Is 'Tangled' a Valid Feeling? (Rhi!)

[Rii]

{desc=Sora/Jyderin, reprise}The Hatching was nearly a sevenday in the past, and Sora still hadn’t even started to sort out how she felt about the whole thing. All of the feelings and thoughts that she’d bottled up while on the Sands amidst the chaos were still firmly bottled up because every time she even started to pull the cork out, Orkia’s face surged up to grin at her, that supremely confident, persistent smile that had driven her mad with irritation, and below that the horrible red wreckage of her throat. Everything else was stuck behind the dead girl’s face and it was such a hopeless tangle of things that she hadn’t dealt with that she really didn’t know what else to do but continue to not deal with it.

And of course, candidate life hadn’t exactly stopped to wait for them. There were still lessons to do, and chores for the able-bodied - extra chores, it seemed, not because of any punishment but because there were a good number of candidates and no-longer-candidates who weren’t fit for anything but rest, or the lightest of duties. Sora had found herself excused from a number of chores that needed two strong hands, but she could still run messages, stuff firestone sacks (it took a little bit of invention, but it was doable), sweep, mop, and do a… handful of kitchen tasks, among other things.

So she was still useful, and busy. Her bitten left hand didn’t prevent that. What it did bar her from was climbing without the use of a ladder or stairs. Which in her book, meant not climbing at all. It kept her away from her favored perches, her escapes from the people of Dalibor. The places that she preferred to go to be alone and find the peace to think. Unable to climb above the snarled knot of thoughts she fostered, Sora had taken to doing a lot more walking and running in her free time. Running around the Bowl, or rambling through the halls of the lower caverns like she was tonight.

It wasn’t as good for keeping her out of the way, but it helped the restless feeling, at least. And it worked much better for tiring her out so that she could sleep through the night. Sometimes it even made her roommate’s chatter slightly more tolerable because she was too worn out to care. As long as Addy didn’t cling to her again… because that was going a little too far for someone that she wasn’t really comfortable with. Not that there were many that Sora was that comfortable with, certainly not here, and the couple that had fallen into the category of ‘maybe someday might be that close’ she hadn’t seen since the hatching, or before. Which she supposed was alright. Lilianai had Impressed and was probably quite busy adapting to being a weyrling, and Sora hadn’t been much in the mood to seek anyone out anyway.

Which… Sora hesitated in her lower caverns wandering to look around, and gave a small, rueful smirk. Great, now my feet are making decisions without me. She was outside of the weyrtanner’s workshop again. A weird feeling of deja vu struck her as she stood there, trying to decide if she wanted to look in. Of course, her visits here had started this way. And if she’d found one thing out from return visits, it was that Jyderin was… well, fairly safe, by her books, because he knew when to stop pushing.

She could use a bit of safe, right about now. Turning the corner of the door, she looked in to see if Jyderin happened to be working this evening. With my luck, it'll be the one night he isn't.

[RhiaBlack]

It was Summertime, and even in the Lower Caverns, it was warm. He hadn't been expecting company, so outside the Tanner's apron, his pants, his boots, and his belt, Jyderin didn't have anything else on.

He was absolutely slaving away, even given the candlemark. A fresh batch of so many Hatchlings meant that there were mouths to feed, which meant that there were literally tons of hides to tan. Coupled with the oncoming Feast, it also meant that there were hides from that, too. Not to mention the orders for new saddles and gear, as well as repairs to the armor than had been torn in the last Hatching. On top of all the other necessary things a Weyr required of a Master Tanner in order to continue running.

Sora's nose would catch it first - the coppery scent of blood, though light in comparison to that on the sands in the sevenday prior. All the hides had been washed on the undersides, which removed most of the blood from them, but there were still chunks of meat that had yet to be culled from beneath them, which leaked their vitae to the floor beneath the racks. It slithered like riversnakes towards the drain at the end of one wall, and Jyderin had erected a small channel of cloth to furlough the blood in that direction; keeping the rest of the floor clean, and safe from slippage.

But his wasn't the only voice in the room.

So much work had garnered the Master Tanner to enlist help, and in that rights, a mirror of his own voice echoed within the hide-stuffed cavern. Slightly deeper, and slightly louder than Jyderin's own tone, but clearly of some relation. Heavy breaths, broken by conversation. They were talking about Firelizards, and then there was mention of a King. Laughter from Jyderin, before the heavy slap of a wet brush against a freshly cleaned, stretched, and soaked hide.

The conversation was sparse, even when it did sound - the rest of the time was caught up with humming from the Master Tanner, broken by occasional words from whomever was in the room with him.

Once she approached the door, Z'dyn's frame was the first she would see - as Jyderin was further behind the door at his ledge, working tannin into not one, but two different hides.

The Ironrider was without his shirt, and subsequently without his knots as a result - though they lingered stacked and folded to one side, along with his vest and gloves. Kee sat perched atop them, watching in boredom as she toyed with the wooden Mark that Hers tended to keep. The Pink looked half-asleep, her little tail curled around herself as she set her paws to the edge of the wooden coin, and rocked herself to and fro, lax blue eyes focused on Hers and Hers' hatchfather.

Z'dyn's scars were on full display, as he sat bent over the prop-log. In-hand was Jyderin's straight blade, and the Ironrider had volunteered to help his father scrape hides, and at least attempt to catch up on his work. His half-missing ear was towards the lurking Candidate, and Kee chirped a greeting from where she lingered. The sound drew Z'dyn to pause, though only briefly. Long enough to see who it was, and go back to working as he turned his head to call over his shoulder.

"Dad. Got a vis'tor."
"Come in, come in! The more the merrier!"

[Rii]

Blood. The smell of it haunted her some nights, until she wasn’t sure if she was smelling it or imagining it. Although she was not in the least squeamish, there were suddenly a passel of memories that hadn’t been present a sevenday ago. Sands soaked red, white robes torn and stained with it. The little whimper Addy had given when her hand was broken beneath a dragonet’s careless foot. The way the young candidate at the front had screamed and begged her brother to help her after a wheret had torn her open from hip to hip. The tears that had streamed down Candidatemaster Yuri’s face as he gathered up Orkia’s body, Orkia. Somehow it always came back to the reluctantly tolerated candidate’s grinning face, and what had become of her.

Sora shook her head a little, hoping to rid herself of the creeping tendrils of that tangle of stuff she’d walled up and tried to ignore from the hatching. Distracted by those thoughts, it didn’t quite click that there was more sound from within the room than one person would make. That Jyderin certainly wouldn’t have been holding a two-voiced conversation with himself, or laugh without someone or something to make him laugh. If she’d realized it before she had turned the corner into the room, she never would have entered in the first place.

As it was, there was definitely an impulse to nope herself off to somewhere else, rude or not. I didn’t realize you had company, excuse me, I’ll just go, it was on the tip of her tongue and oh Faranth it was Jyderin’s ironrider son. Sora didn’t need to see his rider’s knots to remember, not after Z’dyn had been so kind as to take her as one of his passengers to the last Gather at Western, although she doubted that he remembered her. His features were striking - those light blue eyes - and the hair was unforgettable. Accidental rudeness to a rider had nearly netted her extra chores once before, she was certain although she’d never caught even a flicker of ‘you’re in trouble’ from the candidatemasters. She really didn’t want to be kicked out for it now.

Even if the hatching had left her with some misgivings about the whole thing.

So she stayed put, although her expression reflected the guarded neutrality that Jyderin, at least, had won past. “Good evening, Master Jyderin,” she greeted, her gaze shifting from shirtless the elder to shirtless the younger. His scars drew no more than a blink from her, whatever she thought of it (they were scars, not like they were poisonous or would bite) hidden behind that poker face she wore. “Good evening, Z’dyn, sir. Is Baihujinth well?”

[RhiaBlack]

"Sora!" Jyderin always had a way about realizations that made it sound a surprise. "Come in, come in! Good gracious, had I known you were coming I would have attempted to look presentable, Z'dyn put your blasted--"
"It's shellin' hot, Dad. Not a chance."

Z'dyn nodded to her in greeting, though he didn't need to recall who it was. He remembered everyone who was put on his Iron's back - if he forgot, Baihujinth would certainly remember. The Iron wasn't keen on letting just anyone up there. After all, Z'dyn was the only one who -belonged- up..you stop that, Ironass.

