Okay, this is my original post from the Lower Caverns. It was originally set to await Contrition's response, but at Stormy's urging to get the candidate RPs moving, I decided to move the post here and throw it open to anyone who wants to respond.

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A slim figure shivered in the shadows of the unwelcoming peaks high above. He didn't feel any more at ease here, in a rocky crevice beside the entrance to the Lower Caverns, than he had out on the mind-reeling flat space of the Weyr floor, where dragons took off, landed, ate, and Faranth knew what else. He was used to seeing dragons in the sky. He didn't realize they were so sharding big. Why, he barely stood as high as the elbow of the great green creature that had brought him to the Weyr only minutes before, and he knew greens were the smallest dragons.

Jalderyk shivered all over, a long shudder that was as much a reminder to get a grip as it was a physical expression of discomfort.

More like completely and totally out of place, he thought. What business had he here? He had never dreamed of riding a dragon. Well ... he had once seen a bronze in the sky when he was very young, leading a sweep wing after a particularly nasty Threadfall over the hills, and the size and majesty of the great dragon compared to his fellows had imprinted itself on the boy's memory. But to be selected as a Candidate? Unthinkable. He was Jalderyk, shepherd's lad, educated only four times a Turn when the Harper came through - even if he did pick up everything faster than his five siblings combined. His parents weren't even proper Beastholders. He spent his days in the hills, tending the flocks, alone with his thoughts and with the foothills and sky of Pern.

In short, he was nobody.

Except that a green dragon had found him trying to scare off a pack of wherries from his flock, and she had Searched him. Him. Searched.

So suddenly he was Jalderyk, Candidate.

"And," he muttered aloud, suddenly disgusted with himself, "Still a nobody if you don't get your arse moving. Candidate in a Weyr where no one knows your name, and isn't likely to if you don't do something to change it."

He gave himself a little shake. Not the shiver of a moment earlier. A shake, and pried himself away from the wall, hitching the battered rucksack that contained everything he owned higher on his shoulder. It wasn't much. The rucksack was light. Change of clothes for everyday, a comb for his unruly hair, and a twist of lamb's wool braided into a leather thong to remind him of home. He'd left his Gather clothing after discovering that the trousers were well above his ankles and the shirt would not lace closed over his broadening chest.

Jalderyk ran a hand through his hair, further rumpling the curls, and walked through the tall, wide mouth of the Lower Caverns for all Pern as if he'd been there before.

Naturally, he became lost almost at once. This place was just too big for a lad used to a two-room stone cot and the wide-open hills. He barked his toes on a rough stone and limped on, cursing, following the glowbaskets set at intervals along the wide corridor. Sooner or later he was bound to meet another living soul, he was certain. With luck, it would be someone who could tell him where he was supposed to go, who to report to, what to do next.

The halls were dark, the glows within their baskets mostly putting off their dying lights. Every now and then, one of them would flicker before dying out, passing eerie shadows across the stone floor. Darker, darker, but finally a bright light could be seen around one corner, and a shape.. the shape of a person..


Zaela could hear the slight scuffling of awkward footsteps, but she wouldn't look up just yet. Instead, she finished neatly placing the fresh glows into its basket, tossing the old glows back into the bag. There'd be no chance of mistaking a dead glow for a bright one, so she saw no need to separate them. It had been a while since the glows had been replaced, and it wasn't for the neglect of drudge or candidate, but rather the candidatemaster forgetting to give the assignment. The candidate had played along when an irate Headwoman asked if Nako had sent her, or if she had forgotten. She'd taken the fall, of course, saying she had been late. Nako truly was a good woman and a hard worker, but planning was not her strongest point.

The awkward, limping footseps were coming closer, and Zaela could make out the figure of a tall lad, walking oddly out of the shadows of the corridor with a gait to match the footbeats. His gait worried her slightly. Had he injured himself? "Excuse me sir, are you in need of any assistance?"


(( Easy access to her description:
Zaela's Desc ))

She nearly startled him out of his skin, appearing out of the shadows like that. And she was pretty, in the curvy way of the eldest daughter of the closest hold to his own ... Blannia had a throaty chuckle and called herself a milkmaid. It was because she milked the herdbeasts and sold the milk, cream, and cheese to traders, of course. But a few turns ago, Jalderyk had suddenly begun blushing and staring at Blannia's chest whenever she mentioned the term...

