Welcome to Gaia! ::

The brown dragon passed by without so much as a second glance. So far that had been three greens, a blue and two browns. Vanavia shifted her feet slightly, hoping to ease the growing sensation in them. Standing perfectly still in one spot for this long was difficult. Standing in the third of five rows, near the middle of the semi-circle of potential candidates, in cold morning air there was little that Vanavia could do but wait. Just how long had it been anyway? It was hard to keep track of time when nothing really was happening. Of course the first few times this had happened Vanavia had been very excited and hardly able to stand still (Of course she had stood still, she wasn't going to make a fool of herself by fidgeting), but now she was standing at her fifth search and it was the same as every search before. They were all trotted out and waited in neat little rows as dragons went past and picked out the ones they liked. It'd be fine if they didn't have to stand for so long, since one dragon's opinion wasn't enough and several had to pick.

Vanavia took the opportunity to pull her cloak tighter around herself as the brown selected a boy from the second row. She didn't know him, but then there were so many people here she couldn't know all of them. Really only a handful or two of the faces in the group were familiar to her, but that wasn't important. While everyone was focusing on the lad who looked to be a turn or two older than her she could wrap her cloak a bit tighter to fight off the chill. Who knew how many dragons were left to look them over? The event might last another candlemark for all she knew. It might be her duty to present herself whenever the Weyr sent out a search, but that didn't warm her, nor wait any shorter.

That bronze was apparently the reason that searches weren't left to a single dragon. If it had been up to him then there would have been no candidates chosen at all. She had trouble believing that nobody here was good enough. Even with the just over a dozen that had been chosen there were still hundreds of youths left. There was being particular and then there was just being overly picky. Vanavia couldn't claim to know much about how dragons showed emotions, but to her he had seemed just plain rude. The bronze reminded her of a few people that shared her social circle and made it their prerogative to look down at anyone that wasn't the same level as them. To her this bronze seemed much the same in the way that he dismissed everyone. Still it wasn't her place to criticise the dragons or their riders and, mindful she was in the presence of creatures able to hear thoughts if they chose, pushed her opinions to the back of her mind. She might to be looking to be searched, but that didn't mean that some dragon wasn't going to poke its way into her head and get offended. Vanavia had heard all sorts of stories of dragons doing that to other people in the Hold, still perhaps not best to take all of them as truth.

Then it was a blue's turn and she was certain things were drawing to an end. What would she do later today? Naturally of course she would have to play the part of the dignified, yet distraught, rejected youth. She stood to do her duty, not with actual intention of going. Vanavia's parents had made known to her their opinions on women riding dragons. It wasn't safe for a woman. If the dragons chose you then you had to go, but that didn't mean they had to approve. Not that it mattered as Vanavia had been passed up several times and she was no different now than she had been when the last dragons had walked by or even when the last search had come. The possibility of getting some reading in that afternoon was the thought on the young woman's mind when the blue chose a lad from down the line.

A quiet rumbling snapped Vanavia from her thoughts and she had a moment to panic, she hadn't slouched or made obvious her absentmindedness had she? There was something entirely new to panic at however when she realised the blue had given pause again, far closer to her this time. He was looking in her direction and she felt herself shrink back from the gaze. There was something about dragon eyes that unnerved her. Smith had the same eyes, but there was far too much intelligence behind a dragon's eyes. Even though she stood as straight and proud as ever, Vanavia's fear rose. Filling her up when the rider too turned his gaze to her. At any other time his appearance might have registered with her, but her mind was too far into panic mode to take in new information.

He requested she stand forward and she remained frozen in place. Her posture and expression stayed in the neutral style they had been crafted into, but it was her eyes that betrayed the terror threatening to swallow the young girl at the prospect of what was happening. This was never what was meant to happen. It hadn't even deserved to be worried about in the time leading up to search.

A rush of cold air ruffled Vanavia's hair and a growl reached her. The blue firelizard plonked himself on her shoulder and whipped his head this way and that, a high, baby's, growl vibrating in his throat as he tried to search out what had frightened his bonded so. The appearance of the little creature seemed to snap Vanavia back to her senses. What would people think of his behaving this way!?

