August 27, 2004
R'hyn searches Jondeval - not the wisest thing he ever did. Previous Next
Jondeval comes out the short, wide tunnel from the lower caverns.
R'hyn's perched near the hearth, warming wet hair and hands - and, perhaps inadvertently, his breakfast, which is spread out in front of him. It's obvious he's not been here long, given the state of his clothing; it doesn't seem like his temper has dried out much, either.
Jondeval wanders into the living caverns yawning and rubbing his eyes with the rumpled look of one who has just rolled out of bed. He is wearing an oversized wherhide jacket cut into the style worn by dragonriders and to prove this is a secondhand garment there is an old threadscore scarring the back. Under the beady eye of one of the nursery workers he ladles out a heaping bowl of porridge then wanders towards the nighthearth to find a place to eat.
R'hyn clearly has the superior breakfast: eggs, toast, even some sliced ham. He lifts his head, watching Jondeval for a moment as the boy approaches, with a beady-eyed glance, then returns his attention to his meal, dipping toast into the running yolks of his eggs.
Jondeval takes a couple bites of his breakfast and wakes up enough to notice who he is sharing eating space with. Eyeing R'hyn suspiciously since he has had little experience with the Weyrleader he says "Hello" in a voice that is way too cheerful for this time of the morning. The bronzeriders breakfast is given a long look and then he looks at his own and scowls, feeling cheated. "Is it raining out or something?" Jon asks, the master of observation that he is.
R'hyn grunts. This may, for a time, seem like the end of his contribution to the conversation but, as he lifts his fork towards his mouth again, he remarks, "What do you think? I don't - generally - walk around wet for no reason." The forkful of food goes into his mouth and he chews, fingers wrapping about the handle of his mug.
Jondeval uses his spoon to make roads and 'mountains' in his porridge idly as he parrots what he has heard the other riders saying behind the Istan's back "I dunno, I thought it might be 'cause everyone says the Istans here are wet behind the ears." Apparently any attempts to knock descretion into his head has been forgotten at this early hour.
"Oh, is that what you think?" R'hyn's voice edges on sharp, as he eyes Jondeval over the rim of his mug. "And what do you think that means, mmm? I mean--" he adds, quickly, "aside from literally wet, of course." He makes a big show of cutting into his eggs, sopping toast through it.
Jondeval lifts a shoulder "I don't know what it means exactly but.." he eyes R'hyn and realizes the Weyrleader isn't pleased "..it must not be nice?" To the first of the questions he was asked Jon shrugs again "I don't think that, I was just wondering." Digging his spoon into his breakfast he overloads it with porridge and shoves the entire thing into his mouth.
R'hyn, waving his fork for emphasis, explains, "It means that they think Kiora and I are young and inexperienced." His offense doesn't seem to have lasted, which perhaps has something to do with the rapid rate at which his food and drink is disappearing. "Ah. Of course." Wincing, as the boy shoves his spoon into his mouth, R'hyn takes a much smaller bite.
Jondeval talks as he eats "Thats not very nice is it? You don't seem that young to me." Of course he wouldn't from Jon's lofty age of eleven turns. After depleting the level of food in his dish Jon wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and asks, all seriousness "What were you doin' out in the rain then? I thought if you were Weyrleader you could make everyone else fly in the rain."
R'hyn's expression allows a smile, lips twitching. "Hopefully not that old either, mind you." He slices up his ham, and, forking it, explains, "I had to get from my weyr, to here. There's no direct path. We don't all get to live safe and sound in the caverns." His expression turns distracted, eyes going distant.
Waverly comes out the short, wide tunnel from the lower caverns.
Jondeval shovels another heaping spoonful of food into his mouth before answering "Thats kind of stupid, the guest weyr is attached to the living caverns, why doesn't your weyr? Well, at least you don't have to share your weyr, I have to share a room with eight other kids." For some reason this has the lad scowling darkly and looking towards the lower caverns, making the fading black eye he is sporting (again) visible.
"Because I don't want people wandering in and out of my weyr," says R'hyn, promptly, setting down his fork to pick up his mug again. "Ah. Yes. I suppose that's true." Head tilted to the side, he adds, "What happened to your eye?"
Jondeval huhs "I guess that makes sense" he says doubtfully. "The Weyrleaders at Igen had their weyrs right near the living caverns though." Raising an absent hand to the fading bruise on his face Jon scowls again "Stupid Faelan hit me again. She gets made 'cause I won't hit her back..she likes fighting. My mum says there is something wrong with this weyr 'cause everyone does nothing but fight."