He shook himself, like a dog. What in all the green hills of Pern was he doing, lost and now daydreaming? He was a candidate in a Weyr now. Not a simple shepherd's lad. And everyone had always said he was outstanding, too smart for that kind of work.

However, standing face to face with Zaela and all her ripe curves, her expression gentle and innocent as a lamb's, Jalderyk felt himself to be quite the ignorant rube.

So he covered it up with humor.

"Do you usually pop out of between to scare simple country folk like that?" He gave her a small bow. "And yes, I do need help ... I seem to have gotten lost. I'm supposed to find the Candidate Barracks, I think." Noting the bulging sack she carried, the long golden youth held out his hand to her. "My name's Jalderyk. If you'd be so kind as to show me my way, I'd be more than happy to carry that heavy bag."

As the lad came closer, Zaela was able to get a good look at the lad. He was taller than her, wiry and masculine as he should be. One couldn't deny the lad was cute, and the curls adorable, and also couldn't help but note that he was most likely younger than her. That made her feel slightly awkward, but he spoke as soon as he had walked up to her, catching her attention away from her silent appraisal.

A smile curled her lips, a rather genuine look of amusement instead of a typical social smile. "I'm Zaela, and I'd be happy to show you.." She held out the bag, her expression now turning gently coy. "But I haven't much more to go with these glows.. perhaps you'd accompany me for the last dragonlength I have to go?" She glanced up at him, almost sheepishly, as if she might be asking too much. "It's just that my superiors would be quite upset with me if I don't finish this up; I was already late beginning." Zaela chose against mentioning how it wasn't her fault she had been late, since the Candidatemaster had never informed any of the candidates of the task. Such details would be unimportant, and unimportant details should always be kept to oneself.. or so she had been taught.

"Sure I will," Jalderyk replied, his grin coming easier now. This was a little more what he was used to: a pretty girl smiling coquettishly at him (he didn't often see girls, but those smiles seemed to happen a lot at gathers), rather than stepping suddenly out of thin air and scaring the wits out of him. "But I insist on carrying the bag." He hitched his carisak higher on his shoulder and reached out for the strings that held the bag closed, his fingers brushing against hers. "I'm pleased to meet you, Zaela." His voice seemed too loud in the quiet, warm stillness of the catacombs.

As he started to follow her obediently along the corridors, now more brightly lit with the glows she'd replaced, Jalderyk wondered about her words. Not the most graceful of social creatures, the teenager asked, "Who are your superiors? And why did you start late? I'd figured you for a dragonrider, sneaking up on me like that. Usually I've got very sharp ears."

"Oh, everyone is my superior. Candidates start from the ground up, you know. I'd even say that we have to treat drudges with some level of respect, if not seniority..." A pause, and then she laughed, but the sound seemed a bit sour ringing against the walls. "A dragonrider? Oh, well I suppose it's possible, since I was Searched..." But strangely, she didn't sound particularly pleased, but suppressed any overbearing amount of disdain. Still, she couldn't force herself to sound excited.

He had asked about why she had turned up late, and she offered a smile, as if this would placate most questions. "Just a mix-up in the schedule. All will be resolved though; it is nothing to worry about." Then she would stop at one of the baskets of glows, whose lights were obviously dim compared to the ones she had just replaced. Zaela flipped open the basket deftly and pulled the dimming orbs out, turning to Jalderyk. "Just hold the bag open for me and I'll do what I need to do. You truly are a welcome help." She stooped slightly to pick a handful of glows out of the bag he held, tossing the dimglows into the mix.

(taking every assumption that he did as told.. hehe.)

Feeling uneasy about some of her answers she had given him, especially her less than happy response about the subject of dragonriding, she began to interrogate him instead. "So, if you don't mind me inquiring, what Hold are you from?"

Jalderyk held the bag open obediently for Zaela to deposit the dimming glows. He listened carefully to everything she said, heard the flat tone in her voice when she spoke of being Searched, and looked at her with growing surprise. He squirmed a little when she asked where he was from, and decided to get that over with as quickly as possible so that they could get back to the far more interesting subject of candidacy.

