L1: Selenitas Candidates

[Ruby]

Armind - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Canith - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Casandra - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Casiloy - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Ivy - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Kaius - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Priya - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Rosanna - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Tavis - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
Vellani - 1 2 3 4 5 Special
colored numbers mean you have completed this lesson. struck out numbers mean you completed the lesson previously, and do not have to repeat unless you choose to.

"You're late," the diminutive Candidatemaster said, addressing the class as a whole. They'd all trailed in approximately near the class' start time, some more 'on time' than others. Rukbat was only just cresting the horizon, of course, and most of them would have been used to sleeping in at least another candlemark or two. Getting up so early must have been a nasty shock, if nothing else. Then again, Elisabeta figured she was up, and she'd wanted to start on time so they could get this over with as soon as possible. "Next time, I expect all of you to be not only present when lessons begin but alert, put together, and in possession of a slate and stylus. Thread doesn't wait because you wanted five more minutes of sleep, nor does battle. Starting today, you've all doubled your chore requirements for the week. Maybe having less free time will send you to bed earlier."

Crossing her arms behind her back, the greenrider paced back and forth in front of Farryl, lecturing. "I am your Candidatemaster, Elisabeta of Rakmaninoth. This is your Assistant Candidatemaster, Farryl of Peppeth. I suggest taking questions to her, as I am rarely tolerant of stupidity." She fixed one candidate (chosen at random) with a look that said 'yes, that means you'. "We will both hold office hours for one hour after lessons each day. I am supposed to go over rules; you'll find them posted in the Candidate Barracks. Familiarize yourself with them. 'I didn't know' is not an excuse. The same goes for respecting your betters; it is far better to err on the side of formality. I expect to be addressed as Candidatemaster, you can figure out the rest on your own."

Turning out to face the class, the Greenrider said, "We'll start with a light jog to familiarize you with the Weyr. One of the most important parts of being a Dragonrider is teamwork, so we'll be running in step. When we start, make sure you step with the same foot the person in front of you steps with. Eventually, I will tell you to rotate, and the person in front will drop to the back, giving us a new leader. Farryl? Take the front. I'll bring up the rear." That way, she could see who was slowest, who needed help with their teamwork, that sort of thing. She'd stay at the back the whole time, watching people catch the steps again in front of her when they joined the back of the line. "Go!"

[Sebz]

(Whoot! Yay for obnoxious candidates!)

If he was honest with himself, Casiloy knew that he was one of the late ones the candidate master had been talking about, so he really couldn't complain when the lot of them were assigned extra chores. Didn't mean he had to like it. There had been a semi-legitimate reason for his lateness. Casiloy had been busy keeping his brown salamandyr, Casiloy, off him. The stupid mandyr didn't seem to like him all that much, or at least had a hell of a lot of fun annoying the crap out of him. The little brown had been very pleased with himself, figuring out how to replicate the snoring that his produced when he was asleep. So, naturally, the brown had thrown a fit when his was not impressed by his antics.


The brown's fits tended to include scurrying under his clothes and generally just making a nusence of himself while shouting unitelligble things at the top of his little lungs. It had taken the better part of an hour for the candidate to peal his pet off him. Something told Casiloy, it would not be a smart idea to show up for the first day of lessons with a pet he wasn't even technically supposed to have.

Dumb mandyr.

Casiloy didn't really know what to make of Elisabeta. Weren't candidate masters supposed to be, well, not total asshats? Well this would defiantly be so much fun. Whatever. Sure.

Running. Ok, so maybe this would be better than he had predicted. Casiloy absolutely loved running. And even better, he had come prepared in a long, flowing skirt. Much easier to run in than irksome pants. With a smile, he started jogging on command, only giving a glance to one of the candidates who, to his surprised, actually looked a lot like him. She didn't seem to have any intention of running. Casiloy would have been amused, but her refusal would probably lead to more punishments being handed out to the entire group.