"Smith, no," she said in an urgent whisper, enforcing to the blue that he must stay quiet. Smith ceased his noise and hunkered down, doing well at impersonating a pout. Vanavia could feel his body trembling and knew the whirling want to protect in his mind. Regardless that he did not know what he was meant to be protecting her from. All Smith knew was that someone had made his Vanavia upset and it was his job to make them stop, but there were so many here he did not know where to begin. Instead he settled into a crouch and wrapped his tail around her arm, eyes whirling a dull, reddish, orange.

That disruption dealt with and the mortification of Smith's outburst momentarily overtaking her fear, Vanavia was able to turn her attention back to the rider and step forward as she was bid. The people in front of her side-stepped out of her way and she decidedly did not look at them. Not only because her mother had always stressed that it was proper to look forward and focused when someone bid you, but also because she didn't want to see the looks on their faces. Vanavia knew full well that there were a lot of people here who would give anything to impress and she didn't want the guilt of meeting their gaze and knowing she had been given the chance they craved and probably deserved. Coming to a stop she remained silent, a dragonrider was far beyond her rank and she was not permitted to speak out of turn, nor to maintain direct eye contact so the ground would have to do. Smith however had become distracted staring up at Zaqueth and chattering quietly to himself.

The warm breath enveloped Vanavia and Smith, tugging a few strands of hair loose and inciting a delighted chirrup from the firelizard. He liked this big one very much. Vanavia was surprised by the way that the dragon's breath did not offend her senses, having one to many times had Smith breath directly into her face after eating something she did not care to think about. Her eyes darted briefly up to take in Zaqueth's appearance and she had to say he was a handsome thing. Not that she knew what made a good looking dragon by Weyr standards, but the delicate markings on her face were just lovely. It gave her something to focus on other than his size. Having never been quiet this close to a dragon his size was still a little concerning. Even if dragons did not intentionally harm people, accidents could happen when something that size was moving and this blue wasn't even the biggest here.

"My name is Vanavia, Sir," she replied in the respectful and trained way that she had been taught to speak to those of higher rank than herself. S'ol had steadied the girl, intentionally or not, by reciting his stock phrase. It had reminded Vanavia of just why she stood when Search came. It wasn't just to show their support to the Weyrs. They had to stand by that duty if the dragons chose them to. She was one that had been asked to pay the price, a price that could include her life. Regardless of her fear or whether she wanted to do it the Weyr had called and it was her duty and her honour to answer it. Still, regardless of the formality she felt weighed on the situation, it was clear that the rider was being sincere and that at least counted for something. Vanavia managed a slight smile, not as warm as the one S'ol offered, but it was honest and fewer of the young woman's smiles could claim that than could not.

There was something encouraging about the rider seeming so pleased with what was happening. Even if she had only given her name. Nodding once to show her understanding, she gave a polite 'yes, Sir' and turned to join the others, giving a slight nod and smile to Zaqueth as she went. Vanavia wasn't sure whether it was deemed polite to bid farewell to the dragon also, but she couldn't see why it wouldn't be. Unless of course it was deemed rude to interact with a dragon without the rider's expressed permission, but hopefully that was not the case. Eyes forward she walked to the cluster of other newly selected candidates, feeling a tug on her cloak as Smith twisted around. No doubt to try and keep Zaqueth in his sights for as long as possible.

As she came to stand with the others her mind gradually began to slow and process what had just happened to her. Obviously she had been chosen to go to the Weyr as a candidate, that was the easy part, but there were a lot of other things that needed to be taken into consideration. What her parent's reaction was going to be like being the most pressing, but Vanavia wouldn't have to wait long to find out what that was going to be.

It had taken a while, but the shock had finally released it's icy grip on Vanavia and allowed her to think clearly. Naturally she couldn't refuse the opportunity to go to the Weyr, even though the idea of standing at a hatching made her blood run cold. Tales had reached her about what happened at hatchings and she preferred all her body parts in tact. However it was no longer in her hands. A dragon had chosen her and that meant that she had to go. Even if others said that she didn't have to, Vanavia knew that it would be a disgrace to her family for her to have been chosen to protect Pern and turn her back on that responsibility. The holders provided what the Weyr required, be it food, clothing or even their people.

It had been a long while before Vanavia had been allowed some time alone and away from other's eyes to actually think. First the Search had to conclude and there was no hope of thinking clearly with so many around. After that her mother, who had been watching, had swept her off. First they had to tell her father, which had been an interesting experience, then it was time for her mother to fuss about the details. Vanavia's things had to be packed. She wouldn't be permitted to dress the way she did at the hold there and so different arrangements had to be made. Her mother's critical eye for details had scrutinised her wardrobe and selected the plainest of garments, but still found them to be a tad too fine. Vanavia had sat and watched as she selected clothes that would be suitable and sent away a serving girl to fetch others. She listened as everything was laid out in front of her and she was told what would be suitable to wear on what occasion. When the serving girl returned Vanavia had only been able to describe the clothes she had been brought as drab.

