Kestket brushed out the runners' palomino coats until they positively glowed in the early morning light. Jentka joined him, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and watching curiously as the lordling groomed the runners. Gurdy chirped, alerting him to the boy's presence.
"Good morn," Kestket made sure to face the lad's as he spoke. Sleepily Jentka smiled and made a hand sign. Kestket paused in his grooming, and attempted to replicate the sign. The boy laughed, a soundless airy sort of laughter and repeated the sign, but more slowly, so Kestket could see the proper way to make it. Kestket tried again and this time the boy nodded approvingly. Bemused, Kestket waved him over.
"Have you ever brushed out a runner?" Jentka shook his head. "Would you like to?" He nodded eagerly. Kestket made two broad strokes with the curry comb, explaining to brush in the direction of how their fur laid, then he turned the comb over to the lad. The youngster was a quick study, and Kestket let him brush the runners out again as he combed out the manes and tails. The runners, placid beasts, enjoyed the extra attention, and the last of the dried redfruit.
"Well done." Kestket ruffled the boy's hair and he beamed back with pride. "Now I'm going to check their hooves. This is a pick." He explained, handing the metal tool the boy, then showing him how to tap the runner's knee, causing the equine to lift it's leg. He'd checked the night before, like he did every night, since a lame runner would slow him down considerably. Kestket pointed out the parts of the hoof, and explained how to use the pick. Jentka paid careful attention, then looked expantantly at the next leg.
"You want to check the other feet?" Kestket guessed. The lad nodded. "Alright." He stood by and watched as Jentka checked the other hooves. The runners turned their heads and watched them, as amused by the boy's critical examination as Kestket.
"Your beasts look good," Slarjent noted, emerging from the shelter.
"Good enough to trade for a fast runner and a fortnight's provisions?" Kestket asked. Slarjent scratched his bearded chin.
"I don't see why not. Shall we break our fast and head out to the Hold of a breeder I know?"
Kestket nodded, and they returned to the firepit while the runners grazed.
Fulsa sat next to Char on the step to the Weyrling Barracks, talking quietly as the the sun reddened the morning sky. Telgarsk had not stayed for the Hatching, but Fulsa, conveying a hopeful candidate, had joined Char when she saw the bluepair watching from the Bowl entrance. Both had cheered for Lybae when her green hatched and stumbled over to her. Standing at the other entrance Urlyra gave B'ton a congratulatory hug as their daughter Impressed.
The crowd had been puzzled when the girls first walked out onto the Sands, but with Lybae's Impression a curious sort of acceptance had come off the crowd, especially as more boys impressed the larger colors. All but two of the greens, (fifteen in all) impressed females, something that made Fulsa grin widely when mentioned. The young man she had brought also Impressed, one of the browns, so she was in no hurry to return to the Hold.
"You're still the only girl bluerider though." She mock frowned. Char snorted. "The dragons choose. And 'sides, they all looked happy together."
It was a good Hatching. Vaeth informed them from the ledge he shared with Mirrth. He was flying well enough now to get up and down, something only two other greens from his clutch had managed.
Preocith and Liberath come. Vaeth announced suddenly, sitting up to watch the Igen queen and brown arrive. The pair circled for a moment, then slowly descended as V'kka jogged out of the gloom to meet them. They landed near the Barracks, and Fulsa stood, watching as three passengers dismounted, three woman all hugging green hatchlings to them.
"I think it's time for me to go." She flashed Char a quick smile, collected their empty dishes, and hurried off towards the Lower Caverns.
V'kka spoke with the newcomers, then gestured to the Barracks. Char also stood, and leaned on her walking stick as they came over.
"Char." V'kka smiled, recognizing her, "could you help our newest greenriders get settled while I speak with Meredad?"
"My pleasure." Char glanced at the three women. "The new dragonpairs are asleep, but they are probably wouldn't hear us iffin' the harpers were playin' on top of them." The three women shared a nervous glance, but smiled shyly as she opened the door and lead them in. Char stopped at the linen shelf on the way to the Girls' side, passing bedding to the newcomers.
