Yearning For Something More

[Mirror]

It really wasn't his day. First, there had been the chores that that sharding headwoman had made him do. It wasn't as if he minded work, it was just the mindless drudgery that really burst his bubble. He was here to impress, that was all, and not to do the Weyr's manual labor. He could be back at the smithhall for Faranth's sake! Scowling, Zatalor crossed his arms harshly against his chest, walking off his frustration. Raj had disappeared when the mention of chores had come along, leaving him to his own stewing anger. His brain was whirling as his feet lead him through the bowl, his large, bulky frame scaring the younger candidates into jumping out of his way. This Weyr was too crowded, with the people always coming and going. Maybe he would transfer after he impressed, to some remote location to spy on another Weyr. It could happen, although it was highly unlikely. Sighing, Zatalor gave up on his anger, as it wouldn't help him any. But a nagging urge still drew his body toward the entrance to the Weyr, the slim little trail that was fiercely guarded by the Whers at night and the dragons during he day. It was about mid-day and a burly copper dragon was peering down at him, daring him to run from the Weyr. The rider was dozing nearby, and Zatalor glared at the dragon before continuing on his way.

He followed the spindly trail to a small outcropping of rocks not far from the entrance, and with a sly grin, began to climb it. He had always been athletic, but due to his smithing his muscles in his legs were less developed than his arms. This was not a hindrance for this small climb, however, and he reached the minuscule summit within minutes. Raj, sensing the candidate's now calm attitude, popped from between above him, chattering away about this bronze and that silver. Rolling his dark brown eyes, he grinned. The noise never ended, did it? Taking a strip of meat from his black tunic, he tossed it to her,and the flit deftly caught it in her talons before landing on the rock beside him. Her bright gold hide was in stark contrast with the gray rock, which by the way, was still quite cool from the spring showers. He loved it though, the fluctuating weather and snowy winters. It was how he had been raised, and he couldn't imagine anything different, like the scorching heat of Igen or Southern.

Stretching out on his back, he crossed his booted feet at his ankles and closed his eyes. This was his time now, to think about the pretty women of the Weyr and dream about home. Raj, sensing that her master didn't want to hear about her flirtations of the past hour, settled in beside him, tucking her snout under her tail and folding her wings along her back. They didn't need to speak, they just need to enjoy the great mountainous beauty of the northern range, with it's rugged appeal and frosty nights. Sighing, Zatalor's thoughts once more began to wander, thinking about the wild dragon sightings he had heard about. He had even overheard the Senior Weyrwoman talking to the sentries about them, and how they had to be careful. How dangerous could a wild one be? The 'tame' ones were rode everyday, and the wild ones had been tame a few hundred turns back. Did they become feral that quickly? Running a hand through his cropped hair, Zatalor laced his fingers together, settlings them behind his head in anticipation of a light nap before returning to the Weyr.


OOC: Here we go, now we can get the expedition arrangements underway. Now I must go post for The Gold Weyrling to speak with Kaja...

[Caderell]

Normally, this would have been a fabulous time for settling in. However, she was not in the mood to go hang out in some barracks, not when there was cool, fresh air out here. And, even more interested, what appeared to be man lounging on a rock. Still holding onto the reins of the young stallion, Dresilda padded over. Her legs were tired, her butt was sore, she was pretty sure that half of what she saw was just grit in her eyes, and things couldn't have been better. Well, they could've been, but not realistically. She was finally going to get to live with her brother again! However, the drawbacks were started to make themselves clear.
Satch stretched his neck out to whuffle Zatalor's hand, lips curling up as he prepared to take a bite. She yanked his head back down, causing him to snort, prance, put his ears back, then drop it and pretend to be innocent.
"This is gonna be fun," she muttered, appearing to be ignoring the Smith at this point. Spur of the moment, subject-jumper that she was, she abrubtly turned to Zatalor and asked, "Were you dragged her too, then? Kicking and screaming?" Not the most unusual question, though put that way it might have been considered a little more than "unusual."

