[PRP] bird meets brawn [ fisher + y'qua

[houllow]

APPARENTLY shirts and shoes were a required form of attire while in the Weyr and Fisher was starting to suspect that this place wasn't any good for her. Maybe it would have been best if she'd stayed on the boat, where shirts and shoes were optional and also her dads were there.

Not that she was feeling homesick, of course, but maybe she missed the feel of the ocean breeze on her face or the small of salt in the air. Or, most likely of all, she missed being able to be barefoot and take her shirt off when she pleased.

Naturally she obeyed though when the order came down to keep her clothes on, and as Fisher sighed beneath a heavy layer of fabric she wished it'd rain. Or something.

Prism Shine

 

[Prism Shine]

This sharding heat could kindly take a long trip between for all Y’qua cared. Having such a slim body made him overly susceptible to the heat--and to the cold, for that matter. No doubt he’d be in such a state of irritation come round time for those famous northern bitter winters to settle in.

That doesn’t make him enjoy the heat of the summers any more, though.

He’d been in a state beneath Heimdath’s wing shadow, his green all too happy to soak up the warmth of the sun as much as she could. We could be nice and offer shade to that candidate.

…”Who?”

That one. Over there. Heimdath gestured with her nose, towards someone in the hot sun.

Oh.

The newly minted rider eyed a candidate not far from him. One of the new ones, for he doesn’t remember her. But that doesn’t say much, when he hadn’t been that personably with other candidates -- or his own weyrling class until lately, for that matter. “You, uh. You want to come stand in Heimdath’s shade?” He calls, though his voice wavers slightly.

houllow

 

[houllow]

Fisher'd been tugging at the hem of her shirt idly, occasionally lifting it up and letting it back down, when a somewhat squeaky voice caught her attention. Not squeaky in terms of pitch, oh no, but it reminded her of someone completely unsure of what they were doing and thus their voice reflected it. Turning to look over, the hulk of a candidate managed to squint enough to see just who was hailing to her through the sun and the heat.

The answer was of course someone she didn't know because did she look like the social type to memorize every name and face in High Reaches? No. No, because Fisher doubted she'd care enough to make friends and that she'd be long enough here to make friends. Something about her time at this Weyr seemed limited.

"Nah, s'all good. If anything you should be standin' in the sun, gettin' a little color on that face of yours. You look like a water ghost." Did Weyrfolk know of water ghosts? Whatever.

Prism Shine

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