"There's still open cots on the far wall. Normally we have to help do our own laundry, but they won't ask you to this first seven days. Have your dragonets eaten?" The women nodded, then circulated around to the indicated cots, choosing to stay together. Char offered what help she could, as the greens seemed loath to be put down, but they finally got squared away, and Char sat on the edge of the middle cot as the women caressed and reassured their dragonets.
"Char," the oldest of them, a woman with streaks of grey in her brunette locks finally spoke, "did your Weyrlingmaster speak truly? We are welcome to stay here as long as we wish?"
Char tilted her head, slightly confused by the apprehension and fear the women radiated. "If that's what V'kka said, then that's the truth."
"And we'll train to fight Thread?" The shortest, a black hair woman just out of childhood, asked.
"They're training me and Vaeth to fight Thread. And Jurille told me it was important that we join the Wings just as soon as we are trained. Thread still falls on Pern." Char explained, and wondered if Gl'tek's attitude towards girls on dragons was more widespread than she had been given to believe in the Weyrs.
"What is Jurille like?" The last woman, with brown hair and a thick scarf she kept on despite having shed the rest of her flying gear asked in a voice sounding more like the rush of rocks than words.
"She's nice. Iffin' you have a question no one else can answer you can always ask her. She's busy a lot of the time, but she always makes time for everyone, even new riders like me. Tress is easier to get ahold of a lot of the time, she's the headwoman, but I haven't met anyone here who wasn't willin' to help iffin' I ask."
The eldest looked at her quizzically. "Where are you from, Char of Vaeth?"
"A small Beast cothold near Oxbow Road on the Telgar River."
"And you were Searched?" The way she asked made Char think it was her age, and not her sex, that the women found unlikely.
Char shook her head with a smile.
"No. I was with the tithe herd, droving. We arrived in time for the Hatching, and Vaeth chose me."
"An unplanned Impression. Like us." The short one murmured. This seemed to decide them, and the greens themselves calmed down, settling on the cots, but still touching their bondmates. Char wanted to ask them questions, but at that moment Tress arrived with a tray of mugs and a steaming pitcher.
"I'm Tress, and any questions you have that the younglings can't answer, please ask me." She said pouring sweetened and warmed milk into cups for each of them. "I know you'e had a long jump and are tired. Please, sleep yourselves out. Char can help or her dragon can call me if you need anything." She continued, and suddenly the shortest was weeping softly.
"Oh, sweetling." Tress handed the pitcher off the Char and went to hug her. "It's alright, it's alright. You're safe and welcome here."
Meredad caught Jurille just as the Weyrwoman was about to retire to her weyr for a nap. She was dressed for riding, which puzzled the weary queenrider until she abruptly remembered Ofsee's demand.
"How went it?" She asked, taking the other queenrider's hands in her own.
"As smooth as a tunnelsnake in a grease pit." Meredad gave her a wan smile. "May I feed Preocith and Liberath before we go?"
"Of course! Stay, rest before you make the jump back. You can't fight Thread after this trip." Jurille urged. Meredad shook her head.
"I didn't make the jump the day you asked, we're fresh. The dragons are merely peckish."
Jurille smiled fondly at her Igen counterpart, and gave Meredad's hands one last squeeze. "By all means, sister. And thank you, for making this jump."
"My pleasure, Jurille. Anything to kick sand in C'seld's pudding." The Igen Weyrwoman grinned wicked, then added, "make sure your Healer checks them over." Her eyes went flinty at her next comment. "I think someone beat them."
Sorry, Chipmunk0, this story has grown far larger than I had imagined back in the day. Every time I think I'm done with a character, they come back to inform me of new developments. Still, I'm glad I can entertain you!
Language notes:
'smooth as a tunnelsnake in a grease pit' = something pulled off with ease, and near impossible to catch
'To kick sand in [person's name]'s pudding' = to cause problems for someone.