Welcome to Gaia! ::

She gave an approving nod as he mentioned volunteering. She was worried about leaving him with idle hands and mischief, but if he worked it would give her some relief. And if he failed at Standing again, maybe he would stay, continue his craft here. At the very least, she didn’t want him to return to his Hold while she was away at the Harper Hall.

She smirked. “Of course I’ll write.” She nodded at their firelizards lounging on the bed. “Tide’s a little silly in the head for carrying messages, but I think those two are pretty clever. We can start training them in no time.”

“He’s about the same size as Dew, you know. At least, I can’t see any difference.” Galeia tilted her head at the flitt, glad for the distraction from such gloomy topics as leaving and failing Impression. “I might be a little jealous,” she grinned. “He’s really a rather handsome silver.” At this, Dew roused enough to give a disparaging chirp, and she shook her head. “Vain thing. Don’t look at me that way. You and Tide keep me busy enough.” The bronze gave Winderick and the sliver firelizard in his lap an imperious look and settled down once more to sleep.

Galeia propped her arms behind her and leaned back on them. “I think she’s just what the weyr needs right now if there’s to be any change. There’s been a lot of atypicals recently since our dealings over with Trine, but our new crimson will hopefully force some of the wingleaders to deal with the issue instead of just leaving it to ‘tradition’.” She looked wryly across the room. She had spoken about atypicals before, and her belief that judging them by their newborn strength was ridiculous. It wasn’t a common line of thought in the weyr, but in sensibility, she took after her fostermother, who had worked among the holds before being Searched to the weyr. The woman hadn’t Impressed, but she’d seen a lot and made judgments in her own fashion. Being one of several foster children, Galeia hadn’t known her intimately, but she respected the woman. “And those tiny clutches our queen has been putting out might help stoke interest in crimson clutches eventually, though just accepting atypical colors would be good for now. They say the runts are as large and healthy as regular dragons once they mature, and we need dragons more than elitism now, especially since that mystweed might take some time to kick into effect.”

She nodded. “It’ll be interesting to see how they develop, especially when they get old enough to choose between flaming and clutching.” She gave a bit of a frown, wondering how much choice they would really have in the matter, but that was for later. “I think I’ll go get ready for the feast. You don’t have to go if you don’t want. It’s pretty tedious stuff.” She rose slowly, and stepped around Winderick to scoop up Dew. “You should rest anyway, take it easy until your chest feels better.”