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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 12:03 pm
When Orlina finished her Candidate chores early, the woman running the kitchens during that shift had just found other ways to keep Orlina's hands occupied. Orlina had been running small errands and quietly staying out from under foot (for the most part) at the weyr her entire life. Creche to fosterhome, the drudges and Lower Caverns occupants all knew her distinctive pixie face, her beaming and amiable demeanor, and her penchant for finding trouble to get herself into. They were happier when she was safely doing something under their watchful eye, since she wasn't one of the children who would whine about it. Orlina, for her part, was determined to be good now that she was a Candidate, for however long that was possible. Once, when she got in fights or any kind of semi-dangerous trouble, it would be her mother that punished her and found a way for her to make up for her indiscretions. Now, it would be the Candidate Master, and that came with the risk of losing her Candidacy, which she didn't want to jeopardize in the slightest.
So it was with a weariness born of having been worked hard that Orlina left the kitchens and made her way back towards the Barracks. Several other Candidates past her when she got closer to the Barracks level-- either on their way to a chore or rushing back from one-- and she said hellos as necessary with bright smiles for all of them. Two weeks in and she already knew all of her fellow Candidates. Well, she thought she did, she realized as she caught sight of the girl pacing down the hallway towards her.
The girl walking down the hallway toward her definitely had an unfamiliar face, and Orlina found herself staring. She had grown up in the weyr and thought she knew everyone, including those who came in from the Holds and took up residence. The neat, clean knots on the girl's shoulder said she was a Candidate, like Orlina. Oh, she was very new, then. Orlina would definitely have recognized her, weyrborn or not, if she had been in the weyr for longer than a day or two. Orlina smiled when the older girl looked her way, in case their eyes met. She looked as if she was Orothor's age or maybe a Turn older. Definitely older than Orlina's recently achieved 12 Turns.
"Hello."
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 3:00 pm
The girl was not very tall, standing only about five' foot one or two at most and hardly a hands breath more. From the way she held herself though the girl looked to be around sixteen with a compact petite build framed by a wild wavy mane of red hair. Her skin was a healthy peach color and the more delicate boning in Cyrci's face framed a pair of hazel gold eyes that caught Orlina's as she approached.
"Pardon. Do you know the way back to the candidate barracks?" Cyrci pausing in her path asked the girl, a slight rolling clicking accent to her words as she fixed Orlina with her gaze. In truth the newer girl had not been given much time to settle in and had found herself thrown a dragon back just that morning to come back to the Weyr to stow her bag under her new bunk after the others had left. Only to then be ushered out to be shown and put through the chore routines.
Though Cyrci would admit it was extremely efficient she was now having a bit of trouble navigating the large, very bright, very massive, and very busy Weyr. At least she got to see dragons. Oh dragons. . .and Cyrci let out a mental sigh of longing. There were certainly no shortage of them about and oh how she loved seeing them glide and turn. She'd had a perfect few of the beach until she'd had to go down into the supply hold and help stack baskets and boxes and organize whatever else was asked of her.
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:03 pm
The turned-about feeling was normal, so Orlina fielded the inquiry with grace-- and a certain amount of pleasure. Having things to do made introductions so much easier, even if it was unfortunate that the girl was so new that she didn't realize she was walking away from the direction of the Barracks. Definitely her first day. She had a fascinating kind of accent, too. Where was she from? Orlina hadn't heard a voice like hers before, which meant either she was one of the few who had transferred from the Northern Continent and been lucky enough to be Searched in their new weyr or it she just had an odd accent all her own.
The vibrant hazel shade of Cyrci's eyes almost mirrored Orlina's own, but other than that-- and their equally petite forms-- the older girl was practically Orlina's physical opposite where it came to coloring. Where Cyrci was pale, Orlina was a deep brown; where Cyrci's hair was vibrant red, Orlina's was black as roofing pitch. However, Orlina likely could have been Cyrci's shadow, were she a few years older (and if she stopped growing).
"Oh, certainly! I'm on my way back there now. We can walk together, if you'd like." Although her voice was soft, Orlina gestured ahead of herself with a welcoming smile and then offered a polite hand to the red-head. "I'm Orlina, by the way. We'll be Barracksmates until one or both of us Impresses." She shrugged her shoulder slightly at the girl to emphasize the Candidate knots she was wearing.