Waverly enters from the bowl, a warm smile already planted on her face as she greets those she passes in her usual cheery manner. She makes her way towards the tables and pours herself a mug of klah, eyeing the food hesitantly. Turning away from the meal offerings, she sips the hot liquid carefully, letting her gaze wander the cavern idly.
R'hyn, for a moment, looks pleased. "You don't hit back? Just her, 'cause she's a girl, or in general?" Flushing, he adds, quickly, "Your Mum is Finola, right? She's right. No one fought like this at Ista, either, but there are reasons. Unfortunately." He and Jondeval are sitting near the hearth, the former with the remains of a plate of eggs and ham, the latter with porridge.
"Both" Jondeval says promptly. "My mum told me that if I got into another fight she would send me to my uncle to learn how to herd sheep. Yup, she's Finola. She's a healer you know." Tilting his head inquiringly the boy gives R'hyn an avid look "What are the reasons?" Catching sight of Waverly out of the corner of his eye Jon lifts and arm and waves wildly at her to get the attenion of one of his favorite candidates.
Waverly could hardly miss such wild thrashing. Her gaze immediately shifts to find the source and, finding it, she brightens considerably. Without hesitation, she approaches the table, her attention on the boy more than the man. A low whistle is given as she gets the chance to see Fae's handiwork. "Nice shiner," she tells him without even a hint of sarcasm or teasing. "Who'd you get it from?" Glancing towards his tablemate to offer a smile, she arches a brow. "Oh. I'm sorry, Sir. I don't want to interrupt anything. Um.. morning.."
"Ah. Your Mum has good sense." R'hyn grins over the rim of his half-empty mug, adding, "I don't tolerate fighting, not if I can help it. Um. It's mostly... you know, Istans and Fortians, not getting along. And some people just... fight." He peers at Jondeval as he waves, turning about in time to greet Waverly with an uncertain smile. "Oh! No... Not at all! Please, um, join us." Flush.
Jondeval beams up at Waverly as if she had just complimented his jacket or something else he's proud of "Thanks, it's all green now but a couple of days ago it was black. Faelan did it 'cause she knows I won't hit her back but she's gonna get into trouble cause T'ren saw her do it." As he says the last Jon gets an extremely pleased expression on his face. Jon's face turns serious as he nods at R'hyn "She's alright I guess and I know all about the Istan's and Fort people. All the Fort riders say the sharding Istan's are taking over everything."
The morning stretches on tiredly, the spring day in full-swing already. A loose drizzle falls from the patchy, inconstant clouds, just enough to dampen the ground and cool down the air. The spring air is cool, still brisk but no longer icy. (55F, 13C)
Waverly's expression softens at sight of the flush, inclining her head and then setting her mug on the table. "Thank you, Sir." Settling into the chair, she looks to Jon again, concern touching her features. "Faelan? Still trying not to be a lady, I guess," she mutters. "Hey! Don't say it like that. Don't say sharding," she corrects, lowering her head a bit so that her eyes are steady on his face. "Just Istans will suffice." A wink is given and then she grins. Cheeks flush as she recalls R'hyn, her gaze moving there again. "I mean.. Istans aren't bad people or anything," she offers.
R'hyn's expression flickers slightly in amusement at Jondeval's pride over his shiner. "Yes," he agrees, slowly, in response to the boy's later comment. "I suppose they do, at that." He watches Waverly distractedly, apparently not particularly offended, though he doesn't comment further to her - his expression goes vague again, darkening. "No-- Erm. Uh. Jondeval? Could I, uh, ask you something?" His free hand is bawled up into a fist.
"Sorry" Jondeval says to Waverly in apology over saying 'sharding' but it is said in a cheerful voice of someone who knows perfectly well that they shouldn't say it. "Faelan will never be a lady" he insists. "She's better at doin' stuff then most boys are." Is that a hint of respect in his voice? "Anyways, the Istan's are too bad. I can't tell them apart from the Fort people most of the time." Scraping his spoon against the sides of his bowl in an irritating noice Jon nods at R'hyn "Sure."
Waverly lowers her gaze a bit, despite that R'hyn holds no reprimand for her. "She doesn't have to be a lady," she murmurs. "She just doesn't want to have to grow up." There must be something very interesting in her mug as she simply focuses on it while R'hyn gets the chance to ask his question, her hands clasped in her lap.