{{ ... 0.o;; Stupid short post... Sorry, I'm kinda... Really sleepy.... Almost 29 straight hours of wakefulness.... >.< }}

[Mirror]

Zatalor heard the approaching sounds of a person and a beast of some sort. Hoping they'd ignore him, he didn't move until he felt hot breath on his hand, and retracted it quickly. Raj, being her nonchalant self, hopped over to the edge of the rock, peering down at the absurdly large runner. Chirping once at both the human girl nd the stallion, the little gold once again took to sun bathing, having decided that neither were a danger to Zatalor. The man on the other hand, rolled onto his stomach, looking down onto the girl. His big brown eyes did a once over of her, and the beast that had tried to eat his hand. He had never been one for runners, even the ones that helped the smiths. Raising an eye brow, Zatalor rested his head on his hand, listening to her perfectly random question.

"No, I wasn't. But I didn't expect to be enslaved to do the Weyr's drudgery. The riders at the Hall seemed... more independent. Living here and hoping to impress is just a reason for them to make our lives one big chore." He made a quick decision, and swung his legs over the edge. With a sigh, he carefully jumped down, and same to a standing position by the girl. He hadn't seen her around much, but maybe he hadn't been looking. He usually noticed those of the feminine sort. Throwing her a charming smile, he spoke once more. "So were you 'dragged' here as well?"

While he waited for her to speak, Zatalor looked once more at the runner. He looked jangle, like he was still young. He wasn't a beastcrafter by any stretch of the imagination, but he would expect that the animal would be good for mountain trips. A gleam came to his eyes, and he ran a hand through his klah colored hair. It just might work... It was his turn to ask a random question, however, which he proceeded to do. "Would he be able to handle the mountains?" It seemed innocent enough, but anyone who knew Zatalor could see the way his demeanor changed from being nonchalant to determined. He was up to no good. Glancing in the general directions of the wilds, he sent an image to Raj. It was one from a banner back in the Weyr, of a woman that looked like a ghost and supposedly rode an Emerald. It was all legend, of course, but Zatalor had a sinking feeling that she was much more than some story to keep children out of the woods.

[Caderell]

Satchel snorted at the funny little beast. He'd seen them around--who hadn't?--but usually they ran from him. Ignoring the man now, he shuffled around the rock a bit to scrutinize the comparitively itty-bitty beastie.

"No, I was brought here by my brother. Sort of. Actually, I had to ride Satchel here, but, no. No kicking and screaming, just lots of murderous thoughts," she answered with a smile that said, 'got a problem with that?' in an 'innocent' way. She examined him in a glance, deciding she liked his looks. No thingyy air, none of those know-it-all little smirks that bugged her to no end, and just scruffy enough--though her definition of "scruffy" was probably different from most people's.

She watched him examining her boy curiously, glad that Satch was distracted enough by Raj to not bit Zatalor for staring. Her brows lifted at his unusual question. Is that why he was eyeing him up? Huh. He's got an ulterior motive... She smirked. No worries there. I'd like to see him try to take my Satch!

"He could take mountains. Built for all weather, good amount of weight--good amount of work. I figure one of his great granddams, or -sires, was smithy bred. What do ya have in mind? I'd not advise trying to take him; he'd probably kill you," she said bluntly and, as if on cue, Satch stomped on foot and snorted, prancing for a moment before settling down with his head on Dresilda's shoulder, chewing boredly. He'd lost interest in Raj and decided to nap. His eyes glazed over and closed halfway. Soon enough, he started snoring.

[Mirror]

Zatalor was slightly taken aback. She had rode? All that way? The way the runner acted told him that he would do anything for the girl, like some sort of big guard canine or wher. Although not as ugly. With an impulsive thought, he stretched his hand out, an invitation to shake hands. "Nah, I don't think I do. I'm Zatalor, Journeyman Smith and resident candidate." It was brief, simple, but yet, it was him. He wasn't one to dance around the subject, and it seemed as if this girl didn't either. Unlike most of the women around here. Only the Emerald riders were extremely promiscuous, and even they wouldn't go for a candidate like him. It figures. Raj, who had noticed the big fuzzy thing following her, chirped at him her expression inquisitive. Se had seen some traders bring them around, but she had been flirting with a bronze flit, and the thought of examining them had left her mind. She flicked her tail in annoyance as the beast left to join his master, and she too follow suit, alighting on Zatalor's broad shoulder.