"S'good. Just ate, sleepin' off 'is fishin', while I'm down here workin' with Dad. Trust y'met m'pops already, he don't address nobody like that less he knows 'em. C'mon in, sit down. Got some Klah over there close t'Kee, prolly cold b'now, but better'n nothin'. Hot's it is in here."

"I'm very sorry that you had to go through all that, Sora," Jyderin uttered quietly. "It's hard, to watch someone die like that. Watch so many others get hurt. Are you all right?"

Z'dyn finished the hide he was working on, dismounting from his seat and hanging the blade to the side as he carted the freshly-cleaned skin over to his father. It was put on another rack, waiting for Jyderin to sort it, before Zeke piled another less-clean one across the log. The scraps were thrown out, and Kee chirruped at Hers indignantly. Well then, little miss.

The Ironrider looked shocked, brows raising, though he said nothing. Kee set her Mark aside neatly with Hers' knots, and coiled her tail around her feet. Jyderin paused to watch, and Z'dyn held up a piece of meat from the hide he'd just cleaned.

"Oh?"
MIIIINE. Stop making me assssk. Why do you--
"Please."
It was Kee's turn to scowl and look indignant.
"Y'know the rules. Ask nice, an' y'get it. Be a pain'n th'neck, I'll toss't out fer the other better behaved ones."

She whimpered pitifully, and Z'dyn hooked his arms over one another, meat in two fingers. He took a step forwards, and Kee perched herself on the edge. She crooned, and then dissolved into a dragonsong, crooning and kreeling and chirping.

Z'dyn took a step closer, and got nose to nose with his Pink. Kee stared at him with whirling green and blue eyes, and despite the fact Jyderin was laughing, neither Kee nor Hers cracked a grin. Z'dyn leveled his stare at her, and Kee narrowed her little eyes.

Z'dyn smirked.
Kee licked his nose, snatched the meat, and blinked out of existence before Z'dyn scowled. His father was in stitches.

"She always gets the better of you, doesn't she."
"She didn't get th'shardin' better'a nobody, little cheater..."

Jyderin's smile was radiant, and he shook his head. He slapped the brush down on another hide, and slathered the gray sludge across the pale surface of the hide he was working. The sponge was then produced, to work the tannin in.

"Have you heard anything about the Feast yet, Sora? The last I heard, my son tells me they're supposed to have one after every Hatching, but nobody's said anything yet."

[Rii]

Sora flapped a hand at the concern of presentability. It was his workshop, it was warm, and generally the best way to cool off while working was the removal of clothing. Bare chests were pretty common where they were from. “It’s not a big deal. You’re working, and it’s not like I announced ahead of time that I was going to show up.” She never did, because she never really knew when the mood to socialize was going to take her. It wasn’t exactly a common thing for her.

Moving over to the stool and claiming it as a perch, the Southern-bred girl propped her chin on her good hand, watching the pair at their tasks. “Not a single person who went out there looking for a dragon or a wher walked off without at least some scratches and bruises to remember it by. I got off easy. Wheret knocked me down, tried to rake my back open, but he couldn’t get through your armor. Which… I’m glad for it in hindsight, so… thanks.” A ghost of a smile flickered across her solemn face before vanishing. “Then the last one bit my hand.” She wriggled the fingers of the bandaged appendage, her left. “My roommate got her hand broken, dragonet stepped on it. One good pair of hands between us, makes it interesting.”

She was chattering. Well, chattering for her standards of brevity. She was throwing the not-so-important words out there because she had to put something between her and the mention of Orkia’s death. “Pretty grim introduction to Hatchings, I guess. The horror stories didn’t even really measure up to it. Wasn’t even a red that hatched, when O-” Her voice cut off abruptly, her lips still shaping the ‘o’ before pressing tightly together.

"Killing is rare on the sands. Usually it's an accident, though you should always keep an eye on reds.”

Orkia had been the one to reassure her of that, that hatchlings weren’t out to injure, to deliberately maim or kill. And now Orkia was dead, and there were so many injured that they couldn’t keep them all in the infirmary. It was a bitter irony that even she didn’t want to face. “Well, I think people were expecting a red. The new color’s pretty close, I guess, but the Impressions went off alright.”

Sora watched Z’dyn handle his pink with a flicker of amusement. “Seems she’s trained you, ‘stead of the other way around, sir.” The caution gleamed in her eyes again. “No offense.”

A feast. Like there was anything to celebrate. She swallowed a bitter laugh and shook her head. “Not that I’ve heard, but I haven’t been sitting about listening so much in the kitchens. Can’t wash dishes or handle food without messing up this stupid bandage.” She sighed. The discomfort and pain from the injury were nothing against how irritated she got with the limitations imposed by it.

[RhiaBlack]

Jyderin looked sheepishly understanding at the affirmation that it was fine - Z'dyn didn't seem to pay much notice. It was as natural for him to lack clothing as it was for most people to breathe, and he disliked anything being close to or around his neck. Especially when he was working hard enough to sweat. It made him fiercely uncomfortable, and Kee remained absent after her theft of the shred of meat.

"You are most welcome. I'm glad it helped, any time a Dragonet or Wheret can be thwarted from bringing harm to one of the Candidates, I'm honored to be a part of that. If not the reason, in any sense. Sadly, it seemed it wasn't enough for one of your own."

Jyderin seemed more sullen than ever with the caught mention of Orkia. Even Z'dyn's rather fierce scraping of the hide seemed to slack a bit, before his brows furrowed and he set himself back to stripping the fat, meat, and excess from the skin on the prop log. For a time, there was silence within the room aside from the sounds of tanning, before Jyderin finally broke it.

"Hands will mend, as will bones and injuries. I am the most glad that there was only two deaths to be had. Loss of any life after this plague and poisonings, it's two too many. I would have preferred none, but we must be thankful that it wasn't more."
"M'pops, always lookin' for the silver linin'."
"Someone must in this day and age, do not underestimate the strength and bearing of positivity."

Z'dyn's brow knit further, his back remaining to his father and somewhat to Sora as he worked over the hides. He hadn't sorted his issues with Nara, and it was as clear in his body language as it was in the venom within his words that it wasn't something he was simply just going to be all right with, with no measure of conversation on the matter.

"Don't underestimate nothin' no more."
"Any more."
"Don't go correctin' how I talk now. Lil' too late."

It was humiliating, for it to be pointed out in front of not only a woman, but a Candidate at that. Z'dyn's jaw hardened, and the Ironrider lingered in a cold sense of silence. Jyderin frowned, and shook his head.

"Have they said how long it will be before your hand is mended? I've mashed mine a time or two, but never to the extent yours seems to be hurt. I believe I'd go crazy, not having use of it. How do you manage?"

[Rii]

Orkia. Orkia, Orkia, Orkia. You didn’t even like her, Sora, so why’s it still eating at you? Her brows knit together. You didn’t like her, why do you care? But no matter how many times she reminded herself that she’d never liked the girl, it didn’t really make it go away. She was just constantly talking it in circles without ever being able to break out of it. She hadn’t really liked Orkia, but she’d tolerated her. She didn’t know if that was grounds to be able to grieve, but it was plenty grounds for feeling guilty. Her jaw tightened, trying to deny herself the outburst that she felt thumping in her head.

She shouldn’t have died.

The silence stretched out between them, but when it was broken it wasn’t any better. Sora shifted her weight uneasily on the stool, a cautious flicker of her eyes from Jyderin to Z’dyn and back at the reproof and rejoinder. She wasn’t sure what was going on between them, but that there was something wrong was obvious enough from the tartness of Z’dyn’s voice and the tension. Since they had seemed to be working contentedly enough together before she arrived, she could only conclude that her presence had directed conversation down a path that it would have been better for it not to go. Here I am once again, the common factor within some strife. Faranth, is the only way to avoid that happening to just not be around?

It could have been you.

Somehow it was much easier - certainly much safer - to talk about the bandage around her hand. “A couple sevendays more, they said, long’s it doesn’t get infected. I can do little things with it if I have to, so I guess it’s not so bad.” She sighed softly. “No climbing til after it’s healed full, though. I’ve been doing a lot of walking and running instead, but… well, it’s not the same. Lot easier to get away from people if they can’t figure out how to get up to where you are.” Her dejection might have been comical, if it hadn’t been so clear that she missed it. People who got to know her, or know of her, quickly became acquainted with her penchant for getting as close to the sky as she could without breaking the rules or asking for help - which in the Weyr usually meant climbing the closest building, since she couldn’t exactly fly or invade a rider’s weyr. Groundbound, there was no escaping people around her, let alone the thoughts that plagued her more than any person ever could.

