Catching the Moment {open to all}

[kiaro]

Kiaro, wrapped up in winter wear, sat in the cold grass against the Winter wind, his face inches away from a piece of white aged hide, scratching the picture of the lake in charcoal. He glanced up briefly, noting the details of the cool water, the way it glinted in the noon sun, the way every ripple of water glittered in a different shade, before carefully etching the details onto the hide. He sniffled and blinked, glancing up again at the lake. It wasn't until a drip from his nose hit the hide sheet that he looked up.

"Shards." He mumbled, wiping the perspiration off the paper, smudging a bit of the charcoal waterfall. He sighed and sniffled again, carefully blowing onto his image before gently stroking over the smudged area.

Sitting straight, he stretched his stiff back. He'd been sitting still, back bent, for hours now. His back cracked and popped happily and he sighed in relief. Holding up the hide image, he looked back and forth between the image and the real thing. Sticking his tongue between his teeth, he bent over his picture again, adding more detail to the waterfall in the distance.

(I wasn't sure if there is snow on Dalibor or not, so I just didn't bother adding any)

[aikastarr]

Krysthanine wasn’t really bothered by the cold. In fact, even as she danced across the empty Weyr in a mauve tunic and white leggings, she wasn’t fazed. Humming an airy tune, the girls leapt and twirled in a sprightly dance with the wind, deftly evading any obstacles in her routine. Her dark chocolate hair whirled and billowed behind her as she jumped onto a small stone and launched herself forward. Grabbing the limb of a tree was easy for her, what with all of her wild adventures from her youth. ”I love winter!” she cried to the open air, swinging herself off of the branch while sprinting to the lake. She almost catapulted herself into the shimmering waters when she dug her heels into the ground, twirling gracefully when she halted. She posed for a minute, then fell to her knees giggling. Oh, how the wind tickled her face and teased her limbs into a waltz with the frigid air. Letting out a sigh, she admired the lake, and watched as the few remaining birds settled into the tree across from her.

[arratra]

Arratra was walking towards the lake, shrouded in his cloak.
His right arm was still splinted and in a sling, even after so long, but his leg was as good as new.

"How's the sketch coming along?" he asked Kiaro as he stepped up alongside. He sat down awkwardly, twitching the fingers on his right hand as he did so.
"I just wish I could use my damn arm again," he said angrily, thumping the ground with his good fist, "Caring for Avartiath and handling my lessons is so sharding hard with only one hand. At the very least I can now give him firestone, but it's still awkward."
He took several deep breaths, then closed his eyes.
"That's better. Needed to get that off my chest."

[kiaro]

Kiaro heard the sound of someone approaching. Well, dancing and running was more like it. He tore his eyes away from the sketch to watch as the girl twirled in her mauve tunic. A smile crept its way onto his face and he laughed. Her spirit shone very brightly against the cold weather. He watched as she quickly pivoted to avoid splashing head first into the probably freezing waters. She sighed, looking across the lake.

He was about to yell a greeting, when another person came along, a guy this time. His arm was in a splint.

"Its coming along pretty good I think." Kiaro responded to the persons question, looking at his sketch briefly. The person sat down awkwardly, than slammed his fist into the cold ground, telling Kiaro about his injury. "Your a rider than? What happened to your arm?" Kiaro asked.

He glanced at the girl again before calling out to her, "Hey! Come on and join us." He said with a smile, sliding his charcoal pencil into his sac and pulling his knees up, leaning on his hands.

[arratra]

"I slipped on the ledge outside my weyr and broke my arm and leg," he said, waving his good hand at his splinted arm and the opposite leg. "During the war," he added, his voice bitter. He fell into silence, staring out over the lake. He absently picked up a flat stone with his good hand, and attempted to skim it across the water. The stone plunked into the water the first time it struck it.

[aikastarr]

As she looked up from her seat, a call struck her ears for her to join two young men. Curiosity was about to take her from her perch before she was startled by the plunking stone. With a squeal ripping from her thin lips, Krysthanine jumped back as soon as she felt herself tipping forward. The girl lifted her eyes to see her inviters, and grinned broadly. ”Okay, be right there! she called joyously as she righted herself and began dashing towards the two.

