Working Dinner [Talian]

Wonder of wonders, Breccan was eating, and at a reasonable time. True, most of the dining hall's occupants were just finishing a meal, rather than just starting one, but that was still a dramatic improvement for a girl who often skipped eating entirely. She had been attempting to pay better attention to her own health lately, returning to her habit of a morning swim before her day began. She'd even gone back to running occasionally, most often when the weather didn't encourage swimming. Her little health regimen had increased her appetite to the point she found it hard to ignore. On the one hand, this was rather annoying when she had things to finish, but on the other, it did encourage more regular eating, which she recognized as a benefit.

In any case, she had selected a pair of meatrolls and a thick crockery bowl of some kind of stew. She was ravenous, and the smells were enough to set her mouth to watering. A mug of water completed her meal, and she balanced them all carefully as she moved towards a near-empty table. A pair of men were completing their own dinners on one end, but she sat far enough away to avoid overhearing their conversation. They'd be gone soon enough, judging by the empty plates, and she'd have the table to herself. It wasn't that she didn't want company, only that she felt it awkward to join a conversation that was already in progress. And her company was enough, if it had to be.

Setting down her meal, she seated herself and tugged a scroll from a pocket attached to her belt. Unrolling it, she ran avid eyes across the neat handwriting, the detailed drawings. She'd been most curious about dragon anatomy, and this was the only scroll she'd found concerning it. There were obviously no dragonhealers in the north, but they doubtless needed tended to from time to time. The particular challenge of their delicate wing sails was tempting. They were so crucial to the flight that dragons were made for, and yet fragile. She suspected they tore them now and then, despite the tough hide, and she was intent on learning the best methods for repair.

A meatroll found its way to her mouth, and she relished the salty bite, dipping it absently into the stew. The food here was good. She couldn't argue that. Perhaps next she should search for some more herbs used in flavoring; the kitchen staff would doubtless appreciate new spices to add to their repertoire, and even if she couldn't find any new ones, she guessed re-stocking would be just as helpful. Her eyes crawled over the page before her, fascinated. She was especially interested in the multiple stomachs, and the use of firestone. Did they have any firestone here? Enough of them blathered about Thread returning, which she doubted. All the information she'd ever seen about dragons said they reproduced more frequently when Thread was imminent, to swell the fighting numbers in the Wings. She saw little sign of that here. Nirinath's clutch was not particularly large, even if it was rumored to contain a Gold. Nirinath had to produce a Gold. She was the only one remaining, so a daughter was required if they were to have any chance at surviving as a species. If Thread was returning, Nirinath would have produced Golds already, and this rumored daughter would serve to swell the population, not drag it back from the brink of extinction.

Idly she wondered if Greens could be induced to Clutch. There were enough of them here to provide plenty of little dragonlings, though she doubted they'd produce much besides other Greens, and maybe Blues. They just weren't big enough for big clutches, nor did she believe a little Green could produce a Gold Egg. Hmm. Did the Riders have a plan for the eventuality that Nirinath would die without producing a Gold to take her place? Probably not.

She snorted lightly, tucking loose strands of hair behind one ear, and started in on her second meatroll. Perhaps she'd have to bring that up the next time they had one of their little meetings.