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 Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2009 11:10 pm
Finally, finally she was sixteen Turns. ...not that it mattered much, really, but she liked to think that people saw her as more of an adult. Of course they didn't, thinking her more of an annoying and rebellious teen than much else, but that was alright, because she was. At least the latter, anyway. It was fine for now.
Her parents had given her the most beautiful set of clothes she'd ever laid eyes on, in one last desperate hope that they could bribe entice her to pick a craft, any craft (but hopefully theirs). She'd immediately shot down their hopes and stalked off, angry that they were still trying. ..she'd taken the clothes before making her exit, of course. Who wouldn't? They were beautiful.
She wasn't wearing them at the moment though, although she'd taken the time to hide them as well as she could, along with the other niceties her parents gifted her with on occasion to try and entice her to pick a craft when yelling didn't work. When would they ever learn? They'd have to give up eventually, right? Yes, they would eventually.
Oh well.
She sighed slightly as she carried a few supplies, mostly a wide assortment of fabrics but also some prepared skins and similar items, towards the shop her parents were in. Even though she wasn't in the craft, she still allowed herself to be roped into helping here and there. She had to cut them at least a little slack, didn't she? That was her idea, at any rate, and she'd stick to it. Besides, it was rather boring if she refused to do anything, and this at least alleviated some of it. ...shards, she really needed to find something better to do.
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Posted: Fri Jul 17, 2009 11:50 pm
Hmm… technically, C’ren supposed that F’sey ought to be here too for a purchase as important as this one. It was something for them, after all. But, then again, the Weyrlingmaster was always busy with his duties and such and he hated to have C’ren watch. So, really, it was no surprise that the younger Greenrider went off on his own occasionally and made a few purchases. In this case, a hammock.
A big hammock. It was just silly of them to continue sleeping in separate ones, at least on the nights when they weren’t sleeping in the furs. And those nights happened less and less as the season deepened and the weather heated up, much to C’ren’s disappointment and probably F’sey’s as well. The Greenrider made his way to a Weaver’s shop, knowing full and well that he was attracting attention. It made him a little uncomfortable, all of those eyes on him…
Or, more precisely, on the firelizard on his shoulder. Pyrite had grown into a truly beautiful creature, a miniature Gold dragon, perfect in every way. At least physically. In terms of behavior, she left something to be desired…
“Caw!” she announced, lounging across her owner’s shoulders. Her tail delicately wrapped around his neck slightly, letting all know that this was hers and hers alone. Well, there was also Ceylith, of course, but Pyrite preferred to ignore the Green. And Vox too, but the Blue was barely worth a glance. Either way, she was alone with C’ren now, since the dragon was waiting outside the walls of the Hold, surrounded by children, and Vox was back at the Weyr. “Cawww…”
“Yes, yes, Pyrite. We all know how gorgeous you are,” C’ren said wearily.
“Caaaaw.”
“Be quiet will you? I need to find a Weaver’s place or something.” Now a touch of tetchiness had entered his voice.
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Posted: Sat Jul 18, 2009 12:41 am
Ephylia was walking quite a ways ahead of the greenrider, and despite hearing the cawing and his words to the creature, she didn't bother to stop and turn around. Though... She turned into the doorway of her parents' shop and as she did, she chanced a quick glance down the hall at the man and nearly faltered. He had a firelizard. Better yet, she was a Gold firelizard. She'd heard of them, even seen a Green here and there or maybe a Blue, but that was it.
She only managed to squeeze in a moment or two of ogling before being jostled back to reality as her father called her name sharply, too busy hanging up several hammocks he'd finished to pull her into the room himself. "Oh, coming!" She called, heading into the door and relieving herself of her burden by dumping it on a random table. Of course, it wasn't an accident that she'd picked the worst table to dump it on; the one her mother was working on and had spread out all her necessary materials. She'd even had them nice and neat and organized, and Ephie had carelessly dumped the bunch of fabrics and skins on top of it, and she heard the satisfying clink of at least two tools hitting the stone floor.
Just because she'd agreed to bring the materials didn't mean she'd be helpful in finding somewhere vacant to put them. Her parents would never learn, would they?
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