In moments she was upon them, crouching beside Kiaro. ”That’s a nice sketch you got there! Where’d you learn to draw like that?” she asked, awestruck by the detail and intricacy of the sweeping lines on the hide. Krysthanine had always been fascinated by art in all forms, and the smudge on the hide made her think of the spirits that surround them. Giving a slight smile, she leaned back onto the balls of her bare feet before leaning forward to whisper in Kiaro’s ear, ”Do you believe in spirits?”

[hope]

Eavar was tightly bound inside his winter wear. He loathed the cold. It made his bones itch and his hair tingle in ways that it wasn't supposed to. Things being where they weren't supposed to be bothered him greatly... like a bung of ragtag candidates out doing nothing but wasting time. Shouldn't they be doing something to better themselves? to make themselves seem more worthy of a clutch? Eavar knew he should be. Ho many clutches had passed by him without eben an inkling of interest. He was becoming a bit of a joke...

"Oh, if Eavar is here everyone is bound to impress just to stay away from Eavar." He acted as if it all didn't bother him, when in truth it did. The jokes, the jabs sunk deep in to his heart and was returned with biting cynicism and an aloof, uncaring attitude. He was one of the longest standing candidates at Dalibor weyr and the fact that he had yet to impress made him grumpier with each clutch. Cyrina had sent him away to do things that boys do outside... which for Eavar meant bringing along some sort of mediocre craft to work on... knitting... as if he weren't a joke enough, she had to throw knitting at him. He was sure he'd find a quiet place where he wouldn't be disturbed, but of course he was wrong again. Knitting tools hidden well beneath his shoulder, his curiosity go the better of him and he sauntered up to the group of giggles and dancing. He heard one proclaim that they loved winter and Eavar made a not of it to dislike her and her unnatural love of cold.

The giggling pleasantries were enough to make his head hurt, but still he moved forward to look over the boys head, "Aren't you a dragon candidate, Kiaro?" He recognized the boy without a doubt. Eavar had been at Dalibor Weyr for quite some time and took note of all his 'competition' as it was. The girl seemed far too flighty, a green or a pink perhaps. Then again, he'd seen stranger things happen. "If only I had a past time to keep me from improbing myself, I mihjy look more lazy and carefree as you Kiaro." there was a hint of a malicious tint to his tone. There was no question about it, Eavar seemed jealous or the other candidate... though if he thought about it he really couldn't say why.

[arratra]

A'tra turned his head sharply.
"Well, well," he said, a hint of irony in his voice, "Out doing the knitting again, are we, Eavar? I'd just finished scrubbing and oiling an itchy spot on Avartiath's hide when I came out here. Well, I guess you can't complain; after all, you don't have an injured arm hampering you."
He shifted slightly, just enough to expose the splint on his arm for a moment, before the cloak slipped its folds back over the arm, and back into place.
"My arm still hasn't healed properly," he said in a conversational tone completely at odds with the words he was saying, "Still, in a few more days, the healers say I can take the splint off."

[hope]

"My knitting is my own business. Ht helps me with concentration and focus... though I suppose pain could do the same for you. Relish in your splints A'tra." A rider younger than him, Oh how it infuriated him when the younger one's impressed, leaving him in the dustbowl all alone. It made it all the more disheartening. "But if you must know, it's for my mother. She wanted new socks, and I told her I'd make some for her. I'm so generous, don't you think?" Eavar gave the rider one of his winning... though slightly wicked smiled despite the semi banter between them. "I hear the more you walk on them the better."

Eaver decided, for once, that company was better than none at all, and ih his presence there made things unnerving or off balance for the rest of the group, all the better. He removed the knitting needles and began to work on a brown yarn that was slowly taking the shape of a sock. He didn't care if it made the others snicker. Eavar rarely cared what others thought about him... at least on the surface. But he was never able to break out of that cement wall he'd built for himself.

"What happened to your arm anyway?" Eavar feigned an interest on the topic, though it was an act, he was genuinely interested in anything that dealt with riders business. He had to keep up the show for his reputations sake, though. "Did you fall off or do something especially clumbsy? Because that would make my day." There was that malicious smile again. As if on cue, the needle slipped and stabbed poor Eavar in the finger. With a sharp gasp he dropped the knitting to his lap and shook the offended finger, before sticking it in his mouth as if to suck the pain away.

