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It had already been a long, tiring day, and Dehka was more than happy to fall to his meal of roasted wherry and boiled tubers. Food seemed to taste so much better after a hard day of work, and the boy was feeling quite content with everything.

New faces had been appearing every day as Searchriders found new people with the potential to Impress a dragon. It was an exciting time, if not a little overwhelming. Still, Dehka did his best to be welcoming and kind, knowing how much more overwhelmed these new peple had to be. At least he had a solid support base.


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Don't even look at them. Hia father's voice was already so firmly in his head when Dorok so much as curiously glanced at new blood entering High Reaches. E'rok had a lot of opinions about it and Dorok....well, he didn't share them no matter how loudly the words his father had needled under his skin had become.

It was impossible to stay away from them all by nature of their lessons, which seemed at times to be tinted in the same bias. You don't want to walk away with a green, do you? He'd picture his mother and her dragon every time he heard the phrase, or some variation of it, failing to see what was wrong with it...but still finding some part of himself twisted around that sentiment. No matter what Dorok wanted for himself a small part of him would question it: if he got what he wanted, was it really for him or his father?

It was thoughts like these that kept the Weyrborn young man's shoulders tense at all times, making him a little stiff as he took a seat not far from a familiar face. For reasons he didn't understand, E'rok didn't seem to want him near that Bronzerider's brood. But they were the sons of a Bronzerider.....so he considered it malicious compliance.

"You have that look like you want to take a thought and go fishing," Dorok greeted even before he began pushing his own food around.


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He was so fixated on his food that for a moment, the words spoken didn't even register to him. Dehka gave a start, glancing up before giving a sheepish grin. "Y-Yeah, I guess. I was thinking about all the new people who have shown up, wondering if they were fitting in okay..."

He recognized the other just from lessons alone, though they'd never really spoken before. Dorok was a little intimidating, but Dehka had seen that he was astute and capable. It was admirable, really--and in some ways, the young man reminded him of his brother.

"We're supposed to be a team, right?" He asked, not at all expecting any disagreement. "One day, we might be Weyrlings together, so I think it's important that we get to know each other before that."


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Dorok considered this as he pushed a tuber around with his spoon, expression almost spitefully neutral to keep from betraying his own thoughts too quickly. Dehka was an eager and kind boy, traits that when kept in the right airspace would serve him well - at least, Dorok thought so.

"Yes and no," Dorok finally relented, the sharp edge of his spoon cutting the tuber in half as he spoke. There was nothing dismissive in his tone, but there was a thoughtful quality to it. "Not everybody who comes here is looking to be part of something like a team," for a moment, it almost looked as though he was looking towards someone in particular. But only for a moment.

"There are more parts to it than just who sits in on candidate lessons. Or Weyrling lessons."


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Dehka considered that for a moment, frowning down at his own plate. "You're right," He agreed after a time, spearing a piece of wherry on his fork just to swish it about in a bit of tuber. "But whether they realize it or not, they can't do things by themselves. That's not how it works." The heirarchy was in place for a reason; greens and blues were swift enough to dart about and handle the worst of Threadfall, where browns and bronzes had the stamina to last for hours and clean up the fight. The queens were large enough to catch any falling dragons--and their riders could incinerate any bits of Thread that slipped through the ranks.

Again, he found himself agreeing with Dorok's assessment, finally lifting his eyes to meet the other's. "What do you think should be done to help people realize that? I don't want them to Impress a dragon and then get themselves hurt or--" His voice caught for a moment, remembering those who had been lost all too recently.


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Dorok made a mental note to himself, tucking it away thoughtfully. "That is for the Candidatemasters to determine. Pain is a reality of impression now," he was not about to step out of line and pretend he - a boy without experience, without a dragon - knew best on how to inform others of how it would be. Still, he traced the burn along the side of his face as he spoke.

"You'll hurt yourself if you shoulder the responsibility of others." Like he should have been talking.


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Mmm... Dehka made a quiet noise, not disagreeing. Still though,the Candidatemasters weren't with them every second of the day. He paused, distracted as the other traced his scar, frowning quietly to himself.

He paused at that note, blinking with surprise. "I don't mind." He said honestly. "If I can help people... well. It's alright."


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"What would your dad think about it?" Dorok asked, knowing fully well his own father would have disapproved of him getting hurt on behalf of somebody else - helping was fine, but not to that extreme. Clearly, he didn't know what kind of man N'ori was.

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Again, the boy paused to just blink--smiling sheepishly after a moment. "He'd be proud of me, I think." He said honestly, rubbing the side of his face. "He'd do the same thing, no question."

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E'rok would not have been proud. He would have considered his son to be bucking the system - undermining those who knew better. For a brief moment, Dorok was jealous. "Oh," he probably looked a bit foolish, frowning thoughtfully at that answer.

Cutting the tuber with his spoon again, Dorok couldn't say he absolutely disagreed with the idea of putting himself out there to help, though. "I think what you should focus on," because clearly Dehka was going to throw himself at things whether he should have or not, "is that place where lessons end." Did that even make sense?

