Welcome to Gaia! ::

Veyes was more than happy to get out of the Weyr and see an entirely new place. For such a large crowd, it still didn't seem as packed as the Weyr and for that Veyes was thankful. He was even more thankful that everyone had been allowed to come here including himself. It made him feel a little less alienated as he often felt as of late.

He tried to shove all that negativity to the back of his mind because this was the FIRST gather he had ever been to! There were so many marvelous sites and wonderful smells while tucked in his pocket was the small bag of marks that his mother gave him before he left for the Weyr. She probably wouldn't mind him using just a few for his first gather although he was certain she might have wished to be there with him. But since she couldn't be ...maybe, he would find her a little gift just to tell her how much he loved her.

With a renewed feeling of purpose he planned how he would make his rounds of the merchants but something caught his eye as he noticed the signs of the races...Runner beasts!

Being from Ruatha, there was a bit of pride that swelled up as he approached the area and took a look around as he listened to the man that harshly spoke at the customers with a bit of a wheeze. A frown came to his lips when the man said that people in the Weyr knew nothing of Runners. Well, he knew a lot more than a weryling born brat that was for sure! Heck, he rode them, took care of them and cleaned up after enough of them on the herd farm! But still, right now he was sort of a member of the Weyr...so maybe he'd just have to prove the man wrong.

Hmm...just pick a runner...eh? At least, if he could look them over he'd probably have a reasonable chance of picking a winner. Although, sometimes there were things you couldn't see just by a short glance such as a weak ankle, fears, and other things. He'd been thrown off a runner before when it got scared so the element of chance always had its' place.

In the end, that small bit of courage that usually reared its ugly head at the wrong times came forward again as he carefully approached the man and said in a low but polite voice so as not to draw too much attention to himself, "I want to join in, sir."

Like most girls of a certain age (that age being from… oh, zero to 119), Elae loved runnerbeasts. They were just so graceful! They didn’t often come close to the Weyr, thanks to the huge meat-loving dragons. Runnerbeasts were smarter than that, Elae was certain of it. She vaguely wondered where Nan was, but that was alright; Nan could take care of herself. She was, no doubt, in the middle of a crowd gathering up some delicious scandal. Elae could hardly wait to meet up with her. But, until then…

There were horsies over here! Yay! For a moment, she watched Yeron with fascination, wondering if she ought to bet on him instead of one of the runnerbeasts. Anyone who was still alive and yet sounded like that could keep going for a thousand Turns, she bet. She fished around in her pockets for a moment until she managed to find a Mark.

“I’m up for some betting!” she said cheerily, not at all put off by the old man’s doubts and harsh words about Weyrlife. After all, there was a flit egg to win! Who cared about what some old man said when there was a firelizard egg on the ropes?

Having filled his belly properly, Jessan made his way from the main part of the Gather down to the runner beast tracks. His family had never dealt with the runners, mainly sticking with the thicker and slower herd beasts. They kept an animal or two for travel purposes but entertainment? He supposed racing was a business that could make a lot of money. Cool blue eyes took in the sight of minor Lords and Ladies, craftsmen, and weyr folk handing over marks as they made bets.

He didn't have a whole mark to his name. But apparently, there were odds. Bet so much, get so much back. Bet enough and win a flit egg. It was a game of chance, not unlike the misdirection he and Mal had discussed while cleaning old rooms. One could never tell how a runner would act until the signal was given. Listening to the old man, he immediately didn't appreciate the way he spoke. Not to be discouraged, Jessan walked up next to some others who looked vaguely familiar from the Weyr and spoke to the caller. "I'm always up for taking a chance."

His eyes slid over to the different beasts. Jessan knew how to tell one good herd beast from another, it couldn't be too hard to do with the runners.

L'thor grinned at Veyes and nodded. "I thought I might as well. I find it makes races all the more exciting if I have a stake in them... I've not quite decided which I like yet either." All of them were good beasts, they would have to be to be racing at a gather, and he hadn't heard anything much about odds discussed on his way here. Pursing his lips thoughtfully, L'thor settled on a handsome chestnut, for old-times sake.

"Good luck Veyes," he said with a grin to his young friend. It was about time Veyes got a day off from cleaning latrines. All the fresh air must be quite a relief after those duties. Egh.

V'len usually wasn't one to bet. He wasn't really one for games usually, either, nor Gathers, unless A'kor was there. Which he was... just... the bluerider wasn't exactly sure where, at this point in time.

He had been looking all over, peeking into tents and staring suspiciously at the couples dancing, half expecting him to be there dancing with some pretty girl. It wouldn't be out of his character. Yet so far, he hadn't been able to find the debonair brownrider, neither in the tents nor in front of the wine, nor in the poker tent (another likely place to find him). The only other bets that were being taken, as far as he knew, were the runnerbeast races.

Folding his arms across his chest, the blonde watched as a few decided to place bets, his eyes scanning the area for the redhead. No sign of him here either. On a whim he glanced over at a few of the others who had decided to test their luck, his blue eyes then flickering over to the runnerbeasts themselves. One in particular caught his eye, and he sighed. Oh well. What was the harm, really?

"I'll bet."

In his days as a starsmith apprentice, Gh'lan had learned rather quickly that chance was a rather nebulous creature, often followed by the bitter taste of disappointment. Living a life of science and discovery also tended to numb the mind to the whimsy of betting on a slim margin, but to be completely honest, that aspect of the craft never quite settled into the young man's psyche.

Gh'lan adored races.

It wasn't the betting or the prospect of winning something that drew him to the long picket lines, it was instead a draw similar to what he felt when he thought of the day he'd fly Khunoth.

Freedom.

Being aboard a runner was something he'd grown accustomed too since his old mentor had traveled so often, but nothing could prepare him for the thrill of ground bound flight the first time he watched the wind-swift racing runners go at his first Gather. Audaciously, he'd asked one of the picket linemen if he could ride one of the swift runners for a few marks back then. Though the animal had finished last in the race the night prior, and was days away from being sold for field labor (or so claimed the old man caring for him) Gh'lan was given the ride of his life. He hadn't lost his seat, though to this day Gh'lan wasn't sure how he had accomplished that, and had returned jubilant knowing his marks had been well spent.

So after wandering the current Gather with mild interest, he found his way to the runner track, and hurried to place in his bets.

It was a bit of a blur for a moment as the race begin, but Fenferari was able to pick them out individually after a few seconds. They leveled out, racing for the finish. It looked like his pick wasn't doing so well and the boy laughed softly to himself. He shook his head. He always had terrible luck with this sort of thing. That was what he got.