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Today had turned out to be one of those days.

Another lesson had just ended, and Allende was rapidly becoming fed up with hearing the phrase 'rider of bronze _____th.' Igen Weyr history was like listening to someone recite the genealogy of a Lord Holder presumptive, and while she was struggling to see the point of driving such a prejudicial wedge between the Dragonfolk and the rest of Pern, the blatant favoritism given the riders of a certain color dragon, even among Weyrfolk, was mind boggling.

That, and there was the 'woman' thing.

As a female, she had become intimately acquainted with what was expected of her upon arrival. Being of the Holds, she was (at worst) a long shot for Impression and would be sent packing once she was too old, or (at best) a potential grandmother for a far future Bronzerider once her own sons and daughters had become fully indoctrinated Weyrfolk. Neither appealed to her, especially not with the free-spirited notions Ista Weyr had planted in her heart. She certainly pitied the women who lived here and knew nothing better, especially the gold- and greenriders who had dragons, but either had no power to change their situation, or were so blinded by power that they failed to do what they could to ease the burden on their fellow women. Oddly, she did hold a certain perverse joy in knowing that the former Istan goldrider Favan would hardly stand to have her time in the spotlight eclipsed by some man. If nothing else, hopefully Favan and her queen would stir up enough fuss to make sure the dust wouldn't settle for quite some time, leaving the rest of the transfers with a bit of a breather while the upper crust decided what to do with Favan.

Or that was her hope anyway. Allende still had to muddle through the lessons that taught her precious little of what she wanted to know, and a whole lot about who was important, and who she should listen too. The desert was a fascinating place, and it killed her curious inner self to have to sit like a dimglow while the Candidatemaster prattled on in political jargon.

Eventually sitting with a thump at an empty table in the Dining Hall, the taller holder girl drew her brown firelizard, Ranger, down from out of her hair and set him on the table where she could keep an eye on him while she ate. It was an irony that the food was so much better here in the middle of the desert, but then, Allende had fostered a newfound appreciation for the stark beauty of the rolling sand and jagged stone mountains. Bathed in moonlight, it was easy to forget how difficult Igen Weyr could be, and Alle was looking forward to taking a walk once the moon came up fully and she had finished her dinner.

Looking up, Alle smiled brightly at the other girl and gestured openly for her to sit. "Of course not! The more the merrier." She said, absently grabbing Ranger's tail when the little brown started to sniff his way, nose too table, towards the stranger. The action had become second nature to her, as had feeding the growing lizard some of the choicest bits of still bleeding meat she could find.

Tonight, however, Ranger would have to satisfy himself with some of Alle's stew. She was not in the mood to fight her way through the kitchens to locate some good freshly cut bits. Unlike Ista, Igen even had a bit of a hierarchy amongst the Lower Caverns, and as a recent transfer, she'd run into a few Weyr snobs already.

"I'm Allende, and this is Ranger. He tends to wander a bit, but I'll try too keep him out of your way." She added, moving her hand further up the squirming brown body to get a good grip around his rib cage so she could pick him up and put him on her lap.

Wriggling his way free, Ranger peeked up from Alle's lap to blink at Allia with wide eyes. Like his bonded, the little brown was insatiably curious, but Allende avoided a full out escape attempt by feeding him a few tidbits from her stew.

Content, for the moment, Alle let the lizard climb back on the table where he sat back on his haunches and ate.

"Allia? You wouldn't happen to be from Lemos would you?" She asked, half in jest, given their names, but half in earnestness. While she rarely gave in to the bouts of homesickness that other candidates complained about, Alle was beginning to miss seeing some sturdy Lemosian stock, like a good stand of hardwoods.