Thinking Aloud (Fear Chores//Open)

[lex]

So, you can hear me when I say this.

Yes.

“And when I say this?”

Yes, I can. There was distinct amusement in Posilanth’s voice, and it made Casta’s lips twitch.

That’s worth knowing, then. At least she wouldn’t have to sound like a loony when she spoke to her dragon. It was difficult not to speak out loud though, which was one of the reasons why she had chosen to spend today doing her chores in the records room – so few people ever came hear that if she slipped up and began to speak aloud to Posilanth she wouldn’t be overheard by anyone.

I’m sure they’d understand.

That made Casta chuckle. I’m sure they would, dear heart, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be embarrassed![/i] It took a while for Posilanth to mull this over.

It had only been a few scant days since Casta had Impressed, and she was already deeply in love with her dragon. She had never imagined that she would find herself so attached to another creature, and every now and then the sheer force of her emotion scared her – but it was wonderful, all the same. To have this creature – this wonderful, beautiful creature – as her constant friend was something she would always marvel at. She was continually finding out new things, and working out exactly how much her dragon knew about her. For instance, Posilanth could answer any question about Casta’s personality, her likes and dislikes, but had to be told her history. Stories of Benden could keep her entertained for hours, as the green had a powerful curiosity about anything she hadn’t seen or heard.

Casta picked up yet another roll of hide and used her slightly damp cloth to wipe it free of dust. This was how her day had been spent, and she found it soothing, if dull, work. It also gave her a chance to speak to her dragon, who hated to be separated from her. Was it normal for Posilanth to be so attached? Casta didn’t know – she only knew that the green panicked when she hadn’t been warned that her rider was leaving. Only that morning, Casta had slipped quietly from their weyr to visit the washroom, and had been surprised at the level of Posilanth’s fear when the dragon woke and was unable to find her. It had taken many minutes to calm her down.

Maybe it wasn’t normal for Posilanth to be so skittish, and Casta wondered if she herself was at fault. Had she done something on her first day of Impression which had made the green so attached to her? No, she dismissed that thought: Posilanth had been just as nervous as soon as she had broken shell. Maybe it was something that would improve with time, as the dragon came to realise that nothing could separate the two of them.

What are you thinking about?

“You, of course,” Casta told her with warm affection, unaware that she was speaking aloud. Using just her thoughts was surprisingly difficult for her. “What else?”

[mierce]

Although it wasn't his cup of tea the first time around, Cer'c found himself back in the Records Room for another round of chores. He loved the weyrbrats at the Creche. Really. He could stay there all day telling awesomely great stories. He didn't mind wrestling with them either. Even the verbal (and not-so-verbal) threats from felling weyrlings he could deal with. But Harmonyth was somewhat nervous by the entire very physical encounter, and her nervousness was making him skittish as well. The realization that his emotions and those of his dragon were so tightly intertwined in made him a little concerned (which, in turn only fed the Green's already uneasy emotions).

So today, for both their sakes, Cer'c decided to return to that awfully dusty room. The archivists near the front did not seem pleased to see a young hatchling trailing behind him, but Cer'c insisted that she was be absolutely distressed to be separated. Besides, she's so tiny! It would be perfectly safe! Somehow, the archivists let Harmonyth pass and they settled for dusting one of the stacks.

The Green nudged her muzzle against some old leather scrolls, mildly interested in the peculiar scent it had. What are these made of?

"I du--" Cer'c paused. I dunno, he finished through mindspeak. Herdbeasts, I guess. This was still taking some getting used to. He climbed up a ladder to the top of some heavy shelves to reach the top, and poked so sadly at the rolls before wiping it down with a cloth. This is /so/ boring, he carelessly thought.

Almost immediately, he felt a wave of guilt hit him. I'm sorry Lovemine. Cer'c quickly spun around to look down at Harmonyth, noting her somewhat downcast eyes. Seeing the human hatchlings attack you was just...

"O--" Oh, no no. He slid down the ladder and shuffled over to the green to snuggle against her. She had grown noticeably in the past few days, but was still small even for a Green. It's not because of you. He chuckled softly, earning a slight confused glance from Harmonyth. I--

"You of course. Who else?"