Zatalor laughed at her outspoken comment. He had no attention of stealing just the runner. Oh no. He was onto something that his mind wasn't going to let go. "I wasn't going to steal just him. I don't do well with hairy beasts. They aren't my cup of klah. What I have in mind lays up there-" With that he pointed to the Wilds, where the mountains were unexplored and many were killed trying to discover their secrets. "And you're going to come with me." It was a fairly forceful comment, but Zatalor knew that he couldn't make her come. But he could convince her. He was particularly good at things like that. It was about time for that certain fair of flits to disappear, from the stories he had heard from the older riders. Every summer and winter a whole fair of flits would move off toward the mountains, led by a gold queen no one knew who belonged to. And if they could follow them, they could find something extraordinary.

[Caderell]

She saw his surprise and felt a bit of pride surge through her. I bet he was thinking I'm just some pretty little thing, huh? Tut tut, stupid man. Honestly, I'm not just a pretty face with legs! She took the offered hand in a firm shake. "Journeyman Harper Dresilda, apparently your fellow candidate."

She grinned at his laugh, glad she hadn't offended him. If she had, she'd have misjudged him and, really, she hated to be wrong. She watched him with lifted brows as he told her of his goal that involved Satch--otherwise, she may very well have simply tuned him out, no matter how interesting a character he was. "Oh I am, am I? Tell me, Zatalor, Journeyman Smith and resident candidate, why would me and my 'hairy beast' want to come with you to the wilds that so many none-too-friendly legends focus their hate on?"

Satch opened one eye lazily after his mistress finished talking in ordered to look at the flit, tilting his head to one side in order to do so. He yawned and resumed snoring.

[Mirror]

So she had heard the legends... The stories of the death and destruction wrought upon those who ventured there. Of course there was always the risk, but did they really want to stay here and wait, or did they want to choose their own path? And that path led to the caves of the upper Wilds to the prospective hatchlings that lay there. Now he wasn't sure if there would be one there when they arrived, but if they could at least appease the Queen and ner mate, then they could have a chance. Or die, perhaps, but the risk was worth it. Her question was more like a dare to make her come, to prove that this wasn't some fool hardy mission to kill themselves. "Why would I want you to come? Dresilda, my dear aquaintance, do you want to stay here all your life? Don't you think there could be something more out there? Don't you feel a nagging to get out of this Weyr...?" His speech halted, and he drug his calloused hand through his hair. This was going to be hard to explain.

What fool other than he would dare to leave the safety of the Weyr? How did he know she would even want to leave her brother? Family ties, something he'd never had, always seemed to be stronger than any desire to get away from it all. A slight frown came over his face, and Raj cooed at him. Rubbing her small wedge-shaped head under his chin, she sent him a motehrly and reassuring array of colors, and a small smile formed. She was the closed thing to a mother he had, even though she was a great deal younger than he. Running a finger along her golden neck, he returned to his duty of explaining to Dresilda why it would be worth her while. "You have obviously heard the legends of the Woman of the Woods. I have a hunch that she is not just a myth, but the key to getting close to the wild dragons. I want to know how they live, relate, survive. Doesn't it make your curious how the Weyr-born dragons rely so much on people, when the wild ones live for themselves. But most of all, I want to stand at one of the hatchings. And I want you to come. But first we must recruit a few others."

It all seemed rather jumbled wen he said it, and he hoped his spurt of speech would be understandable. Raj cooed, deciding that Satchel wasn't of any interest anymore, and lept from Zatalor's shoulder, winging up into the sky. She began an intricate dance, twisting and loop-de-loopying. She flew until she was a bright glitter int he open sky, the cool spring air bearing her higher and higher until she folded her wings and fell back towards Pern. She continued her display as her master continued his waiting.