Casiloy liked to make a good impression on people, and this wasn't any different. He liked it when people liked him, and was distraught when they didn't. He would show Elisabeta and Farryl that he was, on a scale of 1 to amazing, he in fact surpassed amazing and reached a new, better rank that could only be called "Casiloy"

***

Casandra was not late thank you very much. She had been on time, probably because she had found out that the two riders who had searched her were to be the candidate masters, and she really didn't want to give them an excuse for getting angry at her. She had not made the best impression of herself at their first meeting.

Extra chores? Yea right, Casandra scoffed at the notion. She hadn't lifted a finger at the hold and she was not about to start here. More than likely, she would just ensnare one of the helpless males with her charm and make them do it for her. Surely one of them was susceptible to seduction.

Instead of paying attention to Elisabeta, beacuse lets face it, she had better things to do, she surveyed her fellow candidates. They seemed quite normal, which was boring by definition. Well not all of them, there was one queer blonde boy who was wearing a skirt. Ok, different strokes for different fokes. He could wear what he wanted, that wouldn't bother her, but she secretly was hoping it would piss Elisabeta off to no end.

When Elisabeta mentioned running, Casandra smirked. That was so not happening. She folded her arms smartly across her chest, and just stared at the candidate masters, daring them to try and make her get up. Who knows, maybe some of the others wouldn't want to run either. She could very well be the leader of a candidate revolution. Yes, that sounded like a good plan to Casandra.

[Rowana]

Farryl stood back to one side and watched the Candidates arrive. She stood relaxed, though inside she was tense. This was the first lesson with Elisabeta as Candidate Master. Though Farryl was partly glad she would be here to offer Candidates at least one understanding ear, she was equally sure she would rather spend less time with her fellow Searchrider than more. Still, at least she didn't have to do much beyond watch, answer questions, and whatever Elisabeta wanted for demonstrations.

Farryl stayed quiet, hands behind her back, as Elisabeta spoke. She agreed with much of what she said. Tardiness really was a bad habit for a dragonrider. Still, she couldn't help feeling the punishment might be a little too much for a first day. Farryl had a feeling several Candidates were going to be pretty grumpy over the next few days. When she was introduced, Farryl gave a smile and a small wave to the assembly. No need for the group to feel like they couldn't talk to her either. Honestly, Farryl didn't know much about teaching Candidates, being barely older than most of them, but at least she did enjoy Searching them. That had to count for something.

Nodding at Elisabeta, Farryl started out of the room at a light trot. "Step lively. This way," she called in what she hoped was a more cheerful voice than she felt. She set a fairly easy jogging pace to start with so that the Candidates shouldn't have any trouble matching their pace to hers. As the run went on, however, they would have to adjust to each other's different speeds and strides. It was all part of working together as a team.

((Note for Candidates: I'm not a thread leader, so you don't have to wait for me to post again, only for Ruby. ^_^))

[Requiem]

There were only two thoughts going through Armind's head right at that moment. The first was, naturally, that there were way too many cooties in this room. Nevermind the Cootie currently clinging to his back between his shoulderblades beneath his shirt. Now that green was biding her time - while etching little patterns in his skin with her tiny claws - waiting for her moment to pounce. The boy was keeping up an almost absentminded stream of thoughts about how much she wouldn't surprise anyone right now. They were giving everyone the fish eye just waiting for something untoward to happen.

No, the cooties Armind was mentally referring to was the extremely uneven ratio of males to females. Six girls and two more girls for candidatemasters against three boys and one thing nearly completely cootified already (he/she/it must have been here long enough to suffer the consequences) was not a good sign. And anyway, one of the boys looked like he was going the cootied direction as well. It just plain wasn't fair. He didn't want to be a girl!

Speaking of unfair, the youngest of the candidates scrunched up his face in clear displeasure at this more chores thing. What was it with everyone wanting to give him more chores?! The drudges already did that. And for no reason either. They didn't know he was the one who had stolen the laundry pins. (An act of expert theft if he said so himself.)

