She would admit it; she was hungry. Behani had been lying in her bed for quite some time now, first listening to the soft murmurings and occasional loud bellows of Bir'len as he attempted to "cheer up" the rest of the female Candidates. Eventually, though, she heard his voice ebb away and the scrapes of chairs on the stone floor as girls dismissed themselves. Foot steps down the hall and the soft thuds of doors closing told her that some girls went to their rooms. The silence that followed or the second round of quick scurrying feet told Behani that the rest of the girls either cried themselves to sleep or had decided that joining the Hatching Feast was a good idea.

And how could it not be? Behani had barely even touched her lunch, for the Weyr was buzzing with anticipation: That morning Electa, Murlath's rider, had informed the breakfast diners that the Clutch should be Hatching that day. From then on, Behani was pulled to and fro, up and down, and side to side getting things ready, getting in touch with her family, ensuring that her robes still fit properly. But now that that was all over…

Behani's stomach groaned piteously and she sighed, closing her eyes, weary of staring at the ceiling. If she were going to leave, she should do it now. The young woman got up and, glancing at the vacant beds in her room, she sighed. Three out of four Impressed here. Behani's depression was back suddenly and with a vengeance. As swiftly as she had stood up, she flopped back down, curling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. Her father was right. She was a failure. A blood traitor.

"Behani, we're done for the day. The rest of this work can be left for your brothers," Berined, her father, told her sharply.

Behani, for the first time in hours, looked up from her task of separating chaff from wheat they had recently harvested. She was dirty from head to toe with dust and particulates. It had been windy and her hair was in complete disarray, but at least she looked no different from any of the other women Berined had assigned to do this all important task.

She was a farmer. They all were. Her mother had inherited their small Hold at a young age when her grandfather had died swiftly of a lung disease, but her mother was not versed in the ways of maintaining the huge expanse of lands and peoples left under her care. She had quickly married Berined, her father's best hand. Despite all their toils and all of their work, Zorik Hold was poor and getting poorer. The dragonmen required tithes, but they barely produced enough harvest to sustain themselves…

A loud banging on her door brought her to the present and Behani quickly moved to cover herself, for she had shed her white robes the instant she was in privacy.

"Behani? It's me…Rula," As if Behani could forget the voice of her friend.

"Come in!"

The words were barely out of the young woman's mouth when the door opened up and a thin, almost frail-looking blonde youth scurried into her room. Behani, in spite of her lapse into self-pity, smiled at the site of her. Rula's too big eyes seemed to bulge right out of her face and, even in her darkest of moods, she had an air of everlasting surprise.

"So, how are you? Feeling better? Bir'len really came down on you, huh?" Rula asked, peering intently at the other Candidate. Whether she was truly concerned about Behani's well being or had merely come to see if Behani would have been – or could have been – reduced to tears was hard to tell; Rula was sly and cunning like that.

"Doing just fine, aside from the obvious, but what else can you expect from Bir'len?" The older girl said, pleased that she had managed to keep her voice as off-handed and unconcerned as the situation allowed. "I still can't believe how I just stood there, you know?"

Rula's eyes lowered slightly and, for once, she didn't look as self-righteous as she always was. Almost smugly, Behani guessed that the same sorts of thoughts were running through her head as well.

"Yes, I—" Rula paused, biting her lip, "It was rather intimidating, wasn't it? Bir'len never said…I mean, he hardly discussed…"

There, Rula has a point, Behani thought. Bir'len mentioned the Hatching only passively, when someone specifically pressed him for details. Even at that, the most he ever said was that it was a whole lot of standing and waiting and that they were generally short. What he had never thought to tell them was how terrifying it was, how alone they would feel, battling their own fears as well as trying to, somehow, make themselves as noticeable as possible once the Eggs started Hatching.

"I don't know why Tarali and C'lous still keep him around," Behani said quietly, reaching out to pat Rula on her shoulder, pretending that she hadn't seen how her eyes suddenly shown with an excess of moisture. Thinking back, Behani remembered the girl standing, eyes wide in terror, as Eggs shattered all around her; it was almost no wonder that she hadn't Impressed…

"Well, at least we have some experience for next time. I'sim told me that Yilith was looking, well, brighter than usual. He was sure that she'll be up within the sevenday," Rula responded briskly, shaking herself lightly, any trace of unshed tears gone from her face.

"P'mit said the same thing. He said that since we'll be in a Pass soon, the golds will be Rising more frequently…and with bigger numbers. And we're wing-light, so maybe Yilith's Clutch'll be huge," The brown-eyed girl replied, standing up and heading for her trunk. Her stomach was beginning to growl more insistently now. Dressing wouldn't take long and she could invite Rula to the Feast.

"Yes, and with…Nemfloth and Willa gone, we're short on queens," Behani was surprised to hear now unhappy Rula was to mention the demise of the old Senior pair a Turn ago. Personally, Behani was glad the two were gone: Nemfloth notoriously gorged herself on the Feeding Grounds before her mating Flights. The old Senior Weyrleader, Z'mik, could not control his Weyrwomen and was just as clueless a leader as Willa was.

"Indeed. Come, dear, are you hungry? It's not good for us to starve ourselves. A wonderful meal will cheer us up right and so will a good night's rest. Tomorrow, I'm sure, we'll be up early helping the Weyrlings with their first day as riders," Behani said purposefully, dressing in her Gather's best and gently tweaking the collar of her tunic so that it sat straighter on her head.

Rula nodded and stood, quietly following Behani's lead out the door and towards the Great Hall for dinner.