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Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:45 pm
"Thank you. . ." The girl spoke finishing her words with an odd clicking whirl sound that almost mimicked a sort of rattled purring with her joy. Indeed her accent was extremely strange, almost sounding like another language all together as the girl fell into step beside Orlina with a broad smile. It wasn't obvious at first, not unless you paid close attention, but there was something somewhat off about the way the girl moved. It wasn't jerky or uncharacteristic. Nothing blatantly gave it away, but there was something unnerving about her gait. Cyrci held herself with a quiet assured air, not proud or over confident, but with a certain distinct air of command to her. A sort of peaceful alertness about her being as she took in Orlina's words her hazel gold eyes appearing to absorb every detail.
Then glancing at the girls feet it would become clear. Cyrci walked solely on the pads of her feet, making it a point to not let the heels of her boots touch the ground the same way a wher or a dancer would walk giving her gait a sort of odd uncanny liquid spring.
"My name is Cyrci. I come from Engova Hold from the Wher dens. It is good to meet you Orlina. I look forward to sharing a barrack with you. Tell me if you will. Do you know much about dragons? Are they as alike to the wher's as I have heard?" Cyrci asked cocking her head slightly to the side in a gesture of curiosity, her face open and attentive her voice carrying that same sort of rolling whirling accent,
"I am certain you'll impress Orlina. I've seen atypicals from a distance and heard that different colors call this place home? What are they like?" She inquired gold eyes bright with questions and a smile playing across her lips as she reached her own hand up to toy with the new candidate knots she had traded for her own Handler ones.
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Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 11:58 am
Whers! That was why those weird sounds sounded oddly familiar! It wasn't an accent; she was just mixing her human speech with wher speech. Which was a little strange, but Orlina just wrote it off as being a quirk. There were lots of quirks at the weyr, although... none like that, she had to admit. Maybe there was a way that could help them adventure into the wher dens--
Her planning was interrupted by Cyrci's questions. Orlina gave her time to ask all of them, and then considered the first question for a long moment.
"Well, I haven't had much to do with the whers," Orlina admitted, but she appeared to still be pondering Cyrci's questions. "Yes, I suppose dragons and whers are a bit alike, though dragons are bigger and-- well, actually, they both 'speak' to their partners, don't they?" Orlina paused. "Dragons speak more like humans, though, but whers have their own language, too, I suppose. They're alike like that and with the Rising and everything. Dragons, though, fly and can carry their partners with them when they're older and can have full conversations with their life-partners as if you and I were speaking."
Although she hadn't yet addressed the atypicals questions, she let Cyrci absorb the answers she had already given and then asked curiously, "Do you always talk like that?" That was rude, her mother would say, so Orlina was quick to add, "With the wher speech mixed in, I mean. I've never heard anything like it." Again, not that she had ever spent much time with wherhandlers. Maybe they were all like that.
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Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 12:33 pm
Cyrci let out the same sort of curious sound, a sort of low clicking whirl in the back of throat like the tick tick tick of some the smithcrafted timepieces as she listened. It was an oddly disarming sound, soft and thoughtful.
"Whers are very verbal and prefer to vocalize. Some have even created their own language with their handlers with certain keywords though most have the same set of base sounds to mean certain things. They can on the other hand hold sparse mental conversations and show pictures and other things to their bonded using their minds. I don't have a wher so I don't know for sure, but my brother who's is a senior journeyman told me that if talking to a firelizard is like talking to a two turn year old child then talking to a wher once they're full grown is like talking to a five or six year old depending on the wher's intelligence. I would assume that if Dragons are the next step up then it'd be like talking to a teen or adult human conversation wise." Cyrci replied staring up at the ceiling for a moment gold eyes distant in thought a sort of unconscious rumbling coming from her throat. It wasn't till Orlina spoke again that she snapped out of it turning her head to observe the other girl once again.
For a moment Cyrci paused a puzzled look on her face, her eyes blinking in confusion before she broke into a wide grin. "Oh! To be honest Orlina I don't even realize I'm doing it half the time actually." She explained with a slight click of her tongue at the end giving the girl a grin.