Much as he didn't like that, he really didn't like this run. Armind snorted and crossed his arms, glaring daggers at Elisabeta. "I am not running with a bunch of girls who will only sweat cooties on me." He didn't mention his certainty that his tiny legs couldn't keep up with those of all these teenagers. (Of course, Armind was a teenager technically too, but only just, and he wasn't even five foot. Most 13 turn old boys weren't.) No, Armind definitely wouldn't be outrun by a bunch of girls. It was the cooties. Yes.

[Ivy]

Of course they were all late, did the Candidatemaster not notice it was barely light out?! Glowering, the usually happy woman definitely looked anything but as she glanced around and then back to the two leaders of this merry band of unfortunate souls. Why had they picked so many girls?! And the few boys the Searchriders had brought for this group were either too young or too... strange. Was that one wearing a skirt? Yeah... he was.

Ivy sighed as she realized this wouldn't be like it had been when Ka'aen had been the Candidatemaster. Why he had decided to resign was beyond her. She thought he did an excellent job, and he certainly didn't act like he had something shoved up his arse like Elisabeta was. Still, Ivy knew she'd have to endure whatever the Candidatemaster threw at her. Extra chores, already?

For a moment Ivy wondered if the chance at Impressing was really worth all of this. As she eyed Elisabeta and glanced back at Farryl she straightened up a bit. Yes. Yes it was definitely worth it. She couldn't risk messing up, this was the last turn they'd allow her to Stand. She was the oldest Candidate in the group, something that didn't really surprise her. No doubt since she'd already stood before she'd be expected to out perform the others. Oh joy.

Holding back another sigh she fell in behind Farryl and did her best to match the other woman's step. She didn't want to be right in front of Elisabeta so she'd done her best to stay closer to Farryl. Of the two she looked less likely to throw a punch at a disobedient Candidate - where as she could definitely imagine Elisabeta doing something along those lines. She wasn't pleasant at all.

--------------------------------------------

Tavis was indeed late. The last to arrive. He had only shown up because he knew that the blasted woman who'd kidnapped him was the one in charge of the 'Candidates' and she'd told him he was one now. He wasn't too keen on the idea of her bursting into his room and dragging him out - especially since he slept half naked. He glared at her as she started in on the group as a whole, noticing the glance she saved for him whens she mentioned not tolerating stupidity. If he thought he could get away with running up and punching her in the face he probably would have; while Tavis was rarely a violent young man, Elisabeta brought out the worst in him. It probably didn't help that the young man was pretty hormonal, a bit of a late bloomer - his voice had just changed less than two sevenday ago.

He looked around at the other 'Candidates'. At least they didn't look very happy to be there either, though they were probably just upset about the extra chores and early wake up. Idly he wondered if any of them had been Searched against their will. Sure he'd wanted to get to the Weyr - he'd already spent a turn journeying from Lighttower to Selenitas Hold and was working in the stables to earn marks so he could get safe passage to the Weyr - but he didn't want to be a dragonrider, nor did he even want to be considered to be one! He knew what that lot was, thank you very much, full of immoral people who went around planting their seed in young women and then leaving them with an illegitimate child to raise on their own. That was NOT going to be him. The fact that one of them even thought he might have 'what it takes' to be a dragonrider was downright offensive to him.

The only, and he very much stressed the only part, good thing to all of this was he got to be in a small group of people around his own age. Something he hadn't had the pleasure of doing for quite a long time. And, to top it off most of them were girls. Tavis wasn't very savvy with the ladies, he hadn't had time while working and prior to his leaving Lighttower he rarely saw and girls his age out and about. So looking at the girls he was practically surrounded by now made the hormonal teenaged boy shift a bit and stand up straighter. He flashed a forced smile - charming still but forced - at one of the girls before his attention was forced back to the Candidatemaster when she mentioned jogging.

Really? Jogging this early? Did she want everyone to hate her? Still, he figured he'd go on his own instead of being dragged around by Elisabeta (again), so he fell in step behind Farryl, watching her feet so he could make his pace match hers.

