Not that the Candidate barracks were any better than outside, really. The building was built out in the bowl, not carved into the stone of the caldera. Even with numerous open windows it tended to bake a bit in the sun and hold the heat in even after nightfall when there was no breeze, as had happened that last night. And it was noisy, sharing with other people. Even now she could hear the breathing of one of her roommates, though it was a little louder than usual. She wondered if she’d accidentally gotten into the wrong--
Aaaaaand then it all came back to her.
Walking with Rube in the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds. A sudden scream to wake the dead. Dragons in the air, raindrops that felt as big as fists pouring down on them. Hurrying toward the first shelter she could find when lightning began to strike the ground… bumping into another person, and suddenly being overwhelmed with the rising queen dragon’s lust.
She didn’t even want to look and see whom she’d ended up with. She didn’t want the awkwardness of having to recognize him or her if they crossed paths around the Weyr. So, carefully, she opened her eyes, looking away from the hopefully-sleeping body beside her to scope for an exit. And drat. Of course it was on the other side of the room. Joshala held her breath and slooooowly sat up, turned her head, and found herself face to face with a dragon.
She nearly screamed. The sound started to come up her throat, but the turns of avoiding trouble in the mines had made her very good at catching herself before she made too much noise. Instead, she took a moment to calm herself, realizing that the dragon was probably asleep. Its head lay on the chest of her bedmate… who appeared to be male. She supposed she could live with that, although she really, really would have preferred to have been elsewhere last night… somewhere far, far away from Western and its ill-timed gold flights.
DruidTigeress
