-_Wish of Tevarae_-
High Reaches' excitement over the pair of clutches was getting close to fever pitch with eggs in the sands. Two large seeming clutches -- so many candidates to graduate, so much spoeculation. Whom was green, gold, white, and sundry was on everybody's lips, and only one heavy thought hung over a candidate.
She wasn't sure she was worththe dragons' time. She accepted candidacy because thread took her family, a feeling that wrenched her stomach, but being a Candidate meant she also turned her back -- mostly. Toxic words sometimes haunted nightmares -- that girls ought to be in the home raising families, not running off to save Pern -- unless they were weyrfolk. Amila was no weyrfolk child but instead a simple girl, whom was glad to have a way to survive, but survival was all she tried. Well, beyond trying to reach out to help a dragonet, which... Had gone poorly, and she made a face thinking of the Tarot hatching. She'd done all she could to avoid celebrating, because she felt the focus ought remain on others, and always did so.
Today was no exception as she sat, tending to repairing some spare robes as she watched the world pass. It was a lovely sunny day, one that warrented relaxation in the sunlight, and so while people worked, riders landed and launched, and others cleaned, Amila sat by herself sewing, trying not to garner any attention at all, and hummed, holding her work up to inspect it, oblivious to anyone around.