were all wide-eyed and rather pale. As well as very, very shocked. "Everyone, this is M'kar. Rider of bronze Kastineth, and a fellow 'rider in my wing. M'kar, this is… everyone." He stepped towards the candidates, to introduce them individually. M'kar followed, with his typically charming smile turned on.

"This is Lyara," he stopped in front of the petite young woman with the fantastically curly brown hair.

The candidate grinned and curtseyed to M'kar, murmuring a quiet "Pleased to meet you."

"Barelli," the tall girl, the finding of whom Miniath was quite pleased with. "Tyneot," the lanky muscled young man, Miniath was sure he would Impress bronze. "Valeron," the one who described himself as a flirt, and the most attractive man Searched, as well as the oldest at 20 turns.

"Pollena," the young woman with whom K'nev couldn't find anything to comment on, a fairly unremarkable woman.

"Cavidan, and Cavilon," the twins, both with shockingly pale blonde hair and tanned skin. Identical, down to the last freckle on their little noses.

"There is another candidate," K'nev admitted, grimacing. "However she's inside, and is a bit… busy." He trailed off, then grinned. "I'll show her to you – her name's Jallira and she perfectly fits a green."

M'kar laughed at that comment while the candidates just looked puzzled. The typical stereotype for a green was the flighty, flirtatious, and highly over-amorous cliché. The same could be said of their riders – although quite a few tried their best to defy said stereotype. "Well, well met to all of you," he inclined his head to K'nev, "Shall we all go inside – " he paused, glancing at his bronze, "Oh, I almost forgot. This is my bronze, Kastineth. He is not a sharp Searcher, but one hell of a chaser." Another reference that eluded the candidates, and he merely laughed.

As the candidates trickled away to file into the gather hall, M'kar paused K'nev with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait a moment," he murmured, watching the retreating candidates.

K'nev nodded and stopped, drawing the rider into the shadows under a tree. He too waited 'til the potentials had left, then began, "Kastineth –" however, was interrupted.

"What was this about some… candidate or source or something? Kastineth told me he felt something, and for him to detect a potential candidate – why haven't you gone to find this person?" M'kar demanded, thumbs hooking onto his belt as he glowered at K'nev.

K'nev sighed as M'kar interrupted him, then nodded. "If you would let me talk, I would tell you." He paused for a long moment, in which the bronzerider shot many furiously filthy glares at him. A grin split his stern face, then he just as abruptly sobered. "I can't tell you anything – because I don't know anything. Miniath felt this person, a shockingly strong person but couldn't go directly to them, because of the trees. Then, when I enquired of Holder Jiriom about what was out East, he insisted that Miniath had been mistaken. I pressed him earlier, and he repeated there was nothing there, save wilderness and felines." He paused for a long moment, glancing up into M'kar's bright eyes. "I don't believe one jot of it."

M'kar nodded slowly, seriously. "Do you have any sort of plan? I mean, it's evident that Jiriom is trying to hide something. I don't know what, or why, but there is something there. Is that why you wanted another few dragons? We two could easily take the eight candidates."

K'nev glanced beyond M'kar, at the entrance to the hall. Had he seen a shadow there? He desperately hoped not, but continued in an even lower tone. "I wanted to get Jiriom so drunk, he won't try to go out there tonight. But now you're here, you can distract him for me, can't you? And even if I did find someone, I would have immediately betweened him – or her – straight to the Weyr."

"No, K'nev. Didn't you think that Jiriom would send someone off to wherever this person is? Or perhaps they even have a guard? You need to think things through. Both of us should go. Shards, we should even summon some more 'riders!"

"They wouldn't attack a 'rider, would they?" K'nev looked very shocked and taken aback. He bit at his lower lip, then shook his head, staring at the ground. "I suppose I didn't really think about it. I thought I would just sneak in and get this person. Look, we need to try to do this tonight. We have no other legitimate reason to stay any longer – the hold is tiny, and I've been over everyone at least once."

M'kar sighed and leant against the tree under which they were hidden, shaking his head. "Why do you always get into these kinds of situations, K'nev? Look, fine. Tonight, we'll go. Once everyone's asleep. Kastineth will keep an eye on everyone here, and if need be, block people from leaving. They're hardly going to rebel against something his size, now are they?"

K'nev nodded and stared at the ground, clearly admonished. "I know, I know. It's just – well, Kastineth felt this person too, didn't he? Come on, that person must be ridiculously powerful for Kastineth to feel him. Miniath has been insisting I go find this person, and the location's apparently not even a candlemark away. I know you're getting old and less fit, but even for you – "

M'kar's head shot up and he fixed K'nev with a sort of diabolically mischievous look, a grin curving those sensuous lips. "Old? Old?! I'm only two turns older than you! I'm certainly a lot wiser, though." He abruptly became more seriously, biting at his lower lip, "I agree, this needs to be done. And I didn't mean to place any blame on you. Now come, the candidates are probably wondering where on earth we are." He pushed himself from the tree and took a few steps past K'nev, towards the hall.

K'nev's hand shot out and grabbed M'kar's wrist, his face shadowed and a mystery. "Is that an apology?" his voice almost purred, only hints of those dark eyes visible. "It certainly sounded like one." He drew M'kar towards him, a smile crossing his lips. He pulled M'kar to him, grabbing him fiercely and leant forwards to brush his lips against M'kar's –

"K'nev!" Lara's voice rang out from the entrance, first once, then twice. Then, "Come in! Jiriom wants to say a few words in your honour."

K'nev drew back, regret crossing his face as he called out, "Just talking to M'kar. We're coming." He sighed, ducking his head as he felt M'kar's gaze burn through him. "I – " he started, then broke off. No, now was not the right time. He offered a small smile to M'kar, and a soft, "I'm sorry," before stepping from the darkness into the warm light and distraction. No, he had to focus on what must be done. As he stepped through the threshold into the hall, he was only faintly aware of the bronze rider a few feet behind him.

K'nev leant back in his chair, one arm thrown over the back of his chair. He glanced about the room through narrowed eyes, scrutinising. There were only a few left, of which Jiriom was one. He had sent the candidates off candlemarks ago – Jallira had finally decided to rejoin them – and had danced for what seemed a ridiculous amount of time. M'kar was seated next to him, affecting to be rather drunk and slumped into a stupor. He would even affect a snore, from time to time.

"Brown rider," a voice suddenly cut through K'nev's reverie and he glanced up, to look into Jiriom's rather red face. "We are all off to our beds, now. I presume my mate showed you your rooms?"

K'nev nodded slowly, and got to his feet rather ponderously. "She did, thank you. We will go to them, after tending to our dragons." He noted the man's sudden paling as K'nev mentioned the dragons, and almost snorted. "Good night, holder Jiriom."

"And you," the holder murmured, glancing down at M'kar with what seemed to be scorn written all over his face. He turned his back and walked off rather unsteadily, holding onto his mate for support.

K'nev sighed and sank into his seat, cradling his head in his hands. It was much later than he liked, and he had had far too much of the wine to drink. Granted, Jiriom had brought out his good supply and it was rather palatable, but still, any substantial amount would get one drunk. He sighed a long exhalation and leant back, arms crossed on his chest. He could relax for maybe a candlemark, give the holders time enough to sleep.

K'nevmine, get up. You have to get going now.

A voice awoke K'nev with a start and he jumped forwards, eyes shooting open. His hair fell over his eyes and he brushed it away with an aggrieved groan, looking over at M'kar. The bronzerider was clearly awake, and –it seemed – had been watching him. Odd. K'nev smiled faintly and got to his feet, extending a hand to help up M'kar. "Ready to go?" he asked softly, nodding towards a few holders sprawled here and there, fast asleep. He purloined a few meatrolls and stuffed them into a pouch, before glancing back at M'kar.