The sudden voice from somewhere nearby cut off Cer'c's thoughts and he looked up. He certainly hadn't heard anyone nearby despite how quiet the room was, but he wasn't exactly paying attention. Exchanging glances with Harmonyth, the two of them got up and wandered towards the general direction of the sound. Rounding a corner, Cer'c spotted Casta. Her back was to him and she wasn't wearing her Candidate robes so he didn't recognize her at first. Buuttt... she was a female which immediately flicked on his super friendly switch.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked teasingly. A super friendly smile was plastered on his lips and his hands were clasped behind his back as he leaned forward slightly.

[Requiem]

"Likely her own special version of a parasite," Dmitri commented dryly from the other end of the aisle, a smile briefly flickering across his face as he nodded to Harmonyth to indicate just what type of parasite he was referring to. No, he hadn't gone to the dragon hatching because R'ven asked him to. Lies, clearly. It was just his thumb on the pulse of weyr gossip that allowed him to recognize the new weyrlings on sight, with or without knots.

The wherling's own collection of knots looped over a slender shoulder, and if you couldn't tell he was a harper by those, the two sets of pipes tucked into his wide belt should be indication enough. In his arms was a veritable mountain of scrolls and leatherbound sheafs, the tall boy shifting his stance to keep one from falling. He managed to get over to a nearby desk before they all tumbled down, poking through them.

His eyes came up, the boy blowing a curl that had escaped the ridiculously long braid out of his face. "I don't suppose either of you can read?" he questioned quietly. It wasn't an offensive question, though some might well take it that way. Few who didn't have harper training or healer training could read well, and a lot of them couldn't at all. It was one of the reasons harpers existed, after all. To bring the histories so many couldn't read to life.

"A lunatic got in here not so long ago, took everything off the shelves. He put 'em back, but they're all out of order and the archivists are collectively having conniption fits. When I volunteered to help, I didn't realize it would involve moving half the archives," he concluded, with a touch of wryness. "I'm sure if you can piece out enough to even have a general idea of what's written to speed up the process, the archivists would be willing to give you a little extra. At the very least, I'd be wiling to treat you two to something come next gather. Weyrlings don't make a lot."

Journeymen harpers, on the other hand, brought in a decent salary, and his wherling class was a hop and a skip away from graduating anyway. Dmitri's eyes flicked briefly to the small green the boy had brought with him, a touch of unease behind them. He did not like dragons by any stretch of the imagination. Dragons and dragonriders, as a general rule, were the creatures he liked least on Pern, but he was gradually getting past that on an individual basis. In general, he still hated them, but R'ven he liked well enough, and it wasn't so bad that he turned his nose up at little hatchlings and brand new weyrlings. (They hadn't learned to become ego-driven, violent idiots yet, after all.)

[lex]

Casta had indeed relinquished her Candidate’s robes, and was now rather hesitantly attempting to dress more like the other Weyrlings. A few sets of tunics and leggings had been left in her new room, but she had balked at such garments – they were men’s clothes, and besides which they were so short. No, she wasn’t ready to wear them yet, although she knew that she would eventually have to work herself up to the idea of a short tunic. For the moment, she had adopted a long dark skirt from the cast-off room, and found a woman’s shirt in pale green which she could tuck into it. Overall, smarter than her plain dresses, but even in these she felt...underdressed. Casta wondered if she would ever get used to wearing anything other than an ankle-length dress and shift.

Why do you care so much about what you wear? Posilanth had asked, curious, as Casta was neatly braiding and coiling her long hair.

Casta had thought for a moment. Because your personal appearance is what people see first,[/b] she had said after a moment. It’s how people judge you before they know you. I don’t want people to think I’m a drudge any more. They weyrling knots at her shoulder would be a big hint, of course, but still…

When she heard Cer’c’s voice behind her, Casta started a little and spun around to see who it was had spoken. Her eyes travelled from him to Harmonyth, and an incredulous smile came to her lips. He had brought her in here? Looking back up at Cer’c, Casta’s smile turned embarrassed. “Was that out loud?” she asked, and sighed with frustration at herself. “It wasn’t meant to be. I was talking to Posilanth.” She would need to work on that.

From the looks of his hatchling, he had Impressed at the same clutch she had. Casta felt a little awkward for a moment – she shared every Benden-bred person’s unesiness concerning male green riders, and still needed to get used to seeing them all over this Weyr. They didn’t stay long in Benden, and were spoken of with such vitriol that Casta had never heard a good word about them. Nothing would make Casta forget her manners, though, and she offered a dry, chapped hand for him to shake: “I’m Casta. Did we… meet at the Hatching?” she remembered his face, although not his name. Maybe they had never been introduced properly. She hoped her hesitation hadn’t seemed rude – if anything, her Benden accent would clue him in to her personal reservations.