Should have been you.

“She shouldn’t have died,” the words broke from her suddenly, flying from her lips before she could swallow them back for the thousandth time. Her hands - both of them - clenched into fists, ignoring the pain that the movement caused as it tugged at the stitches holding together healing flesh. “All of her fire and drive, and it’s gone. For some stupid, preventable accident, all in the name of not risking the hatchlings by inhibiting them. Because none of us are allowed to touch them, or get out of line, or do anything but stand there like sticks and hope they don’t make anyone bleed out on the sands. The only ones allowed to do anything are the clutchmothers, and they won’t. They won’t even tell us to get out of the way so they can stop their own offspring, but they’re fine with pushing us back in our neat orderly rows so the babies can keep doing whatever they please.” Her lips twisted in a bitter smirk, because it was all that held back the tears of frustration. “They can’t control their offspring any better than us humans can. Worse. Our children can’t kill people. Just hurt them.”

She’d kept it all bottled up since the Hatching, all of her worst expectations confirmed and exceeded on those blood-soaked sands, and now it was spilling out in spite of the iron control she usually imposed on herself. “Do you know what they said to us when it was done? What Kalesk said? ‘Thanks’. She said thanks. Because they didn’t care. Or maybe they just knew that sorry can’t change anything. It can’t undo anything that happened out there. Nothing can.”

[RhiaBlack]

The outburst was what got his attention. Z'dyn had been effectively tuning out much of what she was saying - not because he liked to, but because it was far more effective to try and stay angry at his father for the injustice he had just done by giving him the silent treatment.

Jyderin had been drawn much in the same, though the Master Tanner had clearly been listening to Sora much more than his Ironrider son. Hadn't been watching her closely enough to catch the knitted brow, but he saw the forming of her fists. He knew that frustration. Z'dyn had shown much the same when he had been so injured by the wild Wher, and in that regard he understood why she felt like she did. Jyderin didn't doubt for a single second that half the Stands, as well as most of the Candidates, had felt much the same way; in the manner of the Hatchlings, that was.

He washed his hands in the basin, drying them on a towel that was tossed across one shoulder. Pouring himself a mug of cold Klah, he pulled a stool over to plant himself beside Sora and take a break for a moment. It seemed a good time, but his eyes wandered from her to Z'dyn, who broke the silence between himself and the room.

"They can, but they see Candidates much's y'see their brood. Think 'bout it. Most'a the Candidates? Parents're in the Stands watchin'. Or they're Riders an' they know. We don't interfere wi' their kids, they don't feel't right t'interfere with ours. Only common thing 'tween the two sides're their kids. An' not everyone's always stable an' personable, an' even worse'n that, sometimes some'r prone t'meanness. Reds're just known for't. Don't mean every color's not gonna have mean streaks. S'pecially with a crowd that big 'round. She didn't have t'die, no, an' it's sad we lost 'er. But neither'd that Green. Sometimes things happen, an' we're left standin' askin' why. Not always an obvious answer, but th'long an' short'a it, is askin' yerself if yer gonna let 'em die for nothin'."

Z'dyn continued to shirk the blade across the hide, his attention still fully on the work before him.

"Ask m'self every day, if mebbe it should'a been me that died, not m'brother. Zadarin was smarter'n me, brighter'n me. Was trainin' t'be a Harper. Got sick, died, 'long with m'Ma. Dad fought with't fer a long while, same's me, an' then I got hurt. Kept askin' m'self why powers that be took m'brother, didn't take me. Certainly seemed t'be poor trade."

The movement of the blade on the hide, and the periodic shift of it against the log were the only sounds for a time. Z'dyn's pace slowed, before he leaned heavily against the head of the log's anchor point.

"Then I Impressed Baihujinth, an' Dad sent me a letter, when I was havin' such a hard time with 'im. Havin' t'tell 'im t'be nice all th'time. An' he told me somethin' I'm gonna carry to m'grave."

Jyderin had retained his silence the entire time, occupied by his mug of Klah - the limits of which were offered towards Sora.

"You'll have to remind me, I told you a lot of things in those days."
" 'Sometimes, brightest stars get taken from us, just 'cause otherwise nobody else'd figure out how t'shine like that on our own.' Everybody's gotta find their own rhyme an' reason, an' figure out where they're s'posed t'be. If m'brother an' Ma hadn't've died? Wouldn't've moved t'Western. Prolly wouldn't've been Searched, wouldn't've Stood. Wouldn't have Bai." He took a slow breath. "Wouldn't've had Dad."

Jyderin's guilt etched across his face so strongly that it brought the Kingrider pause. A mouthful of Klah seemed to give him a measure of strength.

"I almost left him there. Fifteen turns old, more than enough to be an adult, and walked into the sea. I hold myself to this day that it was my wife and son that kept that from happening. I thought for the longest time it was my fault. That they died because I didn't help them, because I didn't do enough, for whatever reason. I still live with that guilt, but I have Z'dyn with me again. It makes it easier to bear."

"Long's y'don't forget 'em, they live forever," Z'dyn remarked quietly, the pace of scraping on the hide picking back up. "Long's y'remember Orkia, an' so's ever-body else? She's not gone. It'll hurt, it'll always hurt, but test'a somebody's strength ain't in how many times y'can kick 'em. It's in how long takes 'em t'pull their boots back on an' keep goin'. Y'don't strike me's weak."

Jyderin clasped the mug between his hands, hooking one ankle over the other as he leaned back in the chair. Kee blinked into view on the Master Tanner's shoulder, and cheeped at him. She crawled across his chest, down his stomach, and hopped from his lap to Sora's knee, where she butted her head lightly against her bandaged fist. Lightly, as to not hurt her, of course. Kee understood what bandages meant.

"She isn't. One of the strongest girls I've ever had the pleasure of getting to know."
"Seems short supply 'round here these days."
"You might be surprised. After what I saw on the Sands the other evening, I don't doubt any of the inner strengths of anyone Standing for those clutches anymore."

[Rii]

Sora unwound her hands, petting Kee with fingers that trembled slightly. Outbursts from her were an unusual thing; it wasn’t often that she strung more than a sentence or two together at a time, let alone attach any sort of vehemence to them. She didn’t know if she felt better or worse for having started to voice the knotted-up mess she’d hoarded inside, but now that she’d started it didn’t seem like she was going to be able to stop.

“I didn’t even like her,” she said softly. “That’s the most crackdusted thing about it. I didn’t like her. She drove me crazy - no matter where I went, she’d pop up to ask me what I was doing, what I was thinking. The first time I met her? I was on the roof of the candidate barracks, and she climbed up to find out why I was there. Who does that? And no matter where I was, I never could get her to go away until she was good and ready to go. It was maddening - I gave up on telling her to go away because she wouldn’t listen. But I didn’t like her.”

The girl drew a slow breath. “Somehow that doesn’t make it any better, though. I always thought it would be easier, right… you keep people away, you care less if something happens with ‘em, and it doesn’t hurt. Orkia? She had a little brother, standing right next to her out there. Her friends were there. They have to have it ten, no, a hundred times worse. They loved her, like you with your family. They’re grieving, they should grieve, everyone understands that. Me, my own roommate I catch giving me odd looks, I don’t think she can figure out why I’m acting the way I am because she knows I don’t have friends. I can’t blame her, I don’t know. To me, she was this irritating girl who I always wished she’d go away and I never wanted her dead.”

Sora dragged the back of her hand across her eyes, chasing away the moisture that had welled up in them. “I didn’t like her,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t be the one crying about her, I don’t think I have that right when there wasn’t anything much between us. But somehow I guess I still cared about her anyway. Don’t know why, or how, but I do.” She drew her fingers down neck of the pink firelizard in her lap, finding a little comfort there. “Some nights I lay there staring at the ceiling and wondering if it should have been me, like you said with your brother, Z’dyn, sir. Except I don’t think it’d really fix anything, except to have fewer people missing someone they cared about.”

The comment about strength drew one of her customary bitter smirks to her lips. “Even I’m kind of surprised, how many didn’t break and run. Addy - my roommate, Adelaide - she had better control than me out there. They knocked her down three, four times, her with her hand broken after the first time and I knew by the end that she was wondering if it was worth getting back up, I could see it in her face. But she did, every time, and stayed right to the end. Guess there’s more to her than the chatter and bounce after all.”