The bronzerider nodded curtly and followed K'nev's example with a bit of a grin. Snack time, obviously. He stuffed one of the flaky rolls into his mouth, and with a rather full maw tried to respond. He settled for a nod and crept from the hall, out into the fresh cool air.

K'nev followed, looking around to check if any of the slumbering had noticed their departure. Of course, he was acting a little suspicious, but subterfuge had never been his strong point. He slipped from the entrance into the darkness, looking around for M'kar. The bronzerider had been wearing his typically dark outfit, and as such, was fairly difficult to see. Luckily, there was a nearly full moon this night, and he could see faint outlines of objects.

"Let's go," K'nev remarked and set off, towards the east. He walked a few steps ahead of M'kar, avoiding tree roots and out hanging branches with some care. Thoughts rushed through his head as the pair walked – foremost, what on earth was this source, this presence that Miniath had sensed so strongly, that even Kastineth had detected? And would that presence be amicable to a search? So much of their plan relied on the subject being friendly to escape, being willing to leave the safety of their possible home and going to the Weyr. But of course, who wouldn't want to go to their Weyr? He allowed himself a little smirk for his utmost arrogance and proceeded for perhaps a candlemark, thoughts running in the same fashion.

Suddenly, noise jolted K'nev into attention and he halted suddenly, falling into a crouch. He turned his head and hissed, "stop!" to M'kar, who likewise fell into a low stance. Hand signals learnt in weyrlinghood told the other to move closer, and he glanced at M'kar. The pair crept forwards slowly, quietly, until they had reached the very edge of the tree line, concealed only by a few bushes.

Ahead of them was what looked to be a hastily constructed tower, made out of wood and none too well made. A pair of guards was standing in front of the only door, hands on belt knives. They were wary, and had obviously been warned – they were unnaturally alert and tense.

What seemed a veritable fair of flits were swooping and diving around the roof of the tower, pausing occasionally to drop in the window and spend a few moments. They were all commanded by one queen perched imperiously on the roof, squawking raucously and commandeering her troops.

K'nev turned to M'kar, frowning. "I didn't expect guards," he whispered, brows furrowing as he placed one hand on the ground to steady himself. Dark eyes intent, he turned over his shoulder to glance at the 'tower' of sorts. "I suppose our wild 'charge' is out of the picture, then."

M'kar halted just behind K'nev, nodding slowly. "I suppose so. We could take those guards, easily. But there may be more inside – we have no way of knowing. I – oh, I don't know. A part of me wants to say give up. But the strength of this person…" He sighed and shook his head, staring at the leaf litter on the ground. A slow smile crossed his face and he looked up at K'nev, "Do you want to try a little scare tactic?"

K'nev shook his head as M'kar spoke, looking past him into the clearing illuminated by moonlight. "We can't give up, M'kar. Miniath wouldn't let me sleep, ever. And look," here he paused, watching the bronzerider stare at the ground. "Just think, if it's a woman. Pern needs a strong goldrider." As to the last comment, K'nev almost burst into laughter at the thought. "Maybe. First, we need to scout out the situation. There may be another entrance, or shard it, more guards." He got slowly to his feet and nodded, "Go that way," a swift gesture indicated the direction he meant, "And circle around. I'll go the other way, and hopefully we'll meet on the other side." He paused for a long moment before walking off, "Good luck."

As K'nev paced through the brush, his eyes were intent on the tower – that pinnacle of the unknown. As Thread had been gone from the planet for so long – was merely a horror story to frighten the children with – buildings were often built near forest, of somewhat hazardous material. He shook his head slowly as he paused by a tree, to observe. He could see very little that he hadn't before; the two guards, the tower, and the scores of firelizards. Those could be a problem; there was little possibility they all belong to the inhabitant or the guards, and if threatened could go back to warn the hold. Then they would be in trouble. He cursed, wishing they had taken the potential candidates back to Cove Weyr, before starting off on this foolish mission.

As he stood there, observing, a knife was suddenly against his bared throat and a hand across his mouth. He was slammed up against the tree and the sharp knife-edge pressed firm enough against his throat to cause a line of blood to well up. "Don't try to scream, or struggle, dragon rider. I'll slit your throat," the strange voice growled, into his ears. The knife was removed from his throat and his mouth briefly unblocked, only to be replaced by the gag. Deft hands suddenly tied his together as the dragonrider stood there, coldly calculating. He was flipped around so he leant against the tree, and could see his attacker. An idea came to his head, and he mentally reprimanded himself for not thinking of it earlier.

Miniath, please remain calm. Contact Kastineth and ask him to tell M'kar I was tracked. He sent to Miniath, hoping nothing would give him away. Obviously this man knew little about dragon riders.

I spoke to M'kar. He said to keep calm, he is coming. He also added that he is always rescuing you.

It wasn't heartening. The unknown attacker was large, physically enormous and draped in black. He couldn't even see any facial features. He saw the knives on his belt and almost shook his head. His only hope was that this was the only assailant, and M'kar was unscathed.

"Where's your friend?" the unknown assailant hissed, bringing the belt knife back up to menace K'nev's throat. He slowly removed the gag, the knife a sole reminder of what would happen, should he scream.

K'nev shook his head, managing to look blank through the fear. "He's not with me. He's back at the hold, sleeping off the wine." He held his breath, hoping the attacker would believe it. The less he suspected of another rider, perhaps the less wary he would be.

"That's good, I suppose," the masked man said as he took a step forwards, coming even closer to the dragon rider. "Less of you to kill." As he grinned maliciously, another belt knife appeared, poised to stab. K'nev took a deep breath, eyes shut as he pleaded desperately. Come on M'kar, come on… as the knife pressed harder against his throat, he bit his lip.

Suddenly, a resounding thwack echoed through the space as the assailant dropped, felled by a rather handy rock. The belt knife fell from K'nev's throat as his assailant collapsed, barely breathing.

M'kar stood there, a saviour in the dark. He was grinning triumphantly, bouncing another large stone in his hand. "Told you I was coming, didn't I?" he demanded, stalking forwards to slash the bindings from K'nev's hands. "You have got to stop getting into trouble like this. How many times have I rescued you?"

K'nev tried to get his trembling under control, grinning so broadly it seemed the top of his head would fall off. "Too many times to count, it seems. Remember those felines?" He paused a moment to wipe away some of the blood trickling down his neck. That would leave an awkward scar, no? "Come on. Let's get these sharding people. Call Kastineth, would you?"

"He's coming. He's none too happy at being woken, but he understands the situation. Miniath is coming too?" M'kar ripped a long strip from his shirt and wound it gently around the wound, soaking up the blood. "Another good shirt, ruined."

"Quiet, you. Miniath is coming too, and he is just furious." He glanced down at the prone body and nudged it with his foot, then shrugged. "This one will be dead in the morning. Leave him."

Barely moments after he had finished speaking, an ear splitting roar almost tore the sky apart. Two dragons filled the sky, roaring and bellowing loud enough it seemed they could be heard across the planet. Their rage was almost palpable as they made passes at the guards that were fleeing from the tiny clearing, following them on wing just above the treetops. They wouldn't kill them, of course not. They would just… scare the guards a little.

Miniath suddenly swerved off and glided to the spot in which M'kar and K'nev were standing. Hovering above, he relayed, Mine tripped across a log and broke something. Are you going now?

K'nev nodded quickly and waved an arm. Thank you, Miniath. Go back to the hold, but be ready. We may have to take this person to the Weyr quickly. Do me a favour and get rid of the flits, would you? He strode from the trees into the clearing, looking at the tower. The hasty construction showed in the fact that the roof had blown off and was now lying some distance away, as well as almost an entire side of it. He could see directly into the tower – it was a mess of wood, with no discernable life form inside.