"Most handlers tend to chirrup a little. You see my brother was apprenticed when I was very little and with my mother running the tavern on her own after my father died I was often times sent up to the dens with him. The older master at the time had a soft spot for little ones so he let me stick around. There weren't many young apprentices there and even when I got older and apprenticed myself I was still the youngest of the batch so I rarely had someone to talk to so I picked up wher speech." She explained then made a low rumbling croon in the back of her throat, a low tender sound.
"See that one is a soothing call most mother whers would use to calm their hatchlings. The chirruping click I was doing before while you were talking is sort of a base thinking sound. Most whers only do it when observing something new, but it's also a harmless sound that calms them. Whers are much less likely to harm you if you talk to them you see. With the return of thread we had many older men from caravans coming in to apprentice to get a watch wher for their trading caravans. Since trading caravans have more people and most of all children the Masters needed to associate the younger whers with more people for training so I often spent my free time when I was little playing with them since there was no one else my own age and the Master greatly encouraged it. That and I've always done better with watch and mining whers then I have with the holders. I could teach you a bit of wher speech as well if you'd like?" Cyrci explained with a bright smile and a burbling chirrup of happiness her head cocked slightly making her smile open and somewhat lopsided.
"As a matter of fact I'll trade you. Information on whers for that information on dragons and atypicals." She spoke her open smile turning into more of a solemn tight lipped grin. Her gaze seemed to be calculating Orlina like a craftsmen sizing up the worth of a mark or in her case a wherhandler sizing up the size of an egg.
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Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 3:17 pm
Every new bit of information about Cyrci's life was fascinating, because it was so different from Orlina's experiences in the weyr. She didn't mind Cyrci explaining it in detail at all, in the same way she didn't mind having the different sounds explained to her. It sounded complicated and fun-- and, most importantly, something that was entirely new for Orlina to learn. The possibilities were endless. Orlina studied Cyrci in return when the older girl sized her up, but she was smiling. She liked this new girl.
"I would love to learn how to speak wher," Orlina gushed excitedly. "And learn more about them, of course. It's a deal." She held out a hand for Cyrci to shake on it, then turned back to the task of not running into people as one of the boy Candidates slipped by her. "Where do you want me to start? You asked about atypical colors, which would be Black, Silvers and Crimsons. Crimsons are the only females of the bunch, and some of them can breed if they choose not to fight Thread. At some point in their weyrlinghood, the Crimson and her rider have to decide if they'll be fighting dragons, like Greens, or breeding dragons, like Golds. Crimsons have a lower chance of producing eggs, though, I think, but some pairs still like to try."
Orlina waved as one of the weyrbrat-turned-Candidate girls called out a greeting to her. The girl was only a half-Turn older than Orlina herself, so they had known each other for a long time, better than Orlina knew most of the other Candidates (though, with her disposition, that was quickly changing).
"Blacks and Silvers are considered males, but they don't have any interest in Flights or anything. No romantic drive, Mom said. The Candidates call it neuter, like the Whites. Oh, Whites are atypicals, too, but there's only been two in all of history, and the only one currently living is at Malvren. You probably won't see any of them here. Their mindsets tend to lean to one gender or another, but they're neuter too, I think. And small. They never get big enough to fight Thread. Blacks and Silvers can fight Thread, and I think Silvers are pretty good at it. Their flame supposedly lasts longer than other dragons, which is why so many of Malvren's Wingleaders are Silvers. Blacks and Silvers the same size as Blues and Bronzes when they get older, if they make it that long."
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Posted: Tue Nov 29, 2011 3:44 pm
Cyrci's grin broke out into a bubbling full throated laugh with the same purring under current to it as before at the Orlina's enthusiastic reply. It was rather pleasant having someone react positively towards her and her craft. Most of the hold girls were terrified between of Cyrci. They'd called her a wild girl and made up rumors bout how she'd gone feral and other spiteful little things. Cyrci had always loved firelizards and whers and from a young age she'd shown unusual aptitude for communicating and dealing with the creatures big and small. Seeing how easily a girl barely half their age could tame, play, and most of all survive being around what the hold girls had viewed as 'ferocious blood thirsty beasts' had scared them early on. Their ignorance isolating Cyrci from what female friends she might have made at her home hold outside her craft.
