First Impressions
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Corrin, Sia
Date Posted: 1st November 2024
Series: From Hold to Weyr
Characters: Sybana, Nosarre
Description: Sybana arrived at the weyr to assume candidacy. It's rough going as she and weyrborn Nosarre instantly clash.
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 3, day 8 of Turn 12
Sybana’s first day at the weyr was not going well. She had spent an embarrassingly long time standing in the Weyrbowl, where the Searchrider left her, before realizing no one was coming to help with her luggage. She couldn’t just _leave_ her trunk there, (everyone knew weyrfolk were only slightly better than holdless when it came to respecting property), so she had laboriously dragged it to her meeting with the Headwoman-- where she was blithely informed that she wouldn’t have room in the candidate barracks for all her things anyway. She thought she had packed light!
It was nearly dinner by the time she had repacked her essentials into a borrowed satchel and seen the rest off to the storerooms. Feeling much lighter and vaguely bereft, she finally made her way to the candidate barracks where she set about looking for an open bed. It was difficult to tell, since some beds were neatly made, so she checked the footlockers as she went down the row.
Nosarre watched but did not offer to help. Her brown eyes followed this new girl from where she reclined in a chair, long legs flowing out from under her. She was running a cloth over Wrentley's coppery hide, buffing the firelizard into a handsome shine. Eventually the amusement turned to boredom, and she called out to the bumpkin, "Shells, which tuber caravan dropped you off here?"
Sybana was much too wellbred to shriek, but she did gasp sharply when a voice cut through the silence. She whirled about to find the speaker lounging in the shadows at the end of the hall… stroking a firelizard. Ridiculous. Like a picture out of a trashy serial. “Tuber caravan?” Incredulous, she echoed the offending words with an icy bite. What an impossible mistake to make. Who was this girl to bait her? “What a fanciful idea you must have of holdlife, if you think a caravaner can afford an _inch_ of this embroidery.”
"Oh, please. Your gather best isn't fooling anyone." Nosarre said with a laugh. "Are you going to show up for chores looking like that? We could use a good laugh around here. Where exactly did the Searchrider find you, poor thing?"
Sybana straightened, eyes narrowing as she fought down a wave of irritation. She had been warned that life at the weyr was rougher, but she hadn’t anticipated such open hostility. "'Gather best' is a term for people with only one set of good clothes. And these are just travel togs. I don't know why you should be so bothered." Frustrated by this exchange Sybana checked the next two footlockers in quick succession, closing each a little more forcefully than required. "I'm Sybana of Skyvale Hold, if you _must_ know. Daughter of Holder Daryngad. I'd ask who _you_ are, but I suppose you're just another bastard of the weyr. It shows.”
Nosarre tsked and gave another shake of her head. She wondered with no little amusement about whether this little thing had packed any pants or knew how to wash dishes. She almost regretted that they wouldn't be assigned anywhere together, but the thought of watching her struggle to run laps across the weyrbowl would have to do. "A bastard of the Weyr is leagues better than any sad holder bloodline. My father is Weyrsecond M'kayre, at any rate."
“I'm sure that's what your mother says.”
Nosarre laughed. "She does."
How aggravating. Sybana had expected at least one of her barbs to sting, but the weyrbrat seemed completely unfazed. If anything, she was enjoying this exchange far too much. The only way to win then would be not to play. Luckily she had finally found an empty footlocker. She threw her satchel in and slammed it shut.
Straightening, she brushed an invisible speck of dust from her embroidered sleeve, expression cool and composed again despite the heat of her frustration. “Well. It’s good she’s proud of something, because it certainly can’t be your manners. _I’m_ going to dinner. Enjoy skulking with your lizard. I suppose it’s the only thing around here that tolerates you.”
Nosarre raised her eyebrow. She let Sybana's parting shot hang in the air for a moment. "Oh, Wrentley tolerates me just fine." She leaned forwards slightly, her eyes glinting with challenge, "Good luck, Lady Skyvale. You'll need it. Weyrs chew up delicate holders like you."
Sybana had no intention of being chewed up, and that included not sticking around for any further abuse. She was already out the door.
Last updated on the November 9th 2024
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