[Ruby]

"Did I offer you a choice?" Elisabeta asked, fixing first Casandra, then Armind with a distinctly unamused look. She considered adding something about cooties, but if the fool child didn't know there was no such thing yet, he'd know in a year or two. Raising a hand so Farryl would wait a moment before leading the line through the door, she said, "You don't want to run, is that it? Too sweaty, too hard, you don't feel like it, perhaps? Alright."

She headed towards the door, glancing back to see if the two were following. "Coming? You said you didn't want to run right now, so you can help me oil Rakmaninoth first. I hope you brought gloves... no? Well, you'll just have to be very careful of Rakmaninoth's claws, then. They're quite sharp, and she tends to be restless. Then you can catch up to the class, and we'll do the run I originally suggested. Of course, you'll be sending your classmates off to run probably twice, three times as far as originally scheduled. I'm sure they'll love that; in fact, they might even want to thank you later tonight, perhaps while I'm at dinner." No, Elisabeta was absolutely not above using threats and social shaming to get these kids to listen.

Hands on hips, the Greenrider leveled her gaze at the two wayward children once again. "No one sits on their behind in a Weyr. No one gets away with not doing what they're told. In battle, a dragon will flame you whether you want ash in your pretty hair or not. I am here to prepare you for battle, to prepare you for Thread, and for life as part of a Wing, in hopes that the largest number of you possible will survive if you do Impress. I'm a cakewalk compared to a baby dragon. I'll have no more of this sort of nonsense; is that understood? I will not hesitate to recommend that you be stripped of Candidacy and left to rot if I think you can't handle it."

Turning her back on Armind and Casandra, Elisabeta waved Farryl out, then asked the hallway, "So what is it to be? Are you joining your classmates, or would you like to meet Rakmaninoth?"

[Sebz]

Casandra did not appreciate getting yelled at. That bitch. That asshole. That- Casandra let the insults continue streaming in her head, but never let one of them leave her lips. That would be quite idiotic if she were to voice any of them, Elisabeta seemed quite intimidating right about now.

Go oil your own damn dragon, you tosser.

Thankfully, the blonde had the sense not to say that to Elisabeta, not with the threat of loosing her candidacy hanging over her head. No, she would comply, at least for now. But she would remember this, and Elisabeta would be punished, one way or another. And was there any point in informing the candidate master that she was so very wrong, that Casandra would never take orders from her, a green rider, especially after impressing? No, probably not, but it wouldn't stop the girl from thinking it.

"Fine, I'll run for you candidatemaster," she muttered before turning to Armind, putting on a completely different face, one of encouragement. "Come on, we might as well go," she said, doing a pretty excellent job of acting contrite. Without looking at Elisabeta, Casandra kicked up her heels and ran to catch up with the rest of the group.

***

Casiloy spared a glanced at the two wayward candidates. If they wanted to be Elisabeta's punching bag, fine by him. So he just kept running, concentrating on keeping in step with the others.

(Ok so not much for Cas to do? I think that this is the world records shortest pov eva)

[Requiem]

"You can wash your own sharding green." And no, Armind didn't do the normal semi-intelligent rebellious child thing and mutter it. He said it quite clearly. Some would call it naievety or ignorance. Immaturity would be the better term for it, that and the child had been whipped well and often in the public square of Keroon Hold with no substantial effect on his irreverence except to make him more stubbornly rebellious. Elisabeta did not frighten him. She was just an old crusty lady who liked to make threats, much like the old crusty lady drudges.

Clearly not that intelligent of one, either. Rubbing down a green - and yes, he still was ignoring the existance of Cootie in this evaluation - was much more dangerous to his burgeoning manhood than running with a bunch of girls. Once again, adults simply didn't understand. This was what made them the enemy. Armind glanced at Cassandra when she addressed him and wrinkled up his nose. Everyone always telling him what to do. Psht.

