Branne
Name: Branne
Age: Twenty-Three
Gender: Female
Craft/Rank: Weavercraft / Guard
Appearance: With warm brown hair, almost exactly like her dragon's hide, it's almost as though Branne and Maltoth were made for one another in more than one sense. That aside, her hair goes down a little past her shoulders, but is almost always up in a loose-looking bun. As a guard, she prefers to look respectable, but not unapproachable by her peers. So she ties her hair up tightly to keep it from slipping out and distracting her or getting pulled on, but makes sure it doesn't look completely sleek and overly professional. Living on the Southern Continent means that naturally, she has golden brown skin, part natural and part acquired from time outdoors. Build-wise, she appears to have a bit more muscle than most women, which can be attributed to her job as a guard; not to say she doesn't have curves, though, because she definitely does. Her eyes are a silvery blue, seeming to become more grey or blue depending on her mood. Which she insists isn't true, and that it's just the environment and such. Splattered across her cheeks and nose are freckles, most a dark red-brown. Aside from her typical gear, Branne wears a leather cord around her neck. Previously her brother's, it was given to her before she stepped onto the Sands, a good luck charm for her. She treasures it, and will sometimes touch it without thinking. Aside from the cord, she does not wear any jewelery, although her ears are pierced.
Personality: Much like the dragon she rides, Branne is rather reserved. Since she was young, she worked on hiding the majority of her emotions, opting for a mask of indifference. Her mother was always an emotional mess, and rather than be treated with respect, she was treated in a fragile manner. Wanting to be respected, not looked down upon, Branne learned to hold back her tears and put on a brave face. Many quivering lips and late-night breakdowns later, she had it down. She could appear to stand pain as good as any man, if not better. Which, in actuality, she does have a high pain tolerance, so she probably was doing pretty well in that field to begin with. That aside, Branne doesn't enjoy opening up to people, especially since becoming a dragonrider. She's insecure on people's opinions of her, usually only able to be soothed by her dragon when it begins to make her have a panic attack. Although she's gained a lot of confidence, she can't help but wonder what others think of her, especially regarding her decisions as a dragonrider, now also being a guard.
Along with her knack of having an eye for detail, Branne is rather critical of others and their work. She doesn't intend to hurt anyone, but only to make them better. But she comes off as harsh and whiny sometimes, depending on how tired she is and how many times mistakes have been made by the same person. Fortunately, she's rather patient, her tolerance really only wearing down if the person she tries to help gets an . . . attitude . . . with her. As for her stamina, she's almost like she runs on lack of sleep and needlework. Oh, and fruit. Almost always she will have something on her, usually dried fruit when on shift and . . . not so dry . . . fruit when off shift. Branne also tends to be motherly, especially towards the younger people in the Weyr, prisoners or otherwise. She'd like to support them, all of them, but knows she can't do that in actuality. Often she must push her maternal instinct aside, reminding herself that the young prisoners do not need mothering from a strange guard, much less someone intimidating like herself.
History: When Branne was only three turns old, strange reports came from a small cothold in Southern, sent to the Dragon Watch. A team of scientists was sent to investigate, and after a few sevendays, there was not a single report from them. Concerned, but not yet alarmed, a search party was sent to retrieve the team, but all they managed to recover were scraps of bodies, which may or may not have belonged to the science team. Alarm rose, and no news of the science team ever rose. Rumours had spread, of course, and young Branne heard a number of them over the course of her childhood, during which her older brother was Searched, and proceeded to impress a bronze dragon at Southern Weyr.
At the age of eleven, a journeyman of Weavercraft caught Branne's eye, and she worked on becoming friends with the man. Too young for apprenticeship, she would sit and watch him work, quiet and attentive, then later attempt to imitate some things he had done with her mother's sewing kit. It resulted in many pricks from the needles, but it gave her a head start. Come her twelfth, Branne joined the Weaver Hall in Southern Boll as an apprentice, showing an eye for colours and details. For the most part, she focused on the tapestries for Harper Hall, choosing to pursue that branch of the craft rather than the craft as a whole, although she still took basic lessons for the various branches of Weavercraft. Merely a turn into her apprenticeship, tensions regarding prisons escalated, leading to a number of arguments among the journeymen and masters of Weaver Hall. Branne worked hard to be on her best behaviour and avoid the debates that had risen, focusing on her studies. However, she could not help but be starry-eyed over the Dragon Watch, whom she had grown to admire.
Halfway through her thirteenth year, Branne was invited to visit her brother in Southern Weyr. Granted temporary leave for the visit, she packed a kit so she could still practice Weavercraft in her spare time, not wanting to get clumsy fingers. While in the Lower Caverns, speaking with Weyrbrats, a Searchrider came down. The rider boasted about his blue, and Branne could not help but want to meet the dragon that had caught the attention of the Weyrbrats so easily. In a small group, they went to visit the dragon, and as they neared, the bluerider let out an exclamation that was excited, then followed by an irritated sigh when he glanced at Branne. Her brother was arrogant, being a bronzerider, and the Searchrider did not hesitate to think his younger sister was the same. However, she was offered a chance and candidacy, which she consulted her brother on before happily agreeing to Stand for the next clutch. Around her fourteenth, she Stood on the Sands, heart hammering and head swimming, but refusing to show how nervous she was. Dragonets began to hatch, and none approached her. Then a brown tumbled out, and his eyes locked with hers. Do not worry, Mine. The shell was a little too hard. His voice, as it touched her mind, was steady and reassuring. A grin broke out on her previously straight face, and she practically leapt at the approaching dragonet. I am Maltoth. He seemed to add his name as an afterthought, soaking up Branne's affections. Although not many were pleased, her brother a bit embarrassed, the newly bonded pair were too happy to care.
