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Heroe felt that she had a privlege to watch the mating flight, since she was a journeywoman harper. But she didn't want to watch anymore, the song would be the same, probaly different names... who knew? She walked into the Barracks and went to her bunk in the far back, placing her pack upon the foot of the bed and sitting in the middle. Her harper blue outfit was dusty upon the legs, from her climbing around the weyr. She had not seen her friends that she had met from the touching for weeks, "maybe they moved on..." she would murmur at times. She curled up at the head of her bed. "I wish I had someone to talk to..." she said softly.

Heroe jumped and bumped her head on the top bunk, she didn't realize there was anyone else in the room besides herself. After a moment of rubbing her head she looked over and saw keitha.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here." She said apologetically. "My name is Heroe, you're new around here aren't you?"

Kyra (who refused to be called by her ridiculously long name) strode into the barracks. She seemed to pay no heed to the other two females that occupied the barracks at the time, and all she did was bring her bag of stuff to the bed she deemed her own. The girl sat down on the bed, gently picking through her items with nothing but contempt showing on her face. Kyra was usually not one for organization, but many could get the idea as she pulled out clothing, folded it placed it down with others of its kind. The pants fell neatly on top of the pants, the shirts fell daintly on top of eachother, socks were bundled together to keep from being seperated. It was as if she had came here with considerable thought, as if she had doubt that being Searched was a good thing. There had been no doubt, only a few ties that had needed to be broken up.

Kyra was... had been an apprentice beastcrafter, and she figured that if she failed to Impress, she would return to her craft. Her craft had been her passion, and it was the only time it seemed like anyone was able to get her to do any work. Kyra was usually reluctant to hold chores, and to get her to help with anything was more of a chore than what you were trying to get her to do. Perhaps that was why her parents were so eager to get rid of her by apprenticing her somewhere, and they didn't even care to hear about how well she was doing. Kyra learned about every creature on Pern with so much vigor it shocked her Master. She paid close attention when learning to deal with sprains, how to tend to sick animals, and how to calm them down. No lesson had been waisted with her, for when it came to beastcraft, she was serious. When passion came into play, there was no slacking off for Kyra. At home Kyra had little of the passion she had when she helped deliver a calf into this world, or when she helped tend to an injured runnerbeast. Passion was the light to the end of her tunnel.

Yet, this passion had almost made her reluctant when coming to the Weyr. A bluerider had deemed her a suitable Candidate not a sevenday before now. Ariath was showing signs of rising, and Candidates were being gathered by the dozens. The more Candidates, the better choices the dragonets had. Kyra had taken the offer to come to Weyr into consideration, and bid the dragonrider to come back in a few days time. This was a matter she had to bring up with her Master, and surprisingly, her Master thought it the perfect opportunity for Kyra. "It's a great learning experience, if you don't Impress. You'll have a first hand account on dragons, and I see nothing wrong with that. Besides, I know every girl wants herself a dragon," her Master had said, eyes glittering with amusement. "If you want a dragon, go, there is no wrong in doing it." He had continued, and with her Master's confirmation, Kyra had came to Rias Weyr as a Candidate.

There came but the barest traces of a smile upon Kyra's face at the not-so-distant memory. This smile seemed to be the only change in her demeanor as she opened her trunk at the base of the cot and began to gently pile things in. The clothing went first, if only to pillow the few treasured accessories she had. Since coming here she had taken on a sense of order. Everything she did was did so in a careful manner. She didn't want to make mistakes, though if those mistakes came Kyra would simply accept them. She was a Candidate, and she had to be obedient if she wanted to remain here.

"That means not getting into any brawls," she whispered to herself with humor. Kyra had been known for a temper back at her hold, and the temper only died down when she was back at her beastcraftery, and now it seemed to have almost disappeared with this restrain she was putting on herself. Kyra would not let others get the better of her, and she would not let her temper show nor would she insult anyone. She knew this was going to be just a little difficult... Just because she was Kyra, and she could not change herself for the sake of others. Trouble had been her main game back home, but for now, that game would have to be on hold until she either Impressed, or was sent back home due to being too old of age to Impress.

"But, I'll Impress," she told herself, and talking to herself seemed to sound better than talking to the other two girls, it seemed to Kyra. "I wont have any doubts on this." She shut the lid to her trunk, the slight smile until now having remained on her face. Only then did her attention turn to the other two girls, and with a curt nod, she simply greeted them. "Hello." If they required more of her, she would give them what they wanted.

After waiting for quite awhile, Keitha got annoyed at the uncomfortable silence and flopped back over on her bunk, tugging out the dragon carving she'd been working on before she left the Healer Hall. She hadn't worked on it since, and this was as good a time as any. She pulled out her belt knife and paused, deciding what to do.

The general shape had already been formed, and the tail and hind legs were complete. After some consideration, Keitha decided to work on the main body. She was out of practice, so she'd leave the delicate wings and the detailed head for later.

Caleten was really getting frustrated, she needed a map of the blasted wryer! Dem'or seemed to love the running up and down stairs and speed walking though the hall ways. He had started to grow a bit since she had him and she had wised to be out of the wryer before that happened. Hitting her bed, she stood up and started to walk towards the door again.

Dem'or raised his head when he heard the noise Caleten made when she hit the bed. Watching her walk away, he whined.

Stopping, Caleten turned and looked to her puppy, "Come, Dem'or, I wouldn't leave you behind." Patting her leg, she called the puppy over and became even more aware of her threadbare clothing. She really need more. To day, she'd put even more effort into finding that weaver hall she hoped they had. Or at least the headwoman, for she believed that they had access to clothing. She could be wrong but at least the headwoman would know where she was to go to find some.

Dem'or came when she told him to, trotting with his head and tail up high.