The firelizards disappeared with an almighty cheep, save for five who were diving and circling around one particularly large pile of rubble. "M'kar," the brown rider called, nodding to the pile. "I think that's where we'll find this elusive person."

M'kar paled, visibly shocked. The pile of rubble was where presumably the tower room had been, and was quite substantial. How someone could survive that was shocking… He shook his head, and the two ran forwards, trying to scale the remnants of the tower. Shards, if they had gone to all this effort and the person was dead…

K'nev tried to put that thought from his head as he finally reached the top, grunting as he heaved himself through a hole in the floor. He stopped to stare at the pile of rubble, assessing it. There was a small hole in the side, and through it – he swore he could see something. A person lying there? Oh, he certainly hoped so. He and M'kar almost attacked the pile, removing the planks and shards of wood that formed the main part of it. As they removed it, piece by piece, they could hear no sign of a person still under there – no noise, except the fire firelizards creeling piteously. They bent to their work until they could see a body, covered by a few pieces of wood. K'nev glanced up at M'kar, that look clearly conveying all of his worry. They removed the last few pieces then knelt next to the young woman, lying prone on the unstable ground.

"She's not injured, not that I can see," K'nev commented, frowning as he looked over her. She was breathing, that was evident, and her… her eyelids were fluttering. "She's conscious, too," he remarked with a little bit of a smirk.

The five flits – a gold, a bronze, two greens and a blue – dove onto the person, exclaiming their joy in a variety of noises. They clung onto her ragged clothing, rubbing their heads against her cheek.

The woman's eyes shot open the moment she felt the firelizards on her, taking a sudden deep inhalation of breath. She saw the two riders and swore vehemently, scuttling backwards rapidly. The five flits were arrayed all over her, almost protecting her. The golden queen was the most vociferous, standing on the woman's head with her wings spread and hissing. Their eyes were all whirling rapidly red, staring balefully at the 'riders.

"Shards," K'nev muttered, staring at the woman. She was fairly young, perhaps in her early twenties, but filthy and raggedly clothed. Her hair was long but matted, and a fine face covered in a thin veil of dirt. Her eyes were staggering though – a brilliant shade of blue K'nev was astounded by. "I am K'nev, rider of brown Miniath, and this," he gestured at M'kar, "is M'kar, of bronze Kastineth. We are here to…" he paused, to laugh self-deprecatingly. "To save you."

The woman's eyes lit up, almost, in shock. She was pressed against the sole remaining wall, her hands spread wide and her face pale. "No," she murmured, shaking her head. "Dragonriders?" she queried, head canting to the side. "You mean those dragons – you ride them?"

K'nev nodded slowly, "Yes, we ride them. We're partners with them." He stepped forwards to offer a hand up, which she took. "Who are you?" he asked rather bluntly as he glanced at the edge of the tower, and the dizzying drop down. They clearly had not thought about how to get down – that would be a pain. Pity Miniath was too large to fit in the clearing. "Do you think you can get down?"

The woman stepped to the edge of the tower and looked down. She gulped and her hands balled into fists as she glanced up at first K'nev, then M'kar. "I'm Jiriall, the holder's daughter. I can probably get down…" she looked at them both, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, save me?"

K'nev almost swore at her last comment, biting at his lower lip. "This will be complicated," he murmured, glancing back at M'kar. The bronzerider was investigating the rest of the rubble, and indiscriminately tossing bits of wood off the side. "You see, we are dragonriders. We're on Search – that is, finding possible Candidates for Impression. The gold at our Weyr – Cove Weyr, that is – laid 31 eggs, and we need Candidates." Here he paused, to take a deep breath, "My Miniath said you were a ridiculously strong candidate, and insisted I had to rescue you." A pause as he thought for a long moment – "You're Jiriom's daughter? He insisted there was nothing here."

The woman had a curious look on her face as she nodded. "Yes, he would do that, wouldn't he? I'm somewhat of an illegitimate daughter, so he tries to hide me." She grimaced, and then smiled faintly, "I know. Something told me that before – he introduced himself as Miniath. Would that be your dragon?"

Such a glib admission shocked K'nev and his eyes widened. "You could hear Miniath?" he demanded, then relayed to Miniath – Why didn't you tell me she could hear you?

"Yes." Her tone of voice clearly conveyed the surprise she felt at being asked such a question, "Can't everyone?"

M'kar was the first to answer; the two riders had been standing there, looking quite shocked. "No, not everyone can. Riders can usually only talk to their own dragons – rarely will a dragon talk to someone not their rider." He glanced to K'nev, and nodded. This was just confirming their decision – she had to come to the Weyr.

I didn't think it was important for you to know. She talked to Kastineth, too!

K'nev frowned again, then nodded. "Well then, Jiriall. Would you be amenable to coming to the weyr – to stand as a candidate for the golden egg?"

Of course it was important! How many candidates do you know speak to all dragons? She's a one in a million.

Jiriall sunk to her rear, head in her hands. She thought for a long moment, before looking up at the two riders through her matted hair. "I would, but Jiriom won't let me go. He won't let me!" she almost wailed the last, cradling the little blue in her hands. "He barely lets me have these!"

K'nev almost grinned, "He can hardly stand up to two large dragons, now can he? It's your decision, and yours alone. Now – will you come?"

She nodded firmly, getting to her feet and pushing her hair from her face. She looked up at him, jaw stern as she nodded again. "I will."

K'nev laughed and turned, "Good, then. We have to go. We'll take you to the Weyr tonight, but we have to get back to the hold, and our dragons." He stopped by M'kar, looking into those brilliant green eyes, and barely restraining a beaming smile. "Told you it would go well," he murmured, and then dropped through the hole in the flooring.

M'kar paused to aid Jiriall down, and the trio descended from the tower rather quickly. A gentle push would have the place topple over, easily. A scarce candlemark, they were back at the hold, and by the dragons.

All was quiet, and it was evident those firelizards had fled, instead of returning to warn their owners. For that, K'nev was very grateful. As they emerged into the clearing, Jiriall halted with a gasp of surprise at the pair. Kastineth and Miniath were larger than she had expected.

K'nev halted the trio, scanning the clearing – but it was empty. With a smile of relief, he turned to Jiriall. "M'kar will be taking you back, and he will be going between. Now, don't be scared – it lasts for only the time it takes to cough thrice. It is fiercely cold," he began to remove his riding jacket, handing it to her, "So you will need this." He smiled at her and settled the jacket over her; it was a tad too large.

He turned from her and began speaking to M'kar, frowning. "Be careful with her. When you get there, get her settled into the barracks and explain to D'rim about her. Then Kiessa and Z'yar will want a report, but leave that until I return. Ask I'ven to come in the morning, around dawn. I will need help transporting all the candidates."

M'kar laughed, tossing his head. "Of course I'll be careful with her. Shards," he grimaced, looking somewhat beleaguered, "Kiessa and Z'yar will have our heads!"

"Forget that. What we did was justifiable, M'kar. Just go ask I'ven to come back in the morning, and maybe another rider. Miniath can take maybe… three others, but …" he sighed and trailed off, before resuming, "Definitely ask for two other riders."

"Don't be sharding ridiculous. I'll be back soon, once she's settled in and D'rim knows. You will need your riding jacket, won't you? Plus, I'll want to get out of the Weyr before Kiessa and Z'yar hear about this. We'll be on sweep duty for ages!" M'kar made a face and turned, pacing to Kastineth. He helped Jiriall up, before mounting behind her. He strapped the pair up and waved to K'nev. "I'll be back soon!" He laughed as Kastineth leapt up, powerful wings pumping to get him into the air. They gained some height, then flashed between.

