[G] [P] 739.11.01 | Exploration

Casa laughed softly at T’ryn’s question, amused but afraid of the lonely, echoing Weyr to be too loud. Her gaze as she glanced at her companion was teasing though. “Sure,” she played, wagging her finger at him. “You can have a pile of dried up old raisins for being a fibber,” she giggled again, enjoying herself, though careful not to get lost in the ways Azrin ‘punished’ her when she got information wrong, or admitted to bungling up a fact she – and he – knew she should actually know. His teaching methods worked very well on her, but Casa knew T’ryn, and she knew those methods would not work on her gentle, sweet, and ridiculously innocent friend.

“There is most likely records somewhere,” Casa replied, stepping a little closer to T’ryn when a breeze managed to whine through the doorway they’d used in just the right manner to make a shiver of fear streak down her spine; she could feel all the little hairs on the back of her neck and along her arms standing up on end. “I’ll ask Az,” she trailed off as they made their way into the room from the main hall, her skin still crawling. “This place is so much more creepy,” she mumbled; Casa swore she could feel the Riders and dragons of old breathing down her neck and it made her really uncomfortable.

When T’ryn dropped her hand, she made up for it by just about walking on his heels as she pressed against him, stumbling and looking around. She wasn’t too proud to admit the whole area – and probably the late hour wasn’t helping – was making her feel like she was going to explode from anticipation (and not the good kind!). Casa could feel her heart pounding and her breath was puffing out in little clouds of frosty air. “Probably used it for the new Handlers,” Casa said, mumbling as she pressed against T’ryn’s back while he peered around from a standstill. “While they taught them… whatever they learn.” Her nose scrunched up. Why would anyone want a wher? They seemed so cruel and viscous and stupid! Like really big new born dragons!

Linking her arm through T’ryn’s so she could walk beside him, and answer his questions about Holders, Casa peered around, her own glow stone held tightly in her free fist. She could feel Thallyath on the edge of her mind; the dragon was close, exploring some of the empty ledges to amuse herself. The sudden feeling of pure horror from Thallyath had Casa dropping her stone, and he bounced and rolled before stopping against one of the walls. Thallyath’s vocal bugle of shocked distress echoed through the night.

“Thally?!” Casa drew them to an immediate stop, and reached out mentally for her dragon.

I… I think I found… someone… she said, her mind-voice tinged with horror, and Casa shuddered. They… didn’t make it between, she whispered, and Casa gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she leaned against T’ryn in horror. How had the remains of a dragon been missed? She’d spoken to Azrin about how the Holders had done their best to compile the bodies of dragons who had died on their ledges, and burned them, on account of what would surely have otherwise been an absolutely horrific stench. The dragonriders, when they’d returned, some few had been selected to scout the Weyrs, and – without getting close – alert the Weyrleaders so arrangements could be made to clean out … leftovers.

Casa felt her blood run cold suddenly. “Are you near it?!” She squawked, her eyes bulging at the sudden terror of Thallyath somehow contracting the disease that had – hopefully – been wiped out when the original dragons all fled South. She felt Thallyath’s reassurance. No. I didn’t land on the ledge. I could see it before I got too close. I don’t like this place. Can we go home?

“Not yet,” Casa whispered, relief rushing through her as she felt Thallyath seek out Syrendryth, suddenly in need of another living dragon – even if it was one she didn’t particularly like – and land near him. Not touching, and not overly close, but enough. Casa took a deep breath, and released it slowly. “Maybe we shouldn’t go near the Sands,” she said, frowning slightly, as she imagined them covered with the bones of baby dragons… But wouldn’t the Wher handler’s have gotten rid of them? She didn’t know, and that bothered her.

“Thallyath will stay near Syrendryth now,” Casa said softly, knowing – hoping – the bronze was less inclined to go poking around where he shouldn’t. “We should stay away from private Weyrs.” She frowned, “I don’t think what made the dragons sick could survive without a dragon to make sick?” She glanced at T’ryn, and shrugged with a frown, “But I don’t want to risk it!” She gave a tremulous smile, before trying to lighten the mood. “Come on, let’s go see what Katila left in her office!”