Welcome to Gaia! ::

Chores were part of every day life. They were done from the lowest-ranked, all the way up to the highest! Well, most people did chores. Kella was Weyrbred and had only experienced the camaraderie between Weyrfolk; she had never left Ista Weyr, and at fourteen turns, was perfectly content staying within the Weyr for the rest of her life. The young girl did not really know, or understand, that some people did not have to do chores~ and that those people were well-to-do, and highborn. Even if you were the child of the senior Weyrwoman and the Weyrleader, you still had to do chores!

Kella's delegated task today was not one of her favorite. It was repetitive and monotonous, as well as solitary. She was peeling vegetables. It gave her plenty of time to think, though most of her thoughts were negative. Kella hadn't been at the Gather; she'd been sick that day, shardit! But, the young girl had heard about the alleged fight, or at least, exchange of nasty words, between the rider and the holder. The girl scowled at the vegetable in her hand, pretending that it was the holder. "How dare you criticize us, when we're the ones who protect you from thread and stuff," Kella said. By 'us', and 'we', Kella meant weyrfolk in general~ non-riders, and riders. Despite the fact that she lacked a dragon, she still grouped everyone in the Weyr together into one, big, social group.

Kella glanced up from her peeling for a moment, wiping her forehead with her forearm. Even in the kitchens, carved right out of stone, it was warm! Kella spied a girl standing in the entryway, looking a tad confused and lost. "Need help?" Kella called to her; offering help to someone was a perfect way to shirk one's chores!

Kella gave Emori the quick once-over that she gave everyone, as if she could read a person, entirely, with one glance. Her suspicions were raised slightly when the girl (who looked older than her) asked for a drink. "You don't know where the cups are?" Kella blurted out, in disbelief. Was this girl Hold-bred? She had to be! Kella bristled at the thought; maybe she thought that dragonriders were the scum of Pern. Maybe she didn't even want to be in the Weyr, but had been forced here! Kella's mind raced and whirled with what-ifs, and could-bes. Jerking er thumb over her shoulder, Kella motioned to an area of the kitchen where cups and clay mugs were stacked for anyone's use. "They're there," she said, her voice monotonous and level. Without waiting to see if the girl thanked her, or even really needed a cup, Kella went back to peeling her vegetables. With renewed gusto.

Kella looked up from her peeling, not stopping the motions while she followed the girl around the kitchens with her eyes. Kella was not so sure about this one. She seemed... Kella did not know, but the girl seemed out of place. She had to be hold-bred! Then the girl spoke, and Kella's suspicions were confirmed. She was not from the Weyr! A triumphant gleam entered Kella's eyes, and she put the vegetable down on the counter top, the knife she was using to peel settled down right next to it.

"Not from the Weyr?" She repeated, pursing her lips. Kella was not the type to think anything through logically. The young girl assumed that the other girl was just like to other Holders, ungrateful and spiteful. But, Kella tried to keep the animosity out of her voice as best she could. "I'm Kella," she answered, picking up a vegetable and inspecting it. It was peeled, and just had to be washed, so Kella put it in the appropriate pile. "You are...?"

Was it weird for the Weyrs to talk the Hold's young, as candidates or fosterlings? Kella shook her head. "No, that's not weird," she assured the girl. The young girl remained quiet for another few moments, taking her time to peel another vegetable. When she was done, she looked over at Emori, furrowing her brows as the girl drank. Did she not know about what went on at the Gather? Kella shrugged. Judging by her calm, friendly nature, she probably didn't.

Kella sighed to herself and went back to work on the slowly shrinking pile of vegetables in front of her. The sooner she finished, the sooner she could shirk the rest of her chores for the day! The young girl whistled quietly to herself as she worked, occasionally stealing a glance at Emori. She offered a small smile and a curt nod at Emori's statement. "Yeah, you'll learn your way around sooner or later," she agreed.

Kella didn't mean to make Emori feel awkward or uncomfortable, but having been born and raised in the Weyr, Kella felt strong ties to Ista and its people. She felt personally attacked anytime she heard of any holder's ungrateful remarks, despite the fact that they were not directed at her. But the Weyr was her home, and its people were her family. How could she not get a little defensive? Kella was sure that Emori might feel defensive if anyone attacked the people at her Hold. "So, how long have you been here?" She asked suddenly, looking up and watching the other candidate while waiting for an answer.

Kella was struck by disbelief. Emori thought that visiting candidates would be treated like guests? The girl chuckled, and peeled one of the few remaining vegetables in her pile. "Hate to break it to ya, but everyone here works. Everyone has to do their fair share," she said, and looked straight at Emori. "What do ya mean by 'visiting' candidate, anyway? If you're a candidate here, you're thought of as a resident. A fulltime resident. As a candidate, you've gotta get used to tough work, 'cause if you impress, then you're gonna be doing a lot of hard work every day for the rest of your life," Kella pointed out smartly. She understood the logic behind the immense workload put on candidates. Riders didn't get to just sit back and relax once they impressed, taking care of a dragon was hard work. Plus, riders had duties they were obliged to~ whether it was playing messenger, doing sweep riding, or something related to a craft the rider might have been trained in.

Kella fought the urge to frown. Why wouldn't Emori want to stay at the Weyr as long as she could? Kella's entire life revolved around the Weyr; she held it, it's lifestyle, and it's residents in the highest regard. So the fact that Emori seemed eager to run back to her hold and previous life as soon as she could... Kella wondered why the girl was even standing. "You could have said no to being searched, you know," she said quietly, though her eyes were focused and hard.

Thankfully, Emori changed the subject. Kella poked at the pile of peeled vegetables with her knife and shrugged. "I doubt it. I don't really cook. I kinda mess things up a lot," the girl admitted with a giggle. "I'm not a good cook. I'm way too clumsy. I can't measure spices and stuff by pinch or dash. I'll put a whole fistful of somethin' in, and it'll taste awful," she teased herself and laughed, her mood and expression softening considerably. "What about you? Can you cook?"