She felt mildly ill. It had been almost ten minutes since the Hatchings end and Behani still had a serious case of the shakes. Bir'len the Candidate Master had done all he could to console those other Candidates who failed to Impress. He grouped the boys and girls separately and gave them each group a pep talk that he felt fitting for the differences in gender.

"Now ladies, there's really no need to sob and sigh," He said gently to the group of thirteen girls who had failed to meet their lifemates. "There'll be another Clutch here on the Sands soon, you know, and none of you are near the age cut off!"

The portly old blue rider smiled in a way that he must have considered charming and opened his wide, slack mouth again, "Who knows! Yilith might Clutch gold and then you'll have your chances to really shine!"

Behani couldn't stand the pompous old lecher. He was one of those hidebound dragonriders who thought women were good for only two things: riding gold and making love. How he had retained his authority over the Candidates was beyond her. Really, Behani thought, staring into his cold brown eyes that always seemed to look at everyone and no one all at the same time, he should have been sent to the fighting wings after he singlehandedly impregnated three of the girls scheduled to Stand at Murlath's Hatching.

"Now, I know some of you are feeling rather down, but this is the best time to find new friends, make new acquaintances. I suggest all of you attend the Feast to get your minds off things. I'm sure everyone'll find a handsome lad to dance with once the Harpers start their jigs," Bir'len pressed, grinning in a way he must have considered boyish and playful. Behani nearly threw up in her mouth.

"However," His tone suddenly turned serious, "I do not recommend you girls drink too much. We all don't want to have another Mirada incident."

Finally, his words seemed to have impact on the depressed and dejected group of girls. Mirada had drowned herself in the Weyr Lake after failing to Impress the fourth time in a row a Turn and a half before Behani arrived at Igen Weyr. Behani had heard a nasty rumor that Bir'len had talked the heavily intoxicated girl into killing herself and an even nastier one that he'd actually done it. As much as something so horrible about the man wouldn't surprise Behani, she honestly couldn't see the fat Candidate Master performing such a physically tasking job as drowning someone.

Please, girl…Do not think so coldly of my rider.

The brown haired girl felt a tremendous shudder that had nothing to do with her failure on the Hatching Grounds. Was that Varlimeth?! He hardly ever moved from his weyr unless Bir'len needed him for a demonstration. How could he have possibly heard her?

You think very loudly.

Sitting rigidly in her chair, she stared down the blue rider in front of her. Had Varlimeth told him what she was thinking? Oh, Faranth, what if the rumors were true?!

They are not. The girl died regrettably, but perhaps she did have it coming to her.

Stay out of my head! Behani roared mentally, throwing all of her consciousness into warding off Varlimeth's invasion. Something closed in her mind with a snap! and there was a sudden vacancy in her brain that she hadn't noticed was there until its space had been unoccupied again. By Faranth…What was wrong with her? How did Varlimeth get into her head?! Her eyes darted around fretfully, glancing from sobbing to stoic to completely dumbfounded girls all around her. Had anyone else had a non-verbal exchange with Bir'len's dragon? No…it didn't seem like it…

"Ah…" The soft uncomfortable sound escaped her before she could stop it and Bir'len turned to her with a patronizing gaze.

"Something to add, Behani? Or may I continue? These girls need help right now and if you're going to be insensitive enough to interrupt me, you're more callous than I thought you were," The sharpness and superiority in his voice shocked Behani more than Varlimeth had.

'Shards, he's a jerk,' Behani thought, an eyebrow half raised in his direction. What was that all about? Her mind turned over dozes of memories, hundreds of interactions between herself and the Candidate Master. Nothing stood out to her that would have given him reason to lash out at her so suddenly. Perhaps Varlimeth had said something…

"No, sir, I've got nothing to say," She managed, forcing a smile onto her face.

"In that case, you are dismissed. You are obviously in such a state of shock that you probably don't even realize what's going on here," Bir'len said, with a fake smile and with irritating false sympathy.

"You should retire to you room, now. I'll send someone along to check on you later."

She knew she was dismissed. As she stood, she was perturbed to see that all eyes in the room were on her, glaring at her like she was some sort of mutated wher-runnerbeast mix. It was ironic that Bir'len could turn each and every one of the girls against each other in a heartbeat, but could not capture one single heart throb for himself. Shaking her head, she headed for her room and shut the door behind her as quietly as she could.