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Close to the heart of the Gather are the Merchants. Their stands line the walkways, pressing up close to the dancing square and wine tents. The merchants call out their wares with seductive and loud voices, advising you that you need this dress, that this belt suits you, that this bubbly pie will fill your stomach. Though this isn't the largest Gather, there is plenty available to buy, and the stands fill both sides of the narrow dirt paths. You can buy most anything your heart desires, but clothing seems to be the primary wares.

Towards the middle of the day, when the heat rises, many of the merchants will close down their stands for an hour or two to nap and rest, or to grab something to eat. They don't leave things unguarded though, so I don't suggest it's worth the effort.

Ah, a Gather. Riordan took in the holiday as he slowly strolled about the various stands. He paused a time or two to check out some of the wares, not buying anything this early on. He wanted to check out what they all had for sale. No point in buying a belt just to find one he liked better for a lower price elsewhere.

The boy passed over some of the stands, which sold things like instruments and tools. He was more interested in the cloth and clothing. Perhaps if he got some cloth, one of the women of the Weyr could help him fashion something out of it. Perhaps a nice tunic.

He stopped at one of the stands and looked at a piece of cloth in green. The vendor happily remarked on how it matched the boy's eyes and would look wonderful on him. Riordan smiled. "Yes, but isn't wearing green bad luck?" The vendor stumbled for words for a moment and the boy took the opportunity to move onwards.

So far all he had bought was a large meat roll. There was plenty more to be had, but he was in no hurry to grab anything. He already had brand new clothes, intended for the feast after the hatching but worn now on impulse. He was going to have to get used to looking smart sometimes if he successfully impressed, and both his blood parents and his foster mother had commented on how good he looked. As a rule, Conomor had always believed that he didn't care what people thought of him, but it was at times like this that he remembered he only didn't care about negative opinions. Being praised was something almost everybody liked.

The air was full of voices, but as he passed a stall one in particular caught his attention. Conomor couldn't help but pause and chuckle softly to himself; he recognized the youth who had spoken, and thought he recalled his name... Rior-something? He'd never spoken to the curly-haired youth, but given that they were both Candidates now it seemed as good a time as any.

"You make a good point there," the dark-eyed youth said with a smile, "I'm Conomor, glad to meet you." Who knew, they two might end up as wingmates in the future. If he could cultivate an amicable acquaintance it would be very useful, and of course there was the fact that he, like pretty much everyone else in the world, liked to have friends.

One glass of wine wouldn't get someone drunk, right? M'zaji didn't think so. Despite the fact he'd told his blue he wouldn't become totally inebriated, the bluerider saw no reason why he couldn't have a glass of wine, or two if he really wanted to. He had stopped off to purchase a glass of a crisp, but fruit white wine that was refreshing and awakening. He now found himself meandering up and down the aisles between stalls once more, warm hazel eyes looking over, and appreciating, the well-made products offered for sale.

M'zaji fingered the marks-pouch tucked safely between his stomach and the waistband of his pants, and found it secure. A smile spread across his face, and he found himself in an uncharacteristically cheery mood. Maybe he should have been paying attention to where he was walking rather than staring across the aisle at a pair of particularly well-crafted wherhide boots (and they looked like they were just the right size, too!). Seryes may have almost walked into M'zaji, but the bluerider completed the gaffe and bumped into the Wher handler, the arm holding his wineglass jostled enough so that the liquid sloshed out and spilled down the front of his Gather tunic. "Oh, shards!" He cursed, his face screwed into frustration~ mostly with himself, for being absent-minded and clumsy. "I'm so sorry," he apologized hastily, looking up and meeting Seryes gaze. He hoped that he hadn't spilled any wine on her!

A nearby journeyman, trying to sells various instruments and pieces made by others in his craft, saw the rider's predicament and offered a damp cloth to try and wipe off most of the wine. M'zaji, being the polite rider, offered the cloth to Seryes first. "Here, it was totally my fault," he argued gently. "I wasn't watching where I was going either," the bluerider admitted as a slow blush crept up his neck and into his cheeks. His warm, hazel eyes avoided meeting Seryes' directly; he busied himself fussing over his wine-stained tunic. "Hmm, crowded? Oh, yeah! Gathers usually are," he said nonchalantly, lips pursed in thought. "I should probably just buy a new tunic," he conceded finally.

Riordan turned as someone spoke behind him and chuckled. "They'll tell you anything to get you to buy something." He looked the other boy up and down a bit. "I think I've seen you before... you're a Candidate at Ista, right?" Though he'd been there for about two Turns now, Riordan was finding out it was hard to remember everyone that lived there. And with several Candidates coming and going, it was often chaos. "I'm Riordan."

The boy gave a happy sigh. "Oh it's nice to have a day off."

Riordan chuckled. "Talk about some bad luck... stay away from green clothes!" He grinned. "Hope your luck changes as well. Especially with the two clutches there now." He'd been startled when the two golds had risen back to back, though it did mean more hatchlings... more chances for him to Impress.

"Yeah... they run us around a lot." He meant it both literally and figuratively. So many chores that they were busy from the time they were rousted out of bed until they were finally allowed to get back into bed at the end of the day. "Don't think it'll get any easier if we Impress, though."

The boy chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, true. And we'll be in training to be dragonriders and fly against Thread..." As if the mere mention of that foul organism could summon it, Riordan glanced upwards to the sky for a moment. Still clear and blue. With the threat of Thread hovering over them, it made him a bit jumpy. What if it fell before the Weyrs were ready?

"Yeah, hopefully we'll be allowed in soon to start touching the eggs." He looked forward to that part almost as much as the Hatching itself. Getting to see the eggs and touch them... it was a rather soothing experience. Plus, it meant that they were allowed out of chores to do it.

He shook his head in response to Conomor's question. "No... but there's a few that keep saying they'll Impress a bronze..." He made a wry face. Hearing that one weyrbrat harp on and on about how he'd Impress a bronze just like his father got old fast. "Whichever one comes to me is the one I want." Sure, he'd had daydreams of Impressing a bronze or a brown... what boy hadn't? But he kept those dreams to himself. "You got any idea?"