Wed Apr 10, 2024 8:18 pm
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"As candidates, our tasks are assist riders in whatever ways are needed," Scara said, her words coming out tight and clipped. She made a face. "You'd rather handle poop than wash a few dishes?" she asked, incredulous. "I've seen riders wash the odd plate. But riders don't change diapers. You're being absurd." There was a reason there were creches, and it was because a rider wasn't meant to be involved in their child's life. Surely everyone knew that!
Scara recognized the attempt at small talk for what it was and tried to stamp down the worst of her annoyance. "Sometimes," she said. "I'm from Fort, originally. Winters got cold and snowy, but summers could get pretty hot."
Scara smothered a smile at Anphiel's laugh, as well as her acknowledgement of Scara's backbone. Though having her jibe be called 'cute' rankled, she decided to let it slide. "Riders need to have backbone if they're to face thread," she said. "Since I want to be a threadfighter, it stands to reason I should have some. You certainly take an insult better than I was expecting, I'll grant you that," she added, almost begrudgingly.
Seeing Anphiel scratching at her hands, Scara couldn't help but offer some advice. "I've got some lotion one of the weyrfolk makes," she said, nodding at Anphiel's hands. "Makes it with this plant that grows around here. Looks prickly, but it produces this thick sap that smells good and feels good on the skin. Good for burns, too." Semaca had some truly strange plants, with bizarre properties. She even thought she'd seen someone eating the sap before, but she didn't think she wanted to try that anytime soon.