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| Candidate | *Current* | Stats | Sparkul Weyr | For the first time in his life, the blue-haired rebel was truly surprised when two dragons at the Hatching dashed towards him. One a bronzen color and one a deep brown. A beautiful brown infact. They both tried to knock him over and the blue-haired lad stood there open mouthed. He heard gasps of their emotional conversation untill the rugged brown broke past his larger brother and stared up at Enical with a look that only the two would understand forever: Impression. The brown had truly picked him. Maybe there was no need for rebellion now, he'd fit in without snapping his fingers- a light dawned on the teen and he realized he'd have to apoligize to the bluerider he was so rude too. In a few short minutes, his life had truly changed. The voice of his lifemate rang clear in his head, clearer than the one of the Searcher's blue. Enical, I will defiantely help you. We can still live in a darker weyr though. You knew I wouldn't let that bronze get you. The hatchling brown said as he gazed up into Enical's eyes with resentment at his bronze brother-hatchmate for defying his instincts. Enical smiled and wondered if his hair dye would work on the Sonnelth's hide. Sonnelth, of course. That was his lifemate's name. The name never had to be spoken to be shared among the two. Enical led his brown off to food and promised to himself that he'd always dye his hair= it had become him and he intended to keep that streak for as long as classes would allow. He also wondered if the brown would be able to support tattoos on his delicate wings- but that would have to wait untill Sonnelth was an adult and fully grown. | *Candidate* | Current | Stats | Sparkul Weyr | "Enical? Where are you?" Boy, this sixteen turn teen certianly did a mind of his own. Geez. Why did he always just disappear? It was bad enough he wasn't a runner like the rest of his family, but did he have to be this much of a rebel? He had already refused to have formal craft much to his mother's dismay, what would be do next? A candidate. of all people, shouldn't be acting this way. Immature.
The rider met him and smiled as he told the teen what the blue dragon had just told him. The teen only snarled. "So, what does this have to do with me?" The rider, taken aback, stuttered as the boy's upper lip curled into a nasty smile. The boy's brown eyes gleamed maliciously and the boy turned to go back towards his room deep in the stone Hold. A steel voice came from nowhere and a rare look of surprise crossed the blue-haired rebel's face. Do not address my rider like that. The voice intoned seriously and the rebel's eyes widened. The rider must have been watching the retreating figure and saw that the teen stopped in his tracks, for he glanced up at his blue who smiled smugly down at the rider. Shaking his head, the teen continued on his way sourly and gather up his things to fly back to Sparkul Weyr in anticipation of standing as candidate for their gold's clutch. Doubtless, he'd be asked about the color of his hair and he'd reply smugly, "Why should I tell you? It's a secret." Where, infact, the blue dye is used for clothes back in the WeyrHold and its origin quite common.
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