Jiriall shrieked as the dragon flashed into between, shivering and clutching onto the neckridge before her. She held tight, her knuckles going white with the force of her grip. It's just between, it's just between… she repeated to herself, head ducked as she struggled not to panic. She could feel the solidness of the dragon between her legs, the strong arms of the man behind her. But that was it!

Do not panic, little one, the dragon said to her, sensing her anxiety. He rumbled soothingly, Almost there.

That wouldn't comfort her, nothing could. Just as abruptly, they emerged into cool dawn air and were spiralling down into the Weyr. It was an astounding sight – so many dragons congregated in one area, so many people. The Weyr was built in part of a tiny collapsed volcano that bordered the Cove Weyr. As the collapsed volcano was so tiny, the crater had been spread with sand, and served as a sort of hatching grounds. Scaffolding indicated the eventual construction of a roof, but that was some time in coming. The rest of the weyr was spread out across the moderately treed plain and the beach of the cove – little huts were grouped in small communities underneath patches of treeing, and wallows indicated where the dragons slept. The main gathering areas – the kitchens, the communal dining hall, and a large lounge plus records room – were large stone buildings that were cool, no matter when. Candidate barracks had been built near the sands, and the Weyrling barracks were not too far from the beach – a favourite place for all of the dragons.

A few dragons could be seen early this morning stooping to catch their prey in the large fields that had been set aside for grazing use, where the herdbeasts and runners were segregated. A member of the Weyr might get upset, should their favourite runner be eaten.

As Kastineth spiralled down, several dragons bugled their greetings and he returned them with bugles of his own. He slowly came to a landing by the candidate barracks, where D'rim was lecturing a small group of them. He shouted a greeting and slipped from the side of Kastineth, waiting to catch Jiriall as she slid down. He caught her deftly and set her down, taking K'nev's jacket from her and removing his own. Even in this dawn cool, it was ridiculously humid.

Don't get comfortable, Kas. We're going back in a bit. Contact Telligreth and request that he and his rider help us later, transporting the candidates. Give him the coordinates.

"Good morning, D'rim!" M'kar called out with a grin, then beckoned him over. He glanced down at Jiriall, who was staring about her in wonder. Perhaps 20 lengths away from her was Zanyth fussing over her clutch, and turning each egg with care. It was an awe-inspiring sight, the gold that was larger than Kastineth. Perhaps he should have warned her? He shrugged and turned to D'rim, who was dismissing the candidates to their chores. With a smile, he nodded to the candidate master.

"How are the candidates?" he asked somewhat convivially, watching the retreating group.

"Not so bad. There are the few typical Holders' children, they've done a bit of complaining," D'rim paused to grin, then continued, "But they have gotten the idea – no chores, and we get rid of them." He paused to peer at Jiriall, then arched one eyebrow. "Is this the one the dragons are making a fuss about?"

Proudly, M'kar grinned and nodded the affirmative, "Yes, she is. She's … She's special, to put it bluntly," he commented. With a nod, he stepped back and indicated the young girl with a flourish; "This is Jiriall. Jiriall, this is D'rim. He is the Candidate Master, and will rule your life for the next few sevendays."

D'rim looked over the young girl, one hand raised to shield his eyes from the rising sun. Squinting, he nodded and grunted. "Good. Have you reported to Kiessa and Z'yar?" he said as an aside to M'kar.

Suddenly, the five flits emerged from between, chirping hysterically and flying dizzyingly around Jiriall. With a faint smile, she extended her arms and they all claimed a place, creeling their distress. Her queen of course took her customary place at her neck, wrapping her long tail around Jiriall's upper arm. She chirped sadly and settled down, claiming Jiriall as hers.

The young woman smiled fondly as she settled the firelizards, stroking them affectionately. She glanced up at both D'rim and M'kar, both of whom were staring at her, open mouthed. Feeling a bit agitated, she involuntarily took one step back away from the intensity of their stares and held the flits close to her, almost cuddling her.

"You were right," D'rim remarked with a bit of a smile, "She does belong here." He shook his head and glanced back at the clutch hardening not so far away from them. She would do well. "Come, girl. We'll get you and yours settled in. M'kar – " the bronze rider looked up "Get the others K'nev reported having found. The other search riders are coming in today. Tell K'nev … well done." He laughed and took Jiriall by the shoulder, walking off with the forlorn-looking girl.

M'kar leant against Kastineth, one hand resting on the bronze shoulder. "What do you think, Kas? Did we do the right thing?"

She is destined for the Weyr, mine. Miniath could sense it – even I could feel it. She will be great.

With a little bit of a nod, M'kar turned and climbed up the bronze's shoulder, settling himself between the neckridges. "Come on, let's get back to Useless, see if he's managed to disturb the entire hold."

Jiriall trembled as the Candidate Master ushered her on, eyes wide as she stared all about her. Was this really the evil place her father had told her? She had already talked to so many different dragons – they were positively clamouring to greet her. They all seemed so lovely and friendly, but she was worried. What if the other candidates didn't like her, or she didn't fit it? She was no stranger to hard work, but it was the social side of things that had her somewhat worried. She held her firelizards close to her, while her gold Mei was burying her muzzle in her hair. She was following this candidate master – this D'rim, she thought his name was – blindly as they approached an odd low building, just on the edge of the beach. It was a beautiful area, she could say that much, but she felt very exposed without any trees. It was just open beach, with the occasional tree.

"Here's the barracks," a voice interjected on her thoughts and she looked up, startled. D'rim was standing there, holding the door open to the low building she had noticed earlier. She stepped in, peering around with big eyes. The candidate master began walking off again and she followed him, until he stopped in front of a door, and pushed it open.

"This is the room you will be sharing with Valliora and another female candidate. There is a cot, and a chest for your possessions." Here he paused, looking her over, "Didn't you come with anything?" As she shook her head, he frowned. "I'll get someone else to take you to the seamstress later, to get some more clothing for you. I suspect you would like a bath or something like that, now?" At her slow nod, he began speaking again; "There are a sort of communal baths near the kitchens, using the hot springs we found." He began verbally sketching out the directions for her, while the candidate just stood there, looking lost.

"Sir," she began softly once he had finished, "What about my firelizards? They're hungry, and…"

D'rim nodded slowly, and smiled "Fortunately, there are quite a few 'lizard owners around here, because we're on the beach. Every morning, there are bowlfuls of meat in the kitchens for them. Just ask one of the drudges and they will help you there. You can get oil and the like for them at the kitchens, too. Any other questions?" At her silence, he nodded and continued, "Well, you have the rest of the day to yourself. Evening meals are the only time when you must sit with the other candidates – get acquainted, and such. We will be having a meeting then, once the rest of the newly Searched get here. This is the last Search before the hatching," he commented, then inclined his head to her. "Enjoy your day off." He then paced off quickly, doubtless to find a candidate to berate.

Jiriall collapsed onto the cot, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. A brief smile graced her face as she stared at the whitewashed ceiling, trying to steady her breathing. In the matter of a few mere candlemarks, her life had been changed – for the better? She certainly hoped so. As the firelizards arrayed themselves around her, they began to drift off, and her with them.

M'kar dropped from the side of Kastineth the moment the bronze landed, turning to give him an affectionate pat. Thank you, friend. Get some sleep, we will be leaving again in a few 'marks.

Why couldn't we stay in the warmth? It's dawn there, and that's when it's the most pleasant… the bronze objected, but nevertheless began to curl up and lid his eyes. He rumbled as M'kar gave him a farewell pat, then began to walk off.

