Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ghilani blinked owlishly at Ennrik for a moment, but rather then add a gaping jaw to the equation, he chose to ignore the bizarre almost-compliment. Weyrs were definitely strange places...

That, and he was saved from further comment by the interruption of another boy. He hadn't really been paying attention to directly in front of him, so it wasn't all that big of a surprise to the young smith that he had almost run right into someone. Or rather, he thought he would have if the kid hadn't broken his train of thought. Still, the boy's immediate jump into their conversation and sheer size did earn the lad a bit of a raised brow, but otherwise Lani's general half smile remained where it was. He had spent a good portion of his life amongst smithcrafters, so size and abruptness were not things he found terribly out of the ordinary.

However...


"Three hundred and seventy five..." He quoted, releasing a low whistle of appreciation at the number. "That is actually quite staggering..." He continued thoughtfully, sparing a glance around despite their current location. Naturally, with nothing but stone too look at, he brought his wandering thoughts back to his companions in time to introduce himself after Ennrik did.

"I'm a completely clueless candidate, but I usually go by Ghilani." He said with a wide grin, having no issue with his own short comings. "And as such, I greatly appreciate that offer of yours Conomor." He added, adjusting his posture to one that was a bit more relaxed and open.

"And if Ennrik doesn't have any immediate questions, I'll start the fire with a pretty general one... what can we expect when the Hatching occurs? Is there a warning? Or is it like a smith hall safety drill.. all alarms at all hours?"

Ennrik had heard about the humming serving as warning, but he wondered if the humming was like birthing contractions, and grew more more intense the closer the impending Hatching drew. A small part of him wondered also if the humming formed any sort of harmony, or if it was more of a drone. He'd also heard that there were ceremonial robes candidates were expected to wear, though he had yet to see these robes. He'd been a bit neglected, apparently, though not so badly as Ghilani had been. He'd at least been walked to the dormitory by someone associated with the Weyr.

"Why aren't you permitted to wear shoes?" he asked.

He assumed it was some sort of ritual thing, because he couldn't figure out a logical reason to ask candidates to burn their feet, possibly severely, depending on how long a Hatching took. He had occasionally burned his feet on the hot stones which paved portions of the way between Harper Hall and Fort, as well as the occasional pavement that occurred in his home hold, and it had been an unpleasant experience. Maybe something about the pain appealed to the dragons, and it was some sort of ritual endurance thing.

Conomor grinned and shrugged eloquently. "Tradition? Test of mettle? I'm not really sure to be honest; it's just something that is, I'd never thought to question it. Perhaps it's to stay with the theme of purity and simplicity of the Candidate robes or something." Strange, the perspective people from outside the Weyr could bring. The combining of cultures, norms and knowledge was no doubt one of the things that made a wing strong. The bigger the mix of skills and life experiences you had the better.

"So where are you two from then?" he asked, glancing between the two older boys, the two young men rather. He might still be on the cusp between boy and man, but these two were almost certainly past it, in the minds of others if not in their own minds. Well, maybe not in the minds of the elders, but the elders didn't think anyone was an adult unless their hair was grey or white.

Ghilani had indeed waited for Ennrik to speak first, and nodded a bit to himself as if what the older boy was saying somehow made perfect sense. In reality, he was just saving the information as he always did. A long time ago he had figured that people noticed when someone else remembered details about them, and particularly their past, that showed that he not only listened to the speaker, but cared to some extent as well. From what he gathered, Weyrfolk were fairly close, and if Conomor were an example of the norm, decent and helpful people to boot. Ghilani's habit of picking up on the emotional side of things would suit him well in this type of environment, especially if he got himself on the good side of as many people as possible. Well, that was the plan anyway.

"I was raised in the smithcrafthall here on Ista, " and he paused to hold up his hands cheerfully, "not that you'd know by the lack of calluses." He added with another grin. Like Ennrik, he didn't have much reason to be proud of ashamed of where he came from. People often had strange stereotypes about the Smiths (ranging anywhere from hidebound woodcutters to overly enthusiastic technicians) and Ghilani did not really fit anywhere with them. The Starsmiths had been a close match, but, well, recent events had put THAT particular dream into stark perspective.