"That's because we're all Fortians, now," says R'hyn, promptly, with remarkable confidence - though he smile is kind of thin. "She's young - plenty of time to grow up," he adds, perhaps stalling on his question, though, rubbing on his stubble, he reluctantly glances back at Jondeval. "Er. Arisvath... likes you. You're over twelve, right? So you could stand, if I asked?" He's giving the boy an appraising look; it's probably fair to say he has no idea how old Jondeval is, even by appearances.
Jondeval stops scraping the sides of his bowl for the last bits of porridge at R'hyn's question and looks at the Weyrleader uncertainly then with growing glee "Stand? For the clutch on the Hatching sands? Like Waverly and Emani?" The boy looks as if all his turndays have come at once, complete with presents. "I can wear one of those white knots and the outfit?" Suddenly Jondeval looks at R'hyn with great suspicion "You aren't joking with me are you?" Purposely Jon doesn't answer anything about his age right off, as if hoping that R'hyn would conveniently forget about such a thing.
Waverly doesn't have a thing to add about the Fortian-Istan thing. And, after hearing the question, Faelan's behavior is set aside as well. Her smile returns, brighter than ever as she looks to Jondeval, excited at even the prospect. "And here you've been getting excited about the chance of working as part of the ground crew," she reminds him.
R'hyn rubs his chin embarrassedly, for no obvious reason. "Um. Yeah. I mean... yeah, if you'd like. Do you want to?" He glances at Waverly, a kind of smile in place on his face, then turns his attention to the table. Either he's taken the lack of answer about age as an affirmative - or he's not really thinking about it; at any rate, he doesn't chase it up.
Jondeval nods so fast and hard it looks as if his head might fall off "Yes I want to!" he says gleefully. Brown eyes are open wide as he grins with amazement at Waverly "A flaming dragon is much better then a flamethrower." he reminds her. Unable to sit still Jon bounces in place as he pesters R'hyn with questions "So I can really be a dragonrider? Really? And sleep in the candidates room?" Shoving a hand through his already rumpled hair the boy is, for once, somewhat at a loss of words "Oh wow."
Waverly laughs at the boy's reaction, looking again to R'hyn, oddly grateful. "Now don't jump ahead," she warns the boy, turning towards him again. "There's no promises that can be made. There's a chance you'll get to be a dragonrider. But there's a chance that you'll wind up being left on the Sands too." Some of the cheeriness fades as she speaks soberly. "It's my second time. W'rik said he did it four times before Daymith found him. And after you've spent a night listening to Avery, you just may wish that they'd let you sleep with your other weyrmates." The last is murmured in teasing tones.
R'hyn's embarrassment slowly fades to amusement - even enjoyment. "Oh. Well then." See: he even smiles. "Well... I can't promise the dragon-- er. What she said," he quickly nods towards Waverly, adding, "I, uh, assume you're Waverly? Because I don't think we've met, but... I hear. But. You get to sleep in the barracks, and wear the knot, and, you know, all that."
Jondeval brushes aside any warnings about the opposite "I'll Impress" he says with the confidence of youth. Then doubt crawls in and his face falls a little but with a shrug he brushes any doubts away again. "Can I move into the barracks now? And get my new knot? This is going to be so fun, hey..can I sleep next to you Waverly? Shards, everyone is going to be so surprised!" Thats for sure.
Waverly whips her head back to look at R'hyn, eyes widening slightly. "You hear what?" she asks quickly, a bit stunned. A slow nod follows as she regards him a moment. "Um.. Yeah. I'm Waverly." She reaches over, offering her hand to shake and then gives a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I'm not used to being the one talked about. And.. you've just made a young man very happy. Thank you, Sir. I.. C'lan flies with-" A laugh escapes and she flashes Jon a grin. "The cot next to mine is empty so I don't think that's a problem at all. And.. you get a rest day today with it being your first day as a Candidate."
"Your mother is going to be so proud," asserts R'hyn, with the obliviousness of a father whose child is still far too young for this kind of thing. "Um-- sure. We can move you in, now.-- Oh." He breaks off, to glance at Waverly. "No, I mean, just what Jondeval was saying. I knew you weren't Emani, so I... guessed." His smile is hesitant, and almost hopeful. "C'lan? Yes, he's in my wing. You know him?"
