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Masterharper Vice Captain
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 Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2017 6:06 pm
The afternoon chores had been posted, and Cheyrel found himself assigned to help the Beastcrafters in the feeding pens. The wintertime weather of High Reaches meant that he had to bundle up in extra layers, and grab his working gloves from the chest in his room. Chayrel couldn't help but be glad by the assignment; while mucking out stables in frigid weather wasn't exactly ideal, it was a break from his remedial literacy lessons. Learning how to spell, read, and write were far more challenging to the man than any sort of physical labor. Hard work was something he knew how to do, and shoveling manure and patching up fences was just fine by him. Even while out in the cold.
The small group of Candidates selected to help in the feeding pens were broken up even further. Some were sent to feed the runners some grains, a few others sent to chase down some escaped wherries. For Chayrel and Reenav, they were selected to pick up a few shovels, some buckets, and clean out the runners stables. The Journeyman had sent some of the runners out to pasture so they could work, but a few others remained penned, watching the two boys with their long-lashed black eyes.
"Start here. Muck it out, then when finished, lay down some new straw to replace what you tossed out. Fill up the the bins and when they need dumping, take 'em out back for Korol to dump." The Journeyman instructed. "If you have any questions, I'll be in with the caprines. Start in this first pen, and work your way down the row." The journeyman didn't expect them to get terribly far, but he'd check on them later to see if he needed to whip them into shape. For now, he'd leave it to them to sort out how they handled it.
Once the Journeyman Beastcrafter left, Chayrel picked up a shovel, and started clearing away the debris. He didn't know Reenav well-- the much taller lad made him feel extra short. He'd seen him around during their lessons, and they all shared the Barracks, but he didn't know too much else. Thankfully, this job didn't really require a lot of conversation. He didn't want Reenav to think him a slacker or a procrastinator; he also couldn't help but feel that maybe the taller man was already casting judgement due to his short stature and baggyclothes. Well. He'd show him. Hmph.
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Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2017 7:24 pm
Reenav stretched his back, and moved around a bit to warm it up before he settled into a steady rythym. "You know the best part about this, is the runner scat doesn't smell nearly as bad as the herdbeasts." It was also in neat little piles in some stalls, whereas in others it was more of a treasure hunt. There were few chores he really minded, perhaps his least favorite was peeling tubers and boiling numbweed. Mucking stalls was therapeutic, take a dirty thing and with a little hard work it was clean and fresh and appreciated by a critter. Dishes just seemed to multiply when you were not looking at them. He got into the steady lift and put, lift and put and started to drift out of the present. A rustle from the other lad brought him back to himself. "Have you ever ridden a runner?" He hadn't, they didn't have very many runners where he was from. He peered at the resident runners who peered back at him curiously. He was more used to boats and the whimsy of the ocean then riding something that could run so much faster then he. Reenav finished a stall and managed to get his shirt full of straw. It itched like mad and he had to dig it out. Flicking straw pieces now and then he started on another stall with a runner who would reach over and poke him from the adjacent stall once in a while. "This one has a sense of humor, I bet hes one of the ones who hides the scat."
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Masterharper Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Jan 06, 2017 2:49 pm
Chayrel didn't expect his current companion to be so talkative -- especially when shoveling manure. The dark-skinned boy was take off guard by how easy Reenav spoke up, and how the taller man seemed to want to be congenial. Why was he being so friendly? Chayrel initially bristeled at the idea -- clearly Reenav had to be up to something. If Chayrel took the bait and started talking, would that get him in trouble? Would the other suddenly turn around when the Beastcrafter returned to complain? While the Weyr was less strict than the mines of Nabol, they didn't abide Candidates that shirked their work. So what was this stranger getting at, talking to him like they were fast-friends?
Ah,but then again, there was no reason to do that. They were but Candidates, stuck to do the same amount of work. It was quite possible Reenav was simply asking questions just to distract them from the task ahead. Maybe, he realized, Reenav was just trying to be nice. The Weyr was nothing like the mines of Nabol, he reminded himself. Not everyone here was out to stab another in the back. Still, one could never be sure. So it was, the suspicious lad said nothing for a moment, before deciding that maybe he might as well respond.
"Small consolation, that. I reckon this'd be par for the course if'n we Impress." That's at least what the Candidatemaster kept telling them. Until dragons learned how to fly and go Between, it was their riders jobs to clean up after them. And given how big they grew, he could only imagine just how pleasant that aspect would be.
When the other lad asked about whether or not he'd ever ridden a runner, Chayrel gave a small grunt. Did he look like he rode runners? Then again, it was hard to judge anybody in the Weyr. They came from so many different walks of life and were so intermingled Chayrel probably looked about as commo as the regular weyrbrats. That was good. It meant he could more easily fit in. "Nope. Runners were only for them high'n mighty folk where I come from. You?" In fact, the first time he'd ridden anything was the Search dragon that brought him to the Weyr. That flight had been, perhpas, his singlest greatest achievemet and was something he'd never forget. If he rode a runner now, he was sure it wouldn't be nearly as amazing as being adragonback.
So it was, Chayrel put himself back into his work. He'd see how that bit of conversation went over before offering anything else. They were still on duty, after all, and he still was suspicious of Reenav's overall intentions.
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 10:15 pm
"Me either, they just look so..awkward. But I used to come down here when I was young and feed them grass handfulls at a time. It was often before bed when I couldn't sleep." He dipped his head, he shouldn't bore his companion with old memories. Not every one had a babblemouth like himself, the lad seemed pretty quiet. He wasn't weyrborn either at least not from this weyr. "Do you mind if I ask where you are from? I was born here, so I haven't seen much of anything outside really." He didn't often get to go out out of weyr chores yet. He put his back into the work as he waited for a reply. Another stall done, a new load to dump. But he adored the physical work and how good one felt after with warmed muscles, food always tasted better too after some hard work. As well as the feeling of accomplishment, unlike writing which seemed to be a practice in patience and not overly helpful in the near future.
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Masterharper Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 05, 2017 3:27 pm
When the lad confessed that he got to see runners everyday -- and even feed 'em -- as well as was born from the Weyr, he couldn't help but be jealous. He grimaced a bit, knowing full well it probably wasn't good to be so negative and so envious of the others position, but he couldn't stop the emotion or feeling. Having come from the pits of Nabol, all his life he'd dreamed of a different life. Seeing how the Weyr treated its folks, and being treated so well as a Candidate, made Chayrel wonder where he'd be in life if he'd had such opportunity. He couldn't read, couldn't write, and only knew how to do physical labor. That didn't get him much if he didn't Impress. He certainly didn't want to go back to Nabol!
"I'm from Nabol," he added, though there was a small growl in his voice. It wasn't meant for his companion. "You ain't missin' much. I dun' know a lot about anything, really. I came from the mines, and did a lot of diggen. I could tell you all sorts o' things about rocks," he added, as if trying to prove that he wasn't as stupid as he might come off compared to a Weyrbred lad. "But ol' Gansley don't like us thinkin' too much or knowin' too much or learnin' too much. At least not the sorts like me and my kin. Y'all here are treated like Holders." And that last bit was a compliment to High Reaches Weyr.
Truth be told, he wanted to stay. Even though he knew some found the place stifling and the work tedious, Chayrel liked the security it offered. For the first time in his life he felt like he belonged.
"I reckon you'll get yourself a fancy dragon one day." Another compliment. At least this other had the sense to work hard. That was more than some of the Candidates he'd met.
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