[Firebrand] Orientation

[Arcane]

TW: Discussion of thread injuries

Maev had worked her share of grunt jobs in her life. Farmhand. Deckhand. Fisher. Guard-for-hire. Dockworker. Drudge. Anything that paid and didn't require too many turns of training or too much of a commitment to sticking around. But since she'd first met Tezcath's eyes, she'd made her living fighting thread. Which was, quite frankly, the worst work she'd ever done. No Harper was going to write a ballad about shucking oysters- but oysters couldn't eat a man's hand, not leaving so much as a bone behind. Maev was smart enough to know she wasn't so special it could never be her hand. So she'd gotten out when she could. And signed herself straight up for what promised to be far safer work.

The safest squad in Semaca, of course, was Chopin. But Tezcath had too much of an ego to haul wood. Besides, Requiem had potential. Opportunity to make some extra marks, if she got clever or lucky enough to find something worth the trouble of pawning.

Besides, Tezcath had always liked hunting. Life went smoother for Maev, when he was placated enough to want to be cooperative.

They really don't look anything like you. That Igenite who said you looked like a spotty must have been blind as a bat, Maev noted to Tezcath, as she stared at the trio of stuffed spotties. One of them had a beak, which was a bit odd, as Maev had never met an animal with a beak before. But then, she'd never met a spotty either.

She stood in the middle of the most horrifying weyr she'd ever seen, filled with taxidermied creatures large and small, the walls covered in pinned bugs and dried leaves. The scholar squad- Mazurka- had put this place together, supposedly, to help acquaint new members of the Squads with the local wildlife. She'd been ordered to go look at it.

So she was looking at it.

Someone at Mazurka had probably just wanted an excuse to show off their morbid trophies in a room big enough so dragons could also come and gawp.

Tezcath stared at the spotty, with an intense, unwavering focus, already analyzing the creature, When we encounter one, I will prove myself the superior bearer of spots.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin and Torrigath quietly made their way down the hall to the weyr they had been told about. Torrigath was just about full grown, capable of flight, and ready to graduate from Weyrlinghood. He and the rest of the class had been instructed that soon they and their riders would need to choose their preference for what squad to join, and had been told to consider how they would best serve the weyr.

Frowning to themselves, Quentin's fingertips ran across a small leather band they had braided from scraps. They wanted to be the best worker they could be, to help the weyr, but they just didn't know how they would do so.

Fret not, mine. Anything we do will be contributing to better life at Semaca. Torrigath told his bonded. The brown did not feel strongly about where the pair landed one way or another, just that Quentin was happy with the decision. If we find a role doesn't fit us, we can always transfer to a different squad later.

No. That will not do. Quentin replied, shaking their head. I do not wish to disappoint anyone by making the wrong choice.

Torrigath sighed. He was also anxious about making the right choice, but was hoping his rider would have a deeper conviction he could just follow. He didn't have to worry if Quentin was sure, just making his rider happy would but his own worries at ease, but it was not that simple. Well, let's see this museum Mazurka has put together. Maybe seeing some of the specimens will help you decide.

The pair stepped into the room, filled with taxidermy and preserved specimens from the wild jungles around the weyr. Quentin was immediately drawn to the displays, scrutinizing the displays closely. Torrigath, less concerned with the static creatures, noticed they were not the only living things in the room. It appeared there was another dragon, a blue, and his rider in the weyr as well, looking at a trio of taxidermied spotties.

Oh, hello! The brown called to the other pair, wanting to be polite and personable to the strangers. I'm surprised to see someone else in this macabre collection. I'm Torrigath, and that is my rider Quentin, over there. May I ask your names?

[Arcane]

Maev looked over the new pair. A weyrling, based on the human- Quentin's- knots. Quention stood a few inches taller than her, which was unusual enough to be notable. The dragon was a big one too, larger than many an adult brown, and didn't have any of the adolescent lankiness of a still-growing hatchling, so probably nearing the end of their weyrlinghood.

"Macabre, yes, but also educational. Or so my new squadmates claim," Maev said with a casual shrug, "Figured I'd learn enough of the local wildlife so I can eat them before they eat me."

Basic survival skills were important, in any new endeavor. A sailor needed to know the smell of a foul wind. A threadfighter needed to know the signs of a nasty fall. Anyone venturing into the jungles needed to know what snakes carried poison in their bite.

"I'm Maev," she offered the brown, "Requiem Squad's newest fresh meat."

Tezcath turned away from the taxidermied felines for a moment to study the new arrivals, his gaze flat and difficult to read, Tezcath, originally of Fort Weyr. A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure.

His voice was low and powerful, like the pressure in the air before a storm, but his intonation was indifferent. Courtesies given, he turned back to studying the collection of new enemies and prey laid out before him.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Torrigath nodded as Maev spoke, looking around the weyr at the various specimens. Oh, I am not denying the usefulness! He quickly said, not wanting to appear ignorant. It is certainly a boon to be able to see the kinds of dangers the jungles can present from the safety of the Weyr. Even if these are more...static than the ones we would actually see.

Quentin looked up from the large insect they were examining, alerted to Torrigath's growing anxiety. The dragon did not want to appear as incompetent, and his stress was rising. They quietly walked over to their bonded and placed a hand against the brown's hide.

The pair seemed formidable, and certainly intimidating. Not many people stood near Quentin's height, and very few of those were women. The blue seemed to have the keen senses of a hunter, his voice low like rumbling thunder. Quentin would certainly not want to be on the other side of the pair in a fight.

Quentin cleared their throat. "So, you are new here, then?" They asked, trying to take some of the socialization burden off of Torrigath. "Why did you decided Semaca?"

[Arcane]

"True enough. Personally I prefer seeing them static first," Maev shrugged, oblivious to the brown's growing discomfort, "But if you want some live samples Torrigath, bet you could talk someone into it. Doesn't seem like too big a leap."

Anyone willing to collect a box of spiders ranging from the size of Maev's thumb to her hand didn't seem the type to mind putting a few critters in cages.

Living things need to eat. And sometimes die anyway, Tezcath disagreed, still staring at the same sample. It was the largest and the most impressive- the closest the room held to a true threat. He did not to assess birds and rats and bugs to crush them, We will see how our prey moves in the jungle.

Maev gave the rider a polite nod, as they spoke up for the first time, with the standard small talk every new transfer should expect, "Yep, I'm fresh out of between, in search of better weather, safer duties, and hopefully more interesting people. You?"

Quentin clearly wasn't young enough to have been born here, which meant they'd had their own journey, one way or another.

I was promised worthy hunts, Tezcath gave his own answer, And a newborn weyr in need of legends.

[FirebrandPhlox]

Quentin nodded as Maev answered. Her reasons were the same as many who had come down to Semaca, safety and better weather than the north. Things that had never even crossed Quentin's mind when they had decided to move south.

"I wanted to be a rider, and the caravan I joined was heading here," Quentin said plainly. It was the truth, they had not agonized over where to go to pursue candidacy like they were currently fretting about what wing to join. The realization made them frown and fall quiet as they pondered what that meant.

It means you don't need to worry over this decision as much as you have, Torrigath quietly said over their mental link.

Tezcath's talk of the hunt seemed eager to Torrigath, much more so than he had heard from others, even during the tunnelsnake scare. "So you are excited to begin work in the jungle then? He asked. Are you not afraid of the dangers out there? From what we have heard, the spotties are incredibly ferocious and not to be underestimated.