Opening the door slowly, Sentinol peeked in and was relieved to see the Barracks were empty. He closed the door gently and chose a bed near the middle of the room that appeared to be unoccupied. Hefting his bag carefully to the floor, he knelt cautiously, very aware of how cramped the area between the beds was for a person of his size. Pulling out a pair of trousers from his bag, his elbow collided with the bed behind him, shoving it a few inches out of place. He stifled an oath and rubbed his bruised arm ruefully. He was more than used to treading carefully, intensely aware of how a careless motion from his muscled form could easily cause havoc, but new placed always offered challenges until he got used to moderating his movements. He suspected that was why he loved being out in the open with nothing around but a runnerbeast under him. If took more than someone his size to injure the sturdy creatures his father bred, and there was little he could bump into outside. Efficiently emptying his bag, he was nearly done putting his things away when the door to the Barracks swang open with a crash as it hit the wall behind him. Sentinol leaped up in startlement, nearly knocking the small footlocker over in his haste. Spinning around, his deep brown eyes fell upon a short redheaded boy lounging against the door frame, grinning widely in amusement.

"Boy, I almost thought you'd jump out the ceiling, you leaped so high. Have you ever competed in the jump dance at Gathers? I'd wager you would win." The boy grinned and sauntered into the room, flopping down on the bed next to Sentinol. "So what's your name, newcomer?" Sentinol frowned and surveyed the boy uneasily, as a runnerbeast would watch an unfamiliar intruder entering its stable. "I'm Sentinol. And that was a mean trick." He added sullenly. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." The redhead merely laughed. "I know, I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. I'm Alsalam. But you can call me Al. Until I Impress, at least. Then I'll be A'lam." He puffed out his chest proudly, patting his shoulder where the knots of his rank would go. "I'm gonna Impress a bronze!" He added impetuously. "How about you?"

Sentinol sat down heavily, grimacing as his bed creaked under him. "How do you know what you'll Impress?" He asked curiously, cocking his head. Alsalam scoffed and leaped to his feet, bouncing a few times on his own bed. "It's all about confidence, of course! Plus, my parents were both dragonriders, so it's in my blood." Sentinol frowned, pondering for a while. "I've never really thought much about it, I suppose. Even being Searched was a surprise. My Searchrider rode a brown though. I suppose I like those. But as long as the dragon can carry me, I'll be content." He finished. Al nodded knowingly. "My father rode a brown. They're dependable, but not as flashy as bronzes, of course. Plus, browns hardly ever fly queens! My bronze and I will be Weyrleaders one day!" He grinned self-importantly.

Sentinol raised an eyebrow, surveying the boy in front of him. It was hard to picture the short, freckled youth in front of him as a future Weyrleader. "Whatever you say." He said finally, shrugging noncommittally. Alsalam jumped back down to the floor, stretching his wiry frame. "So you were just Searched, huh? Where ya from?" "Tregad. My father was a farmer- he mostly bred runner beasts and I herded the other animals." He added, forestalling Al's next question. "Booooriiiing!" Was the reply as Al moved to rifle through Sentinol's footlocker. "Hey! What are you doing?! Cut that out!" Sentinol leaped to his feet and shoved the boy away, accidentally sending him sprawling on his back a few feet. He froze, staring at the supine figure before him in dread. My first day here and I kill somebody?? Images of the Weyrleaders barging in and forcibly throwing him out flashed through his horror-struck mind. Al remained motionless on the floor before kicking himself off the ground, flicking his body into an upright position again. "Wow, good hit!" He exclaimed, brushing himself off absently.

Sentinol exhaled in relief. "Are you ok? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shoved you." He apologized contritely. Al frowned in puzzlement. "What are you talking about? I was messing with you! I would have done the same thing, and I'dve jumped him, besides! After all, it was aallll a test." He smiled in satisfaction. Sentinol shook his head, utterly confused. "A test?" Al laughed again. "All muscle and no brains?" He nodded at the barrel-chested boy in front of him. "Don't worry about it, let's just say you passed. See ya in the mess hall later!" And with that, he spun about and was gone from the room in a blink of an eye. Sentinol snorted and squatted in front of his footlocker, tidying things up again. Were all weyrfolk that odd? What had he gotten himself into?

After dinner in the Lower Caverns, Sentinol entered the Barracks in a considerably better mood. He had made friends with a few other boys at the table. They were somewhat deferential at first, as was common when first meeting the burly youth, but upon discovering Sentinol was quiet-spoken and about as vicious as a teddy bear, the boys had quickly warmed to him and friendships were struck up. They had been assigned glowbasket duty, but he had yet to receive any orders so he instead decided to return to his bed and await their arrival.