M'kar ambled off, glancing around him surreptitiously. It seemed as the holders were still sleeping off their excesses, although he could see a few here and there sweeping up the mess of the previous night. None of the candidates were awake, although it was probable they were with their families and enjoying their last few hours. He yawned hugely and padded towards the hut he and K'nev had been allocated, thinking he may as well get a 'mark or two of sleep, then they could go wake up the candidates. That would be fun. He opened the door slowly and on tiptoes walked in, finding the bed he had been given. He sat down with a thump and pulled off his boots and shirt, placing them at the foot of his bed. With a happy sigh, he leant back on the pillow, closing his eyes -

"M'kar?" a voice called out sleepily, and a hand reached up to unshield a glow. "Is she at the Weyr?"

M'kar groaned and rolled onto his side, looking at the sleepy K'nev who rested in the other bed. "Yes, I left her with D'rim. She's safe now."

"M'kar?"

"Yes, K'nev?"

"Do you think she will do well?"

"Just go to sleep, K'nev." M'kar shielded the glow, then rolled over and pulled the blankets up. Sleep was a valuable commodity. A few moments later, one could hear only snores coming from this particular hut.

Sunlight arcing in from an unshuttered window hit K'nev square in the eyes, and he grumbled, rolling over. But he was already awake. With a sigh, he threw the blankets back and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He brushed his hair back, grumbling to himself. His head was positively killing him, and his mouth felt like several small animals had nested in it. With a long yawn, he got up to shake M'kar.

"Come on, up." He muttered, turning to pull on his heavy wherryleather boots. He cradled his head in his hands and stared at the ground, wondering why on earth he had to get up. Silly candidates could get there themselves. He mentally shook himself and, muttering, pulled on his shirt and stomped out of the hut. M'kar emerged a few minutes later, just as bleary eyed and perhaps less presentable.

As K'nev walked towards the dining hall, he fervently wished Jiriom wasn't awake. A confrontation with the lord holder, with K'nev in this state, would only result in raised voices and K'nev likely to deck someone. It seemed he got his wish as he entered the hall, not seeing the lord holder. He heaved a grateful sigh and made his way to the table of candidates, where they were all seated with their carry sacks and eating their morning meal. Quite a few did not look too happy, and were probably nursing wretched hangovers. The entire group of eight were there, thankfully, as he slid onto a chair. A cup of klah was poured for him, and another as M'kar took a seat beside him.

He forced a bit of cheer into his voice as he began speaking; "Ready to go?" he asked of them, smiling at the responses; grunts and grumbles. "I'll take that as a yes," he murmured to M'kar, feeling much the same. He took a sip of his klah, grimaced at the bitterness, and placed the mug down. Ugh.

Call I'ven and Telligreth, please. He spoke to Miniath, nudging M'kar. "We should get going soon. I don't want to run into Jiriom. Things could get unpleasant." He nodded to the Candidates, "Get ready. We're leaving the moment I'ven and Telligreth arrive."

M'kar nodded quickly, downing his mug. "Agreed. Kastineth says Telligreth is on his way." Setting his mug down hard, he got to his feet. "Telligreth is arriving. Get up."

The pair turned and paced from the hall, leaving the candidates to gather their belongings and say their final farewells. There were some tears, and a few of the candidates were bawling by the time they regrouped out in the clearing.

"Right, I'm going to split you up. Tyneot, Valeron and Pollena with M'kar and Kastineth, please. Cavidan and Cavilon go with I'ven and Telligreth. Lyara and Barelli with me, please." He gestured to each dragon, turning to assist those he had taken up. "Do not be afraid of between," he called out, "It takes merely three coughs to pass through, and then we will be at the Weyr."

By this time, all of the candidates had mounted their respective dragons, and the riders were atop their mounts. "Let's go!" he called out, as Kastineth, then Miniath, and finally Telligreth leapt aloft and soared high enough to safely between.

Black

Blacker

Blackest

The little ditty was only half through by the time they emerged into the balmy air of Cove Weyr, with the sun beating down on their backs. The three spiralled down in formation, dropping to a landing in the large space by the barracks. Each dragon bent down to assist the candidates, who dismounted with varying degrees of success.

D'rim emerged from the barracks once more, a smile evident on his face. He hailed K'nev, M'kar and I'ven with a violent wave, trotting towards them. The four riders grouped together, as D'rim spoke, "Well done, K'nev. You're the last Search rider to come in, but you have the largest group. Zanyth's clutch will have a wonderful selection in a sevenday's time." D'rim nodded to the riders before herding the candidates together, shepherding them away. Lyara paused a long moment, waving fondly at K'nev before sashaying away.

K'nev blushed faintly, before looking up at the other two grinning riders. M'kar was the first to comment; "Ah, K'nev. Always a hit with the candidates, aren't you?" M'kar dodged a playful slap and abruptly fell on his rump in the sand. K'nev laughed at his discomfort.

"Enjoy womanising the candidates," I'ven commented as he walked off, belying the sting of that comment with a broad grin and a wave. Telligreth followed him as the pair ambled off towards their hut-weyr.

K'nev spluttered furiously, glaring at M'kar, sprawled on the sands. "You know I don't womanise the candidates, don't you?" he asked pitifully, taking a seat next to the prone M'kar. "I mean, they're just…" he trailed off and stared off into the distance.

"Of course you wouldn't," M'kar smiled up at him, "I mean, after Elleria, you learnt your lesson, didn't you?" He laughed and rolled over, until he was on his stomach and facing the nearby ocean. "But Lyara certainly has her eyes on you…"

"You had to bring Elleria up, didn't you?" K'nev commented with a long sigh, cupping his chin in one hand as he crossed his legs. There was a downside to having been friends for so long – M'kar knew all his secrets, especially the ones he wanted to hide. "She was different. We were just Weyrlings at the time, and it didn't seem so wrong. But shards…" he trailed off, staring at the waves lapping at the shore. "Plus, Lyara is just a typical teenaged girl. She sees a fantastically handsome, dashing young 'rider, I mean she's just –" he was broken off as M'kar shoved him backwards.

"You should be glad I'm here to deflate your ego, K'nev." M'kar laughed and gave K'nev another shove before righting himself up. Of course, K'nev was rather dashing… he grinned before getting to his feet and brushed off the sand. "Come on, let's get some…" he paused to glance up, "Lunch."

Jiriall woke to the noise of noisy girls' chattering, and chests being dragged across the floor. She slowly opened her eyes, briefly regretting the nap, and extricated herself slowly from the nest of firelizards sprawled over her. Settling Mei down, she slowly got to her feet and slipped on her raggedy sandals, wondering what was going on. She glanced up as a noise alerted her to her roommate entering, with another girl in tow. Wonderful. She gave them a slight smile and swiftly exited the room, to no place in particular. Although a bath would do wonderfully. She tried to brush her hair with her fingers and grimaced, deciding definitely she would need to find the bathhouse.

Pushing the barracks door wide open, she stepped out into the fierce heat and immediately shaded her eyes, squinting in the glare of sun reflecting from the sand. Now, where were the baths? D'rim said something about them being near the kitchens. Where were the kitchens? She looked around and settled on them being the immense stone building with the fire pits outside – yes, that was it. So she supposed the building not one hundred yards from it must be the bathhouses.

She set off across the burning sand, her eyes fixated on the ground. After the bath, she was… supposed to go to the seamstress, no? Some new clothes would be nice. Enough of these grimy old rags. She avoided everyone's stare, eyes low as she glared at the ground. A familiar chirp, and a burst of cold air alerted her to Kall's arrival, and the bronze dropped to her shoulder. She welcomed his familiar weight – the one continuity in her life. Or rather, five points. The other four were, hopefully, still napping. She scratched under his jaw as she entered the bathhouse, hit by a sudden waft of steam. It was just one large steaming pool, with a few screened off areas. She gulped, then shrugged and began to remove her clothing – she would pretend it was just like swimming in the pond back home. Except steamier and soapier. She was just thankful it was empty – at this time of the day, most people were either lunching, or having a nap. She slid into the warm water, sighing happily as the water relaxed her muscles. She relaxed for ten minutes or so, just laying back in the warm water and thinking. The dragonriders certainly were lucky to have this – she wondered if it was warm, even in the winter. Although, it was unlikely they had harsh winters. She finally stirred and grabbed a handful of soapsand, rubbing it into her skin and watched as the grime just seemed to disappear. Kall nudged the bubbles along, before covering himself with the suds and washing furiously. She laughed at his antics before moving onto her hair, scrubbing it out multiple times.

