The recent camping disaster was the talk of the weyr. It would be; after all, being stalked by a hoard of whers, subsequently attacked, among other things, was a (hopefully) once in a lifetime event. Her experience had been tame compared to some of her fellow candidates, but something about the trip had cemented itself in her mind. Images of blood and ichor, small snippets of dragons and whers mauling one another, and the details of things she didn't see, all troubling her.
She wasn't terribly social, even on a good day, but it was later, and she was too ill at ease to sit in her weyr, and her roommate was nowhere in sight. The other candidate who was was Costanza; a man she found unremarkable, maybe even a little boring. But, for once, she wanted to talk, and he was the only one she had unless she went looking for someone she was more familiar with.
"Do you still think about it?" She asked, no 'hello' or lead into the conversation. "The camping trip, I mean. It all went to shards." She hoped, prayed she was coming off as aloof, hoped she was burying the unease she felt remembering everything, imagining what she didn't see.