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

Elsewhere on Pern
NPC Weyr
River Bluff Weyr
Seacraft Hall

Story Listing
Series Listing

Weyrling Training

Writers: Stasha
Date Posted: 16th April 2008

Characters: Alasha, K'sper
Description: Alasha decides to make a scarf for K'sper
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 9, day 3 of Turn 4

Her father had left in the early morning, passing mindfully through the living room that Alasha, Hedona and Nelaso rested in. A'berso was careful, as he stepped passed Nelaso and around his daughter and her sister, but while Nelaso and Hedona were truly asleep Alasha was awake only feigning her dormancy. The rest of his family arose shortly after A'berso departed on Muroth. They were insistent that Alasha remain in bed, though she was persistent that she was okay. "But the healer said you needed to take a day of rest" her mother pressed on her daughter.
Alasha felt fine, she could help down below with threadfall and they could use her help, but she obeyed her mother.

Once the three of them departed for the weyrbowl Alasha snuck out of bed and stepped to the weyr ledge. The air flew around her as the snow began to trickle down. Thread would fall soon, but Alasha knew that like clock work the flights of dragons would meet the enemy. The wings were gathering now, the battalion of warriors and their beasts. Alasha recalled those days when she was on the run to Dragonsfall. She watched the falls, all of them, between Amber Hills Hold and Dragonsfall, every single one of them. Why, she did not know why. A devote sense of loyalty, dedication, amusement perhaps? Or maybe it was her own longing, her longing to be with them, to be one of them.
She let out a sigh that Zephyr mimicked with her. It was a beautiful sight, and she would watch diligently, she had no doubt, but she decided she would take her time and put it to good use.

She returned back to her father's weyr with her mind gathering an idea. She found a large ball of yarn that she kept in one of her father's storage drawers along with a crochet hook. It was a hobby that she loved, and was one that A'berso encouraged, while Desamin over looked it. She always enjoyed crafting small trinkets like hats and gloves for her brothers, and her father. Scarves were ease too.
She could crochet, but her skills were simple, basic, and could never pass in a craft. But as she held the threads in her hand she measured ideas that began to filter through her mind.

A scarf? Hmmm, a scarf...

She clicked her tongue against her teeth as she paced around the room twiddling the thick hook in her hand. Her hands needed to do something, needed something to occupy them. Maybe a scarf, a rounded one, like a sleeve so it would be thick and warm, but how long? She stuck her arm out attempting to measure out with her eyes how long she would make it. Two weaver lengths? No, it was not long enough. Three?
Four maybe? So after it wrapped thickly around the neck it could hang to the waist. She glanced back at the yarn, she knew she had several others of the same hue stashed away with the rest of her sewing materials. It could be done, but why? Why the sudden urge?

As she stepped back out into Muroth's weyr her eyes rose back to the skies, to the dragons that that gathered there before disappearing /between/ to the battle. During the jump she caught the glimpse of a familiar dark brown hide. Was it Bentith? She wondered, or was it another dragon that shared the same hue? Again her mind flashed back to the feline attack. She wanted to thank K'sper, she almost ached to.
She did not know if he knew just how much she appreciated what he did for her.

A scarf...

Her fingers fondled the burgundy colored yarn as her mind pondered, attempting to draw out the details. She could make a scarf for him.
One that was four weaver lengths long, and funneled. It was not much, but she did not know what else she could do to thank him, for words were just not enough.

~*~

She found a nice place at the edge, a groove to sit down on with a place to set her feet. The gravity pulled on her, and for a moment she felt she would tumble down, but at the same time she loved the heights and fought the fear of falling. It was to beautiful, even in the cold, and snow. Her eyes glanced to the sky. All the readied wings were gone now, but the back ups were preparing for the time when they would rise. She shifted her attention.

The yarn was tricky at first as she wove the first line, but once the lines began to gather together, take form, she began to become lost in her creation. Her hook slipped through the small hole of the previous row before she caught the yarn and pulled it through and looped it together. It was a simple stitch, but it served a purpose. She continued to repeat it until she completed another row, and then she moved on, and then she completed another, and another. She got a hand span into the scarf before the first of the injured jumped out of /between/.

It was a bronze that cried out in agony.

Alasha clung to the rocks around her as she peered over the ledge, and caught a glimpse of humans, which seemed more like insects, running to the injured beast. The gravity pulled her but she held herself back, studying the action. There were several other dragons with the injured bronze who squealed out his pain. She wanted to reach out to the beast, tell him that it was okay. Even Zephyr chattered out, but she knew they could not hear them.

After a few moments of frustration over her helplessness, she shifted her attention back to the scarf looping the yarn through the holes to create another row. She finished enough of it now to wrap it once around her neck. After a few more rows it wrapped twice, three times, four times. Then another dragon came in, while several greens and blues took flight and jumped /between/ replacing those that just jumped returned to the weyr.

Such breath taking creatures! Alasha began to feel herself rise again, just like she did the first time she witnessed threadfall. To fly a dragon! Her heart caught in her throat. She almost felt undeserving, unworthy to be chosen on those sands, but she knew only time would tell the story of her fate.

She calmed herself and shifted her attention again to the scarf.
Another few hand spans completed, allowing it to wrap a fifth time.
That was enough, she thought. Now all she needed were arms that could go to the waist.

~*~

After several candlemarks, Alasha had the majority of the scarf completed. It was long enough for one arm to dangle just passed his waist. All she needed now were a few more rows, some accent and it would be finished.

The dragons were coming in now, the fall was over. Her tension eased as she picked up the scarf, and the yarn. She walked back to the room and found her place on the couch. She gathered her feet onto the couch and laid herself down just in time for her family to walk through the door. A'son knew, Alasha figured, when he gave her a subtle grin. He knew that she had watched the fall, but he said nothing as Murasha sat with her admiring her new scarf.

There was no need to say anything.

Last updated on the April 17th 2008