[PRP] Yes, master (Miela & F'dral)

[Hattaki]

Chittering loudly at her, Minion set perched on her shoulder, completely uneasy thanks to the wild feelings that were roiling through his otherwise commonly amused bonded. Miela wasn't sure how to feel, how to react. Her face was scrunched up and her posture held in tightly, but her pigtails, cottony as they were, for some reason seemed to be vibrating and it all came down to nerves. This door was looming before her and not for any inspiring reason. No, not at all.

Candidatemaster F'dral was likely going to have the knot she'd only a month ago attached to her shoulder this day, all because she'd slipped with an egg and thought sulky thoughts towards it after it insulted her. Stupid, that was no way to gain the power which she wanted. A dragon of her own, the chance to fly.

Or something else, but that, again, depended on color. Which was one of the few things she didn't care about truly, though she wouldn't turn it down.

Brushing a hand at her little brown fire lizard, Miela reached up and knocked her knuckles smartly against the door leading into her master's office. She straightened even more, hoping to gain an inch or two despite her diminutive size, which honestly impressed no one at all. She was, of course, not ready for him to summon her in, but the young girl had no choice in the matter and her mind whirled a mile a minute just waiting.

All of which she realized her master's dragon would likely pick up on if he was anywhere nearby, but she couldn't quiet it down as she had on the sands, she'd been holding her emotions in ever since then and they were seconds from cracking. A harsh word away.

What would she do if the worst indeed happened!? Shaff and shells....

Uta

I hope this is okay as a start. XD She doesn't know him well enough to know what she's in for either way so this should be funny.

 

[Uta]

Hattaki

FORGIVE MY SUPER LONG DELAY. If you want to just banter what happened, I'm game. :c I know a lot has changed since the Touching.

F'dral was furious.

He was beyond furious, really. Between the attitude of Aresoth's, the unruly behavior of the Candidates, and the dressing down he was likely to receive later this evening--he was not in a happy mood. He had been mulling over what he might say or do to those who had caused problems. Already, the Candidates were due for an earful, but there were particular individuals he had no choice but to see.

Miela was one of them.

He knew enough about her, despite her having only been a Candidate for a very brief while. He knew of her mother, knew of her history, and had kept close eye on her during lessons. Not, of course, because she was really worth keeping a close eye on, but because F'dral did pride himself on knowing his Candidates--whether they realized it or not. Some of them he had already made judgments on. He knew who the troublemakers were, knew who he needed to keep after, and those he could trust--very few, really. Some he hoped would succeed and do well with their Impressions, while others he'd already brushed off as fodder--though of course, should any of them Impress, all the better for it. He did like surprises, for all that he was of a serious mind.

He also wasn't entirely heartless, despite the rumors.

Stern, traditionalist, colorist, yes, yes, and yes. But he also had high expectations of each and every one of them. Even those he thought very little of indeed, might well turn around and prove him wrong. Though he would never admit it, he was proud of a good deal of them; and more secret still, he was quite fond of a small handful. But he wasn't Gr'del, and he certainly wasn't here to coddle them.

Threadfall wasn't a joyride, and riding a dragon wasn't something fun or like riding a runner. It was serious business, and death was all but inevitable with Thread's return. He had to make sure each Candidate understood that, weyrbred or not, Searched or not, if they were to Impress their lives were no longer their own. They would be endless servants in a thankless war against an enemy that would take both limb and life. They would lose friends. They would lose children. They would die themselves--and all because they were given the best, most glorious bond on Pern.

So he was tough. He was hard on them. He wasn't here to be soft, this wasn't the creche. They had the rest of their lives to be soft but he was here to make sure that the Candidates in his care were ready to go to battle. And part of that meant that they were able to be trained. To follow rules, to listen to orders, and to have, above all else, self-discipline. Though some Candidates were still quite young, he had to make sure they were ready, and knew what they were getting into.

Was Miela ready? He'd soon find out.

At the knock, F'dral's frown deepend. "Come in." He ordered, waiting for the girl to enter. If he had expected him to be sitting, she was mistaken. Upon entering, she would find him standing in front of his desk, arms crossed, and staring hard at her. There was no pleasure behind his expression. Instead, he simply waited.

"Explain it to me," he finally spoke. "What happened out there?" It wasn't a request, but a command. She had one chance to get this right.  

[Hattaki]

"Come in."

It was curt and most assuredly an order and not a calm welcome. No, Miela knew full well that she was three ways from wrecked before she even had the door cracked. Swallowing roughly and taking a deep breath, the small girl walked into her Master's office, doing everything that she could to keep her expression blank so that he wouldn't see the panic and fear that was rising from her stomach. Facing down that big gold and her angry mate on the sands seemed to be a very easy task now that she was looking upward into F'dral's eyes. The distance between them had nothing to do with height and everything to do with who he was and 'what' she was to him.

A tunnelsnake that had destroyed the touching for everyone involved, she was vermin to him, she could see that much. Just a body for a baby dragon to throw away someday. There were very few that actually Impressed after all, how many had she watched over the turns? More candidates left dead than Impressed some turns. What did that make them to the Masters and assistants meant to teach them not to die? Just a body that may or may not meet their end depending on how well they'd learned and to the angry man before her, she hadn't learned.

So she would be a body then.

Letting out the breath she'd been holding since she walked in, Miela stood ramrod straight before F'dral and looked him square in the eye. "I asked a question, a stupid question to the baby, and when it dismissed me I..." She swallowed for a moment, nervousness and terror making her blood pound in her ears which made it hard to even focus. "I... I had a less than kind thought about it. Thought it's response was weak."

Her head bowed, pigtails rolling to the sides to expose the bare back of her neck to the taller man. "I knew that dragons could pick up emotions and thoughts, but once I was moved away I hadn't known that a baby in an egg could pick up on every word. I remember being shocked and being admonished by both parents and... everyone present. Including the next egg that I was able to touch." Miela's voice was hard as she spoke, barely wavering despite the occasional pause to gather her thoughts, even for just a second. "Never once did I mean to have the whole Touching come grinding to a halt, never meant to insult a baby in an egg."

Miela's teeth grit for a moment and she straightened back up to look F'dral in the eye again.

"I accept any punishment you have. I understand if you have to take my knot or even banish me." Her voice finally wavered and she dug her nails into the palm of her hand so hard that blood began to run between her fingers. She was the weak one and her voice showed it.

Uta

A lot has changed. XD But I'm down to keep going if it doesn't bother you. Just let me know if banter works better for you. <3