"Whatever," he muttered. Of course, he could refuse everything and remain seated - provided Elisabeta didn't haul him around by an ear like so many of these walking corpse women liked to do - but he did want to Impress. There was the matter of sticking it to his uncle, who hated dragonriders. Why not? After all, the man had made it more than clear that he shared a similar 'affection' for his nephew. Elisabeta did not seem the bluffing sort. (Course she could just not have had her daily bowel movement yet. That always made old people grumpy.)

As the youngest of the candidates stood and moved to fall in at the end of the line, the small boy's mind was not on the feet in front of him or the air moving through his lungs. Even though he somehow (mostly) managed to keep in step in his distraction, his thoughts lingered on ways to unblock the candidatemaster so she wasn't such an intolerable hag. There had to be some sort of herb...force-feeding her a bunch of fruit wasn't really something he was capable of.

Now, Armind was a healthy, active boy, and no stranger to strenuous work if only in the form of his most recent curiosity or source of mischief. But he was also much smaller than most of these. He may not have been the first to flag (some of these girls would tire first) but he did start feeling the strain of practically having to leap to keep up. Sharding running in step thing. Really not fair at all to people with short legs. If they could place their own feet, he'd still have had to match two or three steps to others' one, but at least it would be at a regular stride and not this crazy stretched half-leaping thing.

Oddly enough, the child did it without complaint, even when his breaths started coming particularly harshly and he was drenched in sweat. But one may be sure that such did not bode well for those who had 'wronged' him in this little endeavor. The child was a vengeful one. Quite so.

[Ivy]

The whole group was halted when the two dimglows - a girl and the youngest boy - decided they didn't feel like running. Who cared if they felt like running or not? Were they stupid? If they tried to be rebellious, no doubt Elisabeta would make not only their lives miserable but all the Candidates would feel her wrath. If she had to run more than originally planned because of those two...

Her line of thinking was interrupted when finally they both complied. Thankfully. The frown that furrowed her brow softened as she focused her attention back on Farryl. Just run. Just run, keep in step, and get this over with. That's all she had to do.

It wasn't hard for her to keep up with Farryl, or to make her steps match the other woman's. She glanced to her side to see if whoever was next to her was keeping up - she knew even if she did well, if one of the others messed up they'd all get yelled at. Teamwork and all that jazz.

"Step sooner, you're not doing it right." She offered this advice in a hushed and soft tone. She wasn't trying to be bitchy or bossy - they already had enough of that in the class between Elisabeta and Casandra, thank-you-very-much.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Tavis groaned when they had to wait for the two who felt they were too good to run. Really, being here was painful enough - why were they dragging it out? Maybe while Elisabeta was busy threatening them he could slip out... Idly he wondered how far he'd get before she'd notice and send her Green after him. He flinched a bit at that thought. Claws in his shoulder and possibly torso? No thanks.

So when they were given the okay to go he matched his steps as best he could to Farryl's. The less attention he brought to himself the less likely he was to have to deal with Elisabeta face to face again. No doubt when he failed to Impress she'd regret her decision to drag him here and make him stand as a 'Candidate' anyway.

The only good thing about being in the Weyr was he might get to know more about his father. Maybe he could confront him if he was still here - surely if he punched the brownrider in the face they'd toss him out of the Weyr and he could go back to an honest living in the hold, right?

Distracted by his own thoughts he fell out of step - but the woman next to him was quick to correct him. Glancing over at the woman he felt his cheeks burn a light red as he actually noticed her for the first time. How he hadn't before was surprising - her bright red hair and womanly form were things any man, even a younger one, would probably notice and appreciate.

The blush faded quickly and he gave a curt nod as he corrected his steps so he was once more in step with Farryl and with the woman next to him. "Thanks. Though this whole thing is stupid if you ask me." He replied in an equally hushed tone, not wanting Elisabeta to hear - though she was busy with the two 'rebels' of the group and probably wouldn't notice anyway. Farryl might, but she didn't seem likely to turn around and snap at them then demand they run the length of the Weyr 1000 times for their insolence like the Candidatemaster might. "Tavis, by the way."

