31.Jan.12, 07:37 AM
Food! At long last!
A naturally early riser, Kerrin ignored the various sullen, sleep-deprived looks tossed his way as he traipsed his way from the kitchens to the dining hall, humming to himself a bright but completely tuneless melody as went. He had already completed his morning chores - a rare feat indeed, but his favorite spiced sweetrolls were on the menu that morning and that had been extra incentive to be among the first weyrbrats on his way to the dining hall. The little ones with their easily-accomplished morning tasks were downright nefarious when it came to sneaking into the kitchens and snatching all of the choicest goodies from right beneath the noses of cooks and diligently slaving (or slacking, as the case often was) teenagers alike.
And so it had been with record speed that he had swept the floors, wiped down the tables, set the first pots of water to boiling on the hearths, and helped stack the dishes until the lady in charge that morning had finally deemed him well-worked enough to be excused to eat his own breakfast. He wasn't the first person or even the first weyrbrat there by a long shot, but he had accomplished exactly what he'd come for, for on a plate set aside just for himself sat the biggest, fluffiest, stickiest sweetroll to come out of the ovens that morning - a plate he now held proudly, for he was certain that there must be more than one pair of envious eyes following his every movement as he stacked beside that glorious treat the various other trimmings that would make it a complete breakfast. But really, the meat was just an accompaniment at this point. This roll was amazing.
"All right, looks good!" Kerrin announced to no one in particular, once he'd arranged a breakfast he was satisfied with. He sat himself at the table with great purpose, and was just in the process of reaching over to pour himself a glass of juice when he noticed an unfamiliar young man across from him eating with more gusto than the teen thought entirely necessary in populations that were not starving. And Katilans had not been starving in a long, long time.
"Um. There's always plenty to go around, you know," Kerrin ventured cautiously to the stranger, peering at him from over the rim of his glass with one brow raised as he followed his statement with a long drink of his freshly procured juice. Even after a better look, the boy didn't quite recognize him, and Kerrin had good reason to believe he knew just about everyone at Katila Weyr... especially anyone he could guess to be reasonably close to his age. Was this a new Stolen candidate, perhaps?
A naturally early riser, Kerrin ignored the various sullen, sleep-deprived looks tossed his way as he traipsed his way from the kitchens to the dining hall, humming to himself a bright but completely tuneless melody as went. He had already completed his morning chores - a rare feat indeed, but his favorite spiced sweetrolls were on the menu that morning and that had been extra incentive to be among the first weyrbrats on his way to the dining hall. The little ones with their easily-accomplished morning tasks were downright nefarious when it came to sneaking into the kitchens and snatching all of the choicest goodies from right beneath the noses of cooks and diligently slaving (or slacking, as the case often was) teenagers alike.
And so it had been with record speed that he had swept the floors, wiped down the tables, set the first pots of water to boiling on the hearths, and helped stack the dishes until the lady in charge that morning had finally deemed him well-worked enough to be excused to eat his own breakfast. He wasn't the first person or even the first weyrbrat there by a long shot, but he had accomplished exactly what he'd come for, for on a plate set aside just for himself sat the biggest, fluffiest, stickiest sweetroll to come out of the ovens that morning - a plate he now held proudly, for he was certain that there must be more than one pair of envious eyes following his every movement as he stacked beside that glorious treat the various other trimmings that would make it a complete breakfast. But really, the meat was just an accompaniment at this point. This roll was amazing.
"All right, looks good!" Kerrin announced to no one in particular, once he'd arranged a breakfast he was satisfied with. He sat himself at the table with great purpose, and was just in the process of reaching over to pour himself a glass of juice when he noticed an unfamiliar young man across from him eating with more gusto than the teen thought entirely necessary in populations that were not starving. And Katilans had not been starving in a long, long time.
"Um. There's always plenty to go around, you know," Kerrin ventured cautiously to the stranger, peering at him from over the rim of his glass with one brow raised as he followed his statement with a long drink of his freshly procured juice. Even after a better look, the boy didn't quite recognize him, and Kerrin had good reason to believe he knew just about everyone at Katila Weyr... especially anyone he could guess to be reasonably close to his age. Was this a new Stolen candidate, perhaps?