Jondeval bounces in his seat again, too excited to even think about finishing breakfast "She's going to be so happy" the boy crows as he clambers off of his bench. Shuffling from foot to foot he beams happily at the pair still at the table "I'm going to go pack all my stuff up and move over to the candidate barracks. Thanks R'hyn!" The scamp that he is Jon knows perfectly well that his age will come up, and soon and he wants to be fully moved in and in possession of the knot and bed in the barracks before that time. The more firmly entrenched he is the least likely it will be that the action can be undone.
Waverly can only laugh again at Jon and his enthusiasm. She pushes a stray lock of hair back, tucking it behind her ear. "My cot is on the left side of the room when you just enter. It's the sixteenth one. My bag has a green ribbon holding it shut." The directions are to make certain he finds the appropriate spot to set up camp. "Congratulations, Jondeval," she adds sincerely before turning back to R'hyn, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You know I'm not Emani because.. oh.. No. Nevermind. He's a sweet kid," she murmurs, meaning Jondeval. Her smile returns as she settles back in her chair, taking up her mug. "Yeah. C'lan and I are friends. Did y'all come over at the same time?"
R'hyn, a little surprised, nods quickly towards Jondeval. "If you'd like," he agrees. "Go get your things, and we'll meet you there-- I mean," he adds towards Waverly, "If you'd like to accompany us. I could probably, you know, trust you two on your own, but I... like this bit." His smile is, for a moment, slightly goofy. "Because I know Emani. And I don't know you." R'hyn has turned his attention back to Waverly, a little hesitant at her narrowing eyes. "I came later, but I know him, a bit."
Jondeval grins happily at Waverly "Sixteenth cot on left with the bag with the green ribbon." he recites back in confirmation. "Thanks Waverly" Not waiting to be told again the boy bolts towards the lower caverns to gather his few possessions.
Jondeval heads through the short, sloping tunnel to the lower caverns.
Waverly nods quickly. "I'd like that. Very much," she tells him. "And I'd not even think of denying you the chance. I don't think I've ever seen him so excited." She blushes a little, her gaze dropping to her mug, watching her fingers tap against it. "I figured. You're both Istans. And she's friendly and stuff. So.. even if you weren't, you'd probably know her. He's great. Timlath too. Friendly but.. tries to keep a lot to himself." She shakes her head and then lifts her gaze again. "So what are you like?" The broad question is asked with a bright smile, the blue eyes shining with amusement.
"Good," says R'hyn, well pleased. "He obviously likes you a lot, too. Which is nice. I think... Well. The older girls used to tease me, when I was... his age. It's nice to see someone so excited - unrestrainedly so, even." He rubs at his stubble again, scratching an itch beneath it, and nods. "It's hard to miss Emani. And... C'lan. Yes. Nice, though." He flushes at her question, hesitating. "Um. You haven't made up your mind, already? I mean, most of the weyr seems to have."
Jondeval comes out the short, wide tunnel from the lower caverns.
"I'm very fond of Jondeval," she tells R'hyn. "He reminds me of one of my brothers." The mug is pushed aside, her hands falling to her lap and clasping there. Her expression softens somewhat as she shakes her head. "If you mean because you are Istan.. I am friends with C'lan," she reiterates. "It doesn't matter that much to me. I mean.. I'll confess that having so many Istans here is a bit.. No. It's not really even that. I think it's that.. alright.. if Ista were to suddenly host lots of Fortians and some of them even having pretty high positions.. I'd think that there'd be a bit of resentment there.." She shrugs. "But that's just the way it is. I don't have power though so.. it doesn't really bother me if I have friends who are Istan, you know?" If he meant anything other than where he's from, she's evidently clueless.
R'hyn nods, at Waverly's comments about Jondeval, then hesitates. "I get that-- really. At Ista, the Weyrleader was-- is, I guess - E'van, and he's Fortian. And that's only one. So I do understand. I'm sorry; I'm just a little used to people judging me. Deciding I'm horrible, without even meeting me. I'm not. I'm just... me, I guess. I have a girlfriend, and-- oh, and a daughter. I like music." It's a kind of lame explanation of himself, and he smiles a little blandly.
Jondeval hasn't lost any of his enthusiasm in his dash to go do a hurried packing job. Over his shoulder the lad carries a couple sacks stuffed with clothing and other odds and ends, his rush evident by the sock that dangles out of the opening of one of the bags. The boy detours to the food tables on his way out and snags a ripe redfruit from a basket before returning to R'hyn and Waverly.