That finally done, she emerged from the pool, grabbing a large square of towelly fabric. Looking around, she spied a comb and abruptly grabbed it, trying to brush the snags from her hair. She bent to her task, not noticing when a few other people came in. Only their muted conversation alerted her to their present and she glanced up, eyes wide. Oh shard it, was she supposed to be in here? It was those two riders she had met earlier, and a few other women she supposed were riders. Biting her lip, she combed her hair quicker and dropped the towel and pulled her clothing on fast enough to hide a little bit of modesty. She folded the towel and placed it on a rack, looking up at a polished bit of metal. Was that really her? Jiriall ran her hands through her hair, staring wide-eyed at the long blonde hair that framed her face, with a few curls. She bit her lip and shook her head, staring at her own reflection with bright blue eyes. A slight smile graced her face as she turned – it felt wonderful to be clean. Now, to find this seamstress woman…

Jiriall looked up as others began to seat themselves at the group of tables reserved for the candidates – with upwards of 80 candidates, one table would be somewhat inadequate. Less than half of these would Impress, she realised, as she watched all of these unfamiliar people. Hang on, not entirely unfamiliar – she recognised eight people, eight faces. Had they been searched too? She shook her head, looking down at her lap. The seamstress had exclaimed over her colouring and had given her quite a bit of clothing – usually cast offs, but perfectly serviceable. As well as a few more formal dresses. She smiled as she smoothed the scarlet tunic she wore, teamed with the brown leggings she had adored. Never had she experienced such generosity.

She looked up as three people settled themselves at her table and continued chattering. She sighed and looked back down at the glass of water she had purloined, staring at the details in the glass.

"Hey," a voice distracted her and she looked up, into the face of one of the other candidates. The other candidate smiled at her and extended an elegant hand, shaking Jiriall's firmly. "I'm Ollie. This is Joren," she indicated the young man to her left, "And Aren." She nodded to the man on her left. "You're new here, aren't you?"

Jiriall nodded slowly, somewhat uncertain about these new people. She smiled, for courtesy's sake, and said; "Jiriall," by way of introduction. She nodded to the other two; Joren and Aren, before taking a sip of her water. "Yes," she responded to the question, then sighed and continued, "I came here this morning, from three strikes hold." At their looks of confusion, she continued, "Further North, not very well known."

Ollie laughed, her sienna curls bouncing as she nodded. She blinked hazel eyes at Jiriall, continuing, "I'm from Telgar. Is this your first hatching? It isn't my first, unfortunately. Hopefully this time I'll actually Impress." She made a face, then nudged Joren.

Joren jerked to attention and blinked at Jiriall with confusion, bright eyes muddled. "Whu?" he murmured, then shook his head. "Benden Weyr. I've been to countless amount of hatchings. My parents were," he sighed, running a hand through his black hair, "both dragonriders. So I've kind of been expected to Impress. I'm a bit of a disappointment." He laughed at that, before returning to his light doze.

Then, Ollie nudged Aren, who had been deep in conversation with a candidate the next table over. He shook his head, looking up at the other three. "This is my first hatching, too. I'm from Fort Hold, though. Or rather, a smaller hold outside of Fort." He sighed and looked up, ecstasy on his face. "Food!" he exclaimed, as servers with platters of roast fowl and vegetables began to file out to the many tables in the halls. A clamour rose up as various people began to talk, and eat.

Jiriall nodded her head slowly, watching the progress of servers. Food had yet to come to their table. "No, it's my first hatching too. My first visit to a Weyr, actually. Shards, the search was the first time I'd seen a dragon." She grinned as a platter was set in front of them, and snagged several slices. Setting to with a will, she mentally cursed as five familiar little shapes popped out of the air. Chattering loudly, they sat on various points around her – her chair back, the table – and began berating her, quite loudly. A few of the candidate tables quieted and began to stare at her, the girl with five firelizards. Sure, firelizards weren't exactly rare – quite a few people had one, but five? Certainly not. A few moments of staring satiated their desire, as hunger was a bit more important.

Ollie stared at the five flits, a piece of roast wherry still on her fork. She gesticulated with it as she asked "Are they really all yours?" a hint of disbelief tinged her voice as she asked, before she ate the piece of wherry. "How did you do that?"

Jiriall shrugged as she grabbed another slice for the flits, "I don't know. Whenever they hatched in the hold, I'd usually end up with one. They just always liked me, I suppose." She smiled and grabbed gold Mei, feeding her a little piece. "This little beauty is Mei," she remarked with a smile, before setting the gold down before a half slice.

"She is pretty," Ollie remarked, spearing another slice. "They must be a handful, though. Look at them now."

Jiriall nodded, pushing green Jenn away from her plate. "They constantly eat. They were even worse when they were young, awake all hours and demanding attention. They're a bit better now, and I suppose they can entertain themselves with flits here."

She hadn't even noticed she was loosening up until she had been talking with them for almost an entire candlemark, and the flits were arranged around the table, allowing themselves to be caressed by the other three candidates she had befriended. Mei, of course, was still with Jiriall – she wouldn't tolerate another person to touch her.

As the plates that had held fruit were removed, as a collective those present in the hall leant back with a sigh of contention. Every meal seemed like a feast, in the bountiful South. Riders slowly began to trickle out, as well as the Weyrfolk, yet the candidates remained. Jiriall looked somewhat perplexed, looking around her with one 'brow arched. The reason became evident as D'rim remained, along with a few others.

D'rim stepped forwards, arms crossed over his chest. "Candidates," he began, voice echoing in the large hall, "You have all been chosen for the privilege of standing at a hatching. You have the chance for Impression. The official Search is now over, and while there may be one or two more exceptional additions, you are all the Candidates for this clutch." He paused for a long moment, to take a breath and steady himself. He walked further into the group of tables, looking around him. "There are 82 of you, and 31 eggs. There are more than two Candidates for every egg. This means that most of you will not Impress. I am here to day, to talk about what will happen after Impression – for the lucky, and the unlucky. As well as to explain our schedule for the next sevenday up to the Hatching."

For those who get to Impress," he began, smiling wistfully, "Your weeks after Impression will be the busiest you have ever Impressed. Many of you have firelizards? Imagine that, but much, much larger. And with the ability to mindspeak. And demand things almost constantly. Those first few sevendays, you will have very little sleep. Then, the real work will begin. Once your dragonet has grown enough to manage well on his own, you will undergo daily lessons, training, and chores. Don't let all that put you off, though. In two turns, you will be graduated to dragonriders and be a part of your own fighting wing."

If you don't Impress, however," he paused for a moment to take a sip of his water, "you have a few choices. You can go home, back to your families and away from the Weyr." A little smile belied his opinion of that, "Or you can stay at the Weyr. Here, you can do several things. You can move here permanently, as a worker in the Weyr – a baker, or some such. One of the fantastic people who make the Weyr run. Or, you can continue to Stand at clutches until you Impress or become too old for Candidacy. Occasionally, other Weyrs will come to take some of our potential Candidates, and you can go with them." D'rim paused and grinned, nodding. "So those are your options. Any questions so far?"

