.:To Call or Not to Call?:.
Word of Benden's latest clutch spread across the Weyrs like a wildfire-- as did the news of their change in leadership. Unfortunately, from what Lifth had heard, the new Weyrleader was not Galvanth's. That meant that the bronze had failed to catch his gold.
Although he had only met the other twice, the blue was oddly disappointed by this discovery. Galvanth may have been a bit odd, but he was still kind and would have likely done well as the head Bronze.
Lifth had considered trying to contact him on a couple of occasions, but to what end? As he had grown, he had come to better appreciate the separation that existed between each distinct Weyr, and, other than perhaps for a couple of bronzes or gold when needed, dragons didn't general bespeak dragons in other Weyrs. At least that he had seen. Not to mention the fact that 1) the time of day was rather different between their two halves of the world, 2) the bronze was likely very busy right now, and 3) he himself was naught but a Weyrling, and a blue one at that. The entire situation was against their having contact.
These divisions... Perhaps they do more harm than good, he thought privately to himself, shifting a bit in his bed.
Why do the Weyrs quibble amongst one another rather than work together? Why do dragons of uncommon color seem to pose a threat to the older Weyrs? So many arguments over pointless matters... Somehow the blue didn't believe that Trine had seen the last of its troubles. Not just yet anyway.