[RhiaBlack]

Z'dyn hated to see a woman cry. Even a girl, though Sora looked close to a woman's age than a girl's. Part of what had broken him up so bad about Kira, how she'd curled in against him the first Hatching she Stood for. Cried over the death, about how she was afraid she'd never Impress, that this wasn't the place for her.

She'd been wrong, and somehow Z'dyn felt the same thing for Sora, too. Though it was obvious from the fact she was still Standing, that she was still -here-, even after all that had happened. Jyderin sipped his Klah, and Z'dyn hoisted himself up off the log-prop to wash his hands - once the finished skin was set with the others on Jyderin's work ledge. He tossed a towel across his shoulder, plucking a handkerchief from a stack on the side of the basin to carry it with him. Diverting towards the container, he poured both himself as well as Sora a mug, and kicked a crate over to sit on.

Planting himself into the makeshift seat, he passed the mug as well as the 'kerchief towards her.

"Y'know, some'a my best friends, they started out's people I couldn't stand. Was always botherin' me, an' gettin' inta things. Don't gotta like someone enough t'call 'em a friend, t'be sad when they're gone. We're social people, all'a us, much's some people say they're not. Y'know somebody long 'nough, they grow on ya. Sometimes when yer not expectin' it. Y'get used t'havin' 'em around, an' when they're not, it's a hole, sorta."

He took a pull off his Klah, and sat the mug down between his feet. Like Jyderin, he tended to lean on his knees more often than not, and with him being shorter than his father, it more than put him at eye-level. Hesitation, several movements of voicing a thought, before it was hidden once more behind his lips. Finally, he simply let it go.

"Was a Veridianrider in m'class..." He trailed off, chewing his cheek a moment. Are you sure you want to tell her? Are you sure you want to voice all of this? It's been stuffed away so long, Zeke... "Impressed same time I got Bai. Name was Varan, an' 'is Veri was Drakeith. Va'an, after 'is Impression. Thought he was too quiet, too reserved, first he an' me, we started talkin'. Turns passed, I got real fond'a 'im." Z'dyn's cheeks colored slightly, even though he looked sullen. "He left, not long b'fore I went t'Fort. Come back one day from patrols, and poof. Va'an gone, Drakeith gone. Was just startin' t'talk ta 'im. Was thinkin' things I prolly shouldn't've, but he meant lots t'me. Dunno if he's still alive, dunno if he's still fightin' Thread. If he was here, no question, I'd prolly not have Nara. I'd have 'im."

Z'dyn rubbed his hands, the lengths of which were sore from the handle of the blade. His gaze never met Sora's, nor his father's. Jyderin didn't seem particularly phased by the aspect of his Kingrider son sharing not only his weyr, but his bed, with another man. Some things didn't surprise him anymore, especially now that he'd moved here.

"He meant th'world t'me. Left, didn't say nothin'. Never knew how I felt 'bout 'im, either, I'm guessin'. Prolly never will. But I can bet you he'll always remember who I am. Much's yer never gonna forget Orkia. Not now, not ever. Some other people never really spoke to 'er, mebbe. You? Not you."

His voice had lowered considerably, almost apologetic. He plucked his mug from the floor, took a pull from the edge, and shook his head as he swallowed.

"No, yer wrong. Y'got every right t'cry, just's much as Orkia's family. Y'knew 'er too. Can bet she prolly told you stuff she never told nobody else. Secrets 'tween friends, 'cause if she kept botherin' you, means that's what she thought'a you. Dunno 'bout you, but I don't pester people I don't like. So yeah, y'got every right. Sometimes, that's all that'll help, cryin' it out. Nothin' t'be ashamed'a."

He shifted where he sat, and looked towards Jyderin, the Master Tanner content to let his son handle things. There was a specific knowledge of Dragons and Weyrlife that Z'dyn knew, which his father painfully lacked. Things that would come with time spent there, but time Jyderin didn't yet have under his belt.

"Dad tells me, don't matter who y'are, or how alone y'think you are, there's always someone cares 'bout you. Even if it's just a lil' bit. Somebody's always gonna miss you. Like I said...we're not made t'be alone forever. Life's not meant fer that. You? Those Wherets an' Dragonets, they passed up maulin' you worse an' killin' you, cause I can bet Yours was somewhere out there goin' 'hey, shardin' wherrybrains...that's mine...don't y'touch 'er!'. Prolly like Bai was doin' t'Dad. Who knows, might've been Orkia's Green got killed, an' was 'er time t'go, too. So even out there, she's got somebody with 'er. I know it's hard, 'specially now, but it'll get better. Promise. It'll still bother you, would bother anybody, if it don't, they're not human. But 'nough time passes, won't hurt quite so much. Thinkin' won't be long, you'll have somebody t'help y'get past it, too."

He didn't want to tell her that some things didn't get better with time. That some things hurt like salt on an open wound just as much as they had the day they'd happened. Especially with constant reminders about how things used to be. Empty chairs that used to have a specific person in it. Rooms that belonged to two souls, but were occupied by other bodies that didn't belong there. Faces he saw when he closed his eyes, voices he would probably never hear again.

Jyderin caught the shift in Z'dyn's demeanor, and rose to shake his son's shoulder slightly on the way back to his work ledge. Z'dyn mopped his face with the towel, but didn't move otherwise. His arms needed a break, small as it might be.

"Lots'a people got more to 'em than what y'see. Shells, I bet you've got more t'you than yer showin' me. Everybody's got their secrets an' their closet-bones, y'know. Just'a matter of whether y'think they're worth sharin' that stuff with. An'...don't go tellin' nobody 'bout Va'an. Wasn't somethin' I ever voiced, prolly just better t'let it die out. I won't forget 'im, but no good tellin' nobody else, was...just tryin' t'prove a point."

[Rii]

Sora wrapped her hands around the mug Z’dyn offered and set the handkerchief on her knee, but after that suspiciously watery moment, her eyes were dry, dry and dull because trouble had sucked the brightness out of the blue. At the moment those eyes were focused intently on the ironrider, because despite the massive gap in rank between them, he had the same down-to-earth qualities that had drawn her to his father. A bit of solid sense, in a world that all too often seemed devoid of it.

A hole. Well, that was an apt description of what Orkia had left - a void of someone who used to be there, used to talk to her, used to drag her sulking and fuming out of whatever thought-filled corner of her head she’d backed herself into. She’d resented it, sure, resented having whatever measure of peace she could find shattered. But maybe, secretly, she’d been a little grateful too, sometimes. Maybe the shift from disliking her to grudgingly tolerating her could have continued to something more. She’d never know, now. “She told me once that she liked to bother me because I looked like I was having a big think, and people who did that had the most interesting things to say. Guess she never found out if she was right or not.” She did not consider herself to be particularly interesting. Certainly she couldn’t think of anything incredibly deep or fascinating that she’d ever said.

“Sometimes people just do that,” she voiced softly, the story of Va’an pricking a little droplet of blood out of a buried well of hurt that was Turns old. “Up and go without any explanation, vanish and leave you wondering why. If there was anything you could’ve done differently that they would’ve stayed, that things would have turned out better.” She left it at that, cryptic as it was, because she wasn’t sure that she could handle talking about Miraguel with her current tenuous grasp on her composure.

Because she couldn’t cry in front of them. Or wouldn’t, rather. That was a little more vulnerability than she was willing to show right now. Of course, a few sevendays ago she wouldn’t have spilled out her troubles to another person, either. Sora took a sip from her mug, looking down at the liquid’s surface. Although Z’dyn didn’t voice the thought that some things just didn’t get better with time, it was a lesson she’d already learned. A lesson she was reminded daily by the raw wound that her brother had left. But, she had to smile a little at the ironrider’s slightly silly description of predestination. “Yeah… I guess we’ll see. Could be a while, know people who got left for Turns. But I figure, I’ve come this far, it’s a little late to get cold feet now.”

She lifted her chin proudly. “I don’t tell other people’s secrets, sir. That’s a fast track to not being worth someone’s trust, and I won’t be that kind of person.” She might not trust others to not be that kind of person, but she could at least know that she wasn’t. I’ll be the person people can trust, the one they can depend on. The one they don’t have to worry about. It was a determination that had shaped her for the last half of her life. She would be that person if it killed her.