"Me? Oh, my family's got a small hold in the hills beyond Tregad. Border country between Tiazora's and Kharasi's wings. So I'm just a simple shepherd's son." Together, they moved on down the corridor to replace more glows.

Jalderyk's bright curiosity and uncomplicated social sense made it impossible for him to keep quiet any longer. "It's funny to hear you say that candidates must answer even to drudges. And here I thought I was taking a big step up in the world, being Searched and brought here." He chuckled self-deprecatingly, then grew suddenly thoughtful. "Is that what bothers you about being Searched? That we have no rank? Or is it something else?"

Zaela's hand paused as she had started to bring it up to the basket to deposit new glows in, brows furrowing and marring her serene expression as she tried to think of how to reply. "Oh no, nothing like that.... I was never really of rank myself. I was... as you would say, 'a simple farmer's daughter'." She mimicked his tone when she said that, but followed up with a smile. "But then, simplicity isn't always a bad thing.... I was hoping for a simpler life myself. To be able to marry." She blushed heavily despite herself. Normally she wouldn't speak of such things to men, but what could she do when his questions were so candid, and so difficult to avoid? Being overly revealing to the opposite sex seemed easier than denying them information at that point and time.

But, she had more to say on the subject of candidacy. "But I don't think it's such a bad thing that you start from the bottom. It very effectively strips rank from many of those that have come from Holder families. They literally strip you of your knots and give you new ones... and you earn your way up by Impressing." Of course, not being Weyrbred, she really didn't know what was after Impressing. There had been talking of becoming Weyrlings, which she understood the basic concept of having to learn about dragons as they grew up... but nothing of what rank that put you at. Since this was the first clutch at Kharasi, there certainly weren't Weyrlings around to really learn from.

Jalderyk replied to this candor with a shrug and an amiable grin. "Well, I'm used to being on the bottom." He gave Zaela a long, measured look. "Nothing wrong with being a simple son or daughter, or even ... wanting to marry." He thought fleetingly of Blannia and blushed, hoping Zaela didn't notice in the dim corridor. "Besides..." he trailed off, his mind latching onto his first serious thought since he'd arrived at the Weyr. Simple shepherd's son ... who was he to presume to be good enough? "Just being Searched is no guarantee of being a rider, is it? I might not Impress at all." He shrugged again, but his nonchalance was forced. Truly, he did not know whether he was worthy. He was still in shock at finding himself eligible for Candidacy when he had never presumed to hope to be a dragonrider. But now that he thought about it, it would be a terrible thing to stand at a Hatching and be found wanting. He'd seen the look in the Search rider's eyes when she spoke to her dragon. And it left him curious.

He cocked his head at Zaela, considering. "We're about done with the glows. I should find the Candidate master and report my presence. After that, from what you tell me, it will be endless chores. But you're -- do you have any free time once we finish the glows? You're my first friend here, Zaela, and if you're up to it, well," he trailed off, his eyes gleaming at her in the reflected light of glows. "What's the one thing every candidate wants most to see or do around here?"

For a moment, Zaela was worried that this new acquaintance was wishing to be rid of her, probably regretting his hospitality towards her. However, he would surprise her by asking her if she'd like to spend more time with him. Despite herself, she found herself staring at him as if he had two heads, almost not registering his second question. Zaela gave herself a small shake, and chuckled a bit. She was feeling quite foolish, and rather inept at dealing with such a situation.

She caught herself in her mental musings and became quite flustered. Oh, she hoped he didn't think he was giggling at him! "Oh, um well, some of the candidates fancy a swim sometimes. Other than that, we socialize in the candidates commons... Generally our only time to ourselves is mealtimes, before bed.. oh and the mid-day break.. oh, I've started babbling.."

Zaela drew in a breath, composing herself before looking up at the tall lad. "But.. supposedly after dinner, we could talk more? Or tomorrow we could watch the dragons bathe at the lake...." Hastily, she added, "But you wanted to go see the candidatemaster. Come, I'll show you the way."

