27.Sep.13, 06:19 AM
The dining hall was nearly empty and T'ken felt a frission of relief as he finished gathering his food and picked a seat at an empty table. Kela lay down beside him, the leather cape she wore enough to keep her from smelling of wet dog. The rain ahd fallen constantly and T'ken was forgetting what a wonder it was to be dry. The canine was too well trained to beg, but not above making him feel guilty for enjoying supper. T'ken studiously ignored her, though did set aside a few bites of his herdbeast slice for her after he was done eating.
He took his time, relaxing after a hard day of taking care of Indrith, lessons, and his canines. Weyrlinghood and having a dragon wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He was beginning to wonder if he had been lied to about Indrith letting him work with his canines and...it felt like all his nightmares were coming true since Impressing. His foster mother tried to help, often distracting Indrith so T'ken could work and trying her best to talk to him, but T'ken wasn't sure if it truly helped or made things worse.
He needed to work harder on this dragonrider thing. Graduation was coming up fast adn there was still so much he didn't know. He was feeling like he had when his mother had died...like he was just pretending to know what he was doing, half trained and trying fill the shoes of a fully trained journeyman. It felt like that for dragon riding, like he'd be a weyrling pretending to be a dragonrider.
Worse than that was the thought that he'd wind up in his father's wing. He knew Ravana had gone to S'kef and begged the man to take him into his own wing, but her attempt to shield T'ken and T'rel by not telling S'kef why...well the weyrleader would do what he wanted. He didn't think he could pretend respect for the man. He got angry just watching a wing practice, and he had a feeling that actually engaging in one would wind up with him and his father butting heads again.
He sighed and once again pushed his negative thoughts away, before Indrith noticed them and got upset. He didn't want to have to explain things to the brown again. He would work it out, he always did and this time he wasn't alone. That helped. It helped more than he could imagine.
The weyrling realized he was picking at his food and stopped, starting to actually eat. He relaxed as he ate, his stomach stopping it's hungry grumbles and the sips of juice helping him to relax. The chill from a day spent out in the rain started to fade and he took a deep breath, feeling human again. This was better.
He took his time, relaxing after a hard day of taking care of Indrith, lessons, and his canines. Weyrlinghood and having a dragon wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He was beginning to wonder if he had been lied to about Indrith letting him work with his canines and...it felt like all his nightmares were coming true since Impressing. His foster mother tried to help, often distracting Indrith so T'ken could work and trying her best to talk to him, but T'ken wasn't sure if it truly helped or made things worse.
He needed to work harder on this dragonrider thing. Graduation was coming up fast adn there was still so much he didn't know. He was feeling like he had when his mother had died...like he was just pretending to know what he was doing, half trained and trying fill the shoes of a fully trained journeyman. It felt like that for dragon riding, like he'd be a weyrling pretending to be a dragonrider.
Worse than that was the thought that he'd wind up in his father's wing. He knew Ravana had gone to S'kef and begged the man to take him into his own wing, but her attempt to shield T'ken and T'rel by not telling S'kef why...well the weyrleader would do what he wanted. He didn't think he could pretend respect for the man. He got angry just watching a wing practice, and he had a feeling that actually engaging in one would wind up with him and his father butting heads again.
He sighed and once again pushed his negative thoughts away, before Indrith noticed them and got upset. He didn't want to have to explain things to the brown again. He would work it out, he always did and this time he wasn't alone. That helped. It helped more than he could imagine.
The weyrling realized he was picking at his food and stopped, starting to actually eat. He relaxed as he ate, his stomach stopping it's hungry grumbles and the sips of juice helping him to relax. The chill from a day spent out in the rain started to fade and he took a deep breath, feeling human again. This was better.