Snowy Weyrs

Writers: Rochelle
Date Posted: 29th February 2008

Characters: Tatitem
Description: Tatitem admires the snowy landscape and plots more duties for the candidates under her care...
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 8, day 13 of Turn 4

Tatitem stood alone on the weyrledge, looking out over the snow-covered weyrbowl. Just barely audible behind her were the sounds of the drudges and cleaning staff packing up the old rider's belongings, distant thuds and whispers that echoed around the little weyr before fading under the muffling silence of falling snow.

It was an old rider fortunately, an ancient bluerider who'd been old when she arrived at Dragonsfall decades ago. His heart had given out at last, and his ancient blue had shifted between without even waking from his aged slumber. Tatitem didn't mind these occasions as much as some of her staff did, and knew that many felt a bit cold by her brisk assessment of "another weyr we can use." The man had been ancient, well into his ninth decade, and his world had passed beyond him. The weyr was really quite pretty from this vantage point, she conceded.
Her critical examination of the weyr had shown her a nicely laid out, if small, living area, and a well-proportioned if worn weyr -perfect for a single blue or green rider. And now, standing on the broad ledge, she concluded that the man must have chosen the weyr, rather than have it assigned to him, all those turns ago before the queens who produced the expanding dragon population had even been hatched. It really was an exceptionally nice little weyr. If she'd had a dragon, she'd have been tempted to reassign herself.

She squinted up at the sky, watching the light snowflakes whirling in separate, random paths down toward her from a gray sky. It had been snowing for three days now, and while it made the snow-covered cliffs look very pretty, it was piling and becoming dangerous in places. From here she could see the trails leading to the dining cavern and the churned, blood spattered snow in the feeding pens. All the trekking back and forth was causing the snow to melt where they walked, and of course it refroze quickly once becoming mush into slick ice, which became even more dangerous with a new, light dusting of the ever-falling snow.

Tati scowled to herself. She needed to get some candidates with shovels and gravel by the pens, she decided. Normally she waited a little longer, but there had been three injuries so far with riders dismounting their beasts so they could feed alone, news of the latest one brought to her that morning while she was overseeing breakfast preparations. Rider stupidity was one thing, but she was not about to let something in her domain interfere with the wings. She would have the candidates shovel and put some gravel down on all the common paths across the weyrbowl, she decided. She'd already had them doing it in front of the dining hall, bathing cavern, and infirmary, which immediately led to more sweeping but fewer accidents. They would grumble
-loudly-, but what if the snow kept coming? Besides, it was cold enough that even if the snow stopped, what was still there was just going to turn to mush when trampled, and then refreeze into more ice. And it wasn't like she didn't have plenty of candidates available.

She nodded sharply to herself, mentally filing away the duty to attend to as soon as she was finished with the weyr. It would give the newer candidates some discipline. So many people thought that weyrs were all fun between Threadfalls. But it was hard work that kept it running, and she made sure it ran well. No matter who argued, or tried to shirk. It was _her_weyr to run. Even the Weyrwoman, who was technically in charge of the weyr, left the actual organization of people and supplies to the Headwoman. As far as Tatitem was concerned, if it wasn't currently on the back of a dragon -and the dragon preferably had to be in the air- it was under her jurisdiction. "...need more boxes..." Tati turned her head, her sharp ears picking up the stray comment when it escaped the weyr behind her. She turned to go back into the weyr, but paused, admiring the snow-covered view for one last moment. Not many people would appreciate it. _She_ didn't even usually have time to appreciate a view like this. The weyr would be wasted on someone who didn't have the time.

"...Where's Tatitem? Master...said that...herbs..."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. She recognized the whiny echo as the irritating boy she had running messages with the Infirmary, while she tried to keep track of the various crises that excessive snow and ice tended to create. The latest one sounded like another supply issue. It seemed there were always supply issues, whether they were running low on the item in question or not.

The weyr wasn't going to a weyrling, she decided abruptly. They were too busy to appreciate the treasure this weyr was, and she didn't feel that it deserved to have someone move in, only to move out again a short while later. She winced. Last sevenday she'd cleared a brown's weyr, a Fall tragedy.

With a final glance at the peaceful, snowy landscape, she swept back inside to settle the slowly developing chaos as the boy worked his annoying charms on her helpers.

Last updated on the March 2nd 2008

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