Jalderyk stared at Zaela, taken aback by her sudden loss of control. How in the world had he managed to fluster her so? He had only asked her a simple question. Then again, his sister Alakla was forever chiding him that he was far too direct. "All the subtlety of a proddy green dragon," she'd laugh whenever he managed to offend someone.

But at Zaela's mention of the Candidate Master, Jalderyk suddenly grinned and shook his head. "No, no, wait!" He held up his hands beseechingly to her, a chuckle forming in his throat. "I meant, isn't there anything we can do before I meet the Candidate Master and get assigned all my duties?" He stared into her eyes, willing her to divine what he was thinking without him having to say it. "I saw the lake on my way in, and I bet I'll be spending a lot of time in the common room." The tall lad lowered his voice and gave Zaela a conspiratorial wink; she was still staring at him uncertainly. "What I haven't seen, ever, never in my life, Zaela ... are dragon eggs." He nudged her with his elbow, careful not to spill the glows out of the now-bulging sack she carried.

Then he stepped back with a self-admonishing grimace. "Of course, if you think we'll get in too much trouble..." he trailed off, letting her decide.

At that, she grew even redder, lips pursing with a frustration that usually old aunties would show before berating a child. "Oh, so you want to run away from these duties to go see those eggs, and I thought you were in a hurry to get settled!" Her words would have seemed much more severe if her lips hadn't betrayed her and broke into a smile. Still, she waggled her finger, wishing to cause him guilt if only to ease her intense embarrassment at misunderstanding him.

What he said next, made her frown a bit. 'if you think we'll get in too much trouble...' she pondered this. Slowly, her 'yes sir, no sir' attitude was waning away, feeling more at ease with him as his good natured ways broke down her defenses. Personally, she really had no desire to see the eggs. She had actually been dreading seeing them, thinking that they would further seal her fate to become a dragonrider. Measuring him up and gauging his thoughts, she decided he seemed more genuinely hopeful that sinisterly challenging her gall. Still giving him a thoughtful look, she spoke with emphasis, and even an air of pride. "I never do anything with direct knowledge that it would put me in some sort of trouble. That is why I always.. find a way to stay out of it." For the first time in a while, her smile curled into something that was almost mischievous, but it was quickly erased with a demure, soft smile as she beckoned with a curl of her fingers, heading down the corridor. "Come, we will drop off these glows, and inquire about the Weyrwomans lunch and if she has someone to bring it to her. They often give the task to eager candidates since most are too busy preparing the meal for the Weyr to take time to bring it to her. Some believe it's slightly for the candidates benefit as well. I suppose as long as she doesn't send Iolath after anyone for this, they'll continue to make a habit out of it."

They rounded a corridor that led them into a busy room, filled with frantic drudges and cooks. Zaela gestured for Jalderyk to set down the bag by the door, and then stepped into the fray, petulantly gaining ones attention with stammering and dancing out of their way when they'd dart here and there. "E-excuse me, .. I.. has the Weyrwomans lunch been delivered yet, I don't think she'd like it to be late again this evening.. I.. she wasn't happy.. er.." It was sheer luck she remembered what a candidate had said when they were an hour late after mealtime bringing the food in to the Weyrwoman. The woman was spending her days with her queen, though she had finally begun to pry herself out for dinners, and to sleep in her own Weyr some nights.

The cook gave her such an incredulous look, that she though she had erred in some way. How stupid she would have felt, if they had already sent it to her. "Oh, she told you candidates to come complainin' to me? Well, I'm doin' the best I can, oh.. Martle, get the Weyrwoman's lunch ready. Ah don't need her comin' up here breathin' fire about not having her food." The strain in the womans voice made Zaela almost feel bad for going through with this plan. A tray was shoved into her hands, and a large pot of klah would be held dumbly towards Zaela. Staring at it, she managed to stammer, this time genuinely caught off guard. "I.. my hands are full."

"Oh, for the love of Faranth.. You, you there! Carry this. If the Weyrwoman doesn't get her klah, Pern crumbles." And it was unceremoniously shoved into his hands. The cook didn't dally though, and merely emphasized they should be quick before it gets cold.