Not that she'd ever associate with anyone who only viewed whers as vicious beasts of burdens. The mere thought sickened her and the memory of their hateful words made her lip curl back in a silent snarl as she stared ahead. A few unlucky passerbys gave the two girls a wide birth at the rather dangerous look on Orlina's companions face. Shaking herself out of her thoughts she replaced the snarl with a smile worried that she might have offended her new friend, but when all the younger girl did was offer a hand to shake she took it with a lightened heart.
"Now I can't promise I can teach you to fluently speak wher speech. After all a lot of it varies from wher to wher and den to den, but I can show you different base sounds and motions they use to speak with and what they mean so if you get on the wrong side of one you should be all right. So long as you didn't try to stab it's handler." She added with a cheeky grin at her little joke. Who on earth would be foolish enough to try and stab a wherhandler? By the shell it was safer to go after a dragonrider in that respect then the patient caretakers hold, hall, and Weyr guardians.
Then settling into a light pace to match Orlina's own she listened to the younger girl. Cyrci's big gold eyes attentive and curious as the younger woman explained information on the atypicals for her. Such fascinating creatures dragons were and with a stab of jealousy she severely hoped that with this clutch she too would have one of the lovely creatures for her own and her as theirs.
"Now do forgive me if this is false information. I'm certain dragons attitudes vary as much as whers do, but I was led to believe that certain colors tended to lean towards certain attitudes in dragons. Like. . ." And she paused recalling the harper tales and one of the small diddies she had played upon her lap harp for her brothers handsome brown about a dragon of his same coloring.
"Like brown dragons are known to be steadfast and dependable and greens energetic and bright, or blues lighthearted and so on. Is that true? And if so does the same thing apply to the atypicals?" And then in her minds eye she recalled a dragon she'd seen when she'd first come between to the Weyr, a shimmering silver landing like liquid moonlight on the sand, a little darling black not far from it. A soft barely audible croon of pleasure echoed from her lips no louder then a sigh at the memory.
"The silvers and blacks. Tell me more about them please? I saw a couple the other day. The silver by the first shell was one of the most breath taking things I've ever seen in my life. Though I'll have to add in that I adored the little black too. Such marvelous creatures. I wish we had them in Wher variety, but I heard Atypicals like you mentioned don't always make it or make it for long. Are they weaker when they hatch? If so that would likely explain why we don't have any as whers. They likely wouldn't survive." She asked curious and now growing more open and talkative as time went though the rolling whirling clicking accent never left her tone. Then shaking her head she realized she was overdoing her chatter.
"What questions do you have about whers?"
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2011 11:16 am
"Well, I guess I would want to know what they're like. We don't spend much time with them, those of us who live in the Lower Caverns, anyway. I don't know the first thing about them, so anything is news to me. Well, other than they like the dark more than the light and a handler can rebond if their wher dies, and there's some kind of bonding level system. You can explain that, if you'd like, but I'll try to answer some of your questions first."
Orlina did her best to answer all of Cyrci's questions, trying to remember all of them considering the fast succession they came in. They would be at the Barracks before long, Orlina realized, but it looked as if they would be spending time for longer than that if she wanted all of those answered!
"Yes, atypicals are born weaker than other dragons. It takes a great deal of extra care and just plain luck for them to survive, although I don't remember the last time I heard of one dying, so maybe those days are past. They're definitely weaker, though, for a good portion of the time that they're young. They actually can't even break the shell on their own. At the end of the Clutch, when the other eggs have all hatched, the Weyrwoman has to crack the shells to see if there's a living atypical inside or not. I think that's why they don't have them as whers." Someone had said that in her hearing once, but Orlina didn't know why that was true. Just that it was. Maybe Cyrci, with her knowledge of whers, would understand that reasoning better than she. "There are atypical firelizards, though, and somehow I think most of them can break through their shells. I've never heard of someone breaking open an atypical flit egg before, but that might just be me. The only color atyp that doesn't occur in flits is Whites. Whites only seem to make it as dragons, and then, like I said, only once every hundred Turns or so."