Three turns passed, and Branne was soon seventeen. Around this time, word of a new Weyr being built began to circulate, the construction taking place in the vicinity of the mysterious disappearances of the science team. It would be called Warden's Weyr, a prison primarily run by the founder of the Dragon Watch, who would, in turn, hold the title of Warden. Considering her options, and the lack of true respect and fondness she felt her fellow clutchmates felt for her, Branne made a decision, and went to her brother to execute it. Supported by Maltoth, who had surprisingly managed to grow irritable in their time at Southern Weyr, she announced her plan to apply for a transfer to the new Weyr. Her brother was horrified, the young woman before him still his baby sister, regardless of her age, as well as status as a dragonrider. Discussing things with the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader, he proposed the resulting deal to his sister. If, and only if, she agreed to return should anything happen or should she be dissatisfied, he would be able to put in a good word for her. Although both she and Maltoth knew they had no intentions of returning to Southern for more than a visit, Branne agreed to his terms, and thanked the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader for their generosity.
Before Warden's Weyr opened, Branne visited several times to aid in the construction, and with the added good impression, secured herself a spot at the Weyr. Upon its opening, she proudly admired the Weyr from the skies with Maltoth, whose critical eye, much like hers, felt a few things needed to be fixed, but that it could wait. She also, hanging onto her Weavercraft skills, volunteered to work on tapestries for the Weyr; not for the prisoners, of course, lest they abuse her hard work. No, she wouldn't let them near, they'd have to admire from afar, and even then had no hopes of seeing the magnificence. As her nineteenth passed, she and Maltoth had fallen into their roles as guards quite comfortably, although it wasn't like it wasn't taking a toll on them, slowly but surely. In her free time, she began to visit the younger prisoners when not working on her tapestries. Branne encouraged their recovery in some cases, and reformation in others. Either way, if they showed promise of being released back into society, she spent time with them. Under no circumstances, however, has she visited any prisoners who have committed a violent crime, or more than one of such, regardless of their age. She's gotten into the habit of avoiding the older prisoners unless given a good word about them from a fellow guard, preferring to not risk an uncooperative prisoner.
As Branne's twentieth came around, Kaelyandra of gold Brakiheth was transferred to Warden's Weyr to give the Weyr a gold. Brakiheth was not a gold that met many, if any standards, and Kaelyandra, aside from her long name, was an insufferable person. To say Branne was displeased would be an understatement; she was also very offended that the other Weyrs thought so little of Warden's Weyr that they'd send a disgraceful gold and her rider to the Weyr. They worked hard here, and deserved better than that. To make matters worse, it was clear the goldrider did not want to be there. Branne proceeded to do everything in her power to avoid the company of the woman, although she had visited Brakiheth at least once upon Maltoth's insistence. Unfortunately, that resulted in an encounter with Kaelyandra, which Branne claims she 'barely made it out with her sanity'. A little dramatic, yes, but it was with good humour, and not something she just went around publicly saying. After all, Kaelyandra was their Sr. Weyrwoman, whether anyone liked it or not. That title, in itself, demanded respect, even if faux.
Once twenty-three, Branne witnessed, rather unfortunately, Brakiheth's Run. Mortified, she struggled to keep her opinion between her self and Maltoth, who had not even moved in the slightest towards the gold. In the end, she was caught by blue Mordanth, and although many were displeased with the event, nothing was going to come from it. Or, at least, that's what they believe. But the gold grew egg-heavy and clutched, much to the horror of many. Arguments sprang up like wildfires, spreading fast and angry. Branne refused to have the dragonets culled, fiercely defending their lives when anyone brought it up with her, and was extremely relieved when the Warden announced the plan for a Standing. Prisoners that met the requirements would be able to Stand for Impression, although any that Impressed would be under a close watch. Should they go out of line, both they and their dragon would suffer. With this in mind. Branne couldn't help but hope for a good turnout of Weyrlings, fearing for the young dragons' lives. Maltoth has assured her that dragons do not make poor decisions, and should their rider do so, then chances are, the dragon is on the same path. It only eased her mind a bit, but she appreciated it all the same.
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Maltoth
Name: Maltoth
Color: Brown
Age: Nine
Appearance: Quite proudly, Maltoth sports a brown hide, the colour warm and homey. His muzzle has a spray of copper, the flecks varying in size and sheen, which Branne fondly calls his 'freckles'. He is thirty-four feet in length, perhaps with a few inches ignored, an oddity to have nearly reached the known maximum length of brown dragons, but it's not very noticeable, and you wouldn't know unless he boasted about it. Unfortunately for any nosy gossipers, Maltoth is not one to boast or brag. So the chances you're going to get anything out of him are slim to none. He is fit, priding himself on staying in shape with his rider, and there's virtually no excess fat to be found on him.
Personality: Despite his warm appearance, unless he lays in the sun, Maltoth is not very warm to people, human or otherwise. He often regards them with a critical, judging eye, and is known to appear rather unapproachable. Unafraid to point out flaws in anything or anyone, he mainly only does so to his rider, who often does the same. However, he is not a complainer, and not only wishes to better things, but works towards doing so. If something can be done by him, he will do it, rather than order someone else to do it for him. Maltoth can be considered rather reserved, his eyes not a window to his emotions like with most dragons. Rather, he seems to have picked up on his rider's ability to remain calm and steady, which he already was, and project that primarily to keep his eyes from becoming a whirling mess if he is stressed or angry. Above all, Maltoth is a simple dragon, but not lazy. He works hard, right alongside his rider, but will not object to some down time. His temper flares infrequently, and it takes a lot to rile him up. When it comes to Flights, he is not very motivated, whether the dragon that Rose is a green or a gold.
