17.Oct.18, 04:58 AM
M'ris still marvelled at how he was a Weyrleader. How he had fooled everyone into believing he could lead a group of people and organize anything more than what he wanted for breakfast was beyond him, but turns later he still held the job, so he must have been doing something right. Or, more likely, no one else wanted the job and figured he was doing better than expected so he could keep at it. As long as he kept fooling the masses and didn't lead them to certain doom--which was close with the heat wave and diminishing supplies-- he figured he'd keep the shiny title and the few perks that came with it.
Like so many nights before this one, he paused in his walk across the Bowl to take a moment and look around him, at everything he was in charge of. It really did boggle his mind. But he felt doing the simple action helped to keep him grounded, especially when he saw folk scurrying about or dragons on their ledges. So many looked to him and he had to make sure he kept his focus, made himself approachable, and knew the people in his care.
As he scanned around the ledges, noting some of the usual suspects catching the last rays of sun, a familiar yet out of place blue caught his eye. Isn't that Edath? he asked Mosiath, knowing the bronze would have a better view than him from his own ledge. Sometimes, he would kill to have a dragon's eyesight. It is! He's been here all day. We visited for a while while R'dal hung out with friends, but he's been visiting Halomirth for a bit now.
Halomirth? While he did his best to remember everyone in the Weyr, it was still a lot of people and dragons and M'ris had to admit, he could forget someone at times, especially if they were quiet and kept to themselves. When Mosiath mentioned her rider was the very man he had sent a letter to that morning, M'ris felt rather foolish. How could he forget the man that quickly? He was still under a lot of stress from the food supplies already dwindling and now the Ista fires had ensured any tithing would be minimal now as well, so he felt he could be forgiven for his absent mindedness.
Maybe he'd go say hello to his son and apologise to F'drel for being sneaky with that letter. The poor man had probably been terrified out of his mind when he was summoned, especially if he was friends with R'dal. R'dal's friends were generally good kids but some liked to cause mischief and having their friend's Weyrleader father call them to the office was likely a less than fun experience.
He chuckled to himself as he made his way to F'drel's door. Should he play up one of his roles? He could be a concerned protective father offering advice and putting fear into his son's friend. It'd be good practice for his daughters, one of which was now old enough to Stand. He'd be beating the boys back from her door soon. Then again, it wouldn't do much good to play that role when R'dal would be right there as well. He'd call everything for the bluff it was, giggling the entire time. He had an odd child and was still thinking about that when he knocked.
Like so many nights before this one, he paused in his walk across the Bowl to take a moment and look around him, at everything he was in charge of. It really did boggle his mind. But he felt doing the simple action helped to keep him grounded, especially when he saw folk scurrying about or dragons on their ledges. So many looked to him and he had to make sure he kept his focus, made himself approachable, and knew the people in his care.
As he scanned around the ledges, noting some of the usual suspects catching the last rays of sun, a familiar yet out of place blue caught his eye. Isn't that Edath? he asked Mosiath, knowing the bronze would have a better view than him from his own ledge. Sometimes, he would kill to have a dragon's eyesight. It is! He's been here all day. We visited for a while while R'dal hung out with friends, but he's been visiting Halomirth for a bit now.
Halomirth? While he did his best to remember everyone in the Weyr, it was still a lot of people and dragons and M'ris had to admit, he could forget someone at times, especially if they were quiet and kept to themselves. When Mosiath mentioned her rider was the very man he had sent a letter to that morning, M'ris felt rather foolish. How could he forget the man that quickly? He was still under a lot of stress from the food supplies already dwindling and now the Ista fires had ensured any tithing would be minimal now as well, so he felt he could be forgiven for his absent mindedness.
Maybe he'd go say hello to his son and apologise to F'drel for being sneaky with that letter. The poor man had probably been terrified out of his mind when he was summoned, especially if he was friends with R'dal. R'dal's friends were generally good kids but some liked to cause mischief and having their friend's Weyrleader father call them to the office was likely a less than fun experience.
He chuckled to himself as he made his way to F'drel's door. Should he play up one of his roles? He could be a concerned protective father offering advice and putting fear into his son's friend. It'd be good practice for his daughters, one of which was now old enough to Stand. He'd be beating the boys back from her door soon. Then again, it wouldn't do much good to play that role when R'dal would be right there as well. He'd call everything for the bluff it was, giggling the entire time. He had an odd child and was still thinking about that when he knocked.