She stopped slowed her steps as they reached the Barracks door. "And here we are. I can show you around the weyr later if you like, but it might be better if we were actually paying attention to where we were going then. I can explain the rest of your answers while we're here. Which bunk is yours?"
Once Cyrci directed her, Orlina skipped over to the bunk and dropped down with a bounce. "Silvers and Blacks. What did you want to know? They can pair with anyone, despite their gender or if they prefer boys or girls. I guess that ties into your personality question. There are, I guess, set personalities for certain colors, but they're all their own dragons. Each one is different in their own ways, and there are always exceptions. I think Greens tend to vary a lot. I've seen some that are always happy and polite to everyone, even strangers, and others that would take the head off of anyone but their rider, and that's not even when they were ready to Rise. If every dragon fit into a set mold based on their color, then only certain kinds of people would Impress. And we have a lot of variety in riders, so I can't imagine not having the same variety of dragons.
"Common belief, though? Golds are haughty and strong willed; Bronzes are haughty and kind of look down on the other colors except for Golds; Browns are friendly and happy, but still strong enough to be leaders; Blues are supposed to be loving and friendly and sweet; and Greens are supposed to be silly most of the time and proddy the rest of the time, but I don't think that's usually true. And the atypicals... well, it's hard to say, I think, since there are fewer of them than the normal colors. Silvers are kind of like Bronzes, but quieter, I think. They really don't flaunt themselves, for the most part, the way Bronzes do. Blacks are also kind of background watchers, but I don't know much about their personalities otherwise. And Crimsons are pretty much female Bronzes for temperament, although they're sized more like Browns. They tend to think they're tough and don't let the males push them around and use whatever tools they have at their disposal. Fighting Crimsons, anyway. I don't know about breeding Crimsons. Maybe they're supposed to be more like Golds, since they can lay eggs?"
She took a deep breath, as if realizing how much she had been talking, and smiled at Cyrci. "I didn't really answer what you wanted to know about Silvers and Blacks, did I? I don't know much about them, to be honest. We only have a handful of each at the weyr and I'm not close with any of the riders, not even my birthmother."
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2011 2:30 pm
Cyrci nodded when Orlina mentioned that she herself and the people of the lower caverns didn't exactly spend much time with whers. That was to be expected since the creatures tended to be nocturnal and dragons and humans leaned more towards the day.
"Well I'll start you off with as much info as I can give in one secession." She replied with a smile, falling quiet once Orlina began to explain about aytpicals. So they were born weaker, but from the look of the few she'd seen in the distance they appeared to be healthy and strong. That silver had been massive and for a moment she pondered the possibility of atypical whers. Yet deep in her heart she doubted the youngling would survive long. Normal whers when they were little tended to be tricky and were usually put to training right away. A wher that was weaker and couldn't train was a liability not to mention a possible target for other whers.
Then, much to her surprise they were back at the barracks, Cyrci recognizing a few things as they walked along. Maybe she wasn't completely hopeless navigating this place after all and would learn in time along with Orlina's help. Opening the door the two stepped inside as Cyrci turned giving a nod of thanks. "I most certainly couldn't have found my way back without you. Thank you and thank you for your offer to show me about the wher." She replied somewhat started at how quick the girl skipped over to her bunk when she pointed out the one that had her bag throw beneath it. Following at a slightly calmer pace she took a seat and pried her boots off to sit cross legged on the bunks surface and listen. Truthfully Cyrci was rather disappointed that Orlina didn't know much about the two colors, but was happy for the information she had been given, making it a point to carefully store it away in her mind for later use and musing.
"If it makes you feel better I'm not close to any riders either, but. . ." And she trailed off then her lips lifting into a smile as she poked Orlina. "I have a feeling I'm gonna get to know one." Cyrci finished with a bright happy grin and a whirling purr. Now on to whers.
"Now where to begin. Well I'll start with the colors. Like Dragons there are gold, bronze, brown, blue, and green whers. They also tend to follow the same sizing with Golds being the largest, bronzes right behind them, then brown and so on. Unlike Dragons any wher can run in a wher 'flight' to mate with the Queen thought typically bronzes win, but browns mate often and occasionally I've heard of the rare blue catching a Queen. From what I can tell personality wise the whers do not tend to be a certain way because they are a certain color though a Gold is still a gold and tends to act the Queen." She paused trying to figure out where to go from there, this must have been how Orlina felt when she'd asked her to just explain dragons with no real beginning point. After all there was so much to both dragons and whers that it was hard to know where to start.