Could people in this Weyr not announce themselves by making noise? Casta turned to meet Dmitri’s eyes when he voiced his question, feeling Posilanth’s amusement in the back of her mind when her first thought was Oh my, but he’s handsome. Casta may be prickly as a thistle when crossed, but her head was easily turned by male beauty – especially if the male in question had a brain as well. “I was taught when I was little,” she told him, looking to Cer’c to see if he had any more talent. “I’m not very good at it, though.” Casta was nothing if not honest.

[mierce]

"Ah, so your dragon's name is Posilanth? Congratulations to you for Impressing!" Cer'c's smile broadened as he gently took Casta's proffered hand with both of his. He was completely oblivious to her reservations and similarly clueless about the implications of her accent.

Had Casta been male, he would have returned the greeting with a hearty shake of the hand(s), but that was hardly the proper reaction to a young lady. Instead he stepped a little closer and leaned forward. "Hello Casta, your name is very pretty," he commented. "My name is Cerd-- er, Cer'c." He lifted a hand to sheepishly scratch his head, though he kept the other casually closed over hers.

Harmonyth chose that moment to pad forward and peer curiously up at Casta, then bowed her head. Greetings, Casta.

Dmitri's appearance was a surprise to Cer'c and Harmonyth as well, and they both looked towards the harper. The Green's eyes took on a slightly strange color at the vibes she felt from this newcomer; the first words out of his mouth didn't make things better, either. How rude! Had she a frill, it would certainly be at least partially flared by now.

Cer'c glanced uncertainly at his bonded, both concerned and confused about the sudden wave of negative emotions from her. Gently, he laid a hand on her neck before responding. "I can read; let me help," he offered cheerfully, much to his own surprise. Voluntarily chaining himself to Archive duty doing something as daunting as relocating half the scrolls? What was he thinking? It was too late by then of course, so instead he shimmied past Casta (apologizing as he brushed against her), and took up one of the scrolls.

Unfurling it revealed ... a lot of words. He might have balked in horror had Casta not been there watching. Instead, he put on a rather serious face as he scanned the fine print. For once, he was glad that both his mother and Cerwain had practically forced the idea of learning to read down his throat. His vocabulary wasn't anything spectacular, but he could at least figure out what he was looking at. This one appeared to be some sort of historical record dating back to the early Selenitas Dynasty.

[Requiem]

Dmitri who, as a harper and by necessity something of a social creature, as most harpers were, wasn't oblivious to Cer'c's interest in the girl. Woman. Yes, woman. Late teens, early twenties...about Rae's age, in fact. And Cer'c had to be closer to Dmitri's. The harper had the delightful benefit of looking much older than he was. Being a journeyman and tall helped that quite a bit. His voice had changed sometime between eleven and twelve - inordinately early - and he grew gracefully, so the lankiness of youth wasn't his bane. For all that, he still was fifteen, even if his appearance and the eloquence that came naturally to most harpers did quite a bit to conceal that. Cer'c, unfortunately, looked fifteen, and from what little Dmitri had already witnessed, he seemed to act it, too.

Not likely to impress a woman. Dmitri made a mental note to take him aside and maybe give him a few pointers. Like not hovering so much. That toothy cheerfulness was downright freaky at close quarters, especially to northern women, which Casta most certainly was. Her accent made that clear.

Not that the harper was a womanizer by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, few seemed to be interested in him, and it had little to do with his mouth - though that couldn't help too much (he'd been decidedly bratty since coming south.) The boy was simply very feminine in appearance. It wasn't even the cute sort of feminine that some girls liked, either. His features were such a mishmash that he could be considered downright androgynous. He was the sort of man who got second and third glances solely because determining gender could be difficult. Not exactly heartthrob material.

Naturally, the harper thought the pause of a few seconds was the typical decision as to which he was - at least people typically arrived at the conclusion of male - and he arched a brow at her, a brief flicker of an amused smile tracing over his lips. The amusement turned to gentle approval, and he nodded to Casta encouragingly, quite familiar with this particular brand of northern female. The skittish, submissive type. Usually responded well to a little friendly reinforcement - and here his lack of extreme masculine presence seemed to be an asset.

