18.Nov.19, 03:07 PM
B’kit crouched silently in a remote section of the Weyrbowl, playing hide and seek with Erebuth as a bonding exercise. It was Erebuth’s turn to find him, and he thought he’d found a good spot. “I heard the healers are finally giving up on that disastrous weyrling class and going back to the Hall.” B’kit didn’t recognize the voice, but he felt an irrational stab of alarm at the words before he rationalized it. That was stupid—the healers we’re leaving because the dragons didn’t need constant supervision anymore. No one had given up. The voice continued, “they should all have been dropped between the day they clutched. The Weyrleaders never should have allowed those abominations to hatch, let alone Impress.”
He seethed silently, peeking around the edge of the nook he’d been hiding in. Neither rider was particularly familiar but he was stunned by how blatantly they were talking about this. He knew awful things were being whispered, and had since the Hatching, but he’d never heard the conversations so publicly before, only rumors everyone tried to keep from the weyrlings.
“I feel bad for their riders,” the second man said. “Going through months of hell for sickly, doomed dragons. It’s such a waste of potential, losing three young riders to madness or entirely. They’d have been better off Impressing whers—at least then they could Impress again when the creatures die.”
Kitt felt sick overhearing this. He could feel Erebuth searching for him nearby and frantically tried to avoid broadcasting any of this to his blue. He wished the riders would move on, but the weather was too nice, encouraging loitering. “By the Egg! Would you really want them to?” The first man broke in again. “Anyone who Impressed a monster from that clutch has to be seriously damaged to begin with!”
B’kit startled at the sudden taste of blood in his mouth, realizing he’d bitten through his lip trying to keep quiet. He felt a ripple of alarm, and then rage from Erebuth as the blue processed what he’d heard and charged over. How dare you? You’re the monsters! The blue’s angry words startled the gossips, his eyes whirling an angry red. B’kit swore and scrambled out of his hiding spot to try to calm him down.
“Erebuth—stop! They’re not worth it, Re.” He flung his arms around the furious dragonet’s neck. Erebuth flared his wings in protest and writhed to get away, snarling angrily. “RE. Stop. Please, let’s just go back to our weyr.” The blue’s angry shrieks and the commotion was drawing attention, Kitt noticed with a jolt of anxiety. They said you’re damaged! That Dyoricath, Zezeth, and I are monsters. We’re not—they’re the monsters! You’re perfect. You’re mine
He seethed silently, peeking around the edge of the nook he’d been hiding in. Neither rider was particularly familiar but he was stunned by how blatantly they were talking about this. He knew awful things were being whispered, and had since the Hatching, but he’d never heard the conversations so publicly before, only rumors everyone tried to keep from the weyrlings.
“I feel bad for their riders,” the second man said. “Going through months of hell for sickly, doomed dragons. It’s such a waste of potential, losing three young riders to madness or entirely. They’d have been better off Impressing whers—at least then they could Impress again when the creatures die.”
Kitt felt sick overhearing this. He could feel Erebuth searching for him nearby and frantically tried to avoid broadcasting any of this to his blue. He wished the riders would move on, but the weather was too nice, encouraging loitering. “By the Egg! Would you really want them to?” The first man broke in again. “Anyone who Impressed a monster from that clutch has to be seriously damaged to begin with!”
B’kit startled at the sudden taste of blood in his mouth, realizing he’d bitten through his lip trying to keep quiet. He felt a ripple of alarm, and then rage from Erebuth as the blue processed what he’d heard and charged over. How dare you? You’re the monsters! The blue’s angry words startled the gossips, his eyes whirling an angry red. B’kit swore and scrambled out of his hiding spot to try to calm him down.
“Erebuth—stop! They’re not worth it, Re.” He flung his arms around the furious dragonet’s neck. Erebuth flared his wings in protest and writhed to get away, snarling angrily. “RE. Stop. Please, let’s just go back to our weyr.” The blue’s angry shrieks and the commotion was drawing attention, Kitt noticed with a jolt of anxiety. They said you’re damaged! That Dyoricath, Zezeth, and I are monsters. We’re not—they’re the monsters! You’re perfect. You’re mine