"Anyway like dragons whers eyes change color with their mood though unlike dragons they tend to be very veyr vocal though that can vary. They tend to bond very strongly with their handler and view them with complete and utter adoration though I'm told this bond isn't as strong as one between dragon and rider. Unlike dragons though whers are very capable of killing and have no qualms about doing so if you're threatening their handlers or their home. To get a wher of your own you have to reach journeymen rank. Then when a Queen has a clutch you are put to her. You're supposed to bow and talk to her. Whers like people who talk to them more and if the Queen likes you she'll let you choose an egg. Wher eggs are shaped like dragons, but smaller with wrinkles and bumps on them. I haven't seen a wher clutch since I'm not old enough to be made journeymen so I don't know if you can tell a Queen wher egg from the others like they say you can with dragons." Cyrci explained with an embarrassed smile and if she was lucky she would impress a dragon and continue her streak of not seeing a wher clutch. Not that the idea of bonding to one had lost any of it's luster since she came to the Weyr, but the merest thought of sitting atop a proud dragon sent shivers down her spine. A clutch would be on the sands soon too she was told. A clutch that maybe held a dragon of her own.
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 2:03 pm
Had Orlina's skin not been so dark, the blush that flushed it at the pointed teasing would have been obvious. She didn't reply, other than her bashful smile, but let Cyrci continue with her explanation of whers and their habits. It helped to smooth past the compliment and gave Orlina more places to take their conversation.
"You spent so much time with the whers, though. I don't understand why you didn't get to try to Stand. You're older than me, and I thought we had some handlers who were your age. Does it have to be 'official' training or something?" Really, with the way Cyrci behaved it was hard to imagine that Cyrci had somehow been turned down or told she wasn't old enough for a wher partner when it looked to Orlina as if Cyrci was practically a wher herself. Maybe that was because Orlina didn't know whers well enough? Well, how could she if she didn't spend time with the wherhandlers?
That was an interesting idea and Orlina looked distracted. An idea was occurring to her, but it required a bit more planning. And then.. then she could ask Cyrci to help. It would be one of the biggest adventures she'd been on. Sure, whers were supposed to be dangerous, but they would be fine as long as handlers were around, right? Right. She just needed to figure out when and how...
"Why did you want a dragon rather than a wher? I mean, I know a lot of Hold boys talk about the dream of riding a dragon, but most of them haven't spent their lives being raised with a profession. Well, except the ones who are born into a family where their parents were in a profession, I guess, and those are Hall Searches, usually, which has nothing to do with any kind of dragon or wher-- lifepartner, you know?"
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2011 2:42 pm
Cyrci paused considering Orlina's words for a long moment. In truth she wasn't sure why she hadn't been put the eggs yet, but she had a few hunches. Rolling the different ideas over in her mind she stared out the window till finally after a moment of thought she turned back to Orlina.
"I can't tell you for sure exactly why I wasn't put to the egg yet. I can see how I having not impressed yet would beneficial to the master. I could act as a training tool and help socialize a lot of the whers. Most whers don't like sharing their bonded so I would no longer be able to do so if I impressed. On the other hand our master preferred to wait till the apprentices were older since a lot of them would be sent off to smaller holds or mining camps or caravans even and older wherhandlers garner more respect. Something you need when someones attacking and you have to warn the caravan. When you're younger people don't take you as seriously and might think your just getting upset and flustered instead of having genuine cause for worry. Then there's always the chance I was being considered for a queen egg or was being groomed for some specific great hold." Cyrci replied her eyes still distant in musing when an idea hit her. One she felt sure was the actual explanation for the reasons behind her lack of a wher.