[RhiaBlack]

"Sore lesson t'learn sudden like he taught me, that's for sure," Z'dyn sighed forlornly. "Left me with a powerful predisposition fer not trustin' people I care 'bout. Have th'same problem with Nara sometimes. Get angry't 'er fer nothin' at all, stuff seems real useless t'get mad at. Couple that wi' not toleratin' negative stuff from nobody, an' makes me a bit hard t'get along with sometimes."

He swallowed another mouthful of Klah, the other hand rubbing at his face with a measured breath.

"They tell ya King an' Queenriders're s'posed t'be unshakable, but it's a load'a wherry-crap. Nobody's unshakable, don't care how many times they're sayin' they're not. Or what they look like. I been grabbed an' tossed my fair share, an' done m'share'a the same." He thumbed over his shoulder at Jyderin. "Used t'think that man could move whole mountains by lookin' at 'em. Still do, but y'learn t'adjust how y'think an' see people when they show you stuff 'bout 'em nobody's seen."

Jyderin was brought pause at that, though Z'dyn's back was to him and his son couldn't see it. His lips tugged slightly in a smile before he went back to slathering hides with tannin. Z'dyn looked down into his mug, before he peered back up towards her.

"You're makin' out better'n some I know. Had a couple that were scared t'pieces they'd never Impress, but they did. Dalibor dragons don't choose wrong, not often 'nough for me t'say there's any chance that Candidates comin' here're gonna get left Standin' long. We got a long-standin' reputation for good things. Good t'see 'em bringin' in people that're willin' t'Stand even if they don't get picked straight-away. Means they're patient, an' I like patient people. Faranth knows I need all'a it I can get, what with D'lios causin' so much crap around here."

Jyderin looked up at that, and briefly winced. Oh boy. Please, for the love of Faranth don't get him started....

"I'd suppose it's not s'much a secret, as more along th'lines'a not remindin' people about 'im. Couple people here, Riders an' such, they were friends an' what not with 'im. Don't wanna make anyone sad without meanin' to, y'know? I half suspect was a couple other people lookin' for more'n friends with 'im, don't wanna wake up t'get punched by somebody."

He cracked a grin, and shook his head.

"Not that I think anybody would, s'pose. So. Your hand, that's th'only thin' got hurt?" There was concern and mild curiosity etched across his face.

[Rii]

“Yeah,” she agreed quietly, “I can follow that.” Listening to his thoughts on kingriders and queenriders being fallible just like other people, she couldn’t decide if she was surprised or not. On one hand, they were human, and thus they couldn’t be perfect. On the other, it made her wonder a little on why they automatically gave people respect based on the size and color of their dragon. That was something to tuck away for future consideration; something a little more healthy to think of than the blood on the sands and Orkia’s face.

There it was again. Shaking her head a little, she forced her thoughts back to the subject at hand. “Way I see it, it’s not really about being unshakeable. It’s about how well you can keep it together that other people believe it. ‘Cause you might be a mess but if no one gets to see it, the only one who knows you’re not unshakeable is you.” Putting on the brave, untouchable face was something she’d learned far sooner than any child should have learned. Small wonder people mistook her age now.

Sora shrugged, sipping from her mug again. “It helps to go out there not expecting to get anything, I guess. Seeing the others going out there hoping so hard that they’ll get picked, the ones that walk away because theirs wasn’t waiting for them look so crushed. I’m not going to put myself through that kind of highs and lows for the sake of a maybe. Not at fifteen - or sixteen, really. Soonish. Maybe if I’m still out there at nineteen, twenty, then I’ll start wondering again if Enciath and Argotath made a mistake.”

Which, in her personal opinion, was entirely possible. No matter what Jyderin said about her being special, she’d worked so long at making herself nothing special that she had trouble believing herself to be anything else. “Well, secret or not, it’s something you told me in confidence and asked me not to say anything, so I’m not about to go tell the Weyr.” That would require talking to people. Worse, it would be gossiping, which she preferred not to do. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced that you didn’t mean it as a secret. Sure as shells sounded like one.

The girl sighed and wriggled her fingers again. “Just the hand for me, so like I said, I got lucky. Considering the number of people with broken bones, or worse…” One of the wherlings had lost an arm. She couldn’t imagine how she’d cope with that. “It’s a nuisance, I guess, just could’ve been a lot worse. I like climbing, in my spare time,” she explained self-consciously. Showing that you like or dislike something gives them an opening. Yeah, you shut up too, headvoice. Trying to be a little more open, here. “Getting up off the ground, closer to the sky. Can’t do that until the healers say otherwise.”

[RhiaBlack]

"Don't think it'll take y'that long, honest," Z'dyn remarked with a slight shrug of his bared shoulders. "All we can do's pose a we'll-see, but truthfully? Can't see y'bein' left on your own more'n mebbe a turn or two."

Jyderin adjusted his hide that he was working on, settling back into using the sponge to smooth out and rub the tannin into the surface. Once he'd finished, it was set up to dry, and he started on another Z'dyn had finished. There was an almost mechanical method to how he worked, though in all truth it was just as much lovingly done as seemingly ingrained into his body's processes. He loved what he did, that much was obvious. It made him feel useful.

Sadly, it didn't require a whole heck of a lot of focus, either, which ended up being quite the problem if there wasn't anyone in here to talk to. At least for this phase of tanning. The process of armor repairs and actual leathercrafting took a bit more attention.

"With any luck, I will be getting introduced to your dragon next hatching," the Master Tanner spoke up quietly. "And with further luck, the next one won't be such a battle royale or a bloodbath."
"Depends on who't is, Dad."
"Let us hope that it's a reasonably large clutch. There are still lots of Candidates out there, that I saw. Those poor children could use some good news, after all that."

Z'dyn nodded slightly, rubbing his hands to massage the muscles in his palms and fingers. He hadn't done anything that extensive with his hands since he'd been a Candidate, outside of helping to stuff firestone sacks. It was a work out, for sure.

Draining the rest of his Klah, he pushed himself up for a refill.

"Reminds me, I need t'stop in an' apologize t'Kira. Was s'posed t'stay an' watch 'er Impress, but Nara was bein' shardin' impossible an' I just couldn't deal with't any more. Don't mean that gets me off th'hook, s'pose, but don't make it any better, either."
"We don't make promises we can't keep, Zeke."
"Z'dyn. An' I had every intention'a keepin't. Not a mind readin' sort, didn' know she was gonna be a pain'n th'tail."

Z'dyn shifted in his place, and went to sit back down on the log-prop, though backwards so he could still talk to and face the pair of them.

"You got any family that'd come see you Stand, Sora? Wouldn' mind bringin' 'em out here for you. Done it for a couple Candidates now, Bai can carry quite a few't his size. Be more'n willin' t'go get yer folks an' bring 'em out."

[Rii]

Sora took some comfort in watching the repetitive, methodical motions of Jyderin treating the hides. It was, she decided, something she could learn given practice and instruction, but not something she’d want to spend her life doing. Of course, there’s not much you -want- to do, Sora. Not much that she’d let herself want, to guard herself from disappointment. Well, up until someone had told her that she could, possibly, ride a dragon - and then all of the determination to not reach for anything that she wasn’t sure was in her grasp went right out the window. She didn’t think it was such a sure thing as they were stating it, though, so she shrugged. “We’ll see,” she agreed. “A turn, two, three - it doesn’t really matter. Waiting’s not going to make me go away.”

Hah. Luck. “I don’t believe in luck,” the teen muttered with a cynical twist of her lips. “Unless maybe it’s bad luck.” She’d believe that a calm hatching was possible when - if - she saw it. And it may be a warm day -between- before that happens. Sipping from her mug, she settled it on her knee again, her hands wrapped around it. “I can’t tell if people are hoping more for a nice hatching soon, to replace what happened there, or for nothing to clutch for a long while, to give people time to forget,” she commented quietly, blue eyes fixed introspectively on the liquid left in her mug. “I couldn’t pick one as for-certain better, though, I guess I can see both sides. It’s left people seriously messed up. Not just the injuries, though that’d be plenty.”

