Naysi
:Story::Search::Hatching::Weyrling::<Adult:
:Moon Shadow Weyr::Tripaldi Weyr

The girl slept on the soft bedding of the runner’s stall, curled in a little ball for warmth. The mare, whose name she did not know, stood watch over her. The mare heard the voice of the stable-master giving the boys their morning duties and whickered softly, moving to nudge the girl with her nose. The girl woke slowly, every day it got harder to wake herself on time, her body protesting the lack of sleep and proper nutrition. Then she heard the doors of the barn being pulled open and she was instantly wide awake, aware of the sound of men moving about the barn and no doubt blocking her only paths to not being discovered. Eyes wide she huddled in the shadows at the back of the mare’s stall.

The mare was a sweet thing who treated the girl like her foal and threw a fit every morning when she crept silently from the stall to hide deep in the hay bales piled high in the feed room. The stable hands always came immediately to check on the mare because when they opened the stable doors they would hear her screaming. She would pace the stall restlessly all day and only calm down at night after they’d closed the stables up and the tiny girl returned to spend the night in the warmth of the stall.

The girl sat on the floor of the stall, way back in a corner; knees pulled to her chest. Her breathing ragged she waited, wondering when the men would be there to check on the mare. The mare stood at the door of her stall, head stretched out, watching and waiting for her breakfast. The girl’s stomach grumbled and she winced, not remembering the last time she’d been able to steal a bit of food. Then she tensed even more as she heard the voices approaching through the barn.

“Nelsi’s calm this morning,” remarked one voice and the girl could hear the sound of hay being thrown into the stalls and the horses beginning to munch eagerly.

“Humph,” grunted another voice and some hay landed in the stall next to Nelsi’s. “Maybe the stable master finally decided to breed her to calm her down.”

“Maybe,” replied the first voice and the girl saw him throw hay into Nelsi’s stall. Nelsi whickered happily and began munching. The girl heaved a sigh of relief as the men continued on down the row without even glancing in the stall.

As soon as their voices had faded from hearing she crept to the front of the stall, peering down the rows of stalls in both directions. No one was in sight and she carefully unlatched the stall door and sneaked down the row toward the door to the stables. Today she would have to try to find some food; this morning had been much too close. She would have to make a point to try to eat every day now.

She made it out of the stables without being discovered and managed to make it into the kitchens of the hold. She had long since forgotten the name of the hold and even her own name. She clung to the runner’s name, Nelsi, as the only name she knew. She vowed to remember it as she hid beneath a counter in the kitchen. She smelled of horses and dirt and before long the kitchen staff was searching for the source of the smell. The girl knocked the table she was under in her fear and the cook screamed, dropping a tray of hot rolls onto the floor. The girl snaked out her tiny hands and managed to grab two of the rolls before she scampered from the kitchen leaving chaos with cooks yelling of ghosts under the tables.

The girl sneaked back into the barn, crawling deep into the hay bales where she devoured one roll and tucked the other one in a large dirty pocket for later. She could not believe her luck and was so exhausted from the stresses of the day that she soon fell asleep.

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