[arratra]

A'tra shook his head.
"The war," he said, "The noise woke me up and I dashed out onto my ledge. There was something slippery on the ledge, and my feet slid out from under me... The clothes I was wearing at the time were ruined, and I didn't see them afterwards, but I... I have a bad feeling that it may have been ichor."
He pointed a dire finger at Eavar, "And you wouldn't be relishing or blessing a splint when you have a dragon to take care of."
There was a faint rumble from the weyr right above the storage cave, and A'tra shook his head.
"Yes, thank you, Avartiath," he said plainly, "I was fully aware that you were still awake."

[kiaro]

"Oh," Kiaro said, when A'tra gave his explination. "I'm sorry. I hope you heal up quickly."

A smile rose as the girl bounded over, cheery despite the cold. ”That’s a nice sketch you got there! Where’d you learn to draw like that?” She asked.

"I've been drawing for a while, on stones or hide or anything I could draw on." Kiaro replied with a laugh. She leaned foreward suddenly and whispered in his ear ”Do you believe in spirits?”

"Hm? Well, I haven't really thought about." Kiaro mumbled, looking across the lake. He heard another person approaching, someone he'd seen quite a bit around the Weyr. He didn't really know who it was, Eavar, he believed, but apparently the bundled up person knew him.

"Aren't you a dragon candidate, Kiaro?" He asked. Kiaro looked, smiled and nodded to him. "If only I had a past time to keep me from improbing myself, I might look more lazy and carefree as you Kiaro."

Kiaros smiled faltered at the slight maliciousness in his tone, but smiled all the same. A'tra turned and spoke provokingly to Eavar. Kiaro wasn't exactly comfortable with where the conversation was going. Either way, Eavar sat down and began knitting. It was an art, knitting, even though many people thought it was mediocre. You were still using talent to craft something useful or pretty, which to Kiaro, was art.

Eavar began asking about A'tras injury, making another provoking jab before stabbing himself in the finger with one of his rather sharp knitting needles. The sudden injury surprised Kiaro, who almost threw himself onto his feet before even checking what happened.

"Are you okay?" Kiaro asked as Eavar sucked on the wound. It didn't appear to be a bad wound, but Kiaro was always so over cautious.

[hope]

Eavar gave the dragon rider a long hard look. There was no secret about how often Eavar himself had stood for a hatching. He very much wanted to smack the rider upside the head. If he had a dragon to take care of he wouldn't be complaining about how he had to take care of it. But of course, saying something like that would be out of place wouldn't it... So, for once, Eavar bit his tongue, hard. That was probably half the reason his concentration slipped and the needle caught his finger. His tongue hurt more than his finger... but his tongue wasn't bleeding. Eavar's cheeks flushed with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment when Kiaro Jumped to ask if he was alright.

"I'm fine..." Eaver murmured through sucking on his finger. There was an unmistakable tone of annoyance. He waved his free hand dismissively in Kiaro's direction. "Do you jump at every little thing?" Eaver rolled his eyes and shifted a bit so that his back was more facing the group, then he picked up his knitting and started again. Eavar really was an excellent knitter... a rather useless thing to be good at if you asked him. But secretly, he took pride in his workmanship. He'd always been a perfectionist like that. "Why don't you pay attention to what you're doing and I'll pay attention to my own business."

[zeis]

Baharl was about to do something very foolish. Fun, yes, crazily so, but foolish nonetheless. Shards, it had been turns since she had done this. But Dalibor was her new home, and she was getting a new start. Besides, she didn't have a Wher just yet, so she figured she might as well get all her recklessness out of the way before her life was no longer her own. She and her late mother used to do this foolish thing every winter season at High Reaches Weyr, and her father had grumbled and muttered about it then. Iverna had told her breathless and laughing about having done the very same with Baharl's grandmother and uncle when she had been just a girl. Even though her mother was gone, Baharl had taken to keeping their ridiculous family tradition alive. Every winter, come snow or shine.

