Childhood [Weyr] [Stats] [Childhood] [Candidacy] [Hatchling] [Weyrling] [Adult] [Ryslen Weyr] "He's going to need a foster-mother," The young lower-caverns worker said as she cradeled the young baby softly in her arms.  He stared up at her silently, with light brown eyes that were like many baby's; kind, large, and full of wonderment. "Well, Naprisla, are you interested in doing it yourself?" The young holdless woman asked her, looking at her baby, the child that she knew so well, but would never really know.  "I mean, I obviously can't keep him.  What am I supposed to do with a baby?  I'm not about to be one of those women in the trader caravan that goes and has to hide their children in holes during Threadfall.  Anyway, you've wanted a child forever, haven't you?" This last scentence convinced the young worker, if nothing else had.  She would of loved a child; however, she'd already miscarried several times, and wasn't about to let this one, precious chance slip between her fingers.  "Yes, I will." "Well, Naprisla, you get to name him, as well.  I didn't want to give him a name that you'd hate," The holdless laughed, turning out of the Weyr and mounting on her gelding, riding off without a thought for the babe that was left in the young woman's arms. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "A Searchrider, Pansiral!  A Searchrider!  For another Weyr!" Sankil yelled to his younger foster-brother as the blue dragon gently set down in the WeyrBowl.  Several of the other blues, browns, and bronzes bugled to the blue, who made no reply, just sat calmly as his rider dismounted.  The young woman walked quickly over to the Weyrwoman, and they spoke in hushed tones, causing Pansiral to crane his neck, trying to listen to the conversation. "What do you think that they're saying, Sankil?" Pansiral asked anxiously, trying not to expolode with excitement.  "I mean, I know that they're talking about Candidates and everything, but I still can't help but wonder what.  Not to mention I don't know why I'm excited; I have had plenty of chances to stand for Candidacy." "Who cares?" Sankil asked, watching as the young woman and the Weyrwoman nodded a few times in their direction.  Not too long after, the young bluerider introduced herself as Corellia, and informed Sankil that he'd been Searched. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Pansiral, get back in here this moment!" Naprisla called after her fosterling.  He'd changed so much since that day fourteen Turns ago.  Could it of been that long?  After changing her name around to create another one for the baby, Naprisla had wondered if anything else of him was like her.  She, for one, was a daredevil to say the least, and could hold a grudge as easily as a firelizard takes to the air.  She had to think about things to come up with an answer.  Pansiral, though, had grown up to be kind, forgiving, and had a sharp mind that was often overshadowed by his perpetually friendly nature.  The strangest thing was, though, he was a pessimist through and through, and could never seem to find the good side of something. "Coming!" He called back, giving the gelding he was grooming one last good swipe with the cloth before coming back.  "What is it?" "You did know that..." Naprisla hesitated, hoping that Pansiral wouldn't take offense to what she was saying.  For the past two Turns, she'd been trying to convince him to stand Candidate for at least one clutch, and as this Litayth's last clutch, it might be a good idea for him to try. "Yes, Nap," He replied, using his pet name for his foster-mother.  "It's Litayth's last clutch.  Probably.  And anyway, after Sankil got Searched for another Weyr, I've been thinking that I ought to try.  I'm not about to let him get ahead of me!"  He laughed softly, and Naprisla's face softened.  Sankil had been her second fosterling, brought to her at the age of seven whenever Pansiral was five.  The two had been insepirable, although they had a deep-running competition, as well.  "I thought so," She replied, the lines momentarily fading from her face, and she was once again replaced by the young woman whom Pansiral remembered from his childhood.  "When do you think that you'll be moving into your new weyr?" "Whenever...  I really don't know," He replied sheepishly, and Naprisla smiled.  "Well, then, I suppose that we should go and inform the Weyrlingmaster, eh?" She asked, and Pansiral nodded, following her to where a new chance awaited him, and he was surprised that he hand't taken that chance before. [Weyr] [Stats] [Childhood] [Candidacy] [Ryslen Weyr]