Not too surprising that Cer'c would agree once Casta had, if Dmitri was right about the boy's interest. He offered him a smile, too, though. Motivation wasn't important; it was help. (Of course, he did find it curious that a male greenrider was so obviously crushing on another greenrider female. Not that they had to be expressly homosexual or anything, but two submissives seemed an odd mix. Maybe he was reading too much into it, though.)

"Thanks. Could definitely use the help. Just tell me what you have and we'll get some piles going." Perusing through the first of the scrolls, he quickly set it near his foot, moving on to the next. "Congratulations, by the way. I suppose you both were really happy to Impress dragons?" Curiously, speaking and reading at the same time didn't seem to be a problem for him. Another stack was started. "Dmisk's dam sat on me." Because he'd tried to ride her. Details, details. "Probably just so he could claim me, the leech. A blue gnawing on your arm isn't the most pleasant thing." Despite the dry humor behind his words, there was a definite note of affection. Dmitri did love the cold, emotionless blue, despite all predictions.

For one, he was an amazing conversational partner. Nothing like a snark war between two sharp minds.

"What brought you two to Selenitas?" He wasn't as up to snuff on southern accents as he was northern, but he could tell that Cer'c wasn't a local, anyway.

[lex]

Cer’c’s eager friendliness made Casta’s smile widen, and a warm note filled her voice as she replied: “Thank you! And to you, of course,” she told him, gesturing to him with one hand to return the congratulations on Impressing. Not quite knowing what to do now that he had her hand in his and didn’t seem to be shaking it, Casta resisted the urge to pull away – that would only hurt his feelings, and she didn’t want to get on his wrong side at their first meeting. Then he stepped forward, and…oh, so that was it. Casta almost giggled at the other weyrling’s lack of tact. To someone she knew better, he reply would have been along the lines of ‘Nice chat-up line, now go find a girl your own age’, but Casta was, today, in a good enough mood to play along. There was no point in upsetting the lad.

“Thank you,” she replied to his statement about her name, hoping that his adolescent bullishness would enable him to miss the amusement in her voice and eyes. As boys went, he seemed to be the harmless type, and Casta had to admit a certain fondness for such young men – they were thin enough on the ground where she came from. His unasked-for physical proximity made her tense just a little, as it would with any young woman in a confined space – it was usually difficult to physically intimidate Casta, but everything here was so new that she was constantly on edge at times. Her head turned slightly away, as much to hide her smiles of mirth as to get some breathing space, and Casta would have scolded herself if she realised how much it made her look like a nervous runnerbeast. At his mistake over his name, Casta gave him a full smile: “It must be difficult enough to remember a change like that!” she remarked, hoping that he wouldn’t be embarrassed.

At Harmonyth’s words, she looked down in surprise. Posilanth would never dream of bespeaking another person so soon after breaking shell – she was still nervous enough when someone else was in the room, never mind speaking to them! “It’s good to meet you,” Casta told the little green, sending comforting waves to where her own hatchling began to fret with jealousy that someone else was speaking to her rider. Not to worry, dear one.

Dmitri’s amusement was seen and noted, as well as the look of encouragement in his eyes – Casta had seen that look before. It was the one which said ‘Poor Benden girl, I’ll be nice to her’, and one which usually made her blood boil. Pity was something Casta detested. Today, however, she was in a contrary mood – playing the part of the broken bird wasn’t new to her (sometimes it could serve you very well in Benden) – and she decided not to disabuse Dmitri of his notion for the moment. If he wanted to think she was timid, let him: he would find out the truth soon enough, if he stepped wrong. Maybe it would even help the three of them get along – enough men felt threatened by a strong-minded woman, and Cer’c in particular seemed like the type.

I though you didn’t like making snap judgements about people?

I’m hardly doing that. And I’m always open to change my mind about someone!

Maybe Cer’c was used to Hold girls? That would explain his hasty apology as he brushed past her. From what she had seen of him, he was used to being very polite to members of the opposite sex, which implied a Hold background. In Weyrs, girls were just girls. He also seemed to be very interested in women. Casta stifled a smile: he was in for a bit of a shock when he realised the full implications of Impressing a green. At Dmitri’s question concerning Impression, she simply gave him a vigorous nod, her eyes lighting up for a moment as she remembered it again. Of course she was happy!

