15.Oct.12, 09:49 AM
Lymsleia found herself shaking. The moment Z'ia twisted her arm. She say stars. This was not one her self-made stories. There wouldn't be any good ending- that much she knew. But she didn't like going on like this. She hated the way she was treated, all because she didn't have penis- what stupid reasoning.
She felt her lips twitch. She felt her breath catch, but she focused on the riders. "Oh.. so now you leave me, to go play with him. I see. maybe grandfather was right... you riders tend to rut amoungst yourselves..." she let her words trail she couldn't actually remember the reason her grandfather said those things. But when Dhy's responded to her she exhaled loudly. "You know what. somehow I think you men place to much emphasis on rank..." She gritted her teeth, her wrist hurt where Z'ia'd made the bones grind together.
She turned away from the riders, walking slowly. The pain of her body, made her realize how little she meant to riders. They could kill her , replace her, turn her into a brood mare... and still never respect her. Never- ever.
It stung, the stark and cold reality, that she as a female was simple ' object' 'breeder' to the Weyr and probably worth less than a herd beast to them stung her sense of pride. She'd deluded herself, on stories she'd told herself to explain the world in the dark , and lonely , isolation of her grand-father's home in Falen's Hold.
Here, an ocean away, these rider had impressed upon her what her grandfather had tried to beat into her every day of her life. That women could be easily wiped out of the records, their only legacy was what their bodies produced-- and even then- sometimes they were simply unwanted burdens on he rest of the community.
She turned her back to the riders, they're stupid rutting, though she worried for Ali'ran, he was probably going to come out of thise black and blue if Z'ia had anything to do with it.
She felt her lips twitch. She felt her breath catch, but she focused on the riders. "Oh.. so now you leave me, to go play with him. I see. maybe grandfather was right... you riders tend to rut amoungst yourselves..." she let her words trail she couldn't actually remember the reason her grandfather said those things. But when Dhy's responded to her she exhaled loudly. "You know what. somehow I think you men place to much emphasis on rank..." She gritted her teeth, her wrist hurt where Z'ia'd made the bones grind together.
She turned away from the riders, walking slowly. The pain of her body, made her realize how little she meant to riders. They could kill her , replace her, turn her into a brood mare... and still never respect her. Never- ever.
It stung, the stark and cold reality, that she as a female was simple ' object' 'breeder' to the Weyr and probably worth less than a herd beast to them stung her sense of pride. She'd deluded herself, on stories she'd told herself to explain the world in the dark , and lonely , isolation of her grand-father's home in Falen's Hold.
Here, an ocean away, these rider had impressed upon her what her grandfather had tried to beat into her every day of her life. That women could be easily wiped out of the records, their only legacy was what their bodies produced-- and even then- sometimes they were simply unwanted burdens on he rest of the community.
She turned her back to the riders, they're stupid rutting, though she worried for Ali'ran, he was probably going to come out of thise black and blue if Z'ia had anything to do with it.