A Thought On My Mind[Arc]

[EW-NA]

“You can sit and wait here, Drask. I'll come back when I'm finished,” the redhead explained, her voice holding it usual optimistic confidence. “I'll call you if I need.”


Drask gave a snort, not sharing his handler's blind assurance. Very rarely did he ever, but even more so on this occasion. Atleast from what he could piece together on what this was all entailing. What Daedra wished to get out of it and whom she had to go to. However, not intending to be the 'hiccup' of the encounter, the old Brown plopped his backside on the stone flooring, just as he was instructed.

Daedra offered the old wher a smile, perhaps to bolster his and her own confidence, before turning away. Her lips shrunk down to an uneasy line when she was out of Drask's line of sight, though she noticed from where he sat himself, he would most likely remain in view. It was nice, as she wasn't particularly easy minded on what she hoped to accomplish currently. Speaking with new faces had never been a problem prior to this but.... well, she had to imagine this was rather different.


“Um... excuse me,” her voice rang up quietly, as she took a few steps towards the man in question. It had taken her awhile to come across him alone. A while to even come across him in general. When it seemed he heard her, the redhead chances another step closer, but still being mindful to not cross the boundary of 'too close' to his person.

It was funny, as it had been some time since she found herself so nervous, when trying to address someone. She hoped her uneasy didn't come off so noticeably, but she knew she was not very good at disguising her emotions.

“Sir---”

[Arcane]

High Reaches Weyr had so many people. So many faces and voices. Aragon had long since lost the knack for keeping them all straight.

But he did not think he had ever spoken to this small red-haired wherhandler before, who seemed at least a little bit afraid of him.

"I'm hardly going to bite the hand that feeds me, wherhandler. Relax," Aragon said, taking the moment to adjust his grip on the heavy sack in his hands, "There's nothing in here but wherry feed, headed straight for the stables."

The weyr believed in putting all its hands to work. Which suited Aragon just fine. He wasn't used to an idle life, after so many turns on the roads.

His hunting skills were of little use to a weyr and his hands weren't the nimblest, but he still had strength enough. He chopped firewood and carried goods and helped with the laundry. It wasn't sort of the glamorous life he might have dreamed of as a boy, but there were worse fates.

[EW-NA]

Despite his suggestion, Daedra absolutely did not relax, going as far as mildly jerking upon hearing his voice. She was conscious enough to realize how that must have come off to him. It wasn't as if she found him, in particular, to be rather scary. Than again, her perception of 'scary' was probably a bit screwed in comparison to the average person of Pern. Considering her dearest companion in the world was a 5ft hulking behemoth that could topple trees and crush bone when he wished to, and she found him perfectly reasonable.

“Oh, it's not that,” Daedra chimed in, hoping she hadn't bungled her introduction before it well even began. “--I didn't mean to imply I thought you would do something. Other than your chores,” she added awkwardly, gesturing to the sack held tight in his grip. It was probably heavier than anything she could manage by herself.

As she finally got a proper view of this stranger finally, now that they stood face to face to speak, Daedra didn't find anything off-putting about him. Really-- he wasn't the 'scary' part of all this. Rather, she was more jittery about what would follow; what could follow.

“I was hoping...” she started, having found it was always best just to get up and doing the things that unnerved you. Worrying and fretting over them helped nothing. Still, her voice drowned out quick enough, as fumbling overtook what little poise she had. “--if you're not too busy, for the moment. I wanted to make sure, I spoke to the right person.”

Her thin, delicate fingers pulled and fiddled with one another before her chest.


“I wanted... to ask you a question, if I may. You wouldn't have to answer, if you didn't want to.”

[Arcane]

Ah, so that's what this was about.

"Aragon," Aragon introduced himself, by way of clarification. There was only one other branded man in the weyr, who was over two decades his junior. This wherhandler was clearly trying to be polite, but if she was seeking him out, she presumably knew that much. Aragon had seen far too much in his life to find the charm in feigned ignorance.

"Never heard of needing permission to ask a question," Aragon said. He'd had his share of prodding conversations, from the weyr's terminally curious. He didn't enjoy them, but he dealt. The weyr had given him a safe place for his sons. He could cope with a bit of prying, "If it's the sort of question to give offense, it won't become harmless just because you asked before asking. Can't rightly tell you if I'll want to answer or not, without knowing what the question is."

[EW-NA]

She blinked again, when he suddenly spoke a word, which she quickly realized to be his name. Daedra scrunched her face momentarily, rather embarrassed she'd stumbled over the most basic of common courtesies. So focused and fretful over her intended questions, she'd probably foul up her interaction before it even began.

“Oh... My name is Daedra,” the redhead quickly recovered, offering her own in return. “-of Brown Drask. That's him, over there,” turning and gesturing towards the large Brown lump of flesh, a decent amount of paces away. Far enough that his size was probably not as intimidating, despite how the wher splayed on the ground like a washed up bit of driftwood.

Daedra pragmatically swallowed down her habitual habit of asking if the stranger wanted a proper introduction to Drask. As the wher was normally her general center of focus and assurance, she felt maybe it was better for him to be... elsewhere. For the time being.

There was still a moment of hesitancy, before Daedra spoke up again. As if trying to figure where she stood in this metaphorical minefield, she was unintentionally making. Still, she couldn't just stand there debating...