Hesitating for a moment, Sora turned the mug in her hands, trying to get her thoughts to line up into words. This was some of what lurked behind the roadblock of Orkia, and the heavy frustration left by the helplessness of the hatching. “Messed up,” she repeated. “I know that the candidatemaster’s wher - Yusk - she’s patrolling the halls every night, listening, trying to keep the nightmares away. I know people are having them. I think Adelaide would’ve tried to crawl in beside me that first night if she’d been able to make the climb to my bunk, just to hold onto someone. Which, thank Faranth, she didn’t.” She’d dodged an incredibly awkward shot there.

“But it’s kind of more than just nightmares. It’s when you catch a glimpse of white and remember the robes, or smell blood and think of all the sand that was covered in it. It’s when you see someone stop for a moment, or look away, or do something odd and you know they’re remembering it. You know it because maybe you are too, and you don’t know what to do about it because all you can do is wait and hope that after a while it won’t bother you - or them - so much anymore.” She sighed softly, and looked up with a bitter hook of a smile. “And then you end up sitting in the tanner’s workshop rambling about it, I guess.”

Family. Errgh. She supposed there was no getting around answering that. “No, it’s… it’s alright, really. If they had to watch something like that last hatching, they’d be more worried instead of less. Besides, they’re spread out, with my parents at Hope and oldest brother at Western.” She shrugged quickly. “I write now and again, let ‘em know I’m still here.”

[RhiaBlack]

Z'dyn's frown etched his features, and he shook his head. He wasn't sure what to think about anything around here anymore - just when he had thought it wouldn't get worse than it had when that boy and his Iron had been killed, it had. It'd gotten much, much worse.

Bad enough that Z'dyn wasn't sure he was going to watch another Hatching again. Kira had Impressed at this one, after all. Then again, he felt almost a grudged obligation to go with Jyderin to watch every one until Sora Impressed. After that, there wouldn't be any more he'd have to attend, thankfully. His stomach wasn't strong enough to handle watching children getting slaughtered by other confused children.

That is life, MineOwn.
That's shardin' foolish. Mamas better start steppin' in after this, otherwise we're not gonna have any shellin' Candidates left t'Impress.

The convey of thoughts from his Iron only deepened Z'dyn's furrowed brow, before he rubbed his face.

"Well, least y'got family t'come see you, time comes. Least they weren't here t'see all that."
"I'm grateful a lot of people weren't here to see that last Hatching."

Jyderin sighed, and Kee blinked between to appear on Z'dyn's shoulder. Evidence properly disposed of, she curled her tail around his neck and sat to watch Sora and Jyderin. Z'dyn scratched her back, before rising and retrieving another hide. It was laid across the prop, and grabbing the blade, he started scraping again. The rhythm of the edge and the slap of Jyderin's brush against the cleaned ones behind him served to be the only sound for a while.

"I fig're lots'a people're tryin' to forget about all that. Know I am. Prolly lots'a those kids. Never seems t'be any instance around here'a good news happenin' without bad."

Jyderin nodded in kind, a knock to the door finding a Drudge inquiring about a repair Jyderin had been asked to handle the morning prior. Washing off his hands and grabbing a towel, the Master Tanner quickly sorted through completed work to hand off the leather lengths. Covers, by the looks of it. Within a moment or two he was back to work.

"I imagine they'll do their best to keep that from happening again. Who knows, however. All we can do is hope for the best and prepare for the worst." He shrugged faintly. "How are you handling things, Sora?"

[Rii]

If Sora had known that Z’dyn felt any sort of obligation to her, grudging or otherwise, she would have been quick to try to dispel it. Obligation was attention. Attention was something she preferred to avoid, when she wanted to make as little impact as possible on people’s lives. Alas, she was not psychic (who was?) and the only way she’d have a thought-to-thought link was if a dragon someday found favor in her. So Z’dyn was safe from her dissuasion until he voiced any thoughts of obligation that he might have.

It probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. Jyderin’s offspring seemed as stubborn and immune to such offputting tactics as Jyderin himself. Unfortunate. Still, she couldn’t really begrudge him that sense of solid immutability when it was what she appreciated the most. Even that they were working while they talked gave a comforting reminder that life continued, even when terrible things happened. They were bothered by it, same as she was, but they didn’t shut down over it. “Well, the forgetting part takes time, if it’s even possible. Or not so much forgetting, as not remembering it every time you do… well, anything.”

Sora uttered a half-stifled sigh. “I don’t even know what they can do about it. They can’t force everyone to wear armor - not that it helped… everyone, anyway. And if you’re right, Z’dyn, sir, and the mothers don’t want to interfere with the candidates because we’re not theirs… well, what can they do? Aside from hope that the dragonets and wherets don’t hatch feeling mean.” Her shoulders slumped a little, giving a bit of a shrug. “Everyone insists that what happened was really rare, but I don’t really have anything else to go by. I mean, what was yours like? If it’s not going too far to ask.”

Another quick shrug. “I’m handling it. Awful lot of people asking, trying to pry out… well, the same stuff that I’ve been telling you, really. It’s weird.” Not so much weird to have people prying, as weird to know there’s someone I talk to, she amended silently. “I tell them I’m fine but after that mess? No one completely buys it. But somehow, ‘I don’t want to talk about it to you’ just seems rude. I could get away with saying it to other candidates, but the rest? Pretty sure I’d get in trouble.” She was rather pessimistic of being treated like a person instead of an outranked-by-everyone candidate. (Thanks a lot, nameless rider from the kitchens.) “Guess it’s going to take time, before it all bothers me less, but right now? All of it. All the sharding time.” No matter how much I pretend otherwise.

[RhiaBlack]

"That part doesn't tend to lessen for a while, unfortunately," Jyderin affirmed with that neutral manner he had, when he was trying to find a bright side in something. "Especially this soon after what happened, I imagine there will be a few sevendays where it seems harder to deal with. Time will lessen it, though, don't you worry. Pretty soon, only something that's directly tied to what happened - someone gets a scratch on their neck, or maybe you see a butcher's apron, or somesuch - will draw you to that. Certainly doesn't seem that way for now, but I only find myself remembering what happened to my wife and son when I visit the infirmary. Needless to say, I don't make a habit of going there often."

Z'dyn continued to scrape hides, his features sullen and somewhat guarded for a moment or two, before his shoulders shifted in a shrug.

"You're right. Prolly not much they can do, outside'a that. Bein' said, though, still thinkin' somethin' made them babies come out mean like that. First time I ever seen any Hatchin' go like that. Almost all them kids were lookin' t'hurt somebody, not right. Might have somethin' t'do with that antidote. Prolly somethin' can't nobody help, think it's the first time I ever heard anythin' about somebody poisonin' a Weyr's food supply. So it's bound t'have repro...rep....bound t'have bad results'a some sort. Havin' both them clutches t'gether prolly didn't help anythin' either. Hopefully that don't happen again, but can't control when Dragons rise an' Whers run, so it very well might. Dunno. All we can do's hope that after that, Dad's busier with requests for armor." He shrugged.

"Bai's clutch had th'first set'a twin-anythin' in the same egg. Twin tans, mirror'a each other. Mith an' Unath. Was a couple maulin's, but nobody got killed, least I can remember. I think - don't quote me onnit, though - that it was the first time we got Veridians, too. Dalibor, it doesn't have normal Hatchin's. S'what makes us unique from every other Weyr, I s'pose." Z'dyn shook his head. "Hopefully last time we're gettin' a death, though. Not real fond'a watchin' people die."

Jyderin's fingers rubbed across a hide, testing the surface before he slathered it with another layer of tannin, and was right back to rubbing it in with the sponge. He wasn't overly fast at what he did, but there called for a specific degree of caution and attention to his craft. Sloppy and half-done hide curings only ended up in more work for him in repairs later. Better and best to do it correctly the first time.

"It's perfectly acceptable to tell someone you don't feel comfortable talking about something with them. Your fellow Candidates may take offense, but that's something that children eventually grow out of. When we become adults, most of us learn that not everyone feels the need to divulge their entire family history and life story to everyone. Sure, some people are like that, but I've met my share of those who are very private as far as their personal feelings and lives are concerned. What you may feel comfortable discussing with one person, you may not with someone else. That's just how personalities work. If they wish to hold that against you and be angry, well, it's their loss. Not yours. Like being reclusive to some extents, there's nothing wrong with it. It's natural and normal. I'm pretty sure that nobody in existence ever told anyone else everything about them or everything they think. There are things I'm certain I don't know about Z'dyn, yet he's my own flesh and blood. I accept that there are things he can't discuss with me, that he can with other people, and that there are very much things about him that he talks about with me, that other people may or will never know."