And so it was that this relatively short dread-locked girl ambled decisively toward the Weyr Lake from her room in the Candidates Barracks, dressed in a near suffocating winter coat and scarf, which from the way she was rubbing her arms did not seem to be keeping her warm at all, and a monstrous pair of winter boots. In her arms were warm winter clothes, and a number of large neatly folded cloth towels she had nicked. Other than these, she wore a grin against the cold winter wind, which seemed unaffected by the seasonal chill. Oh yes, this would be fun in deed.

The girl approached the lake a good distance away from where, for whatever reason, other people seemed to be congregating near the bank. She looked over at them and lifted a gloved hand to give them a playful little wave, and a grin, though they probably couldn't see that. Her icy blue eyes turned upon the lake itself, and the spot she had chosen from a number of others. From seemingly offhand questions to other Candidates and youths in the Dining Hall, she had learned that this particular spot was deepest closest to shore. Which was perfect, absolutely perfect.

"Now or never." She said with a nod, and began to disrobe on the grass. The girl pulled off her scarf and gloves and tossed them casually behind her. She undid the clasps on her coat and dropped it, revealing clothes that could not have kept a dray-beast warm in this weather, and a form that perhaps had eaten just a few too many pastries. "Sh-sh-sh-shards!" The girl shivered and laughed, and awkwardly started taking off her boots while hopping on either foot. Nearly tripping she got the last boot off, and half ran half stumbled into the freezing lake water.

"By heaven, that is sharding COLD! Cold! Cold! Cold!" Baharl shrieked as the shallow water washed icily over her feet, sending goosebumps up her legs. However, she soldiered on deeper, and with another final laughing shriek she stepped off the shelf of land into the deep. Her head dipped below the surface, and for a few seconds she was submerged with her eyes closed in an icy darkness that at first pained her, and then numbed away slightly. This really was something she had looked forward to every year with her mother. The anticipation of the cold, the sheer drive it took to continue deeper and submerge, and the satisfaction of braving and enjoying something that most people either did not or didn't want to experience. It was a stupid thing to do yes, but in her opinion it was a stupidly brave thing to do. Not to mention fun.

She kicked her legs and resurfaced with a gasp, her dreads hanging over her face and making her appear at first like some comical water-weed monster. Treading water, she took a breath and dunked her head backward to slick her hair back, and turned her gleaming joyful eyes up at the winter sky, squinting against the biting wind. Sure, getting in was a challenge, but getting out was even more of one. The wind was bitterly cold on her wet face as she began swimming leisurely to the lake-shore. She might get sick, but the snuffles and sneezing that typically followed this tradition was a small price to pay for the thrill.

[arratra]

A'tra shook his head irritably. He wasn't complaining about caring for Avartiath; he actually enjoyed that. What he was complaining about was how hard the splint made the job, as, although he was ambidextrous, he somewhat favoured his right hand, and using the scrubbing brush in his left felt odd and was clumsy.
"We make quite the dysfunctional group, don't we?" he said after a moment's contemplation, laughing slightly. He sobered suddenly, wincing.
It was not from physical pain; that had long since ceased. It was the wound in his heart that still bled.
"Mother, Father," he murmured under his breath, "Where are you?"

[aikastarr]

”Oh. Okay, then,” Krysthanine replied, letting her gaze sweep across the landscape. She had just vaguely been paying attention to the comment, for her attention was grabbed by the Rider with the broken bones and the other Candidate that walked over. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place a finger on it. Then, at the mention of Eavar’s name, it clicked in her mind. ”Oh! I know you! You’re the Candidate people talk about! I’m Krysthanine, in case you didn’t know,” she piped in, holding her hand out. She faltered, watching as he began to knit, then proceed to jab out with cruel remarks, then stab his finger with a needle. Maybe talking to him wouldn’t be such a good idea, she thought, withdrawing her hand.

Her eyes caught the figure of a girl stripping down to summer wear, then plummeting into the crystal waters. She giggled, wondering if she should do the same. When the girl resurfaced, she stood up to trot to the edge. ”Hey, that looks like fun! Is it?” she called, the wind snatching her words and hurling them towards the newcomer. She remembered seeing the female at the giveaway of sweets. She’s nutty. Which makes her cool in my book! she thought while walking over to where the other girl was probably going to drag herself out of the water.