“Questions don't always need permission to be asked... but it is considered polite, when you're unfamiliar with the other party,” she carefully explained. Not harsh or insulted, just mere explanation. And though Aragon didn't say she could continue so directly, Daedra had to assume, based on his phrasing... he was atleast willing to hear her out. Which was something...though, now she was posed with the next of her issues: how to articulate what she was hoping for.

“I was wondering....before you came to High Reaches, did you meet other people?” Daedra flinched again the moment she finished, realizing that was not worded appropriate, and quickly tried to add clarification. “I mean... not those you came here with. But rather....did you ever come across others in the area... that didn't live in the Holds or Weyrs?”

[Arcane]

Aragon's closest friends at the weyr, outside his family and former holdless allies, were wherhandlers and he had learned by now that the weyr's whers minded their manners and were often better company than the weyr's dragonriders. Drask got a polite nod and nothing more, with no hint of intimidation or particular interest.

Aragon raised an eyebrow. The Bitrans he'd grown up with and the holdless he'd traveled with had asked questions without any preamble. Lanselot and Dukat did the same and Dukat was the proper-est person Aragon imagined he'd ever willingly associate with.

But this Daedra seemed a nervous sort of girl- the sort who tiptoed gingerly around trying not to give offense, prying into his business and making him feel like the asshole if he minded. Aragon never knew what to say to delicate people. He couldn't argue with them properly or even speak his mind frankly without feeling like he'd kicked a puppy. So he just grunted and let her ask her question.

"The wilds are a big place and these mountains have no shortage of caverns and crevices to hide in. Holdless don't stumble across each other often. I saw others from time, but I mostly kept my distance from them and they kept their distance from me. You can never know why someone else was branded," Aragon explained. It wasn't an overly personal question, at least. He didn't tell her about his Rahaneal. It wasn't her story to hear, "Our group banded together a few turns back because we were starving and desperate and all had kids to protect."

[EW-NA]

Her attention quickly focused to Aragon, when he offered a reply. She hadn't been surprised he'd agreed to listen, and was more than relieved when he was willing to answer. The main reason for her prior nerves dissipated like smoke to the wind. So now that the worry that her endeavor would be snuffed out before it even had footing to stand was over, she looked to the older man eagerly.

As expected, her once entranced expression, though brief, soon fell to disappointment over the course of his explanation. Daedra did not attempt to mask any of the clear internal workings that displayed upon on her features; she hadn't even thought to. She had no reason to.


“Oh...” a moment of silence, with her eyes downcast as she mulled over that. “-I suppose that is a fair point.” She knew it was a hard truth, just as well as Aragon and his band had, but still...

Blue eyes shifting back up towards his face, she couldn't help but still cling to what she'd originally hoped for. Staring up at him now, with the barest hint of that nervous jitter from before. “So... you never met any other Holdless in your travels? Even briefly, that you could recall? Even some turns back...” she asked, with the barest of hesitance, but was clear she fretted more on the response, than who was giving the response.

She knew this was probably a fool's endeavor. It was doubtful that Aragon's answer would miraculously shift, considering how 'to the point' the man seemed. Daedra, however... was fine to be a fool, is these circumstances. To cling to the smallest sliver of hope. Especially as she recalled how harsh the winter season had been... and the famine before that... and the landslides....

[Arcane]

"No," Aragon said, firmly, but trying not to sound too harsh. She was trembling again, although thank forsk not as much as before, "As I said, my family and I kept to ourselves. Never really needed anyone else, until the famine came and the roads got more dangerous."

He didn't tell her that he had feared the dragons the famine brought into their lands as much as the hunger pinching at his belly. It didn't matter. She wasn't asking for his story. She wanted to know who else was out there. In all the decades of his journeys, he had spoken to only a scant handful of people, all of whom were now safe in the weyr or lost beneath the snow.

"Doesn't mean there aren't others out there. Just that I haven't met them," Aragon clarified.

[EW-NA]

Daedra's lips pursed into the finest thin line at his response. Needed. As if a person only had value if they had something useful to contribute. Of course, Daedra didn't hold such a thought against Aragon, or the like. She was well aware that it was a common enough sentiment. Especially living on one's own in the outside world, one had to make priorities, and decide what those priorities entailed.

Daedra was trying very hard not to let such thinking overwhelm her too much. Of what-ifs and could-be's and the unavoidable....

“Yes, I know.... There's a surprising many people out there,” the redhead offered back quietly, when Aragon mentioned 'others'. She fiddled with her fingers again, but rather slowly, almost just moving them about subconsciously. She'd been well aware from the start, that this would probably be the best she would receive. Simply hoping for an outcome didn't will it to reality... Still, regardless of telling herself this over and over, it didn't really ease the disappointment much.

It had never stopped her from hoping none the less either. However, that was no fault of the man standing before her, and she realized she still owed him all the proper courtesies that came with shared conversations.


Daedra stopped pulling at her fingers, before opting to put them together, setting each finger to rest against the same on her opposite hand, before offering a smile. “Thank you, though, for answering my questions,” the redhead offered, her voice now fully void of the nervous jitters of earlier. “I'm sorry to take kept you from your work. I hope it won't be too much of an inconvenience for you.”