[Caderell]

Her eyelids lowered and she slouched against Satch a bit, a smirk playing across her features as she lifted a hand to stroke her lips. She watched him in interest as he spoke, ignoring the green with ease as she and Satchel leaned almost comically against each other. 'Dear acquaintance' made her laugh, though she held it inside. The rest of what he had to say was simply fascinating. He seemed frustrated at having to explain himself.

'It probably makes all the sense in the world to him,' she thought. 'But it's hard to explain.' After this crossed her mind, she started to smile and, but the time he'd finished talking, she had a smirk-like grin lighting up her features.

"Do you know what got me interested in dragons in the first place? When I was little, I saw one, a Ruby. She was feeding near my home, luckily she didn't take to trying to hunt our beasts or else we'd have had to move or find some way to chase her out. But I heard her talking, and it was like... the most beautiful thing. With that little one there--" she flittered her fingers at Raj-- "you probably take it for granted, feeling that in your head, like you've got two o'you." She nodded faintly. "Yes, Smith Zatalor, I will come with you." She held out her hand in a let's shake on it way.

Perhaps her own little speech would sound like nothing more than nonesense to him, but that hardly mattered to her. All he needed to know was that she was coming, right? That's the way she saw it. 'Why' really had no part in life, not when it got right down to it. The why was just an effect of someones personality and experiences; each why was, thusly, a personal thing and was someone's right to give out, not their responsibility or duty.

[Mirror]

In all seriousness, Zatalor didn't understand half of what she had said. He wasn't one for deep feelings or sincere emotions. However, some part of him, a piece of him left over from childhood when he didn't have Raj, remembered a time when he had imaginary friends to talk to instead. It was odd, taking that walk down memory lane, and he still didn't understand it. It just wasn't in his comprehension. None the less, a lopsided grin took over his strong jaw when he heard that she would come. Perfect! Now he wouldn't have to go it alone. There were already a few others he had in mind, including f*gil (one of my characters... in the making) and some more restless candidates from around the Weyr. Now all they would have to do is get status reports from Raj on the Windhaze fair and they would be set to make their way out of the Weyr.

However, there were plans to be made and supplies to be gathered. He had his own experiences in the Wild, as he suspected Dresilda did, but there were others that didn't, like f*gil. Whats more, the huntable beasts wouldn't be fully fat for another three sevendays, and even then they would have young to protect and that would make them all the more dangerous. The headwoman would have to be duped, food stuffs stolen and horded, while the Weyrwoman and her comrades would have to be kept blissfully ignorant. It was a task, to be sure, but he planned to leave at the beginning of Aziath's hatching, when the Weyr would be in chaos, and they could leave quickly and quietly.

"Perfect! I'm glad you could see the reasoning behind it. We will need to begin planning and packing immediately. We will have to take enough food to get us by, as well as some others, and that's where I believe your runner comes in. What did you say his name was?" The excitement was obvious in his eyes, as he would finally be able to get out and away. The Weyr would never knew what hit them, to find out that their own candidates had ditched them for the Wild ones... It would be priceless.

[Caderell]

She watched him grin happily. He was like a kid, delighted by seemingly small things. She had a feeling it wasn't actually going to be as easy as he was making it sound. Let's see, we'll need to highjack some food--I don't think the weyr particularly wants us to just up and leave--and we'll need a pack beast. Maybe I can get Da to send a herd up here, and have Ma sneak a few good mountainers in there... she thought.

"When will we be going about?" she asked, adding, "And it's Satchel. Satch."

Hearing his name, the beast blinked lazily at her, then shook out his mane.