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That... probably wasn't a smart answer, was it? The thoughtful response was enough to bring a flush to his cheeks, and Dehka clumsily covered it with a hasty bite of his dinner. The last thing he wanted to do was seem like he thought he knew better than anyone else--especially their instructors. The new Candidatemaster was not a man to be trifled with.

Dehka jerked his head up with surprise at the suggestion before his eyes seemed to glaze, mentally running through scenarios and situations. "You mean when it's just us. Whether it's in the barracks or during free time... that'd be the most beneficial without stepping on any toes--" He was mumbling under his breath, eagerly putting the pieces together without realizing he was keeping a running commentary with his thoughts.

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Dorok took a bite of the poor tuber he'd been cutting up idly as Dehka latched onto his suggestion, perhaps not in the way he'd meant it, and started muttering himself down a whole tunnelsnake burrow of thoughts about it. He imagined it was very much like what a firelizard would do if they were offered an entire wherry just for them.

"I meant in subject, not in place or time," Dorok suggested helpfully. He didn't actually have ideas on it, but he'd also been raised in the Weyr. He'd known what the expectation was since the moment he would walk, practically. It perhaps wouldn't be as interesting as the Candidatemasters acclimating those who had been Searched to what life would be now, but.....

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It would never hurt to offer a hand to someone who seemed to be struggling outside of their scheduled lessons, even if it might take him some time to work up the courage to breach the social wall.... Dehka blinked again when he was snapped out of his thoughts--and his mumbling. "Oh--y-yeah, that makes sense. Thanks!" He beamed briefly at Dorok, feeling entirely better about the whole thing.

His stomach reminded him that it had only gotten one measly bite, and the boy rewarded its patience with another. "I know we talked a little about dragons before... but." Was this an okay subject to even breach? He knew slightly of the immense expectations being pressed onto Dorok, and didn't want to add to them. "Do you have a color you're hoping to Impress? Just--for you. Not for your dad."

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He could only imagine how Dehka would run away with that thought, but he wasn't a disastrous hothead like his brother so...everything would probably be fine.

Dorok tensed visibly as Dehka pushed around the ever favorite topic of most candidates: impressing a dragon. Frowning, he focused intently on his plate again, starting to dissect another potato with haphazard care. Did he admit to anything? "I do," he answered evasively, not offering any specifics. There was only one color that would take him where he wanted if he stayed at High Reaches.

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There were so many things that lessons just couldn't cover about Weyr life... like how every single person contributed here, and what it meant to suddenly be part of it. Even if discussed, it was one thing to be taught about it, and another entirely to live it.

Dorok's reaction was palpable to the point where Dehka's food became a lump in his throat. He struggled to swallow it down, but before he could think to apologize and retract the statement, he received an unexpected answer. "I see." He had no intention of prying further, deciding it was safer to elaborate on his own thoughts. "I'll be happy with anything, honestly. I know some people look down on other colors and say some terrible thing about white dragons... but they have to work just as hard as anyone--harder, even, to prove themselves."

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Shame immediately tried to creep it's way in for his lackluster answer. He should have been proud of his ambitions - and he was. But that expectation from above threatened to choke him soundly, trying to steal up all of his words. Dorok continued to cut and mash at the tuber with his spoon. "My brother rides a white," Oh, how E'rok would have hated to hear that string of words. To have a whiterider attributed to him. Still, he mulled around that thought. That idea that one had to prove themselves. It twisted his insides. Prove yourself. Be worthy. Be right. Be strong. The best. He had to be.

"Just anything?" Dehka had sounded so confident in the idea, but....

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"Really? My friend rides one, too. They're both really hard workers--" Realization dawned on him after a moment, remembering what Dorok had said before.... His father disowned his children if they didn't ride metallics. "...well, maybe I can introduce you." He finished a little lamely.

Dehka grew a bit more thoughtful at the question, nodding to himself. "Yeah. At first, I was trying to think about it like... maybe I'd be better on a green or a blue to help at the higher altitudes, but it's not really up to me. Part of me would like a bronze like Meigth--my dad's dragon-- but honestly, I'm not much of a leader. If even a gold wanted me, I'd be happy to be her rider." He smiled a little, a touch embarrassed. "So yeah. If any dragon thought I was important enough to be Theirs.... I'd be really happy."

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"Maybe. I'm sure they're real busy with..." he trailed off, gesturing with one hand in the general direction of the sky. It went without really saying that Dorok was referring to Threadfall.

It was near impossible to stifle the smile spreading across his face as Dehka talked of even a Gold. Had a Gold ever chosen a boy in the history of Pern?.....Was he making assumptions? Another notion, quietly tucked away. "That's how I hope it will be," he admitted, finally scooping the half-mashed half-cut tuber into his mouth. "That it isn't about what we want makes it a little easier....right?" It didn't, to him, but the thought was nicer for someone like Dehka who wanted it all without fear of what they'd mean.

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Dehka frowned at once, nodding quietly. The Sr. Weyrlings would be fighting Thread for the first time soon... Dehka prayed that they'd all make it through safely, but...

