Post by Rhush on Oct 10, 2012 15:41:28 GMT -5
Srunae
Srunae wandered on auto-pilot through the Dining Cavern, her mind lost on the waves of ever increasing dread of her new life. A tray was balanced on one hand while her gaze was faraway, even as she looked mostly at the floor instead of in front of her. Tawny locks were tied back into a messy runner tail, several loose locks falling in front of one cloudy grey-hazel eye, and her warm, tanned skin seemed pale in the cavern light. She sighed heavily and took her seat, leaning her cheek into her left palm and picking at her chosen meal with her right.
Since her arrival she had been feeling melancholy instead of her usual kid-in-a-candy-store attitude; bubbly, happy, excited, and viewing the world in rapt adoration was non-existant in this bleak new trend. Instead of being excited and please, she was worried - worried, worried, worried. How was her mother doing? What of her little brother? What about her few dear friends back home in Ista Weyr? And what about this new weyr, this new home of hers? They were a sharding mess! The Weyrwoman was now officially something of a creepy being, having risen from the dead like a re-animated corpse, sallow, pale, and utterly worrisome. The Weyrleader was a but a child, no older than Srunae herself, and trying to lead a disillusioned Weyr alongside a council of old men that could easily lead him astray, if he wasn't as intelligent as he needed to be. The other candidates were either extremely quiet or extremely forward, and there was at least one person among them that gave the beastcrafter an odd feeling of insecurity that had nothing to do with adoration.
Perhaps the only things that Srunae was not worrying about, (and even then, she was) were the eggs growing and hardening on the sands. Those babies were healthy and hale, she felt, even the young ones that refused to respond to her touch. Their mother was a gleaming body of sinew and healthy hide - the eggs could surely be no different. What worried her about them was not their ability to hatch or to impress, but that none of them would find her worthy. Such a funk this brought on that the journeyman could do nothing but feel unworthy to even have been brought here, let alone allowed to stand or given the chance to be as much of a help as she possibly could even without a dragon.
What she really needed was something to bring her out of her funk...