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After finishing several hours spent peeling tubers, Renna was eager to slip away to some place quiet for a little relaxation. She picked through the halls, sliding past the far too numerous warm bodies, weaving deeper and deeper into the Weyr until she finally reached her desired location -- the Bowl. Of course, she couldn't go in, but she certainly could pick a nice spot to sit and watch. Having grown up in the Hold all her life, Renna only saw dragons in passing, and with her mother's crippling paranoia about them being complete death traps, Renna's contact with the companions that she dreamed of had been incredibly brief, never satisfying. Shards, she'd never even ridden on a dragon. Not once. Her mother said traveling was overrated anyway. Getting to the Weyr had been a needlessly complicated journey without the swift passage that a dragon could have given.

Oh well, her mother wasn't here now. No one could tell her not to watch the dragons as they dipped and preened in the spacious Bowl. The spot had become a favorite of Renna's, and she would creep up the wall, as she did now, and watch the dragons and their riders through a hole in the volcanic wall. It was a simple pleasure, but one that she loved. People who grew up in Weyrs didn't know what it was like to be kept from dragons your entire life. Just watching them, it was enough to sustain her ambitions.

She tossed one last glimpse down the long hall, and then squished down to make herself as small as possible. No reason to get caught snooping -- it might lead to an awkward situation that the young candidate would really prefer not to have. Renna was obsessed enough without everyone knowing of how she drooled. How could anyone respect her if she went all starry-eyed everytime a dragon approached? No, it wouldn't do, and if it took a daily secret-dragon-watching session to cure her of her immaturity, then she was willing to do it. Starting... now? Curling long, lanky limbs into a tight ball, Renna perched on the small seat near her borrowed window and watched, forming pictures in her mind of herself riding on the back of a great dragon one day -- a blur of colors and shapes whirring in her mind at a dizzying speed.

So lost in her little dragon-watching world, Renna was completely oblivious to the other candidate who stood so near, peeking through the windows just as she was. It was a failure of observation that would certainly annoy the girl later, but for now, she continued gazing out. A small green, the smallest dragon in the bowl today, dipped low to the ground, sending a ripple of warm arm blowing through the window. Renna's mouth formed an 'O' and she said, "Incredible..." The girl drew her leg closer to her chest, kicking a few rocks loose. They skittered to the ground in a flurry of clicks and clacks. Not so incognito.

Though Renna had spent many hours sitting on her little perch, she had not yet eroded the rock enough to make a perfectly comfortable mold for her to fit in. Long story short -- it made her butt hurt and required much repositioning in a single dragon-watching session.

Wiggling, she struggled to adjust and readjust, tugging her long, awkward legs this way and that. Shards, it was no use. Breaking her eyes away from the bowl, she hopped off the wall -- and landed directly next to another girl. "Wuh--" she said, stumbling backward in surprise. "W-what... Have you been here the whole time?" She didn't recognize the girl, but they appeared about the same age, even though the stranger was a few inches shorter and with quite the impressive scar. It was almost completely hidden behind a high collar, but it peeked out as it neared the girl's mouth. Immediately, Renna's eyes fell to the scar, how it cut up to the other girl's lip. Wow, intense. She'd have to hear that story, add it to her ever-growing collection of the people of the Weyr.

Still, first thing was first -- had this girl spotted Renna drooling over the dragons? The young candidate really really hated looking desperate and moony. She folded her arms protectively across her chest and waited for the stranger to speak.

"O...kay..." Renna dragged the words out, quirking an eyebrow at the stunned girl. She was jumpy -- skittish like a baby firelizard, honestly. Maybe more so. Some flits were more aggressive out of the shell than this girl. Very curious. Worthy of further investigation, most certainly. Renna loved a good story, always had. Besides, it put her at ease to see someone even more clueless than herself, gave her a little kick of superiority in a world she was still fighting to understand. Awesome.

"You're very jumpy," Renna said, sharing the thoughts in her head. She followed Ichta's eyes to the bowl. "Are you... afraid of dragons?" As a girl with a mother who hated them, Renna accepted the possibility that anyone -- even someone living at a Weyr -- could fear them.

The young candidate caught Ichta's wilting performance, and once more, her eyebrow rose. Firelizards -- really? More of a mini-beast capable of a lashing than a viable threat. It seemed amazing that this girl would fear a flit over a dragon. I mean... really? "Dragons can swoop out of the sky in a matter of seconds," Renna said, not forseeing the terror that her statement might bring out. "Dragons are definitely better than firelizards." To Renna, the added skill and power of a dragon was part of what made them so wonderful -- not that they might not be able to hide as well as a firelizard. Very strange. Dragons brought out hatred in Renna's mother, but it was still odd to see someone -- someone at a Weyr no less -- have a less than 100% positive outlook on them. After all, the Weyrs only really existed because of the dragons. It was a habitat built around their comfort and needs.

"I haven't met a dragon yet, not personally," she volunteered, hoping to put the girl a little more at ease. Then she shared something a little more unexpected. "Well, other than my father's dragon. I used to play with him when I was a baby, but I don't really remember it."

"Didn't a bunch of people just get mauled at the last Hatching?" Hm, classy. Renna did not find it tactless to state facts. Who could get mad at someone for stating a fact? So she said it, with little thought behind the words, and quirked her head to the side. "Are you a candidate? Were you there?" Even better, keep prodding.

Renna didn't mind firelizards. A lot of people at Ista Hold had them, some from their wealth and some from sheer luck while walking along the sea shore. She never knew anyone to be so afraid of them though. They were... pets. "Have you been here long?" Keeping up a steady stream of information-pumping, Renna picked a piece of lint from her tunic, flickering her gaze between the bowl and Ichta.

Something about this girl made Renna a little nervous. Like one day she just might crack and go on a rampage throughout the Weyr. It was always the quiet ones, wasn't it? Of course, the girl's avoidance of elaborating on Renna's question only made Renna more curious. "You're acting a little strange, you know." She put a hand on her hip. What on all of Pern could make the girl this nervous about a single conversation? Renna wasn't exactly muscled or terribly imposing -- was she? "Am I scaring you? Because you seem really nervous. I mean, I don't think I'm scary. Am I scary?" Oh, lawdy.

Renna's eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. Was this girl about to start... crying? Oh, shards, she'd broken it! She'd broken it, and she hadn't even meant to. Tears really did not agree with Renna -- not her own, and not anyone else's. It made her stammer and say inappropriate things, but since questions appeared to be the cause of this girl's anguish, Renna did the one thing that she could think of -- she rambled. Rambled like the wind.

"Uh, so I'm Renna. It's nice to meet you. Sorry if I... you know, sorry. So, uh, I've never ridden on a dragon before -- that's pretty weird, right? I, uh, peel tubers all day in the kitchen. It makes my hands smell like... tubers. Which is weird because it reminds me of my mother, and of cooking with my mother. Which reminds me of being at home. But I'm not at home so then it just kind of feels weird. My mother's a Masterharper, which is kind of cool to some people, not me though. I mostly find it annoying. She's a bit overbearing, not like my grandfather, who always smells like leather, but I'm not around leather as much as I'm around tubers, which means I'm not reminded of my grandfather half as much as I'm reminded of my mother, which is really just too bad. But I pretty much always think about dragons." Pause, breath. "I'm a new candidate. Very new. I've never even been inside a Weyr until I got here."

Well. This certainly was awkward. Please stop crying, oh, sweet shards, please, please, please just don't cry.