"I'm.. almost surprised that worked so smoothly." Zaela murmured to Jalderyk as she slinked back into the corridor and out of the chaos.

(haha, this was a bit of a stretch. XD lol))

((Oh yes. I'm having a delicious time stretching poor Zaela's emotional limits. And to think I intended Jalderyk to be such a workaholic good twoshoes! Perhaps he's trying to make the stretch, too ... either that, or all this newfound excitement of being in a real Weyr has gone to his head. I would not have imagined him being so audacious as to break the rules. Then again, he's a bit of a rube, and probably doesn't know what the rules are.))

Jalderyk's brow furrowed when Zaela mentioned finding a way to stay out of trouble. Now he was the one on uncertain ground. And when she smiled like that, her eyes twinkling, he wasn't sure whether she was agreeing to his invitation of conspiracy, or intending to turn him in. But before he could ask, she had quirked her fingers at him and bounced away down the corridor, lugging the sack of glows.

Because there was nothing else for it, Jalderyk followed in her wake, feeling like a lost lamb. But, he reasoned, he may as well brace himself for the worst. And he did, when Zaela emerged into the well-lighted bustle of the kitchen cavern. He just stood there behind her, blinking rather stupidly, trying to follow her suddenly diffident conversation. Just who was this girl, and how many faces did she wear? She sounded deferential and shy before the cook, when just moments ago she had given Jalderyk such a look of pure mischief. He marveled at her duplicity.

He was surprised when the food try was thrust into his hands, and only managed to hang on by reflex. Feeling suddenly guilty, he dropped his eyes and nodded dumbly as the cook berated him. But the punishment he half-expected never came, and so he relaxed a fraction, long enough to follow Zaela at a trot out the back entrance to the kitchens.

Now that it was quieter, he breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief, and cast an admiring glance at Zaela. "Smoothly? What, you didn't plan that?" He had to restrain a crow of laughter. "Zaela, I could hug you. I'd never in a million Turns have thought of that. Talk about hiding your intention in plain sight!" He increased his pace until his was striding confidently alongside her, still shaking his head in admiration of her guile. "Remind me to never get on your bad side! I'd never know what hit me. Now, where do we go from here?" They had appeared again at the edge of the Weyr Bowl, although at a different location than he'd entered the Lower Caverns. "I swear, I'll be getting lost here forever."

((Yes, and she's certainly stretching in ways I hadn't foreseen. o_o I'm glad I'm actually rping her in different situations to 'settle in' her personality.))

Zaela allowed herself to be smug, and even was able to keep herself from becoming too terribly flustered at his comments of hugging her. "A womans best power is to manipulate her surroundings. It's up to her good judgment and morals not to be malicious with such a gift." She chanted it as if it were some teaching, her face holding such a somber expression that it could be nothing but a bit mocking. And, as usual, she couldn't keep the grin from her face at the end of it. "You'll get used to the maze, I promise" She gestured to the cavernous mouth at the end of the Weyr, large enough for countless dragons to swoop in at once. "Down there; that's the hatching grounds."

So there they were now, walking towards the very place Zaela had been avoiding. Somehow, this lad had definitely swayed her out of the ordinary. She caught herself looking at him, and quickly turned her attention back to the worn pathway ahead. "I don't really know if I want to be a dragonrider." She admitted. It would seem quite a random profession, but it was surely a thing that was churning through her mind as they approached the hatching grounds. "But my parents were so thrilled... is it bad of me to not want to lead the glorious life of a dragonrider?"

Her question was such a good one, and it was so close to what Jalderyk had been thinking himself, that he nearly forgot to keep stride with Zaela. Fortunately, the firm footing of the worn path caught him before he could stumble, drifting off as he was, his head cocked to one side as he thought her question over.

"No..." he said hesitantly. "I mean, I don't know. No, it's not wrong." This more firmly, and when she looked at him quizzically, he laughed and shook his head, loose curls bouncing. "I don't think it's wrong, Zaela, and I'm kinda glad you can tell me. Makes me feel better about it myself. See, I'm not sure I deserve to be a dragonrider. Sure, I was Searched. So were you. To the dragons, we're capable, right? But we don't measure ourselves the same way." He dug his thumb into his chest. "Me, I'm just a regular kid from the border country between hill and mountain. Maybe I picked things up a little faster than the other kids. But I never dreamed I'd have the chance to fly on dragonback and fight Thread! I mean, it's just totally out of my realm. I can't even imagine doing it now."