Listening to Ghilani, Ennrik had to hide his surprise. The young man hadn't struck him as a smith. He'd not met many of them outside of Gathers, but the ones he had met had been large, brawny types who were deceptively quick to deliver stinging slaps to youths caught fingering their wares with suspicious expressions. There had been one man in his hold who knew something of smithing, but he, like Ennrik's father, had never been formally trained in the craft, and had simply gleaned what he could from the former smith, who had been trained, but was of no particular skill.

He felt he could probably relate to Ghilani, though, as they'd both spent their formative years in a crafthall. Of course, Ennrik knew the Harpers and the Smiths had different values and skill sets, but the environment between the Halls had to be more similar than Hall was to Hold. It was unusual that he had managed to grow up among smiths and avoid acquiring the calluses that marked most smiths' hands. He'd only said he was raised there, though. So perhaps he was the child of a smith, but had not chosen to follow in his parent's profession.

In response to Conomor's question, Ennrik nodded. This seemed like an excellent opportunity to get back to the dormitory without getting lost. Providing, of course, that Conomor planned to go with them. Otherwise, he supposed he could find his way. He'd been doing well enough so far.

"Were you going that way, too?"

Conomor smiled and nodded at Ghilani . "Thanks, I'd appreciate that, and yes I was off to the dormitory; need a change of shirt." Chuckling slightly, he shook his head at Ghilani's words. "I've seen too many hapless people left to fend for themselves. I don't know what the riders think they're doing just abandoning people like that. Perhaps it's some sort of joke we'll be let in on if we Impress." If. He really hoped he did. Too many times now he'd missed his chance, far too many.

"It's only a couple of weeks now until the Touching if I'm right," Conomor added after a moment as he made another turn towards the dormitories. "I can't wait for that; I've managed to get a glance at the eggs already and they look incredible." Of course, all dragon eggs looked incredible but these were more incredible. He might actually get to Impress one of these if his luck didn't turn sour again.

Operating in a state of confusion himself, Ghilani could sympathize with Ennrik. Between suddenly learning that prospective candidates could actually get a look at the eggs before the Hatching, and maybe even touch them, he was a little bewildered. If queen dragons were anything at all like the tunnel snake and wild queen firelizard mothers he had heard off, they would not be the safest creatures to be around while brooding eggs. He did, however, suspect that the peeking was done by less the official means, and he smirked a little to himself. A place like this was certainly bound to have all sorts of cracks and crevices, and it would only take one inquisitive weyrchild to find the special one that looked into the Hatching Sands.

"A Touching, may I hazard a guess that it is where we are allowed to touch the eggs?" He hoped he wasn't too far off, but it seemed like a logical assumption. Conomor's word choice was interesting in describing these particular eggs, so he paid attention while the younger boy answered Ennrik.

All right, so the Touching was just as self-explanatory as Ghilani had proposed, but Ennrik didn't allow himself to feel any more frustrated. There was no way he could have known in advance what Conomor referred to when he mentioned these things. His upbringing had left much to be desired when it came to dragons and Weyrs. He had to keep reminding himself of this fact.

"That seems like a sensible idea, familiarizing the Candidates with the eggs, and I suppose vice versa."

It hadn't even occurred to him to pick one egg over another based on size, though it seemed a practical way to do things, now that he thought about it. Bronzes were larger, so it seemed reasonable that their eggs would be larger, and anyone who hoped of Impressing a metallic dragon would, naturally try to form some sort of connection with a likely-looking egg. He couldn't really see himself riding a bronze dragon. He couldn't really see himself riding a dragon, truthfully.

"I don't think I'd like to be shouted at by the queen. I hear those are pretty big," he said dryly. "And so, though the offer is appreciated, I will decline your generous offer to share the location of the cracks. I can't imagine that a creature as clever and empathic as a queen dragon isn't at some level aware of being spied on."