Night Time Thoughts (Any)

[harbinger]

Flayn lay on his bed that night, consumed from head to toe with the thoughts of the day. He had gotten to touch green Whisk's eggs and that filled him with a bubbly, fuzzy pleasure that had a grin plastered to his face. He couldn't get his mind off the large egg, the milky brown with the flecks of gray. That egg had become the focus point on his attention and he remembered the warm feel of it under his hand. It had felt more alive and stronger than the other too, though all were fine eggs to be sure. Placing his hands under his head, he sighed happily. Maybe Fort Hold hadn't had any prospects for him but maybe, just maybe, Dalibor Weyr did.

'I hope I Impress a wher. Oh I hope so.' he thought to himself.