[Rii]

Triggers. Scarring events left triggers. Of course, Sora wouldn’t have put it in those terms, she wasn’t a healer. To her, bad events left bad memories, and she remembered them more often than not, right now. Still, she appreciated the reassurance that in time, she’d spend less time thinking about what had happened and more time living her life. Moving forward. It had always been her philosophy to not stop doing all of the normal things she did - mostly working, running, climbing - even when something heavy was weighing her down. If she stopped, it would just sit there on her shoulders. If she kept moving, eventually it would fall off. Hopefully. At the very least she’d get used to carrying that weight.

For now, though, it was rough. It was actually incredibly hard to sit here in the tanner’s workspace while they were cleaning hides. The scent of blood stung her nose constantly, the air rife with reminders of the tragedies of the hatching. Sheer stubborn will kept her in her seat, will and the desire to spend some time in Jyderin’s steadying presence. Even so, the longer she stayed, even while listening to Z’dyn’s account of his very exciting but definitely less bloody hatching, the more her fingers tightened around the mug she held. Reassuring as the two men were, she couldn’t completely release the tension she’d carried into the room with her because of that heavy, metallic scent bringing it all back.

No. I’m not going to be beaten by a -smell-, of all things, she told herself stubbornly. So there. Now stop it. “I didn’t even know dragons could have twins,” she commented, grabbing the thread of the conversation and hanging onto it for all she was worth. “Do you suppose it could happen in firelizards and whers too, then?” She… actually didn’t want to contemplate two whers coming out of the same egg. One wher was bad enough. “I guess… I really hope for more hatchings like that and none like we just had.”

Sora shook her head a bit. “It’s the Candidatemasters I’m worried about, mostly. I mean, if refusing to talk to them about it makes problems, getting Searched will all be for nothing, won’t it? I don’t think they’d kick me out for something that small, unless… well, unless they thought I was hiding something that’d be bad for the next batch of hatchlings.” Looking down, she realized she was gripping the mug so tightly that her knuckles were white, and forced her fingers to ease. “And…” Are you crazy, there’s a rider right sharding there, don’t bring this up now, “It’d be okay for candidates, but… I don’t want to offend a rider by mistake. I did that once, just a little comment in the kitchens before I knew he was a rider, and he threatened to report it to the Candidatemasters as insubordination, maybe get me barred from standing for a hatching.” Something that might have been a half-smirk tugged at her lips, even though she looked utterly miserable at the recollection. “Which might have been a blessing for that hatching, but… I just don’t want to risk it.”

[RhiaBlack]

Jyderin was peering at her curiously, though it was Z'dyn who spoke, while he continued to strip hides. The steady sound of the blade against the underside of the skin was smooth and melodic, the Ironrider's attention settled on his work through his conversation.

"Didn' know either. Lots'a people were s'prised. Heard Qsis got rich off'a them eggshells, hopin' Valha got some'a them Marks, too. Only fair. Prolly just as rare for it t'happen with Flits an' Whers, would be interestin' t'see, though, all the same. Who knows? Mebbe it'll happen't yer one, where y'Impress, an' you'll get one'a them. Might make for interestin' conversation, say th'least."

"Are you all right, Sora?" Jyderin spoke quietly, pausing in the already slowed process of sorting the tannin across the skins that Z'dyn had cleaned, "Your hands. Your knuckles are white....is there something the matter? You're not ill, are you?"

The inquiry made Z'dyn pause, and he looked up to follow his father's gaze. He waited a moment to see if there was indeed something wrong, perhaps something he could help with.

"As fer offendin' somebody's got rank, would like t'think mebbe people're respectful 'nough t'understand what Pops said. That some people jus' don't feel comfortable talkin' to 'em 'bout some things. I 'magine, y'just tell 'em that it's not somethin' y'feel all right chattin' about with 'em, that it's nothin' gonna effect yer work or anythin' like that, they're content t'leave ya be. Might check in on you, make sure y'said somethin' t'whoever y'were gonna talk to, make sure yer all right. But most'a those here I know, least...they're pretty understandin' folk."

[Rii]

“It would be interesting to see,” she agreed in a slightly wistful tone. “I wonder if you could get two different colors out of the same egg? Like fraternal twins. People would talk for Turns about that.” Now that was the kind of gossip she could handle. Something interesting, instead of something mean-spirited. “Of course, way I heard it, every time something odd happens at this Weyr, conservative people at other Weyrs complain. Which…” she shook her head. “What’s it to them? It’s not their Weyr anyway.”

Politics. Eugh.

“No!” she blurted, alarmed that he thought she might be ill. She hadn’t come to make them worry about her, this had been a terrible idea and if she hadn’t known that it would make it worse, she’d have bolted right then and there. “I mean… no, I’m not sick. I’m alright. It’s just…” Sora drew a slow breath to steady herself, but it just flooded her nose with that coppery tang.

The blue pursued the vicious wheret with a singleminded focus, treading over the fallen girl in his hurry to catch the one who’d caused so much blood. His foot caught on the girl’s throat to rake it open, and he looked back at the gush of blood with a squall of dismay before fleeing the scene of his inadvertent crime. All through the cluster of candidates, there were cries of protest and dismay, but there was an odd sort of buzz in her ears that made it all quiet. All she could see was that distantly surprised look on the dead girl’s face, and her lips formed her own quietly numb protest. “Orkia…”

Sora shifted her weight on her stool, forcing herself to focus on the here and now, again ordering her fingers to ease their grip on her mug. She took a sip of the cold klah. “It’s the smell,” she admitted after she’d reattained the level of self-control she expected of herself. With the times she’d visited Jyderin here before the Hatching without the slightest sign of physical discomfort or complaint, that it bothered her enough now to admit something was wrong spoke volumes. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m alright.” I hope.

She nodded. “I hope so, Z’dyn, sir. Maybe I just managed to run into one of the less-understanding ones.” Or he was just a bully. Who knew they came in dragonrider form, too? “I’ll do as you say, let them know I’d just rather not talk about it. Nicely though.” And who knew. If they came here to check up on how truthful she’d been about talking to Jyderin, he might even back her up. I won’t count on it completely just in case, but… it’s kind of nice to have someone on my side. Sort of.

[RhiaBlack]

"Jealous," Z'dyn quipped, the badly-toned singing of the dull edge against the hide never once quelled. "Other Weyrs, they get right an' mighty jealous, can't blame 'em. I've been't this Weyr for buncha Turns now, been ta Fort for a bit, visited others, an' nobody else's got what we've got. We're a respectable Weyr, no matter what they're tryin' t'pull on us. No matter what happens. Can't nobody take down Dalibor, try's they might."

Someone was proud of the place, that much was obvious, and Z'dyn would never disrespect his Weyr by talking badly about it, no matter if there were people here he disliked or not. Dalibor was his home, it was the only place he could viably -call- home. Cove was so long ago it was a memory, and Western was...well...he had helped build Western with his father and the others from Cove, but it wasn't home to him. Dalibor was home.

The blurt was a blatant 'yes, something is wrong', and when she finally cropped up to what it was, Jyderin frowned.

"My goodness, you should have said something - Z'dyn, wash that floor and cover the scrap bin, would you, please?"
" 'Course."

The Ironrider hopped off his perch, and grabbed a bucket; the basin of water was dipped into, and he washed the blood and such from the floor, the prop-log, and splashed some on the remaining hides still yet-to-be-cleaned, in order to rinse what lingered from that side out. A leather cover was pulled down over them, which admittedly while it didn't completely remove the scent, it did mask it a bit. The scrap bin was covered with a panel of metal, weighted down by a bin of rolled, cured hides, before Z'dyn propped the door open to let it air out.

"Hopefully that lessens it a bit for you, and it gets a little less potent in here. My apologies, I should have realized. Don't you dare apologize, it's not even remotely your fault. I won't have anyone uncomfortable down here, not even my own son. It's nothing to be apologetic for. It's not usually like this down here, but with the size of the recent Hatching, there's a lot of demand to be filled. While I can't say that it'll never smell like this in here, given the nature of my work, I can say I'll do everything in my power to make it not horrible and not unsettling."

Jyderin frowned, and sighed - obviously at his own indescretions. She had just survived a serious mauling, blood was obviously a trigger for her. He should have known that. Z'dyn gave his father a look. One of those 'Come on, Dad' expressions that had the smaller man shifting his face against his shoulder to wipe it against the cloth that had been tossed across it.