Jiriall thought while others asked questions; she wasn't really paying attention. What would she do if she didn't Impress? Would she go back home? Oh, that was hardly a question. Even with her limited experience of the Weyr, she would instantly choose it over her home. Her father wasn't here. But even if she didn't Impress, perhaps she would stay as … a runner trainer, maybe. She liked runners. Or go to another Weyr? She shrugged, and turned back to D'rim as he continued speaking.

"No more questions? No? Alright, good." He sat on a tabletop, feet on a chair as he leant forwards, hands on his knees. "Your schedule for the next sevenday. Most of you will already have been doing chores for some time, except for those of you who arrived last night, and today. Tomorrow, you will all be divided into groups of four or five, and allocated daily chores. Nothing too strenuous – just contribution to the running of our Weyr. Exercising the runners, helping out with the children, minor repair work… things like that. Nothing too difficult. Also, we will take all of you, in groups of 20 or so, to the eggs. To touch them, see which ones you prefer, and to practice hatching etiquette, as well as how to behave in case of Impression. We are trying to cut down on maulings and death through idiocy. Also, you will be assigned candidate robes, sandals, and belts. For those of you who are illiterate and innumerate, we will be having daily lessons."

You must all be vigilant over the next sevenday. The hatching could come at any time, and you must stay wary. The moment you hear them thrumming, you run to the barracks and change, then assemble in the anteroom of the sands. We will be working on formation later, though. All right, everyone. That is pretty much it for tonight. Any questions, come approach me. You are all dismissed. Go to bed, and get some rest. Tomorrow, the real work begins." He grinned and stretched out, awaiting any questions.

Jiriall sighed and slowly got to her feet, waking the flits stretched across the table. They all glared at her balefully, before winking between, presumably to her bed. Fantastic. She shook her head and glanced up at Ollie, Joren and Aren, grinning. "Bed?" she suggested.

Ollie shook her head, with a bit of a devious smile. "Not yet," she murmured, moving closer towards Jiriall. "Most of us have been planning a little 'get – together' on a more secluded part of the beach. We've been planning this for quite some time, hoping Dull D'rim wouldn't find out." She grinned and nodded at another Candidate across the room, before turning back to Jiriall. "Are you coming? It'll be a blast." She giggled and turned away before Jiriall could answer, nodding to Joren. "He'll show you where. I've got some things to get together for our 'get together'." She laughed at her own wit and disappeared down a side corridor, moving swiftly and silently.

Jiriall looked at Joren, slightly perplexed as the trio walked from the hall. Aren merely laughed and slung his jacket over one shoulder, glancing sideways to Jiriall. "Take it you've never been to a real 'party' before, have you?" Jiri merely shook her head, watching after Joren as he walked off. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, with a bit of an ashamed grin.

"He's off to get some blankets. It gets a little cold at night," Aren murmured, looking down at Jiri. "Oh, don't worry. It's just really an excuse to socialise, and for most of us – to get roaringly drunk and have a little fun in the sands." He grinned again at his comment as they approached the sand. They began walking along the sand line, Aren obviously looking for this gathering point.

Jiriall looked a little puzzled as she stared at the surf, fantastically black and reflecting some of the rising moon. She gave a little smile and looked up at Aren, head canting to one side. "So how long have you been at Cove?" she asked, somewhat at a loss as to what to say. A sudden burst of fresh air presaged Rali's arrival – one of her greens - who immediately dropped to her shoulder, whining most piteously.

"Far too many sevendays to count," he sighed, watching as Rali appeared out of thin air. He almost extended one arm to her, but thought better of it. "Before Zanyth clutched, indeed." He sighed again, then paused before what seemed almost a wall of rocks that separated the cove from what lay beyond. He grinned at her before attacking the wall, scaling it. "Come on, it's just over the other side. There are easier ways to get there, but this has the best views."

Jiri stared up at the rocks, before gulping and setting to. Climbing it carefully, she reached the top not long after Aren and paused, staring. From the top she could see the tiny cove, and the moon-kissed waves that lapped at the shore. Verdant greenery stretched from the beach, to continue far back. Below was an immense campfire and quite a few of the candidates stretched out on blankets. A few had brought along instruments and were striking up a tune, to which some were dancing.

Aren dropped from the top of the wall, dropping to the ground and rolling. He looked up and grinned, "Coming down?" he asked, watching her. "Don't worry. It's not as far as it looks."

Jiri stared down at the beach that seemed so far below, to the figure there waiting for her. She clenched her teeth and climbed down as far as she could, before shrugging and jumping. She landed heavily, rolling as she landed and knocked right into Aren. She grinned as he toppled too, offering a soft "Sorry," as she struggled to right herself. Pernicious sand, clinging to everything. As she climbed to her feet, her hair fell from its bindings, falling about her face wildly and falling to its full length. Grumbling, the candidate merely shook her head and offered a hand to Aren, helping him to his own feet.

Aren got to his feet slowly, even with Jiri's aid, smiling wistfully. He watched this young candidate he had known for perhaps a few candlemarks, then shook his head quickly. No. He turned and, placing one hand on her shoulder, led her to the fireside to a blanket, and a couple skins of something expressly forbidden.

K'nev slowed as he walked out of the dining hall, hands in his pockets. He stared at the ground as he paced slowly, entirely unsure of where his feet were taking him. Eyes fixed on the scrubby grass and sand below his feet, he merely wandered, uncaring where he went. He wasn't quite sure what had put him in such a mood – was it M'kar, mentioning Elleria and drudging up some history he'd much rather forget – or some other source.

He was entirely unsurprised when he ended up next to Miniath, arms on the brown's side with his head bowed. Miniath was entirely accustomed to these brief spells of despair, and as such would tolerate them for as long as they lasted. The brown rumbled comfortingly, craning his head around to nudge K'nev fondly. His eyes lidded, he blew a warm gust of air at his rider.

What is wrong, K'nev?

The brown rider groaned and turned, sinking to his rump. This was the one place he truly felt safe, leaning against his dragon, feeling like they were the only two in this world. His head back, he watched the stars. A familiar activity, but one comforting nonetheless.

"I don't know," he almost whined, stretching his hand out to rub at one eye ridge. "M'kar mentioned Elleria again earlier, and since then I've just… been like this. It's a pain, I know, but I can't help but feel responsible. I am responsible. Shards – if we hadn't –"

Yes, you were responsible, in a way. But you loved her. And how could you tell she would die in childbirth?

"She shouldn't have died!" he exclaimed, one fist thudding into the harsh sand below him. He almost growled, "And her gold Xiriyiith shouldn't have died either! She was too young."

It is a shame, I know. But Xiri followed her willingly.

"I know, I know Mini… you've told me many times. She shouldn't have had to, though! If Elleria and I hadn't…" he trailed off, fists clenching as he stared at the sky. That wasn't the only thing bothering him – despite the tragedy, he couldn't stop thinking about another candidate. He almost snarled, head bowing as he grasped futilely at the sand.

K'nev, the brown started, yawning mid-way through his statement, You know what the healers said. She would have died in childbirth, now, or in twenty turns time. It was an unavoidable problem.

"But if we hadn't, she wouldn't have Impressed. Xiriyiith would still live, and…" he broke off, shaking his head slowly, "No. If the pregnancy had been detected earlier, something could have been done. Shards, Miniath! I'm a deadglow."

Xiriyiith would have found Elleria, if she was on the sands or not. Elleria was hers, and nothing could have changed that. And you know Elleria wouldn't have wanted to get rid of the child. At least he's still alive – think of it that way.

K'nev half-smiled, a corner of his lips twitching up in a facsimile of real joy. "There is that," he muttered, voice emotionless. "Her sacrifice was not in vain. I just wish she could have known he lived, before she died."