With all of the preparations attended to, Vanavia was finally left to prepare for the feast, given a short time before she would be helped into her outfit for the occasion. If this was the last time that her clothes could reflect her station then her mother was intent to make sure that she would look her best. A rich, dark, purple gown with bronze embroidery and a pale blue sash around her waist was her mother's choice. All that was left was for her to actually get there.

The sun was sinking below the horizon when the group arrived. Her father to the right, the man was an imposing figure and it wouldn't take any stretching of the imagination to think he was a smith. On her left walked her mother, a woman who had embraced her age with grace, rather than trying to dress herself up as younger than she was. Then there was Smith, perched proudly on the young woman's right shoulder, there had been attempts to shoo him of in case he misbehaved, but they had not succeeded. The little blue could feel his bonded's nervousness, even if nobody else could see it, and although he didn't know what it was about he was going to sit here and be a good guard. Until something tasty or shiny distracted him that was.

Vanavia noticed S'ol walking towards her and turned a polite smile in his direction. She was much calmer now and so her smile came easier this time around and the nervous edge was missing. This kind of situation allowed her to slip back into her trained role far easier. Several people at the feast made her stand out less, unlike earlier when she had to stand in front of everyone. Inclining her head in a polite greeting at his informal salute, clearly a full curtsy wasn't necessary. With this rider at least.

"It would be an honour to represent my Hold at the Weyr." She would have liked to say her family, but Vanavia knew that the idea of becoming a rider was to pledge loyalty to the Weyr above everything, even her family. Instead of belonging to her family, she would belong to the Weyr. At least she would be able to take Smith with her, so a part of her family could stay with her. The Weyr couldn't try and take the creature from her, he was tied to her mind anyway. The blue himself was looking around trying to find Zaqueth, chattering to himself as he searched for the dragon. He was a giant in the firelizards eyes and he liked that he was blue like him.

"Certainly," Vanavia replied with a smile. It would be allowed as no doubt her parents would be hovering nearby. Privacy was not a concept that Vanavia had ever had the privledge to experience. Everything she did or said was observed by someone and, if necessary, relayed to her parents. To be out of their scope of supervision and control was a foreign idea. The young woman wasn't sure how she would manage without that continuous influence and direction.

Did she have any questions? Vanavia hadn't actually managed to come up with any. She knew some basic things about candidacy. The cutting of hair, the communal living, the heavy workload. Still, besides that she wasn't certain what a candidate actually did when eggs weren't on the sands. "What does a candidate actually... do?" It wasn't until after she had spoken that Vanavia realised that not only had she not meant to say that aloud, but also that it wasn't the most composed sentence. "What I mean is, when they are not standing or working of course." It wasn't a graceful save, but it was really all she could manage.

Self defence? There was an idea. Even though her father was a weaponsmith Vanavia had never actually been allowed to learn any kind of personal defence. It was unladylike to fight, even just to practice fighting. Still she had to admit she could see the benefits of it, especially if she was to be alone without protection. The idea of classroom work didn't phase her, she could handle that kind of thing. The physical side she was a bit concerned about. Physical wasn't a word that could be used to describe her lifestyle. Vanavia was sure she would get used to it though. Not realising quite how hard getting used to it would be.

She would have answered his question about literacy had he not swiftly moved on. Vanavia didn't mind, since he had assumed correctly, Still there was a lot to take in, so she tried to take it all in as best she could. The whole thing sounded awfully busy and Vanavia wondered how she would keep up. "Yes, it did. What decides which wing a squire ends up in though? Is it just whichever rider picks them or is it based on what kind of task they would most likely be best at as a rider?" The latter made more sense to her, but then if it was the first she wouldn't question the Weyr's ways, they had traditions and those usually existed for a reason.

Glancing at the platter Vanavia nodded politely. "Yes, thank you." Immediately this caught Smith's attention and the blue leaned forward, sniffing at the food. A disapproving look from the girl set the blue chattering unhappily. Why wasn't he allowed to eat? It wasn't fair!