Minutes later the door creaked open. Sitting up eagerly, Sentinol's face fell somewhat as Alsalam sauntered in, picking his teeth with a long splinter of wood. "Heya pal!" The redhead greeted him jovially as he flopped onto the bed next to Sentinol. "Hi." He replied warily, watching the boy closely. "Boy, that was a good dinner, huh?" Al continued breezily. "I saw you eating with the other guys, but I run with a different crowd around here. They're more exciting." Sentinol raised an eyebrow, but remained quiet. Somehow he got the feeling that Al's idea of exciting and his were two completely different things. "You should join us sometime!" Al exclaimed. "I bet you'd win every time!"

Sentinol frowned, reluctant to rise to the bait, but curious nontheless. "Win what?" Al laughed with glee and flipped onto his back, kicking his feet up into the air. "The scraps, of course! A bunch of us all get together and place bets on who will win. Nothing big of course, but I won an entire mark last week alone!" Alsalam patted his pocket protectively, suddenly looking at Sentinol as if he suspected he would rob him. The older boy leaned back away from the redhead, regarding him with a gaze equally as intent. "Scraps? You mean fighting? Why on pern would anyone do that?" Al rolled his eyes. "You sure are dense sometimes. We don't really fight. It get rough sometimes, but nothing more than a bloody nose and some bruises usually. I don't always win myself, but I can pick a winner from a mile away and -you- would crush them easily! What do ya say? Huh?"

Sentinol snorted. "I'll pass, thanks. Sounds like kid stuff." Al recoiled in indignation, his blue eyes flashing. "Well fine, then. Go on and be boring with your boring friends." He rolled onto his other side, presenting his back to Sentinol, who blinked in confusion. He had never met anyone with such a quicksilver personality before. Maybe the boy would calm down once he got older. Doubtful. He told himself wryly.

The door to the barracks opened, almost crashing back against the wall. In walked a young man with breeches stained with mud and blond hair wind tousled from the dragonride he had just disembarked from. Over his shoulder he carried a plain bag filled with the belongings he thought worthy of being taken. Fancier clothes for a Gather, a sharpening stone, a shell someone brought him from the ocean. He walked a few feet inside the room and took a wide footed stance, eying the room and all in it, including the few other candidates. He gave a grunt and you could tell from his eyes that he was not impressed with what he saw.

He walked over to a bed by the wall, nodding at the two candidates he passed. With a heave, he swung the bag over his shoulder to thump down on his claimed bed near the headboard. With a jump, he also landed atop the bed and promptly positioned the lumpy bag of belongings under his head for a pillow. Both arms also joined the bag as use of a pillow, inadvertently showing off his biceps.

As the door burst open, Sentinol glanced over only to have his hopes of a friend entering dashed once more. As the boy entered the room, he paused and surveyed his surroundings for all the world like a Holder inspecting his land. Sentinol felt like a runnerbeast on the auction block that sold for barely more than what it had cost to raise it. Frowning slightly, he sighed. Were all the other Candidate boys such jerks? Deciding it would be wisest to hold his tongue, he nodded curtly back at the other boy before returning to his thoughts.

Alsalam on the other hand sat up with interest, watching the new boy avidly. Now THERE was a guy with a backbone! "Just got here, huh?" He asked, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. "I'm Alsalam, and that's Sentinol." He nodded to the burly Candidate next to him. "What's your name?" He inquired.

Jervall opened his eyes to see who was talking to him. His eyebrows raised ever so slightly in surprise that this small little redheaded kid was talking to him. If he'd had to guess earlier, he would have bet that the larger candidate would have talked first. He quickly looked between the two while answering. "Nice to meet you both. Name's Jervall."

On second thought, he thought to himself as he looked between the two males. The smaller one carried himself better than the larger one, Sentinol. Maybe it wasn't too much of a surprise that Alsalam had spoken up first. Or then again, maybe the kid just had too much energy and this was how he used it. Jervall was willing to bet, after a bit more observation, that he got into people's hair.

(( I wanted to call Alsalam a ginger :D ))

((Ha! So did I when I was writing up his description!))

Sentinol raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear such courtesy from the boy. Maybe he had misjudged him. Sitting up, he glanced back to Al to see the younger boy's reaction. "Where are you from?" Al asked. "I'm from Ista Weyr, but raised in Izvand. Sentinol is from Tregad." He wrinkled his nose slightly in distaste, causing Sentinol to frown at him. "There's nothing wrong with that!" The older boy exclaimed. "'Course not. If you like smelling like manure all the time." Alsalam replied airily. Sentinol growled quietly, flopping back on his bed.