He trailed off, aware that he was speaking too fast, too loudly. With the patience he'd learned from herding obstinate stupid ovines, he allowed his thoughts to come together before he opened his mouth again. This time, he spoke more slowly. "And at the same time, the chance to Impress is more than an opportunity. It's the chance to help save our world in the most direct way there is." He shook his head, not looking at her, his eyes far away. "It seems to me that it's a big, scary responsibility more than anything else. I just hope that I'm up to it, if I do Impress." He touched her shoulder briefly. "But no, it's not wrong to be less than thrilled about the prospect, I don't think."

Zaela merely listened to him, her expression changing to puzzlement every now and then. She found herself wanting to tell him that the dragons are always right that the person has potential, and that a dragon wouldn't have picked him if his destiny had not at least carved that option as a fork in the road that he could take.. but instead of saying it, it made her reflect more on her own thoughts towards her own potential Impression. Was this truly what she was meant to do? It made her feel guilty, but sadly, she still didn't feel some strange revelation that would make her -want- to be a dragonrider. One might even say that she was hoping that there would be some stirring within her soul, some inner desire for a dragon would be rekindled by her own guilt... but there was still nothing but dread and fear.

Then, he said something that made her face go completely blank. "Yes. A big, scary responsibility. Too big." She felt a little bit disgusted with herself. "Jalderyk... I... I only had ever expected to be a wife. A gentle, wise, loving wife. I was to have children and raise them to be good farmhands, to till the soil and to.. oh, I've never thought outside that plan."

She had slowed down, and was now looking at him. "Look at me. I'm older than almost all the candidates here. I shouldn't even be here. Why couldn't they have found me when I was younger? When I -wanted- something more?" She might have flung herself upon him for comfort had they not been holding trays of food, but she showed restraint. "I actually was starting to -want- to raise a family. I think it's cruel to be chosen after the childish fancies have worn off."

"I honestly don't know what to say, Zaela. Looks like there's nothing that's going to make either of us feel better." He shrugged lightly, mindful of the overfull tray he carried. "I guess life doesn't get any easier when you grow up, does it? Just more complicated, with more choices."

They had arrived at the Hatching Cavern and he stood politely aside, waiting for her to go first. Anyway, he had no idea how to behave around the Weyrwoman, and brazenly stepping into her presence with the hidden intent of getting a good look at the eggs was bold beyond even his scheming. Best to let Zaela, the mastermind, lead the way.

Jalderyk dropped his voice to a murmur. "Kind of ironic how a dragon, without any ability to be cruel, can inflict cruelty along with the honor of being Searched. Neither of us asked for this, did we?" His grin was wry, but nevertheless his heart beat faster when he thought of the clandestine glimpse of dragon eggs he and Zaela were about to get.

Zaela frowned slightly. Indeed, their complaints about it really didn't get them anywhere since there was no way in solving it, but somehow, she felt better about talking about it. "Well, I'm just glad that I was at least able to get the feelings off my chest. Thanks for suffering through it."

She stalled a bit before going through the great cavern mouth, taking in a breath before proceeding. She could hear Jalderyk's footsteps behind her on the stone flooring, which was probably the only thing that kept her from glancing back just to make sure he hadn't abandoned her. Iolath had already looked up at them, eyes whirling with hues that Zaela had learned weren't a good sign. The Weyrwoman was indeed there, hunched over some hides she was overlooking. Bowing carefully to the queen, careful not to spill the contents on her tray, she spoke out. "Weyrwoman, we have your lunch ready for you."

At first, the woman jumped, startled by the announcement as she had been so absorbed in her work that she hadn't even noticed them. "We?" The tone was sour, and it made Zaela cringe. "Yes. It's difficult to bring both food and klah when there is only one person. May we come onto the sands?" Zaela still waited upon the stone stairway, not daring to trod upon the sands without permission. That was Zaela's way; watch every step, question every move.