What possessed her to jump into the water? Why was she smiling in the cold? Is there some form of pleasure in the experience? These thoughts raced through her mind, as well as whether or not she should follow suit. She cocked her head, watching the girl lazily swim through the smooth waves.

[zeis]

Baharl paddled the short distance to where the bank shelf rose up steeply out of the depths, and she was about to step up on it when a voice reached her from further down the shore. She turned to look and saw Krysthanine, who appeared vaguely familiar but in a way she couldn't place. It was probably likely she'd seen her around on her morning walks. She offered a friendly smile, and a slightly floundering wave that made her lose her tentative purchase on the muddy bank and sink back into the deep. The young woman resurfaced seconds later and started a coughing fit that turned into laughter. She dragged herself up back into the shallows and waded back so shore shivering.

"Y-y-you b-bet its f-fun." She stuttered breathlessly, as she stepped out of the water and back onto dry sand and grass. Just as she predicted, the wind blowing on her now was much worse than the water had been at first. She wrapped her arms around herself, and hastily made her way past the other girl toward her waiting dry towels and clothes."B-b-better than k-klah in the m-morning if you can take the sh-sharding cold."

With that said, Baharl began drying herself off roughly. The last step including throwing the cloth over her head and rubbing it wildly over her sopping dread-locked hair. The end result was a dry, if very goose-bumped Baharl, with a head full of hair that looked as if she had been struck by lightning, or perhaps blown dry by a Bronze dragon. She offered the other girl a slightly manic looking grin, given her current state, and thrust out a slightly shivering hand. "Baharl."

[hope]

”Oh! I know you! You’re the Candidate people talk about!"

Eavar lifted a brow and solemnly swung his dark gaze in the direction of the chittering female. "I suppose I'd rather be the one they talk about than the one no one does..." That wasn't true. Being known as the longest standing candidate in a weyr wasn't exactly something anyone wanted to be known for. He scowled, making sure she took note of his icy glare before he returned to his knitting. Eavar didn't like the happy, flighty girls... Eavar rarely liked anyone though. For someone so lonely, you'd think he'd try harder to get to know others. The dragon candidate was more than happy to lose his thoughts in his knitting, but a sudden splash of water caught his attention. He dropped the needles in his lap and let his jaw drop slack as he watched an apparently brainless girl wander quickly in to the lake. It must have been close to freezing... a fact which the girl announced in stuttering clarity.

"What... did you think it would be heated?" Eavar quirked a brow showing a rare, if sly and sarcastic smirk. The girl was unfamiliar to him, so he tread carefully. "I doubt Klah in the morning is likely to give you the same risk of sickness." Eavar plucked up his knitting needles once more and set to work. "Some people say that those with such a careless self abandon have the capacity to make a name for themselves." What was that? A compliment? Surely not! "I think they just die young and stupid in a frivolous way."

So much for that compliment...

[zeis]

Baharl was in the middle of redressing her still chilled to the bone self when Eavar spoke. Her icy blue eyes slid from her task to take him into account. He looked vaguely familiar, and she thought that maybe she had seen him around the Dining Hall or perhaps the Candidates Barracks... She didn't believe she ever spoke with him before though. She offered him a friendly little smile, and was about to introduce herself when he finished his last comment. Her thick eyebrows shot up, and that smile broke into a toothy grin. This boy had a little fire in him, didn't he? Well, so did she.

"Well, what is stupid for one man is a thrill for another." She commented with a strange little wink, as she went about refastening the buttons on her thick winter coat. Truth be told also, she really wasn't worried about getting sick. The sniffles and sneezing that followed her annual plunge were well worth what she got out of it. It was just like having sore muscles after exercising really, no pain no gain. The girl paused with the top button and gave the strange boy a long considering look, her eyes lingering on his current knitting endeavor. "I'm sure you'll die old and wise though, if you keep that up." Baharl was about to leave it at that when she noticed the wound on Eavar's hand, and she added with a short barking laugh. "Or maybe not."