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Southern Winds Weyr

Author Topic: The Choice is Mine [02.09.2578 | 8am] SOLO  (Read 162 times)

Offline Kyrrin

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The Choice is Mine [02.09.2578 | 8am] SOLO
« on: May 15, 2018, 03:32:04 PM »
“Go on then, gather your gear and get back here.” The dragonrider reaches out to give her a gentle push back towards the hold and she takes a few steps before she even realises what he said.

There's a whirl of dust around her as his dragon leaps for the sky, making her cover her face to avoid breathing it in and the rider is striding away before she can see clearly again, his form quickly lost in the throng of people moving about the hold at this time in the morning. She glares at his back for a long moment before turning her scorching gaze on the beast responsible for her current predicament as it lands on the fire heights. Sharding dragons. The blue beast doesn't even look her way from his lofty perch, instead settling down for a nap in the sun like he hasn't just made her day a huge mess.

Even worse is that word seems to have spread, there are several slaps on the back as she stomps through the caverns and she slides out from under congratulating hugs and well wishes. Does what she want not matter? Do they really think that she might actually consider going off to try and live all the time with a sharding beast that can't do its job is a good idea?

Why would she want to actually bond to one? Shards, it'd probably throw itself into between and not come back if it actually chose her as a rider. Then there's the fact that she has no wish to fight thread. Dragonriders created that problem, they can deal with it. She's a miners daughter, thank you very much. If she's lucky she might be able to get a Wher, that'd be far more useful. They see better in the dark, can tell when there's bad air or not safe rocks, and they actually fit in the mines. Can't take a dragon down a mine.

Father gives her a long look when he enters, his quick mind no doubt taking in the lack of carisack and packing that might suggest she is planning to leave and he pulls out a chair and joins her at the table where she's settled down.

“Should you not be getting ready?” He asks, reaching over the table to poke her nearest arm when she takes too long to answer.

She fiddles with the hem of one sleeve. “No. I'm not going.” She frowns. “I mean, I don't have to go, right?” She can refuse, that's what mother always said, just because the dragon said you could go, didn't mean you had to.

“No.” He runs a hand over his face and she realises he should be on shift right now, they must have sent word down that she'd been searched. “You don't have to go if you don't want to.” He's trying to be neutral, she can tell. He doesn't want her to go, just like he didn't want Tharik (Th'rik now. Maybe. She's not sure if she's remembered that right and she hasn't cared to ask about him or his dragon, he'll always be Tharik to her) to go to the Weyr either. Yet at the same time he seems almost disappointed. Does he really want her gone? She supposes it would be easier if she wasn't around. The Weyr would be responsible for feeding and clothing her if she left and that would be a lot less strain on him. It can't be easy to feed two on just his earnings. She almost asks that. But then, she's not sure she truly wants to know the answer either way.

There's silence for a long moment before he gets up, and she follows suit when he opens his arms in a silent invitation. “You need to tell the rider that you're not going.” She nods, her murmur of assent lost against his chest. She'd miss this too if she left. He'd be all alone with no one else left, not with mother and Tharyan gone and Tharik abandoning them. No, she couldn't just leave him. He releases her after a moment longer and waves a hand at the door. “Go on, better to just get it done.”

That's easier said than accomplished. It takes her a while to find him - she might have been better off just going back to where his dragon decided she'd be a good rider and wait for him there - but she catches sight of him in the main hall just before she decides on that course of action.

It takes a moment to catch his attention, when she gets it he glances at her, then again a second time, slower, taking in the lack of extra possessions and he excuses himself from the conversation he was in with some holder she doesn't recognise more than as a passing face.

She raises her head, looking the Rider in the eye despite him being a head taller, she has no reason to be sorry at all. “I refuse your search, Rider.” She can be polite. When she has to be. Not, she will admit, that it is often required. Miners aren't exactly the politest bunch most of the time.

There's a surprised gasp from behind her. No doubt somebody coming to congratulate her. She does not turn to look at whoever it is. It's not important. What they think isn't important. This is her decision to make. Not theirs. They aren't the ones that would have to live with a dragon forever there to remind them that they're part of a dying race that is slowly failing in it's only task.

“You're sure?” He asks, not that she can fault him for that. His clothing may be old, but it's well tended and his dragons harness looked to be new. She feels drab in comparison, her clothing only a few fights away from being a total loss, her haphazard sewing clearly visible where she's patched holes. The Weyr is still an attractive option, even with the thought of thread.

“Yes. Very sure.” So very, very sure indeed. She doesn't need a dragon. She's just fine as she is. “Besides, dragons are the ones to blame for destroying Pern, why would I want to be part of that legacy.” She can't resist adding the parting shot before she strides off, ignoring the exclamations of surprise that follow her out the door.
« Last Edit: June 07, 2018, 10:53:18 AM by SirAlahn »
Kyrrinsk is 3.0M Long and 1.2M High


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