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Character Name: Alianar
Age: 18 (17 as of a month after creation. 16 at creation; Last Update: April 2013)
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Craft/Rank: Apprentice Wherhandler

History: Alianar has lived his entire life in a small minehold near Benden Hold. He was the third boy to be born to his parents, so he spent his life in a rather uproarous household between his parents frequent spats and the rowdiness of some of his siblings. Of the eventual five children of Alia and Herovar, only Alianar and his older brother Helier managed to miss the boisterous and temper genes entirely. His father was a dedicated miner, and despite the accidents that occurred from time to time in the mines, no one in his family would ever speak ill of the work they were involved with or its risks. It just bred a level of respect in them for what Pernese soil could do to a man and what watchwhers could do to improve safety for the mines. Their hold had only one watchwher, but what they lacked in numbers, the wher made up for with skill. Alianar was on hand in the mines personally on a day when the watchwher sensed instability in the mineshaft and saved the lives of nine people, including Alianar and his father. Alianar knew he could grow into a decent miner, as his father and two of his brothers would, but there were better options he could choose, ones for which he might be better suited.

It's no surprise, then, that Alianar would want to thrive in the minecraft that he grew up around and do so in a way that could benefit those around him. For him, there has never been the desire of dragons: there have only been whers.

At just barely 15 Turns, Alianar went to Benden Weyr to begin his training. For over a Turn and a half, he has been learning the Craft and keeping his ears open for news of potential eggs for those apprentices ready to become journeymen.

Description: Light skinned with hazel eyes, Alianar's looks lend themselves to comments of him preferring the company of men to that of women. It's not his features-- a fairly large nose, full but sharply sculpted lips, strong jaw-- it's the fact that his eyes are large and long-lashed, his skin fair, and his stature short. At 16, he's still only 5' 6", but he constantly hopes for more growth and will eventually get his wish, though he'll always be average height for a man at best. His hair is, suitably for a miner, brown, but dark enough that dirt shows up all too readily in it when he's been working. His hands are perpetually dirty, whether it's from the mines, sorting what the miners have gotten from the earth, or even helping his mother clean the house.

Personality: Alianar's personality plays into why he's not interested in dragonriding as much as his history does. Frankly, he's simply too shy. He doesn't want the prestige of dragonriders, doesn't want to fly away and get so far from the ground he's walked on and under all his life. That would draw too much attention to him and take him too far from the things he loved. He's not the type to speak his mind or even pursue friendships without someone else opening a clear path for him first. If he saw danger, he would speak up, but otherwise don't count on him pushing himself on you. It's not that he isn't friendly. He just won't make the first move, won't continue the conversation if you aren't encouraging him to talk, and won't be happy participating in conversations about topics that make him uncomfortable (most probably anything outside of conventionally accepted norms. He did grow up in a small hold, after all.). He'll just avoid those issues rather than taking a stance on them. He's happy to talk about his family and mining if someone asks, or any other topic he's comfortable with, but he only shares himself if someone else asks him.

He's very good with kids, and doesn't mind listening to them babble even if he can't understand what the littlest ones are talking about most of the time. He isn't old enough to think of it yet, but at some point in the future he will want to get married and have several children of his own. He would put himself into harm's way to protect a child, but if it's a person threatening them he wouldn't "stand up" to them. Just make sure the children were behind him or do something to distract the threat and have it focus its attention on him. He knows that children and whers don't mix, but he's hoping that his will be well-trained enough that chance meetings between his future wher and any future children he interacts with won't result in a mauling.

It isn't likely that he would sing with others around, but Alianar also has a passable tenor voice that he uses mostly to entertain children and sing songs that have caught his ear-- under his breath, of course. He knows he's no harper and like with any skills not involving the minecraft or wherhandling, he'll downplay even the smallest competence at them. The only things he knows he's good at are mining and-- he hopes-- wherhandling. Those he can tell you he is good at with a straight face and complete modesty. He's a conscientious worker, devoted to learning the right way to do things and following his teachers' instructions as closely as possible. He wants to learn and help his hold, and to do that he has to utilize what he's been told all his life: you respect and obey your elders. Maybe when he gets a little older and more competent with his skills he'll be less likely to follow like a sheep, but despite how he does feel confident in who he is and the things he knows he does well, he'll always let someone more competent take the lead in situations outside his small sphere of knowledge (and that includes social situations).

Other:

Alianar sat watching his egg basking in the light of the fire it was set near. He knew that those who were still waiting on their whers were doing the same as he was, refusing to leave their rooms for longer than a few minutes at a time to bathe lest their egg start hatching while they were gone. A few had already had their eggs hatch, at varying points between 5 days and now. All Alianar could think about was that he turned 17 in exactly a week. If his wher hatched between now and then-- and judging from the fact that the eggs had been only a week from hatching when they got them, he thought it might-- it would be a fantastic birthday gift.

The egg rocked.

Alianar blinked, almost unsure, then leaned forward, eyes intently on his light-colored egg. It had been the lightest of the Clutch, as he'd wondered when he first got a good look at it. The egg rocked again and Alianar quickly got to his feet and ran to the dumbwaiter.

"I need blood porridge!" He shouted down the chute, and heard a faint answering reply. He returned his eyes to his egg, making sure it wasn't doing more than rocking, until he heard the porridge being sent up. The crack nearly made him drop the bucket, but he kept his hold on it and then took the second bucket in his other hand, lugging the heavy items over to the egg. He waited with his shaking egg to do something else, ignoring the strong smell of the porridge. He swallowed, trying not to worry about how long it was taking. It was all in his head. He'd been told whers all hatched at different rates. His partner would be fine.