He lives, K'nev. As do you. Seize the present.

K'nev nodded, leaning further back against Miniath. "Yes, I am alive. And I can thank you for that." He almost grinned, as tendrils of music reached his ears. "The candidates are having one of their parties again?" The entire Weyr knew, of course they did. But it did so amuse the candidates to think they were secretive. Shards, the cavernfolk even pointedly left the wine and alcohol stores unlocked for the candidates. Had to let them have some fun, during this long period. Plus, it would do them good to get some of this exuberance out before the hatching, and possible weyrlinghood. With a sigh, he smiled and turned over on his side. Maybe he would spend the night out here, with his dragon. He curled up against the musky warmth of Miniath, content for the time being.

M'kar rolled over in his bed, careful to avoid the out flung arm of the green rider next to him. His arms folded over, he stared at the ceiling, thoughts almost empty. He glanced to the green rider beside him, stared at the delicate face, and the tumbling brown curled that hid most of her face. He watched her breathe, the pale chest rising up and down. A slight smile quirked his lips before he sat up, cradling his head in his hands. Again, he had done this. Again. He slowly slipped from his bed, pulling on a pair of pants, and padded from the large room that constituted his weyr.

He emerged from the hut into the clear moonlight that dappled the sea before him, and cast unnatural shadows on the sand. He noted in passing that Miniath was not at his wallow, and by extension, K'nev not in his weyr. He sighed softly and padded to the crest of the sand dune just beyond his individual weyr. Climbing the sandy slope, he reached the top and merely collapsed there, onto his rump. He could see the heady smoke of the candidate's fire and allowed himself a whimsical smile at their deception. He had done much the same when he was a Weyrling – he and K'nev, oh the pranks they had gotten up to…

What was bothering him? He had no clue, except there was a slight niggling feeling of loss, and something that just wasn't right. He should be happy with his life – he was a bronze rider and while he was currently just a wing rider, rumour had it he was close to promotion. He had bedded a pretty little green rider, and no shortage of women wishing to weyrmate him. So what was it? He frowned and stared at the sand between his feet, stretching out one large hand to make little mountains, and scoop out little ditches. At least one thing was constant in his life; Kastineth, and the friendship he had with K'nev. Although at times – he didn't know what to make of that. His friendship at times felt somewhat tenuous, on the verge of becoming something else.

M'kar got to his feet ponderously, wincing as his knees cracked. Shards, you would think he was getting old – he was only 30 Turns! Shaking his head from the sand that had somehow gotten in – that was the disadvantage of living in such a locale – he cast one last, long glance at the spectacular landscape before him and returned to his hut – and the green rider.

Solid sunlight beating down on her eyes forced Jiriall to stir, to throw up one arm over her eyes. She groaned as she moved, wondering where on earth she was, and why her belly was heaving so – she almost jumped to her feet and somewhat woozily, made her way away from the congregation and noisily, began vomiting up the contents of her stomach for what felt like the last three turns. That done, she began to pick her way across the prone bodies back to where she had fallen asleep – or possibly, unconscious – with Ollie, Aren, and Joren. Oh shards, she could barely remember last night! Shaking her head, she slumped on the sand and leant forwards to nudge the dying embers, throwing on a large piece of driftwood. As she watched the flames perk up, devouring the dry bit of wood, other people slowly began to wake. Ollie was the first of the trio to wake, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and pulling back her reddish curls.

"What…" she paused, staring at her stomach in wild consternation, "What?" She suddenly shook her head and hurried off, presumably to perform the same task Jiri had, only ten minutes before. She returned, looking significantly healthier but not too comfortable. She sat next to Jiri, accompanying her with a long stare into the flames. A quick rummage about revealed a not entirely empty skin of wine and she took a long sip, grinning mischievously at Jiriall. "Hair of the canine, and such," she murmured, downing the skin in one long, practised gulp. She could handle her alcohol, one could say that of her.

"Good morning to you too," Jiri retorted with a bit of a grin, false enthusiasm she certainly did not feel, this early in the morning and with what felt like an entire regiment of drummers playing in her head. Even after wracking her brain, she couldn't remember what had happened last night – oh, wait. No, she could. She glanced over her shoulder at Joren and made a somewhat horrified face, flashes of last night's events (once fully intoxicated) crept back into her mind. Oh shards. No, not good. Not good at all. She could vaguely remember some drunken fumbling that had evolved into something more… intimate. "Oh shards," she swore, adding a few more violent oaths of her own. Pulling her hair back from her face, she glanced over at Ollie, who looked just as wretched as she felt.

"Only starting to remember?" the redheaded girl ask, wrinkling her nose at Jiri. She brushed down her shirt, sighing at some stains that she knew wouldn't come off. "You really can't handle your alcohol, can you?" she commented, tossing another piece of driftwood into the fire. "You're going to have to work on that." And that was her only comment as to the situation; of course she knew what had happened, but she had done similar actions under the influence, in her life. With a bit of a smirk she began to climb to her feet, walking among the still sleeping and nudging them (fine, more kicking them) into wakefulness. "Did you enjoy it, at least?"

Oh shards, Jiri really couldn't remember. As she stared at the sleeping Joren, she vainly tried to remember what had happened. "I think so?" she called back, frowning. Oh well, it was one more thing she wouldn't have to worry about. With a bit of a grin, she got up and followed Ollie, distributing her own wakeful 'nudges'. "But what does he think about it?"

Ollie shrugged as she bent down to retrieve another not entirely spent wineskin and tasted it, before making a face. "Sour," she commented and tossed it back towards the pile of discarded skins, by the fire. She continued her self-appointed mission as alarm clock, "What do you mean?" she asked rather innocently, hiding her face as a grin spread across those freckled cheeks.

"Well," Jiri started, unsure of just how to continue. She struggled to straighten her tunic, wondering how on earth she had managed to get such a large rent in her leggings. "Would he –" pause here, for perhaps dramatic effect and thought, "Would he want more? Or even a relationship…?" She trailed off, feeling acutely uncomfortable and awkward.

"Well, do you want one?" was Ollie's only response as she helped one person to their feet with a kindly smile.

"No!" Jiri retorted, aghast at the very notion. She then realised the vehemence of her shout, and with an embarrassed giggle, caught up with Ollie. She lowered her voice, idly finger-combing her hair. Who knew hair could hold so much sand? "I mean, I've only known him for… what, a sevenday? Plus, I just don't…. I don't like him like that!" she almost wailed the last, looking quite distraught.

Ollie suddenly turned, taking Jiri by the shoulders. "Then why on earth did you…?" she trailed off and shook her head with a sigh, releasing Jiri abruptly. "There's someone else, isn't there?" she remarked with a little smile, then nodded. "Just don't bring it up with Joren. Unless he mentions something, of course." She grinned wickedly, then just as abruptly swore. "Go wake Joren and Aren! We'll be lake for the breakfast, and if we're not there when D'rim is handing chores, he'll have us for sure!" She looked wide-eyed as she resumed waking everyone up, this time just a bit more intent on her job.

Jiri nodded and turned, hurrying to there the four of them had slept last night. She wouldn't make this awkward. Please don't let it be awkward! She caught Joren already awake, and Aren waking. She offered a brief smile and almost blurted out, "Ollie said let's go! It's breakfast, and if we're not there when D'rim…" she halted as they both nodded, getting up and wildly looking about for their clothes. Spying Joren's shirt, she grabbed it and tossed it to him, before spying Ollie and waving.

The four set off at a jog, scaling the boundary of rocks with haste evident in their speed, and once at the other side, broke into a straight sprint towards the halls. They raced towards the dining hall, slowing only once they approached the door. Sliding in, in a mess of sand and filth, they looked sheepish and entered the great hall, trying to gain their table unobtrusively.