When he saw Dorok beginning to smile, he had the sense to blush again--but wouldn't take his statement back. A gold would never Impress to a boy--but if she did, he would never turn her away. "I think so." He agreed, offering a hesitant smile of his own. "In the end, it doesn't matter what color you ride. You're still a dragonrider."

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It was a nice thought, one he was certain was enough for most to settle comfortably enough. But it wasn't enough for him - and what he wanted to prove could only be proved here. At home. "Not yet, I'm not," he mused, leaning his chin into one hand as another tuber came under fire with the spoon. It was almost a nervous habit at this point.

"I want to be a Wingleader someday," he admitted after a moment of thought. Dorok wanted to be more than that, but it was enough he played that much of his hand. He wanted to be something grand - and he needed to be the type of person who could go that far.

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"Neither of us are yet." He admitted, watching the poor tuber find itself again getting mashed about. "But one day soon, I hope." He dreamed about it constantly with a yearning he would never be able to put into words.

Dehka's eyes lit up, he nodded eagerly. "That's a great goal! It's a really important job." He often thought Kahbrohm would be a good Wingleader too--if he could just temper the way he said things sometimes....

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Soon was always the hope. It was a shining, sparkling beacon reminding that freedom and his own desires could follow after it....if only.

"I'd think with some shadowing of a skilled one I'd get a good knack for it," Dorok wasn't so full of himself as to think he'd master it without some training. But he didn't want it just to have it. "Do you have dreams besides a dragon of your own?"

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A good instructor did wonders for learning. Dehka nodded thoughtfully. "So you could start as a Wingsecond until you had enough experience..." It was a solid plan, and the boy gave a jolt when his own plans were inquired after.

"I just want to help save people." He admitted before falling silent, now pushing his food around on his plate. For a time, he didn't say anything else. "I want to try and find my mother." The words burst out of him unexpectedly, and his eyes refused to lift from the dish in front of him.

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"Mmhmmm," was really the only answer one could give with another mouthful of food. He had to make sure he excelled and caught the right eyes. There was a long time between impressing a dragon and even being considered as a Wingsecond as well. Even with the right groundwork he had a ways to go.

Dehka's answer was unsurprising to Dorok, who had gleaned that end from his eager desire to help and be of use. The next statement was more confusing, however, and he looked from his own plate over to the young man sitting across the way. "Doesn't your dad know where she is?" From the way Dehka said it, she wasn't at the Weyr...had she ever been? Had she left, leaving him behind? He'd never really known enough about Dehka - or Kahbrohm - to know the complications of their lack of blood ties.

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Dehka shook his head. "Dad adopted me." He said simply. "My mom.... she'd helped him get out of Nabo, to High Reaches. After he Impressed here, he went back for her..." Dehka had heard the story before, but....

"When he found her, she had--well, me. She made him promise to take me away from Nabol." And he had. And instead of leaving him to hte creche, N'ori had chosen to raise him instead as his own child.

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That tuber was really looking interesting now, mash, mash, cut. "I see," Dorok said softly. But he didn't - he couldn't imagine. His father wouldn't have put in the thought or the effort to raise the child of another. Too busy raising his own, which were far more important. They had people to do that.

"Moms are selfishly wonderful like that, aren't they?" Dehka may not have remembered much of his own mother, but Dorok ran his hand over the burn on his face again. The one on his mother's arm was so much worse.


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Selfishly wonderful...? Dehka didn't understand for a moment--not until he realized Dorok was touching the scar on his face. "Oh." He said quietly. He didn't quite understand... but it wasn't hard to connect the pieces. "Y-Yeah...."

He was quiet for a time, lost in his own thoughts. "But... that's why I need to find her. To thank her, and to... to make sure she's not in Nabol anymore, either."

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"Where would you start?" Dorok asked. It sounded like it had been a long time and well......

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"I don't know." He shrugged for a moment. "Nabol, probably. Just... you know, where my dad saw her last..."

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Mash, mash, cut. The tuber attempted to roll off his plate and Dorok had to stop it with his hand as he toyed with his given distraction. "I hope that I'm in a position to help when that time comes," he said, placing the tuber back in the center of his plate a bit more forcefully than he meant to. "More eyes, right?"

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Green eyes went wide at the other's statement, and Dehka felt his heart clench at the wave of emotion that threatened to surge through him. "R-Right." He agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat.

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It was more than likely that both boys were signing up for something that was bigger than they could chew, even with their powers combined. But Dorok wouldn't regret offering to help Dehka when the time came to make good on it. "You better finish eating before it gets cold," he offered, as though his own meal hadn't been just as neglected, popping the runaway tuber into his mouth at last.

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Ah! The boy blinked owlishly for a moment before attacking his meal with determination,. An empty stomach was just asking for trouble. Once he was finished, he stood up, gathering his plate so he could take it back to the kitchens. "Thanks, Dorok." He said softly.

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Blinking a few times himself, Dorok stared down almost shyly at Dehka's gratitude. "Sure. I'll uh....see you later then?" They did live in the same barracks, after all, and there were always lessons the next day.

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"Y-Yeah! Have a good night!" Dehka wished the other, smiling brightly again before he retreated to the kitchens.


Tsunake