The cracking sound from earlier repeated, though Alianar didn't see from where, so he reached out and turned the pot slightly. Several bits of eggshell flaked off onto the floor and Alianar quickly pulled the pot a bit away from the hearth. He didn't want his wher hatching in the wrong direction and tumbling into the fire. The movement seemed to still the egg for a moment, then suddenly it rocked with a fury, more egg shells flaking off from the cracked area until there was a hole big enough for a small muzzle to stick the barest tip out of. Alianar held his breath as it vanished back inside and a clawed toe stuck through the hole as the inhabitant scrabbled at the inside of the shell. A small grin began on his face as he watched the hole widen until the whole foot stuck out. It confirmed what Alianar had thought from the tip of muzzle. He'd seen the color correctly. His egg was a Blue.

The ferocious baby inside wasn't going to take no for an answer, though. He kicked at the egg while Alianar sat back and pulled one of the buckets closer. Baby whers had no teeth, but their claws could still do damage. Alianar watched a hind foot accidentally kick through the opposite side of the egg and get stuck while the baby inside continued to break off larger and larger chunks of shell on the side it had started on.

No kidding.

The egg stilled again, and then slowly, the hind foot wriggled and then disappeared back inside. Alianar hesitated, wondering what the baby was doing, before chunks of egg exploded away and the wher half-fell out of the shell. It let out an angry shriek and then struggled a bit, sliding the rest of the way out, but taking more of the traitorous shell prison with it. It turned on him with red eyes, clicking in irritation over the egg, the room it had just come into, and Alianar. Alianar immediately shoved the bucket under its face and the wher baby-- after a moment to catch the scent and realize Alianar was feeding him, not attacking him-- launched itself at the bucket and stuck its face into it. Alianar almost moved the bucket away, but the new journeymen had been told their whers wouldn't overfeed themselves, so Alianar had to hope that also meant they wouldn't suffocate themselves in their food either. He crooned deep in his throat as his Blue began savaging the bucket of porridge, letting out little clicks periodically as he watched him eat. The wher slowed, calming after the first taste of porridge, and ate at a more manageable rate, though it was making good headway on the food. The second bucket had been a good idea. The Blue periodically looked up at Alianar, sizing him up between mouthfuls. Alianar reached for the second bucket , dragging it over so that when the Blue looked up expectantly, Alianar immediately eased the bucket over to his wher and let out a gentle, soothing roll of his tongue. The trill didn't even seem to faze the Blue as he partook of his second bucket, though this one was studded with more watching of Alianar. That was good. It meant he was associating the food with the man. Alianar waited to see if he'd need to call for a third bucket, but half-way through the wher slowed, and by the time he was almost at the bottom he stopped entirely and backed away from the bucket, his face smeared with blood porridge.

Alianar drew the knife from his leg sheath and, after tensing himself against the pain, cut his forearm quickly and shallowly with the knife. He intended to go into mining and mining required Blooding yourself to your wher. Alianar had never considered if he would have Blooded himself if it wasn't a requirement; he didn't have the luxury, so why waste time wondering?

The wher-- whose eyes had subsided somewhat to an blue-orange mix-- eyed Alianar as the handler held out his forearm. One smell of his blood, though, had the Blue approaching, its eyes whirling a bit less frantically. Feeder. Good. Feeder gives food. Feeder gives blood.

The young wher cheerfully licked at the oozing cut, and then tried to fasten its toothless mouth onto Alianar's arm, tongue continuing to lave the cut. Alianar flexed so more blood would come out; he wanted to do this right, and he didn't know how much of a taste it took before the wher Bonded fully. The Blue took his time, then finally released Alianar's arm and licked at the blood porridge surrounding his mouth. Alianar, prepared for this, leaned over and took a rag from the hearth. With a firm grip he got his wher's lower muzzle and efficiently cleaned the squirming, but sated creature's face so the porridge wouldn't harden on overnight. Alianar moved the cloth aside under the Blue's watchful eye. He'd had plenty of time while he was eating to see the vibrant blue color of his wher and the darker blue stubs that would eventually become its spikes. Alianar smiled and let out a click that the Blue tilted its head at.

At the notice, Alianar let out another click followed by a trill and a click, with a vaguely questioning intonation.

"Name?" He asked. They hadn't been told how soon their whers would know their names after Blooding, but it couldn't hurt to ask. He made the questioning sound again. The Blue clicked curiously, then made a strange-sounding trill of its own that appeared to be its own version of a question sound. Alianar would have to learn that later.

Name? A voice asked, and Alianar nearly looked around for who had interrupted his bonding ceremony before he realized how young it sounded. Name. Name. The repetition was helping the Blue get its bearings, if Alianar was reading him right. It stood and walked over to him, pushing its nose against the cut on his forearm once before it looked up at him and clicked a few times. Alianarsk name.

It was a strong bond. The thought seemed detached from him as Alianarsk set its head on his leg and closed its eyes. Alianar stared at his Blue wher. His wher. Alianarsk was a full name bonding. The Blooding had worked quickly-- maybe because of how prolonged Alianarsk made it-- and well. Or maybe Alianarsk was just a wher who would have made a strong bond in general. Still, the Blooding had to have helped.

Alianarsk. Alianar beamed and ran the backs of his fingers down Alianarsk's side, making the Blue wiggle away from the touch as it tried to succumb to sleep. Alianar carefully moved his legs and shifted both himself and Alianarsk back until he was leaning against his bed for support. He didn't want to separate himself from Alianarsk yet. Alianarsk. My wher partner.