Subject change, Jyderin. Suuuubject change, for the love of Pern.

"We could suspect that potentially something like that might happen, but who knows? This Weyr is known for strange things, and we've already seen a new color, as well, so anything is possible. What two colors do you think might do the Fraternal Twin thing?"

[Rii]

Sora wasn’t so sure that jealous was an accurate assessment, but far be it from her to outright disagree with an ironrider. She rather thought they were just hidebound and unwilling to easily accept the breaks from tradition. Tradition for tradition’s sake. She could sort of appreciate that and sort of not. “Well, we’ll never get bored here,” she returned in dry humor. “Nor too complacent, with different things happening all around us. Not sure that’s such a great thing or not, given that they mostly seem like bad things, like the poisonings… that’s just...” she shook her head, still baffled that people would poison dragons. Maybe Dalibor was just unlucky. She’d quipped earlier that she didn’t believe in luck, unless it was possibly bad luck, but here that thought was already proving itself.

The girl hunched her shoulders in a bit, feeling abjectly miserable as Z’dyn bustled around and made the workspace less bloody. No matter how much Jyderin would insist that she didn’t apologize, that it wasn’t her fault, that it was entirely understandable, she had enough Turns of practice in blaming herself that she could always pick out a flaw in her behavior or actions that would have turned an issue into a nonissue. Sometimes they were things that she could work on controlling or fixing, and that was okay. Sometimes all she could do was try to avoid the situation that flaw cropped up in.

She refused to avoid going to one of the few people around that she found was worth talking to. “I don’t like complaining,” she replied to the nudge that she should have said something. That was an understatement. She hated complaining. She hated letting anything get to her so much that she’d turn to someone else and expect them to deal with the fact that it was getting to her. Jyderin was far too good at picking such confessions out of her, and she wasn’t sure if she liked that or not. “Blood didn’t matter to me before the Hatching and I’m not going to let it dictate where I go now. Even if it makes me think of things I’d rather not.” Another of her trademark half-smirks twisted her lips. “Not like I don’t get to thinking about it anyway, right now. Like you said, it’ll bug me less in time.”

On the other hand, it bugged her way too much right now, and the drop in the heaviness of the scent was met with a slow easing of her body’s tension. Like them, she leapt at the change in subject. “I expect it would be more likely in the smaller dragons. Part because there’s so many more of them, part because… well, they’re smaller, easier to fit two of them in the same egg. The twin tan egg must have been huge. It would help if they were docile, though. Maybe a black and a pink, or black and a grey or white? Although greys and whites aren’t exactly common,” she mused over the hypothetical fraternal egg. “I wonder if it would influence how they bonded with people, or how they’d behave around each other.”

[RhiaBlack]

"Th'Tans're different's a Gold an' a Red."

Z'dyn's mouth soured at the thought of Mith and Unath. How different the two were, how different their RIDERS were. The sneer that curled his lip was barely masked, but he fought back the urge to bite the venom that lingered there.

"Valha, she loves Firelizards, an' Mith's a sweetheart. So's Unath, when Q'sis ain't usin' 'er as a shardin' puppet. He don't like anythin' small, either. No pets fer that'n. So in some sorts, they're twins. Color, gender, all that, but everythin' else, they're polar opposites. Unath's th'first Queen at Dalibor t'Impress a male, at that."

Jyderin was pleased at how his son had learned to bite back much of his anger in Q'sis' behalf. He had heard the frustrations vented when the Tanrider had mentioned to Z'dyn about the way he spoke. Much less the absolute rage in regards to how that one particular Hatching had undergone. Z'dyn held grudges for those who did something that threatened the health of the Weyr, but he wasn't about to put his own rank in jeopardy over an unfortunate happenstance that had been handled by the upper echelon of Weyrleadership.

It certainly didn't make him like the man any better, at any rate. Z'dyn pondered if that was why he was so anti-children. The last thing he wanted was a weakness. It was bad enough he was already fighting a losing battle with Nara and Naras. Hunching his shoulders, he threw his weight into his work, and Jyderin left him alone.

"I've heard much of the bad luck this place seems to have, but Dalibor has always come out on top in some form or another. I mean...there was the poisonings and the plague, but we've turned around and produced yet another color mutation as a result. That has to be good news, in some form. I can't blame the maulings and death at the last Hatching purely on one mutation. I still hold to the fact that the aggression stemmed from the double-Hatching. I'm told Whers dislike light, so that coupled with the noise and the crowd probably didn't help matters any. But enough of that. We've had enough bad things happen, I'm looking forward to some good news for a change. Winter is coming, so we'll have less Thread to worry about, which means more time spent being social and furthering Crafts for many. Do you have one you study, Sora? I could swear you told me you did, but I may be mis-remembering."

Z'dyn had to agree with that. More time not fighting Thread meant more time flying with Bai, more time in his weyr with warm Klah and Kee. His Pink was due to rise again soon, and this time he hoped she wouldn't hide the eggs. He'd like another firelizard sometime soon, it would be nice to have company for her. Though he wasn't exactly sure if she would take to having competition for his attention.

Jyderin slid the last of the skins to the side, setting them to stretch and cure as he waited for Z'dyn to finish the rest. He plucked the Klah pot from the countertop, once he'd washed his hands.

"I'll be back in a moment. Going to switch this out for some fresher stuff, potentially reheat it. Is there anything from the kitchen you'd like, Sora? Z'dyn?"
"Meatrolls."

It was the only word uttered from the Ironrider, and once Sora answered him, he vanished into the corridor.

Leaving Sora, for a handful of minutes at least, alone with Z'dyn.

[Rii]

This wasn’t the first time that Sora had heard (or overheard) negative commentary on this ‘Q’sis’ rider. She’d never met him, personally. If even half of what she’d heard was true, she didn’t want to. He sounded very much like the kind of person she preferred to avoid and ignore. Pretend he didn’t exist. Right now, of course, she wouldn’t be able to entirely ignore him because he ranked her, but she could avoid him. She was probably beneath his notice, anyway. Thank Faranth.

“Well, if it’s happened once, it’ll happen again. Someday, anyway.” Hopefully to a nicer person. She turned the mug slowly in her hands. “Good point, though. They could Impress to polar opposites. Or,” her lips curved in a momentarily whimsical expression, “they could Impress to siblings. Maybe twins. That would be funny.” Twins for twins. The likelihood was so infinitessimally low that it was nonexistent, but since they were dealing with an imaginary situation anyway, why not? Because they’ll wonder why they’re bothering to talk to you? Oh, shut up, headvoice.

Good news. Dalibor winter was not good news. “At least I’ll know what to expect for winter weather, this time,” she offered in dry humor. “Shovelling snow won’t be such a rude shock.” She dreaded the season change, a bit. Not just for the temperature, but because as Jyderin had pointed out, winter was a social season, as everyone was driven indoors by inclement weather. She shook her head at his question. “No, no craft. I never really found anything that grabbed me.” Never let anything grab you. Never let the dreams grow in case they got crushed. “Just more of a…” About to say drudge, she remembered that Jyderin had told her that his wife and Z’dyn had been drudges, and might take it wrong coming from a cotholder girl, like she was being derogatory. Even if really, working in the fields of a cothold was the exact same as being a field drudge for a major hold. Sora shrugged quickly, substituting, “well, I just do whatever work needs doing. Always have. Never looked to change that.”

Sora shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks.” She looked down at her mug as Jyderin left, leaving her alone and uncomfortable with Z’dyn. She was a bit wary of him, even if her mind had already tentatively set him as ‘like Jyderin’, which meant ‘possibly worth talking to’. It didn’t mean she was able to make easy small talk with him. For a few minutes, silence descended on the room. Sora was fine with sitting in silence; if she could find someone who was willing to just sit and skygaze without the necessity of commentary, she’d probably call them a friend. But being in private with the ironrider, a tug of curiosity impinged on her thoughts. A question that Z’dyn was probably more suited to answer than anyone. If the asking of it didn’t get taken as offensive or prying.

“Z’dyn, sir,” she started hesitantly. “I… you’d know this… is… was it hard? Going from just working in the fields, to riding an iron? I don’t mean to pry, I just… was wondering.” Wondering if I’ll be any good at being a dragonrider.