Who

Naneska

What

Settling into her new digs, doesn't seem to come easily for the seasoned trader, now candidate.

When

It is before dawn of the tenth day of the second month of the seventeenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Candidate Barracks, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 25 May 2019 12:00

 

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My birthday isn’t for another month! Even then, I’ll be only twenty-two!


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Candidate Barracks

Hopes, dreams, and fears are contained in these cramped quarters, full of small cots and smaller trunks; thin ragged curtains barely provide privacy between the bunks, shining patches in the material suggesting one too many mending attempts. The minimal floor space is kept clear of debris and personal possessions, wide enough for a single broad table often used for study in the art of dragon care. It is a cramped space despite it all, when dragoneggs lie upon the Sands: there's no helping the worn surroundings, when use is at an all-time high. Near the entrance, one cubby exists, large enough to contain a bit of luxury for an adult overseer of the candidates, and a desk — for once in reasonable shape — is set to the left of the entrance, conveniently placed for the monitoring of comings and goings.


The candidate barracks had changed since the last time she was a resident… or was it her that had changed? Not that there were all that many candidates yet. And the ones that were, were already forming their little cliques, and she wasn’t sure where she fit in yet, certainly not with the coy young flirts, the one learning the rules of the game. She knew the rules, she played the game. She wasn’t their prey either. She was pretty sure she wasn’t part of the more serious, more mature coterie, the ones oozing with the desperate need to prove this time they were worthy. Perhaps I’dre was right, perhaps she was getting too long in the tooth for this.

My birthday isn’t for another month! Even then, I’ll be only twenty-two!

And twenty-two wasn’t that old was it?

Naneska snorts, rearranging her restless body in the darkness, trying to find a position that would bring her peace, rest. Her wagon, her independence, had also given her a familiar bed for turns, no matter where she found herself. Adjusting to the narrow bunk was going to take time. But there was time right?

What the blazes was I thinking?

The buzz of her last drinks had long since worn off, but sleep was elusive; the little noises of shared residence providing just enough distraction to keep thoughts racing and eyes open. Subject to the rules of candidacy, she couldn’t just go for a wander, discover the magic that the night holds. Too old but still too young to be trusted!

As if I’d break my word! After all that fuss going to Cremla!

She knows the rules of the game.

What she doesn’t know is WHY !? Out of all the half-assed schemes she’d been in, this one seemed particularly… whole-assed.

"You could ask to stand, you know that right?"

I’dre’s voice still echo’s in her restlessness. She hadn’t known. But it turned out to be a relatively simple process. Cremla hadn’t even blinked an eye when she handed over the knot and instructed Naneska to grab her things. As far as the headwoman was concerned, it was a done deal. The settling of her affairs, both personal and business, took little time either, her life’s treasures crated up into a chest, her wagon rented to her uncle. No matter the outcome, Naneska has committed herself to the weyr for an entire turn.

"Mhiruth agrees. For what that’s worth?”

A done deal for what though? That was the sticking point. That was what was keeping her up. Was a dragon freedom? Or was it a very pretty shackle? She’d loved more than her fair share of riders (And it was love, no matter how fleeting), and encountered their dragons more often than not. They didn’t seem to be shackles. They were all brave and enchanting. But their wings of freedom often came at a cost, sometimes deadly.

"Mhiruth agrees…"

That bitter burn of being so close, but not chosen rises once more. All those near misses while accepted still hurt… OH! Naneska’s eyes slam open wider with understanding. OOOHH!! Was this something she wanted after all? Some longing long buried and unexamined? Those few mind-to-mind contacts giving her a glimpse of what it must be like, a soul-sibling forever.

Is that what she wanted?

"…for what that’s worth…”

Was this duty? Or desire?

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