"In truth though I think the Master knew I would never fit in at the hold of my birth. I was feared like any other wherhandler often is, but because I was born and raised there I had none of the mystical appeal or respect a wherhandler garners. My Master always encouraged me to get out and about and was actually the one who urged me down to the hold when the rider came on search. Told me no harm no foul and that he knew I was destined for some winged beast be it a wher or dragon. Sure enough I got searched." She replied a small happy smile on her face at the memory her gold eyes dancing with joy. She'd never forget that day, the look of hate in the hold girls eyes, the look of pride on her mother and brothers face. Even more so the look of knowing in her Masters eyes as he wished her luck and handed her her bag.
"Why did I want a dragon?" Cyrci repeated the question hmmming to herself with a whirling click of quiet thought as she worked over the puzzling question.
"The easiest answer is that I didn't. True I'd always had an intense interest since I was a child in anything winged be it wher or firelizard, but we didn't get much dragons in or about the dens. Dragons are day creatures and had little reason to visit. It wasn't till I came down to the hold and saw the search riders dragon that I was truly hooked. Why it was the most breathtakingly beautiful creature I had ever seen. I'd wanted a lifepartner since I saw my first wher and understood the companionship and love between the pair. But when I saw that dragon and rider I realized that I'd been getting only glimpses into a world of unimaginable joy and duty. I do still want a wher, but as a wherhandler I would protect one group of people, one hold, one caravan." And she paused then her gold eyes intense her voice growling solemn and heavy with promise.
"But as a dragon rider I would protect all of Pern. I would no longer be forced to cower within the dens or stand watching my mother shake with fear everytime the thread alarm was sounds. I would be a weapon against an enemy none, but riders can touch, can hurt, can kill. If I rode on dragon wings entwined with my lifepartner. I would never be alone, never be weak against our age old enemy ever again." She finally finished a look of purpose and determination in her eyes. A few moments after though as Cyrci looked upon her new friend her gaze softened.
"But enough of my rambling. Here let me get my journal. I have a few wher sketches in there I can show you of my brothers wher and a few of the younger ones just out of the shell." Cyrci replied hopping off the bunk to bend low to dig into her bag pulling out the journal. Hopping back up onto the covers she flipped it open only for a small slim paper package to fall from where it'd been tucked between the pages.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 1:24 pm
"Sketches would be great," Orlina agreed as Cyrci got up. It would be interesting to see if Cyrci was artistically talented, especially after that long explanation of her living situation. It didn't sound like a very happy life, and merely cemented in Orlina the idea that weyrlife was superior to Holdlife in every way. Holds sounded unreasonably harsh to a girl who was raised in a place where peoples' minds were open.
As Cyrci came back and opened up her precious paper-filled book, Orlina saw what looked like a small envelope fall from the pages of the journal. Orlina leaned down to scoop up the slender package that had fallen from Cyrci's book, looked at it briefly in curiosity, and then handed it back to her new acquaintance.
"What is it?"
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2011 2:19 pm
"I don't know. I don't remember putting that in there." She replied with confused honesty. Blinking at the package Cyrci set the book aside taking the simple slim thing from Orlina's grip and opening it to pull out a letter. Looking it over she read it aloud in a soft voice, a gentle smile pulling at her lips.
"To my dearest apprentice. Your mother and I are quite proud of you. Our entire craft is and though we know you must feel as though we are pushing you out when you were searched please realize we did so with best intentions and heavy hearts. I have watched you grow throughout life. You are not a Watch-wher my dear. Your wings are not meant to be clipped, but to carry you to so much more then we here can offer here. You will do well among the Weyr people. I have spoken at lengths with the Watch dragon rider and he assures your brother and I that you will be well looked after there. Know that you are never alone my dear. The hopes and love of the Engova wher dens are with you. When you walk on the sands know that I will be in the stands. We will be cheering and whether you walk back off with a dragon or no that you will always be welcome home. No matter which home you choose to make your place at. Good wind beneath your wings and may the first egg favor you. Journeyman Creal and Brown Creisk of Engova Hold." She finished reading her eyes distant and misty with tears as she reached into the package with shaking fingers to pull out a carved bone tooth, a wher tooth, hung on a leather cord. Letting out a low pained whine of sorrow she shook herself resolved against breaking down. Putting it on she wiped her eyes flipping through the pages of the journal till she found a few rough sketches of her whers. The drawings were certainly not of professional level, but it was clear the girl had taken great pains to do them to the best of her ability. The first picture was of a young baby Watch-wher sleeping in front of a hearth.
