The sun shines down on the Weyr Bowl, and quite a number of people are out and about on this bright day. You're making your way across the sandy floor, stretching your arms above your head. It's such a beautiful day out, one of the first after such a hard winter. It would be nice to stay on the beach today, go swimming... relax... get a tan...

But no, you've got your duties to deal with just like everyone else. And this morning they included something less to do with your job as a wingrider and more to do with a promise to a friend. There was a clutch hardening on Talor Cliff Sands, and you'd been assigned by your closest friends to go around and meet the Candidates. What for? For the betting. What fun was a Hatching if you couldn't make a little wager on the side? You couldn't complain too much, however. You'd meet them first hand, and you'd know best who to bet on.

The next weyr is just like the rest of the Candidate weyrs- simple, medium-sized, and looking about as temporary as any. You enter the dragon cavern, none at all surprised to find it empty and covered with a thick layer of dust. You walk over to the stone couch, seeing a small mound covering the top of it. It's layers of cloth, and you lift up one end to see that it's the side of a tapestry. It's simple-looking enough, probably a Jr. Journeyman's work with new thread.

The entrance to the inner weyr is covered with a thick, dark curtain. It looks new, and you can guess that the tapestries are as well- seeing as how they've yet to be hung. You duck behind it, not surprised to find the inner weyr empty as well. It's a bit more elaborate than some Candidate weyrs you've seen. The bed has been stripped of its winter furs and has been replaced with thinner sheets over the rushes. There is a high table complete with three chairs, and you can see all that remains of the fourth in the corner. There is a trunk at the foot of the bed, it's lid open and leaning back against the footboard of the bed.

A white robe is slung over the footboard as well, and you walk over to it. The Candidate was fairly clumsy if they left their precious robe sitting out in the open, then again maybe they were just over eager for the Hatching to arrive. Either way, they must have been out working on some chore or such, as Candidates are always assigned. You lift up the sleeve of the robe, smiling as you remember your own Impression.

"What in Faranth's name do you think you're doing with that!?" The shout surprises you enough to make you whirl around, your calves bumping into the trunk as it slams shut behind you. Standing with the curtain held to one side is a young woman. Her hair is standing out almost on end, though it still looks damp from her bath in the Candidate's bathing pool.

She has icy blue eyes, and they stare at you from behind the mane of dark hair. Her upper lip is curled up lightly under her turned-up, nub of a nose. She's fairly pretty, you'd guess. She thin, though she has enough meat on her bones to prove she's been well enough to eat. She's strong though, and you can see callouses on her hands as she snatches the robe away from you. "That's mine, if you didn't know." She tosses it down on the bed, sitting down beside it. "What are you doing here?"

You stare at her for a moment, thinking to yourself that her behavior was rather rude for someone hoping to Impress a Talor Cliff dragon. You introduce yourself, stating your name indignantly. "I am a wingrider, and I came to visit a few of the Candidates."

Her expression seems to change, and though it no longer seems angry it still seems wary. It's obvious she's trying to hide her surprise. "They do that around here? Just let people walk into a Candidate's weyr?" At your nod she frowns, wrinkling her nose. "That's just a tad bit rude, don't you think?" As she talks she runs a towel through her hair, trying to dry it.

"Perhaps, but how else are the Weyrfolk going to get to know the hopeful Impressees." You grin, pointing out this fact as you sit down in one of the chairs. You can't help but grin wider as she chuckles from across the room.

"I suppose your right. Well, go ahead. I don't have any chores for the rest of the morning, so I was pretty much set to wander about and be bored anyway. Ask away." She leaned back against the headboard to her bed, crossing her legs in front of her. In doing so, she ruffled her half-buttoned shirt, most likely something she hadn't noticed when dressing after bathing. You can see the end of a long scar that travels across her upper torso, ending just above her beltline.

"Well, you could always start with that." You point towards her and she gives you a curious look, not understanding. "That there. That scar you have." You motion towards her again, then lean your elbows on the back of your chair.

"Oh, that 'that', eh?" She grins wryly, buttoning the last few buttons of her shirt. "That is what remains of a fight I once had. You might not believe this, but I used to have quite a temper." She smiles as you snicker. "However, I wasn't as good with my knife as I was with my tongue." She ran a hand across the end of the scar, then flipped her shirt back to cover it. She pointed to a spot just below her left shoulder and ran a finger down across to where the scar ended. "Travels all the way from here to there."

You nod. Her hair begins to dry, and you can see the lighter shades showing through. It's pretty, probably her best feature considering she's built almost curveless other than the bit of meat she has on her bones. Her eyes are pretty, but she lines them with too much charcoal around the bit of dark circles she has, though her dark eyebrows make a good contrast. "So, I take it you aren't weyrbred from that scene a few moments ago."

She snickers despite the defensive manner you'd expect. "It was surprise, not a scene. You're right though, I'm holdbred. Heard of Haethis Hold?" Her smile is just short of devilish as she laughs at the look on your face. Haethis is heralded to being out-done in gambling foolishry by Bitra itself. It's the home of some of the most unsavory people in the territory. "My father is the the minor Lord Holder there."

You nod to yourself, making note of that. Born of Holder blood, even if it's probably been so diluted since her ancestors left Bitra that it doesn't even count in the scheme of things anymore.

"I have a little bit of dragonrider in me." She smiled, an actual genuine smile. "My mother was the watchrider there before she returned here to fight during the Pass. A greenrider, and a good one from what everyone's been telling me." She grinned wryly. "Though I don't know anyone who'd ever speak a harsh word of the dead." She shrugged non-chalantly. "So, dragonrider. Tell me what else is on your mind."

You look around the room and think for a moment. Do you ask more about her history? Or do you take a look at that hidebound book on the table beside you. Maybe you'd rather inquire as to how she was Searched, or maybe if she has any pets?

Now that she's Impressed, perhaps you'd like to meet the lil' darling?