[Aftershock]

Cainith sat in the back of the room, having been one of the first to arrive. He had learned early back in the Mining Crafthold that tardiness was not something you should make a habit of... at least not if you didn't enjoy pain. Watching the other Candidates enter the room, he sighed to himself, seeing how he was more than twice the age of many of them. He wasn't sure why he got stuck in the lessons with such children, but if this was his only chance to Impress, he was going to do it. It wasn't like he hadn't done worse to get here in the first place.

Taking a couple bites of the three meatrolls he had absconded from the kitchens on his way to the lesson, all three held in one massive paw, he listened to Elisabeta's lecture, cringing a bit at her mention of "dragonrider". It seemed too much to ask to have the woman treat all the Candidates the same, ignoring the fact that he was much too old to Impress a dragon. He tried to think of terminology she could use that would be more generic, but gave up when Elisabeta explained they would be running this morning. Unfolding his 7'1" frame from the normal-sized chair (he would really have to learn to bring his own chair one of these days), he stretched as well as he could to get the cricks out of his back, and tried to fall in the back of the group, so as not to immediately cause anyone problems trying to keep up with his massive strides.

He shook his head at the young Candidates who at first refused to run, wondering how anyone could be that self-centered, and then began trying to jog in formation... and quickly failed, his long strides nearly running over the Candidate in front of him almost immediately. He slowed himself down, then finally gave up and just began to walk in order to not run over the Candidates in front of him, glancing up at the Candidatemaster as he took another large bite of meatroll and hoping she wouldn't berate him for failing to jog like the rest of the group.

[Ruby]

Elisabeta could practically see the venom behind Blondie's eyes, but she didn't care. She could hate her as much as she wanted - everyone else did, anyway - as long as she didn't waste Elisabeta's time. End of story. She let the girl's tone slide (for now, if she thought she'd get away with that sort of thing next week she was dreadfully mistaken) and let her join the group. One down.

The Boy very nearly got a slap across the mouth, but instead of wasting more time, Elisabeta merely grabbed him by the shoulder as he attempted to join the line. "Next time you utter that sort of obscenity, you'll wash your mouth out with sweetsand. Swearing is the mark of a person who does not have the mental faculties to select an appropriate word, and you do not seem like the kind of child who wants to appear stupid. Consider that instead of opening your mouth, next time." Two down. Time to go.

They rotated well enough - Giant had to slow down, but she didn't mind that he wasn't jogging as long as he stayed in step. Idiot and Chesty were whispering to each other, and Eilsabeta made a note to step up the pace next time. If they had enough breath to whisper, they weren't working hard enough. The rest seemed to be doing well enough, including Skirt. Perhaps she should have Farryl discuss proper athletic wear with the boy. Skirts just weren't practical; never had been, never would be. It was very challenging to straddle a dragon in a skirt. Well, she'd deal with that after class.

The jog was a long one, winding back and forth through the Weyr, passing by or going through all the major areas - Main Hall, Hatching Sands, Infirmary, Wherhandler's Apartments, Weyrling and Rider quarters, and more. By the time they were done, only the dragonriders and the most in-shape Candidates wouldn't need to catch their breaths. Of course, that didn't stop Elisabeta from moving right on into the next part of the lesson. "Mapmaking and spatial relationships are essential skills for the Dragonrider. If you do not work to improve this, you will never be able to go Between reliably, and you will likely end up placing yourself inside a stone wall or something equally dangerous. We'll start today."

Pointing at the Candidates as she named them off, she went on, "Armind and Canith. Tavis and Casandra. Casiloy and Ivy. Farryl has tablets and styluses - each pair should have one. Based on our recent jog, and your knowledge of the Weyr since arriving, work with your partner to construct a map of Selenitas in as much detail as possible. You may use text if you are able, but I would rather see furniture layouts and the like to indicate which room is which. You have half an hour."