"That one in the picture is only three weeks old. Wher's don't get their back teeth in until after about three months so all you have to worry about with them is their claws though their jaws are still plenty strong. The real worry is if you scare or hurt them then you've got a very angry handler and whers tend to hold grudges as well. This tooth." And she held out the one that now hung around her neck to show Orlina. "Is a wher fang. Which from the size of it it came from a much older wher. Whers don't get these in until after about three months or more and not to this size till full grown." She pointed out being careful to explain and even point to a few of the rough sketches in her journal of the younger wher's toothless gums.
"You see most of the wherhandlers we train are replacements or for new areas and are typically sent away from the den. For an example if the wher of a hold passes away and the handler is too old we train a new handler and wher pair and when they're sent out their given a wher tooth on a leather cord. It's supposed to calm the lingering spirit of the dead wher and let other whers know that you are a friend and protected. It's just a legend though. It got started turns and turns and turns ago." Cyrci paused trying to remember the legend as best she good as she fiddled with the new pendant a low thoughtful clicking falling from her lips.
"Many many turns ago when Engova hold was first founded the island was overrun by vicious feral whers. The people feared to go out after dark and lost many good men to the terrible beasts until there were no men of age left to go out. Only the Lord older remained and he had grown weak with sickness and lay on his death bed. Now the Lord Holder had two young sons. The eldest was a staunch solemn boy with a good head on his shoulder and the youngest a bright and cheerful lad with his head in the clouds. The Lord holder expressly forbid his sons to risk the future of the hold by hunting the Wher Queen and her mate, but the youngest son in his foolish bravery snuck from the hold that night with his fathers hunting spear in hand. He followed the tracks of the great bronze that was the wild wher Queens mate and found the creature trapped in the mud slowly being killed by tunnelsnakes that had come to devour and destroy the proud creature." Cyrci paused for breath setting the mood of the story as best she good, a low humming purr of expectation coming from her throat.
"Running the tunnelsnakes off with his spear the boy stood before the dying bronze, but could not bring himself to kill the failing creature and instead pulled it's bulk from the mud and sat beside him as he lay dying. Grateful the bronze lifted his great head and looked the boy in the eye and with his last breath he left the youngest son a parting gift of one of his great fangs. The Queen feeling her mates departure keened in rage and sorrow and came barreling down from her nest screeching and seeking the blood of the perpetrator. What did she find, but some young holder boy with a spear standing over her mates dead body and set about to kill the lad immediately. The youngest son was no match for the clever Queen and lay beneath her claws staring at death through her whirling red eyes. When she lifted her paw to finish the blow though she stopped. Her eyes turning blue and alighting on her mates gift that now hung around the boys neck on a rough boot string. Realizing her mistake with a keening cry she led the boy away. Carrying him in her jaws, up, up, and up farther still till they reached her den in a small cave. There she set him down before her eggs and nudge the largest before the boy before sending him back on his way. The whers never attacked again and soon the wild whers died out. Yet from the egg the wild queen gave the youngest son hatched a second wher queen. The very first wher Queen of Engova hold and the youngest son became the very first Whermaster of the island. Since then every journeyman from our dens is given a wher tooth to guide and protect them in memory of this legend." She explained with a bright smile and a shrug of her shoulders.
"I doubt it actually does anything, but it's sentimental gesture to the few who know it."
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Posted: Mon Dec 05, 2011 1:05 pm
Orlina patted Cyrci's back when it looked like the older girl was going to cry, emulating motions she'd seen her own mother employ with those who were crying. Luckily, Cyrci seemed to shake it off after a moment and moved on. It was nice that she had people to miss her from her home, though.
She looked over the sketches Cyrci had to show her, learning bits about wher growth and, in the end, a new story she doubted anyone at the weyr had heard before. She would probably mess it up if she ever tried to retell it, but it was fun to know something no one else did.
"It's good that your family and friends are thinking of you. You can't wear it to the Hatching whenever that comes around-- nothing allowed but robes-- but you should kiss it for good luck before you go anyway. Maybe by sending it they sent you a bit of love-luck with it." She beamed. "Who knows? Maybe it'll bring you luck in making friends here, too."
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