07.Mar.12, 04:43 AM
Indivara struggled valiantly against the foot pressing down on her chest, her eyes full of fire as she glared up at the harper, her desire to murder him written all over her face. She jerked, and froze, however, when Valerian spoke of Larrikith, before she spit at him, disgusted by his accusation that she were trying not to cry. "Haven't cried in turns," she boasted, returning to her wild attempts to escape from under his foot. The last time she could recall crying was because she'd fallen off a rock and broken her left arm. Since she was only six at the time, that was plenty enough excuse. Never mind that she'd broken the sharding arm! She bet the primped up Harper had never broken a bone!
Indivara frowned up at Valerain with a slightly puzzled expression, before hauling herself to sit when he stepped back. Released from his confinement and confident in her ability to vanish up into the branches if he so much as twitched to move in her direction, the preteen climbed to her feet arrogantly and shoved her tangled hair out of her face with her left hand. She ignored his claim to being Katilan without so much as blinking; it was as if she didn't even hear his claim at all. The young girl was eyeing Valerian boldly, taking in his height, his form and general appearance. Her lips pursed suddenly and her bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"You would get along with Larrikith." She said suspiciously, voice spiked with irritation, the girl still less than pleased with his snide go at her being a cry baby. She supposed he might have had a point about her tantrum throwing, but nothing she threw would ever outclass some of the more explicit Northerners that came in. Besides, she was born of a dragonrider! She'd been living with dragons her entire life. She was not some wide-eyed holder brat that was bitching about being spirited away to live a secret life. She was a highly pissed off, more than capable of Impressing Weyrbrat. The Weyrleader was just a prude, with his stupid ideals and ridiculous rules. Restricting female impressions! Pah!
"That dragon is worse than Threadfall, and just as small."
Indivara frowned up at Valerain with a slightly puzzled expression, before hauling herself to sit when he stepped back. Released from his confinement and confident in her ability to vanish up into the branches if he so much as twitched to move in her direction, the preteen climbed to her feet arrogantly and shoved her tangled hair out of her face with her left hand. She ignored his claim to being Katilan without so much as blinking; it was as if she didn't even hear his claim at all. The young girl was eyeing Valerian boldly, taking in his height, his form and general appearance. Her lips pursed suddenly and her bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"You would get along with Larrikith." She said suspiciously, voice spiked with irritation, the girl still less than pleased with his snide go at her being a cry baby. She supposed he might have had a point about her tantrum throwing, but nothing she threw would ever outclass some of the more explicit Northerners that came in. Besides, she was born of a dragonrider! She'd been living with dragons her entire life. She was not some wide-eyed holder brat that was bitching about being spirited away to live a secret life. She was a highly pissed off, more than capable of Impressing Weyrbrat. The Weyrleader was just a prude, with his stupid ideals and ridiculous rules. Restricting female impressions! Pah!
"That dragon is worse than Threadfall, and just as small."