Kytara sat, her back against a boulder, as she watched the going-ons of the Weyr from afar. As usual she was scribbling away, recording everything she saw and thought. It was her way of expressing herself and being heard, no, more than that, it was her form of breathing. She glanced up, a stray strand of her sun bleached hair falling loose from where it was supposed to be bound. News of Malvren's very successful Hatching and Impression hadn't taken long at all to reach them. She felt a odd mix of warm happiness for the new pairs and a cold sad jealousy towards them. Since she was a child it had been her dream to Impress.
She brushed the hair away and resumed her writing, stopping only occasionally to give her hand a rest. She was disappointed, but it was only to be expected. After all, Impressions were a sense of baited breath and wonderment for all. But she was at Trine and the clutch had not been. The year was not yet out though and there was still plenty of time for Trine to get a clutch of their own. She could only hope.
With a wishful sigh she leaned back and looked around at the relatively quiet view.