Waverly's smile widens as she listens, nodding along. "A little girl? I've probably seen her when we've helped with nanny duties. What's she like?" she asks. "And who's your girl?" Playfulness returns to her tone, an eyebrow arching. "Or is it that too personal? You don't have to tell me," she assures, glancing over as Jon approaches again. "You sure you didn't forget anything?" she teases. "I only had one bag for myself."
R'hyn shakes his head, admitting, "Rhyena-- she's still at Ista. With my mother. I didn't want to disrupt her life more than it had been already. She's four." And he's clearly a proud - if absent - father. "Dix. Cardixa. Brownrider. She's..." R'hyn flushes, contentedly. "Um." He's saved by Jondeval's return, a smile creeping back onto his face. "Oh, but a boy has to have all his treasures."
Jondeval looks down at his bags worriedly "I just didn't want to forget anything" he explains, as if he lives on the opposite coast instead of a few hundred feet away. "If I left my stuff there Faelan will probably hide them or something. Shifting uncomfortably Jon looks from Waverly to R'hyn and back again, aware that he is probably interrupting something but not sure what.
Waverly grins at the flush but doesn't press anymore, letting Jondeval gain the attention. "I'd wager he's got every single one in there too," she returns amiably to R'hyn before shaking her head at Jon. "You're fine." She rises to her feet, glancing towards R'hyn's plate. "If you're ready.. I mean if you're not.. you know.."
"Fair enough," R'hyn assures Jondeval, nodding his head quickly. "Oh - and maybe some of Faelan's treaures, too?" he wonders, glancing teasingly at the younger boy. "Oh, absolutely. Ready. I was finished, anyway. It's all gone cold." He tidies his dishes together, but, as he stands, makes no move to take them back to the stacks. "Shall we, then?"
Jondeval shakes his head at R'hyn "No, nothing of Faelan's. She'd give me more then a black eye if I tried." he explains glumly. Shfting the sacks over his shoulder he waits impatiently for the two adults to finish their cleaning up "I'm ready" he says brightly. Again, stating the obvious. Emani gets a cocky grin from the boy "I have everything I own so I don't have to make more then one trip."
Waverly reaches for her mug, taking it up and noting the plate left there. "Y'all go on and I'll be right behind. I'm just going to get a refill," she tells them idly. "If you want one, I'll bring it with me," she offers R'hyn. "I'm not going to make him wait a moment more though."
R'hyn's lips quirk into a grin, right on the edge of laughter and he nods sagely. "Good sense, then. Can't risk injuries now you're a candidate." He glances back at Waverly, but shakes his head. "No-- thanks. I've had my one of the morning. We'll see you soon, then." Indicating the door to Jondeval, he concludes, "After you."
Jondeval smiles brightly at Waverly and, needing no more urging, he hurries out of the living caverns as if he isn't burdened with all his clothes and wordly goods.
Jondeval heads through the tunnel to the bowl.
You head out the tunnel to the bowl.
Jondeval is hurrying down the bowl carrying a couple of sacks over his shoulder and despite being so burdened he stays ahead of R'hyn.
R'hyn, to be sure, is hardly hurrying, keeping his stride only long enough to keep from completely losing his anxious companion. "You have /far/ too much energy," he notes, calling from a distance of half a dragonlength. "Especially for this time of the morning."
T'an emerges from the entrance to the candidate barracks, in company with someone wearing a Herder knot. "Yes, I can get some candidates to help with the repairs this afternoon. Thanks for finding a job for them!" The man laughs dryly and departs. T'an leans against the doorway and looks down the bowl for a few moments.
Jondeval looks back at the weyrleader and grins, turning around and walking backwards as he shivvies R'hyn "I don't have too much energy, you are just getting old." he suggests. With freined casualness he looks around to see if anyone is watching their progress and winces when T'an comes out of the candidate barracks.
"I resent that," insists R'hyn, good-naturedly, as he rolls his eyes. "I'm barely thirty!" Not the best comeback ever. He trots, attempting to catch up, and lifts an arm to wave at T'an. "T'an-- got another for you, if you can find room for him." He indicates the - admittedly, /very/ - young boy with his head.
T'an raises a hand to return something between a wave and a salute, but the limb freezes motionless as he sees the boy and R'hyn's words register." "Jondeval? A candidate?" He sounds surprised, and dropping the arm appears to take a tighter grip on his crutch. Perhaps he's going to need the support. "Well, yes, we have the room. Congratulations, Jon. We'll get you settled." Looking at the Weyrleader again, he asks with suspicion in his tone, "Um... does his mother know?"