"I think I can get us a few more big Runners. None of them as big as Satch, but big enough for a trip into the mountains. Or some light-foots--dainty beasts, but good for picking their way around. You'd need the patience of a plant and be able to hold on well, they're spur-of-the-moment jumpers but they're good for escapades. It'd take about... A sevenday to get them up here though, since Da'd bring up a full herd. I'd have to get Ma to sneak the good ones in; he'd give the weyr some beasts that look good but aren't, since he knows they don't ride much. But Ma can talk him into anything. We'd need a good packhorse--we could use Satch for that, and maybe a Herdbeast." She'd gone into 'way-too-much-information' mode.

[Mirror]

Zatalor, who had been planning this for some time now, grinned. They would leave at the beginning of Azaith's clutch, which was due within the next two sevendays. In the frenzy, all the guard dragons would be at the hatching, and hopefully all the whers would be hidden underground and away from the light. That would give their convoy a wonderful time frame to get clear of the Weyr and into the mountains. There is would be very difficult to track them, because of the deep valleys and thick forests. He suspected the wild queen would be close by, and not too far into the hidden expanses of the most northern part of the mountain range. However, getting close to the clutch (if it was even there at all) would be the most dangerous part. The wild dragons would no doubt try to lash out at them, but he had a faint feeling that the Wild Queen, of which he wasn't sure of the color, was bonded herself. And that was where the woman of the woods came in. Arranging all the information in his head, he began to speak.

"I believe we will be leaving within the next two sevendays, because I want us to leave at the beginning of Aziath's clutch. That way the sentries will be out of the way. And the whers will be no big deal because the gold's clutches always seem to clutch during the day. Hopefully this one will be no different." He paused, thinking about what she had said. The runners would make everything go a whole lot faster. Besides, f*gil was set on coming with them, ever since the kid had figured out Zatalor's plan. The 14 turn old candidate had been a harper, always thinking things out and being too smart for his own good. He had started to follow Zatalor around at the beginning of the planing, and had eventually guessed what he was up to. So that was how f*gil, not very strong physically, but an intellectual genius, was coming with them.

"I think that the runners would be an excellent idea. I don't believe Aziath will clutch for at least another sevenday, judging by her clutch. Although her agitation at that Ruby Jasiath might convey to the hatchlings and move things along. Hopefully the gold can keep herself in check long enough for us to get prepared and away." Raising an eyebrow, Zatalor's grin widened. She seemed to be just as enthusiastic about getting away as he was. Dresilda had been a prefect choice to join the expedition, and he mentally complimented himself on his choice.

[Caderell]

"Great, I'll grab an old firelizard--I'd use your girl but Ma'd never be able to coax her over before Da and Ma's got to get the message, see?--and then I'll send a note to them. Ma'll sneak us a good... Five 'beasts? We could probably get more in, but Da might suspect...?" She looked at him with lifted brows, wondering if he'd want more Runnerbeasts.

She herself had been thinking of the ghost in the forest at that moment, the one people feared--said she told the dragons to kill the humans that wandered into the forest, or some nonsense like that--but she'd been wondering how people could be so stupid. No woman in her right mind--not that she thought a ghost would be in her right mind, but she doubted it was actually a ghost--would give that command. Why, if she wanted to kill people and she had dragons at her disposal, why would she limit herself to only trespassers? Or, if she simply didn't like people in her woods, why wouldn't she send someone back saying that no one was to enter the woods? Honestly, any half-wit woman would have thought of it! Now men on the other hand? Maybe not.

"You've heard of her then, right? That ghost, the lady of the forest?" she asked a bit abrubtly, frowning at him faintly, quizzically.

Suddenly, Satch's head jerked up and he thumped it soundly against her chest with a snort. Looking around in confusion, he swiveled one ear towards her as she shushed him, and one ear forward attentively. Apparently, he wasn't standing in his stables, or by a tree, or even by a rock! Either way, the bug that had been attacking his cheek was gone--smashed against his mistress's chest or scared off, either was good in his opinion.

{{ I've had horses do this to me so many times I feel the need to put it in here. lol Not as good as a jumping horse I was riding attempting a roll in the mud with me on his back, but still pretty funny. }}