Picking up a scroll, Casta unrolled it carefully and looked at the words of the title, her finger following the line of text, and her lips moving as she read what it said. No, reading didn’t come easily to her. It was a Hatching record, and she placed it on the appropriate pile. Her head darted up when Dmitri began to speak again. Oh, so he was a wherhandler as well as a Harper? Interesting. His story earned a chuckle. “They choose their partners like dragons do, then?” she asked him, intrigued. Casta knew very little about whers – she hardly ever saw the ones at Benden, as she never had cause to be near their lairs at night.

And then it was her turn to answer Dmitri’s question. “I left Benden Weyr for Blossom Hold, and then I got Searched here.” It was the bare bones of her answer, but Casta wasn’t one to go into reasons unless she was asked. After all, why would she want to bore anyone with a story they didn’t want to hear?

[mierce]

Harmonyth settled down on the floor near Casta to watch the humans work. She wasn't fond of the wherhandler, but Hers seem to tolerate him, and so she would make the effort as well. Her deep blue eyes followed the movements of their hands as leathery scroll after leathery scroll found a home in the slowly increasing number of piles. She didn't really understand what the piles meant, and wondered if they were just trying to unsettle the dust in the room. It was certainly making her nose itchy.

Cer'c had just dropped a scroll into history pile when Dmitri asked about their Impression. His entire face lit up as he picked up the next scroll. "Oh, yes! Ever since my sister became a dragonrider, I've wanted to be one, as well. Can't wait for Harmonyth to grow large enough to ride~"

At the Harper's comment about his own Impression, Cer'c found himself imagining a comical scene of Dmitri getting knocked over before being sat on -- not too different from a similar one that had happened at the Fears hatching -- and grinned at the image. "I've never actually seen a wher before," he said, absently unrolling his scroll. "How large are they when they hatch?"

He glanced down at the latest wall-of-text... or it once was a wall of text. The ink had faded over time so that he could tell that something had been there, but other than that he could barely make out most of the densely packed inscriptions. Those that were legible did not carry enough context for him to begin to imagine what they could possibly be referring to. Something about a large water wheel, and nets? He pursed his lips and lifted the scroll up this way and that hoping that different lighting might help. Further down he caught the word fish... Maybe these were about fishing expeditions, or a giant fish capsizing a large boat? Oh my!

He didn't get my farther in his wild imaginings though when Casta revealed her origins (skeletal information as it may be). "Oh, so you're from the North," he said with the same unabashed friendliness as before. The slight frown at the troublesome scroll melted away and turned into a smile. "It must have been quite different after you arrived at Blossom. Has it be weird, getting used to the differences?"

Though Cer'c observations may have been nothing short of an obvious to most people, he really did not know of the extents of conditions at Benden other than that things were "very different". The questions he extended could have also been seen as smalltalk, but Cer'c wasn't really in that and any questions he asked would be questions he genuinely was curious about. Likewise, it didn't yet cross his mind that his inquiries might be a tad too prying for Casta.

[Requiem]

The joy at Impression seemed to be universal. (Well, not precisely. Dmitri hadn't been intending to Impress, and the gold's making a couch of him didn't do much to change that opinion. Neither did Dmisk dragging him off by he hair...or sitting on him and forcing him to blood...but a bond grows on even the most reluctant of mindmates.)

"Whers...no they're not quite like dragons." He nodded to Cer'c. "Not terribly large when they hatch, for one. About the size of a large canine? And they don't really bond the same, either. It's more of a prodding at you, and then if they think you might be suitable...they'll expect you to blood. That's what takes the bond to the level of a handler and his wher. Some are really picky, like my Dmisk. He rejected three other males before coming to me. Made his dam move, too. Never seen a blue command a gold before. Others are...well, they go for the first human they see. Or just reject them entirely. Whers don't need a handler, and they can bond to another if the first handler dies. So no, it's not the same. As far as the depth of the bond goes, though...you can communicate, feel each others emotions, and they say the Runs are as strong as Flights, though I don't see how they'd be able to compare the two."

Nor could he really say. In general, most of the accepted things about whers wasn't entirely true for him and Dmisk. Were they close? Yes. But Dmisk was a very closed-off sort of creature. He was fully aware of Dmitri at all times, but he rarely if ever allowed Dmitri to feel his emotions, and his communication - the series of pictures and impressions that without the wher for interpetation would have been almost meaningless - was far more precise than what most whers could manage. Dmisk was an arrogant, but obedient blue, and so frought with layers of motivations that explaining him was impossible.