Alesia folded her arms, making a great show of looking toward her dragon, who merely huffed and lay down her head. Had she possibly been asking her queen if she were comfortable with this intrusion? This struck Zaela as odd, since she had always figured that the dragons would more or less obey the rider. Maybe queens were expecially strong minded? The Weyrwoman's curt tone cut through her thoughts. "You may. If only because you brought a thirsty woman klah." Ah yes, a touch of dry humor; a good sign.

Smiling broadly, Zaela gestured that Jalderyk follow. He had no doubt been ogling the eggs, and she didn't want him to topple over himself if he wasn't paying attention. Laying it on rather thick, she gave the gold another nodding bow, but the gold didn't seem very interested in her. Instead, she busied herself with setting down the tray on a table nearby. Well, now what would she do? She dared a glance towards the eggs, but looked away, as if afraid they'd hatch upon sight. Now, the Weyrwoman was looking at them, arms crossed. There was a pause, and Zaela had to think fast. "Is this all you'll need of us, Weyrwoman?"

--
Alesia was no dumb woman; she knew what these candidates were up to. It was what every single other candidate was wanting; a glimpse of the eggs. This frustrated her mildly, but she'd put up with it until the official Egg Touching. After that though, she had half a mind to ban any candidates from running errands into the Hatching Grounds... even if it meant that Alesia would have to spend less time here.

At the question from the female candidate, she paused. Did she in fact need anything run to the headwoman? She had been reading the reports on tithings, and it wasn't faring well. Why did such horrid things have to happen during such a wonderful occasion of eggs being on the sands? Gesturing for them to wait a moment, she turned to her cot and began rummaging around. Now, she was quite sure she had placed the orders for next tithing -somewhere-....

--

Zaela glanced towards Jalderyk and made a gesture that basically meant 'well, enjoy!' as the Weyrwoman turned their backs to them, now looking for whatever she was looking for. With nothing else to do, she allowed her own gaze to slide towards the eggs, if only because her -not- wanting to look at them actually made her with to look in that direction. They ranged from very large, to not quite so daunting. Many of them had pretty patterns. Would dragons truly hatch from those spherical shells?

Jalderyk, himself nobody's fool, watched Zaela carefully from the moment they entered the Hatching Cavern. After daring a pat on the girl's shoulder and assuring her that her troubles had caused him no suffering, he took a deep breath and followed her through the stone arch.

Like Zaela, Jalderyk bowed to Iolath. In truth, it was hard not to. The golden queen commanded the cavern, spacious as it was. She crouched regally among her eggs, neck arched proudly, her head raised eyes watching them alertly as they shifted, fast, through a myriad of warning colors. She was gorgeous! Jalderyk felt his mouth go dry, and held his bow, feeling a little as if he should set down the tray in order to give Iolath his full respect. But Zaela was talking now. He nodded very slightly to himself, noting the way she asked Alesia whether they could come onto the sands. He'd have to remember her methods.

At Alesia's response, Jalderyk's attention shifted to the Weyrwoman. She looked tired, with small worry lines creasing her brow, as she sat up from the hides she was perusing to look them over. Her gaze was calm, but he felt as if she could flay away his pretense with her eyes, as if she knew exactly why they were there. He shifted uncomfortably. Were dragonriders telepathic to humans as well?

His discomfort vanished once Alesia turned away from them and Zaela eyed him meaningfully. Only then did Jalderyk dare to glance away from the Weyrwoman. Keeping his eyes averted also from the zealous golden form of Iolath, he drank in the sight of the eggs. So many! And so many sizes and colors - he had no idea that dragon eggs could vary so widely. The wherry eggs he'd seen had all been uniformly yellowish-tan in appearance. But then - he checked himself for thinking such a foolish thing - dragons were certainly not wherries. He looked and looked for the time it took him to breathe three times, and then Alesia stirred again. Quickly, Jalderyk shifted his eyes to her, praying he'd gotten away with his clandestine peek.

He couldn't resist a subtle elbow into Zaela's ribs, nor suppress a quick grin. Under the eyes of Weyrwoman and queen dragon, no less! His new friend had cunning far beyond her smooth face and demure wish for a quiet life.