So it'd turned out that the...ragamuffin...that Shahera had spent some time coaxing himself and a few others into helping to clean up the previous turn was in fact a wild foundling. It seemed horribly clear now, but back then...he'd been distracted, wrapped up in his own speeding destiny. The fuss during the touching should have been a clue. He'd been a different person back then, though. Too focused on the wrong things. It was nearly a turn later though now, and he and Strigonth both couldn't help but admit to a...a fascination with the foundling.

What must it have been like to grow up outside of society? Outside of all the rules and propriety? She'd been taken in, bent to lessons and chores, and could almost be missed in a crowd now as just another candidate. Almost. There was still something. A twitchiness, a hyper-awareness. It was probably rude that the young rider and dragon pair had made something of a hobby out of watching her try to find her way through the Weyr, and Weyr life. Harmless, but rude.

It had been Strigonth's idea to approach the girl. And why not? She was interesting. And beneath them, the pair quietly agreed. Like any other candidate, really. But perhaps they could learn something, and impart some knowledge to help her get along better. There was such a thing as too many allies, but...well. They were nowhere near that point. So they chose a moment when neither of them would be bustled off to busier work, and together Strigonth and D'mar swooped down to land in the bowl just a bit away from where the girl was spending time. He slid from the blue's back, patting the dragon's jaw, and then turned to walk right towards her. "Serfie," He called out, slowing as he neared and managing a mild smile. "It's been a turn, it seems." Surely she would remember that they'd met before, right? "Strigonth here reminded me today that I'd not introduced you two. Would you like to meet him?"

“Revel1984”