[Ivy]

The jog was a long one - the Candidatemaster was doing her best to push all of them to their physical limits. While she wasn't necessarily out of shape, she wasn't exactly in prime shape either. Her chest and back had a throbbing ache to them - she had learned to live with it though, the price of having an above average chest size. So when the jog finally ended she was thankful. Hands on her lower back she straightened up, chest thrusting forward (even more than usual) as she tried to catch her breath.

Elisabeta, however, was in no mood to let them to get their collective wind back. She listened in between heavy breathing to see what task the Candidatemaster had for them now. Probably something next to impossible and overly difficult.

A look of surprise flitted over her features when she said they had to make a map. A map? She'd been here four turns! Of course she could make a map. She didn't even need the help of a partner, though she wasn't going to say that out loud. Catching most of her breath she walked up to Farryl and smiled politely, "May I have a tablet and stylus please?"

When she'd procured the necessary items she turned to see which one was Casiloy - oh boy, was he the one in the skirt? A brief eyeroll was given - one she hoped he wouldn't see - and she made her way over to him. "Hello, Casiloy is it? I am Ivy. I guess we'll be working together?"

---------------------------------------------------
Tavis was a hard worker - or he was prior to coming to the Weyr. He was actually slightly impressed to see how hard the Candidatemaster was pushing them. Maybe his father had been wrong and not everyone in the Weyr was lazy? But then the jog was over and he looked around, seeing most of the others were red faced and very winded. Ah, so most of them probably were lazy. Still, he hadn't been expecting such a long jog. A bit winded, Tavis was among the first to 'recover' from the trip around the Weyr - not that he'd paid all that much attention during it. He did however notice the stables, he'd have to make a trip to them later on after the lesson.

Listening he heard he was paired off with a girl. Figures. And it wasn't even the busty gal he'd been jogging next to - which is what he'd been paying the most attention to out of the corner of his eye. Blame the teenage hormones for that one.

He looked around and groaned when the others started pairing off and it became apparent that his partner was the blonde who hadn't wanted to run. Elisabeta obviously hated him. Obviously. Still he took a deep breath and grabbed the supplies from Farryl then walked over to Casandra, "Name's Tavis, I haven't been here long and truth be told I don't have a great memory..."

Maybe she would surprise him and know every nook and cranny of the Weyr? Maybe... but probably not.

[Aftershock]

As the group wound to a halt, Cainith looked around in amusement at his fellow Candidates. Many of them were nearly half his age, yet here he was, perfectly fine, while many of them seemed barely able to keep to their feet. Admittedly, of course, he HAD ended up walking almost the entire jog... and there was the fact that with his height, he took one step to the two of most of the others. In addition, he was well fit from walking to most of his destinations throughout his entire life, considering that a runner had yet to be born that could bear his nearly quarter-ton weight. He also couldn't help but notice when Ivy stretched her back, though he tried to keep his ogling subtle.

As Elisabeta spoke of Betweening, Cainith scowled a bit and scoffed quietly. Again with the dragonrider-only training? He was beginning to suspect he could have just skipped this lesson and been none the worse for wear... though he had heard that skipping lessons could threaten your Candidate status, so it was probably for the best he was here, waste of his time or not. Walking over to Farryl, he accepted a stylus and tablet, thinking that this task would be ridiculously simple, despite the lack of usefulness to him personally. Spending 6 turns of his life growing up in the Miner Crafterhall, he well knew the intricacies of keeping an eye on your surroundings, and mapmaking. An apprentice miner who had a poor sense of direction, or was unable to make or read maps, eventually ended up never returning from the mines. Sometimes a tunnel would end up opening into an incomplete tunnel with the corpse of a lost apprentice in it... it was a reality of the harsh Miner Crafthall life. Because his size generally meant he was always mining alone (since no one else could fit in the tunnel with him), Cainith was especially adept at direction-finding and map-making, out of necessity.