Jondeval grins and rolls his eyes expressively at R'hyn "Yes, you are." he says agreeably. Mimicking the weyrleader he raises his arm in greeting to T'an "I'm supposed to get the empty cot next to Waverly's. It's the sixteenth one on the left." Very important business, where one is supposed to sleep. "Thanks T'an" Jon says politely, remembering his manners and trying to act as grown up as possible. "She doesn't know yet, she was busy in the infirmary." No doubt she'll hear the news soon enough.
R'hyn, apparently oblivious, merely smiles at T'an, nodding his head. "Arisvath doesn't pick many, but-- well. He liked Jon. So, here we are. Ah-- no, that's right. Finola's not yet been informed. I'm sure she'll be thrilled, though." Digging his hands into his pockets, he continues to move towards the barracks, the greenrider, and the newest candidate.
"Ah, right." T'an does not volunteer to be the one to tell her. He does straighten up from leaning against the wall and step aside to let the Weyrleader and Jondeval get into the barracks. "I'll put you on the list, and you can get your things unpacked."
Jondeval puffs proudly at the news that Arisvath doesn't pick many and he is one of the few "She'll be happy" is said agreeably. "I'll go tell her as soon as she gets out of the infirmary." Following R'hyn now he starts towards the barracks and beams happily at T'an "I get to go on the chores list too, right?"
"You WANT to go on the chores list?" remarks R'hyn, surprised. He doesn't seem particularly fussed about telling Finola, and obliviously makes his way into the barracks.
You head into the Candidate barracks.
T'an comes in from the bowl.
Jondeval comes in from the bowl.
"You certainly do." T'an makes his way to the tackboard and removes a list that's pinned to it, then to the table where several other hides are resting along with pen and ink. It's a quick job for the ex-scribe to add Jondeval's name to the register. "And you're from Fort Weyr, of course." That's added. "As you know Waverly, I'll put you in the same chore group. That means you get a rest day today. Time to get settled and talk to your mother."
Despite the late hour and the lack of candidates about, there's still a few left in their cots here and there, either oversleeping or on restday. A few are smart enough to struggle awake when they hear activity; most are not that alert yet. One of these is Emani in her corner cot, still under her blnakets, only tousled blonde hair visible.
Jondeval peers at T'an's work with a pleased look on his face "That will be fine, I like Waverly." R'hyn gets a shrug of his shoulders "The candidates always seem to have a lot of fun doing the chores so it can't be that bad." Walking down the row of cots Jon counts them off until he comes to the empty one next to Waverly's that he was told about. Dropping his bags onto the cot he looks around with interest at his home for the next while.
"Oh. I suppose," says R'hyn, standing near the door, a little out of place now that he's in here, though he watches T'an with an expression of satisfaction, interrupted by a brief glance about the room. "I guess you can take it from here, T'an?" he wonders, glancing back. "I just-- should go, do some things. And, um... Congratulations, Jondeval."
T'an blots the ink, then tips the sand back into the box, looking up at the Weyrleader as he does so. He hesitates a moment, glances along the row of curtains to check where Jondeval's gone, then gathers his words. "R'hyn, I... Thank you for this." He taps the new-looking knot that's at his shoulder. "I do appreciate the opportunity."
R'hyn, just about to sneak out, turns back around, and smiles. "You're welcome, T'an. You're obviously doing a good job-- and, you know. It's good to keep people busy." But he looks really, really pleased.
T'an laughs. "It is. I was getting terribly bored before I started doing this!" He nods towards the candidates and their cubicles, then smiles at the Weyrleader again before glancing back to his lists.
Jondeval scopes out the area and wanders back towards T'an and R'hyn slowly, checking out the occupants of the cots as he goes. Stuffing his hands into his pockets Jon looks enormously pleased with the mornings outcome "Hey T'an, can I have a knot? One of the white ones so I can go show my friends. They are going to be so jealous."
"I can hardly begin to imagine," says R'hyn, head shaking. "You have more patience than I." With this, taking one glance back at Jondeval - and smiling - he slips out.
You head out to the bowl.
Waverly heads towards the candidate barracks, a mug of klah in her hands. It's held awayfrom her body, trying to be careful not to spill it as she walks. Her expression is even brighter than usual.
R'hyn, a brilliant smile on his face, hurries from the candidate barracks to the Weyrleader Complex, without pausing to notice anyone else.
You head into the Weyrleader complex.
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