"If you'd like to see a wher," he offered to Cer'c, glancing briefly at Casta to include her, "you both are more than welcome to accompany me to the wherhandler barracks. It's a bit too light for them to be out and about beneath the open sky."

The blonde harper glanced sidelong at Casta, thinking the sentence to be a very short description of such a major event in her life. His eyes flickered to Cer'c, an eyebrow rising at the question from the greenweyrling. "Can't say as I'm familiar with Benden Weyr," Dmitri commented easily. "Harper Hall's in Fort Hold, and my mom was a greenrider for Fort Weyr." His father also happened to be Selenitas's Weyrleader, but since S'rei had never seemed interested in claiming Dmitri, the boy didn't much feel like claiming him either. He had nothing to do with why Dmitri was at Selenitas, anyway.

"Was assigned here, actually. Dmisk wasn't...intentional." He tilted his head questioningly at Casta. "Securing passage from the north to Selenitas isn't easy." The statement itself wasn't overtly a question...he didn't intend to make her uncomfortable. But it definitely held traces of his curiosity.

[lex]

At the idea of seeing a wher at close quarters, Casta was visibly intrigued. “I’d love to,” she said, “if it’s not too much trouble.” She knew everything there was to know about life below stairs in a Weyr, and it was about time she started learning about the more privileged folk. And being so close all of a sudden to one dragon had made her all the more curious about other members of dragon-kin. Casta had yet to get very close to a fire-lizard or salamandyr, but she had no doubt that she would do, one day. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted one, though – she doubted that Posilanth would welcome another creature taking away (as she would perceive it) some of her rider’s love.

Casta had more questions about whers – could they speak? Could they fly? – but she decided to keep her mouth shut for now. True, she knew very little – but that was no reason to let these two lads know just how ignorant she was. Strange how she could know so much about trials of life, from birthing babies to caring for the sick, and know so little about the creatures she had been sharing a home with since the day she was born. But of course, in Benden you didn’t ask questions.

Cer’c’s unabashed, unassuming query warmed him to Casta as soon as he had said it. Thank Faranth there was someone here who wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around her! Considering her answer for a moment, she gave the two young men a wry grin. “Different is right,” she told them, shaking her head a little at the understatement of her words. “Sometimes it feels the same, but sometimes it can be like a different – world, almost.” She had gone three whole weeks without having to deliver a well-placed verbal slap to ward off unwanted attention. Now that was an odd state of affairs. But she couldn’t tell that to these two, of course – if they were anything like Holders, they would be horrified. “I was born and bred in Benden - folk here are a different breed.”

The Harper’s question was more subtle, and Casta decided to satisfy his curiosity as much as she was willing to. “I took up with some traders passing Benden, paid them what I had and they let me tag along until they got to Blossom.” In actual fact, her money had run out much sooner than that, but there were ways for a girl to earn her keep if she didn’t have scruples. Reflectively, she tilted her head to one side. “It wasn’t easy, but as journeys go it was a fair one.” Looking at Cer’c with mild curiosity, she asked: “What about you? Were you Searched?” He didn’t seem Weyr-bred, but (as she was quickly learning) her idea of Weyrfolk was a very different one to those here.

[mierce]

Cer’c mouth hung agape as Dmitri explained the Impressing process with whers. Indeed, it was quite different. There were spectators at the hatching of Millieth’s eggs… perhaps he would watch a wher hatching, as well! A lot of what Dmitri said, while he understood, were still somewhat vague; it was quite likely that the weyrling was imagining a completely different scenario from what really happened.

“I’d love to see a wher!” he exclaimed rather loudly, momentarily forgetting where they were. A similarly loud “SHH” came from a nearby aisle causing Cer’c to blush and duck in embarrassment and stage-whisper an apology back.

He turned his attention to Casta then as she started speaking. Completely completely clueless about the likely trials of the journey on the woman, he Cer’c was most intrigued by the manner in which she described how she journeyed from Benden all the way to Blossom. He had never been in a position to just up and leave a place and hitchhike his way to a new town. “Wow, that must have been a very exciting trip,” he said, eyes wide while his imagination ran wild. “That’s really amazing that you were able to do that!”

His look of awe faded a bit, replaced by a grin. “I’m from Blossom, too. I went to Selenitas Hold maybe a turn or so ago to start training in woodcrafting. Was searched just a few months ago, and brought here!”