Taking the stylus in hand, Cainith immediately noticed a problem... as with most items designed for "normal" people, his large hands dwarfed the small writing utensil, which would make writing with it difficult and painful. Having by this point made his way over to his partner, he slapped the boy on the back heartily, while placing the stylus and tablet in the boy's hands/arms. "Well, cub, looks like it's you and me. If you want this done right, just write what I tell you." He then began describing the Weyr in detail, often even including elevation information, though if prompted he did correct or elucidate when he fell back into using a mining-specific term or symbol.

[Sebz]

In truth, Casiloy enjoyed the hard jog very much indeed. Yes, by the end of it he was winded, but he was pleased that he was not gasping for breath. Would all candidate lessons be this fun? He certainly hoped so. As Elisabeta paired them off, he was scanned the gathered candidates, looking for his partner, Ivy wasn't it? His eyes honed in one her as she went and gathered a stylus and tablet. The one with the pretty hair, the read hair. That's what Casiloy would associate with her, possibly forever. Red and Ivy. Red and Green. Yes he could do that.

"Yes, I suppose we will," Casiloy said grinning as he rotated his hips making his skirt swirl around his ankles. It seemed that the blonde candidate was going to partake in one of his favorite games: Let's see how uncomfortable I can make everyone else aroune me. He imediatly pulled her down to the ground so they could sit, being careful not to hurt her, and spread his skirt so it covered both of their legs like a blanket. Not at all awkward.

"Lets see," he mused. "I haven't been at the weyr to long but I think I know the basic layout. How about you Ivy," he asked, refusing to make eye contact and widening his eyes just about as much as they could be widened. Oh yes, Casiloy enjoyed his games.

Casandra didn't even bother to look around for her partner as the names were called out. Surprisingly, she was not the most out of shape of the lot, which was odd considering her aversion to anything that might get her glistening. Thats right, glistening. Casandra did not sweat. Sweating was for lower beings, not her. She sat down, lazilly motioning for her partner to "come hither" because she was certainly not going to bother going to him.

"Nice to meet you Tarvis," she said nueatrally. After considering his statement she shrugged. "Neither me. I don't know much of the main layout, but I could draw a lot of the private weyrs if you want." The blonde smirked, she knew her way around quite of a few of the dragonriders private weyrs- she had become a frequent visitor to many.

[Requiem]

Unimpressed by the swearing speech. Generally unimpressed with old crusty lady. (He'd heard all this crap before, after all, and it hadn't changed his behavior then. Why should it now?) At any rate, he hadn't given her lip back for the simple reason that running required breath. It was more difficult in equal measure for Armind as it was easier for Cainith. By the end of their long jog, in shape and young or not, the boy was lathered. He flopped down unceremoniously on his back and simply breathed.

Well, breathed and settled a glare on Elisabeta. This was really not fun at all. He didn't mind running about, but this in step stuff was just stupid. Aging swiss-cheese brain didn't get that such a huge difference in size between candidates made that a Bad Idea. Glaring at her probably wouldn't change that any but one could only hope. Glares had been known to be pretty useful in the past from time to time.

Wasn't going to stop the torture, now was she? Armind eyed Giant Old Guy a bit suspiciously for a moment as he picked himself up off the ground and ran a hand through dampened curls. Clearly should have been watching him even closer. As it was, Cootie barely had enough time to scurry around to the front of him (still beneath his shirt) to avoid the mandyr- crushing slap that sent Armind right back down to the ground. Forearms struck earth and he lashed out with a no-punches-pulled kick to the ankle. Which Cainith likely felt no more than a pinprick. "Imbecile," he grumbled, snatching away stylus and tablet and gathering himself into a seated position.

Armind actually paid attention to Cainith, but his drawing skills sucked. That and he only drew what the other candidate told him insofar as he agreed, generally ignoring all the extra unimportant stuff. Elevation? Wall density? Area of a tunnel? Give him a break. She said map, not blueprints. The child had been here quite long enough to discover through exploring most of the weyr, and his memory was pretty good. Kids hadn't filled their heads with so much junk yet that they started forgetting things left and right.